Mange would be far less general than it is, did not the convenience or the prejudice of mankind predispose them to favor a "run at grass." The horse there placed is all at once taken from a stimulating diet, while, the groom being relieved of his charge, foulness accumulates upon the coat. The animal, instead of standing still and feeding upon nourishing provender, has to travel far and to distend the stomach with a watery substance before the cravings of hunger can be appeased and satiety impress the creature with a consciousness that existence has gathered a sufficient support. The quadruped while at grass is necessitated to be eating the major portion of both day and night; little leisure is left from the cravings of appetite for rest or for repose. No comfortable bed is placed beneath the jaded limbs. There may be an open shed under which all the inhabitants of the field are free to shelter themselves from the storms of autumn and from the colds of early morning. That building is, however, generally taken possession of by horned cattle, or by the victor of the steeds, and none but favorites are allowed to share the comfort of the tyrant.
It is assuredly true that the horse, in its primitive state, must have galloped over the plains free from human care and without a roof to harbor it. In a similar state man also must once have existed. The early Britons are described as walking about in painted costume, and as living on acorns and wild berries. Which of her Britannic Majesty's present subjects would like for six weeks in every year to return to the habits of our ancestors? The horse is even more artificial than man himself. It proves nothing, therefore, that the creature has existed upon the plain; any more than the possibility of rearing human beings apart from civilization can establish that the latter mode is beneficial to the body's development. Man has lost the desire for a wild existence. Then, why is the horse expected to be benefited by a return to the so-called natural state, although securely fenced from that freedom and extent of choice which primitive nature would have afforded?
Horses, when huddled together, often commit fearful injuries upon their companions. The creatures are unused to the society into which they are forced, and awkwardness is apt to be rude. Any want of manners in the heels of a horse is a serious business. But, to put upon one side so weighty an argument against the grass field, as foreign to the present subject,—all sorts of animals are there congregated. Some are turned out "to regain condition;" some to become "fresh upon the legs;" and some to live cheaply till their services are required. Others are allowed "a run," after some virulent disorder; and others merely to afford time for the eradication of obstinate disease. The pony, the cart-horse, the thorough-bred, and the roadster,—all are crowded together. All sizes and conditions meet as at a common table. Is it very wonderful, or much out of the scope of ordinary probability, if one of the creatures so exposed, so fed, and so tended, should engender mange? A few years back, the children kept at Yorkshire schools were much exposed to a similar affection. Those babes, however, had not been more accustomed to cleanliness than the horse, nor were they exposed to half the neglect which the animal at grass is obliged to endure. Is it then surprising that the lower creature should breed a disease like to that which afflicts the human being? Let mange appear in one, and the rest are prepared by exposure and unwholesome food to imbibe the disorder; the contagion rapidly spreads; posts and rails are loosened or overthrown by horses rubbing against them; or, should such things be wanting, constant irritation instructs instinct, and the miserable animals scrub one against the other in the open space.
Besides the grass field, foul lodging or filth and poor provender will breed mange in the horse, as the same causes operating upon the human subject will engender a like disorder. It is sad to think that with the horse, as years increase, ailments accumulate and strength departs; it is sad to think, that as the animal's life becomes more hard to sustain, its food is always the less nourishing and its labor the more exhausting; that as care is necessary, so is neglect encountered; that the wretched quadruped at length is sold to some costermonger, who, when he makes the purchase, nicely calculates how many days of labor the emaciated life is capable of before it is turned over to the knacker. Many a nobleman must have looked upon an animal in the last stage of a weary life which was formerly the companion of his pleasures. The rusty, lean, and worn-out carcass most probably was not recognized, or how must reflection have whispered that power was not given to turn away existence into wretchedness after willfulness had rendered the body less capable of sustaining suffering!
In the vast majority of cases this disease first appears in the mane, among the hairs of which a quantity of loose, dry scurf is perceptible. Before such a sign, however, is to be recognized, excessive itchiness is exhibited. The disease, once established, soon extends to the head, to the neck, to the withers, to the sides, to the loins, and to the quarters; only in very exceptional cases are the legs exposed to its attacks. As the disorder proceeds, the hair falls off, leaving vacant places upon the body; these have a peculiar, dry, acrid, and irritable appearance; they suggest that portions of the body have been scorched with quick-lime, so irregular, patched, and scabby are the parts just referred to. The integument in these places greatly thickens and is no longer soft and pliable as a lady's glove, but becomes corrugated or thrown into well-defined folds.
The hairs, however, are not all removed; a few and only a few remain; these cling with exceeding tenacity to the surfaces which their fellows have quitted. The force required to pull out one of these remaining hairs is somewhat surprising, and the hair being extracted, the roots, upon close examination, will be discovered enlarged and far more vascular than is usual.
The above are the broad and more obvious indications of mange. However, should the diseased locality be more minutely inspected, a number of small pimples are discerned; these elevations are clustered upon different spots. As they mature, the point of each contains a very slight quantity of gelatinous fluid; the vesicles ultimately burst; the contents exude and become dry through the absorption of the atmosphere, forming incrustations upon the surface. Add to this, the irritation provokes the diseased animal to scrub itself against any irregular, projecting surface which may be at hand. Raw places, frequently of magnitude, are often occasioned by the friction so rudely applied; from this source another set of crusts spring up. The places which are denuded, therefore, may present a very varied aspect, but still the parched appearance of the scurfy and dry skin affords the best external evidence of the presence of mange.
A MANGY PIECE OF SKIN.
