or, what will your readers notice when you write about horses?
Everything.
They’ll notice everything, even the stuff you never thought they’d notice.
But that’s a really short post, so allow me to elaborate.
Horses are, indeed, not motorcycles, and should not be treated as such. This is harder than it looks when you’re in the middle of an exciting chase scene, or when a life-saving medicine needs to get from doctor to patient, or when the really important message must get to its destination as fast as possible to stop the heroine from marrying someone completely unsuitable because she thinks the hero is dead, et cetera. There’s lots of reasons to travel in a hurry in fiction, and they’re all way more complicated if you’re using horses instead of motorized vehicles. Bicycles are also complicated, but that’s another issue.
So, what will the reader notice, and what will throw him out of the story? Probably the biggest thing is, not stopping the horses to rest at regular intervals. Changing horses was also common in real life; the rider would saddle up another and keep going, or take the harness off the tired team and harness up fresh horses. The workers who help with that task are called various things- ostlers, in Regency and Victorian stories; grooms, sometimes, though a groom was usually employed by one person to take care of that person’s horses, not as a general servant at, say, an inn. A coachman drove the family carriage but didn’t usually care for the horses- the difference between a modern chauffeur and a mechanic. ‘Stablehand’ is more of an American term, in my experience. A squire- a junior knight in training- might help out, though historically, those young men often had servants of their own. Whatever you call them, they help take care of horses on the road, but their presence requires a certain level of civilization; a cowboy who needs to catch and saddle a fresh horse in the middle of a cattle drive will do the job himself.
Who had access to horses? Not as many people as you think, and it depends a lot on the setting. Most people walked everywhere. Your medieval peasant character is not going to saddle up his horse and ride to the next town on market day, though your Victorian farmer might harness his horse to a wagon instead of a plow, and drive into town on market day. In Pride & Prejudice, even a moderately wealthy family like the Bennets can’t always count on having their carriage horses because they’re needed for farm work; there aren’t enough horses on the farm to have a pair of carriage horses solely reserved for the ladies’ transport.
On the other hand, the Bennets are wealthy enough to own at least one saddle horse- for Jane to ride to Netherfield- and probably two of them, because she’d likely be escorted by a groom riding his own horse. Saddle horses were less common and more expensive because they take longer to train, and in England, they were taxed, so they were even more expensive on top of the costs of feeding and stabling. Having worked with both types, I can tell you that a driving horse might be rideable in a pinch, because the voice and rein commands translate pretty well, but a horse that’s only trained for riding is not going to be a good driving horse without some extra training to tolerate a carriage bouncing and rattling along behind him.
A servant might have access to his master’s horses; in Parson Woodforde’s journals, he talks about lending his horse to his servant to do errands, or if the man wanted to visit his family. Horses also would’ve been cheaper and more widely owned in settled rural areas- which includes places like America and Australia- because there was more land available for grazing. City dwellers had more short-term access to horse transport because they could hire a horse from a livery stable, like renting a car; it was certainly cheaper than owning one.
Going back to the horses themselves, water and feed are also important, and your readers will notice if you blatantly ignore the subject. Horses are like athletes in this respect; think about your own needs when you’re doing something strenuous, especially in extreme weather conditions; a horse wants extra water and calories about as often as you do. When you feed your people, feed your horses, too.
Historically, horses mostly ate hay and grass. This can be a problem on the road, because while they don’t chew their cud like cattle, chewing all that bulky hay takes time. If your character’s in a hurry, having him stop to let his horse eat for half an hour is going to raise some reader eyebrows. Commercially produced horse feed is a modern invention, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable to feed the horse a handful of whatever grain is common in that geographical area- oats don’t grow in the same places as wheat, for example. And I don’t have any historical sources for this, but modern horses will eat a slice of bread or a cookie just as happily as they eat their normal feed. Readers will definitely notice if your character tries to feed his horse on chocolate chip cookies, though; stick with something plain like an oatcake if you must go this route.
Distances and speeds can be a point of contention when traveling by horse. There’s so many factors that go into answering the question of how far a horse can go, and how fast? Continuing with the ‘horses are athletes’ framing- think about how long it’d take you to run or walk a mile. It varies, a lot, right? And some of us would be in better or worse shape at the end of the mile. The weather, the terrain, the load you’re carrying- all have to be factored in. Same with horses.
In general, readers will notice and complain if your fictional saddle horse walks faster than four miles an hour, or gallops faster than twenty miles an hour. A driving horse that trots faster than sixteen miles an hour is exceptionally fast- and is pulling a lightweight vehicle, not a laden stagecoach; the stage probably traveled half as fast, if that. The speed records are, of course, much faster, but these are reasonable maximums for a horse that’s being used as a transport method. A horse can walk for hours without much rest, but they usually need a break after about an hour of trotting, or about 15-20 minutes of cantering or galloping. And all of this is assuming the horse is in good shape, well fed, working on a reasonably smooth surface, in fairly normal weather conditions, and not bearing a very heavy load. You, as a writer, can reasonably slow your character’s progress on horseback to one or two miles an hour by altering any one of the above circumstances.
You can also stop him in his tracks if the plot demands it, because horses also need shoes. Some more than others; in general, the heavier the horse, the more likely it is to need shoes, because there’s more weight pressing down on the hoof wall. Historical horses were usually shod on all four feet. Most modern riding horses get away with wearing front shoes only- about sixty percent of a horse’s weight is carried on its front feet- or no shoes. There are reasons to put hind shoes only on a horse, but none of them are likely to apply in fiction, and readers will definitely notice if one of your fictional horses only has hind shoes. Stick with shoeing them all the way round, if your story takes place in a relatively high-tech society, or leave them completely barefoot if you’re writing about a roadless society like the Mongols.
Horse shoes are made of iron, or nowadays, steel, and they do wear out. The metal itself can wear down, especially if the horse is walking on hard or paved surfaces; and the hooves grow continuously, like a human’s fingernails, which causes the shoe to loosen. Most horses need their feet trimmed and shoes replaced every six to eight weeks. Having a horse lose a shoe is an excellent way to slow down a character. Replacing it can take a while, too; a modern farrier can reset a single shoe in about ten minutes; a historical farrier would take longer because the shoes were made of harder steel, and heating the shoe so it can be hammered and shaped to the horse’s hoof takes takes time. If he had to fire up the forge before starting that process, it’d take even longer- possibly a couple of hours.
Another thing that this particular reader- points to self– notices is when horses make noise at the wrong times. This is somewhat more common on film than in print; still worth mentioning.
Some horses are more vocal than others. Don’t give me comments about that talkative horse your neighbors had when you were a kid, as if you’re proving me wrong. They’re individuals, and some ‘talk’ more than others. But in general, horses are pretty quiet- certainly quieter than Hollywood would have you believe. They’re a prey animal; drawing attention to themselves is not a great recipe for survival. If you’re standing in a field and a horse approaches you from behind, you’re way more likely to notice their presence by the sound of their footsteps than by any vocalization.
So, what noises do horses make, and when? Most horses’ noises are in response to one of a variety of stimuli. They’ll snort to clear their nose, or sometimes if they’re surprised- the equivalent of a human gasp. They squeal sometimes when greeting an unfamiliar horse; this is a sign of aggression, not friendliness. They cough and sneeze. They’ll whinny to their friends both as a ‘where are you?’ noise and, somewhat less commonly, ‘oh, there you are,’ once the lost friend has been found. But they don’t go around whinnying or snorting constantly; they don’t make noise when you tug on the reins; they don’t vocalize at inconvenient times when your character is hiding in the woods from that troop of enemy soldiers who are marching past. If you must have your character be found by that troop of enemy soldiers, have the horse step on a twig at the wrong moment.
In case you couldn’t tell, out of place horse noises are one of my pet peeves. But it’s an easy problem to sidestep: don’t have the horse make any noise. No one ever complained that a fictional horse was too quiet. Even an injured horse doesn’t usually make any noise; see above about how they’re prey animals; stoicism is a survival technique.
The other major debate that comes up in film but is also relevant to print is, whether horses will charge at a solid wall (or a wall of shields). The answer is, generally, yes, you can get a horse to charge at a solid looking barrier. Once. After they hit it, and it hurts, they’re not going to do that again in a hurry.
If you point a trained horse- and it does have to be trained; modern polo people in particular put a lot of time into training their horses to do this- at a solid looking wall that it has no hope of jumping over, it’ll either stop a few strides away, or turn abruptly and go parallel to the wall. Thus sending the rider flying over its head into the wall. Ask me how I know. And of course, a panicking horse isn’t going to pay much attention to where it’s going and might charge straight into the enemy, especially if there are other horses doing the same thing on both sides of it. But once the horse makes contact at speed with that wall (or an enemy shield, spear, ax, or sword) it’ll be very reluctant to do that again. That’s why historical cavalry charges were most effective when they came at the enemy’s flanks, or when the enemy was already wavering on the brink of retreat.
On to the next controversy. There’s a lot of jargon surrounding horses and their accoutrements, and a huge majority of it is regional, so you can use the right word and someone who lives halfway across the country will be absolutely convinced you used the wrong word. A lot of the terminology has also changed meanings over time- forex, a modern farrier only shoes horses, but in the past, they also did veterinary work. Sorry, that’s just the way it is. Here’s a few terms that are more or less universal:
Horse- a large domestic equine (technically, one that’s taller than 58 inches at the top of the shoulders) that’s not a mule or donkey
Pony- a small domestic equine (technically, less than 58 inches) that’s not a mule or donkey. Not a young horse.
Stallion- an intact adult male horse.
Gelding- a castrated male horse.
Mare- an adult female horse.
Harness- the mass of leather that a horse wears to help it pull a cart, carriage, or wagon
Saddle- the flat mass of leather that sits on the horse’s back for riding. Comes in lots of different shapes and sizes according to the horse’s shape, the rider’s butt size, and the horse’s job.
Stirrup- the metal or leather-covered loop that the rider puts their foot in.
Bridle- the headgear that includes a bit. Used for guiding the horse while it’s being ridden or driven.
Bit- a piece of metal- usually; pre-blacksmithing cultures used cordage- that sits in the horse’s mouth, in the gap between the incisors and the molars. Used for steering and stopping the horse.
Halter- the headgear that does not include a bit. Used for guiding the horse on foot or tying it so it can’t wander off. Comes semi-permanently attached to a…
Lead rope- pretty self explanatory. The rope that the handler holds to guide the horse while it’s wearing a halter. Not the same as…
Reins- pieces of leather or rope that attach to the bit. Almost always made in pairs, left and right. The rider or driver uses them to steer and slow the horse.
Shoes- the C-shaped pieces of iron or steel that are nailed to the bottom of the horse’s hooves to protect the hoof from wear and tear on rough or rocky surfaces. Lots of different types and sizes.
Buck- when the horse lowers its head and kicks up with its hind feet. Sometimes an exuberant stretch; sometimes a type of resistance- ‘get this thing off my back!’
Rear- when the horse stands up on its hind legs. Can be playful; often a different type of resistance- ‘I don’t want to go forward!’ Extremely dangerous if the horse goes too high and falls over backward.
Kick- what it sounds like; the horse lashes out with its hind foot, usually sideways and/or to the rear.
Strike- a forward kick with a front foot. Not the same as pawing, which is when an impatient horse digs at the ground with a front foot.
Lame- a catch all term used to denote an injured horse- most commonly a leg or hoof injury that causes it to limp.
Most other terminology is either too technical for the average story, its writer, and its reader; the same word has multiple meanings in common use; or the same piece of equipment has multiple names. I never said this was easy, and entire books are written about everything I listed above.
And since this post could go on ad infinitum, let me ask you- what do you notice when the author’s writing about horses?
Mad Genius Club 
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