I think it highly probable that horse-owners who read this chapter will be already supplied with stabling, be it such as it may, and I think it equally probable that whereas some will be ready to compare their premises with those that I shall advocate, and be anxious to effect such improvements as I shall venture to suggest, others will turn scoffingly away from my hints, with the declaration that they have kept horses all their lives, and have pulled along very well indeed without any of the new-fangled nonsense of the present day. Of course it is not for such persons that I care to write, or want to do so; on the contrary, I prefer to address my remarks to those who desire to learn. By setting forth the exact principles on which a stable should, according to my ideas, be built and managed, I shall be affording information to such as shall either be desirous of building anew, or of effecting a series of alterations in premises discovered to be faulty—although hitherto perhaps considered complete.

To begin then. If choice of situation can be had, select that which will admit of draining, and shelter from cold winds. The aspect should be southern, and the soil dry. A stable ought never to be built in a hollow, or near a marsh, nor ought the foundation to be sunk in clay. These things generate damp, and where this evil exists we may expect to find coughs, farcy, glanders, bad eyes, and a thousand attendant misfortunes. If the foundation of a stable cannot be of chalk or well-drained gravel, the proper plan will be to excavate, put in superior drains, and fill up the area to be occupied with concrete. The surface drainage may be connected with the underground, if desired, or may be quite distinct from it. Surface drains, if not constructed in a manner that will admit of their being cleaned out from day to day, had best be dispensed with, and open channels substituted, leading to the outside of the stable.

Walls should be composed of bricks, glazed on the inside, as such do not hold any dirt. Posts should be of oak, in preference to iron—and of the same stout material divisions of stalls and boxes should be made. If expense is not an object, however, brick will be better still for the construction of these.

The roof of a four-horse stable should be at least ten feet high, and that of a six-horse twelve to fourteen, which will be ample. When too lofty, a cold atmosphere prevails; when too low there is need for very large ventilators, which create a current, not always either safe or pleasant.

I do not at all approve of paved flooring, although it is so general. Roughened asphalte is the best; or a most perfect floor may be made by laying a concrete foundation, made up with gas-tar, some three or four inches thick, with stable clinkers set and bedded in it, and the whole grounded in with Portland cement.

I am a great advocate for box stalls, and would never allow an animal of mine to be tied up by the head. It is a barbarous and cruel practice, leading to all kinds of evils, both visible and concealed. A box should be at least twelve feet by fourteen, and I prefer it much larger. If it be of brick, it ought to be lined with wood, and this again with zinc in all places that the horse can use his teeth upon. Projections of every kind should be avoided, as they are apt to be injurious when the occupant moves rapidly, or rolls to refresh himself. In a stalled stable a box may be made by converting the end stall into one. This can readily be done by having a gate that can be hung on the stall-post and fastened against the wall. A screen, hung on rollers from a top bar, is better than a door for closing up a box-stall. It never gets out of order, nor can any horse—even the most ingenious—succeed in opening it when once it is let down.

Where stalls are used they ought to be at least ten feet in length, and six and a-half or seven in width. The flooring of stalls should never slant to any perceptible degree. When it does there is a continual strain upon the back sinews and flexor muscles of the horse, and this he strives to relieve by moving backwards, and resting his hind toes in the gutter,—a practice which grooms call a vice.

A stable door ought not to be less than eight feet high; this will enable a horseman to ride out when mounted. It should be quite five feet wide, and divided into two parts, upper and lower, in order that the former may be conveniently opened in warm weather. It should likewise be free of any fastening that projects in even an apparently trifling degree.

Good ventilation is an absolute necessity in a stable; but in saying this I do not mean that it should be overdone. Up to the year 1788 the subject was but little thought of, and ever since that period there has been a constant outcry against “hot” stables. Such, no doubt, are highly dangerous, but so are cold ones; and many persons insist upon confounding hot with foul, whereas the terms need have no connection whatever with one another. In cases of sickness it may be necessary to keep a horse in a warm stable, but no ailment that ever was heard of can possibly be benefited by being nursed in a foul or vitiated atmosphere. There is a great deal of talk about temperature with regard to stables, but very little indeed concerning purity: a matter which ought really to engage far more attention.

To ventilate a stable properly there ought to be apertures for taking away the foul air, and further apertures for admitting a fresh supply—and these must be placed high up, near the roof; otherwise they will tend to make the stable unduly cold.

When air is exhaled from a horse’s lungs it is both lighter and warmer than that which surrounds it, consequently it ascends to the highest part of the building, and if permitted to escape there it can do no harm. If, however, there is no aperture so high up, it remains at the top until it grows cold, and then descends, to be breathed and rebreathed by the animal over and over again. I cannot get persons to believe this, or even to understand it. The rooms that they themselves occupy are at times positive hotbeds of unwholesomeness—every window shut tight, doors likewise shut and often heavily curtained, while sandbags are employed in various directions to exclude every breath of fresh air. Such persons sleep all night long in a vitiated atmosphere, and think that they are doing wonders if, in the event of the morning being excessively bright and fine, they open a little bit of the window from the bottom. To tell them that this is injurious would have no effect whatever; it is comfortable, feels warm, at least—and what matter about the rest? “New-fangled notions: nothing else”—and so on, and so forth.

Impure air in stables is one of the evils to be most guarded against. There may be openings large enough to admit a certain quantity of fresh air, but they are of little use unless there are others also for the purpose of letting out that which has been already breathed, before it has had time to grow cool.

The best windows by far, both for lighting and ventilating, are ordinary sash-windows, well constructed, and reaching quite to the ceiling. These should be made to open readily at top and bottom, and should be fitted with cords and pulleys of the very best description. I know, of course, all the modern appliances off by heart, and am quite ready to admit the excellence of some of them—indeed, many—but for general all-round usefulness I prefer the kind that I have advocated. Sash-windows are capable of affording a splendid current of air: when the horses are out, for instance, or when the weather is tremendously hot—and they can be made available for the same purpose even when the occupants of the stalls and boxes are in their places without creating a dangerous draught, for the air can be directed ceilingwards by means of screens or wire blinds.

Another advantage that sash-windows possess over other kinds is that there is nothing about them to get out of order, except the cords—and these can, of course, be quite readily renewed; in fact, most handy stablemen are capable of effecting such simple repairs without having to enlist the services of outsiders at all.

I like to see windows glazed with rough plate; it is extremely strong and durable, and is in every way to be commended before the 18-inch glass, which is both frail and shabby. Blinds ought to be fitted to the windows, or outside shutters employed, in order to keep out the heat and glare in summer time.

Stables should be well lighted. I do not at all approve of the half-and-half system of lighting which generally prevails, and I strongly condemn the darkness which is too often to be found in them. I cannot be made to believe that horses, children, flowers, or anything else, can possibly thrive and be healthy in the dark. Abundance of light and air is my maxim, and I smile to myself when I see persons blinking disconsolately in the sunlight, and wondering where the “draughts” are coming from. Those accustomed to live in hot-houses call every breath of air a draught, and because it is the fashion (a most pernicious and objectionable one) to darken up dwelling-houses until every ray of God’s beautiful sunshine and sweet glad light is entirely excluded, they think that to enter a room where all the blinds are up, and where sunshafts are darting in through pleasantly opened windows, is something too awful to be endured. In like manner, grooms will, when allowed, shut out every ray of light from the houses in which their charges spend the long hours of their captivity, and will tell you—if you have the patience to listen to such nonsense—that “horses thrive better in the dark.” Do not believe a word of it. Just watch a horse brought suddenly out of a dark stable, in daylight, into the yard; look closely at his eyes, how the pupils instantly contract, and the lids rise and fall, with a rapid pained movement, not to be mistaken. The animal cannot see a single yard before him, and when he stumbles, or halts, or steps gingerly, the groom has harsh names and cruel punishments ready for him at command, provided always that the master or mistress does not happen to be by. You should insist upon having a plentiful supply of light and air for your horses, for by so doing, although “death cannot ultimately be defeated, life may be prolonged.”

I do not disapprove, as some do, of having the hay loft directly over the stable, but I greatly object to the common method of dispensing the contents of it through a trap-door in the roof. It is a most pernicious practice, allowing draughts to penetrate right down upon the horses’ heads, and filling their eyes and nostrils with hay-seeds and dust. Naturally when an animal knows that it is feeding-time, and sees the opening of the trap, its head is uplifted to catch the first morsel, and, as a consequence, its sensitive organs suffer at once. Moreover, there have been times when the fork, carried in the hand of a careless stableman, has slipped from him through the opening, and inflicted serious injury upon the occupant of the stall below.

When the hayloft is over the stable the floor of it should be of brick or concrete; if of wood, there will always be a difficulty about excluding vermin, which are the pests of every ill-managed stable.

The outer yard should be partially roofed, but where this is not the case there ought to be an adjacent room with a paved or asphalted floor, for purposes of clipping, singeing, &c., none of which operations ought ever to be performed in a stable or box.

For night lighting I approve of gas, when available; and if in the country, of lamps fixed with staples. Provision should be made for an abundant supply of water, arranged according to the source from whence it is most readily derivable; and to the ordinary stable apparatus, a long water-hose, together with a number of fire buckets, ought to be added.

The rack, manger, and drinking-trough should be level to the horses’ knees—the bottoms of them to reach almost to the level of the ground. This arrangement enables animals to eat and drink as nature intended that they should. The manger, which should be lined with zinc, ought to be fitted with a footguard; it is an excellent preventive against waste of food while eating.

I look with abhorrence upon the ordinary water-pot with chain and plug. It soils the water if not kept most scrupulously clean, and frets the horse besides. I approve of those that move upon a pivot, thus enabling the refuse liquid to be at once turned out, and the pot itself kept perfectly sweet and clean.

For bedding I do not think that anything is better than prime wheaten straw, properly shaken down and evened, to secure the comfort of the horse when he stretches or rolls. To leave it in lumps is both wasteful and cruel, for when it is so an animal cannot rest upon it for more than a very short period of time. He becomes restless and disquieted, he fidgets about, just as we do when we have the misfortune to be put to sleep on a hard, lumpy, uncomfortable bed,—and by-and-by he stands up, fretted, and declines to stretch himself any more. Thus his rest is disturbed and broken, and he is unfitted for his work next day.

Straw must of course be frequently changed, according as it becomes littered, broken up, or damp. It is sometimes left open to the inroads of dogs and poultry, a thing that ought to be guarded against for various reasons, among which may be counted the liability of vermin, which very soon find their way to the horse.

The best place for a granary is over a shed or coach-house. It ought to be a cool, airy apartment, with concrete floor, and walls lined with glazed brick. In small establishments the corn chest supplies the place of one. This, if used, ought never to be kept in the stable, owing to the chances so frequently occurring of its being left open by mistake, and horses breaking loose and gorging themselves almost to death. It should be placed in a loft, with a tube or shaft attached to bring the corn to the place where it is required.

Every stable ought to be provided with a copper, or boiler, for heating water and cooking food. This, both in town and country, should be considered an indispensable appendage. It is a great advantage, as well as a saving, to have the boiler made of malleable iron, which will stand every kind of hard usage without sustaining injury. It should be placed in a room that will afford space for all kinds of cooking implements, coolers, pails, &c., and a supply of coals as well. The entrance to this should be sufficiently wide to admit a good-sized wheelbarrow, or a cooler on wheels, and there should be a good lock to fasten the door. The furniture ought to include a couple of iron ladles for mixing or measuring the food, and a water-pipe with a stopcock running into the boiler.

The stable “cupboard,” or press, must not be overlooked. It is a receptacle intended to hold working implements—such as combs, brushes of all kinds, sponges, scissors, chamois leathers, or “shammies,” as servants call them for shortness—and a variety of other matters. The groom should have a key for this, and the master or mistress will do well to have another, in order that he or she may inspect it occasionally, and ascertain that it is not put to any improper use.