Metropolitan Museum of Art

The Art of the Mouthpiece Forget the idea that historical hardware was crude. In the 16th and 17th centuries, the development of horse bits represented a pinnacle of metalwork and early scientific application. These weren't just simple restraints; they were complex interface devices designed for fine-tuned communication between rider and beast. Adam Savage and curator Marina Viallon explore this at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, revealing a world where iron and tin were manipulated with staggering precision. Mechanical Advantage and Control The transition from the simple **snaffle bit** to the **curb bit** marked a significant shift in equestrian technology. Curb bits utilized long levers, often called shanks, which amplified the force applied by the rider. This leverage, combined with a **curb chain** pressing against the horse's chin, provided a level of control necessary for the complex maneuvers of noble war horses and dressage. It is a classic engineering solution: using mechanical advantage to achieve high-precision output with minimal input. Iterative Design and Ergonomics Perhaps most surprising is the focus on horse comfort and psychology. Makers integrated **rollers** and spinning components into the mouthpieces. These served as "toys" to keep the horse's mouth relaxed and active, preventing the animal from locking its jaw against the bit. The era also saw the rise of **experimental bits**—modular systems that allowed owners to swap mouthpieces or adjust shank lengths. This level of reconfigurability predates modern industrial standards by centuries. Each piece was often tailor-made, accounting for the specific anatomy of the horse, such as tongue thickness or palate height. Status Symbols and Social Engineering Beyond their mechanical function, these bits were masterpieces of iron making. Artisans used intricate pierce work and tinning to protect the metal from the corrosive effects of saliva and sweat. Owning these objects, along with the specialized literature of the time, signaled a gentleman's education. These bits were the "car enthusiast" culture of their day—highly technical, expensive, and a platform for showing off the skills of elite makers like Hans Cresburgger.