Illustrated Horse Breaking

by M. Horace Hayes

Unless when caused by disease, as, for instance, chronic sexual excitement in the mare, defects of vision, and pain in the legs or feet, which might make a horse refuse to jump, practically speaking, almost any riding or driving vice (I naturally exclude those vices that concern the veterinary surgeon, and not the breaker) can be overcome in time, say within a week or ten days; although I readily admit that I have been beaten in a few cases (about two per cent. of faulty horses) when my time was limited, or when I did not possess the experience I have since acquired.

I have had many hundreds of horses with various forms of “pain in the temper” pass through my hands, and, out of all these, selected from thousands of other animals, I met with only one or two which I would call incapable of being made serviceable on account of absolute idiocy. Hence, I conclude that cases of marked mental aberration are extremely rare in the horse. I do not think that I met with more than one horse which appeared incapable, from natural nervousness, of being rendered quite steady.

As the breaker has to work on the material at hand, and as he has no power to change the nervous organisation of the animal, however well he may establish the habit of implicit obedience, it is impossible for him to make a naturally sulky animal work with the gaiety of heart and pluck, that an honest horse will display.

Necessity for obtaining control over the Horse.—In order to fulfil the necessary conditions of safety for himself, the breaker should be able, by the system under which he works—to quote the words of that admirable horse-master, Professor Sample—to make the animal rideable and driveable before he is either ridden or driven. The breaker who employs the ordinary methods, is not alone exposed to danger when mounting, or even driving his pupils for the first few times; but also in the preliminary handling, unless, indeed, in the case of young foals. The advice to go boldly up to the horse and show him that you are not afraid of him, so freely tendered on such occasions, should be treated by its recipient as a piece of “cheap swagger,” or the outcome of pretentious ignorance; for, even granted that such a demeanour would efficiently soothe a terrified animal, or cow a treacherously-disposed one—suppositions that are altogether absurd—such counsel would in no way supply the necessary foolhardiness for such an undertaking. My advice to either amateur or professional is, never to give a horse a chance of doing wrong; so, in order to be consistent after having said this, I shall endeavour to describe a method by which any horse, unsecured, say, in a yard or loose box, can be brought under complete control with, practically speaking, no risk to the operator.

On the nature of the coercion to be applied to unruly Horses.—The only risk run in enforcing the obedience which it is absolutely necessary to exact from unruly horses, is that of spoiling the animal’s pluck and spirit—a contingency that can be incurred only when the fractiousness arises from “nervousness,” or from want of comprehension; for what we term pluck and spirit in the horse should have no taint of stubbornness. The coercion employed should, naturally, be limited to what would be sufficient to overcome the wilfulness; for we should never employ a general effect, when a particular one will answer our purpose. Thus, suppose we had a high-couraged, generous animal, that had been made difficult to mount by a bad rider, on various occasions, prodding the horse in the side with his toe, when attempting to get into the saddle, we might get control over the animal by Pratt’s twitch (see [page 113]), or by tying him head and tail, and then prove to him that we would not touch him with our toe, when mounting. The Rareyfying of such an animal for this or any similar fault, would be injudicious in the extreme; as it would, almost to a certainty, injuriously affect one of his most valuable qualities, namely, his pluck. As a sulky animal has little or no pluck to lose; we may well content ourselves in gaining his obedience without troubling ourselves much about any possible deterioration of his courage.

Punishment.—The chief practical reasons against the employment of punishment in the breaking of horses are: that it is very liable to fail in its object; and that it is calculated to break the spirit of high-couraged animals, and to increase the sulkiness of stubborn ones. Of course I don’t mean to say that a vigorous “shaking up,” and a sharp cut or two with a stick (for preference), or whip, is not advisable for stopping the exhibition of “calfish” tricks by a young colt. Owing to the galling failures I have had—they were not many, for I stopped in time—I have made it a rule for my own guidance, never to touch a mare, so as to hurt her, when breaking.

I am aware that punishment, pushed to extreme limits, has, often, proved efficacious in reducing an animal to obedience, when all other means have failed. As it would, then, amount to gross cruelty, I cannot recommend its adoption in this form.

Fatigue as a means of subjugation.—Fatigue may be used as a valuable adjunct to other means of breaking, but should seldom be employed alone; its effect, usually, appearing to be as transitory as the sensation itself. Thus, if we, while riding or driving a bolter, in order to cure him of his vice, allow him to run himself to a stand-still, we shall, in all probability, find the animal quite as ready, if not more so, to run away, the next time he is “fresh.” In such a case, the fact of the horse having been allowed to do the very thing he wanted to accomplish, in defiance of the wishes of his would-be master, can have no possible effect in forming in him the habit of obedience. Fatigue may, often, appear to be the sole cause of the quietness evinced by an animal under treatment of some of the breaking methods I describe. This, however, will, on investigation, be found to be incorrect. Even the fatigue caused in, say, rendering an unruly horse quiet to shoe behind, by keeping him on the ground and “gentling” him (see [page 157]), is out of all proportion small compared to the amount of control obtained. One of the best examples I know of the fact, that it is the feeling of powerlessness to rebel, and not the sensation of fatigue, that compels obedience by these methods, is furnished by the experiment of making a violent horse, like an Australian buckjumper, quiet to mount in the manner described on [page 197]; the effect produced being striking; the feeling of helplessness, evident; and the amount of fatigue, small.

Effect of the voice.—The human voice has a powerful controlling effect over the horse. To apply it to advantage, the same tone and the same word or words should be invariably used to express the same meaning. All ambiguity of sound should be avoided. The words employed should be expressed in a decided manner, and in a clear tone of voice. I have seen some very dangerous animals approached and handled by “shouting at” them, and adopting a resolute manner, when going up to them in the stable. A horse, undoubtedly, recognises the voice more quickly than the appearance of a man.

Personal influence in breaking.—For obtaining quick results, the breaker should have the horse entirely to himself; so that no disturbing influence may distract the animal’s attention. The great objection to the practice of personal influence, as a breaking agent, is that, although the animal may be perfectly obedient to the man who has had the exclusive handling of him, he may be refractory with other people, and may, even, jealously resent any interference from an outsider. I have frequently been struck with this fact when breaking savage horses who would, if they could help it, allow no one, except their groom, to meddle with them; for I always found that they were far more vicious to approach when their stable attendant was holding them, than when he was absent. We may often see the same trait of character evinced by dogs that would fly at any stranger who dared to touch them, as long as they were with their master; although they might be fairly amiable if he were not present. However much we may admire, in the abstract, this fidelity to one, in the horse, it is very apt to detract from the animal’s usefulness under civilised conditions, especially, if the owner be not regarded as the confidential friend in question. When the groom is the object of this exclusive form of affection, it is generally advisable to have him changed for a new man. If a horse has to be rendered serviceable for general, as well as particular use, the breaker should refrain from accomplishing his ends by the exercise of his own personal influence, and hence, should get him to obey by rein and leg, rather than by voice and petting.