Among the reasons which led to the selection of the ox, rather than the horse, for dragging the plough or hauling sledges laden with farm produce, was the comparative cheapness of the keep of the former animal. During summer, the ox was mainly fed on grass, which was supplied by the common pasture. Winter found the poor beast living on a scanty diet of straw, with occasional meals of chaff. Therefore the yeoman who had only a few acres of land, with access to a waste or common, or the squire who possessed sufficient pasture to supplement his arable fields, discovered that bullocks formed the more economical team[1288]. Rogers estimates that the cost of keeping a horse between October 18th and May 3rd, during which term it could not graze, was nearly four times that of an ox[1289]. Again, beast for beast, the bullock was deemed to have proportionately a greater capacity for draught, that is, the strength of an ox was utilized to better advantage when the animal was put in traces, though for carrying burdens the horse was superior. The assumption seems always to have been that two oxen could, in the mean, drag as much as a good cart-horse. Though slow, the ox was surefooted, and on the old, undrained fallows it was invaluable, because its hoofs spread out as it tramped along. Not indeed that all breeds of this creature are invariably sluggish. The trotting bullocks of India are familiar to most folk, and Youatt relates that a British ox ran four miles on Lewes racecourse in sixteen minutes[1290]. Walter de Henley actually asserts that the ox is as quick at its work as the horse, but the context shows that this statement must be interpreted in a peculiar manner—he is comparing oxen with horses which are “pulled” by sullen, prejudiced workpeople. “Besides,” so runs the comment, “a plough of oxen will go as far in a year as a plough of horses, because the malice of ploughmen (la malyce des charuers) will not allow the plough [of horses] to go beyond their pace, no more [distance] than the plough of oxen (aler hors del pas nent ke la charue des buefs)[1291].”
Generalizations respecting such a subject as ox-labour must obviously, however, be accepted under reserve. The problem is not really simple. Arthur Young prepared elaborate tables to show the relative values of ox-labour and horse-labour, as applied to different soils under varying conditions[1292]. The balance of opinion, as expressed by Young’s calculations, is in favour of the ox[1293], but there are some important conclusions in a contrary sense. Fitzherbert anticipated Young’s verdict, though his assigned reason seems to indicate that he was parrying a difficult question. “For in some places an oxen-ploughe is better than a horse-plough, and in somme places a horse-plough is better[1294].” Oxen are preferable, he tells us, where there exist pastures into which the animals can be put on their return from work. Horses are better when the team has to be “teddered” on leas and balks (= unploughed, grassy strips), though, in practice, strange to say, they were not usually so tethered. A more cogent plea for the bullock is appended to this somewhat weak reason: “And oxen wyl plowe in tough cley, and upon hylly grounde, where-as horses wyll stande stll[1295].” This explanation carries weight, for it is on a steep hill slope that the superiority of the ox-team was always best seen. After the teachings of Jethro Tull, Lord Coke, and James Smith of Deanston, had borne fruit, and farmers had begun to drain their land, the horse came into serious competition with the ox. Even then, however, a cause which had, all along, operated against the horse, continued for some time to exercise a partial influence. This cause lay in the fact that too little attention had been paid to horse-breeding, but so soon as this art began to be practised, and powerful draught horses were, in consequence, developed, the change of system began in earnest. An illuminating piece of evidence was afforded when the transition was taking place in Italy. The husbandmen in the neighbourhood of Rome, copying French and English customs, abandoned ox-labour, but they had not learnt how to rear horses strong enough for heavy field-work, and much cruelty resulted from the change[1296].
Another reason for the preference given to cattle requires careful examination. Mr W. J. Corbett, relying apparently on Walter de Henley and Fitzherbert, states that the ox did not require shoeing[1297], and that thus expense was saved. It may be doubted whether this cause was ever generally active. The custom of shoeing oxen seems to be very ancient. There is no obvious reason for disbelieving that the iron object found by General Pitt-Rivers at Rushmore, in Cranborne Chase, was, as the discoverer supposed, a Romano-British ox-shoe ([Fig. 96] C). It was of crescentic shape, widened at one extremity, slightly concave on the upper side, and measured 3⅖ × 1⅛ inches[1298]. There is the possibility, of course, that it was part of a horseshoe, but that alternative is not so likely. The question of the existence of horseshoes in Roman times has been dealt with in the preceding chapter. It must be noted, on the one hand, that other objects of about the same age as the Rushmore example, found in association with Roman remains in ash-pits at Dorchester and Silchester, and in the Cam valley, have been considered
Fig. 96. A. Ox-shoe or “cue,” made at Ditchling, Sussex, c. A.D. 1898. B. Nail for fixing shoe. (Author’s collection.) C. Ox-shoe discovered by Pitt-Rivers at Rushmore, in Cranborne Chase. D. Ox-shoes in position.
horseshoes[1299]. (Cf. details given on p. 424 supra.) Against this may be set a few scraps of evidence which support the correctness of Pitt-Rivers’s determination—assuming that the two opinions clash—an assumption which must not be made unless one has the opportunity of comparing the various objects. First, we learn from ancient writers like Pliny that the ancients shod, or at least bandaged, the hoofs of injured camels with woven or plaited hemp[1300]. They were also often shod with strong ox-leather[1301]. (Cf. Information about horseshoes, p. 423 supra.) Roman mules, and therefore, presumably, horses and oxen, were shod with iron when they had to cross miry places, or when pomp and display required some ornamentation of the team. The shoes were, indeed, ill-fastened, and were often lost in the stiff clay[1302]. If, in view of facts like these, we feel disposed to allow that the Rushmore plate was really an ox-shoe, then there follows a strong presumption that the custom of shoeing bullocks was never altogether given up. That “vis inertia” of social habit, which so impressed Palgrave[1303], and the continuity which arose from that condition, are nowhere more noticeable than in the history of agriculture.
We turn to re-examine the Mediaeval authors already mentioned. On their writings, partly, one supposes, Thorold Rogers based his statement that “Oxen were shod, though the shoe is [was] far cheaper than that of the horse[1304].” Unless, however, Rogers is basing his assertion on writers other than De Henley and Fitzherbert, whom he frequently quotes, it is obvious that he has misread his authorities. De Henley, in explaining his preference for ox-teams, says that “if the horse must be shod” it will cost “each week more or less a penny in shoeing[1305].” We may fairly infer, then, that De Henley does not sanction the shoeing of bullocks, and is a little doubtful about horses. Fitzherbert’s objection, again, to horse-labour is that the animal must be “well shodde on all foure feete[1306].” This assertion, standing by itself, might be taken to imply that cattle were shod on two feet only—the fore ones. All dispute, however, is removed by Fitzherbert himself, a little later; speaking of oxen, he definitely tells us, “And they haue no shoes, as horses haue[1307].” Neither can I find any allusion to the shoeing of oxen in “Grosseteste’s Rules” (c. A.D. 1240), nor in the “Seneschaucie,” which was probably written about half a century later.
In spite of this negative evidence, one may be bold enough to suppose that such a careful writer as Thorold Rogers did not go seriously astray in this matter, and that he had somewhere met with references to the custom in Mediaeval works. There exists, in fact, some corroborative testimony, because it is asserted by one who speaks from personal investigation, that in a fifteenth century will, made in the city of York, a certain man is described as an “ox-shoer[1308].” This takes us back beyond Fitzherbert’s days. Two centuries later than the York evidence, in the years 1666 and 1667, there are clear records of payments for shoeing oxen in the Northern counties[1309]. Thus there is a fair case to be put for the prevalence of the custom locally for the last four or five centuries. Evidently not all oxen were shod. Without doubt, too, the practice differed according to the county or district. Recalling, then, the conservatism of agricultural methods, there is a possibility that the custom has never been altogether in abeyance since the Roman period. The evidence against the former shoeing of cattle might be advanced equally to show that horses were not shod, at least, universally. De Henley’s “if” indicates that the custom was not without its exceptions, just as some modern equestrians like Mr W. S. Blunt are exceptional in their opposition to the shoeing. Nor is Mr Blunt’s doctrine without ancient precedent and parallel among modern primitive folk. The Jews of Palestine, in the time of Isaiah, did not shoe their horses, believing that this breach of custom—if it were indeed a breach—would ensure hoofs “like flint[1310].” This was a great advantage in warfare, comparable, in the opinion of the prophet, to the strong man’s possession of sharp arrows and chariot wheels swift as the whirlwind. As to present practice, the Arabs, the Tartars, the Gauchos of the Pampas, allow their horses to go barefooted.