Stable in the Morning.

No 4.
Morning in the Stable.

During the school week our early mornings were to the feeders’ byre as it was closest to the Farmhouse. But on Saturdays we headed for the Stable. On a rare occasion the Merry Dancers were still in the dark Northern sky, the air clean and sharp in one’s nostrils, snell is the better word, catching one’s breath at times.
There were no Saturdays off work for the farm staff in those days, no five day week, only Sundays being a day off, a so-called day of rest. And not always then as a livestock farm was every day and all day, and a bit of the night too at calving time. The only weekend help I remember for the cattleman was straw windlins being tied by the other men in the barn and then carried to the byres ready for the cattleman, the bruised oats kist filled, loose hay carted for the Sabbath, all hard manual work. It did make the weekend a bit easier for the cattleman and on holidays such as one day at Christmas or New Year or a wedding or a funeral. Most of the men gave the cattleman a hand then to get through his work a bit sooner.
But the stable was a place of wonder, the power house of the farm, the start-of-day centre. Here it was that our father came first thing in the morning after looking into the feeders byre in passing, to set out the day’s work for the men, who did what, and where. The weather had it’s part to play, very much so as many tasks were weather dependent. You could not make hay if it was raining, plough if it was snowing. In winter the horses were in the stable, in summer they had to be taken in from the their close-by field with the occasional horse who decided he did not want to work that day. Almost human some of them!!. Still, they could never refuse the temptation of a handful of oats, so reluctantly they too came to hand. Some were left with their halter on overnight just to make them that much easier to catch in the morning. Otherwise we wouild take them by the forelock and lead them in, a forelock we could not reach unless they obligingly lowered their heads for us, which they did. Most were amenable enough. For we small boys the head halter could be just that much too high to catch. Still, the horses humoured us and came.
In the winter mornings, as in the byre, the first task was to light the paraffin lanterns, and woe betide the sluggard who did not have the lamps going by the time the rest of the men came in. In the air we caught the not unpleasant smell of the lit paraffin oil lanterns.
First task for the horsemen was to breakfast the horses. Each pair was one man’s charge, his very own to feed and groom and cherish, to check the horseshoes, to steal a smidgen of grain from the loft other than the normal rations so that his pair were the better, the sleeker, prouder than any of the others, a theft to which our father rightly turned a blind eye. First a feed of whole oats was put in a glazed trough in the stall before the horses, perhaps a swede turnip, a little hay in the rack above their heads. Clean the stall while they were eating. The clean bedding straw was stacked against the back wall behind each pair of horses for reuse, the soiled straw and horse dung thrown out onto the stable midden. Then, horses tended, the horsemen went to their nearby cottages for a first breakfast, strong sweet tea, porridge, loaf bread from the travelling grocer shop, or home made oatcake, berebread, flour scones, then return to the stable to get their orders for the day, to go to this or that task as the boss or the foreman dictated. And there were so many differing tasks to be done, each in season.

Even as we were in the stable or the byre a glimmer of light would creep into the cold sky, not yet true day but enough, though in deep mid-winter the men were usually “yoking” the horses even in the dark. Yet it was never really dark, always some smidgen of light to find one’s way from stable to cart shed, to back the horse between the cart shafts, to hitch up the various chains to the horse’s harness. Six o’clock in the morning was dark most of the winter, real light in Orkney sometimes only by nine, or even later.
We would watch as the horsemen got their horses ready for work. If carting turnips, a never ending task in wintertime, they would be harnessed for the cart. Head loosened from the stall halter, the collar was offered to each horse, usually putting their head down for the upsidedown collar to be put over their head and ears, then reversed to fit onto the front of the shoulders. Some horses almost did this themselves, long years of training coming to the fore. Next the hems, a double steel arrangement which fitted the front of the collar and contained the hooks and eyes for chains or ropes. The bridle was put onto the head, usually with half blinds or side pieces for each eye such as you can still see on some racehorses. They helped the horse to look ahead. Next the saddle with a girth to catch under the belly, draw through and fasten to the buckle end on the saddle, making sure all was tight. Some horses would blow themselves up a bit to avoid this final tightening, and get a gentle kick in the guts to make them draw in their stomachs. The britchen was last, fitting over the rump and tail, then attached to the saddle by straps. When all the variouys bits of harness were on they fitted together in one composite unit. The reins were attached to the saddle and they were undone from their tidy loops and fastened through rings to the bit in the bridle which fitted into the horse’s mouth, one each side. That bit again was sometimes resisted by a horse when the horseman tried to get it into the mouth, clenching it’s teeth, but in it went eventually. The equivalent of a steering wheel I suppose for the horse was guided by a gentle pull one side or the other, though many a horse was self steering with deep knowledge or a gentle word of “hop” or “hi”, right or left..
Thus the horse was kitted out for the many carting jobs to be done, be it the turnips aforementioned, carting dung to the field from the middens, to the stackyard to cart in a corn stack for threshing, or hay for the cattleman, or the thousand and one other farm jobs. The other harness at times used was a backband instead of a saddle, no britchen needed, taking the pulling chains from the saddle to the plough, or the harrows, or the rollers, or the reaper, or the binder. Indeed all the jobs other than carting. The sheer complexity of all the harness is still mindboggling. I would hesitate to even guess the cost of a horse being fitted out today with a full set of harness, but it would be a lot of money. There were also sets of special harness for farming shows or ploughing matches, lovingly polished, highly decorated, jealously guarded. These were kept in a special place. I know not where they all are now, as so much else from those far off days, mostly.gone with the wind I guess.