CAVELARICE, Or The English Horseman: Containing all the Art of Horse-manship, as much as is necessary for any man to understand, whether he be Horse-breeder, horse-ryder, horse-hunter, horse-runner, horse-ambler, horse-farrier, horse-keeper, Coachman, Smith, or Sadler. Together, with the discovery of the subtle trade or mystery of horse-coursers, & an explanation of the excellency of a horses understanding, or how to teach them to do tricks like Banks his Curtal: And that horses may be made to draw drie-foot like a Hound. Secrets before unpublished, & now carefully set down for the profit of this whole Nation: By Gervase Markham. TO THE MOST HIGH and most mighty Prince, Henry eldest Son of our Sovereign Lord the King, Prince of great Britain and Ireland, Duke of Cornwall, Lord of the Isles in Scotland, and Knight of the most noble order of the Garter. IT is not out of ambition (most excellent Prince) to get unto myself a more particular name, than the meanest Groom in your highness Stable, which hath moved me to offer unto your sacred hands, this poor volume of mine experience in this Art, which even from mine infancy I have pursued so far forth, as either mine ability or obscurity had power to extend itself. But because it hath pleased God through the glory of your countenance to give a new life to this Art, which not long ago was so much neglected, that I think (if it had been possible for virtue, to have received so great a stain) it would have drawn near to the danger of despising; so many unfurnished stables, like unpeopled towns, and so many worthy spirits (ignorant in the noblest action) being prophetic signs of following dissolution, but by your highness favours it is not repaired (for that were but to pecce up olderuines) but there is (as it were) a new and an eternal foundation laid, which will continue till all the corners of the world be consumed: which as it hath inflamed me to offer up this tribute of my zeal and knowledge, so I wish it would likewise kindle some sparks in others, who having attained the top and height of all best perfection, might leave unto the world some famous records of their worthy admirations; and not by their neglect, suffer a divine gift to perish with their natural bodies, knowing that if either Xenophon, Russius, or Grison had been so uncharitable, they should themselves with much more difficulty have attained to that in which now they have no equal; and being by them manifested unto the world, they shall not only bless and make happy posterity, but also so a certaine uncertain resolutions, that how ever the world shall boast either Spain, France or Italy, yet it shall then be known, that they have not brought forth so good Horsemen as have been bred, and are now living in this Empire of great Britain, to whom albe the world may imagine I have broken the way with too great boldness, yet mine humble soul knows, I have done it with such care and zeal, that they shall neither task me for absurdity, or misaplycation, to which I will not be able either by art or demonstration to give an account or satisfaction; holding it in myself a sin unpardonable to offer to your gracious presence that which shall not taste both of true art, and true duty: and how ever the first may be mistaken, yet the latter shall be so much unblemished, that (though a worm) yet my faith shall not be exceeded, but I will live and die your highness Beadsman and vassal. Gervase Markham. To the three great Columbes of this Empire: the Nobility, the Gentry, and Yeomanrie of great Britain. NO sooner shall this work of mine break forth into the world, but I know it will stir up many thoughts in many persons: some wondering what new matter I have to speak of, some fearing old repetitions, and some resting satisfied in their opinions with that small treatise which I formerly published; but to all these I know the work itself will give indifferent satisfaction, only touching that small treatise of horsemanship, which about fourteen years agone (when mine experience was but youngly fortified) I brought forth into the world: give me leave to deliver you these few reasons. First it was not gathered for any public view or benefit, but only at the entreaty of a dear kinsman (in those days much enamoured with delight in riding) was as essays or tastes collected for his private use; and that he might with less difficulty attain the perfection at which he aimed. Next, being intended for him, who was well grounded in the art before, I was less careful to observe those plain rules of demonstration, than otherways I would have been, my thoughts not then plotting the benefit of any such as were ignorant, and so I must confess I let pass the work with more obscurity & darkness then otherwise I should have done. Lastly a copy thereof being corruptly taken, and covetously offered to the printing without my knowledge. I thought it as good myself to publish it with his natural wants, as to let it come abroad by others with vilder deformities: and hence proceeded the appearance of my first Epitome in the world; which because it hath found favour both amongst my friends and strangers, and the better to satisfy them, who have done me honour in giving allowance to mine imperfect labours, I thought good to publish this larger volume, wherein I have not only at full laid open all the obscurities & concealments which have been hidden both in it, and in other writings, but also made such an even & direct path to lead the most ignorantest spirit, through the bowels & heart of this praiseworthy art, that not any man whatsoever (who will bestow the reading thereof) but shall in his greatest doubt touching any intricate proposition in Horsemanship, find both reason & satisfaction, whether he be general, as delighting in all things wherein the use of horse is employed, or particular as addicted to any peculiar branch or member: wherein as my labour & the expense of my best hours, hath only tended to a public good, so I desire my reward may not be either an especial misconstruction, or a particular envy; & that as the strength of my wish hath been to help those which know nothing in this art, so it may be an attractive persuasion to those which know much more than myself, to publish their skills, and so to make it a most complete art, till when let this book & my love be a true testimony of my zeal & service to my Country, whose flourishing estate and wealthy peace I pray may never end, till the last of all times be ended. G. M. A Table of all the Chapters contained in every several Book through this whole volume. The Table of the first Book. Chapters. 1 OF the breeding of Horses, and first touching the choice of grounds, their uses and separations. 2 Of horses and mares, and of their divers kinds. 3 Of the mixture of races, for which purpose each is best, and for the breeders commodity. 4 Of the choice of Stallions and Mares, the knowledge of their age by divers observations, and of the shapes. 5 How and at what time of the year horses and Mares should engender: signs of a Mare's desire, how many Mares for one Stallion, and how long he shall continue with them. 6 Of covering Mares in the house, the dieting of the Stallion, the time of the day for the act, and to know when she hath conceived. 7 That Mares may be made to conceive either horse-foales or Mare-foales at pleasure, and of what colour the breeder will. 8 If Mares should beforeed to take the Horse, and how to move lust in horse and Mare, and how to abate it. 9 Which Mares should be covered, which not, & which shall not go barren. 10 The use of Mares when they are with foal, and of the casting of foals. 11 Help for a mare that is in danger in foaling & other secrets. 12 How to make a Mare cast her foal. 13 The use of mares when they have foaled: of the suckking of foals and other helps. 14 The knowledge of a Horse's shape, and how it is to be known when he is new foaled. 15 How horse-foales and Mare-foales grow, and how to know the continuance of their goodness. 16 Of the weaning of Colts, of their ordering, and separating according to their ages. 17 Of the gelding of Colts and Horses, the cause, the age, the time of the year, and manner. 18 When, and at what age to take up Colts for the saddle, and of the first use and haltring. 19 Of the cutting of Colt's mouths or tongues, and of the drawing of teeth to help the bit to lie in his true place. 20 Of the separating of bad colts and mares from the good, and which shall maintain the race still. The Table of the second Book. Chapters. 1 OF the natures & dispositions of horses: how they are to be known by the colours of the horses, & other especial marks. 2 The use and benefit of the Chain, Cavezan, Head-strain, Musrole and Martingale. 3 How to make a colt gentle, how to bring him to the block, and of the first bridle and Saddle. 4 Of helps and corrections, and of the uses and several kinds thereof. 5 How to correct a horse that beareth his head or neck awry, and of all vices belonging to the head. 6 How to correct a horse that doth overreach or strike one foot upon another. 7 How to correct the evil motions in a horse, which are showed by the carriage of his head or ears, or other outward signs. 8 Corrections against restifenes, and the several kinds thereof. 9 How to correct a horse that runneth away, and the cause of such evil. 10 How to correct a horse that will rear upright, or come over with his rider. 11 How to correct a horse that will lie down in the water as he passeth thorough. 12 How to correct a horse that is skittish and fearful and findeth many boggards. 13 How to correct a horse that is dull of spirit, and slovenly in his trot. 14 Of the treading of the large rings, and their use. 15 Of stopping, retiring, advancing, and the uses. 16 Of yarking behind, and the use. 17 Of turning upon both hands, and the several kinds of turns. 18 Of managing, and the several kinds. 19 Of the passing of a Carrier. 20 When and how to bit horses, and to make the head constant. 21 Of bounding aloft, and the manner thereof. 22 Of the Curvet, Capriole, gallop galliard, and of going sidelong. 23 Of running at the ring, and the use of the Lance. 24 Of the teaching of young scholars, and the riding of a ridden horse to the best show. The Table of the third Book. Chapters. 1 OF hunting horses in general, and of their chases. 2 The choosing of the hunting horse, & of his shape. 3 At what age horses should hunt, of their first taking from grass, and of their housing. 4 Of the first fortnight's diet, exercising, and dressing. 5 Of the airing of hunting horses. 6 The second fortnight's diet, and first hunting. 7 Of hunting bread, both ordinary (as for training of horses) and extraordinary for matches. 8 Of all manner of purgations or scourings that are fit for hunting horses, and of their natures. 9 The third fortnight's diet, and of sweeting. 10 Why horses should have their sweats after the dogs, and of their clothing. 11 Of making a hunting match, the observations and advantages. 12 The dietting of a hunting horse for a match. 13 Of the riding of a match, and of the advantages in riding. 14 The Triers' office and the advantages he must observe. 51 The office of the Groom, and helps in rubbing of hunting horses. The Table of the fourth Book. Chapters. 1 OF ambling in general, and of the use & commodity. 2 Why foals amble from their dams, and how to make them amble if they do not. 3 How to teach a horse to amble by the help of a new ploughed field, and the faults therein. 4 Of making a horse amble from his gallop, or by over-ryding, 5 How to make horses amble by use of weight. 6 Of making a horse amble out of hand. 7 Of making horses to amble with the help of the hand only. 8 Of making horses to amble by the help of shoes only. 9 Of teaching horses to amble by the use of the tramel. The Table of the fifth Book. Chapters. 1 HOw a stable shall be made, the seat and commodities. 2 Of a traveling horses meat, and the several kinds and uses. 3 Of the several kinds of waters, which is best, and which is worst. 4 Of the dressing, combing, and currying of horses, and of their diet in the time of rest. 5 Of a horse's labour or exercise, and how he shall be ordered when he is journeyed: 6 Of sleeping, waking, fullness and emptiness. 7 Of the soil or scouring horses with grasie, and of other food:. 8 Of the passions which are in horses, & the love which keepers should bear unto them. 9 The office of the Coachman, and observations for his place. The Table for the sixth Book. Chapters. 1 OF running horses in general and their choice. 2 How running horses shall be first trained up and of their diet. 3 Of the making of a match, and the observations. 4 Of the several kinds of air, and foods belonging to a running horse. 5 Of: he several kinds of sweats, and of their uses, 6 Of the ordering and dieting a running horse for match or wager. 7 Observations to be used and inconveniences which happen during the dietting of running horses. 8 Certain helps and rules for the rider, and how he shall run his match to the best advanntage. 9 The office of the Saddler, & the shapes of his best commodities. 10 The office of the Smith touching the shoing of horses. The Table of the seventh Book. Chapters. 1 OF the composition of horses, and the quality of the things they are compounded of. 2 Of the Sinews Veins, and Bones of a horse. 3 Of a horse's urine, and of his excrements. 4 Of letting of horses blood, the time, the cause & signs. 5 Of sickness in general. 6 Of fevers and the divers kinds thereof. 7 Of the pestilence or gargill. 8 Of the inward diseases of the head, and first of the headache. 9 Of the frenzy or madness in horses. 10 Of the sleeping evil or lethargy. 11 Of a horse that is taken. 12 Of the staggers. 13 Of the falling-evill or falling-sickness. 14 Of the Apoplexy or Palsy. 15 Of the Witch or night mare. 16 Of cramps or convulsion of sinews. 17 Of the pose or cold in the head. 18 Of diseases in the eyes, & first of waterish eyes 19 Of bloodshotten eyes. 20 Of dimness of sight, pin, web, pearls, or spots. 21 Of the Haw. 22 Of the lunatic or moon eyes. 23 Of the canker, ulcer, or fistula in the eye. 24 Of diseases belonging to the ears, & first of lave ears or hanging ears. 25 Of the impostume in the ear. 26 Of the poll evil. 27 Of the Vives. 28 Of the cankerous ulcer in the nose: 29 Of bleeding at the nose: 30 Of diseases in the mouth, & first of the bloody rifts: 31 Of the bladders. 32 Of the lampas: 33 Of the canker in the mouth: 34 Of heat in the mouth: 35 Of the tongue being hurt with the bit: 36 Of the paps: 37 Of the pain in the teeth, and of the wolves: 38 Of the crick in the neck. 39 Of wens in the neck. 40 Of swelling in the neck after blood-letting. 41 Of staunching of blood, whether it come by blood letting or by any wound received. 42 Of the falling of the crest. 43 Of Mangines or scabs within the main. 44 Of shedding the hair from the main or tail. 45 Of the swelling of the withers, either by pinching, or galling with an ill saddle. 46 Of the impostumations in a horses withers. 47 Of hard horns, knobs, or sitfastes growing under the Saddle. 48 Of the navel Gall. 49 Of the swaying of the back. 50 Of the weakness in the back. 51 Of hide bound. 52 Of the strangle. 53 Of the cough. 54 Of the inward and wet cough. 55 Of the frettized, broken, & rotten lungs. 56 Of the putrefied or rotten lungs: 57 Of the shortness ofbreath or pursivenes. 58 Of a consumption, and the several kinds. 59 Of grief at the breast. 60 Of the Anticor. 61 Of tired horses. 62 Of diseases under the midriff. 63 Of the loathing of meat. 64 Of casting out drink. 65 Of surfaits. 66 Of the hungry evil. 67 Of the diseases os the liver. 68 Of the consumption of the liver. 69 Of diseases in the Gall. 70 Of diseases in the Spleen. 71 Of the yellows. 72 Of the Dropsy. 73 Of the diseases in the Guts. 74 Of costiveness or belly bound, 75 Of looseness. 76 Of the bloody sluxe. 77 Of the bots or worms, 78 Of pain in the kidneys. 79 Of pissing blood. 80 Of the colt evil. 81 Of the matering of the yard. 82 Of the shedding of seed. 83 Of the falling of the yard, 84 Of the swelling of the cod or stones. 85 Of incording or bursting. 86 Of the botch in the griones. 87 Of the itch or manginess in the tail. 88 Of pinching, splating, or wrinching the shoulder. 89 Of the swelling of the legs after labour. 90 Of foundering in the legs, 91 Of the splint or Serewe, 92 Of the Mallender or Sallender 93 Of an overreach: or attaint uponthe sinew of the shank, 94 Of an overreach upon the heel. 95 Of halting either before or behind. 96 Of being hipped. 97 Of being stisted. 98 Of the bone spavin. 99 Of the blood spavin. 100 Of the curb. 101 Of the pains. 102 Of kibd heels. 103 Of windgalles. 104 Os wrinching the neithe joint 105 Of the shekel gall. 106 Of the Scratches. 107 Of the Ring-bone, 108 Of the crown scab. 109 Of hurts upon the coronet of the hooves. 110 Of the quitterbone 111 Of gravelling, 112 Of sarbatting. 113 Of a prick in the sole of the foot. 114 Of retreat. 115 Of Cloying. 116 Of loosening the hoof. 117 Of casting the hoof. 118 Of hoof bound. 119 Of the running frush. 120 Of the leprosy. 121 Of the Fartion. 122 Of the Canker. 123 Of the Fistula. 124 Of an Anbury. 125 Of wounds. 126 Of bruising or swellings. 127 Of sinews cut or pricked. 128 Of wounds made with gun shot. 129 Of burning with lime. 130 Of the biting of a mad Dog. 131 Of being shrew run. 132 Of the warble or felter worm. 133 Of being stung with adder or Snakes. 134 Of eating Hens dung. 135 How to kill louse. 136 To keep horses from the stinging of flies. 137 The cure of broken bones. 138 Of the taking up of veanes. 139 Of Glisters. 140 Of purgations. 141 Of calteryzing, and the uses. 142 Ceraine special receipt for special purposes. The Table of the eight Book. Chapters. 1 OF Horse corsers in general. 2 The observations Horsecorsers use in the choice of horses, and the deceits they use in covering their faults. 3 Of the discovery and prevention of the Horse coursers deceits. 4 Of the excellency of Horses understandings. 5 How a horse may be taught to do any trick doone● by Banks his Horse. 6 Of drawing dry-foot, and the aptness of Horses thereunto. The end of the Table. CAVELARICE. The first Book: CHAP. 1. Of the breeding of Horses, and first touching the choice of grounds, their uses and separations. Having resolved inwardly in myself (even to the uttermost of my best powers) to give to every creature that shall read these my labours, a full and undoubted satisfaction touching any scruple, mystery, or other Inigma, that hath hitherto been concealed in this most famous Art, making a plain, even and direct way, where there hath formerly been much roughness, some hills, and many interchangeable turnings; I thought it most convenient to begin with the Art of breeding of Horses; which how ever it be not so generally appertaining unto all men, as the other members of the same Art in this volume following; yet for as much as bringing fourth, must go before the use of the thing brought fourth, and that this Art of breeding is only appertaining to Princes, Potentates, and men of best place and estimation, it must necessarily challenge the precedent place. Wherefore to you that are the owners of the earth, and desirous to enrich her and yourselves, with Beasts of the greatest use and virtue, I direct my discourse. Know then the first observation in breeding, is the knowledge of grounds, their natures, climates, fertileness or barrenness. The second, the distinguishment of Horses and Mares according to their breeds, or proportions: coupling each kind together, in such sort as may be most commodious for that purpose to which you intend. And the last the disposing and using them, being brought forth both in their foleage, best strength, and old age. For your grounds, I am of opinion with Zenophon and Grison, that you must principally, respect both the quantity and quality: the one for surcharging, the other for too gross feeding: the quantity, that your Mares and Colts may not be thronged up, and as it were kept in a pinfolde, wanting liberty to scope and run up and down at pleasure (than which there is nothing more commodious) and the quality which is the situation & fertileness of the soil: For the situation, it would be ascending with hills & dales, & those hills open upon the fresh air: if the plains be full of Moale-hills it is much better: For the fertileness, it would be a ground neither exceeding rank, nor extreme barreine, but of an indifferent mixture, rather inclining to barrenness; then much rankness, apportioning to the fruitfulness of the ground: the number of your Mares in such sort that they may neither want food nor surfeit with too great abundance, neither grow so exceeding fat that they be either disabled for bringing forth, or endangered with rotting) which only springs from such grossness (nor brought so weak with want of food that they neither take delight in generation, or for lack of strength die with hunger-bane: an indifferent mean must therefore be observed, which must be applied according to the nature of the ground; observing this order, either to increase or diminish the number of your race-mares, as you perceive them either grow fat or lean in the place of their abiding. Some are of opinion, that as much ground as will serve a Cow, will serve a Race-mare, and I am not much opposite to that opinion, only I hold it a proportion some what with the most; for I have found in mine own expe●ence, that the ground which would summer but eigh● Kine well, hath sommer●d a dozen Race mares very sufficiently; but for as much as every country, nay almost every Lordship differeth one from another, either in fruitfulness, or barrenness; there cannot be appo●ioned any certain number or stint to every ground, but it must be referred to the judgement of the owner, either to increase or decrease his stock, according as they either prosper or decay. Grounds that be rank, marish, cold & wet, are most wild to breed upon, for the food being unwholesome, the lair unnatural, and the treading incertain; the foals that are bred thereon, are heavy, slow, fat headed, great bellied, round leggd, and weak jointed, chiefly in the pastern: your ground therefore (as before I said) must lie high and firm, and such commonly are the Parks of Princes, and great Persons, whose employments in my conceit are most fit for this purpose, mixing with the delight of Dear, the delightful benefit of a brave race of Horses, in which even Kings of the best memories have taken unspeakable pleasures: whosoever therefore hath either Park or impaled ground (for a less fence will hardly serve a good race) which he purposeth to this use of breeding, must first know that he must not keep it as one entire ground, but with a sufficient rail of so convenient a height as may control a Horses leaping: divide it into three several pastures: the first containing the land or plainest part of the Park, where there is least shelter, water furrows, or dry ditches, which must be for your Mares to foal in; and after their foaling, for the stallion and the Mares to run together in: in which it shall be good if there be no other water more than some fair fresh Pond. Now the reasons for all these choices are these: first, that it should be plain and without shelter, because a Foal at the first foaling would have all the bitterness and sharpness that the latter end of the Winter can put upon it, which will so harden and knit him, that when the warmth of the Spring and Summer shall begin, he will prosper more in one week then another contray-used in a Month: and when the Winter shall come upon him again, he shall hold both his flesh and courage, when others shall hardly hold life in their bodies: this being a rule amongst all good breeders, that every Foal should have two Winters in the first year. Next, that there should be no water furrows nor dry ditches, is because a Mare out of her own disposition ever covetteth to foal in the water, or so near as she can get: by which means, I have known many foals drowned. And again, in that a Mare commonly foaleth standing, she less respecteth where she foaleth, whether in the water, by a ditch side, or other where. The next pasture you are to divide, would consist partly of good ground, partly of bushes, browse, and some high or thick trees for shelter; it would be ascending, and that ascent plain and open upon the air; Moale-hills, small gutters, & uncertain treading is very good in this ground: Also if some fresh river, or rundle issuing from a clear spring, run through this ground, it is much the better. And in this ground you shall summer your Mares and foals as soon as the Stallion is taken away: the reasons for the former choices are these; first, it must be good ground, because it may make your Mare's spring with milk: next for bushes and browse, it is that a Foal taketh great delight in, and makes them hard. The shelter of trees is to defend the heat of the Sun, & the stinging of Flies. To be mountainous & plain, is that a Foal may by the sharpness of the air every morning and evening, recover stomach, strength, and livelihood, or by scoping or galloping up and down the hill, come to a pureness of wind, and a nimbleness of body. For Moale-hils, small gutters, or other uncertain treading, they are to bring a Foal by his wanton galloping and playing about them, to a nimbleness and truth of footmanship, to a fine treading, and a surety of not stumbling. That the water should be either fresh river or spring, is because the purity thereof engendereth no evil nutriment or grossness, but rather sprightinesse and quickness. The third or last ground wherein I would have you winter your mares & foals, would be of reasonable fruitfulness, & free from all enundation or overflow of waters: it would be also upon the knoll of an hill, and if conveniently it may be, full of trees or bushes for shelter. On the top of the hill, I would have you build certain cross hovells of stone or other close stuff, over which you may stack your Hay, Oates, or other winter provision: the quantity whereof you must measure according to the number of your Mares & foals. The opensides of your hovells, I would wish to lie East & west, the close ends north & south, insomuch that in what quarter so ever the wind or wether standeth, they may have warmth & shelter from the same. Within these hovels I would have racks wherein to put the Hay or Oats in the straw, which will not only sau●much from loss & spoiling, but also increase the appetite of a Foal by labouring at the same. I would also have under the racks, maungers; in which you may cast the overchavings of Wheat, Barley, or otherwhite corn, but by no means any Pease pulse, for it engendereth many foul diseases; as the gargill, strangle, maw worm & such like: It shall be also good to cast in the manger that which Horsemen call garbage, which is wheat straw and the ears, chopped small together, with a fine cutting-knife, for it raiseth the crest, and makes it high, strong, firm and thin. Now for those great Princes, who are the owners of many Parks, many wastes, and many large contynents; they may (if it seem good in their eyes) make these three several grounds, three several Parks, multiplying their stocks as it hath pleased God to multiply their possessions; but for him that hath but one Park, or one piece of ground, fit for this purpose, the course I have formerly prescribed, I hold most Husbandly for his profit, and the goodness of the Beast he intends to breed. As for the Yeoman or Husbandman, who neither have choice of particular grounds, nor means to breed after any exact method, as having but only the benefit of the common fields; yet both for his profit & credit's sake desireth to breed a good Horse, To him I can but set down these few rules: First to foresee that his Mare be of good shape & metal: next that he put unto her so good a Horse as either his credit or ability can procure: Next, that after his Mare hath foaled, he keep her in the teather, shifting her four or five times in a day unto fresh grass which will be a sufficient means to preserve the Mare's milk, all be she labour and work much. Next, that she may be teathered so near as may be unto corn lands, that whilst the Mare feedeth, the Foal may at its pleasure crop & eat the green blades of Corn, which will scour & make the foal grow: & when the Corn is of better ripeness, than it may crop the ears of Corn also, especially wheat, which will bring unto the Foal such strength, full groat & liveliness, that he will savour of that seasoning all his life after, so that in the winter he be not brought unto too great a weakness; which to avoid, I would have the Husbandman ever to winter his Foal in the house, giving it good store of Chaff, light Corn, & such like: but in any case neither Pease nor Pease pulse, till March be passed at the soonest. And thus much touching the use of groundesand their divisions. CHAP. 2. Of Horses and Mares, and of their divers kinds. FOr me to enter into as frivolous and idle a discourse of the kinds of Horses and their colors, as Conradus Gesner hath, filling leaves with names scarce heard of, at least never experienced in any of our climates, some being more ugly than prodigies, and some more strange than even untruth itself can imagine, were to distaste the most worthy ears, and make myself a second Trumpet of other men's falsehoods: but forasmuch as mine ambition is to satisfy the world with truths, & not to amaze men with miracles, I will only deliver the kinds and generations of such Horses as I have approved and known within mine own experience. And first of all, for as much as I know almost all English men, whether out of the inconstancy of their natures (which is ever most delighted with new sangled novelties) or out of the bashfulness of their modesties, are ever apt to give precedency and priority of place to strangers, strange creatures, and strange fashions: yet for as much as I have formerly, and do daily find in mine experience, that the virtue, goodness, boldness, swiftness, and endurance of our true bred English Horses, is equal with any race of Horses whatsoever: I will first of all begin with him, and his description. Some former writers, whether out of want of experience, Of the English horse. or to flatter novelties, or else collecting their works from others writings, in which not finding the English horse named, they have thereupon concluded that the English horse is a great strong jade, deep ribbed, side-bellied, with strong legs, and good hooves, yet fitter for the cart them either the Saddle or any worthy employment. How false this is, all English Horsemen know, and myself dare boldly justify: for the true English Horse indeed, him I mean that is bred under a good clime, on firm ground, and in a pure and temperate air, is of tall stature, and large proportion: his head, though not so fine as either the Barbaries, or Turks, yet is it lean, long, and well fashioned: his crest is high, only subject to thickness if he be stoned; but if he be gelded, then is it thin, firm, & strong: his chine is strait and broad, and all his limbs large, lean, flat, and excellently jointed, in them exceeding any Horse of what Country soever. Now for their inward goodness; first for their valour and endurance in the wars, I have seen them suffer and execute as much and more than ever I noted in any other of foreign creation: I have heard it reported, that at the Massacre in Paris, Mongomerie taking an English Mare, first in the night swum over the river of Seine, and after ran her so many leagues, as I fear to nominate, lest misconstruction might tax me of too lavish report. And I have heard Master Romano say, the most enduring beast that ever he rid, was an English Mare. Again, for swiftness, what Nation hath brought forth that Horse which hath exceeded the English? for proof whereof we have this example: when the best Barbaries that ever were in my remembrance were in their prime, I saw them overrun by a black Hobby at Salisbury of master Carltons, and yet that Hobby was more over run by a horse of master Blackstones called Valentine, which Valentine neither in hunting nor running, was ever equalled, yet was a plain bred English Horse both by Sire and Dam: to deseend to our instant time, what eu● I men may report or imagine, yet I see no shape which can persuade me that Puppy is any other than an English Horse: and truly for running, I hold him peerless. Again, for infinite labour, and long endurance, which is easiest to be discerned in our English hunting matches, I have not seen any horse able to compare with the English horse, so that I conclude, the English horse is of tolerable shape, strong, valiant, swift and durable. Next to the English Horse, I place the Courser of Naples, which is a horse of a strong & comely fashion, The Courser of Naples. of great goodness, loving disposition, and of an infinite courageousness: his limbs, and general features are so strong and well knit together, that he hath ever been reputed the only beast for the wars, being naturally free from fear or cowardice: the best character to know him by, is his head, which being long, lean, and very slender, doth from the eyes to the nose bend like a Hawks beak: he hath a great and a full eye, a sharp ear, and a strait leg, which in an over-curious eye might appear a little too slender, which is all the fault, curiosity itself can find. They be naturally of a lofty pace, they be loving to their rider, easy to be taught, most strong in their exercise; and to conclude, so good in all points, that no foreign race hath ever borne a title of so much excellency. The Horses of the Isles of Sardinia, and Corsica, Of Sardinia and Corsica. are the nearest of all other horses to the Courser of Naples, only they be somewhat shorter bodied, and of somewhat a more fierce and fiery nature, but that by the temperance of a good Rider is easy to be qualified, and converted to an excellent virtue. Gesner amongst his other absurdities, saith they be exceeding little horses, whereas indeed they carry proportion with horses of the best stature. Next these, the Turkey horse is an excellent beast; Of the Turkey horse. I do not mean those horses which have been bred in the Turks first dominions, as in the upper parts of Scythia, Tartary, Parthia, Medea, Armenia, Capadocia, & other his Asian countries, albe if we will believe the report of old writers, each of these Countries have several good races, as Sithia and Tartary for greatness of body: Parthia, for limb and courage: Media, for beauty and comeliness of shape: Armenia, and Capadocia, for heaviness of head, and strength of body, with many other such like descriptions: but sith for mine own part. I have never found grosser untruths, (I speak for horsemanship only) then in the records of these old Writers; and forasmuch as mine experience (and as I think the eye of our Nation) hath had little dealing with Horses of these Countries, I will omit them, & refer the curious, who only delight in novelties, to read Absirtus, Vegetius, Gesner, and such like, who may happily please their ears, but never better their experience; and for mine own part I will write of the horse of Greece, which for as much as it is now under the Turks government, the Horses that come from thence are called of us Turks; of which I have seen divers, ridden some, and known them bred upon in many parts of England: but first to report what others write of the Horses of Greece: One saith they have good legs, great bodies, comely heads, Absirtus. hie of stature, and well made forward, but not backward, because they are pin buttockt: they be very swift, and of exceeding great courage. Now another saith, they be foul, ill shaped, rough over all their bodies, Gesner. great shoulders, ill dispositions, camel-backed, unsure paced and crooked legged. Now how these contrary descriptions can agree I understand not, only they say the better horse is of Thessaly, the other of Thracia; but for mine own part, touching those Turks which I have seen, all which have been said to come from Constantinople, which is a part of Thrace; they have been Horses of most delicate shape, pace, and metal: they have not been of any monstrous greatness, but inclining to a middle size, or indifferency of height; they are finely headed almost as the Barbary; they have most excellent forehandes, both for length, depth, and proportion; their limbs are strait, yet rather small then great; their hooves are long and narrow (a great sign of swiftness) their coats are smooth and short, and all their members of suitable quality; they are of great courage & swiftness, for I have seen them used at our English Bell-courses. Naturally they desire to amble; and which is most strange, their trot is full of pride and gracefulness. Next the Turk, I place the Barbary, which are horses The Barbary horse. bred, either in one of the two Mauritanias, or in Numidia, or the lesser Africa: they are beyond all horses whatsoever for delicacy of shape and proportion, insomuch that the most curious painter cannot with all his Art amend their natural lineaments. They are to be known before all horses by the fineness of their proportions, especially their heads and necks, which Nature hath so well shaped, and placed, that they commonly save Art his greatest labour: they are swift beyond other foreign horses, and to that use in England we only employ them; yet are their races only upon hard grounds, for in soft or deep grounds, they have neither strength, nor delight: they are exceeding well wound, which breeds in them a continuance of their swiftness: Their colours for the most part are grey, or fleabitten. I have seen black and bay, but not so generally; they seldom or never founder; they ask less care than others in keeping, being both of such temperate diet, and such ability of body, that they seldom surfeit, only they are (especially such as I have seen) of such little and slender stature, that they are unfit for the wars, or to support arms. Next these horses of Barbary, I place the jennet of Spain, which albe Gesner in his ignorant descriptions The jennet of Spain. reports to be a horse of great stature, buttocks short, weak, and uncomely; of body fat and big, slow, and cruel to his rider; yet those which better know by their experience than he by his readings, And for myself, both those I have seen here in England, and also those I have seen in Spain, and other places of the King of Spain's dominions, assure me of the untruth of such writings. For the jennet Indeed is a horse but of a middle stature; finely made, both head, body, and legs; his buttocks though they be long, yet are they well shaped and strong: but whereas some write they do exceed all horses in swiftness, or for that Old wines tale of breeding with the west wind, and overrunning all winds, I have in them as little belief, as there is in such tales little possibilltie: only this I think, that the jenes being a horse of great metal and courage, and therewithal of nimble, light, and active proportion, may pass a carrere, that is, run some twelve or twenty score, with great puissance & swiftness; but for running our English courses, which commonly are three or four miles, we have not seen any such virtue or goodness in them: their limbs, for the most part, are weak and slender; yet in the wars they are esteemed to be of wonderful prowess, and endurance; they are commonly full six years old or more, before they come to any perfection of shape, for they grow one year before, and another behind. And the last thing which is complete in them, is their crests, they are many of them naturally given to bond, & to perform salu●s; above ground; but by reason of their weak limbs, they continue not long without lameness; their trot is somewhat long and waveing: but if at any time they be put to amble, they it take naturally. Next this I place the Polander, or horse of Poland, The Polland horse. which is a beast but of a middle stature, well composed and knit together, their limbs and joints are exceeding strong in all proportions, like to our true bred English horses; their heads are somewhat fine and slender, very like in proportion to the Irish Hobby: their necks & crests are well raised upright, and exceeding strong; their ears are little and extraordinarily short: they have exceeding strong backs, broad chines, and the best hooves of any horse living, which is the reason that they are many times trained up, & made stirrers, as being horses which take an especial delight in bounding, yarking, and other strong saults above ground, which most commonly they do with such courageous violence & smartnes, that they have been seen many times to throw their shoes from their feet, with an almost incredible fury; they are also exceeding good in travel, and will endure journeying beyond many other horses; they are also exceeding good in the coach, & as some of our English Nobility have experience, equal or beyond most of the best Flemish races; only their general fault is their littleness of stature. Next the Pollander I place the high Almain horse who is generally of an exceeding great and high stature. The Almain horse. And albe he have neither neatness nor fineness in his shape, yet is there great strength in all his proportions; so that howsoever other men esteem him for the shorke or the manage, yet I account him best for draft, or burden; they are much used in the wars, but I think like their Countrymen, rather for a wall or defence, then either for assault or action; they are great, slow, and hard trotters. Next them is the Hungarian horse, who hath a great flat face, crooked nose, and thick head, great eyes, narrow The Hungarian horse. nostrils, and broad jaws; his main rough, thick, & almost extending to the ground, a bush tail, weak pasterns, and a lean body: generally, his deformities are so well coupled together, that they appear comely; he is of a temperate courage, and will abide much hardness, by reason whereof they are of much use in the wars. Next the Hungarian, I reckon the Fleming, who in most of his shapes differeth little from the Almain: The Flanders horse. His stature is tall, his head short and thick; his body long and deep, his buttock round and flat, his legs big and rough, and his pace a short & hard trow:: the principal virtue both of the Horses and Mares, is in the draft, in which they exceed all other horses, otherwise for the Saddle they are both uneasy & slothful; the Mares are tall, large and wondrous fruitful. Next these, I place the Friesland horse, whose shape is like the Flemings, but not full so tall; he is of a more The Friesland horse. fierce & hot courage then the Fleming, which makes him a little better for service, as being able to pass a short carreire, to manage, beat a curvet and such like: but for his inward disposition, it is devilish, cruel, and full of all stubborn frowardness; they are apt to all restive and malicious qualities, if the discretion of the rider prevent not their frenzy; their pace is a short and hard troth. Next them I place the Sweathland horse, who is a horse of little stature, lesser good shape, but least virtue; The Sweathland horse. they are for the most part pied, with white legs, and wall eyes: they want strength for the wars, and courage for journeying; so that I conclude, they are better to look upon then employ. Next and last, I place the Irish Hobby, which is a horse of a reasonable good shape, having a fine head, The Irish Hobby. a strong neck, and a well cast body; they have quick eyes, good limbs, and tolerable buttocks: of all horses they are the surest of foot, and nimblest in dangerous passages, they are of lively courage, & very tough in travel, only they are much subject to affrights and boggards. They will hardly in any service join with their enemies, the reason I imagine to be these: first, they are for the most part bred in wild races, and have neither community or fellowship with any man till they come to the Saddle, which many times is not till they come to seven, eight, nine, or ten years old, at what time the country rising, do forcibly drive the whole studd, both Horses, Mares, Colts, and Fyllies into some bog, where being laid fast, they halter such as they please to take, and let the rest go. This wild bringing up, and this rude manner of handling, doth in my conceit engender this fearfulness in the Beast, which those ruder people know not how to amend. This Horse though he troth very well, yet he naturally desireth to amble: and thus much I think sufficient, touching these several kinds of Horses, and their generations. CHAP. 3. Of the mixture of these former races, for which purpose each is best, and for the breeders commodity. Having in the former Chapter, declared the kinds, Generations, shapes and dispositions of all such Horses, as either our nation hath been acquainted withal, or myself hath tried in mine own experience, it shall be meet that now I mix these races together, showing which will agree best with our climate, for what purpose, and how they bring the best commodity. First, for the agreeing with our climate, it is not unknown to all Horsemen and men either of greatness or experience, that all those races, of which I have written, have been, and are daily bred in this kingdom, and that of so great vigour, worth and goodness, that even their own nations have not brought fourth any of better estimation, as by infinite instances I can approve were it not both tedious and needless. Wherefore for me to enter into a philosophical discourse touching the height of the Sun, the disposition of the air, or the alteration of heats and colds, drawing from their effects the causes or hindrances of conception, were to trouble my self to no purpose, and to tire others with idle ceremonies. But for as much, as divers men compose their breeds to divers purposes; some for the wars, service or pleasures of great Princes: some for swiftness in running, or toughness in hunting: some for easiness of pace, and the use of travel; some for the draft and the portage of great burdens. I will as plainly as I can, show how each race should become pounded. First, if you covet a race for the wars, or the service of Kings, the Neapolitan courser is of all Stallions the best, to whom I would have joined the fairest English Mares that can be gotten. The next to him is the Turk, who would be mixed with the Neapolitan Mare, whence springs a brave race▪ next him, the Horse of Sardinia or Corscica, who begets a brave race from the Turkey Mare: lastly the jennet of Spain, breeding upon the fairest Flaunders Mares. To conclude, any of these Horses upon fair English Mares, beget much braver Horses then of their own kinds, and fair English Horses upon any of these country Mares, do beget most serviceable beasts: but if you will breed only for swiftness, than the Barbary Horse is only best; breeding either upon a Mare of his own country, upon Turkey Mare or English: the Turkey Horse upon the English Mare likewise doth beget a swift beast: But if you would breed only a tough hunting Horse, there is none better, (as by daily experience we find) then the fair bred English Horse, and the English Mare, but if you would breed, easy ambling Horses for travel and the use of journeying, there is none better than the Turk, or Irish Hobby: so they be mixed with either English ambling Mares, or bastard Mares of their own country, that likewise amble perfectly. I have seen many ambling Horses bred from jenets of Spain, yet by reason of his slenderness of limbs, and length of pasterns, I esteemed him not altogether so good as the two former. Now lastly, if you would breed Horses for the draft, as either for Coach or Cart, or Horses for the portage of great burdens: as either for Sumpter or Pack man, the Flaunders, Friesland, or Almain Horse are your best stallions, the Flaunders or Friesland, for the Coach or Cart, and the Almain for the burden, and for either of these purposes the Mares are in all parts as serviceable as the Horses, according to our present experience in England at this instant. Now you are to understand, that as all these Horses in their several forenamed uses, are most best, so likewise their colts thus begotten (which of some Horsemen is called bastardy) are likewise excellent stallions. For mine own part, I would to choose breed sooner of a Bastard Courser, bastard jenet, Turk, or Barbary, then of the natural Horse of the own country; and my reason is, by their mixture with our Mares, all the imperfections of their own Countries are amended; as in the Courser, his length of head, and want of crest, which many times is imperfect. In the jenet, his weakness of joints: and in the Turk and Barbary, their slenderness of limbs: the Flaunders and Friesland which are so extreme rough and hairy about their pasterns, that the best keepers cannot preserve them from scratches, pains and Mallenders, are by mixture with our Mares brought to a clean race of sufficient tolerable limbs, so as they need not be kept, but will keep themselves from sor●ances: they also by mixing with our Mares, have their heads much amended; & their hooves infinitely much better hardened, which of all the parts of those country horses, is the worst, & of least endurance: all which me thinks when a perfect judgement shall take into his consideration, it shall appear great honour to our nation, and much shame to them who have wronged it with former misreporting: and thus much for the mixing of races. CHAP. 4. Of the choice of Stallions and Mares: the knowledge of their ages by divers observations, and of their shapes. FOr as much as every thing is made most perfect, sufficient, and of longest continuance, by the strength and surety of his first ground work or foundation, which indeed is the chief masterpiece of all that grows from that beginning: I therefore advise all those worthy ones, who will be the breeders of the best Horses, to have an especial care to the first choice & creation of their studd, sith if in the beginning, there be either insufficiency or blemish, it is most likely such stains will by continuance, grow to be more & more wild & ugly, & in this circumspection, there is nothing of more importance, than the well choosing of your stallions and Mares, sith they are the living bodies, from whence you are to derive both your delight and profit; he therefore, that will choose a perfect Stallion (saith one writer) must respect his beauty, goodness, and age. Another saith, shape, colour, merit, and beauty; which indeed is all one with the former, and I hold them principal observations, but I would likewise have added unto them, his descent and generation: for albe, a Clown may beget a beautiful Son, yet shall he never beget an heroical spirit, but it will ever have some touch of baseness: and an ill bred Horse may beget a Colt, which may have saire colour & shape, which we call beauty. Toughness, which we call goodness, & youth, which is few years, yet still his inward parts may retain a secret vildness of disposition, which may be insufferable in breeding. Now for his beauty, which only is contained in his colour & shape, all be I have in the next book writ sufficiently touching them too, yet I will here a little glance at them, by comparing with them the opinions of some other writers. First, for the opinion of Gesner, which merely is no good opinion at all in horse-manship, but a collection of idle tales: he says the best colours are bay, white, carnation, golden russet, mouse colour, fleabitten, pied black & pale, pied blue & grey; had he put in also orengtawny, willow colour, & such like, all the world could not have gone beyond him, neither should the Spaniards nor Italians have need to have died their horses manes & tails, if horses could have been bred of such colours. But to let pass such frivolous notes, the best colour for a stallion, is brown bay dapled, daple grey, bright bay, or white lyard: the roan, the pure black, with white star, white foot, or white rach, or the black bay, which hath neither mealy mouth, norred flank, is also sufferable. A stallion would be all of one colour, yet not according to the opinion of Gesner, his main & body of one colour, for that is most wild: for a bright bay horse would have a black main & tail, & black out parts, as the tips of his ears, legs, & such like: a dapple grey, would have white main & tail, & so forth of the rest: but I would not have a pied stallion, except it be for him, who esteeming more the strangeness of colours, than the goodness of horses: places his delight in motley generations: to such an one a pied Stallion is best: and of pides, the black and white, & bright bay & white are most choice: & not blue, carnation or golden pied. For his shape in general, I refer you to the next book, where I have not as I hope omitted, the least tittle in preportions; only for some particular things, which are to be most respected in a stallion, then in any other horse, I will give my opinion. First, for his head, it must be lean, slender & small about his mussel, at the setting on of his head to his neck you must have an especial regard that his neck swell not up about his chaules, or that the kernels which run betwixt his neck and his chaule be thick or big, for it is a great sign of sloth, and thickness of wind, which is a great fault in the Stallion, especially if his master expect to breed from him either running horse, hunting horse, or good traveler: neither must he have wall eyes, or white spects in his eyes: you must have care that your stallions yard be all of one colour, & not pied or spotted: for what stallion hath such a falr, begetteth weak foals, or for the most part of phlegmatic complexions, which are seldom good, either for use or hardness; his stones would be of a mean size, without warts or knobs, well trussed up, & close to his body, for if either they hung side, or one hang lower than another, it is a sign of surfer, sickness, or dullness of Spirit. If your stallion have under his chaps, long thin hairs like a beard, which also extend downward even to his breast, It is much better, and a great sign of swiftness. Also, you must take care that your Stallion be free from all natural diseases: as excressions, which are splints, Spavens, Serew, ringbones, Curbs, or such like; If they put forth, or appear before a Horse come to handling: or if he be subject to lunatic eyes, or to wenns on his body, or such like. And thus much for his shape. Now for his goodness, 'tis true, as some write, that it is of two sorts, either natural or artificial; his natural goodness consisting in his strength and ability of body, for the performance of the Art of generation, in his health, agility, swiftness, and good disposition. His artificial, in the manner of showing his natural virtues, which is always the best discerned under his rider: but in as much, as that artificial grace doth little avail in generation, it shall be the breeders principal office to take especial knowledge of his natural perfections, which if he shall find answerable to my former demonstrations, he may presume upon his fitness for that purpose: and yet I would not have you so seriously to regard his natural goodness, that you utterly neglect his artificial: but rather if you shall behold a Horse under the rider of infinite spirit and endurance, or of wonderful speed, pride, and stateliness, that albe there be some things in him you could wish amended, yet to bear with them, and breed upon him, for the benefit of his other virtues. Now forasmuch as some, whether out of curiosity to appear excellent in the knowledge of supernatural things, or to give a satisfaction to such as out of their too much search, would become Horse-midwives; have set down as an especial regard in the natural goodness of a stallion, to know the goodness or illness of the Horse's seed, which experience (for mine own part) I have ever shunned as a thing loathsome, ungentill, unnatural, and most unmanlye; yet, for as much as in this work, I covet to satisfy every several desire; I will set down what others think touching that point, and not what I have approved; leaving the trial to such as out of their flemye womanishnesse seek for such secrets. One Writer saith, that if you will know the goodness of your horse's seed, you shall when he covers a Mare, cause him to shed some of his seed into water, and if it sink it is good, if it float aloft it is nought: another saith, if you take the seed of the Horse into wool, or between your finger and your thumb, and if it rope and be slimy like bird-lime, than it is good: but if it be thin and loose like whey, than it is nought: with other such like midwifely precepts, which I wish every good breeder rather to hazard, then prove the experiment. Now for the age of your Stallion, though Pliny be of opinion, that a Horse may be put to a Mare at two years old, and continue getting foals till he be thirty three years old: yet for mine own part I like neither the beginning nor the ending, having in them both too much extremity; for the beginning is too early, and the continuance too long to prosper: the best age therefore in these days (how ever it hath been in former ages) for to put a Horse to a Mare, is when he is betwixt four and five years old, at what time he getteth the goodliest, greatest, & best spirited colts. In Spain I have heard the Spaniards say, they let their Colts run with their Mares, till they cover their Dams: & indeed I have seen very young Horses in some of their Island races; but I utterly dislike such breeding, for it is vild and unnatural: for as Pliny reports, a Horse being hoodwinked whilst he coured a Mare, after perceiving it was his own Dam, ran up to the rocks, and broke his own neck: and also that a Mare in the territory of Realte, killed her keeper for the like; which reports albe they carry not the fairest liuries of truth, yet are they precedents unto us that such manner of breeding is not by former horsemen allowed of: and this in mine own experience I have both found and know, that if a man will continue his breed altogether in one strain, without any alteration or strangeness, shall in the end find his studd to decay and lose both stature, strength and comeliness, which doth intimate to me, that there is a great dislike in such kind of breeding. Let your Horse therefore (as before I said) be of the age offoure or five years old, or betwixt that age, and fourteen or fifteen at the most; for after that time he is past the use of generation, except he be some principal rare horse, as some I have seen, that have gotten very sufficient foals at eighteen and twenty years old, clearly disproving the opinion of Gesner, which saith, that old Horses get lame foals, a thing both false and ridiculous, except he account the hollowness of the eyes, or sadness of countenance lameness, which are the greatest faults an old horse begetteth: For whereas some hold opinion, that an old Horse's Foal is more tender than the other, and more subject to sickness and infirmity, I have for mine own part found the contrary, not approving many Colts more sufficient for health, or of more ability in nature to endure sickness when it chanceth, than the Colt of an old Horse; yet that such an old Horse would have begot a much better Colt in his youth I make no question; by which I conclude, that the young Horse is for breed the most principal: but the good old horse in extremity or necessity, not to be forsaken; provided always that he be sound of his limbs and body, unless it be such disease as cometh merely by mischance or casualty. And now sith I have proceeded thus far in the age of Horses, it shall be requisite that I show you how you shall know the age of any Horse whatsoever: First by the pride, fullness, and cheerfulness of a Horse's countenance we adjudge his age: for first if his eyes be round, full and starting from his head; if the pits over his eyes be filled, smooth and even with his temples; and his countenance smooth and free from sadness, than we guess and know that such a Horse is young: and by the contrary aspects, we know he is old. Another way, is to take his skin betwixt your finger and your thumb, and pluck it from the flesh, then letting it go again; if it suddenly return to the place from whence it came, and be smooth and plain, without wrinkle, then is he young and full of vigour; but if being pulled up it stand, and not return to his former place, then is he old and wasted. Others approve a Horse's age in this sort, take him with your fingar and your thumb by the stern of the tail, close at the setting on of the buttock, and feeling there hard, if you feel betwixt your finger and thumb, of each side his tail, a joint stick out more than any other joint, by the bigness of an Hasell Nut, than you may presume he is under ten years old; but if his joints be all plain, and no such thing, to be felt, then be assured he is above ten years old. Others approve the age of Horses by their teeth, and that is of all ways the most certain: some will put their forefinger into the horse's mouth, and feel the inside of his upper tush: and if therein they find a little hole or nick, than they are sure he is under ten years old: but if it be plain and full, than he is above ten. Lastly, and the surest way to know a Horse's age, i● to look in a Horse's mouth, and if he have changed no more but his four foremost teeth, then is he but two years old: if he have two teeth above, and two below of each out side to change, than he is three years old: if he have one tooth above, and one below of each outside to change, than he is four years old: at five years old he changes his tusks, and at six years old all his teeth are perfit, only his under tusks have a little circle or ring of young flesh about them, different from his gum, and his outmost teeth of each side have little black holes in the top of them; which as soon as they be worn out, and are smooth, the horse is past eight years old: if when that mark is gone, and the teeth smooth, the horses teeth belong, yellow and foul, although he cut even and close, than he is above twelve: i● his upper teeth overreach his neither, and be worn uneven, & his tusks long, foul & thick, then is he above fifteen; but if his teeth be foul, uneven, and his tusks worn close to his chaule, than he is rather above then under twenty. Also, if a horse of dark colour grow grissel above his eye brows, or under his main, it is a sign of extreme old age: and thus much touching the Stallion. Now to speak some little of breeding Mares, which as well as the horse would have all the three properties of beauty, age, and goodness; by the consent of mine opinion, I would have a breeder to choose his Mare (after he is resolved touching her natural goodness and generation) by the largeness and goodly shape of her body, not respecting a gaunt, clean, and eye-pleasing proportion, in any sort comparable with a well fore-handed, side-ribbed, clean limned, and large wombd Mare. For if a Foal have an ample bed, he cannot choose but be of great stature: The best age for a Mare to take the horse in, is at three years old and upward, and the time of their decreasing at twelve: yet for mine own part, I did know the two and twentieth Foal of one Mare, which was an exceeding good and goodly horse: but that example I hold for no general rule. Now if you demand of me why a Mare should go sooner to the Horse then the Horse to the Mare, mine answer is, because she cometh a year sooner to her fullness and perfection: for a Horse is not complete, till after six, and a Mare is perfit at five. Pline and other Philosophers, are of opinion, that Mares may bear foals till they be forty years old, not being used for other purpose: but I whose Philosophy is mine own experience, have found it in general otherwise, and therefore would wish no Prince, nor man of greatness or estate, whose power and purse may uphold his breed in the best manner, to preserve his Mares longer in his studd, then from three years old till ten; unless it be some such principal Mare of whom you have such sufficient proof of extraordinary goodness, that you may adventure a more than usual continuance: for Mares being more apt to the Act of generation than Horses, are ever found sooner to decay and grow barren. That your Mares which you preserve for your studd should run wild and untamed, as I have seen them do in Spain, Ireland, and in some races here in England I utterly dislike: for albe great persons respect not their work or labours profit, yet such wildness endangers them as oft as they are driven or removed from ground to ground, either for casting their foals, swelting, or other violent evil proceeding from wildness: therefore it is most necessary that your Mares be made as domestical and tame as may be, both that great men may not lose the pleasure of their breed, nor the meaner sort the profit of their work and labour; which labour if it be moderate, is most wholesome for the Mare, and makes her more apt and ready for conception; and moreover makes her fit either to be covered in hand, or out of hand, at your will or pleasure. CHAP. 5. How and at what time of the year Horses and Mares should engender: signs of a Mare's desire: how many Mares for one Stallion, and how long he shall continue with them. THe next and immediate precepr after the choice of Stallions, and Mares, is to know the time of the year, and season when they should engender: the opinion of Pliny, Palladius, and some other writers is, that the Stallion and Mares should be put together, from the midst of March, till the midst of june; and truly the opinion is very good, & agreeable with our clime: but in the strictness of mine own opinion; & experience, I have ever found from the beginning of March till the end of April, the very best time of all, for May and june are somewhat with the hottest, & a little too late in the year; so that the foals falling in those times, neither having taste of frosts, nor sense of cold dews; in the latter end of the year, when they shall be compelled to endure them, and feel them to increase every day more and more, the bitterness will be so extreme, that for want of former custom, they will lose their flesh, grow weak, and misshaped: notwithstanding, if a Mare be not ready (as it will often happen) so early in the year: yet rather than she should go over, or you lose her profit, it shall not be amiss to let her be covered, either in May or june, so that the Mare going with Foal ordinarily eleven Months, and ten days, or there about, she may foal though not in the beginning of the spring (which I would ever wish) yet at such a tolerable time, as both for the temperature of air, and benefit of food may be allowed, though not much praised. divers horsemen here in England (but not any expert breeders) I have heard, hold strong argument against this opinion of mine for early covering of Mares, concluding that to cover Mares in May, is somewhat of the soon, reasoning thus; that forasmuch as Italy, Spain, and other Countries much hotter than ours, cover not their Mares before mid-March, or the beginning of April: ours that through the coldness keeps grass slow and long ere it spring, may right necessarily stay a month after them, but they are deceived in their judgements: For albe our clime be cold, and that grass be long in growing; yet this is a certain rule, that if a Mare have meat enough to sustain nature in any good fashion, she wilever have milk enough to bring up her Foal. Again, if a Foal fall early in the year, as the year increases, so both meat and milk increases: but if a Foal fall in the prime time of the year, then as the year decreases, so meat and milk decreases; so that the Foal tasteth in his first month his best food: and when he can eat least, hath the greatest plenty, which is contrary to rule. Lastly, our Winter's being almost double to the Winters in those hot Countries, if our foals have not a little taste or seasoning of Winter before our Winter begin, they will hardly (as before I said) endure our Winters. another Argument those Horsemen have, which is that our Mares will not covet the Horse before May, but that is more absurd than the other; for all men of experience know, that a Mare which is not with foal, will ever covet the Horse before mid-March, at what time if she be suffered to go over, she will not desire the Horse for a Month after. Again, if the Mare be with Foal, it is an infallible rule, that as soon as she hath foaled, she will ever covet the Horse nine nights after: so that it is rather a natural course, than the pride food, which makes a Mare covet or not covet the Horse. Signs of a Mare's pride. Now the signs to know when a Mare coveteth the Horse be these: They will run extraordinarily up and down, and seldom rest in any one place, and their coursing for the most part is ever towards the North or South; they will prick up their tails, woo one another, and leap one upon another, they will piss oft, and as some do report in their writings; if they may not have the Horse in the extremity of their desire, they will run mad. The time of the year being thus: from the beginning of March, till the end of April or May: and your Mares being ready for the Horse, the next rule is, the manner of their putting together: 'tis most true that, for Princes and great Persons, who have multitudes of Mares, and great choice of Horses, to whom the spoying of a horse, or the going over of a Mare, is no loss. The only best manner of covering, is to put your Stallion into a well fencst ground, full of fresh water, good shelter, and clear water, where he may run from March till the midst of May, and then to put unto him so many Mares as with good conveniency his strength is able to endure & serve: which must be preportioned according to his youth and strength. Plyny is of opinion, that a good Stallion may cover fifteen Mares, and our English horsemen have ordinarily preportioned twelve and ten, but for the best Horses that have been within my experience, I have found eight at full sufficient, unless a man would never expect more of the Horse, than that one two months Ieruice. For a Horse then if youth, strength, and lustiness eight Mares are a full number, but if he be old or feeble, then four is enough, fix to many. According to this proportion, having severed your Stallions & Mares into their proper places, You must appoint such as may be careful of the fences, lest either your stallions should break one into another, and so either mar the determination of your breed, or spoil themselves by fight; For Horses like Dear are jealous of their mares, as may appear by their keeping them together, & not suffering them to stray or feed a sunder, as in such cases you may easily observe, and which as some think, is the cause that they are more apt for generation, and do conceive more speedily: and truly for the first, second or third mare, I am of the same opinion: but that it holdeth so in the rest, I differ; for a Horse which is at such liberty, and is of a mighty spirit, doth so extremely; and with such disorder spend himself, that in less than one weeks space, he brings such feebleness upon him, that he is almost disabled for the purpose you employ him: and for mine own part, I have known divers excellent horses that have killed themselves with the violence of their lust. Yet as before I said, for such as have multitudes of mares, there is no other mean, but the sufferance of this hazard. As soon as you shall perceive that all your Mares be covered, which necessarily must be within the compass of six weeks, because every empty Mare at that time of the year, desireth the Horse once in a month, you shall forthwith take your horse from your mares: for it is not good to let him go any longer, for these reasons: first for the loss of his use & service, which may be after his recovery to some good purpose; but chiefly, lest if he run too long, he spoil what he hath formerly created: for a Mare, contrary to the kind of other beasts, is of so strong a lust, that albe she have conceived, yet if she be proud in flesh, fat, full, and lusty, she will notwithstanding desire and take the horse again, which if at any time she do, she immediately casteth the Foal where withal formerly she went, which experiment I have known divers times approved, yea even when a mare hath been within almost amonth of her reckoning: for which cause I would have you ever observe to remove your stallion, so soon as he hath done his office. And thus much for the races of Princes, and Potentates. Now for such private Gentlemen, as having but one stallion, yet divers mares, they may by no means run the hazard of this former course, lest by spoiling their horses, they lose both their hope & benefit together, wherefore it behoveth them to observe an other course: yet not in mine opinion, according to the demonstration of some of our late English writers, by turning mares single, and by one unto the Horse, whilst he runneth in some private ●enc'st ground, as some pond-yarde, or such like: for this taketh as sore of the Horse as the other course first mentioned, or rather sorer, by as much as the change and novelties of new Mares, brought almost at the end of every three days fresh unto him, stirreth & inflameth him with a more greedy & eager ●ust, then otherwise he would have if they were his continual object: therefore he that hath but one Stallion, & pope's to enjoy him long, (yet many Mares for him yearly to cover) let him observe the order prescribed in this next Chapter. CHAP. 6. Of covering Mares in the House, the dieting of the Stallion, the time of the day for the Act, and to know when she hath coneived. ALbe this course we are now about to treat of, be much more troublesome, and a little more chargeable than the former, yet it is by many degrees safer, and in my conceit much surer. He therefore, that out of little means will preserve a good breed: Let him first prepare to keep some warm spot of ground, as either Orchard, Garden, or such like: with not being eaten all the year before, may have grass ready to mow by mid April, at what time you shall put your horse into the soil, feeding him thoroughly with bread made of pease meal and mingled with barm and water, well knodden & baked in great household loaves: then when you have a Mare ready to be covered, let her as soon as the Sun is in setting, be brought into some large empty barn, and there turned loose: let then the Horse be also brought unto her, and turned loose, where let him remain with her all night, till half an hour after Sun rise: then let him be taken and led into the stable, and the first thing you give him, let it be a sweet warm mash of malt and water: after that, let him have grass and provender as before he was accustomed: then let the Mare likewise be turned to grass. This order you shall observe three nights together, and there is no doubt but your Mare shall be sufficiently served: In this manner, & with this diet, your horse may well serve one after another, ten or twelve mares; during all which time of soil & covering, your horse must by no means be ridden. Now for as much as some English writers prescribe in this time of soil, for your horse's diet, dried wheat or dried Pease and Wheat bran, or clean fitches, and his mashes of wheat, meal and water, I for mine own part, do dislike them all, and this is my ground: first, for dried wheat, albe it be a clean, hearty, and strong food, yet it is agraine, which of all other doth soon cloy a Horse, & is most dangerous, if a horse shall surfait thereon: beside, it is with us here in England, of so little use for Horses, that when you shall give it a Horse, his nature (unaccustomed thereunto) receives it rather as a medicine, then as any familiar food, and by that means takes little or no pleasure therein: Lastly, it is so costly, that no good Husband ●ut will grudge the expense, except he were assured of some extraordinary benefit thereby, which I assure ●im he shall never reap. Now for pease and bran, who knows not that ●ath any experience, that it is of all foods the most ●ilde, engendering gross humours, & bad nutriment, occasioning hart-burning, and many other scalding ●assions in a Horse. And for fitches they are (if possible) worse than the other for beside that they are rank, fulsome, and unwholesome food: they have also in ●em such a dangerous poison, that by surfeiting upon them, they breed even the plague amongst horses. For the mash of Wheat and Water, it is tolerable, and may be used, but not in this time of covering, because it carrieth neither the strength, pleasant taste, nor sweetness, which Malt and water doth. And thus much for the covering of Mares in the house. There is yet another manner of covering of Mares, and that is, for such as either having some one principal Horse, which they esteem so precious, that they will not adventure him lose a night together, lest they mare either in her wooing, or out of her toying knavishnes, should give him such a blow, as might either breed in him grief or lameness; yet are desirous to have some one or two especial Mares covered with him: or else it is for them who being desirous to get into good races, are fain to get leaps for their Mares, either by courtesy, bribes, or stealth: for these, they must be content to have their Mares covered in hand; which albe it be not altogether so sure as the former prescribed was, yet the foals so begotten, are altogether as good as the former: and whereas some have held opinion that the Horse being at hard meat (that is, at Hay and Provender) and the mare at grass, or the mare at hard meat, and the horse at grass, that if these two shall engender together, the mare will never conceive or hold, I have found it mere untruth, for I have known a horse the night before he should have run for a wager; who then was not only at hard meat, but also in strait diet, which is the extremest of hard meat, cover a grass mare, which mare hath held to that horse, & brought forth a foal, which both for his shape & virtue, might well challenge his Sire. He therefore that will have his mare covered in hand, must observe this order: as soon as you find your mare ready for the Horse, which you may know by the signs before mentioned, or if for a better assurance, you may if you please, bring some bad stoned jade unto her, and if you see her wry her tail, & show willinges to receive him, than it is most certain she is ready: than you shall half an hour after sunrise ●n the morning, bring your mare into some close court ●r back yard, near unto the Stable, or for want of ●ch into some empty barn: than you shall cause the ●orse keeper to bring forth the Horse, in a watering ●ench, with a strong long rain: and if at the first sight ●f the mare, the horse (as it is very likely he will) fall to ●ound or leap, let not the keeper be afraid. ●ut rather cherish and fortify the Horse in such salts, only let him so much as is in his power restrain ●im from coming too suddenly to the mare, that ●f it be possible he may be ready when he cometh to her, and as soon as he is upon her, let ●im have all the liberty the Horse-keeper can give ●im. But whereas some would have the Horse-keeper to help the Horse, as by putting his yard ●o the right place, or such like: I am utterly against 〈◊〉, (except it be in case of great need) for it is so ●uch against the nature of a Horse, so to be handed, that I have seen a Horse when he hath been ●adie to cover a mare, by such officiousness of the keeper, to come immediately off from the mare, & leave her unserved, for more than an hour after. As soon as ●e Horse hath served the mare, & is comed from her ●ack, let a slander by (prepared for the purpose) immediately throw a peal of cold water upon the privy parts of the Mare, which will keep her from shedding the seed (which naturally a mare will do) and so soon as the water is thrown, let him which holds the mare, run up and down with her the space of a quarter of an hour, making her trot a good pace, which chafing will also make her hold the seed, and whilst this is in doing, let the Horse be led into the stable: and have some bread given him, then within half an hour after, let him be brought forth again as before, and let him cover her the second time, and then no more for that time, & look, how you do in the morning, the same you must also do in the evening, continuing so to do for three mornings and three evenings together: and it will be sufficient. Now that you may know whether she hath conceived or no, you shall within ten days after her covering, offer her some bad stand jade again: which if she refuse to receive, it is an evident token that she holdeth; but if at that time month after her covering, you offer her the Horse again, and she refuse him, it is most infallible that she holdeth. Again, if when you cover your Mare in hand, and let her stand still, she do not then loose or cast out her seed, it is most certain that she holdeth. Also when a Mare hath conceived, her coat will scour, and she will look more smooth, sleight, and full then before she did. The only time of the month for covering of Mares, is three days after the change of the Moon, & three days before the full of the Moon. And thus much for the covering of Mares. CHAP. 7. That Mares may be made to conceive either Horse foals, or Mare foals at pleasure, and of what colour the breeder will. ALbe ever, even from mine infancy, my uttermost ends & ambition hath been only to be expert in this art of Horsemanship which I profess: & although I have not omitted any time, labour, ●r rest (according to the substance of mine estate) which ●ight any way enrich me with any secret belonging ●o the same; yet whether it hath been the strength of ●y misbelief, or the nature of my condition (which ●ath ever desired in these natural courses, a natural ●nd comely proceeding) I know not, yet well I am assured, that I could never relish or well digest these needless secrets, into which the fond curiosity of man ●oth to so small purpose wade; yet for my promise ●ke, and least by this omission some other man might ●ome & deny my CAVELARICE, I am content to ●port the uttermost of other men's opinions, joining ●o them mine own observations. One writer therefore saith, that if you will have your Horse get a Colt Foal, you must tie up his left stone with a lace or ribbon: but I fear if he have not the use of both those instruments, he will get neither Colt nor Fillye: The ●inding up of the right stone getteth the filly foals. Another saith, if you cover a Mare when the north wind blows, she will conceive a Colt Foal; if when the Southwind blows, a Filly. Others report, that if you constrain your Horse to stand a good space by the Mare wooing her, and priding himself before her, that the Mare out of the conceit of his comeliness, will at that time conceive a colt Foal, Others are of opinion, that if you anoint the Horse's yard and stones with the oil Petrolium, that it will occasion him to beget colt foals: but in all these experiments, I have little trust. Mine observations therefore for this begetting of Males, or Females, hath been ever these: first, let a Mare be covered three days after the change, or 3. days before the full of the Moon, & it is commonly a mean to make her bring forth a colt Foal: To cover a Mare the third night, or the ninth night after she hath foaled, is a good way to get colt foals: lastly and which is of all the surest, let your Horse when he goeth to your Mare, be in as great lust and strength as you can make him, and let your Mare be rather lean then fat, so that in the work of nature, the horse may be the stronger doer: and from these observations I have many times seen horse-colts to issue. Now that you may know when your mare is covered, whether shoe hath conceived a horse Colt, or mare Colt: one observeth, that if the horse when the act of generation is ended, do come off from her back on the right side, that then she hath conceived a colt Foal, if on the left side, than a mare foal. Others observe, that if when the horse cometh off from the mare, he seem to be much dejected and ashamed, that it is a strong argument he hath got a colt foal; but if he show any alacrity of spirit, or do neigh, it is a manifest token he hath got a mare foal: but both these ob●uations in my conceit are frivolous, nor do I think 〈◊〉 ought in truth seek such superstitious knowledge. Now that your Mare may conceive her Foal of ●hat colour you will, many Philosophers and some Horsemen are of this mind, that look what colour ●u shall put upon the horse when he covereth the Mare, or what other colour you will present to her eye ●hen she is in covering, that the Foal which she then ●nceiueth shall have the same colour: Others report, ●at of what colour you will stain or paint the hairs 〈◊〉 your Horse, when he goeth to cover your Mare, ●at she will conceive herfoale of that colour. Another ●iteth, that if you will paint the portraiture of a Horse ●on board or canvas, and hold it before the eyes 〈◊〉 the Mare whilst she is in covering, that look what ●lour or special marks the picture contains, that ●e same colour andmarkes the foal shall have which ●e Mare then conceiveth. How ever these opinions 〈◊〉 maintained by the Scriptures, or by Laban's sheep, ●r mine own part I hold neither trust nor truth in ●em: for were there a certainty in such practice, I ●ow so many fantastical wits in this Nation, that we ●uld not be without a world of Gesners' Horses, I ●eane horses of all manner of colours in the Rainbow: ●ay some mad men I know would have their Mi●esses names grow on their horses buttocks, But let●g these juggling tricks pass, the only sure way to have ●our foal of good colour, is to have both your Horse ●d Mare of a good colour, and that doth never fail 〈◊〉 nature. CHAP. 8. If Mares should be forest to take the Horse, and how to move lust in Horse and Mare, and how to abate it. THough in former ages, as in the days of Plintus secundus, & Varro, it hath b● an usual custom to force Mares to take the Horse, when they have had no lust, as by cross shackling them, tying them to a Post, and such like violent compulsions: yet I for my part do utterly dislike it, and hold it both barbarous & unnatural: for in all those natural actions there should be a natural accord & agreement, or otherwise the labour is lost: or if it avaié, it is the first means to bring forth prodigies: therefore if at any time you be offered the benefit of a principal Horse, and because of your Mare's unreadiness you are likely to lose that fair opportunity, unless you shall force her by compulsion: mine advice is, that rather than you shall lose the one, or make use of the other, that you try all the means that may be to stir and move lust in your mare, which one writer saith you may thus do: take Shrimps and beat them in a mortar with water, till they be as thick as honey, then mix therewith mares seed, and so anoint her privy parts, and her nose, and it will procure lust; or else take the powder of Horses stones, and mixing it with sweet wine, give it the mare to drink. Another writer saith, that the juice of a Sea Onion 〈…〉ng laid upon the Mares matrix, will stir up lust, 〈◊〉 else to anoint her matrix with hens dung and 〈…〉 urpentine mixed together. But above all these uncleanly 〈…〉 eits, the best & surest provocation, is to rub her privy 〈…〉 rts with keen nettles, for that will not only violent 〈…〉 stir up her lust, but also make her conceive and 〈…〉 l when she is covered, as I have seen by due proof 〈…〉 sundry times: yet before you make trial, either of this 〈◊〉 of any of the former, I would have you first put to 〈…〉 ur Mare some bad stoned jade, who being so shack 〈…〉 that he cannot cover her, may run with her a 〈…〉 y or two, in which time, if by his chase & wooing 〈…〉 r he stir her to lust, (as it is most likely he will) than 〈◊〉 that only suffice; otherwise you may follow your 〈…〉 own opinion: but if it be so that your Mare be ready 〈…〉 r the Horse, & only the Horse out of a cold or sullen disposition refuseth to cover your Mare, as I have seen any fair Coursers of that nature: them you must employ your Art by stirring lust in your Horse, which 〈…〉 me writer's report you may do, by giving him to 〈…〉 ink the tail or pizsel of an old Stag burnt to pow 〈…〉 r: & mixed with sweet wine, and also anointing his 〈…〉nes therewith, or else to mingle with that powder 〈…〉 e powder of Annyseedes Saterion, Basil, and Date 〈…〉 ones, and give them in sweet wine to drink; but rather than you shall approve any of these medicines, I 〈…〉 old wish you to stay the long leisure of the Horse, 〈…〉 and by often offering to take the Mare from him, seek 〈…〉 o move and inflame him; if you do with nettles rub 〈…〉 is yard a little it will provoke him, and is a thing ordinarily used. But now of the contrary part, if either your Horse or Mare be so proud and strong in lust, that nothing you can do will abate their heat, you shall then anoint his stones and yard, and the Mares udder and privy parts with Salad Oil, wherein hath been steeped before Mallows, Sorrell, and Lertice: but if that prevail not, you shall twice a day swim your Horse or Mare in some deep River. As for that idle opinion of them that think the cutting off of a Horse or Mares main, or tail, will abate their courage, it is most gross; for Horses & Mares have not like Samson their strengths in their hairs: and thus much touching these natural secrets, which if to modest ears they bring any evil sound, they are the rules of the best respected Writers, and not by me published but repeated. CHAP. 9 Which Mares should be covered, which not, and which shall not go barren. PAlladius, Columella, and myself am much different in opinion; for they would have such Mares as are beautiful, and fair, and there with all have been well covered, and have fair Colt foals, not to be covered every year, but once in two years, nay, once in three years: their reason being, that their foals may thereby have the longer time to suck, and for such Mares as are soul, and have foul foals, to be covered every year, as if they would give rules to breed bad things often, and good things seldom. Now for mine opinion; first, where they make a distinction betwixt fair Mares, and foul Mares, I would have every breeder, so near as he can, not to preserve one foul or uncomely Mare in his race, or if he have any such, to breed so seldom upon them as may be; so that composing his studd all of fair Mares, he should by Palladius rule, breed but once in three years, a husbandry in my conceit very unprofitable. But to come to our purpose: I would have every one that breeds Horses, not to let any Mare he hath to go over, except it be that some of his Mares miscarry, and cast their foals; which if any do, than I would have such Mares to go over for a year at least, because if they be covered the next year after, they are in danger to cast their foals again, although they have no mischance: as for Palladius reason, that they should go over for the bringing up of their foals, he is much mistaken: for a Foal doth not suck any great quantity of milk above nine Months, the other three Months he sucketh but by snatches, and for wantonness; so that the Mares being with Foal, doth not any thing at all hinder the foals nourishment. Besides, the foals sucking upon the Mare, keeps the Mare in a good estate of body, rather lean then fat; so that when she shall come to be covered she will sooner hold, sooner bring forth a Colt foal, and have more room, and a larger bed for her foal to tumble in: Whereas should she be suffered to go over a year or two, in that time of her barrenness, she would grow so fat, that she would hardly hold; or if she did hold, her womb would be so closed up with fatness, that when she should come to foal, she would bring forth nought but a wreckling; mine opinion therefore is, that no Mare should go over, that is worthy the covering, except (as before is said) mischance constrain: now to be sure that none of your Mares shall go barren, try every Mare you have the Month day after her covering, except such as be fat and proud, but by no means try them; & if the other covet the Horse again, let than have him, and so you shall be sure that not any of them shall go barren: but for turning a Stallion amongst your Mares about Lammas, (as some advise) O it is most wild: first through the mischief he may do to those which have already conceived, and next the lateness of the year, at what time I had rather the Mare should go over, then bring a Foal at so bad a season: and albe I have seen myself, & heard also of many good Lammas foals, yet I never saw any such, as thereon to ground a precedent. And thus much for Mares and their barrenness. CHAP. 10. The use of Mares when they are with Foal, and of the casting of foals. AS soon as your Mares have conceived and are with Foal, those great persons which keep their studs only for breed, and no other labour, are to respect that they may go in good short, yet sweet pasture, especially if they give suck, and that for a month before and after Michaelmas they be not chased, strained, or troubled, for than is the time of their knitting and quickening, so that a small rush at that time breeds aborsment (which is the casting of their foals.) But for such men as must by labour make some especial use of their mares, they must have care, that after their Mares have conceived, they labour and work them very moderately, shunning by all means to put them to the carriage of heavy burdens, or the toil of hasty journeys: but above all, as before I said, a month before and after Michaelmas; Mares that are with Foal, and have foals sucking upon them, must have in the Winter besides grass, good store of sweet hay, and light Corn: they must have good shelter, as house or hovel, & dry lair. The houses or hovels, where they eat their winter meat, must be large and spacious, so that they may not be thronged up together, for fear by rushing or striking, they be forced to cast their foals. Some have been of opinion, that the change of strange pastures, and strange waters, will make a Mare cast her foal, but it is not so, only a man may by driving Mares from pasture to pasture, with unruly chassing make them cast their foals, with is the cause I would have mares with foal seldom removed or driven: but that fresh pasture should do them such hurt, it is senseless. As for the mast of Cedar trees, the treading upon Wolves or suchlike, all which some writers say, will cause aborsement, we here in England need not fear them. But for stinking smells, as the shuffs of candles, carrion, or such like, I hold it very dangerous, and do often occasion aborssement: fatness in a Mare is dangerous for aborssement also; or if they scape casting their foals, yet fatness puts a Mare to great hazard in her foaling, which is the reason that many good breeders which I know, willet their Mares after they are quickened, be moderately traveled or wrought, till within some month or six weeks of their foaling, but not any longer: for the only time of danger is at the first conception, and at the time of teeming. And thus much for this matter. CHAP. 11. Help for a Mare that is in danger in foaling, and other secrets. MAres naturally (contrary to the custom of other beasts) do foal standing: and as certain ancient Writers report (for I have not at any time seen it) the foals when they are new foaled, have upon their foreheads a little black thing like a fig called Hypomanes, which they say will procure love, the dam bites it off, and eats it as soon as the foal is fallen, but if she be prevented thereof, she will never suffer the foal to suck; as if the tenderness or natural love which a Mare bears to her young, sprung from this accidental cause, and not from the motion of her natural inclination: but for mine own part, having seen so many Mare's foal as I have done, and never perceiving any such observation, I cannot imagine it any other than a fabulous dream. But to proceed to our purpose: if your mare either by mischance, or by natural defect, as by taking the Horse when she was too young, as under two years old, or upon her first foal, which ever hath the greatest peril, be in danger at her foaling, or put to extraordinary torment in foaling; you shall ease her by these means: first one is of opinion, that if you make one stand before the mare when she is in foaling, that shall hold her nost●ls close, in such sort that she cannot take her breath, it will procure her to foal with much ease: but for the 〈◊〉 I doubt, only I know it will procure he● more speed in her business: but the most 〈◊〉 and surest remedy for this evil is, to take the 〈◊〉 part of the Crab-fish fear, and beating 〈◊〉 to powder, mix it with sweet Wine, and Sall● Oil, and give it the mare with a horn to drink, and i● will bring her ease presently, of which I have known good experience: but if it shall fail, than I would have you take the help of some discrete woman, whose better experience knows best how to handle such an occasion. Now if after your mare have foaled, she do not scowe away her Secundine, which is the skin wherein the foal is wrapped, after that natural manner which is requisite in such a case: some think it best to give her this medicine: first to boil two or three handfuls of fenel in water; then to take half a pint of that water & as much old sweet wine, & a fourth part of salad oil, & mingle them together upon the fire, then when it is lukewarm, to power it into the mare's nostrils, and to hold her nostrils close after it, which will be a present means that she shall expel the former substance: but for as much as this medicine is somewhat tedious in making, and that a Mare should not be so long in scouring, as this: in compounding, boiling, and cooling. I have ever observed, that as soon as my mare hath foald, to give her a little bottle of green forage, that is, the blades of young Wheat or Rye, but of the two Rye is the better, and it will both expel and cleanse a Mare presently: touching the eating of the Secundine, which most commonly mares do, some think it is very unwholesome, and that it maketh a Mare sick and unlusty, which opinion I hold for great truth, adding this with all; that it is a great hindrance to the Mare's milk: wherefore so far forth as is in a man's power, I would have it prevented. And thus much for this matter. CHAP. 12. How to make a Mare cast her Foal. SOme say, it hath been a practice amongst ancient Horsemen, in times past, that when they have had a Mare unworthily covered, as when a fair Mare hath either by stealth, or mischance, taken some ill favoured stoned jade, or when a mare of some especial hope or virtue, as eyt her for riding, running or hunting, is preserved from the horse, and yet not withstanding through some negligence, gets to the Horse, and is covered: In this case, it hath been a practice to force the mare so covered, to aborsment, which is to cast her Foal, and it is a thing myself have practised upon a mare, in whose speed I was infinitely much persuaded, the rather because I know this general rule never to fail, that a mare which once giveth a Foal suck shall never boast of that speed which in her maydenhood, she enjoyed, both because all her powers, organs, and instruments of strength have then a contrary employment; and also, because nature in foale-bearing looseth the pride and lustre of her greatness. Again, if you preserve your Mare for beauty, and eye-pleasure, the bearing of foals utterly taketh away that delight, because the womb being stretched out, the udder broken, and the full parts fallen, there is little more than the head & limbs which a man can call beautiful; he therefore than which hath either swift, mare, or beautiful mare, which is unworthily covered, if he would disburden her of that evil burden, there is no course but to make her cast her Foal: which although some writers hold, may be done two ways, that is, either by strength of hand or use of medicine, yet for mine own part, for that handy course, I utterly dislike it, both for as much as I know it can never be done but to the great hazard of the mare's life, & also because I have seen some mares die in the deed doing, for that which is to be done by hand, is not to be done, till the Foal be so great, that it have hair, at what time they cause one to thrust his hand into the womb of the mare, and to crush the head of the foal, how monrous, immodest & unnatural this is, who cannot judge? but for the medieinable course, it is less dangerous, & by all degrees more tolerable; Yet for as much as I have ever used such experyments, but in extremity and that the medicines are all in other men's records; I will for modesty sake, refer them to their writings; and at his instant save myself a labour in repetition, advising all Horse breeders and Horsemen whatsoever, rather to endure the inconvenience of mischances, than the mischiele of these subtle knowledges. CHAP. 13. The use of Mares when they have foaled▪ of the sucking of foals, and of other helps and uses. IT is to be intended, that according to the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are prescribed in the first chapter of this book, all your 〈◊〉 hold be in that ground which being plam● and most void of water furrows, ditches, and such like, is the safest from danger in foaling: but when your mares have all foaled, if then you have any fresh and v●bitten ground, which not being rack, deep, nor soft, but sweet grass, short bit, and hard to tread on, with good shelter and fresh water: it shall be good to put your race mares and their foals therein, to the end that their milk may spring & that your foals may come to a fullness of strength, beauty, and courage: in which albe some Authors give advice ●o chase and rechase your mares up and down the ground at certain times, as the best means to bring the mare's milk into her udder, yet I am of a contrary opinion, knowing this by due proof, that such exercise doth rather hurt then good, because whatsoever is done unwillingly is done with pain, & that painfulness takes away the sense of profit: as for bringing down the milk, that the foal itself ever doth, whom as he sucks, you shall ever see with his nose and head to jump and strike against the udder of the mare, which is to no other purpose but to break the kernels of the mares udder, and to have the milk have its passage, so that to conclude, I would have your mares run with all the quietness that may be, knowing this principle, that all horses and mares, which are either in lust or strength, will out of their own natures, either against rain, wind, or storms, run, chase, and scope about the ground where they pasture; so that where nature is so good a help, constraint need to be of little use. Now for the sucking of foals, although one man writes, that all Authors do agree, that foals should suck two years at least: nay, that after the Spanish manner, they should suck till they cover their dams, I for my part & as I think all good English breeders are of a contrary opinion; for how ever in the days of Pliny, Aristotle, or Anatolius, two years might be thought little enough; yet in these our days we find it full one year too much; wherefore leaving the variable opinions of sundry men, I conclude, that in the races of Princes, Noblemen and Gentlemen, for a foal to suck a year complete, that is from his own foaling, till his dam foal again, is a time full out sufficient; but for the husbandman, who may not lose the work and labour of his mare, it shall be sufficient for him if his foal suck but full six Months complete; and how ever some men have written that foals sucking so small a time, must necessarily want much of their inward pith, strength and healthfulness, yet by proof I know it doth not generally hold so, and for mine own part, I could almost give consent to the waning of all foals at six and seven months, were it not for the great danger of the Gargill, and maw-worm, which unto foals waned so young, are diseases both incident & common: so that in conclusion, I would have those which are of ability, to let their foals suck a year, & no more. For those which want means, to make their hazard at six months and upward. For the housing of foals at their first foaling, which is the opinion of Varro, and some others. I am utterly against it, because as I have formerly written, the perfect Horse must ever in one year have the taste of two winters, and therefore in God's name let your Foal taste the worst of winter's farewell. Now for the excercising of your foals to eat provender after they be five or six months old (which is likewise the opinion of Varro) it is exceeding good, and nothing more necessary, but that the provender should be either ground Barley, or dried Barley and wheat bran mingled together: That might in those countries, wherein he was experyenst be tolerable, because peradventure there was no other choice: but with us here in England, where we have so many choices of good foods, that food is of all other the vildest, and worst, both because it affordeth the worst nutriment, and also both Barley and wheat bran, are of a hot burning nature, engendering hot fevers and other dry diseases. The provender best for foals then, is old Oats in the sheaf, the over chaveing of wheat, garbage (which is wheat ears and the straw chopped altogether) and now and then barley in the chaff, or if your foals grow dry in their bodies, and costive, then now & then a sheaf of Rye amongst them. This manner of feeding will not only make them acquainted with the several taste & use of meats but also breed such familiarity betwixt them and their keepers, that they will be much more domestical and tame then otherwise they would be, which is a great benefit, both to the breeder, and also to him which shall be the rider; but in any wise let not their keepers handle or struck them too much, for that will but hinder their growth, because for the most part, all four-footed beasts do take dislike in their infancy to be much handled. The houses or cross hovels which you preserve for winter shelter for your foals, would be fair paved with pebble, boulder, or some other kind of small stone, and therewithal daily kept clean from mire or dung: from mire, that by soft treading the hooves of your foals grow not weak and tender: and from dung, least standing thereupon it burn and dry up their hooves, making them short and brittle. But if naturally you perceive any of your foals to have tender hooves, than you shall seek by medicinable means to recover them, as by anointing them with the upper sword or skin of fat bacon, or else by taking the ears of Garlic, Swine's grease, Goat's grease, and Brimstone mixed together, and anointing their hooves therewith, or by rubbing the cronets of their hooves with Tar and Hogs grease mixed together, and such like, of which I will speak more in my ●ooke of diseases. CHAP. 14. The knowledge of a horses shape stature and quality: and how it is to be known when he is new foaled. THis knowledge and experience I have oftentimes noted, and therefore dare the more boldly protest it which is that a man may have almost a certain knowledge when a Foal is new foaled, what shape, stature, and quality he will carry when he is a Horse of complete strength and growth: Wherefore, first as touching his shape; look what shape, proportion and beauty he hath when he is a full month old, the same shape and beauty he will carry when he is full six years of age: and the same defects which he then retaineth, the same he will hold when he comes to his growth, and all his life after. Then for his stature, this is an infallible rule, that for the shin bone (which is betwixt the knee and the pastern of the fore legs) that bone never increaseth, no not from the first foaling, neither the bone from the cambrel to the pastern of the hinder leg; insomuch that if those bones be long and large, we are ever assured that the Foal will prove a tall and a large Horse. But for a general knowledge of the height of a Horse by his foalage, take an Incle or Ribbon, and measure the Foal when he is new foaled, from the knee to the Withers (which is the top of his shoulder) and double that length he shall be of height when he comes to be a Horse of complete age. Now for his disposition and quality, I am of Varros opinion, that if a Foal be of a stirring and lively spirit, valiant against all strange sights, and sudden noises; wanton leading the way in his sport, and to be the foremost in every chase, that will voluntarily leap hedges and ditches, boldly pass bridges, strait lanes or places of covert, or to swim waters, and therewithal to show a most tractable patience, when they are by ordinary means restrained, This foal or colt I say, and this I have ever approved and observed, will prove a horse of all good virtue, tractability, and endurance; whereas Colts of contrary dispositions, prove horses of dull, cowardly, and most unserviceable quality. And thus much for these hopeful and prophetic imaginations. CHAP. 15. How Horse foals, and Mare foals grow, and to know the continuance of their goodness. TOuching the groat of horses & mares even from their first beginning to their complete age, diverse men are of diverse opinions: for one supposeth that Horse-foales are sooner fashioned in their Dams bellies then Mare foals: and indeed there is some natural reason for such conceit: but in as much as no man can make any just proof or experiment thereof, I will refer it to the reader's discretion to believe it as he list. Another is of opinion (and to that opinion I must needs condescend, for I find it in daily experience) that after foals are foaled, the mare foal cometh to her full growth of height and length at five years of age: but the horse-foale not before he be full six; and from that time, although some imagine they spread & grow in breadth and largeness till they be ten years of age; yet I for mine own part have diligently observed, and found by experience, that no horse doth spread, or grow brother, or larger after he is eight years of age, at which time only he is complete, and full in every member. There is another which writes, that horses with bald or white faces do not grow old so soon as other horses: how he meaneth that saying I scarce understand, for most sure it is, that nature as soon decayeth in them as in others: but if his meaning be that they do not appear old so soon as other horses, than I am of his opinion, because those grisseld hairs which in horses of dark colours are the only marks of old age, do never appear in a horse that hath a white face: as for the length of life in such horses, I think it is shorter than in the others, for bald faces, white legs above the knees or cambrels, and such like superfluities of whiteness, are the evident tokens of the imperfections of nature, and where nature is imperfect, there life is of least continuance. Now for as much as all horses do not▪ attain to their full growth in one manner and fashion, I will show you how they grow, according to their several breeds: and first for our English horses, they commonly do hold their shapes till they be two years old; but at three, they lose all beauty and proportion, appearing to the eye weak, loose, and ill-favouredly cast, no member answering other, either in shape or fitness: then at four years old they recover again the shape and good fashion of their bodies, only they want neck and crest, which begins not to rise or extend its comeliness till he be five years old, and becometh perfit and complete at six years old. The English horse groweth altogether even and just, and not as other horses do, one while before, and another while behind; for whensoever you shall perceive him to grow uneven, that is higher behind then before, or higher before then behind, be you well assured, he will ever continue so all his life after: so that when you shall see any English Colt of any such uneven making, neither choose him, nor preserve him, otherwise than for present sale or profit. According to the growth of your English horses: so for the most part grow your Almains, Flemings, and Frisonds. Now for the Neapolitan Courser, he looseth his shape as soon as he is a year old, and recovereth it not again, till he be full five years old: during all which ●ime he is of loose shape, raw-bond, weak-jointed, and chin necked: at two years old he is higher behind ●hen before: at three, higher before then behind: ●t four, higher behind then before: and at five, of even height, all his joints being come to their true evenness; and at six years old, his neck, crest, breast, and buttocks, come to their full beauty, and comeliness. Now it is to be noted, that if any true bred Courser do either at two years old, or three years old, show the beauty of a good shape, appearing to the eye to be firmly knit, round and close trust together, with all those shapes which should be discerned in his full age: such a Colt ever doth lose his shape at four and five years old, and never recovereth it again during his whole life after. So that I conclude, the worse shape a Courser carry that two, three, and four years of age, the better he will bear it at five, and six, and all his life after. According to the growth of the Neapolitan; so for the most part grows both the jenet of Spain, the Turks, and Barbaryes. As touching the continuance of a Horse's goodness, it often appeareth by the Horse's hooves. For if they be tender and soft, as for the most part your Flemings, Almains, and Frisons are, then are they but of short continuance, as wanting much of their vigour and strength. But if they have hooves which are strong, hard, and sounding, as for the most part our English horses, Neapolitans, jenets, Turks, and Barbaries have, then are they of long life, continuance and goodness, as wanting no benefit that nature can give. Other observations we have for the continuance of a horses goodness; as from the healthfulness of his body, or inclination to infirmity, from his strength or weakness of stomach, or his good or bad digestion, from his sleep or watching, and many such like; by whose excess we may ever judge of a horses good or evil habit. And thus much for this matter. CHAP. 16. Of the weaning of Colts, of their ordering, and separating, according to their ages. SO soon as your foals have sucked a year, or within a month of a year, which is till your Mares be ready to foal again, which as near as you can compass would be about the midst of March, you shall then some three or four days before the full of the Moon, about nine or ten of ●he clock in the forenoon, take all your foals from ●our Mares, and shut them up in a close house, where they may neither hear the noise of their dams, ●ortheir dams hear their whinneing. In this house would be either some few Oats in the sheaf, some Hay, or some other provender, not so much as will ●ll their bellies, but so much as will sustain nature. The foals having thus rested in this house all ●ight, the next morning, although one Author would have you put them to their Dams again, that they might suck whilst they are able, ●et in my conceit it is very insufficient advice, neither would I have you by any means to observe 〈◊〉, but in stead of putting them unto their dams, ●t them be taken by the strength of men, one ●fter an other, and give to each of them two or three slips of savin, which done, let them rest an hour or two without meat, then after give them both Hay, Provender, and water, as much as they will eat till night, but all night let them fast, and the next morning give them savin again as before, and in this sort use them for three mornings together. This savin is the most wholesomest thing in the world for young foals, because all foals naturally, what through the phlegmatic humour of the milk which they suck, & the raw & moust coldness of the grass which they eat, are ever subject to great abundance, both of Maw-wormes, Grubbes, and Bots, which as soon as foals are weaned wanting half the nourishment on which formerly they fed, they then begin to feed and corrupt the vital parts, bringing unto foals many times a sudden and unexpected death: nay, I have known from the corruption of these maw-wormes, many times the gargil to proceed, which is a disease little differing from the plague, and is discerned only by a great swelling about a foals face and neither chaps, which swelling doth not rise above two or three hours before the foals death, and when it ryses the Foal is past cure, from all which mischiefs and diseases, this receipt of savin doth both save and defend foals: and truly before I knew or found out this medicine, I have seen four or five foals, which over night have been scoping, and playing as wanton as may be, and in the morning have been dead in the house, whom when I have with mine own hands opened, I have found no other occasion of their death, but the extreme abundance of these maw-wormes, & since I used this savin, I never had any that died. When your foals have had savin given them thus three mornings together, you shall then drive them to that pasture wherein you intent they shall run all the year following, which pasture would be a firm, hard ground, and full of short sweet grass, and some clear Springs, pond, or fresh river, & not as one of our English writers persuade, keep them fourteen days together in the house: because after a Foal is a year old, there is neither in him such fondness towards his Dam, nor such delight in milk (which a foal naturally refuseth after he comes to six or seven months of age) as will enforce him to put himself into any danger or hazard. Now the reasons why your pasture for your wean●ings should be so good, is, because if in this first year (which is the spring time of their growth) your foals shall either endure thirst, hunger or cold, they will be come starvelings, or such as we call stocked foals, which is small of stature, weak both of body & reins, and full of evil diseases: wherefore I would have all good Horsebreeders, the first year after the weaning of their foals, to put upon their foals all the strength, ●ust, and livelihood, which may begot either by food or otherwise. But as soon as your foals have past the age of two years, than I would have you put them into some ●arge, wild, hard, and hungry ground, where, by their uttermost pain and travel, they may not fill their bellies above once in the day, which will be sufficient for their growth: for by such means of sharpness, labour and hunger, they will be made hard, durable, and exceeding healthful: where, on the contrary part, rankrancknes of grass▪ and fatness of body breeds both unwholesome humours and incurable diseases, so that by keeping such observations, as are before prescribed, you shall breed a Colt, nimble, hard and strong▪ with good legs and sound hooves, free from surfeit, corruption of blood, or outward members. Now last (according to the agreement of all good Horsemen) I would have you to separate your horse-colts from your Mare Colts, in several pastures, and your yearelings from your two years old, and your two years from your three; that none going together but such as are of equal age and strength, there may be no disorder or tumult, the great ones beating the less, or robbing them of their food or nourishment. And thus much for the weaning of foals, and the partition of pastures. CHAP. 17. Of the gelding of Colts, and Horses, and the cause, the age, the time of the year, and manner of gelding. I Cannot find in any Author whatsoever, that the use of gelding of Colts, is in any nation whatsoever, of so great antiquity, as with us here in England, from whence (as I imagine) the first original of that practice began; and I am the rather induced so to think, because I neither know, nor have heard of any counttie whatsoever, that can boast of so many good, goodly, and serviceable Geldings as England at this hour can show, the cause whereof I think ●ath proceeded from our continual use of traveling winter & Summer, in which men desire to ride easily, fast, ●nd quietly. Now for as much as stand horses naturally out of the pride of their courage, do most commonly troth, & therewithal are exceeding rammish, & unruly, especially in the company of mares and other horses, there sprung from some inventing brain, both the device to make horses amble (which is the pace of ease) and the practice of gelding horses, which is the means of quietness. Now whereas one of our English writers ●aith, that a stand horse will not travel so far in a day, as a Gelding; in that he is infinitely deceived, and I impute his error only to his want of experience, for all Horsemen know this (especially those whose practice consists in hunting Horses, or running Horses, that the good stand horse will ever beat and over labour the good Gelding: nay more, whereas the Gelding, if once ●e be over laboured or tired, doth never again recover his first goodness: the stoned horse, on the contrary part, if he be never so sore tired, with a little refreshing getteth again his strength, and is again as good as e●er he was for new labour: the reason whereof, I take to be this, that the Geldings wanting that natural and lively heat which a stand Horse enjoyeth, are of more abject and dejected spirits, so that when their labour comes to exceed their strength, their faintness, and cowardliness of their dispositions, makes them yield to tiring, the sense whereof they never forego all their lives after: but to return to our purpose, howsoever this practice of gelding of Colts was begun, yet for as much as we find a profit therein, both in our travel and also in our light service in the wars, it shall be requisite that I set down the age, time of the year and moon, which is most fit for the gelding of Colts. And first for the age: although some of our late Authors would have Colts gelded when they are two years old, which in truth is a very good, sure, and tolerable time, because at that age a Colts stones will be come down, and he is of good strength and ability to endure both the grief and torment, yet I do not hold it the best and choicest time of all, for that purpose: because the longer that a Colt goes ungelt, the thicker and fatter his head will grow: his crest also will be thick and heavy, and the act itself by reason of the toughness and hardness of the strings and cords, will be both more dangerous and more painful. Now therefore the only choice, and best time of all for gelding of Colts, is ever when the foal is just nine days old, for at that time nature hath so little force in those parts, and the cords and strings of those instruments, are so tender and easy to be broken, & fluxes of blood and other gross or impostumating humours, are so little incident to foals of such youngness, that there is no more danger at that time in gelding of a Foal, then in gelding of a Lamb: neither is there greater labour; for to foals of such youngness, there needs no caulteryzing with hot irons, stitching, or other implastering, which elder Colts must of necessity have: beside, a Foal of such youngness, sucking upon the Dam, eats no bad or unwholesome meat, but living only upon milk, keeps that diet which preserves the sore from rankling, swelling, or rotting: insomuch that myself have gelt a foal at that age (when ●ine experience was almost in that matter as young ●s the foal) and have had him sound & whole in seven ●aies, applying nothing to the sore but sweet butter, which is an evident proof to confute those which say ●at the gelding of a foal young, decays the growth ●f the foal, for sure the pain being ended in less than ●auen days, the grief thereof can neither lose growth, ●or strength, but if they mean that the depriving the ●oale of those instruments so early, doth decay his ●owth, then by all reason to geld at two years old, ●ust decay it much more, both because the foal at ●at age hath more sense, use and strength, in those instruments, then at the former age: by means whereof ●he loss of them, is by a thousand degrees more painful & grievous, & the cure thereof, is never finished in 〈◊〉 month, many times not in two, and sometimes not ●n three months: which tediousness of grief cannot choose, but abate both growth, strength and courage. Now the benefit which is gotten by gelding foals thus young is, First, besides the safeness & no danger in the cure, it maketh your Gelding have a delicate fiine lean head, of comely shape, well favorednesse and proportion, many times not unworthy to be compared with the choicest Barbary: it makes him to have 〈◊〉 gallant crest, high, thin, firm, and strong: it is a great cause of swiftness, nimbleness, and courage, by which it is certain they will not tire so soon as those which are gelt of elder age. But if it be so, that your Foal have not let down ●is stones so soon, neither that you can by chafing or tousing his cod compel him to let them come down, which none but some few dull foals will do, you must then of necessity let him overslippe that time; and stay till the fall of the leaf after, for by no means I can allow gelding of foals in Summer, both because of the excessive heat, and the cruelty of the fly, both which are dangerous, and sometimes mortal to young foals: but if at the fall of the leaf, he do not let down his stones, than you must stay till the Spring, for the extremity of the cold in Winter is as evil as the heat in Summer, occasioning inward swelling, canker, and putrification: so that the time to geld foals, is either in the Spring, or at the fall of the leaf: the age from nine days old to two years old, and the state of the Moon ever when it is in the wean. If after your foals be gelt, their cod and sheaths happen to swell exceeding much, as there is no question but they will, especially if they be above six months old, when they are gelt, & such swellings do ever begin five days after the gelding, you shall then (notwithstanding some of our English writers give precepts to the contrary) cause those foals which do swell to be chafed up and down an hour together, both morning and evening, till the swelling cease, which it will do in less than a weeks space, holding this observation, that if the foal be above a year old when it is gelt, than the more it rotteth, the better and safer is the cure. Now as you may geld foals, so you may also geld elder Horses, nay horses of almost any age, & that with great safeness also, as I have divers times approved in mine own experience, without the use or help of any o●er instrument or medicine, than such as in those cases ●re used about foals. lastly touching the manner and way to geld foals or horses, all be there be sundry practices, yet there is but one sure and perfect methodde. Some there are which will take eight or ten strong horse ●ayres, & knit them fast & straight about the horses cod ●oue his stones, & so with the continuance & eating of ●e hairs, make the colts stones to rot, & fall away, but ●is fashion of gelding, I do utterly dislike, for it is both 〈◊〉 danger to mortify the member, & bring it to Gangeran which is deadly without cure) & also it is so painful, ●at neither horse nor foal can endure it without the ●azard of madness. Others use after they have slit the ●od, & taken out the stone, to cut the stone away, & only ●o melt a little yellow wax upon the root of the strings, & so to anoint the cod with fresh butter, and let the ●orse or colt go, but that is not so good neither, because upon such a cure, a flux of blood may follow, which may kill either horse or foal. The only perfect & certain way, therefore to geld either foal or horse is: after you have slit the cod, and taken our the stone between a pair of nippers, made of wood for the purpose, them with a sharp knife to cut away the stone, then with a hot calteryzing iron to sear the cords & strings of the stone, & then to melt upon them, wax, Deare-suet, and Venice Turpentine, made together in a plaster, then to fill the inside of the cod with salt, and to anoint the outside of the cod, the horses sheath, and all between his thigh & his body, with fresh butter, and so to lose him, and put him into a close house ●or three or four days, (if it be a Foal or Horse of age; but if it suck upon the Dam, then turn it to the Dam, & the danger of the cure is past. And thus much for the gelding of Horses or foals. CHAP. 18. When, and at what age to take up Colts for the Saddle, and of their first use and haltering. TOuching the taking up of Colts that they may be broke, and come to the use of the Saddle: there be sundry opinions, according to men's several experiences, yet there is but one most substantial, allbe the rest have their grounds of probability and reason: for if when you take up your Colt that you may make him for the use of the Saddle, you also determine at the same time to put him either to travel upon the high way, or to the exercise of any violent lessons: as galloping the large Rings, passing a Careyre, or managing either in strait or large turns: then I say, to take up your Colt at four years old and the vantage, is full soon enough, or rather with the soon: but if according to the rule of good Horsemanship, you intent when you take your Colt up first, only to make him but acquainted with the saddle, Stirrups, garths, crupper, bridle, watering trench, musrole & martingale, & other such necessary implements as are needful in those cases, And that for the Rider, the Horse shall the first Winter but only learn to know his weight, in what manner to receive him, how to go or walk undet him, and with what quietness to part from him: making all his exercises recreations, and benefits, and not labours or services. In this ●ase, and with a firm resolution thus to order your ●orse, you shall then take him up at three years old ●nd the vantage, which is at three years old and as ●uch as between the time of his foaling, and the midst ●f October, but if you shall fail in this course, & either ●ut of indiscretion or fury, or finding your horse's aptness to preceded your imagination, put him to any violence or extremity, you shall not only endanger the Swaying of his back, and the dulling of his better spirits, but (his joints being tender and unknit) make him ●ut forth wingals, and bonny excressions (which are splints, spavens, curbs, and ringbones, or such like) wherefore the only thing I can advise any horseman ●nto, in the whole work of horsemanship, is unto temperance and patience, especially in the beginning, because the choicest time for taking up of Colts to the saddle, is in my conceit at three years old and the ●antage, chiefly if they be Neapolitans, jenets, Turks, ●r Barbery's, and keeping the observations before prescribed. For if horses of their breed and spirit shall run wild and untamed, without either acquaintance with ●e man, or the furniture needful in riding, till they be ●oure or five years old, they will be of that stubbornness, fury & disobedience, that they will not only put ●e rider to a threefold greater trouble than the other which are but three years old and vantage: but also ●pon the least contention or crossing of their natures, ●ter into restise, dogged & rebellious qualities, which 〈◊〉 reclaim, asks as great labour & industry, as to bring a horse of good quality to his best perfection. Again, if a man will but measure time by an even proportion, if a horse be four years old, and the vantage, ere he be haltered, he must of necessity be full five ere he be reclaimed from his wildness, made familiar with the man, brought to be shod, & to take the saddle with patience: then before he be made to receive the man, to have his head well placed, and his rain right fashioned, before he will troth forthright in a comely order, change turns on both hands, trot and gallop, both large and straight rings, and perform other ground manages, he must needs be full six years old. Then before he come to the use and perfectness of the bit, or to perform those saults and manages above ground, which are both delightful to the beholders, and wholesome for the health of such as have them in practice, he will accomplish full the age of seven, so that more than half of the horses life, shall be spent in precept and instruction, whereas beginning at three years old and the vantage, a horse out of his youth and ignorance will be so tractable, that in the first six Months he will gain as much knowledge as the other in a year and more, neither shall you find restifenesse or churlishness, except it spring from your own fury; so that there is no doubt but your horse at the end of five years of age, will be absolutely perfit in all that is fit for his understanding. At three years old therefore and the advantage, & in the latter end of the month of October, I would have you drive your colts up into a house, where having a halter made of principal hemp, after the fashion of ordinary halters, only a size bigger at the least, and the ●ine thereof must be at the least three or four yards ●ng, taking some old quiet jade in your hand, go amongst them, and with all the patience, lenity, & lea●e that you can devise, put the halter upon one of their ●ads, which if the colt will not suffer you to do with ●ur hand (as it is very likely he will not) you must then ●e to steal it on, by winding the halter about the end ●a long pole, and holding it before the colts face, you ●all see him with ducking his head down to thrust it ●to the halter: this is an ordinary way, and you shall ●uer find it fail as long as you take leisure, and use no dolence. When the colt is haltered, you shall provide, ●at good strength of men take hold upon the end of ●e chase halter, which done, you shall cause one to se●r the rest of the colts from him that is haltered, and as ●were to drive them to the other end of the house: but the haltered colt offer in fury to rush after them (as it 〈◊〉 no question but he will) then shall they which have ●ld upon the chase halter, with a forcible and strong ●itch pull him back, in such sort that they almost ●ake his neck crack again; which done, let his kee●r after, leasurably, and with gentle words to go unto 〈◊〉: but if the colt refuse him, and offer either to ●nne, leap, or strike, let them which have hold upon ●e halter, with twitchings & strainings torment him: ●t if that prevail not, then let them lead him forth ●the house, and when he comes abroad, let some ●nders by chase him about on both hands, till he ●so tame that he will suffer his keeper (or some other) ●come unto him to cherish him, and claw him, and ●t he will lead up and down quietly, which when you have effected, you shall then forthwith lead him into the stable, and putting on a collar made of strong leather, both broad and flat, and with two reins; tie him down to the manger, and take off his chase halter. As for making your first collar of woollen yarn, or of horse hair (as some Authors advise) it is a curiosity, but too curious, and the expense may be saved: for after a Colt hath been once well mastered, twicht and conquered in a chase halter, he will never after strain his collar so much as to hurt himself. You shall when you place your Colt in the stable, either set him by some old ridden horse, under whose covert the keeper may safely come to him; or else in such a room where there may be space enough without danger to come & go on both sides of him. The keeper after the Colt is in the stable, must never be idle, but ever either rubbing, picking, clawing, or cherishing the colt, clapping him sometimes upon the back, sometimes upon the neck, sometimes under the belly, between the foreboothes, & about his cod. He must oft struck his legs down even unto the pasterns, & often take up his feet; and first with his hand, & after with a little sti● knock him upon the soles of his feet as if he were shoeing him, and ever as the keeper shall find the horse to give a sufferance to these motions, so shall he not only increase his cherishings, but also for reward, give the colt either bread or other provender, such as he finds him to take most delight in, by which means he shall not only bring the colt to be tame, but also to take a delight in his tameness. If your colt be of so stubborn and rebellious a disposition, that these gentle courses will not prevail, you shall then but only augment your labour, and what you not attain to in one day, you must seek to win in ●o: for it is no loss of labour if you be two days in ●ning your horse to let you but struck him, so in the ●d with gentle means you compass it; and that your ●se in the mean space learn no knavish quality, as ●ite, strike, or such like: which to eschew, you must ever serve, that what you do to a colt, you must do with ●stancie, boldness, & resolution, and not with fearless, starting, or tickling, for they are the first occa●s of a horses wickedness. Now, whereas some horse● advise you in this case to keep your horse from ●p, and so by overwatching him, to make him tame. ●ough it be a course which in mine own knowledge ●d experience, will tame either man or beast, yet to 〈◊〉 it to a colt of such yongnesse, and for faults which ●ly proceed from nature & ignorance, I cannot allow for besides that, it is unwholesome & breeds infirmi●n such young years: it is also too cruel, & brings a colt too much faintness & weakness: wherefore I would ●uer wish any horseman to tame any with over waiting, but such as are old ridden horses, & either out of ●ir own natures, or misgovernment, are not only come restive and furious, but even mad & desperate. When you lead your colt either to the water, to air, such like, you shall let some other ridden horse which ●nds next him be led before him (which will not only an encouragement, but also be an example) the colt ●ll with more willingness imitate. After your colt is brought to a perfect tameness, and oving familiarity with his keeper, so that he will be ●'d, dressed, clothed, shod, and led up and down, you shall then use him to wear 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Cavezan and Chain: you shall also 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with the musrol, and Martingall; which done, you shall then bring him to wear the saddle, the manner whereof is set down in the next book. All this performed, you shall then put upon his fore legs a pair of soft and wel-lined pasterns, but for tying his hinder foot with a woollen cord, as one of our ancient horsemen adviseth, I do not like it, because a colt being fearful, and sudden in all his motions, may by starting, or some apprehension of affright endanger the spoiling of his hinder parts. Again, a horse that is so tied can not lie down, neither take rest nor delight in his stall, which you should endeavour to procure him with all industry; and for mine own part it is a toy I did never practise: but when I had a horse of devilish quality that would strike and yerk at his keeper with his hinder heels, or turn himself cross in his stall, to strike at the horse which stood next him, in these cases I have used it but in no other. You shall whilst your colt is in taming (as near as you can) suffer neither fantastical men, nor apish boys to come into your stable, who with toying or other foolish affrights may move those distemperatures in a colt which will hardly be reclaimed. In this manner as I have prescribed for one colt, so must you use the rest one after one, if your number be never so many. And how ever other riders persuade you to take up your young mares for the saddle a year sooner than your colts, yet I cannot be induced to be of that opinion, but would have both one age, and one time of the year observed in both kinds. And thus much for the taking up, and taming of colts. CHAP. 19 Of the cutting of Colt's mouths or tongues, and of the drawing of teeth, to help the bit to lie in his true plae. THe brain of man being a busy and laboursome workmaster, to bring to our desires the depth and secrets of that Art which we profess; often times out of its own contriving brings to our ●owledge such false shapes and experiments, as ●ing but only clad in the colours of Art, for love to ●r selves, and to our own inventions, we are wil●g to Entertain them not only as grounds, but even the arts best perfection. Hence it hath come to pass, ●t some of the best horsemen of the old-past-times, ●ing got both by rule and practise more speculation this Art then other men, did not yet think ●eir skill great enough, except they could both find ●lts, and approve reasons to control and amend ●e work of nature: of which sort Laurentius Russius most principal, who amongst his better knowledges hath set down certain precepts for the drawing of a horses teeth, affirming peremptorily, that is impossible for a Horse to have a good or per●e mouth, except his two tusks of his neither ●appe, & the two wongge teeth of the same next to ●e tusks be first drawn out, because (saith he) if a ●orse be once heated or chafed, it is impossible for the rider to hold him from running away, having those teeth: and thereupon prescribes the manner of drawing them out, which should be with an instrument made for the purpose like a crooked pair of Pincers: And the teeth being drawn, to dress the gums with salt, or with Claret wine, honey and pepper, warmed together, or with wine and honey only, till the sore place be whole. To make answer to these allegations: First, that the general proposition is not good, and that the horse should not lose any teeth at all, every one knows that hath seen the work of nature, that in her creations she hath not made any thing superfluous, nor can we (how ever out of our follies we suggest inconveniences) diminish one jot of what she hath made, but by bringing to the beast far greater mischiefs. For the teeth being the strength of his food, the maintainers of his life, and the instruments both of his defence and strength, take any of them from him and what shall become of those powers? And again, a horse hath not any one tooth, which in true judgement a man can say may be spared: for first, the two first ranks of teeth which are even before, serve him only but to cut up and gather his meat: of which in number they are not commonly above twelve, both above and below, and who can allow him a lesser proprotion? Next those which stand higher in the upper parts of his chaps, which we call his grinders or wooing teeth, they are to chaw & shred his food being gathered up, & to make it fit for digestion, & they are in number commonly not above ten of a side, both above and below, which are so few, that if you take any of them away, you do not only take away his strength, but a great part of his life also: as for his four tusks, they ●e to hold in his food as he gathers it, and so to con●ey it up to his grinders, so that you may see every ●oth hath such an especial office, that not any of them ●n be spared. Now where he saith a horse cannot have a good ●outh, except these teeth before named be drawn out, 〈◊〉 if the bit lying upon the horses tusks, should by that means be defended from the chap, so that the horse ●uing little or no feeling of the bit, should therefore ●e unto the bit no obedience longer than during his ●ne pleasure. To this I say, all Horsemen know ●t the true place of the bit is directly above the two ashes the neither side of the mouth of the bit resting ●t upon the tush, but against the tush, so that the tush ●a stay and help for the bit and no hindrance, but the ●mer Author would have men imagine, that if the ●t rest above the tush, that then there cannot be space ●ugh for the bit to lie betwixt the tush and the ●ngge teeth, but whosoever pleaseth to look into ●t part of a horses mouth, shall find that there is full ●re inches betwixt the tush and the horses wongge ●th, and I hope there was never any mouth of bit ●de so broad, especially in that part which lieth ●on the chap. Thus you may see this curious invention, if it be ached into with a right sense, is both needless and frivolous, yet because of the great authority of the Author, I know it hath been retained, and held authentical by sundry horsemen, and by one of our English authors, is not only commended, but also left in re●rd to posterity; which Author, to show the love he beareth to novelty, hath to this devise of drawing of teeth, added another of his own of self like nature and virtue, and that is, for as much as he supposeth that a Horse's mouth may naturally be so shallow, that the bit cannot have any firm resting place, but shall be enforced to lie upon his tusks, or else so inconveniently, that it will much disturb both the Horse and man; he would therefore have you to make some expert Horse farrier, to slit up the weeks of your Horse's mouth, equally on both sides of his cheeks, with a sharp razor, and then to sear it with a hot iron, and so heal it in such sort, as the sides thereof may no more grow together, but appear like a natural mouth: to whom I make this answer, that I imagine neither he, nor any other Horseman hath here in England seen a horse of that shallowness of mouth, which would not give place for a reasonable bit to lie in; or if they have, surely I know it hath been so seldom, that I hold such Horses rather of a stigmatical then natural proportion: but suppose there are Horses of such shallowness of mouth, yet I say they ought not to have their mouths cut to make a place for the bit, but to have the bit moulded and proportioned according to the shallowness of the mouth, for were it necessary that all bytts should be of one quantity & proportion, than I should draw some what nearer to their opinions; but in as much as they are to be made either in length, roundness, thickness, sharpness, or flatness, according to the nature, shape and temper of the mouth, why should horsemen make themselves either tyrants or Fools, to torment without cause, or invent to no purpose, those tortures or stratagems, which shall rather make us scorned then imitated? Again, these inconveniences, a horseman shall find that will slit up his horse's mouth: first, the skilfulst horseleech that is, shall never heal it (according to the order prescribed) in such sort, that ever it will meet close again, because the searing of the skin with hot irons, doth so seaver and dispress it, that it will never after meet close together again; insomuch, that when he eateth his meat, it will fall out of his mouth, and put him to a double trouble, and a double time in eating. Also when he drinketh, the water likewise will run out of his mouth, and both annoy and grieve ●im. lastly (and which is of all the foulest eyesore) you shall ever have a horse that is so cut, both in the house and abroad, continually slavering, because the moisture which cometh into his mouth, cannot be ●elde in, but will issue forth at those open places, to ●e great trouble of the horse himself, and the annoyance of such Horses as shall stand near him; for this by daily experience we see, that those barbarous & ignorant Horsemen, which with distempered hands, rough ●rackes, or twound snaffles, do tear and break their horses mouths, that even those horses have all the inconveniences before mentioned. Now besides this drawing of teeth, and cutting of mouths, there is also a third practice, which many years since, I have seen used by Prospero, and now to my no little admiration, I see the opinion fortyfide by Solomon de la Broue, a man of exquisite practice and knowledge: and that is, when a horse doth in his riding thrust forth his tongue, and will not by any means be made to keep it in his mouth, he would have you to take an instrument, made according to the proportion of this figure here presented, which opening and shutting like a pair of flat nippers, you may in it take and hold the horses tongue so hard and flat, that he cannot stir it, and then according to the circle of the instrument, which must carry the proportion of the horses tongue, with a sharp razor cut so much of his tongue away, as he puts out of his mouth. The fashion of the instrument is this: Truly, under the correction of his better knowledge, I can give no allowance to this kind of dismembering; for besides that, it is both unnatural and hurtful to the beast, whose tongue is his only instrument for the taking up of his provender, & for the conveyance of every several kind of food down into his stomach: I see not, but if any part of it taken away or diminished, but that the horse by such lack, must incur many mischiefs. Again, this I know, that no man hath ever seen any foal foaled with his tongue, either to long or too big for his mouth, nature making every member suitable to his place and employment, so that if a horse either by custom, torment or sufferance, come to be disfigured, with such a foul and odious fault. I must for mine own part impute the whole ground and cause thereof ●o be only the unskilfulness of the Rider, who waning knowledge or discretion, either to make his bit according to the model of the horses mouth, or to suowe when the tongue is either at too much liberty, ●r too much straightened, brings on these foul errors, ●hich are not to be cured, but with much greater mischiefs, and so by these devices do imagine to cover ●e deformity of their Ignorance, for had I ever seen 〈◊〉 my worthy old Master, Master Thomas Story, or ●ight in these days see by the example of noble Sir ●obert Alexander, or any of their equal knowledge ●hich without flattery, I think Europe scarce confines) that this drawing of teeth, cutting of mouths, ●d dismembering of tongues, whereby they either allowed or practised, I should (whatsoever I thought) ●e more amazedly silent, but because I see horses of ●eir make, have no such apparent deformities, & bedsides in myself, know that all the errors from whence ●sius and others draw the grounds of these inuenti●s, have many better, safer, and more comely reme●s, I could not choose but make this protestation, and afence against this tyrannical martyring of poor hor●s, concluding thus: that if either your horses teeth ●nd too strait, or his mouth be too shallow, that you ●ake the proportion of the bit less, and fit with the ●orke of nature: and if he thrust out his tongue, as hang too great liberty by the openness of the bit, that ●en your bit be made closer, so as it may restrain the ●ngue from too much freedom: but if it proceed from too much closeness and pressing down of the bit, that then the liberty thereof be augmented, either by whole and smooth port, upset mouth or such like. Lastly, fit proceed from neither of these causes, but even from an evil habit & naughty condition of the horse, you shall then as soon as the bit is in his mouth, if he thrust out his tongue, first knock it in with the great end of your rod, and then buckle the nose-band of your bridle headstall so strait, that he shall not be able to open his teeth, and thus riding him but a week or a little more, he will soon both forget and forego that vice: and thus much for these cruel inventions. CHAP. 20. Of the separating of bad Colts and Mares from the good, and which shall maintain the race still. IT is not the diligence of man, neither the curyositie of his choice (although they be the two most especial cares which begets a man his own desires in this matter of breeding of Horses) which can ascertain unto any man, that he shall breed horses all of one stature, strength, beauty, and goodness, sith thereby divers casualties (as sickness or infirmity in the Mare or Foal, negligence in keepers, rushes, strains, heats or colds and such like (which may make foals (though they be all of one breed) much different and almost contrary in proof, some proving good, some bad, and some indifferent: wherefore I would wish every good breeder once a year, especially at Michaelmas, to look over his whole stud, and amongst those Mares and foals, which shall be three years old & the vantage, to cull out them which be most beautiful, strong, nimble, and courageous, and to separate them for his own use: the rest, which either by infirmity, or casualty, have lost the pride of their natural perfection, I would have you take into the house, and having made them fit for the Saddle and other men's uses, to send them to such fairs and markets as shall be convenient, and so sell them to their best profit. But if the greatness of the breeders place ●oe disdain such profit, it shall then be worthy in ●im, if he bestow them either of his officers, or o●her men of merit: and in this coiling of Studs, there 〈◊〉 great art and judgement to be used, for it is not at ●at age, the Colt which is fattest, best proportioned to the eye, round, and close knit together, which maketh the best horse; nor he that is long, loose, gaunt, & favoured, which is to be coiled and cast away: for the ●rst when he cometh to ripeness of age, looseth his beauty and goodness, and the other increaseth, and when his age is complete, is most worthy and gallant: wherefore as I said, there must be art used in the choice ●f coyling, for I have myself seen a Stud coiled whē●here hath been none so good left behind as those which have been sold, & made away for a little money After you have coiled your Colts and Mares of three years old, and the advantage, you shall then take a survey of your younger sort, and if you shall find amongst them any that are diseased, as with Ag● or inward sickness, with pestilence, Staggers, Ap●plexie, glanders, strangle, or such like, all which are infections, you shall forthwith, separate the sound from the unsound, lest the infection of one, breed the loss of all the rest. Lastly, you shall take a Survey of all your old breeding mares, and if any of them, either through natural defect, mischance or age, shall become barren, or 〈◊〉 you shall perceive any of them, which from year to year bringeth forth uncomely foals: or if any of them having brought forth comely foals, shall not nurse & bring them up well, but either through want of milk, or the doggedness of some unnatural quality, shall stock and starve their foals; in any of these cases, it shall be good for you to sell or make away such mares as being unworthy to be bred upon, and to store yourself with none but such as shall be both good, full of milk, and most natural. And thus much I thought good to write, touching the breeding of Horses, and all such necessary observations, as are incident for that art or knowledge, wherein if I have ascribed to mine own knowledge or experience, too severe an authority of judgement, I crave only to be censured by their excellent wisdoms, who being both owners of reason, and masters of this Art, will not condemn me till there be just approbation of mine errors, and in that hope I live their Servant. The end of the first Book. CAVELARICE, Or The Art and knowledge belonging to the Horse-ryder: how horses are to be handled, ridden, or made perfect, either for service or pleasure. The second Book. By Gervase Markham. LONDON Printed for Edward White, and are to be sold at his shop near the little north door of Saint Paul's Church at the sign of the Gun. 1607. To the High and mighty Prince of great Britain. WHen with severer judgement Ibeholde, The customary habits of our Nation: Nothing I find so strong or uncontrolled, As is of great men's Acts the imitation. Whence comes it, that to imitate your praise, Our lesser great ones, (which would else neglect The noblest act of virtue) now do raise, Their spirits up, to love what you respect: O may you ever live to teach them thus. Those noble Acts which gets the noble name, And may the grace you do the Art and us, Live to outlive, Time, Memory, and Fame, That many ages hence the world may say, You gave this Art the life shall near decay. Gervase Markham. To all the Noble and famous Horsemen or Horse-riders of this Land. IT may seem in me (by a strict construction) more presumption and boldness then either art or judgement thus to publish my rude collections, and prostitute to your censurings the depth of my knowledge, sith I cannot let pass so slight an error, which to you will not appear most gross, & lie discovered in the plainest nakedness, because you knowing all things which in right should belong to a well accomplished rider are the best able both to correct and condemn mine errors, as having in you the only sufficiency both of power and authority: but my hope is, that my worst fault is the rudeness of my phrase, not mine ignorance in the art which I handle; and though this subject might have beseemed (some of you that are my Masters) much better than myself, yet since it is the fortune of my forward spirit, to which you have given an especial liberty through your silence, let me be held excused, and what you shall find to differ either from your own rules, or from the square of ancient practice, after you have argued it with reason and the nature of the beast, of which I treat of, if then you have cause to condemn me, I will with all humbleness submit to my punishment which I persuade myself shall be most charitable, because I rather desire your loves then any other men's admirations. G. M. CAVELARICE: The second Book. CHAP. 1. ●f the natures and dispositions of Horses, how they are to be known by the colours of the Horses, and other especial marks. FOr as much as there is nothing more proper or necessary to the Horse-ryder than the true knowledge & judgement of the nature, disposition, complexion, and inclination of the horse, as being the only door and perfect entrance into ●e Art, all other ways being full of absurdities & ●nnatural blindness, it shall to me seem most expedient to show the true characters and faces, by ●hich a man shall with the greatest easiness attain ●hat speculation: Frederic Grison saith that as a horse ●s coloured, so is he for the most part complexioned: and according to his complexion, so is his disposition of good or evil quality: and according to the predominance or regency of that Element, of which he doth most entirely participate, so for the most part are his humours, addictions, and inclinations; for if he have most of the earth, then is he melancholy, dull, cowardly, and subject to much faintness: and the colours incident to that complexion, is most commonly, either kyte-glewed, black, both sorts of dunnes, Iron-gray, or pied with any of these colours. But if he have most of the water, then is he phlegmatic, full of sloth, ill understanding, faint spirited, and subject to much tenderness: and the colours following that complexion, are Chesnutte colour, Milk-white, Fallow dear colour, or pied with any of those colours. If he have most of the Air, then is he sanguine, free of spirit, bold, nimble, and pleasant: and the colours appertaining to that complexion are, Bright-bay, Darke-bay, Fleabitten, White-lyard, Ashie-gray, or pied with any of these colours: But if he participate most of the fire, then is he choleric, light, free, stirring, and full of anger: the colouts waiting on this complexion being Bright sorrels, Cole-blacks without whites, or pied with either of those colours. But those complexions are said to be the best, which having an equal mixture or composition, doth participate indifferently of all the four Elements: and those colours for the most ●art are brown bays, plain, or dapled. Dapple●rayes, Black with silver hairs, or well mixed ●oanes, the white Liard, which hath his outward parts, as the tips of his ears, main, ●ile, feet, and such like, black. The Ashy grey ●hich hath his feet striped, Grison also commends as good complexions, and notes of trac●ble dispositions: and from this general opinion ●lomon de la Broue doth little or not at all differ, ●r there is a strong rule both in nature and reason, that these colours should as well be the In●xes or Tables to direct our knowledges to the ●derstanding of the Horse's disposition, as the ●ce or complexion of a man, in which we ma●e times read, the very secret workings of his ●oste private dispositions. It shall therefore be ●oste behoveful for every good Horseman, ●st, constantly, and with a remarkable iudge●nt to behold the colour and complexion of 〈◊〉 Horse, together with all the shapes, beauties, ●arkes or figures whatsoever wherewith nature ●th either adorned or deformed him, and for●much as the best coloured Horses are so much ●e better, by how much they bear in their ●athermoste parts signs of adustion or blackness: In like case are the worst coloured Horses ●uch amended in the beauties of their complexions, if their outermost parts bear any visible marks of blackness, only your brown Bay, your perfire Black, your red Sorrel, and your dark Chesnutte, are much graced, if for a mitigation of their fiercer complexions, they be accompanied with any white marks, as white Stars in the face, white snippes on the nose, or white feet: the white star in the face is generally good, and giveth great hope of a good disposition, so it be plain without mixture of contrary hairs, stand full in the midst of the forehead, and somewhat high a little above the eye brow, the feather of the face making his turnings even in the midst of the white: next it the white rache down the face is exceeding good, and the smaller the better: for if it extend to any great breadth or largeness, then is it said not to be a rache, but bald, and that is of great defect, and a sign of evil inclination in a Horse, showing him to be faint, dull, and of ill memory. The white snip upon the nose is both good and beautiful, so it be always accompanied with a star in the face, & that the snip be so small that there appear upon the nose no rawness or want of hair, for where either of those defects meet, there the nature altereth, and there is to be expected contrary workings in the Horse's disposition: to have half the Horse's face white, as from the nose to the eye, or from the root of the ear to the Ball of the check, the body being of one entire colour, is both an evil mark, and a note of great imperfection; for white feet, some be good some bad, but generally all are bad, whose whiteness extendeth itself above the setlockes, and the higher the worse; for nothing doth more demonstratively snow weakness both in mind and body. For white feet which are under the fetlocks, some of them be good, some bad: the good are, the white forefoote, on the right side commonly called the far side: the white hinder foot on the left side, commonly called the neare-side, & both his hinder feet white: and to have in any of these whites black spots, the bigness of our english shilling or more, it is an assured sign of great courage, & much aptness to learn. The white heel, on what foot soe●er it be, is a very good mark, and of the Italians especially commended. The white feet which are bad, ●re these: the near foot before, the far foot be●nde, both the fore feet, the forefoot and hinder foot ●th of one side, or the forefoot or hinder foot cross ●auersed: as for example, the far forefoote, and the far hinder foot, or the narre forefoote, and the far ●nder-foote. To have all the forefeet white, to have ●oth the hinder feet white: and the far forefoote, 〈◊〉 very good, & to have the hinder feet, and the near ●ore-foote is tolerable; but to have both the forefeet ●nd any of the hinder feet white is exceeding evil, & ●acke spots to be mingled with any of these evil ●hites, makes the signs worse, and the horse of less estimation. The horse (whose rump or dock underneath, is full of white spots, is most commonly an excellent good horse, stout & industrious: the horse that is fleabitten by nature (as from his first foaling, or upon the casting of his first hair) is most commonly an excellent Horse and of the best temper, as for the most part your Barbaries are: but such whose Flea-bite come through late Foaling, old age, or by Art, or tycke-byting: in them these spots are signs of much evil, faintness and weakness, and they commonly appear most abundant upon their shoulders and flanks; but if they appear only about his cheeks, eyes, and nose, holding, their colour more tawny or red then ordinary, than they be signs of stubborness, ill will, and restiveness. The horse that is whale-eyde, or white eyed, is for the most part shrewd, crafty, full of toys, and dim sighted, chiefly when snow is upon the ground. The Horse that is pure black, and hath no white at all upon him, is furious, dogged, full of mischief and misfortunes: but if he be brown-bay, bright-bay, chestnut, sorrel or done, altogether without white, he may notwithstanding, be tractable and apt in teaching, only in his pace and natural motions, he will be fantastical, forgetful and incertain, more or less according to the nature of that element, which hath most predominance in him: but above all the marks or Characters, which declare unto us either the virtuousness or viciousness of a Horse's nature, there is none more plain or infallible than the Ostreige feather on each side of the Horse's crest, for in my life time I have not found one horse naturally evil, which hath been foaled with that mark or ensign; and albe those feathers, are ever accounted the best upon the crest, yet are they also exceeding good upon any other part or member of the horse, and chiefly when they are pla●ed so as the Horse cannot behold them, every horse ●y the rule of nature hath a feather in his forehead, & ●hat feather is ever the better, the higher it standeth. Every horse likewise hath feathers upon his breast, ●nd those feathers are better, the higher they ascend ●pwards towards his throat: most horses have feathers upon their necks, even upon the vain, which ●ee commonly strike them blood of, and they are the ●etter, the broader, and rounder they are: some horse's ●aue feathers upon the pitch of their buttocks, next 〈◊〉 the setting on of the tail, and they have a●ongst Horsemen been taken for a beauty and a virtue. Now when the hors-man is able by colours to distinguish complexions, and by these marks and figures, ●en as it were to read the good or evil habit of the ●inde, it shall be necessary for him then to behold ●e shape and proportion of the beast: for as stigma●all and abortive shapes in a man, prognosticate ●ill fortunes and the events of wickedness, even 〈◊〉 uncomely and monstrous shapes in a Horse are e●er accompanied with the worst vices, nature never ●owing herself a worthy mistress, but there where ●ee employeth the best of her graces. Therefore to ●ow the picture of a perfect horse in words, albe in ●ome respects I differ much both from Grison, Xeno●hon, and divers others: yet notwithstanding I will ●ast out mine opinion in this description; and although divers Horsemen (my Masters) have set it down for 〈◊〉 perfect rule, that in these descriptions we should be●in at the neither most parts, as the members whereon a horseman ought first to fix his eyes and mind; yet I not grounded in that belief, will begin with the uppermost parts, as being the most worthy, fullest of beauty, and of greatest majesty; and so consequently to our eyes, the best, fittest and most especial object: wherefore to begin with the head of a Horse, I would have it in general lean, so as every vain might be beheld in a native plainness: his forehead large, broad, & well rising in the midst, like the forehead of a Hare, for to be smooth and flat, mare fa●st, showeth dullness of spirit, much faintness and disability: his eyes should be big, black, round, fiery, and as it were leaping out of his head: the hollowness of his eyebrows would be filled, and as it were swelling outward: his jaws would be slender, lean, thin and wide a sunder: his throple, big, full and round: his nostril wide, round, & open: his mouth large, and his mosel above his neither lip, small and slender: his ear small, sharp, and standing up right: if they belong, slender, and standing upright, though they be not so beautiful, yet be they especial notes of great life and courage: his neck would be long, upright, great towards the breast; bending in the midst, and slender at the setting on of the head: his main, neither bushy, thick, nor too exceeding thin: for as the first shows dullness, so the latter shows too fiery madness, but of a reasonable and indifferent mixture, which is a proof both of strength and aptness: his crest thin, high, firm, and strong at the bottom: his withers sharp pointed, close, and well joined; yet so as a man may discern from thence the motion of the shoulders: his back short, plain, broad, and of a just level, in whose strength consisteth the beauty of all his motions: his sides long, large, and much ben●ing, with a very small space betwixt his shortest rib ●nd his huckle bones: his fillets short, thick, full, and ●welling, even with his chin: his flanks full and ●ound, having Ostrige feathers, rising up from the lowest ●art of their thinness, even to the bottom of his fil●ts: his belly large, yet well hidden within his ribs: ●is buttock round, plump, and full, without either ●utter or division of joints, or any uncomely appearance of the hips or huckle bones: his thighs large, ●und and big, well let down even to his houghs: ●is hams lean & strait, his houghs large and croo●ed like a Stag: his legs broad, short, strait and leave: ●is knees great, plain, & firmly knit: his forethighes, ●newye, short-boned, & of just proportion: the brawns ●hereof, when he standeth upright, and with his legs together, must be more distant one from another, a●ue next his breast, then beneath his shoulders: long, ●ge, and fleshy: his breast large, round, and bearing utward: his joints beneath his knees great, with ●ng feawter locks: his pasterns short & strait, the ●ownets of his hooves small and hairy; his hooves ●acke and smooth, large, dry, round, and hollow: ●s heels swelling and strait: his tail long and hay●e, but not bushy, but rather crisp and thin; the ●erne whereof, small and strong, and close coutched betwixt his buttocks: his stones and yard small and ●acke without white spots, and all his shapes in general, according to the proportion of his stature, which ●hat horse soever hath, doubtless he cannot choose ●ut be of good disposition: for 'tis hard to find a horse 〈◊〉 good shape and colour, which is by nature evil ●clinde. Solomon de la Broue, is of opinion that the temperatures and climes, under which a horse is bred, is an especial Index to declare the nature and disposition of the horse, and questionless his judgement is most sound: for generally those horses, which are bred nearer to the Sun, as the jenet of Spain, the Barbary, the Arabian and the Turk; (by which Turk as I take it, he meaneth the Greek: for the true natural Turk indeed, is bred in the cold parts of Sithia, and is a horse of exceeding largeness, strength, and sufferance, but not of frank spirit and courage, equal with the other, are ever of more pure metal, more courageous valour, and more strength and nimbleness, then either the Almain, Fleming, or any other descending from the Northern, cold and barren races: the reason being, that the Sun, doth with his hot beams expel, dispeirse, and exhall in the first, those gross, moist, and corrupt humours, which the cold and frost coniealeth, bindeth, and incorporateth in the latter; but whereas La Brove, placeth in his first rank, as worthy the only sovereignty amongst horses, as the fittest sear for Kings, and the best renowned in battle, the Horse of Spain: let me in that take leave to be of a clean different, and contrary opinion, and to his superlative hardly be inty●st to lend him a comparative, for if I acknowledge him fair, Noble, gracious and brave, I must not say most, for than I shall err exceedingly, for if we will stand to the opinions of our ancient Masters in this art, we shall find that one saith they be of too slender a mould in the hinder parts, their buttocks too narrow, and their limbs too slender. Another saith, they be weak and cowardly, and a ●ird saith they have bad hooves, no pace, and be Camerarins. Oppianus. Absirtus. ●r the most part, of cursed, and froward dispo●ion: and shall this Horse bear away the prize, ●th for inward or outward perfection? But let us compare his virtues with these former de●ctes, the same Authors affirm, he is finely made, ●th of head and body, full of lightness and quicke●sse, strong, and able for the enduring of travel, ●d in swiftness exceeding, not only the Parthians, ●t all other Horses whatsoever. Truly in shape ●ey are not in any thing comparable with the meanest of many Barbaryes, and for their swiftness, it ●ot to be spoke of, chiefly in long courses, where ●e endurance of labour is to be approved, in com●rison of many of the meanest of our English races, ●which we have spoke more amply in the former ●oke: but to come nearer to our times, and to bring 〈◊〉 best proofs from our own experiences, I have my ●e beheld some of the Spanish Studs, their Mares, ●olts, and Horses, and for mine own part, I have ●t seen any whereat to admire: many I have sheld of uncomely mould, loose and ill jointed; ●haue seen some serve in the field, and have ●ted in them great fearfulness, chiefly at the ●ght of fire: some I have ridden, and albe I have ●und them tractable enough, quick spirited, and full of ●gor, yet have I found them with all fantastical, apish, apt 〈◊〉 forget, & prone to restiveness upon the least indiscreti●, so that I conclude the jenet is a good horse, but not ●e best: witty, but not of the best understanding: fierce, but not of the most approved valour: before whom I prefer (as most principal) the Courser of Naples. next them, our English bastard Coursers, and true Englished ●d horses. Then the Greek, next the Barbary, and then the Spaniard: and all these, are for the most part either of well compounded & mingled complexions, or else Sanguine, or Choleric, which makes them apt to learn, able to perform, and least deserving the fury, either of torture, or correction. And thus much for the distinction of complexions, and the judgement by marks and shapes of the inward dispositions, which the hors-man must correct according to his experience in practice. CHAP. 2. The use and benefit of the chain Cavezan, Head-strain, musrol, and Martingall. CAuezzanna, of the ancient Italians was taken both for the Chain, Headstrain, Musroll, and that to which here in England we give no other attribute but Cavezan, or any other binding fillet over the nose of the horse, to which was used any reins, whether leather or cord; but time bringing forth divers practices, and those practices sundry experiments, not formerly known: we have not only altered the names and titles, but even the use and manner of employment: the old Neapolitans which were indeed the Schoolmasters to all Christendom in the Art of horse-manship, used for their cavesson, nothing but a plain halter of strong well twound cord, ●e Musroll, or Noseband, being 〈◊〉 lest four cords broad, well ●w'de together with strong ●ackthreed, with two noozes 〈◊〉 loops; through which a long ●ne crosswise passeth, so as 〈◊〉 pulling or straining it, you ●ay pinch the Mussel of the ●rse, and force him to bring in 〈◊〉 head, and show obedience ●hout further compulsion, 〈◊〉 figure whereof is this which ●ere prescribed. The Cavezan or Headstraine. There is no question but this ●ner of Cavezan was inuen●to exceeding good purpose, 〈◊〉 was found of great use and ●ation amongst the Neapo●es, both by reason of the ●ctability of those horses, their ●ellencie of shape (wherein ●re doth give them all the ●sible helps which may be the attaining of their per●ion) and their quick apprension of every correction joy with the moderation, art, cience, and the industrious la●r of the skilful horseman; 〈◊〉 when it once arrived with ●n England, where the horseman's charge consisted, both of Neapolitan courses, Spanish jenets, Flemings, Frizonds, & our own English mares: there this manner of cavesson was found, sometimes through the naughty and rebellious disposition of the horse, sometimes thtough natural defects, as either in the shortness of neck, straightness of chaule, or dullness of spirit, to be of too great lenity or gentleness, whence sprang the invention of another cavesson more full of torment, and therefore reputed of much more especial use or authority. The figure whereof is this. The Cavezan or chain with teeth. The cavesson made in fashion of a Chaine●, and in our English phrase commonly called the Chain, was much accounted of amongst principal horsemen, and found a sufficient correction for horses of most several dispositions; for being used with a temperate hand, without extreme haling or pulling, it makes the horse light before, firm and just in his turning, brings the neck into his true compass, & settleth the head without any impeachment of the mouth: but when this cavesson chain came into the hands of the ●uder, and more unskilful, who wanting patience to let the horse know his fault before they corrected him for his fault, or being as ●tantick in their corrections as the horse wilful in his disobedience, they have with their extreme pulling, or ●anging upon the reins of the cavesson (which commonly are broad thongs of leather) held him 〈◊〉 such a continual torment, that ●e horse neither understanding ●is rider's meaning, nor able to adure the punishment, hath fallen 〈◊〉 such a wilful opposition against his rider, that he hath euē●sted and hung his head upon ●e cavesson, albe the rider did pull 〈◊〉 hale never so extremely: ●hich fault when the rider percived in the horse, but would not behold in himself; forthwith, he ●egan to invent torments of grea●r & more violent nature, hol●ing this ethnic opinion that ●e greatest fear begat the greatest obedience, & hence came this ●ther chain cavesson, the figure ●herof is here represented: the ●nks which go over the nose be●g made hollow, and full of ●arpe teeth. The Cavezan or chain. This Cavezan I have seen very good horsemen use but with such a temperate and Lady-soft a hand, that in my conceit a silk garter would at any time have been as painful. Many have attributed the invention of this cruel cavesson to Seigneor Prospero, but for mine own part I have seen it used before his coming into England, especially in the leading of horses, for which use I esteemed it, and never for other purpose; yet I must confess Prospero was a most tyrannous and cruel rider, and out of the depth of his knowledge in horseleech craft (in which he was most famous) would adventure sundry bloody stratagems & cruelties, beyond reason. And as touching the cavesson which he most used, it was more cruel than the former, and made after this figure. The Cavezan or Chain with teeth and rings toothed. This cavesson or chain thus made with these turning rolls, by reason of the extreme cruelty thereof, as it made some horses of slothful, dogged, and rebellious disposition, more obedient and loving, of more tractable natures whereby the rider took some delight, and hope in his travel: so it made horses of free, quick and apprehensive quality, ●t times desperate, and so opposite to all the good ●opes which their complexions promised, that no●ing seemed more impossible, than what appeared in ●ason most easy; and the oftener it so happened when ●ch violent corrections came into the hands of such horsemen, who exercised the same more from the traction and use of others, then from any certain knowledge in themselves, of the nature and quality of such ●tremities; for myself have divers times seen and agued with sundry horsemen, whom I have beheld ●e with these cruel Cavezans, of the reason and cause 〈◊〉 that extraordinary terror, who could yield me no ●isfaction but this: that such and such good horsemen ●d use them, and therefore they (forgetful, that ●oso ever will be any man's Ape in such practice must ●essarily have his judgement, his temper of hand, 〈◊〉 his discretion in government) have them in ●ctise; for as amongst Scriveners, he which hath a ●ie hand must write with a hard pen; he that hath ●ght with a soft: so amongst horsemen, he that hath a ●iciall temperate hand, may draw good effects from ●el instruments; but he that hath a rough and stubborn feeling, cannot have his instruments made with ●o great softness and gentleness. Hence it came to 〈◊〉, that our best horsemen, seeing the evils which ●se evil Cavezans did beget by the roughness of their ●ne shape, and by the indescretion or the barbarous endler: but most of all by reason of the reins of such ●ezans, which being always broad thongs of lea●er running cross●-wise ●ugh the eyes of the two utmost rings, when they were once drawn strait, albe the rider did afterward ease his hand, yet would not the reins recoil or give appeasment to the horses grief, but held him in a continual pain: which considered, they forthwith invented an other cavesson of two pieces of Iron writhe abour, which is nothing so cruel as these former Chains, and made the reins thereof, of a kind of soft twound rope, being in thickness as big as an ordinary Cart-roape, which running cross wise through the rings, did no longer hold the Horse in pain then the hand did pull, but with every ease of the hand, recoiled and gave ease, & liberty to the horse so pained. The figure of which Cavezan is this. The writhen Cavezzan. This kind of Cavezan put both the head-strain, & chains out of all use, & as it is, & hath been ever seen, that our English nation is ever most addicted to strangers & strange tricks; So now this & none other was reputed most perfect & most exquisite: which when Prospero perceived, and saw the adiction of our natures, which esteemed that best for which we could give the least reason of goodness: he forthwith in●nted another Cavezan made of two pieces, of iron, allowed and jointed in the midst, full of teeth, long ●d sharp like a Horse-Combe, with reins of rope ●e the former fashion, of which this is the Cauezan●t ●t followeth. The Cavezan of two pieces. But he was no sooner seen to use this cavesson, when almost every man that would seem a horseman, began forthwith to apparel his horse in this new Italian fashion: not arguing the virtues or the vices of the instrument, but only the quaintness and strangeness, so that every one could now imagine faults, and imperfections in all the former cavezans, and now this only was good and no other: and this was for a long time in such use, that not any man almost was seen to ride without them: which when Prospero perceived to be so much divulged, and grow so general, Italian like being jealous of his honour, and seeking only to be particular (like the Soldier which renounst his own discipline, because it was made common amongst the wild Irish) refuzd the use of this cavesson, and invented an other of the same fashion, and with the same like reins only, it was compounded of three pieces, which made it more pliant about the horses nose, and by that means more full of sharp correction. The figure whereof is this which followeth. The Cavezan of three pieces. With this Cavezan I have seen him ride many times, and in his right hand a hammer, wherewith he would strike the Cavezan into the Horse's nose, by which means I have seen many foul Fartions, and other cankerous sores breed in the horse's face, which for he could easily heal, he less respected to hurt; but those violences I absolutely hold brutish, & in every rule opposite to all art and horse manship. Now to come to the experience of these latter times: we do find all these Chains and Cavezans formerly expressed to be good, so they be governed by art, and according to the property of each of their several natures, for which they were invented, yet Solomon de la Broue will allow (at least commendeth to our memories) none but the three last Cavezans, and the first plain chain, between whom and me is this difference, that I allow none of them all, but in cases of great extremity, where the sufferance of evil hath brought the horse to a habit of evil, so that ordinary means being taken away, there then remaineth nothing but extraordinary practice: for that they should be as he pretendeth like the swaddling clouts to a child, the first garments a Colt should wear, I hold it merely against the Arce of Horsemanship, and against the greatest substance of his own precepts: for if as he prescribeth, and all art teacheth, we are to fortify our Horses understanding with all manner of meekness, lenity, and patience, and that we must in no sort begin to correct till we be assured of some apparent & gross vice, then must we lay aside these instruments, which even punish in the very wearing before the man's hand come to be laid upon them. For first the pieces and joints of which they consist being so pliant and bin●ng about the nose and cheeks of a Horse, together ●ith the sharpness of their teeth, even in the sense of ●ason must breed much grief to the Colt, if either ●e rider have feeling of the Colt's head, or the colt a ●nce of his riders hand, and for the one to be without ●e other was never seen in good Horse, nor good ●orseman, nor can the fine temper of any man's hand 〈◊〉 a lawful excuse for these beginning cruelties: whirl if it were so as this french Gentleman supposes, that Colt should be first trained up with the Cavezan, ●ich I can never allow in my sleight judgement, yet ●e of these three hold I tolerable: but rather the ●uezan which consisteth all of one entire piece, ac●ding to this figure following. The Cavezan. In this Cavezan, neither is the teeth filled sharp so as it can much prick the Colt, neither is the substance so pliant that it can bind the correction longer, then is the will of the rider, but as his hand abateth, so the pain van sheth, so that I conclude, of all these Cavezans this is the worthiest to begin with, If there were not a better way of beginning already known and approved, and the other to follow, either as vice, stubborness, or resty qualities, shall give occasion, or as the defects in natural proportions, shall enforce a man to more violent practice. The use of all these head-strains, chains and Ca●ns, only tendeth to one purpose, which is but to as●e and make firm the head, to bring a horse to light●; and as it were an inward delight of his own com●es, and to preserve the mouth in sensible and tender ●ing, which being either dulled, or hardened, there ●ight followeth disobedience, frenzy and disorder. 〈◊〉 that it worketh all these, I have both seen the ●rarie in others, and found it in mine own pract● for where a Horse is naturally light headed, forgets, or fantastical, or where the Horse hath a thick ●t neck, and a straight narrow chaule; there a 〈◊〉 may with the Cavezan and plain cannon, bestow ●h art and more labour; but shall hardly either ●g the one to a staidness, or the other to any come●s, nature being a stronger Mistress, than art of such ●ke plainness: and I do well remember a Gentles, who at this day in this kingdom, is not reputed ●h inferior to the best Horsemen, who rid a short●kt courser, above two years with the Cavezan and ●ine cannon, yet brought him to little better per●ion, then at the first day of his backing, when the ●e Horse being brought to the most famous ●leman, & worthy all praise-ful memory, Master ●mas Story of Greenwich, was by him in less than ●e half year made the most principal best doing ●se which came upon the Blackheath, and myself at ●t instant riding with him, did so diligently observe ●th his art, his reasons, & his practice, that even from ●t man, and that Horse, I drew the foundation and ●ound of my after practice. Finding in the use of the Cavezan, so much insufficiency, loss of time and liberty to disorder, that I dare confidently maintain, it is neither the best nor second way to bring a horse to perfection: if then I shall be questioned what I do prefer before the Cavezan, as the first instrument to bring a horse both to beauty & obedience, my answer absolutely is, the Musrole and the Martingale, which how ever it be either unassayde, or unremembered in the Italian or French practice, yet jam well assured it is of much better effect, & hath brought forth more better examples of perfect art, than they have either delivered us in their writings, or we have beheld in their practice: But in as much as no man hath writ against it, I will imagine all men hold with it, and not go about to defend, what none in the Art I think will impugn. The Musrole therefore would be made after the fashion of the writhe Cavezan, only it should be all of one piece after the fashion of this figure. The Musrole. This Musrole must be covered with strong leather, and a buckle at one end to buckle under the Horse's chaps, like the nose-band of a bridle: then must a ●s-stall be joined unto it, to go over the Horses ●d. As touching the Martingale, it would be made ●verye strong leather, with two buckels, a foot ●ant one from another, after the fashion of this fi●e. ●his Martingale must have the shorter end thereof ●led to the Garthes' under the Horse's body, and so ●ght between his forelegges to his head, and the ●er end buckled to the nose-band of the Musrole, ●r the Horses neither chaps. ●he use of this Musrole and Martingale, is to keep ●ine and firm a Horse's head from tossing shaking ●hing or such like Antic countenances: it raiseth ●e neck, bringeth in the head, and fashioneth the ●e, it keepeth a Horse from plunging, rearing ●e, or running away, and to conclude, doth 〈◊〉 good office, and breedeth that tractability in 〈◊〉 days (albe with a mean Horseman) which the dezan or the Chain will hardly effect (though 〈◊〉 the best Artes-maister) in two months: so that I ●lude, and dare without ostentation or ambition ●ose myself against any man of contrary opini● to make my Horse sooner and more certain with Musrole & Martingale, than he with the Chain or Cavezan, how ever his estimation do precede my fortune and obscurity, The place or seat for the Musrole is upon the strength and mid part of the Horse's nose, under his eyes more than a handful, and above the tender gristle, about some two inches or there about. Grison from whom all Horsemen, and all nations have taken a great light, both of their Art and imitation, seemeth to give the least allowance to these, chiefly the Martingale, which he esteemeth as a correction, and therefore doth limmite the use to certain particular and necessary times, and not to any general benefit; the reason whereof I hold only to be this: evangelista, who was the first inventor thereof, using it always to correct such horses as would rear upright, and fly over and over, Grison, not willing to be beholden to any man's practice but his own, not proving the other benefits, was utterly ignorant of the virtues, (this for which it was invented, being the least of all other) & so like one of our old Bel-founders that never knew how to melt his metal, but by the force of a pair of Bellowe● thought it impossible that the new invented furnaces should bring any profit; but had our Master Gryson once put it in practice, I do not think either chain or Cavezan would have held with him any estimation. Now for the Musrole, that he commendeth exceedingly, and to speak truly, it deserveth all his commendations, and this shall suffice touching the knowledge and use of the cavezon. CHAP. 3. How to make a Colt gentle, how to bring him to the block, and of the first Bridle and Saddle. I Did in my first Treatise of horsemanship which I writ many years since, for sleight tastes or essays, to season the knowledge of a young Gentleman, my most especial friend, & dear ●man, set down a method how to tame and make atle a Colt, being come to full age fit to wear a ●dle, as namely of three years and seven Mo●s, or at four years at the most; at which time his ●ts will be knit, his strength complete, and his ●erstanding fit to entertain instruction, and both of sphon, Grison, Baptista, & la Broue, and all horsemen ●ght the time most convenient, and in the self same ●on I still confidently do continue: which was, 〈◊〉 having housed your colt, and with good strength 〈◊〉 help, got a chase halter made of strong Hemp, 〈◊〉 the rain above three fathom long at the least, 〈◊〉 the gentlest means that may be upon his head: ●n you offer to lead him forth, if he offer (as it is ●st likely) he will either to leap, plunge, or run a●, that then with strong and sharp twitches, you ●e his neck, and master his head, in such sort that ●e end the smallest strain of your hand may be ●cient to bring him back, and enforce him to obe●e. This mastering of his head with the halter, brings him to fear and obey the man, make him tender to all other corrections, and assures his keeper when he shall lead him in his hand, or bring him to his rider. But if he be so stubborn that he refuse to lead, and only hangeth back, then let some standers by urge him forward, by threatening him with their voice; which if it prevail not, then let one with a rod give him a small yerk or two, till he press forward; which if he do too hastily, or with too sudden a fury, you shall twitch him back with the chase halter, and upon every instant that he doth any thing orderly, or pleasing to your mind, you must not forget to cherish him, both with sweet words, and by giving him something to eat. After he will lead a turn or two gently, you may set him up in the stable, take off the chase halter, and put on a smooth collar: let his keeper ever be trifling and doing something about him, rubbing and handling him most, where he is most coy to be handled, mingling gentle words, and kind speeches in all his doings, till with your modest courtesy, without any sudden affright or rashness, you have made him so tractable, that he will suffer his keeper to handle him in the most ticklish parts, to let his feet be taken up and shod, and every convenient member to be used according as you shall think necessary, which with labour, patience and gentleness, will soon be brought to pass, where as fury, rashness, and sudden approachings, are the first means which makes a horse learn to start, strike, bite, and take dislike even in his keeper's countenance. After your horse is thus manned, & made gentle to be dressed, shod, and handled, you shall then present unto him the Saddle, which how ever Grisons opinion is it should only at first be but a pad of straw without any tree, for fear of hurting: yet I hold it neither ●o be disproportion in art, nor offence to the horse, if ●t first you set a sufficient and serviceable Saddle, made 〈◊〉 proportion and fashion answerable to this figure. The perfit Saddle. This Saddle when you first present to the Horse, let him smell to it: then rub his shoulder with it, his sides and his buttocks, and so breeding acquaintance by degrees, and with fair and gentle words, in the end set it upon his back: then take it off, and set it on again twice or thrice before you let it settle, continually giving fair words, and cherishing the Colt: in the end set it on firm, and place it rather forward then backward, except the horse by imperfect shape be too extremely low before, which your eye must judge and distinguish; for it is a rule, that the more forward the Saddle stands, the more grace the horseman gains. This done, with the help of another groom that may deliver the girths, let the Saddle be girded on; at the first so gently that he may no more but feel the garths; then by degrees drawing them from hole to hole, straighter and straighter, gird it of such a reasonable fastness, that it may neither move when he goeth, nor pinch him when he either strains himself, or breatheth: this once finished, let the stirrups which all this while should be buttoned up close be let down, that they may dangle and beat upon his sides as he goeth, to make him acquainted both with the Stirrup and Leathers, and such like implements. Now for that the Stirrup is an instrument of especial consequence in this Art, as being the ground, strength, and stay of the horseman's legs, sometimes a help in the horses lessons; sometimes a correction for his sloth or errors: and generally the sole grace or ornament of the man's fair seat and comeliness, it shall not be amiss for me to show the true shape and proportion of the right and well fashioned Stirrup, which hitherto for the most part, and of most men ●ath been infinitely neglected, some making their stirrups of such an extraordinary weight, compass ●nd greatness, that it is almost impossible for any man 〈◊〉 hold them upon their ●eete in any salt or leap above ground, or in any swift or double turnings: I ●ue seen some whose feet and ankles have run ●ite through the Stirrups, to the great danger of the ●an, and the dislike of the beholders. Some other Stirrups I have seen also made, of such 〈◊〉 immeasurable straightness, that when an armed man ●ing greaveses) upon his legs, hath put in his foot, 〈◊〉 could not without much difficulty, shake it off a●ne, in such sort that should either the horse by mis●nce have fallen, or the man been overthrown, his age's being fast in the Stirrups, there had been no ●anes of preserving his life: which to prevent, I wish stirrups to be made after the fashion of this figure ●wing in the next page. The perfit Stirrup. Which bearing his compass, or bow out in the midst, and likewise both straightened at the bottom, and the top, giveth the foot a perfit liberty to go in and out at pleasure; and yet by his shallowness giveth the man that certainty and sure hold, that it can neither at any time shake off against his will, nor easily slide past the heart of the foot, which is ever the most certain part which should rest upon the stirrup; where on the contrary part, those Stirrups, which in former time, and even at this present are generally in use, being made in the fashion of a Scutcheon, turned the ●ng endupward, are made by a direct line, either of 〈◊〉 wideness, or one straightness, and such a large di●ce betwixt the top and the bottom, that the rider ●h no sure foot hold therein, but by extreme pres● or treading upon it, whereas indeed he ought, but ●peare to touch it and no more, keeping only the ●op-leather straight and no further; wherefore for 〈◊〉 satisfaction and that you may avoid the use ther●u shall behold the fashion of the evil Stirrup in egure following. the evil stirrup. Now as touching the perfit Saddle, and the perfit Stirrup, both which I have formerly expressed and figured, they are allowed generally of all horsemen, and by la Brove in his book of precepts, principally commended and figured; wherefore by some shallow sense best pleased in faultfinding, it may be alleged, that I rob him of his figures, and deprive him of his evention, Truly for the figures, I would our Nation were so industrious, that they would cut them in such perfection as his are, which questionless are the best done I have seen; or our Nobility and Gentry so much enamoured in the Art, that men's pains and arts might not be misregarded; sure it would avail much to their more understanding. But for the invention of the Saddle, sure it is, it was neither la Broves, nor mine, but were long before we were, of much use amongst the ancient italians, & with us here in England in the time of Seignier Prospero of especial estimation, insomuch that amongst our Horsemen, and Sadlers, they were and are still called Prosperos Saddles. Now for the Stirrup, I caused of them to be made above fourteen years ago, when I was deep in the practice and use of riding, hunting horses, and running horses. Where noting well the fashion and proportion of those Stirrups, which we found most commodious for that practice, which are those we can hold fastest in the horses running or leaping, and the soon shake off in extremity when he falleth: I forthwith from the model of the hunting Stirrup, caused the like in proportion (though stronger, & of more massines) to be made for the great horse Saddle, and found them better & more certain than any I had before induced. Now to proceed to my purpose; when your horse is thus man'd, saddled, and firmly girt, your crupper sure and strongly buckled, and your stirrups of their even and due length, which (according to the opinion of la Broue,) I would have the right-foote stirroppe a thought shorter than the left, because when a man encounters his enemy with his Lance, he must a little lean to his left side, putting his right shoulder the more forward; or when he encounters with the sword, the lifting up of his right arm to raise his blow, makes him ease his right foot stirrup, and tread the firmer on his left: for these and such other like reasons, it is found fit to make the left stirrup the longer. When this is done, you shall present unto your horse the bridle which he shall first wear, which according to the opinion of my master Grison, should be the Cavezan head-strain, for he utterly disallows the bit at the first riding, till a horse can trot forward, and turn readily on both hands: la Brove, he would have the Cavezan chain plain without teeth, which indeed is more generally good, for having in it more force of correction, it bringeth the sooner and easier obedience: both have been and are good in their kinds; and divers horses I know will ride as obediently with them, as with bit or any other invention: for, for mine own part, I once rid a black bastard Courser, which was afterwards given to the Earl of Essex, in whom I found that tractability and sencablenesse, that before ever I put bit in his mouth, he would have set a turn on both hands, either double or single, managed fair, or done any ordinary air or salt meet for a horse of service: but when he came to wear a bit, I found his mouth so exceeding tender, and out of the greatness of his courage, I found him every way so apt upon the least torment to disorder and grow frantic, that I condemned myself, and found it was a course to spend a double time for one single horse making: wherefore, differing both from Xenophon, Grison, la Brove, and others, I only rely (as upon the surest rock & foundation layer of this Art) upon my famous master, master Thomas Story, who was so exquisite in every perfection of horsemanship, that many at this day, who would disdain to h●e other rank then amongst the best horsemen, were but grooms and leaders of horses to his school, and only attained their skills by beholding, and observing his practice, their eyes and memories being their best school masters: and according therefore to his rule, I would have you put upon your horse's head, the musrol before prescribed, which done, you shall put into his mouth, (having it fastened to a strong headstall, & with strong reins of broad leather) a trench, in thickness as big as a Canon of the smallest size: which for your better instruction, you may behold in this figure. The Trench. Notwithstanding I have seen, who rather to mend the intemperance of their own hands, then for any just fault belonging to the trench, have in stead thereof used a plain watering snaffle, made according to this figure. The outside of the watering snaffle. The inside of the watering snaffle. But this watering snaffle I cannot allow for any other use than to lead a gentle horse, or to tie up a horse withal during the time of his dressing, or for the groom to ride a ridden horse withal, when there shall be occasion to swim him in the water, as when he l●eth in the soil, or at such times which is most wholesome. For to apply it according to the nature of the trench, it is too smooth, and doth rather dead and dull the mouth, then preserve it in any sencable feeling: for every horse naturally, when he shall feel the gentleness thereof, will hang upon it, an● when any cause of contention shall grow between the rider and the horse, rather rebel against it, then go about to obey it: the trench therefore I conclude to be of all things most fit for the mouthing of a young Colt at his first riding. The trench being put on, which you must not forget at the first putting on, to anoint with honey and salt, that the colt may take pleasure therein, you shall then take the martingale, and buckling the one end under the horse's breast, you shall buckle the other end to the neither part of the musrol, but at such large length, that neither in the tossing up of his head, nor in thrusting out his nose, he find any impediment thereby; which done, you shall make the Groom by laying his hand on the left side of the musrol to lead him to the block, which should ever be placed near unto some even wall, so that the horse might be lead alongst the wall to the block: but if he be of such a phlegmatic or melancholy disposition, that either he refuse to lead, or to approach unto the block, you shall at first (according to the opinion of la Broue) fortify him with encouragements, fair words, clap, and stroke; but if it avail not, than you shall cause some by-stander with a rod in his hand to stand behind him, and first with a threatening voice without touching him with the rod, to force him to approach to the block; but if he still rebel, then shall he that standeth behind give him a jerte or two upon the neither part of his buttocks, & so enforce him to come to the block; when he is come to the block, both his rider, his leader and his driver, shall cherish him, and clap him, and give him grass, or something else to eat▪ but if he refuse to stand quietly at the block, and covet to press forward, then shall another slander by, with a rod in his hand stand before his face, and threaten him, but not strike him; if being thus assailed, both before and behind, and on every side, he shall fall into any frantic passion, and either seek to plunge, rear upright, bite or strike; then I would have you (according to the opinion of Grison) and the present use of the Italians, to desist from further molestation, and forthwith lead him to some piece of new plowde ground, where holding the long rain of the trench in your hand, let the standers by chase him about you, first on one hand, then on another; which done, go to him, and offer to put your foot in the stirrup; at which if he seem coy, you shall then chase him again, and not leave him till he will stand quietly; suffer you to put your foot in the stirrup, and to heave yourself from the ground three or Observation: before a horseman mou● his horse. four times together; which effected, you shall instantly cherish him, and then before you mount, you shall look that the headstall both of the Trench, & the musrol, lie close behind his ears, that the musrol lie in his due place over the midst of his nose, that the trench lie neither too high nor too low, but rest just above his neither tush, that the reins of the trench be strong, than you shall look that the Saddle keep his true place, and that the gyrths be close and fast, that the stirrups be not slipped, and that the crupper be not too straight: lastly, and most principal, (according to the opinion of la Broue) and for mine own part I hold it one of the best notes amongst all his precepts, you shall confidently, and with a heedful eye, mark the countenance & gesture of the horse, which is ever the largest Index or Table for a man to find out his secret disposition; for if he clap both his ears close to his neck, or if he clap down but one, and prick forward the other, if he turn the eye next to the man backward, as if he would look behind him, or if he snore, or crack in his nostrils, all these are very evil signs, shows that he is displeased, wrathful, and intendeth mischief; which wicked purposes you may drive from him by use of the former chasings: but if you see his countenance untroubled; his eye cheerful and lively, and his ears carried in due comeliness, you may be well assured of his gentle disposition. It is good also to have a respect to his manner of standing; for when a horse doth stand but firm upon two feet, or three feet, heaving and favouring the other, it is an evil sign of a churlish disposition: but when he standeth fast of all four, it is a sign of meekness. Having satisfied your mind in all these characters, and found every thing to your contentment, you shall then by rubbing the horses nose upon the palm of your hand, or by offering something to the horses nose to smell, drawing your hand inward, you shall see him pull in his head, and fashion his rain, to which proportion I would have you buckle down your Martingale, so that carrying his head in that place, he may have no more but a feeling of the Martingale. All these things observed, you shall then put your foot in the stirrup: and after you have heaved twice or thrice up and down from the ground, and sometime brought your leg half way over the Saddle, & down again, at every motion cherishing the horse exceedingly, you shall at last put your leg clean over; & seat yourself fast in the saddle; that is to say, with your body The horseman's s●e. strait & upright, neither bending forward, nor leaning backward, your eyes fixed betwixt his ears and your nose directly over the pommel of the Saddle, which shall ever be a rule for you, to know if your seat be comely: the chine of your back must directly answer the chine of the horse, your thighs and knees must be close and fast to the Saddle, your legs hanging strait down, as when you stand upon your feet, the ball and heart of your feet must rest upon the stirrups, & your toes and heels must be so orderly placed, that when you only move your head, and not your body, on the one side to look to your stirrup, your toe may answer with the tip of your nose: Now for the carriage of your hands during the time you exercise your horse upon the trench, it must be thus 〈◊〉, you must take the reins of the trench, & fold the one side over the other, making each side of an even length, & somewhat short; then laying both your hands upon the reins, about an handful one from another, you shall neither draw your hands to the saddle pommel, nor close to your body, but placing them over the midst of the horses crest, continually labour to bring up his head, which with a sweet hand, coming and going, with gentle motions you shall easily do: in your right hand you shall carry your rod, with the point directly upright by your right shoulder; or if you carry it travato, cross wise overthwart your breast, and up by your left shoulder, it shall not be uncomely. B●ing in this order mounted, seated and accoutered, after you have paused and cherish your horse, you shall by thrusting your feet forward somewhat stiffly upon your stirrop-leathers, move your horse to go forward, which if he do not, because he understands you not, his keeper shall forthwith lead him some dozen paces forward, where pausing a while, both yourself and the keeper shall cherish him. Then shall you thrust him forward again, and so continue, till the horse finding your meaning will go forward of himself, which will be at the most not above an hours work; and note, that in all his goings you respect not how he goes, neither which way he goes, so he go at all; but the first day suffer him to take the incertainty of his own pleasure. Assoon as you have brought him to go forward, you shall then in the gentlest manner you can ride him home, and light from his back at the block, where you must not light suddenly, but with many heavings, risings, & halfcommings off and on again: you must dally with him continually, mingling with every motion store of cherishings, If when you are lighted off, he offer of himself to depart away, and will not stay at the block, you shall force him to come again to the block, where you shall mount upon his back again, and never leave him till he stand still at the block, whilst you ease his martingale, his gyrths, and other implements, which when he doth, you shall give him something to eat, and so deliver him to his keeper. CHAP. 4. Of Helps and Corrctions, and of the uses and several kinds thereof. BEfore I proceed any further into the Horse's lessons, because it is reputed the most substantial part of Horse-manship, to know when to help, how to correct, and at what time to cherish: I will spend some little time therein. And first for helps in Horse-manship, Gryson and the other Italians will allow but seven, that is, the voice or tongue, the rod the bridle, the calves of your legs, the stirropes, the spurs and the ground: he alloweth also as many corrections, which are likewise the voice, the rod, the bridle, and so forth as before is mentioned, but for the cherishing, he speaks but only of two ways, which is either the voice, or the hand; now for that, both helps and corrections hold but in their doing this difference, that to help goeth before as to prevent a fault, and correcting comes after as punishment for a fault. I will speak of them severally. And first for the voice, Of the Voice. as it is the sound which naturally all creatures most fear, so it is in disorders the needefullest remedy: and according to the signification of the word, so it is either a correction or a help, as for example, if it be roughly or terryblic delivered, as Hatraytor, Ha Villain, or such like, then 'tis a correction for shrewdenesse or obstinacy, but if you cry Ho, Ho, or hay, hay, or Via, Via, then 'tis a help either in galloping, in turning, or any air or salt whatsoever. But if you will cherish, than you must in the mildest manner that may be, cry Holla, Holla, or So boy, so boy, and such like. Now whereas some horsemen would have a horse be helped in his going back, by crying Back I say, or back Boy, and in his advanncing by saying Hup Boy, Hup, or such like, I am utterly against it, for neither is it comely in the Rider in every motion to use his tongue so liberally, nor would I have a horses memory clogged with so much several language: but for this help of crying Darrier, Darrier, when a horse should yerk behind, 'tis as absurd as fantastical, and never in use since spur or rod was invented. Now for the rod or cudgel, it is both a correction & a help of great efficacy, especially against either a fantastical, Of the rod. quick spirited horse, or a stubborn dull jade, so that the Rider lose not his time, but correct even in the moment of the offence doing: but that it should be used as Gryson directs about the head, I am of a clean contrary opinion, for such corrections do distemper and incertain the head, and makes the horse so fearful, that if after, the shadow of the rod but come in his sight, he will cast his head on one side or other very disorderly & frantically, which of all the members about a horses body should be most stayed and certain. I do very much also differ from the opinion of La Broue, where he gives allowance for the beating of a horse about the head. Gryson would not have a rider, to ride with a rod till his horse come to wear a bit, but I hold that for no good precept, for it must either argue in the rider indiscretion to govern it, or want of art to make his horse endure it. Besides, I know that even in the first backing of a Colt, the sound of the rod stirreth up life in him, correcteth the disordering of his head, and putteth toys and fantasies out of his mind, Besides, it is such an ornament to a Horseman, that without it, he looks like an Alderman or Mule-ryder. lastly by rubbing the withers of the Horse with the but end of the rod, you shall more cherish and delight your horse then with any thing else whatsoever: the rod doth present to the Horseman, the use of the Lance, the sword, and the Battle axe, and is severally to be carried after their fashions; as in short manages,: it presenteth the sword or battail-axe, & is borne either directly upright by the right shoulder of the man, or else cross the horse's crest, & thwart the man's body. In long manages or careires, it presenteth the Lance, and is borne low by the riders thigh, but not upon his thigh with the point upward, and before you come to the place of turning, you may let it fall of the right side of his head: if you turn on the left hand, and when the turn is made, you may raise your rod upward again. Now for the helps and corrections, they be these: first it helpeth a horse in his advancing, if with the close of your leg, you either shake your rod over his head, or let it fall upon his shoulder: it correcteth a horse if he advance too high, or when you would not have him, or rear upright, if in the very instant of the fault, you iert him upon the shins, not ceasing to strike him so oft as he advanceth against your liking: it is also a great help to a horse in his setting of turns, double or single: if on what hand you turn your horse, you carry your rod with the point downward, overthwart the contrary shoulder, it correcteth a horse that is slothful or unnimble in turning, If you give him a good jerte or two o'erthwart his contrary shoulder, or if he trail his hinderfeete, you give him a good jerte or two in the flank of the contrary side. It helpeth if when in the Curvet, Capryole, or such like airs you would have him raise his hinder parts, you turn the point of your rod directly over his rump, and let him only feel it, or hear the sound of it: and it correcteth if when he will not gether up his hinder parts, you give him a good jert or two, either in his flank, or over his buttocks: many other helps and corrections there be with the rod, which shall be showed amongst the horses lessons. For the helps and corrections of the Bridle, they be as infinite as men's inventions, and as variable as our Of the Bridle opinions, for according to the nature of the horse, the skill of the Horseman, and the sense or hardness of the horses mouth, so the helps and corrections are either abated or increased, for as Grison saith, the Stern doth govern the body of the Ship, so doth the Bit govern all the motions of the horse, and as the bit doth consist not of one entire piece, but of many: as of mouth, cheek, kurbe, and such like: nor of one fashion, but of sundry, so doth the helps & corrections divide themselves according to the proportions and several fashions of the bit. Now, for it is the Riders office to know when to 〈◊〉 his horse with the bit, how to use the bit when 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 into the horse's mouth, in what part of the mouth it should rest; then how to hold the 〈◊〉 when to use the false reins, when to correct, when ●o help, and lastly what kind or fashion of bit is fittest for a horse: you shall understand, that when your horse can ●rott clean, both in even furrow, and large ring, stop firmly, and turn on each hand readily: you shall then put a bit in his mouth. Now for the use of the bit, you shall by no means put a new bit, but a worn bit in your horse's mouth, and as you did with your Trench, so shall you anoint your bit the first time with Honey and Salt. The place where the bit ought to rest, is upon his neither gums, above his great tush. For the reins of the bit, you shall hold them in your left hand, so as your ring finger may be between the reins, your little finger on the contrary side to your forefinger and great finger, and your thumb close upon the reins, with the brawn thereof turned toward the pommel of your saddle. You shall carry your reins ordinarily about the middle of the pommel of your saddle, so that when you either stop him, or raise him, your hand rise not above the top of the pommel, nor when you correct him, it fall not lower than the setting on of the pommel. divers horsemen use, and it is also the opinion of Grison, when they take from the Horse either the headstraine, chain or Cavezan, to put to the eyes of the bit false reins, for they correct a horse, if his head be unsteady, incertain, or writhing to one side or other, and of this opinion also is absolutely La Brove, from both which I thus far differ, that I would not have the false reins put to the eyes of the bite, for them the false rain and the perfect rain work so contrary one to another, that which of them you most use: from the other you take all his operation; as for example, if you will bear your horse upon his bit, then cannot your false reins be felt, or serve they for any purpose, because then the curb is in use, which kurbe cannot be felt when the false reins are used; for the drawing in of the false reins, draweth the curb from the lip, whereas when a horse comes to be ridden only with the bit, the curb should never be from his feeling, as the thing of most delight and commandment: and again, the false reins thus placed, do so draw the mouth of the bit out of his due place, and sometimes so press the lip with the straightness of the cheek, that I have found them rather the begetters of th●se vices, than the reformers, and yet I do allow the false reins, both for an amender of these faults, and for the most principal instrument to breed the best acquaintance betwixt the Horse and the bit, but then I would never have them used but to the smooth Cannon, made with the flying Trench; and the false reins to be put only to the flying Trench, the figure and use of which bit you shall see in his due place. Now to proceed to the uses, fashions and properties of several bits, you shall understand that the first bit a Horse should wear, should be a smooth Cannon for it is of all bits the sweetest, as carrying in it no offence or dislike: the fashion whereof is contained in this figure following. The plain smooth Cannon. This Cannon ordereth and sweeteneth the Horse's mouth, helpeth to settle the head, fashion the rain, and bringeth pride and lightness to his pace: but for as much as nature is a divers work woman, and giveth not to every creature every perfection, but that in every member there may be some imperfection, it shall be necessary for the horseman to have a diligent eye to every part of his horse, especially to his mouth (whence cometh the ground of all order and disorder) and if he shall perceive that the tongue of his horse shall be so unnaturally big and round, that this plain Cannon consisting of even proportion, shall lie so hard, & pressing upon his tongue, that it rob him of his delight, which both your eye may discern if you look, and also the effects will show, which are gaping, writhing the mouth, or thrusting out the tongue, you shall then make your Cannon with advantage, according to this figure in the next page. The Cannon of advantage. This mouth, & for this purpose La Broue commendeth; and his reason is exceeding good, for it giveth liberty to the tongue, offendeth not the bars, and keepeth the mouth in tenderness and sweetness, but where he proceedeth further, and for a more liberty to the tongue, giveth allowance to the cannon, with the upset mouth made in fashion of this figure. The Cannon with the upset mouth. To this I can neither out of mine experience nor reason, give any authority, for I have ever since I could first govern a bridle, been merely opposite to all upset mouths, ports, trenches, and bits of cruelty as holding them rather to be invented, either to show caprytchyousnes, of c●ing men's brains, or else to busy the byt-maker with superfluous work; or to make the ignorant believe there is a curyositie in the art, more than either sense or reason can dive into, as I will declare here after more amply; yet if such an imperfection be in the greatness of the horses tongue, that it must of necessity have more liberty than the second figure of the Cannon can allow, I then think it not unfit to make use of this other Cannon, made all of one piece; which many years a go I have found to good purpose, and now find it by La Brove commended to eternal memory, the figure whereof is this. This mouth giveth all liberty possible to the tongue, presseth not the gums, nor draweth in the lips, but giveth that spaciousness to every several member of the horses mouth, which can be desired. Now after you have made your horse perfect upon one of these mouths, which never should be used without the help of the Cavezan, than the next bit you shall use, and which is the first bit wherewith you should ride your horse, without any other help, is the smooth Cannon with the fling trench made according to this figure. The Cannon with the flying Trench. This Cannon with the flying Trench, is of all bites the only assured best, for the finishing and making up of your horse, for it consisteth of as much help and correction as any of the former cannons do, with the help of the Cavezan, and all those helps and corrections being within the mouth, and both natural & proper to every bit breeds that knowledge and understanding in a horse that no other doth: for this flying Trench is to be made in all proportion like a plain full english Snafle, having at each outward end a round ring, whereunto you must fasten your false reins, which false reins in riding, you must hold in this sort: the left side rain you must lay upon the perfect rain of your bit under your thumb, the right side rain you must hold of even length with the other in your right hand, under your rod, and when you will have your horse to feel the bit and Kurbe, you shall raise your hand up to the top of the Saddle pommel, and when you will sweeten the Horse's mouth by easing the curb and bit, you shall descend your hand to the withers of the horse, for raising your hand draws up the reins of the bit, and le's lose the false reins, and putting down your hand draws straight the false reins, and eases the bit, by which means you may keep your horse in what sweetness and temper of mouth yourself best please. This flying Trench is a great help to a Horse in all his Turns and Manages, and a correction when he refuseth the exchange of either hand: it keeps the head staid, the mouth from writhing, and the lip from being sucked inward to withstand the Cannon. When your horse is absolutely perfect upon this bit, both in every turn of each several fashion, all kind of Manages, short and long, each Salt, air, or other motion above ground, according to the nature, ability, or aptness of the horse, you shall then forbear to ride him any longer with the Cannon, for to hold him to that mouth continually, or to journey him therewith, would in time bring his mouth to an insensible dullness, both by reason of the smoothness and fullness, and also for want of a little pleasant roughness, which should sometimes in travel revive and quicken the horses senses: A gain, though every horse ought, and will be brought to perfection, and perfectness with the Cannon, yet shall the careful rider during the time of his instruction, find such divers tempers of Horses mouths, some being too tender in general, some too hard, some tender below, & hard above, some hard below & tender above, with divers other infirmities: some coming from nature, some from custom, and some from other evil habits, that he shall be constrained to try his best wits to find a bit suitable and fit: to amend the faults of which he shall have plain understanding, wherefore to make you acquainted with other bits, that you may help such errors as you find, I will here deliver mine opinion. If your horse be of a temperate and good mouth, sweet, sensible, and without fault, than the next bit you shall use after the Cannon, shall be the plain Scatch, the figure whereof is this. The plain Scatch with a watryng chain. above. But if your horse's mouth be shallow and not great, yet very tender and good, then instead of the Scatch, the Melon of some called the Olive bit is the next best bit, having only a watering chain above, and those melons or Olives, must be very smooth and full of holes which the Horse will take great pleasure to suck and champ upon: whose figure is this. The Melon or Ollive. But if your horse do suck in his lip, to defend the bit from his gums; if his bars be tender, and his gums a little hard, or if he put out his tongue, you shall then take that bit which is called the pear bit, whose figure is this. The pear bit. But if your Horse suck up his tongue, have hard bars, & a large mouth, or if he defend very much with his neither lip, or writhe his neither chap, you shall then take that bit which we call the Campanell, and it must be round and embossed; but if his mouth be little and strait, the bit must be flat: both which shapes are comprehended in this figure. The Companell or Bell bit. If your horse have a hard dry mouth, covets by low reyning to rest, and lay even the weight of his head upon his bit, as if he disdained to bear any part of his own burden, or if he continue the thrusting out of his tongue, and will not be reform, than you shall take a Scatch with two turning rolls, which is the hardest bit I would wish any hors-man to use, and is made in the fashion of this figure following. A Scatch with turning rolls. For the same faults for the which this Scatch with turning rolls is to be used, I have seen some horsemen use that bit which we call the Bastonet or jeive bit, which is made with round buttons or great rough rings, made high like wheels, and sometimes filled rough like a Saw; sometime sharp like the rowel of a Spur: but of what fashion so ever it be it is nought, nor of any great use, but amongst such as are tyrants over horses: yet for satisfaction sake, and that you may know it to eschew it, the fashion of it is contained in this figure: The Bastonet. Of all these bits both Grison, La Broue, and some others have written very largely, & skilfully, & think them (as indeed they are) mouths sufficient enough and divers enough, for any horseman to approve any practice with. But for mine own part, I have in mine experience both proved and taken especial note of two other bits, which they have omitted, and have found them to exceed almost all these other bits, for some especial purposes. The first of which bits I call the Ball bit, or poppy bit, because the chief pieces are made round like a ball, yet smooth and inden'ted like those round heads, which contain the seeds of poppy, the fashion whereof is presented in this figure. The Ball bit or poppy bit. The other I call the ring bit, for it consisteth all of rings, one smooth, the other rough, and mingled with sundry small players, according to this figure in the next Page following. The ring Byt. Both these Bits are exceeding sweet and good for a perfit mouth, they make a horse labour his neither lip, take delight in the curb, and keeps his mouth close: but of the two the ring bit is the harder, for being all of one equal bigness it presseth the tongue and gums more; and were it not for the movings of the Rings, it were a bit of great extremity, and might very well have place of the hardest; but being as it is, it is of a good composition, and will breed obedience even in the stubburnest nature. These two bits I have found above all other most excellent for tracconers, I mean ambling Geldings, or small Nags, such as are preserved only for the use of travail, or journeying, and for such men as not professing the Art of Horsemanship, respect only their own ease, and their horse's patience. For albe the hand be extraordinary rude, yet it can hardly distemper a horse's mouth with one of these bits. Again, these two bits of all other, I have noted to be most excellent for Coach-horses, or Chariot-horses, where the man sitting far behind the horses, and governing them with such a long distance, cannot by any means carry so temperate a hand, neither help so readily, nor correct so gently, as he which sitteth on the back of the horse; for by reason of the far distance, his strainings are more violent, and his eases more liberal, the first breeding in a horse a dislike, the latter a will to do evil, both which these two several mouths so temper, that I persuade myself, the most skilful Coachman cannot take exception against either of their uses for his office. To all these mouths for bits, which I have formerly prescribed in this Book, which may well be remembered by the name of close bits, many excellent and singular horsemen, partly out of their practice, and partly out of their Art and invention, which ever out of the best knowledges produceth the rarest devices, have added in stead of the plights which fold the two parts of the bit together, another Peer in fashion of a round hoop, or a half moon, which they call a Port, and some times this Port must consist of one piece, and then it is called a whole Port, sometimes of two pieces, and then it is called a broken Port. The fashion of both which are contained in these figures. The whole Port. The broken Port. After these ports were invented and put in practice, their cruelty being by many degrees greater than could be found in the close bit, could not choose but at the first make the horse bear much more tenderly then with the close bit, for what through the extreme galling the horse upon the roof of the mouth, or the bars, and what through the pressing the tongue with the two sharp corners of the neither end of the Port; (albe the liberty of the tongue is all the reason men have for these kind of bytts) it did bewitch men with an imagination of some profit; yet in the end of the work, I never saw it turn to any thing but disorder: to these Ports were added by the Italians another mouth in stead of them much worse than they, which are called upset mouths, for they have both sharp corners above and below, and carrying an even breadth in the upper part, consisting of many foldings and pieces, hurt not only in one place, but generally over all the mouth. I have seen both of these ports, and upser mouths, which to make them more cruel, have had in the tops of them high wheels, sometimes filled rough, sometimes made like a spur rowel, bigger than in the Bastonet bit, which hath made me admire how men for pity could be so tyrannous, when the greatest fault in a horse is the soon reclaimed with gentleness: others to these upset mouths, have added from the eye of the bit to the outside of the upset, a st●g ●nch, which makes every cruelty in the bit grea● 〈◊〉 ●of it own nature. The fashion of which vpset●, for you● satisfaction, you shall behold in these figures. The 〈◊〉 mouth. The upset mouth and trench. Both these ports and Vpset mouths have received allowance both from Grison, and divers other ancient Italian riders, and likewise in these days, not only pass under the authority of La Broue, but even in our best nurseries, or stables of England, we shall see of them put in use daily, whence of necessity it must come to pass, that I shall be infinetlie condemned, so peremptorily to condemn that which so generally is allowed: to which I must answer as our great Lawyers do, (which hold contrary opinion in many cases, how ever otherwise censured in the days of their forefathers) and I must say, what ever other riders have done, I have found these bytts nought in my practice. But they will say that was either mine abuse in prepounding false shapes, or my misuse in wan● of knowledge; to both these allegations I will make no answer, only to show the eu●nes of these mouths, I will propound my reasons. First all the arguments of goodness that Grison or any other can give for them, is the liberty of the tongue, which absolutely I deny; the port doth if it be made in his just compass, for the two neither ends, almost meeting together, even press down the tongue hard to the chaule, with more sharpness than any other bit, except you will have a horses tongue to be no bigger than a man's finger: but say you will not allow it that straightness, but that the port shall be much wider, I say, if it be so wide as to give liberty to the whole tongue, the bit shall then consist of little or no mouth but the port only, which all Horsemen know, would be an unpleasant bit. Besides, this all Horsemen know, that the too great liberty of the Horse's tongue, is the first occasion of a horses drawing up his tongue, seeking to swallow the bit, striving to put his tongue over the bit & such like, wherefore it is not good too give the tongue to great liberty. But conclude they had this one virtue, what were it to the many vices which follow: first they gaul a horses bars, & make them insensible, they force a horse to gape, & the outward part of the bit doth press so sore upon the horse's chap, that they either burse it, or breed in it a nuns, which taketh away all feeling, whence springeth inconstancy of head, rebellion, & flat running away. But you will answer me with Grison, that these ports should not be so high as to touch the roof of the mouth, & then not to occasion gaping: them I say they cannot be ports at all, nor carry any more compass than the close bit, whose plights I will stand to it, whensoever the cheek of the bit is drawn inward, do continually touch the bats, to conclude, there was never that horse made or corrected, with these open mouths, I mean ports & upsets, but may be better made & better corrected with one of the close bits before specified. Some peradventure will ask me, what can the ancient Italian riders ere in their inventions, O, no, men more grossly, witness Prospero & his schoolmasters. Besides I knew a Gentleman of great practice who being wholly brought up in Italy, to the art of riding, was merely opposite to ●l Chains, Cavezans, Snafles, Trenches, & false reins, & only would make his horse from the first hour of his backing, with the bit; having bits of so many several fashions, as there be faults or disorders in a horse, to his bytts I have seen such rings mounted one above another▪ that a german clock hath not consisted of more confused pieces. this Gentleman did I never see bring forth an absolute perfect horse. But for runaways & mad jades, I have known him have seven or eight in his charge at an instant. But now leaving the praise & dispraise of these bytts, to your experience in practice: I will proceed to the cheeks of bytts & their proportions. First, albe there be many fashions in use, & sundry figures set forth by La Broue & some others, yet I will only recommend unto you but three, the first is a strait cheek, which indeed is the first cheek, I would have a Colt wear, for it putteth up the horse's head, gives him sense of the curb, & breeds a constancy in the carriage of his fore parts, the second is the broken cheek, which is to be used wlth the flying Trench, and when you lay aside your Chain or Cavezan, this cheek as it holdeth up the neck, so it bringeth in the moosell and boweth the crest to the best fashion of the rain: the third is the perfect or traveling cheek, which is to be used when a horse is at his full perfection, & made complete, so as he is either for travel, pleasure or service; this cheek carrying a larger compass then either of the other, bringeth in the head more than any other, & giveth a more comely grace, both to the horses rain, and the eye of the beholder, for 'tis to be noted that the more compass a bit carrieth, the more it compasseth & bringeth in the horse's head; & the straighter the cheek is, the more it putteth up, & advanceth both the head neck and muzzle. Now from these three cheeks are derived divers other cheeks, as the strait cheek broke in two parts, & sometimes three parts, or the compass cheek broken in 1. 2. or 3. parts, & all the break made inward, contrary to the breach of the first broken cheek, and each breach made more inward than other, & all these cheeks are to be used according to the length or shortness of the Horse's neck, the straightness or wideness of his Chaule, according to his pride or evil disposition, to rain well, which your art & knowledge must better judge by your practice, than I by writing can give any description. Now the cheek considered, which imitating Gryson, I take to be but from the neathermoste part of the eye of the bit downward, to the utmost length of the bit, you are then to respect the eye of the bit, which should be a half circular compass of just proportion or bigness, with the mouth of the bit, so as it may come and go without rubbing or sticking: then from the eye of the bit upward, to that part whereunto the headstall of the bridle is fixed, which the Italians call Stanghetta, you are to observe such a length, that through the shortness, the curb do not fall below the round ball of the neither lip, nor through the length thereof, fasten or bind about part of the bare chap, but lie in his due place, which is to rest upon the thick of the neither lip, where the two neither chaps meet, and make one entire bone. Now that your eye may give your ear better instructions, you shall behold the fashion of the three principal cheeks in these figures following. 1. The strait cheek. 2. The Broken cheek. 3. The traveling cheek. Now forasmuch as I did formerly show unto you amongst the mouths of bits, two mouths which I did not only commend for great horses for service, but also for abling & traveling Geldings, and above others for coach or Charryot horses, I think it not amiss, sith the purpose of this my whole discourse is to give general satisfaction to all people which desire knowledge in this art, to show you here also the true proportion and fashion of that cheek which is most fit for the Coach-horse, with this general note, that the cheeks of the Coach-horse bit are ever to be divided one from another at the neither end, not with any chain, lest the horses in rubbing one upon another, or in casting their heads upward or downward, do fasten their bytts together, & so cause trouble or disorder: the fashion of the cheek is contained in the next page following. The Cheek for the Coach bit. Having thus showed you both the mouths and cheeks for bits, it resteth now that I show you the true curb and the nature thereof. Of Kurbes, divers horsemen have invented divers fashions, as some of Square links, some of square pieces filed sharp with points l●ke Diamonds, some made all of one piece of iron and joined to the port within the mouth of the horse, and sometimes those whole pieces of iron having sharp pricks of iron, which as the bit is drawn up run into the chap of the horse: all which being cruelties and tortures, both barbarous & unnatural, I both condemn and loathe exceedingly as being only brought fourth by error and absurdity. The true curb therefore which is in use and practise with all good horsemen, is that which is made of round links of iron, folded according to the fashion of the Roman S. & the bigger such links be, the better ever they be, and do less hurt and gall a horse then the small Chain, which through his smallness, when it comes to beusde with a rough hand, doth even cut as it bindeth, or being used with a moderate han, din his oft motions, or even with the playing of the horses lip which is the only token of a good mouth, it many times frydgeth off the hair, I & sometimes the skin from the horses neither chap, by reason whereof there many times grows under a horse's chin, hard kernels, or tough skins, which takes away both the sense and use of the curb. The fashion of the perfect curb and hook you may behold in this figure following: The curb and Hook. Now whereas some horsemen give advise, that wh● the curb hurteth or galleth, either to ride without a curb, or else to make a Kurke of thick double Inkle, or great Fillet Lace well plaited together. For mine own part I dislike them both: for first to ride without a curb, is clean to take away the true use of the ●ytt, & to make the horse take such an evil habit or false custom by such needle's forbearance, as will ask much labour after to redress, and lose much time, which might be spent for the horses better knowledge. Then for this kurbe of Inkle, it is both in nature & feeling so contrary to the perfect curb, that where it should prepare a horse for the wearing of the curb, it rather makes him utterly to forsake it, and never after constantly to endure it, how ever laboured by the best means whatsoever: therefore if there be any such gallings in the place of the curb, I wish the horseman rather to anoint it; and by his own temper of hand, and the use of the Cavezan to heal it, then by forbearance of the curb, or making strange Kurbs, hazard worse evils: And to observe this general rule, that a man must not ●e haling and pulling at the curb, but bring his horse to such a temper, that resting his head upon the bit, he may feel the curb and no more. Having thus showed the helps of the bridle, & bit, Of the calves of the legs. the next is the help and corrections of the calves of the legs, which I can neither so well deliver, nor you so well understand as you shall hereafter when I come to the horses lessons; yet some little taste I will give you: you shall understand that when you either trot or gallop any large ring, manage, or set any turn whatsoever, look of what hand you do any of those round airs: as for example, if you would turn on your right hand, if your horse stick, and do not bring his body round and close together, but cast out his hinder parts, if then you give him a stroke with the calf of your leg upon the left side next behind the foremost garth, it is then in nature of a correction, and gives the horse warning of the Spur, which doth second if amendment be not: if when your horse doth stop, and you by leisurely laying the calves of your legs to his sides make him advance (which is an ornament to his stop) in that place it is taken for a help; if when you set any lofty or swift turn, you do covertly lay the calf of your leg to his contrary side, at or upon every advauncemnet; it is then also taken for a help; but this must be done to a ready horse, with such artificial closeness, that even the finest eyed beholder must hardly perceive the motion, otherwise it is gross and uncomely: for in that I consent with La Broue, that these far fetched motions with the legs, these flank spurrings, and university riding, ever digging in a horses sides, are the most preposterous motions that can be seen in a horseman, and are with us of too great use here in England, and chiefly with some who take upon them the skill of instructing others. Next this is the help of the stirrup, and the stirrup Of the stirrup & the leather● leather, which how ever it be neglected is yet doubtless exceeding good, and helpeth a young horse much ere he come to knowledge: for if by carelessness or neglect, he either carry his neck or head awry, if you give him a good clap with your stirrup behind the foreshoulder on the contrary side, it will correct the fault, and put him in remembrance of his lesson. Again, if in any galloping, manage, turn, ●ault, or carreire, your horse begin to grow idle, and do ●ot pursue his lesson with spirit and agility, if with ●our feet you do but ierte out your stirroppes and ●athers stiffly, and with a good strength, it shall as ●uch avail to his quickening, as if you gave him the e●en stroke with both your spurs; and therein it is counted a great help: again those jerting and thrustings ●orward with your legs, stirrups, & leathers, are and ●hould be the first motives to make a horse go forward ●t his first backing. The next help and correction is of the spurs, which ●urs, although some riders have fixed a limitation, or Of the spurs. prefixed time when they shall be worn, or used, yet ●am of this opinion, that if he be a horseman which wears ●em, can govern both his body and legs, and knows ●hen to correct, when to help, and when to cherish, ●at the spurs are to be worn even from the first brea●ng of a colt; for be well assured that the sooner a horse 〈◊〉 made to know the use and correction of the spurs, ●e freer he shall be from restivenesse, madness, and other frantic qualities: Now to know when you shall first correct a horse with the Spurs, it must seldom be in the violence or chief exercise of any of his first lessons, as in trotting the Ring fast or galloping: but rather in the beginning when you teach him to go or troth forward; for if from the Stable you troth him through some town, where he find scars or frights, seeming to be fearful, and loath to pass: if after you have violently thrust him forward with your feet & stirrop-leathers; yet notwithstanding he still sticks, it shall then be good for you to give him the even stroke of your spurs, and thrust him into a swift trot for some twenty paces, and then cherish him. Thus you shall use him at least a dozen times in a day, till he come to both a knowledge, tenderness, and fear of the Spur. The Spur of all other is the severest correction, and is generally used in every lesson, wherein he showeth extreme dullness, too much apish wantonness, too fierce courageousness, or too dogged restines as shall be more amply declared both in his lessons, & the particular corrections of vices; it is a help in every Manage, salt and air above ground; and makes them be done with more life and quickness, as likewise shall hereafter be declared. Lastly, for the help or correction of the ground, it consisteth in the use and treading of the Rings; for if the horse take not up his feet nimbly and roundly, than it shall be a good help for him to be exercised upon deep new ploughed lands: but if he be too fierce & raging, insomuch that he will not troth with any temperance or patience, than you shall correct him by exercising him likewise upon deep new ploughed lands, whose softness and painful labour will soon bring him to a calm and quiet riding, with diverse other such like helps and corrections, which shall be more largely spoke of when we come to the horses lessons. CHAP. 5. How to correct a horse that beareth his head or neck awry, and of all vices belonging to the head. divers horses, partly through the bad complexions, and constellation, under which they are bred, & partly through the rude and unskilful handling of most indiscreet Riders, are many times cumbered, with most foul and unsufferable disorders, such as are oft times difficult even to the best riders to redress, nature begetting, and custom fortifying their evils against the strength of all industry; wherefore that I may as well as I can, d●rect such as are desirous of knowledge, through these dark obscurities, they shall understand, that faults engendered by these two evils, have two several remedies; for if they do proceed from nature, them must art correcting the evilness of that nature instruct to a better disposition; but if they proceed from custom & licence to do evil, than the liberty taken away, the effect thereof must needs perish; wherefore to my purpose, if your horse carry his head and neck awry, you shall first as he trotteth outright, strike him with your contrary spur on the contrary side, & withal carry the rain of the bit on the contrary side somewhat shorter than the other; and if at first it avail not, you shall then carry the calf of your leg close to the contrary side, and at every four or five steps, let him feel the even stroke of that Spur. At the use of which if you find he any thing amendeth, forthwith you shall take away your leg, and begin to cherish him, that knowing his evil he may eschew his evil; for horses naturally are like schoole-childrens, unwilling to do shrewdly, chiefly under their riders. It is very good also, on the contrary side, to give him a good stroke with your stirrup near the shoulder, which will make him cast his head the other way to look at the blow▪ which assoon as he doth, ease your bridle hand, take away your foot and cherish him. The use of which correction joined with your cherishing, will in time bring him to the knowledge of his error, and when it is once known, it is also reclaimed: to these former corrections, would also be added the correction of the rod upon the contrary shoulder, for to some horses both are little enough to awake their remembrance: to these corrections you shall also add now & then a sharp & sudden twitch or two with the contrary rain of the cavesson, which will bring him to as sudden an apprehension of that fault, as any other correction before showed, ever observing upon the lest imagined amends, not to forget to cherish him. It is good now & then also to give him a twitch or two with the contrary rain of the flying trench, which will awaken him, & if it be but only in a gaze, yet it will make him look strait, which you must carefully watch, & in the very instant of his strait looking, not forget to cherish him. But if nature & use have so incorporated this vice in him, that all the corrections avail not, then shall you carry him to his rings: & if it be so that he carry his head & neck to the right side, then shall you troth him about in a swift trot on the left side, some 20. or 30. times without intermission, according to the strength & ability of the horse; & as he trotteth, labour his contrary side with the calf of your leg, the rain of the cavesson, and of the flying trench, and if he be come to that lesson, it shall be most good to labour him some quarter of an hour together in the Incavallare & there is no question but by these means (and these corrections, joined with a watchful eye and mind, to cherish him at every well doing) he will in very short space he brought both to the perfection of head and neck, and to carry all his body in an even proportion: in all which corrections I would have you mingle the use of the spur but now and then; yet when you strike, to strike freely, & sound, for the tickling or fridging of a horse with the spur is a gross fault, and doth breed manifold disorders. But if it be so that he wrieth only his muzzle, that is his nose and mouth awry, and uncomely, except he Of the writhing of the muzzle only. have taken it up of a long custom, the very bearing of the contrary rain of the bit shorter than the other will amend it; but if it fail, I would then have you gird his chaps close together with a musrol, that he may not mouth or writhe them, and then in stead of a rod ride with a good hand cudgel, & of that side which he wrieth his mouth, beat him with your cudgel, yet so moderately, that you neither bruise nor hurt his chaps. And after such correction, still to carry your cudgel in his eye of that side which he most writheth: This means applied but two or three days will without all fail help any horse from this fault; I have seen some horsemen use another course, but I stand doubtful of the goodness; yet this it is; they have put three or four little sharp nails on the inside of the Ports-mouth of the contrary side, & likewise three or four nails in his musrol, and as many in his headstall all of the contrary side. These nails you may keep hid from sight at your pleasure, either if your headstall be of double leather, or if you set them in a thin plate of Iron, not so broad as the headstall, with these ride your horse about some fortnight, and it will reclaim him: yet I am very doubtful of this remedy, because there is no end of the correction, nor shall the horse when he obeyeth your pleasure, find any ease of his punishment; by which not knowing his fault from his well doing, he shall the longer continue in his evil. But if your horse carry out his nose, and rain not well, how ever any man defend such carriage, yet even If a horse rain not well. the judgement of our sights, and a world of reasons purposeles to repeat, assures us of the contrary. Wherefore when your horse hath taken unto himself any such fault, or use, you shall first draw in your bridle hand, against which if he rebel, you shall then hold your hand at that certainty, and with striking him with your spurs one after another, give him knowledge of correction: & if upon the correction he offer to press forward, you shall clap your right hand upon the middle of his crest, & hold his neck down hard, & draw your left had up a little straighter: this doing 3. or 4 times together, you shall find he will bow his neck, and a little put in his nose; upon the instant perseverance whereof you must not forget to cherish him, but if out of his melancholy or phlegmatic complexion, he withstand and rebel against this correction, you shall then compel him to go back eight or ten paces, and then troth him forward again, then backward again, and forward at the least a dozen paces together. This is a most ready remedy for this error, but if stubbornness have taken away the benefit of this, you must to these corrections add the benefit of your bit, which must be made of more compass, as consisting of at least three broken descents all broken inward, upon which kind of bit it is impossible for a horse to stay or settle his head but he must needs bring in his nose, and though at the first out of stubborness he may seem to carry his head of him ●elfe without the help of the bit, yet after long exer●ce and weariness, he will be forced perforce to bring in ●is nose, and rest upon the bit. But if contrary to this ●ice, he have taken a custom to duck down his head, Of ducking dowue the head. when he standeth still, which is a most uncomely sight yet very incident to divers horses. You shall then upon your stop, hold both the reins of your bit, & of your Cavezan firm as at the stop, & by pressing your feet stiffly forward upon your stirrups, hold him that he retire not back, and if then he offer to duck down his head, you shall then give him a good chock both with your bridle and Cavezan. After which if he offer the like again, you shall then give him a stroke with your spurs, one after another, but if he be of a hot and choleric nature mad and furious, you shall ●hen upon every correction instantly cherish him, that he may understad you correct him, not for going, but for some other disorder in his going, and this shall not only detain him from striving against his bridle, or running away, but also give him so easy an apprehension of his fault, that he will in very short space amend it, but if he have taken such a general custom of ducking down his head, that even in his ordinary trotting, or galloping, or going, he will still use the same; you must then leave exercising him in any lesson whatsoever, and only pace or trot him fairly forth right, never giving him the least taste or feeling of any correction, till he duck down his head; in the very motion whereof, give him the even stroke with both your spurs, & a good chock in the mouth with your bridle hand, that he may understand his fault proceedeth from his mouth: which done, place him fairly forward again, and as oft as he shall offend, use this correction, and fear not but within three or four days he will be sufficiently reclaimed. Many other corrections I have seen for this fault of much more cruelty, but they have never tasted well in mine experiences, as for example: I have seen some, that for this fault have made the curb of their bit all of one piece of iron, and the one end thereof fastened within the mouth of the bit, then have they had that part which lay without upon the lip, all full of sharp pricks, which when the horse hath offered to thrust down his head, by drawing or holding the reins in one constant fashion, the pricks have run into his chaps, by the sense of which torment, the horse hath been reclaimed, the reason I confess is probable enough, yet where more lenity will serve with as little labour & less cost, there I wish rather the forgetfulness than the use of these cruelties, & for mine own part I have never sound the horse which the former corrections would not order & bring to a most settled constancy. CHAP. 6 How to correct a Horse that doth overreach or strike one foot upon another. OVerreaching is a fault incident to young horses, weak horses and evil trotting horses; it is also begotten by the unskilfulness of the rider, when at the first handling he will thrust the Colt into 〈◊〉 swift a trot as he can possible without respecting the ●orses strength or natural skill in trotting, by means ●hereof the Colt striving to go beyond his ordinary ●anner, is enforced to overreach and clap his feet one ●on another, which in small time grows to an evil ●stome, wheeras every horseman before he back a Colt, should have a diligent eye to his natural pace, & ●it be comely & short, then he may venture more boldly, to enter him into a swift trot, which will but make ●im stretch out his legs, & bring lightness to his body, ●ut if his trot be long and weak, then must he by any means keep him to a slow trot, & feeding him with ●is hand, which even in the instant that it giveth liberty, it must restrain it again, bring the horse to a pride in himself, & a shortness of pace. He must also refuse to ●et a weak or loose trotting horse come upon deep ●lowd lands, till he have attained his pace, & brought it ●o a convenient shortness, but if it so happen (the reason ●ot being to be disputed on) that your horse doth over-teach, and it is now your office to redress it, you shall first (having shod him with shoes extaordinarily short at the heels) bestow some three or four days labour in bringing him by the tenderness and gentle use of your hand to a soft and slow trot; in with slow trot, you shall with the help of the calves of your legs, the sound of your voice, shake of your rod over his ears, and now and then with the even stroke of both your spurs so quicken and stir him up, that partly out of courage partly out of fear, he may gather up his feet so thick, and set them down also so thick, that he may seem to troth as he standeth, and gaineth no ground, which use will bring him to such a shortness of treading, that within a little space he will clean forget his overreaching, and lose long trotting, but if he be of so dull and heavy a disposition, that this agility & quickness will not be forced into him, than it shall not be amiss if you dig your large rings full of stairs and degrees, such as you shall see worn by track of horses in the foulest winter ways, and for a week or there about only exercise him in the same, and as he grows cunning in them, so to increase the swiftness of his pace. I have not approved any correction better than this, for this fault. To ride your horse in a hard ground that is verieful of thistles, or amongst short gorsse or whins is exceeding good, both to remedy this evil, and to make a horse ●rot loftily and cleanly, for it will even make a natural ambler to troth. As touching the strowing of your tinge with stones of all sorts, thereby to take from him his overreaching, I am much against it, for there is no reason leads the use, and sure I am, there be many evils which pursue it, as namely the bruising or tearing of his hooves, the bea●ing him upon the neither joints; which will not only bring forth windgalles, but also lameness; and the incertainty of his footeholde, which to the weakness of his pace will bring not only stumbling but also falling. And thus much I think sufficient for the amendment of of this fault. CHAP. 7. How to correct the evil motions in a horse, which are showed by the carriage of his head or ears, or other outward signs. divers horses when they are corrected for any fault, and especially with the spur, will shake their heads, which is a sign of much malicious doggedness, and desire of revenge; which when you shall perceive, immediately give him the even stroke of your spurs, and if he double his offence, do you also double your correction, not giving over till you have got the conquest; and to that correction mingle two or three good strokes with the big end of your rod, upon his head between his ears, but if you perceive that he pricketh forward one of his ears, and clappeth the other close to his neck, be then most assured he intendeth some mischief: as to plunge, to bite, to strike or to lie down, which to prevent, omit not to interrupt him, by giving him a sound stroke on the contrary side to that ear which he most moveth, with your spur, and if he instantly raise not both his ears together, second that stroke with two or three more, that your correction going beyond his frenzy, you may turn his sullenness into fearfulness: it shall not be amiss if to these former corrections you add the terror of your voice by threatening him with a loud voice; and presently upon his amendment, both convert your corrections to cherrishinges, and your threatenings to sweet language. Now you are to take this observation ever with you, which is, that you be sure when he useth any of these motions, that they do proceed from the sullenness and evil habit of his disposition, complexion, or ill instruction, and not from other second causes: as if at the time of the year a horse be stung with flies, or a fly chance to get into the horses ears, if it be so that the headstall of the bridle shall hurt him about the top of the head, or about the roots of the ears, or if the Saddle shall wring or pinch his back; or if you shall ride so close with your heels that your spurs tickle him upon the sides, there is not any of these causes but will make a horse shake his head, lay down his ears, and show these frowning countenances of much sullenness; which if at any time you find, do but remove the cause, and the effect will little or not at all trouble you, which if it do, you may soon either by thrusting him roundly forward, or with the even stroke of your spurs, put such to yes out of his remembrance. If either in your traveling, marching, or consorting amongst other horses, your horse shall be so rammege and vuruely, that he will not endure their company, but fall a whynning, biting & striking, you shall immediately upon any of those offers, give him the even stroke of your spurs●, doubling it so oft as his frantic disposition shall give occasion, to which correction you shall add the terror of your voice, and in great extremity the stroke of your rod between his ears. La Broue is of opinion, that to take from a horse this fault, and to breed in him an acquaintance and familiarity both with other horses & the use of travel, that it is very good now & then to hunt your horse amongst other horses, & sometimes to follow the chase. Questionless it cannot do amiss in his sense, and his reason is very well to be allowed of, for he doth not mean our English manner of hunting, but the French manner where the chase is neither so swift, so painful, nor so long enduring as ours here in England are: for to take a horse in the fullness of flesh and fat kept; in the height of pride and ease, and run him but one sent after our English hounds, and amongst our hunting horses; believe it he shall be the worse for it the whole year after, albe his keeper perform his full office and duty, but the meaning of La Brove: is moderate exercise and travel, either in hunting or otherwise amongst other horses, according to the ability of the horse, brings a horse from such wild corruprions of mind & nature, and to such peaceable acquaintance with other horses, that neither in travel in the land of peace, nor in service in the wars, he will show any barbarous or rude disposition. CHAP. 8. Corrections against restifenes, and the several kinds thereof. restiveness proceedeth from two causes, Nature or Custom, Nature as if the horse be of base and wild spirit, or of too stout and courageous fierceness; Custom, as from the toleration and sufferance of the unskilful rider, who either wanting knowledge how to correct, or valour to dare to correct, fortifies by his ignorance or cowardice, those errors in the horse, which with much art and difficulty are reclaimed. Now for natural restiveness, that which proceedeth from baseness, is when a horses exercise exceeds his own will, or that he is a little wearied, forth of faint spirit he immediately giveth over, and will do just nothing. That which proceedeth from pride of courage, is when any labour exceedeth his own appetite, he immediately falls to plunge, striking, biting or such like, thinking to ease himself by the disease of his rider: as for those plungings, or leapings, which a horse doth use at the first mounting, I hold them rather to come from ignorance then restiveness, and are soon amended. Customary restivenesse is when a horse finds, his rider afraid of him, and that he rather suffers him in his evil, then dares to punish him, from whence the horse takes such stoutness, that what he will do he will do, and more he will not do, even in despite of his Rider, Of these kinds of restiveness, that which comes of custom is the worst, because it adds as it were to these another worse than any; that is, when natural restiveness, and customary restiveness meet both in one subject, and so joining both their forces stretch art to his highest knowledge. Wherefore to begin first with such horses as are Of restiveness coming of base nature. restive out of the baseness of their natures; if such a one you chance upon, and that he will not by any means go forward, you shall then lead him to some strait wall, and there mounting his back, offer to put him forward, which if he refuse to do, you shall yourself 〈◊〉 still without offer of correction, and make some standers by with long poles beat him about the thighs ●d legs, rating him with their voices without cea●g till he go forward; which assoon as he doth, let ●em leave striking, and begin you to cherish him; in ●is sort let them pursue him from one end of the wall 〈◊〉 the other seven or eight times together at the least, until such time that with the very motion or thrusting ●orward of your legs, he will freely and of his own ●ccord go forward, And if at any time during this ex●rcise, he shall cast his buttocks or hinder legs from ●he wall, you shall forthwith cause the standers by with ●heir poles to beat him about the houghs till he car●ie his body even. It may be at the first rather then he will go forward, he will run backward; but respect 〈◊〉 not, & let the standers by use still their correction, till he ●ake his way according to your own fancy: which ●one, light from his back, cherish him, and give him something to eat, and so lead him to the stable, where ●fter he hath rested two or three hours, take him out again, applying him as before: and do thus three or ●oure times a day for the space of four days at the least, and there is no doubt to be made of his reclaiming; but for the use of this in the plain field, ●or upon new ploughed ground, I hold it altogether preposterous and against Art, albe Grison agree with it; for the plain field giveth too great liberty for other as gross disorders: and for the new ploughed ground, the horses fault proceeding from weakness, and faintness of nature, that were even the way to make him grow desperate in his faintness; yet thus far I will excuse Grison, that in his days I think the use and benefit of the strait wall, was either not known, or at least not practised. Now where as some horsemen in reclaiming such horses use all violent courses, never ceasing beating and striking the horse till they force him to gallop and run even to the uttermost of all his force: this I dislike as much as the other: for whereas in these cases of restiveness a horse should have the understanding of his fault given him in the plainest manner that might be; these violences take both from the horse the apprehension of his evil, and from the man patience to deliver the cause of his evil. Other horsemen I have seen, and it was the ancient practice of old Clifford, to tie a long cord, plaited fast in the hairs to the stern of the horses tail, and when the horse refused to go forward, to have a slander by to pull at the cord with all his force, as if he would hail the horse backward, whereat the horse out of his doggedness, rather than he would be hailed back, would press forward, which as soon as he offered to do, the by-stander let go the cord, and the rider cherished the horse. But if it happen so, that none of these corrections will avail, than I would have you upon his standing still, to make a slander by take a dry wisp, & writhe it hard about a Po●le, then set it on a flame of fire, and bringing it before the face of the horse, thrust it against his buttocks, and against his cod, and there is no question to be made, but he will goeforward, and only to be feared that he will do it but with too great violence: for fire of all things is that element which a horse will not endure, you may if you please, and if his stubbornness draw you thereunto, cause some slander by to prick him in the buttock with a hot burning iron or goad: but the former corrections I think will be sufficient. Now for the horse whose restynes proceedeth from pride, and stoutness of courage, (which oft is found in Restisenesse that comes of pride and courage. sanguine and choleric complexions) you must understand, that his faults are plungings, boundings, and such fierce disorders wherefore if at any time you find him so addicted, you shall immediately put upon him the musrol, and the martingale, binding the musrol to such a straightness, that when he shall at any ●ime exceed the limits of his trench, & the due proportion of his best rain, he may forthwith feel the pinching of his musrol. And if you shall (till this error be reclaimed) take from him the use of the bit and only use the musrol, Martingale, and Trench, you shall do much better; for this is a general rule, and infallible, and I dare very well aver it upon many sufficient and experienced trials, that any horse of what nature or quality soever he be, I will keep him from all disorderly plunging or leaping with the musrol, and the martingale only, for the reason is this; if a Horseman be upon such a restive horses back, and first see that the martingale hold the horse to the orderly proportion of his rain, and then the rider hold up his head, so as by no means he may thrust it between his legs, or win it to such a looseness from the rider's hand, that he may yerk up his hinder parts at his pleasure: then of necessity it must follow, that the horses head being held at such a constancy, between the riders hand which holds upward, and the Martingale which holds downward, that there is left unto the horse no possible means or ability to disorder by plunging. Wherefore to conclude, if his restiveness consist only in disorderly plunging, there is not in all the Art of Horsemanship, a more infallible remedy then the musrol, and the martingale; Other remedies I know both Grison, La Broue, and divers other Horsemen have prescribed, which carry in them sufficient reason, but much care, more toil, and most loss of time; as for example, to ride a horse in the open field, & if whilst he is in the exercise of his lessons, you shall perceive that he prepareth himself for such disorders, that then upon such imaginations you shall begin to rate him, beat him about the head, and upon the forelegs, when it may fall out your thought may err, and then your corrections preceding his faults, may out of desperateness beget a fault the horse never thought of, so that in this your too great haste to prevent a fault, you may engender a fault. And I hold it more in excusable, when with less trouble it may be preveuted; then with the expense and loss of time, hardly reclaimed. Others use to ride with a sharp nail in their hand, with which they prick the horse continually behind upon the rump, never removing the punishment, till the horse leave his stubbornness. This sounds in mine experience very grossly, for such compunctions and tortures will even force the best and most gentlest disposed horse, to leap, plunge, and disorder, & then if a man will suffer a horse of free and stout courage, nay more, compel such a horse to plunge whilst he is able, you shall not only reclaim him from that vice, but also from all virtues, for it is the high way to kill such a horse; and of this I have good experience, for I had once under my hand a Mare, bred from an excellent race of Coursers, which out of her high pride and stomach, was naturally given to this vice of plunging, which when I perceived, and noted the manner of her leaps, which were ever exceeding high, and so round, that she would have fetched twenty or thirty together, all in the compass of her length, by means whereof she would plunge her Riders so blind, that not any man was able to sit her: myself (being then young, and somewhat idly witted) intending to try experiments, I reclaimed that Mare, only to mine own use, and for mine own Saddle, to which she was as gentle, and as orderly in all uses, as any beast whatsoever, but to all other men so devilish, and full of stubbornness, that I never saw any man whatsoever he was, that was able to keep her back, insomuch that of divers Horsemen I wan divers wagers; amongst whom, a Coachman that was a strong rough Rider, and had received of her two or three falls, whether moved with passion, or desire of conquest, I know not, but when myself was at dinner, and the whole household also, he took the Mare privately, with a great Horse Saddle on her back into a straitewald place, which was not above seven or eight yards square, and their taking her back (as he confessed) he thought she gave him above twenty falls; but he not desisting, did continue till she was able to conntinue no longer, and in the end mastered her, and made her to troth about gently: but the next morning I found the Mare dead in her Stall, which amazing me, I opened her with mine own hands, both to find the cause of her death, being so sudden, and also for other experiments, and I found that her rimme was hroken, her call clean consumed, and her heart swelled as big as five hearts, and the blood about it as black as I eat, which signs assured me the cause of her death, but by no means it would be confessed, till almost a quarter of a year after, when both grief and fury being spent, the Coachman of himself declared the manner of his trial; from whence I conclude that whosoever to a horse of right breed, courage, and complexion, will give or enforce liberty of plunging, he shall (as mine old master worthy master Story was wont to say) neither ever be good horseman, nor ever make good horse: but if the horse's frenzy and rebellious nature, be either so great, that the former rules prevail not, or the Rider's understanding so little, that out of true Art and judgement in riding, he knows not well how to reclaim him from these plungings, I would then have him to watch his horse, and for three or four nights and days by no means suffer him to sleep, or close his eyes, which he may do either by keeping candles light in the Stable, or else by some extraordinary noise or other diligence. After he is thus over watched, 〈◊〉 ●e is ready to sleep as he stands, you shall take him forth and ride him upon some new ploughed piece of ground: and if you choose your hours for this purpose, to be at such time as the nights are darkest, It is a great deal the better: and by this means only I have seen most desperate horses reclaimed, provided always that you observe in the time of your riding, to ride him with the trench, musrol, and Martingall. There be divers horses which have such evil habits of mind, and be so unrepressable in the violence of their furies, that when they cannot prevail by their plungings, either to cast their Riders, or to gain to themselves that ease which they covet, they will after they have plunged themselves weary, fall down, and in despite of all strokes, or ordinary corrections, not stir from the ground till they have gotten breath, and then rise up and plunge as before. In this case, I would have you as soon as he falleth down, (as near as you can possible) to keep yourself in the Saddle, and to lie with your horse for company: than you shall cause presently some slander by, to take a Bottle of dry straw, and lay it round about the horse, especially about and under his nose and face: then instantly to set it on fire round about him; at the sight whereof, there is no question but he will rise up, and partly out of fear, partly out of fury, take his way forward, which when he doth forget, not instantly to cherish him, nay if he but rise up only, although he do not press forward, yet forget not to cherish him. By this course only I have reclaimed divers, and seen divers reclaimed by others: forget not then so oft as he thus offendeth, but thus to torment him and I dare almost assure you, this practice will not need above twice or thrice for one horse at the most. There are another sort of horses, which having plunged, and leapt disorderly, whilst they have either breath, or strength, and not being able to leap any more, will forth with stand stone still and not stir any foot, how ever urged by the violence of any correction. Remedies for this fault I have prescribed in the beginning of this Chapter, where I speak of the baseness of the horses nature, for it proceeds but seldom of metal or good courage; yet forasmuch as every one in such cases as these, must invent for himself new remedies, where he finds old precepts fail him, for thence springs the proof of his Art: and for that there be divers practices at this day, both amongst us and strangers, for the amending of these faults, some carrying in them appearance of reason; some no similitude of sense; yet because I will not be the only peremptory judge, that am the meanest of many scholars, I will show you both theirs and mine own, and refer the use to the liking of best wisdoms. It hath been the practice of some Horsemen, when they could not make their horse go forward, to tie a shrewd Cat to a Pole, with her head and feet at liberty, and so thrusting it under the horse's belly, or between his legs, to make her scratch, bite, and claw him by the cods, and other tender parts of the body: the strange torment and violence whereof, will make any horse start, and run away. Others have taken a Hedgehog, and tying it strait by the foot under the horse's tail, the hideousness of the cry of that little beast, will make a Horse not only go forward, but also run away violently. The like will the cry of a young whelp do, and to say truth any sudden or strange noise, or any instant affright or amazement, will make a horse run away. Others have used a long piece of iron of a foot long, all full of pricks like a Heckel, which being fastened to the crupper, and hanging down by the horses buttocks, it must have a long cord made fast to the other end, which cord passing between the horses legs, must come up to the hand of the rider, so that he may at his pleasure torment or ease the horse as he list, and by this instrument, some say horses have been reclaimed. Others have used to put a cord with a running knot about the horses stones, and to take the other end of the cord into their hand, and so at their pleasures to pull it straighter, which torment being most insufferable hath made a horse to go forward violently. This practice I find allowed both for this and other purposes by La Broue, & some other horsemen, but as before I said, so I say again, that (under the reformation of their better knowledges (I neither like nor would have any man either practise this or any of the other experiments; my reason being, that they are all of that cruelty, either in outwardly tormenting the body with extraordinary pain, or inwardly appalling the mind with affright and amazement, that they do not so much good in redressing that one fault; as hurt in breeding many faults of much more worse nature. For a horse that is of good courage and metal, when he either feels any of these sudden torments, or apprehends affrights, doth not instantly go forward, for it is against his nature, but first begins to leap, plunge, kick with one leg, or offer to bite or such like motions, which when he finds not to avail he falls even out of desperation to run violently away, for when a Horse is pained and neither knows from whence it proceeds nor for what offence he is punished, he hath for himself no remedy but plunging, biting and running away, as for example: I have seen wise men (as they have been riding abroad) to make themselves sport with Fools, have made one put a nettle under the fools horses tail, but the horse hath not upon the act run away, but first fallen to plunging and leaping, and in the end if the torment have continued, he hath run away; even of the self same nature, that the nettle is, the same is the scratching of cats, the crying of hedgehogs, the howling of whelps, the pricking of irons, and the pinching of the stones, so that to conclude, it is as good the horse should stand still, as by teaching him to go, to learn him to plunge, bite, strike and run away. If then you demand of me in this Of restiveness which pro●eedes from ●olly. case, what is to be done, I answer, if you have a horse infected with this kind of restiveness of standing still, (which continually proceeds from folly) you shall first when you take his back, after you are well settled and have paused awhile, first by thrusting forth your feet hard and stiff upon your stirrups, you shall offer to put forward your horse; which motion if he will not understand, after you have done it twice or thrice every time stronger than other, you shall make a slander by, instantly take him by the head, and lead him forward ad 〈◊〉 paces and more, yourself and the slander by also cherishing him as he goes, and with putting your feet forward stiff upon your stirrups, quicken him up, and make him go cheerfully, which when he doth, the slander by may lay off his hand, and you may make him go three or four steps of his own accord, which when he hath done, immediately stop him, cherish him, and give him grass or something else to eat. In this sort I would have you to labour your horse three or four times in a day, for a week together, in all which time, I would have you to use no correction whatsoever, either of spur, rod, voice or any thing else, that your horse may by your patience and temperance, come to a perfect knowledge of your mind or intention; which he no sooner knows but out of the tractability of his own nature, he is as willing to perform as you to proffer. After you have assured your horse's knowledge so much that he knows when he shall go forward, then if either out of his churlishness or restive nature he rebel and withstand your mind, than you shall correct him with the even stroke of both your spurs, with your rod over his left shoulder, and with the threatening of your voice, all which, if they do not prevail: you shall then as before make use of the slander by who shall not only lead him, but also beat him till he perform your mind with cheerfulness, which as soon as he doth, forthwith cherish him, and give him somewhat to eat. By this lenity and gentle means, first making your● horse to know your mind, and after to understand the cause of his punishment for disobeying your mind, you shall make no doubt but he will perform all you can desire, with both fear and diligence, for it is a maxim in horsemanship, that as knowledge is the mistresses of art and obedience, so Ignorance is the root of all evil and disorder. Now albe some horsemen, & especially La Broue is of opinion, that this gentleness in restraining restive horses, is only to be used but to Colts, and such young horses, whose faults only proceed from folly, and natural weakness, for mine own part, I have found both by experience, and do approve it in natural reason; that these gentle courses which do give a horse the surest knowledge, and plainest instruction are the only assured means to bring our desires to a perfect end. Other tricks or violences being but like superficial works, which may carry a show or appearance, but never continue or work in a natural fashion: & thus much for restiveness and their several kinds. CHAP. 9 How to correct a horse that runneth away, and the cause of such evil. THis vice of running away, how ever other men are contrarily opinionated, yet for mine own part, I hold it for most undoubted truth, that it ever proceeds from ignorance, and want of discretion in the Horseman, and never from any natural defect or inclination in the horse, for it is questionless that a horse taketh no delight in running away, but rather feeleth offence and dislike; the causes which make a horse to run away be these: First, if a horse be of a short forehand, that is have a short, thick neck, and a straight chaule, if then his rider (wanting art) go about by compulsion either of civil and sharp bits, or by tormenting chains and cavezans, to make him have a better rain than nature or proportion will allow. In this case a horse being tormented above his power, and neither knowing ●he cause, nor having ability to ease his pain, he presently begins to run away, foolishly thinking to over go that which he carries away with him. Secondly if the Rider have an untemperate hand, which ever pulleth and hangeth upon the horse's mouth, never giving him ease or sweetness, the horses mouth will grow so dead and senseless, that when he shall be put to any thing contrary to his own mind, he will presently run away, having lost the tenderness of his mouth, which ever kept him in obedience lastly if the rider for every sleight offence in the horse, or to show in him more spirit and courage than he retaineth; when he would have the horse do that which neither himself nor the horse knows how to do, if he fall to spur and strike his horse in any of these cases, the horse finds no ease but by running away: If then it be your chance to light upon the reversion of any such horse, who by these former ignorances, hath got this fault of running away, you shall first put in his mouth a swoothe worn trench, and upon his head a strong musrol and a good Martingale, then taking his back, you shall ride him into some sandy or gravelly way, where you shall at the end of every ten or twenty yards, make him stop & go back, thus shall you do for a mile or two riding, during which time if he take any sudden toy, & so run away, you shall in his running let the reins of your bridle slack, them suddenly draw them up again, then ease them again, & draw them up again, and questionless by so doing 3. or 4. times together, you shall make him stay; the reason being, that his liberty gives him such a perfect feeling of the correction, in one instant feeling two contraries, (that is Ease and Pain) that even with amazement he will yield and stay. Where on the contrary part, if you shall continually as he runs pull and hang upon his head, not letting him feel any ease or liberty at all, the very want of that contrary knowledge, shall make him run away the faster. This course of reclaiming a horse by gentleness, and oft stopping and going back, I have found much to avail, and it is very well allowed of by many horsemen, especially by La Brove. But if the malice of your horse's nature be so great, that notwithstanding the former observations, the horse still continueth running away, you shall then as soon as he refuseth to yield to your hand, thrust him forth of the high way upon some deep new plowdeland, and there even force him to run till he begin of himself to yield, which when you feel, you shall then stay him, and return again to the high way. Where as you did before, you shall again troth him twenty yards, and stop him, than gallop twenty yards and stop him, and so as before continue the space of a mile, observing at every stop to make him go back two or three paces, in which space if again he offer to run away, you shall again thrust him over the deep lands as before; and do but observe this order thrice a day at the least for a week together, and there is no question but you shall reclaim him. Some will object that this course which I have prescribed, is of too great violence, and may endanger both the Horse's strength and wind, but they are deceived; for I do not give directions that you shall force your horse to run over deep lands so long as he is able to run (for that were not to hurt but to kill) but till such time as either he shall yield to your hand, or else through his own weariness fall to a flower pace in his running, which if you observe, be well assured the horse will never do himself hurt out of his own nature. Again, this manner of reclaiming a run away horse, doth neither hurt the horses mouth, or brings him to other inconveniences, which will ask as much or more labour to amend, than the fault itself. There be some Horsemen, which when they have a run away Horse, will ride him into a strait lane, & there thrust him into a swift Career, then coming to the place of the stop, if the horse do refuse, and offer to run further, than he will have some standers by with long poles to strike the horse upon the nose and face, and so compel him to stay. Others will have wisps of fire upon their Poles, and thirst them into the Horse's face, but both these ways I utterly dislike, for they breed in the Horse such a cowardliness and fearfulness, that a horse so reclaimed, will lose his native valour (which above all things should be preserved) and never after be brought either to endure the man or any warlike encounter. Again, I did once see a Gentleman go about to reclaim a run away by this means; but the standers by instead of striking the horse, strick the Rider, and knocked him beside his horses back; since when I was never much enamoured of such a practice. There be others that will tie a string about the horses stones, and then bringing it between the horses legs, fasten it about the pommell of the Saddle, and then when the horse runneth away, to draw up the string so strait, that by the cramping of his stones to force him to stop. This is allowed by some horsemen, yet I cannot but dislike it, for it is nothing but torment that maketh a horse run away, and therefore me thinks the increasing of torment should also increase the fault, and that by consequence if this practice will make a horse stop, why then spurring him will do the same, for they be punishments both of a nature, but our experience assures us no such effects issues from such practice. There be others that will have a strong cord which having one end fastened exceeding strongly to the pommell of the saddle, will then put a very strong pastern upon one of the horses hinder feet, then passing the other end of the cord thorough the pastern, bring it again to the saddle pommel; then when the horse runneth away to pull the cord up with all your strength, by which means you shall take from the horse the use of one of his hinder legs, and compel him either to stop or fall down, by use where of the horse will be brought to forsake his fault, and will stop at your pleasure. Both this practice and the other next before it, I have seen used by Prospero, & find them at this day allowed of by La Broue: for mine own part, the former I would never use neither this latter, but either my wit failed me for better invention, or when for experience sake I try the nature of every practice. But for general satisfaction, be well assured that if the first precept in this chapter be followed with good labour & diligence, it will reclaim any run away horse of how wild condition soever he be; yet some perhaps may urge unto me this doubt, that a horse which out of strength of head, and churlishness of nature, runs away, will not be turned of which hand a man pleases, but the more a man strives to turn him, the faster he will run the contrary way, and truly I do confess it, many times falls out so, which as soon as you shall perceive, you shall then use those helps & corrections, which are hereafter delivered where I speak of Horses that are harder to turn of one hand then the other; the least of which remedies will amend this fault. After you have with the smoothe-worne Trench and Martingale reclaimed your horse, you shall then put into his mouth a smooth Cannon bit, and upon his head the Cavezan of one piece, & with them ride him, and instruct him in such lessons, as either he hath not learned, or is in learning, and if you shall at anyetime find him to rest his head too heavily upon your hand (which is a testimony of his hardness of mouth) you shall then raise the bit a hole higher in his mouth, and so place it in such a place, where formerly it hath not rested, by which means you shall instantly find in him such tenderness of mouth, and lightness of head, that he will perform your will with great obedience: And for mine own part I have divers times reclaimed run away horses, with no other means but by raising the bit higher in the horse's mouth only. Now to conclude, albe there are some (which take upon them the name of Horsemen) which when they have either hard mouthed horses, or runaway jades, seek only the amendment of such by the cruelty of their bits, as by high ports with trenches, & rough rolls or buttens, or upset mouths with Trenches of unreasonnable length with burrs upon the tops of them like spur rowels, and many other such like cruelties, yet I advise all men to shun them as the only venoms and poisons of horsemanshippe, and the greatest grounds of horses running away: which the more boldly I affirm, because I have had some hard mouths, and some run aways, who having by others been brought to their faults by such cruelties, I have reclaimed and rid after with smooth Scatches; for it is cruelty which takes away sense, and lenity that gives a horse the best feeling. And thus much for horses that will run away. CHAP. 10. How to correct a horse that will rear upright, or come over with his Rider. THis fault of rearing upright, although it be naturally incident to many horses, and that oft times to those of best spirit, yet if you shall first ride your horse with the Trench and Martingale, it is almost impossible that you shall find that vice: and when the horse is of such perfitness, that he is fit to forsake the trench and Martingale, then is his experience such, that you can hardly compel a horse to such a fault: so that I conclude, amongst good Horsemen this fault is of least expectation; but forasmuch as divers men have divers methods in riding, and that ignorance & liberty may bring a horse to this fault, which all be others beget, yet you may be entreated to amend; You shall therefore when you have such a horse, observe this practice following. If when you either stop your horse, and with the help of the calves of your legs, compel him to advance before: or when you would have him to retire or go back, or in the use of any other correction he advance higher than you would have him, or advance when you would not have him, You shall first, as you draw in your bridle hand, lay your other hand upon the midst of the horses crest, and holding him down hard, restrain him for advancing, but if either his aptness in advancing, or his sullenness to adaduance be so great, that you cannot hold him down with your hand, but that he will advance whether you will or no, you shall then as he advanceth, with your rod give him a good ierte overthwart his knees, and threaten him with your voice by saying: wilt thou villain, wilt thou, or such like, and as oft as he advanceth, so often strike him, not ceasing till he keep his feet fast to the ground, neither strike him in any place but overthwart his knees only. But if the violence of his naughtiness be so great, that he not only advanceth contrary to your mind, but also in his advancing reareth upright so high, that either he cometh over backward, or else is in great danger of the same, you shall then upon the proffer of such wickedness, and even in his rising give him the liberty of his head, and with the even stroke of both your spurs together; make him leap forward. This being done in due time, & so oft as occasion is ministered, I have many times seen to reclaim a horse from this fault: but if he be so infinitely desperate that it will not prevail, you shall then cause him to be led forth into some plain piece of ground, & having a long string fastened to the rain of his bridal, you shall as he trotteth before you, force him to stop and rise up before, which if he doth any thing extraordinarily high, you shall then with the strength of your own hands pull him quite backwards, and assure yourself, after you have but given him two or three such falls, you shall never afterwards compel him to rise so high, that he will bring himself into like danger. For a horse naturally, is as much afraid of falling, and as loath to hurt himself, as any man is, wherefore when by this means he cometh to the knowledge of his evil, he will without any more warning eschew it, and this course in all my practice I have found most infallible; yet forasmuch as the use of the musrol and Martingall, is an ordinary way, to repress and keep a horse from this fault, I would wish every horseman first therefore to make use of them, and where they fail, then to make trial of those experiments which are before rehearsed. And thus much for horses that will rear and come over with their riders. CHAP. 11. How to correct a horse that will lie down in the water as he passeth thorough. OF this fault I have had great experience and find it to be most incident to horses of choleric complexions, or to such as are foaled in the dog days (which is from the midst of july, till after the midst of August) or to such horses as we call Cades, which are those that never suck their dams, but upon their first foaling are put up into a house, and brought up upon the finger. These horses have many times this fault of lying down in the water, with which if at any time you shall encounter, you shall thus seek to reclaim him. First you shall fair and softly place him through some water, not above knee deep, being hard and firm in the bottom: and if you shall find him offer to stand and draw in his hinder feet, as if he would lie down, you shall immediately give him the even stroke of both your spurs three or four times together, and make him gallop thorough the water with all violence; which done, after you have paused a while, you shall place him back again: and if he offer to lie down again, you shall (as before) make him gallop thorough again; but if after you have done thus twice or thrice together, he notwithstanding still proffereth to lie down, you shall then cause two or three footmen to follow you into the water, who assoon as he proffereth to lie down, shall suffer him; but immediately when he is down, they shall with all their strength hold him down, and duck his head under the water, holding it there a good space, then letting him take breath, duck his head again under the water, and this they shall do twice or thrice before they let him rise, all the while rating him with their voices, and striking him with their hands, but not by any means with any rods or cudgels, albe Grison commend them both; for I have seen that course bring a horse into great desperation. After you have used him thus twice or thrice with the help of footmen; there is no doubt to be made, but he will utterly refuse to lie down especially when he either seeth, or heareth the footmen follow him: you shall therefore then cause the footmen to forbear, and only yourself ride him into the water; yet before you ride into the water, you shall make fast with a strong thong of leather to each side of your Saddle-tree just under both your knees, two large and strong rings of Iron, so that nothing but the rings may appear without the panel: to these rings you must fasten two cords that are pliant, and will run and go easily. These cords you shall pass from the rings thorough the eye of the bit, trench, or snaffle, then thorough the rings again, and thorough the eye of the bit, trench, or snaffle, and then wind the remainder of the cords about the pommell of the saddle, but in any case let that which passeth from the rings to the eye of the bit, be so slack that it may give the horses head all the liberty possible, then when you come into the water, if the horse offer to lie down, you shall suffer him, and with all nimbleness you can, avoiding his back, look upon what side he lieth most and setting your foot against the saddle, pluck the cord on that side, & it will immediately, not only pluck his head under the water; but also keep him that he cannot rise, then at your pleasure you may let the cord go, and give him breath. If thus you shall but use him twice, I dare venture much of my reputation in horsemanship, he will never need it the third time. Now forasmuch as some authors give advise, to put a cord with a running knot about the horses stones, & to cramp him therewith in the water, I for mine own part utterly dislike it: for I have seen a horse so used, who through his violence and struggling in the water, hath so pinched himself, that his stones have not only swelled, but also impostumated and rotten, so that there was no remedy but to geld him, to the great blemish of the horseman, and danger of the horses life; wherefore I would advise all young riders, to approve no more, but the former practice, till such time as their own experience & Art can createthem better knowledge. If when you have in manner aforesaid reclaimed your horse from this vice, he shall after, either through the violence of nature, or the forgetfulness of the correction, begin to fall to it again; if upon the first proffer thereof you do but put him in remembrance, and quicken him up with your spurs, and rate him with your voice, you shall soon perceive he will amend and eschew it. Yet ever I would have you to keep this caution in your mind, that when you have a horse of such quality, to be very careful of him when you pass thorough any water, and rather to let your correction go before your fault, than your fault before your correction. And thus much for a horses lying down in the water. CHAP. 12. How to correct a horse that is skittish, and fearful, and findeth many Boggards. THis fault of skittishnesse, or fearfulness proceedeth from four several grounds, that is to say, either from nature, youth, custom, or imperfitnesse of sight. If it Fearfulness by nature. proceed from nature, than it is found in horses of phlegmatic and melancholy complexions, who out of their own native cowardliness will start and be afraid of every strange apprehension of the eye, and at every sudden noise or clamour which their care shall receive. To help this defect in nature, you must use all the lenity and gentle means that may be to fortify and strengthen his valour; so that when he shall find any affright, as either at windmills, blocks, stones, noise of drums, trumpets, or such like, you shall not at his first starting either with spur, rod or threatening voice, compel him to approach to the thing which he feareth, but with gentle words and encouragements, first make him stand still, and a pretty space constantly to behold the thing he feareth; which done, you shall with the motion of your legs and body, by little and little bring him nearer a●d nearer to the thing he feareth, which if he do with great unwillingness (if he be a horse that knoweth what correction is) you shall then quicken him up and make him approach to the thing he feareth, by giving him now & then the even stroke of both your spurs. Assoon as you have brought him to the thing he fears, you shall then make him stand by it, and smell unto it, yourself all the while cherishing him, than you shall make him trot about it, and cherishing him, make him again smell unto it. But if it be a man who either through the strangeness of his apparel, or the carriage of some burden the horse fears; than you shall entreat the man to stand still till you bring your horse unto him, who assoon as your horse approacheth him, let him first cherish your horse, then stroke him, & if there be any grass, let him give the horse some to eat, and by this means he will be so emboldened, that he will not after be any thing so ready to apprehend like amazement. If it be any sound or noise which he feareth, you shall then acqaint him with those sounds by little and little, as first in a low and scarse-heard sound, after by degrees, increasing the noise, till it come to the uttermost loudness. You shall also let him see and smell both the thing which soundeth, and him that sounds, and by these uses and acquaintances, you shall both deprive him of fear, and create in him a constant valour, observing always, neither to do nor suffer to be done unto him any thing suddenly or with violence, but after a most temperate and modest fashion. If the horses fearfulness proceed from his youth and youngness, you shall then cause an old ridden horse (in whose valour you are assured) to be ridden for Fearfulness by youth. a week or a fortnight continually before your colt, who may lead him through waters, thwart dark cross ways, and up and down the streets of market Towns, where he may see and hear all manner of noises, as the fire of Smiths shops, the knocking, and beating of Armourers, Puterers, Cooper's, Tinkers and such like, with the passing too and fro of all sorts of people, by which use and acquaintance you shall soon find him so valiant, that he will not start for any terror whatsoever. But if his fearfulness proceed from custom (which is, that having been formerly scared, either with some undiscreet Fearfulness by custom. & foolish sights, or with some strange noises presented to the horse, with amazement, whence ever after he feareth, the same sights & noises) you shall first in the Stable, after a gentle and familiar fashion, present the same sights & noises unto him, suffering them not all the day to be from before his eyes, till with the acquaintance thereof, you see he neither respects or fears them; which done, you shall then take his back, & riding him into the fields, cause those affrights which he most fears to be presented unto him, either by the corner of some turning lane, under some hedge, or in such a covert place, as the horse may not perceive them, till he be close upon them; at which if he chance to start, you shall first stay till he have thoroughly looked upon his fear, then forcing him with your body, and sometime with your rod and Spur, make him approach & touch that which he feared, then cherishing him, & trotting him about it, acquaint him but in this manner, three or four days together, and his fearfulness will soon forsake him. If his fearfulness spring from his want of perfi● Fearful by 〈◊〉 ●ight. sight, which is of all fears the most incurable: you have but only two helps to reform it; the first when he apprehends any fear to stay him, and make him with better consideration behold the thing he fears, then to bring him by the help of your rod and spur a little nearer his fear, and then let him gaze at it again, then somewhat nearer, & stay again, & thus by degrees bring him so near that his own sight may distinguish what he fears, which as soon as he beholds and knows what he sees, you shall see him without compulsion press to the thing he formerly feared, & without any amazement, both touch & smell to that he feared to come near. Your second help is, to have a vigilant and careful eye to his countenance, as he traveleth, and when you shall perceive him to prick both his ears directly forward, and so hold them any long space together, or if you shall hear him snore or crack in his nose, or raise up his head to a more extraordinary height then usually he doth carry it; upon any of these motions; you shall be assured that the Horse apprehendeth some amazement, whereupon you shall instantly draw him to a slowerpace, and with all the encouragement you can give him, bring him leisurely to that he fears and if the horse of himself offer to stay, you shall then both with your spurs, and a jert with your rod, compel him to go forward, yet but very slowly, least taking any affright in the swiftness of his pace, he by flying out of the way, do not only endanger to hurt himself by some sudden strain or slip, but also to cast or mischief his rider. Now that you may know the true Carractars' of these fears, and judge in your riding which horse is infected with which fear, you shall hold these observations. First when you make an old ridden horse lead you the way where there be many Scars and Boggards, if when the old horse taketh no affright, but passeth quietly on, the following horse taketh Scars almost at every thing he hears & seees, both his eyes and ears being the ministers of his fear; when this you note, be assured that horses fear proceeds from the cowardliness of his nature and complexion: if he follow the old horse stoutly without any fear, and only when he is alone, apprehendeth all manner of fears, then be assured all his fearfulness proceeds only from his youth and ignorance in those strange sights and noises which he sees and hears; but if he pass stoutly by many strange sights and stranger noises, only at some particular sights and noises (peradventure less fearful than those he stoutly endureth) he find Scars and affrights, then assure yourself that his error comes from custom, and that he hath in former times been affrighted with those things which then he feareth. If he only take affright at what he sees, and not at what he hears, starting at shows, but not at noises, than you shall assure yourself, that all his fears proceed only from the imperfectness of his sight, and from no other cause. But for as much as some horses may have more Of great noises. than one, nay all these imperfections, as both being naturally fearfully, young, formerly scared, and imperfect of sight, I would wish all horsemen to have in their stables, both Drums and Trumpets, which beating and sounding continually in the horses ears, will embolden them, and make them hardy against all sounds whatsoever; yet you must not at the first let such sounds be hard in their full loudness, but making your Drum first beat very softly, after increase the loudness, as the horse increases in boldness, till in the end you may beat the Drum to his uttermost height. And likewise for your Trumpet, you shall at first make it sound very low, by stopping the great end, either with a Clarin, or with a Glove, or such like, till the horse be acquainted therewithal, and then you shall cause the Trumpet to sound as loud and shrill as is possible. It is good also when your horse stands in the stable, to fasten to the headstall of his collar, in stead of reins, two long Chains of iron made with round long writhen links, which running to and fro through the Manger, may make a jingling and noise when the horse moveth; you shall also Of enduring armour, staff, or sword. sometime when you ride your horse, cause his head and neck to be armed with a Shaferne and other pieces belonging to a horse: and as you ride ever to be rapping upon the armour with the great end of your rod, that you may acquaint him with the noise thereof; you shall also at sometimes when the groom dresseth your horse, cause him to be armed at all pieces above the waste, only his face bare: and being so accoutered, to rub and dress him, which when the horse endureth with patience, than the groom shall put upon his head a close cask, and with it covering his face, go to the horse, and standing directly before his face, rub the horses head and neck all over; which done, he shall give him bread, oats, or other provender. When he is thus emboldened, you shall arm yourself at all pieces above the waste, and then taking his back, you shall receive into your hand a small long Pole, no bigger than a Hawks Pole, and carrying it upon your thigh like a Lance, you shall ride him into some convenient piece of ground, and first upon his trot, charge it betwixt both his ears; then on the one side of his head, then on the other, so as he may see it as it is charged on each side of his face, than you shall do the like upon his gallop; And lastly, as he galloppeth, you shall clap the Pole overthwart your breast under your arm, and so break it, that your horse may hear the noise thereof. After you have practised this a good space, and that he shows all liveliness and spirit in the action, you shall then cause another man also to arm himself, and being mounted upon some old ridden horse, well used to such practice, he shall also take another such like Pole, and being come into the field, he shall place himself threescore or fourscore yards from you, and directly opposite against you; then shall you trot one against the other, yet in paths so different, that you may pass by each other without touching, or rushing one upon another: and when you come within twice the length of your Poles one of another, you shall charge your Poles one against another, but not touching one the other with your Poles, you shall pass by each other. After you have thus done five or six times together upon a swift trot; you shall then do the same upon an easy gallop: and at the last, as you come directly one by the other, you shall each of yond break your Poles under your arms, so that your horses may hear the noise or crash, which done, you shall alight, cherish your horse, give him either grass, bread, or some thing else to eat, and so set him up in the Stable for that time. When your horse is thus perfit in the use of armour and staff, you shall then in the stable draw a bright sword, before your horse's face: and first making him smell to it, you shall then rub him about the head, face, and neck with it; then putting a Shaferne upon the horse's head, you shall softly and in gentle manner rap him with the sword upon the Shaferne, and upon those pieces which are upon his neck, which when he patiently endureth, you shall then with your sword in your-right hand, mount upon his back, and all the way as you trot to the riding place, you shall brandish the sword about your horse's face, so as he may see the sword, and now and then with the pommel thereof, knock upon the horses shaferne: when you come to the riding place, you shall there have an Image made like a man, and armed at all pieces, from head to foot: To this Image you shall trot; and first making your horse smell thereto, you shall then trot about it, and ever as you pace or trot about it, you shall strike upon it with your sword, making the armour sound and ring in the horses ears, yourself ever cherishing and encouraging your horse in all his exercises. This done, you shall cause an other armed man to mount upon an old ridden horse, who coming fair and lostlye towards you; as soon as you join knee to knee you shall with each of your sword rap softly upon each others armour, and sometimes softly upon your horses Shafferns, and other armed pieces: than you shall cause the other horseman to retire back from you, whom you must pursue, striking softly, sometimes at the horse, sometimes upon the man: in the end you shall make him turn his back upon you, and offer to trot away, but you shall follow him, and strike him softly upon the hinder parts: which done, you shall alight from your horses back, cherish him, and give him something to ear, and so set him up. After your horse is perfide in these encouragements, you shall then begin to acquaint him with fire and gun-shot Of fire and gun-shot. after this manner. When he standeth in the stable with his head from the Manger, you shall take Rosen beaten to fine powder, & lay a good deal in the palm of your hand; than you shall take a little piece of a wax candle, and setting it between your great finger and your Ring finger, you shall throw the powder thorough the blaze of the Candle, and it will raise up a great flame, which being done, directly before the face of the horse, may at first move amazement in him: But being done five or six times together, the Horse finding neither annoyance by the flame, nor mislike in the smell; he will be careless and seem to delight in the sight, which as soon as you perceive, than you shall instead of the resin take half a thimble full of Gunpowder & laying it in the palm of your hand, do as you did with the resin. This is only to acquaint the horse with the smell of gunpowder, which being done, you shall then take a pistol which goes with a Snaphance, and putting powder only in the pan, and no where else, you shall s●ute it off before the horses face half a dozen times together, that he may be acquainted with the suddenness of that little noise, This done you shall then charge the pistol, and first shuting it off a pre●ie distance from your horse, you shall after discharge it nearer and nearer, till in the end he will suffer you to discharge it close under his nose, which done, you shall then take his back and ride him into the open fields, where you shall cause some footman, having charged a ha●quebushe with powder to meet you, and discharge it a pretty distance from you, yet just before the horses face. Then as soon as he hath discharged the piece, let him come to the horse, and give him either bread or other provender to eat, then let him charge the piece again, and discharge it somewhat nearer than he did before, and every time he dischargeth the piece, let him come and cherish the horse, and give him something to eat, till there be such a familiarity betwixt him and the horse, that even the horse will take a pride and delight in his shooting, which so soon as you perceive, you shall use him to the noise of shot, both in his trotting and galloping, making him charge the footman home, and to gallop abou● him, the Footman ever observing to discharge his piece in the face of the horse; when your horse is thus made perfect for the endurance of the shot, you shall then when you ride him, abroad, make some slander by to flourish an ensign before him, and then coming towards the horse, set the ensign so as the wind may blow the silk about the horses face, the ensign bearer all the while with his hand cherishing and fortifying the horse to endure the rattling and waveing of the silk about his ears, which when constantly he doth, than he shall take up the ensign, and flourish it both about the horse and yourself, then setting the staff down cherish the horse again, and give him somewhat to eat; you shall also encourage your horse very much▪ both to this and many other such like strange sights, if as you ride you do but rattle papers about your horses ears, or any other stuff, which maketh the loudest noise. And thus much for the correction of affrights, and fearfulness. CHAP. 13. How to correct a horse that is dull of spirit, dull of the spurs, and slovenly in his trot. SO soon as you have tamed your Colt, & made him that he will receive with patience both the Saddle, bridle, and their ornaments, and the Rider & his postures, and that he will only walk forward (as not knowing any other lesson) you shall then enter into judgement of his nature and condition, which you may discern in his first backing by these characters. If you find him light of head, so that he will carry it by his own support, and not by the assistance of your hand, and that the tenderness of his mouth disdaineth the touch or feeling of the Trench, if he be more willing to trot then to walk, to gallopp then to troth, or more willing to bond and leap, then either walk, trot or gallop, if you find that the quick motion of your body, the stirring of your leg, or the sound of your voice, are as great motives, as either spur or rod; if this you find, you shall conclude in your judgement that he is a horse of good constitution of body, light, tractable, valiant and of the worthiest disposition, so that you are by your own lenity and temperate a●te, only to seek to moderate and keep such good spirit in his height of goodness by repressing it, till age and strength shall afford better ability, and without further strife or toil proceed to those lessons which are fit for a horse of his courage, which are the large rings and other lessons of such like quality. But if you find your Colt (at first backing) to be of a contrary nature, that is to say, of heavy head and countenance, such as your strength shall sooner be weary to lift up, than he to over burden; and of a spirit so flemye or melancholy, that he will rather refuse to do, then want power to do, the sullenness of his nature being a traitor both to art and his beauty; you shall then (having backed him, and taught him to go forward, according to the rules prescribed in the third Chapter) ride him forth either into some open hard high way, or into some plain field where he may have no treading but such as is light and easy: and carrying your hands upon the reins of the trench, as is taught in the third chapter: You shall all the way as he goes, with gentle motions easing your hands and drawing them softly in again by little and little work up his head to the full length of his neck, not at any time suffering your hands to abide firm without motion; But letting them go & come continual with easy, soft, and undisturbing movings: such as with their greatest straightness may not give him any check in the mouth to make him stop: not with their largest liberty (were he a horse of frank spirit) give him leave to run away. This coming and going of your hand will force the dullest horse in the world to raise up his head of his own accord, it sweetens and makes tender his mouth, and makes him pliant to a good rain and countenance. To this motion of your hands, you must add also the motion of your legs by thrusting them earnestly forward with a good stiff jerte upon your stirrup leathers, and your body likewise by moving forward to accompany the motion of your legs, yet this moving of your legs must not be used above once or twice in ten or twleve paces going, but when you do use it, you must do it violently, for believe it (as an infallible rule in horsemanship) there is not any motion or torment whatsoever, which stirreth more spirit or alacrity in a horse, than this moving forward of your legs only, as you shall find by proof whensoever you please to try it upon a horse that is most shamefully tired. To this forward motion of your legs, you shall now and then add (according as you find the dullness of your horse) a good jert with your rod in his flank, and under his belly (for spur as yet you must not by any means use.) In this sort, and with these helps, you shall ride your horse forward in a slow trot, above six or seven score-yardes, and there stop him by drawing your hand somewhat hard & firm to the pommel of your saddle, and after a little pause, you shall make him go back or retire two or three paces, by drawing your hands to you and easing them again half a dozen times together, even in the self same sort as you did when he went forward, but that it must be a little more firm and hard, yet not so hard as shall strive to compel, but as it were work with a mild entreaty. If your horse shall refuse to retire at these motions, you shall not much respect it, but thrust him forward again as far further, and there do the like, and in this sort upon an easy trot, you shall ride him forthright aquarter of a mile, and then taking a large compass about (of at least forty of fifty paces) turn him homeward, and so rid him back to the stable, not forgetting but both in going forth and coming home, to make him stop & retire at the end of every six or seavenscore yards. It may be the first morning you ride him, what through the dullness of his spirit, and slothfulness of his nature, you shall neither make him troth with pleasure, stop with willingness, nor go back with any art you can use, but let not that discourage you, but in the afternoon do the like again, by no means using any violence more than the former motions prescribed: nor exceeding the limits of a quarter of a mile; also it may be the second time he will be as little tractable as at the first, yet regard it not, but as you did at morning and noon, do the same again, & after the same manner at the closing up of the evening, at which time if you find him as perversse and as rebellious as in the other two former times, you shall (as before you did) with all patience bring him home, and having dressed him, and given him meat for all night, you shall before you go to bed, come into the Stable, and taking a well dried bulls pizzle, nailed & made fast to a long staff; first cause your horse to turn his foreparts and buttocks from one side of the stall wherein he standeth to the other which he doing at the first slovenly, and unnimbly, you shall take occasion thereupon, and with your bulls pizzle, beat him about the buttocks, houghs & sides so sound, that you may make his flesh sore, not by any means leaving to beat him till you see him even with a spirit futye and an active nimbleness, pass & repass in his stall with the sound of your voice only: which done, let him rest for that night, & the next morning as you did before, so take him out, & ride him forth right (with those helps & encouragements before taught) at the least half a mile & more only instead of your rod you shall ride with a dried bulls pizzle, the correction whereof you shall mingle with your former helps, whose sharpness & torment exceeding much the sharpness of the rod, will so quicken your horse up (especially through the soreness of his flesh, by his former beating) that you shall feel him to troth much lighter than before, & to shoe much more tractability & obedience, You shall (as before you did) this day, at the end of every 6. or 7. score yards, make him stop and retire, observing this rule, that if he do not retire upon the first motion of your hand, not to make any stay at all, but forthwith to thrust him forward again, both with the violence of your body, help of your legs, & a good stroke with the bulls pizel, giving him no ease nor respite till he either shoe obedience to your will, or some likely token of obedience; which as soon as you apprehend, you shall instantly cherish him, and give him somewhat to eat, then try him again the second time, & if then he show more obedience than before, you shall then cherish him, light from his back and walk him up and down awhile in your hand; then taking his back again, trot him fairly homeward & as you did this morning, so shall you do in all points again in the afternoon, only you shall increase the swiftness of his trot: and as you did in the after noon you shall so do again at the closing of the evening, ever increasing the swiftness of his trot more and more, till you have brought him that he will with the motion of your body, raise up his spirits, & troth both freely & cheerfully: the third day you shall likewise take him forth, and then you shall troth him out right a mile & more, observing still to make him stop, & retire ever at the end of six or seaveenscore yards, till he be brought to such perfectness and true knowledge of your mind, that with the least motion of your hand, he will retire either as speedily as you will, or as far as you will, & in the swiftness of his retiring, you must observe to give him that leisure, that he may take up his feet one after the other, & not by over much haste take them up so preposterously that he be in danger of overthrowing himself, for that were as the proverb is, more haste the worst speed, but by taking them up leisurely, and in order, he will come to that perfitness that he will even troth backward, with as comely beauty as many horses do forward. Which is both exceeding gallant to the eye, and exceeding profitable in service, showing high art in the horseman, and much obedience in the horse. This third day also to the other helps and corrections, you shall add the help of your spurs, mingling with the help of your rod or bulls pizzle, now and then the even stroke of both your spurs, the sharpness whereof will take from your horse the melanchollye thoughts and faintness, which are the only grounds of all his dullness, and make him not only more mindful of his labour and lessons, but also inspire him with much better spirit and cheerfulness, for as to horses of great metal and courageousness, all torture, extremity, & provocation is to be avoided, so to these melanchollye and dull jades, there is nothing to be done without violence quickness, suddenness of voice, and help of correction; provided always that such motions be ever attended on with such temperateness, that by no means they draw the horse either into amazement or desperation; but that he may know that all his punishment doth proceed from his own sloth and disobedience. And allbe I do to the reclaiming of this dullness, prescribe you but only three days labours, yet you must understand, that if every one of these days works ask you a weeks work, you must not think much, or hold your time misemployed. For mine own part I have been myself three months in bringing a horse to spirit and lightness, and in the end thought it the best part of my labour. After your horse will trot forward freely, & with good courage, stop and retire at your pleasure, You shall then for a week or ten days, onelie● exercise him in trotting forward or round about some great heath, plain, or green fi●lde; first a mile, than two mile, after three mile, not stopping him above once in a mile, or a mile and a half, & by this exercise, & continual labour, at lest once in a day, or not above twice at the most, you shall bring him to such lightness of head, nimbleness of foot, and sense of correction, that nothing you shall put him to (as long as you keep yourself within the limits of reason) will be either troublesome to you or laboursome to the horse. Some there are, as namely Grison and his Scholars, who to the reclaiming of a horse subject to this dullness & slothfulness of spirit, would have you ride him upon new plowde lands; reasoning thus: that the deepness of the lands will make him pluck up his feet, bestir himself with more labour, and so consequently bring him to more quickness and sharpness of spirit. But (under the reformation of his more ancient knowledge) I am of a clean contrary opinion, and so is also La Broue, who absolutely holds deep lands, & rough ways, the worst means to bring a horse to spirit or lightness, for if dullness proceed from the coldness and weakness of nature, engendering faintness and floath, then must that which bringeth forth toil and labour, without any ease or relish of pleasure, not only increase that faintness, but bring it to the very height of all cowardice, as thus for example: a Horse that▪ slothful & dull, in so much that you shall hardly force him to go upon the pain & smoothest ground; think you he will trot in deep lands, where stepping every foot in earth above the pastern, & sometimes wherewith his best force, hardly drawing his legs after him, shall feel nothing but toil beyond his strength? no it is most impossible, but forth with he grows desperate, and where before upon the plain ground he would have gone a little by this oversore use, he will neither upon plain nor deep ground go at all; and from hence many times springeth the grounds of restiveness, tiring & baseness of courage: yet I do not somuch dislike the use of the new plowde ground, that I utterly prohibit it, but as I discommend it for these faint & dull horses, so I commend it for such horses as are of too ficrie metal, who out of the pride of their courage will observe no temper in their going, but one while trotting, another while prancing, and another while offering to gallop, they both disorder themselves, and trouble their rider; for these double minded jades, whose fantastical lightness & incertain spirits transports them beyond all compass of moderation, there is nothing better than the new ploughed lands, which with the labour & toil whereunto they will put a horse, they easily correct his madness, & makes him with carefulness & diligence attend to his labour, & the will of his rider. Now if your horse have metal, courage & strength enough only out of his stubbornness of nature, will not show it, you shall then not only ride him in deep grounds, but also provide that those grounds be ascending, and mountainous, by labour whereupon, he shall be compelled ●o take up his feet more roundly and with greater strength then on the level earth, and be forced to more use of his strength then on the other grounds; which when at any time he shall slack, & for such slackness feel correction, he will forthwith thrust out the best of his powers, nothing being more contrary to his nature & courage, than the endurance of torment. When you have by the method before taught, brought your horse to a quickness & lightness of spirit, that he will troth freely under you, answer to the motion of your body, & yield with obedience to the commandment of your hand, yet when you sput him, you find him no more to be moved with the sharpness of that correction, them with the ease of the other helps, as if he had no more feel of your spur then of the calf of your leg, or the jert of your stirrup leather: when this you find, you must conclude that your horse is dull upon the spur, & if you let him pass with that fault unreformed, then when other helps shall fail you, there shall be nothing left, whereby either to bring grace or quickness to your horses lessons, or to show by the testimony of his obedience, by what art and rule you hold him pliant to your commandment. When therefore your horse is dull upon the spur, you shall at first forbear to spur him for any sleight fault or omission, but rather use the correction of your voice or rod, but when he shall fall into any gross error (especially such an error whereof he hath had fore knowledge; than you shall spur him sound that is, you shall give him half a dozen strokes together, as near as you can all in one place, & that close behind the hind most garthe, making every stroke at the least to draw blood, which done & the fault amended, you shall then cherish him, and by no means spur 〈◊〉 again, till you have the like occasion, which once offered, do as you did before: & thus I would have you do three or four times in a morning, observing not by any means to give that stroke, which shall not fetch blood, nor to spur him for any fault at all, but such as shall deserve and have at least half a dozen strokes together. Your horse being thus well spurred & blood drawn upon both his sides, as soon as you bring him into the Stable, cause the Groom to bathe both his sides with old piss and salt, rubbing the same into the sore place so violently, that it may search into the very bottom of the pricks. This medicine will keep the sore place either from rotting or rankling, yet notwithstanding it will keep the sore place so tender and sore, that the least touch of your heel will bring him as great torment as before the greatest stroke with your spur did. After your horse hath been thus dressed, you sh●ll the next day following take him forth again, and as you did before, so in all points you shall do again, spurring him seldom, yet sound, and as near as you can in the sore place, and no where else. This practice being used but three or four days together, you shall find your horse so tender and sore upon his sides, that the least offer or touch with your spur will move him as much as the greatest stroke you can give him: which when you have brought to pass, you shall then with all carefulness forbear to spur him for any fault whatsoever, where there is any other help or correction that will avail, for it is a most certain rule that there is nothing which sooner brings a horse to be dull upon the spurs, than often spurring him, or when you spur, eeyther to strike your heel false, so that the spur doth but glance upon his sides, and gives him a taste, but not a perfit feeling of the pricks, which we call tickling a horse with the spurs, or else to hold the rowels of your spurs in your horses sides still, after you have stricken him therewith, as for the most part, Lawyers, Merchants and Scholars do: for these manner of compunctions, and disorderly torments, do not only make a horse dull and careless of the spur, but also so faint hearted, that a horse will even tyre outright when he is in his best strength and lustiness. Whence it comes to pass (& I have often approved it upon the high way) that when a horse hath been to all men's seem so extremely tired with an ignorant rider, that he would go no further: a horseman lighting upon the same horse, hath made him go with as good courage and metal as any horse in the company, his help being nothing else but the forbearance of the spur, and the use of the other more moderate helps and corrections: wherefore I conclude, that to bring your horse to a quickness upon the spur, is to spur seldom, but when you spur, to spur most surely, and not to spur at all but upon great occasion, and that your horse have a perfit knowledge ever of the offence for which he is spurred. When you have thus taken from your horse the dullness Of foul trotting. of his spirit, & the dullness of the spur, you shall then considerately look how he carrieth his body, and demeaneth his legs, that is whether he trot clean, gallantly, and with a good & grace countenance, for so to trot is the first lesson or motion that a horse must learn; but if you find that he trotteth slovenly, and foul, that is, he either taketh not up his feet roundly and loftily; or he waveth or rolleth as he goes, or taketh too wide strides, or else fetting down his feet uncertainly doth often stumble and snapper; if any of these faults you find, you shall thus correct it. First if he take not up his feet loftily and roundly, if he be a horse of young years, or of faint nature, you shall then only trot him up and down in some hard ground, which is full of Thistles, or short pricking gorsse, or Whinnes, as I declared in the former chapter of overreaching: but if he be a horse of better age, and fiercer courage, so that when you troth him amongst the sharp pricks, he will fall to bound or leap over them, than you shall only exercise him a week or more, overthwart a new ploughed field: and when he begins to grow slow thereupon, than you shall bring him to the hard Thistlie earth, where the ground being more firm, he will then take more delight to troth thereupon: this practice, when the labour of your hand, and other helps fails you, will never fail you. But if he wave or roll in his going, or take too long strides, and that you find the restraint of your hand will not restrain the liberty of his feet (as before I told you in the chapter of overreaching) you shall troth him forthright in some furrow digged full of little overthwart gutters, one within less than a foot of another. Now whereas in that former chapter I bid you dig your large rings full of such little gutters, you must there understand, I speak of such horses as at the first, trot fair and comely: but by exercise of their lessons, and by compulsion to troth swiftly, take to themselves the liberty of long strides, overreaching, and foul trotting. But here I speak of such horses who naturally troth long and foul, before either they come to know the weight of the man, or the use of any thing or other lesson; insomuch that these gutters & degrees must be made in some strait sorrow, wherein as he learns to go, so he may learn to forget his fault. But if it happen as necessarily it must, that by this practice he learn to troth short and clean, yet notwithstanding he still waveth and rolleth in his pace, you shall then only for a week or ten days, troth him along by a strait wall (the use and benefit of which wall is more largely described in a Chapter following) and you shall not make any doubt but that error will be sufficiently amended. Now lastly, if by the incertainty of his treading, he be much subject to snapper and stumble, you shall then if he be young and weak spirited, at such time as the nights are darkest, when neither yourself nor the horse can discern either the way before or under you, ride him forth into some plain grass field which in times past hath been errable, & still retaineth high ridges, and deep sorrows; and there exercise him for an hour or two overthwart and cross those leas or ridges, first upon an ordinary rack, or footpace, then upon a slow trot, & after as he grows cunning upon a swift trot, which sometimes may be mingled with 2, or 3. strokes of a gallop: thus exercising him seven or eight nights, you shall make no doubt of his amendment. You may also, if you please, when you have your horse skilful upon this kind of ground, ride him upon some plain or level earth, as either Heath or Moor, which beingful of miry Ruttes, or Gutters, the Horse by lighling unawares into them, will grow so carefully fearful, that he will take up his feet so roundly, and set them down so surely that he will seldom or never stumble. If your horse be of great courage, and full strength, it shall not be amiss after you have exercised him, and made him by night perfit upon these two forenamed grounds, if then for two or three nights you troth him swiftly over a new ploughed field, which will both make him take up his feet, and also a certain his pace most sufficiently; I have seen some horsemen, that to help this fault, have ridden their horses hoodwinked; but for mine own part I much disallow it. For besides that the depriving of the sight taketh away from the horse both hope and delight, it also stirreth in him that amazement and excess of fear, which many times robbeth him both of remembrance and attention to the business about which he goeth: beside, the blind-folding of him is such an actual and gross correction, that what fault soever is by it reform, the liberty of the sight again, brings with it such delight, and contentment, that the former reformation is quite forgotten, and he remains the same horse he was before, both in disorder and faultiness. Many other devices and compulsions there be to amend these errors, albe it be but for a short time, which forasmuch as they have only been brought forth by covetousness, practised by craft, and credited by ignorance and folly, I will banish them this place, where nothing but Art should have lustre; and refer them to the mystery of Horse-cosing, wherein I will set them down in their true colours, And thus much for the dullness of spirit, sense, or pace. CHAP. 14. Of the treading of the large rings, and of their use. AFter your horse will with obedience & patience receive you, and deliver you both too & from his back, when he will with good courage, sensible spirit, comely light rain, and gallant pace troth forward with you; which as it is the first lesson or A. B. C. of horsemanshippe, so it is to be regarded, and looked into with most vigilant watchfulness, because what sleight fault or omission you shall escape in that time of beginning, will so strongly increase in his other lessons, that in the end they will prove incurable: when as I say you have brought him to this first goodness, you shall then proceed to the large rings, after this manner. You shall troth your horse forth into some broad gravelly or sandy way, where the print of your horses feet may the best be seen, which having breadth enough for the largeness of your rings, you shall first having trotted forward 50. or 60 paces, place out a large ring upon your right hand, at least forty paces in compass, and having paced it three or four times about, so that your eye may well discern the compass of your ring, which if it carry not the proportion of a true round, then be assured there is a fault in the carriage of your hand, which after you must endeavour to amend. You shall then troth him strait forward forty yards, or three about, and then make out an other ring (of the same largeness & compass upon your left hand) by trotting it about three or four times also, so that both your rin● being joined together by the furrow which passes b●weene them, they will carry this figure or proportion. When thus you have marked out both your rings, you shall then instantly enter into consideration, upon which hand your horse with the most willingness, nimbleness, and best grace, covetteth to trot, and on the contrary hand, on which he is only unwilling, you shall labour him at the least three or four turns more than on the other, making both your begginning and your ending, on that hand on which he is most imperfect; as thus for example, if your horse (as for the most part all horses are,) be more unwilling to trot upon your right hand then on the left, you shall then troth three or four times about upon your right hand again, so that beginning and ending upon your right hand, that hand may exceed the other by so many turns as you made in your first beginning, which done, you shall then trot him down the strait fur●owe to the verge of the left ring, and thereby moderately drawing in your hand, cause him to stop, which done, after a little pause, you shall make him retire three or four paces, and then cherishing him, let him rest a good space, then gently putting him forward again, walk him so softly as foot can fall about the left ring, ●hen down the strait furrow to the right ring where you may begin the lesson again as before. Now as I speak of the right hand, so I mean likewise of the left hand▪ if he be either harder or less nimble thereupon. In this sort I would have you exercise your horse daily, till he be so perfect, that even of himself he will troth these large rings with such courage, lightness, art and nimbleness, that he will neither stand in need of help or correction, which when you perceive, you then shall troth him a dozen or fourteen times upon that hand of which he is hardest, then as oft on the other hand, then as oft upon the first hand again, then forthright, then stop, retire, & cherish. During the exercise of these large rings, you shall diligently keep these observations: first you shall be careful with the gentle motions of your hands, to keep his mouth in sweetness and tenderness, neither pulling so hard at the trench, as to make the horse gape, nor giving his head such liberty, as to bring him to a loose rain, but to make him troth with all pride and comeliness of countenance. Next you must observe that his head and neck stand straight, looking directly forward, & not a wry or inward to that hand of which he trotteth; for surety whereof you shall ever carry the outmost rain ever a listraiter than the inmost, holding it of the two, more tolerable that the horse carry his head rather from his ring, then inward towards his ring; for the f●rst will show him firm and all of one piece, which is the greatest beauty and glory of a horse; the latter shows him weak necked, crooked, and apt for disorder; the bringing of his head into the ring, being the first means that casts his hinder parts out of the ring. Next you shall observe, that of what hand soever you trot your horse, you shall for a help in his beginning use the calf of your contrary leg, or the thrusting forward of your contrary foot, and contrary stirrup leather, or your rod upon the horses contrary shoulder, or else before the eye of the horse on the contrary side: as for example, if you trot on your right hand you shall help your horse with the calf of your left leg, with your left foot, & with your rod before his left eye, and so on the left hand with the like helps on the right side. Your voice also is both a very profitable help and a great encouragement to a horse in the treading of these rings, as namely either in his sloth, or forgetfulness, to cry via, via, or how how, with a shrill voice, & accompaining it now and then either with a lert of your rod, or the thrusting forward of your feet stiff upon your stirrup leathers. I have found it excellent good also, and it is well allowed of both by Grison and La Brove, if in the beginning of the treading of these rings (chiefly when your Colt is young and foolish) you make an old ridden horse to lead him the way, and to tread out the rings before him, for it will both give him good encouragement and also keep him from amazement & disorder; yet your horse being brought to the carriage of his head, to perfitness of his pace, and readiness of the way so that he will keep an even path, before he come to the use of these rings, this help of an old ridden horse will be a great deal the less needful. Some will wonder, and happily out of that wonder mightily condemn me, because the fashion of my rings are different from all those showed by former authors; for Grison and other writers, would have the first rings to be joined together, & then as it were from betwixt them to go the strait furrow, where they would have the horse stop and turn about in a narrow compass. These rings they would have to be trodden out upon new ploughed ground, they would have a certain number of turns to be observed of both hands, with divers other such like Cautions, to which I am clearly opposite, for first, that the rings should be joined together I dislike, because the change being so sudden, and unexpected, and a colt so Ignorant and unnimble, the suddenness thereof cannot choose but either breed disorder, or make the colt weak necked, because such quick changes, do ever compel the rider to use that rain of the inside more than in art it should be: then when he cometh at the end of the strait furrow, where he must stop, that there he should turn about in any narrower compass than the former rings, is against art, because a horse ought not to be taught any straighter compass till the larger be made perfect, Next that they should be trodden out upon new ploughed ground, that is no good general rule. For (as before I said) It is only but for such horses as out of the greatness of their courages are of such distempered humours, that they will neither go nor learn with patience, which faults being (as they ought to be) reclaimed before he be brought to the use of these rings, why after the fault is amended, the horse should endure punishment, I neither understand nor allow: wherefore for mine own part, I would have the rings made on such ground as might be most easy for the horse to tread upon, surest for soote-hold, and most pleasant for the horse to delight and continue upon. Lastly, for the certain number of turns, which they would have observed, as so many times two, or so many times three and such like, by no means either increasing, or decreasing, that I am as much against as any of the rest, for this Horsemen know, there is no creature whatsoever which doth so much observe custom, or bears in his remembrance the form and manner of things taught him, as the horse doth, so that holding him to any constant number, or any prescript form, when you shall either exceed or diminish what you have accustomably used; you put such doubtfulness in his mind, that from thence proceedeth disobedience and restiveness, wherefore for mine own part, I both have and ever shall (till I be controlled by a much better master) observed never to observe any certain number in my turns, but ever to proportion them according to the aptness, strength, and agility of my horse. But leaving to discourse upon other men's mistake, and to return to my former purpose. When your horse hath been exercised so long upon these two distinct and several rings, that he will place or troth them either slow or swiftly with all comeliness and perfectness, which commonly in a month or less you may bring to pass & that you find in his doing thereof neither error nor disobedience, you shall then begin by little & little to make him gallop those rings; as first in the swiftness of his trot to gallop two or three strokes, & then to troth again, then gallop five or six paces more, then troth again, & thus increasing by stroke and by stroke, till in the endefinding in him both a willingness & an ability, you make him gallop the wholering about, taking into your mind this maxim (which is allowed both by La Broue and others,) not by any means to let your horse gallop till he be most perfect in his trot; least by making a confusion in his paces you utterly disable him for any pace whatsoever: during the time that you thus teach your horse to gallop these rings; you shall diligently keep this observation, first not to correct him either with spur or rod for any offence he shall commit in galloping, but upon the apprehension of any fault to stay him from galloping, and to put him into his ttott again, and in his trot to correct such ordinary errors as shall happen, as the writhing of his body, bowing in of his neck inward, or the casting out of his hinder parts. Secondly, you shall observe that in his galloping he carry his head in as constant and firm a place, and his neck with as comely and graceful a rain, as when he trotteth in his greatest pride, so that if either he offer to thrust out his nose or topresse and hang his head upon your hands, you instantly stop him from galloping and make him troth again, labouring him therein till out of the pride of his courage he will gallop and keep his best beauty, which when he doth, you shall not then continue him so long therein till he be weary, and so grow in dislik of his own goodness, but after two or three strokes, performed to your contentment, you shall put him again into his trot, and cherish him. This order observed with care and diligence, you shall make your horse take more delight in galloping then trotting, & after he feels the ease which cometh by the constant carriage of his head, he will not disorder it, or bear it in other place, albe an ignorant rider should thereto compel him. Lastly you shall observe in his galloping, that he take up his legs roundly and loftily one after another, that forelegge which is outmost, going ever as it were before the other, and his hinher legs following the forelegs one after another, both closely & roundly trogether, the beating of his hooves going so distinctly one after another, that they make as it were a kind of music in their sounding. To these observations you must accompany the help of your body, which being as it were a fixed member with the horse, must in every motion move as he moveth without either disorder or contraritye. You shall also to quick en him in his galloping; help him now and then with the calf of your leg, or by letting him hear the noise of your rod over his head, for other helps of more violence, I do not allow. Now for as much as young horses partly out of their own willingness, partly out of a natural fear they bear unto their riders, will in these first lessons she we more aptness and strength, then either their knowledge apprehends, or their powers are able to maintain: you are therefore with great consideration to regard that you put not your horse to so much as he will of himself do, but that you ever in all his doings, (much more in his beginning) leave him in his best strength, with both an unwearied body, and an untroubled mouth; by which means you shall be assured he will day by day, both increase in his strength of teaching, and in his willingness to be taught: where being contrarily used, he will from doing a little, come in the end to just nothing, labour bringing faintness; faintness despair and desperation, absolute restiveness and rebellion. When your horse can gallop these two rings perfectly, you shall not by any means use him therewto above twice or thrice in a week at the most: and when you do gallop him, you shall not at the first gallop him above five or six times upon one hand, and as much upon the other; and after increasing as his strength shall increase, till you find him of the ability that he is able to endure it for a whole morning's work: which when you perceive, you shall then leave the use of those two several rings, and only troth out one single ring of not above thirty paces in compass, which having trotted about upon your right hand three or four times (so that you may discern the ring perfitly) you shall then by drawing your left reins little more firm: and laying it somewhat close to the horses neck, and holding your left rain no more but strait, and laying the calf of your left leg close to the horses side, draw him into the midst of the ring, making a semicircle from the verge of the ring to the centre of the same, according to the proportion of this figure. Then changing your hand (that is to say) drawing your right rain a little fyrmer, and laying it closer to your horse's neck, and keeping your left rain stiff, and laying the calf of your right leg to the horses side, you shall make another semicircle on the left hand from the centre of the ring, to the opposite verge of the other side of the ring: which two semicircles will make within the ring a perfit Roman S. according to this figure. When you have thus done, you shall trot your horse about the large ring upon your left hand, three or four times, and then in that manner and form, and with those observations before prescribed, you shall make your changes again in two other semicircles, which meeting even in the centre, will make within the large ring two complete rings or circles, according to the form of this figure. In this ring you shall exercise your horse the space of three weeks, or a month, according to his strength and aptness, making him place it, and do his changes first upon foot pace only: when he can place them perfitly, than you shall make him troth, and make his changes upon his trot, both slow and swift, and when he is perfit upon his trot, than you shall (as you did in the first rings) by degrees, and by little and little make him gallop it, and make his changes upon his gallop, observing that in his changes upon his gallop, you make him take up his forefeet a little more roundly, and loftily together then in his ordinary gallop, & that his hinder feet follow his forefeet a little closer and swifter: which you may do, if only when you begiu to straighten your reins, you either thrust your feet forward hard upon your stirrup leathers, or shake your rod over his head, that he may hear the noise thereof, or else move your body forward, which motion must be so covert and close, that all be the horse feel it, yet no by slander may perceive it. Also that his head and neck (as well in the narrow changes, as in the largeness of the ring) do keep the beauty and true proportion of a good rain, without either writhing, bending, thrusting out the nose, or striving for better liberty, any of which faults when you shall perceive, you shall instantly correct it before you proceed any further, as either by drawing he martingale a little straighter, or carrying the rain of your trench a little straighter on that side from whence it bendeth, & also by carrying a tender and sweet hand upon his mouth, which being kept in good temper, brings every other part of his body into obedience. This galloping of these large rings, is the first most constant groundwork which sweeteneth a horse's mouth, makes it tender and obedient, certain and immovable, & stirreth up life & courage, nimbleness, and lightness in a horse, with many other such like benefits. When your horse is perfect upon this ring, and will both trot and gallop it lustily, and with a good courage, you may then according as you feel his strength and ability to endure labour, increase his turns and his exercise thereupon, making it sometimes his whole morning's work, sometimes half, sometimes more, sometimes less at your pleasure: provided always that the most turns you give him at one time, before he come to a full stop or rest, be not (after he have paced the ring twice or thrice about) above six time about on each hand upon his trot, and six times on each hand upon his gallop: then stop, retire, cherish, and stand still a good space; then as before walk him foot pace about the large ring half a dozen times to get him breath, than thrust him into his trot again, & as you did before, so now again first troth him, than gallop him, then stop, retire, cherish and rest. It may be your horse by long use & continuance upon this ring (as horses naturally are subject to observe old customs) will with all perfitness, strength, and livelihood, both pace, trot, and gallop it, yet if you shall chance either upon the correction of any fault, or upon the approbation of his credulity, to put him out of that ring, and offer him another, either in another place, or after another fashion, than I say it may chance that he will not only at first out of his ignorance, strike and show unwillingness to perform your will, but also do that he doth, both with disorder and disobedience, or it may be that when the horse is come to such a perfitness of this lesson, that like a toward scoole-boy, he can as it were say it without book, he will then grow so careless and negligent of what he doth, that out of the frenzy of his spirit, and self trust in his own doings, he will exercise his lesson with such wantonness & apish toyishnesse, that he will blemish all that which in the beginning he did with best comeliness. Lastly, it may be, that out of the perverssenes of his nature (subject to rebel against every new knowledge) when you shall either alter his lesson from the form of his own understanding, or bring him to any labour more than he hath ordinarily used, he will not only disorder, but give signs of plain restiveness; any of these three errors, when you shall by your own judgement perceive in your horse (which ever for the most part are found in his galloping) you shall then without intermission thrust him out of this Ring, and trotting him upon a swift trot a dozen or twenty paces forthright, there tread out first a large Ring on the right hand, than another on the left hand, than a third on the right hand again; which three rings when they are trodden out, will carry the proportion of this figure following, the strait lines marked with this letter. A. being the mark of the even furrow, where you shall both enter in and go forth of the Rings. Upon these three rings I would have you exercise your horse first in his trot, and after in his gallop, for many days together, observing ever both to begin & end upon that hand of which you find him the harder and more unwilling to go, yet not to keep him only to these three rings, but to mingle with them the other rings before described; as thus for example, when you come first to your riding place, you may begin with the two distinct or several rings, which after he have pacd, trotted & galloped, then riding him forthright in an even furrow twenty or thirty paces, there stop, retire, cherish and rest, which done, than you may tread out these three conjoined rings, which after you have paced, trotted and galloped, you may likewise ride forth in an even furrow, & there again stop, retire, cherish and rest. After which, you may then tread out the single large ring, containing the two smaller rings, and when you have paced, trotted and galloped it, you may then ride him forth again in an even furrow, and there stop, retire, cherish & rest: when you have done all this, if notwithstanding you find this exercise not to be sufficient, but that your horse is able to endure much more, or that you find he doth not tread them with that perfitness, so that another repetition would be much available for your horse's understanding, in either of these cases you may begin again with one, two, or all of the aforesaid lessons, continuing till you have either given your horse exercise sufficient for his strength, or yourself a full contentment according to the proportion of Arte. If it so fall out that your horse in this lesson of these three conjoined rings, either amazedly stick as showing an unwillingness to the exercise; or that he be of so good a temper of mouth, and nimbleness of body, that he craves no more help of one hand, then of another, that is, if he turn of both hands with like cunning, you shall then to these three rings add a fourth ring oflike compass, which being trodden out, shall bear the fashion of this figure following; the letter, A, showing the entering in, and the going forth of the ring: and the letter B, the change or alteration of the hand, as it appeareth. After you have exercised your horse upon these four rings so long that you find in him besides a complete perfectness and skill, an extraordinary lightness, courage & delight in the lesson, you may then conclude that you have done as much in these large and plain compasses as Art desireth, so that to proceed to any other confused rings such as some authors have propounded only to amaze weak senses, & stir admiration in none but the ignorant, is both frivolous & needles; the rather sith the horse that is expert in these rings before mentioned, cannot be ignorant how to troth or gallop any ring of what shape or fashion so ever it be moulded: & for other rings than such as are to be trotted & galloped, as yet I write not of, but preserve them for their due place. The errors which most commonly pursue these large rings, are only the distemperatures of the horses head, the weakness or writhing of his neck, the casting outward of his hinder parts, & the slothful and slovenly taking up of his feet, for all which I have showed you former remedies in the foregoing chapters. For the uses & purposes wherefore these large rings serve (to speak generally as ofal rings) you must understand that the chief part or soul of this art of horsemanship is but only to make a horse turn teadilie on both hands, his best strength, beauty, and nimbleness being both redoubled, & adorned by the power of art, which no man can by any other means bring better to pass then by continually exercising a horse in these round circles, these large ones being as it were the first letters or alphabet, which makes him cunning in more curious lessons. But to speak more particularly, the first two distinct rings before showed, are but only to acquaint the horse with labour, giving him a glimpse or little light of cunning, yet in such sort that it neither distemper his mind, body, nor pace, but keep them all in concord, and albe he go round, yet he goes at as great ease, as if he went strait forward. The second ring containing two smaller rings, that teaches the horse a little more cunning, making him take up his legs more roundly & nimbly together, by means whereof when he is brought to a straighter compass, he will neither be amazed for want of knowledge, or stagger or reel for want of skill or true use of his feet, the perfectness of this ring being a good introduction to all other lessons, how curious or how intricate soever. The last rings which consist of three rings, & four rings, both bring to the horse breath and nimbleness and are of great use and service in the wars, chiefly when a man is to charge upon shot, or to be employed upon discovery, or other light service, so as he neither may stand still, neither keep on even and direct forthright line in his passages, but first to gallop upon one hand then on the other, with such incertainty that it shall be impossible for the best markman to take any constant aim against him; whereupon, as I imagine, it was termed of horsemen, the galloping of the field. And thus much for large rings and their use. CHAP. 15. Of stopping, retiring, advancing, and the uses thereof. ALthough I have in divers of the former Chapters spoken of stopping, & of the time and place most meet when to use it, yet for as much as I have not so plainly explande it as is necessary for every ignorant understanding: I will here somewhat more largely discourse of that lesson, and first that you may know what stopping is, it is a sudden staying, or distance from any motion which a horse useth with his legs, as namely when he either walketh, galloppeth, boundeth, Coruetteth or such like, and it is done by a sudden & firm setting down of all his forelegges together without any further motion. When therefore you will make your horse stop which in the first beginning of a horses lessons, would ever be done in an even furrow which goeth strait forth from your Rings, you shall when you come within three or four yards of the end of your furrow, by the lively motion of your body, and by thrusting forth your feet upon your stirrup leathers, make your horse ttott with more life and quickness, and then with a sudden, firm, and somewhat hard drawing in of both your hands just and even together, you shall make him stop. The thrusting him forth so freely immediately before the stop, being an occasion to make the horse couch his hinder loins, and to trust more to them then to his foreparts, andso stop both more comely, and more strongly: but if upon his first stopping (as it is a fault almost naturally incident to all horses) your horse as you draw in your hands, do thrust out his nose, or offer to thrust it down towards the earth, both which motions show disorder and opposition; you shall first with your hand give him a little check in the mouth; and then holding your hands constant and firm, give him no liberty of head till he stand still with obedience: but if notwithstanding he use this fault once or twice more, you shall then make some by slander to stand before him at the stop, who with the big end of a rod, shall knock him upon the nose, when he either thrusteth it forthright, or downward: but if he yield to your hand, and stand just with good constancy, then both yourself and the by slander also, shall cherish the horse exceedingly, and then give him liberty of head, easing both the Trench and Musroll. If when your horse stoppeth, he doth not stop even and just in the furrow, but thrusting his hinder parts out of the path, stoppeth crosswise or overthwart; for this fault albe Grison would not have you by any means to use either the help of your contrary leg, rod, or spurt, but only the assistance of a by slander; yet I for mine own part, am not altogether so precise, as knowing that albe a horse is but a beast, yet he hath more understanding than any other beast: wherefore if your horse have this fault of stopping crosswise, I would have you use the help of your leg, or rod in this manner: if he stop cross, that is thrusting his foreparts overthwart toward your right hand, and his hinder parts overthwart towards your left hand, you shall then by giving him a pretty sharp twitch with the left rain of your Trench, and giving him a clap with the inside of your right foot, either upon his foreshoulder, or before his foremost girth, you shall set his foreparts even in the furrow again: wi●h which reformation of his fore parts, it is very hard but he must also reform his hinder parts, because the bringing of his fore parts to the left hand ever brings his hinder parts to the right hand. But if it be so that either through his wilfulness, or want of understanding, he notwithstanding continues in his vice, than you shall make a by slander to remove his head and hinder parts into the even furrow, to whose help you shall also accompany your own former helps, that thereby he may come to a better understanding, both of your will, & to what purpose formerly you used those other helps and corrections▪ which he will no sooner perceive, but he will diligently obey. Now if it fall out so that when he stoppeth, he keepeth his head and foreparts firm and even in the path, only he puts his hinder parts out of the furrow, you shall for amends thereof, whilst he standeth still, first wi●h gentle-motions give him two or three little claps with the calf of your leg upon the contrary side from whence he swerveth, accompanying therewithal the use of your rod, with which you shall not strike, but only lay unto his thigh a little above his cambrel, on the contrary side likewise from whence he turneth: as thus for example, If he cast his hinder parts out of the furrow towards your left hand, than you shall lay the calf of your left leg, and your rod to his left side and left thigh, which (because all horses naturally fly from correction) will make him remove his hinder parts to the right side again. But if your horse (contrary both to Nature and Art) not only refuses to understand you, but also the more you use those helps, the more he augments his fault (as I have both seen, and had horses of such quality) you shall then cause a slander by with his hands, first to thrust his hinder parts into the furrow with all gentleness; but if the horse show either unwillingness or contention, than the by-stander shall not only threaten him with his voice, but also give him a good stroke or two with a small cudgel, upon that hough to which he swerveth, and to his threatenings and strokes, you shall accompany those helps of your own before prescribed, that your horse may thereby understand, that whatsoever before you did, was but by gentle means to bring him to that, whereto he is now forced by compulsion: and be assured after you have used this course three or four times, it shall be enough: so that upon the least motion either of your leg, or rod, he will amend his vice, with obedience. After your horse is thus brought to know his fault and mend his fault; if then at any time he happen to use the same fault; you shall then observe, that such vice neither proceeds from ignorance, folly, or want of Art, but merely out of the evil habit of his mind, vildness of complexion, and aptness to do evil; which to reform, you shall in stead of the calf of your leg on the contrary side, give him the full stroke of your spur on the contrary side, and in stead of laying your rod unto his hough, give him two or three good jerts upon his hough, augmenting your punishment as he augments his fault, and not desisting till he reform his vice, which he shall no sooner do in the smallest measure, but you shall immediately convert your corrections into cherishings, observing this caution (both in this error and all others) not to continue your correction till he amend the whole substance of his vice: but whensoever he doth but hitch, or remove one foot, or one step in way of amends: upon that diminutive of goodness not to omit to leave punishing, and presently to cherish him; nay if he do but in semblance show a willingness to amend, though in motion he do it not, you shall cherish him for that good show only, that being thereby fortified and encouraged, he may with more willingness pursue amends and goodnea. When your horse thus with the temperate drawing in of your hands will stop just, firm, strait and Of Retiring. strongly, couching his hinder legs in comely order, and carrying his head constantly without disorder, you shall then after he hath stopped and paused a while, as it were to fetch his breath, and called together his wits, make him retire and go back in this manner. First, you shall draw both the reins of your Trench even together a little more hard than ordinary, towards the pommel of your Saddle. And if your horse happen (as it is most likely) out of his want of knowledge to stand still, and rather, press his mouth upon the Trench, then by going back yield to your hand, In this case you shall immediately ease your hand, & with the same motion of ease, draw it tenderly in again, dancing as it were with your hands, and making them come and go with swift, yet very soft motions, till in the end he remove some one of his feet, which how confusedly so ever he doth, yet notwithstanding cherish him, that he may understand your meaning is but the removing of his legs, which done, begin again, and labour him as before, it may be then he will remove two of his legs, at which again pause and cherish him; continuing thus to do till you have made him go back a step or two, which when he doth, you shall immediately cherish him, light from his back, and give him somewhat to eat: then having walked up and down awhile, you shall take his back again, and solicit him as before: observing, that at the first beginning of this lesson, you neither respect nor correct your horse, because he goeth back either ilfavoredlye or unnimbly, because this lesson of all other lessons is most unnatural and fearful, as well because he hath not the use of his sight therein, as also it is a motion quite contrary to that he first learned of nature; so that at first you must be satisfied, if he do but go back though with little or no comeliness. After you have brought your horse to go back a step or two, if then he stick, and will go back no further, you shall then by no means hale or pull at his mouth, but using the former tender motions of your hand, turn the point of your rod downward before his breast, not striking him, but letting him feel the rod, at which if he stir not, you shall then give him a jert or two with your rod upon the breast, if that avail not, than you shall give him a good stroke first of the one side, then of the other with your spurs, at which if he either start, press forward, or go sidelong, be not you moved, but staying him, use again the same helps and the same corrections without ceasing, till you have made him retire at least six or seven paces, which when he doth (albe never somuch ill favouredly) immediately forget not exceedingly to cherish him. If it so fall out that your horse at his first beginning to learn to go back, either out of his dullness of spirit, or doggedness of nature, will not withstanding all your pain and gentle instructions, either disobediently rebel, or like an insensible block stand still without spirit or motion; in either of these extremities, you shall make a stander-by to stand at the place of stop, who as soon as you offer to make your horse retire, shall with a rod in his hand threaten him but not strike him, saying unto him back, back: but if the horse notwithstanding continue in his stubbornness, he shall then with the big end of his rod, give the Horse a rap or two upon the nose; yet this correction I would have to be very seldom used for fear thereby the horse grow fearful of the man, which is a wild error, but rather to make the stander-by to take the horse by each side of the musrol and so thrust him back, but by no means let him handle the cheeks of your bit, (albe it be the use of many horsemen,) for fear the distemperature of his band breed disorder in the horse's mouth. After the by slander hath thus three or four times thrust your horse back, & by that means given him a full knowledge of your meaning, if then your horse shall not upon the first motion of your hand retire and go back, you shall then neither spare the correction of your Spurs, by striking them one after another, neither the use of your rod by jerking him soundly overthwart the breast and shins, nor the threatening of your voice, nor any punishment, those three helps, can inflict upon him, till with obedience he fulfil your mind, and retire at the first motion. This lesson of retiring, you shall not cease daily to labour him in, till he be so perfect, that he will retire when you will, as far as you will, and as swiftly as you will, yea even with such speed, that taking his legs crosswise, nimbly, and clean from the ground, he may not only seem to troth, but troth indeed backward, which is a lesson which shows in the rider great art, and in the horse great nimbleness and obedience. All the observations you shall respect in this lesson; is that your horse in his retiring, carry his head and rain close and perfect, and yielding his head inward to your hand, and not outward from your hand, which if he do, you shall correct him by drawing the Martingale so much straighter, as his head in thrusting out seems to have got liberty. Next you shall observe that he retire back as justly, and in as even a furrow as he trotted forward, not thrusting his hind● parts awry, o● going back crosswise or uneven; which if he do, the same corrections which are prescribed for the amendment of the like fault in the stop, will reclaim this error in retiring. Lastly you shall observe tha● in your Horses retiring you a little, draw your own legs backward; yet not so much that either it may be so grossly perceived by your beholders, that you may lose the beauty of your seat, nor with that closeness that you touch the horses sides, and move amazement, but in such moderate and comely order, that it may be only by yourself and no other judged; then when your horse hath retired so far as you think sufficient, you shall immediately thrust your feet forward stiff upon your stirrup leathers, which will presently stay him from retiring any further. When your horse will stop firmly and surely, with a good grace and an humble obedience, and when he Of advancing. will retire back, either as swiftly or as slowly as you will, and as far as you will; you shall then teach him to advance before, which is not only an exceeding great ornament and grace unto all the horses lessons, but also so necessary and profitable, that without it a horse can neither manage, turn upon either hand, or do any other air or salt with beauty or comeliness. To advance before, is to make a horse raise both his forefeet together from the ground, & set them down instantly in the same place, with as good comeliness as he took them up, wherefore the fittest time and place to make a horse advance, is at the stop only, and you shall do it in this manner. After you have trotted your horse in some gravelly or sandy way, about a dozen or twenty yards, you shall there stop him, and in the very instant that you stop him (that is even as you draw up the reins of your Trench) you shall clap both the calves of your legs hard to his sides, holding the reins constant & firm still, but if at first he will not advance (as there is no likelihood he should) not yet understanding your mind, but rather offereth to retire back, you shall then by thrusting your feet forward stiff upon your stirrup leathers, not only keep him from retiring, but also thrust him forward into his trot again as far as before: where stopping him, and giving him again the same help, with the calves of your legs, it may be then the horse perceiving you will neither suffer him to go forward nor backward, neither yet to stand still, he will out of the amazedness of his own conjectures, show some strange motions, all which you shall diligently heed, observing that if he take up but one foot, and set it down again, that instantly you ease your hand, and cherish him: which done, trot him forth again, and upon the stop do the like, not ceasing until you have enforced him to take both his forelegges from the ground, in a round and comely order, and so set them down again. But if you shall perceive that in this lesson he showeth exceeding sloth and dullness, and out of the peevishness of his nature (albe he understand your will) yet will not perform your will, in this case you shall now and then, in stead of the help of the calves of your legs, give him your spurs one after another, but in any wise not both together, for that will bring him not to advancing, but to bounding, an Art yet too early for his learning: you may also for your better speed, and to move spirit and quickness in the horse; now and then as you help him with the calves of your legs, give him a good iert or two with your rod over the left shoulder. To some horses of good metal, the shake of the rod will be sufficient when you have brought your horse that he will advance with the help of the calves of your legs only, you shall then accustom him to do it twice, thrice, or four times together, even so oft as it shall please you to give him warning by the former helps; not forgetting to cherish him exceedingly, so oft as he doth perform your pleasure. Now for observations in this lesson; first you shall observe that you make him stop and advance upon his footpace, then upon his trot, both slow and swift, and lastly, upon his gallop, yet let your greatest exercise at the first be upon a swift trot, for it soonest brings a horse to lightness, nimbleness, and understanding. Next you shall observe, that when you stop your horse, and give him the help of the calves of your legs, that you carry your legs so even and strait by your Of Retiring. horses sides, that as it were by an unperceived motion you may help your horse, & not be discerned by ignorant gazers; which indeed is the true grace of horsemanship, and not like our S. George riders, carry your legs beyond the fore-shoulders of your horse; so that every time you bring them to the horses sides, you fetch a compass, as if you would strike your legs thorough him, both to the scorn of Art, and the dislike of all judicial spectators, which fashion is by much too much practised here in England, and makes many times our riders excellent inward knowledges to be utterly condemned for their outward practice, and for mine own part I never saw, either Italian, Frenchman, or other stranger, equal some of our English riders in any thing, but in the covertnesse of their motions; which I must confess is wondrous praiseworthy, because by such Art a horse appears to do what he doth, rather by nature than man's industry; where on the contrary part, when the man's motions are so gross, the horse (how well spirited soever) seems to do nothing but like a cart-●ade which hath the whip ever upon him. Next you shall observe that when your horse advanceth before that he couch his hinder loins towards the gronud, and that he so conveniently trust upon his hinder feet, that he slide upon them, and as it were dig up the ground before him; which if he do not, you shall then observe ever to stop him upon hanging or descending ground with his head down the descent; insomuch that upon necessity, he cannot advance, but he must couch his hinder parts. Then you shall observe that your horse advance not too high or rear upright, or that raising up his forelegs, he cast them not out ill favouredly, as if he would sprawl or strike with them; any of these faults if you perceive, you shall use those remedies formerly prescribed in the chapter against horses that will rear upright. Lastly you shall observe that your horse do not advance at any time, no not so much as at his stop except you give him the help of the calves of your legs; for avoidance whereof, and for as much as horses naturally after they have got the trick of advancing, will upon any sleight correction or displeasure, fall to advance and rise before, you shall therefore never (but upon great extremity) use the help of your spur in advancing, nor to stop oft in a short course, neither shall you (although it be the rule of Grison) teach your horse to advance by the help of your voice, as by crying Hup hup, or such like, nor with the sound of your rod only, without the help of your legs, for such customs do bring disorders breeding in the horse such an extraordinary lightness, that he will advance when you would have him go forward, and in his wanton or sullen motions be so contrary to your will, that he will fall in the end to plain restifenes. Now for the uses and benefits of these three lessons, there is none so ignorant that knows not the necessity of stopping, because it is the only ground of order and obedience, and also that it should be sudden, and in an instant, because in service the pressing forward of one yard more than should be, is oft times the loss of both horse & horseman, with many other reasons both probable and effectual, which I will omit, because I will not be too tedious. Next for the use of retiring or going back it is almost as necessary as going forward; for as it chargeth and annoyeth the enemy; so this avoideth and saveth the Rider, giving him leave in his combat to take his best advantage: it maketh a man retreat honourably from his foe, both with his face upon him, and under the guard of his own sword and other differences, where contrary wise, if a man should ever turn his back, he doth not only deprive himself of all safety, but even gives himself to the advantage of his enemy: it is also very profitable in travail, or journeying, as if a man in an unknown way shall be so compassed about either by bogs, waters or ditches of danger, that he can not go forward, neither turn of either hand, if then his horse can not retire, into what a perplexity and mischief is he drawn? Lastly going back, settleth and stayeth the horse's mouth, makes him light and easy of rain, and in the end makes him so nimble of his recte, that not any other lesson but is learned after with a great deal less trouble and vexation. Now for the use of advancing (as before I said,) it is both an ornament to the horses lessons, and the first introduction which makes a horse turn gallantly and strongly, it brings a horse to know the use and power of each of his feet, making him do as much with three feet, two feet, and sometimes with one, as other horses do with all four. And thus much for stopping, retiring, and advancing. CHAP. 16. Of yarking behind and the use thereof. AFter your horse will stop close and firm, retire readily, and advance gallantly, if then (your horse being of complete age and strength, which is five years old at least,) you find him of such quick spirit and lively courage, that he hath as it were a natural inclination to lightness, which you shall perceive both by his tractability and quick apprehension of his lessons, and also by his agility and nimbleness in doing of his lessons; when this you find, it shall not be amiss if then you teach him when he stops and advanceth, that he a●o yerk behind; which for mine own part how ever other precept writers have s● down compulsory means, which way to bring a horse unto it, yet would I never have horse urged thereunto, but when you find him so naturally addicted, that even of himself he begins the practice of the lesson; for besides that it is a lesson of great strength, violence, and hard understanding, it is also so subject to strains and painfulness, that it oft beats the limbs, and brings both disease, and the effects of age, before nature would be acquainted with it; But being so that you have a horse apt thereunto, and that he wants but only Art and your help to make him perfect, you shall then when you have trotted your horse about twenty paces, even in the very instant that he stoppeth and advanceth, you shall give him a jert or two with your rod in his flank, to make him gather up his rump, not ceasing till he take his hinder feet from the ground, which as soon as you shall perceive him to do you shall immediately stand still and cherish him, nay if you find he takes up but one leg, albe he strike it out ill favouredly like a cow, yet shall you cherish him for so doing, that he may thereby understand to what end your correction serveth. When you have thus done, you shall labour him again, ever observing in the very instant of his advancing to jert him under the flank with your rod, till in the end you make him yerk out both his hinder legs, just and even together: which when he doth, you shall cherish him, light from his back, and give him somewhat to eat; which done, you shall take his back, and do as you did before, labouring him daily in this lesson, with such diligence and painfulness, that in the end if when he advanceth, you do but jert your rod by his side, and not touch his side, he will forth with yark out both his hinder feet even and close together. Now whereas some give out precepts to bring a Horse to this lightness or yarking behind, first in the Stable, by beating him upon the ●umpe with a sharp rod, the perch or such like instruments, I for mine own part, cannot but much discommend them; both because it is a motion of all others, which in the Stable should be least used; as well because of the uncomeliness thereof in the house, as also the danger of the rider or beholders, if he should hap (as it is usual with such horses) to throw off any of his shoes, for casting filth or dirt in their faces which stand behind, that is most common, yet most loathsome. Again, a horse that is so unapt to yark behind, that he will not learn it in the field, except first it be made a house lesson; truly I hold such a horse unfit to learn the lesson at all. Now for observations in this lesson, you shall first observe that your horse never yark out his hinder legs, when his forelegs are upon the ground for that is gross, uncomely, and like a cow, but that he yerk behind, when all four feet are from the ground, contrary to which when he doth, you shall immediately give him the even stroke of both your spurs together, & it will not only reform him, but also bring up his legs with more Spirit. Secondly, you shall observe that when he yarketh, he ya●k out his hinder feet even & close together, not one further out then another, neither striding one from another, nor more a wry of one side then the other, any of which when he doth, you shall immediately upon that side on which he most offendeth, give him the stroke of that spur, and not of the other. Lastly, you shall observe that he never yerk but when you give him the help of your rod, neither that you carry your hand in this lesson with any more hardness or intemperance, then when you taught him the ordinary stop; by which means if he shall press forward at his first teaching, you shall need no other correction then to make him retire back as much as against your will he priest forward. Now for the use of this lesson, it is only to make your horse light, nimble, and apt to such airs & salts above ground, as are to be taught after; either for your own instruction in the art, or for the delight of others; it is good also in service, if after you have encountered your enemy, he seek to catch advantage by coming behind you, or if you shall be compassed about with more than one enemy, in any of these cases, if your horse will yerk behind, you shall find it very profitable both for your own safety, & the hurt of those which seek your destruction. And thus much for making a horse to yark behind. CHAP. 17. Of turning upon both hands, and the several kinds of turns. OF turns there be divers & sundry kinds, which for in our english tongue we have no proper nor distinct names, I think it not amiss to use those titles, which the ancient Italians used; being both proper & significant; at the Incavallare which is the first strait or narrow turn that a horse should learn, which indeed imports a lapping or folding over of the outmost leg over the inmost; yet is not done in any such straightness, but that the horse hath liberty to use his hinder legs, as well as his forelegges, and so to go as it were in a narrow ring. The next they call Ciambetta, and that is when a horse turneth his whole body, keeping firm upon the ground but only one hinder foot. And this turn of all other is the straightest. Then is there another turn which they call Terra, Terra, and that is when the horse doth with equal motions raise up his forelegges both together, and pursuing them after with his hinder legs, beats a ring round about, either of large or straight compass, and this turn of all other turns is of most use, best beauty, and greatest profit. From this turn is derived divers other turns, as that which is called Carogola, or snaile-turne, or that which they call Serpegiare, & such like, of all which we will speak in their several places; for as touching that method which hath formerly been prescribed of half turns; whole turns, & double turns, although they in teaching be of good use, yet to the ignorant Reader they give not a full satisfaction. Wherefore first of all to begin with that turn which the Italians call Incavallare, you shall thus instruct your horse: first riding him in some gravellye or sandy way, you shall gently walk out a strait ring on your right hand, being at the most not above eight yards in his greatest compass, and in the making thereof you shall have an especial regard by the carriage of the left rain of your Trench somewhat more strait then accustomably; that your horse carry his head and neck very just and even without bending or looking inward to your right side, which done after a little pause, you shall then walk him in an evenline, about two yards, or two yards and a half at the most forward, and there, by laying your left rain close to his neck, your left leg close to his side, and your rod upon his left shoulder, make him bring his body about, and make just one quarter of a complete Circle upon your right hand: then walk him again in an even line as far further and with the same helps, and on the same hand make another quarter of a circle, do thus the third time and the fourth time, till the lines wherein you walk present unto you this figure following. In this figure you shall walk your horse about at least a dozen times upon a hand, making at every point your quarter circles closer & closer, till you perceive at last he lap & throw his outmost leg over his inmost. It may be that at the first practice of these square circulars, the horse will be so unnimble, that he will knock one leg upon another, and not lap them over in order as becometh, but of that take you no respect, for even those knocks shall be corrections enough to bring him unto reformation; let your care be only to preserve his rain, neck and head, constant and firm, and to take that leisure and time in this lesson, that your horse by your haste may not be brought to any doubtful thought or amazements; when you have walked your horse thus a dozen times on the right hand, you shall then make the like figure, and do as much upon the left hand, using ever the contrary helps to the contrary hand, in these two figures you shall exercise your horse every day, at least two or three hours together for the space of eight or ten days at the least, till he be so perfect therein, that you shall no sooner move your leg, or stir your hand, but he will eftsoons lap his outmost leg over his inmost, and turn with all comeliness, which when he doth, you shall then make those quarter circle's full semicircles, and so change your proportion to this figure. In this figure, you shall exercise him a week at the least till he be so perfect, that by his nimbleness & quickness, thereupon you find him both apt and cunning enough to make those semicircles whole rounds, which the Italians call complete single turns, or if you list he will do them (only with the help of your hand) full twice about, which is a just double turn, and as you find him perfect upon any hand, so you shall alter the ring, and practise him upon the other, till he be upon both so cunning, that neither hath above other any superiority. When your horse will thus do this Incavallare in a ring, which must be from the centre to the verge, but just the horses length, you shall then for a dozen turns together, nay sometimes twenty turns, exercise him only therein, making his hinder feet only move in the centre, and his fore feet lapping the outmost, over the inmost to beat out the proportion of the outmost ring; In this sort, after you have laboured him, and made him perfect, you shall then after he hath made two or three turns on your right hand, cause him to retire three or four paces, and then without any stay do as many times on your left hand, then retire as far again, and do as before on the right hand again, and thus till he be perfect, you shall practise him: only helping him with your leg, rod, and the motion of your body, leaving a little on the contrary side to that whereon he turneth, till custom have brought him to that cunning, that your hand only shall be help sufficient for this motion. Now for as much as some horses, partly out of folly, partly out of unnimblenesse, and partly out of evil inclination, are many times more apt to turn upon one hand then upon another; nay some so dogged, that they will turn on one hand and not on the other at all, I think it not amiss, before I proceed any further, to show you how you shall reclaim so foul an error: first if it proceed from folly & unnimblenes, them only custom and practice will amend it, for the one brings knowledge, the other agility, but if it proceed from evil inclination, or stubbornness of will, then must there be some more extraordinary art used, and in it many excellent horsemen have laboured both their wits and bodies, finding out remedies of sundry natures, all which though experience have found them profitable in some Horses, yet the same experience hath also found them utterly fruitless in horses of other conditions, for there is nothing more hard to reclaim then this vice, insomuch, that I dare not confidently say this one practice shall reclaim this fault in any horse whatsoever: albe the goodness thereof have been esteemed never so general: but to return to the fault itself, if your horse will turn readily on the right hand, but most vildelye or not at all upon the left, (though in nature Horses ever do turn more readily on the left hand then the right) you shall then tread out your first square with quarter circles on your left hand, and exercise him first thereon, then on the right hand, and then on the left again, both beginning and ending upon that hand on which he is most unready: you shall also to the other helps before prescribed, add this, to carry ever your left rain a little shorter than the right. Some will in this case of unwilling turning, have a Footman stand before the horse with a rod in his hand, who when you would have your horse to turn, as you use the help of your leg and hand, shall with his rod strike the horse on the right side of the nose, & threaten the horse by crying turn here and turn there, but in my conceit though it were the precept of Grison himself, I hold it barbarous and unprofitable, for it will both bring the horse to weakness and incertainty of his head, to rearing and plunging, & lastly to such a cowardly fearfulness, that he will hardly after endure any man whatsoever. Others have used to tie a thong of leather, to the eye of the Trench, on the left side, and the other end (the thong being drawn very strait) to the foremost girth on the same side, and then turning him loose into some strait Lane, either between two walls, or else between two high fences, and there yourself being at one end, & some other footman at the other with rods in your hands to drive him up and down from one end of the Lane to the other, forcing him ever to turn upon the left hand, as of necessity he must do, because he cannot turn upon the right hand, his head being so tied so much to his left side, but this is more frivolous than the former, and neither hath taste of Art nor agreement with good sense. For besides that, the manner thereof is full of frantic violence & amazement, rather making a horse mad with his fault, then giving him knowledge how to amend his fault, it is also so subject to indiscretion & misgovernment; that it is impossible to work any good effect out of such loose trial. Another way is used to amend this fault by tying a cord either to the chain or Cavezan, and bringing it through the ring on that side of which he is unwilling to turn, and making a by-stander hold the cord in his hand: if when you would have your horse turn on that hand, he refuse, then shall the by-stander give him a good twitch with the cord, and make him turn whether he will or no. This is somewhat more tolerable than the other, yet not of sufficient goodness, for it mars the horse's rain, and makes weak the neck, both which must be with all care preserved. Now for changing the hook of the curb to that side of which the horse is hard to turn, and having sharp pricks thereon next the horses lips, or to place sharp nails through the ports-mouth of the bit, on the contrary side to that on which the horse will not turn, or if he will not turn on the left hand, to turn him so oft on the right hand, that you even tire him, and so through his dislike of turning on that hand think to make him turn on the other: although these be Grisons precepts, and may work some effect to this purpose, Yet for mine own part, I would have them seldom used: for the pricks on the curb makes a horse lose the delight in the curb, which is the only figure that shoes a sweet mouth; and the pricks in the ports-mouth, makes a horse shake his head, & use fantastical countenances, which are mightily to be eschewed, but for tiring him in that lesson wherein he doth well, is so preposterous, and giveth him such discouragement, that he will never do any thing but ill afterward. But to come to corrections of some better nature, if your horse refuse to turn as before I said on your left hand, you shall to the right eye of the trench, fasten a small twound chain, which chain you shall bring from thence betwixt the horses neither lip, and his chap thorough the left eye of the trench, and thereby casting a knot upon the chain, keep it that it slip not back, nor fall from betwixt his lip and chap, than the remainder of the chain you shall bear in your left hand like a false rain, and then practising your horse in the first square rounds, if he stick or refuse to turn on your left hand you shall then at first twitch the chain gently, that he may but feel the correction, but if notwithstanding he persever in his stubborness, you shall then draw the Chain hard, and compel him to turn whether he will or no, joining to this correction a good stroke or two with your spurt on the contrary side. And as I prescribe this rule for the left hand, so if he be harder to turn on the right hand, (which is more common) you shall but then alter your chain, your helps and corrections to the other side, & it will work all one effect. I have seen some, that instead of this chain, have used a small cord, but it hath so galled and cut the horses mouth, that I have seen foul Cankers grow thereby; so that I conclude the Cord to be exceeding ill. I have seen others, that using this Chain, have ridden into a new plowde field, and there have trotted him too and fro, as it were in a managing furrow, and when he hath showed any disobedience, they have not only tormented him with the Chain, and the threatenings of their voice, but they have also spurred him exceedingly on both sides, beat him between the ears and about his sides with a cudgel so exceedingly, that I have seen some borses grow desperate & some so dejected, that they have stood still, & would not stir though a man should have killed them. This violent course is to be shunned. And the gravelly or sandy way, and the gentle manner of instruction, which carries knowledge with it is the best way to reclaim this fault; yet observing this rule, when you either use this Chain or any other correction, never to desist or suffer your horse to come out of the square rounds, till with Help only, & without the use of correction, he perform your pleasure, no not though you be compelled to continue him therein from morning till night, for to leave him when he doth evil is to fortify him in all evil, as also to torment him when he doth well, is to make him loath well doing, & hold his goodness his worst error, wherefore as you must labour and trouble him till he do well, so when it is done you must not forget to give him ease and cherishings. But to come to a conclusion of these many remedies for this single fault, you shall understand there is one more remaining, in my judgement, & as I have found by practice, far exceeding the rest; wherefore I would advise all men not to use any other till this fail, & thus it is. If your horse be harder to turn on the right hand then on the left, you shall take away the Musrole made of writhen Iron, and instead thereof, put upon him a Cavezan, which having a short leather fastened to the two rings, whereto to put the Martingale, it must also have two reins to run crosswise thorough the rings, which you must carry in your hands with the reins of your Trench. This Cavezan must be made smooth without teeth or nicks, but only for the breadth of two or three inches on the left side, which must not only be full of sharp teeth, but also have certain sharp punches or pricks to run thorough the Cavezan, and stand even with the teeth, so that when you shall at any time draw the right rain; the teeth and pricks may both bite upon the side of the horses face, and when at any time you ease your hand, that then the Cavezan may carry such compass, that it no longer press or hurt the horse: for you must ever observe, that your correction continue no longer than the reformation of the vice, the fashion of the Cavezan is contained in this figure. I have seen this Cavezan made with a little stiff plate of steel, full of holes, through which the pricks and teeth did pass, so that when you do draw the rain and press the plate, than the pricks would run into the horse's cheek, and when you did ease your hand, the plate of steel would thrust the pricks from the horses face; this was not amiss, but very necessary, nevertheless, if the Cavezan be made in round and just compass, it will hurt no more than it if had the plate of steel. Now as these teeth and pricks being placed on the left side of the cavesson, make a horse turn on the right hand, so being placed on the right side they make him turn on the left side. With this Cavezan, and the helps of the hand, leg and rod, as aforesaid, I would have you exercise your horse first in the squares with quarter circles, then in the long furrow with semicircles, after in whole circles, and so forth till he be so perfect in this strait turn, that he will double and redouble it at your pleasure: observing ever that in this turn he carry his head and neck in even and just proportion, that he lap his outmost leg over his inmost with all comeliness, and lastly that he keep true time with his hinder legs, and remove them in equal proportion with his fore legs, neither so swiftly, as if he would play jack over the Chain with his hinder parts only (which is the fashion of the Almains) nor so slowly, as if his hindder legs were glued to the ground, and would have no motion. When your horse is perfect in this turn, the next straight turn is called Ciambetta, and Grison writes thereof a very tedious & long discourse. The manner of the turn is to make a horse take up both his forelegs from the ground, and not to set them down till he bring his head to the place where his buttocks stood, which he calls a half turn; but if he bring his head to the place where before it stood, than it is a whole turn, and if he do it twice together, than it is a double turn. In this turn, the horse must keep firm upon the ground but only one hinder foot, which makes the turn so weak, incertain and uncomely, that (as there is good cause) it is merely out of use with all good horsemen: for if a man shall come to join with his enemy at the sword, if in every strait turn a horse take three of his feet from the ground: how easy a matter is it for the enemy by rushing in upon him, to overthrow both him and his horse to the ground: yet in the days of Grison, partly because of the straightness and curiosity thereof, and partly for want of better experience, it was thought the only artificial turn; and questionless in his practice he did approve (as appears by his writings) many ways to bring his horse unto it, as namely by riding him in a dry dyke, made about nine inches deep, and eighteen inches broad, wherein stopping him, and making him advance before, in the very instant of his advancing to make him turn about, so that his forefeet may not touch the ground till they come where his hinder parts stood; or by exercising the like in some narrow way, deep worn with water, or by teaching the horse in the stable (by knocking him under the knee with a stick) to hold up one of his legs as long as you list, with many other such like experiments, which because the turn is both nought, dangerous, and out of use, I will not clog your memories with the idle ceremonies thereof, but think this I have already spoken of, to be with the most, unless the matter wear to better profit or purpose. The next turn, and of all the most artificial, and The turn Terra▪ Terra. profitable turn, is that which I term (wanting a more proper name) Terra, Terra; for there is in it both beauty, art, strength, and profit. And albe it carry a larger compass than the former turns, yet when it is brought to perfitness, you may make it as strait as any of the other, and with a great deal of less danger. The way to bring your horse unto this turn, is after you have made him perfit upon the Incavalare, first in the square, with quarter circles, then in the semicirckles, and lastly in the whole rounds; you shall then in some gravelly or sandy way, mark out a Ring upon your right hand, which must be at least a dozen yards in compass: which done, you shall place another of the self same compass upon your left hand, and join it close to the first: than you shall enter into the first Ring again, and after you have trotted your horse once or twice about it, you shall then upon the trotting of three yards (which is the full quarter of your Ring) by laying the calf of your left leg close to the horses side, and drawing your hand a little in, make your horse advance before, and then instantly upon his advancing, thrust him forward again into his trot, not suffering him by any means to stick or stay, and so trotting him other three yards, make him advance again, and then thrust him into his trot again other three yards, doing thus till you have made him to advance four times in the whole compass of the Ring, that is to say, once in every quarter of the Ring, which done upon the right hand, you shall then make him do as much upon your left hand in the left ring: and for a better explanation whereof, look upon this figure following: and where you see the small strokes, there are the four places where you shall make your horse advance. In these rings you shall exercise your horse, only upon a swift trot, till he grow so light and nimble, that upon the least motion of your leg he will presently advance, and away again without any sticking, neither disordering his head, rain, or any other part of his body, but carrying every member in his place and comeliness; When your horse is thus made perfit upon these four advancements; than you shall divide the quarters of your rings into half quarters: And where before he did advance at the end of every three yards, you shall make him advance at every yard and a half, so that than your whole ring shall carry eight advancements, according to the lines in this figure following in the next page. Upon this Ring, and with these eight advancing, you shall practise your horse so long, till he either grow to such perfectness, that if as soon as he hath advanced and set down his forefeet again, going but one foot forward, you give him the least help with the calf of your leg that may be, he will presently advance again, and then going again but one step forward, advance again, doing thus till he grow so perfit, that as he advanceth with the help of your leg; so putting your feet forward, he will likewise follow with both his hinder feet even together, and set them down ever in the same place, where he took up his fore feet, only carrying his inmost forefoote, and his inmost hinder foot a little more forward than his outmost feet. whilst he doth any thing in circle; but when he doth it strait forward, then to take up his forefeet even together, & his hinder feet even also, first not advancing thus forward above twice or thrice together without cherishing, till he come to that perfection and cunning, that he will with the help of your leg, with these advancements beat the whole ring round about: wherein you must observe, that besides the carriage of his head and rain, (which must ever be constant, round, and in the best grace,) he do also follow his advancing with his hinder legs so close and just, that by no means he may seem to stick in his passage, or appear as if either his hinder parts were glued to the ground, or else too heavy for him to raise from the earth, as in these days you shall see many horses do, yea even sometimes under those who take upon them to be as good as the best schoolmasters; but it is a fault, wild and insufferable, springing ever from corruption in teaching, as thus; when a man will bring his horse to make his turn, by forcing him to advance three or four times together in one place, and then going a step or two forward to advance as oft more: And thus by continuance of these many advancing, and few steps going, at last the horse is brought to take up both his hinder feet together, and so to follow his fore-feet, setting the turn round about; but those many advancing together in one place, is ever the cause of a horses slothful bringing on of his hinder parts, because he thinks (according to his first custom) that he should not remove upon the first advancement, or if he do remove, it 〈◊〉 so little, that it is almost as good as nothing at all, wherefore if you will have your horse cunning and gallant in this turn, by no means let him advance above once in his first teaching, before he stop forwards. You shall also observe in this turn that your horse keep true time and leisure, that is, that he advance not faster nor slower at one time then at another, neither take greater strides at one time then another, but ever observe that just time and measure, which he undertakes at his first beginning; the fault whereof (when at any time it happens) must ever consist more in the horseman then in the horse; for the horse never advancing, but when you give your helps, look what time you observe in your helps, necessarily the same time he must keep in his motions, and in this time keeping lieth much art, because every lesson that is rudely done without it, is better undone, as having in it neither grace nor profit. When your horse will with these advancing beat this large ring about, both strongly, justly, and with a good grace, you may then draw your ring to so small a compass, that with four advancing, you may make a complete circle, according to the small ring in the centre of the former ring: observing this general note, that in your first teaching, upon every single turn setting, that is, upon making one circle complete, you cherish your horse, but by no means suffer him to stand still, but upon the finishing of his turn, to make him then trot about the ring that he may recover new breath, and in his trotting cherish him; and look whatsoever you do upon the right hand, forget not to do the same upon the left hand also; or if he be apt to one hand then the other, look upon which hand he is most unapt, and upon that hand you must ever double his exercise. After you have once begun with this turn, you must not cease daily to practise your horse therein, till you have brought him to that perfectness, that with the least feeling you can possible give with your leg, he will both begin and contiwe his turn, by means whereof you shall not be compelled to use those gross and far fetched motions, which many of our English Riders use, but perform your helps so covertly, that though they be felt, yet they shall not be discerned. You may then also double his turns; and where he went but once about, make him go twice, thrice, or four times, according to his strength and courage; you shall then also leave these large double rings, & only mark out one single ring, bearing but half the compass of the former. And after you have paced and trotted it about, you shall then give him the help of your leg, and make him (as was before showed you) beat the ring round about, raising up his fore parts, and following them swiftly with his hinder parts, till he have gone twice, thrice, or four times about, according to your pleasure on your right hand; which done, you shall then trot him again about the ring four or five times to recover his breath, and then trotting him out of the ring, take a little compass about, and turn him upon your left hand, on which hand you shall do in all points as you did upon your right hand: the manner and proportion of your change you shall behold in this figure following. When by exercise upon this Ring, you have brought your horse both to perfitness and constancy; insomuch that he performs every lesson with great Art, nimbleness & lightness, you may then adventure to proceed further, and put him to the Caragolo, or Snail ring, wherein you are to use no other Art or helps than were used in the former rings, for the difference is only in the continuance of the labour and the fashion of the rounds and not in any other substance: for as in the former rings you kept one certain line without alteration; so in the Caragolo you shall do otherwise, for when you do it, you shall at first mark out a ring of about a dozen or fourteen yards in compass, which after you have paced and trotted, you shall then by giving the help of your outmost leg to the straightness of your hand, make your horse beat the Ring round about, and when you come to the closing of the Ring, by drawing your hands a little more strait and inward, keep him still in his advancing, and draw the ring to a lesser compass, which second ring, when you come to close, you shall as you did before again straiten and thus straightening ring after ring, bring your horse within the compass of his own length, which is the straightest turn that may be, & there finish and close up your turn, which done, trot him cross the Ring to the largest compass, and thereby changing your hands, turn upon your left hand, and do in all points as much as you did upon your right hand, the fashion of this Snail ring, you may behold in this figure, the first letter A. being the entrance into the ring, the letter B. the closing up of the turn, and the second A. the changing of the hands. When your horse will perfectly set this turn you may then conclude him to be perfect in all turns, for there is none more hard or full of difficulty, and it is very much commended by Claudio Corte, a man very famous in this art, yet for mine own part, after you are once assured that your horse will do it sufficiently, you shall then practise your horse therein very seldom for it weakeneth a young horse exceeding much, and abateth his metal greatly, especially if it should be made a daily lesson. And thus much for turning, and the several kinds thereof. CHAP. 28. Of Managing and the several kinds thereof. ALthough every lesson which is done, either artificially or beautifully may by true interpretation be said to be a manage, yet for as much as we here in England, give the atribution of that name only to one particular lesson and no other: which indeed is only that we use when we encounter our enemy with the sword, or else practise in turning, where we use to gallop our horse in one direct path, at least twenty or thirty paces in length, and at either end to turn in a straight or narrow circle, galloping too and fro many times together, I think it not amiss both for custom sake, & for your better understanding, to hold the title still to that lesson and no other. Now of this kind of manage, which only is proper to the sword, Grison writes both diversly, & makes divers kinds thereof, as manage with half time, that is after he hath stopped, not to turn him till the second advancement. manage with whole time, that is to turn upon the third advancement: and manage without time, that is, to turn him presently upon the stop without further respite. Of all these he hath written both largely and seriously, and doubtless in his days, and upon the first foundation of this art, they were found not unnecessary; yet in these days of ours, where art is brought to a better perfection; they are all found useless and inconvenient, the two first having in them a kind of sloth or delay, both discommendable and uncomely, the other a kind of quickness or suddenness full both of danger and incertainty: wherefore to come to the true manage indeed, which hath in it both Beauty, Art & Profit, You shall after this manner bring your horse unto it, first in some gravellye or sandy high way, you shall troth your horse forthright in one path, about some 20. or 30 paces, and at the end thereof trotting as it were a half moon upon your right hand, troth down another direct path to the point where you began, and thereby making an other half moon upon your right hand again, join the two paths together at that end also, so that then the figure wherein you shall troth, will present to your eyes this proportion following in the next page. When you have walked and trotted in these two paths twice or thrice about, you shall then thrust your horse forth into a little more swifter trot then before; and when you come at the end of the path, you shall by drawing your hands a little straighter inward, and by giving the help of the calves of your legs, make your horse stop and advance, and presently upon the advance thrust him forward with your feet again, and then giving him the calves of your legs again making him advance again, you shall as you did in your former turns, make him beat that semicircle about: which when he hath done, you shall then put him into his trot, and trot him swiftly down the other path, where stopping him again, and using the former helps (as you did before) you shall now beat the other semicircle about on the same hand also with advancing as before. When you have thus done upon the right hand three or four times together, you shall then do as much upon your left hand, continuing this exercise so long, till he grow so perfect and cunning, that when he comes to the stop he will even of his own accord, set the half turns without almost any assistance; which when you perceive, you shall then put him from his trot, and make him do the same upon an easy and stately gallop. In this lesson you must be very diligent to help and assist your horse in every needful time, because in this lesson is comprehended many other lessons, as the grace & perfection of his gallop, the strength and certainty of his stop, and the agility and nimbleness of his strait turns. When you have made your horse perfect upon of these Semicircles, and double paths, than you shall bring him into whole rounds and single paths after this manner. First you shall place about a small ring upon your right hand, not above six yards in compass, which being plainly marked out that you may discern it, you shall then from that ring troth down an even path the length of thirty paces, and there mark out an other ring upon your left hand of the same compass also; than you shall put your horse into a slow gallop, & so gallop to your first ring, where when you come, by drawing your hands a little inward, and giving him the calves of your legs somewhat harder than usual you shall make him raise both his fore feet from the ground, and then following them closely with his hinder legs, beat the ring round about, as he did in his turns. Then you shall gallop him back again, and do the like upon the left hand, galloping him thus from ring to ring, in one direct path, till he have set upon either hand at least three or four several turns, in which you shall neither find difficulty nor disorder, if before you bring him unto this lesson (as is before prescribed) you have him very perfect in his straight turns, I mean only the Incavallare, and the turn Terra, Terra. Some of our Horsemen of best respect in this kingdom, do for the manage not so curiously respect the setting of any turn, but being come to the end of the managing path, only gallop the strait ring about with a little more firm loftiness, by drawing the bridle hand in, letting the horse feel, see or hear the rod of the contrary side, the man carrying his body upright, & at the close of the ring with his contrary spur to give him a good stroke or jobbe to bring him with spirit again into the managing path. This lesson of all other is to be done with great alacrity and cheerfulness both of the man and horse. Now for observations in managing, you are to observe all those rules which you did observe in your strait turns, you are likewise to observe in his galloping, that he keep his path justly and even, without either swerving of one side or other, or casting his hinder parts out of the path, as many horses naturally will do, which is a most vild fault in this lesson above all other, because if he keep not his path just, he can neither be good for sword nor Lance. If then your horse have this fault, and that the fault proceed from The benefit of the strait Wall. nature or folly, you may redress it, if you ride him every day, by some even or strait wall, having your rings at each end of the wall, and the wall so placed that you may ride by either side of it. As you trot him along this wall, if your horse cast his hinder parts from the wall; you shall first give him a good iert or two with your rod upon his hinder houghs, which are from the wall, and if he take no notice, not amend thereupon; you shall then give him a good stroakeor two with your outmost spur, just by his hinder garthe, but by no means in the flank, as many of our riders use to do, for it is both uncomely and disorderly, and if at the first he do not amend his fault with this correction, do not you take any care, but still continue your correction, and the riding him by the wall, till he take notice of his vice, and so reform it. The figure to be cut in the earth. In these deep rings, and this deep furrow, you shall exercise your horse first upon pace, then upon trot and lastly upon gallop, changing your hands as you shall either find him apt or unapt, till he be both so perfect and so well fortified, that he will go at an inch without either swerving his body or any other member, which be assured in less than a weeks space you may most easily bring to pass, so that afterwards he will in the plainest field keep his path as justly as in this deep furrow. An old dry dike is also for this fault as good as this digged surrowe, and where you can find such a one, you may there save this labour. Next you are to observe, that when your horse hath set the turn about, and is come even to the clofing up of the circle, and so to depart down the strait furrow again, that even in his departure from the circle, you give him the even stroke of both your spurs together with a firm hardness, that you may make your horse depart away with a lively and good courage, which is an excellent grace in a manage; and if you do it so violently, that you make him raise all his fore-feere from the ground, and as it were at the last closing of the ring, even to bond it away is much more beautiful, which the even stroke of your spurs will bring him unto in less than two mornings. Lastly, you shall observe, that if your horse be one of those horses which our English Horsemen call hot mouthed horses, that is, which will for a time, and whilst they are well pleased do any thing with obedience and order: but if once they be moved to anger, or to labour more than is agreeable with their own wills, they will presently fall to flat running away, not that they take delight in running away, for the labour is worse than their other exercise, but that they imagine by running away, to run from their pain. When this fault you find, you shall then make your managing course in some fair high way, near to some deep new plowedlandes, and if after you have given him half a dozen turns upon each hand, and done as much as you can with good order to vex him, if then he fall to run away, you shall immediately thrust him upon the new plowde lands; and there threatening him with your voice, and correcting him both with your rod and spurs, never leave him till you have made him upon those deep lands both gallop large rings and strait rings too and fro, in such a confused manner, that he may apprehend the true order of no one certain lesson, but even toil and turn up and down at your own pleasure, till you feel either his breath or strength weaken by your labour; then bring him to the high way again, and having walked him up and down in the Managing furrow and rings, till he have recovered breath; then fall to manage him again as at the first. This correction if you use but twice, I am verify persuaded it will never need the third time. And thus much for manages, and the kinds thereof. CHAP. 19 Of the passing of a swift Career. THis word Career is by many ignorant men and some Scholars taken for leaping, bounding, & saults above ground; for I saw in a late translated author, where speaking of those lofty airs, he calls them Careering horses; an epithiton most unproper: for indeed Career is but only to run swiftly; and to pass a Career, is but to run with strength and courage such a convenient course as is meet for his ability; which every horseman must measure according as he finds the spirit and shape of his horse: the heavy & unwieldy horse having the shorter course, and the light spirited and fine shaped horse the longer: yet for as much as there is a mediocrity and indifference amongst the most part, I think, and it is also confirmed by many good Horsemen, that fourscore and ten paces is a very convenient Career, neither being too long for the slow horse, nor too short for the swift. Wherefore when your horse is most perfect in all the lessons before specified, (and not before) you shall then make him pass a Career in this manner; being comed into some large & even high way without either ruts or galls to occasion stumbling, after you have pacd him three or four times on your right hand, about a little narrow ring; you shall then troth him strait forward (as near as you can guess) at least fourscore and ten paces, and there walk him three or four times about a narrow ring on your left hand, & then setting his head directly down the way you came, make him stand still a pretty space, settling yourself even and firm in your saddle, easing your hand, and cherishing your horse, which done, yielding your body a little forward, and jerting your legs forward with all your strength, stiffly upon your stirrup leathers, and crying with your voice hay or how, start your horse suddenly, into a swift gallop, and then giving him the even stroke of your spurs twice or thrice together, make him run with all the strength and fury he hath, till he come to the verge of your first ring, & there, by drawing both your hands hard into the pommel of your saddle, & laying the calves of your legs close to his sides, make him stop close upon his buttocks, and advance with all twice or thrice together, & then stand still a good space, whilst you cherish the horse and case your hand, which done, you may then walk him about a narrow ring again on your right hand, till he have recovered breath and strength, and so trot him home to the Stable. Now that your horse may at the stop couch his hinder legs the better, and so make it more close and beautiful, it shall be good that you choose such a piece of ground to pass the career upon, as may at the last end where your horse shall stop, be somewhat descending down the hill, yet so, that it may be gravelly and firm ground, on which your horse may valiantly trust his feet; & not slippery or grass ground, which once failing a horse, will make him ever after, out of his distrust both have worse willnd stop with much less beauty. After you have past your horse a career or two, and find that he will do it strongly, swiftly, and obediently, you shall then not pass him a Career above once in two or three months; especially after he comes to wear a bit; for nothing doth distemper a horse's mouth so much as passing many Carieres. And thus much for this lesson. CHAP. 20. When and how to bit horses, and to wake his head constant. AFter your horse hath been thus far trained up, and taught perfectly in all these former lessons, only with the Trench, Martingale, and musrol, and that you find he doth every lesson with a comely grace, good courage, great lightness, and settled constancy, you shall then take away his Trench, and in stead thereof put into his mouth a plain smooth Cannon bit, somewhat formerly worn, of the proportion & shape of the first figure of camnons formerly described, & this bit you shall at the first putting on anoint with honey and salt; the kurb thereof must be round, smooth, long, and very full, by any means not pressing, but only lying gently upon the neither lip. The cheek of this first bit must be strait, according to the first figure of cheeks, and the length according to the proportion of the horse, as thus for example: when your horse standeth in his best glory, and raineth most comely, and closest as you may make him do if you stand by him, and hold either a piece of bread, or a perfumed glove to his nose; or if you make a strange horse stand before him, as it were to over-face him. Take them your riding rod, and measure him from his neither tush to the upper part of the fore point of his shoulder, and just so long must the cheek of your bit be from the eye of the bit, to the nethermost part thereof. Now when you have put this bit into your horse's mouth, and placed it in his due place, which is ever above the neither tush, so as it may touch, but not rest upon the tush, you shall then take the last Cavezan formerly showed, which consists all of one piece, not having sharp teeth, but blunt teeth, as appears by the figure, & with long reins of good round rope, being both soft, and but half twound, put it upon your horse's head, placing it just underneath the nose-band of your bridle, which is so much lower than your musrol lay by the just breadth of your nose-band; insomuch that the Cavezan shall rest upon the gristle of the horses nose, which is the tenderest part of the horses face. Now for as much as the weight of the iron, when you ease the reins of the Cavezan will fall down, and peradventure slip over the horse's nose, you shall understand that all your Cavezans must have their outsides covered with leather strong and good, so that the iron may not be seen; then through this leather you shall put a string, with which string you shall tie the Cavezan up to the noseband of the bridle, and the noseband in any wise at the first you shall buckle close and strait about the horses chaps, lest at the first wearing of a bit, which is a mouth more full and large than the Trench, he take unto him the foul vice of gaping. When your horse is thus trimmed, after he have stood a while upon the bit in the stable, and felt the curb and other implements, you shall then bring him to the block, and take his back. As touching the carriage of the reins of your bit, I have formerly showed you: and for the reins of your Cavezan you shall carry them in all points, as before I taught you to carry the false reins of the flying Trench, which is, the left rain in your left hand, and under your left thumb, and your right rain in your right hand, of an even length with the other. After you are well settled, and every thing about your horse orderly disposed, you shall then thrust forward your horse, and trot him fair and softly into some large sandy high way, bearing his head only upon the Cavezan, and letting him but feel the bit and no more, no sooner drawing it with the least motion, but instantly easing it again. You shall the first day neither put him to large ring, nor any other lesson, but only trot him strait forward, and make him stop and retire, using the help of the bit little or nothing at all. After you have thus ridden him the first day, you shall the next day likewise also ride him strait forthright, & only stop and retire also, yet that day you shall carry an indifferent hand, which is to say, you shall bear him as much upon the Cannon as upon the Cavezan, as thus: when you draw up the reins of your bit, you shall let loose the reins of your cavesson, and when you draw down the reins of your Cavezan, you shall ease the reins of your bit, & with these equal and indifferent motions, you shall exercise him the second day, bringing him to a little more familiarity and acquaintance with the bit, yet ever preserving his mouth in all sweetness possible: When you have done thus two days together, you shall then the third day put him to the same exercise and no other, only you shall bear his head, for the most part upon the Cannon, and little or nothing at all upon the Cavezan, except in time of necessity, as to help him in turning, or to give sweetness to his mouth, least in resting his head too much upon the bit, his mouth should lose some part of its tenderness: by these three days exercises, the horse will grow both to understand the bit, and to take knowledge as well of the helps, as of the corrections, he will find pleasure in the curb, and a constant rest in his mouth whereon to settle and firm his head. Now for the Cavezan, this is the help that it bringeth; it is in correction and use of so near an alliance with the musrol and Martingall, bindiug and losing in the self sort that they do, so that the horse imagining he is within his former old bands, he dare neither toss up his head, nor duck it down, but bears it in the same constant manner which formerly he did, till beine acquainted with the bit, and finding the ease and staidness thereof, he will not then use any of those wild qualities, albe he have never so great liberty. Again the Cavezan is as ready a help in every turn as the Trench, and puts into the horses understanding the use of the curb, which way it bindeth when it moves a horse to turn upon the right hand, when upon the left, and the reins thereof, you shall use as you used the reins of your Trench, as thus. When you turn upon your right hand, you shall draw the left rain of your Cavezan firm, and lay it close to the left side of his neck, to keep his head and neck strait, and the right rain you shall draw a little more than ordinary, giving him as it were a warning of his turn, and so immediately ease it again. After these three days exercises, you shall then put your horse to the large rings in the self same manner as you did at his first breaking; as first pacing, then trotting, & lastly galloping, yet so that he be perfect in every one of them severally, before he proceed to other, & not troth before he can place readily, nor gallop till he can troth most perfectly. From two rings you shall put him to three, from three to four, and from four to one large ring, containing two smaller rings within it, all which are in their figures formerly described; and in all these rings as you labour your horse, you shall ever by little use your Cavezan less and less, and your bit more and more, till you have wrought in your horse this contrariety, that as at the first the Cavezan was of most use, and the bit but either a cipher or a very small help, so you must now bring your bit to be only of use, & the Cavezan to lie upon the horse's face to little or no purpose, by degrees, long labouring, and gentle motions, bringing your horse to such a perfect knowledge and delight in the bit, that when at any time you turn or change from hand to hand in your rings, you shall if you turn upon your right hand, no more but turn the thumb of your bridle hand which stands upright, but a little downwards, toward the right shoulder of the horse, and when you turn upon your left hand, you shall but turn your bridle hand a little backwards towards the left shoulder of the horse, the knowledge of which two motions the horse will suddenly learn, if at first teaching you ever accompany with them the use of the Cavezan in the very instant that you move your hands: you shall also make your horse so perfect upon the stop, that if he be in the fullness of his career, you shall not by any means draw your bridle hand above the height of your Saddle pommel, nor when you make him retire, you shall not draw your hand higher than half so far as at the stop, for the bit being an Engine of the greatest commandment, which raiseth up a horse; head and body, both in pace and other motion, with more ease than any other instrument; if therefore your strayninges, should be as hard upon it, as upon the Trench (which hath no violence more than what it takes from your hand) you could not choose but disorder, or else take from the horses mouth the best sense and feeling: therefore in any case let your strainings upon the bit be tender and temperate, yet not so very soft, but that both you and the Horse may have a full constant feeling of one another. Now for observations & notes in this first bytting of a Horse, there be many, as first when you have put the bit on, to look within the mouth of your horse, an● see whether your bit lie in his due place, than tha● the mouth of the bit be neither too big nor ●oo ●ittle for the Horse's mouth, but of a just proportion and fullness, for to be too big makes a horse gape, hurts his upper bars, and dulls his mouth, and to be too little makes a horse draw his tongue over the bit, thrust it out of his mouth, either of one side or other; and lastly (giving him no perfect feeling) takes from him all perfect tenderness. For them and other faults whatsoever, you may find remedies and alteration of mouths in the former chapter treating of bytts: you shall also observe that the Kurbe lie upon the neither lip, in his due place, yet so loose and without pressing, that albe your horse keep his teeth fast together, yet he may play with his neither lip upon the curb, which is a great sign of a sweet & tender mouth. Next these, you shall observe the shape of your horse, and if you find he have such a long, large, Swanne-like neck, that not withstanding the straightness of your bit cheek, which is only to put up his head, he yet bringeth it somewhat rounder than you would have him, & so looseth some part of the beauty of his rain, you shall then ride him with the broken cheek according to the second figure of cheeks, where the neither parts are broke more outward than the upper, & if one breach be not sufficient you may use two, if two fail, three doubtless will work your pleasure, & put up his neck so high as nature will give it leave, but if contrary to this shape, a horse have a short neck, and a narrow chaule, so that your strait cheek puts up his head high enough, but yet it bringeth not in his muzzle, nor boweth his neck to any proportion; In this case you shall ride him with the broken cheek, but the breach shall be made inward as the other was outward, & if one breach benot sufficient, you shall make two, or else three, till you have brought his head to the place you desire; you shall also observe, that by no means at the first byttting of a Horse you draw your bit r●shlye or suddenly; for that is the first occasion which makes a Horse thrust out his nose, and rebel against the bit, but taking leisure, and drawing the reins gently, gives him such a knowledge, that he will yield and follow the bit: which once used, he will never after contend. Now for the Cavezan, you shall observe, that if your horse be of hard head, and short neck, so that he presses & hangs upon this Cavezan of one peecc, which is of all the gentlest, you shall then instead thereof use the writhen cavesson, consisting of two pieces, which binding somewhat straighter, is of so much the more force in punishing, and breeds a quicker obedience. But if your horse have been before time in some ignorant horseman's hand, who for want of art to use gentle Cavezans, hath so dulled and hardened your horse's head, that neither of these Cavezans will prevail, nor bring lightness to your horse's head, then in such extremity you may use the other Cavezan, consisting of two pieces, with sharp teeth, or that which is of three pieces, so you have this diligent care, that by no means you either fridge hair, or take any skin from the horses face, which is a fault both disgraceful to the horse and man, to the horse, as taking away the beauty of his countenance, and to the man in showing the hard rudeness of his hand without either moderation or temper. The Chain with teeth, and the Chain with teeth and rings toothed, are both more sha●he than the former Cavezans, and may (where the rider hath so lady-soft a hand, as not to bruise or wound) be used in case of great extremity, and not otherwise. Now some that happily look not into the true method of my precepts, may task me of some opposititions or contrarieties in my writings, because in the second Chapter of this book, I there discommended all these sharp Cavezans, and yet in this Chapter do (after a certain sort) allow them; but they must carry in their memories these considerations, that I discommended them utterly as the first instruments or sterns wherewith to govern a Colt at his first backing without any other assistance; and I allow them after a horse is ready in every lesson fit for service in the wars, for the making him firm, steady, and perfit upon his bit, or where ignorance and a rude hand hath done hurt, there with art and cunning to amend those faults with the help of these instruments. Now when you have upon the smooth Cannon, and Cavezan, made your horse perfit and ready in all the lessons which are formerly taught; so that he will do them with a good grace, and a free spirit, you shall then lay away the Cavezan, and in stead thereof ride him with a smooth Cannon, and a flying Trench, according to the figure in the fourth Chapter, putting to the rings of the flying Trench a pair of false reins, answerable to the perfit reins of the Bridle, the carriage of which reins, are also showed in the same chapter, and keeping the proportion of the cheek as before. Upon this bit, and with these false reins you shall practise your horse both in large rings, straight turns, and all other lessons which are formerly taught in the self same manner, as you did with the Cannon and Cavezan, using the same helps, corrections, and observations which you did in the use of the Trench, Musroll, & Martingall, till your horse be so perfect, that a curious eye shall not judge he hath any other help in his motions then only your imagination; which less than two months will fully complete and perfit. At which time (if your horse be of full strength, spirit, and nimbleness) proceed to the other lessons, which are airs and saults above ground: and though not fully so necessary as the former for service in the wars, yet are they such, as not without profit may be practised in those places: And for the pleasure of Princes, and health of a man's body, are both delightful and commodious. CHAP. 21. Of bounding aloft, and the manner thereof. WHen you have made your horse perfit in all the lessons before taught: if then you find in him a natural iuclination to lightness, and a spirit both apt to apprehend and execute any salt above ground, as having both good limbs, & a clean strength. The next lesson you shall teach him, shall be to bond or rise above ground with all his four fee●, even and just together, carrying his head in a just and due place, without losing his rain: and gathering his body round and close together, rising & falling again in one and the self same place, which manner of bounding aloft is fittest and easiest to be taught at such place as you stop your horse, as thus for example; When you have trotted your horse a dozen or twenty yards forward in a sandy way, you shall there make him stop and advance at least twice together, observing ever that at his second advancing you give him the even stroke of both your spurs together, close by the hindmost girth, at which if at first he only but show amazement, or advance higher as not yet understanding your meaning: you shall then trot him as far forward again, and there (as you did before at his second advancement) give him the even stroke of your spurs a little harder than you did before, at which if he rise not, you shall then not only spur him again, but also give him a good iert with your rod under his belly, which putting him into a little more amazement, forthwith tro●tforwarde again, and as you did the second time, do so now the third time, only forbear your rod as much as is possible, because the correction thereof tends to another purpose, and it is your spurs which should only raise your Horse upon all four. When you have done thus three times together, do it the fourth, fifth, and sixth time, emetic time increasing your correction till hecraise all his four feet from the ground, which when so ever he doth, or how evil favouredlye soever he doth, yet notwithstanding cherish him exceedingly, and be assured that in twice or thrice bounding he will amend what fault soever was in his first beginning: and surely except he be a very dull jade, and so not fit for such practice, you shall not give him this help of your spur twice before he will bound from the ground upon all four. There be some Authors that would have a horse to do this bound or leap with the help of the calves of your legs, and not with the spurs, saying, that the calves of the legs will make a horse rise higher than the spurs, but the reason is neither good, nor the practice to be allowed. For if you make your horse bound with the help of the calves of your legs, than you make that help useless for all other purposes; so that when your horse should but advance, he will bond; when he should beat a turn, it will be all in bounds: and to conclude, he must either have spurre-galde sides, or else with every lesson he must mix boundings, which being both unfit, and out of order, you shall only follow the course first prescribed. There be some horsemen, that when their horses do bound, would have them in the same motion also to yark out their hinder legs; as an air both full of art and comeliness. As touching yarking behind, and the way to bring your horse unto it, I have sufficiently written already in the sixteenth Chapter: Wherefore, if in this lesson also you would have him yark, you shall do no more but in the very height of his bounding, give him every time a good ierte with your rod under the belly, to which after he is any long time accustomed, and doth understand your meaning, he will grow so perfit, that he will never bound, but he will yerk withal, albe you neither give him help nor correction. Now for observations in this lesson, besides the beauty and comeliness of his rain, there are but two any thing material; the first is, that if he rise not so high with his hinder parts, as with his forepartes, that you accompany with the help of your spurs, a good iert with your rod under the horse's belly, as near the flank as you can strike it. The second is, that if in his bounding he do not keep his ground but press forward as if he strove how far he could leap, & not how high he could leap, that in such a case, look how much ground he gets in his leap, that so much you make him retire back; and being come to his first place, there make him bound again. Now for the use of this lesson, it is thus: if when you ride your horse before any great assembly, upon the finishing up ofeverie lesson, whether it be Ring-turne, Manage, Strait-turnes of all sorts, or what lesson soever; if upon every stop and conclusion, (as the last of all labour) you make your horse bound and yerk out with all, it is most comely; if you shall set the turn Terra, Terra, altogether upon bounds and yarkings out behind, (as I have seen divers horses do) especially a red Roaned horse of the Earl of Southhamptons', it not only shows in the Horse a good courage, clean strength, and a strong chine, but in the horseman a ready hand, a quick leg and a most perfect seat: And thus much for bounding aloft or leaping. CHAP. 22. Of the Curvet, Caprioll, gallop Galliard, and going sidelong. THis air or salt which we call Curvet, albe it be derived from the Spanish word Corua, which is the hinder heel of a horse, yet we have the best precedents for the doing thereof from the ancient Italians the motion is a kind of dancing which the horse is made to use by taking his forelegs a good height from the ground, and his hinder legs not half so much, prancing up and down all in one place, and in the fierceness of his countenance & carriage of his body, seeming as though he would run, and yet is restrayined. The labour thereof, albe he take his forefeet up higher, consisteth most in his hinder parts, because he must couch and bow them more nimbly, and also press them down the harder. The manner to bring him unto it is thus: having trotted him forth right in some sandy high way, at least a dozen paces; stop him, & with the help of the calves of your legs, make him there advance three or four times together, all in one place; then trot him as far further, and there make him advance at least a dozen times, continuing thus to make him advance at the end of every dozen paces, sometimes six times sometimes eight timessomtimes more, till in the end you feel him lift up his hinder parts; which if he do heavily or slowly, you shall then with your rod iert him under the belly, yet so tenderly, that the noise thereof may more move spirit in him, than the smart, by means whereof he will instantly take both his hinder feet from the ground, and as he advanceth before, so he will also move his hinder parts, and keep a prancing with both parts indifferently. Now if you find that in his doing of the Coruett he stand too upright upon his loins, and do not bow as he ought, you shall then teach him the Coruett upon the Knowle of some hill, his head being turned down the descent. Now whereas the Italians (from the imitation of the Spaniards) do in the Curvet, use to ride shorter than in any other lesson, and to that purpose have set down certain precepts, I for mine own part do not like such rules, neither would have any man alter his stirrups from their true place: for what lesson soever will not be done with the help of the leg in his best carriage, is either a lesson unfit to be taught, or else doth carry in it the use of some barbarous correction. After your horse is perfect in his Curvet, the next air you shall teach him is that salt which Grison and the other Italians call Caprioll, and we here in England the goats leap. It differeth from the Curvet a great deal more in motion then in teaching, for whereas the Coruett is an air only to be done as it were in one place, and the hinder feet not to rise any thing near so high as the fore seete, the Capriol contrarily is an airy altogether to be done forward, and the hinder parts ever to rise in equal height with the fore parts, the manner to teach your horse to do it is in this fort; you shall ride him upon some sandy or gravellye earth, and there stopping him, you shall make him advance twice or thrice together, than you shall troth him not above a step or two at the most, & there make him advance twice more; then another step or two and advance again. And thus advancing at the end of every two steps for the space of thirty or forty paces going, you shall bring him to such a custom, and lightness in his advancing, that in the end instead of the two steps, he will with the help of the calf of your leg, raise up his rump and hinder parts, and so pass from stop to stop in advancing before, and persuites behind of one equal height and order; in which if you find he any thing at all sticketh, and doth not raise his hinder parts so high as you would have him, you shall then turn your rod in your hand with the point backward, just over the midst of the horses rump, and your hand close against your right side, then when he advanceth; in his passage forward you shall shake your rod over his rump, and now and then jert him upon the same, making him thereby to gather up his loins from the earth, and to pass with better comeliness. But if either out of his heavy composition, or stubbornness of his nature, this gentle correction do not avail; you shall then ride your horse into some narrow hollow high way, where he cannot fly out of either side, or into some old dry dyke, and there as you practise him in the same lesson, you shall cause a slander by to come behind you with a long instrument of iron in his hand, bowed at one end, and having therein like a great extraordinary rowel of a Spur; which instrument is called a Peerch, & is made after the fashion of this figure following in the next page. The Perch. With this Perch the slander by shall strike your horse upon the rump, and make him raise up his hinder parts, whilst yourself shall only but help him with the calves of your legs, & the forward ierte with your stirrup leathers: and thus doing but too or three mornings together, you shall never after need any other help, more than your rod turned backward, or the sound of your voice crying hay, hay, or How, How. The next lesson to this, is the gallop Galliard, which Grison demonstrateth to be done upon The gallop Galliard. the gallop, as thus: putting him into a lusty strong gallop to cause him at the end of every two paces of the gallop to bond aloft, and yerk out his hinder legs with all, and so to do for the space of twenty paces or more, according to the strength of the horse, and this, from the derivation of the word gallop-galliard is very probable; yet with us this lesson is not of such use, but we rather do it in the Coruette or Caprioll, as thus: after your horse hath beaten the coruett three times together, then giving him the even stroke of both your spurs, and a good ierte with your rod to make him bound aloft, and yerk out withal, and so do for a dozen bounds together, or so many as his strength may conveniently endure: and so likewise in the Capriole after he have made three leaps, then to give him both your spurs together, and the iert with your rod, and so make him bound and yerk withal, doubling these leaps and bounds according to his strength. These lessons are all very forcible, and beat a horses limbs exceedingly, wherefore you are to use them very seldom, and to teach them to none but such horses as are both courageous, active, and strong, to whom nature hath been so good a mistress, that your art shall not create, but keep in exercise what he brought, even from the womb of his dam. The next and last lesson you shall teach your horse, is to go sidelong, both with his fore parts and hinder parts in equal motions, as far as youwill, & as little a wayas you will: and though I place it here the last amongst those lofty airs and high faults, yet it is as necessary as any other lesson whatsoever, being both of great use in the wars, and of much delight in the place of pleasure; yet, should it be taught before other lessons be perfected, it is of that nature, that it would breed disorder: wherefore to bring your horse unto it, you shall thus do: as you ride him upon some plain piece of ground, if you would have him to go sidelong to your right hand, you shall turn your bridle hand a little over to his right shoulder, and lay your left leg close to his side, so that he may not only feel your leg but your spur also, yet in such sort that your spur do not prick him, and if at the first he will not remove his legs, you shall continue still to hold your leg close, and let him feel the spur more and more; if then he remove contrary to your mind, that is, rather to the left hand then to the right, you shall not respect it but still keep your leg close, and increase your correction till in the end he begin to remove his legs right: which as soon as ever you perceive, immediately take away your leg, cherish him, & make him a while stand still. After a little pause, do as you did before, exercising him therein, till with the least motion of your single leg he will go sidelong as far as you will have him: this done, you shall make him do as much to his left side, by turning your bridle hand a little backward, & laying your right leg close to the horses side. When your horse will thus go sidelong of which side you will, you shall then by oft practising him therein, make him go side long so fast, as if he did even troth, which is both graceful and profitable; but if in this lesson you find his foreparts (because they are much the nimbler) to go faster sidelong then his hinder parts, so that he draws his hinder parts after him, In this case youshall turn the point of your rod downward, cross overthwart his houghs beneath his thighs, and lay it close unto them, and if at the feeling thereof, he do not presently amend his fault, you shall then give him a good iert▪ or two o'erthwart his houghs and that will make him bring on his hinder parts roundly. When thus your horse will perfectly go sidelong off which hand you please, you may then by the help of your contrarielegge, and a little more firm carrying of your bridle hand, make your horse both Curvet and pass the Caprioll sidelong to which hand you please, which is a salt much used amongst the Italians, yet for mine own part I would have it practised but seldom, because in my conceit the best grace that those airs carry, is when they are done strait forward, for than they show their best shapes, and the truest Art in the horseman, aproveing that his legs keep one even time in their motions, and give one equal sense in their touchinges; where should he do rudely, that is, strike one leg harder than another, or move one leg faster than another, why these disorders are the means which will make a horse do these airs sidelong as well as the use of the best art. Now to conclude: in these lessons, & all other you are diligently to observe true time & measure in your doings, neither showing fury or amazement in too much haste, nor want of Art or agility in too much sloth or dullness, but holding as your chief jewel this golden treasure, excellent Mediocrity. And thus much for these lessons of pleasure. CHAP. 23. Of running at the Ring, and the use of the Lance. WHen your horse is completely perfected, in all the former lessons of service and pleasure, and that by labour and Art you have brought your work to a wished end, it then remains that you make use of the benefit of your former labours; either if you live in the land of peace by employing your horse for the exercise of your body, and sometimes for your benefit in travail as occasion shall be ministered, or if you live in the place of action, by putting him to service, and the encounter of your enemies. Yet by the way I must give you this one note more, which is, you must understand that the Cannon bytts formerly described, being mouths of such exceeding smoothenes and fullness, if you shall either travel your horse thereupon in long journeys, or use them in the trouble and turmoil of the wars, where the overplus of exercise brings a horse to a certain faintness and weariness; In any of these cases, the horse being compelled to rest much upon these full smooth mouths, will in the end grow both dull, insensible, and hard of mouh, wherefore as soon as you have perfected your horse in all his lessons and brought his head and rain to a settled constancy, you shall then according as you find the temper of the horses mouth, bit him with either Scatch, melon, Pear, Campanell, or some other mouth formerly described unto you, fashioning the cheek thereof according to the third figure of cheeks formerly described; only the length thereof must be according to the proportion of the horses neck, for if the horse have along upright neck, and his head rest comely upon the same, than the cheek would be two inches short of the highest part of his breast, but if his neck be short and upright, or long and round bending a little downward, than the neither part of your bit check must come full to the upper part of his breast, but no lower. Your horse being thus bitted and well settled upon this bit, if you have a delight in the exercise of arms, and the use of the Lance, it shall be good for you to practise twice or thrice a week to run at the ring, that is, to set a small ring ofyron about eight inches in compass at the most, either upon the top of a tilt bar, or upon a staff six foot from the ground, close by the midst of the furrow, where you pass your Career, & then standing with your horse & your Lance in your hand, 45. paces or more from the ring, try how near you can go to run your staff thorough the ring as your horse passeth his Career. Now for as much as in this lesson, there be many nice and curious observations, and also great art both in the government of your horse and of your hand, and for as much as this lesson being truly and artificially learned, containeth all other lessons whatsoever wherein the Lance is employed, I will (according to mine own experience & instruction) show the manner thereof, wherein if either I fail in art or garb, I humbly submit to the correction of those of better judgement, hoping that albe I show not all things in their best perfection, yet I will show nothing which shall carry in it any gross absurdity. Now therefore if you will practise to run at the ring, after you have placed your ring in his due place, (which should ever be ●the midst of your Career) your horse then being brought to the field, to the end of the Career. As soon as you come unto him, you shall ere you mount look that your bridle and bit be in their due places, that your Saddle be fast girt, and your Crupper buckled at his just length; then taking the reins of your Bridle into your left hand, holding them as hath been formerly taught you: you shall then mount upon his back, and then placing yourself just, even and upright in your Saddle, with your feet firm upon your Stirrups and your toes bending rather inward then outward, Some by-stander shall then deliver into your right hand a Lance, which you shall receive by no part but that, which is purposely made for your hand. As soon as you have received the Lance, you shall place the butt end thereof upon the midst of your right thigh, bearing the point thereof strait & upright, so as the outside of your Lance may answer the outside of your right eye, only the point thereof must a little thought lean forward. Being thus seated in your saddle, & your Lance thus truly placed you shall then put forth your horse, and place him to the end of the Career where you intent to start, and there make him stand still, and pause a good space, during which rest you shall conceive in your mind four lines which you shall imagine to pass from your Lance to the ring. The first an even strait line from the neither end of your Lance or mid thigh, which answering the height of your horse, passes in one evennes to the ring, & serves for a demonstration of the straightness of the furrow wherein you run, or the evenness of the tilt bar, in which furrow or bar should there be any crookedness, there could not choose but in the running be disorder. The second line you are to conceive is from your right eye or thick part of your Lance, to the very centre of the ring, from which your eye in running must not serve. The third line is a direct line downward from the point of your Lance to the centre of the ring, and your fourth line is from the point of your Lance also to the centre of your ring, but it is divided into three parts: the first third part (which is at the start of the Career) being a strait even line, the length whereof you must carry your Lance in an even line without bending, being from the taking your Lance from your thigh to the uttermost putting out of your hand, & it must contain a third part of your half Career; the second third part is a line bending inward, & is from the putting out of your hand to the bringing of your hand to your Rest, & it containeth a second third part of your half Carrier, the last third part of this fourth line is a little more descending then the second, and is from the bringing of your Lance to the Rest, to the very touching or taking of the Ring. The proportion and fashion of which lines for your better satisfaction, you shall behold in this figure following in the next page. After you have taken these lines into your consideration, and from the level of your eye, taken the direct line from your eye to the ring, you shall then start your horse into his Career, yet by no means suddenly, or with any fury, but first putting him forward a step or two gently, than thrust him fourth into his Career, and as soon as he is started, you shall take your Lance from your thigh, & putting your arm outward, bring your hand down as low almost as your mid thigh, your arm being stretched out to the uttermost length, and held outward from your body, the point of your Lance being still kept in an even line: this being your first motion must continue doing, the first third part of your course. Then must you turn your hand from your wrist forward leisurely inward; and holding your elbow outward, bring in that part of your arm from the elbow to the hand, close to your breast where your Rest should stand, and as you bring in your arm, so you shall descend the point of your Lance a second third part nearer to your Ring, and this being your second motion, must continue doing the second third part of your course. Then your Lance being brought to your Rest, you shall by lifting up, and keeping open your elbow from your body, and by putting down your thumb and fore part of your hand descend the point of your Lance softly down till it fall as it were into the ring: which being your third motion must continue doing the last third part of your course: and thus having taken the Ring, you shall run your Horse to the end of the Career, raising your staff again to his former place, with the same three motions, that is, the first taking your staff from your Rest, The second to bring your hand to your thigh, and the third to bring up the neathermoste end of your Lance upon your thigh, as it was before you started: And these three latter motions you shall do so speedily, that they shall all three be finished in one third part of the course, running the other two parts of the course out, with your Lance on your thigh gallantly, and when you come to the utmost end of the Career, you shall therestoppe your horse close, firm and just, making him advance once or twice, and then after a little pause, to turn him about, and set his head forward again towards the ring as he was before: so that if you please, you may pass another Career back again to the place where you first started, doubling your courses as you find strength in your horse and ability in your own body. Thus you see the whole substance of art in this course at the Ring; is contained in three distinct motions, the first in discharging your Lance from your thigh, the second bringing it up to the Rest, (which is on your breast against your right pap) and the third, the fine descending down of the point of your Lance, till it meet with the mark whereat you run. Where it is to be noted, that after you have once started your horse, & begun to discharge your staff from your thigh, you shall not stay or rest, but as if all your motions were but one motion, be continually moving, till your Lance even as it descends, fall just into the Ring. You shall also observe that by no means you couch your Lance lower than the ring, & so bring it back up again to take the ring, for that is an error of great grossness; neither shall you turn your hand so much in to your left side that you put your Lance wide of either hand the ring, and then bring it back again to hit the ring, for that is almost as ill as the other; you shall observe that you carry your elbow, and that part of your arm from your elbow to your shoulder of one just height, giving your hand liberty to govern your Lance every way, and not by thrusting down your elbow to hug, or gripe your Lance, whereby it shall be carried in an even line, just from your right shoulder, and so not come near the ring by divers yards, because the ring is ever placed wide of your left shoulder, this fault you shall amend only by carrying up and open your elbow, and so by turning in your hand, charge your Lance directly over the left ear of your horse, which (the length of your Lance considered) will carry it directly upon the ring which stands a little wider upon your left hand: you shall also observe that in the passage of the Career, you sit fast, firm and upright in your saddle: neither bending so much forward, that (like an ordinary horse runner) you lose the beauty of your person, nor bending so much backward that the horse may seem to carry you away contrary to your will and liking; or to your great disadvantage, when either in triumphs you shall be called to run at the Tilt, or in the field, when with your Lance you shall encounter with your enemy: for you must understand that both running at the ring and tilting have one and the self same motions, helps and observations: and he that can hit a ring of five or six inches, cannot miss a man of much greater quantity. But sitting gallantly and uprightly, you shall only turn your right shoulder a little thought more inward than your left. Lastly, you shall observe to carry your bridle hand close under the pommel of your Saddle, somewhat lower than the midst, neither giving the reins such liberty that you shall have no feel of the horses head, nor restraining them so hard, that he cannot run fourth with his greatest courage, but holding an indifferent mean, force your horse with spur and leg to pass his carreire with all speed possible, and in such sort, that when you come to the stop, you may not draw up your bridle hand above the top of the Saddle pommel, nor seem in that motion either to have your seat troubled, or to bend your body backward; and in the whole passage of the career, if you run either alongst a wall, or a tilt bar, you shall turn your bridle hand a little backward towards your left side, to keep your horses forepartes close to the wall or bar, and when by your horse's sloth occasion is given you, you shall spur your horse rather upon the right side, which is from the bar then on the left side next to the bar. Now for as much as both the former motions, and these observations will seem exceeding difficult to an unexperienced hand, And forasmuch as Tilt bars & places convenient for his practice are ever about the Palaces of Princes, where is continual concourse of people, to whomscollers at first are loath to prostitute their ignorance: If therefore you would practise in a more private manner, it shall not be amiss for you then in some remote piece of ground, which is both level and hath good foot-holde, by setting up strong stakes and such like stays, first to pass one line or strong rope from the height of your mid thigh as you sit on horsbackes, the whole length of a career, which may serve as the figure of at bar, then in the midst thereof, to set up your Ring, of the height formerly described in this Chapter: then shall you by the help of higher stakes pass another smaller line from your eye or mid Lance, just to the centre of the Ring; then by the help of two long Poles, pass a third small line from the top of your Lance (as it stands upon your thigh) to the centre of your Ring also, carrying the first third part of that line in an even straightness, and the other two parts descending, according to the figure before showed. And when you have thus placed your lines, you may then (as if you were at a tilt bar) start your horse into his Career, and by the directions of the lines direct the motions of your Lance, till by continual use and practise, you become so cunning, that you are able to do every motion to a hair, without any assistance, either of line, or other model, more than the skill only of your hand and body, which you shall do much the better, and sooner attain unto, if you cause some man of good understanding (to whom you have declared both the beauties & faults of the course) to stand by you in your first practice, & without flattering you, to tell what faults you commit in every course, which when you know, you must by labour and industry reform, till you come to the full perfection you wish for. And thus much for this warlike and noble practice. CHAP. 24. Of the teaching of young scholars: and the riding of a ridden horse to the best show. ALthough the precepts and rudiments formerly expressed in this book, may bring a man (if he be of good courage, wit, memory and activity) that was never trained up in the rules of horsemanshippe, to frame a horse to some indifferent fashion of good riding: yet for as much as the rules are very intricate, horses natures and conditions exceeding various, and the motions a man must use full of art and contrarietic, so that it is impossible without some instruction into the art: some construction of the art, and some long practice how to do with art, but a man must spoil and mar many horses ere he attain to the making of one, which to eschew, I would advise every noble spirit, of what quality soever he be, not to meddle with the making of any young horse, till he have from some good horseman learned how to ride a ridden horse; wherefore to give you some taste of the rules of a hors-schoole, which like an A. B C. or primer, & not like a Grammar may prepare you, and make you more capable of better demonstrations, I will in this Chapter set you down some principal observations. First therefore, when you begin to learn to ride, you must come to the Stable, in such decent and fit apparel, as is meet for such an exercise, that is to say, a hat which must sit close and firm upon your head, with an indifferent The horseman's apparel narrow verge or brim, so that in the faults or bounds of the horse, it may neither through wideness, or unwieldiness fall from your head, nor with the breadth of the brim fall into your eyes, and impeach your sight, both which are very gross errors. About your neck you shall wear a falling band, and no ruff, whose depth or thickness, may either with the wind, or motions of your horse, ruffell about your face; or according to the fashion of the Spaniards, dance Hobby-horse-like about your shoulders, which though in them it is taken for a grace, yet in true judgement it is found an error. Your doublet shall be made close and handsome to your body, large wasted, so that you may ever be sure to ride with your points trussed (for to ride otherwise is most wild) and in all parts so easy, that it may not take from you the use of any part of your body. About your waste you must have ever your girdle, and thereon a small dagger or punniard, which must be so fast in the sheath that no motion of the horse may cast it forth, and yet so ready, that upon any occasion you may draw it. Your hose would be large, round, and full, so that they may fill your saddle, which should it otherwise be empty and your body look like a small substance in a great comasse, it were wondrous uncomely. Your boots must be clean, black, long, and close to your leg, coming almost up to your mid thigh, so that they may lie as a defence betwixt your knee and the tree of your saddle. Your boothose must come some two inches higher than your boots, being handsomely tied up with points. Your spurs must be strong and flat inward, bending with a compass under your ankle: the neck of your spur must be long and strait, and rowels thereof large and sharp, the pricks thereof not standing thick together, nor being above five in number. Upon your hands you must wear a handsome pair of Gloves, and in your right hand you must have a long rod finely rush-growne, so that the small end thereof be hardly so great as a round packthread, insomuch that when you move or shake it, the noise thereof may be loud and sharp. Being thus accoutred like a Gentleman and a horseman, and the horse (on which you are to ride should be very ready) perfit, and stayed in all lessons Ascollers' first mounting. whatsoever, doing them with an extraordinary pride and loftiness: being brought to the block, where you shall get up, you shall before you come to the block, put off your spurs; because having not learned the use of your legs, you cannot know the use of your spurs: and then mounting the block, turning your left side close to the shoulder of your horse, with your back rowardes his head, and your face towards his buttocks, you shall take up the bit reins into your left hand, and place your hand and fingers as is showed you before in the fourth chapter of this Book: Which done, you shall take the remainder of your reins up in the right hand, which stretching out to their uttermost length, you shall pull so even that one of the cheeks of your bit shall not hang cider then the other, and withal draw your bit to such a limit, that with the straightness thereof your horse shall not offer to go back, nor with the looseness offer to go forward. When you have thus assured your bit, and the reins thereof, you shall with your left hand placed close upon the Saddle pommel (standing in the manner aforesaid) lift up your left foot, and put it into the stirrup, neither so far that your stirrup may beat against your shin, not so little a way that you shall be forced to get up by the strength of your toes only; but indifferently, a little short of the hollowness of the sole of your foot: which done, you shall without any heavings, or antic shows (as if you would leap over your horses back) gently and with an active nimbleness raise up your body, by laying your right hand upon the hinder croope of the saddle, and bringing your right leg in an orderly circle or compass, set your whole body firm and just in the midst of the Saddle, where contrarily, should you stand with your face and breast against the Saddle, and so bring up your body and right leg, you would not only with your weight and force, hazard the pulling of the saddle under the horse's belly, but also your motion would be so ill favoured and slovenly, that in appearance you would look like a Thatcher that were climbing up a Ladder. When you are handsomely seated in your saddle, that The scholars seat, is, when you have placed the hinder parts of your buttocks fast against the hinder part of your Saddle, the neither part of your belly against the forepart of your Saddle, and both your knees hard and firm under each of the fore Pillows of the Saddle, and when you have again stretched out your Bridle reins, and made both the bit cheeks of an even sidenesse, you shall then by moving your feet forward, put forth your horse softly a pace or two from the block, and there again stand still whilst thee groom doth buckle up both the stirroppes close under the skirts of the Saddle: for you must understand, that till you have gotten the perfectness and certainty of your seat, and that you have out of your practice and judgement, found when and where you sit most sure, where most unsure, fortifying yourself in that which you find the best, there is nothing more hurtful then to ride with stirrups, and the reason is, because (till you have found your seat) you will so much trust upon your stirrups, that when the horse shall do any thing roughly, you will with pressing your feet violently upon them, either (if you ride long) lose the place, and fast hold of your knees, or else (if you ride short) raise your whole body from the Saddle in a most uncomely manner. And again, the stirrup being to the horse both a help and a correction; if till you know how to carry and use your legs, you should by any means wear them, your ignorance and unskilful motions, would sometimes correct, where there were no cause, & some times help where there were need of correction, all which to prevent, you must patiently endure a while to ride without stirrups. When your stirroppes are thus buckled up, The scholars lessons. and you seated as aforesaid, you shall then (carrying your rod upright by your right shoulder, or cross your breast up by your left shoulder; the first presenting the lance, the latter the sword, & your legs strait, your heels and toes of one even height, and your-toes turned a little inward toward the horse's shoulder) put forth your horse, and trot him with a good grace to the place of riding; where having the figures of your rings formerly made, so as you may plainly discern them, you shall then first trot one large Ring three times about upon your right hand bowing your bridle hand a little downward towards the horses right shoulder: & if the horse be very slothful or hard to turn about, you shall then give him a good iert with your rod over theleft shoulder: when you have trotted three times about upon your right hand, you shall then by turning your bridle hand a little backward towards the horses left shoulder, troth another large ring three times about upon your left hand; which done, changing your bridle hand again, you shall troth three times more upon your right hand: and then being come to the place where you first began, you shall there by drawing your bridle hand even up almost to the top of the saddle pommel, make the horse stop close and firm: which done, after a little pause, you shall by drawing in your bridle hand, make him retire back: then easing your hand, let him stand still, & cherish him. This lesson you shall repeat over five or six times in a morning, till you be so perfit that you can do it with a good grace, carrying your head, body, hands, legs, and every other member in their due place without disorder (as is formerly showed you, which that you may attain to with more certainty and less omission, it is good, if you want a schoolmaster, to let some man of discretion to whom you have declared your obseruatie on's you are to keep, to stand in the centre of your rings, and to tell you of all your faults; as when either your body, head, legs or hands, move in any uncomely order, by which you shall as easily correct them, as if you ●ada skilful master by you. When you have made perfect your first lesson, you shall then after you have trotted your rings about, by the moving of your body and legs forward with a lively spritines, thrust your horse into his gallop, and in the same manner as you trotted your rings, you shall now gallop them, observing in your galloping the same uprightness ofbodie, constancy of hand, and comeliness of legs, which you did in trotting: the slander by continually telling you of your escapes and errors. But if in this lesson of galloping, your horse show any slothfulness, you shall revive him with a good iert or two of your rod on the contrary shoulder: and if he take not up his feet nimbly and truly, you shall give him a good clap or two with the calves of your legs upon his sides: and when in his gallop you stop him, you shall lay the calves of your legs to his side, and make him advance. This lesson when you have got so perfectly by long practice and reformation, that you can do it cunningly without any disorder, your next lesson shall be to practise to set the turn Terra, Terra, which you shall do first by walking your horse in a narrow ring, the compass whereof is before set down, & having walked your horse three or four times about on your right hand, you shall draw up your bridle reins, and clapping the calf of your left leg close and hard to the horses side, make him advance, and then with your body helping him forward, make him bear the ring round about, helping him in every advance with the calf of your leg, & in his going forward with your body, & the sound of your voice, by crying hay, hay, or how, how: & when he hath finished his turn, thrust him into his trot by easing your hand, & then stop him, & cherish him. This lesson you must practise till you have it so perfect that you can make your horse do it with the least feeling of your leg that may be, & you must always observe in this lesson, that when you begin to raise your horse, you ever let your out most leg (which is the leg of help, fall near to the horses side, so that when you help your horse, the motion may be fetched so small away that a by slander may not behold it, and you shall make your horse do this lesson more cheerfully if in every motion of the horse you shake your rod over the horses ears, that he may hear the noise, but in any case, as you shake your rod, keep your arm and elbow close to your side, & not let your arm (as if you had not the government thereof) fly at foul liberty, both to your own disgrace and the breach of your horse's time in his lessons, which is so carefully to be regarded, and is by nothing sooner broke then by the least disorder of your body, arms, legs, or other members. After you have made all these lessons perfect, so that you can do them with a good grace, you may then adventure both to put on your spurs, and to wear your Stirrups,, the uses, helps, and corrections of both which, and the times when you shall employ them, are already sufficiently declared; so that for any lesson you are to practise after you come to wear spurs and stirrups, as namely Manages of all kinds, the Coruett Caprioll and other airs above ground, I refer you to the former Chapters, where the manner of doing them is amply enough set down; so that this which I have already writ, I think will be sufficient to satisfy any ingenious scholar, who desirous to be a Horseman, is compelled to be his own tutor. Now when you find that you are able to ride a ridden horse, both with good art and comeliness, if then it shall be your chance to ride either in any assembly, or in the presence of some great Potentate, it is not unnecessary for you to know how in such a case to behave yourself, and how to put your Horse to the best show. If therefore you shall come to ride your horse before a man of worth; if you have liberty to choose your ground, you shall choose such a place as you may have a pretty short managing furrow in the same, and the man of reputation to stand a little distant from the midst thereof. Then you being mounted and seated in good fashion, you shall troth forth your horse in the very pride and gallantry of his pace, and as you pass by the person of esteem; if he be either Prince, Nobleman, or a man of great place, you shall as you trot by him, with an humble bowing down of your body towards the Crest of your horse; do him solemn reverence, and then raising your body up strait again, you shall pass to the end of your short furrow, where you shall presently set the turn Terra, Terra, single once about, and then putting your horse into the Capryol bring him in those high faults down the strait furrow again, till you come against the person of note where presently by the stay of your hand, you shall put your Horse into the Coruett, and so as it were in slow motions dance before him a little space. Then (if he be a Horse of great courage) put him into to the gallop Galliard, till he come to the other end of the furrow, and there setting another single turn Terra, Terra, at the closing up thereof, and when the Horse's head is toward the great person, you shall make him bound aloft upon all four, and yerk out his hinder feet withal, and so stand still till he have taken new breath, yourself rubbing him upon the neck with the great end of your rod which a horse takes great delight in, and is indeed a great cherishing. This done, if you be assured of his strength, and good wind, you shall troth him towards the great person, & there casting an indifferent ring about upon your right hand, you shall beat the Carogolo or Snaile-turne, & when you come into the centre, where the horse turns upon all sour, you shall not there stay him or bring him fourth of the ring, but changing your hand you shall cause him to make as many strait turns upon your left hand, and then as before you did by degrees straighten your rings on your right hand, so you shall now enlarge them upon your left hand, keeping one due time & measure, till you come to the place where you first began your turn, where for the finishing up of the work, you shall make your horse bound aloft, & yerk with all, & then stand still with your face opposed against the great person. This done, (after your horse hath taken breath) you shall make him retire back very swiftly, than you shall troth him forward again, even close to the great person; than you shall make him go very swiftly sidelong from him, than you shall make him come sidelong almost to him again. When you have done all this, if in your horse still remain good strength, it shall not be amiss if you manage him up and down for some two turns at most upon a hand, upon a lofty gallop, & in a furrow not above 16. yards at the most: then stopping him directly against the person of estate, do him again solemn reverence, & so depart; for these lessons do contain all lessons whatsoever, how ever the face of them do alter) and all art & skill that can possible be included in this manner of riding, so far forth as either mine experience understands, or my wit is able to deliver: both which I will prostitute & humbly yield to the control and censure of our famous and well known horsemen, but armed with all violence possible against fools, parasites and men of ostentation. The end of the second Book. CAVELARICE OR That part of Arte wherein is contained the choice, training, and dieting of hunting Horses, whether it be for pleasure or for wager. The third Book. LONDON Printed for Ed. White, and are to be sold at his shop near the little North door of Saint Paul's Church at the sign of the Gun. 1607. TO THE MOST NOble and most mighty Lord, Lewes Duke of Lennox, Earl of Darnley, Baron of Tarbanton and Methuen, great Chamberlain and Admiral of Scotland, & Knight of the most noble order of the Garter. THe greatest and most excellent name which the famous Poet Virgil could find out wherewith to adorn the most renowned King Picus, was to call him a horseman: & that the Pegasian horse was not only feigned to be begotten by the son of Neptune, but also to be the first founder of the learned well and the art of memory: then I doubt not but this famous Art of horse manship, which with my best endeavours I have carefully collected, will in your graces most noble thoughts find both defence and acceptance; and rather sith it is an Art wherein I hold your grace as excellent as any prince in Christendom; & is such on ornament of state, that there is no active greatness unblemished which pleadeth absolute ignorance in so royal a profession. Now albe this part of horseman, ship, which I consecreate to your noble name, be not contained within the rules or principles of the Iralian or french riders (who albe they can ride well, yet are ignorant how to make a horse ride long) yet your grace whose daily experience and knowledge both of the worth and use of these hunting horses can best judge the profit of the art as well in pleasure, as in urgent occasions will I hope neither esteem my labour vain, nor fruitless, for the country wherein I live: & strengthening that hope with the noble favours which you extend to your admirers, I live to be commanded by you. Gervase Markham. To all Huntsmen and lovers of Hunting. THere is not any pleasure (Gentlemen) in the judgement of my sense, which I can allow to be held equal with hunting, both for the full satisfaction it gives to the mind and body, and also for the noble figures and imitations it carries in the exercise of the delight, as long as it is accompanied with his true members, which is a ready sent; perfect Dogs, and above all a pure wound horse: for if he be wanting, the other not observing the leisure of your footsteps, will fly so fast from you, that there will be left nothing but imagination to content you; which to prevent, and that you may enjoy your delight without impeachment, I have published this work; which being purposely framed for a general good, and not a private use (as my first little treatise was) will (I doubt not) give you all that reasonable satisfaction, which is requisite to be desired either in this or any thing belonging to this part of horsemanship, wherein as you shall reap profit, so let me be repaid with thanks, that when you have what you wish, I may not want what I desire: and so farewell. G. M. CAVELARICE. The third Book. CHAP. 1. Of hunting Horses in general, and of their chases. OF all the field pleasures wherewith old Time and man's invention hath blest the hours of our recreations, there is none so excellent or so worthily to be pursued as the delight of hunting, being compounded like an harmonious consort of all the best parts of most refined pleasure, as Music, Dancing, Running, Riding, Hawking, and such like; nay, what house sport is it which hath not from it some imitation; as Chess, Cards, Tables, or any such like, where there is pursuit one after another: It is the figure of a well composed battle where the stronger chaseth the weaker to the point of destruction: It resembleth the state of a good commonwealth, where the virtue of the Magistrates pursue and find out the evil paths of their contraries: and to conclude, being the best of sports, what should a man say more than that it is most excellent. But letting pass the main body of the pastime, let us return to the principal member of the same, which is the hunting Horse, whose strength and puissance carries our bodies and enriches both our eyes, ears, and other senses, with all the delights that are therein contained. This hunting horse both for his virtue, strength, goodness, and endurance, I place next to the horse of service, for two causes. First, because themselves both for their courages, lineaments, and educations are serviceable in the wars, & in all other places: in the wars, as in sudden and desperate exploits, as upon surprises, Ambascados, long marches, or such like: or upon discoveries, scouts, or any thing else wherein either the strength of body, purity of wind, and the puissance of his metal is to be discerned; In the land of peace, as upon the necessity of some long & tedious journey, wherein either a man's life or estate is engaged; or for a man's pleasure in this sport of hunting, or for his profit, where a man hath tied himself to any great match or wager: in any of these cases it is almost a thing incredible to speak, what a good Horse being rightly dieted and kept (and therewithal orderly trained) will perform, but that in this Island of great Britain we have before our eyes continual and daily witness; and yet I must needs say, that if the records of ancient writers be true, these horses in our days are nothing so tough and enduring as were the horses of former ages: for one author writes, that the Sarmaria●s being intended to take upon them any longiourney, would keep their horses fasting for two days before, but only for a little comfortable drink, and then would gallop them an hundred and fifty miles without breathing: others tell us other tales of as much incredulity, of the Horses of Scythia, Greece, and Barbary, by which we may gather, that questionless Horses have endured labours beyond imagination; and truly in these our days should a man but compute and measure the many miles, the rugged and deep ways, and the intricate and winding passages which a hunting Horse passeth in a day in one of our English hunting matches, and therewithal takes into his consideration with what wonderful swiftness, strength, and spirit they are performed, he shall find them little short of those old reports, and far beyond either our hopes or expectations; yet thus much I must let you understand, that there is not any Horse which naturally out of his own spirit, being put to his own choice of food, and to the liberty of his own order in feeding, which is able to do the least part of those infinite labours which we see daily performed by horses of contrary keeping: neither can any horse (how choicely fed or dieted so ever he be) perform any extraordinary labour or employment, if to the perfection of his feeding he have not convenient and moderate exercise; so that in conclusion to attain to the substance and depth of this Art, you are first to learn by shapes, marks, and other semblances how to choose a Horse most fit for this purpose of enduring unspeakable travail. Secondly, how to diet and keep him that he may perform as much as is comprehended within the power either of his strength, spirit, or wind, without either danger of life, or hurt of inferior member. Thirdly, and lastly, what manner of exercise is most convenient and wholesome for perfiting and bringing to pass your own desire in this Art or Science. These three heads or roots bearing up the bodies and trees of this knowledge, from whence springs many other branches. Now for as much as many of our English horsemen, and those not of the Comparative, but Superlative degree, who having spent their days only in the riding & training up of great horses for service, utterly neglecting as undesirous to know the secrets of this▪ Art whereof I mean now to entreat, and have some of them in mine own hearing held long (but weak) arguments, both against hunting and dieting of horses, may impugn and kick against those precepts which I shall discover, let me under the reformation of their skills be bold to tell them that such neglects takes from their Arts much reputation and glory. For who can call himself master of that Art in whose especial principles he is utterly ignorant? as for example, if I have Art to make my horse in every turn winding, & interchangeable motion to exceed in nimbleness either Cat or Monkey, and in every bound, salt, or air above ground to outmatch either wanton Kid, or sporting Faun; yet in the same exercise want skill, either how to preserve his wind from breaking, his grease from melting, or his spirit from tiring, I say then my first Art were better unlearned, then for want of this latter to do evil by misimployment: and such are horsemen that can ride, but cannot diet. Again La Broue, who is the grand-maister of the French Chevelaria, and whose precepts carry general authority with our English Riders, he saith, that for great horses for service in the wars there is nothing more profitable than sometimes to hunt them and ride them after swift chases, both because it makes a horse light and nimble, enabling his wind and making him fit for travail, and also breeds in him a kind of civility and acquaintance with other horses, and takes from him evil thoughts and malicious humours, proving by his proposition, that this hunting of Horses brings to a horse two benefits, that is, nimbleness and strength, and takes from him two vices, barbarous ramegnesse and fantastic restiveness. Now if you will hunt your horse after swift chases, and know not how to prepare and diet him, for such violent exercise; I will be your most assured warrant, that you shall either soon spoil your horse or else behold no hunting, but your own imaginations. Now for as much as I have hitherto generally spoke of hunting, which word appertains to chases of all kinds whatsoever, I will before I proceed any further, tell you what kind of hunting, and which chafe is fittest for your horse's strength and exercise. To tell you of all the chases, which at this day is either hunted amongst us, or in other nations, or but to reckon half so many as Gesner hath collected into his volume, as namely of the Lion, the Leopard, the Pauther and such like, were but as a privileged traveler, to tell you a long tale of that which rarely or never shall come within your experience; and because the end of mine endeavours is the benefit of this nation, which first gave me breath, I will trouble you with no other Chases, than those which are exercised in this kingdom, and are most fit for men and horse to pursue. First for the Chase of the Otter, although it be a cunning chase, and exceeding pleasant to those tastes that can relish The Otter. such moist delights, yet to exercise your horse therein, I much dislike, because the sent lying for the most part in the water, and he that will faithfully follow it, must hazard his horse to the danger of swimming, it cannot choose but be both unwholesome and unprofitable. Next this is the chase of the Fox or Badger, which The Fox or Badger. although it be a chase of much more, swiftness, and is ever kept upon the firm ground, yet I cannot allow it, for the training up of horses, because for the most part it continues in woody and rough grounds, where a horse can neither conveniently make forth his way, nor can tread without danger of stubing, or other as mischievous inconveniences The chase which is much better than any of these, is the hunting of the Buck or Stag, especially if they be Of the Buck or Stag. not confined within the limits of a park or pale, but have liberty to choose their ways according to their own appetites, which of some Huntsmen is called hunting at force. This chase is much better than where a Dear is kept within bounds, because when he is so straightened, for the most part he keeps the thick wood, where a horse can neither enter, nor a man take delight to follow: where otherwise when he is at liberty, he will break fourth his chase into the wind, sometime four, five, and six miles forthright, nay I have myself followed a Stag better than ten miles fourth right, from the place of his rousing to the place of his death, beside, all his windings, turnings, and cross passages. This chase for the time it endures, is most swift and violent, so that by no means it can be allowed off, for the training and bringing up of young horses, but rather to be an exercise for a horse of stayed years and long practice. Besides, the time of the year, for these chases, is from mid May, to mid September, which is the whole conunuance of all Summer, & the dry time of the year, when the sun burneth hottest, and the earth is hardest, o that if a man should hunt a horse of puissance and worth, at such an unseasonable time of the year, the heat of the Sun mixed with so extreme a labour, would both parch and melt him, and his own weight beating upon the hard earth, would both surbate and bring him to an incurable lameness. Now you must understand, that although I disallow this Chase for the training up of the best horses, yet I do not mean it should be deprived the company of horses: for being of all chases with us the most worthiest, and belonging only to Princes and men of best quality, there is no horse too good to be employed in such a service; yet in that all noble spirits delight to keep an order and profitable comeliness in all their pleasures, 'tis fit they know that the Horses which are aptest and best to be imployployed in this Chase, is the Barbary, jenett, or light made English Gelding, being but of a mean or middle stature. There is a certain race of little Horses in Scotland, called Galway Nags, which I have seen hunt the Buck and Stag exceeding well, and endure the chase with good courage: and not any of these horses but will endure the hard earth without surbating or lameness, much better than horses of great puissance and strength. But to conclude, and to come the chase, which is of all chases the best for the purpose whereof we are now to entreat; Of the 〈◊〉 it is the chase or hunting of the Hare, which is a chase both swift, pleasant, and of long endurance; it is also a sport ever ready and equally distributed, as well to the wealthy Farmer as the great Gentleman: It hath his beginning contrary to the Stag or Buck, for it begins at Michaelmas when they end, and is out of date after April, when they come first in season, so that Princes, whose pleasures are their greatest labours, may with these two delights finish up the years circuit. And this sport being a Winter's sport, is so much more full of labour; and though the deepness of the ground shoes the horses strength so much the better, yet the toil is not so utterly without ease and respite, but that by the many stops and stays which are made therein, the horse recovers his wind, and his strength new increaseth, as when the dogs are at any default or loss, or when the scent is so cold that the Dogs cannot pursue it with any fury. These stays and recovering of wind in the horse my masters, the northern riders call Sobs. If you demand of me if you may not bring your horse as well to perfection without hunting, as with hunting, I answer no, for to toil a horse up and down in the field after nothing, and in no certain way or path, where he neither knows whether he labours, to what end he labours, nor when he shall finish his labouring. so to do, I say brings to the Horse amazement, weariness, and dislike in his exercise, for as an old beaten post jade will run his known course, and stage with all courage and good spirit, yet if you put him but to twelve score beyond his Inn, or turn him into any other path which is out of his remembrance, will presently stand still, and tyre most shamefully: even so the best metald Horses, if they be chaste and rechaste, without either delight or some encouragement, will by degrees grow worse and worse in their labour. Now for the following of Hounds, Horses even naturally have taken great delight both in their cry, and in their company, and will (as I have often noted) when they have heard the cry of hounds by pricking up their ears, gazing aloft, and forcing to run or gallop, show the pleasure they take therein; and for mine own part I have ridden an old hunting horse, that when pleasure and forgetfulness hath so rudely transported me, that I have unhuntsman-like ridden in amongst the dogs, yet have I found, that no negligence of mine could make the horse touch or tread upon a a dog: but showing more love than I did judgement, hath contrary to my mind shunned and avoided them: from whence I gathered, that questionless that horse (and as he, so others) take a singular delight and pleasure in the exercise. There is also another chase (if I may without offence Of the train sent. so term it) at least a sport I am sure it is; and that is when swift Hounds hunt a Cat, which is by some Huntsman drawn in a long string three or four mile at the most, up and down the fields, either cross ploughed lands, or thwart green fields, leaping Ditches, Hedges, or other Pales, Rails or Fences, or running thorough Waters, as the leader of the Cat shall think best for the advantage of the Horse, for whose benefit he rideth. This chase or sport we here in England call a train sent, because the scent which the Hounds hunt is trained alongst the fields, according to the discretion of the leader thereof, and not according to the will of the beast. This chase of all chases is the swiftest, because the scent thereof is hottest, so that the Hounds run it forth with all the power they have, making neither stop, nor stay till they either overtake the train, or else the man stay and go no further, insomuch that with the very eagerness of the chase, and frantic running of the Hounds, be they Dogs of never so free mouths, yet they shall not be able to open or spend their mouths, or if they do open, it will be very seldom. This chase is altogether used for the trial of matches between Horse and Horse, because it is ever ready when Hates are incertain, and the swiftness there●●nges a Horse sooner to the height of his speed, and ●o the sense of weariness, than any other whatsoever. It is also very good and profitable for the training up of a young Horse, after you have brought him to cleanness, and some little perfection of speed, if once or twice in a Week, at the latter end of the day, when you have finished the hunting of the Hare, you cause one of these train sentes to be made, upon such earth as your Horse takes most delight to run upon, and of such length as you shall think fit for his strength (the utmost of any train sent being not above four mile) and then laying on fresh dogs (which dogs indeed should be kept for no other purpose; for to hunt train sent dogs with good Har●ers, they will with their madness and ●inging spoil the chase) make your Horse run the train with good courage and liveliness, and so in his warmness troth him home. There is yet another chase which Horsemen call the Wild-goose chase, and it is never used but in matches Of the Wild-goose chase. only, where neither the hunting of the Hare, nor the running of train sentes is able to decide the doubt which Horse is the better. In this case Horsemen found out (for the avoiding of controversy) this chase, which is called Wild-goose chase, resembling the manner of the flight of Wild-geese, which for the most part fly ever one after another, keeping as it were an equal distance one from another: so in this chase, after the Horses are started, and have run twelve score, than which Horse can get the leading, the other is bound to follow whether soever he goes, and that too within a certain distance, as within twice or thrice his length, or else to be beaten up by the Triers which ride by to see fair play, being Gentlemen or others chosen for the purpose. And if either Horse get before the other twelvescore yards, or according as the match is made, than the hinder Horse looseth the match: And if the Horse which came first behind, can get before him which first led, then is he likewise bound to follow, till he can either get before, or else the match be won and lost. In this Wild-goose chase, there is no order or proportion to be used, but the foremost Horse to lead how and which way he please for his best advantage, which is the reason that in this Wild-goose chase there be many advantages, such as hereafter shall be more at large delared. And thus much for the hunting Horse, and the chases fittest to be hunted. CHAP. 2. The choosing of the hunting Horse, and of his shape. ALthough some men hold an opinion that every horse which can gallop may be made an hunting Horse, and albe we daily see that many Horses, which indeed can do no more but gallop (and that not long together neither) are ordinarily used in this exercise of hunting, yet I am of that mind, that if a Horse have not some virtue more than ordinary, as either in his swiftness, toughness, wind, or courage, that he is not worthy the name of a hunting horse, & neither doth deserve the labour, cost, and good food which he must eat, nor the grace to be employed in such an honourable pastime. Now therefore to save ill employed cost, and the repentance which follows hours that are in vain wasted, you shall (being admitted to pursue this pleasure) be exceeding careful in the choice of that horse which you intent for hunting: for as before I told you in the breeding of horses, some are good for service in the wars, some for running, some for coach, some for cart, and some for the hamper, now all these in their kinds good, yet very few excellent In general for all these uses whatsoever, and those few which are so well compounded, both of mind and body, that they are fit for any purpose, they only and none else are most excellent for this pleasure of hunting, as having the strength of the war horse, the toughness of the hunting horse, the good pace of the traveler, the swiftness of the runner, a good breast for the coach, a strong joint for the cart, and a back like a beam for the hamper. But forasmuch as there be three especial characters or faces by which a man shall choose a good hunting horse, to wit, his breed, his colour, and the shape of his lineaments, I will by them show you what observations you shall regard when you make choice for this purpose. And first for his breed, if he be either bastard Courser, bastard jenet, or bastard Pollander, his breed is not amiss; for I have known of all these sorts of bastards excellent hunting horses. Now if you demand what I mean by this word Bastard; it is when a horse is begotten by any ●f these Country horses, upon a fair English Mare, or by a fair bred English Horse upon any of these Country Mares; but neither to flatter other Countries, nor to take from our own that which is due unto it, the world doth not afford in all points (both for toughness and swiftness, being joined together) a better Horse than the true bred English Horse for hunting: which assertion should I maintain by the best proof, which is example, I could repeat so many instances as were sufficient to fill up the rest of this volume, but I will not at this instant be so troublesome. Next to his breed, you are to respect his colour and marks, which forasmuch as I have most amply set them down in the first Chapter of the former book of riding, I will refer you thereunto, and not tire your ear with oft repetitions: your last observation is his shapes, which although also I have in the other book set down largely, yet I must here give you other notes because a hunting Horse hath certain proportions, and secret figures, which do more agree with goodness than beauty. First therefore, you shall look to the shape and proportion of his mind, observing that it be mild, tractable, loving, and familiar with the man, free from dogged maliciousness, melancholy sullenness, or lunatic frenzy; but for wantonness, running away, leaping, plunging, or other apish tricks (so they proceed not from hate or envy) never respect them, for they are (like the conditions of shrewd boys, which we say will make good men) no other but the faces of good spirit and courage: and being tempered with Art, make the Horse not worse but much better. Now for his inward shape: his head should be somewhat long, lean, and large, with a spacious wide chaule, both thin and open; his ear if it be short and sharp, it is best, but if it be long and upright, it is a sign of speed and good metal. His forehead long and rising in the midst, the feather thereof standing above the top of his eye; his eyes full and round; his nostrils wide, and without rawness; his mouth large and hairy; his throppell within his chaule as much as a man can gripe & by no means fleshly or so closed with fatness, that a man can hardly find it, (as many fine shaped Horses are:) the setting on of his head to his neck would be strong, but thin, so as a man may put his hand betwixt his neck and his chaule, and not Bull-cragge-like, thick and full, that one cannot easily discern where his chap lieth, his crest strong and well risen; his neck strait, firm, and as it were of one piece with his body, and not (as my countrymen say) withy craggd, which is loose and pliant. The throppellor neither part of the neck which goes from the under chaps to the breast, should when the horse raineth be strait and even, not bending like a bow which is called cocke-throppled, and is the greatest sign of an ill wind: If the neither chaps, and that neither part of the neck also be full of long hair, and bearded down to the setting on of the breast, it is a sign of much swiftness: a broad strong breast, a short chine, an out rib, a well hidden belly, short and well knit joints, flat legs, exceeding short, strait and upright pasterns, which is a member above all other to be noted: his hooves both black and strong, yet long and narrow: and for his main and tail, the thinner the more spirit, the thicker the greater sign of dullness; to be (as some term it,) sickle hought behind, that is somewhat crooked in the cambrel joint, as Hares and Greyhounds are, is not amiss, though it be a little eyesore. And for mine own part I have seen many good which have borne that proportion. And thus much for the choice of hunting horses, their breeds, colours, and outward lineaments. CHAP. 3. At what age Horses should hunt: of their first taking from grass, and of their housing. Although I have often seen (and those which follow this pleasure do daily see) Horses trained up to hunting at four years of age, and some not so much: yet for mine own part I would have no Horse trained in that exercise till he be passed five at the least, as having changed all his teeth, and his joints being come to their uttermost largeness, for to put him to the violence thereof in his former tenderness doth not only weaken his joints, and makes him put out sorances, but also even appalls his mind, and takes away much of his natural courage, bringing rheums to the head, stiffness to the joints, melancholy thoughts to the mind, and all other effects of old age, before those which should be his best days, come to be numbered. Your horse therefore being full five years old and the advantage, you shall take him from grass about Bartholomew tide, or within a Week after at the furthest, for then Frosts beginning to come in (which nip and kill the pride of grass, making it not so nourishing as before it was) and the cold Dews falling from above, making the Horse's hair begin to stare (which though but few Horsemen regard, yet is a rule as worthy as any other to be respected) it is fit that you suffer your Horse to run no longer; but in any case take him into the Stable whilst his hair lies smooth & close to his neck and body: and that his stomach have received no ill sustenance, by the raw coldness of the season. When your horse is thus taken from grass, and set up in the Stable (the situation, fashion, and commodity of which Stable, is showed hereafter in the fifth Book) You need then but only look upon him, and your eye will tell you whether he be fat or no: if he be fat, (as of necessity he must be) having run all the former Summer, unless he be unsound and diseased, and so not fit for your purpose, you shall then let him stand all that night, and the next day unclothed, and give him no food but a little Wheat straw, and water, and two hours before you give him any water, you shall give him four or five handfuls of Rye, well sunned, or dried. This Rye will cleanse away his grass, empty his great bag, and yet keep him in good lust and spirit. The second day at night you shall make a Groom rub him all over with a hard wisp, and then gird about him with a sur-single (stopping it with soft wisps) a single Canvas cloth, then if his Wheat straw be spent, put more into his Rack, and throw some also under his body to lie upon, and so let him stand that night, and the next day also with nothing but Wheat straw, Rye and water. The third day at night you shall rub him again over with nothing but an hard wisp, then cloth him again, and let him stand with nothing but wheate-straw till the next morning, at what time as soon as you come unto him, look first upon his dung, and if you find that all the dark green colour which formerly it had, is gone, and there is no sign of grass left in his body, but that now his dung is of a pale yellow colour, neither inclining to blackness nor dryness, you shall then neither give him any more wheate-strawe, nor any more Rye. Now by the way, although I have given you this rule of giving your horse rye, for the first three days after he is taken from grass, yet you shall out of your own discretion govern it according to these observations: First if your horse be new taken from grass (because all grass is scouring) if his dung be more soft then ordinarily other horses be, which is a sign he is of a cold constitution, & subject to much solliblenes, you shall then forbear the first night, to give him any Rye at all, because nature being a better workemistris than art, takes upon her that labour: and if the other two days also his body hold the same temper; you shall then also forbear giving him any Rye, & instead thereof, give him after each watering three or four handfuls of Oats, well dried and sifted, the Oats being good, sound and full, and not like your southern Oats light and empty, which in the north we call skeggs, & is the food which only doth soon deceive a horse, but if you find alter your horse hath stood at wheatestraw a day or more (which indeed is a very binding food) his body begin to dry, & that his dung come from him in hard round pellets, not without much straining, and some pain (as you may perceive by the thrusting out his belly) than you shall give him Rye in the manner before prescribed, and not otherwise, for although it be comfortable, yet it is a kind of scouring, and not to be given to a horse in any sort, but by the way of medicine. And thus much for their age, taking from grass, and first housing. CHAP. 4. Of the first fortnight's diet, exercise, and dressing. WHen your horse hath his belly taken up, and the grass scoured forth, you shall then lay your hand upon his side by his short ribs, and to his fillets, & if you feel his fat to be soft & apt to press down under your hand, you shall then know that his fat is unsound, and not good, so that the least violent exercise will soon melt it: and being once molten, if then by art, medicine and good keeping, it be not avoided or taken away, than the fat belonging to the outward parts of the body falls into his legs, making him have swollen legs, gouty and unnimble, which though unskilful Farrier's attribute too other causes, yet this and no other is the original; and that you may be the more assured thereof, you shall know it by these observations: his legs will only swell when he standeth in the Stable, but when you ride or exercise him abroad, the more you chafe him, the more the swelling will fall, and he will come home at night with his legs as slender as if they had no imperfection; but the next morning they will be swelled as big as they were before. The reason hereof is this, the greasse which is fallen down into his legs, with standing still cooleth, & so coniealeth & bindeth together, with other gross humours, (which ever accompany and flow unto the weakest parts,) not only stopping the natural course of the blood, but also occasioning pain and much swelling; whereas when he comes to be laboured or exercised, the heat of his travel, (like fire to frost) dissolves what his rest had bound up, & so melting the grease again, dispeirses both it and the other unwholesome humours generally into every member of the horses body which is applied with like labour; and so his legs comes to their first smallness: then when ●est comes again, the grief begins again with rather more than less torment, & this disease with many is held incurable, but therein they are mistaken; yet how so ever it be to be cured, I know it is so difficult, that a man cannot have too great a regard to prevent it. Now for the inward fat, which is that which remains within his stomach, in his small guts & his great bag, if that after it be once melted, it be not scoured & taken away, but suffered to remain in his body & putrefy, it breeds those mortal & deadly diseases, of which a horse seldom escapes, as pestilent fevers, srettings of the guts, consumptions & such like. The effects of this mischief being not discerned or appearing to outward sense many times, till at least half a year after, whence it comes to pass that 〈◊〉 of horses are lost in this kingdom only for want of some fou●e pence cost, and a little prevention; men oft imputing to sudden death, witchcraft, & such like toys, The death which themselves wilfully gave, and might as easily have saved: which to prevent, you shall observe this method; after you have laid your hand upon his body, & found his fat soft and unsound, you shall then also thrust your hand between his neither chaps, and if there you find much fatness, great round kernels, or any thick & undissolved substance; you shall then know that as he is outwardly full of unsound fatness, so he is inwardly stuffed with much glut and pursines, so that neither his wind can have free passage, nor his body endure much labour; your art then must be to harden, and make his outward fat so firm and undisoluble, that it be a fortifier and augmenter of his strength, and to cleanse away his inward glut with such comfortable medicine and moderate exercise, that his wind, courage, and powers of his mind, being freed of all grossness, may appear in his labour to be more then redoubled; which thus you shall do. First you shall take away his wheate-straw, and instead thereof, you shall put into his rack a little bottle of hay, as big as a penny bottle in an Inn; which hay would be sound and well gotten, yet rough, course, and not exceeding pleasant in taste; whereby the horse taking no great delight to feed thereupon, may rather chew & eat it to scour his teeth, then either to fill his stomach or satisfy his hunger. Assoon as you have taken the straw fourth of his rack, and given him hay, you shall then in the morning by five or six a clock, which is the hour your groom should come into the stable, make him after he hath put away the horses dung, thrust up his litter, and made his stall clean and sweet; take a smooth snaffle, washed either in some fair water, or in a little beer, and putting it in the horse's mouth, turn his head to that part of the stall where his hinder parts stood, & there hanging the rain upon some pin or hook, placed for the purpose, First let your Groom unclothe him, then curry, rub, pick, and dress him in such sort as belongs to his place and office, which manner of dressing of horses, because it is at large prefigured in the fifth book, where I only write of those duties; I will in this place omit it, and refer you to that place to behold it. When your Groom hath finished the dressing of your horse, and only gyrtt the cloth about him with a sur-single without any wisps; you shall then take him forth, and mounting upon his back, ride him to some fair River or Spring, and there after he hath drunk, you shall gallop him upon an easy false gallop for five or six score yards, and then give him wind; then gallop him as much more, then give him wind again: thus you shall do twice or thrice till you have warmed the water in his belly, but by no means so much, that you may either chafe him, or wet any one hair about him with sweat, which when you have done, you shall place him fair and softly home, and when you have brought him into the Stable, you shall make the Groom first to rub and chafe his legs with hard wisps, then to stop his sur-single with soft wisps, then to take half a peck of good white Oats which are killne dried, and sifting them well in a fine siue, that there may be no dust left in them; assoon as you have taken off his bridle, and put on his collar, making the manger clean, put them therein, that he may eat them; then putting his litter down round about him, shut vp your Stable windows close, and so depart till one a clock in the after noon, at what time you shall come to him again, and first making your Groom put away his dung, and what other filthiness shall be about him; then cause him to turn up his cloth, and either with a hair cloth, or with a wet hard wisp cause him to rub down his neck, buttocks, and legs; then let him sift another half peck of Oats, and give them to the horse, then putting down his clothes let him stand till it be betwixt three and four a clock in the after noon, at what time let the Groom come to him, & as he did in the morning, let him first put away his dung, then put up his litter, wash his snaffle as he did before, put it upon his head, turn him about, then unclothe him, & as he dressed him in the morning, so let him dress him again in the after noon, and as soon as he is dressed and his clothes girt about him, you shall as you did before, take his back, and ride him to the former drinking place, & when he hath drunk, gallop him gently as you did before, with as great care, & with not one jot of more toil to the horse, then bring him home, and as you did in the morning, so now let the Groom rub his legs, stop his surcingle, put down his litter, and give him another half peck of sifted Oats: then let him stand till it be betwixt eight and nine a clock at night; at what time you must come to him again, make your Groom to put away his dung, to rub his head, neck, legs and buttocks, then to give him new fresh litter, and another half peck of well sifted Oats, and so to let him stand for all the night till the stext morning. Thus as you have done this day, you shall not fail to do every day for a fortnight together, wherein you are to note your hours for dressing, drinking, and exercise are two; Morning & Evening. For feeding four: Morning, Noon, Evening and Night. Now during this first fortnight's, keeping, you are to take into your mind divers especial observations; as first you shall observe the nature and condition of your horse, whether he be loving, or churlish, fearful or frantic, and according to his nature so to behave yourself unto him; as if he be loving to requite him with love again, and do all things about him with gentleness; if he be churlish, then to do all things about him with a bold courage, & a threatening voice; showing yourself to be a commander, & giving him no good countenance, but when he doth carry himself with obedience: if he be fearful, than you shall fortify him with cherishings, and do nothing about him rashly: & if he be frantic, you shall by your correction show yourself to be his master, & neither when you dress him, or do any thing else unto him shall you come to him but with a rod in your hand. After this, you shall observe the strength of his body, whether he be slow at his meat, or retain a good stomach; if you perceive he be but of a queasy and dainty stomach, than you shall give him the less at a time, and be feeding him the oftener, but if his stomach be strong & good, the proportion before set down cannot be amended; then you shall observe the nature of his digestion, that is, whether he hold his food long in his body, or digest and put it out more speedily, which you shall know by his dunging, for if he dung oft and moist, than he holds not his food long in his stomach: if he dung seldom and hard, than he keeps his food, and 'tis a sign of a dry body. Now if he do hold his food long, you shall use once or twice a week, whether he have exercise or no exercise to give him with his Oats a handful or more of hempseed; if he do not retain his food, but have a quick digestion, he is easier to work upon, and you shall keep him with dry provender. Lastly, you shall observe whether he be a gross and foul feeder, or very curious and dainty: gross and foul, that is, when he hath no other meat, he will eat his litter under him, gnaw upon the Manger and boards about him, or eat mud walls, or Thatch if any be near him, and so feed as it were and be fat in despite both of labour & his keeper; Curious and Dainty, that is, though you give him never so good meat, keep never so good hours, and let him have never so much rest, or never so much abstinence, yet he will not eat to fill his belly; and when he comes to labour, he will lose more flesh in a days hunting, than he will get again in a whole weeks resting. Now if you do find your horse thus curious and dainty, your best course is in his days of rest, to let him be his own dyeter, that is, you shall ever let meat lie in the manger before him, yet change it oft; that is, look what you give him in the morning, if you find any of it in the manger at noon, you shall sweep it away, and sift him fresh, then that which you take away after it be well aired & sunnd again, will be as good as it was before; and look how you do at noon, so you may do at evening and night also. You must also change the nature of his meat and not keep him to one kind of food, but give him sometimes Oats, sometimes bread, holding him most to that food which he best liketh; you shall also in the time of his rest, let a pale of water stand by him, that he may drink at his pleasure, for some horses have such hot stomachs, that if they may not almost to every bit have a sup, they cannot possibly eat; and yet for all this you shall observe your ordinary hours for watering him abroad also, and use the exercise as is aforesaid; but if your horse be gross, fat, and a foul feeder, which is called a kettie horse, then after you have done as much as is prescribed for your days labour, you shall not fail morning and evening, for this first fortnight to air him as is showed you in this next Chapter. CHAP. 5. Of the airing of hunting Horses. THe airing of Hunting Horses is but at three seasons only to be used: that is either in the first fortnight when they are first taken from grass, at what time they are so fat and foul, that they cannot be put to any labour without danger: or when they are in diet for some great match or wager, so that they must be kept in good breath with moderate exercise, preserving their chief strength and powers till the time of their trials: or when a horse hath got any strain, grief or mischance, so that you may not ride nor gallop him, yet you would keep him in good breath till his sorance be amended; upon any of these occasions, airing is your only remedy, and this it is, and thus you are to use it. Early in the morning a full hour and a half before Sun rise, you shall come to your stable, and after you have made your Groom to put away your horses dung, and to rub his head, neck, legs, buttocks and body all over with a hairy cloth, then girding his clothes about him with a surcingle, and making them fast and close before his breast, you shall then washing his Snaffle in a little bear, put it in his mouth, then bringing him forth, take his back, and with a fair footpace, ride him up to the top of the knoll of some hill, and there walk him up & down no more but in a footpace, till you see the sun be risen up fair in your sight, then walk him fairly home to the stable, and there let your Groom dress him as before; then ride him to the water, after his water gallop him, then bring him home, rub him, and give him provender, & use him in allthings as is before taught you; only when the sun, is as it were at the instant setting; or but a little before; as you did in the morning, so you shall do in the evening, take him forth & air him, but than you shall not go to the hills, but down to somefayre valley or meadow through which some river runs, and there alongst the river side you shall air him at least for an hour and a half, & so bring him home, cause him to be well rubbed & chafed, give him a handful or two of provender, and then follow your former directions. During the time of your airing your horse thus, you shall see him gape, yawn, & as it were shrug his body, & take a delight & pleasure in it, you shall in airing when your horse will at any time take occasion to stand still, as it were to gaze about, or to listen to any thing, give him good leave; and in all his airing suffer him to take his pleasure. The profit which doth redound by this airing is this, it makes a ketty full horse empty both his belly & bladder; and the sharp air which in the morning is the purest upon the tops of hills, & most cold and subtle that which comes in the evening from the humidity of the water will so pierce into the poets of the horses body, that it will even cleanse & expel many gross and suffocating humours, it doth also temper and clear the blood, makes the flesh firm & hard, & tempers the fat with such good qualities, that it is nothing near so ready to be dissolved or molten. To conclude; an ordinary days hunting takes no sorer of a horse then one of these early or late air; After you have thus for a fortnight applied your horse with air, & moderate exercisd him after his drink; than you may the next fortnight with more boldness adventure him into stronger labour. CHAP. 6. The second fortnight's diet, and first hunting. AFter you have with airing and moderate exercise after his drink, brought your horse to some pretty state of body, which is, that his flesh over his short ribs, will not feel so soft, and lose under your hand as before it did, neither the thin part of his flank is so thick, and full in your gripe, as it was at his first taking from grass, nor that you do find the kernels and gross matter gathered together under his neither chaps altogether so great as at the first they were; than you shall proceed to a more strict cleansing of his body after this manner. Early in the morning about an hour or more before his accustomed time, your Groom shall come into the stable, and as soon as ever he hath put away your horses dung, he shall look what meat your horse hath left in his manger, and if there be any, he shall notwithstanding make clean the Manger, and sifting the horse two or three handfuls of fresh Oats, give him them to eat, and as soon as he hath done eating, he shall bridle him up, turn him about, & then fall to dress him. After he is dressed, the Groom shall take a good hunting Saddle, with handsome stirroppes and strong wollengarthes', and girt it upon the Horses back, than he shall throw the clothes over the saddle, and so let the Horse stand upon the Bridle, till the Hounds and yourself are ready to go forth on hunting, which would be an hour or there about after sunrise at the furthest, than you shall take your horses back, and that first day follow the hounds very gently, galloping very seldom, and no long time together, but crossing the fields to your best advantage, both observe to make in with the Hounds at every default, and also to keep your horse (as near as you can) within the cry of the dogs, that he may take delight in their music; and when you find the chase to run over any fair earth, as either over More, meadow, Heath, greeneswarth, or grass leyes; all which my Country men of the north call skelping earths, because a horse may without any great toil or pain throw out his legs and body, and gallop smoothly thereupon; you may then thrust out your horse, and for a quarter of a mile, or half a mile, (according as the chase holds out) gallop him fair & softly upon the hand after the Hounds, that he may learn how to handle his legs, how to lay his body, and how to change and alter his stroke according to the change and alteration of the ground, as if the ground be plain and level, then to lay down his body, stretch forth his legs and to go more speedily away, but if the ground be ruttie and full of false treading, (which we call broken swarthe) or if it be over ridge and furrow, so that the horse in his galloping rises and falls, than he must gather up his body round & close, strike shorter and thicker, to the intent he may avoid ruttes, or setting his forefeet in the bottom of furrows, which if at any time by mischance he do, yet carrying his body so round and upright, he will ever have that strength at commandment, that he will neither stumble nor fall over: to which perfection you can no way bring him, but by moderate exercise and custom, and keeping him ever within his wind, that whensoever he ends galloping, he may be in his best strength, and have always a desire to do more than you will suffer him; thus and by the rule of these observations you shall hunt your horse till it be betwixt two and three of the clock in the after noon, at what time you shall couple up your Hounds, and then consider the estate of your Horse, whether he have had any great exercise or no; that is, whether he have sweat any thing or nothing (for to sweat exceeding much the first day you must by no means suffer him) and if you find he have sweat a little, than you shall ride him gently home; but if he have not sweat at all, than you shall upon some fair skelpe earth gallop him, till you make him sweat; but you must do it so gently, that you neither grieve him with the labour, nor make him desire the quickening of the spur in his galloping, but that all he doth may be done as it were out of his own voluntary will & courage. When you have made him wet the hairs that are at the roots of his ears, and some few upon his neck and flank with sweat (which are all the places you must at first by any means make him sweat in) than you shall ride him gently home: and as soon as you are lighted from his back, you shall cause him to be set up in the stable: then tying his head with the Bridle up to the rack (where there must neither be hay, nor any thing else) make two grooms at the least, one of one side the horse, and another of the other, with good store of fresh stawe, which must lie under him, rub his head and face first; then all his four legs, than his neck, body, belly, buttocks, and generally every part of the Horse, till they have not left about him any one wert or soul hair, then let them ungyrd his gyrths, and take off his Saddle, and immediately clap about his body and his heart two yards of some thick strong cotton, then lay on his clothes which ordinarily he wore, and having girt them on with the surcingle, let it be stopped round about with soft wisps, and so let him stand for the space of two hours or more; than you shall come unto him and unbridle him, and then sift two or three handful of Oats, and mix with them a good handful of Hempseed, and give it him to eat: then put into his rack a little bottle of Hay, and so let him stand till betwixt eight and nine a clock at night, at what time coming to him, you shall give him to drink a sweet mash of ground malt and water lukewarm, which if at first he be dainty to drink on, respect not, but placing it in such sort under him, that he cannot throw it down; let it stand by him all night, that he may drink at his pleasure. Then you shall cu●e him in small pieces the value almost of half a peck of ordinary hunting bread (the making and nature whereof shall be prescribed unto you in the next Chapter) then putting another small Bottle of Hay into the rack, thrusting up his litter hansomelye, that his bed may be soft, and rubbing his head, neck, and buttocks down with a hair cloth, let him stand till the next morning. Now forasmuch as in this first days hunting, there are many observations to be noted, I think it not amiss to give you a taste of them before I proceed any further: first therefore you ought to observe, that in the morning when you come into the field, that you do not put your horse to any gallop for at least two hours; which time you shall spend in trotting, & walking him after the dogs, & many times standing still, to make your horse dung, and empty his belly, which whensoever he doth, you shall cherish him, and with oft standing still, and now & then whistling your horse, do what you can to provoke him to piss, (which is the wholesomest thing of all others) than when you find that your horse by his oft dunging and pissing is reasonably well emptied, you may begin to gallop him in manner before showed. Next you shall observe the nature and inward quality of your Horse; which is whether he be of a temperate and sober spirit, one that will do no more than you put him unto, nor strive to go faster than you would have him; or whether he be a Horse of fiery and forward spirit, one that will chafe, fret, and sweat as much for anger that he is kept back and restrained, as the other when he is run a whole scent and sound spurred: if you find him of dull and sober metal, than you shall gallop him the oftener, but the less while together, that you may bring him to a delight in hunting, now and then awakening him with your spurs, but by no means (as I said before) bringing him to the height of his wind, or the uttermost of his strength. But if he he a Horse of hot and free metal, than you shall gallop him the seldomer, but the sorer, thrusting him now and then upon deep and overthwart earth, that by feeling the pain of labour, and the danger which his fierce and mad running draws him unto when he is ready to overthrow in every furrow, he will even by those corrections, and the benefit of his own knowledge, come to a more moderate temper in his running, and so much the better and sooner, if you (as in true Art you ought to do) by no means either with spur or rod compel him to do any thing; but that all the myscheefes he feels, may only come by his own voluntary fury; you but only giving liberty to his frowardness: than you shall observe upon what earth he gallops most unnimbly, and upon that earth use to gallop him most, yet with such leisure and gentleness, that he may have both time to know, and time to amend his fault. Lastly, you shall observe after your Horse begins to eat bread, whether upon that food he be quick or slow of digestion, as before in the first fortnight; and if you find that he be quick of digestion, that is, that he keeps his bread but a little while in his body (as for the most part your fiery and free Horses do) than you shall but only lightly chip your bread, and so give it him both crust and crumb together: but if he be slow of digestion, which is, that he keeps his meat long in his belly, than you shall cleave your loaves in the midst, and give unto your Horse nothing but the crumb only; for the crumb is quick of digestion, and soon turns to blood, crudity, and excrements: and the crust is slow of digestion, and asks (by means of his hardness and dryness) a double time before it be concocted. After you have thus spent your first hunting day; as soon as the next morning appears, you shall come to the stable, and the first thing you do, shall be to make your keeper thrust the horses dung from his litter, on which you shall look, and by treading upon it with your feet and opening it, you shall see whether you can find any grease either without or within it, or whether it be slimy or greasy outwardly; if their be neither grease nor other slimy matter to be perceived, but that his dung holds the same state and colour, which formerly it did before he was hunted, than you shall know that your first days hunting did take nothing at all of your Horse, but that his body holds one certain state still; which is a warning unto you that you may the next hunting day almost double your exercise; but if you find that there be any little grease come from the horse, or that his dung be but outwardly greasy, which you shall know by the shining of his dung, or by white spots, like soap spots, which you shall see within his dung, or if his dung be of a dark colour, or harder than it was, them you may be assured that both your horse is extreme foul, and that your labour was fully sufficient, so that the next day you hunt you shall increase his labour but a little more. When you have taken these observations from his dung, you shall then make your Groom dress him, and after he is dressed, as you did the first fortnight, so you shall then ride him to the water, gallop him after his drink, and then give him either 5. or 6, handfuls of well sifted Oats, or a good quantity of bread cut in small pieces, which you think he hath best stomach unto, as thus, if the last meat you gave him before were Oats then, now you shall give him bread, if it were bread then, now Oats: for the oftener you alter, the better will be his appetite, yet you must make bread his principal food, because it is most strong, most healthful and best nourishing both of wind and body, Thus you shall keep this day of rest as you kept him the first fortnight, the next day following you shall hunt him again as you did the first day, only a little increasing his toil according to his nature, strength, and aptness in hunting, and when you bring him home, to observe all the rules, diets, keeps, foods, and observations which are formerly described in this and the other Chapters. And thus you shall hunt your horse in this gentle manner four times a week for a fortnight together, feeding him only with ordinary bread and Oats, & giving him no scouring, but mashes and hempseed. CHAP. 7. Of hunting bread, both ordinary (as for training of Horses) and extraordinary for matches or Wagers. THere is nothing doth so much stumble men's minds, and make them afraid of keeping hunting horses, as the very remembrance and charge of keeping them, which by the folly of ignorant and foolish keepers, who to make the art and secrets greater than indeed they are, or to give a false colour to their own knowledges (as if in their skills were mysteries beyond conjuration) or else as I think, to get unhonest polling pence to their own purses; they tell noble spirits, & good minds (whose births and places are far beyond commerce with these under offices (yet desire to have every thing in best perfection) of such strange and unnecessary expenses, of such huge and monstrous proportions for food, and such diversities of corn, and of so much difficulty and attention, that as if a hunting horse would almost leave no corn for the poor to feed on; or had a stomach as infinite as such a keeper's folly; they make good minds so weary of the pleasure, and so fearful to meddle with a charge worse than usury, that they by all means possible not shun the sport, but say, as I have heard some Gentlemen do, that one Hunting horse is more chargeable than the keeping of half a dozen ordinary ●ourneying Geldings; but they are deceived, for this I dare avouch to all the world, and I would have all Gentlemen know it, that if he which undertakes to keep a hunting Horse, be a man skilful, honest, and of good conscience, then look what allowance any Nobleman, or gentleman will allow to his foot-cloth or horse for his own saddle, (which cannot be less than a peck at a watering, which is two pecks a day) that even that allowance, and forty shillings a year more, shall keep any hunting horse whatsoever as sufficiently, either for pleasure or else for match, as if you should allow him ten fold double the proportion, and he which demands more, wrongs both himself and his master. Now he that either loves sport or a good horse, and will not allow one forty shillings a year to see him in best perfection, for my part I could wish he might be deprived pleasure, and have a torment, in my conceit worse than the rack, that is, to ride of a jade that is tired. But to proceed to my purpose, and that you may see the greatest charge which belongs to a hunting horse, I will follow on the manner of bread making; and first for the ordinary bread, which is that wherewith you must feed, the most part of the year: you are thus to compound it; Take a strike of clean Beans, two pecks of wheat, and Ordinary bread. a peck of Rye, grind these together, and then sift them through a te●se, then knead it with good store of barm and water, but let your water be scalding hot, that it may take away the strong savour of the Beans, when you have knodden it well, then lay a cloth over it, and let it be also well trodden, than mould it up into great loaves like Household loaves, having as near as you can guess, about a peck in a loaf; then bake it as you bake good household bread, and no otherwise, and let it be at least two days old before your horse taste any of it. But if the horse for whom you make this bread, be exceeding sollible and much subject to looseness in his body, than you shall put in no Rye at all: but if he be of a hot body, and subject to more than ordinary dryness, than you shall over and beside the Rye, put to the former proportion of corn, about two pound of sweet butter. The natures of the aforesaid grains are these; First the Beans are the most strong and natural food for a Horse that can be, being neither so pursive, fulsome, nor breeding such raw crudity as pease do, & therefore where beans are to be got, I would have no pease used. Then the wheat is comfortable, light of digestion, & soonest coverts to good blood. Lastly the Rye is sollible & evacuating, so that being mixed with the other two grains which are dry and binding, it makes the bread of a reasonable & indifferent composition. The barm makes the bread light, so that it doth neither load nor cloythe stomach; the scalding water takes away the strong savour, and the butter is a purge comfortable, wholesome, and not against nature. This bread hath in it sufficient strength and virtue, to bring a horse to good ability of body, and pureness of wind, neither would I have any man either for the training up of young Horses, or for the ordinary pleasure of hunting, to use any other bread but this only: but if you make any match for any great wager, wherein you are to be exceeding circumspect and careful, for in their losses do indeed consist the charge and care of hunting horses, and to which I will never give any man encouragement, yet if you have made a match, and that your horse must be brought to the uttermost perfection that may be, than you shall make him another sort of bread somewhat finer than the former after this manner; you shall take of clean beans, well dried a strike, of oatmeal two pecks and of Rye two pecks, grind all these together, and boult them through an ordinary bolting cloth, then take as much new ale, and the barm beaten altogether, as will serve to knead it, and if you will bestow the whites of forty eggs upon it, the bread will be so much the better both for the horse and his wind. After the dough hath been well knodden with hands, you shall then cause the Baker, having his feet clean scoured and washed, to go into the trough and tread it exceedingly, than you shall cover it with clothes, and let it lie till it swell even to the top of the trough, which it will in short space do: then knead it again, & so mould it up in great loaves as you did before with the former bread, & so bake it sufficiently, but by no means over bake it. Better bread than this cannot be made for hunting, and though there be some horsemen of my knowledge, which will bestow upon bread a great deal of more charges, as by putting hot spices and other such like toys therein, thinking that more cost brings more worship, yet knew they how wild and unwholesome it is, surely they should never reap for their labours, so much as god a mercy, for take it from me for a general rule, whensoever you see any man use spices to a hunting horse that is sound and of good constitution, he is neither good keeper, nor can give any good reason for his doings, more than our common Smiths do for their medicines, which is, they have seen such a man do it before them. CHAP. 8. Of all manner of purgations or scourings that are fit for hunting horses and of their natures, uses and operations. PVrgations which are the emptiers, & voiders of all superfluous humours, which do annoy the body with their evil qualities, bringing either sickness, ulcers, or mortality, I do not mean amply to dilate upon in this chapter, because they are more properly belonging to the sick horse then to the sound; and their simples so curious, strange, and violent in working, as goes beyond the skill of every ordinary keeper; and for as much as I have in the book of diseases spoke as much as is necessary concerning them and their natures in case of sickness, I will here only trouble you, with those purgative, receits, which are only meet for hunting-horses, or running horses, being sound of body, and in perfect strength and livelihood, which are called of the Northern men scourings, which in true signification is the same that a purgation is, yet in that that their workings are somewhat different, because the purgation doth cleanse away those sick and unwholesome humours which are grown to an evil already, the scouring none but those which in time would grow to be contagious, I will let only the names hold the differences between them, and only here speak of scourings. The first scouring, & which is of all other the gentlest & most Of the mash wholesome is the mash, and it is made in this manner: take a peck of ground malt, and put it into a peal; then take a gallant and a half of water boiling hot from the fire, and put it to the malt, then with a staff, mash and stir them together at least half an hour, till taking the water upon your fingar, you feel it as sweet as honey (for ever the sweeter it is, the stronger it is) then let it stand till it be lukewarm, and then give it your horse. This mash is to be given to any horse after his labour, especially to such as are weak or lean, for as it scoureth away molten grease and loose humours, so it comforteth the spirits and engenders strength, it is good also for a fat horse (as it is before showed you) upon his first labour, so that you use with it (as is likewise showed you) another scouring which is of a stronger nature, for to use it only of itself, will feed a horse and make him more fat and pursy; it is also exceeding good, and only to be used in any sickness whatsoever, for to speak the truth of it, it is the horses o●ly Aleberrie. The next scouring is hempseed clean dressed to be mingled with his Oats, the nature whereof is exceeding Of Hempseed. gentle and without all offence to the stomach, it is the best scouring to begin with all, for it doth neither offend the horse in tasting, nor works upon any matter but what nature is willing to expel, and his office is only to purge the stomach and entrails. The next scouring is, take Rosemary and chop it very Rosemary & Butter. small; then take a quarter of a pound of very sweet Butter, and work them together, then break it in pieces, and role it into sundry pellets, somewhat bigger than the wall nuts, and then holding up the horse's head, put them gently down his throat, then ride the horse gently up & down half an hour after to make the scouring work. This is good for a fat horse, after you have given him such a sweat that you are sure you have melted some of his inward grease, it scoureth the stomach and entrails, and a little perfumeth the head, and wasteth the gross matter between his under chaps, and about his wind pipe: it is to be given to a horse early in the morning when he is fasting. The next scouring is Salad oil half a pint, & of milk Salad oil and Milk. new from the Cow a pint; brew them together, and give it to the horse with a Horn. This scouring is much stronger than any of the former, and will in the working make a horse sick for an hour and more, it also purgeth the stomach, and entrails of all molten grease or other humours which former labour hath dissolved, it is best for a fat horse, especially when after you have given him inward heats, and find that out of the hardness of his constitution, the other former scourings will not work, or bring any thing from him: you shall as soon as you have given this scouring, ride your horse gently up and down for half an hour, & then set him up so as the horse may lie down at his pleasure. The time to give it is in the morning. The next scouring, is to take a pint of muscadine, & Salad oil and muscadine. half a pint of Salad oil; and mixing them together, to warm them upon the coals, and so to give it to the Horse with a horn. This scouring hath all the effects & virtues which Salad oil and milk hath, only it exceeds in this, that it is much more comfortable, & as it scowreh, so it giveth strength and lust, neither doth it leave that flemy substance behind which milk doth, insomuch that it is good either for fat horse, or for lean, (if the lean have any gross humour to work upon) this scouring is not amiss to be given to a horse at his first taking from grass. After he hath received his first sound sweat, it purgeth the entrails: the hour to give it is early in the morning, and his exercise to be ridden gently half an hour after it. The next scouring is sack a pint, and salad oil half a Sack and Salad Oil. pint mixed together, then warmed upon the coals, and given to the horse with a horn, it is an excellent scouring and most wholesome for any horse of what state of body soever he be, for it both cleanseth the body and the head and also it cures any cold, and leaves no gross humours that can any way trouble the wind. Now you are to note that these three scourings last rehearsed, to wit, Salad oil and milk; salad oil and muscadine, and salad oil & Sack, are very carefully to be used and with great consideration; as first they are not to be used often, but either when by outward testimonies you know that your horse is inwardly soul, and that you have given him labour sufficient to dissolve it, or when by apparent heaviness or other stops, colds, or observations, you see your horse begin to wax sick, and not otherwise: again, you are to observe, that if sickness either by sudden cold or other misgoverment shall happen unto your horse when he is clean in body from glut or fat, or if your horse be of such a sollible constitution that he is but too apt to scour (yet necessity compels you to use one of these scourings) in such a case look which of the scourings you use, and to it you shall add at least two or three ounces of sugar-candy, so that nature having whereupon to work, the medicine, shall use his force without impediment. The next scouring is to take twenty cloves of garlic Butter and Garlic. clean peeled, and to bruise and stamp them in a wooden dish, then to take a quarter of a pound of sweet butter, and to roll up the garlic in four or five pellets bigger than wal-nuts, & so to give them to the horse, and thrust them down his throat: this scouring is to be given to any horse of what state of body so ever he be, if he be subject either to cold or pose in the head, for it purgeth only the head and wind pipes, and dissolveth the grossness between his chaps, the time to give it is in the morning fasting, and to be ridden moderately half an hour after, and you may if you please give it three mornings together, if either your horse have taken any sleight cold, or that you find the kernels under his chaps are impediments to this wind. The next scouring is to mix butter and Saunders together, and to make round pellets and give them to the Butter and Saunders. Horse, it is the same in nature and operation that butter and Garlic is, but not altogether so strong, and therefore not of so fit use; it only purgeth the head, & is to be given with the same manner and order as the former. To put mustard seed now and then amongst your horses Oats, purgeth the horse's head, gives him occasion to neese and snore, and is very wholesome, so that if you use it every day once, it cannot choose but bring profit, and and help your horse's wind much. The last scouring is; take a good quantity of box leaves, and put them into a pewter dish, than set them before Box leaves & Brimstone. the fire, and let them dry leisurely, till they be so hard that you may crush them to powder, then when they are brusd, take the same quantity of brimstone, beaten likewise to powder, and mix it and the box leaves well together, then when your horse comes in from hunting after he is rubbed, dressed, and hath stood upon the bridle a good space, than the first meat that you give him must be a handful or two of well sifted Oats, and a pretty quantity of this scouring strinckled amongst them; yet you must do it so cunningly and daintily, that your horse may not find fault at it, or through the savour thereof refuse his meat. This scouring purgeth the head, stomach, and every part of the body, it killeth the Maw-worm, bots and grubbs, which three forts of worms being bred in the stomach, do exceedingly torment the hunting and running horse, because being kept so much fasting, the worm wanting humours to work upon, doth gnaw and gripe upon the stomach, so that if they be not killed, the grief of them will keep the horse from his best doing. This scouring is especially to be used when your horse is cleansed from glut or fat, and when you have him either in diet for match or wager, it is merely without all hurt, & hath no working in it contrary to nature. And thus much for scourings, their natures and operations. CHAP. 9 The third fortnight's diet, and of the first thorrowe sweatings. AFter your Horse by thetwo former fortnight's diet, is come to so good an estate of body, and so well inseamed that you find he is able with good strength and wind to run upon any reasonable and indifferent earth) two or three mile without much sweeting or blowing, if you would force h● thereunto, and that now the flesh of his body doth begin to grow very hard, his flank thinner and cleaner than at your second fortnight's beginning, you shall then this third fortnight increase his labour, and come to acknowledge of the uttermost of his inward powers, and how apt or fit he is, or will be for this pleasure to which you employ him, and you shall do it in this sort. According to the manner prescribed in the second fortnight. After your groom hath early in the morning given your horse a pretty quantity of bread or well sifted Oats, and that he hath dressed him, saddld him and brydld him, you shall then take him forth a hunting, and after you are come into the field, and that your horse hath emptied himself in some reasonable sort (which questionless he will have done by that time you can possible find a Hare, except your sport be extraordinarily ready) you shall the first chase the dogs break forth, a little favour your horse, yet not so much that you let the chase run too far before you, but keeping your horse upon a reasonable gentle gallop, follow it to the very ending; This first chase will (as the northern man says) rack your horse's wind, and so prepare him to his labour (with which he hath had a little acquaintance a fortnight before) that if at first he were not emptied enough, he will now empty himself thoroughly, and make himself fit for the uttermost you can put him unto, which done, all the day after you shall hunt him sound, that is to say, you shall follow the hounds as close as either is fit for a good Huntsman, or the half speed of your horse is able to bear you, nay if you put him to a three quarters speed it shall not be amiss; but to put him to the uttermost of his speed, you shall never do in the third fortnight's training except you put on a resolution never to have your horse good after; if this day afford you such pastime, and the chases hold out so long, & are so many that they have put your horse three or four times into sound sweats all over his body; and that you see the sweat which rises under the Bridle, and about the Saddle and gyrthes, to rise upon a white foam, which is a great sign of glut and foulness, then upon the finishing of your sport, which would be about three of the clock at the latest, you shall ride him home, and there rub him, dry him, and clothe him up warm (as was before showed you.) But if your sport have been so slack, that the following of the dogs hath not put your horse into any great sweat at all, then towards the evening, when it is almost time to go home, you shall make some horseman with a Cat in a string to lead a train sent, upon such ground as you know your horse takes delight in, for at least three or four mile: then laying your dogs upon it, follow the train with a three quarters speed till it be ended, which will heat your horse thoroughly, and then gently ride him home, and use him as aforesaid: then two hours after, when you unbridle him, give him Oats and Hempseed together, which must be as a preparative to a stronger purgation: then give him hay; and before you go to bed a mash. The next morning the first thing you do, you shall give your horse the scouring of butter and rosemary: and after you have chafed him, set him up, and let him stand an hour or two, then give him some bread, and about one of the clock in the after noon water him, and give him some more bread; then let him stand till your ordinary hour, and then dress him, water him, and give him more bread or oats, and use him in all things as formerly in his days of rest. The next day following take him forth on hunting again; but in any case hunt him nothing so sore after the Dogs as you did the other day before, till it be after noon, and then if you find in him good spirit and life I would have you to give him a chase or two after the Dogs sound; and towards the evening to make him an other train sent, and torunne it somewhat more thoroughly than the former, that you may make him sweat heartily; then bring him home, rub him, dress him, dry him, and clothe him up exceeding warm: then after he hath stood two or three hours upon his bridle, you shall give him the scouring of Sack and Salad oil, adding thereunto a good quantity of Sugar-candy, or that of Muscadine and Salad oil, putting likewise unto it great store of Sugar-candy: but that of Sack, Oil, and Sugar-candy, is much the better, especially if your Horse be subject either to cold or pose in the head. As soon as you have given him this scouring, you shall tie him so that he may lie down, and so let him rest till nine of the clock at night, at which time you shall give him as much warm water as he will drink, and a good quantity of bread and Oats, well sifted and mingled together: then making his bed soft, let him rest for all that night. The next morning, as soon as you come unto him, you shall first look upon his dung, whether he have Notes from the horses dung. voided any grease or no, whether he have, or he have not, it shall be no great matter, for the force of this last scouring will work two, three, and sometimes four days after: then whether his dung keep the perfit colour, I or no, or whether it look more dark or black, or whether it look more red and high coloured. If it look of the right colour, (as is before showed) than it is a sign of health, strength and cleanness; if dark and black, than it is a sign that there is molten grease, and other ill humours in his body which are not scoured out, if it look more red and high coloured, than it is a sign he is inwardly hot, and that his blood is a little distempered, which moderate diet, and cool exercise will soon amend; if his dung be loose and thin, it is a sign of weakness, if hard and in round pellets, than it is both a sign of a hot hody inwardly, and that he feeds grossly, eating either too much hay, or else some part of his litter, which you may amend by increasing the allowance of his provender: but if it keep an indifferent mean, betwixt both these, being neither too hard, nor too soft, but as it were like the ordure of a man, and that it stink, and be so strong that you shall be enforced to burn perfumes in your stable, then is it such as it should be, and is a sign your horse is clean, strong, healthful, and of good courage. After you have noted the temper of your horse's body by his dung, than you shall look into the Manger what Notes from his eating. meat he hath left uneaten: & by the computation of that which he hath left to eat; consider how much he hath eaten; ●han if you find he hath eaten nothing at all, or very little; you shall then understand, that either the former days hunting hath dissolved much gross matter in his body, upon which the scouring working somewhat sore, makes him a little sick, and so doth forbear his food, or else your former days labour was a little more violent then in discretion it should have been: but which soever it be it matters not, for his stomach will quickly come again with moderate labour. If you find he hath ea●en all his provender; and left none in the manger, them you must know that over night you gave him not so much as you should have done, and therefore it shall be good that the next night you double your proportion; for it is a principal rule you must hold in this kind of dieting to give your Horse ever more meat than he will eat, and not as travelers and Poulters do, keep your Horse ever with an unsatisfied stomach: for by that means being ever kept sharp like a hawk (as if he laboured for his belly) whensoever he comes to a good or full meal, he cannot chule but surfeit. The keeping of a hunting horse is (and the keeping of other horses should be) contrary; for you must by little and little give them so much, that in the end they will eat no more, and then if you throw never so much before them they will eat no more than shall suffice nature, being to themselves better physicians than any man can be: but if you once stint them, or keep them hungry a meal or two, then according to the old proverb, be sure the third will make a glutton: wherefore having by little filled your horse's belly before you serve him for all night, be sure then to give him so much that you may find some uneaten in the morning. Now lastly, if you do find a little in the Manger, so that you see he hath eaten a good proportion, than you may be assured he is strong and lusty, and hath in him no touch of sickness. After you have taken these notes from his dung and meat, you shall then cause the groom to dress him, water him, and use him in all points as in his former days of rest, giving him both good store meat, and change of meat: that is, one while bread, and another while Oates, giving him most of that he takes most affection unto. The next day following this day of rest, you shall take your horse forth on hunting again, but not to the end you shall put him to any labour, but only to keep him in breath, and to procure him a stomach to his meat; for all this day you shall not by any means gallop him, except now and then five or six score yards; but only trot him from hill to hill, that you may see and hear the Hounds, but not follow the Hounds, and thus spending the day till evening, bring your Horse home without having any one hair wet with sweat, observing all he day as you ride, as oft as your Horse doth dung, to turn about and look upon it, for there is no question, but that day he will void very much grease and filthiness; when you come home let him be very well rubbed, dressed, and warm clothed up, and very well fed that night both with Oats and bread. As for his water, you shall that day both water him in the morning as you ride him into the field, and also water him in the evening as you bring him from the field, and give him no scouring at all. The next day after this, being a day of rest and feeding, you shall use your horse as in the days of rest before specified, where you are only appointed to feed hard, but to give no scouring. In the same manner & with all the same observations that you have spent this week, you shall also spend the next week following, without any augmentation or alteration, and then be well assured you shall have your horse in as good wind, strength, and cleanness, as is either fit or necessary for a hunting Horse, so that afterwards observing moderately to hunt twice or thrice a week according to the strength & constitution of his body: and every night when as you come from any sore hunting, to give him hempseed & a mash. You shall keep him all the year fit for your pleasure, and with out any danger either of wind breaking, bursting, blinding, foundering, or such like infirmities, make him perform in labour as much as is contained within the compass of his power; only thus much you must know by the way, that after once you have brought your horse to be clean, which you shall perceive both by his long enduring of labour without sweeting, by the clearness of his wind, when he will run three or four mile, and scarce blow at it, and also feeling his flank to be thin as containing nothing but a double skin, and his chaps so clean either from fat, glut or kernels, that you may hide both your fists between them: than you must by no means give him any scouring after his riding except it be now and then upon some sore days hunting, either a little hempseed, or else box leaves and Brimstone; or if he have a little pose in his head, than a little mustard-seed in his provender; other scourings you shall use none, unless it be when there is apparent sickness. Also after you have made your horse clean, you shall by no means, either through your negligence or for want of riding, suffer him to grow foul again, for so you shall be oft deceived & procure yourself a double labour, & not have one penny cost saved. And thus much for your third fortnight's diet. CHAP. 10. Why Horses should have their sweats after the Dogs, and of their clothing. THere be some Horsemen which because they have gotten particular names; out of their ambitions, to keep particular reputations, and to make men believe there is greater mysteries in their doings, then indeed there is, will when they should give their horse any thorough sweat either steal from company or from the Hounds, and where no body may behold them, break into a main chase and so give their Horse a sweat, or else taking unaccustomed hours, give their horse his sweats in obscure places; from the ground of which custom it may be that some will demand why I do not observe that rule, but prescribe sweats to be given after the Doges in any public assembly; my answer is, that because I am not a Scholar to men, and fashion but only to experience and reason; therefore I eschew all things wherein I can find no probability as I can neither do in this too curious privatnes; or in binding myself to any one remote place. Now for giving a horse his sweats after the Dogs, in that I find much strength of reason; as first besides the pleasure a horse naturally takes to follow hounds (of which I have somewhat spoken before) the diversity of grounds over which a horse is compelled to run, as sometimes over ploughed fields, sometimes over plain pastures or meadows, sometimes over lay-lands, or upon beaten high ways, sometimes amongst moale-hils, and sometimes amongst broken swarth's, brings unto him a two fold profit; one in his experience by making him cunning upon every kind of earth, the other by strengthening his wind & giving him new breath; with the alterations of the ground, every horseman having this care as well for his own safeguard as his horses, not to let him run so violently upon deep and dangerous earths, as upon smooth & plain grounds; another reason is a horse that takes his sweats after the dogs, takes it not suddenly; or sa a man would say with one wind, but temperately and at leisure, the horse hardly at any time running half a mile together without some stop or stay, for as the hounds fall in their scent, so the horse stays in their running, and recovering new breath, takes his sweat without any sense of pain like a man that were placed in a hothouse, whereas if to his sweat should be joined pain and faintness, he would soon take dislike in his labour, and not being a horse of approved metal, soon fall to tiring. The last reason is, that galloping and labouring amongst other horses, is such an encouragement and comfort, chiefly to a young horse, that he doth as it were forget his pain, & by seeing the labour of his companions; out of an ambition, incident to horses, covets many times to do more than any reasonable horseman would have him; whereas when a man takes a contrary course, it cannot choose but bring forth contrary effects, and so serve both from art and reason. There is another error as gross as the grossest whatsoever, which I have seen much used amongst our keepers of hunting horses, and that is, as soon as they have Of clothing: taken their horses into the stable, than they have immediately laid upon them two or three clothes, some of canvas, some of woollen, and some of sackcloth, without either consideration or reason, almost thinking that a horse cannot be in good keeping, if he be not as it were almost overburdened with clothes; some of the best professors of this art (in the worlds repute) not being able to ogive a sound reason why a horse is clothed at all, much esse why they wear so many clothes, except it be this, that such a jockey, such a Florrie, or such a Lorrie did so do, and therefore we: which is no good reason except horses were all of one temper; & indeed the truth is, that if a hunting horse were of that ability, that he were able to endure without clothing, it were not amiss to keep him as thin as may be: but in as much as neither their bodies nor such extreme labours can endure nakedness, I hold it most meet, that they be clothed; yet would I have them to wear no more then sufficient, nor as if they were old, sick or diseased, to wear furrd coats in Harvest. Now to know when your horse hath clothes sufficient, or when he is too light clad, you shall keep well this note and observation: when you first take your horse into the stable, you shall clothe him with a good single cloth of strong Canvas, made long and of good compass, so that it may fold double about his heart, & come and tie before his breast handsomely: than you shall mark how his hair lies, especially upon his neck, which at that time of the year must of necessity lie plain and smooth: then after more sharp weather begins to come in, if then you perceive his hair to begin to rise or stare, than you may be assured he feels inward cold, and it is necessary that his clothing be increased, so that then I would have you lay on another cloth, which if it be made of woollen it is so much the better, and for any of our English horses I think will be clothing sufficient; but if he be a horse of a more tender nature, as either Barbary, jenet, or such like, and that his hair notwithstanding still stars and stands up; you shall then lay upon him another cloth, making this your rule, that till his hair lie smooth and flat to his skin, he hath not clothes enough, and when it doth lie flat though it be but with one cloth as single as a sheet, yet it is clothing as much as he should wear. Thus if you do but look into the true nature and disposition of your Horse, and observe but the outward Characters which he will show you, it is almost impossible you should err in his keeping. And thus much for sweeting and clothing. CHAP. 11. Of making a hunting match, the observations, and advantages. AFter you have made your Horse clean within, and brought him to pureness of wind, great strength, & able performance, when you find he is able to endure out a days hunting sound, and to take his heats and colds stoutly, without either faintness or shrinking, which is the only testimony and principal virtue in a hunting horse; and because I have not hitherto spoken particularly of them, I will tell you before I proceed further what heats and colds are. To endure heats and colds, is when a horse hath run Of heats and colds. out a main chase three or four mile; so that all his body is all ●uer of an entire sweat: them the dogs being at default, or the train being ended, to have your horse in the cold frosty weather to stand still till that sweat be dried upon his back, nay sometimes till it be even frozen upon his back, so that the cold may pierce him as much inwardly, as before the heat did, and then to break forth into another main chase, & do as much or more than he did before, his courage appearing to his rider rather to increase then decrease. That horse which can do thus the oftest together, is the worthiest horse, and the best to be esteemed; for I have seen many goodly horses that for the first chase, could be held within no limits; but after the cold hath pierced to his heart, his courage hath so failed him, that the second chase hath craved much compulsion, and in the third he hath flatly tired, which hath only been for want of exercise and hardening: Also if you see your horse after his heat, when he cools to shrink his body in, and to draw his four legs together, then be assured his courage fails him, and he will hardly endure another case after, also if in his cooling you see his gyrths wax slacker than they were at the first, so that you find his body and belly shrink and grow slenderer than they were, it is the greatest sign that may be of faintness and tiring; if a hotses after he comes to be cold, hold his teeth fast together, and will not open his mouth; and if his eyes stand firm in his head, and move not so quick as their usual custom, both these are great signs of faintness, sickness and tiring. When therefore (as I said before) you have brought your horse to be so clean, that he will both hunt, and take his heats and colds strongly, and then also either out of his speed and swiftness, or out of his truth and toughness is of sufficient power to command, or at lest in an indifferent sort to accompany in a chase the swiftest hounds, to which you must have an especial regard: for there is no readier a way in the world to cousin your hopes, then by training your horse after slow dogs, for over them he will have such advantage and run so at is own ease, that you will imagine there is no labour too great for him; where as when he comes to run after swift Dogs indeed, they will draw him up to such an extraordinary swiftness, that not having been formerly put to the like toil, the very inacquaintance therewith will make him tire even in his best strength, wherefore I would have all Gentlemen that would as well have good Horses as good Hounds, ever to keep two or three couple of traynsent dogs the swiftest he can by any means attain unto, and according as he finds the strength of his Horse, so to train him once or twice a Week after them. Now if your Horse, both in your own judgement and in the opinion of other Horsemen have those virtues which are fit for a beast of best estimation: so that either out of your own disposition being desirous to gain your Horse a particular reputation, or out of scorn to endure the braves of others challenges, you will needs make a match or wager upon his head, though for mine own part I would give no Gentleman encouragement thereunto, because I have seen in them so much breach of friendships, so many jealousies, and so many deceits, insomuch that many times the better Horse comes from the field, the greater loser; yet because such errors have no right title to the sport, but only come in by covetousness, and intrusion, and that many Gentlemen notwithstanding, will make matches; I will according to my slender skill and experience, show you the observations & advantages necessary in matching. Wherefore, whensoever you make any match, you must undoubtedly know the nature, quality, and disposition of the Horse upon which you presume: that is, whether he be of hot or cold temper of spirit: whether exceeding swift and not so tough, or exceeding tough, and not so speedy: then whether he delight to labour and to i'll upon deep grounds, and to climb hills, or to run upon skelping earths, high ways, or smooth pastures; then whether he be nimble of foot, so that he will run amongst moale-hilles, down stony crags, dangerous ruts, and uneven ways; or else having formerly been beaten upon his legs, cannot well endure any but soft treading: then whether he be of pure and strong wind, so that he will run a long time without sobbing, or else thick or short wound, insomuch that albe he is exceeding tough, yet he must have many eases in his running. According to these dispositions, you must fashion your match, and preserving to yourself your best advantages, there will be greater hope of your winning: as thus, if your horse be of fiery and hot metal, which for the most part are speedy and nimble horses, loving hard & plain earths, and by reason of their furies seldom able to run any long time together without some sob or breathing, than your best advantage is, if your match be to hunt the Hare first, and the wild goose chase after, as at three or four of the clock in the after noon, then to ease your horse as much as you can all the day, and to let your adversary lead you continually, and rather to run without your law then within it, so you keep your horse from being whipped by the triers: then when you come to start the wild goose chase, to chase the fairest earth that is within your eye, or the plainest high way you can soon recover, and so thrusting your horse into his full speed, try to win your wager with one wind and good footemanshippe, but if that fail you, than you must take up your Horse, and let him gallop as softly as you can, yet by no means suffering your adversary to take the leading from you, but whensoever he strives for it by giving him slips in winding and turning, seek to over toil him, and make him glad to give over striving to get the leading, which as soon as you perceive he doth, and that he gives as much ease to his horse as you do to yours; than you shall as soon as you can drive to the next high way which leads homeward towards the stable where you keep your horse, and then laying your spurs hard to his sides, try again the second time to win the wager in a forth right chase, but if it fall again, than the match is in some danger and the truth & toughness only will be victor▪ if your wager be to run train scents, (which is not so good an advantage for a horse of this quality) your best course than is, (if you can get the leading of the first train, to lead it upon such earth that if it be possible there may be no deep grounds or ploughed fields within three mile of the place where you end your train, so that when your adversary comes to make the second train, he shall neither will nor choose, but make it upon skelpe grounds, because there is no deep earth near him, for by the order of riding, he is bound to begin where you end: the first train you shall forbear to ride with any speed, which you may do at your pleasure, if either you will lay on slow dogs, or imperfect dogs. The second train you must be ruled by your adversary; but the third train which is your own again in it you may try if you can win the wager, especially where speed is the only thing you trust to by making the train fit for your purpose, and laying on Dogs the swiftest you can procure. Now on the contrary part, if your horse be of cool spirit, reasonable speed, yet of an infinite toughness, so that you can hardly either over labour him, or over spur him; in this case you shall by no means agree to hunt the Hare, but only to follow train scents, in which keeping your adversary continually to the height of his speed, you shall either go home a conqueror, or else be beaten at your own weapon, the best wind and the best truth remaining only victor: in this case you shall except against running in a high way above so many yards, as sometimes twenty, sometimes forty, as you can agree: you shall also agree to give as little law as is possible, as thus: that one horse shall not run short of the other (through the whole chases) above his length, or if he do, then to be whipped up by the trier; you shall also (especially if your horse be gelt, and your adversaries stand) bind him from all reliefs and comforts▪ as thus, that there shall be no cold water cast either upon the horses stones, or into his mouth, nor that any train shall be led through any water above setlocke deep, that no man shall cast straw, or shall pisseunder the hunting horses belly, thereby to provoke them to piss also; and such like helps which are only helps of advantage; you shall also agree upon your place of meeting, where the first train shall begin according to the nature of your horse, for if he be a horse of great speed, and loves smooth earth, than you shall have your meeting amongst some light sandy fields, or near some dry heaths or plains, if he be a horse of slowness and roughness, then in deep clay fields, amongst low grounds & rotten green swarthe; if it be your horses wind you presume upon a gree to have your trains the longer: if it be his speed let them be upon the fair ground, but if it be his truth, then upon the deepest & foulest you can attain too; a good wind would climb many hills, but a thick wind would be kept upon the level: observe by no means when you make a match to give any odds of weight, for at the latter end of the day, when horses are weak, and burden comes to be felt, half a pound weight is an unspeakable advantage: as for example, let a man when he hath run till he is weary, but then cast away his hat, and he shall find himself infinitely refreshed; but let him take unto him more than he had, but the weight of a riding rod, and he shall find himself double oppressed, to match a gelding against a stand horse, (especially in the spring) is a great disadvantage; for the horse is in his prime and the gelding in his weaning. Lastly observe to have your rider honest, your trier skilful, and yourself patient, and be assured the horse will do his utmost. And thus much for matching. CHAP. 12. The dieting of a hunting Horse for a match. WHen you have made your horse clean enough for ordinary hunting, and have out of the strong conceit of his goodness made a match against some other horse, & have resend (as necessarily you must do) at least a month to bring him to the best perfection; you shall then put him into the choicest diet, after this manner; first you shall look well upon your horse, and consider in what state of body he is, as whether he be strong of body, that is fat, lusty, full of courage, and in the pride of lust: so that when you but lead him forth, he will leap and gambole about you; or whether he be inclining to weakness: that is lean of body, by use of much hunting, cool in his disposition and void of alacrity and cheerfulness, so that he had rather stand still then either play or use other motion; in which state of body if you find him, than the first week you shall do nothing but feed him with ordinary bread and Oats, especially with bread; till you have brought him to spirit, & cheerfulness, exercising him so moderately, that albe you have him abroad every day, or every other day at least, yet it shall be but only to keep him in wind and breath (which must carefully be kept from corruption) and not either to make him sweat or once to feel the pain of labour, and in this feeding him, you shall take great pains; as being continunally every hour giving him some thing, as either bread or well dried Oats, and giving it so by little and little, that you may entice him to eat a great deal, and ever when you depart from him, to leave meat in his manger, & when you come and find any left, to sweep it away and give him fresh, till you have brought him to heart, and made him wanton, which done, you shall proceed to diet him as shall be presently declared. But if your horse be of sufficient heart and strength in the beginning, than you shall for the first week hunt him three days, that is every other day reasonably sound, in any wise observing both in his days of toil, and in his days of rest, all the orders which are prescribed in the first week of your third fortnight's keeping, mentioned in the ninth chapter; only because it is to be intended, that your horse is in a reasonable good estate of body already, you shall give him no scouring but box-leaves and brimstone or else either hempseed, or mustard seed. The second week you shall feed him with the best bread, which in the seventh chapter is called bread for a match, & though you ride him on hunting every other day, yet you shall not gallop him much or make him sweat above twice that week, riding him more abroad to get him an appetite to his meat, then for the use of any labour; and this week you shall give him few or no Oats, but most of the best bread, & for change of food now and then of the ordinary bread: you shall observe this week to water him when you ride him abroad both at his going forth and at his coming home, and when he is in the stable, to have a peal of water standing by him continually, that he may drink at his pleasure: you shall this week abridge him very little of his hay, but let him have a little bottle at due times before him, yet more for scouring his teeth then satisfying hunger. The third week you shall hunt him very sound three days, that is every other day, as thus: Monday, wednesday, & saturday. Now for Monday, being the 1. day of the third week, you shall only hunt him to give him a warm sweat & no more, which if hunting the Hare will not do, than you shall ride him two trainesents at the least, and when you come home, keep him warm, feed him hard with the best bread, & give him no scouring but Box-leaves and brimstone. All Tuesday you shall let him take his rest, and feed him with the best bread in such sort as is formerly showed you for his days of rest, only you shall not let him go forth somuch as to the water, but water him in the house. Upon tuesday at night, you shall apply him with bread, giving him a little and a little at once, till it be twelve of the clock at night; and if he grow weary of the best bread then for change you shall give him some of the ordinary bread, and if he grow weary of it also, than you shall give him a few Oats. At twelve of the clock at night you shall take away his hay, and putting fresh meat in the manger, let him rest till the spring of the day. Now you must observe, that although I join you thus almost to ceaseless labour: yet my meaning is not that you should be so much with your horse that you should give him no time for rest or sleep (which is a second food unto his body) for that were absurd, but to take such fit and convenient times, when either your horses rest is past or that you think he hath digested that which before you gave him: and to that end you must have some private peeping hole where you may ever see whether your horse be upon his feet or laid down, if he be laid down, you shall not only yourself refrain from coming unto him, but also have care no noise or tumult be near the stable, and as soon as he rises of his own accord, you shall then go to him, and feed him as is before prescribed. Upon Wednesday in the morning, as soon as you come to him, you shall give him some bread, and then let the Groom dress him, saddle him, and bridle him; then when you are ready to go forth, you shall take a pint of good Ceres' Sack, being brewed with three ounces of Sugar candy, and give it him to drink, and then take his back, and that day ride all chases, and at all horses, trying the uttermost both of his strength, wind and toughness; which if you cannot sufficiently do with ordinary hunting, than you shall in the latter end of the day, break forth into a main chase overthwart the fields, and making your friends to ride at you with fresh horses; that day try the uttermost of his power, both in speed & otherwise, & make sure that you spur him soundly, that you may know how truly he will stick to the spurs, if need be; yet by the way understand me not thus liberally, that I mean I would have you ride your Horse, till either you tire him, or make him forsake his gallop but only till you bring him to the height of his wind & strength, that then you may know thus much he will do without the violence of any extreme compulsion; and that when you spur him, you feel him in crease and not diminish in his labour: when you have thus done, & feel that if you should put him to more, than weakness would follow: you shall take him up, and throwing a cloth or two over him, you shall gently ride him up and down the field, till he be cool, and so ride him home to the stable, where clothing and stopping him close and warm, you shall feed him with the best bread, and use him in all things as you did in other former days after sore hunting, only no scouring but box and brimstone. All thursday and friday, you shall let him rest and tumble himself in the stable; only dressing him twice every day at his usual hours, and feeding him with the best bread as thoroughly as you can possibly: then on Saturday you shall ride him forth again, but you shall not by any means gallop him but only ride him gently from hill to hill, that he may stretch forth his legs, take the benefit of the fresh air, and recover his stomach which continually feeding and lying in the house, will soon peprive him off, you shall not this third day let him abide so long in the filled as you were formerly accustomed, but about two a clock at the furthest you shall bring him home, that he may be dressed, watered, and fed in due time; all Sunday is a day of rest, and there is nothing to be done, but to feed him only; upon Monday in the morning, as soon as you have fed him with bread, you shall then ride him forth on hunting again, but yet very slightly, that is, you shall gallop him very seldom, & but a little while together, only keep him abroad to get wind & a good stomach; Tuesday you shall rest as before: and on Wednesday, you shall hunt him as sore as you did the Wednesday before; or if his strength will abide it a little more; doing in every thing as well in the field as in the stable, as you did the other Wednesday before, only this Wednesday, if you find your horse to be of lusty and strong body, you shall after you come home, and have clothed your horse warm, give him the scouring of Sack, Salad oil and Sugar-candy, and use him as before hath been prescribed in the ninth Chapter, where this scouring is to be given. After this days sore hunting, and the giving of this scouring, you shall hunt or strain your horse no more by any means till the match day, but only ride him gently abroade after the Hounds, every day, or every other day to keep him in breath, and get him a stomach, never offering to gallop him: but when you find him so wanton disposed, that even of himself he desires to scope and play, yet than you shall forbear, and gallop him either not at all, or so little as is possible, your whole labour being employed by feeding to keep him in strength of body, and cleanness of wind. Now when you come within three days of the match day, then both the grooms and the Rider, must be very watchful and observant to attend the horse both night and day, for than you shall suffer him to eat as little hay asis possible, and indeed no more than shall serve to scour his teeth, or to prepay is stomach the better by the change of food: ●and what meat soever he eateth, I would have him either eat it out of your hand, or else to stand by and see him eat it, being ever ready whensoever he rises from his rest to present him fresh meat, observing when he refuses to eat the best bread, to give him some of the ordinary bread, and when he will neither eat of the best, nor of the ordinary; them to give him some oats, which oats I would have to be well kilne dried, them put into a sack and beaten as you beat wheat for the pot, then winnowed again, & well sunned, if he will eat any meat at all he will eat one of these three: you shall also let him drink very oft, that he may thereby drink but a little at once: for to drink much is not good, and to drink nothing at alis the worst that may be: if he be a horse of very gross and foul feeding, so that he will eat his litter, & such things as are about him; then assoon as you have filled his belly with good meat, you shall put upon his head a muzel, either made of canvas, or of leather, which being like a bag with two holes against his nostrils, so that he may take his breath (which covering all his mouth, shall keep him that he cannot eat) but when you would have him: yet this muzell I would not have you use above a night or two before your match day; and if your horse be of tender and dainty stomach, than I would neither have you use it at all, nor at all to take his hay from him. The day before his match, I would have you to spend in trimming your horse as colling of his main, ears, chaps, nostrils, and fetlocks, & upper parts of all his fourelegs, in seeing that his shoes be good, strong, light, easily and fast set on, also in anointing all his fore legs, and chaffing them with sovereign ointment and other medicines: all which because they most properly belong to the office of the groom or keeper, you shall find th● in the fifth book largely declared, where I only write of that office. Now when the night before the match day is come, you shall lodge yourself in the stable close by the horse; and having candlelight burning, where yourself may have use of it (but your horse not see it) you must be exceeding watchful; and as before I said, feed your horse with whatsoever he will best eat, as bread of any good kind, oats, oatmeal, or wheat ●ares, & now and then giving him out of your hand a lock or two of sweet hay to scour his teeth. To every handful of meat he eats, you shall give him a dish-full of water: and thus you shall apply feeding of him till within two hours, or three at the most before the hour in which you are to go forth into the field, and then you shall bridle him up, cause your groom to dress him, and in every point make him fit for his leading forth. And when you are at the pinch to go forth, you shall have ready a pint of good Sack, well brewed with Sugar-candy, and instantly give it him with a horn; then throwing the clothes over his saddle, & making them fast handsomely about him, you shall make the groom lead him gently in his hand to the appointed place of meeting; where when your adversary hath met you, and that the triers are ready, the train led forth, or if you hunt the Hare, the Hounds uncoopled, you shall then after you have drawn up your girths fast and firm (for as touching your bridle, stirrup leathers, and other implements about your horse, you must look to their fitness before you come forth of the stable) you shall then mount upon your horse, and so fall to your business. CHAP. 13. Of the riding of a match and of the advantages in riding. FOr as much as the well dieting and clean keeping of a horse, is not the only means either of winning or losing of a match, but that there must also be joined thereunto an especial Art and dexterity in riding, whereby through the goverumnt of the hand, the constant carriage of the man's body, and the temperate disposition of the mind, neither suddenly tempted to fury; nor to slow in reviving a horse in the time of necessity. I think it not amiss in this chapter to speak something touching riding, and the advantages therein. And because the hunting of train scents is only proper to matches and no other exercise, and whosoever is able to ride a train sent well, and like a Horseman, cannot but ride any chase else very sufficiently, I will therefore in this place suppose the match which is to be ridden to be only, with train scents, and a wild-goose chase, wherefore first for the riding of a train sent, your best advantage is the goodness of your seat by sitting firm and strongly in your saddle without either moving, or jogging too and fro therein, but as if you were made of one piece with the horse to bear yourself entirely with him in all his motions, and rather with the forwardness of your body to help him, then with any backward or contrary gesture to appear to be borne against your will by your horse's fury; or both loose motions, and contrary motions are troublesome to a horse, whence it comes that for mine own part I dislike much the custom of many of our northern riders, who (if you note them in matches) will as they ride stand up strait upon their stirrup leathers, so that if you come behind them, you may see day between their legs; being strongly conceited, that such raising up of themselves, doth ease the horse and makes him the less feel their burden but they are infinitely deceived, for such raising up of themselves, doth both trouble and a maze the horse, because a man cannot stand up stiffly on his stirroppes, but his legs perforce must touch and cleave to the Horses sides (as for the most part our match-hunters are) his spurs also must needs fridge upon his sides, which doth not only trouble, but move affright in the horse; & in true rule a horseman should neither let his spur nor leg touch his horse; but when he will either correct or help his horse. Besides, the danger in such sort of riding is worse than all the rest, for when a man stands upon his stirrup leathers, and forsakes the hold of his knees, if the horse shall but chance either to stumble, trip, or start in his running, the Rider having forsaken the strength of his seat must of necessity fall over his horses ears, and so either endanger his neck, or the horses running over him. Next to the constant carriage of your body, you must be sure to ●arrie your arms (chiefly from the elbow to the shoulder) close to your body, and not (as I have seen many of our match-hunters do) let them fly loosely up and down as if you had no commandment of them, or when you are either cast behind in a race, or when your horse's sloth craves the use of your rod not to fetch your hand as high as your head, to give your blow; and so ride lashing and lashing, as if at every stroke you would cast your arm from your shoulder, but only by making use of that part of your arm from your elbow to your wrist, fetch your blow stiffly and sharply, and by that means one blow shall do more good than twenty; for it is the far fetching of the blow, but the quick delivery that breeds the pain of correction; neither the number of the strokes, but the time & manner of striking▪ for to lie beating a horse continually (as I have seen some do a whole sent thorough) doth even dull & make the horse careless of the rod, when as using it seldom & sharply, it will make him spring and strain whilst there is life in his body. And as you thus temper your hand for yur rod, so you must also govern your leg & your spur, and not for every sleight fault or sloth strike him with your spurs, but first help him with the calves of your legs, & when toil and weariness makes him careless of them, than you shall add the stroke of your spurs, & when you strike do it sound, that you may every time make the blood follow, and in any case never spur oft together in one place, for fear of making him dull upon the spurs, nor by any means turn your heels inward before the for most garth, to gripe him with your spurs of each side of the heart, which is the tenderest of all places, till it be at the very pinch of a wager, and that the gaining or losing of one yard of ground is the winning or losing of the match, & then you shall do it most strongly, and with all thrust your body forward with good violence. Next these, you shall observe to carry your bridle hand close, hard & firm, so that by no means your horse may have liberty to run at his utmost speed, nor yet to hold it so exceeding hard, that either you make your horse with pinching writhe his head, and give signs of torment, or for want of convenient liberty, to make him in his gallop to overreach & strike one foot upon another, the mean temper therefore is to be observed, yet for as much as the speed, or slackness of your adversaries riding, is an especial rule that you must follow (for if he run away fast, you must not ride softly) it is necessary that your own discretion be your best guide in this matter; only this take for a general rule in your riding, that by any means when you run or gallop, you oft draw your hands up & down both easing and straining your bridle, to bring sweetness to your horse's mouth; and if you find your horse presses his head much upon your hand, & will not open his chaps, which is a great sign either of stopping of wind, or weariness, them you shall not only draw up your bridle hand, but laying your other hand also to the bridle reins, draw the snaffle to and fro in the horse's mouth, which will both make him open his mouth, and give him much comfort. Also you shall observe, that when you ride your horse at the height of his speed, if then when you spur him, you see him clap his ears close to his neck, and whisk with his tail, you may then be assured that he is at the uttermost he is able to do, & if you continue further to torment him, you will either make him grow restive or else tire suddenly; wherefore in any case when you perceive these signs, forbear to torment him & giving him all the ease that is possible let the forward motions of your own body, & your cheerfulness upon his back, serve instead of a pair of spurs to quicken & revive him. After these observations of your body, legs, & hands, you shall then note the ground upon which you do run, observing to restrain your horse the more upon fair earth, because out of his own nature he is more willing to run fast there upon, and to give him a little more liberty upon deep earth, as well because he may make his choice how to handle his feet thereupon for his best ease, as also because it being more full of labour, a horse is inclined the more to favour himself thereupon, also you shall up the hill hold your horse somewhat strait for fear of running him out of wind, & also do the like down the hill, lest too much haste should make him stumble & fall over. Next this you shall observe the manner of the horses running which runs against you, & if you perceive he be a horse of any fiery nature, 'tis your best advantage to ride directly behind him, that making a noise, and as it were even treading upon his heels, you may put him into such an affright and madness, that you may make him only run faster than his rider would have him; but also with fretting and chaffing make him hurt himself as much as if he ran at his uttermost power; but if your adversary refuse & will not let you ride just behind him, you shall then (especially in the first train, when he is most lusty) keep him to such a slow gallop, that with his own madness striving to go faster, you may make him over reach, or hue one foot over another, which is an ordinary accident in matches, and at the latter end of the day, is felt to be both painful and hurtful; you shall also observe your adversary well as he rides by you, and note when and how oft he spurs, which although he think to do closely and covertly that you shall not see it as by spurring upon that side which is from you; yet if you mark the horse, he will tell you truly, as either by whisking his tail about, couching down both his ears, or holding down one of his ears, and pricking forward the other, or by writhing his body, or kicking his head up suddenly (all which are signs of spurring) and when you do perceive them, and feel that your own horse runs freely without desire of spur, you shall then hold your speed, & not ease it by any means, that thereby keeping your adversary upon the spurs, you may the sooner make him weary; you shall also note well the carriage of your adversaries bridle hand, and if you see him ride with a loose rain, and his horse's nose carried strait forth, then 'tis most certain he is at his best speed; but if you perceive him ride with a loose rain, only now and then he chockes him in the mouth with his bridle, then 'tis a flat sign he grows faint, and will presently tire, if you keep on your speed still, and give him no ease of breathing: you shall also observe upon what earths he rides most unnimbly, and upon that earth when you run, you shall ride the fastest, that your adversary being compelled to follow you, may with stumbling and reeling either over reach or hurt himself. Now when you have ridden all your train scents according unto your match, and that you are come to run the Wild goose chase, you shall understand that in riding of it, there are divers observations very necessary, which cannot be used in any of the former scents, as namely when you first start the Wild-goose chase, and have gotten the leading, if then as you are running unto such grounds as shall be most for your advantage; as unto deep and foul earths, if your horse be strong & rough, or unto fair skelp grounds, if your horse be swift and of fierce metal, that then if your adversary have the better wind, and upon speed come and offer to take the leading from you, you shall then suffer him to bring his horse head within your horse's flank, and then look on which hand he cometh, as if he come upon your right hand, you shall then clap your right leg close to your horse's side, & drawing your bridle hand in a little straighter, hurl your horse roundly about upon your left hand: this is called a slip, and with this slip you shall make your adversaries horse over shoot you at least three or fourscore yards, and as oft as he strives thus, to t●ke the leading from you; so oft give him these slips, till either you come into such ground as is fit for your purpose, or else your adversary leave striving against you: it is exceeding good also in this case, when your adversary strives to take the leading from yo● if then (having ground fit for your purpose, as either ditch, hedge, or such like) you run your horse as though you would leap over the hedge or ditch, and observe that your adversary run very fast, and very near you: then when you come even to the brim of the ditch, you shall hurl your horse suddenly upon that side which is from your adversary, and so run away, and neither leap the hedge nor ditch, by means whereof it is great odds, but your adversary coming fast after you, and being unprepared, can neither will nor choose but either leap the ditch, or run into the ditch, then if he do leap it he must also leap it back again; which double toil and double ground running, will soon bring a horse to faintness. Now if your horses are of such equal speeds, strengths, and toughness, that having run and gallopp whilst they are able, yet their goodness cannot be tried, so that they are fain to troth, nay if they come to such weakness that they are not able to trot, nay scarcely to walk foot pace, as I have known divers, & ridden some of those matches, than you shall be very careful & it will ask you great toil and much art to bring your horse to new strength, for first if you let him stand, then 'tis certain he will fall down: if you spur him, you take away the remnant of the small courage is left him, and make him yield so much sooner than he would do, if you thrust him forward with your body, his body wanting strength to answer yours, will not be moved with the motion; & if you strike him with your rod, you do but make his despair the greater: wherefore in this case you have no course but this; first, you must sit fast, & as even in your seat as is possible (for the least swerving now is the loss of the match) and only carrying your toes finely inward, you shall gently with the calves of your le●s apply him upon the sides with reasonable fast motions; which carrying in them neither torment nor trouble, will but only keep him moving, that moving will keep him warm, and that warmth will in the end revert back to his heart, and bring him new strength. For the reason of a horses tiring is nothing but this: when the inward heat is by the violence of extreme labour driven into the outward parts, and there is nothing but coldness left to accompany the heart, then of necessity must follow faintness, than weariness, and lastly flat tiring. There be divers horsemen (of this manner of riding) in this land, who have better names and reputations for skill then ever I shall deserve, or am ambitious to desire, whom I myself have noted in the depth of these extremities wilfully to lose their wagers, only for the want of the true use of the hand and leg, spurring their horses when they thought but to help them with the calves of their legs: & but touching them with the calves of their legs, when they should most surest have spurred them: & I remember once I saw a match ridden by 2. of the best reputed horsemen of this nation, & the one of them in my conscience hath no equal; who having ridden till they came to the walking, the hindermost beast neither to my sight, nor any riders by, had any stroke of spur to be perceived, yet before they had ended walking, & during the time of walking in stead of helping his beast with the calves of his legs he spurred so unreasonably, that one might have washed their hands upon the sides of the beast, so that when the leader began to get strength, and to be able to gallop, the other fell down to the earth, where had the horsemen been of equal cunning, the hindmost had made a very jade of the foremost. This digression I only make but for your better understanding, that you may know, that it is not sufficient to know how to rub and dress a horse, how to diet and make him clean, how to make your match, sit in your saddle, & spur him; but you must also know how to spur, when to spur, how to help, when to help, and all the other rules of a good horseman, or else in your wagers to have great disadvantage. Assoon as your match is ridden and tried out, if you find there be strength in your horse, you may light from his back, and throwing his clothes over the saddle, ride him gently home, but if he be so weak run that you feel him faint, you shall light from his back, and if you can get (as I would not have a Horseman without it) three or four spoonfuls of Doctor Steuens water, and pour it into him, then rubbing him, and chase him a little, cast his clothes over him, and so ride him softly home. After he is come into the Stable, where he must have litter up to the belly, you shall first make the Grooms rub him as dry as may be, then with a little sack heated ●ot in a porringer, you shall bathe his back where the Saddle stood, which will keep him from warbles; than you shall bathe his sides where he hath been spurred with piss and salt, then anoint the sore places with Turpentine and powder of jet mingled together, then cloth him up as warm as may be, and after he hath stood an bower, the first meat you give him would be two or three handfuls of wheat ears corn and all, then give him a warm mash, and a bottle of hay, then anoint all his four legs with train oil warmed, and so let him stand till night, and then feed him well with bread and so rest till the next morning. CHAP. 14. The Tryars' office, and the advantages he must observe. THese triers are certain indifferent Gentlemen, chosen by both the parties that make the match, who are to see that there be fair play, and that the Articles be fully performed on both parties, each doing the best he can for the advantage of the horse for the which he is chosen. And these triers should be Gentlemen that are well experienced in hunting matches, and are both good horsemen, good hunt-smen, and light burdens, for they ought to ride by the match-horses all the day long, to direct and control the Riders, if at any time they ride contrary to the Articles, to which end they are to have divers fresh horses provided them, that when one fails they may take another. The first thing the triers shall do when they come into the field, shall be to have the Articles read as much as concerns the riding of the match only, and to conceive them so well in their minds, that when they see any thing done to the contrary, they may control or else stay the horses from riding, till the error be either amended, or else satisfied: then after lots have been cast which side shall have the leading of the first train, that Trier to whose lot it falls, after he hath conferred with the Rider, and knows the nature and disposition of his horse, he shall appoint some discrete horseman, that is able to follow his directions to lead out the train: he shall tell him upon what earth he shall lead it, and how long, or how short he shall make it, according to the Articles. Then after the match-horses are started, the Triers shall ride by them, or behind them, so it be not within a horse's length, for fear of treading upon their heels (which were an inexcusable error in a Trier: and if either of the match-horses shall latch or loiter behind, and not ride so near as he ought by the Articles. The Trier of the contrary part shall first command him to ride nearer, which if immediately he do not, than the Trier shall ride to him, and give the match-horse a iert with his rod: if that prevail not, he shall not leave ierting the Horse till he have brought him within the compass of his law, and then he may beat him no more. If it happen that the match-horse which leads the way, upon the occasion of any turn which the train hath made, do turn upon either hand, and then the Horse, which follows, being a good distance behind, do for his advantage seek to cross and thwart over to the foremost horse (which is most foul riding) and so to gain ground: the trier of the contrary part shall ride up to him, and both command him to ride fair, and with his Horse shoulder him up whether he will or no, till he come to the place where the first Horse turned, against which if the Rider strive, it is lawful for the trier to take his Horse, by the head, and make him ride his true ground, for many of those advantages in a days hunting will amount to more ground, then will suffice for the trial of the match. As soon as the train is ended, than the Riders are to light from the match-horses; for there is commonly allowed them between every train, half an hour to rub and trim their horses, & to dry away the sweat. During which time, the second train is in making; now it is the triers office whilst the horses are in rubbing, that each of them look not to the Horse of whose side he is chosen, but to the Horse against whom he is chosen, & to look that the groom which rubs him use no decit in rubbing, as to have his hands anointed with any comfortable oils or confections; and then taking occasion to pull out his horse's tongue to stroke or wipe it, which is very foul play, and therefore held unlawful for any man, groom, or other, to put his hand in his horse's mouth, but only to rub him with woollen and linen clothes till he be dry. The triers shall not suffer the match-horses to be rubbed longer than their due time; but assoon as the hover is come, to commanud the riders to mount, which if either of them refuse, it is lawful for the other which is ready to ride away and leave him: and being gone from him the distance which commonly is twelve score, or twenty score, the match is won and lost. If in the trains there be any leaps, the triers shall see that if one Horse follow another, that then the hindmost horse leap in the same place where the foremost did leap, or else it is lawful to bring him back again; if they ride cheek by cheek, than they shall leap one within a horse length of another. The trier shall precisely note the manner of that Horses riding against whom he is chosen, and according to the advantages, which he perceives, so shall he instruct the Rider for whose side he is chosen, as when to ride softly, when fast, when to lead, and when to follow. He shall also as he rides mark which grounds are best for the Horse, whose part he takes, and which are the worst for the Horse which he is against, and accordingly, so he shall appoint the making of the trains. If any train shall be made longer than the agreement of the Articles, either of the Tryars finding of the fault, and being sure it is a fault, it is lawful for him to stay the Horse of whose side he is, and not to suffer him to ride further in that train; and if the other Horse will ride forward still, he may do it upon his own hazard. When all the trains are ended, and that the Wild-goose chase is begun, the Triars then shall with all faithfulness and care keep the horses as near as they can together, and if either of them shall fall short one of the other, by no means to spare whipping of the hindmost till either they bring him up to the foremost or else that the foremost getting his law of the hindmost, do win the wager; and when the triers shall behold the match brought to this exigent, than he which is chosen for the foremost horse, shall if need require, ride to the foremost horse, and help his rider to whip him on till the wager be won. The triers shall also during the wild goose chase, take great care that no by slander (as it is a common custom) gallop his horse before the match horses, seeming as though either he rid upon other business, or else that his Horse runs away with him, when as in truth he doth it to lead or direct one of the match horses, which having strength enough to run, yet will refuse to run except he see some other horse lead him the way. The triers shall also at the latter end of the day, when horses are almost spent, take care that the throng of such as ride by, do not press in upon the horses, but that they may have both liberty of way and air enough: for the breath of other horses is very noisome to a horse, when he grows weary. The last and principal note of all other which the triers shall take, is, when he comes first into the field, to mark how the horse is girt, which is of the contrary part, and by some special marks or observations about the tabs to know how his garths do hold of one straightness, or how they alter, for if you find after a train or two that they grow slacker and are any thing at all more drawn up, it is an evil sign, but if after a train or two more, they slack again the second time, or whensoever they slack the second time, be most certainly assured that the horse is faint, neither is he able to endure much riding after. This rule of all other is most certain, and doth without deceit declare a horses inward inclination, where on the contrary part, as long as a horse keeps his body, and holds his garths fast and strait, so long he is ever in good strength, lust and courage. Many other observations there be, which for as much as they are for the most part governed by the Articles and agreements of the parties which are the match makers, I think it not fit to trouble you with them at this time; hoping that these already declared, will be sufficient to prepare you for any match whatsoever. CHAP. 15 The office of the Groom, and helps in rubbing of hunting horses. IDoe not here intent to speak generally of the office of the Groom of the Stable, because the fifth Book hath it at large described, but only of that little part of his Office, which he is to exercise in the field when a horse doth hunt any match for a wager, and that is, whereas at the end of every train sent, the rider is to light from his horse, and the Groom is to rub him and dry the sweat from his body, I would have every Groom know that he must provide half a dozen several clothes, every one at least a yard in compass; three being of canvas and three of good thick cotton, all these clothes he must a day or two before the match steep in piss and saltpeter boiled together, and then hang them up in the air, that they may be dry against the match day, then would I have him have two other clothes, one of woollen the other of canvas, which having lain a day or two steeped in the same piss and saltpeter, he shall carry wet to the field, and as soon as the train is finished, and the rider dismounted, the grooms shall first with their dry clothes rub away all the sweat from the horses head and face, and also from his neck, body, buttocks, flanks, fore booths, belly, cod, and every other part: and whilst one is busied about these upper parts, another Groom must be rubbing his legs dry, and as soon as he hath got them dry, he shall then take his wet clothes, and with them never leave rubbing his legs, and joints, till the rider be ready to take his back again, and believe it the benefit you shall find thus doing is more than you will well credit. Thus shall you do at the end of every train, and then fear not either faintness or unnimblenesse in his joints, which of all other parts of a horses body, do soon fail him. And thus much for this part of the grooms office, and the other knowledges appertaining to hunting horses. The end of the third Book. CAVELARICE OR The Tracconer, Containing the Art and Secrets which belong to Ambling Horses, and how that pace is to be taught to any Horse whatsoever. The fourth Book. LONDON Printed for Ed. White, and are to be sold at his shop near the little North door of Saint Paul's Church at the sign of the Gun. 1607. To the Right Honourable and most noble and mighty Lord Thomas Howard Earl of Arundel and Surrey. THere is nothing (most noble & mighty Lord) which hath more incited me to this weary labour (which I hope I have to good purpose effected) then the grace which I have noted 〈◊〉 your 〈◊〉 self and other princes of your rank liberally bestow upon the Art of horsemanshipp both by your own practice and the encouragement of others, which doth not only assure 〈◊〉 that no peace shall make the glory of wa●e neglected, but doth also make me hope to live to see in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as famous a nursery of horsemen and horses, 〈◊〉 ever hath be●ne 〈◊〉 in Italy or Naples, and though my boldness in daring to present my ruder skill to your honour able judgement may justly be challenged to have no garments but a naked boldness, yet the love I am bound to bear to that most honourable house (into which you have now most happily planted yourself) I hope will be both my defence and protection, by which I know you will both take delight to pardon, and myself be proud to esteem myself your srruant. Gervase Markham. To all those which love their ease in traveling. AMongst all the parts or members into which the art of Horsemanship is divided, there is none so generally followed, or hath got more professors to defend it then this art of ambling, and yet is there no part of horsemanship more misgoverned or vildelye handl● by unskilful workmen, through whom there 〈◊〉 not only multitudes of Horses spoiled & made inseruiceable, but also a great company of skilful horsemen which know the true use of Art, obscured and kept under by the 〈◊〉 boasts of most ignorant impostors, whi●h to 〈◊〉 and that even common sen● may know how to make the best election, I have in this treatee following, 〈◊〉 down the rules both of true art and false ●actise, recon●ling them so together with the strength of my best reason●, that I doubt not but they will give to any peaceable 〈◊〉 a full satisfaction, in which if any man find profit, it is the thing I only wish them, and if they vouch safe me thanks, it is enough for my labour. And so wishing you all the ease that can be coupled to labour, I leave you to your own thoughts of me and of my works. Farewell. G. M. CAVELARICE: The fourth Book. CHAP. 1. Of ambling in general, and of the uses and commodities thereof. I did some few years agone, partly to give the world a little taste of that knowledge, which many good horsemen had neglected in their writings, and partly to show a long absent friend the remembrance of my love, writ a little sleight treatise touching the making of horses to amble, which because I have found by many of my worthy friends gently acepted, albe the brevity & obscurity might well have been controlled; I thought it not amiss in this book to demonstrate the whole art in as large and ample characters as is fit for the understanding both of the better or more duller spirit, wherefore first to speak of ambling in general, it is that smooth & easy pace which the labour and industry of an ingenious brain hath found out to relie●●he 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 tent and diseased persons, to make women undertake journeying, and so by their comunity to grace society; to make great men by the ease of travel more willing to thrust themselves into the offices of the common wealth, & to do the poor both relief & service▪ ●t makes him whom necessity or (as the proverb is) whom the devil drives, not to be vexed with two torments a troubled mind and a tormented body, to conclude, ambling was found out for the general ease of the whole world, as long as there is either pleasure, commerce or trade amongst people. Now for the manner of the motion, & the difference betwixt it, & trotting, it cannot be described more plainly than I have set down in my former treatise which is that, it is the taking up of both the legs together upon one side, & so carrying them smoothly along, to set them down upon the ground even together, and in that motion be must lift and wind up his fore foot some what high from the ground, but his ●nder foo● he must no more b●t take from the ground, and as it were sweep it close by the earth. Now by taking up of both his legs together upon one side, I mean he must take up his right fo●e foot, and his left hinder foot, For as in the contrary ●ace when a horse trots, he takes up his feet as the Italian●aies ●aies Travatto which is cross wise, as the left hinder foot & the right fore foot, or the left forefoot, & the right hinder foot; & in that motion must lift up his hinder foot to the full height of his forefoote presenting a kind of gallantry or vaulting pride in his pace, so this ambling motion in his smooth stealing away, & as it were with a soft & tender touching of the ground, ●arties his burden away gently without shaking, For as if you precisely mark a horse when he trots under a man, you shall see that the taking up of his legs cross wise, doth likewise advance the man's body cross wise, as thus: the Horse lifting from the ground his right forefoote, and his left hinder foot, raiseth with them the man's right thigh and his left buttock, and then setting them down together, gives as it were a kind of jump to the man's whole body, and the higher such a horse takes up his hinder foot the harder is his pace, for indeed it is only the taking up of the hinder foot, which makes the pace hard or easy, whence it comes that trotting horses which take their hinder feet gently, and but a little way from the ground, and so set them down tenderly are called easy trotting horses▪ so ambling horses taking both their legs up together of one side, as the right forefoote, and the right hinder foot, do in their motion not lift up but carry as it were in a direct line, the man's right thigh, and his right buttock, and so setting down his feet gently, give the man neither jump nor other distemper, but following on with his left feet likewise, carries the man's whole body away in an even smoothness. Now when a horse either for want of true teaching, or by some other naurall custom, takes up his hinder feet in his amble either higher than he should do, or sets them down harder than he should do, which you shall know by the waving or shaking of the neither part of his tail (for when a horse goes smooth & right, his tail will hang strait & comely) them such horses are said to roll in their pace, to be rough and uneasy amblers. Now for the first original or beginning of ambling. Pliny writes it came from that part of the coast of Spain, which we call Galicia, where (saith he) Horses do amble naturally, and that other men & other nations from the imitation of them (finding the commodity of such ease in long & tedious journeys (began the of compelling Horses to amble with a certain dovise made of cords and lines se●tred and bound about horses feet, from whence I gather this, that doubtless the tramel of which I am to speak more largely hereafter, was the first and most ancientest invention that ever was found out for the making of horses to amble, and what other devices or witty second have since those times issued from men's brains or labours, to bring this work to pass by any other method, I verily imagine to have their beginnings from this, as the very fountain from whence other men draw their rivers. Now that the horses of Galicia do naturally amble, or that any other horse whatsoever doth naturally amble, as in my former small treatise, so in this I differ in the opinion, and think as therein I manifest, that where foals amble, there is either some imperfection of strength, or some casual mischance, which did alter the first determination of nature: for it is most certain, that what horse soever doth amble of himself without either instruction or compulsion, hath either weakness in his body, or imperfection in his spirit; so that wanting either ability to raise his body aloft forcibly, or spirit to thrust out his natural pride gallantly, he is forced to bring his feet to this smooth and humble passage. Now of ambles there be two sorts, a thorough amble, & a broken amble, or a certain amble, & incertain amble, the thorough or certain amble is that which is contained in thorough and certain strides where the horse passes his feet forth at the length smoothly, certainly, and with deliberation in short space, and with few paces passing over a good quantity of ground, carrying his burden just even and without trouble; and this amble is that which appertains both to those horses which we call natural amblers, & also to those horses which being of cool and temperate dispositions, are by art and industry brought to be more perfit in ambling, than those which we say have it by nature. The broken or incertain amble is that which is contained within the compass of the self same motion that the certain amble is; only it is done in 'sheart, quick, and busy strides, a horse taking up his feet both of one side so thick and roundly together, that a man's eye cannot say, that his feet are down before they be up again, with many steps, & in a long time going but a little way, which of some horsemen is called a train, or rack, and it is never to be seen either in foals, unridden horses, or horses that are of any coolness or sobriety in journeying, but for the most part it is ever in hot frantic small naggs, which trotting exceeding well, are compelled to amble by some disorderly compulsion. It many times comes to horses by over-riding them; so that through weariness not being able to advance their bodies so lustily as in their best strength they come to this shuffling & broken incertain pace, which is neither amble nor trot, but a mixture of both, as taking his time keeping from trotting; and his motion of legs from ambling, and so compound this which is called a train or racking. Now for the horse of Galicia, that they are more subject to this pace of ambling than any other horses bred in spain, I am easily induced to believe it, because it being the coldest and most barrainest part of that continent, must by good consequence bring the weakest and worst horses, so that wanting both the heat of the Sun, and the nourishing benefits which other races have, out of their want of strength they fall to the pace of ambling: & this beside we know by experience, that even the best bred gennets in all Spain have those weaknesses of i●●ts 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that a man shall not see one amongst ten, but is inclined either to a train or amble. And yet for mine own part should I have written of the original of ambling. I should assoon have taken this Empire of great Britain 〈◊〉 an example as any part of Spain, or Galicia, holding that sure it is with us as ancient as the use of travel, or the first knowledge of the first English gelding, which geldings we find more naturally addicted to ambling then any stand horse whatsoever, which I take to proceed either from the impediment of their sores when they are first gelt, or else from the coolness of their natures when those instruments of heat and lust are taken from them. Now for the use of this pace, it is only for longiourncies, where either our necessary business, or service to the state, or any other particular affair calls us forth into the world, and makes us change our domestical quiet for much labour and toil in travail, Now for the commodity thereof, it is the case of our bodies, preserving us from aches, conunlsions, chollickes, gallings, and such like tormen: it is a maintainer of our healths by helping us to use the best exercise with sufferance and moderation, it is the best preserver of our estates in this world, making us follow our own affairs with our own diligence, and not like men imprisoned to trust to half speaking solicitors: to conclude take away the ambling horse, and take away the old man, the rich man, the weak man; nay generally all men's travels; for Coaches a● but for streets, and carts can hardly pass in winter. And thus much for the generality of ambling, and the profit. CHAP. 2. Why foals amble from their dams and how to make them amble if they do not. THe reasons why a Foal may amble, when it sucks upon the Dam, or that the first pace which it is seen to tread may be an amble; are many & divers, besides those which I have repeated in my small treatise, as namely weaknesses springing from the first generation, or conception, or else mischances in foaling, as when a foal falls in hollow ground, uneven ditches, or such like wild places, where the foal striving to get upon the feet, but cannot, doth beat itself into such weakness, that when it is got upon the feet and should go, it is not able to troth, but even through extreme faintness shifts his feet into this pace of ambling; besides these (as I said) there are other more strong causes of foals ambling, as namely if a Foal be foaled with weak hooves, so that when it comes to stand upon the feet, the cronets of the hooves do sink inward and are painful to the foals going, In this case the grief of the hooves keep the Foal that it cannot troth, but is forced for ease sake to alter the natural pace, and to amble. This weakness of the hooves you may plainly deseerne both by the fashion of the hoof, which will be flat and thin, and also by the Cronet of the hoof, which will not be swelling outward as it should be, but flat and sunk inward without any semblance: and these horses for the most pare do seldom live long, nor have many good conditions: another reason there is for the ambling of foals, and that is, if any man shall come to the Mare when ●he hath new foaled, and scaring the Mare, make the Foal start upon it feet before it be licked over, or that the soles of the hooves are hardened; if this happen it is most certain that the foal will never troth, but presently falls to amble: from these & such like occasions hath sprung the opinion that foals naturally do amble, and owners not seeing them have any other paces, strongly imagine that ambling is the child of nature, when indeed it is the bastard, begot by mischance and weakness. But if it be so, that for as much as those amblers which thus do amble even from the womb of their Dams, are ever the perfectest, swistest, and most certainest in their pace, as hardly knowing, at least never using any other motion, it be your desire to have your foals to amble thus under their Dams, albe for mine own part I have little fancy or liking therein, yet it is to be done three several ways: the first and best is, if you take a Foal when it is two or three days old, and that you see it trotteth perfitly, and with a fine sharp Butteris or pairing knife, spare the hoof of the Foal so thin as may be; so that it cannot tread upon the ground, but with much soreness, and then put it to the Dam again, and you shalsee it presently through the tenderness of the feet, refuse to trot, and instantly strike into an amble. And if after the hardening of the hoofs you find that out of spirit and courage it fall to troth again, than you shall pair the hooves again, and so in a short time you shall see it will utterly forget trotting. The second way but somewhat worse to make a Foal amble, is to take soft linen rags, and therewithal to garter up the foals hinder legs, three fingers above the cambrel, but not to do it very strait, & so to let it run a week or ten days, in which space it is most certain the foal will fall to a ready amble, which as soon as he doth, you shall immediately ungarter his legs, for the use of the garters is but only to bring him to the alteration of his pace. The third way & worst way, is to watch the mare when she is in foaling, & assoon as she hath licked it & done her office, you shall go unto the foal, and before it be able to arise from the ground, you shall with your hands, raise up the hinder parts from the ground, making it stand upon the hinder feet, and kneel upon the fore knees and so staying it by the hinder loins, compel it to rise up before, as for the most part oxen, and kine do, and if a man will put any trust in antiquity; This manner of raising a Foal first from the ground, will make it amble, and for mine own part though I have been too scrupulous to approve it, yet such strong reasons do govern me, that I do believe it is most possible, and as likely as either of the former which I have experienced. Now although these three several practices, will bring to effect the thing you look for, yet each of them hath their several evils, and do many times create those mischiefs, which do exceed and blemish the virtues for which they were first put into use, except there be such Art, judgement, and discretion mixed with the practice, as may both warrant and defend it from following evils, As first the paring of a foals hooves so young, and bringing him to such a tenderness of treading, makes him ever after whilst he is a horse, soft footed, & when he comes to tread upon stony or soft ground, you shall see him snapper and many times tread false; only out of the tickle and quick feeling of his feet, besides the paring a Hoof so young makes it grow thick & flat, so that when the foal comes to be a horse, he will neither bear his shoes so well as otherwise he would have done, but also be much more apt to heat, surbate, or founder with sleight travel. Now for the second practice which is the gartering up of his hinder legs, that will make a foal have thick and four cambrels, insomuch that his joints will appear gouty and unsuitable, especially if you garter any thing too straight, it is somewhat dangerous for the breeding of blood spavens in foals, because the blood being stopped so many days together within the veanes, doth many times corrupt and take part with other gross humours, which are the causes of that sorance; Lastly (and which is the worst fault of all) the ambling pace which is got by this experience is nothing comely to the eye, (albe it often fall out to be most easy) for the gartering of the foals legs, makes it cramble with the hinder parts, and go both crookedly and illfavouredly. Now for the last practice, which is the raising up of a Foal first behind when it is new fallen, besides that, it is not decent to handle or meddle with such young creatures, till their dams have discharged their kindnesses, & that they have taken natural and orderly stifning: It is with horsemen held both unwholesome and dangerous to the life of the Foal, for it is most certain that the compulsion which is therein used, brings the Foal to a most extraordinary weakness and faintness, from whence and from no other secret, proceeds the alteration of the pace: wherefore since there are thus many dangers in these two early trials; and that the working of these single benefits in foals, may lose all the future hopes and services which a man expects when they come to be Horses; I would for mine own part wish all Gentlemen, how much soever they are naturally inclined to their own ease, to omit and let pass this pactising upon foals (except it be at some special time when; for the bettering of their knowledges, they will try the examples of their reading) and only to put in use those practices which are fit for the horses of elder age, as four, five, six, or seven, which having both strength and power to perform, and ability of body and member to endure the uttermost which art can invent to impose upon them, are more worthy of your labour, and more near to your present service: & of them I purpose wholly to entreat hereafter. CHAP. 3. How to teach a horse to amble by the help of a new plowde field, and the faults therein. THere both have been & are many questions raised (not by horsemen, for they know the truth of art, but by such as bear the false shapes of Horsemen, as amblers, common horse breakers, (alike in quality to Mountebanks & horse collars) touching the making of horses to amble, some inveighing against one practice, some against another, never contented with any one certainly, but with that which either they have most used, or is last in learning, so that to reconcile them, and bring them to an unity both in art and opinion, were a labour tedious and infinite, neither will I spend mine hours so unprofitably: yet it is most certain there is but one truth and one true way to hit the mark we shoot at, which because my knowledge shall neither be a judgement nor Oracle, I will not so much arrogate to say this is it, but unfold at large all the several practices which either myself have experienced, or else noted in other men's labours, together with such errors as pursue & follow every such method, so that every ripe & industrious brain, may by comparing the fruits & faults together; easily judge which practice deserves the best entertainm●t & is most worthy a popular imitation; wherefore to begin with the manner of making horses to amble, the first way that I found, which carried in it any substantial ground of reason: was to make a horse amble with the help of a new deep ploughed field, where a horses legs might sink deep into the earth, and make his labour painful, and it is to be done in this sort. You shall first put into your horse's mouth, (if it be tender and good) a Snaffle very round, smooth and full, of a size somewhat bigger than an ordinary traveling snaffle, and with that ride your horse into some deep new ploughed field, All the way as you ride into the field, not suffering your horse to troth, but rather to go footpace. Adjoining to this field, you shall have either some fair high way, or else some plain green mear, and then being upon the highway, you shall pluck up your bridle with both your hands, so that your Snaffle may not rest upon his ch● but upon the weeks of his mouth, and then spurring him gently forward, see if he will alter his pace, which if he will not (as it is most likely) you shall then thrust him upon the deep lands, and there you shall toil him up and down for a quarter of an hour, in as swift a foot pace as you can make him go, suffering him not by any means to trot, although he be never so hasty, nor labouring much to make him amble though you should find him willingly inclined thereunto, but only keeping him to the height of his footpace, and bearing your bridle rain aloft as was before told you. After you have thus toiled him a pretty while upon the lands, you shall then bring him to the high way again, and then approve to make him amble by holding up your bridle hand, carrying the reins thereof strait, and by helping him with the calves of your legs, one after another, and sometimes with your spurs one after another also, as thus: if when he begins to break and alter his pace, he give you now and then a little jump upon your right buttock as he goes, than you may know that he treads false with his right hinder leg, so that then you shall give him either the calf of your right leg or your right spur hard to his side, but if he do the like with his left hinder foot than you shall give him the help and correction upon the left side, for you must know that in ambling it is ever the hinder foot and not the forefoot which treadeth false, and if you do but precisely mark of which of your buttocks, or of which side of your body you feel the most shaking or jogging, you shall easil●e perceive which foot treads amiss, and therefore it is necessary that before you take upon you, to teach horses to amble, you be so well experienced in the knowledge & feeling of the pace, that you may at the first apprehend the least step that your horse can tread amiss. After you have thus the second time approud your horse upon the high way, if yet notwithstanding he will not fall to any am●●●●, you shall then labour him again upon the deep lands, in the same manner as you did before, only in a swift foot pace, and thus continue from the lands to the high way, and from the high way to the lands, without ceasing, or giving any rest till what through 〈◊〉 weariness, and what through the restraint and help of your hand, he in the end break his pace, and begin to strike an amble, which as soon as he doth, you shall cherish him therein, and so fair and softly ride him home, give him some provender, and let him rest three or four hours: then take him forth again, and if you find him any thing untoward, or forgetful of what he last learned, you shall then in the same manner, and with the same labour practise him again, till you make him do somewhat more, and some what better than he did at the first teaching, and then ride him home again. In this manner you shall exercise your horse, at least thrice a day, till you have brought him that he will strike out his amble truly and freely, which believe it he will very suddenly do, because (for mine own part) I have neither seen, nor in mine own practice found any horse which this manner of labour would not bring to strike a fair amble in less than an hour and a halves trouble, the toiling upon the lands, and the temper of your hand, which neither restrains him so much that he can stand still, or use disorder, nor giving him so much liberty that he may trot or gallop, breeding such a confused amazement in his mind, that he can find no way to ease himself, but by the alteration of his pace. Now whereas the principal respect a man is to have in teaching horses to amble, is that they strike their hinder feet home, rather half a foot over, then half an inch short of their forefeet; this manner of teaching doth perform it without any trouble or toil of the Rider, b●cause the horse being brought to his amble out of a footpace, he doth ever strike out his feet to the uttermost length, and begins his ambler in the longest strides that may be. Also this kind of instruction hath no need of massy or heavy shoes, to bring down the hinder feet, but the very toil in his footpace upon the deep earth, is as sufficient as any poised or weight a man can devise for the purpose. Of all the several ways to make a horse amble with the hand only, there is none in my conceit so absolutely praiseworthy, as this: both because it delivers the pace in easiest and best manner which is out of a footpace, and also is governed and accompanied with so many several corrections, that a horse cannot so soon err, as even the ground on which he treads (which is deep ploughed lands) and the pain of his own motions when his feet are misplaced, will give him notice and help for amendmend; insomuch that had not mine experience waded into some better trials, surely I should give this method, the only precedency and superiority; but so it is, that as it hath in it good show and ground of reason; so it hath also many errors and inconveniences depending upon it, which doth blemish much of the better perfection, as first the carriage of the hand, which governeth the whole mouth by the least and worst part of the mouth, which is the weeks only; doth pull the best settled rain that is, quite out of order, and brings a horse to the putting out of his nose, a gaping with his mouth, and such a general incertainty over all his body, that albe you bring him to the end you desire, which is to amble, yet he doth by the manner thereof loose so much beauty, grace, and other more careful perfections, that a horseman will even be ashamed of his labour. Again, if the horse beyong and unwayed that is thus taught, the very toiling him upon the deep lands will bring him to a weakness in his limbs, to a faintness and despair in labour: and in stead of those encouragements which his youth and ignorance should have given him such distaste and grief, that he will be worse for travel whilst he lives after, yet I know this manner of teaching horses to amble, is practised by divers men of the best fame in this art, with whom I have for mine understanding many times argued, & though they have been out of their long practice only addicted to this rule and none other, yet could they not deny the inconveniences, but have been fain to stop my discourse with this Adage. That there is no profit without his discommodity: & he that will have his horse amble, must endure the inconveniences which follow ambling; but have esteemed their answers like their Arts, that is, to be mere deceits, Fallaces, and sophistications. CHAP. 4 Of making a horse amble from his gallop, or by over riding. FRom this former practice of the plowde lands (according to my imagination) I think hath sprung up this second practice of making a horse amble from his gallop, which is derived from self like violence, though in another fashion: for the first doth but bring him to his amble by toiling him in his slowest pace, and this by amazing him in his swiftest; and it is to be done after this manner. You shall first ride your Horse into some piece of ascending ground, I do not mean against the side of any steep hill, or upon anic hanging ground, but upon such ground as is only rising apparently to the eye, and no more; then putting your horse into a leisurely gallop for some twenty or thirty yards, you shall upon the sudden by giving him a hard chock or two in the weeks of his mouth, not make him stop, but at first as it were in a confused manner, make him leave off his gallop & shuffle his legs disorderly together (which naturally every horse will do) and so by giving him many of those chockes and break off, you shall in the end feel him strike a stroke or two of a perfect amble, which as soon as you feel, you shall presently hold your bridle hand strait, and putting him forward with the help of your legs, or with your spurs, keep him unto that pace as long as you can, spurring him somewhat hard upon that side of which you shall feel him to tread false, which is ever that which shakes your body moste: but when you feel him in despite both of your helps and of your corrections wilfully give over his amble, and that he will continue it no longer, you shall then put him into his gallop again, and as you did before, so you shall again the second time chock him in the mouth and so bring him to his amble again. This you shall do so oft till your Horse come to the perfect understanding of your mind, and that he knows all his corrections, labours and torments only proceed from the handling of his feet, contrary to your disposition, which knowledge you shall easily bring him unto, by making a difference betwixt his well doing & evil doing, with cherishings & punishings, neither animating him when he errs, nor correcting him when he doth as you would desire, which observation will so fortify him, that through delight and fear, he will wholly frame his actions and motions according to your will and art in riding. 〈◊〉 Now when you have thus by hourly and incessant labour, brought your horse by little and little, as from one step to two, from two to three, and from three to four, to such perfitness, that he will amble some twelve or twenty score yards upon plain ground well and truly, than you shall only by exercise and riding him every day more and more, and putting him every day to grounds of more incertainty and roughness; In the end make him so cunning and perfect, that no ground or high way will be too difficult for him to tread upon: and truly thus much I must say for Ambling, that as it is a motion of all motions most easy to be taught unto any horse, so it is the hardest of all other lessons to be confirmed and made of continuance in any horse whatsoever, except there be a certain natural inelynation in the horse settled & addicted to the pace of ambling, before the beginning of your labour, whence it comes that many of our horse amblers will make any horse amble for a small road, or the length of a fair or market, yet when he comes to incertain ways, or long journeys, than he is as far to seek in his easy pace as if he had never been taught the motion; wherefore mine advice is, when you have brought your horse thus from his gallop, to strike an amble (which even nature itself drives him into) that you be not too hasty either to put him unto foul, ruttie, or rough ways, or by journeying to over toil him in that he hath but newly learned, till by former exercise and increasing by degrees, you find him both apt & able to perform as much as you shall put unto him. This method of teaching I have seen pursued by sundry of this profession: and have heard many arguments in defence of it, against other manner of instructions, but for mine own part I think of it as I think of the former, that the toil is unorderlye, the understanding thereof thrust into a horse barbarously, and the good effects, which it should work, are both in certain and void of continuance; it doth, as the method before described doth; that is mar the horses mouth, disorder his rain, & takes from him all the beauties of a good countenance, it puts a Horse in great danger of overreaching and striking one foot upon another, from whence many times comes Quitter-bones, Crowne-scabbes and such like sorances, which are ever to be avoided, where there is a better way to compass that which we labour for. To this manner of teaching horses to amble I may very well join another, which many years agone I saw practised by a Scottish Rider, whom then (in my first beginning) I had heard great commendations of for this art; so that when I found him curious to show me hisskil, I have watched and dogged him in private to take notes from his riding; and I found his order to make a horse amble was first to ride his horse into some deep new plowde field, and there to gallop him up and down till the horse for want of wind was not able to gallop any longer, then eo give him breath, and so to gallop him again till he found the horse grow faint, & then to bring him from the lands, and in some even fair way, to put him to amble, by the straightening his bridle hand, & holding up his head aloft, so that the horse might not well see the way before him. The weariness he had formerly brought the horse unto, upon the deep lands, would make him unwilling to troth, the straytning of his head, & putting ●im forward with his spurs, would thrust him faster forward than footpace, and the want of seeing his way, would make him take up his forefeet in such a fashion, that he could well undertake no pace but ambling: this I have seen him do twice and sometimes thrice a day, so that what horse soever he began with all in the morning, he would ever make amble before night, by which means he got much fame and wealth: but for mine own part, although I know there is nothing brings a horse sooner to amble then weariness and over-riding, yet that it should be my practice to instruct horses by such a rule, I cannot but infinitely dislike it, and it needs no further discommendations than the bare title it most properly bears, which is to make horses amble by over riding them; and surely I think it was first found out, either by some choleric person, who seeking to make his horse amble by one of the former rules, and finding him not at the first dash to answer his expextation; hath presently out of his fury fallen to spur and gallop him whilst he could stand, and so almost tiring his horse, hath upon his weariness, (as all horses are) found him a great deal more willing to amble; or else it hath proceeded from such a one who riding some long journey upon a trotting horse in hard ways, hath when the horse was weary (as it is the property of all horses) found him of his own accord alter his pace, and fall to plain ambling; but whosoever or how soever it is or was found out, for mine own part. I cannot either commend, or give allowance unto it, only for your satisfaction deliver the manner thereof, that when your own desire shall take from you the belief of reason, you may then out of your own experience, either allow or disallow what herein hath been dilated unto you. And thus much for this kind of ambling which proceeds from the worst violence. CHAP. 5. How to make horses to amble by the use of weights. NOt far different in nature, though much more temperate in quality is this manner of teaching horses to amble by the use of poise or weight, for albe it do not weary a horse in bodily labour, yet it wekens & makes feeble his members by suffering an extremity greater than his strength is able to contend with, for if his burden be kept within the ability of his power, than it works no new thing, but keeps him still in the state of his first creation; whence it comes to pass that if you will make a horse amble by weight, either that weight must exceed in massines, or troublesomeness, or else no more prevail, then if such weight were not used at all. This manner of ambling is very generally used in this kingdom by sundry professors, yet not all of one fashion; but according to the humours or inventions, so the manner thereof doth alter: for I have seen one horseman bring his horse to amble by weight after this manner: he hath first caused to be cast in the fashion and compass of a pastern, great rolls or wreaths of lead of the weight of some six pound a piece, and lapping them in lists and woollen cloth hath made them fast about the neathermoste joints or pasterns of the horses hinderlegges, and then riding the horse abroad, have with the help of their bridle hand, as is explaind in former Chapters, tried to alter the Horse's pace, but if they have found that either the horses courage, or the smoothness of the way, hath made the horse either not feel, or not respect the weights, but to hold the trotting pace still, than they have with those weights ridden the horse into some deep new plowde field, and there with the weights about his heels to labour him upon a fwift foot pace, till the horse out of his weariness hath altered or at least shuffled his feet so confusedly together, that he hath gone betwixt an amble & a trot, than the rider hath brought him into the plain way, where the horse hath had liberty to cast forth his legs, & there with his hand hath put him into his amble, which presently I have seen the horse undertake, for what through the weights about his legs, and the weariness he was formerly put unto, it is impossible the horse should trot, and so by lirtle and little the rider encouraging him, and the horse feeling the ease of the amble to be much more than his trot, I have seen many horses made very perfect and ready in the pace. Other Horsemen I have seen, which to make their horses amble, have laid graite weights upon the hinder parts of the horse above his fillets just behind the Saddle, as namely the weight of ten or twelve stone, and so to ride him first in deep high way, or ploughed ground, & if he do troth away with any lightness then to augment the weight, till he begin to solter or strike his feet false, and then to bring him into some plain high way, & there to put him into his amble with the help of his hand and legs, checking him in the mouth with the bridle, and spurring him upon that side of which you feel his hinder foot tread the oftest false, the weight which is used for this purpose is most commonly earth, lead, or some such heavy stuff: then needeth little or no art to be used in this manner of teaching, more than to have this discretion, that though the weigh be more than the horse with convenience can bear, yet not to be so much as to bruise his limbs, albe such mischiefs oft spring from such teaching; you must also when you teach a horse thus to amble by weight, let him have very little rest, but be riding and exercising him every hour or once in two hours at the furthest, and as he becomes perfect in his pace, so by degrees to make his burden less and less, till he will amble very readily without any more weight than the rider only, & then by little & little to train him upon rough & uncertain ways as sometimes up the hill, sometimes down sometimes o'erthwart lands, or over lays or dry furrows, & when he knows how to take his way uponsuch unevenness; than you may presume his cunning is sufficient. This manner of teaching a horse to amble, is both easy & certain, yet in my judgement not of such value as is worthy of any painful imitation, because the dangers and inconveniences which do attend it are more than may be tolerated in so small a benefit, for first besides the manner of the toil which is upon deep lands, and so hath all the mischiefs which are formerly spoken of, the weights also which are to be borne upon the hinder pasterns, do not only beat and bruise the Sinews in those parts, but also upon the least slip or false treading do hazard those strains which are seldom or never cured. Then for the weights which are to be laid upon his back, which must so far exceed as to alter a horse's pace, a man shall hardly carry that temper either of judgement or hand, as to poise him o a due proportion, & then if he exceed he either breaks the back, sways the back, or brings him to the consumption of the back, and if he make it but a little to iight, he either wastes his labour to small purpose, or else brings to the pace a hacling & uncomeliness, how ever, this is certain, that a horse which is trained to his amble by weight, hath ever for the most part danger or disorder brought to his hinder parts; beside, the horse that is thus to be trained, must be of such a cold and frozen nature, that he will neither start at boggard, stir with the spur, or be troubled with any passion; for if he shall, there is not then the least affright which will not put him to the hazard of much mischief: and if a horse shall but get the smallest crick in his back, it is a grief that will trouble the best farrier to know how to amend it, and for the most part they are mischiefs which I have seen seldom repaired. Now for the taking away the tenderness and constancy of his mouth, the spoiling of his rain, & the beauty of his countenance, they be so general both in this, & almost all other courses, which are to make horses amble; that I may very well spare speaking of their loss, because it is most commonly the first work amblers go about to deprive their horses of those good virtues. Now lastly the labour which a man must take in this manner of teaching is so infinite and incessant, that it both robs a man of the delight he should enjoy after his wish is effected, and also deprives him of much hope, by making him despair in so endless a labour; to which I may add this mischief, the worst of all other, that I have not known more good horses spoiled and made utterly inseruisable by any wilful course whatsoever, them by this prescript cruel method of making horses amble by weight, and the former intolerable labours. CHAP. 6. Of making a horse to amble out of the hand. SOme horsemen who have been of more temperate & mild dispositions, having seen horses brought to amble by the rules before described, and noting the tyranny of the man in tormenting a beast that is created for his use, service and familiarity, worse than a ravenous monster or an empoisoning serpent, have out of their milder cogitations found out another way to make them amble, which though it be somewhat painful to the man, yet it is nothing so cruel to the beast, and that is first to make them amble out of hand, by which I mean that a horse shall be brought to amble perfectly of himself, without either carrying the man upon his back, or having any especial use of the man's hand in his ambling, it might more properly be called ambling in the hand, because the horse is brought thereunto, as the man leads him in his hand, & not rides him, after this manner: first you shall take your horse in a bridle, & lead him alongst some strait wall, and joining the horses side thereunto, you shall place your own body close to the shoulder of the horse which is from the wall, that you may whether he will or no hold him up in a straight furrow: then with your rod turned backward in your hand, so that it may reach to his buttock, you shall iert and force him forward, and in the very instant that the horse presses forward, you shall with that hand which is upon the bridle, give him a good chock in the mouth that you may make him stammer, and shuffle his legs confusedly together, and then presently ease your hand again, so that he may neither stand still, nor go backward, but still keep his way forward, and at every two steps to give him a chock or two in the mouth to make him shuffle his legs, till you perceive him to take up two legs of a side together, and then presently to cherish him, and then to exercise him again after the same manner, till you have made him to strike two or three strokes of his amble together, and then you shall cherish him more than before. And thus you shall continue to do, till you have given him a perfit understanding of your mind, and that he may with assurance perceive wherefore he is corrected, and wherefore he is cherished. You shall during this manner of teaching, by no means suffer him to troth: but if perforce he will, and that at first you cannot keep him from trotting (as it is very hard in the beginning,) you shall then every stroke that he trotteth, turn your body about, and with your rod give him a good iert or two over the hinder hoùghes, and under the belly, because it is ever his hinder parts which tread false in ambling, and then fall to your business again: after this manner you shall be every hour in the day doing somewhat unto him, never suffering the horse to rest an hour at peace, till you have brought him to the true handling, or the taking up of his legs, increasing his labour daily in such sort, that in the end you bring him to amble the whole length of the wall, or an ordinary road, which is for the most part 5. or six score yards: when you have made him perfit thus far forth; you shall not then ease any part of his toil, but continue him still in his hourly labour, till you have made him so perfit, and given him such delight therein, that he will amble in your hand, without the use or need of any correction whatsoever. This being done, you shall then take the bridle forth of his mouth, & put upon his head a plain chain, or the gentlest Cavezan, and make him only with either of them amble as perfitly as he did before with his snaffle, observing that as he grows perfecter in skill, so you ease his restraint, and bear the Chain or Cavezan as gently as may be, till he will amble of himself, without any touch of the Chain or Cavezan: than you shall make him amble only by the use of his collar, without any other restraint. And lastly that he will of himself (you running by him with loose reins) amble as perfitly as when he hath the greatest restraint whatsoever. Now you are to remember, that when you first teach your horse to amble thus by you, if he be of a slow and dull nature, so that when you carry your hand anything strait he will not press forward, but either stand still, or go back; or if he do go, it shall be but so slowly that it shall not exceed a foot pace. In this case you shall have a footman to come behind him with a rod in his hand, who as you restrain him, shall force him to go forward, either as fast or as slowly as you will, till you have brought him to the knowledge and true use of the pace, and then you shall use his help no longer; for whatsoever you are to do after this is effected, only use and practice will bring your horse unto, without either scruple or amazement; for there is nothing after a horse knows how to take his legs upright, which brings a horse either to perfitness, or imperfitenesse, but only practise. I have seen some horsemen (and myself also hath done the like) which have taught this kind of ambling in a close house or barn, but it is nothing so good, nor so void of difficulty, as is the use of the strait wall, if a man can have one conveniently: but where the strait wall is not to be had there I prefer the close house, because there a man may lead his Horse either close by the walls, or otherwise if he lead him in the midst of the house, yet the horse cannot fly much out of order, because the compass of the walls will not give him any great liberty. After you have made your horse thus perfit that he will amble by you in your hand (which amblers call ambling out of hand) so that when either you lead your horse to the water, or to sport, or about any other exercise, he will use no other pace but ambling: then (and not before) you shall saddle him, and mounting his back by a temperate carriage of your hand, and by laying your legs close to his sides, you shall thrust him forward, and make him amble under you, which if at first (as I have often found, and it was the first reason, which made me disallow this practice) you perceive that he falls into his trot, and refuseth to amble, as if he had never been acquainted with the pace; which indeed is so natural to many horses, that you shall behold many (and myself have had the riding of some) which ambling even from their first foaling, have when they have come to the Saddle, and carriage of the man, presently fallen to troth, which they were never seen to do in all their lives before, by which I have gathered, that a horse doth take an extraordinary pride & delight in the service and carriage of the man. If then your horse thus refuse to amble under you, immediately you shall twitch up his head, and giving him a good chock or two in the mouth, and striking him with your spurs, one after the other, you shall thrust him into his amble, which your correction & amazement joined with his former knowledge, will soon bring him unto, & then after 〈◊〉 strikes a stroke or two, and is cherished, coming to understand your meaning, he will then fall more readily to his amble, and with so much more comeliness and truth as he was formerly experienced in the pace before. Now that this manner of teaching horses to amble, is either so full of art, ease, or comeliness, that it deserveth either your labour, or a general imitation, I am not of the opinion because as the former methods, so this is accompanied with many foul and gross inconveniences, such as a horse by no means should be acquainted withal; for besides the loss of time in the man, bestowing a long labour to little purpose, and spending his hours to bring his horse to an unprofitable exercise, which is to amble without the man; the very manner of bringing a horse unto it, which is by chocking him in the mouth, and distempering his head, is most wild and insufferable; for if the horse be of spirit and courage, by such corrections, the horse in stead of ambling falls to rearing, plunging, and other restive qualities, one of which will ask more labour to amend, then to make twenty horses amble. And indeed to say truth, I have not seen a horse of any good metal that hath been brought to amble by this manner of teaching, or if they have, yet it is impossible they should continue long therein; for even their own courages will transport them, & make them weary of such an in temperate motion, and on the contrary part, if the horse be dull and heavy, his sloth and unnimblenesse will be so contrary and rebellious against this practice, that the Rider had need of a more than an ordinary patience to endure the slackness and untowardness of his incapable spirit, which will neither understand, or it he do understand, yet will not execute any thing any longer than correction & torment lies upon him: Thus you see that neither the hot fiery horse, nor the dull slow jade is fit for this kind of instruction; insomuch that if you have no other method to teach a horse to amble by, but only this, you shall either run into many inconveniences, or the loss of your time, or else only deal with such horses which are of such well mixed qualities and dispositions, that they are neither too fiery to rebel or contend against instruction, or not so dull, as not to conceive what you would teach; or when they do conceive out of sloth and idleness to leave your will unperformed: it is the mediocrity with which you must deal, which being seldomest found, you may live an age ere you meet with a horse of that temper. And thus much for the making of horses to amble out of the hand. CHAP. 7. Of making horses to amble with the help of the hand only. Such horsemen as had practised this former way to make a horse to amble out of hand, that is before a man come to ride him: when they found that the horse coming into hand, that is, when he came to be ridden, was in their first judgements, as imperfect in ambling, as if he had been never taught to amble before, and that they have been as it were drawn by a new method to bring their horses to amble, they have presently by looking into the loss of the former time, and to the benefit of their present exercise, condemned the former manner of teaching, & only held tolerable no other way to teach a horse to amble, but the use of the hand and leg only arguing with other riders (which did not the like) of the faults which were in their practice; but not beholding any in this which now was last brought to their memories. And this manner of teaching horses to amble seemed at the first so strange and artificial, that every rider of ambling horses, was thought unworthy which taught by any other form; and every horsmaister thought his horse not well taught, which came not from his hand, who was reported to teach by the help of the hand only, the manner whereof is, After you have put into your horse's mouth a rough twound snaffle, such a one as through the cruelty thereof will command from the horse an extraordinary obedience (for in this manner of teaching, you must have your horse exceedingly tender mouthed) you shall then take his back, and holding your bridle rain in both your hands, a handful one from the other, you shall walk your horse gently into some plain high way, and there first thrust your horse into the swiftest of his foot pace, and if he offer to trot, you shall lift up your hands, and give him a good chock in the mouth with your bridle, and then put him forward again, holding him at the swiftest of his footpace, and so ride him up and down for an hour or more, striving still to make him go faster and faster; and every time that he doth but offer to trot, to give him a good chock in the mouth, and a stroke with your spur on the side which he treadeth false with his hinder foot, & by this means correcting him both in the mouth, & upon the sides when he trots, and yet urging him continually to go faster in his footpace than he is able, you shall in the end bring him to strike forth an amble, which when he doth, you shall then carry your hands constantly, and without spurring him, show that you are contented with that motion, observing that you keep him to such a temperate pace, that you neither by making him go to fast, urge him to trot, nor by causing him to go too softly, keep him within the ease of his footpace; but let the first be made troublesome to him by correction, the other painful by too speedy passage. This course will not only bring him of himself to find out the true stroke of an amble, but also by keeping him in his foot pace, make him to stride and stretch out his legs, that his pace will be both more comely, more certain, and more easy. After you have thus by the help of your hand, held straight upon the bridle, and the correction of your leg and spur brought your horse from his footpace to an amble, you shall then continue him, and augment his pace thereupon in swiftness, every hour a little more and more, till you have made his amble swifter than ever was his trot, and that he will strike the same, both up the hill, down the hill, over cross paths, rough ways, miry new ploughed lands, or wheresover else you shall have occasion to travel, which only continual exercise must bring him unto, and his own nimble cunning, observing by no means to put him too soon to travel, or to amble him long together at any time, till he be so perfect and skilful in the pace, that he will take it both cunningly and freely of himself, albe the bridle rain lie in his neck, and you have no use of the same: you shall also observe, that if this round twound snaffle which I did first prescribe unto you, be either so rough, that it cut, or gall the horses mouth, or if the horse be so exceeding tender of mouth, that he is not able to endure the sense of such sharpness, you shall then instead thereof use only a smooth snaffle made full, round, and of an extraordinary bigness, about which if you fold certain wreaths of some fine linen cloth, to make it as full and big in the horse's mouth as may be, it is much the better and more sweeter and the horse will take his pace with more delight and cheerfulness; but if you feel that albe he take the stroke & manner of his pace truly enough, yet with the raising up of his hinder feet somewhat to high (which motion he taketh from his trot) you feel he doth not go away easy enough, in such a case it shall be meet for you to make his hinder shoes of an extraordinary weight, and thickness, each shoe weighing at least five pounds, which will so tire and load his feet that he will be glad to keep them down and even sweep them close by the earth as he goes. Now although this manner of teaching horses to amble be both generally commended & most of all otherways practised in this nation; yet for mine own part if it be so good as men do imagine, I must confess myself to be a great heretic in my belief therein, for I can neither allow it to be contained within any rule of good horsemanshippe, nor that it is worthy any man's labour to endeavour to learn it, both because it is accompanied with as many errors as any other of those methods which go before it; and also because there be a great deal more artificial ways to bring a horse to this pace without the faults that this holdeth, which faults are these: the wasting of more profitable time vainly, the maring of the horses rain, the distempering of his mouth, & spoil of his countenance, which these checkings & sudden chockes do, besides the breeding of a general inconstancy over all the horses body, which is the grossest fault which can at any time be found in horsemanship. So that to conclude, howsoever men may be conceited, & speak in the commendations of making horses amble thus with the hand only, I for my part cannot be induced either to give it any toleration in mine opinion: or to preserve it for any other practice then only for the knowledge of general experience. Thus you see I have hitherto showed you sundry ways how to make horses amble, as namely by the fallow field, by weight; out of hand, with the hand, and some others; yet to every one I have showed you such errors and inconveniences adjoined, that in my conclusion I made them both unprofitable, and not to be practised, whereby I must confess I have hitherto left you in amazement (that since ambling is so necessary, and of such general use, that we cannot travel or journey without it) what course is to be taken to bring a horse unto it without either the grossness of these former errors, the misexpence of time, or the loss of a horses beauty and good countenance, which labyrinth to bring you out of, and that you may see what I have formerly written, is but to enable your memories with every several knowledge and experiment which hath at any time been practised for bringing this work to pass: And that the knowing of errors may enable you the better to shun errors, I will now proceed to those ways in teaching which are complete in art and worthy imitation, without any error but such as shall proceed from the fault of the rider. CHAP. 8. Of making horses to amble by the help of shoes only. AFter these former ways of teaching horses to amble came to be put in practice by men of art & skill in horsemanship, and that they came to find the errors and inconveniences which do necessarily belong to such insubstantial instructions, presently they out of their better judgements & inventions began to find out means to make horses amble without either marring their mouths, unsettling their heads or breeding any other uncomely disorders, conceiving thus: that since the making of horses amble, was but only to bring them to an altetation of the natural motions of their legs, why should not those motions be as well taught without disorder to the head and rain, as either the Coruett, the Cepriole, and other motions daily used amongst horses of pleasure and service, and hence it came that doubtless some man both of good skill and judgement found out this way, which I will hear deliver unto you, and which I have lately to good effect practised and found both agreeable to art, reason and all the strictest rules in horsemanshippe; which is to make a horse amble with the help of two hinder shoes only, and this is the manner thereof; First you shall cause a Smith to take measure of your horses hinder feet, and to make him two shoes of an extraordinary thickness, and from the toe or forepart of the shoe, to beat out as it were a thin plate scarce half so thick as the shoe, and being at the toe of the shoe not above too inches or a little better broad, but at the uttermost end of the plate better than four inches broad: this plate must from the very toe of the shoe forward, rise a little shoaring from the ground, so that the horse standing full upon his feet, the outmost end of the plates must be as high from the ground as the horses fetlock, and they must have their ends turned upward back again towards the horses hinder legs, so that as the horse puts forward his hinder feet, if he chance to hit upon his forelegs, yet the plaits being so turned forward, may have no force to hurt or bruise the horse but only to give him a flat blow and no more; the fashion and proportion of the shoes are contained in these figures. To appoint or set down any certain length for these four plates I cannot; for they must keep their size according to the proportion of the horse, or largeness of the stride he takes, for if he be a horse that takes a long step and strikes his hinder foot forth even close to the setting down of his fore foot, than these plates may be the shorter, but if he be a horse that takes small steps, and doth as it were set his hinder feet down where he takes them up, then must the plates be made so much the longer, yet because I will not leave you in amazement, you shall understand that the best observation you can take for making these fore plates of a true length, is to let your horse walk in some sandy way, where you may see the print of his feet, and then look how much you see his hinder foot to tread short of his forefoot to make your fore plates about some 3. inches longer & no more, as thus for example, if your horse bring his hinder foot to his forefoote, by three inches, than you shall make your plates 6. inches, & so according to this rule, you shall either increase or diminish; of the two choices, rather making it with the shortest than the longest for if they be too long, them they give the sorer blow, and may so bruise the horse upon the sinews, of the fore legs, as may bring him to a lameness, & thereby not only procure to yourself great loss, but to the Art greater discredit, which in truth is utterly without blemish but only for your own indeiscretion. When you have shod your horse with shoes of this fashion, you shall first with all gentleness lead him as mildly as you can up & down, either in some even high way, or upon some plain green walk that your horse may first feel the shoes, & that when he grows amazed at the blows which they will give him upon the fore legs, which at first will be sharp and painful, yet you may stay him and with cherishings fortify him and encourage him till he come to an understanding how his torment comes, which only proceeds from this reason, that if when he moves his right hinderfoot, he do not also in the same instant remove his right fore foot, than those plates must perforce beat him upon the fore leg, & make him whether he will or no remove it, which the horse no sooner will perceive; (and finding the motion which keeps him most from torment) but he will presently follow it, and by no means afterward in a whole day hazard the knock of one blow; I would have you thus for at least the space of two or thre● days to do nothing but lead your horse up and d● in your hand, making him one while go softly, 〈◊〉 while swiftly, till he be so perfect that he will am● 〈◊〉 hand, if it were an hour together, without 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 self one rap with his shoes, a● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 first two or three days you shall apply him in this hard lesson, at least half a dozen times a day, and when you have made him so perfect that he will amble by you both readily and cunningly; than you shall mount his back & ride him either in some fair green close, or some even road way an hour together, in all which time of riding you shall neither chock him in the mouth, nor distemper his rain, but carry an even and sweet hand upon him, giving him encouragement in all his doings for there is no fault which can any way belong to his pace, which the shoe will not sufficiently correct & put in order. When you have ridden him thus an hour in the morning, you shall then ride him as much in the after noon, and as much also in the evening, observing this order for at least four or five days together, which done, you shall then take his back in the morning, and ride him without either rest or ceasing till it be noon, and then bring him home, and if he have gone orderly & kept his pace in such good and perfect sort as you would wish without either stumbling or willingness to give over his pace, you shall cause the Smith to take off those shoes, & to set upon him a good pair of ordinary shoes, only in the weight and massiness, they would be extraordinary, for they must way at least as much as two pair of any common shoes. With these plain shoes without any plates, you shall ride your horse at least a fortnight together, and then remove them and set such shoes as are both fit for the horses use and Travel, without either extraordinary weight or nay other devise whatsoever. Now for any errors or inconveniences, which this manner ofteaching a horse to amble shall bring unto him, there is in truth none at all; for the rider having free liberty to use his hand, body and legs at his own pleasure, if then he commit any evil, it is his own fault, and not the necessity of the instruction, for there is not any man, if he can but sit upon a horses back, which by this method shall not make a horse amble in as good manner (touching the motion of his legs) as the best arts master whatsoever: the reason whereof is, that the very shoes do of themselves correct all those vices, which in other practices is the duty of the horseman to do, as thus for example; if the horse do not strike out his feet as he ought to do, but offer to tread short, the very knocks which the plates will give him upon the legs, will put him to such pain, that he will for very fear, & to avoid the torment, stretch his feet forth as far as he is able: they will also make him raise his forefeet nimbly from the ground, and through their weight and troublesomeness make him keep his hinder feet close and near to the earth, they will make him that he shall not straddle or go to wide behind, neither will they suffer him to go so straight that he shall be in hazard of interfering: to conclude, they do as much in this work as any man can wish, & is if a manner of teaching, which if my wit can judge or mine experience were worthy to persuade, I would have practised before any other way whatsoever, except it be the tramel, which I prefer and esteem an equal both in virtue and goodness. CHAP. 9 Of teaching horses to amble by the use of the tramel. THere will be multitudes which will in their arguments oppose themselves, as violently against me as may be, both to condemn this which I commend, and also to dissuade men from the use of this practice, which I most allow; I do not doubt, for I have not in Table or stable discourses heard any thing more enuayd against then the teaching of horses to amble by the help or use of the Tramell, some saying it lames and strains horses: some that it makes a horse not take up his feet right; some that the pace so gi●ē is not easy: with a world of such like discommendations; but for mine own pa●t. I am by experience and practise so undoubtedly resolved and know so assuredly the contrary, that I can neither credit their surmises, or love the experiment one jot worse, no though they should be esteemed most approved horsemen, from whose mouths should come the discommendations, for I know what error soever hapens to a horse by this manner of teaching, proceeds either from the indiscretion or ignorance of the rider, and from no part of work, if it be truly handled; wherefore to those that will credit truth, and observe those rules which are most agreeable with art and reason, I frame my discourse, and to others who scorn all guides, but the strength of their own opinions, I wish them save the labour of reading this book, which in that case will give them no satisfaction: and now to my purpose, if at any time you will make your horse amble by the help of the tramel, you shall thus do; take any horse of what age, condition, or quality soever he be, and first place him so with your hand, that he may stand just and even upon all his four legs without putting any of them forth, or standing straddling, or crooked, which done, you shall put upon his right foreleg (which we commonly call the far leg) a broad piece of leather, lined soft with cotton, & having at the one a small buckle, in breadth & shape made like a pastern, only it must not be so thick & stubborn, but smooth & gentle, ye●very strong. This piece of leather you shall buckle about your horses far fore-leg, some 4, or 5. fingers or more above his knee, & you shall buckle it so gently, that by no means it pinch him, or with the straightness stop the passage of the blood in his veins; also when it is buckled on, you must so place it that a strong tournel of iron being cunningly fastened within the leather, may stand just behind his leg, looking towards his hinder leg: this done, you shall take another piece of leather, made in every proportion like to this former, & buckle it about your horses far hinder leg, some four inches or there about above his cambrel, and the iron tournell thereof shall stand before his leg, looking to his fore-legge: than you shall take a strong cord made all of hair, and fasten it to both the tournels, making it by no means either longer or shorter, but of the just and due length which is betwixt his legs; and then looking upon your work, you shall see that you have so linked his hinder leg to his foreleg, that the horse cannot possibly put forth his fore-legge to go, but he must draw his hinder leg after him. When you have done thus to his far fore-legge, and his far hinder leg, than you shall take other two pieces of leather like the former, and another cord of hair of the same length, like the former also, and in every respect as you have linked together his right legs, so you shall also link together his left legs, which we call his narre legs: than you shall take a piece of garthwebbe, and making it fast to the midst of the hair rope on the far side, you shall then bring the garthweb over the horses back, and make it fast to the hair rope o● the narre side, this garthweb is but only to hold up the cords from falling to the ground, or troubling the horse as he goeth. Now forasmuch as I cannot in words so perfectly describe this manner of tramelling as may give satisfaction to those which have never seen it before, I thought good by a more lively representation of these figure thereof to better your knowledge in the doing it; wherefore when your horse is trammelled above the knee, he will carry the form of this figure. Many I know will wonder at this manner of tramelling a horse above the knees & houghs, because it hath been seldom or never usep by any man; & for mine own part I have never seen it used by others, but have been induced thereunto out of mine own reason and practise, because the faults & dangers which I can any way behold to belong to tramelling, is if a horse be at first tramelled underneath the knees and houghs, and be of a hot and fiery spirit, if then the Rider indiscreetely shall compel his Horse to go any thing hastily, or that the horse out of his own fury will not stay the leisure of the man, in such a case the horse may happen at the first setting forth of his feet to overthrow himself, and then being down, what with his striving, and the strength of his trammels, he may get that mischief which will never forsake him whilst he lives after. This to prevent I would have you in any case at the first to tramel your horse above knee, as is before showed you▪ for in so doing you shall give his legs that liberty, help and nimbleness, that neither your own rashness, nor the horse's madness, shall bring him within the compass of any evil, as good proof in your trial shall witness. When your horse is thus tramelled above knee, which in any case I would have you do, either in some empty barn, or in some fair green close, you shall then as gently as you can, lead him forward, & by little and little make gi●e go faster and faster, till you see him strike into a fair amble, which he cannot choose but do, because his feet are so link● and tied together that he cannot remove any of his forelegges, but the hindmost leg of the same side must follow it, you shall practise him thus, to lead and amble in your hand three or four times every day for the space of two or three days; then if it be in the summer time, I would have you turn him into some close, or convenient piece of ground (thus tramelled as is before said) and there let him run at grass for the space of a fortnight, or three weeks, not failing, but every day twice a day to take him up, & ride him either up & down the close, or in some other convenient piece of ground, for the space of an hour together; in which time you shall see he will get the perfit use of his legs, & the true stroke of his amble, without stumbling or other manner of amazement. Now you shall understand that this manner of tramelling horses above knee bringeth one other commodity, and that is it maketh a horse to stretch and put forth his legs in large strides, bringing both ease and comeliness to his pace, and not to twitch them up suddenly, and set them down again as if he did dance, or stood stamping all in one place; which fault only proceeds from tramelling a horse somewhat too early under the knee, and making his trammels for want of true measure a little of the straightest. After you have thus practised your horse in the trammels above the knee, and made him both through riding and running in them at grass day and night, so perfect that he will take his pace forward, both cunningly and speedily, you shall then take them off, and put the leathers which are upon the forelegs above the knees under his knees about the small of the legs, some handful or thereabouts above his neither pasterns: and the leathers which were above the houghs of his hinder legs, you shall put underneath his cambrels about an handful above his fetlocks, than you shall take the hair cords, and when the horse stands even and just upon all his four legs, each leg standing opposite and just one against another, you shall fasten them of their true length (which is from leg to leg of a side) unto the iron tournels, as was beforesaid, so that when your horse is thus tramelled underneath the knee, he may carry the proportion of this figure following. When your horse is in this sort tramelled underneath the knees & houghs, you shall then in the self same manner as you did before when you trameld him above the knee, first with all patience and gentleness lead him up and down in your hand, making him go in his trammels, which will all at the first be very troublesome unto him & a great deal more unnimble, by as much as they are of more force and correction than the former, as commanding the weaker and more pliant members; but how unnimbly or untowardly soever he goes at the first with these trammels, it matters not, so that you be but patient, & endure every disorder in him without trouble or rigour; for even the very pain which he shall feel when he gives any disorderly twitch or strain will so molest and torment him, that he will amend every thing of himself (if you will give him time) without any other molestation, and I persuade myself (for I have ever found it so) that the former cunning which he learned in his first trammels, will have brought him to such a perfitness, that when these are put on, he will find no more trouble, or difficulty then if he wore not any trammels at all; but howsoever, after you have thus made him perfect in these kind of Trammels, that he will lead gently in your hand up and down, either as slowly or as swiftly as you please, you may then set a saddle upon his back, and put the garthweb which holds up his Trammels behind the hinder crouch of his Saddle, just overthwart his fillets, and then you shall mount his back, and tie him in some fair even road half an hour together, and then bring him home to the stable and give him some provender, then about two hours after, you shall take him forth again, and ride him as you did before, and thus you shall ride him three or four times a day, for three or four days together; and if it be in the Summer time; if then you let him run at grass night and day with his Trammels on his legs, and ride him as is before described, it will be much better for his pace; observing that during all the time of your riding in this first beginning you put not any thing into his mouth, but a plain, smooth, and full snaffle, neither shall you by any means give the horse any chockes in his mouth, or gag up his head, but bear your hand in an orderly and constant manet like a horseman, being assured that what fault soever the horse shall commit in his pace or the motion of his legs, the trammels will correct sufficiently without any other assistance. After you have thus for a fortnight ridden your horse in these Trammels upon plain and smooth grounds, you shall then for the next fortnight exercise him in his Trammels upon rough rough ways, as where he may tread sometimes in ruts, or upon broken swarthes', you shall also now and then ride him over plowde lands, and sometimes up hills, and sometimes down hills, till you have brought him to such nimbleness and courage in his pace, that no ground he can tread upon shall come amiss unto him, you shall also this fortnight bring his pace to all the swiftness you can; by thrusting him forward with all the life & courage you can devise, and sometimes by giving him a good iert or two with your rod, or by giving him now and then a good stroke or two with your spurs. Thus when you have brought him to the perfectness of his pace, so that he will do it both cunningly, readily, swiftly, and without any stammering or straining of his trammels, so that you might very well adventure to ride him without any trammels at all, you shall then for a week before you take off your trammels (if he be a horse which you make for any great man's saddle) put into his mouth such a bit as shall be fit and answerable to the temper, sweetness or hardness of his mouth, & with it you shall ride him in his trammels all that week three or four times a day first upon plain, smooth grounds, then by little & little, upon rougher & rougher, till you have exercisd him upon every kind of ground whatsoever, and that he will take his pace both as readily & as speedily with the bit, as before he did with his snaffle, neither offering to strike falser, shorter, nor with faster motions than he did with his snaffle; when you have brought your horse to this perfection, so that neither exchange of way, nor the exchange of bits or Snaffles moves him to any disorder; than you may boldly take away his trammels altogether: and only make good thick thumb-roapes of hay, you shall fold & wreathe them as you make a rush ring about the neither pasterns of all your horses four legs, which is between the coronet of the hoof and the sewterlocks, as you may see described in this figure following. Having thus wispt all his four legs, and made them that they will stick close and fast about his pasterns, you shall then mount upon him: as you rid him with the trammels, so you shall ride him with these wisps, that is to say, the first week you shall ride him very gently, and only keep him in a moderate and reasonable amble, suffering him to take his pace of his own accord, without either your aid or compulsion; the next week you shall for the first three days put your horse to the swiftness of his pace, and make him amble out thoroughly, giving him now and then the iert of your rod, or the stroke of your spurs: & the 3 other latter days you shall thrust him upon uneven & rough ways where the hollowness and incertainty of his treading may express unto you the perfitness and nimbleness of his pace, and in all this fortnight's riding, you shall carry your bridle hand a little more constantly and firmly than you did before when you used the trammels, that you may be ready to help the horse, if at any time he happen to tread false, which I am persuaded he will very seldom or never do, if you rightly keep the observations before prescribed; when you have thus exercised your horse with these wisps, and found his pace perfect as before, than you shall take away the wisps from his forelegs, & keep only those about his hinder legs on still, and so ride him for another week, the virtue whereof is that those wisps will both make him keep his pace, and also cause him by keeping his hinder feet near to the ground to follow his forelegs close, and make his pace more easy. After you have finished this weeks exercise also, than you shall take away his wisps which are behind, and make account that your work is fully perfected, so that now you may adventure either to ride or journey your horse when you please, and whether you please, for be well assured the pace which is thus given unto a horse is the most certainest of all other, and will neither alter nor be forgot, either through dfficultie or want of practice: for the understanding & manner thereof is given unto a horse with such case and plainness, & the faults are corrected so instantly, and with such a natural comeliness, that every horse takes an especial delight and pleasure in the motion, and the rather when he feels that the pace is (as indeed it is) much more easy to his own feeling then the trot, and as it were a relief unto him when his joints with trotting are feebled. Now for as much as there be sundry principal observations to be kept and used in this manner of practice, for want of knowledge whereof many errors both grow and continue in a Horses doings, from whence hath risen most of these imputations, which are laid upon this art, making the abuse of the art & the art itself alone, I will before I proceed further give you the fu● knowledge of these rules; that you may be ever the better assured to make your work perfect. The first therefore is to note well when your horse is first of all tramelled, & comes to strike forth his amble, whether he strike his feet home or no, that is, whether he do not strike his hinder foot at least six inches farther than where he took up his fore foot, as in the true rule of horsemanship he ought to do (which horse amblers, call striking over) you shall then to amend that fault if it be whilst your horse is trameled above the knee, than you shall make the cord of hair, which goes from leg to leg, a full inch shorter than it was, & it will make him strike over, but if it do not at the first bring his feet to overgo one another, but as it were to tread step upon step, that is, to set his hinder foot in the same place where his fore foot did stand, than you shall straighten the cords a full half inch more, & that will compel them to strike over very sufficiently. But if this fault of striking short do not happen whilst the horse is trameled above knee, as for mine own part, I have not often seen because the great liberty of his legs makes him naturally tread forth & take long strides, but that it cometh after a horse is tramelled under the knee, which because of the greater commandment, makes the horse tread more short & suddenly, than you shall only but shorten each of the cords a quarter of an inch, & it will be sufficient: for a quarter of an inch when the tramel is in that part, is as much as if you did shorten it two whole inches when it rests upon the upper part, and will make a horse strike as far over; also if in his ambling you help him by thrusting your legs hard forward stiff upon your stirrups, it will make him bring on his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and strike much farther than otherwise he The second observation which you shall keep in your memory, is to mark if your horse do not err in excess of this former motion, which is to say, whether he do not strike his feet to far over, & take such unreasonable long steps, that he both endangers to overthrow himself, and also in his ambling claps one foot upon another, which is both noisome to the ear; uncomely to the eye and very hurtful both for the man and horse, for the man, if he shall happen to fall, for the horse, if by clapping one foot upon another, he either bruise or wound his heels from whence many times grows dangerous diseases, where when at any time you perceive this fault, you shall first by the temper of your hand carrying it a little straighter than ordmarie, and feeding the horses mouth with gentle motions, you shall make him tread shorter, which if he be a horse of fierce metal he will immediately do without any other help, for his own pride and spirit, joined with the temper of your hand, will work all the effect you can wish, but if he be a horse of slothful nature, and altogether given to the looseness of pace, than you shall as soon as he will in any reasonable good sort amble in his trammels, put him to amble in rough ways, and after he is grown somewhat cunning thereupon, you shall then ride him into some high way which in the winter time, having been rutted & the prints thereof still, remaining in the ground all summer, & there exercise him up and down for at the least an hour or two together, and do thus thrice a day at least, & in one week believe it, you shall make him tread as orderly and as short as either yourself can wish, or the easiness of that ambling pace, may any way suffer without bringing either disgrace or hardness. The next observation you are to mark, is whether your horse in his amble do not straddle or go to wide with his hinder feet, which fault is most general and ordinary withal ambling horses whatsoever, but if you do perceive that naturally he inclines himself thereunto, you shall then for the prevention thereof (because if once he make it a custom it is almost impossible after to reclaim it) ride him into some great road way, which having been worn & racked in the winter, will have a narrow deep path way worn a foot deep and more; & therein exercise your horse daily till you perceive him to amend his fault, and draw his feet unto a decent comeliness, but if you cannot find such a rutted way because for the most part they are proper but only to clay grounds, it shall not be amiss then if you get such a strait path or furrow of some twenty or thirty paces in length, being twelve inches deep, and but sixteen inches in breadth, and therein ride your horse being tramelled every day, till you behold that his fault be amended; But if it happen contrary to this motion, you do observe that your horse goes to strait with his hinder legs, so that he doth enterfaire, or knock one foot upon another, which is a vice seldom found in an ambling horse, yet if at any time it be, it is most insufferable, you shall then to amend it whilst you ride him with the Trammells, have a small line made fast to the upper part of his dock, which line shall run through a long pipe of leather, made round and bigger than a man's arm, which pipe shall come from his dock between his hinder thighs, and with the other end of the small line be made fast to the garths under the horse's belly, the fashion of which pipe and line is contained in this figure following. With this line & long pipe you shall ride your horse whilst you use your trammels, but when you take away your trammels, & put on your wisps, than you shall also lay away this pipe & line; & only be sure to make the wisps as thick again upon the inside of the feet as upon the outside, & there is no doubt to be made of the amendment of the evil, except it be a vice so proper & natural to the horses pace, that even from his first foaling he hath held it, then your only remedy is after you have laid by both trammels, pipes and wisps, to have an expert Smith, who may shoe him continually with good enterfayring shoes, which if they be made indeed with good art & courage, they will keep him open, & make him tread largely enough, the fashion & property of which shoes shall be showed more largely in their proper places. The next observation you are to mark, is if your horse do not take his feet clean & nimbly from the ground, but sweep them so closely alongst the earth, that with stumbling & carelessness, he oft endangers both himself & his rider, them you shall ride him with his trammels amongst thistles, or amongst short, young gorsse, or whins, which pricking his legs, will make him wind them up both decently & without fear of stumbling: also, if he be a horse of good courage, it is good now & then to amble him over ploughed lands, or in plain smooth ways, at such time as the nights are darkest, so that the horse cannot discern his way: but if he only in his pace dash or strike his hinder toes upon the ground, only take up his fore feet in good order, them you shall for a week or more, ride him with shoes behind, which shall have little loose rings jingling behind in the sponges of the heels, and they will make him take up his feet sufficiently, yet in any case you must take heed that you ride not your horse with these ringed shoes an hour longer than the amendment of his fault, lest you make him take up his hinder feet higher than you should do, which is the spoil of all ambling; for I had rather bear with the low sweeping of his hinder feet, then with his too high taking them up: for the first is a great sign of an easy pace, & this latter is a most assured testimony of very hard treading, which being contrary to the work you labour for, may by no means have any toleration. Wherefore for a conclusion of this work if you do at any time obseru that your horse doth take up his hinder feet to high, you shall then make him wear his wisps so much the longer, and if need be, during the time of your teaching, cause the Smith to make your hinder shoes, a great deal the heavier, & thus by applying to these errors, the remedies which are prescribed, you shall bring your horse to all the perfection & goodness which can any way belong to this easy pace of ambling; And if any other tutor in this art, shall either find fault with my precepts, or prescribe unto you any other material rudiments, which may in your judgement run in opposition with these which I have published, my desire is, that out of the wisdom of an even mind, and the true judgement which shall issue from a laboured experience; to way & censure both our reasons, & neither out of will, nor love to novelty, become a prentice to any precepts but those which have the greatest alliance both with art and reason; for no man possible can have that perfection either in this art or any other, which will not at sometimes be accompanied with error. And thus much touching mine experience in this easy Art of ambling. The end of the fourth Book CAVELARICE OR That part of Art which containeth the office of the Keeper Groom of the Stable, or Coachman, how horses shall be ordered both when they rest and when they journey: with all things belonging to their places. The fifth Book. LONDON Printed for Ed. White, and are to be sold at his shop near the little North door of Saint Paul's Church at the sign of the Gun. 1607. To the most noble and most mighty Lord, Edward Earl of Worcester, Lord Herbert of Ragland, Chepstowe & Gower, master of the Horse to his Majesty & Knight of the most noble order of the Garter. TWo strong motives (Right Honourable and most noble Lord) hath emboldened me to offer this part of my labours to your worthy protection; first your own not to be controlled knowledge in all the best parts of the Art; and secondly your place which makes you the great master both of the best horses, and the best professors of the best Horse-manship; and albe it may be objected against me that others of my country men have done so excellently in this subject, that mine will prove but a surcharge to memory, yet (under thereformation of your Honourable favour) I suppose they are so much clad inforraine attire, that their precepts are fitter for reading then practise; and truly for Grison and other of his rank (to whom is due all the worthy praises that possibly can be given) and whose memory I both love and admire this is mine opinion, that were they living at this hour, and saw but some of the horse men and horses of this nation, they would confess that time and perfection had purged their skills of many gross deformities; but of this your Lordship can better judge by your own knowledge than by my relation therefore it shall be grace enough for me, if your honour vouchsafe the view of my pains, and please to number me amongst those which ever will be priest to do your honour service. Gervase Markham. To all those which either ride upon their own horses or are acquainted with travel. AS a horse was at the first created for man's use & service, so I imagine in that creation it was intended that man should in his care and respect of the beast, after his journey, show both the thankfulness of his nature, and the reward due for necessary employment: from whence I gather (and those which either have been mounted ●on jades, or for want of government have had their horses fail them in their greatest needs) can judge, how necessary a thing it is to know how a horse should be ordered both in his journeying & after the end of his labour, in which if I have in this treatise following, given you such sufficient precepts as may both enable your horses, & discharge you of much care and fearfulness, I doubt not but whatsoever malignity shall suggest against me, yet every upright breast will both fortify and defend me, & somuch the rather in that howsoever I may be thought obscure, yet I know I shall not be found absurd. Farewell. G. M. CAVELARICE. The fifth Book. CHAP. 1. How Stables shall be made, the seat and commodities. FOr as much as all horses whatsoever, which be of any worth or estimation, are during the time of their seruiceablnesse for the most part kept in the house, both because the time of the year, when their service is most needful, is in the winter season, and also because the unruliness of stand Horses is so great, that they cannot be kept in order or good temper, if they be not continually under the commandment of the keeper's hand, I think it is fit before I proceed to the office of the keeper, to speak something touching the stable, and such benefits as should perfectly belong thereunto; wherefore first for the site or place where your Stable should stand, I would wish every Horse-master, according to the ability of his power to place his stable upon hard and dry ground, having a certain assent or rising, by means whereof conveyance may be made with trenches or sinks to carry away the piss, foul water, or other wet which shall fall about it. The air wherein it should stand, would as near as you can be very temperate and sweet, having no marishes, or corrupt places about it, especially no Swine-sties, for the very smelling and rubbing of swine will breed both the Farcie and other foul diseases. Adjoining to your Stable, you must ever have either some good Well, Conduit or Pump, and also some fair Pond or running River, the stuff whereon you shall build your Stable, would if your ability will stretch thereunto be either brick or other rough stone, and the wall at least eighteen inches thick, if you want brick or stone, stud and plaster will serve, or if necessity compel lome or lime and hair, or any other stuff which is warm and durable. Your stable would be in proportion longer than broad, and not as some use four square, placing horses on both sides the house; which is both ill and uncomely. The windows of your stable must be upon that side the stable which answers to the horses buttocks, and would open upon the east, that a horse may have the morning Sun: and not as some advise upon the north, for though it be tolerable for some one week in the Summer time, yet it will be most unwholesome for all the winter after: each window about the Stable must have a close shut or false window of boards that you may at your pleasure make the Stable as dark as you will and as light as you will, the windows also would be glazed that neither Birds nor other foul may come therein, whose feathers are to a horse both unwholesome, and sometimes poisonous; in the midst of your stable in convenient place, and against which you may make a lodging for your Grooms, I would have you build a handsome chimney, where when occasion serves, as either in time of a horses sickness or soreness, when medicines are to be made, you may have a fire, or for the warming, airing, & drying of the horses clothes, which at sometimes is as wholesome for him as his meat. Now for the plaunchers of your stable, I agree both with M. Blundevill and Collumella, that they should be of the best heart of Oak that can be gotten, but that they should lie (as they advise) sloping, which is to say, higher before them behind, I am utterly against it, & hold it of all errors the grossest, as not to be tolerated in any place but in Smithfield and amongst Horse-coursers: for first it makes a horse in his standing rest somuch upon his hinder legs, & that with such painfulness, that it not only makes him weak pasternd, but also brings to his legs diseases and swellings: it makes a horse also that he cannot lie easily but taketh most of his rest standing, than which there is nothing more unhealthful, wherefore in any case lay your plaunchers as level and even as you can devise to lay them, and in any wise lay the boards not length ways, that is, from the manger straight down to the grub tree, but lay them overthwart the horses stall, so that he may stand cross the boards: let the grub three which lies at the neither part of the plaunchers against which the horse will many times rest his hinder heels be very strong, and betwixt three or four inches higher than the plaunchers, for the plaunchers must be laid even, & not one board higher than another, yet they must not be so close joined together, but that the horses piss & other moisture may run through the crevices underneath the plaunchers. All along as your sleepers lie to which you pin down the boards, must a Trench or sink be digged, of at least four foot broad, and about three foot deep, which may convey away the horses piss and other filthiness, either into some by dyke or Channel; the flore of your stable which is without your plaunchers, must be even with the very height of your plaunchers, that if your horse atanie time shall go backward off from the plaunchers, yet he may still stand upon a just level. This flore would be paved with round small pebble. At the upper end of your plaunchers you shall place your manger, which would be of very strong boards so artificially and close joined together that neither dust nor any thing how small soever, may scatter out of it. Now whereas certain old writers would have every horse to have a little small locker to himself, to eat his provender therein, I for my part like it not, for a horse as he eats his meat, will turn his head now and then of one side or other, and then having but as it were a little box to eat in, each time he lifts up his head, he will scatter the one half of his meat; and again, it is the delight & nature of a horse to spread his meat, as thin as is possible, and so to eat with the better stomach, whereas when you lay it in a thick heap together, he falls to loathe it and refuse it; you shall ever raise your manger at least four foot from the ground, and not have it above nine inches deep, for the higher your Manger stands, the higher your horse will thrust and bear up his neck, which will be a good help to his rain and countenance, for howsoever it is an use in Italy or allowed amongst some of our horsemen, that there should be no rack but that a horse should receive all his meat downward towards his feet, thereby not to strain his with putting it upward; yet I am of a contrary opinion, and would have a horse to stretch up his head aloft, & to pluck his hay out of a Rack above him, knowing that such putting up of his head doth mend his comeliness and that taking his hay out of his Rack, doth not with blowing upon it make it so soon loathsome; as for the supposition of the filth or dust which should fall into the horses main, it is very idle: for if the Rack be placed right, some small dust (if there be any) may fall upon the horse's nose, but his main it can never touch; wherefore I would have the Rack to be placed of a proporcionable height, answerable to the stature of ordinary horses, and let it stand somewhat upright, leaning as little forward as may be. When thus your planchers are laid, and your Rack set up, you shall divide your stable into several stalls, to the intent that every horse may lie by himself, and those stalls shall be divided at the neither ends with great posts. And if the stable be for great horses, or young colts, then from each post to the manger, shall go a round piece of timber, which hang either in writhe chains, cords, or strong thongs of leather, so that it may swinge which way a man will have it, which will keep horses from striking one at another: or if they do strike, they will defend the blows: but if the stable be for hunting horses, or else running horses, than I would have you to board every several partition from the great post up to the manger, even so high before that the horse may not look over it, as well for the warmness thereof, as also that one horse may not gaze, smell, neigh, or trouble one another, all for hunting horses, and running horses, you shall line also the walls which are before their face with boards, so that they may not gnaw upon the walls, or lick upon the lime, which is suffocating & unwholesome; upon the outside of each post you shall have placed strong hooks of iron, on which you shall hang every several horses bridle, his cavesson & watering snaffle; than you shall have upon each side of the post fastened in with staples, round rings of iron, to which when you put on your horses watering snaffle, you shall tie him up whilst you dress him; then all alongst the other side of the stable between the windows, shallbe placed strong pieces of timber, on which you may hang every horses ordinatie saddle, them shall you have in another place great presses, in which shall be stored all better furniture; then shall you have shelves whereon to lay your cury combs, main combs, dressers, rubbers, hairecloathes, & other cleansing clothes, both woollen and linen; in other convenient places of the stable shall be placed close binggs, or hutches for the keeping of provender, the stable would be seld over head, either with plaster, or lime and hair: in the midst of the stable, or according to the largeness of the stable, I would have either one, two, or three lanterns to hang so as they may give a sufficient light over all the stable. Now for the general use of your stable, whatsoever Vegetius, or other ancient Italians write, to dissuade you from keeping it close and warm, as supposing that it breeds raw digestion, hurts nature, and engenders many diseases, yet I would have no English Gentleman to hold the rule imitable, for we daily find out of our experiences, in keeping hunting and running horses, that there is nothing more healthful, or breeds in a horse greater strength or ability to perform much than the keeping of the stable in a temperate and proportionable warmness; but whereas they say noisome vapours and smells in a stable are unwholesome; to that I agree and would wish every groom that loves his reputation to keep his stable as sweet and as neat as is possible by any labour to be effected, and to that end I would have all those which are keepers of running or hunting horses, whose stronger kind of food makes their ordure to smell so much the vileder, never to be without Storax, and Beniamen, and twice a day at least by burning some upon a Chaffingdish and coals to perfume the stable, which to the horse is both wholesome, and delightful. It is the part of every diligent and careful keeper, to have all his implements, and whatsoever he shall need about his horse, to be placed in fit and convenient places, that when he shall stand in need of any of them, he may readily find them: he shall not suffer any thing whatsoever to be thrown amongst the provender, or to lie upon his hay: for a Horse will find dislike at the least scent whatsoever. Many other observations there are for a diligent keeper, all which shall in their proper places be amply prescribed unto him. CHAP. 2. Of a traveling horses meat, and the several kinds and uses. ACcording to the opinion of the ancient Italian writers (whom I did ever read more for knowledge then practise) the foods which belong to horses are very many & diversly compounded, as grass, hay, straw, oats, barley, wheat, and fitches': or, peace fitches', beans, & wheat-bran mixed all together, or common hors-bread which is made of ordinary chissel, or bran●knodden with water, and the loaves in some places are rolled in spelted beans. Now for the property of these foods; first the Grass Of Grass. questionless is nourishing during the time of summer, whilst the strength of the Sun abides within it, & is food good enough for ordinary traveling horses, but for sto●d horses of great pride and courage it is somewhat too cold and moist, and therefore only to be given phisically, as for a month together in the beginning of summer, only to scour them, which is called the soil time, and if when you give them grass, you give them blades of green corn, it is passing good also. Hay is nourishing, and fil●s out the body, yet it must have some other provender joined with it, or else by reason Of Hay. of the dryness thereof, it will neither nourish sufficiently, nor digest in convement time, but lying in the horse's body, make his belly great and unfashionable. Straw is a hot dry food, and neither nourisheth nor filleth, therefore it is only to be given but seldom, as Of Straw. when a horse is new taken from grass, or when he is in straight diet for running; more for the cleansing and scouring of their teeth, then for any other sustenance. Oats. Oats are exceeding nourishing, light of digestion, and engendereth the best blood, and whatsoever either Galen, or any of the Italians write, we find it by daily proof, the best food that can be continually given to a horse. Now of Oats there be three kinds; one is a great white Oat, the other a great black Oat, and the third a short yellow Oat, called a cut Oat, and although some of our English authors prefer the black oat for the best, yet I assure you the great white Oat which is full, and heavy, is the best and most nourishing, of which kind I have seen in Darbishire some which have (within a very little) weighed as heavy as wheat, next the great white Oats, the yellow cu● Oat is to be esteemed, and the last is the black Oat, for of all the three kinds it is the lightest and least substantial. Now there is a fourth kind of Oat, which is a Skeg Oat, which is a small light naughty Oat, and indeed is fit for pulien rather than horses, for it is but one small degree better than Chaff. Barley is cold and dry in the opinion of Physicians, Of Barley. but according to the natural working of horses, we find it hot, dry, and unsavoury, it nourisheth not at all, but makes a horse thirsty, full of heart burning and subject to faintness. Now if any man demand if it have those faults why it is used so much in Italy, I answer, that their Barley and ours is of a contrary nature, and doth not offend so much, yet neither of them both to be esteemed for good provender, where oats are to be got. Wheat is the greatest nourisher, but yet a food that of all other a horse will soon loath and forsake, for it suffocates Of whea●. and clo●es the stomach; I have not known it used in any place but in Spain amongst the jenets, nor would I have it to be used at all, for it is neither needful for the horse, nor profitable for the owner, if it be not only in the time of sickness. Fitches are a rank gross food, engendering corrupt blood, and unwholesome humours, and if they be not well Of fitches. dried before they be given to a horse, they will breed the pestilence & burning fevers. Pease are a pursy & stopping food, filling up the windpipes, Of Pease. and disabling the horse in travel; if they be not exceeding well dried, they breed in a horse the bots, grubs, and all sorts of worms, together with pain in the stomach, lungs, and generally all over a horses entrails. Beans are nourishing and strong, and highly to be preferred before Pease or Fitches, because if they be given to a Of beans. horse, when they are well dried they breed good blood, and are more light of digestion, yet whensoever they are given they must be mingled with Oats, for to give them simply of themselves; they are somewhat too cloying, and offend a horse in his eating. Now for mingling Pease, beans, Fitches and wheat Of blend torn. bran together, it is a most unwholesome provender, for there is corruption in the fitches, pursiveness in the Pease, & fulsomeness in the Beans, joined unto a most scalding and unnatural heat in the Bran, so that I would wish all that love their horses not to love this kind of food. Now lastly for common horse bread, which is Of horse bread made of nothing but chisel or bran backed, it is neither nourishing nor yet wholesome, but is the original cause of many filthy diseases, as I have showed at large in a former treatise, so that were all Horsemen and travelers of my mind; either Bakers should compound their bread better, or never sell any to Inn or Stable, for I will stand to it, that bread made of a the dust of a milne or a barneflore is as wholesome as any that I have seen come from a common Baker. Now out of these several provenders to show you which is best, for which purpose, you shall understand that for your horse for service in the wars, or the horse kept for high way traveling, or long journeys, your best provender is beans and Oats well kilne dried & mingled together, as thus, to every bushel of beans two bushel of Oats; For the hunting or running horse, clean Oats well kilne dried, or bread made of clean beans, as is showed in the book of hunting: For the cart or plough horse, Pease, beans, & Fitches mixed with Barley chaff, as thus, to a peck of Pease, beans, and fitches, at least a bushel of Barley chaff. For the horse that is kept for sale and is in the hands of the Horse-courser, if he be fat, the best food is a few pease or Beans mixed with oat hulls which are taken from oats when you make Oate-meal, but if he be lean, old, or lack teeth, than either boiled barley whilst it is sweet, or else boiled buck, for both these feed suddenly though corruptly. Now for the quantity which you shall allow; I think for great Horses, or Princes or gentlemen's private saddle ho●ses, which ever should be kept as fat and fair as may be, that two pecks a day is the best proportion; for the ordinary traveling Gelding a peck a day is sufficient, and for the Cart or draft horse, your measure must be to fill his belly before his work, and after his work, or else he will give over his labour. Now if there happen into your charge either Turks, jenets, Arabians or other country horses, which have been used to other foods than these which we employ in England, you shall first as near as you can, either by inquiry of those which formerly had the keeping of such horses, or by proofs in your own practice, learn what food the horse best likes, and in what sort he hath been before kept, and if you dislike either his food or keeping, you shall not alter him suddenly, but by little and little bring him to that diet you shall find best for his body. CHAP. 3. Of the several kinds of Waters, which is best and which is worst. Having in mine imagination told you sufficiently what food or meat is best, and most natural for a horses body, it resteth now that we tell you what drink also is fittest, which by the opinion of all men, & the rule both of kind and custom is only water. Now for as much as there be divers and sundry kinds of waters, as namely the clear spring, or fountain, the Pond, and the running river, and for as much as every one of these according to their situations so do alter in their properties, as the fountain which doth come from the rock is smallest and most scouring; that which comes from chalk, limestone, or salt-water most nourishing, & that which comes from brimstone or Sulphur most corrupt & poisonous: so of Ponds that is fed by afresh spring is smallest, that which is fed by the land flood best nourishing, and that which is only maintained by rain water is most infectious. Lastly of rivers, that which come from a clear spring, and runs upon sand or pebble, being very shallow is ever the sharpest: that which in his running cleanseth common shores, and bears away corruption is the best feeder: but that which is deep, muddy, comes from bogs, and runs slowest, is nought and offensive. Wherefore if Water for a fat Horse. your horse be fat or subject to grossness, your best water is either the Spring which comes from the rock, the Pond which is fed by a fresh fountain, or the shallow brook which runs upon pebble, for they cleanse the body; and reins purge the kidneys, and coz the blood if it be inflamed: but if your horse be lean, old or tender, than your best water is either the fountain which comes from chalk, limestone, or from the seas saltness. The pond which comes of the land flood being cleared by standing, or the river which cleansing cities or great towns, makes himself clear with his running; for these having in them a mixture, or compounded strength, are the pleasantest and most nourishing. In the summer season your running fountain is the best, for it is the coolest, and in the winter your deep Well water is best, for it is the warmest. Now there be of our English writers which would have your horse to drink very much; and if he be not naturally inclined thereunto, to rub his mouth with salt and wine, to make him thirsty; but it is a most wild precept, for the less a horse drinks at one time, the better it is, for many surfeits are taken by drink, but few or none for want, and therefore if you see your horse subject to drink much, you shall then water him the oftener, that he may not drink much at once. To gallop and chafe a horse gently after his water, is the wholesomest motion that may be, for it keeps him from cold, and dropsies, and disperseth the cold vapour of the water through his body, and recovers his stomach. Now for letting your horse stand any long time in the water up to the knees, as many horsemen do, I for mine own part like it not, for it numbs and cools the legs too much & makes the horse apt to surbait: only when you shall perceive your horses cods or sheath to swell, than I would if it be in the heat ofsommer have you to swim your horse once a day either over some deep river or in some deep pond; but if it be in the winter, than I would only have you to bathe his cod & sheath with cold water in the stable. Now lastly, if you have the charge of great horses, who out of their courageous spirits are not easily to be led, the best is ever to water them in the house: but if your charge be of journeying geldings, then 'tis best watering them abroad, and to chase them a little in your hand up & down after their water. And thus much for water and the uses. CHAP. 4. Of the dressing combing, and currying of horses, and of their diet in the time of rest. TO enter into any physical distinctions or allusions of dressing and currying horses, comparing them with the six several kinds of frictions belonging to man's body, or to repeat unto you useless observations, prescribed by the ancient Italians, which neither agree with our clime nor the conditions of our horses, were a labour vain, and a great depriving of the industrious keeper of his best knowledges; wherefore that I may in the plainest manner I can, unfold what necessary precepts belong to the office, I think it not amiss to begin after this manner: First after your horse is taken into the house, you shall put upon his head a strong collar of broad double leather, with two reins of leather, or else round writhe chains with short links running easily through holes made for the purpose in the upper great tree of the manger, in such sort that when the horse puts down his head, the chains may fall down to the ground; and when he thrusts up his head, they may rise to the top of the manger: now the first night that your horse is brought into the house, you shall only give him a bottle of wheat straw into the rack, and so let him stand without litter, or any thing else for that night he will do nothing but empty his belly of grass. The next day about nine of the clock in the morning, you shall take a double rope made of wheat straw twound exceeding hard together, and with it rub his head, face, neck, breast, body, belly, buttocks, and legs, than you shall give him as much water as he will drink (and a fresh bottle of wheat straw if the other be eaten) and so let him stand till four of the clock in the evening, at which time, as you did in the morning, so you shall then rub him over with new ropes of straw: then water him, give him fresh straw into his rack, and let him stand till eight a clock at night, at which time you shall take a great bottle of wheat straw, and spread it under his body, laying it thickest before his forelegges, both because his head may have as it were a pillow to rest upon, and also because horses naturally will with their forelegges put the straw backward. This is called littering of Horses: and when you have thus done, you shall let him rest till the next morning. The third day I would have you come to your Horse at seven of the clock in the morning, and the first thing you do after you have opened your Windows, and washed your own hands, you shall take a shakeforke, that is to say a fork of wood without any iron about it, and with it you shall shake up and thrust backward all the horses dung, and wet litter, putting it from the planchers; than you shall shake up all the dry litter which is unsoylde, forward: and with your shakeforke thrust it up as hard as may be under the manger; then with a shovel well shod with iron for the purpose, you shall shovel away all manner of filthiness from the planchers, and then with a besom either of Birch, or Broome, you shall sweep the planchers and stable so clean as is possible, and so gathering all the filthiness Water for a lean horse: into one place, put it either into a Barrow, or Basket, and carry it into such back places as are for such a purpose. This done, you shall bring into the stable a Pealefull of fair water, and place it hard by the hinder part of the stall where the horse stands: than you shall take a watering snaffle, and a headstall, and after you see that the snaffle is clean without dust or filthiness, you shall dip it into the peal of water, and then put it into the Horse's mouth, and so turning him about, that he may stand with his head where his tail did stand, you shall with a separated rain tie up the Horse to the two Rings, which are fastened into the posts of each side him: this done, you shall take your rope of straw well twound together, and therewith first rub the Horse's face and cheeks all over, then with your finger and your thumb, you shall twitch away all those long and stiffehayres which grow close above his upper eye breeze, and close underneath his neither eye breeze, for they hinder sight: you shall likewise pull away all those long hairs which grow about his nostrils, underneath his chaps, and down his neck to his breast; then as you did before, you shall first rub the right side of his neck, his breast, right shoulder, and right leg, the right side of his body and belly, the right buttock and the right leg, and then you shall go to the left side, and in allthings do as you did upon the right side. This done, you shall take a great Sponge, and having put it into the water, you shall take it forth, and press it a little, then therewith you shall rub over your horse's face, then lay by the sponge, and with your hands rub his face till it be as dry as may be, then wash your hands cleaneagaine, for there will come much filth and durtinesse from the horse; and take the wet sponge and rub the right side of his neck therewith; then with your hand rub that part dry again also, and thus rubbing every several part of his body with the wet sponge as you did with the twound straw rope, and drying them again with your hands, you shall bring away all the loose hairs which are about his body: this done, you shall pick his sheath clean from all durtinesse, and you shall wash his cod and make his yard clean, than you shall lift up his dock, and with a clean cloth rub his ●uell and the partition of his haunches, than you shall take hog's grease, soot, and a little tar mixed together, & dipping a cloth therein, anoint all his four hooves, or for want of it, you may rub his hooves with the upper skin of bacon for it is very good also; than you shall take a yard of haircloth, and rub his head, neck, breast, body, buttocks and legs all over therewith, after it take a housing cloth made of Sackcloth of such largeness, that it may lap over before his breast, and with a surcingle both broad and flat, gird it about him, putting half a dozen soft wisps betwixt the cloth, and the surcingle upon the top of his back, and half a dozen likewise betwixt the cloth, and the surcingle of each side of his heart just behind the elbows of the horse, which do not only keep the horse warm, but withal defend the surcingle from pinching or galling, if it be either hunting horse, or running horse you keep, than you shall for warmness sake wisp the surcingle round about, yet you must be very circumspect that your wisps be made very soft, great and flat, & not as I have seen amongst some that are esteemed cunning, so little & so hard twisted together; that after a horse hath been laid down, you may see the print of his wisps in his sides when he is bared, which both puts the horse to great pain and makes him more unwilling to lie down when he is weary. Now there be some in this land which cannot endure to have their horses clothed at a; & therefore happily will dislike this precept of mine for the clothing of Horses, saying it makes horses too tender, & takes from them ability of enduring hardness, to them I say they are exceedingly much deceived, for it is only those hard customs which makes them unable to endure any hardness at all, & the reason thereof is this, that nature by such hardness, & extremity being put to her uttermost force & strength, to maintain her livelihood, when that hardness at any time is exceeded, she presently faints & foregoes alher vigour & virtue; as thus for example: it is as much as nature can well do to maintain a horse in any good state & strength, without clothes in the stable: if then by extremity he come to be compelled to live without clothes in the field in the extremity of cold & bitter weather, having endured his uttermost before, now feeling it exceeded, he presently grows faint, sick, & oft times dies suddenly, whereas on the contrary part, when nature is cherrisht & fortified by the help of housing, clothing and such like, he gathers that strength and powerfulness that no extremity can daunt him, the experience whereof we see daily amongst hunting horses, & in their extreme matches. Again, to come to a more familiar example, let us look into our own constitutions, what creature is kept more hard, both for hunger and cold than the plough Clown, and who more dainty & voluptuous●e then the Gentleman? yet bring them both to one equal extremity, and one Gentleman will both endure and be serviceable, when a hundred Clowns will die like sheep in a rot year, because the straightness of their lives kept Nature ever lean and in weakness: and of this, when I was a poor commander in the wars, I ever took a principal notice, and held it for a maxim, that the more choice either man or Horse is kept in the time of rest, the more he shall be able to endure in the time of trouble. When you have clothed your horse up as is before specified, If he be a Horse of any esteem, it shall be good if you have a hood for his head and neck made of Sackcloth also, which you shall tie to the noseband of his colour, and to that part of the sur-single, which is over his back: when all this is done, if he be a horse that will not be quietly lead abroad, than you shall bring him a pealefull of very fair water, and let him drink his fill, then having both with a hard wisp, and a clean cloth made his manger very clean, you shall take off his Snaffle and turn him to the manger, then washing the Snaffle and hauging it up, take half a peck of Oats, and putting them into a meal siffe, dust them very clean, and give them to the horse to eat, than put a bottle of Wheate-strawe into his rack; sweep the plaunchers and stable very clean again, then lock up the door & let him rest till it be twelve a clock. At twelve a clock you shall come into the stable, & first you shall make clean the stable & plaunchers: then dipping his watering Snaffle in some fair water, you shall put it on his head, and turn him about as you did in the morning; than you shall take a sharp pair of colling shears and colle the inside of both his ears, as close to the skin as may be, and the upper part of his main next his ears, from the noddle or Crown of his head downward into his main, for the bradth of three fingers, if he be a great horse or traveling gelding, but if he be either hunting or running horse, then for the length of six inches, both because his hairs shall not fly about his face as he gallops, and so trouble him, nor yet cause him to sweat about his ears, to which a horse is too much subject. When you have cold his ears and main, you shall then look about his chaps, and if he be subject to much hair or roughness in those parts, you shall then clip it close away that thereby you may the easilier feel the kernels, and gross matter which is about the roots of his tongue, by which you know when a horse is clean, when not clean, when he hath a cold & when no cold. Lastly, you shall take his tail in your hand, & stretching it down strait by his hinder leg with your shears, clip it close by the upper part of his hinder heel, then taking a wet main comb, & a wet spunge-combe, first his fore top down, than his main, and lastly the upper part of his tail from the setting on thereof, to the uttermost end of the short hairs. When this is done, & your stable swept and made clean again, it will be at least past three a clock, at which time I would have you fetch in a clean peal of water, and place it as you did before, then put your great sponge therein, and your main-comb also; then lay your writhe straw ropes, and your haircloth in some place adjoining unto you, then pull your wisps one by one from your surcingle, and open every wisp, and mix the straw with the litter, & not as slothful keepers do, make your wisps last a week together, so that a horse had as good lie upon stones, as upon such wisps; than you shall unbuckle your surcingle, and roll it up, that it may be flat and smooth, then take off his cloth, and going fourth of the stable, shake it, and dust it very well, then lapping it up, lay it by, & as you did dress, trim, and pick your horse in the morning, so shall you without failing in any one point dress him in the evening, and clothe him again as before, then comb down his foretop, his main, & the upper part of his tail, with a wet maine-combe; then water him, and give him provender, make clean your stable and plaunchers, give him straw into his rack, and so let him rest till eight a clock at night, at which time you shall litter him, and so let him rest till nextmorning. These three days being spent in this order, your horse will have emptied all his grass, and his belly will be taken up well within his ribs, so that now you may both alter his keeping and dressing; wherefore the fourth day by six a clock in the morning, I would have you come into the Stable, and as you did the former days, first shake up his litter, and make both clean his rack and manger, bring in your clean water, wet his watering Snaffle, put it on his head, turn him about, tie him up, pluck out his wisps, fold up his surcingle, and take off his cloth: than you shall take a Currycomb made answerable to the coat and skin of your horse, as thus: if your horse have a thick rough coat and a foul skin, than the teeth of your curry comb shall be made somewhat long and sharp, if his coat be smooth, and his skin clean, than the teeth shall keep their length, but be filled very blunt, but if his coat be like a Mouse-coate exceeding thin and smooth, and his skin very tender, as for the most part, Barbaries, jenets, and Turks are, than the teeth shall be very thick, yet both short and blunt. With your Currycomb in your right hand, and your face being placed against your horse's face, you shall lay your▪ left hand upon the side of his bridle, and fetching your stroke from the root of the horses ear, to the setting on of his neck to his shoulder, you shall curry him with a good hard hand, not leaving any part of his neck uncurryed, then turning your face about, and placing the side of your body to the side of the Horse, laying your left hand upon his back, you shall fetch your stroke from the top of his withers, down to the neither part of the pitch of his shoulder, and at every second or third stroke, you shall strike your comb before and about his breast, and thus you shall with a more moderate and temperate hand, curry his shoulder, half breast and leg down to his knee, but in any wise no lower; then you shall with a like moderate hand, curry his back, side, flank and that part of his belly where his garths rest, as for the chine of his back, and the bar part of his belly next unto his sheath, that you shall curry with such a gentile and light hand as is possible; then with a hard hand again you shall curry all his buttock and thigh close down to his Cambrels but no further: having do one thus much upon one side, you shall then curry him as much upon the other side. Now you shall observe, that whilst you curry your horse, if he keepe● fridging up and down, or offer to bite, strike, or be impatient, that then it is a sign your curry comb is too sharp, and you must amend it, but if you find his uncomeliness only proceeds from ticklishnesse or delight, which he takes in the friction, you shall then ever when you curry him have a small stick in your left hand, & with it correct him for his wantonness. Having thus curried him all over the body, and raised up the dust, you shall then take a dead horse tail nailed about a handle of wood, and with it strike off all the dust which your curry comb raised up: than you shall take a round rubber, which rubber is a round piece of wood all stuck as thick as may be with round tufts of swines bristles cut close and even within a straw breadth or more of the wood, and having a loop of leather on the back side, through which you must thrust your hand, so that the rubber may lie in the very ball of your hand. This rubber (but that it is round and the bristles shorter) is in all points like a common rubbing brush with bristles, such as are used about foul garments: with this rubber you shall curry your Horse over in all points as you did with your cury comb, only your hand shall carry all one weight and temper, and if your horse be so finely skinned that he will not endure any cury comb at all (as there be many) then this rubber shall serve instead thereof. When you have thus gone over him with your rubber, you shall then with your horse tail strike away the dust the seonnd time; than you shall take your wet sponge, and first wetting his face and cheeks, you shall then with your hands rub it dry again, and not leave whilst you discern a loose hair to come away: than you shall look about his eyes, his nostrils, under his chaps, and about his foretop, and if you find any superfluous hairs or otherwise, which grow out of order, you shall either pluck them away, or with your Scissors cut them in order. This done, you shall with your wet sponge and your hands go over all his body, not leaving whilst any loose hairs will come away (as was declared unto you in the third days dressing) you shall with your wet hands rub his ears, both within and without also, first making them wet, and then rubbing them dry against you shall also not omit with your wet hands, to cleanse his sheath, his yard and his cod. This done, you shall take a clean woollen cloth of cotton, and there withal beginning at his face, you shall so proceed and rub the horses neck and body all over, especially between his forelegs or foreboothes, under his belly, between his flank and his body, and upon the chine of his back; than you shall take a hair cloth, and therewithal rub him all over likewise, but especially in the places before rehearsed: this being done, you shall spread your haircloth over his buttocks, & then lay on his cloth upon him again, & having girded the surcingle, you shall stop him with wisps as was before declared: than you shall take a wet maine-comb & comb down his foretop, his main and his tail, than you shall take a peal of fair water, and putting his tail therein close to his mid stern or dock, you shall with your hands wash it very clean, then taking it out of the peal, you shall wring out all the water from the hair into the peal again, than you shall tie up his tail in ten or twelve several hankes, that it may dry again; this done, you shall take such hard writhe straw-roapes, as was before declared, rub and chaff exceedingly both his forelegs from the knee downward, even to the crownets of his hooves, and likewise his hinder legs from the cambrels to the hooves also, picking and rubbing his fewterlockes with your fingers, leaving neither dust, dirt, nor any skirffe within them, then rub both with the ropes & with your hand his pasterns betwixt his fetlocks and his heels, then take a hair clothe kept only of purpose and as you rubbed his legs with the hard ropes, so rub them with the haircloth also, then take up his feet, and with an Iron made for the purpose, pick all his four feet between the shoes and his hooves as clean as may be, then stop them close and hard either with cow dung, or else with hogs-grease and bran molten together; then anno● the outside and cronets of his hooves with the ointment before declared, then washing your hands clean comb down his main & tail with a wet main comb, than water him, and so turn his head to the manger, and put on his collar, then if he be a great horse, you shall sift in a siffe half a peck of Pease and Oates mingled, or else clean Oats, which is the fourth part of his allowance, and the manger being made clean, give them him to eat, but if he be but an ordinary Gelding, than a quarter of a peck is sufficient, which is the fourth part of his allowance also, and whilst he is eating his provender you shall make him a bottle of sweet hay somewhat bigger than a penny bottle in an Inn, and put it into the rack, then sweeping the stable clean, you may let your horse rest till noon. Now if it be either hunting horse or running horse that you keep, you shall when you are ready to depart out of the stable put down the litter under your horse, and then shutting the windows close, depart: In which absent time you must busy yourself in making your hay bottles, or straw bottles for litter, or if your horse be too fat & pursy, by blending wheate-strawe and hay together for your horse to eat, or providing such necessary implements as are to be used in the stable. At twelve a clock at noon you shall come into the stable, and first having swept it, & made it very clean, you shall then take a fair linen cloth, white washed, and therewith first rub your horse's face and neck, then turning up his cloth, rub down his buttocks, his flanks, and leskes, then turn his cloth down again, and then with warm beef broth (which is (ever wanting in great men's houses) bathe his foreleggs from the knee downward, and his hinder legs from the cambrel downward, but if you want beef broth them take train-oil, Sheepes-foot oil, or Neates-foot oil, for any of them is very sovereign, either if your horses legs be stiff & unnimble, or if they be subject to swell, or if his grease have been molten into them. When this is done, you shall sift him into a siue another half peck or quarter of a peck of oats, according to your allowance, and give them him to eat; then having made clean the stable, let your horse rest till three a clock in the afternoon. Now you shall understand, that if your horse be of a tender and dainty stomach, and that he is very apt to grow gaunt, & to lose his belly, or if he be lean, than I would have you to offer your horse at noon a little water also, but not otherwise; at three a clock in the after noon I would have you assoon as you have made your stable clean, to unclothe your horse, and to curry, rub, pick, dress and trim your horse in every point as you did in the morning: then to water him, and to give him another fourth part of his allowance of provender, and another bottle of hay, and so to let him rest till eight a clock at night, at what time you shall come to himand in all points as you used him at twelve a clock at noon, so you shall use him at that time; then putting down his litter, & making his bed, & giving him the last fourth part of his allowance of provender, & hay to serve him for all night, let him rest till the next morning. After the order that you have spent this day, you shall spend every day whilst your horse rests without exercise, that is to say, dressing him twice a day, morning and evening, and feeding him four times a day that is, morning, noon, evening and night, as for his water it must be according to the constitution of his body: If he be fat and foul, twice a day is sufficient: if of reasonable temper thrice: if lean and weak, then four times. Every keeper shall observe by no means to come to his horse suddenly or rashly, but first to give him warning by crying ware I say, or Holla, or such like words: he shall never come or stand directly behind a horse, but always upon one side or other; if your horse be of bold or fierce courage, you shall ever keep a pair of pasterns made of strong double leather, & lined with cotton, put through two tournels fixed to a chain 12. inches long, abouthiss four legs underneath his fetlocks: if your horse have a quality that he will either tear his cloth or pull his wisps out of his surcingle, you shall then tie a long staff alongst his neck, the one end being made fast to his collar, hard by the roots of his ear, the other end to the surcingle close by the upper wisps, so that he cannot writhe or turn his head backward; if your horses main be too thick or ill-favouredly grown, you may with a tasler made of Iron with three or four teeth, make it both as thin as you please, and lay it upon which side of his neck you please. And thus much for the dressing and trimming of a horse, during his time of rest: which method if you diligently observe, you shall be sure to have his coat as smooth and sleek as glass, and his skin so pure and clean, that (did you rub him therewith) he would not stain a garment of velvet. CHAP. 5. Of a Horse's labour or exercise, and how he shall be ordered when he is journeyed. Under this title of Exercise I intent to figure those moderate and healthful motions which increasing the natural heat of those moving parts which sustain the body, give both strength and lively hood to all the inward Organs and vessels of life, as when a man either for his own practice, or to continue his horse in those lessons which he hath formerly learned, or when he would procure his horse an appetite, or give him the benefit of the fresh air, he doth in the morning ride him not till he sweat, but till he have brought him to the point of sweeting, and this exercise doth the most belong to great horses trained for service in the wars. Now under this title of Labour, I comprehend all necessary travel or journeying, wherein being drawn by our worldly business we are forced to travel our horse both to the decay or hazard either of his strength or courage. Now for these two, namely Exercise which doth the more it is used bring the horse more strength & vigour; & labour which the more it is used, the weaker & fainter it makes him, doth belong two several orders of government or keeping; if therefore your charge be the keeping of a great horse whose exercise is but to be ridden an hour or two every other morning, you shall thus prepare him thereunto: at eight a clock at night, which is the night before your horse is to be exercised; after you have made clean your stable, rubbed your horse with your clothes, and littered him, you shall then sift him a double allowance of provender, that is to say, that which is due to him at that time, and also that which he should have the next morning; then look what hay you did ordinarily allow him other nights, you shall now give him half so much this night, and so let him rest till five of the clock the next morning, at what time as soon as you rise (having made clean your stable,) and put up his litter, you shall wet his watering snaffle, and put it on, and turn him about, then losing his surcingle, and taking off his cloth, first with a haircloth rub his face, neck, and body, all over, then with a woollen cloth, and a linen cloth do the like, especially rub his legs passing well; then take his Saddle, having three garths, and a pair of sufficient stirroppes, and stirroppe leathers, and set it upon the horses back in the due place, that is (if the horse be not low before) rather more forward then backward, and gird it on in this manner: take the garth which is fast to the foremost tabbe of the right side, and buckle it to the hindmost tabbe on the left side, and the hindmost garth on the right side to the foremost tabbe on the left side, and the middle garth to the middle tabbe on both sides, and this is called cross girding, being the comeliest, surest and least hurtful manner of girding, for it galls the least, and holds the saddle lastest: you shall not at the first gird the gyrthes hard, but in such sort that the horse may feel them and no more: this done, you shall buckle on his breastplate, and his crupper, making them of equal straightness: than you shall lace on his saker or dock, and make fast his twinsell to the hindmost girth on the left side, then with a wet maine-combe, comb down his fore top and main, and then throwing his cloth over him, let him stand till you have warning to bring him to his rider, at what time you shall take his bit, and having both the Chaule-band, and the nose band open, and the Kurbeloose, you shall first wet it in a peal of clean water, then laying the rain over your left arm, you shall take the upper part of his headstall into your right hand, and laying the mouth of the bit upon your left hand between your thumb and your little finger, you shall put the bit to his mouth, and by thrusting your thumb and little finger betwixt his chaps, compel him to open his mouth, and to receive the bit which by observing this order he can, neither will not choose but do: when the bit is in his mouth, you shall then buckle his noseband, chaule-band, and Kurbe in those due places, as you have seen his rider formerly do; than you shall wet his foretop, and wind it under the forehead band of his headstall; then having combed his main again, and drawn his garths to their places, you shall buckle a pair of large close spectacles made of strong leather before his eyes, which will occasion him to lead quietly: then with your right hand you shall take him by the left side of the headstall close upon the Portsmouth, and with your left hand hold both the reins close together hard by the bit, and so going close by his left shoulder, lead him either to the block or to such place as the rider shall think convenient, then as soon as the rider hath put the reins over the Horse's neck, you shall presently shift your right hand to the right side of the headstall, and laying your left hand upon the right stirrup leather, you shall whilst the rider mounts the horses back, stay the Saddle, that it serve not, then when the rider is settled, you shall unbuckle the spectakles, and take them away, referring the Horse to the discretion of the Rider. As soon as the horse hath been exercised sufficiently, and is brought home, the Rider shall no sooner dismount his back, and deliver him into your hand, but you shall first unloose his curb, and then presently lead him into the Stable, for of all things I cannot endure this walking of Horses, knowing that it was a custom first foolish invented, and now as unprofitablye imitated; for there is not any thing which sooner makes a Horse take cold, or breeds worse observations in the body than this cooling of Horses by walking. When you have brought your Horse into the Stable, where you must have formerly provided great store of dry litter, turning his head down from the manger and hanging the reins of the bit upon some hook for the purpose, you shall first rub his face, than his neck, foreboothes, belly, flanks and legs with dry straw, so clean as may be; then with a woollen cloth, you shall rub him all over again, not leaving any place which he hath wet with sweat till it be as dry as may be, than you shall lose his garths to their utmost length & thrust round about betwixt his garths and his body as much dry straw as you can conveniently get in, then unlace his saker and take it away, rubbing the dock of his tail dry with a woollen cloth, than cast his cloth over the Saddle, then take off his bit and put it into a peal of water, then wash his wattering Snaffle, and put it on, tie him to the rings, and so let him stand for at least two hours, during which time you shall take his bit out of the water, and with a dry linen cloth rub it as dry as may be, and then hang it up: you shall also wipe his saker within, fold up the strings, and lay it by also. Now when your horse hath stood up thus upon his bridle at least two or three hours, & is sufficiently cooled, you shall then come to him, and first taking off his cloth, you shall lose his garths, and take away his saddle, which done, you shall first with dry straw, and then with dry clothes rub his back till there be not one wet hair left, than you shall lay on his cloth again, and girding it slack with the surcingle, you shall stop him round about the body with great wisps: than you shall with hard wisps of straw, and woollen clothes, rub all his four legs exceedingly, than comb his main and tail with a wet maine-combe, take off his snaffle, turn him to the manger, put on his collar, sift and give him his allowance of Oats, and putting a bottle of hay in his rack, let him rest with his litter under him till the evening: than you shall hang the Saddle where the Sun shines hottest that the panel may dry, and if the Sun shine not, than you shall dry it before the fire, and then with a small stick beat the panel, and make it soft; you shall also rub the stirroppes, stirropp-leathers, garths, and every buckle about the saddle exceeding clean: then in the evening about four of the clock you shall curry, dress, rub, pick, anoint, water, and feed him as hath been formerly showed you in his days of rest, keeping every tittle, and every observation. Now if your horse be not for exercise but for labour, and journeying about your worldly business, you shall then thus prepare him, first the night before you are to take your journey about eight of the clock, as soon as you have made clean your stable, rubbed and littered your horse, you shall first give him as much water as he will drink, than a double allowance of provender, and as much hay as he will conveniently eat, than you shall anoint all his four legs with train oil, and see that his shoes be good, strong, rough, easy, and his feet well stopped, and so let him rest till very early in the morning, at what time you shall curry and dress him as sufficiently as in any of his days of rest; than you shall gird on the saddle, in which you mean to ride, which would be both easy, light and square: easy for your own seat, light that it may not suddenly make the horse sweat, and square that it may not pinch, gall or wound him: when he is saddled, you shall give him a little water, but nothing near so much as he would drink, and his full allowance of provender, which as soon as he hath eaten, you shall bridle him up, and truss his tail short above his houghs, and so let him stand till you be ready to take your journey. After you are mounted you shall for the first hour or two in your journey, ride very temperately, as not above three mile an hour, in which time your horse will be reasonably emptied, and then you may put him fourth as your journey requires, it shall be good if in your journey you come to the descend of any great Hil, to light from your Horses back, and to walk down the hill a foot, taking occasion by standing still a while, or by whistling to see if your horse will piss, which if he refuse to do, them it shall be good for you yourself to piss under the horse's belly, & it will without all question provoke your horse to piss, you shall in your traveling as near as you can, keep one certain pace in your travel, and not one while gallop, another while amble or troth, and another while go foot pace, or stand still, for there is nothing which either sooner tires a horse or brings him to surfeites, or takes from him delight in his labour. When you come within two or three or four miles of the Inn where you mean to rest all night, you shall in the convenientest place you can find, as either in some running brook or river, or some fair fresh pond, water your horse, suffering him to drink as much as he will, and in this watering of your Horse you shall observe to ride him into the water a handful at the most above the knees & no further, for to ride him under the knees will endanger the foundering him in his feet, and to ride him up to the belly will hazard foundering him in the body. After you have watered your Horse you shall gallopp him gently upon the hand for twelve score, or there about, and then in his ordinary journeying pace, ride him to his Inn, and as soon as you are lighted, presently set your Horse up into the Stable, by no means (although it be the general custom of our Nation) suffering any Ostlers or idle Boys to wash him, for it is the only venomous poison & worst evil you can bestow upon your Horse's body; sometimes foundering him, sometimes thrusting him into the fit of an Ague, and when it works the best yet it strikes such an inward cold into his body, that the Horse is worse therefore sometimes for a year after: when you have set your Horse up, tied his head to the empty rack, and put great store of litter under him, you shall then first with dry wisps rub his belly, foreboothes, & under his flanks betwixt his thighs and body, then shall you rub all his four legs passing clean, with your hands wet in water, scouring all gravel and dirt both out of his Fetlocks, pastern, and every other cranny which is about any joint, especially 〈◊〉 the bottom of his breast between his forelegs, and betwixt his ribs and his elbows & also between his flank and his body, then with dry wisps you shall rub and make clean his face, head, neck, buttocks, and every other member, not leaving whilst there is one wet hair about him, then shall you with dry wisps make clean his stirrups, and stirrup leathers, and unloosing his garths one by one, make them clean also, then making your housing clothe ●die (without which I would have no keeper to ride if his horse be of any estimation) take off your saddle, and with dry straw rub his back very sound, then laying a good deal of straw upon his back, gird his cloth over it with your fur single, and stop him round about with great wisps, than you shall unlose his tail, and if it be dirty you shall wash it in a peal of water, and after you have wrung it well, you shall tie a great wisp of straw within it, to keep it from his legs. If you 〈◊〉 no housing cloth for your horse, than you shall not so suddenly remove your Saddle, but after your horse is sufficiently rubbed, you shall then stop his garths with great wisps round about. Many Horsemen use as soon as they bring their Horse into the Stable, to knit a thumb rope of Hay or straw as strait as may be about the upper part of the horses dock, and do imagine it will preserus him from taking cold, and doubtless it is very good indeed. After you horse is in this wise rubbed, dried, and cleansed from sweat and filthiness, you shall then take up all his four legs one after one, & with an Iron pick all the dirt and gravel from betwixt his shoes and his feet, and then stop them up close with Cowe-dung, than you shall put into his Rack a penny bottle of hay on which you shall let him tow●e and pull, with his bridle in his mouth still, whilst you shake up his litter handsomely about him, take your saddle, and if the panel be wet, dry it by some fire, then with a stick beat it and make it soft, then pull off your own boots; and refresh yourself to your own contentment, in which business having employed yourself an hour or more, then come into the stable and take your horses bridle and put on his collar, then wash the bit or Snaffle in fair water, dry it with a linen or woollen cloth, and so hang it up handsomely; then after your horse hath eaten hay a quarter of an hour or more, you shall in a siue sift him half a peek of clean Oats, or Pease and Oates, which your Horse likes better, and give them him, then if he have eaten all his hay, you shall give him an other bottle, and so let him rest till yourself have supped. After supper you shall come to your horse and turn up his cloth even to his surcingle, and either with a haircloth or with dry wisps, you shall rub his body all over, especially under his belly and between his legs: than you shall look upon his back, whether your saddle have pinched or wrung his back, and if it have you shall lay a little wet hay upon the swelling, and presently cause some sadler to mend your saddle, than you shall look if the heat of your saddle have not raised any warbles or little knots upon his back, which is very common with fat horses, and if it have, you shall bathe them with a little Sack heated in a saucer, and they will be well the next morning. This done you shall sift him another half peck of Oats, and give them him, then whilst he is eating them, you shall with hard dry wisps, rub all his four legs as dry as may be, and then take a quart of man's urine, and put thereto four ounces of sault-peeter, and having boiled them upon the fire, and stirred it well together, take it off, and being reasonable warm, bathe all his legs therewith exceedingly: then let him stand for an hour or two after, than you shall take a Peal full of cold water, and put thereto as much hot water as will make it lukewarm, and so give it your horse to drink: then sift him another half peck of Oats, and give them him: then give him as much hay as shall serve him all night, the proportion whereof you may guess by his former keeping; and putting his litter close and warm about him, let him stand till the next morning, at what time (according to the haste of your affairs) you shall come to him either earlier or later, and the first thing you do after you have put away his dung, you shall put off his cloth, and curry, rub, and dress him as sufficiently, and in such manner as hath been formerly declared unto you: then cast his cloth over him, and let it hang loose about him, then bring him a little cold water, and let him drink, but not half so much as he would; then give him an other half peck of Oats, and whilst he is eating them put on your own boots, and prepare yourself for your journey, which done, come to your horse; and if he have eaten his Oats, than you shall saddle him, truss up his tail, bridle him, & tie him up to the bare rack, having taken his hay away, then take up all his four feet, and pluck out the cow dung wherewith you stopped them and pick them exceeding clean; then let him stand till you be ready for your journey. Now if it be so that the occasion of your journey be so great, that you cannot observe any traveling pace, but are forced to gallop your horse at least twenty, or thirty, or forty mile together; in this case, I would not have you by any means to water your horse before you come to your Inn, but having set him up warm, and rubbed him dry, as is before showed; you shall then before you give him hay, or any thing else, take a pint of very good Sack, and warming it lukewarm, give it your Horse with a Horn, and so let him rest half an hour after, and then give him hay, and order him as was before showed, only in stead of warm water late at night, you shall give him a warm mash of malt and water, for that with the help of travel, will bring away his molten grease; if the next day following you are to ride him as violently also; you shall then when you are ready to take his back, give him a pint of Sack and Sugar-candy well brewed together, and in your travel ever favour him as much as you can in the beginning, and put him forth as violently as you please at the latter end of your journey. If you happen upon such an Inn where you can neither get Sack nor Sugar-candy, then if you take strong Ale brewed with great store of Ginger, or Cinnamon, it will be as good. If your horse be of a tender and dainty stomach, so that he will refuse his povender (as for the most part hot metaled horses and young horses unacquainted with travel will do) than you must take the greater pains, and be ever feeding them, never giving them above an handful at once, till they have eaten to your contentment. You shall also change their meat oft, as thus: after an handful of clean Oats, you shall give an handful of Pease and Oates; and after Pease and Oates, half a dozen bits of bread. And thus by alteration of food you shall both make your horse eat well, and also strengthen his appetite: but if contrary to this, your horse be both a great eater, and a gross, than you shall feed him so oft, and with such large proportions, that you bring him to stand and blow upon his meat as it lies before him. But this you must not do by any means suddenly, or at one time when your horse is hungry, for that were to kill him, or make him surfeit: but you must do it by such leasurable times, that nature having no more than she is able to digest, may in the end come to be orderly satisfied: at what time, and not before, you may be assured your horse is in perfit strength and keeping. The first principal note or rule which every good keeper shall observe when he comes into any strange stable, is with his own hands to cleanse the rack from all dust, filth, hay, or hay-seedes, and to rub the manger also as clean as may be in every part, lest any infectious Horse have stood there before, which is most dangerous: and for prevention whereof I would ever have you in an Inn to let your horse eat his provender in a Skuttell, or some other cleanly vessel, and not in the manger. Now lastly, where as the most of our English travelers do use (especially in the Summer) to bait or rest their horses at the noon time of the day, supposing it prepares them the better for their journey: although I know the heat of the day is troublesome, both to the horse and man. yet I know these baitings are much more troublesome, neither would I have any man to use them; for when the horse hath his limbs chafed and heated with his travel and then is set up till they be grown stiff and sta●ke, and so presently put to his labour again, than I say the very pain and grief of his limbs do so trouble him, that except he be of an extraordinary spirit, he will be much subject to faintness in travel; besides to make your horse journey continually upon a full stomach is both painful, and bredes sickness; wherefore I conclude, these baits are good for none but Carriers & Poulter's jades, whose labours not being above foot pace, may ever like Asses have their provender bags at their noses. And thus much touching a horses exercise and labour. CHAP. 6. Of sleeping, waking, fullness, and emptiness. Sleep in a horse (as in every other beast which hath moving) is a most necessary and especial thing, neither can a horse live without it, wherefore it is the place and office of every good keeper, to have a careful regard to the rest of his Horse, and to note both after what manner he sleepeth and how long he sleepeth: for if a horse sleep very much, it is a great sign of dullness, and flux of gross and cold humours in the brain: but if he sleep for the most part standing, it is a token that he hath some inward pain in his back, or body, and feareth to lie down, lest he cannot rise again without much torment: if a Horse lie much, yet sleep but a little, it is a sign of weak joints, frettized feet, or limbs beaten with travel: if the horse neither sleep, nor lie much, but as it were wake continually, it is a sign the horse hath both a pained body, and a troubled mind, insomuch that he can not possibly live long, both because he wants that which giveth the greatest strength to Nature, and also the chiefest means both of blood and digestion; sleep being indeed nothing else but certain sweet vapours, which ascending from the heart, numbes the brain, and keeps the body for a time senseless, so that every keeper should have a careful eye over his Horse, to see how he sleeps, when, and how long time: then how he wakes, when he wakes, and after what manner he wakes, for if he wake much, his brain is diseased, if he wake often or suddenly, his heart, liver, or stomach is grieved; and if he wake seldom or with much ado, than his whole powers are overcome with some cold humour. Next unto these observations, the careful keeper shall look to his horse's fullness, or the filling of his belly, I do not mean those physical fillinges which consist in humours either generally or particularly distributed over the body, consisting in quantity or quality, for they are observations fit for the farrier; but to that fullness which only consisteth in the excess of meat, wherefore the keeper shall note well the temper of the horses feeding, that is, whether he fill suddenly or slowly and according to his filling, so to temper his diet, and to give him the less or the more meat according to his appetite keeping the gross horse empty the longer before his travel, and the tender horse with meat till your foot be ready to be thrust into the stirrup, for the full horse with sudden labour will soon burst, & the empty horse with much fasting will not be able to endure any violence through faintness. Next to your horses filling you shall note his manner of emptying, that is the state of his body, whether he be costive or sollible, or whether his urine have a free or troublesome passage, & by the rule of them you shall feed your horse more as less, as thus, if your horse be sollible or free of urine, you through that help of nature may adventure to feed him the harder, for albe he fill much yet he holdeth not that fullness any long season, but having an easy digestion, brings his body soon to a temperate emptiness: but if he be costive or have strait passage for his urine, although fasting be the greatest cause of costiveness, yet when you prepare your horse for a journey, you shall not need to feed him so extremely, neither shall your meat be for the most part any dry food but rather moist washed meat, of which foods I shall have cause to speak more largely in the book of running Horses. Now you shall understand that fullness and emptiness are physic helps one for another, the full horse being to be cured by emptiness, as fasting, purgation, letting blood, or such like: and emptiness to be cured by fullness, as by restoration or renewing of those powers which are decayed; so that the keeper carefully observing these rules shall so quickly perceive any imperfection in his horse, that a sleight prevention shall quickly avoid the greatest mischief. And thus much for sleep and feeding. CHAP. 7. Of the soil or scouring horses with grass, and of other foods. TOuching the opinions of Horsemen for the scouring of Horses with grass, they be divers and intricate; some holding forage, which is the blades of green Corn, as of wheat or barley to be the best, some three leaved grass, some young thistles, and such like, so also there is a difference amongst them for the time in scouring; one allowing but fifteen days, another a month, and another the whole summer, neither are they certain in the place where the Horse should be scoured, for some would have it in the stable, some in a large park or field, and some in a little walled plot of ground, not above the quantity of one or two Acres. Now to reconcile all these, and to bring them to as orderly a conformity, as is fit for a reasonable understanding, I will declare mine opinion. First, if your horse be either Hunting horse, running horse, or one that hath been used to much travel or journeying, I hold it very necessary that he be scoured with grass, either in some park, close or other spacious ground, where he may have sweet feeding, fresh springs, or rivers to drink at, and good shelter both to defend him from flies and Sunshine; the time to be for four months, that is to say, from the beginning of May to the end of August, in which time he will not only scour and purge himself of gross and corrupt humours, but also after such cleusing grow strong, fat, and full of health and liveliness, recovering by such rest and liberty, that weakness, stiffness and numbness of joints which his labour before had brought unto him. But if your horse be a beast of great courage, and only wantonly kept, either for your morning's exexrcise in riding, or for service in the wars, so that he will neither endure with any patience abroad, nor hath been put to any such extremity that he standeth need of recovery; then I would have you only to put him to the soil within the house: that is to say, you shall from the beginning of june, till the beginning of july feed your Horse only with grass & no longer: & during the time, you shall neither clothe him, dress him, nor ride him, only you shall keep his plaunchers clean from dung, & litter him with nothing but the off all or refuse grass which he pulls into the manger, but will not eat: you shall also during this soil time feed him with provender in such sort as you did at other times, only I would have his provender to be beanbread well baked, as for his grasle, if the first three days of soil time, you do give him 〈◊〉, 'tis exceeding good, and after the sourest grass you can get as that which in Orchards grows under fruit trees, or else such as grows in Garden alleys, for the more sourer and courser the grass is, the better it scoureth; and in this case you should respect no feeding, neither should you mow any more grass at one time than your horse can conveniently eat in the instant; as for making your horse to neese much, or to purge his head much by fumigation in the soil it is needless, for the grass itself will do it sufficiently without any other medicine. If your Horse during his time of being in the soil, happen to swell in his sheath, or about his cod, it shall be exceeding good in that case once or twice a day, either to swim him, or ride him through some water that will reach above the horses mid belly; but for making a daily exercife of swimming him without any special occasion, I do greatly disallow it, for it both strains a horses limbs, and brings him within the danger of Cramps and convultions, neither do I allow (although it be the practice both of the Italians and some of our English keepers) to give a horse when he is in soil either scouring or Purgation, as either sodden Rye, Melons, green Figs, the entrails of a Tench or Barbell mixed with white wine, or any such like trumpery, for I have seen where such like courses hath been taken that the horse hath fallen into such an unnatural scouring, that no possible means would stop it, till the horse hath died with the violence. Others have used in the soil, in stead of wholesome and dry provender, which is fittest to be mixed with such cold, moist, and raw food, to give their horses either sodden beans well salted, and wheat bran, or Coleworts and bran or else boiled Buck, all which are both unwholesome, full of rottenness, and breed many foul diseases, wherefore I advise all keepers to be careful to eschew them; and rather to take leisure and feed with such foods as are both healthful & natural, of which kinds you have had alteadie formerly declared. And thus much touching the Soil, and the scouring of horses in the summer season. CHAP. 8. Of the passions which are in horses, and the love which keepers should bear unto them. Leaving to make any philosophical discourse, or to argue of the passions or affections which are in horses, how they have their beginnings from sense, and their workings according to the course of nature. It is most certain, that eveire horse is possessed with these passions, love, joy, hate, sorrow, and fear: the first two springing from the alacrity, cheerfulness, and good disposition of the mind, by which the Horse is made to be familiar with the man, obedient, kind and docible, the other three from the corruption and putrefaction of nature, by which he becomes fierce, mad, and full of amazement, so that it is the office of every keeper out of his judgement and experience to learn to know when and at what time his horse is oppressed or troubled with the Flux of any of these affections, that he may by the applying of fit remedies abate and suppress them in the excess of their greatness, which nothing doth at any time sooner bring to pass then the mildness and gentle disposition of the keeper towards his Horse, for it is most certain, that when keepers of Horses either out of their choleric furies, or ignorant misbehaviours, do any thing about a horse either rashly, violently, or with the use of unnecessary torment, that they only by such indiscretion do create in horses all those evil affections from whence any restive quality doth proceed, and therefore every keeper must with all lenity and soberness both in word and action procure the love of the horse which he keepeth. And yet I do not mean that a good keeper shall be altogether so void of indignation, that he shall suffer his horse to run into any kind of vice, without the touch of correction, for thereby I have seen many horses so dissolute and disobedient that they have gone beyond the power of reclaiming, whence it hath come that some Horses have slain their keepers, and some have done almost as evil in other courses. A good keeper therefore must know when to correct and when to cherish, not giving either blow or angry word, but in the instant of the offence, nor to punish or strike the horse any longer than whilst his present fault rests in his memory. Also I would have the keeper to observe, that where gentleness and meekness will prevail, there by no means to put in any use, either terror or torment, for as the keeper's greatest labour is but to procure love from the Horse, so the only thing that is pleasant to the Horse, is love from the keeper; insomuch that there must be a sincere and incorporated friendship betwixt them or else they cannot delight or profit each other, of which love the keeper is to give testimony, both by his gentle language to his horse, and by taking from him any thing which he shall behold to annoy or hurt him, as moats, dust, superfluous hairs, flies in Summer, or any such like thing, and by oft feeding him out of his hand, by which means the Horse will take such delight and pleasure in his keeper's company, that he shall never approach him, but the horse will with a kind of cheerful or inward neighing, show the joy he takes to behold him, and where this mutual love is knit and combined, there the beast must needs prosper, and the man reap reputation and profit. And thus much for the horses passions and the keeper's affections. CHAP. 9 The Office of the Coachman, and observations for his place. THe use of Coaches hath not been of any long continuance in this kingdom, especially in that general fashion, as now they are used: for if formerly they were in the hands, and for the case of some particular great persons, yet now either through the benefits which are found by them, or through the unaccustomed tarenesse of them, they are grown as common as hackneys, and are in the hands of as many as either esteem reputation, or are numbered in the Catalogue of rich persons: wherefore since they are in such general use, and esteemed such a general good, I think is not fit in this my general book of horsemanship, to omit or forget some necessary observations which are helping and needful to be known unto the skilful Coachman, and the rather, sith the commodities which redound thereby, are chiefly employed in the services of Ladies and Gentlewomen, to whom both myself and every honest man is in his first creation obliged, yet I do not mean here in to make any tedious or long discourse, either of the benefits of Coaches, the diversities, proportions, shapes, nor alterations, because every understanding Coach-maker, and every serviceable Coachman can give proofs and reasons of each difference: neither is my profession to meddle with the shapes of timber, but with the natures of horses; nor will I speak of the several customs or fashions of Italy, or France, because as far as I can judge, whatsoever we practise in this art of Coach-governing, is but an imitation of the shapes and changes of those Kingdoms; therefore for mine own part I mean here only to handle some few notes touching the choice of Coatch-horses, their keeping, and apparaling. First then to speak of the choice of Coach-horses, some are of the opinion that your Flemish Horse is the best for that purpose, because he is of strong Of the choice of coatch-horses. limbs, hath a full breast, a good chine, and is naturally trained up more to draft, then to burden: others do prefer before these horses the Flemish Mares (and I am of that opinion also) both because of their more temperate and cool spirits, their quiet socyablenes in company, and their bringings up, which only is in the waggon, by which means traveling with more patience, they are ever of more strength and endurance, yet both these horses and Mares have their faults ever coupled to their virtues, as first their paces are for the most part short trots, which contain much labour, in a little ground, and so bring faintness of spirit in little journeys, whereas indeed a Coach horse should stretch forth his feet, and the smother and longer he strides, the more way he rids, and the sooner comes to his journeys end without tiring. Next, their limbs from the knees and Cambrels downward are so rough and hairy, and the horses naturally of themselves so subject to salt and fretting humours in those parts, that neither can the coachman keep them from the Pains, scratches, Mallenders, Sellanders and such like diseases, nor the farrier oft times with his best skill cure them when they are diseased. Lastly they are for the most part of resty & hot spirits, so that albe they be excellent and forward in the draft, yet in our English nation amongst our deep clays and miry ways, they are not able to continue, but grow faint and weary of their labour, and it is ever a rule amongst them, that after they have been once tired, there is no means again to restore them to their first metal or spirit. Now to tell you mine opinion which is the best Coach-horse either for streets of Cities, or journeying upon high ways, I hold not any horse comparable either for strength, courage or labour with the large shaped English Gelding, for he is as mild and sociable as the Flemish Mare, more able to endure travel, better shaped, and longer continues in service, for the Mare if she be proudly kept (as of necessity the Coach mare must be) she will then covet the horse, and if she have him and hold to him, her years service is lost: if she want him, you shall either endanger her life with the corruption of her pride, or else with Leprosy; but if they be speed or gelte mares, they be then the worst of all, for the body & spirits being somuch overcoold, they are utterly disabled for any violent extremity; look how much the Gelding is short of the stond-horse in courage, somuch is the speed mare short of the gelding: wherefore for the avoidance of all inconveniences, the best for the coach is the large, strong english gelding, the next him is the Flemish mare, and the last is the Flemish horse, the Pollander is exceeding good, but he is somewhat too little & too fierce of nature, but for tiring that will he seldom or never do, with any indifferent order. When you have determined touching the breed, or race of your coach-horses, you shall then look to their shapes & colours; first for their colours, I have formerly showed you which is the best, so that you shall observe that in any case (so near as you can choose them) your coach-horses be all of one colour, without diversity, & that their marks or especial semblances be also alike, as thus for example: if the one have either white star, or white rache, bald face, white foot, or be of pied colour, that then the others have the like also. For their shapes, you shall choose a lean proportioned head, a strong & firm neck, a full, broad, & round out-breast, a limb flat, short jointed, lean and well haired, a good bending rib, a strong back, and a round buttock; generally they would be of a broad strong making, and of the tallest stature, for such are most serviceable for the draft, & best able to endure the toil of deep travel. Now for the properties, they must be as nearly allied in nature & disposition, as in colour, shape and height, for if the one be free, & the other dull, than the free horse taking all the labour, must necessarily overtoile himself, and soon both destroy his life & courage, so that they must be of alike spirit & metal: also you must have an especial regard that their paces be alike, & that the one neither trot faster than the other, nor take larger strides than the other, for if their feet do not rise from the ground tohether, & likewise fall to the ground together, there can be no indifferency or equality in their draft, but the one must overtoyle the other, where as indeed they ought to be of such equal strengths, paces, & spirits, that as it were one body their labour should be divided equally amongst them; they ought also (as near as you can) to be of loving, tractable and mild dispositions, not given to bite, strike, & especially not to yark & strike with their hinder legs backward, for it both doth endanger the life of the man, and also doth hazard the spoiling of the horse, by overthrowing himself in his harness. They should also have perfect good & tender mouths; & aught to have their heads well settled upon the bit before they come into the Coach, being learned to turn readily upon either hand, without discontentment or rebellion, to stop close and firm; and to retire back freely with good spirit and courage; which are lessons fully sufficient to make a complete good coach-horse; for although some coachmen more for bravery or pride than either for art or profit, will make their horse stand and curvet in their Coaches, yet I would have all good Coachmen know, that such motions are both unfit, uncomely, and most hurtful for Coach-horses; not only taking from them the benefit and delight in travel, but also making the Horse to mistake his corrections, and when he grows to any faintness or dullness, or comes into any such ground where the depth thereof puts him to his full strength; nay sometimes the coach sticks & will not come away at the first twitch, if then the coachman iert them forward with his whip, they presently fall to curvet & leap, refusing to draw, in their greatest time of necessity. Now for the manner of keeping them, and dieting them; they are in all points to be dressed, picked, and curried like your ordinary traveling horse, and to have their food and walkings after the same manner, only their allowance of provender would be of the greatest size, for their labour being for the most part extreme, and themselves generally Horses of gross nature, their chiefest strengths moste often depends upon the fullness of their bellies. In journeying you shall use them as is before taught, for journeying horses, only if they be either Flemish Horses or Flemish Mares, and by that means be subject to pains and Scratches, then after your journey when you have bathed your Horse's legs with piss and saltpeter, you shall then anoint all his pasterns and Fetlocks, with Hogs-grease and mustard mingled together, and if he have either scratches, or pains, it will kill them; if he have none, it will prevent them from growing, & keep his legs clean howsoever he be disposed. Now for the harneysing or attiring of Coach-horses, you must have a great care that the long pillow before his breast, be of gentle leather, full, round and very soft stopped, and that the little square pillows over the point of his withers and tops of his shoulders, be likewise very soft, for they bear the weight of his harness, and some part of his draft, you shall see that the hinder part of your harness which compasseth the neither part of his buttocks, and rests above the horses hinder houghs be easy and large, not freiting or galling off the hair from those parts, as for the most part you shall see amongst unskilful Coachmen, the draft breadthes or Coach treats, which extend from the breast of the horse to the bridge tree of the Coach, must be of exceeding strong double leather, well wrought and sewed, which (till you bring your horse to the Coach) you must throw over your horses back croswise, your headstall and reins of your bridle, must likewise be either of strong leather, or else of round woven lines, made of silk or thread, according to the ability of the owner, or the delight of the Coachman: yet to speak the truth, those lines of silk or thread are the better, because they are more nimble, and come and go more easily: as for your bits, and the proportion of your checks, they are formerly described, and must be sorted according to the quality of the horses mouth. Now forasmuch as I cannot so sufficiently in words figure out the proportions of every several part of these harnesses, neither in what sort they shall be ordered because they alter according to the number of the horses, two horses being attired after one sort, three after another, & four different from both, to give a full satisfaction to every ignorant Coachman: I do therefore advise all that are desirous to better their judgements in such knowledges to repair to the stables of great princes where commonly are the best men of this art, & there to behold how every thing in his true proportion is ordered, & from thence to draw unto himselfrules for his own instruction; only these sleight precepts I will bestow upon him: first, that he have ever a constant sweet hand upon his horse's mouth, by no means losing the feeling thereof but observing that the horse do rest upon his bit, and carry his head and rain in a good and comely fashion: for to go with his head loose, or to have no feeling of the bit, is both uncomely to the eye, and take from the horse all delight in his labour. Next when you turn upon either hand, you shall only draw in your inmost hand, and give your outmost liberty as thus for example: If you turn upon your left hand, you shall draw in your left rain a little straighter, which governs the horse upon the left side, and the right rain you shall give liberty unto, which governs the horse on the right hand, so that the horse of the near side with the left hand coming inward, must necessarily whether he will or no, bring the horse of the far side, (which is the right hand) to follow him: and in these turns you must ever be assured to take a full compass of ground, both according to the length of the Coach, and the the skill of the horses, for there is nothing doth amaze or disturb a coach horse more than when he is forced to turn suddenly, or straighter than the Coach will give him leave, whence he first learns to gag up his head to lose his rain, and to disorder contrary to his own disposition. You shall also make your horses after they have stopped, stand still constantly, and not to fridge up & down pressing one while forward, an other while backward, both to the disease of themselves, and the trouble of others: the Coachman also shall not upon every sleight error or slothfulness correct his horse with the ierte or lash of his whip, for that will make them dull upon the correction, but he shall rather now and then scar them with the noise and smart sound of the lash of his whip, suffering them only to feel the torment in the time of greatest extremity: you shall when you first intend to break a horse for the Coach for two or three days before you bring him unto the Coach, cause him to be put unto the Cart, placing him in that place which Carters call the lash, so that he may have two Horses to follow behind him, whom together with the load that is in the Cart he cannot draw away; and two horses before him, which with the strength of his traytes will keep him in an even way without flying out, either upon one side or other. Thus when you have made him a iittle tame, and that he knows what it is to draw, and feels the settling of the neither part of the collar unto his breast, than you may put him unto the coach, joining unto him an old Horse, which hath both a good mouth, and is of cool qualities, that if the younger horse shall fall into any frantic passion, yet his staidness may ever rule and govern him, till custom and travel have perfitly brought him to know his labour: I have seen a Coach man who hath put too young horses unbroken into a Coach together, and I have seen them run away, overthrow and break the Coach, and mischief the Coachman: wherefore I would have every Coachman that will work with Art and safety to take longer time, more pains, and by the method before showed to bring his horses unto perfection. The last observations that I would have a Coachman keep, is that whensoever he goes abroad with his Coach, he be assured ever to carry with him his horses clothes, that whensoever he shall be forced either through attendance, or other chances to stand still any long time, he may cast the clothes over his horses, to keep them warm, and from the coldness of the weather. He shall also have ever in his Coach Coffer, Hammer, Pincers, Wimble, Chessell, & Nails, that if any small fault happen about his Coach, he may himself amend it, he shall also have in his Coach Coffer, ointments for his horses legs and hooves, especially if he be Flemish, for they have seldom or never good hooves; he shall also have shoemakers blacking to dress the outside of his Coach and harness with: he shall have a brush for the inside, a blunt iron to dress his wheels, either oil or soap for his axeltrees; and main-combe, currycomb, and other dressing clothes for his horse, so that generally he shall keep his Horses neatly; his wood-worke cleanly, his leather black, his buckles bright, and every other several ornament in such comeliness, as may be for the owner's profit, and the keeper's reputation. And thus much for the Coachman and his office. The end of the sift Book. CAVELARICE OR The Currier. Containing the Art, knowledge, and diet of the running Horse, either in training up, or in any great match or wager. The sixth Book. LONDON Printed for Ed. White, and are to be sold at his shop near the little North door of Saint Paul's Church at the sign of the Gun. 607. To the Right Honourable the most noble and mighty Lord philip Herbert Earl of Mountgomerie and baron of Shirland. AS oft a● I behold that poor house from whence I am descended, so oft I behold undying monuments of the noble and gracious favours which by your famous Grandfather and most renowned Father, were plenteously powered upon our family, so that whilst the glue of Lime and Simant shall knit stones together, so long in our house will be held their memories. from these motives (most excellent Lord) and from the love I see you bear to this Art which I profess, I am emboldened to offer to your noble hands, the view of these my labours, in which, how soever my Art may be controlled, yet it shall under the defence of your countenance justify itself both by the grounds of experience and reason, and though my obscurity live unaccompained with popular opinion, yet yet when I shall be tried, I hope I shall prove unsopbisticat, and the rather sith my nature hath ever loathed to be adorned with false fires; yet that I am the meanest of many I know, & myself am unto myself a testimony, and that I desire no greater height mine Inambiton hath proved, only your honours good opinion shall be the aim of my longings, and that gained, I shall die your honours humbly devoted. Gervase Markham. To all the lovers of running Horses. I Have not found any particular sport or mastery whatsoever, of more antiquity or honourable estimation, than the use of running horses; so that if in our actions we are to take imitation from the Ancients, then without question there is no man able to stand up against this pleasure, being both most old, and most royally defended by the authority of many Emperors. But lest my supposition, should draw on a question uncreated, I will forbear to defend what none will impugn, and only say, if I have to the Art given as good rules as all men will give allowance to the sport, there is no doubt but I shall reap thanks in great measure. Well what I have done, let experience judge, and where I have made any escape after a due trial let me receive the rigour of a humane charity; so though I smart, yet I shall not be confounded, but live either to recant or make satisfaction. Farewell. G. M. CAVELARICE. The sixth Book. CHAP. 1. Of the running Horse in general, and of their choice. IF the ancientest virtue be most honourable, (as it is a principal maxim amongst our Heralds) then without all question there is nothing more famous in this renowned Art of Horsemanshippe, than the practice and use of running Horses, being as ancient as the Olympian games in the days of Hercules, and so successively detived down to the days of our latest Emperors in all which we may read of the great glories of the Horses and the infinite rewards and high places of preferment bestowed upon their Riders, in which we may behold both the fame of the exercise by the princely foundation, and the necessity and virtue, by the delight of such imperial majesties. And truly in these our latter days, wherein we study to control the monuments of our forefathers, this almost obscured art hath found out such princely and virtuous maintainers, that being but only cherrisht in the coldest climate of this Region, it is now famously nourished over all the Kingdom, to the eternal honour of their famous names, and to the exalt of the most serviceable beast that ever was created: Wherefore (to speak generally of running Horses) albe amongst old writers (whose readings were much better than their ridings) they have given the greatest pre-eminence to the Portugals or Spanish jenets, and chiefly to those which are bred by the river Tagus, or near unto Lisbon, comparing them to the winds, and such like impossible motions, yet we by our experience in these latter times, and out of our industrious labours find, that the Turks are much swifter Horses, and the Barbaries much swifter than the Turks, and some English Horses and Geldings swifter than either jennet, Turk, or Barbary, witness grey Dallavell, being the Horse upon which the Earl of Northumberland road in the last rebellion of the North: witness grey Valentine, which died a Horse never conquered; the black Hobby of master Thomas Carleton's, and at this hour most famous Puppey against whom men may talk, but they cannot conquer. Now therefore if your delight sway you to the exercise of this sport, you shall be very careful in choosing a Horse fit for your purpose, wherein the chiefest thing to be regarded is his spirit and shape: for his spirit it would be free and active inclined to cheerfulness, lightness, and forwardness to labour, scope or gallop; for a Horse of dull, idle, and heavy nature, can never either be swift or nimble: the lumpishness of his mind taking away the action and agility of his members. Now for his shape it would be of the finest, for seldom (in horses) do natural deformed shapes harbour any extraordinary virtue, yet for more particularity, I would have him to hold most of the shapes of your hunting Horse, only some sleight errors, you may bear withal in a running horse, as thus: If your running Horse be somewhat long and loosely made, that is to say somewhat long filletted between the huckell bones, and the short ribs; if he have slender limbs, long joints, a thin neck, and a little belly; being in all his general parts, not so strong and closely knit together, as the hunting Horse should be, (though I would wish such vices away) yet I have seen Horses which have had some part of them which have been of great speed in short courses. Now you shall know, that for as much as the hunting Horse, and the running Horse are for two several ends, that is to say, the first for long and weary toil by strength and continuance of labour, struggling and working out his perfection: the other by sudden violence, and present fury, acting the uttermost that is expected from them: therefore there must necessarily be some difference in the ordering and dieting of these two creatures: the hunting horse by strength, making his wind endure a whole days labour; the running horse by wind and nimble footemanship, doing as much in a moment as his strength or power is able to second. Now as order and diet in this case is of most especial consequence; so if training and teaching be not joined to diet and keeping, all your labour will be vain and to no purpose employed: wherefore having a Horse of right shape, beauty, spirit, and other lineaments agreeable to your mind for this exercise, and that he is of full age and growth, which should be five years old at the least; than you shall train him to the pleasure of running, in such sort as shall be declared in this Chapter following. CHAP. 2. How running horses shall be first trained up, and of their diet. AFter you have either taken your Horse (which you intent for running) fat from grass, or bought him fat and fair in the market, you shall dress, order and diet him in such sort as is formerly prescribed in the Book of the keeper's Office for the three first days till his grass be scoured forth, then after you shall dress and diet him in such sort as is prescribed in the first fortnights dieting of hunting Horses, only your exercise shall differ thus much, that for a fortnight together after his water Morning and Evening, you shall gallop him gently upon the hand for a quarter of an hour together upon some plain level meadow or such like geeene swarth ground, till you have made him cunning in his gallop, and that he knows how to take up his feet, how to set them down nimbly and skilfully, and withal, how and when to favour himself, by making his stroke round and short, & how & when to increase his speed by striking forth his limbs, and laying his body near to the earth: only you must observe that in all this exercise you do not make him sweat or put him to any force, as well for fear of his wind as for other inconveniences, but that out of ease, wantonness and pleasure, he may both attain to delight and knowledge, and that also by the moderation of such temperate exercise, he may have his glut and pursivenes cleansed away, his fat and good flesh better hardened, his wind made more pure, & all his inward faculties better disposed. After you have spent this fortnight in this sort, you shall then put him into the same diet, and both order and keep him in such sort as you did keep your hunting horse in the third fortnight, both with the same bread, the same scourings, and the same observations of times and hours, only your exercise shall thus far differ, that you shall for a fortnight together at least, fourtimes a week ride him forth on hunting, but by no means, howsoever the Chases run, you shall not thrust him upon any deep or overthwart earth, but when the scents come upon smooth and plain ground; than you shall thrust him forth into a good ordinary speed, and follow the Hounds cheerfully yet not with that violence, that either you strain him beyond his own pleasure, or compel him to do any thing upon compulsion, but that whatsoever he doth may be done out of his own desire, you rather restraining & keeping him within his strength, then covetting to try the utmost of his power, by which means you shall add such life to his doings, that when necessity shall compel, he will perform more than you can except or hope for; After you have brought him home at night, you shall feed and scour as in case of ordinary hunting; and in this manner of training, and with this gentle exercise, you shall bring him to a good state of body, & to be able to endure some reasonable extremity, which you may know by the cleanness of his neither chaps, the thinness of his rib, and the emptiness of his flank, yet for as much as many horses when they are very clean will not withstanding have a full flank, I wish you rather to trust to his Chaule and rib then to the sign of his flank; Now when your horse is thus brought to some cleanness, if then you would know the height of his ordinary speed, you shall then feed him with the best hunting bread; and having found out some plaive smooth course of about three or four mile in length, and every other day you shall course him thereupon for the space of a fortnight, yet by no means straining him above a three quarters speed, only to make him acquainted with the race, and that he may come to the knowledge of his labour, and so may prepare himself thereunto by emptying his belly, and pissing often, as you shall see in a short space he will quickly learn, and the rather if as you lead him over the race you suffer him to stand still when he pleaseth, to lie down and tumble; to dung, piss, or use any other gesture, whatsoever the Horse pleases, not compelling him to lead, but according to his own liking: and if you find that he will not empty his belly, you shall lead lead him where other Horses have dunged, and stand still, and let him smell thereunto, the sent whereof will presently entice him to dung also, and if he piss seldom, you shall stand still the oftener, and make him stretch out his legs, you shall whistle him as he stands, or throw a little straw under his belly, all which if it prevail not, you shall yourself piss under his belly, and it will entice him to piss, you shall use as he goes 〈◊〉 spirit Vinegar into his Nostrils, for it will both strengthen his stomach, and provoke him to piss. When you come to the race end where you must start, you shall unloose his sur-single, and putting back his clothes, set on his Saddle, and then mounting upon his back, cause the Groom to stroke off his clothes and to ride away with them, that you may have them to put on again when you have run the race over. Then you shall start your horse into a reasonable speed, and according to his wind and strength, so you shall make him run the course, either swifter, or slower; once in the course at least making him run for twelvescore or there about, at the best of his speed, but immediately you shall take up your bridle again and favour him, that preserving him within his strength, you may make both his wind and strength the better. After that by this manner of training you find that he will run his course with a good ordinary speed, and that for the twelvescore which is all the space you strain him in, you feel he runs both swiftly and strongly, you shall then each day you course him, by little and little seek to augment his violence by drawing twelvescore to twentyescore, and twenty to forty, till in the end you find he will run a mile with his best speed; than you shall bring that mile to two mile, and two mile to three, till in the end he will run the whole course, at the height of one entire speed; After that, you shall once in a fortnight make use of your spurs, and make him run the whole course through upon the spurs, drawing blood sound upon both his fides, and then if you feel that in his course he doth not faint, but maintains his speed wit a good courage, than you may presume he is a horse of great virtue and worthy estimation. Now you shall observe, that at the end of every course after you have with gentle galloping up and down a little cooled him, you shall light from his back, and stop both his Nostrils with your hand for a little space, making him hold his wind: than you shall throw his clothes upon him, and making them handsomely fast about him, you shall ride him up and down till all his sweat be dried up, then ride him home, and set him upon good store of litter in the stable, dieting, scouring, feeding, and dressing him as you are taught in the last fortnight for hunting horses, for all the while you train a running horses, you shall not exceed an ordinary hunting diet, your uttermost aim being but to make him inwardly clean, and to bring him to a perfect stroke, and a quick deliverance of his feet, and that whatsoever he doth, he may do with great courage and livelihood. And thus much for the running horses first order of training. CHAP. 3. Of the making of a Match, and the observations therein. WHen you have after a month or two trained your horse, & brought him to some good perfection in running, if then you please either to put him to any Bell-course, or to match him against some other horse for any great wager, you shall carefully observe many advantages and circumstances which are needful in that business, as first the nature & property of your horse, as whether he be of a fierce and courageous spirit doing allthings out of violence of his nature, or whether he be of cooler temper yet exceeding durable, for unto the first the playnet and shorter course is the best, and to the latter the longer & the deeper is most advantage, yet if the fierce horse have in his skelping course, either upwithes, inwithes, or downewithes, which is, that he may either run within the side of hills, up hills, or down hills, it is much availing to his wind, and makes him recover his breath & strength much better; for this we many times find by proof, that a fierce horse running upon a plain level, if his rider start him suddenly, or hold his hankes too strait, the Horse out of his fury will choke himself in his own wind; others I have known, that having liberty of hand, have run themselves blind, both which the climbing or descending of hills doth prevent, for nature and the toil makes him ease himself up the hill: and down the hill, his own danger makes him take leisure; but if your horse be of cool temper, & starts slowly, yet in his whole course throughout, rather augments and increaseth his speed then either abates or diminisheth, such a horse is meet for a long and deep course where not nimble footemanshippe, but truth of wind and bloodynes of sides only must win the wager, for where speed and spirit fails, there truth and toughness are the only conquerors: you shall also in his training note what kind of earth he takes most delight to run upon, as if he love a hard smooth green swarthe, a beaten highway, a rotten groundful of letches, or an overthwart broken swarth full of foul treading, & according to his best running so to frame your wager. You shall also note in what state of body your horse runs best, as some Horses will run best when they are fat and full of flesh & pride, some when they are exceeding poor and most unlikely; some when they are of an indifferent state of body, neither too high nor to low; but of a competent fullness, and according as you find him nearest to his best perfection so you may be the boulder to hazard your wager; for if your horse that runs high, be low; you must then feed hard, and exercise little, till having gotten him into his true temper, and then you may adventure him upon labour; or if your horse that runs low be fat and high, than you must neither spare exercise nor airing, till you have brought him to that state of body which best fits him. Lastly you shall observe to make no match, but you shall reserve at least six weeks for the dieting of your horses because it is a general rule amongst all Horses, that the first fortnight they are brought ●ostrict dieting, they will fall away and grow a little sickish, so that necessarily you had need to have a month after to bring him to lust, life and delight, in his manner of dieting. And thus much for present observations in match making. CHAP. 4. Of the several kinds of air, and foods belonging to a running Horse. OF all the particles or best members belonging to this dieting or ordering of running Horses, there is none of more force or efficacy then this which we call airing, for it hath a divers kind of workings, as one while it abateth flesh, weakeneth and brings low, another while it feeds, strengthens, and procures appetite; sometimes it cheers the blood, and sometimes it appeals the spirit, working according as it is ordered, yet at all times and how ever it is used, it purifies breath, and is the best fortifier of the wind; wherefore you shall understand, that if your horse be too fat, and either for fear of old strains, or the short time you have to diet him you cannot by exercise make abatement of his flesh, than you shall not fail but evening and morning (at least two hours before day) to air him after this ●er. Assoon as you come into the stable, and have put away his dung, and made all things sweet and clean, you shall then take a hair cloth and rub his head, face, and neck all over, than you shall turn up all his clothes and rub down his body, belly, flanks, buttocks & legs, then take his bridle and wet the snaffle either in Bear or Ale, and put it on his head, then truss his clothes warm and close about him, and so lead him forth in your hand up to the top or height of some hill where the wind blows sharpest and the air is purest; and both as you go to the hill and when you are upon the hill, let the horse go at his own pleasure, standing still and gazing when he list, stretching himself forth, gaping, yawning, tumbling, and using what other gesture he pleases; yourself ever helping and cherishing him in whatsoever he doth; bseruing principally to give him the liberty of his bridle, and to entice him to smell to the ground, and to the dung of other horses as you go up & down, and you shall purposely seek out where other horses have dunged, and lead him unto it, that he may smell thereon, for it will mightily provoke him to empty his belly, you shall if there be any tussocks of long grass, rushes, or dead fog, lead him thereunto, both that he may bathe his legs in the dew (which is very wholesome for his limbs) & also provoke him to piss. After you have thus led him up and down for the space of two hours and more, even till you see the day begin to break, than you shall lead him home to the stable in the self same sort as you led him forth, but by the way, if whilst you thus air your horse, you do now and then spirte a little Vinegar into his nostrils, or sometime stop his nostrils with your hands, it is passing good, for it will both make him sneare and neese, and also it will procure him a stomach, and make him hungry: if as you walk up and down you do now & then with your hand gripe him gently about the wind pipe, between his chaules and compel him to cough, it will be exceeding good, and you shall thereby find if there be any grossness about the roots of his tongue, which stops or hinders his wind, as thus: If he cough roughly it is a sign of grossness: if he cough roughly, and after his coughing chaw with his chaps, it is then both a sign of grossness, and that he hath some dissolved and loose matter which he breaks with coughing, which if you find, you shall then use to gripe him the oftener, but if he cough clear, and without hoarnes, than he is clean and you shall gripe him the more seldom. After you have brought your Horse into the stable, & have chafed and rubbed his legs well, you shall then feed and order him, as shall be hereafter declared; Now look how you aired your horse in the morning before day; in the self same manner you shall also air him at night after the day is departed, only instead of leading him unto the height of some hill, you shall lead him down to some valley or meadow near to some river or running water, that the coldness which comes from thence, may enter and pierce him; if at any time whilst you air your horse, you find him wanton disposed, you shall run with him up and down, and make him scope and play about you. This airing before and after day, doth abate a horses flesh, dries up pursiveness and gross humours, clears the blood, and makes his vital spirits more active. Now if your horse be exceeding lean, weak, and in poverty, than you shall air him in the morning an hour or more after sunrise in the same sort as you did before, and also at night an hour or two before Sunset, the pleasantness of which two seasons will provoke such delight in the horse, that he will take pride in himself; it will get him such a stomach, that you shall hardly overfeede him; & store of food brings ever store of flesh and strength, it will make him that he shall not take loath unto his food, which is the only impediment that attends a running horse, but the sorer you feed, the better shallbe ever his digestion; and nature being pleased with what she receives, will soon again become strong and powerful. But if your horse be of a right state of body, that is, neither too fat nor too lean, but of a full strength and perfection, such as you know is fittest for the exercise, whereunto you intent him, than you shall air him every morning after day, and before Sun rise, and every evening after Sunne-sett, and before the closing in of the night, for these indifferent and temperate times, do neither take so sore of nature, that they bring it to any weakness, neither add so much to strength or appetite, that they bring the flesh to any greater lust or increasment, but holding one certain stay, keep the body strong, the wind pure, and the inward spirits full of life and cheerfulness; therefore every keeper of running Horses must know that by no means whilst his Horse is in strict diet, he may not fail to air his Horse morning and evening, after one of these th● several ways, according to the state and constitution of the Horse's body, excepting only those days wherein his Horse takes his breathing courses, being assured that he were better to forget a meal of the Horse's food, than an hour of his ayringes: and since I have thus showed you, the diversity of air, I will now proceed and show you the diversity and natures of every several food, meet for a Horse's body. First therefore you shall understand that the principal food, whereupon a running horse is to be fed most; as the very strength and chief substance of his life must be bread, for it is of all other foods most strong, clean, healthful, of best digestion, and breeds the best blood, wherefore for bread, you shall make it after this manner. Take of fine Oatemell well dried, four peck, Diet bread: of clean dried beans two pecks; of the best wheat two pecks & of Rye two pecks, let all these grains be well mingled together, & ground (if possible) upon a pair of black stones, them boult the meal through a fine bolting cloth, and knead it with new Ale, and the Barm well beaten together, & with the whites of at least an hundred eggs. Now if your horse, as for the most part running Horses are, be subject to dryness and costiveness in his body, then to these former quantities, you shall add at least three pound of sweet butter, but not otherwise: these you shall knead & work together exceedingly, first with hands, after with feet by treading, and lastly with the brake; then covering it close with warm clothes, you shall let it lie two or three hours in the trough to swell, then take it fourth and mould it up in great loaves at least half a peck in a loaf, and so bake it like unto ordinary Household bread: Some Horsemen there be, which of my knowledge to this bread will mix the powder of L●oras or Annyseeds in great quantity, but as once I said, so say I still, it is the most unwholsomest that can be, and most unnatural, nor have I seen any horse win, but I have seen many Horses lose, which have been kept with such dyett. The nature of this bread is only to breed strength, lust, and good blood, without pursivenes, grossness or corrupting of the wind: it is light and easy of digestion, and so not lying long either in the Horse's stomach or belly is no impediment to the violence and fury of his labour. Next unto bread is dried washt-meat, as thus, take two pecks of the best Oats, & spreading them upon a cloth Of washed meat dried. in the Sun turn them up and down till they be as dry as if they had been dried upon a K●lne, then put them in a clean bag, and either beat them with a fleale, or upon a hard floor as housewives beat Wheat, till the upper hulls be almost beaten off, then winnow them clean, and putting them into some clean vessel, break unto them the whites of twenty or forty eggs, & wash the Oats, and stir them well up & down therein, then let them stand and soak all that night. The next morning take forth the Oats, and spread them in the Sun upon a clean cloth till they be dry again. This food of all other is most fine light and easy of digestion, 'tis most sovereign for the wind, disoluing & cleansing away whatsoever is gross, or stops the entrance of those pipes. The meetest time to give this food in, is either immediately before, or immediately after his labour, & the horse most meet for this food is the gross feeder, the kettie or thick wound. Next to this food is the Oats dried in the Sun, and beaten as aforesaid, and then to be steeped for a day and a night in strong Ale, and then dried in the Sun. This food is exceeding comfortable, and moves life, spirit, and cheerfulness in a horse, it helps the wind something, but not much, and is most meet to be given a Horse that is lean, or of a dainty and tender stomach. Now your last dried washt-meate is to take a couple of fine manchets well chipped, and to cut them cross wise into four round toasts, & so toast them before the fire, then steep them for half an hour in muscadine, then taking them forth, lay them in warm clothes before the fire, and smother them till they be dry again, and so give them to your horse. This food is a lusty and strong food cheering the blood & the vital spirits of a horse; it quickens the brain, makes the mind wanton and active, and so fills all the powers of a horse with alacrity and spirit, that if he be never so empty, yet he takes no dislike in his fasting: it kills also the worms in a horse's body, and makes that they do not torment and gnaw him, when he is much fasting, yet this food is not to be given often, for fear of intoxicating the brain through the fume thereof; but early in the morning before your horse go to course, if he have been sick, or is poor in flesh, or much subject to take dislike or loathe at his provender. Next to these dried washed meats, are your moist Of moist washed 〈◊〉. washed meats, which are no other but these before named, as Oats, and whites of Eggs, Oats and Ale, or Toasts and Muscadine, so that they be given to a horse presently after they have been steeped, and are as wet as wet may be. This food is very hearty, cool and much loosening the body, having only this particular fault, that it a little breedeth pursinesse, and grossness: wherefore it is to be given to a horse that is either weak, sickly, or subject to dry much in his body, it must be used for the most part medicinally, for, to make it a continual food, the very fume thereof would bring putrefaction to the brain, and the moistness cause an unnatural scouring in his body. Besides these foods, there is the ears of Pollard wheat to be given by two or three handful together out of your hand, for it prepareth and comforteth the stomach, and is to be given to a horse as the first thing he eateth after he hath been coursed or warmed with any extraordinary labour. Now as touching Rye, Mashes and such like, because they are in the nature of scourings, I will not couple them amongst the horses foods, having spoken sufficiently of them and their natures in the book of hunting horses, to which I refer you. And thus much for the diversity of air, and the alterations foods. CHAP. 5. Of the several kinds of sweats, and of their uses. Sweats are to be given to a horse two several ways, that is to say, either naked or clothed: naked, as either by exercise, or labour; or clothed, as by physical helps without much torment. And because the labour of the running Horse is violent and sudden, without any endurance or deliberation in his exercise, insomuch that a Horse being in any good state of body cannot sweat much, or dissolve any part of his inward gross humours by so short an exercise; it is therefore agreed upon by all good Horsemen, that aswell for preserving the running horse from weariness in labour, as also for bringing him to the best estate of a clean body, that he shall have his sweats given him for the most part in his clothes, especially when he is so clean that he will not sweat suddenly. Now you shall understand, that sweats in clothes are to be given two several ways, that is to say, either abroad in the field, or else standing still in the close Stable. If you give your Horse his sweat abroad in the field, you shall do it after this sort: early in the morning after you have rubbed him down with your haircloth, and girded his clothes close round about him, you shall put on his bridle, and lead him forth into some fair large Close or field, and there mounting upon his back with his clothes about him, you shall gallop him at a reasonable speed up and down without ceasing, till you find all his head, neck and face, to be of an entire sweat: than you shall ride him to the Stable door, and there lighting from his back, set him up in Litter even to the mid side; then tie him up to the Rack, and cast a cloth or two more over him, covering his head and neck all over also, and so let him stand and sweat for an hour or more, if you know him to be very fat, and foul. After he hath sweat sufficiently, you shall then take off his clothes one after another, and another, till by little and little abating his heat, you make him leave sweeting; than you shall rub him, and feed him as shall be hereafter declared. Now if your Horse have either former strains, or be aged, or in any such state of body, that you may not well adventure to put him to any violent labour, or if the weather be so unseasonable that you cannot conveniently give his sweats without in the field; you shall then give him his sweat in the Stable after this manner: first you shall strip your Horse naked, then take a large Blankett, and warm it against the fire, and then fold it in many folds, heating every fold hotter than other, and then being at the hottest, you shall wrap it round about your Horse's body next unto his heart, pinning it very close and straight; then lay over it two or three other Blankets at their uttermost largeness, and two or three Coverlettes also, gird them hard about his body with a sur-single, and bind every one of them close and fast before his breast, then stop the sur-single round about with great wisps of straw, and let him stand in Litter up to the mid side, then keeping your Stable as close and warm from all air as is possible, let him stand for a quarter of an hour, and you shall see the sweat begin to rise about his ear roots, and trickle down his face, which if it do, you shall then let him stand still, and sweat so long as in your own discretion you shall think meet (so it exceed not above two hours at the most) but if he be of so hard a constitution, that this course will not make him sweat at all, than you shall lay more clothes upon him; and if they prevail not, then (being clad in the manner aforesaid) you shall take him forth of the Stable into some adjoining backside, and there trot him, and chase him gently up and down, till you see his sweat begin to rise, than set him up in the Stable again, and laying more clothes upon him, let him sweat during your pleasure, and all the while he sweateth, you shall make a Groom to stand by him, and to wipe the sweat from his face with a dry cloth, which will please the horse exceedingly. When he hath sweat to your contentment, you shall then by the abatement of his clothes one after one, keeping a pretty distance of time between each several clothes taking away (lest cooling him too suddanly might do him more hurt then his sweeting doth him good) bring him to that dryness and temper of body, wherrin you▪ found him before you gave him his sweat, which when you have brought to pass, you shall then unclothe and dress him in such sort as becometh the office of a good keeper. These sweats are the most wholesomest & best scourings that can be given to a fat horse, for they do dissolve & expel all gross & infectious humours, how ever bred in the body either by surfeit or rawness of food, by violence of travel, by sudden colds, excessive heats, or by any other unnatural course whatsoever; it purifies the blood, clears the wind and brings spirit and lightness to the body, only they do much abate the flesh, and therefore a little weaken the horse, by which means they are held principally good for fat and gross horses; and seldom to be used upon lean horses, yet for mine own part, it both hath been, and shall ever be my practice to use them both to fat and lean horses, where I find either by outward or inward sign, that the body hath been unwholsomly fed, and is possessed with gross and corrupt humours: yet you must know that one of these sweats doth take as much of a horse as three courses, wherefore you must have this consideration, that if your horse be not in great pride and full state of body, after one of these sweats, you must not course or strain your horse for at least five days. And thus much for sweats and their several uses. CHAP. 6. Of the ordering and dieting a running Horse for match or wager. WHen you have made any great match o● wager upon your horse, so that you are to put him to the uttermost, that either art or nature can bring him unto; it is to be presupposed that your horse being of some especial note (at least in your own estimation) must necessarily be kept in good ordinary hunting diet, for few or none will make any great wagers either of ordinary Hackneys, or grass Nags, wherefore your match being made, and you now intending to put him into this strict diet, only appertaining to a course, you shall first look upon him; and as near as you can, either by his dung, the thickness of his flesh upon his shortest rib, the cleanness of his chaule and other external parts (all which are formerly set down at large) you shall judge in what state of body your horse standeth, and how near, or how far off he is from being in fit temper to run a course, and if you then find that he is in full strength, good lust, & in an indifferent ordinary cleanness, you shall then thus begin first to fashion him unto his diet, first next his skin you shall lay a fair linen sheet, as well because horses naturally delight to be sweet and neatly kept, priding themselves with the daintiness of their keeping, as also because when nature being at any time distempered in the horse, either through the straightness of his diet, or the strangeness of his food, (which ordinarily is found with running horses) he will break forth into great sweats, insomuch, that when you come to him in the morning, you shall oft find him all wet, as if he were troubled with the nightmare, than the linen being next his skin, even as the force of nature or his sickness shall leave their working, so will the linen sheet cool and grow dry again; neither forcing him to sweat (as woollen clothes will do) nor retaining any moisture extraordinarily, as your clothes of course canvas will do; the first being unwholesome for the Horse's health, the other a great annoyance unto his body; over this sheet you shall lay as many clothes of woollen and Canvas, as shall double in weight and warmth those clothes which he usually wore▪ daily, as thus, if ordinarily he did wear a canvas cloth and a blanket, than now you shall lay on a blanket, a thick coverlet & a cloth of canvas, all which you shall bind close and warm before his breast, & then with a surcingle gird them about his body, and stop him round with soft wisps; the reasons for these many clothes being these two, first that they may help nature to expel all gross, foggy & unwholesome humours which are gathered together in a horse's body by inforceing him to sweat in the hours of his rest, which a horse naturally (with small help) will do if he be overburdened with grossness or faintness, & these sweats are most kindly and least painful: the second reason is, that a horse being overloaded, & as it were fettered & bound up in his clothes, when he shall come to be disburdened & stripped naked of such encumbrances, he will be so light, nimble, & deliver in all his actions that like a prisoner discharged of heavy bolts, his feet will be even wings to bear away his body; also when a horse that is so warm and tenderly kept, shall come to have his skin opposed against the sharp air, the very piercing cold thereof will be unto him as good as a pair of spurs to enforce him to make haste in his labour, neither will the natural heat which accompaineth and comforteth the heart, so easily be banished into the outward parts, or bring to the horse any sense of faintness. Next you shall observe, that your stable be close, warmer and dark as may be, and that over and beside the darkness of your Stable, you shall nail some thick Canvas clothes about your Horse also, both for closeness and warmness; both because no cold or subtle air shall suddenly strike into the horse and distemper his body, and also because the Horse shall not distinguish the night from the day, but take his rest equally in them both, without either the trouble of light or noises. This done, you shall ever be careful that your Horse may stand orderly night and day upon great store of litter, at least a foot deep from the plaunchers after your horse hath priest it down with his lying, both because it shall defend him from the cold dampishnes of the earth, which is very unhealthful; and also because he shall not hold his urine in his body longer than the first provocation of nature, which if he have litter under him he will not do, but if he want he will not piss as long as he is able to contain in the contrary; beside, there is nothing wherein a horse takes more delight, then in the softness of his bed, which as soon as he finds, you shall see by his much lying the delight he takes in his lodging: and truly whosoever will expect much toil from a horse in the field, must not abridge him of any ease in the stable, and chiefly if he be a horse of free and pure metal. Next unto these observations, you shall look hourly to the keeping of your manger clean, both from dust, filth, or any uncleanness whatsoever; and if there be any walls of earth, mud, or loam, or any thatch or such like filthiness near him, you shall nail canvas clothes before them, so that by no means your horse may come to lick or gnaw upon them. lastly you shall have regard to his rack, and see that it be hourly swept and kept clean, both from dust, cobwebs and such like filchinesse; and as touching the ordinary meat which you shall put into his rack, during all the time of his diet, it shall be nothing but sweet wheate-strawe well thrashed given by a sheaf at once, morning and evening. Now when you have performed all these general observations, you shall then thus proceed to his more particular diet; First in the morning as soon as you come The first diet. into the Stable, which would be to a fat horse long before day, to a horse of good temper before Sun rise, and to a lean horse long after the Sun is risen. As soon as you have put away his dung, and such foul litter as he hath that night filled, and after you have swept and made your stable clean, you shall then thrust your hand under his clothes, and feel his flanks whether he have sweat that night I or no, if you find he have sweat and is not fully dry, you shall then turn up his clothes, and with clean clothes rub him as dry as may be; then if he be a Horse of gross and foul feeding, you shall take a new laid egg, and break it in his mouth, make him swallow it shells and all, then washing his Snaffle in a little Bear, or Bear and Salt, put it in his mouth, and so lead him forth and air him, as hath been set down in a former chapter. After you have brought in your horse from airing, and set him up in the stable, you shall first cause all his legs to be rubbed exceeding much, and his feet to be picked clean from dirt, gravel & other filthiness; than you shall take off his bridle, put on his collar, and give him the value of half a peck of Oats washed in the whites of Eggs and dried if he be a horse of good stomach and appetite; but if he be a horse tender and dainty, than you shall not give him so much at once; but give him less and often, wherefore as touching the quantities of meat which you shall give, your own discretion agreeing with the appetite and stomach of the horse, must make them more or less at your pleasure. After your horse hath eaten his meal, which you shall stand by and see him do, you shall then after you have made your stable clean again, shut up your stable door and windows, and so let your horse rest till twelve a clock in the after noon; at which time coming into the stable, and having put away his dung, and made all things sweet & clean about the horse you shall then put on his bridle, and tie him up to the rack, and then dress, curry, and trim him in such sort as is before described in the office of the keeper; after you have dressed your horse, & clothed him up warm, having an especial care that your horse by no means stand still naked, but that the groom be ever doing something about him (for so long he will never take cold) you shall then lead him forth to the water, either to some fair fonntaine, or some running spring, or some such water as you shall think to be most agreeable with your horse's body▪ of all which waters, I have in the former book of the office of the keeper, written sufficiently, & therefore in this place think it needless again to repeat them. After your horse hath drunk his fill, you shall then lead him into the stable again, & having chafed & rubbed his legs well, you shall then give him the value of half a peck of your best diet bread cut in small pieces, which as soon as you have seen him eat, you shall then shut up your stable door, & let him rest till five of the clock in the evening. Now you are from these first rules to gather these general principles, that first your horse shall drink during his time of diet but once in 24. hours, which is ever betwixt twelve and one a clock at noon when the Sun is at the highest: next that he is to be dressed but once in 24. hours, which is at twelve a clock at noon also; than you shall ever see him eat his meat, & when you give him any bread, you shall chip your loaves well, and keep the rules formerly prescribed for hunting horses, that is to say, if your horse either be a gross feeding horse and hold his meat long in his belly, or if at any time either upon the occasion of his course, the giving of medicine, or any other necessity, you would have his meat soon digested, you shall then give him no crust at all, but all crumb, for that soon passeth thorough him: but if your horse be of dainty or tender nature, subject to quick digestion; or if by reason of rest, or to comfort former toil taken, you would have him to retain & hold his meat long, than you shall give him more crust than crumb, or else crust & crumb equally mixed together, your loaves being only slightly chipped & but the upper part taken away only. Lastly, you shall ever observe when you dress your horse, to anoint all his four legs from the knees & cambrels downward with linseed oil, & ever when he comes from his course, or from any exercise to bathe them with piss & Saltpetre boiled together. At five of the clock in the evening, you shall come unto him, & first making your stable clean, and putting away his dung, you shall turn up his cloth, & with a haircloth rub his face, head, neck, buttocks, flanks, and belly, then with hard wisps chafe his legs; which done, you shall give him the like quantity of bread as you did at noon, and so let him rest till the hour of his evening airing; for you must understand, that as duly as a horse must be fed or dressed, so he must be aired at his fit hours morning and evening. After you have brought your horse from airing, and have chafed & rubbed his legs well, you may give him a handful of bread or thereabouts, & no more, & so let him rest till 9 a clock at night, at what time you shall come unto him, & having rubbed his body over with your haircloath, and his legs with hard wisps, you shall then give him the ordinary quantity of bread, toss up his litter, make his bed soft, and so let him rest till the next morning; and as you spent this day, so you shall spend all other days of your horse's rest, only with this caution, that if as you feed your horse, you find him at any time grow coy or refuse the food you give him, than you shall alter his food, and in stead of bread give Oats; & in stead of dry Oats, wet Oats, and when he is weary of wet oats to give him dry Oats again; yet to make your main food indeed to be only bread, and to use the other foods but only to make his appetite better to his bread. If any man shall either think, or in his experience find, that these quantities which I prescribe are too great, he may at his discretion abridge them: for in my judgement when I consider the want of hay, the sharpness of his air, and compare his hours of fasting with his hours of feeding, I do not find any quantity that can be a better precedent. After you have thus kept your horse, as is before showed, The first coursing. for the space of two days, you shall the third day in stead of airing him, lead him in his clothes to the place appointed for his course, for it is to be intended, that you must ever either through right, love, or money, have your stable as near to the staff where your race must end as conveniently you can get it, as in the next neighbouring village, or such like place of conveniency, that your horse coming to know that he ever runneth homeward, he will with more willingness and spirit, bestir himself in his labour. Assoon as you have brought your horse to the staff, you shall let him smell thereto, and if he will, you shall let him rub himself thereon, or use any other motion what he pleaseth; than you shall lead him forward, with all leisure and gentleness, standing many times still, both to provoke him to dung, and piss, and if he will lie down and tumble, which horsemen call Freaning, you shall not only give him leave, but also with the bridle reins help him to wallow over and over: but if as you lead him he refuse either to dung or piss, then being come to the place of start, you shall unloose his surcingle, and break the wisps open under his belly, for many horses will refuse to piss for fear of sprinkling upon his legs, which few dainty horses will endure; so that when he perceivesthe wisps to be under him, he will piss instantly, & to that end if he do not offer at the first, you shall lead him over them twice or thrice. When he hath pissed, you shall take some of the dryest wisps and chafe all his legs; than you shall unbind his clothes from before his breast, & putting them back, set on your saddle, which done, you shall yourself piss in your Horse's mouth, which will be an occasion that he will work & run with pleasure, than you shall take away all his clothes, and deliver them to the groom, who may ride towards the staff with them: then after you shall start your horse & at more than three quarters speed, run him over the course: & assoon as you are passed the staff, you shall take him up and stay him: then troth him gently back to the staff, & let him smell upon it again, that by custom he may come to take an especial notice of the place; & know that there is the end of his labour: than you shall gallop and scope him gently up and down to keep him warm, until his clothes come; then lighting from his back, & clothing him, you shall ride him up and down till he be sufficiently cooled, and then ride him home, and set him up in the stable close and warm, casting another cloth over him; than having rubbed his legs sufficiently let him stand, being tied by his bridle up to the rack, for at least two or three hours or more, & then come to him, & if you find that his sweat is all dried up, you shall take off the spare cloth, and having stopped his surcingle about with soft wisps, you shall give him forth of your hands a handful or two of the ears of Pollarde wheat, & so let him stand till one of the clock at noon, at what time you shall bring unto him a very sweet Mash, and give it him to drink. After he hath drunk his mash, you shall give him two or three handfuls of oats washed in muscadine, & dried; & mingled with them a handful or two of clean dressed hempseed. After he hath eaten them, you shall then unclothe him, and curry and dress him, as hath been formerly described, than clothing him up warm again, let him stand till five of the clock at evening, at what time you shall give him a good quantity of bread, which assoon as he hath eaten, you shall bridle him up and lead him forth to air him, of what state of body soever he be, both because having in the morning endured great toil in his course, it is requisite he should have comfort in his airing, and also that you may have great respect to his dung, observing both the temper, the colour and the slyminesse, and whether there come from him any grease or no, which if he do avoid, it is an apparent sign of his foulness, if he do not, it is a good token of his cleanness. After his airing, you shall set him up, chafe his legs, and give him a handful of bread, letting him stand till nine of the clock at night, at what time (as you did in former nights) so you shall now give him a good quantity of bread, rub his head, face, neck, hody and buttocks with a hair cloth, stir up his litter and so let him rest till the next morning, observing according to the expense of these three days, so to spend the first fortnight, coursing your horse every third day, both that you may bring him to an acquaintance with his race, & also that you may come to the better judgement of the state of his body, for if in this first fortnight you find your horse to dry inwardly, and grow costive, which is the natural fault of running horses, than you shall use moist washed meat the oftener, put more butter into your bread, & in time of necessity, give him a handful or two of rye sodden, but if you find him naturally given to looseness, which is seldom found in this dieting, than you shall put no butter at all into your bread, you shall feed him with washed meat well dried, and give him wheat ears both before and after his air, you shall chip his bread little or nothing at all, & let it be baked somewhat the sorer. Now after this first fortnight's keeping, if you find your horse a little cleaner than he was, & that he is strong & in good lust, then both for your air, dress, dietings, waterings, and other observations, you shall in all things do as you did in the first fortnight, only with this difference, that in your coursing, you shall not be so violent, or draw him up to so high a speed as formerly you did, but play with him, and as it were no more but gallop him over the race, that thereby he may take pride & delight in his labour, only once in each week, that is, in the middle of each week, being at least five days betwixt one and the other, if your horse be young, strong, and lusty, you shall give him a sweat in his clothes, either upon the race which you must run, or else upon some other ground fit for the purpose; but if your horse be old, stiff, ortainted, than you shall give him the sweats in his clothes within the Stable, the manner of each sweat is in a former chapter described, and these sweats you shall give very early in the morning, as an hour before sun rise; that he may be cooled, have his mash given him, and be curried and dressed soon after eleven a clock in the forenoon, the day following the latter of these two sweats, you shall early in the morning before you go forth to air him, give him the scouring of muscadine, salad-oil and Sugar-Candie, as is mentioned in the book of hunting, and then lead him forth & air him, but in any case keep him not forth above half an hour at the most, but bring him home, set him up warm, tie him so that he may lie down, lay him an handful or two of Oats before him, and so let him rest till twelve or one a clock in the afternoon, at what time you shall water him, dress him, and feed him as you did in the former days of his resting. After this sweat thus given, you shall every third day for exercise sake, gallop your horse as gently over the race as may be, only to keep his legs nimble, and his breath pure, till the fourth day before the day of your wager, upon which day you shall give your. Horse a sound (and as my Countrymen of the North term it) a bloody course over the race, then after he is cold & brought home, as soon as you have chafed his legs well, you shall take a mussel made of Canvas or Leather, but Canvas is the better, of which mussel I have spoken more particularly in the book of hunting. This mussel you shall put upon your horse's head, & fasten it between his ears; yet before you put it on, you shall throw into it the powder of Annyseedes well beaten in a mortar, which is all the spice you shall use about your horse, and every time you take off or put on the Mussel, you shall put more powder in. This powder of annyseede is for the horse to smell upon, because it openeth the windpipe, and sometimes to lick upon because it comforteth the stomach, and strengtheneth a horse in his fasting, you shall also have divers mussels, that when your horse with his breath and such like moist vapours hath wet one, & made it noisome, you may then put on another which is dry, and so keep him sweet and cleanly, washing his foul Mussel, and drying it before the fire, that it may serve at another season. After you have musseld up your horse that he can eat nothing but what you give him, you shall let him rest for an hour or two, and take away the wheate-straw from his rack, not suffering him to have any more rack meat till the wager be past. After he hath stood two hours, you shall come to him and give him two or three handful of wheat ears, and after them a sweet mash, than mussel him up again, and let him stand till it be betwixt twelve and one a clock in the after noon, at what time you shall first take off his cloth and curry & dress him very sufficiently, then having clothed him up warm again, you shall take off his Mussel, and give him out of your hand bit by bit, to the value of a penny white loaf of your diet bread, than you shall give him in a clean dish, the value of a quart of water, then you shall give him as much more bread, then offer him as much more water, and thus giving him one while bread, another while water, give him a good meal, according to the constitution of his body, and the strength of his appetite; then put on his Mussel, and so let him stand till betwixt five and six of the clock in the evening, at what time you shall take your horse forth to air him, and after he is aired, you shall bring him home, and having chafed his legs, you shall take a clean bowl or trey of wood (for you must understand after your horse is put into the mussel, you shall suffer him no more to eat in the manger) and into that bowl or trey, you shall put a good handful of Oats washed in the whites of eggs & dried, which if you perceive he eats very greedily, you shall then give him another handful, and so a third, then in a dish you shall offer him a quart of water, than another handful of Oats, and another quart of water, and thus you shall give one after another, till you have given him a good meal likewise, then put on his Mussel, and let him stand till betwixt nine and ten a clock at night, at what time you shall come to him, and as you fed him at noon with bread and water, so shall you now feed him with bread and water likewise, then putting on his muzell, rubbing him, and raising up his litter, let him stand till the next morning. The next day is a day ofrest, so that after you have aired him in the morning, you shall then only feed him as you did the day before, only you must understand, that these three days before your race day, you shall in your air be longer abroad then usually you were wont to be, both that you may keep him in perfit breath, and suffer no grossness to increase, and also to procure him a good stomach, and a longing appetite. After two of your four days is thus spent in airing and feeding, the third day you shall spend in the same manner also both touching his air and feedings, but the time betwixt his meals, you shall spend in colling his ears, main, chaps, eyebrows, and other parts of his body that are charged with superfluous hairs; you shall wash & scour both his main and tail with soap and water, & then if at the race day you mean to have it frizzled and broidered out bravely to the show, you shall plat them both in as many several small plaits or strings as you can conveniently, & knit every several plat and string in as many knots as you can devise, for the less your plaits are, and the more knots you knit, the bravelyer will your horses main or tail curl, and the gallanter it will appear to the beholders. This day also you shall see that the Smith shoe your horse both easily and sufficiently, according to the nature of the course; that is to say, if the course be upon soft green swarth, totten more, or dirty earth, than you shall shoe him with half shoes, both because they prevent overreaching (which often chances in such grounds) and also gives foothold enough, which is all the necessity in such a course: but if the race be upon hard heaths, high ways, or flinty, or chaukie grounds, than you shall shoe him with whole shoes, neither half so broad, nor half so thick as the hunting shoe. After your horse is thus prepared, the next day following, which is the day before your race day, you shall air, order & feed your horse, as you did in the former days, only you shall give him no water at all. After you have finished watering and feeding him at twelve of the clock in the after noon) till your wager ●e passed, only you shall feed him with what meat he hath most stomach unto, both in the evening, and at nine a clock also, giving him as much quietness and rest as you can devise: upon the race day in the morning before the spring of the day, you shall take forth your horse and air him; then when you have brought him home, you shall give him (after his legs have been well rubbed and anointed with linseed Oil, or Train Oil) as many toasts steeped in muscadine, and dried as he will eat, or if out of the daintiness of his stomach, he take dislike unto them, you shall only give him half a peck of fine clean Oatmeal well dried, then put on his muzzle, and so let him take his rest, till you have warning to prepare him for his course, which as soon as you have, you shall the first thing you do take half a pint of Sack, and having brewed it well with the powder of Anne-seeds and Sugar-candy, give it your horse: then lay his clothes handsomely & in good order about him, stopping the surcingle round about with soft wisps, then if you have an●e covering of silk, or other finer cloth for the show (as for the most part noble men & great persons have) then you shall lay in the uppermost, & hide both the other clothes and the wisps also; than you shall unplat both his main and tail, severing every hair one from another, than you shall wash his Snaffle in a little bear, and put it in his mouth, then with some fine ribbon or lace, you shall tie up his fore top, so that it may not dangle or hinder his sight, and whilst you are doing these things, you shall make other Gums do nothing but rub his legs, thus when you have fitted every thing conveniently, you shall take Vinegar into your mouth and spirit it into your Horse's nostrils, and so lead him towards the race, in such manner and form as was showed you in the horses first course, & after you come at the race end, when you have rubbed his legs, and as much as you can, provoked him to piss and dung, than you shall ungyrde his clothes, set on your saddle, spirit vinegar into his nostrils, & then mount his back, and when the watchword is given, start him & run him according to your art and courage. CHAP. 7. Observations to be used, and inconveniences which happen during the dieting of running Horses. NOw for as much as there be divers general observations, which you shall observe, during the time of dieting your horse, I will as near as I can set them down in such sort, as may be best fitting for your memory, wherefore first you shall observe that once or twice in a week when you give your horse any oats, to give him a little mustard-seed mingled therewith, which will make your horse ne●se, & purge his head of all gross matter. You shall also obseru, that when your horse's dung looks of a paalish yellow colour, & is of an indifferent hardness, both in substance and smell like to the ordure of a man, that then it is best▪ & the horse in strongest temper. You shall observe, that after your horse comes to the strength of feeding, & that his dung smells strongly, that then every time you come into the stable, you burn either juniper, Frankincense, Stomach, or some other perfume, both to take away the evil smell, and to comfort the horse. Also you shall observe, that if your Horse be an exceeding gross feeder, and that he will eat up his litter in great abundance, that then you may put him into his mussel for a fortnight or three weeks before the race day, but if he be a horse of a tender and dainty stomach, so that you shall with great difficulty make him eat any thing at all; in this case, you shall not put him into the Mussel at all▪ above one night before the race day; for the use of the Mussel is only but to keep him from foul and unwholesome feeding, and to prepare and get him a stomach; also you shall observe, that when you give your horse a playing course, that is to say, when you do no more but gallop him over the race ●o leisurely as you can devise, that if then you do it in his clothes, it shall be very good, & more wholesome for the horse, then if you did give him such a course naked, for if he be in good and perfect temper, than that gentle exercise will no more but make him warm in his clothes. Lastly you shall observe, that after your horse is perfectly clean, and in perfect state of body; if then he take a general loath unto his dieting food, and will not by any means touch any part of it, than you shall not spare, if for the recovery of his stomach you give him any food whatsoever for ameale or two, as either hay, grass, forage, hunting bread, pease and bran, or even common horsebread; for the common proverb being, that a little doth but a little hurt. In this case to prevent a greater mischief, you must be content to tun into a great inconvenience. Many other observations there be which your experience will produce unto your memory, & which acquaintance & familiarity amongst men skilful in this Art will bring to your knowledge, of which now my remembrance is barren of, wherefore not doubting but these being carefully looked unto, will give you all reasonable satisfaction: for the rest I will refer them to your own practice, and the disputations of others reasons. Now for the inconveniences which are most apt to fall out during this time of dietting running horses, they are three in number; namely, lameness of members, sickness of body, or dislike of food. To prevent lameness of limbs, you must let your exercise be moderate, & use daily those supple ointments which are sovereign for the limbs, as linseed oil, train oil, sheepes-foote oil, neats-foot oil, and such like; all which are to be used before travel: & piss and saltpeter, nerve-oil, oil de bay, & oil Perolium, all which are to be used after labour: but if notwithstanding all these helps, yet lameness do chance to happen, than you must repair to the next book following, which containeth the office of the Farrier, where in you shall find remedies for every sorrance: as for sickness of body to prevent it, you must keep the body clean by scourings, the blood pure by good diet, & the spirits active, & in strength by healthful exercise; but if likewise cross to your in●uors this chance of sickness, & infirmity hap unto your horse, than you shall repair likewise to the next book, where you shall find receipts for every imperfection in nature, as wholesome purgations, cofortable drinks, & the best glisters, of which you shall stand most in need in this ca●e of straight dietting; for if your horse in the time of this especial keeping, do by any accident dry inwardly, so that he cannot dung but with great pain and dfficultie, you shall then not loosen him by any purgation or scouring, for that through his passage amongst the inward vessels, and mixing with the blood and spirits, doth weaken a horse too much, but only you shall administer a glister unto him which is most kindly, both cooling and comfortable. Now lastly for his dislike of food, to prevent it, you must use oft change of food, & certain times in your feeding; but if notwithstanding it happen, than you must repair it by much airing, and longer times of fasting: & thus much both for observations and inconveniences. CHAP. 8. Certains helps and rules for the Rider, and bow he shall run his horse at the best advantage. OF all the advantages which are either to be gained or lost, there is none greater or Of weight. more carefully to be respected, then either the giving, or the losing of weight, for it is most certain and I have seen many experiments thereof that a pound weight advantage hath both won & lost the wager, as thus, he that hath been a pound weight heavier hath lost, and that pound weight being abated he hath won, for in long or sore courses, where weight is to be felt, there less than a pound is very troublesome; and though these chances happen not in every course, at least are not so severally looked into, yet for mine own part, I give this caution to all those which intent to make any match upon running horses by no means to give his adversary any advantage in weight, for though it be never so little in a man's sense or apprehension, yet it is a great matter in the end of the weary labour. The weight, which for the most part is agreed upon in matches in these days, and the certain weight which is allowed in all bell-courses through this land, where men are the riders is ten stone weight, each stone containing fourteen pound; and (being in a match for a Bell) if he which comes first unto the staff, want any thing of his due weight, (which is presently to be tried by the scales) he shall lose his advantage, & the second horse shall have the Bell, but if the second horse want weight also, than the third horse shall have it, and so from horse to horse, till it come to the last horse, and for mine own part, I have seen courses where for want of weight the hindmost horse hath been adjudged the Bell, and indeed it is his dew if he bring his true weight to the staff, and be seen to gallop the course thorough; but if in the course he be seen to leave galloping as despairing in ●he match▪ then he shall challenge no advantage, because his own yielding was a resignation of all his right in that days victory. 〈◊〉 Now if no horse bring his weight to the staff, than the Bell shall be given to that horse which ran with the gr●test weight. These Laws being well considered, it is the part of every good rider to make himself a full complete weight, and if he be of himself so lig●▪ that he must c●trie dead weight, the● to carry it 〈◊〉 a thick plate of 〈◊〉, folded & sowed up in cloth or canvas, & going 〈◊〉 girdle about his breast under his armpits, & to be ●orn up with two cross Bautricks overthwart his shoulders, for so shall it be least troublesome, both to the horse, and to the rider, whereas to carry dead weight, as I have seen many riders do, either about their wastes, or in the pockets of their breeches, it must needs be very wild, and cannot choose but beat a man mightily, both upon the thighs and body. To ride with a plate coat, (as I have seen a principal Rider do) cannot but be most troublesome, or to bear sods of earth about a man is the worst of all, for the earth drying, looseth the weight, and so puts in danger the wager. I would not have a rider by any means to ride fasting, for though some suppose they are then lightest, yet daily proof shows us, that they are heavier than when their bodies have taken moderate sustenance. Now since I am entered thus far into these advantages, I will show you one most necessary which hitherto I have omitted, which is advantage against advantage, as Of advantage against advantage. thus for example; If you being the master of a horse of principal good speed, shall be either braved or challenged by him that hath a horse but of a mean speed, saying he will run with you such a course if you will but give him one quarter of a mile advantage, you that by certain proof and trial knows your horse is able to overrun him in that course above three quarters of a mile, will presently make the match: in this case, you shall by no means agree to give him his odds, or advantage of the quarter of a mile at the beginning of the race, for that may soon bring you to be a loser; and the reason is this: your adversary at the start stands a just quarter of a mile before you, and the sign being given, you both start, you have then a quarter of a mile to run before you come to his starting place, which if you do not run at the height of your horse's speed, than your adversary will be got another quarter of a mile before you, and then your wager is in great hazard; but say you do run at your best speed, so that when you come to the end of the first quarter, your adversary 〈◊〉 but at a three quarters speed (as if he be wise he will not run faster) is but half a quarter before you, then have you that half quarter to run upon the spurs also: when that is done, say he be but twenty score before you, that must be run upon the spurs also: then say he be but twelve score before, you must run that at the same speed also: then say you come in that twelve score to buttock him, you shall then find he having run all the while before at his own ease, and within his speed, will now be able to give a fresh loose from you and almost to double the speed he b●fore held, whilst your horse having before neither had ease, nor breath given him, will even through despair and faintness, yield in his labour, except he be a Horse of such an invincible spirit as hath few or no equals, whereas on the contrary part, give the advantage at the last end of the race, so that you may start cheek by cheek together, and you shall in the first quarter of the mile burst him, and enforcing him to run beyond his strength, he will not be able to endure his gallop, but will tire most shamefully. For as a Horse being kept in his strength grows proud in his labour; so being stretched beyond his strength, he grows weak and fainthearted. But leaving these advantages, and to return to my The horsrunners attire. purpose, after the Rider hath made his weight, and all other his accoutrements, in such fit sort as becomes a good Horseman; that is to say, his garments light, close, and easy, his cap fast upon his head, his boots without wrinkles, and his spurs easy for his heels, having very good steel rowelle;: then being mounted upon his Horse, and being ready for the start, he shall take a couple of rods finely rush grown, of good tough Birch, not being above an elle long, and one of them he shall put under his girdle, and the other he shall carry in the midst crosswise between his teeth: then shall he take up his Bridle reins, and having made them even, he shall hold them fast between his forefinger and his thumb, and then hawk them about his hand twice, drawing them unto such a firm straightness, that albe he let the first hawk loose, yet the second shall hold his Horse at a sufficient commandment. And being thus readily prepared, carrying his legs close by his horses sides, with his toes turned inward towards the points of the horses fore-shoulders, so that the horse may neither feel the spur, not yet his legs be ●orne so far off, but that upon the least occasion he may instantly give him his spurs. As soon as the watchword for the start is given, he shall Of starting a swifthorse. by bowing his body a little forward towards his horse's neck, with all coolness & gentleness that may be, start his horse into little more than an ordinary gallop; for there is not a more wild or unhorsmanlike motion, then to start a horse suddenly, or in fury, both because if the horse be of a furious and great spirit, such an intemperate hastiness will drive him into a violent madness, in which he will either choke himself at first in his own wind, or else run away so fast that he will abate his strength before he have occasion to use it, as I have seen many times happen between a mad horse, and a mad hors-man. Now it is certain that there be some Horses (as I have both seen and ridden such) which though the Horseman be never so temperate and mild, yet out of the hardness of their mouths, and the violence of their spirits, if they be either started amongst other horses, or hear horses come thundering after them, will (whether the rider will or no) run at the height of their uttermost powers, whilst they have either strength or wind. Such a horse if you chance to ride upon who hath neither patience in starting, nor temper in running, than I would have you to suffer such horses as run against you to start before you, and you with all gentleness to follow them even in the very path, that one of them runs, so that if he offer to run faster than he should, he shall be enforced to run over the horse which runs before him, which seldom you shall find any horse without compulsion will do, by means whereof you shall reap these two benefits: first that you shall keep your horse in that temper of speed which you desire, and so preserve your horse both in strength and wind: and secondly, what with the noise of your running, and the fear that you will tread upon his heels, you shall drive your adversary so fast before you, that through fear and fury you shall beat him out of wind, and make him saint much sooner than if he ran at his own pleasure, insomuch that when you have ridden a mile or more, at what time your horse will come to coolness, and temperate riding, you shall find him in that strength of wind and body, that you may take what way you will and rule your horse by the directions of your own thoughts. But if your horse be so extreme mad, that he will not suffer any horse to start before him, nor yet stand still with any quietness till the time of starting, you shall not then take his back till your adversaries be all ready mounted, and then as soon as you get up, you shall stand a horse length or two at least behind your adversaries, and cause your groom to hold him quietly by the head, having his face turned the contrary way, to that which he should run till the other horses be started, then upon their starting, the Groom shall turn him gently about, and you shall start with all quietness; & though you will think the loss of so much ground is a great disadvantage, which cannot be at the most above forty or threescore yards, yet it is not so, for believe it to lose twelvescore yards, so you may bring your horse to run temperately, will be double gained in a course of four mile, for nothing brings a Horse sooner to faintness then intemperance and indiscretion at the first starting. These Horses of which I have hitherto spoken, being of great courage and metal are intended to be of great speed and swiftness, for it is impossible to find toughness and fury joined together, because the one doth ever confound the other: wherefore if the Horse you ride upon be swift and spritie, you shall let your adversary lead you, till you find your horse begin to ride at some commandment, than you shall thrust up to the side of your adversary, and see in what sort he rideth, whether he have made any use of his spurs, whether he ride with a loose hand, or whether he use any other close correction, as either to give him a chock in the mouth with his bridle, to dash his feet forward upon, his stirrup leathers, or to strike him with his spur upon the contrary side which is from you, which you shall know by the whisking of the horses tail; any of these if you do perceive, and feel your own horse to run at his ease, you shall then neither increase nor beminish your speed, but hold him up to that speed till you come within the last mile of the race, and then you shall lose a hawk and put your horse forth faster, which if your adversary second and follow you close, than you may bestow a good stroke with your spurs, or a good iert or two with your rod, and then letting go your last hawk, & being near the end of your race, shoot away as fast as you can make your horse go; but if upon the first letting go of your hawk, you find that your adversary doth not second you, but looseth ground, than you shall make good your hawk again, & only lose it when he shall come near you, till you have won the wager: for every good horseman ought to bring his horse to the last part of the race, with as great strength as may be, and not as I have seen many do, to spur away so fast upon the first advantage, that when they come to the end of the race where is both the greatest concourse of people, & where the horse should show his best spirit) they many times with great difficulty gallop, although their adversary be at least a quarter of a mile behind them, wherefore a judicial horseman knowing his advantages should hold them: & so though he run not far before his adversary, yet by his gallantness in running, & the pride of his horse's countenance, he shall declare to the world that he could do more, if it were his pleasure, and this is the best manner of riding, and most like to a good horseman. But if you run against many horses, so that if Of running against many Horses: you should ride at any one particularly, you should lose advantage of the rest; In this case you have but only this course of ridng, first to start with as great temperance as you can, & whilst all the horses run in a cluster together, to follow them close at the heels, & when you see any one or two of them to break from the rest, only to amend your speed but a little more, & to come up to the hindemost horse, whom if you see to ride at his own ease, and with good strength, you shall draw him on a little faster, & look to the foremost horses which broke away first, & if you perceive that either of them whisk their tails about, or that you see their rider lie close & begin to labour, you shall then let them go, & hold you your certain speed still amongst the rest, for they being at strife one with another, will soon burst themselves, and when their wind begins to grow weak & their riders would a little ease them, than you shall thrust up hard unto them & by no means give them leave to take any breathing: yet you shall not covet to run past them, but upon them, till being within 3. quarters of a mile of the staff, you shall then put him to the uttermost of his power, & either win or lose instantly, so that to speak in a word, if you run amongst numbers, never strive, nor (if you can hinder it) be striven withal, but keeping a certainty in your speed, take your advantage when you see others are weakened. Hitherto I have only spoken of swift horses, because Of running▪ slow tough Horse. in them is most art to be used, but if your horse be not full so swift, yet very tough, and of great endurance, than you shall upon your first start run away at the least at a three quarters speed, for the first mile, yet not run before him, but cheek by cheek or hard upon his heel, that you may compel him to run as violently as you can, & when you have got him to any great speed, you shall then hold your bridle somewhat strait, yet bestow the even stroke of your spurs twice or thrice together: then when you come within a mile and a half of the end of the course, you shall spare neither rod, nor spur, but run away with all the speed you can till the wager be won or lost. Now for general rules in your riding, you shall Helps in riding know that he which will run a race, must have a sure, a strong, and a close seat without moving in his saddle or pressing too hard upon his stirrup leathers, he must carry both his arms close to his body, and when he useth his rod, he must not move his arm any more than from the elbow downward, when he spurs he must not fetch his legs with a long blow, but gripe his horse upon each side sharply and suddenly; if when he is in the very height of his running, when he spurs his horse, he perceive him to whisk his tail, and clap his ears close to his neck, he shall then forbear to spur him, & rather seek to give him breath, because than he is at the uttermost of his power, and to torment further were to make him faint and desperate; he shall never ride his horse with a loose hand, but holding his reins at an indifferent straightness, keep his horse in wind and courage. Now for the rules of foul play, as the crossing of ways, the striking your adversaries horse thwart the face as you pass by him, the shouldering him up into uneven paths or rough ways whereby you may endanger to overthrow him; or as you ride▪ close by him with your foot to dash his foot out of his stirrup, or riding knee to knee to put your knee under the thigh of your adversary and so seek to ho●se him out of the saddle, or laying your hand upon his shoulder, to pull him backward; or in riding by him to twitch his rod either from his hand, mouth, or girdle, or a world of other such like knaveries, as they are both contrary to fair play, & are the grounds of many great quarrels and grievances amongst great persons, so I wish every good rider, not only to shun them but with his uttermost power to detest him that will put them in practice, because it is both the sign of a dishonest nature, & is the only means to bring confusion to that sport which is most praiseworthy. And thus much for the rules both good and evil which accompany the running rider. CHAP. 2. The office of the Saddler, and the best side of hi● commodities. NOt that I am ambitious of the name of general knowledge, nor that I would have the world to repute me such an officious Constable that I will make privy searches into occupations beyond my commission, do I intend to handle this matter of the Saddler's office. But since I have thus far waded into this general revelation of all things belonging to the skilful horseman, and that every Gentleman, horseman, or other travailer, may know how to apparel his horse, which is most beautiful, which most easy, and which most hurtful, I mean according to mine experience, to deliver the true shapes and benefits of Saddles, and other implements belonging to a horse, and to show which is the meetest for the man's seat, or the horses wearing, presuming that in it I know more than a common Saddler, because they only fashion, and the horseman finds the ease, or disease of their proportions. To begin therefore with Saddles the saddle for the great horse or horse of service, is the most worthy, the true The great horse saddle. shape and proportion whereof I have showed before in my book of riding. And albe it have not the high fore-pillowes or bolsters, to which you may so conveniently fasten your steels or plaits, as the flat pillows used in times past have, yet a skilful Saddler may make the outside of those pillows as flat as he please, and with some small buckles make the plates as fast above & below, as any vice pins whatsoever, than whereas some will find fault at the roundness of the pommel, as supposing it doth not cover the man's belly sufficiently, to that I say they are very much deceived, for if the seat of the saddle have his true descent and compass, the pommel cannot choose but come to the rider's navel, which is a height in the strictness of Art somewhat of the highest, only this observation the sadler must keep, that the fore-pillowes must stand so directly downward, that they may defend the Riders knees from the neither point of the bare tree, and not by setting them somewhat too forward, leave nothing between his knees and the tree, but the thickness of a single leather. At the setting on of the pommel of the saddle shall be placed a ring of iron, whereto to fasten your pistols, and by the right side of the pommel shall be a loop whereon to hang your battle axe, there must be betwixt each mid side of the panel before and the tree, a strong buckle whereto to fasten the breastplate, and directly in the mid part of the saddle behind over the horse's chine, an other strong buckle whereto to fasten the crupper. Next unto this saddle is the Morocco saddle, which The Morocco saddle: in every shape should resemble the proportion of this former saddle, only in the bigness of the pillows, the height of the hinder crupper, the depth of the seat, and squareness of the tree, it should not contain half so much as the other, the length thereof not being above seventeen or eighteen inches, the depth ten inches, and the height of the hinder croope or pillows not above five inches; to this Saddle doth also belong both breastplate & crupper, and it is principally to be used in the wars, as either for the light horse or the Carbine, and these two Saddles for service in the wars, are altogether sufficient. Now to proceed so such saddles as are meetest for the use of traveling, you shall understand that for princes, The F●ench pad: men of estate, men diseased or corpulent, all which howsoever they journey, yet they journey with great moderation & temperance being as loath to over heat their horses, as to over toil themselves, for such I say, the most easiest, gravest and comeliest seat is the french pad, if it be made of a right shaped tree, and the seat stopped with down, and artificially quilted, neither so soft and loose that the weight of the man press it flat down; nor so hard that the seat will not yield though the man sit never so heavy, there is a mean betwixt both these, and that mean is to be observed. Now the general and greatest fault which our Saddlers here in England do commit in making these French pads is, that they make the seats thereof too broad, so that when a man comes to bestride them, they do make him open his thighs so wide, that he can neither sit fast nor at his ease, but after a little travel put him to such pain, as if they would split or divide him; wherefore it is the office of the good sadler when he makes the seat of the French pad, to raise the upper Garthweb a little higher, and to draw the seat before as narrow as he can, & as thick & soft as he can; I mean that part only which is just between the man's legs: as for the hinder part of the seat which is under the man's buttocks he shall make it broad, round, flat and soft, that the man may sit thereupon, as if he sat upon a cushion; to this saddle also doth belong both breast, plate and crupper; so that it as the former must have buckels for that purpose. The next saddle to this for ease is the large Scotch The lar●e scotch saddle. saddle being at least eighteen inches in length, and made with the French pad seat, together with pillows and bolsters of like fashion, of which sort of Saddles a man may behold some almost in every Saddler's shop, and it is a very excellent Saddle for his service, who having great occasions of continual travel, is now and then compelled to travail with more than ordinary haste: so that should he make use of the French pad, or any of the former Saddles, the burden and trouble sometimes would too soon heat his horses back, & with the scalding thereof breed both the felter worm, warble, and such like diseases, and also draw a horse sooner to faintness and weariness in his journey; for the truth is, those heavy Saddles are but for moderate travail. The next Saddle to this for the use of travel, is the plain Scotish saddle, I do not mean that Scottish saddle which The plain Scottish saddle. was in use many years agone, and are yet remaining in Saddler's shops, being in fashion just four square, that is to say, as deep as they are long: for of all the proportions of saddles they be the worst: but I mean that saddle which being eighteen inches in seat, is not above ten inches in depth to the neither points, or being fourteen inches in length, is not above eight in depth, and these sizes are sufficient for any man of what shape soever he be, if he exceed not a horses ordinary burden, Now it is the office of the sadler which maketh the seat of this plain Scottish saddle to set it somewhat straight upon the garthweb, and not according to our late found fashion in the South parts of this kingdom, to set the garthweb so loose, that before the saddle come to be ridden in, the seat is fallen as low, & beareth as great a compass as if it had been ridden in many days before, which I must confess is more comely to the eye of the beholder, but nothing near so profitable for the use of the rider; & the reason is this, when the garthweb is so let down, & the seat proportioned before the saddle be ridden in, then when it comes to bear the weight of the man, and to be stretched out by burden; the garthweb which ever at first will recht, falls down so low under the tree of the saddle, that after a months riding in it the man is forced to sit upon the edges of the ribs of the Tree, and which is worse than that, the seat will be so hollow, that when either the horse shall stumble, be put to any great leap, or upon any great affright shall fodainely stand still; the upper part of the saddle will give the man such a jump against the bottom of his belly, that it will make his heart ache for many hours after, whereas when the seat stands strait upon the garthwebbe, than the weight of the man doth no more but settle the web to such a computant lownes, that the man being born up above the saddle tree, sits both more sure, more easy and more free from danger; and these saddles are used most of young Gentlemen, and such other youthful spirits, who scorning to be older than there years, or give the world notice of any inability, will neither be beholden to the pad or any other quilted seat, for the benefit of ease in their travel. Next unto this saddle is the hunting or running The Hunting or running saddle Saddle, which is also but a plain scotch saddle of the same general proportion that the former scoth saddle is, only it must be the lightest and nimblest you can possible have framed, as being made of the oldest and dryest Sallow which can be gotten and hewed to as slender a substance as can possibly be, for the strengthening whereof the sadler shall first cover the wood over with dried sinews, of an Ox well tas●ed and mixed with well tempered glue, and not as many of our Saddler's usr to do, to lay on the sinews, with nothing but passed only. After the tree is sinewd, you shall then glue strong canvas all over the wood also, then plate the tree, both before and behind and it wlil be strong enough for any burden. These hunting or running Saddles would be full twelve inches in length of seat and not above five inches in depth down ward; it must also have the seat made strait upon the Garthwebbe, and the pillows thereof round, and but a little bigger than a man's great fingar. Now because the greatest goodness in saddles consisteth in the saddle tree, the sadler when he chooseth his trees Of choosing saddle trees: shall observe these principles, first that their shapes be right in his eye, next that the wood whereof they be made, be exceeding old, dry, and well seasoned, for if it be otherwise, the very heat of the horses back will warp the saddle tree, and if it warp but the breadth of a straw awry, it will never stand upon any horses back after, but it will hurt him; Next he shall turn up the saddle tree, & with a thread measure it from point to point, crosswise, & if it be not just and even, but longer or wider one way then another, which of Sadlers is called a skellowd tree, than it cannot possibly be ridden upon, but it will hurt a horse: but if it be square and even, than you may presume it is very perfect; then he shall not suffer any holes to be cut through the tree for to pass the stirrup leathers thorough but to have strong Sivills of iron well revited thorough the tree wherein to put your stirrup leathers, he shall nail upon each side of the Saddle, three strong tabbes of neats leather, only they upon the left side, shall be longer than those upon the right side, because the horse is ever girded upon the left side: the pannelles of his Saddles shall be made of strong linen cloth, which is longest ere it heat, and soon dried when it is wet, and not of the cotton as it is used in some places. The best stopping for panels is dears hair, for it is softest lieth most even and soon drieth when it is wet, but where it cannot be got, there must other hair be used, but the Saddler must be very careful that the lime be well washed out of it, and that it be well beaten, or else it will both poison and hurt a horses back: the panel also would be stopped no further then to cover the wood of the tree, for more is superfluous, and doth but add to the Horses back a heat extraordinary. As the Saddler shall thus be furnished with all manner of saddles, so he shall likewise have all sorts of bytts, which belong to the great horse saddle, the Morocco or the French pad, the proportions of which mouths and cheeks are figured in the book of riding. He shall also have headstalles fit for such bits made of black neats leather, both plain or studded, with breastplates and trappings suitable to the headstalles and tryming of the Saddles; then he shall have to join with the Scotch Saddle, which hath the French pad seat, or with the plain traveling Scotch Saddle, fine light Northern Bridles, made of good neats leather sound oiled, and either of white, black, red or yellow colour. To these bridles, he shall have Snaffles of all shapes, some smooth, some rough, with small rings in the midst, and sundry sort of small players fastened to those rings, which to a traveling horse breeds pleasure, & makes him have a white mouth Now to the Hunting or running Saddle, he shall have likewise light narrow Northern bridles, but his Snaffles for those purposes shall be longer than the traveling Snaffles by at least two inches, they shall have no rings nor players in the midst, but be plighted one within another, and the whole Snafsnaffle shall be as whole and as slender as may be, and the plights made so easy that you may make the our most end at your pleasure, mere one with the other, the reasons of which shapes are, first it shall have no players lest the horse in his race catch them between his teeth, and so hold them, that though the rider pull never so hard, yet the horse will run away without controlment; neither shall the players make him foam at the mouth, lest that flux of gross moisture in his swiftness choke or stop his wind, than the two outmost ends shall meet together, that if the horse shall run faster than you would have him, the pulling in of your bridle rain shall draw the outmost ends of the snaffle so close together and so nip the horse upon each side of the chap, that he shall be glad to have his head commanded. Next these the sadler shall have stirrups of all fashions, as to the great Saddle, the Morrocko & the pad, & such stirrups as are figured in the book of riding, but to the other Scotch Saddles, fine, slender, round, webbed, stirrups, that part which is under the rider's foot, being raised & made rough like a rape file, that his feet may not slip up and down therein. He shall have garths of all sorts, those for traveling being made of broad linen web with large strong buckles, those for hunting or running of woollen web, strongly quilled and joined to the lightest and sinest buckles. He must have stirroppe-leathers made of welliquored leather, & by no means so burnt in the dressing, as most black stirrup leathers are, which are hardly for a weeks fernice. As for maine-combs, curry combs of all fashions and sizes, sponges, postpillions, Sursingles, Collars, pasterns, Coach-harnesses, hoods and housing clothes for horses, and such like apparellings meet either for use in the house, in the field, or upon the high way, it is the office of every good Saddler to have both the best and the best choice, as being the only Merchant for these necessary commodities. And thus much for a slender taste of the Saddler's office. CHAP. 10. The office of the Smith, touching the shoeing of horses. BEcause the Smith is a most principal and necessary member in a well ordered stable; and that the want of him bringeth many most gross inconveniences to the good estate of Horses, I will before I proceed any further, speak something concerning his office, not as to speak of his office in every general understanding, but only of that part of his office which concerneth the paring and shoeing of Horse's feet. It is therefore the duty of every good Smith, to know that Horses have two sorts of hooves, that is to say, either perfit or imperfect; the perfit hoof is divided into two kinds, that is, the perfit round hoof, and the perfit long hoof: and the imperfect hoof is divided into eight kinds, that is, the flat hoof, as those of flemish horses, the brittle or rugged hoof as those which grow after frettizing or foundering; the crooked hoof, either inward or outward (the inward making a horse enterfaire, the outward making a horse gravel) the overhollow or dry hoof, as those of Barbaries & Turks. The hoof which is all sole (of some called a broad frush) which makes a horse have weak heels: the narrow heeled hoof, the hoof with the false quarter, & the hoof that is bound, either by any strain, or some one of these former imperfections. To all these hooves both perfect & imperfect, here belongeth great skill, & the Smith must know how to handle and pair each one of them severally. Wherefore first to speak of the perfect hooves: the round Of perfit hooves. perfit hoof is good in the traveling horse, and is both a sign of strength & long life: the long perfect hoof (which by some of our English writers is accounted a fault in horses) is excellent both in the running & hunting horse, & is not only a great sign of swiftness, but also makes a horse run with less pain and labour overthwart deep fields, or miry ways. Touching the paring of either of them, the smith must know that there is but one skill to be there used, & that is, he shall (assoon as he hath taken his Buttris or paring knife in his hand) not take his stroke from the top of the heel down to the toe (as our bungling common Smiths do) cutting away the horses heels at the first stroke, which only should be preserved and cut little o● nothing at all, but striking at least an inch or more short of the heel, he shall first pair the toe, both smooth, plain, thin, and even: then turning himself about, and looking upon the horses heels, if in his eye they appear (for want of ordering) to be a little overgrown, than he shall as slightly and thinly as may be pair away only the superfluous growth of the heel: for the Smith must know, that the only thing which is to be preserved in a horse's hoof is his heels. This done, he shall with his face turned opposite to the horses hoof, and with the edge of his Buttris upward, open the heel of the Horse be tween the frush and the hoof as wide and as hollow as conveniently may be, for that only giveth ease and liberty to the foot within the hoof: this done, he shall lay his shoe upon the hoof, and see that it lie close and even, not bearing more upon one part of the heel then on the other, but resting alike in all parts, which he shall discern, if by looking betwixt the hoof and the shoe he see any glimpse of light shining thorough more in one place then in another; when the shoe sits to your contentment upon the foot, than you shall see that the utmost verge or ring of the shoe extend almost half a straw breadth brother forth than the hoof, especially at the heels, and on each side, but at the toe, the hoof and the shoe shall be all one. Now to speak more particularly of the shoe, it is the office of the Smith to know that he must fashion, proportion and turn it according to the shape of the hoof, and not like our Smiths, make one shoe serve all manner of feet. He shall also know how to give his Iron the toughest and not the hardest temper: he shall make his nail holes more towards the toe than the heel, because there the hoof is weakest and narrowest, and the vein lieth most outmost. Now for the heels of the shoes, he shall make them with great thick sponges, at least half an inch thick, if the horse be either for service in the wars, or for traveling: but if he be for the Coach, waggon, or other draft; chiefly in paved streets, than instead of thick sponges, deep caukens are more commodious. For the web of the traveling shoe it shall be broad, chiefly at the toe, drawing a little narrower down towards the heel, yet in such sort that it may almost cover the hoof, and leave only the sole or frush uncovered, the Iron whereof the shoe shall be made, may either be good Spanish Iron, or good English Iron, and for mine own part I have ever found the English Iron the better. Now for the nail, it must both hold the same temper which the shoe hath, and be of the same Iron, the head must belong & square, beaten a little slopewise at the neither end, that it may fill the hole, & not (as some of our over curious Smiths do) be made in a mould, by which means it cannot enter in as it should, but holding only by the weakest part of the nail, which is the very point of the clench, with the least strain upon any stone or otherwise, it is loosened & wrested out of the shoe: these foolishly made nails, you shall know, for they have most commonly the four outmost corners of the head driven down, and the figure of a diamond square upon the top. Your nail head therefore must so enter into the shoe, that not above the one half may stand above the shoe, the shanks of the nails must be flat, and just so broad as the nail hole and towards the setting on of the head so thick, that they may fill the hole as they are driven in: the point of the nail shall be sharp, and beaten upon one side sloapewise, that as it is driven the point may carry the shank outward from the hoof, not inward towards the veane for fear of pricking. The first nail you shall drive in shall be into the middle hole upon the outside of the hoof, than set the shoe strait, which is, that it may stand and cover equally both the heels alike, then drive in another nail into the middle hole on the inside the hoof. Now you must understand, that when you drive in any nails, you shall either dip the point into soft grease or soap, or else wet them in your mouth. The hammer which drives them must be very light, and the first strokes very gentle till the nails be entered, and then harder and harder, till they can go no further. Assoon as any nail is driven in, you shall turn the point back again, down to the shoe ward, both for fear the horse by twitching his foot away, should hurt him which holds up his foot, and also that by the bending the shanks, the clenches may be the stronger. When all the nails are driven in, and the points brought out as it were all in one line, then with a pair of pincers the nails points shall be all wrung off close by the hoof, then driving all the nails over again, somewhat harder than before, the Smith shall then clench the nails upon the hoof by holding his pincers against each nail head, and with his hammer beating down every clench, till they lie as smooth, and as plain as may be; then with a rape file where the hoof is larger than the shoe (which should be no where but at the toe) he shall file it in such sort that the shoe may be discerned round about. Now for the imperfect hooves, If your horse's hoof be flat and weak, you shall pair the toe a little, but the he'll nothing at all, neither shall you open them above a straw breadth deep between the frush and the hoof: his shoe shall be so broad that it may cover all the hoof hollowly that it may not touch the sole, and largely that it may bear him both easily and from the ground. But if your horses hooves be rugged or brittle, then in paring them you shall open his heels both as deep and as wide as is possible, & take a little from the upper part. The ruggedness you shall file smooth with a rape file, and the toe you shall pair as thin as may be. For his shoe, it shall neither be heavy nor extraordinarily light, but of a mean size, only it shall be nailed round about the toe; the whole shoe containing ten nails at the least. But if his hoof be crooked inward or outward, look what side of his hoof he weareth least, & of that side pair the most away, leaving the other side whole and untouched, more than to make the shoe stand even; as for the shoe, it shall be a very broad web, & look of what side the horse treadeth most, that side of the shoe shall be a great deal the higher, & driving the most nails into the strong side of the hoof & the fewest into the weak. If the horses hooves be over hollow, you shall then pair away no part of the ball of the foot, but round about the out side of the hoof, even from the top of the heel to the toe, you shall take away as much as you can with conveniency, & make the hoof more flat & level, as for the shoe, it shall be in all points like the shoe for the perfect hoof, only a little flatter, & somewhat lighter: but if the horses hooves be all sole, having a broad frush, you shall then pair no part of it at all, but only to make the shoe stand even, for it stands need of all strength possible. As for the shoe, the heels shall be made with extraordinary long sponges, & those sponges more broad & flat then commonly is used, both to bear up his heels, & defend the weakness. If the horse have straight and narrow heels, than the heels must be opened well between the hoof, and the frush, that they may stretch & spread: & for the shoe it shall be very light before, but the sponges upon the hinder parts shall almost meet & join together; the nails should stand forward, & the shoe must want nothing of his due length, but if your horse either by pricking, stubbing or other mischiefs, put out a false quarter, you shall then in paring his hoof plain, hollow the false quarter a little thought more than the rest of the hoof, & when you set on the shoe also, you shall make it by a little hollowing to bear so from the false quarter, that the horse in his treading may not press upon any part of it. I have seen some that have made their shoes want a quarter, so that the false quarter hath been uncovered, but it is not good, especially if the horse travel in rough ways, for the least touch upon the sore place, will make the horse halt exceedingly. Now if your horse be hoof bound, you shall in paring open his heels, so that you may almost discern the quick, then with a sharp drawing iron, you shall draw the outside of his hoof, directly before his toe, & on each side of his hoof, almost clean thorough, & anoint it every day with hog's grease & tar mixed together: as for his shoe, it would be like the perfect shoe, only a thought wider and larger: but for half shoes like half moons, they are nought for they leave the heels undefended, which only should be supported & stretched forth to the utmost. Now if your horse have a good perfect hoof, yet through defect in his pace, doth interfaire or hew one leg upon another in this case, & to amend Of interfayring. this fault, his shoes shall be made flat upon the outside like ordinary shoes, but from the inside even from the toe to the heel, they must be a little more than a quarter of an inch broad, & more than a full inch thick from the hoof to the ground downward, the nails standing all round about the toe & the outside of the hoof▪ the narrowness of the shoe must stand a quarter of an inch within the hoof, & it will cast the horses legs outward. Some smiths will make these shoes of a full thickness from the hose downward, but so thin as the back of a knife overthwart, but they do no good, because the weight of the horse making those edges cut into the ground, he treads as it were on a level, & so cuts not with standing. Now for those shoes which Hunting shoes do belongunto the hunting horse, every smith must know that they differ from other shoes, because the horse's exercise is little upon hye-ways, or stony places, but altogether upon the deeps, therefore his shoes must be as light & slender as may be made, but only as it were to compass the outmost ring of the hoof, being in breadth not full half an inch, & almost as thick as broad, and having a small gutter round about, into which the Smith shallet in some part of the nail head. The heels of the shoes shall be a little turned up against the heels of the Horse, being bea● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 having as it were a little button underneath like a caulken made in the fashion of those sharp catches, which clap into locks and hold fast. The proportion of the shoes are in these figures; As for the running shoes, I have spoken of them somewhat already in the book of running Horses, where I have showed of two kinds, one for hard courses, the other for soft, whereunto I refer such as either desire satisfaction or would know the uses or reasons for them; many other shoes there are, as namely shoes with rings in the heels, to make a horse lift his legs, the Pancelet to help the weak heel, shoes with turning vices & joints and the patten shoe, all which being now out of use, because there being better means found out for the prevention of the faults they amend, I will here let them pass without descriptions, because I will neither trouble you with frivolous matter, nor entice you to practise that which is unprofitable. And thus much for the Smiths office in paring and shooeing only. The end of the sixth Book. CAVELARICE OR That part of Art wherein is contained the Knowledge or Office of the Horse-Farrier, with the signs and demonstrations of all manner of infirmities, and the most best approved cure for the same. The seventh Book. AT LONDON Printed for Edward White, and are to be sold at his shop at the little North-door of Paul's, at the sign of the Gun. To the Right Honourable and most noble Lord, john Ramsey, Viscount HADINGTON. IF there be a blame in me (most Noble Lord) to offer to your virtues this poor offertory of my labours, I must with renowned Sir Philip Sidney make answer, that is is a fault then in you to be virtuous, for did not your virtue and Honourable inclination (which even upholdeth and strengtheneth this Art which I profess) move me with the violence of an inrepressable desire to become your obscure servant, doubtless I had both concealed your Name & this Work: but since it is so, that I am now within the mercy of your more noble Spirit, even for virtues sake, and that delight which you conceive in the height of your pleasures, let my duteous love be mine excuse, and imagine that if I had enjoyed better ability to have expressed a better service, it had ere now been tendered to your Honour, with more than a hearty sincereness. As it is, I know your noble nature will hold it, & though I am not able to do you profitable service, yet I will not cease to add to your Name my prayers and best wishes, which is as much as Greatness can expect from a low fortune. Humbly your honours Gervase Markham. To all my fellow Smiths and farriers both good and bad, dispersed over this Kingdom. THere is nothing more prejudicial to the life of man then an unlearned Physician, nor no vilder member belonging to the stable than an unskilful farrier, whence it comes, that I have been more precisely careful to perfect this book, with the truest plainness, & the easiest demonstrations that I could any way fashion, because for the most part, you Smiths are Masters of little more than Nature's learning, so that should I have writ as former Authors have written, questionless as formerly you have done, so still you should continue in amaze and error, the effects of your practice having only the ground of custom, and not of reason: this to prevent, and that you may give a true account for whatsoever you shall administer, I have laid down every effect, every face, and figure of every infirmity, so plainly, & so accompanied it with undoubted truths, that if you will but either hear or read, and entreat your memories to retain what you shall have delivered. I doubt not but you shall both commend your expense of time, thank me for my travel, pleasure those which shall need you, and maintain your places with good reputation: howsoever this I know, that for as much as I have set down nothing beyond my knowledge, therefore I have done nothing to which I cannot give the account of reason, therefore if you accept it kindly, it is my love well employed, if otherwise, it is not lost, for I did not intend it for those which are ungrateful. Farewell. G. M. CAVELARICE. The seventh Book. CHAP. 1. Of the composition of Horses, and the qualitte of the things he is compounded of. HOw ever either the crossnes of my fortunes, which hath kept me under a low cloudy sail, or the misimployment of mine hours spent in lighter studies, may make the World constantly to imagine me an ignorant Truant in Philosophy, yet such hath been my covetousness in knowledge, that what I could either get by reading; commerce or instruction, I have retained with my best carefulness; so that those which best know me, knows I can say something in most Sciences: especially in this of which I intent now to write, because even from mine infancy I have pursued and followed it with all diligence and violence; yet sith I ever intended this Work for mine own tomb, and the general profit of this Empire, I will shun all obscurity, darkness and riddles, and in the plainest manner that may be, write so as the simplest Smith in the Land may be bettered by his reading: Wherefore first you shall understand, a Horse is compounded of seven natural things, that is Elements, Temperatures, Humours, Members, powers, Operations and Spirits. Of Elements there be four, that is Fire, Air, Water, and Earth, the Fire is of nature hot & dry, but the heat is chiefest, the property of which hea●e, is to move matter to generation, and to disperse things of several kinds, and bind together things of one kind. The Air is moist and hot, but the moistness is chiefest, the properties whereof is to make the matter apt to receive form, to quicken and cool the heart, and other such like offices. The Water is cold and moist but the coldness is chiefest, whose property is to bind and mix bodies together, as flesh with bones, and bones with sinews, and such like. The Earth is dry and cold, but the dryness is chiefest, the property whereof is to hold together those forms which the Air & Water through their fluxible natures would otherwise dissolve. Thus you may see, that since in every living creature there must be heat, moisture, coldness and dryness, their proper beginnings must come from the operation of these four Elements: For other more particular Elements, as the seed or menstrual blood, in that they also depend upon these former Elements, I will not make any longer discourse upon them. Now for Temperatures, they spring from the mixture of Elements, and are in number nine, that is, hot, cold, moist and dry, which are unequal & simple, then hot and moist, hot and dry, cold and moist, cold & dry, which are unequal and compound: and the last is a general mixture of all the four Elements indifferently, and is called equal, because it hath not more of the one then of the other. Now for the use of these tempers in a Horse, if he be equally compounded, that is, have indifferent mixture of the Element, then is he of the best temper, as being light, swift, bold, tractable, loving, and of long life: but if he exceed in one quality more than in another, as if he have most of the heat, than he is furious, mad and desperate, if most of moisture, than he is Apish, fantastical, and forgetful, if most of cold, than he is fearful, scyttish, and subject to tiring, if most of dryness, than he is dull, slothful, rebellious, and full of maliciousness: all which tempers, you may guess at by the Horse's colours, but known assuredly by practice in riding, or operation in medicine. Now these tempers do alter, as the powers of a horse either increase or diminish, as thus, a Foal is said to have his temper from the Fire and Air, a horse of middle age from the Fire and Earth, and a horse of old age from the Earth and Water. Horses likewise take their temperatures from the Clymbes where they are bred, as commonly those which are nearest the Sun, are ever of purest spirits & longest lives, and those which are farthest of, are more dull, and of less continuance. And although one of our English Authors, numbers our Nation of England for one of those cold countries, yet by his patience, he is much deceived, for if he will look upon the line under which we live, he shall find we are under such a temperate height, that neither Greece, Africa, nor Spain excels us in goodness. Now for humours they also are derived from the elements, and are in number four, that is to say, choler, which is of the nature of fire, blood; which is of the Nature of air, Phlegm which is of the nature of water, and melancholy which is of the Nature of Earth. Choler is in taste bitter, blood is in taste sweet, Phlegm, is in taste waterish without taste, and melancholy is in taste sour: the places where these humours most abound, is in the Liver Choler, in the heart Blood, in the brain Phlegm, and in the spleen Melancholy; from these humours also come horses colours, as from Choler comes bright Sorrels, Cole-blacks, and red Chessenuts: from Blood, comes bright Bays & roans: from Phlegm, Milke-whites, and yellow Dunnes: from Melancholy, Iron-greys and Mouse-duns. The Office of these humours is, Choler to digest and empty the guts, Blood, to nourish and warm the members, Phlegm to give motion, and Melancholy to procure appetite, being all good in their temperate Natures, but when they overflow, than they are wild and engender sickness. Now for the members, they are general, and special; general, as flesh, bone, sinew, and vein; special, as head, neck, breast, leg, foot, and such like; which though they be knit together, yet differ both in name and proportion, and of these special Members, the Brain, the Heart, the Liver, and the Stones, are the chiefest, from whom springe many other principal Members, as Sinews from the Brain, Arteries, from the Heart, Veins, from the liver, and Vessels of generation from the stones; all which, and the other inferior Members, it is most necessary every Farrier know, and he can by no means better attain thereunto, then by discerning or anotomizing horses when they are dead, as for mine own part, it was my practice many years together: Now for the powers which are in a horse, principally they be three, the first the power of feeling, which coming like a great cundite in one main sinew from the brain, disperseth and divideth itself into a multitude, other smaller sinews giving an universal feeling over the whole body, & this power by Physicians is called Animal. The second is the power of life, and proceedeth from the heart, conveying from thence in arteries, a certain vital blood of the nature of air, over the whole body also, & it is called vital. The third is the power of nourishment which proceedeth from the liver, carrying from thence in a number of smaller conduit pipes, the blood through the body, which cherisheth and strengtheneth every member, and is called Natural, which natural power hath also other four offices, as the receiving of food fit to nourish, the holding it that it may nourish, the digesting it after it hath nourished, and the expelling it away when it is turned to excrement: Now for opparations they proceed from the powers, as from feeling cometh motion of members, from life motion of humours whether distempered or not distempered, and may very well be felt by the beating of a horses pulse upon the temples of his head close by his ears, and not upon his fore legs, though some Authors write to such purpose, from nourishment comes the motion of thought, and the motion of generation, with many other such like, these operations be otherwise two fold, that is external, or internal, external as the motion of the limbs, which move but when the horse pleaseth, and internal as the motion of the heart, brain, and pulses, which move continually, whether the horse wake, sleep, go, stand, or whatsoever he doth else: Now lastly for the spirit, it is the very quintessence of the blood, and being conveyed in the Arteries, gives the body a more lively & sprity heat, and makes his feeling more quick and tender. By some horsemen, the spirit of a horse is taken to be his breath, but the former I take to be more substantial; but both have their workings, and may well be termed spirits: Now therefore it is the part and duty of every good Farrier, diligently to search into these seven famous natural simples whereof a horse is made, that knowing which element is in the horse's body most predominant, than which temper agrees with which element, which humour with which temper, which member is infected with which humour, which power is undistributed into which member, and lastly which spirit is weakened by the overworkeing, of which power he may apply all his receits and medicines according to art, and the composition of his horse's body. CHAP. 2. Of the Sinews, Veins and Bones of a Horse. ALthough some of our English horsemen will allow a horse but thirty four main sinews, yet I have found many more, and much difference from the descriptions I have read in some authors; for although Vegetius derives two main sinews from the mid no strell to the crupper, I find it is not so, but there is one main tendant or sinew, which coming from the brain, and hinderpart of the horses head, extendeth two smaller branches on each side the cheeks of the horse, which running along the chaps, meet at the horses nostrils; then doth that main sinew extend itself down the neck bone of the horse, running through every joint thereof in many small branches, till it come to the setting on of the chine, where the main sinew is divided into three great arms, one running through his chine, and dividing into several thirds through every joint of his back, knits & binds his ribs: the other two down each side of his shoulders, even to the bottom of his fore-hoofes, and is divided into forty several branches, now when the main sinew of his back comes to the binding together of his huckbones, it there again divides itself into other three great sinews, two running crosswise down his hinder legs, to the bottom of his hoofs, and are likewise divided into forty branches, the other goes still forward down to the end of the stern of his tail, dividing into every several joint many several branches, so that to speak generally of all the sinews, they are infinite, and almost without number, but to speak particularly of principal sinews they are eleven, that is first, two which runs through the chaps, and compass in the teeth, which is the occasion of toothache; two that meet at the nostrils, one down the neckbone, two down the shoulders and legs and down the back, two down the huckelbones and hinder parts, and one down the rump. Now for veins which are of use, and by striking of them bring health to the horse, there are in number one and thirty, that is to say, two in the upper part of his mouth, two in his temples, two under his eyes, one of each side his neck, two under his fore-shoulders, two in his breast, four in his thighs, two in his pasterns, two above his hooves on the cronets, four in his flanks, two in his hams, two in his hinder legs, and one under his tail: Now for the bones of a horse, although other authors have writ as perfectly of them as I am any way able to do, yet I will not stick here to repeat them, wherefore first you shall understand, a horse hath in all a hundred threescore and ten bones, that is to say, in the upper part of his head two bones, from the forehead to the nose two bones, his neither jaws two bones, of foreteeth 12, of ●ushes four, of grinders four and twenty, in his neck, seven, from the withers to the huckle bones eight from the huckle bones to the tail seven, than the broad bone behind with twelve Seams, two spade bones, than two to the canell bones, than two from thence to the first joint above the legs, than two to the knees from thence, two to the pasterns, and from thence down into the hooves sixteen little bones, one breast bone, thirty six ribs great and small, two bones to the Columell, two from the molairs to the joints, and two towards the ribs, from the hough to the leg two small bones, and from the leg to the forcels two small bones, and from the pasterns to the hooves sixteen little bones; and thus much for sinews veins, and bones. CHAP. 3. Of Horse's urine, and of his excrements. THere is no better note nor character that a Farrier can take of the state of a horses body, or wherein he may plainly see the true visage of infirmity and sickness, then in a horse's urine or excrements, because that they participating of the inward powers and faculties of the body, alter and change their colours and tastes, as the body altereth with the pain of infirmity and sickness; you shall know therefore, that first as touching urines, if when your horse pisseth his water be of a pale yellow colour, not transparent, that is to say, bright and clear, that a man may see thorough it, but of an indifferent thickness, & an unoffensive smell, than you may be assured the horse is sound, strong, and full of lust, but if his urine be of a bright high amber colour inclining some what to redishnes; than you must know that his blood is inflamed, and he hath either taken surfait of raw food, or else being heated, hath taken some sudden cold, which hath bred putrefaction & corruption in his blood, bringing forth the effects of Fevers, Yellows, Anticor or such like. If his urine look like blood, or have lost the strength of his savour, you must then understand your horse hath been over-laboured, and with too violent exercise hath distempered his blood, and bred corruption about his liver, whence springs many faint diseases, as the Apolexie or Palsy, consumption of the flesh, and such like. If your horse's urine have like a white cream upon the top of it, it is a sign of putrefaction & infirmity in his kidneys, whence comes the pain and consumption in the kidneys; if his urine be of a greenish colour, thick & muddy, it is a sign of weak reins and the consumption of the seed; if his urine be of a high reddish colour, very thick, cloudy, and the grossness as it were bound together, it is a sign of death and mortality, showing that nature hath given over her working, but if the black thickness hold not together, but disperse into sundry places, it is a sign that nature as it were revives and even conquers infirmities; many other observations there are, but for my own part, because I have found some untruths in them, I will not set them down for rules: Now for the excrements, I have both in the book of hunting and running, descried the uttermost properties and secrets which can any way be found out by them; and therefore in this chapter will not load your ears with that which I have formerly written. CHAP. 4. Of letting of Horses bleod, the time, the cause, and the signs which desire it should be used. TOuching the letting of horses blood, both the Farriars of former times, and those now in our days, are of sundry opinions, some saying it should be done at the beginning of every quarter in the year, as the spring, summer, autumn, and winter, others will let blood but three times in the year, that is the beginning of May, when blood springs, the beginning of September, when the blood is warmed and settled, and the beginning of December when the blood is gross & thickened, others would have a horse blooded but once a year, and that is in May only, because when blood springs, if the new blood should mix with the old corrupt blood it cannot choose but soon inflame and engender sickness; all these reasons are probable enough, and we see few horse-maisters at this day, but do follow either one or other of these observations, yet for my own part I cannot be induced to become any of their imytators, as holding this opinion not by any means to let my horse blood, but when urgent necessity, and apparent reasons draw me thereunto, for above all things I hate to do any thing for fashion sake, and I must confess I do even contemn and envy to see every Smith's shop in Christmas holy days look like a butcher's slaughter house, not one Farriar being able to give me a reason why he hath blooded any two of these horses, more than it is an old custom, and that the holy days is a time of rest wherein the horse may recover his blood again, not considering how precious a thing blood is, nor what evils such customs bring unto a horse, as weakness of body, imperfection of sight, cramps, convulsions and palsies, besides when a horse is let blood, by the rule of custom, if at any time you break or omit that rule, there presently follows disease and infirmity. Again, oft letting of blood makes the blood fall into the inward parts cloying the heart, stomach and guts, and leaving the outward parts, makes them gouty, gross & unnimble; wherefore if your horse be in health, and good state of body, by no means let him blood, except it be now and then with the point of your knife above the second and third bar in the roof of the horses mouth, by which means the horse may chew and lick up his own blood, which is most wholesome for many diseases as you shall perceive hereafter: or now and then in his eye veins, which is comfortable for the head, and cleareth the sight, but for letting blood in any long or more fluent veins, I would not have it used but upon necessity, as for any observation of the time of year, hour of the day, and state of the moon or sign, when there is cause of blood letting, I have ever set those cautions behind the door, & respects of little value, because the forbearance of a quarter of an hour, may be the loss of the horse, and indeed they are but bugbears only to scar the ignorant, but for observing the clime wherein a horse is bred, the age strength, and disposition of the horses body, they are notes worthy regard only touching the quantity of the blood you take away, for horses bred in hot countries, old horses, and phlegmatic horses would not have so much blood taken from them, as horses bred in cold regions, young horses, or choleric horses: Now that you may know when a horse stands need of blood letting, if you perceive that he hath any extraordinary itch, so that he now and then rubbeth his neck or buttocks, or if his skin begin to pill, or the hair either of his main or tail shed, if you have given him any violent exercise above his strength, so that he hath either taken surfeit, or been tired, if he be brought to an extreme poverty of flesh, or if his eyes look red, and his veins swell, if you find in him the effects of any Fever, the Yellows or Anticor, or any inward sickness, proceeding either of inflammation or corruption of the blood, in any of these cases it is necessary to let blood; and if the infirmity be not grown to any strength, than the best time to let blood in, is somewhat early in the morning, the horse having been kept fasting all the night before, let your horse (as near as you can) stand upon even ground when he is let blood, and let the cord wherewith you bind his neck strait, be straight twound, so that by no means it may retch out, but keep the straightness it holdeth, you must in any wise be most careful, that when you strike with your phlegm or instrument of blood-letting that in stead of the vain you strike not the artery which lies close by the vain, or setting the point of your phlegm by the side of the vain, that the skin slip, and so you miss the vain and hit the artery, either off which may endanger the horses life, which to prevent it is good when you have raised the vain to spit upon it, or wet it, that making the hair lie close and smooth, you may at a hair see how to place your phlegm in the right place, whilst your horse bleeds, you shall put your finger in the side of your horses mouth, and by rubbing, and tickling his upper bars, make him chew and move his chaps, which will make him bleed much more freshly, but if he will not suffer you to put your finger in his mouth, than you shall give him a little hay, or a little grass, only to make him move his chaps, if he will not (as many old jads are of that quality) suffer you after his neck is bound, to come to set on your phlegm, you shall then either put a pair of close spectackles over his eyes, or else blindfold him with something else, so that you may without danger approach him: It is very good to save the blood you take from him, and whilst he bleeds to stir it about for lumping, then to mingle it with bean● flower, and bole Armonicke; and being made thick like a plaster, to spread it upon his back and loins, for it is exceeding good, both for his legs & feet: when your horse hath bled sufficiently, you shall lose the binding cord, & with it stroke down the vain twice, or thrice; and it will staunch of itself: after the horse is let blood, you shall cause him to be set up in the stable, and to fast at least two hours after, and then give him what meat you please if he be fat and in strength, but if he be lean and weak, than you shall give him a warm sweet mash made of water, and ground malt well mingled together: And thus much for letting of blood. CHAP. 5. Of Sickness in general. Sickness is by divers ancient writers diversly defined, and as diversly divided. One says it is an evil affection contrary to nature, hindering some action of the body, and divides it into three kinds: the first parts that are a like, the second parts instrumental, the third both these joined together, the first consisteth in the predominance of the elements, as when either choler, blood, phlegm, or melancholy do supper abound; the second, in composition of the body, when the members are diseased or deformed: the third in the division of members, as if it be in a fleshy part, than it is called a wound or an ulcer, if in the bones than it is called a Fracture. Another saith sickness is a malady, or grief proceeding from the corruption, and weakness of the vital parts, and divides it into four branches, as moist malady, dry malady, malady of the joints, and malady betwixt the skin and flesh, the moist malady springs from phlegm and melancholy, as strangle, glanders, and other fluxes; the dry malady springs from choler and blood as consumptions, dry coughs and such like, the malady of the joints is all griefs incident to joints, as splints, spavens, excressions swellings, and such like: and the malady betwixt the flesh and skin is the Fartion, scab, mangives or such like; Others make other definitions & divisions, but all tending to one end, they are needless to be repeated, and it shall be enough for the diligent farrier, if he but retain in his memory, that all inward infirmities are called sicknesses, or diseases and all outward infirmities are called grieves and sorances and that he apply and moderate his medicines according to the violence of the disease increasing the strength of his receipt as the disease increases in power, & thus much for sickness in general; As for the signs & Characters by which diseases and sorances are to be known because I set them down at large in the beginning of every infirmity, I will at this time forbear to write or trouble you with them. CHAP. 6. Of Fevers and the divers kinds thereof together with their cures Fevers although our ordinary Farriers neither know them nor can cure them, and therefore hold opinion there is no such thing: yet for mine own part, I have had such experience and have so certain lie found the effects of them in many horses, that I dare avouch the disease to be common and in daily knowledge, wherefore to speak generally of Fevers: a Fever is an immoderate heat, or inflammation of the blood disturbing and hindering all the motions of the body, and of these Fevers there are divers kinds, a Quotidian or continual Fever, Tertians as every other day a fit, Quartans which are every third day, & pestilent or or burning Fevers, the first three proceeding from hu mors and spirits, the last from putrefaction and inflammation of the blood, engendered by either too extreme and violent exercise, or by surs●it of raw food, as of undried pease or oats, or of uncleanly food as chaff, pease pulse and such like. The extreme heat of the Sun, or extreme coldness of the air will either of them engender Fevers; Now the signs to know a Fever is, you shall see him hang down his head, his eyes being heavy and waterish, his lips will hang from his teeth and his flesh willbe loose, his stones will hang down, and his breath will be hot, he will gape oft and stretch out his limbs, he will have a kind of shivering in his flesh and an extraordinary heat and beating of his pulses upon the temples of his head, he will drink much and eat little, and his urine will look of a high colour bright & clear like amber. Now if you find these signs not to alter or cease, but to continued in one strength and violence, than you shall be assured it is a Quotidian or continual Fever, but if the motions alter and he be one day well and the next day il, than it is, a Tertian, but if he be one day ill and two days well, than it is a Quartan, for cure whereof some have used this Physic, first to let him bloodin his temple veins, and palate of his mouth, and sometimes in the neck vein and to give him the first day no meat, but warm drink; then after to give him grass, or hay wet in water, and to keep him warm and walk him in a temperate air, and then upon his amendment to give him sodden Barley the husk being beat of as you beat wheat before you boil it; Others use for the cure of this Fever, first to purge his head by squirting into his nostrils, either the urine of a Man o● of an Ox, & then give him this drink, take of jermander 4. ounces, of 〈◊〉 dragon, and dried roses of each an ounce, beat them to powder, than put them into a quart of old ale, and add thereto of salad oil and honey of each four ounces and give this drink lukewarm. Others have prescribed other medicines, some stronger, some weaker, some for Fevers in autumn, some for Fevers in summer, some for spring, and some for winter, but I have proved them, yet never could find much profit by them; the only means that ever I found for these Fevers hath been this, as soon as you have perceived the visible signs of these Fevers, first to note how the fits come and go, & then to keep the horse fasting for at least a dozen hours before the fit come, that nature wanting whereupon to work, she may only work upon the diseased humour, and so consume and weaken it, then when you do perceive the fit to approach you shall take of strong ale a quart, and boil therein of wormwood half a handful, of long pepper and grains, two ounces, of strong treacle two ounces, & of the powder of dried rue one ounce, and when the third part of the ale is wasted, take it from the fire and strain it and give it the horse lukewarm to drink, or if you will you may in stead of this drink take the yolks of four new laid eggs & beat them in a dish, than put thereto eight spoonful of Aqua vitae, and mingling it well together give it the horse to drink, then being warmly clothed ride him up and down in some fair warm place till he begin to sweat and then set him up in the stable, lay more clothes upon him, and give him litter enough under him and let him so sweat at least two or three hours & then abate his clothes with discretion. Thus doing but twice at the most will assuredly mend any of these kind of agues; as for the drink which he shall drink during this cure, let it be warm water wherein hath been boiled meadows, Sorrell, Pursline, and Endive, and for his food let it be well dried oats, and bread made of clean beans, if during his sickness he prove dry or costive in his body, you shall then give him now and then half of a Rye sheaf ears and all to eat. This manner of cure is not only good for these fevers, but also for any other inward sickness proceeding from inflammation of the blood or corruption of humours. There is also an other Fever which is called Of the Pestilent Fever. the pestilent or bourning Fever, and it hath all the signs and faces before showed, only they are perceived more violently, and have greater shoes of pain & sickness differing absolutely but in this effect, which is the horse never shivereth or shaketh as having the effect of coldness: but continually bourneth as being universally distempered with heat & glowing; which you shall plainly perceive by his continual desire to drink and sciple, never satisfied till the cold water be in his mouth, and by laying your hands upon his fore legs under his knees, or upon the temples of his head which two places will boon more than any other parts of his body; The cure of this pestilent Fever (though our Farriers hold it incurable) is thus. First you shall let him blood in the neck vein, them you shall lay to the temples of his head this plaster. Take of the juice of Camomile 4. spoonfuls, of Goat's milk 4. spoonfuls, of the juice of Sage four spoonfuls, and of salad oil four spoonfuls, then take a handful of dried rose leaves, whethér of a rosecake or otherwise, and be eaten all these in a mortar till it be made one substance, then take four spoonfuls of strong wine vinegar and with it stir them altogether, and if it be very thin then take as many more rose leaves and beat with them till it be as thick as a plaster, than spread it upon a cloth and strew upon it the powder of three or four nutmegs, then warm it hot upon a chafing dish and coals, and apply it to the horse as aforesaid, than you shall give him to drink: water boiled with Violet leaves, Mallows and Sorrel; but if the fit hold him violently, you shall take three ounces of lane treackle, and dissolve it in a pint of Malmsey, and put thereto the juice of two or three Lemons, and give it him in a horn to drink, and it will presently put away the fit, the nature of this Fever being so pestilently hot, is to fur the mouth, and to breed ulcers and soreness both in the mouth and throat, wherefore you shall carefully every day look in his mouth, and if you perceive any such thing, take but the syrup of Mulberries, and with a small squirt strike it into his mouth, and it will heal the sore immediately, for it is of such virtue that a man once knowing it, will hardly be without it, but if you cannot get the syrup of Mulberries than take a pint of running water & boil therein two ounces of alum, and half a handful of Sage, and with that wash the sore place and it will heal it: If the heat and dryness of this disease keep the horse so costive that he can by no means dung, you shall then only give him this glister. Take of new milk half a pint, of salad oil a pint, and half a pint of the decoction of Mallows and violet leaves, and to them put an ounce of sense, and half an ounce of centuarie, & administer it lukewarm with an elder pipe made for the purpose; and these remedies I assure you will not only help this Fever but also many mortal and dangerous diseases also; divers other medicines are prescribed for this Fever by other authors, but the simples are so strange, and the compositions so fantastical, that for mine own part I have carried the receipts to skilful Apothecaries, who have utterly disavowd the knowledge of such simples, so that after I could never give credit to the practice. The last Fever is called the Fever accidental, because it is a Fever which comes by the violence and pain of some grievous received wound, and of all Fevers it is most common and most dangerous, for when wounds are accompanied with Fevers the horse seldom escapes death, and for mine own part I cannot boast of any great cure I have done in this case, only my rule hath been to keep the vital parts as strong as I could with comfortable drinks made of Ale, aniseeds & sugercandie, & to give him to eat half a dozen sops or toasts steeped in Muscadine, according to the form before showed in the book of running-horses, & this I assure myself (if the wound be curable) will take away the Fever: & thus much for the cure of Fevers. CHAP. 7. Of the Pestilence or Gargill. THe Pestilence howsoever other authors do seriously write both of it and the causes from whence it springs, as from labour, hunger, sudden motion after rest, surfeit, corruption of humours, corruption of air, vapours, exhalations, influence of planets and such like, yet I say (if I know the pestilence) it is plainly that which we call amongst men the plague, amongst beasts the murrain, & amongst horses the gargill, it proceeds from surfeit and raw digestion after proud keeping, engendering corrupt & poisonous humours; or else from the infection of the air, or the food whereon the horse feedeth: it is ofal diseases most infectious and mortal, and for mine own part I have had no perfect experience of it but only in young foals which are apt to take it, especially if they be waned too young, the signs to know it is, the sides of their heads even to the roots of their ears, & so down all under their chaps will swell exceedingly and be wondrous hard, their eyes & the inside of their lips willbe very yellow, and their breaths will be strong and noisome. Now you must understand that when these outward signs appear, than the disease is incurable, so that to set down therefore any cuer is a thing impossible, only this is the best prevention, to give your foals for 3. days together, both at the fall of the leaf, and the spring every morning 3. or 4. slips of savin, as is showed in the book of breeding, but if this disease happen to horses of elder age which is surest known by the loss of that horse which first dieth, than you shall separate the sound from the sick, and putting them into a fresh air after they have been let blood both in the neck veins and their mouths you shall then give each of them to drink half a pint of sack and half a pint of salad oil mingled together, the next morning after you shall give every one of them a pint of strong ale and the shavings of the yellow tips of the old stags horn, or the shavings of the yellow tip of the sea-horse tooth, both which if you cannot readily get, than you shall give them strong ale and treacle boiled together, to each a good draft, and doubt not but it will both expel and prevent the force of the infection. As for Aristoloch, Gentian, Myrrh; and such like, which some prescribe to be given for this disease I do not think the authors thereof ever saw the practice, nor will I counsel any man to try them, knowing the former to be sufficient. CHAP. 8. Of the inward diseases of the head, and first of the head ach. THe head of a horse is subject to divers diseases according to the inward compositions thereof, as from the pannickle which covers the brain comes headache, rheums and mygrams, from the brain frenzy, sleeping evil, and palsies, and from the conduits of the brain come the staggers, nightmare, cramp, catarrhs and such like; but first to speak of the headache, it is a disease that most commonly pro ceedes of a choleric humour bred in the pannickle, or else of some outward cause as of a blow, of cold or ill savours, the signs thereof is only heaviness of countenance, watering of his eyes & forbearance of his food: the ever is, take either Storax or Frankinscence, and throw it upon a chafing dish and coals under the horse's nose, so that the smoke may ascend up into his head and when he is thus perfumed you shall bind to his temples the same plaster which is formerly set down for the pestilent fever, and questionless it will help him in twice or thrice applying. CHAP. 9 Of Frenzy or Madness in Horses. Madness is a fault very much incident to horses, and I have had much experience thereof, and as far as I can conjecture it proceeds only from the torment of the brain or pannickle, when they are either corrupted with naughty blood, or inflamed with the heat of poisonous humours; many other descriptions the ancient Italians make of the frenzy of a horse, saying it proceeds not from the head alone, but sometimes from the torment of the heart, liver or spleen, which a man may know by a horses bitting and tearing of his own flesh and with his feet beating upon his body; but for such mad horses as I have seen; their madness hath issued from the brain only, and the signs from whence I have gathered it have been these, they will have heavy countenances, but fiery eyes, they will beat their own heads against the walls, bite at any thing suddenly, and as they stand they will gnaw upon the manger; when they lie they will lay their forelegges over their heads, and now and then beat their heads with their legs, they will forsake all food, or if they do eat, they will snatch their meat hastily, and seldom chew it; the cure is to let them blood very much in the shackle veins to draw the humours from the upper parts, then to take half a pinteo fmilke and half a pint of salad oil mingled together, and give it him to drink three mornings together, which done other three mornings you shall take half a handful of Sage, half a handful of Mint, and half a handful of herb of grace, & boil them in a quart of white wine, till it come to a pint, then strain it hard and give it the horse to drink lukewarm, and during these six days let him be fed with bread made of beans and rye, but by no means let him have so much as he will eat, let him also drink no cold water, and let his stable be kept exceeding dark and warm; if for this disease you give him to drink man's ordure and wine mixed together it is very good, or to chafe all his body over with black Elleborus boiled in vinegar is good also, especially to chafe his head and temples, as for gelding him, or burning him upon the head with hot irons, I like it not, for it is against rule, & to a horse of good temper will bring madness. CHAP. 10. Of the sleeping evil or lethargy. THis sleeping evil or lethargy in a horse proceedeth of cold phlegm & moisture about the brain, dulling the senses & bringing a drowsy heaviness over the whole body, the signs is only his continual sleeping, from which with great industry he will hardly be reclaimed, the cure there of is thus, first let him be kept waking with noises and affrig his when there he will or no, then let him blood in the neck vein and give him to drink water wherein is boiled Sage, Camomile and motherwort, and mingling with it Salt, Vinegar, and wheat bran, after he hath drunk this, three morningstogether, you shall then perfume him by blowing into his nostrils the powder of strong Tobacco well dried, and you shall chafe his head with Time and Pennitiall sodden together in vinegar; also to burn brimstone under his nose is very good, and in his provender to give him hempseed is very good, and in his oats you shall put fennel seeds, and parsley seeds, many other medicines there are but none more effectual than these already named. CHAP. 11. Of a horse that is taken. AHorse that is taken our common Farriers say to be planet struck, and to be as it were lamed or benumbed of his senses by some supernatural influence and therefore hold it altogether uncurable, but they are deceived, for a horse is said to be taken when he is suddenly deprived of his feeling and moving, and it proceedeth sometimes from the imperfection of the brain when it is either oppressed in the hinder part, (from whence the great main sinew of the whole body goes) with too much phlegm or too much choler, but most generally & oft nest it cometh by some extreme or sudden cold which after some great heat striking into the veins overcometh all natural heat and brings insensibleness. The signs are numbnes & want of motion, and the cure is thus, first you shall give him the scouring of butter and garlic as is showed before in the book of hunting horses, than you shall take Aqua vitae, and being warmed upon a chafing dish and coals, let two or three grooms chase and rub him therewith over all his body, which done lap clothes made most exceeding hot round about him, and letting him have good store of litter force him into a sweat; after he hath sweat an hour or there about, more derately bate his clothes and then anoint him all over with oil debay, and it is not to be doubted but he will recover his former feeling; Some of our ancient Farriers in this case have laid the horse all save the head in a soft dunghill till warmth & sense come into the horses limbs, and it is not contrary to the cure, yet I have found it better by much for the convulsion of sinews or cramps then for this disease, and nothing near so good as the former remedy. If your horse when he is thus taken be lean, poor, and faint, than it shall be good for you to give him to drink every morning a pint of Malmsey brewed with the powder of sugar, cinnamon and cloves, and warmed upon the fire, his diet during the cure would be thin, his provender oats, and his drink warm water. CHAP. 12 Of the staggers. THe Staggers is a dizines in the head, proceeding from corrupt blood, and gross humours poisoning the brain, by which many times it driveth a horse into frenzy and madness. The signs thereof is heaviness of head and countenance dimness of sight, forsaking of his meat, & staggering and reeling as he goes, and sometimes falling down and beating of his head piteously against the walls, manger and plaunchers, wherein is to be noted that when he only reeleth the disease is easy to be cured, but if he fall and grow mad than the cure is almost desperate, how ever thus you shall endeavour to cure it. First you shall let him blood in the temple veins, and then you shall take four spoonfuls of Aqua vitae, and as much of the juice of garlic and mixing them together warm them upon the fire, & therewith chafe all the horses forehead, and the nap of his neck, then take two little round balls of flax or soft tow, and dipping them therein, stop them into the horses ears, then with a needle and a thread stitch the tips of his ears together, and do thus for 3. mornings together and the cure willbe perfected, yet during the cure let him drink no cold water but warm mashes of water and ground malt, & let him once a day be walked up and down gently. There be some Farriers (and myself have often used it) do cut the horse in the forehead, upon the rump, and in the nape of the neck and to taint the places with turpentine and salad oil, or for want of oil with hog's grease but when I found how much the first receipt went beyond this, I left the practice thereof, and the rather because it was foul and tedious. CHAP. 13. Of the falling evil, or falling sickness. THis disease of the falling evil I have more read of in old Italian authors and heard more talked upon, by gentlemen trained up to horssemanship in those countries, them either seen or taken notice of for I have not in all the disea says I have known, seen any I could compare unto it, so that what I write thereof is other men's opinions; not my practice, for I think a man may live in England Nestor's years before he see a horse fall into such an evil. but to proceed to the disease, Absirtus saith it is an infirmity like a convultion or cramp, taking from a horse at certain times all sense and feeling, making him fall down and lose the benefit of all his senses; Vigetius saith the moon is a great workemistris in this disease, in so much that a horse at sometimes of the moon will fall down and be to outward appearance dead, then on a sudden again rise to his meat and eat; the signs thereof are his falling down suddenly through the weakness of his members and distension of sinews; the quivering of his body and foaming at his mouth; if the grissel of his nose be cold, it is a sign he will fall often, if it be warm, he will fall more seldom, the cure according to the Italians is first to let him blood in the neck veins, and the temple veins, then keeping him warm to anoint his body all over with the oil Petrolium, & his head & ears with oil de-bay, liquid pitch and tar mingled together, and to put some into his ears also, them by making him a canvas cap quilted with wool to keep his head exceeding warm and then to give him this drink, take of Radish roots two ounces, of the herb Panap and of Scamony of each one ounce, beat them together and boil them in a quart of honey, and as oft as it is needful give him a spoonful or two of it in a quart of ale lukewarm, and put thereunto three or four spoonfuls of salad oil, it is also good to blow the powder of motherwort and pirethrum up into his nostrils, and if this help not then to let out the humour by piercing the skin of his forehead with a hot iron in many places. CHAP. 14. Of the Apoplexy and Palsy. THis Apoplexy differeth in outward appearance nothing from the falling evil, for it is a depriving of the whole body offence and moving, but if it deprive but part of the body, or but one member than it is called a palsy; it differeth from the falling evil but only in this, that the falling evil is a disease proceeding generally from the sickness of the whole body, this only from the distemperature of the brain where gross and phlegmy humours are cropen in betwixt the pannackle and the brain, but for mine own part I have never seen in horses this Apoplexy, nor do I hold it a disease incident unto them, but that ancient horsemen seeing other diseases more violent at one time then an other, or in one horse more than an other, have out of the ripeness of their wits given to such passions new names of diseases; as when a horse having but only the staggers, hath fallen down and (as ordinarily they will do) lain for a little space as if he had been dead, they have presently conjectured it to be the falling sickness or Apoplexy, by which titles a man may very properly at any time term the staggers. Now for the palsy that I have oft seen, and it is muchincidentto horses, chiefly to hunting horses in their first training, or to running horses that come after tender keeping to take so den heats & colds in hunting: the signs are, they will hold their necks awry, go groveling, sidelong and reeling, they will have most feeble legs and painful heads, which they will show by shaking it, yet notwithstanding they will eat their meat with all greediness. The cure is first anoint them all over their bodies with the oil Petrolium, then with splints of wood bind the neck strait, and making his stable very warm give him this drink, take half an ounce of long pepper beaten to powder▪ of Cedar two ounces, of Nitre an ounce, of Lacerpitium as much as a bean, and give it him to drink in a quart of white wine, each morning a pint for two mornings together and it will ease the palsy. CHAP. 15. Of the witch or nightmare. THis disease happeneth oft unto horses, and foolish smiths think such horses are ridden with the witch and that the disease is supernatural and therefore some of them go about to cure it by hanging a naked sword over the horse all night as if it would scar the devil, other seek to ever it by charms and night-spelles such as Master Blundevile for laughter sake repeats in his book which is to take a flint stone that naturally hath a hole in it, and hang it over the horse and write in a bill. In nomine patris etc. Saint George our Lady's knight He walked day so did he night Until he her found He her beat and he her bound Till truly her troth she him plight That she would not come within the night There as Saint George our Lady's knight Named was three times. Saint George And to hang this over the horse also. This babble I know at this day is used of many ignorant smiths to cozen men of money, but to speak of the truth of the disease indeed, though some hold there is no such infirmity, yet I know by experience it is otherwise, for it is a passion of the stomach which being cloyed with crudity and raw digestion stoppeth the powers of the body and makes the horse for want of breath in his sleep to struggle and strive most violently, the signs thereof are, you shall in the morning when you come to your horse find him all of an exceeding great sweat, and if the passion have gone from him but a little before, you shall perceive him to breath very short and his flank will beat very fast; Now for as much as horses that are newly taken from grass, or horses that have been gross & foully fed, are subject to much sweeting in the night, you are to have great respect to the state of the horses body, and if when your horse is clean of body, or if more one night than another you find him thus extraordinarielie to sweat, you may assure yourself of this disease. The ever whereof is, give him two mornings together a pint● of sack, half a pint of salad oil, and two ounces of sugercandie mingled together and it will purge him clear of the infirmity. CHAP. 16. Of Cramps or Co●vultions, of Sinews, or Muskelles. Cramps or convulsions of Sinews or muscles are violent contractions or drawings together of members, either universally about the whole body, or particularly as in one member, they proceed either from causes natural, or cau ses accidental, if from causes natural, than they come from fullness or emptiness, from fullness, as from surfeit of meat or drink, or the want of vacuation of humours, from emtinesse as from too much blood-letting, too much purging, or too much labouring, all which fills the hollowness of the sinews with cold windy vapours which are the only great causes of convultions, if they come from causes accidental, than it is from some received wound where a sinew is but half cut a sunder, or but pricked, which presently causeth a convultion over the whole body, the signs of the general disease is, the horse will carry his neck stiff & not be able to stir it, his back will rise up like the back of a camel or bend of a bow his rump will shrink inward, his four legs will stand close together, and his belly will be clung up to his backbone, being down he is not able to rise, esdecially upon his hinder loins, of this disease I have had experience to my full contentment, & the ever is thus. First put him into a sweat, either by burying him all save the head in a dunghill, or else by applying hot blankets doobled about ecah side of his heart and body, then after his sweat anoint all his body over with oil Petrolium, for it is much better than either debay, or oil of cypress, then give him to drink half an ounce of Lacerpitiu● as much Cummin, aniseedes, fenegreeke and old salad oil, infused into a quart of Malmsey, then keeping him warm and feeding him with good bean bread and warm mashes made of ground mal●e and water, his Sinews will come to their former ability, but if the convultion come accidentally, as by the prick, or half cut of a sinew, than you shall search for the Syvew so pricked or cut, and with a pair of shears clip it asunder and the convultion will cease, but if it be but a cramp only, and so but in one member, then if you do but chafe or rub the member pained, with a hard wisp or a hay rope, the grief will vanish. CHAP. 17 Of the Pose or cold in the head. OF all the diseases that are incident to horses, there is none more common, or more worthy of ever then this cold or pose in the head which according as it is new or old, great or little, & as the humours do abound and are thick or thin, so is the disease of more or less danger, the signs to know it is his heaviness of head and countenance, or else by his coughing; if when he cougheth there come from his nose nothing but clean and thin water, them is his cold neither great nor old, but if upon his coughing there come any yellow or filthy thin water, them is his cold neither new nor little; therefore when you see the filth, you shall then with your hand gripe him hard about the upper part of his wessen and stop his wind compelling him to cough, and if when he is forced to cough you see any hard or thick matter come from his nose, or after he hath cough if then you see him chew as if he were eating something, which indeed is nothing but corrupt phlegm and filth which comes from his lungs, then been assured he hath as dangerous a cold as is possible, also a horse that hath such an extreme cold, if you hold your ears to his nostrils will rattle as he breathes, also if you give him any water you shall see he cannot drink, or if he do drink; the water as he drinks will come forth of his nostrils, you shall also when you put your hand between his neither chaps feel about the roots of his tongue great hard kernels and much gross matter, with many other such like signs; The ever whereof is thus, if the cold be but a pose, that is newly taken, and of no great force, so as the horse neither casteth at his nose nor cougheth often, if then you do but morning and evening ride him forth to the water and having drunk, gallop him gently a quarter of an hour together till he be warm, and so set him up in the stable, it will put away his pose in less than a weeks exercise; but if it continue and rather increase then abate, you must imagine then some, & moist humour which feedeth his cold, whereupon you shall give him the scouring of butter & garlic for three mornings together, as it is prescribed in the book of hunting horses, and after the giving you shall ride him up and down for an hour or better, and it will purge his head as aforesaid: But if his cold be of long growth and very contagious, than you shall keep his head and body very warm & give him this drink, take of strong Ale a quart, of the best treacle three ounces, of long pepper and grains as much, of the juice of garlic two spoonfuls, and boil all these together and give it reasonable hot to the horse in the morning fasting then ride him up and down for an hour and so set him up observing by no means to give him any cold water for a week at least, but if it so chance that this long grown cold be not yet come to such ripeness that either the horse cougheth, or casteth filth from his nose, (for indeed when a horse coughs the worst of his cold is passed) but it lies in his head and throat which for want of knowledge you cannot perceive, and then having instant occasion to ride some serious journey, when you are upon his back both by his heaviness and want of courage, besides the rattling in his throat which you shall plainly hear when he labours you find his impediment, you shall not for this disease slack your journey, but the first day with all gentleness & easy pace, let him bring you to your Inn, and as soon as you are lighted make him be very well rubbed and dressed, and store of litter laid under him, then immediately take a pint of very good Ceres' sack, and make it more than lukewarm in the fire, then take half a pint of salad oil or for want thereof half a pint of sweet butter melted, then brew the sack and it together, and give it warm to the horse with a horn; then bind a Coverlet or Blanket about the horse and let him stand upon the bridle for an hour after, at which time come to him and tie him so as he may lie down at pleasure, then lock the stable door and let no body trouble him for three or four hours after, for he will grow extreme sick and so that if you did see him you would think him at the point of death, when you are disposed to go to bed, go to your horse and if you find him laid along very sick respect it not but making the manger clean put therein half a peck of clean oats, and three pennyworth of bread broken small, and a pennyworth or two of hay and so leave him till morning, and be sure by morning he will not only have eaten up his meat but be as cheerful as ever he was in his life, and you shall see his cold break away abundantly, and if you keep him warm and suffer him to take no new cold, be sure the old will waste quite away with his travel; as for the perfuming him with Frankinscence, or with Peniryall and Sage boiled together, or tickling him with goose feathers and oil de-bay, or with a clout anointed with soap by thrusting them up into his nose, only to make the horse sneare or neese, you may save that labour for it is of little purpose, although our common Farriers use it, but if you will when you give him any provender sprinkle a little fenugreek and aniseedes amongst it for three or four days together it will not be amiss; And also ever observe that if your horse be very lean which hath this cold that then with your sack and oil, you mix at least two ounces of sugercandie beaten to powder. CHAP. 18. Of the diseases of the eyes, and first of the waterish or weeping eyes. WAtterish eyes proceed ever either from rheumatic and moist humours, or else from some stripe or blow either with rod, whip, or such like. And the cure is, first let him blood upon his eieveines, then take Pitch, Mastic, and rossen of each like quantity and melting them together spread it with a stick all over the temples of his head, then lay flocks as near as you can of the horses colour upon it and make it lie like a plaster fast and flat to his head: then every morning wash his eyes with white wine, and put into them the powder of Pomy-stone & some Tartarum mixed with life honey, and you shall perceive as the humour doth decrease, so the plaster will loosen and fall away. CHAP. 19 Of bloodshotten whether they come by blows, itching, rubbing or such like. I Have for mine own part seen none of our best Farriers use any other medicine for this grief then old Martin's water which is to take of rose water of malmsey and Fennel water, of each three spoonfuls, of Tutia as much as you may easily take up with your thumb and your finger, the powder of a dozen cloves, mingle them together, and being lukewarm, with a feather dipped therein to wash the inward part of the eye therewith. Others less cunning I have seen for this grief to wash horses eyes with white wine and the powder of Sandiver mixed together, but for mine own part I have found an other receipt much better than either the one or the other, and this it is, take the whites of a coupple of Eggs, and beat it till it come to an oil, then put to it two spoonful of rose-water, two spoonful of the juice of houseleek, and two spoonful of the water of eiebright, mix them well together, then dip therein little round plegents of Flax or Tow as big as a horses eye, and lay them upon the horses eyes, changing them as oft as they grow hard and dry, and doubt not but in two or three nights it will ever a very sore eye. CHAP. 20. Of dimness of sight, Pin, Web, Pearls or spots in the eyes. IF your horse either through fylme asker, pearl, pin, web, or any such like gross matter growing upon the ball of his eye have his sight hindered, if you ask the opinion of our best Farriers, they will bid you take of Pomies' stone, of Tartarum of sall Gemma of each like quantity and being beaten to fine powder to blow it into the horses eyes, others will bid you blow the powder of sand●voire into his eyes, others the powder of burnt Allom, of burned oyster shells, or of the black flint stone, all which are fretting and will break any film: yet for mine own part this hath been my medicine, to take of the water of eyebright three pints, and as much perfect good white wine, then to infuse therein of the powder of the Pomyes' and the black flint stone, of Tartarum, of sall Gemma, of Sandivoir, of white Copperis, and of the dry roots of Angelica of each of these two ounces, and of green Copperis four ounces, when these have been iufused together for the space of four and twenty hours; than you shall put them altogether into a limbeck & also a handful of a handful of Time, and half a handful of Penirial, distill these upon a slow fire; than you shall with the water thereof taken with a feather, anoint the ho●sse both under the eye, and aloft upon the eye lid, but by no means within the eye, and it will wear away any film whatsoever. CHAP. 21. Of the Hawe or Kyrnels within the eyes. THe Hawe is a certain hard gryssell or kernel, growing underneath the eye within the neither lid, it grows from the gross and tough humours, and will spread sometime over more than one half of the eye, and doth hinder the sight and make the eye to water, the sign is you shall visibly see it, when either the horse shows her eyes or moves his eye lids, the ever is only to cut them away in this manner, you shall with one of your fingers put up to the upper lid of the horses eye, and with your thumb put down the neither lid, so that you may lay the Hawe bare to your sight, then take a sharp needle with a third, and thrust it through the side of the Hawe, and with the third draw the Hawe from touching the eye, then take a sharp penknife and cut the grissel away almost (but not full out) to the bottom, ●ut as near the black as may be for fear of making the horse blear eyed, them wash the sore with the water, of eye-bright, with white wine or with bear and it will do well. CHAP. 22. Of Lunatic or Moon eyes. LVnatike eyes, or Moon eyes, though the ancient Italian horsemen could give no reason or signs of them; yet I know this by mine own experience, that they proceed from hot salt humours, dispersed and distilled from the brain by over riding, or other violent and extreme exercise; the signs are, he will see at sometimes of the Moon, better than at other sometimes, whence comes the name of the disease: his eyes when they are at the best will look reddish, when at the worst, red and fiery, the cure is first upon the temples of his head, you shall lay the plaster of pitch, rossen and mastic as is afore showed, then with an iron somewhat bigger than a wheate-strawe, you shall burn upon the ball of his cheeks under his eyes, on each side three holes to the bone, and anoint them daily with a little fresh butter; and if you please, you may in stead of those holes, slit the skin with a knife, and put in a rowel of leather, as shall be showed you hereafter where I speak of roweling. After the sore hath run eight or ten days, you shall heal it by taking away the rowel, & laying on the sore, a plaster made of turpentine, honey, and wax, of each like quantity boiled together, and during the time that the sore doth run, you shall twice a day put into his eye, with a feather a little life honey, and fear not the amendment. CHAP. 23 Of the Canker, ulcer, and Fistula in the eye. THis disease proceedeth from the salt humours and corruption of the blood, descending down from the head into the eye, the signs whereof are, the eye white, red and bloody, and upon the eyelids will be little angry red pimples, from whence will run a kind of lie or water which will scaled the check as it passes, and the eye itself will be full of gum and corrupt yelllow matter, the ever is, first to let him blood on that side of the neck on which the eye is sore, & then with a very small fine instrument of steel or silver, you shall search all the pimples, to see if you can find any hole or hollowness amongst them; and if you find any you shall search the depth thereof, then make a tent fit for the hole, and dip it in the water I before prescribed for the pin and web, and so put it to the bottom of the hole, every other day making the tent shorter and shorter; till the hollowness be filled but if you find no hollowness, than you shall twice a day rub the pimples with this water till they be bloody and rawc, take of Rochallome, of green Coporas, of each a quarter of a pound: of white copperas half an ounce, and boil them in somewhat more than a pint of running water till half be consumed, then take it from the fire, and when you apply it to the sore eye let it be lukewarm, and in four or five dress it will dry up the Ulcer. CHAP. 24. Of diseases belonging to the ears of a horse, and first of the lave ears, or hanging ears. THis disgrace of being laveearde, albeit it is not a pain or grief to the horse, yet it is so foul a sore both to the eye of the owner, and to every behoulder that it even drowneth and obscureth all other virtues whatsoever, it is an infirmity proceeding from nature, & it is engendered in the first creation, and although few of our Fariers either have endeavoured themselves, or know how to help it, yet such hath been mine earnestness to know the uttermost secret in that art, that by trying many conclusions, in the end I hit upon a certain cure for the same, and have within have within this little space helped sundry horses, for the sign thereof the name is sufficient, and it will plainly show it, and the cure is thus; take your horses ears and place them in such manner as you would desire they should stand, and then with two little boards or pieces of trenchers three fingers broad, having long strings knit unto them, bind the ears so fast in the places wherein they stand, that by no means or motion they may stir, then betwixt the head and the root of the ear, you shall see a great deal of wrinkled empty skin, which with your finger and your thumb you shall pull up; and then with a very sharp pair of scissors you shall clip away all the empty skin close by the head, then with a needle and a little red silk, you shall stitch the two sides of the skin close together, and then with a salve made of Turpentine, wax, deer's suet, and honey, of each like quantity melted together, heal up the sore, which done take away the splints which held up his ears, and you shall see his ears will keep the same place still as you set them without any alteration, this is as certain as the healing of a cut finger. CHAP. 25. Of the Impostume in the ear. ALL Impostumes come either from blows, bruisings, or gathering together of many gross humours in one place, and of all impostumes, there is none worse than that bred in the ear of a horse, because proceeding from the brain it many times corrups the same, the sign thereof is only the apparent show, and the cure is this, take a handful of Sorrell, and lapping it in a Burre-docke leaf lay it in hot bourning embers, and roast it as you would roast a warden, then taking it forth of the fire, & opening it, apply it as hot as is possible to the Impostume which is within the ear, shifting it every day till it hath both ripened and broke the Impostume, which the yolk of an egg, wheat flower, honey and herb of grace will do also; when it is broken and the corruption well come forth, than you may heal the sore with the salve made of Turpentine, wax, honey, and deer's suet, but if you find the horse have pain in his ear but no swelling, than you shall only stop his ear or ears, with black wool dipped into the oil of Camomile, and it will help him. CHAP. 26. Of the Poll evil or Fistula in the Neck. THis disease is an Impostumation like a Fistula, growing betwixt the ear and the poll or nape of the neck, and is bred by flemie and gross humours gathered together in that part: or else by some bruise or strain, taken either by some blow, or by some halter or necke-band, for that part of all parts about the head is most tender; this disease is most incident to cart horses, because the rudeness of clowns seldom respect where they strike, the sign thereof is the horse will carry his nose outright and his neck stiff, you shall also perceive the swelling, which in the end will break of itself, although naturally it rot more inwardly then outward; the cure is to ripen it either with roasted sorrel, or with rotten litter, or else with scalding hot hogs-grease, making him a cap to keep his neck warm: when it is almost ripe and ready to break, you shall take a small round hot iron, and thrust it from the neither side of the swelling up to the top where it is most ripe, so that the corruption may have issue downward, than you shall make a tent of dry sponge, and dipping it in hog's grease and turpentine molten together, thrust in the tent as you thrust in the iron, this tent will keep open the whole be low, than you shall lay upon the tent the plaster of wax, turpentine, and honey, and thus you shall dress him twice a day till he be whole, observing not to tent with dry sponge any longer than whilst you would keep the wound open, if you find it heal but softly, you shall take of turpentine washed in nine waters a quarter of a pound and put to it the yolk of an egg and a little english saffron and mixing them well together, tent the sore therewith till it be whole. CHAP. 27 Of the the Vives or great kernels. The Vives are certain great kernels which grow from the root of the horses ear down towards his throat, betwixt his neck and his neither chap, they are inwardly full of little white grains, like salt corns, there is no horse but hath them, only they are not painful till grosser humours resorting to that part, inflame them and make them swell; the sign is only the swelling, which is apparent, and the cure is thus, apply unto them either roasted sorrel or else a plaster of pitch & hogs-grease molten and boiled together till such time as the Kitnels rot and break and with the self same medicine also heal them again. Now for as much as our common Fariers use for this grief, with a hot iron to draw a line from the the ear to the chap, and then to cross those lines with other lines after the fashion of a raged staff, and then pulling the kernels out with a pair of pinssers to cut them away, and then only to fill the hole with salt, I would have you know it is a very foul manner of cure, and dangerous besides be he never so cunning that doth it, that part of the neck will never be so slender as it was before, nor will the marks of the hot iron ever be taken away. CHAP. 28. Of the cankerous ulcer in the nose THis disease proceedeth from salt, hot, & fretting humours occasioned by corruption of blood, kidneys, or the vessels of seed, which is so poisonous and sharp that it not only consumeth the flesh, but also (if it be not prevented) will eat through the grissel of the nose, there is nothing which sooner brings it then surfeit of raw meat or extreme cold; the signs be, you shall see much black and putrefied blood come from his nose, and sometimes yellow disiested matter which will stink vildly: The cure is, take of green Coperis and Allome a like quantity as of each a pound, of Venus' turpentine & white Coperis of each a quartern, boil them in a pottle of running water till almost half be consumed, then take it from the fire and strain it and put thereto half a pint of life honey, and a quarter of an ounce of Safron, then holding up the horse's head, with a squirt you shall squirt this confection made lukewarm into his nostrils, then let his head go down that he may throw out the filth, and after you have done thus three or four days, if then you see the matter is not so abundant as it was you shall need then but only by fastening a soft clout about a stick to dip it into the confection and thrust it up into his nose; dressing him so twice a day till the sore be whole CHAP. 29. Of bleeding at the nose. Horse's are as subject to bleed at the nose as men are, and the self same causes procure it, as when the vein which endeth in the nose is either opened or broken, by any blow or stroke upon the face, or by any violent straining of the body, as by extreme labouring when the horse is not clean, as I have seen a horse at the end of his course gush forth of bleeding, or (as I have seen) when a horse cannot dung the very straining himself hath made his nose bleed, sometimes the very buandance of blood, and pride of good keeping will make the nose bleed, but that is ever in young horses, the sign to know it from the ulcerous nose is, the blood will be clear and of a pure colour, the other black and filthy. The cure is to take clothes dipped in cold water and apply them one after another to the nape of his neck and the temples of his head and it will staunch the blood, or dig up a sodde of earth and lay it to the nape of the horses neck and it will staunch it also, but if these fail take a porringer full of his blood and boil it upon the fire till it come to a powder, then with a cane blow the powder into his nostrils and it will staunch the blood, but if your horse be much subject to bleeding and bleed often then I would have you to let him blood in the neck vein to alter the course of the blood, and stop his nostrils full of hog's dung, for that is very good to staunch blood. CHAP. 30 Of the diseases of the mouth, and first of the bloody rifts in the palate of the mouth. THis grief I have seen come divers ways as if you suffer some foolish smith to drench your horse oft and he by his rude handling (as they seldom take care) do with the cord wherewith he holds up the horse's mouth gall or fret the skin off upon his bars or roof of his mouth, then letting it pass unlooked to, the sore will fret and turn to this disease, or if your horse be used to eat rough stumpie hay which growing in whinnie grounds is full of sharp pricks and stumps, those pricks and stumps wounding and galling the palate of his mouth will make it rankle and bleed and utter forth much corruption. The cure whereof is thus, first wash the sore place with vinegar & salt till it be raw, then take honey well mixed with the powder of jet & rub it up on the sore and it will soon heal it CHAP. 31. Of the bladders or Gigges in a horse's mouth. THese Bladders or Gigges are little swellings like paps which grow upon the inside of a horses lips next to a horses great jaw teeth, they have little black heads and are so painful that they will make a horse forsake his meat; and how ever some think they come either by eating too much grass or by gross, dusty or pricking meat, yet it is not so for I have seen them in young sucking foals, the signs are the visible appearance of them, and the cure is to slit them with a small razor, and then thrusting out the corruption, to wash the sore place three or four times a day with running water reasonable warm; wherein hath formerly been boiled good store of Allome, Sage and a little honey, till it be whole. CHAP. 32. Of the Lampas. THe Lampas is a great swelling or excression of the flesh in the roof of a horses mouth, in the very first furrow adjoining to the foremost teeth which swelling as high as the teeth and sometimes over the teeth, make that the horse can neither gather up his meat well, nor chew it when it is gathered, it proceeds only from pride and abundance of blood, the signs are the visible sight thereof, and the cure is, first to put a piece of wood as big as a great rolling pin between the horses chaps, and then with a crooked iron to bourn away all the superfluous flesh, & to anoint the sore place only with salt. CHAP. 33. Of the Canker in any part of the mouth. THE Canker in the mouth is a venomous and fretting ulcer which proceedeth from the wearing of rusty bits, or from the unnatural heat either of the brain or stomach, which distilling in salt rheums into the mouth do breed raw and fretting ulcers; the signs are rawness of the mouth or tongue, blisteringes, white furringes and such like; The cure is take strong vinegar two spoonfuls, and as much of the powder of Allome as will make the vinegar thick, and with it rub the sore place three or four times a day for two or three days together till it be raw and bleed, then take a quart of running water, five ounces of Allome, of honey six spoonfuls of woodbine leaves, Sage leaves, and collobine leaves of each half a handful, boil all these together till one half be consumed, and wash the sore therewithal three of four times a day till it be whole. CHAP. 34. Of Heat in the Mouth and Lips. A Horse will have in his Mouth sometimes an extraordinary heat, when he hath no ulcer which will make him forsake his meat, and it proceedeth from the stomach, the signs whereofare, the immoderate heat of his breath, and the whiteness of his tongue, which when you perceive, the cure is, first to let him blood in the roof of his mouth, & after he hath liked and chewed off his blood a good pretty space, than you shall wash his mouth & tongue all over with vinegar and salt, and then anoint it with the syrup of Mulberries, do but thus twice a day for two or three days, and the horse will do well. CHAP. 35. Of the tongue being hurt with the Bit or Snaffle. A Canker which cometh by wearing a rusty Bit, and the hurt which comes of the rude handling of a chain bit are two contrary diseases, for the one doth impoisen, the other doth but only separate; wherefore if your horse's mouth or tongue be but only bruised or hurt with a len bit, the cure is first to wash the sore place with Allome water, and then to anoint it with life honey and english saffron well beaten and mixed together, and when you ride your horse to have a clean cloth folded about the Bit or snaffle, and to anoint it with the same salve, and this you shall do twice a day till the sore be whole, to chop the leaves of a black bramble and swine's lard together, and binding it in a fine cloth, then dipping it in honey and anointing the horses tongue therewith, as some of our Smiths do is good, but nothing near so speedy a medicine. CHAP. 36. Of the Barbbs or Paps under a horses tongue. EVery horse naturally hath upon his neither chaps under his tongue two long warts like paps, which we call Barbs, which how ever some horsemen do hold will hurt a Horse, yet for mine own part. I could never perceive it in all my practice, nor would I have them taken away▪ yet if any one, either out of strong belief in the pain, or out of curiosity or will, will have them taken away (as I have seen & smiled at many that would) you shall not (as our common Smiths do) clip them away with a pair of shears, for there doth follow them such flux of blood that in so doing I have seen them put beyond their skiles how to staunch them, but the cure is to hold up the tongue, and taking hold of the barb with a small pair of mullets, with a fine iron made of purpose to fear them away; and then to anoint them with the oil of bitter All●ons, till they be whole. CHAP. 37. Of pain in the Teeth, and of the wolves. Pain in a horses teeth cometh either from pride and corruption of blood, or else from cold rhums, if from blood, the sign is, his gooms will swell, and have as it were, blebbes about them, if from rheum, he will continually slaver and that which cometh from him will be thin and waterish, the cure is, with a sharp knife to raze him alongst his gums, close under his teeth, both of the inside and outside: and then to rub them all over, either with pepper & salt well mingled together, or with claret wine and pepper heated upon the fire, or else with chalk and vinegar, or after they are washed, to strew upon them the powder of pomegranate pills: Now for the wolves which are two sharp teeth more than nature allows, growing out of the upper jaws, next to the great teeth, which pricketh the neether chap so that the horse is not able to eat his meat: although for mine own part I have not see●e such an unnatural accident, yet if you be acertaind thereof, you may if you will use old Martin's medicine which is, after the horses head is tie to a post, and his mouth opened so as you may look therein, to have a long instrument of iron made like a Carpenters gouge, and setting the edge thereof close to the bottomme of the tooth by the gum, and with a mallet in your other hand to give a good knock upon the instrument, which not only entering into the tooth, but also loosening it and setting it awry, you shall then by holding the instrument firm and hard still and resting it upon the chap of the horse, wrest the tooth out of his head, and then putting salt into the hole, close it up, but in my conceit it were a much better and more safer cure, if (when your horses mouth is opened) you find the horses teeth to be very extraordinarily sharp, that then you take a long sharp file made for the purpose and therewith reasonably to blunt all his jaw teeth, for that would bring your horse ease without any unnatural torment. CHAP. 38. Of the Crick in the Neck. THe Crick in the neck is a kind of convultion or soreness of the sinews, it cometh either by the over loading of a horse upon the fore shoulders, by some great cold taking or when a horse hath lain with his neck awry, as either over the gruppe-tree behind the planchers, or in the field over some mole hill, or in some hollow furrow, the signs are, a horse can sometimes not stir his neck any way some times but one way, and from these Crickes many times come Fevers and other inward sickness. The ever is, not according to the opinion of old Martin draw him alongst each side of the neck from the root of the ear to the breast a straw breadth deep, and then to put a rowel in his forehead, anointing it with hogs-grease, for it is gross & savours nothing of good art; but you shall first purge the horse with the scouring of butter and garlic, & then holding a pan of coals under him you shall all to chafe the nape of his neck, the temples of his head and his whole neck with sack and the oil of Cypress mixed together and made hot upon a chafingdish and coals; then cloth him up warm and ride him in some warm place gently for an hour and more, this if you do three or four days, assuredly the Crick will vanish. CHAP. 39 Of Wens in the neck. Wens are great or little round swellings like tumours or pustules, only there is not in them any inflammation or soreness, their insides are tough and spongy, yet in colour yellow like resed bacon, they proceed from corruption of blood & cold humours and the ever is thus, first apply unto it roasted sorrel or the plaster of Pitch and Hogs-grease mixed together for the space of seven days to see if you can bring it to a head or rottenness, which if it do, than you shall lance it and after the filth is come forth you shall heal the wound, with the salve made of Turpentine, wax, and Dear suet; But if by no means it will come to any head or rottenness, than you shall over night apply round about the wen Bole-armonike and vinegar mixed together; then the next morning, after you have set fresh butter to boil upon the fire, and put a calterising iron in the fire also, you shall then take off the plasters and the horse being fast held first you shall first with a razor and warm water shave all the hair from the wen, than you shall note how the veins run, that as near as you can you may miss them, then with an incision knife you shall cut the wen clean away, and with sponges taking away the blood leave not any part of the yellow substance, which done you shall calterize the sore with scalding hot butter, but if that will not stay the flux of blood, you shall then calterise the heads of those veins which bleed most with the hot Iron; then making a plegant of soft to we as broad as the sore dip it in fresh butter molten very hot and lay it upon the sore, then cover it over with the plaster of wax, turpentine, and deer's suet, and so let not the sore be stirred for eight and forty hours, then upon the second dressing if you see any of the substance of the wen be left uncut away you shall then take hogs-grease and vardigrease molten together and with it dress the sore, till it have eaten away all the gross matter, and then heal up the sore with the salve before prescribed CHAP. 40. Of Swelling in the neck after blood-letting. SWelling after-blood letting proceeds from divers causes as if the Orifice be made too great and so the subtle wind strike suddenly into the wound, or if presently after a horse is let blood, you turn him to grass, and so by thrusting down his head too soove to eat his meat, the blood revert back and fester about the wound, or if the smith be negligent and strike him with a rusty or venom phlegm; The cure whereof is thus, you shall take wheat flower two or three handful, as much sheep's suet shreaded small and as much Camomile shredded small likewise, boil them altogether in three pints of new milk till they be very thick, then take it very hot and lay it unto his neck, this pultis will in once or twice laying to, either dissolve the humour or draw it to a head, and break it, which if it do then you shall heal up the sore with a little Turpentine, Wax and Hogs-grease molten together & made into a soft salve some Farrier's use to break the sore with the oil of camomile or with old rotten litter, or with wet hay and then to taint it with Turpentine and hogs-grease only till it be whole, but it is not so good a cuer, for it willbe both longer in ripening, & when it is broken the tainting will bring down such a flux of humours that I have oft seen such sores turn to Fistulas, which had they been but ordinarily dealt withal nature itself would have cured. CHAP. 41. Of staunching of blood whether it come by blood-letting, or by any wound received. IF either by disorderly blood-letting, as when the vein is stricken clean thorough, or the orifice by the unstaidnes of the Farrier's hand, is made too great, or if by any casuallyty a horse receive a wound amongst the principal veins, so that the flux of blood will not be stayed (for as touching that opinion that the vein will not be stopped which is struck when the sign is in that part, it is both idle and frivolous) the cure thereof is thus, take bole-armonike and vinegar and mixing them thick together dip flax therein, & lay it to the wound & it will staunch the blood a sod of new earth laid to the wound will staunch blood also, hot horse dung being applied will do the like, or if you temper with the dung chalk & vinegar it is good also, yet to apply any of these medicines in case of any sore or grievous wound they are dangerous for making the wound gangrean so that I allow the powder of blood to be much better than any of them, but if it fail in extremity to work the effect you desire, you shall then garter or bind your horse very strait above both his foreknees, & also under his foreknees, above both his hinder cambrelles and under the spavin joints you shall then draw a surcingle very straight about his body also, and so letting him but stand a little space you shall presently see his blood staunch which assoon as it doth you shall apply to the wound salad oil & hog's grease molten together boiling hot, and then unbinding him let him abide with that dressing the space of 48. hours at the least, and then you shall not need to fear any more the flux of blood. CHAP. 42. Of the falling of the Crest. THe falling of the Crest is when the Crest or upper part of the neck on which the mane groweth (which naturally should stand up strong & firmly) doth either lain to the one or other side, or else falleth flat down and lieth in a most uncomely manner upon the neck, it proceedeth from 2. causes, either old age or poverty of flesh, and the cure thereof is thus, first if it proceed but from poverty of flesh & be not ut terly fallen down but leaning to one side, you shall then plat into his mane certain weights of such a sufficient poise as may either draw the Crest up strait, or else make it lean to that side from whence it swerveth, and then feeding him up with good meat, & much change of meat be assured that assoon as he is fat his Crest will stand up strait, but if it be so utterly fallen down that no fatness or feeding will recover it you shall then hang the weights as is before said, and then on the contrary side with a hot Iron made better than a quarter of an inch broad draw 3. lines thorough the skin and no more, the first at the bottom of the Crest close to the setting on upon the neck, the second in the midway between the bottom of the Crest and the roots of the mane, and the third as near the edge of the mane as may be, which lines will present this figure, than you shall daily till the skin be whole again, anoint the sore with warm salad oil or else the cream of butter, and upon that side which your weights hang, you shall anoint the neck of the horse in that place where the Crest is fallen with the oil of Spike and the oil Petrolium mixed together and made warm upon the fire and it will straighten the skin and make the Crest stand up firm again. CHAP. 43. Of the Manginesses or scab within the mane. THis Manginesses in the mane cometh from divers causes, as from corruption of blood abundance of hot humours, or want of food, sometimes from lowsines, want of claine, or from the infection of other horses which have the same infirmity, the signs are, an apparent white scurf or dry scab which will rise continually from his mane & sometimes bring forth matter, or else an extreme itch and incessant rubbing or a desire to stand knapping with other horses, the cure is thus, take of nerve-oil half a pound, of quicksilver a quarter of an ounce and beat them together with great labour till you be sure that you have killed the quicksilver, and brought the nerve-oil which was of a dark green colour to be of a pale yellowish colour, then take of brimstone an ounce beaten to powder & mix it with the nerve-oil then if it appear somewhat thick and stiff you shall bring it again to a liquid ointment by mixing with them a quarter of a pint of rape oil or train-oil when you have made this ointment, you shall then take an instrument of Iron made for the purpose, and with it scrape all the scabs and scurf clean away making the sore bleed and look raw, then take a little old piss boiled with the powder of jest, and first wash the sore therewith, then with the ointment anoint it all over, holding a fire shovel heated red hot over the main, that the ointment may melt and sink into the sore place, and doing thus but three or four times the horse will be whole. CHAP. 44. Of shedding the hair from the main or tail THere be two causes which makes a Horse shed his hair from his main or tail, the one is poverty or misliking, the other a certain little worm engendered by corrupt blood, which eating the roots of the hair makes it fall and waste, the cure is thus, you shall take of the fine ashes of ashwood, half a peck, and as much, of soap ashes, when the soap boiler hath done with them, and putting them into a vessel, fill it up with running water, and let it stand the space of three days, then drain the water clean from the ashes, as you see salt peter men do, and with that water wash the horses main and tail twice a day, and after each washing, anoint the bottom of his hair with soap, and the hair will be fixed. CHAP. 45. Of the swelling of the Withers, either by pinching, or galling with an ill saddle or otherwise. THere is no outward part of a horse, more tender or subject to ●wellings, bruisings, blisterings, and other infirmities, than the Withers of a horse, sometimes proceeding from inward corrupt hmours and sometime from outward casualties, as from naughty saddles and too heavy burdens, if it be so that you see the swelling is but little or of sleight moment, you shall then but only clap a little rotten litter upon it, & it will either assuage it presently or bring it to a head and break it, and if it break and run, you shall need do no more but heat a little butter very hot in a saucer, and pour it upon it, and then mending the saddle where it did pinch, his Withers will soon be whole. Some Fariers' use in this case of swelling, to make a poultus of meadows and smallage boiled till they be soft, and then mix with it either hog's grease, salad oil, or fresh butter, and so to apply it very ●ot to the swelling, now whereas some use to prick● o● scarify the swelling with the point of a sharp knife, that by all means possible I disallow, for it both draws to the swelling naughty humours, and also breeds inflammation and putrefaction where else none would be: Now if there be no swelling but only that the skin is fridgd off, you may dry up that either with a little thick cream and the soot of a chimney mixed well together, and therewithal to anoint & dry up the raw place, or else by taking half a a pint of honey, and blending with it as much unsleakt lime as will make it as thick as past, then making it in a thin cake lay it upon a ●le stone over a hot fire till it be so dry that you may beat it to powder, then casting that powder upon any unskinde part, it will presently bring on the skin again, as for oyster shells, cloth, ●elt, silk, myrrh, or such like to be burnt, they are nothing near so good, although none of them but in time will dry and skin a sore. CHAP. 32. Of great Impostumations in a horses Withers. IF a horse either by too negligent a sufferance or by some most violent torment, have his Withers so extremely pinched or brusd, that their follows not only swellings of great quantity, but also great inflammations and putrefactions, than you are with regard to respect the cure thereof, because if the tender grissel which is upon the top of the shoulder blade, should either be crushed or tainted, there many times followeth cankerous sores and fistulating, which to prevent, as soon as you have with applying either rotten litter or wet hay to the swelling made it ripe and rotten, which you shall perceive by the softness, you shall then with a sharp razor slit the swelling downward, even to the very bottom thereof, and so let out the corruption. There be some Fariers, which before they open the sore, will with a hot iron cross the swelling divers ways according to this figure. and then thrust an other hot Iron clean thorough the sore, and so let out the matter, but it is a very vild manner of cure, & makes an ugly eye sore never to be cured; for the nature of an incision by fire is, toseperate & divide the skin in such sort that it can never be brought together again but the seams thereof will be both hard and apparent for ever after, beside the fire is so attractive that the much use thereof doth draw down to the weak part such confluence of humours that the grief is made much worse than it would be; wherefore when you have opened the sore as is before said with a razor you shall then but only apply unto it plegantes of flax dipped in hot fresh butter, and lay clean over the swelling a plaster made of Wax, Turpentine, deer's suet and a little rossen, renewing them once a day till the sore be healed: But if these swellings will not putrefy, but only continue in one state, and rather grow hard then tender, in this case I would have you with an iustrument made for the purpose, to thrust a great thick rowel of horse hair quite thorough the swelling, even from the nethermost part to the uppermost of the swelling, and twice a day to turn the row ell about, and either to anoint it with fresh buttrr, or Venus' turpentine, till the swelling be clean gone, & then to take away the rowel and to heal the two orrifices with fresh butter and oatmeal mixed together. CHAP. 47. Of hard horns knobs and sitfasts growing under the saddle. These horns or knobs, which grow upon a horses back under the saddle, are called of our horsemen here in England sitfasts, which how ever the Italians do make differences of them, either because of the several places wherein they grow, as when they grow opposite against a rib, or else between two ribs, yet the truth is they are but all one thing, & proceed all from one self like cause, as from some old pinch w●h a saddle where the swelling doth not rot but falling again, yet retaineth betwixt the skin and the flesh, a certain unnatural hard Substance, so that under your hand the skin willbe hard as a board, and in time nature itself will corrupt and drive it forth, the ever of these sit-fasts are thus, first with a sharp knife slit the skin through close by the edge of the sit-fast, and as soon as you have raised it up take a nail and file the point very sharp then bowing it crooked like a hook, with it take hold of the sit-fast and root it clean forth as far as you feel it hard, then if you see that the sitfast have not eaten any depth into the flesh, but even the thickness of the skin only, then after it is cut forth you shall anoint the place with cream and soot mixed together till it be whole, but if it have eaten into the flesh and that their be any matter under the hardness than you shall make a plaster of Turpentine, wax deer's suet and english Saffron mixed together, of each of them an equal quantity except the Saffron and of it a quarter as much as of the rest, and after you have washed the sore place with man's urine then lay on the plaster and renew it once a day till the sore be whole CHAP. 48. Of the Navel gall Navel gall is a foul bruise taken by the sitting down of the hinder part of the saddle upon the horses back, and it is called Navell-gall, because the crush is upon the sign just opposite against the horse's navel, it oftest comes by the carriage of cloke-bagges, portmantuaes, or such like weights behind, it is by most of our common Farriers held altogether incurable, because most commonly it breaketh not forth very apparently till it be full of dead flesh, which being a Spongy & cankerous substance, doth in time corrupt & putryfie the chynebone, or turn to a Fistula, which in that part is mortal. The cure thereof is thus, first with your crooked nail take hold of the dead flesh, and with a Razor cut it clean out, leaving no part of it behind, and making the wound plain, and without hollowness, then take of Hogs-grease finely rendered, & of Turpentine washed of each like quantity, then melt them together, and being exceeding hot, dip a pleagant of Flax into it, & so fill up the sore, then lay upon it a plaster of Wax, Resin, and Turpentine mixed together, and after you have dressed him thus for two days, if then you perceive any dead or proud flesh begin to grow in it again, than you shall take of an ounce of Turpentine, a quarter of a pint of Honey, and an ounce of verdigris beaten to powder, and boil them upon the fire a good while together, and lay it upon the sore plaster wise, renewing it once a day till the Ulcer be brought to skinning, then dry it up, and skin it either with Cream and Soot, or with the powder of Honey and Lime. Of the swaying of the back. Chap. 49. THere be a multitude of mischances, which occasion, the swaying of the back, as strainings either in riding, running, or leaping, overburthening either by mischance or negligence, and the signs thereof are these, the Horse will in his going reel and folder, and his hinder parts will not go in one furrow with his foreparts, when he is down, he will have much ado to rise, and when he is up, it is painful to him to lie down. The cure thereof is diversly handled, according to the opinion of Farriers, some imitating the Method prescribed by Martin, as by laying a hot sheepskin new taken from the sheep to the Horses back, suffering it to lie till it smell, & then to renew it: others, by scorching the horse overthwart the back with a hot Iron Checkerwise, and then to lay on a change made thus: Take of Pitch a pound, of Resin half a pound, of Bolarmonack, made in powder half a pound, and of Tar half a pint, boil all these in a pot together, till they be well incorporated, then being lukewarm, daub it upon the Horses back, and lay Flax upon it, suffering it to rest till it fall off by it own accord, both these Medicines I have myself oft used. But have found them not to avail, wherefore the only cure that ever I found for this grief is this, Take of Tar half a pint, of Turpentine four ounces, of the Oil of Swallows, & the Oil of Mandrake, of each six ounces, mix these together, & boil them upon the fire, then anoint the Horses back therewith lukewarm, and chase it in half an hour together, holding a hot fire-pan over his back whilst you anoint him, and doing but this twice a day for nine days together, it will knit his back; provided that you let him run at grass without labour for at least two months after the cure. Of weakness in the back. Chap. 50. Unto the back is incident another weakness, besides these strainings, which proceedeth not from any casualty or mischance, but only from the confluence and flux of moist and cold humours which be numbed, and dull the vital parts of the back, bringing the horse to such a weakness, that he many times falls down flat to the ground, and cannot rise again. Our best Farriers call it the fretting of the reins, & hold it generally to be mortal; For mine own part I have not seen the disease above twice, & my cure thereof is thus, Take of Venice-Turpentine, and after you have washed it well, take just so much of Honey and mixed with it, beating them very well together, then take as much refined Sugar beaten to powder, as will make it as thick as Paste, than roll it in round Balls, as big as a little Walnut, and covering them over with sweet Butter, give him every morning for five mornings together three of those Balls, and it will restore and strengthen his back. Of Hidebound. Chap. 51 Hydebound is when a Horse's skin is so strained and bound unto his bones, that a Man can with no possible strength pull it up with his hands, it proceedeth only from the weakness of the body, and poverty of flesh, the signs to know it, is the handling of the Horse, his leanness, and the clinging up of his belly to the Chine of his back. The cure (although many of our best Farriers make it very curious, and have sundry drenches and drinks to little purpose) is of all other cures most easy, for you shall no more but let him blood in his neck vein, & for a month following, ●eed him with nothing but sweet Hay, and boiled Barley, having care that you boil not so much together, but that your Horse may eat it whilst it is sweet, and fear not the looseness of his skin, nor the swelling of his flesh with fatness. Of the Strangle or Glanders, or the mourning of the Chine. Chap. 52. THe Strangle is a disease for the most part incident to foals or young Colts, and sometimes to Horses of elder age, it is a flux or engendering together of many humours about the roots of the tongue, between the two neither chaps, inflaming & impostumating those Kernels which naturally grow about the roots of the tongue, which kernels are called Glandes', from whence some Farriers suppose the name of Glanders came first, and I am of that mind also. For betwixt the Strangle and the Glanders, is but this difference, that when those kernels do swell and impostumate outwardly, that is to say, when they ri●e between his Chaps like a huge Bile, so that they hinder a Horse from swallowing his meat, and as it were strangle and Choke him with tough and undissolved matter, and in the end breaks outwardly forth like an ordinary impostunation, and so vanisheth, than we call it but the strangle, but if it do not break outwardly, but that the inflammation & Impostumation exulcerates inward, and so like a foul Fistula avoids all the foul matter at the Horse's Nostrils, than we call it the Glanders, and it is a much harder cure. But that the Strangle should be, as some of our English Authors suppose, the same disease which we call the Squinancy, or Quinsy, I cannot imagine it, for it hath no semblance of such an infirmity, only I take the Vives to besomewhat a kin to that sickness. Now for the Strangle, it proceedeth either of cold and raw digestion, as that which is in foals; or else of some sudden cold taken, and lingering without remedy, in a Horse groweth in the end ●o this evil▪ The cure of the strangle is thus, assoon as you perceive the swelling to rise, you shall take a wax candle, and holding it under the horses chaps close to the swelling, burn it so long, till you see the skin be burnt through, so that you may scarify it, and raise it from the flesh, which done, you shall take a broad piece of leather and spread thereupon a good thick quantity of black shoemakers wax, and lay it upon the sore, and it will not only break the fore, but heal it also; but if either by some extreme cold, or other disorder in keeping this disease break inward, and so turn to the Glanders, you shall first perfume his head with Brimston, and Frankincense mixed together, and burnt upon a chafing dish of coals, and then you shall pour into his Nostrils half a pint of salad oil, an ounce of Niter, and six spoonfuls of the juice of Leeks, and doing thus but four mornings together, it still cure any Glanders, if it have not been above half a years continuance, but if you can get the oil of Oats, and pour it into his Nostrils, i● is most certain it both cureth this disease, and the mourning of the chine also. Of the Cough, and the several kinds, Chap. 53. Coughs come either by chance or infirmitity, by chance, as by eating a feather, dust, or suchlike, & the help is, to give him a crust of hard bread and a little Water after it: if by infirmity, than it is either a Of the wet cough, dry cough, o●●otent cough. wet cough, a dry cough, or a rotten cough, if it be a wet cough, it comes only of moist rheum, and is known by the clearness of the water which comes from his nostrils, if it be dry, he avoids nothing, if it be rotten, he avoids nothing. And though every one of these have several cures, yet if for three mornings together you will but give your horse a pint of sack, half a pint of salet oil, an ounce of the oil of Anniseeds, and three ounces of Sugar-candy, it will both take away the cough, and heal any putrefaction of the lungs whatsoever. Of the shortness of breath, and the causes, Chap. 54. Shortness of breath or pursines, comes by sudden riding after a horse is filled or new fed, the sign is his panting and inability to travel, and the cure is, to give him either a coupple of new laid Eggs, shells and all, or else a pint of milk and salad oil mixed together. Of a consumption. Chap. 55. A Consumption is nothing but an exulceration or putrefaction of the lungs, and the cure is, for five mornings together to give him the same drink prescribed for the wet or dry cough. Of grief in the Breast. Chap, 56. THis disease comes by the corruption of loode, or the abundance of humours gathered together about the breast, & accasioning swelling, the cure is, to slit the swollen part, and to put in a trowel, and anoint it with a little sweet butter till the sore be whole. Of the Anticor. Chap, 57 THe Antichor is a disease proceeding of corruption of blood and spirits, it only paineth the heart, and is oft mortal; the cure whereof, is to let the horse blood, and then to give him to drink a pint of malmsey, brewed with Cinnamon, Lycras, and the shavings of ivory, for five mornings together. Of the tired horses. Chap. 58. EVery one knows both the cause and sign of this evil, the cure therefore is, to bathe his limbs with piss and salt Peter, and to give him to drink eight spoonfuls of Aquavitae, wherein hath been infused for the space of xii, hours half an ounce of strong Tobacco, and after strained. Diseases of the midriff or stomach. Chap. 59 Disease's of the my driffe or stomach, are loathing of meat, casting up of his drink, surfeits, or the hungry Loath of meat or drink or surfeits. evil; and though there be long discourses made severally of each one of them, yet this cure will help any of them when they happen, first let your horse be well aired, then wash his mouth with vinegar & salt, then give him to drink a pint of malmsey mixed with the powder of Cinnamon, Anniseeds, and Cloves, and after to give him his meat by little at once, & with good leisure between meal and meal. Of the diseases of the liver. Chap. 60. divers diseases are supposed to proceed from the Liver; but that which we most generally find, is Consumption of the liver. the consumption thereof, it cometh by the grossness of humours or inflammation of the blood, being brought to putrefaction, the signs are, dislike of meat, loss of flesh, & continually stretching out of his body, the cure is, only to pour into his Nostrils for a week together, the oil of Oats and sweet wort mixed together, & if that do not stay the corruption which comes from his nostrils the grief is incurable. Of diseases in the gall. Chap. 61. HOw ever other men imagine, yet I have not found any disease to proceed from the gall more than the Yellows, yet that it may sometimes be pained I deny not, and it is to be known by the yellowness of his water, for cure whereof, there is nothing better than the ordure of a goose, being infused in white Wine, and ginen to the horse to drink. Of diseases in the Spleen. Chap. 62. THe spleen of a Horse is troubled with no disease but a little swelling, which comes of too proud keeping: & the cure is, after you have made him sweat to give him in a pint of white wine, the leaves of the ●amariske bruised, and Cumminseede beaten to powder mixed together, and warmed upon the fire. Of the yellows. Chap. 63. THe Yellows is a disease of the gall, and it is mortal if it be not prevented, the signs are yellowness of his eyes, lips, tongue, and other parts, and the cure is, first let him blood in the palate of the mouth, & then give him to drink a pint of strong Ale, mixed with a quarter of so much of the juice of Selladine, and an ounce of Saffron lukewarm, for three mornings together. Of the Dropsy, Chap, 64. THat which is called the Dropsy in horses, cometh of raw food, and sore riding when a horse is fat; the sign is the swelling of his legs▪ and the cure is, to purge him well with milk and salad-oil, and to bathe his legs daily with Len-seed oil. Of the diseases in a horses guts, Chap. 65. THere belongs to a horses guts many diseases, as costiveness, orbely-bound, which you may cure with Costivenes, looseness, fl● and worms. any of the scour in the book of hunting, or else feebleness or looseness, which may be cured by giving him beane-flower and Tanner's bark, boiled in a quart of milk, or the bloody flux, which you may cure by giving him about a pint of Red Wine boiled with the Herb called Sheapheardes' Purse, or lastly he worms which you may kill of what kind soever they be if you give him three mornings together three slips of savin, and then to make him fast two hours after. Of pain in the kidneys. Chap, 66. The greatest disease belonging to the kidneys, is the stone, which you may cure by giving the horse to drink a quart of strong Ale, in which hath been steeped for 24 hours two pound of radish roots slit in quarters, and to give it three mornings together. Of pissing blood, and all diseases blonging to the privities. Chap. 67. To the privites of a horse belongs sundry diseases, as the pissing of blood which comes either by a strain or by over riding: the cure is, take half a pint of milk, & half a pint of white wine, & boil therein a pound of daffodil roots, & two ounces of wheat flower, & give it the horse to drink seven mornings. But if he be troubled with the Colt-evil, which is only the swelling of the yard & stones, if either you swim him in cold water, or bathe him in cold water, it will help him; if there come any putrefaction from his yard, you shall either squirt into his yard white wine and Allome mixed together, or when the horse pisses, with your hand stop his sheath & make him piss in his sheath, & it will help him. If he shed his seed, you shall wash Turpentine, and mixing it well with Sugar, make the horse every morning for a week swallow down three balls as big as a Walnut. If his yard fall and will not lie within his sheath, than you shall bathe it with vinegar and Salt, and he will draw it up, but if his cod swell only and not his yard, than you shall bathe them with vinegar & saltpeter boiled together and it will help them. Lastly, if the horse be incorded or bursten, so that his guts fall into his cod, though the Ancients talk of remedies yet I could never find any did good, only the best is to anoint his cod with May-butter and with lists made like a truss to bind his stones, close to his body. Of the botch in the groin: chap: 68 The botch in the groin of a horse comes of pride of blood or sore labour, it resembles a great bile, and is cured either with roasted sorrel, or a plaster of shoemakers wax. Of mangines in the tail. chap 69. If a horse be scabbed or mangy about the tail, the cure is first to let him blood, & then to wash his tail twice a day with old piss and copporas, boiled together, & then anointed with narve oil and quick silver beaten together till the quick silver be killed. Of pinching, splatting, or strains in the shoulder. chap. 70. The worst pinch or strains that happens to a horse, is that in the shoulder, which if at any time it chance, you shall take of oil petrolium, of oil of Cypress, and of linseede-oyle of each like quantity, and being mixed together, bathe the horses shoulder therewith, & if that take not away his halt, than put a rowel betwixt his shoulder and his breast. Of swelling of the legs. chap, 71. If your horses legs swell at any time upon any occasion, you shall bathe them, with warm train oil, and it will help them. Of foundering. chap, 72. Foundering comes by sudden heat after violent labour, the sign is the horse will stand with all his four legs together, or for the most part not stand at all, the cure is, let him blood in the neck veane, and take from him a pottle of blood; then mix with it the whites of four eggs, half a pound of bole armonicke, a pint of vinegar, & as much wheat-flower as will thicken all, then lay it upon the horses back and reins, & with long linen rags dipped therein bind his forelegs strait above his knees; then ride him two hours upon a hard pavent, then pair his feet exceeding thin, and stop them with bran & hog's grease boiled together, and his feet will be well within a week after. Of the Splent or Serew. chap. 73 A splint is so well known to all men, that it needs no description, and the Serew is the same a splint is, only it is uppou the outside of the legs, there be many cures, and myself could repeat twenty, but the surest and cleanest way is with the point of a sharp knife, to make a little hole of more than a barley corn length upon the top of the Splent, & put therein as much Arsenic as the quarter of a hazel out and in three days it will take away the splint, & then heal the sore only with sweet butter molten. Of Mallander and selander, chap, 74. A Mallander is a dry scab upon the bought of the fore-leg: and the selander upon the bought of the hinder, the cure is, after you have made them bleed to bind to them for three days black soap, and lime mixed together, & then to heal them with sweet butter again. Of an overreach upon the sinew or heel chap, 75. What overreach soever your horse chances upon, you shall to cure him, first with a sharp knife cut out the over reach as plain as may be, then washing it with bear and salt, lay upon it Oatmeal and butter mlxt together, and it will heal it. Of halting before and behind. chap, 76. If a horse halt before his grief is either in his shoulder his knee, his fetlock or his foot, if it be in his shoulder I have declared a remedy already, if in his knee or ferlocke you shall fold his legs about with ropes of wet hay, and they will help him, and if it be in his foot, pair the hoof thin, & stop it with bran and hog's grease, but if he halt behind, he is hipped or stifled, if he be hipped he is past cure, if stifled you shall either swim him in a deep water or bind up his sound leg, that he may perforce stand upon the other, and he will go upright suddenly. Of spavens. Chap. 77. Of spavens, there be two kinds, the bone spavin and the blood: for the bone spavin, you shall dress it in all things like the splint, and it will heal it. For the blood spavin you shall take up the veane, and when it hath bled we pullout the bladder which holds the spavin, and stop the wound with Sage and salt, and it will heal it. Of the curb. Chap, 78. The curb is a hard knot upon the hinder part of the Cambrel, and it is to be taken away as you take away splent. Of the pains & kibe heels. Chap. 79 These diseases are sore dried scabs, close under the Fetlocks, and the cure is to rub them till they bleed, then to wash them with piss & copporas, & anoint them with Hog's grease and strong mustard mixed together till they be whole. Of windgalles. Chap. 80. Windgalls are little blebs raised up by extreme travel on each side the horses Fetlocks, and the cure is to lay unto them the plaster of pitch; rossen, and mastic, as hath before been show'd, and it will help them. Of wrinching the neither joint. Chap, 81. If your horse get a strain in the neither joint, so that the member be big, you shall only anoint it with narve oil, and oil of Cypress, and it will take away the swelling. Of the shackel gall. Chap, 82. Shackle gall is any sore got by wearing pasterns, shackle, or other fetters, and it is to be cured by anointing the sore with fresh butter & honey together. Of the Scratches. Chap. 83. Scratches are certain wild dry scabs, growing above the Fetlocks, and are to be cured as you cure the pains. Of the Ring bone. Chap. 84. The Ringbone is a certain super fluous grissle, growing about the coronet of the horses hoof, & the cure is, to dress it in three places, that is, before and on each side with Aarsnicke as you did the splint, and after three days to heal it with sweet butter, as for the crown scab, or other hurts von the cronnet of the hoof, the use of Hogs-grease, and Mustard will heal them. Of the quitterbone, Chap, 85 The Quitterbone is a griselda growing under the hoof, it is of all diseases the vildest, and fullest of danger, yet the cure is first with Arsenic or Vardigrease, to eat away the flesh till you may see the bone, and then cut it out, and heal the sore with Turpentine, wax and butter molten together. Of gravelling and other diseases belonging to the feet. chap. 86 To the foot belongs many diseases, as gravelling, surbating, pricking, loosening the hoof, casting the hoof, hoof bound and running frush, and to them all one cure is sufficient, and that is, after the hoof is very thin pard, and all the sore places pricked and made clean, to stop the sole of the foot with Pitch, Tar, rosin, and tallow of each like quantity, and molten together, and to remove it once in three days till the hoof be well. Of the Leprosy, chap. 87 The Leprosy in a horse is when the mangines spreads over the whole body, and is to be cured as you cure the mangines in the tail. Of the Fartion. chap 88 The Fartion is a foul disease that runs in poisonous knots over all the horses body, and though there be many ways to cure it, yet this is the best; to slit half a dozenof the hardest knots which are best risen, and fill them with Arsenic, and then to anoint all the other sores with butter and the disease will heal presently. Of the Canker and Fistula chap. 89. The Fistula or Canker is a venomous fretting humour, which poisons the flesh wheresoever it goes, and the cure is first to wash or squirt the sore with alum water & coporas mixed together, then to anoint or tent the sore three days together with black soap, and after to heal it with molten butter. Of the Anbury, Chap. 90 An anbury is nothing but a spongy wart, growing upon any part of the horses body, and the cure is either to wash it with the water which stands in the root of an old Oak tree, or to tie it so strait with some of the horses hairs, that it may rot away. Gf wounds, bruisings or swellings, chap. 91. Of wounds, bruisings, swellings, or cutting of sinews, I have spoke sufficiently already, only if the horse have a wound which comes by gun-shot, you shall mix with your salve a good quantity of varnish, but if the horse be burnt with lime, than you shall add some old barm or east; if the horse be bit with a mad dog, you shall use in your salve goats dung, or the fat of hung beef. Of being shrew run. chap, 92 If your horse be shrew-runne, you shall look for a brier which grows at both ends, and draw your horse thorough it and he will be well. Of the warble or Felter. chap, 93 To kill the warble or felter, bathe your horse either in strongly, or with burnt sack and vinegar mixed together. Of stinging with suakes 94. chap, 94. Anoint the sore with salad-oil & Saffron, & ●iue the horse to drink, coaro milk and the shavings of ivery. Of eating Hens dung, chap, 95. You shall give your horse the scouring of butter & sanders To kill licc or Flies, chap, 96 Anoint the horse mith soap, quicksilver, & stavesaker mixed together, but if he be troubled with flies, them wash his body with water wherein herb of grace hath been boiled. Of broken bones, chap, 97. The best salve for broken bones is oil of mandrag, or oil of Swallows. Of taking up of veanes, chap, 98 'tis good to take up veanes for grief in the legs, as farcies, spavens or such like, or for the quitter bone, scab or Scratches, and for no other infirmities. Of glisters, chap, 99 The best glister is to boil mallows, and then to strain the water, and put to a quart of water, a pint of fresh butter, & half a pint of salad oil, & administer it warm to the horse. Purgations, chap. 100 Touching purgations to be received inwardly, look in the book of hunting, and by the name of scourings you shall find plenty. Of calteryzing, chap, 101 For Calterizing, it is never to be used, but either to stay the Flux of blood, or when incision is to be made amongst veanes or sinewess wherefore to calterize a large wound, your iron must be thin, sharp and flat, & to calterize a little orifice, it must be blunt and round, yet by how much it is the hotter by so much it is the better. Certain special receipt, chap 102, Turpentine and the powder of jet mixed together, will draw out any venom or poison from any wound whatsoever. To bathe a horse with tansy and vardivice will kill the farcie, and the water wherein the green bark of elder hath been boiled, being mixed with salad-oil, will cure the glanders. The end of the seventh book. CAVELARICE OR That part of Horse manship discovering the subtle trade of Horscorsers, together with an explanation of the excellency of a Horse's understanding, and how to make him do Tricks like Banks his Curtal, and of drawing drye-foot, and other Acts both natural and unnatural. The eight Book. AT LONDON Printed for Edward White, and are to be sold at his shop at the little North-door of Paul's, at the sign of the Gun. To the Honourable and most worthy Knight Sir Walter ASTON. SIr, how dearly I love you, and with what zeal I wish I could do you service, I would this poor tribute of my labours could give a true testimony, that then you might know what power you have in a poor Creature, but since neither it, nor any limits can bond things infinite, conceive of me according to the square of your own Noble thoughts, which I persuade myself even to apparent errors, would lend most Charitable constructions. I have in this volume darrd a bold enterprise, the rather sith there was never before this day more Champions either in perfect skill, or in strong imagination of their skill, that may easily be inflamed to rise up against me, but I have chose you for one of my honourable defenders, not that you shall stand betwixt me and my hazard, but be a means to bring me to an equal combat, for I know myself to be so safely armed with Art, experience, and the grounds of reason that I fear no malignity, but an unlawful counsel, which to prevent, those Noble Princes and yourself whom I have chosen, I hope will be my protectors, to whose mercy and gracious opinions, I prostrate me and my labours. Gervase Markham. To all the busy Horsecorsers, both of the City and Country wheresoever. Imagine not because I have discovered unto the world those secret deceits wherewith the world is hourly beguiled, that I with a more spleeny spirit do condemn you, than all other trades whatsoever: for if the Merchant will have a dark shop to make bright sulled ware: if the Shoemaker will cut Leather but half tanned, the Carpenter work his Timber half seasoned, if the Baker will not give his true weight, the Butcher will not forego his embosture of pricks, nor any trade whatsoever but will preserve to himself some disception; believe it I conclude you as good, and love you as much as any, and think it agreeable with the law of reason, that you have as much privilege as any whatsoever in this worldly Charter. But forasmuch as some (because they deceive themselves) make no conscience in deceiving others, and think the gain most honest, how ever gathered by the hand of corruption, I thought it not amiss to make myself a warrant without authority, and to lay open what with long experience, and diligent observation I have noted, and sometimes purchased at too dear a reckoning, both to fortify the honest against unconscionable practice, and to make them loathe those gross deceits, of which even Boys and Babes may detect them, which if it reap thanks from them that reap profit, I have my wish, if it offend the contrary I respect not, because they may amend their loss if they will buy with care, and sell with a good conscience. Farewell. G. M. CAVELARICE. The eight Book. CHAP. 1. Of Horsse-corsers in general. THere is not any ground, Art, science, or Handicraft, whatsoever, which hath been so exactly found out either by Nature or the power of the greatest Wisdom, but Time and men's corruptions hath poisoned them with some one or other disception; as even the very food of our souls, how is it profaned with a world of schisms; in Philosophy at this day how many Heretics; in Physic what numbers of Mount-banckes; in Astrology what false stargazers; in Music what Minstrelcie: and to conclude, in all what can man do that is virtuous, which one will not imitate in a like vizard. Hence and from this ancient knowledge of sufferance, being founded by an idle ignorant covetousness, hath sprung this deceit or impostume upon the face of Horsemanshippe which we call Horse-corsing. Now that you may know what a horsecorser is, least by mistaking mine application, I may be held to condemn those which are both honest and virtuous, you shall understand the horse-courser, whose subtle trade I discover, is he who passes from Fair to Fair, and from Market to Market, to buy lame, tired, diseased and tainted horses, and then with one deceitful trick or other, covering their imperfections, sells them again into the hands of simple men, who not perceiving the hook, swallow the bait, and are choked with most unthrifty pennyworths. Now for the honest merchant of Horses, who with all careful industry and a watchful eye buys none but such as his knowledge and judgement approves to be sound, beautiful, well bred, and fit for best employments, or for him that sells but either the superfluity of his breed, or the surcharge of his stable, and with that naked plainness that there is neither found falsehood in his oaths or boastings; these I say are as unworthy the name of, as truth unfit for the name of falsehood. Now therefore since I have given you the true character of the party whom I mean, and that you may not apply any of his vices to men of contrary disposition, I will descend unto his customs and qualities, touching his trade only. CHAP. 2. The observations which Horsecorsers hold in the choice of their horses, the deceits they use in covering their faults, and their practices in selling jades. THE horse-courser who only buys for present The Horse-coursers choice of horses. gain, & sells without either respect to men's ocasions, his own conscience, or his words reputation, doth only in choosing his horses observe these few principles, First, if he can he will have him exceeding fat, and of a fair and beautiful colour, of all which the best in the Horse-coursers eye is the fair Daple-gray, or the grey with white mane and tail; the unstained white, the bright-bay with white star, white rache, or white heel, or the Coal-black with those white marks also, for these colours, either to Courtiers, Ladies, Lawyers, Scholars, or Citizens, cover and keep many mischiefs unrevealed: Next to his colour, the horse-courser looks ever for a dainty pace, as in the ambler great ease, and in the trotter much pain and busy treading; next colour and pace, he looks to outward gross infirmity, such as lie so apparent that every one may behold them without groping, as are overgrown splints, Spavens either bone or bog, Ringbones, curbs or other excerssions, but if they be young and but newly appearing, he may speak what he will in their dispraise, but he loves the Horse not one hair the worse for his purpose; as for any inward grief, as Glanders, Consumptions, Coughs, Broken-windes, Dullness of Spirit, Restyfnes, or any mischiefs else which hath either skin or hair to cover it, he regards them not: for his return being sudden, he hath for to blind ignorant eyes, cloaks enough to conceal them, during the time he is in selling. The last thing he looks unto is price, for believe it, they ever buy flesh, colour, shape, and countenance, but they will hardly give any penny for goodness, both because the wise seller will hold it at a good rate (as it is worthy) and the horse-courser shall have no benefit, being able to make a jadeseeme equal with the best spirited: and although I will not say but a horse-courser may have a good horse, as well as a Woman that sells Mussels may have a rich Pearl amongst them, yet it is great odds to the contrary, both because he is sold at a great value, (and so not to him so commodious) and also he is never the object at which the horse-courser aims at, for 'tis beauty, shape, pace and cheapness, he desires, and then if goodness chance to come unlooked sore, the horse is so much the dearer, although the cause of such dearness stand the seller in never a penny, in which me thinks horscorsers resemble these miserable engrossers of Corn that albeit they buy grain at never so cheap a reckoning, yet in the dearness of the year, they will not abate one single Halfpenny, although it were even to the safeguard of the life of a Christian. And truly I do with more confidence write this, because I have myself oft sold unto Horsecorsers Horses, which I knew to be falty, and when I have out of a simple mind revealed the worst of my knowledge they have, even scoffed at my too much curiosity, and made no reckoning of the mischiefs, and after when they have sold them again, they have given me many thanks for their good pennyworths, & wished for many such like commodities, when I dare very well presume that I knew much better than they, or then any Horse-courser whatsoever, that such Horses were utterly past all use or service. Now therefore briefly you may see the chief aim of the Hors-courser in buying Horses, is at his beauty, or fullness of flesh, his fair colour, his shape free from gross infirmity, his clean pace, and his cheap price; to which should goodness have been coupled, doubtless the Merchandise would return little profit, for in all mine experience I never knew good Horses sold at such a cheap reckoning, that a Man might keep a family with the gains, except they came from one of these three men's hands; either a Fool that would give a Diamond for a Barley Corn, an unthrift that would lose any profit for his instant pleasure, or a Thief that to be eased of an unlawful prize, would ever be content to lose three parts of the true value. But to return to my purpose, when the Horse courser hath bought his Horse according to his fancy, and The Horse sers deceits learned as much as he can of his Chapman, touching his inward disposition; and also out of his own trials, finds the faults to which he is most addicted, (as they are questionless with great ease discerned) then presently he begins to plot stratagems in his head, how he may cloak and cover those faults, and make the Horse seem in every Man's judgement merely contrary to that to which he is naturally addicted, as thus; If he find the Horse that he hath bought to be a dull, heavy, sad jade, and that a Man can with no reasonable compulsion make him go faster than an Ass; then the horse-courser will not miss, but duly every Morning, Noon, and Night, with big long rypling slaves bestow at least an hour and more in bearing his Horse, both upon the body, sides, and Buttocks, till he make his flesh so extreme tender and sore, that even the very shake and lifting up of a stick, is enough to make the Horse mad and desperate: He will do nothing about the Horse, as either combing, dressing, turning his clothes up and down, or any thing else, but it shall be done with fury, and with strokes, he will not at any time pass by the Horse but he shall have a stroke, nor will he speak to any Man if the Horse stand near him, but even midst that conference, he will strike and torment the Horse, till he have made the Horse so fearful and desperate, that the very bitterness of a man's voice shall be able to make him leap against the Walls. This beating of Horses thus amongst Horsecorsers, is called giving them Lambe-pye, from a knavish jest of a Horsecorsers Boy, that being asked of his Master what meat he had given the Horses, made answer Lambe-pye enough Master. And truly could it feed them as well as it puts them in affright, a horse-courser might very well spare other food: for howsoever they get meat, it is most assured they never want blows. Now when they have thus beaten their Horses sound in the house, that they will start, fly, and leap against the Walls, then bringing them into the common road where the horse-courser uses to ride his Horse for the sale, which is not above forty or threescore yards in length, you shall see him no sooner set his Boy or Servant upon the Horses back, but presently ere the Boy be well settled, you shall see the horse-courser give the Horse two or three good blows upon the sides with his Cudgel, and the Boy also to augment his masters torment, will no sooner have his Leg over the Horses back, but both his Spurs shall be fast in his sides, and if the poor jade through these torments chance to whisk his tail (which is a plain sign, he doth nothing out of his free Spirit) you shall see the horse-courser give the Horse such a stroke upon the very stern of his tail, that as if he would even break it in pieces, he will make the Horse hold it so close to his Buttocks, that to the death he will not move it, which will deceive a very good judgement touching his metal. Thus & by these torments you shall see him bring his horse to such a sensible fearfulness, that for the ordinary road of a Fair or a Market, he will make him go with such spirit and madness of passion, that as if he had no feet but wings, you will rather fear his fury, than his dullness; whereas when either he shall come to temperate keeping, or ordinary travel, you shall soon find by his tiring, how those false fierce were created. Another trick Horsecorsers have to make their Horses being dull, to show brave Spirits, and that (when all other means fails them) will quicken them up for the length of a road, as long as there is any life in their bodies, and this it is; They will take a very fine sharp Nalle, and raising with their finger and Thumb the skin from the flesh upon each side of the spur vein, even just in the common spurring place, prick the skin through twice or thrice, and then they will take the powder of Glass, beaten as small as is possible to be gotten, and with it rub the places that were pricked, so that the powder of the Glass may enter into the holes, and then lay the hair smooth and plain again: this will bring the Horse to such a soreness, and tenderness of his sides, that it is worse than death to him to have any thing to touch them; so that whether a Man have spurs or no Spurs, yet the horse will go and show Spirit beyond all expectation; only this you must observe, that whensoever you dress your Horse thus in the Morning, that then at night you anoint his sides with Turpentine, and the powder of let mixed together, and his sides will be as well within twelve hours, as if they had never been poisoned: And for mine own part I have tried this trick upon a jade which hath been tired by the Highway, and I have found him that where before, the more a Man spurred, the sooner he would stand still; Now if a Man did but make offer to touch his sides, he would show quickness, and strive to go with more willingness, then when he was first taken forth in the morning. Many other deceits they have to quicken a dull jade, but these are the most usual, and do soon deceive a plain meaning. Now if his Horse have been formerly foundered, or frettized upon his feet, then be sure, before he brings him to any great show for the sale, he will chafe & ride him up and down at least half a quarter of an hour before, that having gotten heat and warmeth into the horses limbs, he may then bring him to the view of any man, and as long as the horse is hot, or treads upon soft ground, a very good eye shall hardly perceive imperfection in his feet; and if a Horse-courser have such a horse, you shall see if at any time he chance to set h●m up he will not yet let him stand still, but he will ever be beating or stirring him; and if his hooves be rugged or wrinkled (as frettized hoofs for the most part are) so that if a horseman shall see them he will easily discern his fault, or if the horse have ring-bone, pains, scratches, splints, or any eyesore about the neither joint, than the first thing the Horse corser doth; is to ride his horse into the dirt, and by daubing his legs to hide his faults: if the horse be subject to swelling in his legs, than the first thing the horse-courser doth, is to ride his Horse into some water, or to bathe the horses legs with cold water, for that will keep down the swelling till his legs be dry again: If the horse have had any secret strain in the foreshoulder, the horsecorser will ride him very seldom, & when he rides him you shall never see him turn him narrow, but both use him gently, and take large compass; If the horse have a little halt it is the trick of the horsecorser, that look upon which foot he halteth, from that foot commonly he will take off his shoe or with his knife cut off a little of the skin from his hecle, and then not forbear to protest that his halt is the want of the shoe, or else by reason of that small overreach, which in any man's eye will be of no great moment, and yet make a good judgement, think it is the cause of his halting; If the horse have the Glanders, and have run at the nose for many years before, so that it is become in common experience in curable, and that the horse is near his last date, in this case the horsecorser will not fail but in the morning before his horse goes to the sale, he will first blow into his Nostrils a good quantity of Neezing-powder, then take two long feathers of a Goose wing, and dipping them either in the juice of Garlic or in a little Oil-de-bay, thrust them up into the horses Nostrils, even to the top of his head, and rub them up and down: then after he hath cast the filth out of his Nostrils a good space, the horsecorser will take of garlic a good quantity being well bruised in a Mortar, and a good quantity of strong mustard, and mixing them well with new Ale, he will with a horn put some thereof into each of the horses Nostrils, and so hold it in with his hand by keeping his Nostrils close together; and then after his horse hath neezd and sneard a space, the filthiness wilstop, and then the horsecorser will ride him forth (for 'tis most certain that for twelve hours after there will not come any filthiness that will either trouble or disgrace the horse.) And thus even almost for every gross infirmity, the subtle horse-courser hath one devise or other to dissemble and cloak it, some being so artificial, that even very wise men may be mistaken, and some so gross, that a half wit will discern it: yet neither the one nor the other, but at some time serves the horsecorser for some purpose. But if the horse over and above all these outward and inward infirmities, be also so exceeding old and aged, that he is almost past both use and service, than the horsecorser will take a small round iron made very hot, and with it burn two little round black holes in the top of the two outmost teeth of each side, the outside of the horses mouth upon the neither teeth, and likewise the teeth of the upper chap, which answer just opposite to the neither, by which means if you look into the mouth of the horse to know his age, you shall see the mark so full and plain (the nature of which mark hath been so formerly showed you) that you cannot possibly guess the horse to be above the age of 7. years; but if the Horse through his age hath lost any of those teeth which declare the age of the horse, so that the deceit will not hold, than the horsecorser doth not fail every minute of an hour to be handling his horse about the lips, and ever as he touches them, either to thrust a sharp nalle, or a sharp pin into them, till he have brought the horse to such a tenderness and knowledge of the torment which he sustains, that in the end he will not suffer any man to touch him about the lips, but that he will either bite, strike, or commit some other outrageous part; so that no man being able to look into his mouth, no man that hath not other skill shall know his age by his mouth, for the countenance of the horse, or the hollowness of his eyes, or grey hairs about the Temples of the head are no true signs, but may diversly fail, as either being begotten by an old horse; or by opposition in colour between the Mare and the horse, or else by being bred in low and rotten soils, all which will make a Horse in his best youth and lustiness have an old countenance. These deceits and a multitude of others, as the selling of Horses which are Moon-eyed, making false tails, false whites in the face, or in divers other places, as by burning a Horse in the forehead with an hard Egg taken burning hot out of the fire and clapped to the horses face, or by clapping to it the stalk of a Coal-worte roasted in the fire as you would roast a Warden; or rubbing the hair and skin off with a smooth-Bricke bat leisurely, and such like toys, all which will make whites either in a Horse's face, or in any other part of his body, or the feeding of a Horse with false flesh, as by giving him to eat, either sodden barley, or sodden Beans, or Buck, or Coleworts, or such like, all which will stuff up a Horse in flesh suddenly, but one days labour will ever take away a whole months feeding. These and a world of such like unhonest fallaces are the very occupations and toils of Horsecorsers, by which they deceive whole multitudes of true meaning people, but for as much as from the discovery of these which I have already showed, doth issue the discovery of all other whatsoever they can invent, I will not clog your Memory with more observations than such, as (if you have daily commerce with Horsecorsers) you shall hourly have occasion to employ. Now to speak something of their subtlety in practice, you shall know, that amongst them, it is even as it is amongst coney catchers, & cut purses (pardon my comparison) for as they have false Brothers, so hath ever the unconscionable Horsecorser, so that a plain dealing Man shall no sooner offer him money for a Horse (albeit he offer more than his worth) but presently you shall have a fellow made for the purpose, who will come and over-byd the true dealer, another will step forth and give such false praises, and a third▪ report of so many false offers, which the horse-courser hath refused, that he which means simply, first taking a fancy to the Horse, and that fancy making him too willing to believe any goodness of the Horse, will be so carried away with their falsehoods, that in the end he shall find he hath bought naughtiness at a much too dear a reckoning: if this were the worst of evil men's practice, time and a little loss would make men more careful and trust less, but there are so many deceits, and such new generations of deceits, that it is impossible to discern them, because they are hourly in creating; wherefore what I have already Written, I hold sufficient to fortify any man's opinion against giving to great trust too dissimulation, or suffering his fancy to overrule his judgement. And thus much touching the choice of horsecorsers & their horses, their deceits and practices. CHAP. 3. Of the discovery and prevention of Horsecorsers deceits. SInce I have showed you the ordinary and customary deceits of both public and private unconscionable horsecorsers, it shall be fit that I show you likewise by what means and industry you shall prevent & discern the evil into which craft would entangle you, or else be reputed a very insufficient tutor that only tell you of evil, but show you no way to avoid it: you shall therefore know that when you go to buy a horse of a horsecorser, you must by no means give credit to any thing he speaks touching his horse, more than what you apparently see and know to be just, which is, but only whether he be fair shaped, fat, lean, or such like outward character in which he cannot deceive you, but for concealed qualities, believe it as a known verity that the more the horsecorser boasts or brags, the more deceit by much is in the horse he boasts of, and the more willing he is to sell, the more willing he is to deceive: wherefore to come to particularities, if when the horsse-corser brings his horse to be ridden before you, if you see him start, leap, rush forward, and be so impatient that he will hardly be kept to any moderate pace, as if his spirit were infinite, you shall then with good consideration mark the countenance of the horse in his going, whether he have a sad, heavy or unmoving eye, or whether he carry his ears still, and moveth seldom, or whether he rein slovenly, not raising up his neck, or showing Natural cheerfulness, or whether in his going you perceive him to lean upon his rider's hand, as if his head were too great a burden for his neck to carry: and lastly, whether he go with patience when he is from company, and only is most mad when company is about him, any of these constant and unsprity carriages are signs of dullness: wherefore when you discern any of them in a horse, you shall presently make the rider to alight from his back, and (as if you would view the horse) you shall lay your hand upon his Buttocks, thighs, and sides, and as if you would try the looseness of his skin you shall pluck it from the Flesh, and if you find he starts or is displeased thereat, be then assured that horse hath been soundly beaten. You shall also with your hand pull up the skin in the spurring place, and if you find he either chops down is head, as if he would bite, or that he shrinks his body, Whisks his tail, or shakes his head, it is an evident token he hath had his sides rubbed with Glass or something else to make them tender: Or if these observations cannot satisfy you, than the best course is to ride the horse yourself: and if upon the very first mounting him, you find he is all spirit and mettle, you shall then ride him forth of company, and when you are alone give him leave to go at his own pleasure without forcing him, and if then you find, that of his own accord he is willing to be temperate, and that he is ever most mad when he is in most company, than you may be assured that horse's mettle is not his own, but hath absolutely been forest into him, either by beating or some worse practice: beside, if it be his own mettle, yet it is a true rule, that the more extreme furious a horse is, the less will be his endurance in travel, neither is he worthy of any confidence: wherefore ever your best spirit is that which is most temperate, that will neither give any sign of sloth, nor easily be moved to any violence. Now after you are resolved touching his mettle and inward spirit, if then you would know whether he have been foundered, fretized, or be unsound of any of his limbs, you shall attend till the horsecorser set him up in the stable, and after he hath stood a while you shall mark the manner of his standing when no body troubles him, and if you perceive him, first to ease one foot then another, and that he cannot stand a minute of an hour together without hitching from one foot to another, as if he would dance, than you shallbe resolved, that questionless that horse hath either been fretized or foundered, and hath still remaining in his feet a most unnatural heat, for the sound horse you shall see stand constantly and even upon all his feet, without any sign or show of weariness in his feet which a horse that is thus tainted is not able to endure; But if you perceive that he doth not hitch and move thus from foot to foot, only he thrusts one of his forefeet more from him then the other, or treads not so surely upon one of his hind feet as upon the other, if this you do behold, then be assured that that horse hath had some ill and dangerous strain, the anguish whereof remains still amongst the bones and sinews, yet that grief is ever in the neither and not in the upper joints: as for young splints, Spavens, Ringbones, Curbs, Pains, scratches, or any such sorance, as dirt or mire may cover, be sure to see the horse when his legs are clean, and if your eye cannot pierce deep enough into the imperfections, be not ashamed to let your fingers make a search, and they will discover whatsoever hair or skin keeps hidden, if either you know what the diseases are, or can judge of them when you feel them; If you fear him for having gouty and swelled legs, you shall then watch to see him when his legs are dry, or after he hath stood an hour or two unstirred, or early in the morning before his legs be wet, and he will easily discover such a sorance: but if you cannot come to the sight of the horse at such convenient times, you shall then as you handle the horse about the neither joint, even close by his fetlock with your finger and your thumb, press the flesh very hard where you find it thickest, and if after you have priest it, you feel any dints or hollowness where your Thumb or Finger lay, than you may very well be assured, that that horse with the least Travel, will have gouty and swelled legs, for though cold water and labour do disperse the humour, yet in the neathet part of the joint will ever remain some naughty substance: If you sear the Horse for secret stains as, those which are in the shoulder, in the Hip, and in those upper parts of the Limbs, you shall then take him by the Bridle, and setting your back to his shoulder, turn him once about in as strait and narrow a compass as is possible; first of one side, then of the other, and as he turns you shall mark how he handles his feet, and if you find he brings not his outmost Leg over his inmost, but that his inmost Leg fails him, so that he dare not firm it upon the ground, but moves it both out of due time, and in an uncomely order, it is then a manifest token that he hath had some strain in the upper part of that Leg, which he dare not trust upon the ground in a strait turn, because such narrow turnings do ever writhe and approve the upper joints only. As for halting, and covering it with vain excuses, the best discovery thereof is never to trust a Horsecorsers protestations, but the more he vows, the less do you credit him, and so by mistrusting the worst that may happen, you shall prevent a mischief that would happen. Now if you fear any Glanders, broken wind, consumption, or other inward infirmity, you shall with your hand gripe him very hard about the Wessen pipe, close by the root of the tongue, and so hold him a good space, till you compel him to cough twice or thrice, & then if assoon as he hath caught, you see him begin to champ or chew with his teeth, as if he did eat something, (which indeed is nothing but filthiness which his coughing brings up) than it is an apparent sign, that either he hath the Glanders, or some inward grown cold; if his cough be hoarse, it is a sign of corruption, and putrefaction in his lungs, but if it be dry, clayn, and hollow, it is a great sign that his wind is tainted, which by the beating of his flank after a little labour, or by the swift motion too and fro of his tail, you may more plainly discern, for if his wind be sound, than his flank will rise very slowly, and his tail will not be seen to move but at great leisure; And from these observations you shall discover a World of such deceits, which do depend and are coherents to his former mischiefs. As for moon eyed Horses, which some call the Lunatic eyed, as it is a disease by which a Man may the soonest be coosened, so it is a sorance, that a skilful eye will soon discern, for though the eye keep the most part of an ordinary complexion, yet it is a little redder than the perfect eye, and much more Cloudy: beside, about the outmost Verge or circle of the eye, you shall see a little white film like a Line go about the eye, which is the plainest Character that may be for that disease; Now for false tails, or false Marks, your hand may easily find out the one, and your eyes may soon discern the other, for the artificial white will neither carry so bright a colour, nor be of so good proportion as that of nature, but like a patch in a new Garment, it will not rightly agree with the other features. Now lastly, for the age of the Horse, if the horse-courser have burnt him with holes in his teeth, to make him appear young, you shall then know that those holes will be both rounder and blacker, by a good deal, than those which came by nature, and they will carry more commonly one shape or fashion, which those that come by nature will not do, for they will sometimes be less one then the other, and one of them be worn out sooner than another, but also if the Horse will not suffer you to look in his mouth at all, than you shall by gentle means put your finger into his Mouth, and feeling the inside of his upper tush, by the hole which is within, you shall judge his age, without any contradiction. Many other rules I have formerly taught for the knowing of a horses age, and by the use of them though in one or two, yet in the most you shall not be deceived. Thus therefore when you are able to discern and discover those ordinary and common deceits which Horsecorsers practise, you shall then in buying any Horses of them, take great leisure and time, never making your bargain suddenly, but after you have chosen which you would have, see him go, then stand still, and then go you again, being (if your leisure will serve) at least a day before you make your bargain, that what you overslip in the first sight you may perceive in the second or the third: and what helps your Memory cannot suddenly call together, by the deliberation of time, you may the better bring to your remembrance, and so seldom or never buy with a bad bargain fond repentance. And thus much for the discovery of those common deceits which our Horsecorsers have hourly in their practice. CHAP. 4. Of the excellency of a horses understanding, and other qualities. THat a horse is a beast of a most excellent understanding and of more rare and pure sense then any other beast whatsoever, we have many ancient and rare records left unto us, by the gravest and worthiest writers that have writ either in the history of the world, or of nature: for we find it Written, that in the army of Sibaritanes, horses would dance to Music, and in their motionskeepe due time with music, they have given to their masters apparent signs, that they have had the foreknowledge of battle, and have prepared themselves there unto, with extraordinary diligence. They have been seen when their masters have been slain from their backs to mourn and sorrow after strange fashions, as the horse of Nicomedes, which would never eat any meat after his master was slain but died with hunger, or that of Centaretus, who when he saw his Master slain by Autiochus, and that Antiochus after he had killed the man, would in the pride of his triumph mount upon the beast, it is said that the horse instantly ran with him to the tops of the rocks, and both slew himself and his masters conqueror. One of the Kings of Scythia being slain in a combat, his enemy coming to disarm him, the slain King's horse with great fury ran upon his masters foe, and never left biting and striking till he had slain him likewise: It is reported that Dionysius the Tyrant, forsaking his horse in a bog or quagmire, the horse after with much labour getting forth of the dirt, did immediately upon his own accord follow his master whilst a swarm of Bees did knit in his mane, which Dionysius perceiving, he mounted the horses back again, and took that sign for a token that he should be king of Secill. Horses as some Authors do report have been seen to have such excellent perseverances & understandings of their dangers, that they have gathered up the darts which have been spent in battle, and have delivered them unto their masters; others report that in the Circensian games which were founded by Claudius Caesar, the horses which wore the white livery, casting the Charriot-driver from his seat, did not withstanding of their own accords run to the end of the course, and there made their stop, and won the prize with great glory, and it is said that other horses in the same games, but at other times having cast their riders, have not withstanding both won the Wagers, and after according to the manner of those sports, they have without any conductor or rulers gone to the Capitol, and made three turns about the temple of jupiter. A World of other examples are recorded touching the in ward worthiness of their knowledges, which because we do not daily see or daily take note of, therefore we hardly credit. Now for the puissance and stoutness of their courages, we find how there be divers probable Authors, who write that neither Bucephalus which was Alexander's Horse, nor the Horse of julius Caesar would suffer any Man to ride them, but their masters only, as if they did scorn meaner Burdens, it is said that Augustus Caesar, had a Horse of such exquisite goodness and perfection, that Germanicus Caesar made a most famous poem in praise of him, and both at Agrigentum, and in divers other parts there be most famous piramedes builded over Horses, all which show that they have been most famous beasts, and they have been regarded according to their worths, however now they be despised or neglected: and if we look but into latter times we may see the great estimation of Horses, by the burial of that famous Horse, upon which Charles the eight did himself serve against the Italians, which Horse was afterwards solemnly buried by the Lady of Bourbon, the King's Sister; And for mine own part, I have seen an Irish-Hobby which being shot clean through the body, did bring his Master safe from the field, and assoon as he was dismounted, the Horse died presently; And truly it is a thing unsearchable to enter into the knowledge, Stoutness, Aptness, and endurance of an excellent Horse; for proof whereof do but hear the reports of Soldiers or Huntsmen, and they will give you full satisfaction; Now for those only which a Horse will do, as being unnatural, strange, and past reason, we have had a full testimony in our time, by the Curtal which one Banks carried up and down, and showed both to Princes, and to the common people, which were so far beyond conceit, that it was a general opinion, and even some of good wisdom have maintained the assertion, that it was not possible to be done by a Horse, that which that Curtal did, but by the assistance of the Devil; but for mine own part, I know that all which so thought, were infinitely deceived, and these two reasons lead me thereunto, that first I persuade myself the Man was exceeding honest, And secondly that I know by most assured trials, that there was no one trick which that Curtal did, which I will not almost make any Horse do in less than a months practise, and that for as much as ever I saw him do (which I persuade myself was as much as other Men) I ever found a direct rule and Method, by which the Horse was governed and directed. And thus much I thought good to write touching the excellency of a Horse's aptness and understanding. CHAP. 5. How a Horse may be taught to do any trick, done by Banks his Curtal. ALthough La Brove do much discommend and dispraise the teaching of a horse to do these unnecessary and unnatural actions which more properly do be long to Dogs, Apes, Monkeys, and Baboons, yet because men's natures are so apt to delight in novelties, & in as much as I desire to give satisfaction to all humours whatsoever, upon profit and reason; and because these unprofitable to yes show in a Horse an extraordinary capacity, an observant fear, and an obedient love, all which are to be esteemed worthy qualities; I will show you in this brief relation, by the example of two or three tricks, how you shall make your Horse to do any other action as well as any Dog or Ape whatsoever, except it be leaping upon your shoulders, climbing up houses, or untying knots, all which are contrary to the shape and strength of his great body; but for fetching or carrying, (as commonly Dogs do) for counting numbers with his feet, or for choosing out any particular person amongst a multitude, or any other such like motion, those you shall perceive are to be taught with great ease and assurance, if a man will employ his labour thereunto, and not neglect the principal observations which necessarily depend upon such instructions. You shall therefore know, that if you will have your Horse fetch and carry, either Glove, Handkerchief, Hat, or any such like thing, you shall first bring your Horse to an especial love, fear; and knowledge of your person by this means; You shall not suffer any Man whatsoever to rub, dress, or so much as to speak to the Horse, but yourself only, neither shall you let him have any food, Drink, or other nourishment, but what he receives from your hand, and to that end you shall continually keep him in the Mussel, you shall seldom be from him, but either picking or trimming him, you shall when you walk abroad, take him in a string abroad with you, and make him so conversant and familiar with you, (suffering no other Man to give him either fair word or fair look) that in the end the Horse finding that he receives neither food nor comfort from any Creature but yourself, he may so wed his inclination unto yours, that as if it were a Dog which would follow his Master, so you shall make your Horse to attend and follow you up and down, whichiss an easy thing to bring to pass, as you may perceive by many foot-cloth Horses in the Cytty, which only through a little custom will follow their keepers whethersoever they go, now you must observe, that whilst you make your Horse thus to love and delight in your company, you must also make him stand in awe and fear, of your displeasure, correcting him ever with a sharp rod, when he doth any thing contrary to your will, and both cherishing him, and giving him something to eat, whensoever he doth any thing to your liking; and in correcting him you must ever observe to acquaint him but with one torment, as if it be with the Rod, than you shall by no means use Whip, Cudgel, or to strike him with your fists, and to this actual torment you shall ever add but one word of terror or threatening: so likewise in cherishing, besides food, you shall use but one manner of clapping or clawing him, nor but one certain word of encouragement, for as the use of many words, many corrections, and many chirrishinge makes him he can neither understand any word, any correction, or any cherishing perfectly, so the use of one single word certainly, to one purpose, makes the Horse as perfectly by custom know the meaning thereof as yourself that speaks it, as thus for example: If your Horse out of ignorance be about to do contrary to your will, then to use this word. Be wise, at which if he do not stay and take better deliberation, but wilfully pursue his error, then to correct him and use this word Villain or Traitor, or such like, so you use but one word; and when he doth as you would have him, to cherish him, and use this word So boy, in a short space you shall bring him to that knowledge that he will wholly be directed by those words and your commandment; you shall never at any time give him any food, but when he doth something to deserve food, that knowing always the cause why he hath food, he may with more diligence regard and observe you in whatsoever you do: Now when you have thus made your horse acquainted with obedience and loving unto you, & ready to observe every thing which shall proceed from you when he knows perfectly the diversity of your words and the cause of your great tormenting and punishing him, when you have brought him to an empty body & an hungry appetite, so that even for his belly sake he will double his diligence, for it is a general rule that neither flying Hawk, nor setting spaniel must be kept more empty than a horse in this case, than you may begin to teach him to fetch your glove, first by making him take your Glove into his mouth and holding it, then by letting the glove fall to the ground, and making him take it up, and lastly by throwing the glove a pretty way from you, and making him fetch it and deliver it unto you, & every time he doth to your contentment, you shall give him two or three bits of bread, and when he offends you then two or three strokes; or if you find him very wilful or unapt to conceive, then as soon as you have corrected him, you shall put on his mussel, and let him stand for at least six hours after without meat, and then prove him again, yet you must have great patience in teaching him at the first, and not leave him by any means till he doth something fashion himself to your liking, and after once you perceive he doth understand you, then if he do amiss, you must by no means overslippe punishment; for the greatest difficulty is in the first entrance to learn, and whether he doth well or il, or whatsoever he doth you shall by no means change your words or use more speech than what he perfectly understands. Till he will very readily receive your glove, you shall by no means make him take it from the ground, and till he will take it from the ground as quickly as you can let it fall, you shall not by any means make him fetch it, for to have two lessons imperfect at once, would make a confusion in the horse's memory, and before you make him perfect in any of these three, you shall by continual use and calling upon him make him know his own name, so that whensoeuèr you pronounce it, he may (whatsoever he is doing) lift up his head, and look you in the face, which is a sign he attends your pleasure: and to bring all these things to pass, there is no other Art to be used then labour and industry joined to the observations all ready prescribed: and there be some horses which after they are acquainted with the man and his meanings will perform all this in less than one week, other horses I have seen which have been a month about one of them, wherefore when you will try these conclusions, you must not think much with any labour. When your horse will receive your glove, take up your glove, and fetch your glove, you shall then make him carry a Glove whether you will in this sort: first you shall make him receive it in his mouth, and then pointing out a place with your rod you shall say unto him Deliver, and not leave repeating that word sometimes more sharply, sometimes gently till he lay or at lest bow his head down with it to that place where your rod pointed, and then you shall cherish him, and give him bread, thus you shall labour and apply him every hour when he is hungry, till you have made him that he will carry to any place against which you point your rod, and when you say Deliver, then to let it part from his mouth. Now you must observe that whilst you teach him thus, look to what place you point your rod, to that place also you must most constantly place your eye, not removing it to any other object, till your will be performed, for it is your eye and countenance, as well as your words, by which the horse is guided, & whosoever did note Banks curtal, might see that his eye did never part from the eye of his master; when your horse will thus by the directions of your rod and your eye, carry any thing you will to the place you shall appoint him unto, than you shall so hourly practise him therein, that in the end if you do make never so slight a sign with your rod, so your eye be constantly fixed, yet the horse will bear it towards that place, which as oft as he doth, you shall cherish him and give him food, than you shall cause two or three bystanders to stand a pretty distance one from another, and then giving the horse the Glove, you shall with your rod point at him to whom you would have him carry it, and assoon as he comes near, or but towards the party you point at, he shall put out his hand and receive the Glove from him, and you shall then cherish the horse, and give him bread, and thus you shall do to every several By-stander divers and sundry times, till the Horse be so perfect, that he will go to which or whom you will point at, and when he doth err never so little, you shall not fail first to bid him Be wise, and then if he amend not instantly, to correct him; this done, you shall make two by standers to stand close together, and then pointing at one of them, if the Horse mistake and look more towards the other, you shall bid him Be wise, and then if he turn his head towards the other, he shall presently receive the Glove, and you shall cherish the Horse, this by labour and practise he will grow so eunning in, that if there be never so great a company, look but upon what you fix your eye, or to what object you bear the point of your rod, to that only the Horse will carry what is delivered him, wherein you are but only to help him thus far, that when he is near the party, you give him comfort, and cause the party to take what the Horse brings: then after to give a greater grace to the action, or to make fond people wonder, you may blindfold the Horse, and taking any man's Glove in secret, after unblindfold him, and bid the Horse bear the Glove to him whom from you took it, which by the direction of your eye and rod, he will presently do. Now if you will teach your Horse to reckon any number, Of counting numbers. by lifting up and pawing with his feet, you shall first with your rod, by rapping him upon the shin, make him take his foot from the ground, and by adding to your rod one certain word as Up: or such like, now when he will take up his foot once, you shall cherish him, & give him Bread, and when he sets it upon the ground, the first time you shall ever say one, then give him more bread, and after a little pause, labour him again at every motion, giving him a bit of bread till he be so perfect, that as you lift up your rod, so he will lift up his foot, and as you move your rod downward, so he will move his foot to the ground, and you shall carefully observe to make him in any wise to keep true time with your rod, and not to move his foot when you leave to move your rod, which correcting him when he offends, both with strokes and hunger, he will soon be careful to observe, after you have brought him to this perfectness, than you shall make him increase his numbers at your pleasure, as from one to two, from two to three, and so fourth, till in the end he will not leave pawing with his foot, so long as ever you move your rod up and down, and in this by long custom, you shall make him so perfect, that if you make the motion of your rod never so little, or hard to be perceived, yet he will take notice from it, and in this lesson as in the other, you must also direct him by your eye, fixing your eyes upon the rod, and upon the horses feet all the while that you move it: for it is a rule in the nature of Horses, that they have an especial regard to the eye, face, and countenance of their keepers, so that once after you have brought him to know the help of your eye, you may presume he will hardly err except your eye misguide him: and therefore ever before you make your Horse do any thing, you must first make him look you in the face. Now after you have made him perfect in these observations, and that he knows his several rewards, both for good and evil doings, than you may adventure to bring him into any company or assembly, and making any Man think a number, and tell it you in your ear, you may bid the Horse tell you what number the man did think, and at the end of your speech be sure to say last Up: for that is as it were a Watchworde to make him know what he must do, and whilst you are talking, you shall make him look in your face, and so your eye directing him unto your rod, you may with the motions thereof, make him with his foot declare the number before thought by the by-stander. From this you may create a World of other toys, as how many Maids, how many Fools, how many Knaves, or how many Richmen are amongst a multitude of gazing persons, making the World wonder at that which is neither wonderful, nor scarce artificial. Now for the making of a Horse to lie down when you will, that every ordinary horse-courser, or Horse-ambler, Of making a Horse lie down. can make his Horse by beating him, first upon both his free Shins, and making him kneel down, and so by degrees to make him lie all along, after what fashion or manner you will, as if either he were dead, asleep, or else couching and watching to see something; wherein is only to be observed, the constancy of the certain word you use for that purpose, and your reward for well doing, and your correction when he offends, and all such helps which you use when you teach either Hound or Spaniel to couch, which is for the most part at the first only an awful threatening, or commandment till he understand your mind, and after as it were but a mild and cheerful entreaty. Now for to make him rise up suddenly again, and either to strike, leap, or use any desperate motion, you shall but only acquaint him with some other word contrary to that by which you forced him to lie down, & assoon as you use it, you shall not only help to raise him up with your hand, but by pricking, tickling, or toying with him, make him yark up his hinder parts, and offer to run and bite at you, yourself seeming as it were to be afraid of him, and as it were in a pleasant manner to shrink and run away from his fury; and that you may do this with more certainty, you shall before you teach him to lie down, teach him to yark behind by pricking him in the Buttock with a sharp nal, Goad, or such like Instrument, but in any case not by using your rod, for that being your Instrument of correction, must never be used but when he offends, lest he mistaking the use, do likewise mistake when he doth offend, and when he doth please you. Also you shall teach him before he come to fall down, to run, and bite, and snap at you as he plays, and is familiar with you, by twitching at his lips, and shrinking your hand again, or sometimes by pricking him in the lips with a Pin, or such like; or by making him run up and down after you, for in such wantonness a Horse is naturally addicted to knavery; Now when he hath learned these toys, you may then employ them, and mix them with any trick whatsoever, and from these toys you may create twenty others as much or more fantastical, which would ask a great toil to declare in writing, and yet in their teaching they have but one Method or manner of instruction. Now to conclude, that you may make a Horse to piss when you would have him (or at least to strain and Of making a Horse piss, or forbear, & other toys move himself thereunto) or to leave pissing when you please, you shall for two days at the least, watch him, and keep such distance of times, that he may never piss, but when you urge him, and to that end you shall once in two or three hours lead your horse up and down upon straw, so softly, that he may as it were but put out one foot and stand still, than another & stand still, yourself continually saying unto him piss, piss, and thus you shall do if it be a whole day together, till he do piss or strain himself to piss, and then you shall reward him with bread; and till he do piss or strain himself to piss, you shall neither move him in any other lesson, nor let him taste food though it were for a week together, and by this means after he understands your meaning, you shall no oftener say piss, but he either will piss, or strain himself to Piss, and then at your pleasure acquainting him with a contrary word as No more or such like, which being spoken in threatening sort, and accompanied with correction, you shall make him stay his pissing when and as oft as you please. As this motion of pissing, so you may use him in his eating, drinking, or any other natural action, and though these appear very unnatural, yea even to horsemen themselves, yet they are as easy to be effected, as any toy whatsoever. Now for trotting, ambling or dancing when you please, or severally to use which you please, you are but first to make him severally to know the motions, and to use to every motion a several help, as when you would have him dance, to jerk him overthwart the mid-back, when you would have him trot, to jerk him upon the shoulder, and when you would have him amble to jerk him under the belly, and to knit to every help a certain word, and you shall find it more certain than any other trick whatsoever. And thus having given you these slight tastes of the entrance into these superficial toys, which are more to stir admiration then profit, sith from these may be derived all others which have been put in practice, I think it not good to trouble you further with any large relation. CHAP. 6. Of drawing dry foot, and the aptness of horses thereunto. IT is not long ago since a worthy gentleman mine especial friend (talking with me touching the natures and dispositions of horses) began amongst other conferences to lay me down strong arguments and very good & probable reasons, that it might be possible to make a horse to draw dryfoot after any man, and to distinquish scents with his nose as well as any bloodhound, or sluthound whatsoe'er, both because a horse of all other beasts is most dainty and curious of smell, and also is more apt to undertake, and more able to perform any thing then any other beast, by as much as he is of greater understanding & better capassity, and for an instance of his pureness of smelling, we know that let a horse be blindfolded never so close, and but brought where a proud Mare is, he will instantly smell her, and grow as courageous as if his eyes had never so great liberty; horses also have been known to start, and to undertake the scent of a Bear long before they have either seen or come near the Bear; so that a horse being able both to vent and wind a far off the scents, which both please and displease him, it must consequently follow that nature hath given them benefit enough in smelling, and there only wants but an industrious mind to venture upon the employment; out of such like arguments as these, it pleased him to urge me to make trial of his imagination, and so to report what I found in the practice: but at that time being overmastred with the world's business (I mean crosses and law suits) I could not so presently pursue it, but since being delivered of those fetters I bestowed, a month practise to see what I could bring to pass, and it is most assured I found very possible, for thus far I proceeded; first after I had kept my horse in the mussel a Week and more, and brought him to such a sharpness and eagerness of stomach, that he was even almost mad for food, and when I had brought him to a perfect familiarity and acquaintance with me, making him ever eat that little which he did eat upon the ground, after I had troad on it with my foot, I then went into a bare-eaten-close, and there laid down a piece of bread, and set my foot upon it, and then another within a foot of it, and trod upon it also, & so laid piece by piece one within a foot or two foot of another, till I had gone xx. or thirty yards, and then stood close under a hedge or a wall, so as the horse might not see me, than I caused one to bring forth the horse, and to bring him to the first piece of bread, and so to the second, and so from piece to piece, till he came to the place where I stood, where presently I gave him as many Oats as he would eat, and then put on his mussel: for you must understand that bread is only good to make the train with, but ro feed the horse continually with it, the savour is so strong, that it would somewhat hinder his scent, whereas Oats having no such rankness, works no such imperfection: in this sort I continued him twice a day for a week together, every time making my train a several way, till the horse grew so cunning, that as soon as he had tasted the first piece he would even troth from piece to piece, and make no stay till he came where I stood. After this I laid my first pieces of bread, more than a yard asunder, & towards the latter end of the train I laid them a dozen yards asunder so that then he began to trust more to his nose than he did before, and thus I used him for more than another week, till he came to that perfection that he would make him run which led him, in all which time I ever observed, that if he either grew negligent or careless of his business, or fell to gnaw upon the earth presently he which led him, after some rating and beating him, put on his mussel, and he stood at least a dozen hours after without food, but this neither did, nor will happen but very seldom, especially if you keep him in right temper, which is, that he may be extreme hungry, but not faint or sick with hunger, and also I did never fail but when he had found me out, I gave him water as well as Oats; the third week, I made his train at least a quarter of a mile, and not above six pieces of bread in all the train, yet so placed, and the train made so plain, that if at any time there happened a slight error, yet he which led him by knowing my passage was able to help and put him into the true path again, and thus I practised the horse, and increased his knowledge by such lesurable degrees, that before a month was past, I have not laid above two pieces of bread in more than a quarter of a mile, and have with my best diligence endeavoured to deceive both the horse and him which led him, but I found that with no fair play I was able to do it, but go whither I would in any orderly fashion, and the horse would find me out; Now thus far only I did proceed in this experiment, partly to satisfy my friend, and partly to better mine own judgement, when compelled (as poor men are) to follow other occasions, I was fain to desist and to leave my desire but half satisfied; so that how a horses nose is able to direct him when he comes to diversity of earths, to high ways, to the foilings of other cattle, & to wet and moist places I am not able as yet to judge, only for what I have hitherto seen, or what in the nature or composition of a horse I understand I find nothing to abate or discourage my hope, and for mine own part I have such a confident opinion therein, that I make no doubt but whosoever shall take in hand the practice, shall find it easy and full of probability, till when I refer all whatsoever I have written in this whole art of horse-manships to the judgement of such who read without malice or destruction. The end of the eight book.