“What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Who can argue with Shakespeare? I often think of this quote when I write about weird and wonderful words but hadn’t come across a fitting word in which to use it. Today, I present to you the Grakle.

Grakle

Despite what my word document is trying to tell me with its endless squiggly red lines, Grakle is spelled correctly. However, in the context of the small black songbird, it’s grackle.

In terms of the noseband, there are a few spelling options: Grakle, grackle, Mexican and figure-eight are the four I know.

As far as nosebands go, I’d say this is the most handsome of the lot. Its purpose is to discourage horses from crossing their jaw and/or opening their mouth, which as riders we know can be disconcerting at best when cantering down to a fence and at worst, drag you past the distance into a hairy situation of potentially dangerous outcomes.

The grakle aims to eliminate this type of evasion and help us gain some control, tenuous though it may be. It is often seen where you find strong, fit horses such as on a cross-country course or in the show jump ring. Featuring two straps that cross diagonally over the front of the horse’s nose like an X, it wraps underneath the head, thusly creating a figure-eight. I think we can agree based on my fine description that the figure-eight name needs no further exploration. 

No matter what you choose to call this noseband, it was designed for and named after the notoriously strong horse Grakle, who despite his headstrong approach to racing, or more likely because of it, won the Grand National steeplechase race in 1931. His fifth attempt in which to do so.

Grakle (1922–1940) was owned by cotton tycoon Mr. Cecil Rowson Taylor who lived in one of those fancy manor houses, albeit a small one, called Brook Hall in England. I bring up this otherwise pointless piece of information, simply so that I can tell you that Mr. Taylor had Grakle buried at Brook Hall, and therefore I deduce the horse must have meant a great deal to him. And that means a lot to me.

Robert V. Lyall rode Grakle to his Grand National win in record time. Unfortunately, his success was short lived. Despite having jumped around the world’s most enormous steeplechase course, Lyall had a terrible fall during a point-to-point race shortly after his big win, which ended his career.

A final, but no less interesting note to make is that Grakle was often ridden by Keith Piggott, father to the famous Lester Piggott, a man widely regarded as one of the greatest flat racing jockeys of all time.

Now that we understand why the noseband is called a Grakle, and it is obvious why it is called a figure-eight, it does beg the question: why do some call it the Mexican noseband? Never daunted by endless equestrian oddities, I searched for the answer. Turns out, it’s very simple.

Somewhere along the line in the 1940s the Mexican show jumping team stumbled upon this unique noseband and debuted it to the horseshow world, and the rest, as they say, is history.

“What is in a name? That which we call a Grakle by any other name would prevent a horse from opening its mouth, crossing its jaw and running away with us.

Less poetic than the Bard, I confess.

Sources:

#horsewordnerd is dedicated to my mom, Genevieve Berry, who was my biggest supporter in life, no matter the endeavour. Thank you, mom.

Featured image: A Grakle noseband in action, paired with a snaffle no less. Kentucky 3-Day Event 2017 © Rebecca Berry.