Science 
 
 IN THE 
 
FROM 
 
 WW H.KELLER. 
 
 TEMPLE OF MUSIC. 
 
 , EASTON.PA. 
 
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 TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 
 
 ^v«i£y/ ^V „fc^-.\ '3" 9090 01T-549 360 
 
 
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CiirnminQS School of Veterinary Medicine at 
 
 Tufts University 
 
 200 Westboro Road 
 
 North Grafton, MA 01536 
 
d^^ 
 
 ^^t;-. 
 
 Science in the Stable 
 
 OR, 
 
 HOW A HORSE CAN BE KEPT IN PERFECT HEALTH 
 
 AND 
 
 BE USED WITHOUT SHOES, 
 
 IN HARNESS OR UNDER TME SADDLE, 
 
 WITH 
 
 THE REASONS WHY. 
 
 JACOB R. LUDLOW, M. D., 
 
 Xate Staff Surgeon Ta. S, Brm?. 
 Xieut.sColonel big 3Brevet. 
 
 Easton, Pa.: 
 
 Press of The Eschenbach Printing House. 
 
 1894, 
 
THIS LITTLE MONOGRAPH 
 
 IS 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SURGEON GENERAL 
 
 OF 
 THE UNITED STATES ARMY, 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
flH 
 
 Copyrighted, January, i894. 
 
jV TO animal so mucH enlists our sympa- 
 thies as tlie Horse. His strength, 
 beauty, and docility, appeal to our finer 
 sentiments, and his utility makes him in- 
 dispensable to our comfort, and often an ab- 
 solute necessity in carrying on the work of 
 life, whether of business or pleasure. But 
 we have all been so annoyed by the many 
 ailments to which he is subject, and the ill 
 condition into which he so often falls, that 
 many people who have kept horses merely 
 for pleasure have been led to dispense 
 with them entirely. 
 
 And this trouble is continually on the 
 
increase. As wealth and refinement ad- 
 vance, our horses are becoming more and 
 more worthless. 
 
 The value of a horse depends, chiefly, 
 on his speed and endurance. If he has 
 endurance without speed, he still has a 
 value ; if he has speed with great endur- 
 ance, he is invaluable. But if he has 
 neither speed nor endurance, he has no 
 value whatever. 
 
 I have frequently noticed the possessors 
 of fine teams afraid to dash out fifteen or 
 twenty miles of an afternoon, lest their 
 horses should suffer. Others drive two or 
 three miles at a leisurely gait, every few 
 days, apparently to benefit the health of 
 the horse, without regard to their own 
 pleasure or amusement, and the only sat- 
 
isfaction that seems possible is the display 
 of a fine-looking and well-groomed team — 
 a mere matter of pure ostentation. 
 
 The horse must be constantly coddled, 
 in the stable and out of the stable. He 
 cannot stop any considerable time without 
 being wrapped up in a warm blanket, and 
 is always the subject of much care and 
 solicitude. 
 
 Such a state of things was unknown fifty 
 years ago. Horses were then subordinate 
 to man, not man to the horse. A man 
 then took no pride in his horse, unless he 
 could do something. He recognized the 
 fact, that a horse was a locomotive ani- 
 mal, and did not rate him high unless he 
 could go and endure. Mere beauty of 
 form and sleekness of coat, however desir- 
 
able, did not satisfy. They did not, in 
 those days, worship '^ stable furniture." 
 
 Note, that at that time blankets were 
 little used, — never on saddle horses, — and 
 the stables were carelessly built and very 
 open. Glazed windows in barns or sta- 
 bles were almost unknown. 
 
 Now-a-days I frequently see horses com- 
 ing from the country, blanketed to the 
 ears, while standing in the street, with the 
 thermometer at 60, and the sun shining. 
 
 Fully half the horses we see on the 
 street are stiff, or more or less lame. 
 
 Now there must be something wrong to 
 account for all this. 
 
 Some persons have ascribed it, in rather 
 a nebulous way, to the effects of civiliza- 
 tion. But how does civilization act upon 
 
the horse, to produce this result ? Others 
 again lay all the blame on the horse's shoes, 
 and the farrier is found fault with. 
 
 Those who refer all this trouble to civil- 
 ization, instance the horses of semi-civil- 
 ized people, that are exceptionally hardy, 
 although they receive little care, and a 
 great deal of bad and cruel treatment. 
 Those who put all the blame on the shoes 
 and the farrier, cite these same people in 
 evidence, and because they never shoe 
 their horses, therefore, the argument is, 
 they never get stiff or lame. 
 
 I think I shall be able to show how 
 civilization injures the horse, and at the 
 same time makes shoeing necessary. 
 
 When we inquire into the natural 
 history of the horse, we find that he is. 
 
lO 
 
 pre-eminently^ an outdoor animal. In his 
 wild state he is never housed. Night and 
 day he is in the open air. Rain or shine, 
 cold or hot, in storms of all degrees, 
 he has no protection. He never creeps 
 into caves for shelter, like the bear ; nor 
 does he burrow, like the rat or beaver. 
 He is not a nest builder, nor a nest seeker. 
 He stays in the open, seeking the lee side 
 of a hill, or thicket, perhaps, and herding 
 together to find protection. His instincts 
 keep him from going i7ito thickets for cover 
 to avoid the attacks of carnivora. He 
 seeks safety by flight, and therefore pre- 
 fers the open plain. 
 
 If we notice the things around and 
 about us, we must see that the horse 
 never suffers from cold as man suffers 
 from it. 
 
II 
 
 No one has ever seen a horse with his 
 ears frozen, nor his feet frozen, no matter 
 how much exposed to the bitterest cold. 
 But many of ns have had personal experi- 
 ence of frozen ears, and I have seen many 
 persons with frozen feet, involving the loss 
 of the whole foot, and this, in spite of 
 wollen stockings and warm, thick shoes, 
 and at the same time, not exposed to 
 nearly the degree of cold that the horse 
 resists without detriment. 
 
 When we undertake to care for an ani- 
 mal, the first and most essential thing is 
 to place him as much as possible in his 
 natural environment. 
 
 A musk-ox cannot live much below 
 the confines of the Arctic region. When 
 seals are placed in the aquarium of a 
 
12 
 
 museum, they would die if the tank was 
 not kept constantly supplied with ice. 
 The common domestic rabbit will thrive 
 in a warren ; it is a burrowing animal, and 
 needs protection from the cold. The hare, 
 or our common wild field rabbit, would die 
 in a warren ; it must have free, fresh air, 
 which the common domestic rabbit does 
 not need, and could not stand. The hawk 
 would die in a cage in a parlor, while the 
 canary bird thrives there and would die 
 of cold if exposed to conditions that are 
 essential to the hawk. 
 
 So it is with the horse. His nature re- 
 quires an abundance of fresh air all the 
 time^ and he cannot be well, or do well, 
 without it. 
 
 We thoughtlessly compare a horse 
 
13 
 
 with ourselves. Man, who is a house- 
 building animal, requiring warm clothing, 
 artificial heat, and cooked food, fancies 
 that he must place a horse in surround- 
 ings that would be comfortable to himself. 
 So he wraps him up in a blanket, and 
 puts him in a warm close stable. If he 
 has the means, and values his horse 
 highly, he builds him a stable with 
 matched hard wood, oiled and polished, 
 and ceils it tight overhead. He puts in 
 glazed windows, so as to have plenty of 
 light, and a ventilating shaft, perhaps a 
 foot in diameter, in the ceiling, with a clos- 
 ing valve, which is always shut in cold 
 weather, and when left open, ventilates the 
 stable about as much as taking a cork 
 out of a bottle ventilates a bottle. He 
 
14 
 
 puts him knee-deep in straw, or on a good 
 thick bed of saw-dust, and then imagines 
 his horse is happy. He gives him the best 
 of oats, and hay, and water, and would 
 give him fried oysters and chicken salad if 
 the horse would eat it, simply because 
 he likes such things himself. 
 
 Now he shuts his horse up in this way 
 to keep him warm and comfortable. He 
 believes his horse should be kept warm 
 because he himself needs warmth. He 
 quite ignores the fact that he does not try 
 to keep his own apartments warm by sim- 
 ply closing the doors and windows, but 
 uses stoves and heaters to keep the tem- 
 perature comfortably warm, letting in fresh 
 air from without. He knows that he would 
 be injured if the air became foul and close. 
 
15 
 
 But his dominant idea being warmth, he 
 loses sight of the fact, that in shutting 
 the horse up in a close room, to keep him 
 warm, he must of necessity poison him 
 with foul air. The consequence of this is, 
 that the horse rubs himself, and tears his 
 blanket, because he is too hot, or his skin 
 itches. He kicks against the enclosure 
 to break an opening to let in the air ; he 
 loses his appetite, and he gets stiff or 
 lame, or out of condition in some way. 
 
 Then comes veterinary therapeutics, and 
 endless contrivances, to correct what are 
 considered his vicious habits. 
 
 The trouble is, he is trying to make an 
 out-door animal live in-doors, and that 
 without giving him decent air to breathe. 
 He supplies himself with a constant 
 
i6 
 
 change of air, but seems to think that his 
 horse needs none. What he thinks most 
 important is warmth. He, in short, is try- 
 ing to keep a hawk as he keeps a canary, 
 or to force a field rabbit to burrow in a 
 warren. 
 
 A horse that gets enough to eat will not 
 be mjured by the cold^ nor suffer from it in 
 any way. 
 
 Major Arthur T. Fisher, late 21st Hus- 
 sars, in a book published in London, 1891, 
 referring to this subject, records many 
 things that are well worth repeating. 
 On page 8, et. seq,^ he says: ''Without 
 ''the requisite supply of fresh air, it is 
 "impossible to maintain horses in perfect 
 "health and condition. The wilful, pig- 
 " headed ignorance of grooms, in this re- 
 
17 
 
 "spect, is proverbial. They are so afraid 
 "that the horses under their charge will 
 "catch cold, and their coats will "stare," 
 "as it is termed, that they invariably stop 
 "up every crevice and ventilator in a 
 "stable, in cold weather, thereby thinking 
 "to secure the end they have in view, 
 "whereas they are all the time but taking 
 "the most certain steps to insure the very 
 " evil they would avert. It is well known, 
 "and I may say, an undisputed fact by 
 "all those who know anything about the 
 "subject, that horses, young horses espe- 
 " cially, on coming into stables from grass, 
 "are nearly always affected with throat, 
 " and often with lung ailments, in a greater 
 " or less degree, while assuming the reverse 
 " to be the case, and when they are removed 
 
i8 
 
 ^' from stables to grass, they rarely, if ever, 
 "suffer from tHe change, thus proving 
 "how absolutely essential pure air is to 
 "their well-doing. Despite all that has 
 " from time to time been advanced on this 
 "subject, excepting in large establish- 
 "ments, a well and properly ventilated 
 " stable seems to be the exception rather 
 "than the rule, and there are many of the 
 " larger establishments, which I could name 
 " if I chose, where such details are very 
 "unduly cared for, and the ventilation is 
 " by no means what it should be, although 
 "the fittings, etc., of the stable may be 
 "very smart and lavishly carried out in 
 "other respects and the horses' names 
 "painted up in gold letters, etc., and all 
 " that style of thing, I have very often in 
 
19 
 
 ^^ such stables been well nigh, stifled with 
 ''the overloaded atmosphere * * * . In 
 ''cavalry regiments, young horses which 
 "are purchased as remounts, are chiefly 
 "obtained in Ireland, and these come over 
 " thence, in batches, varying in number as 
 ''they are required. They are packed in 
 "cattle trucks, and started on their jour- 
 "ney, and often have to travel in severe 
 "weather, with no other protection from 
 " cold than their own coats. Yet, on their 
 "arrival, few, as a rule, seem any the 
 " worse for it, beyond fatigue and accidents, 
 "the result of kicks, etc., and it is very 
 " rarely, if ever, that they are affected with 
 "coughs and colds. They are nearly all 
 " brought straight from grass, yet, within a 
 " few days after being placed in stables, and 
 
20 
 
 "with every precaution taken to insure 
 " ventilation, the doors and windows of the 
 "stable being left open day and night, 
 " and but very few being placed in each 
 " stable, they nearly all suffer from coughs 
 "and colds, which generally end in stran- 
 " gles. During the autumn maneuvers of 
 " 1875, I was with my own regiment, and 
 "two other cavalry regiments, encamped 
 " for some days, in a place called Colony 
 " Bog, near Aldershot. It was a time to 
 "be remembered very ruefully by all who 
 " took part in them, by reason of its cheer- 
 "less, wet misery, for during the ten days 
 " we were there, I can truthfully assert, 
 "that it rained almost incessantly, day 
 " and night, and what, even in a dry sum- 
 "mer, was always more or less of a bog. 
 
21 
 
 became a lake. Until we had been tliere 
 for some days, exposed to all tbis incle- 
 mency of tbe weather, the horses had 
 not as much as even a single blanket to 
 cover them, and yet, notwithstanding this 
 exposure, though it is true, they were 
 affected by the cold and wet, (and it was 
 cold and wet), in other ways, colds and 
 coughs were unheard of. Again, at the 
 same time, an officer of my regiment 
 had, of necessity, to take out with him 
 into camp — he being short of horses — 
 an old and favorite charger, which, at the 
 time of her going out of the stables in 
 barracks, was suffering from a severe 
 cold. In a few days she was quite well 
 again. * * . If people would but give 
 their horses a chance of breathing the 
 
22 
 
 " air they should breathe, and which is so 
 
 " essential for them, they would save them- 
 
 " selves much anxiety and expense, con- 
 
 " sequent upon the frequent visits of the 
 
 '^ veterinary surgeon, and their horses 
 
 "would be more fit to look at, and more 
 
 "fit to go, than is but too often the case. 
 ♦ * * * 
 
 " Generally speaking, a horse does not 
 "catch cold from exposure. It is rather 
 "from the want of fresh, pure air, as I en- 
 "deavored to show at the commencement 
 "of this book (as above quoted in full). 
 "With mankind, a cold generally is fol- 
 " lowed by a cough ; with a horse the cough 
 "generally precedes the cold. A horse 
 " coughs, and the groom declares it to be 
 "nothing but a little stable cough. This 
 
23 
 
 "description should be rendered as a hot 
 "stable cough. In such a case, it is more 
 "than probable that, there being an utter 
 "absence of proper ventilation in the sta- 
 "ble, the impure vitiated air had irritated 
 ^' the mucous membrane, and so caused the 
 "cough. The irritation, unless treated 
 "promptly, spreads, and a cold is the re- 
 "sult; the horse gets dull and restless, 
 " refuses his corn, and all the several stages 
 "of a bad cold ensue; the nostrils dis- 
 " charge, the poor horse is perfectly 
 "wretched, the owner is obliged to walk, 
 " and has probably to pay a veterinary sur- 
 "geon a long bill, and all for the want of 
 "a little attention to proper ventilation." 
 The above is from an officer known as 
 one of the very best and most accom- 
 plished horsemen in England. 
 
24 
 
 His views of taking care of horses are, 
 However, entirely from tHe standpoint of 
 the horseman^ and in otHer parts of His 
 book I notice that he does not always 
 carry His deductions from the observed 
 facts to their logical conclusions. In his 
 chapter on the construction of stables, he 
 falls into the common error of thinking 
 and acting as if the horse might be injured 
 by too much fresh air, and therefore, in 
 many places, gives directions about wrap- 
 ping him up and regulating the amount 
 of ventilation permissable. 
 
 Not fully appreciating the physiological 
 principles involved that should govern in 
 this matter, he is prone to be misled by 
 his own subjectivities, and perhaps an 
 unconscious traditional bias, and therefore 
 
25 
 
 too often ignores what lie sees and records 
 as objective facts, in favor of some unscien- 
 tific fancies. 
 
 I have, however, quoted his facts and 
 observations freely because these accord 
 with my own experience, and as adding 
 very valuable testimony on this subject. 
 But to resume. 
 
 It is very well known that the young 
 horses that are brought from the west for 
 the eastern markets are kept out of doors 
 constantly, in all seasons of the year, with- 
 out shelter, except perhaps, in some cases, 
 an open shed for protection against the 
 worst storms, and they come east in ex- 
 cellent condition, clean-limbed, supple and 
 healthy. But very soon after their arrival 
 they are put in warm, close stables, and 
 
26 
 
 they suffer from sickness, and this is called 
 getting acclimated, when the truth is, they 
 get sick simply because deprived of the 
 pure air that is essential to their vigor 
 and health. 
 
 It matters not whether the air is hot, as 
 in our summers, or cold, as in our winters; 
 they equally enjoy it, and thrive only 
 when the air is pure and fresh. Coldness, 
 or heat, is of the smallest consequence. 
 Freshness is essential. Dryness, or damp- 
 ness, counts little. A horse will be per- 
 fectly well in a damp, dewy meadow, when 
 kept their night and day, and in all kinds 
 of weather. Dampness is nothing. Fresh- 
 ness is everything. 
 
 And now let us inquire why this fresh- 
 ness is so essential. 
 
27 
 
 When the blood has been distributed 
 to the various parts of the body, by the 
 arteries, and has served its purpose of nour- 
 ishing the tissues, it is picked up by the 
 venous capillaries, and carried back, by 
 the veins, to the heart, for redistribution. 
 It is now forced to go through a process 
 of purification before re-entering the arte- 
 ries. It comes back to the heart, purple 
 in color, loaded with carbon waste, and 
 the effete remains, of the growth and de- 
 cay of cells. Not one drop of that blood 
 is allowed to enter the arteries again until 
 it has passed through the lungs and been 
 exposed freely to fresh air. Not only this, 
 but the fluid contents of all the lympha- 
 tics, and of all the lacteals with their loads 
 of emulsed fat, and the new material. 
 
28 
 
 from tlie stomach and liver digestion, are 
 all mixed with the blood in the veins, on 
 its way to the lungs. Nature emphasizes 
 this process in a marked degree. Only a 
 portion of the blood is sent to the kidneys 
 for purification, and yet this purification 
 is essential to life. But in the case of the 
 lung circulation, every drop must go — 
 new material, and old material, — all must 
 receive the vivifying effect of fresh air. 
 Here, in the lungs, the blood is quickly 
 changed from purple to scarlet. The car- 
 bon wastes seize upon the oxygen of the 
 air, and are burned up, throwing off, as 
 the result, chiefly carbonic acid gas, just 
 as a stove sets off carbonic acid gas by 
 the burning of coal. Various volatile sub- 
 stances are at the same time got rid of, 
 
29 
 
 which give more or less odor to the breath, 
 and these, with the carbonic acid, etc., are 
 exhaled by the animal with every breath. 
 Now, the result of this combustion of 
 material in the lungs is, as in the stove, 
 productive of heat and here we find the 
 great source of animal heat. Every time 
 the animal takes in a breath of air, it con- 
 sumes a portion of the oxygen of the air, 
 in making heat and carbonic acid, and as 
 this process goes on, ten or fifteen times a 
 minute, the air in a circumscribed space, 
 as in a close room or stable, becomes rap- 
 idly exhausted of oxygen and overloaded 
 with carbonic acid and other impurities, 
 and less and less fit to carry on the vital 
 processes. New oxygen must be supplied, 
 and the carbonic acid blown away. If it 
 
30 
 
 IS not supplied, as in the case of a close 
 stable, the purple, impure venous blood, 
 coming to the lungs, finds an inadequate 
 supply of oxygen, and the changes so es- 
 sential to life are only partially effected. 
 The waste is not all consumed, and, con- 
 sequently, we have loss of animal heat not 
 only, but the unburned tissue waste is 
 carried back by the arteries to the tissues, 
 in spite of nature's care to prevent it, and 
 acts as a poison to the whole body. 
 
 Nature, truly, sets up certain vicarious 
 actions, to partially remedy the defect, but 
 is handicapped in its efforts. It sets the 
 kidneys to do extra work, and the urine 
 becomes loaded, and the kidneys may suf- 
 fer damage, for trying to do what should 
 have been done in the lungs. The skin 
 
31 
 
 takes on extra duty, and we have excessive 
 sweating ; and various scaly, itching, and 
 unsightly eruptions make their appear- 
 ance. 
 
 These unburned and poisonous tissue 
 wastes affect the muscles, and stiffness of 
 the shoulder manifests itself, or weakness 
 of the back, or muscular defect somewhere. 
 The hoofs become slowly impaired and 
 lose their toughness, and become brittle 
 and weak. The nervous system suffers, 
 and the animal loses vivacity, vigor and 
 endurance. Touching the brain, you have 
 the temporary delirium, known as ''blind 
 staggers." Affecting the co-ordinating 
 centres, you have stumbling and ''string- 
 halt." Settling upon the digestive tract, 
 "crib biting" and "wind sucking" and 
 
32 
 
 colic appear. Affecting the ligamentous 
 and bony parts, ''spavin" and ''splint" 
 result, and in tHe eye all those changes of 
 nutrition which result in partial or com- 
 plete blindness. I think it is not too much 
 to say, that about 98 per cent, of the disa- 
 bilities to which horses are at present lia- 
 ble are traceable to deficient oxidation of 
 the tissues, caused by withholding the 
 supply of fresh air which their nature re- 
 quires. 
 
 When a horse is violently exercised, all 
 the tissue changes are accelerated. The 
 heart beats quicker. The breathing is 
 hurried. Why ? Because there is more 
 waste tissue to be disposed of The blood 
 rushes to the lungs for more oxygen, and 
 the lungs hurry the breathing to meet the 
 demand. 
 
33 
 
 If the horse is in good condition, the 
 blood well oxydized, and the cells of the 
 various tissues thoroughly healthy, as in 
 a horse who has been liberally supplied 
 with fresh air, the blood rapidly takes up 
 the oxygen, the extra waste caused by the 
 exercise is burned up, and exhaled as car- 
 bonic acid gas, and becomes harmless. 
 
 Of course, the extra heat generated by 
 the increasing supply of waste, and its 
 rapid combustion in the lungs, warms up 
 the body, and, as the organism would be 
 seriously damaged if the temperature rose 
 above 99 degrees, the automatic mechan- 
 ism that regulates the temperature causes 
 an increased action of the sweat glands of 
 the skin, and the coat of the animal be- 
 comes wet with perspiration, or, merely 
 
34 
 
 moistened, in proportion to the violence 
 of the exercise and the state of the weather ; 
 and the evaporation of this perspiration 
 cools down the body and keeps it at the 
 normal temperature, and no harm to the 
 animal results. 
 
 But if the horse has been deprived of 
 his full allowance of air by a period of 
 close stabling, and his blood is only par- 
 tially oxydized when this fresh rush of 
 tissue waste is poured into the blood, the 
 lungs become congested because they are 
 behind their work and cannot dispose of 
 the extra load put upon them, and it is not 
 an uncommon occurrence for such horses 
 to die from this lung congestion in a 
 short time, or from a resultant pneumonia, 
 and if they recover at all, they are a long 
 
35 
 
 time in bad condition, to tlie great loss 
 and inconvenience of the owner. 
 
 Even if the horse escapes the immedi- 
 ate danger to the Inngs, the increased 
 waste, chiefly of the muscles, caused by 
 the severe exercise, increases the demand 
 for oxygen, and if he is taken back to his 
 accustomed close stable, where the supply 
 of oxygen is insufficient, his embarrass- 
 ment is very much aggravated, and the 
 blood becomes more loaded than before 
 with these unconsumed materials, which, 
 floating in the blood current, act, as I said 
 before, as poisons to the tissues, especially 
 to the muscles, which are supplied with 
 an enormous amount of blood, and there- 
 fore are much more exposed to the action 
 of these poisons ; and the muscles, being 
 
3^ 
 
 the motive power of the animal, are among 
 the first of the organs to show that they 
 suffer ; and it is after violent and continued 
 exercise that, in horses kept as described, 
 we often have an acute or sudden attack 
 of muscular breakdown, commonly called 
 "chest founder." 
 
 Now, it can be seen readily, I think, 
 that a horse in the condition above de- 
 scribed would have had a much better 
 chance to recover if, instead of being 
 closely stabled after the exercise, he had 
 been left for hours in the open air. That 
 might have given him the necessary oxy- 
 gen to dispose of his extra load of waste. 
 
 In speaking of the automatic action of 
 the heat regulators, alluded to before, it 
 might be as well to digress a little, and 
 
37 
 
 inquire as to the propriety of warmly 
 blanketing horses after severe exercise. 
 What is the condition of the animal that 
 comes in reeking with swxat ? It is cer- 
 tain that his body has been extremely 
 heated, as shown by his sweating. What 
 will happen if he is allowed to stand in 
 the open air ? The horse is still panting, 
 which shows that he is hurrying the com- 
 bustion of his tissue waste ; the heart is 
 beating quickly, to send the blood quickly 
 to the lungs, to have its burden of waste 
 products burned up, and consequently, 
 he is thereby still making an additional 
 amount of heat. If allowed to stand in 
 the open air, the extra heat being genera- 
 ted will quickly dry the coat, and as the 
 heat subsides, the hair will rise slowly, if 
 
38 
 
 the air is cool, or cold, and thus prevent 
 the too rapid dissipation of the heat, and 
 the animal resumes his condition as be- 
 fore. 
 
 The self-regulating heat apparatus will 
 bear some consideration, and it may as 
 well be spoken of in this connection. 
 
 When the air is mild, the coat will re- 
 main smooth. If the air becomes cooler, 
 the coat will rise, just in proportion to the 
 change of temperature, and becomes loose 
 and fluffy in the cold. This, practically, 
 thickens the coat and makes it warmer. 
 If, however, a horse that is sufficiently fed, 
 suffers from cold which the rising of the 
 coat is not adequate to relieve, another 
 automatic operation is set to work, and he 
 begins to shiver; that is, the muscles that 
 
39 
 
 move the skin, and whose common use is 
 to shake off insects that annoy the animal, 
 are set in motion all over the body, and 
 this adds to the heat production, by in- 
 creasing the waste of tissue, — just as the 
 exercise of the muscles of locomotion have 
 that effect when the animal is at work. 
 
 Now, if the air becomes warmer, or the 
 horse is exercised, the coat will slowly fall. 
 Thus, when it is necessary to keep in and 
 preserve the heat, the coat rises, and prac- 
 tically becomes thicker, just enough to pre- 
 serv^e the proper equilibrium of tempera- 
 ture, not allowing it to fall much below 
 99 degrees, and when it is necessary to 
 increase the heat dissipation, the coat falls, 
 or slowly becomes moist, just enough to 
 control the temperature from rising above 
 99 degrees. 
 
40 
 
 In a healtliy horse in summer, a reverse 
 action may be observed. If the animal is 
 standing or moving slowly in the hot sun, 
 the hair will be seen to rise, to shut off the 
 effect of the sun and to preserve the skin 
 from being too much heated. Here the 
 coat is practically thickened, to keep the 
 sun from injuring the skin — to keep the 
 heat out, — just, as in winter, the coat rises 
 to keep the heat in. 
 
 I have often noticed the rising of the 
 summer coat in the hot sunshine. It puts 
 on the appearance of cut velvet. The far- 
 mers say the horse raises his coat to keep 
 off the flies. 
 
 If, however, when the summer coat is 
 up against the sun's rays, you quicken his 
 motion, and consequently his internal fires, 
 
41 
 
 down will go his coat, and moisture will 
 begin to appear. He is now cooling him- 
 self, by the process of evaporation, just as 
 he does with his winter coat in cold weather. 
 We have been considering the condition 
 of a horse just brought in after severe ex- 
 ercise. Shall he be closely stabled and 
 blanketed ? I have tried to show that this 
 is not good practice. Scarcely any one 
 would think of throwing him a mess of 
 grain immediately. Yet there is a phy- 
 siological reason for this, which it might 
 be well to consider. When a horse is 
 brought in hot and sweating, we have 
 shown that this condition is owing to the 
 rapid combustion of his tissue waste. He 
 has now all he wants to do until he cools 
 off by the evaporation of the wetting na- 
 
42 
 
 ture has given him and the gradual sub- 
 sidence of his internal fires. If we now 
 give him a mess of grain, we are adding 
 fresh fuel to the fires, as the newly diges- 
 ted grain is poured into the blood and 
 carried on into the lungs, increasing the 
 work of the lungs. Thus scientific theory 
 is perfectly in accordance with the ordinary 
 practice of horsemen in this particular. 
 
 Whether the withholding of water is of 
 so much importance, I am not prepared to 
 say. There seems to be some difference 
 of opinion on that subject. It is proba- 
 bly safer to err on the side of care. Yet 
 the loss of water, by the sweating of the 
 animal, would seem to indicate that the 
 loss should be made good, and his thirst 
 will always induce him to drink. If the 
 
43 
 
 water was warmed, it could not do harm, 
 and might be of great advantage, by in- 
 creasing the fluidity of the blood. The 
 practice in regard to this seems to vary in 
 different localities, and experience ought 
 to settle the question. 
 
 But it can only be settled satisfactorily 
 by experience with horses that have not 
 been closely confined in stables, because 
 horses that have been deprived of their 
 full allowance of air for any considerable 
 time are in a pathological condition, and 
 what would obtain with them could not 
 be predicated of horses in perfect health. 
 The experience of our "cowboys" would 
 be of value on this point. It is a common 
 practice, however, of many owners of horses 
 in the South and West to ride their horses 
 
44 
 
 until they are reeking witli sweat, let them 
 drink when they please, and leave them 
 in the open air, without protection of any 
 kind. But these horses, if stabled at all, 
 are kept in stables about as fresh as out- 
 doors. 
 
 I have spoken of the automatic arrange- 
 ment for regulating and maintaining a 
 normal temperature existing in a healthy 
 horse. When horses have been too closely 
 stabled the delicacy of this mechanism is 
 impaired. Their skins seem to be unnat- 
 urally wet, and the perspiration oozes out 
 on the slightest exertion, and when in 
 their summer coats a very short drive will 
 give them the appearance of being var- 
 nished. This is looked upon by many as 
 a marvel of skillful grooming. It is sim- 
 
45 
 
 ply a pathological condition — a sort of 
 colliquative sweat. When in winter coat 
 it causes so mucli inconvenience that it 
 has induced a practice, now quite general, 
 of clipping or singeing — removing the 
 winter coat entirely, — and this seems to 
 be necessary, and even advantageous, un- 
 der these circumstances. 
 
 But this whole trouble, this inordinate 
 sweating, this ''leaky skin," is produced 
 by the poisonous action of the unconsumed 
 tissue w^aste, caused by the deprivation of 
 oxygen, acting probably through the vaso- 
 motor nerves, deranging the delicate ad- 
 justments so essential to health. 
 
 I wish here to call attention to a fact 
 which is a matter of common observation. 
 
 It has often been noticed that horses 
 
46 
 
 will sometimes shiver in a close stable in 
 cold weather. The thing that naturally 
 suggests itself to the keeper is a blanket, 
 and I have known at least three blankets 
 to be applied, and the animal would shiver 
 still. Now, paradoxical as it may at first 
 appear, this shivering is produced by the 
 closeness of the stable, and if the animal 
 is taken outdoors this shivering will in a 
 short time cease. It will be remembered, 
 as has been stated before, that the great 
 source of animal heat is the oxidation of 
 the tissues. If the animal is kept in an 
 enclosure where the oxygen supply is de- 
 ficient, he cannot bum his tissue waste 
 well, and therefore cannot keep up his 
 heat ; he is cooling down too much. If 
 you cut off the supply of material to be 
 
47 
 
 burned, as in starving animals, they will 
 sHiver too. It makes no difference, as to 
 tlie production of animal heat, whether 
 you give insufficient food or insufficient 
 oxygen. The result as to heat production 
 will be the same, just as in a stove you 
 get similar results from using little fuel 
 or shutting off the draft. In other words, 
 you get the same objective symptom of 
 shivering whether you starve the animal 
 by withholding food or withholding oxy- 
 gen. 
 
 When food supply is in excess, espec- 
 ially if the amount of fresh air is limited, 
 nature has a fashion of relieving the blood 
 of the excess of carbonaceous material by 
 storing it up as fat — and especially as 
 subcutaneous fat, — and the animal, instead 
 
48 
 
 of burning the excess or excreting it in 
 any way, packs it up for future use, and 
 in this way renders it harmless. 
 
 Now this is all very well for a prize ox 
 intended for the shambles or exhibition at 
 a county fair, but the excess of fat is an 
 encumbrance to the horse, by its added 
 weight not only, but a heavy layer of fat 
 under the skin, by its non-conducting 
 properties, keeps in the animal heat, and 
 in one that is driven rapidly is a serious 
 impediment, and requires a more profuse 
 perspiration to preserve the equilibrium 
 of temperature. All practical horsemen 
 know this, and avoid driving a very fat 
 animal at a rapid rate. Horses used for 
 racing are "trained down" by active ex- 
 ercise, to prevent this accumulation, and 
 
49 
 
 instead of fatness we have force. Some 
 persons take great pride in having their 
 horses look fat, and smooth, and plump ; 
 and this is all very well for those who like 
 it and are satisfied with a three- or four- 
 mile-an-hour gait, but it will not do for 
 rapid traveling. It will answer for a mill 
 horse or a brewer's team, but not for a 
 roadster, or a trotter, or a hunter. 
 
 I think I have now shown sufficiently 
 how civilization, or at least our civiliza- 
 tion, causes the infirm condition of our 
 horses, and how it necessitates the use of 
 shoes, because horses kept as our horses 
 are commonly kept cannot be driven with- 
 out shoes. The hoof will not get used to 
 it, and every trial of this kind will result 
 in failure. 
 
50 
 
 But if we consider the subject carefully, 
 we must see that all people who use their 
 horses without shoes have one thing in 
 common, and only one thing, and it is 
 this : that none of them have stables. 
 
 There is no exception to this rule. 
 Therefore, if w^e wish to dispense with 
 shoes, we must dispense with stables. But 
 it is next to impossible to dispense with 
 stables, absolutely so in cities and towns. 
 
 A stable, then, must be looked upon as 
 a necessary evil, and our aim should be to 
 minimize the evil, or, if possible, eliminate 
 it entirely. The evil is in the restricted 
 supply of oxygen, and this can only be 
 corrected by making the stable as fresh as 
 the pasture ground or the prairie. 
 
 I have been experimenting in this way 
 
51 
 
 for the last five years, and I find that a 
 stable can be built that will give absolutely 
 the same results as are gotten by dispens- 
 ing with them altogether, and the horses 
 kept in such stables can be used without 
 shoes, either in harness or under the 
 saddle. 
 
 I have driven my own gig horse without 
 shoes for nine months — winter, spring 
 and summer, — and my saddle horse has 
 not been shod in a year, although riding 
 him from March to December over ma- 
 cadam roads, boulder stone pavement, vit- 
 rified brick, and country roads, and his 
 hoofs are perfect. Everyone knows that 
 saddle work is harder on the feet than 
 work in harness, and my usual weight 
 is 170 pounds. His feet wear true and 
 
52 
 
 smooth, and His liind feet keep their points, 
 are nicely oval — we may say spoon-shaped, 
 — his front feet are slightly worn at the 
 toes — rounded a little, just as an iron 
 shoe wears at this point. The farriers 
 and veterinarians who have seen him, and 
 known how much and how long I have 
 used him without shoes, consider the re- 
 sult as very wonderful. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to recount the 
 advantages of this method. Besides the 
 expense and trouble of sending a horse to 
 the shop to have him shod, at least a dozen 
 times a year, he, of course, never ''cuts" 
 himself — he is in no danger of "calking" 
 himself, an accident so common in winter 
 when sharp-shod ; he is not subject to 
 "capped elbow," he never "balls" in snow. 
 
53 
 
 and lie does not slip on the ice. This I 
 know from personal observation. Neither 
 does he slip on wet and slippery asphalt 
 or vitrified brick, or any of the smooth- 
 faced pavements of cities, which have been 
 so much complained of by horsemen as 
 dangerous on account of their extreme 
 slipperiness in wet weather. 
 
 I have carefully compared the growth 
 of the hoof of an animal stabled as de- 
 scribed with that of horses brought from 
 city stables and turned to pasture without 
 shelter for a course of four or five months. 
 If one will observe the effect on the nutrition 
 of the hoof that occurs in a horse that has 
 long been closely stabled and is then 
 turned outdoors to pasture, he will see 
 that this effect can easily be recognized by 
 
54 
 
 the naked eye. The hoof grows about a 
 quarter of an inch per month, so that in 
 three months three-quarters of an inch of 
 new hoof will have been formed. It is so 
 different that its growth can be followed 
 by the eye, month by month. Its grain 
 is finer, its surface smoother, it is much 
 bluer in color, and it is also a little smaller 
 in diameter — about one-sixteenth of an 
 inch on each side. This can be followed 
 in a pasture field, for about five months, 
 to the closing of the pasture season, and 
 is accounted for by the farmers as due to 
 the dampness of the ground and the dew 
 on the pasture. But I have followed it 
 through the entire year in a stable that is 
 absolutely fresh, and have compared the 
 hoofs grown in such a stable with those 
 
55 
 
 grown in a pasture field, and they are 
 absolutely identical. But when the horses 
 are taken from the pasture and put back 
 in their accustomed close stable, the re- 
 verse change will be observed. If the hoof 
 is washed so as to expose its surface, the 
 changes in the growth of the hoof will be 
 quite distinct. Now it will be coarser, 
 rougher, and less blue — or rather grayish 
 — and a little larger. Five months in 
 open pasture will give about one inch and 
 a quarter. Seven months of close stabling 
 will give one inch and three-quarters, mak- 
 ing about three inches as the length of 
 the hoof It is a little more than this, 
 but the difference is here practically of 
 no consequence. Now the last inch and 
 three-quarters, of course, is grown last, 
 
56 
 
 and therefore that will be above, and the 
 inch and a quarter of good hoof, having 
 grown in the pasture the summer before, 
 will be below, and that you will find if the 
 foot is examined in the spring. I have 
 observed it in scores of farmers' horses, in 
 the spring, when there happened to be 
 snow on the ground, which washed the 
 feet in coming to town and exposed the 
 grain of the hoof to view as they were 
 standing on the street. It was the great 
 difference in the hoof grown in the open 
 air from the hoof grown in an ordinary 
 stable that attracted my attention, and 
 when I found I could preserve this open 
 air character, and continue its growth 
 during the whole year, I determined to 
 test its strength practically, and the result 
 I have already stated. 
 
57 
 
 If you divide the time necessary to grow 
 a new hoof from the matrix (coronet) to 
 the free edge, which requires about twelve 
 months, and keep the animal four months 
 in the open air and then four months in a 
 closed stable, and then again four months 
 in the open air, an examination of the hoof 
 then will show three bands of growth, 
 easily distinguishable. At the free edge 
 about one inch of good healthy strong 
 hoof, the first grown of the series, then 
 about one inch of rough, weak hoof, formed 
 in the second four months, while in the 
 closed stable, then about one inch of good 
 hoof, extending to the matrix (coronet), 
 and grown during the time of the last four 
 months, in the open. I have occasionally 
 observed such hoofs. In observing these 
 
58 
 
 changes in the character of the hoof, it is 
 of course necessary that in alternating 
 between close stabling and open air, the 
 transition should be sharp and decisive, 
 otherwise the result will not be clearly 
 defined. It is very well marked in the 
 case of farmers who shut their horses up 
 very closely in banked-stables during the 
 winter, using them but little, and keep- 
 ing them outdoors most of the time in the 
 warmer months. If the alternations are 
 irregular, or not pronounced, the result 
 will be correspondingly confused and ob- 
 scure. 
 
 This change of nutrition extends from 
 what we can see to what we cannot see. 
 
 It would scarcely be reasonable to sup- 
 pose that one part of the hoof — the outer 
 
59 
 
 shell, for instance — would undergo a 
 change of nutrition so marked and ob- 
 servable without corresponding change in 
 other parts of the hoof The sole would 
 necessarily be effected in the same man- 
 ner and degree. 
 
 I had an accidental illustration of this 
 in my own horse, while driving one day in 
 February, when the weather was cold, and 
 with a few inches of snow on the ground, 
 I noticed that he suddenly limped for a 
 few paces. As this had not occurred be- 
 fore, it attracted my attention. It passed 
 off immediately, however, and I thought 
 no more of it, as he traveled over the 
 frozen streets without showing any dis- 
 comfort, and trotted into the carriage- 
 house, with its hard plank floor, without 
 
6o 
 
 any sign of inconvenience. On acciden- 
 tally taking up his front foot, as I was in 
 the habit of doing occasionally, to my sur- 
 prise I found a ten-penny cut nail which 
 had entered the cleft of the frog and was 
 bent over and lying flat on the sole. On 
 taking hold of it, I found it quite loose, 
 but could not get it out, and the hostler 
 coming up, seized it with pincers and 
 pulled it out, tearing the frog somewhat 
 in doing so. On examining the nail, the 
 end was found bent around in the form of 
 a hook, which accounted for the difficulty 
 in pulling it out, and likewise, for the 
 tearing of the frog. Now this nail, which 
 was a new one, must have been straight 
 when it entered the frog, and could only 
 have been bent by encountering the hard 
 
6i 
 
 and tough laminae of the sole. When the 
 point first impinged against the sole, as it 
 was driven in by the blow of the foot, it 
 was felt, and caused lameness for a few 
 steps, but being deflected, and its point 
 bent round, it could go no further, and the 
 subsequent blows of the foot flattened it 
 against the sole, and it caused no more in- 
 convenience. The horse showed no lame- 
 ness afterward, and I doubt if it would 
 have caused any trouble had it remained. 
 I have known horses to have the sole of 
 the foot penetrated, with considerable 
 bleeding, by accidentally stepping on the 
 sharp point of a dry lilac-stock that had 
 been cut off obliquely. What would be- 
 come of wild horses if their feet were so 
 vulnerable ? How long would they escape 
 the wolves ? 
 
62 
 
 At tHe risk of a little apparent repeti- 
 tion, I wisli to refer a moment to the effect 
 of dryness and humidity upon the hoof. 
 It will be observed that as the hoof grows 
 during the winter — that is, for the five 
 months from the first of November to the 
 first of the following April, — the coarse, 
 weak hoof that is grown in the closed 
 stable during that time gradually pushes 
 down before it the portion of good hoof 
 that was grown during the previous sum- 
 mer — that is, in July, August, September 
 and October, — and in the spring — that is 
 to say, in April, May and June — the wear 
 will be entirely on this good portion of the 
 hoof. But by about the first of July this 
 part of the hoof will be worn out and the 
 wear will begin on the weak winter growth, 
 
63 
 
 and this will continue during tHe rest of 
 the summer and the following fall, and 
 the difference in the strength of the two 
 growths will be noticeable. This has given 
 rise to the belief, which is very general, 
 that the hot dry roads of this season of 
 the year have caused the hoof to become 
 weak and brittle, not perceiving that the 
 animal is really wearing upon the weak 
 growth of the previous winter, and its 
 weakness and brittleness are owing to its 
 having been grown in a closed stable, and 
 not to the hot, dry roads. So in the spring 
 and early summer, when the hoof seems 
 stronger and better, its condition is thought 
 to be owing to the coolness and wetness of 
 the roads. It is therefore a common belief 
 that wetness and moist roads are good for 
 
64 
 
 a horse's feet, not understanding that at 
 this time the strong portion of the hoof 
 grown in the previous summer and early 
 fall is bearing the strain. 
 
 Now it must be apparent that dryness 
 or wetness cannot be important factors as 
 effecting the strength or condition of the 
 hoof, else why is the hoof equally good in 
 Ireland, where it is almost constantly wet 
 and cool, and in Arabia, where it is almost 
 constantly dry and hot ? Anyone who has 
 noticed the hoofs of dead horses lying in 
 the fields, not only for months, but for 
 years, without *any perceptible change, 
 must see that wet does not soften them or 
 dryness make them friable, nor even freez- 
 ing cause their disintegration. The hoof 
 is not hygroscopic to any appreciable ex- 
 
65 
 
 tent anymore than a bull's horn. If it 
 were otherwise, horses that are worked in 
 water, or on muddy roads, for weeks at a 
 time, as they constantly are, would be very 
 soon disabled, and horses that traverse the 
 hot and sandy deserts of Arabia would 
 soon have nothing of the foot left but a 
 friable, broken-up mass of crumbling hoof. 
 
 And thus we can see how futile must be 
 the effect of poultices and wet applications 
 and the various hoof ointments that are 
 so much relied on to improve the texture 
 and condition of the hoof They simply 
 produce the effect of a temporary varnish, 
 improving, perhaps, its appearance, and 
 thus deceiving the eye without affecting 
 in any way its substance. 
 
 Any change in the quality and texture 
 
66 
 
 of a hoof must be effected at the time of 
 its growth at the matrix. 
 
 When a layer of hoof is formed, the work 
 is completed so far as the active vital pro- 
 cesses are concerned. These vital pro- 
 cesses are active only within the hoof, in 
 the sensitive parts, not in the outer insen- 
 sitive parts — the hoof proper, as distin- 
 guished from the foot, — and the hoof be- 
 comes, and is to all intents and purposes, 
 an inorganic product. It has the proper- 
 ties of hardness, elasticity, toughness and 
 durability. It is insensitive, and resists 
 decay or change, whether on the living 
 animal or removed from the foot, and its 
 removal makes no difference in these pro- 
 perties. 
 
 It is as resistant to change as ivory or 
 
67 
 
 whalebone. Its quality depends on the 
 condition of the blood of the animal at the 
 time of its formation. As it was formed, 
 so it remains, and it can only be modified 
 by conditions that effect its nutrition as 
 it is gradually being constructed. 
 
 And now we can truthfully say, — ^'' a 
 pede herculem^^ — as the foot is, so is the 
 horse. If by securing and maintaining a 
 perfectly healthy environment for our ani- 
 mal, we get perfect feet, all the other tissues 
 of the body will share in the betterment. 
 
 But no one must suppose that a horse 
 kept as I have described will go without 
 shoes in a few weeks, or months. If used^ 
 he must be kept shod for at least a year, 
 because it takes that length of time to 
 grow an entire hoof, and he must not be 
 
68 
 
 allowed to contract "tlmish," and if lie is 
 suffering from "thrush," it must be cured, 
 or otherwise his frog will be tender and he 
 will not be able to go. Of course, no horse 
 should be allowed to have thrush, as it is 
 produced by standing on fermenting dung, 
 and is evidently microbic in its nature. 
 It is therefore easily preventable, and is 
 cured by a number of microbicides, such 
 as carbolic acid, sulphate of zinc, corrosive 
 sublimate, etc. But perhaps the most 
 convenient is dry calomel. 
 
 I have spoken of this, rather more in 
 detail than I otherwise would, even trench- 
 ing a little on medication, which is rather 
 the province of the veterinarian, and some- 
 what foreign to the general line of thought 
 we have been pursuing, because " thrush " 
 
69 
 
 is among tHe few diseases that are not de- 
 pendent upon the condition of the air, but 
 is due to the pollution of the stall by the 
 excrement of the animal. 
 
 Here let us observe, that the horse, one 
 of the cleanliest and most fastidious of 
 animals, does not seem to possess these 
 traits when stabled. This plainly shows 
 that he was never intended to be stabled. 
 Nest-building or nest-hunting-animals are 
 always tidy about their sleeping places. 
 Everybody must have observed that dogs 
 never soil their beds, and this is true, in 
 every instance, and of all such animals ; 
 even the hog, that was certainly never 
 noted for his neatness, has this instinct. 
 But the horse is entirely indifferent to, 
 and exercises no care in this matter at all. 
 
70 
 
 Why? Simply because a nest is foreign 
 to his nature. When he urinates, how- 
 ever, he carefully extends his fore legs, 
 to avoid having them spattered and soiled. 
 He uses care here. But when you put 
 him in a stable and force him to sleep in a 
 nest, contrary to his nature, his instincts, 
 not having been educated to the caring for 
 and keeping of a nest, are at fault, and 
 necessarily so in an animal whose home 
 is the open plain, and who seldom, or 
 never, sleeps twice in the same spot, but 
 finds a fresh place to rest whenever his 
 needs require. 
 
 In whatever direction we look, whether 
 we take into view his natural history, and 
 study him in his wild state, or as we find 
 him among savage or semi-civilized peo- 
 
71 
 
 pies, or, as lie is under our own care, ob- 
 serving his Habits and bis instincts, and 
 tbe diseases and disabilities to which he is 
 subject, we cannot fail to recognize the 
 fact that in his whole organization and 
 development he is a free, wild, roaming 
 child of the air, without local habitation, 
 gathering his food where it grows, seeking 
 it wherever it may be found, and migrat- 
 ing from place to place, as suits his com- 
 fort and convenience. When we catch 
 him and restrain him of his liberty, for 
 our own use, and teach him to do our bid- 
 ding, we must not restrain him of his right 
 to breathe his native air, and we must also 
 be careful to supplement his lack of the 
 nest-keeping instinct by taking care of his 
 nest for him. 
 
72 
 
 These two things are essential to his 
 well-being : pure air to breathe and a clean 
 stall to stand in. 
 
 It is not my intention to describe, mi- 
 nutely, how a stable should be built. The 
 details of this must depend on varying 
 and varied conditions. It should, however, 
 be supplied with plenty of windows, but 
 without any glass in the sash. Wire 
 screening, of about one eighth inch mesh, 
 is much better, as it lets in both light and 
 air, and at the same time shuts out the 
 larger flies and other insects, and protects 
 the horse from annoyance by children and 
 other thoughtless or malicious persons, 
 and causes the air to come in slowly and 
 steadily, without much blowing. There 
 should be no shutters on these windows. 
 
73 
 
 as tlie stablemen are sure to shut tliem 
 on cold or stormy nights and in wintry 
 weather. I say this from personal expe- 
 rience, as I was obliged to have them re- 
 moved from my stable for this very reason. 
 They should be protected, however, by a 
 hood, or some other contrivance, to keep 
 out driving rain, or drifting snow — not 
 that rain or snow would hurt the horse, 
 for it would not, but is inconvenient and 
 unpleasant for the attendants and owner. 
 How this is to be done is a matter for the 
 builder or architect to manage. 
 
 My stable has a ten-foot overhang on 
 the north side, and most of my windows 
 are on that side. Only one window on the 
 east gives me any trouble at all in this 
 way, but as the snow falls on the floor, in 
 
74 
 
 front of the manger, it is easily swept np, 
 and gives me no concern. 
 
 The ventilators should be large and ar- 
 ranged at the discretion of the builder. 
 But they must be ventilators in fact, and 
 not alone in name. They should have no 
 closing valve, for they should remain open 
 all the time. It should be remembered, 
 however, that to maintain an air current, 
 requires the expenditure of force, and this 
 must be provided for in some way. In 
 winter I find nothing better than an open 
 grate fire in the stable, and in summer I 
 have found that the sun's rays falling on 
 the roof and front of the building can be 
 utilized, and is sufScient to excite a satis- 
 factory current, and is quite inexpensive. 
 This, however, is a matter of mechanical 
 detail. 
 
75 
 
 But it must not be forgotten that a sta- 
 ble requires much more air than a dwell- 
 ing house. Aside from the fact that a 
 horse requires more fresh air than a man, 
 from his original nature and constitution 
 — not being an animal that in his wild 
 condition seeks any shelter, — aside from 
 this, I say, his habits differ very much from 
 those of man. 
 
 As I have already said, he urinates in 
 his stall, or box, and drops his dung w^here 
 he stands, and this requires an extra allow- 
 ance of air to keep down unpleasant and 
 unwholesome odors. What would be the 
 condition of the air in a bed-room if man 
 adopted the habits of the horse? And yet 
 we have seen that, ordinarily, man sup- 
 plies himself with a much larger amount 
 
76 
 
 of air than he gives his horse. Neither 
 should we forget that the air of a close 
 stable is a hotbed of microbic forms. All 
 kinds of pathological germs multiply here 
 with great rapidity, and if the horse is in- 
 jured by kicks, or other accidents, he will 
 be very liable to suffer from this cause, 
 and as tuberculosis and tetanus, especially 
 the latter, are common among horses, and 
 as these diseases are now considered of 
 microbic origin, his risks are increased by 
 this exposure. 
 
 Finally, the method of stabling we have 
 been advocating commends itself to us, 
 not only because it conserves the health 
 and well-being of the animal, but also as a 
 matter of convenience to the keeper. As 
 there are no window-shutters to be opened 
 
77 
 
 and shut, they require no attention; the 
 stable requires no airing in the morning, 
 because it is always aired ; and when being 
 cleaned and swept, the dust is immediately 
 carried out by the air currents, so as not 
 to be annoying. 
 
 But it should be distinctly understood 
 and remembered, that the inorganic dust 
 is much less harmful than the organic 
 dust — those microscopic germs, before 
 spoken of, which, though they cannot be 
 seen, are potent for evil, ^'the invisible 
 powers of the air," whose acquaintance we 
 have formed only in recent years, which 
 commit their depredations in the quiet, 
 and on the sly, and which revel most where 
 the air is most foul and most stagnant. 
 
 But of much more consequence is the 
 
78 
 
 fact that a horse may be kept in such a 
 stable, weeks and months, without injury. 
 
 As ordinarily kept, a horse must be 
 taken out and exercised at stated periods, 
 or he will suffer. But he may be abso- 
 lutely confined to such a stable without be- 
 ing taken out at all, especially if kept in a 
 box, and he will suffer no harm. He will 
 not get stiff, his legs will not ''stock," nor 
 will he lose his appetite. He will remain 
 perfectly well. I have seen this done so 
 often, in the last two years, that I cannot 
 be too positive about it. And this means 
 a good deal in long storms and inclement 
 weather of any kind. 
 
 To illustrate this, I will say, that during 
 the last two years I have seen a fine Ken- 
 tucky saddle horse so stiffened in the 
 
79 
 
 shoulders by hard riding and close stab- 
 ling that he had been condemned as per- 
 fectly worthless, and sold for a few dollars, 
 after having undergone all the traditional 
 treatment for that condition, for a long 
 time, without benefit. 
 
 This horse was so disabled that he could 
 hardly get in or out of the stable; he 
 could not step backward with his left 
 foot at all, being obliged to drag it when 
 moving, or trying to move, in that direc- 
 tion. This horse, kept as I have herein 
 indicated, and without any other treat- 
 ment whatever, in six months could be 
 ridden with little show of lameless, in one 
 year he moved nicely, and in eighteen 
 months was practically well. For the first 
 year, he was almost constantly in his box. 
 
8o 
 
 and only taken ont at long intervals. For 
 the first five months he was not taken out at 
 all, and yet his improvement was constant 
 and continuous. So these conditions, thor- 
 oughly maintained, conserve not only, but 
 at the same time restore health. Colonel 
 Ingersoll is reported to have said, that "if 
 he had made the world, he would have 
 made health catching, instead of disease." 
 That result to horses will be realized if 
 the conditions I have described are fully 
 complied with. 
 
 At the risk of seeming prolix, I will add 
 here, that I have seen a young horse, 
 "over at the knees," with swelled hocks, 
 and in bad condition generally, completely 
 recover in a year by this method, and re- 
 main well, though subjected to constant 
 
8i 
 
 hard usage, and tliat animal is still in per- 
 fect condition; and a horse so disabled 
 from what is commonly called "heaves," 
 that it could scarcely be driven, completely 
 cured in less than a year, and subsequently 
 sold as a sound animal. Cases of so-called 
 " sweeny," — paresis of the supra and infra- 
 spinatus muscles of the shoulder,— various 
 eye diseases, etc., have disappeared with- 
 out medication of any kind, under this 
 method, and during last winter (i892-'93), 
 the coldest winter we have had for years, 
 out of a dozen horses so kept, not one had 
 a cough or cold, or suffered from sickness 
 in any way, although I frequently saw, 
 on very cold days, the nostrils covered 
 with frost from the congealed vapor of the 
 breath. No horse was blanketed, and no 
 horse shivered. 
 
82 
 
 It will be found also that the behavior 
 of a horse leaving a cool, fresh stable on a 
 cold morning, is in marked contrast with 
 the conduct of a horse leaving a close, 
 warm one. 
 
 The former comes out quietly and 
 sprightly; he sniffs the cold air, but is 
 not unduly excited by it. He seems to 
 enjoy it without the least discomfort, 
 while the latter is nervous, restless, exci- 
 ted, sometimes shivers, can hardly be kept 
 quiet, and is difficult to control. Drive 
 the first-mentioned horse five miles or so, 
 and at the end of the drive he is just as 
 fresh and free as at the start — sometimes 
 even more so. He sweats, if at all, very 
 moderately, and he is quite ready for 
 another dash. The latter, after driving 
 
83 
 
 about the same distance, will lose spirit, 
 toss His head up and down, as if fatigued, 
 lop his ears, require the touch of the whip, 
 every little while, to prevent his lagging, 
 and move reluctant, as " the whining 
 school-boy, creeping like snail unwillingly 
 to school," — and instead of sweating on 
 his neck, shoulders and flanks, as in the 
 former case, will sweat profusely all over, 
 and to such a degree as to have forced 
 upon us the practice of clipping and singe- 
 ing, as before mentioned. On stopping, it 
 suggests the necessity of a blanket, which 
 is never needed in the case of the first- 
 mentioned horse, who can stop after a drive 
 in the cold air with perfect impunity. I 
 have seen my own horse,and he was a high- 
 strung and nervous animal, stand an hour 
 
84 
 
 tied to a post at the curbstone, after a drive, 
 when the thermometer was near zero, and 
 instead of being restless and impatient, 
 have found him quietly dozing. 
 
 The horse blanket then, instead of be- 
 ing, as many think, a positive necessity, 
 is merely a matter of fancy — ornamental, 
 perhaps, but quite unscientific, — giving 
 much more comfort to the owner than to 
 the animal. Personally, I never use one. 
 
 It should not entirely escape our atten- 
 tion, that when we cover a horse with a 
 blanket, no matter how much imaginary 
 pleasure it may afford us, we are really 
 only trying to protect the toughest part of 
 the animal, — his roof, as it were, where the 
 skin is the thickest, and the coat heaviest, 
 and the sensibility the least, — while the 
 
85 
 
 cold air has free access to the under parts 
 of the body, where the skin is the thinnest, 
 and the coat lightest, and the sensibility 
 much the greatest. 
 
 The truth of it is, we have not hereto- 
 fore been governed in these matters by 
 reason, but rather by a sickly sentimen- 
 tality and unknowledge. A horse cannot 
 speak. He is incapable of expressing his 
 wants, or feelings, in articulate language. 
 If he could, he would indulge in a great 
 deal of profanity, very likely. But to the 
 observant, he need not talk. When he 
 pricks up his ears, and is quick and vigo- 
 rous in his movements, his eyes bright, 
 and eats with a relish, and does not shiver, 
 one may safely come to the conclusion 
 that he is not unhappy. 
 
86 
 
 If what I have written is true, and it is 
 true, the greater part of veterinary medi- 
 cine will have to be rewritten. 
 
 All the diseases produced by the defi- 
 cient oxidation of tissue must be elimina- 
 ted, and aside from accidents, traumatisms, 
 etc., very many horse diseases, now recog- 
 nized, will go the way of '' miliary fever," 
 and such like afflictions of mankind that 
 flourished two or three hundred years ago, 
 when physicians shut their patients in 
 close rooms, stuffed cotton in the key-holes, 
 caulked the window and door cracks, 
 sweltered the sick under loads of blankets, 
 and gave hot drinks to sweat out disease, 
 until at last it was found that fresh air 
 and cleanliness had a value, and now even 
 the names of these diseases are found only 
 in medical text-books of a century ago. 
 
87 
 
 Tliere was, of course, some excuse for 
 these old doctors. Little was then known 
 of the functions and philosophy of respi- 
 ration, and even the existence of a pul- 
 monary circulation had hardly been dis- 
 covered, and was not at all understood. 
 But this excuse is not available for us in 
 the closing days of the nineteenth century, 
 and it is a sad commentary on the intelli- 
 gence of educated man, and we may add, 
 of the medical profession, that in this re- 
 gard we have retrograded instead of ad- 
 vancing ; and in caring for our horses, we 
 are practically behind the semi-civilized, 
 and even savage races. 
 
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 Cymmings School of Veterinary Medidnae* 
 
 Tufts University 
 
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