106-*A much more severe disease in America than in England.—Edit.
106-*A much more severe disease in America than in England.—Edit.
Drawing of the lower torso and legs of a woman seated in an ornate side saddleLADY’S SEAT, WITH HUNTING-HORN POMMEL.
Value of good horsemanship to both sexes.—On teaching children.—Anecdote.—Havelock’s opinion.—Rarey’s plan to train ponies.—The use of books.—Necessity of regular teaching for girls, boys can be self-taught.—Commence without a bridle.—Ride with one pair of reins and two hands.—Advantage of hunting-horn on side-saddle.—On the best plan for mounting.—Rarey’s plan.—On aman’s seat.—Nolan’s opinion.—Military style.—Hunting style.—Two examples in Lord Cardigan.—The Prussian style.—Anecdote by Mr. Gould, Blucher, and the Prince Regent.—Hints for men learning to ride.—How to use the reins.—Pull right for right, and left for left.—How to collect your horse.
Youcannot learn to ride from a book, but you may learn how to do some things and how to avoid many things of importance. Those who know all about horses and horsemanship, or fancy they do, will not read this chapter. But as there are riding-schools in the City of London, where an excellent business is done in teaching well-grown men how to ride for health or fashion, and as papas who know their own bump-bump style very well often desire to teach their daughters, I have collected the following instructions from my own experience, now extending over full thirty years, on horses of all kinds, including the worst, and from the best books on the subject, some of the best being anonymous contributions by distinguished horsemen, printed for private circulation. Every man and woman, girl and boy, who has the opportunity, should learn to ride on horseback. It is almost an additional sense—it is one of the healthiest exercises—it affords amusement when other amusements fail—relaxation from the most severe toil, and often, in colonies or wild countries, the only means of travelling or trading.
A man feels twice a man on horseback. The student and the farmer meet, when mounted, the Cabinet Minister and the landlord on even terms—good horsemanship is a passport to acquaintances in all ranks of life, and to make acquaintances is one of the arts of civilised life; to ripen them into use or friendship is another art. On horseback you can call with less ceremony, and meet or leave a superior with less formthan on foot. Rotten Row is the ride of idleness and pleasure, but there is a great deal of business done in sober walks and slow canters, commercial, political, and matrimonial.
For a young lady not to be able to ride with a lover is a great loss; not to be able to ride with a young husband a serious privation.
The first element for enjoying horse exercise is good horsemanship. Colonel Greenwood says very truly:—“Goodriding is worth acquiring by those whose pleasure or business it is to ride, because it is soon and easily acquired, and, when acquired, it becomes habitual; and it is as easy, nay, much more easy, and infinitely more safe, than bad riding.” “Good riding will last through age, sickness, and decrepitude, but bad riding will last only as long as youth, health, and strength supply courage;for good riding is an affair of skill, but bad riding is an affair of courage.”
A bold bad rider must not be merely brave; he must be fool-hardy; for he is perpetually in as much danger as a blind man among precipices.
In riding, as in most other things, danger is for the timid and the unskilful. The skilful rider, when apparently courting danger in the field, deserves no more credit for courage than for sitting in an arm-chair, and the unskilful no more the imputation of timidity for backwardness than if without practice he declined to perform on the tight-rope. Depend upon it, the bold bad rider is the hero.
There is nothing heroic in good riding, when dissected. The whole thing is a matter of detail—a collection of trifles—and its principles are so simple in theory and so easy in practice that they are despised.
It is an accomplishment that may, to a certain extent,be acquired late in life. I know instances in both sexes of a fair firm seat having been acquired under the pressure of necessity after forty years of age (I could name lawyers, sculptors, architects, and sailors), but it may be acquired with ease and perfection in youth, and it is most important that no awkward habits should be acquired.
Children who have courage may be taught to ride almost as soon as they can walk. On the Pampas of South America you may see a boy seven years old on horseback, driving a herd of horses, and carrying a baby in his arms!
I began my own lessons at four, when I sat upon an old mare in the stall while the groom polished harness or blacked his boots. Mr. Nathaniel Gould, who, at upwards of seventy years, and sixteen stone weight, can still ride hunting for seven or eight hours at a stretch, mentions, in his observations on horses and hunting,114-*that a nephew of his followed the Cheshire fox-hounds at seven years of age. “His manner of gathering up his reins was most singular, and his power of keeping his seat, with his little legs stretched horizontally along the saddle, quite surprising.” The hero Havelock, writing to his little boy, says, “You are now seven years old, and ought to learn to ride. I hope to hear soon that you have made progress in that important part of your education. Your uncle William (a boy-hero in the Peninsula) rode well before he was seven years old.” The proper commencement for a boy is a pony in which he can interest himself, and on which he may learn to sit as a horseman should.
I particularly warn parents against those broad-backed animals which, however suitable for carrying heavy old gentlemen, or sacks to market, are certainly very uncomfortable for the short legs of little boys, and likely to induce rupture. On a narrow, well-bred pony, of 11 or 12 hands high, a boy of six can sit like a little man. It is cruel to make children ride with bare legs.
Before Rarey introduced his system, there was no satisfactory mode of training those ponies that were too small for a man to mount, unless the owner happened to live near some racing stable, where he could obtain the services of a “feather-weight doll,” and then the pony often learned tricks more comic than satisfactory.
By patiently applying the practices explained in the preceding chapters, the smallest and most highly-bred pony may be reduced to perfect docility without impairing its spirit, and taught a number of amusing tricks.
Young ladies may learn on full-sized horses quite as well as on ponies, if they are provided with suitable side-saddles.
A man, or rather a boy, may learn to ride by practice and imitation, and go on tumbling about until he has acquired a firm and even elegant seat, but no lady can ever learn to ride as a lady should ride, without a good deal of instruction; because her seat on horseback is so thoroughly artificial, that without some competent person to tell her of her faults, she is sure to fall into a number of awkward ungraceful tricks. Besides, a riding-school, with its enclosed walls and trained horses, affords an opportunity of going through the preliminary lessons without any of those accidents which on the road, or in a field, are very likely to occur with a raw pupil on a fresh horse. For a young lad to fall on the grass, is not a serious affair, but a lady should never be allowed to run the chance of a fall, because it is likely to destroy the nerve, without which no lessons can be taught successfully. All who havenoticed the performances of Amazones in London, or at Brighton, must have in remembrance the many examples of ladies who, with great courage, sit in a manner that is at once fearful and ridiculous to behold; entirely dependent on the good behaviour of horses, which they, in reality, have no power of turning, and scarcely of stopping.
Little girls who learn their first lessons by riding with papa, who is either absorbed in other business, or himself a novice in the art of horsemanship, get into poky habits, which it is extremely difficult to eradicate when they reach the age when every real woman wishes to be admired.
Therefore, let everyone interested in the horsemanship of a young lady commence by placing her, as early as possible, under the tuition of a competent professional riding-master, unless he knows enough to teach her himself. There are many riding-schools where a fair seat is acquired by the lady pupils, but in London, at any rate, only two or three where they learn to use the reins, so as to control an unruly horse.
Both sexes are apt to acquire the habit of holding on by the bridle. To avoid this grave error, the first lessons in walking and cantering should be given to the pupil on a led horse, without taking hold of the bridle; and this should be repeated in learning to leap. The horsemanship of a lady is not complete until she has learned to leap, whether she intends to ride farming or hunting, or to confine herself to Rotten Row canters; for horses will leap and bound at times without permission.
I have high authority for recommending lessons without holding the bridle. Lady Mildred H——, one of the most accomplished horsewomen of the day, taught herdaughter to walk, trot, canter, gallop, and leap, without the steadying assistance of the reins.
A second point is, that every pupil in horsemanship should begin by holding the rein or reins (one is enough to begin with) in both hands, pulling to the right when they want to go to the right, and to the left when they wish to go to the left, that is the proper way of riding every strange horse, every colt, and every hunter, that does not perfectly know his business, for it is the only way in which you have any real command over your horse. But almost all our riding-school rules are military. Soldiers are obliged to carry a sword in one hand, and to rely, to a great extent, on the training of their horses for turning right or left. Ladies and gentlemen have no swords to carry, and neither possess, nor can desire to possess, such machines as troop-horses. Besides other more important advantages which will presently be described by commencing with two-handed riding, a lady is more likely to continue to sit squarely, than when holding the reins with one hand, and pretending to guide a horse who really guides himself. A man has the power of turning a horse, to a certain extent, with his legs and spurs; a woman must depend on her reins, whip, and left leg. As only one rein and the whip can be well held in one hand, double reins, except for hunting, are to a lady merely a perplexing puzzle. The best way for a lady is to knot up the snaffle, and hang it over the pommel, and ride with a light hand on the curb.
In order to give those ladies who may not have instruction at hand an idea of a safe, firm, and elegant seat, I have placed at the head of this chapter a woodcut, which shows how the legs should be placed. The third or hunting-horn pommel must be fitted to therider, as its situation in the saddle will differ, to some extent, according to the length of the lady’s legs. I hope my plain speaking will not offend American friends.
The first step is to sit well down on the saddle, then pass the right leg over the upstanding pommel, and let it hang straight down,—a little back, if leaping; if the foot pokes out, the lady has no firm hold. The stirrup must then be shortened, so as to bring the bent thigh next to the knee of the left leg firmly against the under side of the hunting-horn pommel. If, when this is done, an imaginary line were drawn from the rider’s backbone, which would go through the centre of the saddle, close to the cantle, she is in her proper place, and leaning rather back than forward, firm and close from the hips downwards, flexible from her hips upwards, with her hands holding the reins apart, a little above the level of her knee, she is in a position at once powerful and graceful. This is a very imperfect description of a very elegant picture. The originals, few and far between, are to be found for nine months of the year daily in Rotten Row. A lady in mounting, should hold the reins in her left hand, and place it on the pommel, the right hand as far over the cantle as she can comfortably reach. If there is no skilful man present to take her foot, make any man kneel down and put out his right knee as a step, and let down the stirrup to be shortened afterwards. Practise on a high chest of drawers!
After all the rules of horsemanship have been perfectly learned, nothing but practice can give the instinct which prepares a rider for the most sudden starts, leaps, and “kickings up behind and before.”
The style of a man’s seat must, to a certain extent, be settled by his height and shape. A man with short round legs and thighs cannot sit down on his horse liketall thin men, such as Jim Mason, or Tom Oliver, but men of the most unlikely shapes, by dint of practice and pluck, go well in the hunting-field, and don’t look ridiculous on the road.
There are certain rules laid down as to the length of a man’s stirrup-leathers, but the only good rule is that they should be short enough to give the rider full confidence in his seat, and full power over a pulling horse. For hunting it is generally well to take them up one hole shorter than on the road.
The military directions for mounting are absurd for civilians; in the first place, there ought to be no right side or wrong side in mounting; in both the street and hunting-field it is often most convenient to mount on what is called the wrong side. In the next place horses trained on the Rarey plan (and very soon all horses will be), will stand without thinking of moving when placed by the rider, so that the military direction to stand before the stirrup becomes unnecessary.
The following is Mr. Rarey’s plan of mounting for men, which is excellent, but is not described in his book, and indeed is difficult to describe at all.
To mount with the girths slack without bearing on the stirrup.—Take up the reins and a lock of the mane, stand behind the withers looking at your horse’s head, put your foot in the stirrup, and while holding the reins in one hand on the neck, place the other open and flat on the other side of the saddle as far down as the edge of the little flap, turn your toe out, so as not to touch the horse’s belly, and rise by leaning on your flat hand, thus pressing hard on the side of the saddle opposite to that on which you are mounting. The pressure of your hands will counterbalance your weight, and you will be able to mount without straining the girths, or evenwithout any girths at all. If you are not tall enough to put your foot fairly in the stirrup, use a horse-block, or, better still, a piece of solid wood about eighteen inches high, that can be moved about anywhere.
Young men should learn to leap into the saddle by placing both hands on the cantle, as the horse moves. I have seen Daly, the steeplechaser, who was a little man, do this often in the hunting-field, before he broke his thigh.
With respect to the best model for a seat, I recommend the very large class who form the best customers of riding-school masters in the great towns of England, I mean the gentlemen from eighteen to eight-and-twenty, who begin to ride as soon as they have the means and the opportunity, to study the style of the first-class steeplechase jockeys and gentlemen riders in the hunting-field whenever they have the opportunity. Almost all riding-masters are old dragoons, and what they teach is good as far as it goes, as to general appearance and carriage of the body, but generally the military notions about the use of a rider’s arms and legs are utterly wrong.
On this point we cannot have a better authority then that of the late Captain Nolan, who served in the Austrian, Hungarian, and in the English cavalry in India, and who studied horsemanship in Russia, and all other European countries celebrated for their cavalry. He says—
“The difference between a school (viz. an ordinary military horseman) and a real horseman is this, the first depends upon guiding and managing his horse for maintaining his seat; the second depends upon his seat for controlling and guiding his horse. At atrotthe school rider, instead of lightly rising to the actionof the horse, bumps up and down, falling heavily on the horse’s loins, and hanging on the reins to prevent the animal slipping from under him, whilst he is thrown up in his seat.”
It is a curious circumstance that the English alone have two styles of horsemanship. The one, natural and useful, formed in the hunting-field; the other, artificial and military, imported from the Continent. If you go into Rotten Row in the season you may see General the Earl of Cardigan riding a trained charger in the most approved military style—the toes in the stirrups, long stirrup-leathers, heels down, legs from the knee carefully clear of the horse’s sides—in fact, the balance seat, handed down by tradition from the time when knights wore complete armour and could ride in no other way, for the weight of the armour rendered a fall certain if once the balance was lost; a very grand and graceful style it is when performed by a master of the art of the length of limb of the Earl, or his more brilliant predecessor, the late Marquess of Anglesea. But if you go into Northamptonshire in the hunting season, you may see the same Earl of Cardigan in his scarlet coat, looking twice as thick in the waist, sailing away in the first flight, sitting down on the part intended by nature for a seat, with his knees well bent, and his calves employed in distributing his weight over the horse’s back and sides. In the one case the Earl is a real, in the other a show, horseman.
Therefore, when a riding-master tells you that you must ride by balance, “with your body upright, knee drawn back, and the feet in a perpendicular line with the shoulder, and your legs from the knee downward brought away to prevent what is calledclinging,” listen to him, learn all you can—do not argue, that would beuseless—and then take the first opportunity of studying those who are noted for combining an easy, natural seat with grace—that is, if you are built for gracefulness—some people are not. In Nolan’s words, “Let a man have a roomy saddle, and sit close to the horse’s back; let the leg be supported by the stirrup in a natural position, without being so short as to throw back the thigh, and the nearer the whole leg is brought to the horse the better, so long as the foot is not bent below the ankle-joint.”
Soon after the battle of Waterloo, by influence of the Prince Regent, who fancied he knew something about cavalry, a Prussian was introduced to teach our cavalry a new style of equitation, which consisted in entirely abandoning the use of that part of the person in which his Royal Highness was so highly gifted, and riding on the fork like a pair of compasses on a rolling pin, with perfectly straight legs. For a considerable period this ridiculous drill, which deprived the soldiers of all power over their horses, was carried on in the fields where Belgrave Square now stands, and was not abandoned until the number of men who suffered by it was the cause of a serious remonstrance from commanding officers. It is a pity that the reverse system has never been tried, and a regiment of cavalry taught riding on English fox-hunting principles, using the snaffle on the road, and rising in the trot. But it must be admitted that since the war there has been a great improvement in this respect, and there will probably be more as the martinets of the old school die off.
It was not for want of examples of a better style that the continental military style was forced upon our cavalry. Mr. Nathaniel Gould relates in his little bookas an instance of what determined hunting-men can do, that—
“When, in the year 1815, Blucher arrived in London and drove at once to Carlton House, I was one of a few out of an immense concourse of horsemen who accompanied his carriage from Shooter’s Hill, riding on each side; spite of all obstacles we forced ourselves through the Horse Guards gate and the troop of guardsmen, in like manner through the Light Cavalry and gate at Carlton House, as well as the posse of constables in the court-yard, and drove our horses up the flight of stone steps into the salon, though the guards, beefeaters, and constables arrayed themselves against this irruption of Cossacks, and actually came to the charge. The Prince, however, in the noblest manner waved his hand, and we were allowed to form a circle round the Regent while Blucher had the blue ribbon placed on his shoulders, and was assisted to rise by the Prince in the most dignified manner. His Royal Highness then slightly acknowledged our presence, we backed to the door, and got down the steps again with only one accident, that arising from a horse, which, on being urged forward, took a leap down the whole flight of stairs.”
But to return to the subject of a man’s seat on horseback. Nolan, quoting Baucher, says, “When first put on horseback, devote a few lessons to making his limbs supple, in the same way that you begin drill on foot with extension motions. Show him how to close up the thigh and leg to the saddle, and then work the leg backwards and forwards, up and down,without stirrups;make him swing a weight round in a circle from the shoulder as centre; the other hand placed on the thigh, thence to the rear, change the weight to the opposite hand, and same.”
“Placing one hand on the horse’s mane, make him lean down to each side in succession, till he reaches to within a short distance of the ground.” “These exercises give a man a firm hold with his legs, on a horse, and teach him to move his limbs without quitting his seat. Then take him in the circle in the longe, and, by walking and trotting alternately, teach him the necessity of leaning with the body to the side the horse is turning to. This is the necessary balance. Then put him with others, and give him plenty of trotting, to shake him into his seat. By degrees teach him how to use the reins, then the leg.”
These directions for training a full-grown trooper may be of use to civilians.
Presuming that you are in a fair way to obtain a secure seat, the next point is the use of the reins and the employment of your legs, for it is by these that a horseman holds, urges, and turns his horse. To handle a horse in perfection, you must have, besides instruction, “good hands.” Good or light hands, like the touch of a first-rate violinist, are a gift, not always to be acquired even by thought and practice. The perfection of riding is to make your horse understand and obey your directions, as conveyed through the reins—to halt, or go fast or slow; to walk, trot, canter, or gallop; to lead off with right or left leg, to change leg, to turn either way, and to rise in leaping at the exact point you select. No one but a perfect horseman, with naturally fine hands, can do this perfectly, but every young horseman should try.
The golden rule of horsemanship is laid down by Colonel Greenwood, in a sentence that noodles will despise for its “trite simplicity:”—“When you wish to turn to the right, pull the right rein stronger than the left.” This is common sense. No horse becomes restive in the colt-breaker’s hands. The reason is, that they ride with one bridle and two hands, instead of two bridles and one hand. “When they wish to go to the left, they pull the left rein stronger than the right. When they wish to go to the right, they pull the right rein stronger than the left. If the colt does not obey these indications, at least he understands them, even the first time he is mounted, and the most obstinate will not long resist them. Acting on these plain principles, I saw, in August last, a three-year-old colt which, placed absolutely raw and unbridled in Mr. Rarey’s hands, within seven days answered every indication of the reins like an old horse—turned right or left, brought his nose to the rider’s knee, and backed like an old trooper.
“But it takes a long time to make a colt understand that he is to turn to the right when the left rein is pulled;” and if any horse resists, the rider has no power one-handed, as the reins are usually held, to compel him.
The practice of one-handed riding originated in military schools; for a soldier has to carry a sword or lance, and depends chiefly on his well-trained horse and the pressure of his legs. No one ever attempts to turn a horse in harness with one hand, although there the driver has the assistance of the terrets, and it is equally absurd to attempt it with a colt or horse with a delicate mouth. Of course, with an old-trained hack even the reins are a mere form; any hint is enough.
The advantage of double-handed riding is, that, in afew hours, any colt and any pupil in horsemanship may learn it.
To make the most of a horse, the reins must be held with a smooth, even bearing, not hauling at a horse’s mouth, as if it were made of Indian rubber, nor yet leaving the reins slack, but so feeling him that you can instantaneously direct his course in any direction, “as if,” to use old Chifney’s phrase, “your rein was a worsted thread.” Your legs are to be used to force your horse forward up to the bit, and also to guide him. That is, when you turn to the right pull the right rein sharpest and press with the left leg; when to the left,vice versâ. Unless a horse rides up to the bit you have no control over him.
A good horseman chooses his horse’s ground and his pace for him. “To avoid a falling leaf a horse will put his foot over a precipice. When a horse has made a stumble, or is in difficulties at a fence, you cannot leave him too much at liberty, or be too quiet with him.” Don’t believe the nonsense people talk about holding a horse upafterhe has stumbled.
The pupil horseman should remember to drop his hands as low as he can on each side the withers, without stooping, when a horse becomes restive, plunging or attempting to run away. The instinct of a novice is to do exactly what he ought not to do—raise his hands.
By a skilful use of the reins and your own legs, with or without spurs, you collect, or, as Colonel Greenwood well expresses it, you condense your horse, at a stand, that is, you make him stand square, yet ready to move in any direction at any pace that you require; this is one use of the curb bit. It is on the same principle that fashionable coachmen “hit and hold” their high-bred horses while they thread the crowded streets of the Westend in season, or that you see a hard rider, when starting with three hundred companions at the joyful sound of Tally-ho, pricking and holding his horse, to have him ready for a great effort the moment he is clear of the crowd.
By a judicious use of the curb rein, you collect a tired horse; tired horses are inclined to sprawl about. You draw his hind-legs under him, throw him upon his haunches, and render him less liable to fall even on his weary or weak fore-legs. But a pull at the reins when a horse is falling may make him hold up his head, but cannot make him hold up his legs.
“When a horse is in movement there should be a constant touch or feeling or play between his mouth and the rider’s hands.” Not the hold by which riders of the foreign school retain their horses at an artificial parade pace, which is inconceivably fatiguing to the animal, and quite contrary to our English notions of natural riding; but a gradual, delicate firm feeling of the mouth and steady indications of the legs, which keep a fiery well-broken horse always, to use a school phrase, “between your hands and legs.”
You cannot take too much pains to acquire this art, for although it is not exercised on an old hack, that you ride with reins held any how, and your legs dangling anywhere, it is called into action and gives additional enjoyment to be striding the finest class of high-couraged delicate-mouthed horses—beautiful creatures that seem to enjoy being ridden by a real horseman or light-handed Amazone, but which become frantic in ignorant or brutal hands.
“A horse should never be turned without being made to collect himself, without being retained by the hands and urged by the legs, as well as guided by both; that is, in turning to the right both hands should retain him,and the right hand guide him, by being used the strongest; in turning to the left, both legs should urge him, and the left guide him by being pressed the strongest. Don’t turn into the contrary extreme, slackening the left rein, and hauling the horse’s head round to theright.”
The same rules should be observed for making a horse canter with the right leg, but the right rein should be only drawn enough to develop his right nostril.
Reining Back.—You must collect a horse with your legs before you rein him back, because if you press him back first with the reins he may throw all his weight on his hind legs under him, stick out his nose, hug his tail, and then he cannot stir—you must recover him to his balance, and give him power to step back. This rule is often neglected by carters in trying to make the shaft-horse back.
Rearing.—Knot the snaffle rein—loose it when the horse rears—put your right arm round the horse’s neck, with the hand well up and close under the horse’s gullet; press your left shoulder forward so as to bring your chest to the horse’s near side, for, if the horse falls, you will fall clear; the moment he is descending, press him forward, take up the rein, which, being knotted, is short to your hands, and ply the spurs. But a horse, after being laid down and made walk, tied up like the zebra a few times, will seldom persist, because the moment he attempts to rise you pull his off hind leg under him and he is powerless.
Leaping.—The riding-school is a bad place to teach a horse to leap. The bar, with its posts, is very apt to frighten him; if a colt has not been trained to leap as it should be by following its dam before it is mounted, take it into the fields and let it follow well-trainedhorses over easy low fences and little ditches, slowly without fuss, and, as part of the ride, not backwards and forwards—always leap on the snaffle. Our cavalry officers learn to leap, not in the school, but “across country.” Nolan tells a story that, during some manœuvres in Italy, an Austrian general, with his staff,got amongst some enclosures and sent some of hisaide-de-camps to find an outlet. They peered over the stone walls, rode about, but could find no gap. The general turned to one of his staff, a Yorkshireman, and said, “See if you can find a way out of this place.” Mr. W——k, mounted on a good English horse, went straight at the wall, cleared it, and, while doing so, turned in his saddle and touched his cap and said, “This way, general;” but his way did not suit the rest of the party.
There is a good deal taught in the best military schools, well worth time and study, which, with practice in horse-taming, would fill up the idle time of that numerous class who never read, and find time heavy on their hands, when out of town life.
“But a military riding-school,” says Colonel Greenwood, “is too apt to teach you to sit on your horse as stiff as a statue, to let your right hand hang down as useless as if God had never gifted you with one, to stick your left hand out, with a stiff straight wrist like a boltsprit, and to turn your horse invariably on the wrong rein.” I should not venture to say so much on my own authority, but Captain Nolan says further, speaking of the effect of the foreign school (not Baucher’s), on horses and men, “The result of this long monotonous course of study is, that on the uninitiated the school rider makes a pleasing impression, his horse turns, prances, and caracoles without any visible aid, or without any motion in the horseman’s upright, imposing attitude. But I have lived and served with them. I have myself been a riding-master, and know, from experience, the disadvantages of this foreign seat and system.”
There is nothing that requires more patience and firmness than a shying horse. Shying arises from three causes—defective eyesight, skittishness, and fear. If a horse always shies from the same side you may be sure the eye on that side is defective.
You may know that a horse shies from skittishness if he flies one day snorting from what he meets the next with indifference; dark stables also produce this irregular shying.
Nervousness, which is often increased by brutality, as the horse is not only afraid of the object, but of the whipping and spurring he has been accustomed to receive, can be alleviated, to some extent, by the treatment already described in the horse-training chapter. But horses first brought from the country to a large town are likely to be alarmed at a number of objects. You must take time to make them acquainted with each. For instance, I brought a mare from the country that everything moving seemed to frighten. I am convinced she had been ill-used, or had had an accident in harness. The first time a railway train passed in her sight over a bridge spanning the road she was travelling, she would turn round and would have run away had I not been able to restrain her; I could feel her heart beat between my legs. Acting on the principles of Xenophon and Mr. Rarey, I allowed her to turn, but compelled her to stand, twenty yards off, while the train passed. She looked back with a fearful eye all the time—it was a very slow luggage train—while Isoothed her. After once or twice she consented to face the train, watching it with crested neck and ears erect; by degrees she walked slowly forwards, and in the course of a few days passed under the bridge in the midst of the thunder of a train with perfect indifference.
If you can distinctly ascertain that a horse shies and turns round from mere skittishness, correct him when he turns, not as long as he faces the object: he will soon learn that it is for turning that he is visited with whip and spurs. A few days’ practice and patience essentially alter the character of the most nervous horses.
Books contain very elaborate descriptions of what a hack or a hunter should be in form, &c. To most persons these descriptions convey no practical ideas. The better plan is to take lessons on the proportions and anatomy of a horse from some intelligent judge or veterinary surgeon. You must study, and buy, and lose your money on many horses before you can safely, if ever, depend on your own judgment in choosing a horse. And, after all, a natural talent for comparison and eye for proportion are only the gift of a few. Some men have horses all their lives, and yet scarcely know a good animal from a bad one, although they may know what they like to drive, or ride or hunt. The safe plan is to distrust your own judgment until you feel you have had experience enough to choose for yourself.
Hacks for long distances are seldom required in England in these railway days. A town hack should be good-looking, sure-footed, not too tall, and active, for you are always in sight, you have to ride over slippery pavement, to turn sharp corners, and to mount and dismount often. Rarey’s system of making the horse obey the voice, stand until called, and follow the rider, mayeasily be taught, and is of great practical value thus applied. A cover or country hack must be fast, but need not be so showy in action or handsome as a town hack—his merit is to get over the ground.
Teach your hack to walk well with the reins loose—no pace is more gentlemanly and useful than a good steady walk. Any well-bred screw can gallop; it is the slow paces that show a gentleman’s hack.
If on a long journey, walk a quarter of a mile for every four you trot or canter, choosing the softest bits of road or turf.
Do not permit the saddle to be removed for at least half an hour after arriving with your horse hot. A neglect of this precaution will give a sore back.
A lady’s horse, beside other well-known qualifications of beauty and pace, should be up to the lady’s weight. It is one of the fictions of society that all ladies eat little and weigh little. Now, a saddle and habit weigh nearly three stone, a very slim lady will weigh nine, so there you reach twelve stone, which, considering how fond young girls are of riding fast and long over hard roads, is no mean weight. The best plan is to put the dear creatures into the scales with their saddles, register the result, and choose a horse calculated to be a good stone over the gross weight. How few ladies remember, as for hours they canter up and down Rotten Row, that that famous promenade is a mile and a quarter in length, so ten turns make twelve miles and a half.
The qualifications of a hunter need not be described, because all those who need these hints will, if they have common sense, only take hunters like servants, with established characters of at least one season.
Remember that a horse for driving requires “courage,” for he is always going fast—he never walks.People who only keep one or two horses often make the same mistake, as if they engaged Lord Gourmet’s cook for a servant of all work. They see a fiery caprioling animal, sleek as a mole, gentle, but full of fire, come out of a nobleman’s stud, where he was nursed like a child, and only ridden or driven in his turn, with half-a-dozen others. Seduced by his lively appearance, they purchase him, and place him under the care of a gardener-groom, or at livery, work him every day, early and late, and are surprised to find his flesh melt, his coat lose its bloom, and his lively pace exchanged for a dull shamble. This is a common case. The wise course is to select for a horse of all work an animal that has been always accustomed to work hard; he will then improve with care and regular exercise.
Horses under six years’ old are seldom equal to very hard work: they are not, full-grown, of much use, where only one or two are kept.
Make a point of caressing your horse, and giving him a carrot or apple whenever he is brought to you, at the same time carefully examine him all over, see to his legs, his shoes, and feet; notice if he is well groomed; see to the condition of his furniture, and see always that he is properly bitted. Grooms are often careless and ignorant.
As toShoeing. In large towns there are always veterinary surgeons’ forges, where the art is well understood, and so, too, in hunting districts; but where you have to rely on ignorant blacksmiths you cannot do better than rely on the rather exaggerated instructions contained in “Miles on the Horse’s Foot,” issued at a low price by the Royal Agricultural Society. Good shoeing prolongs the use of a horse for years.
Stables.—Most elaborate directions are given for theconstruction of stables; but most people are obliged to put up with what they find on their premises. Stables should be so ventilated that they never stink, and are never decidedly warm in cold weather, if you wish your horses to be healthy. Grooms will almost always stop up ventilation if they can. Loose boxes are to be preferred to stalls, because in them a tired horse can place himself in the position most easy to him. Sloping stalls are chambers of torture.
Hunters should be placed away from other horses, where, after a fatiguing day, they can lie at length, undisturbed by men or other horses in use. Stables should be as light as living rooms, but with louvers to darken them in summer, in order to keep out the flies. An ample supply of cold and hot water without troubling the cook is essential in a well-managed stable.
Large stables are magnificent, but a mistake. Four or five horses are quite as many as can be comfortably lodged together. I have seen hunters in an old barn in better condition than in the grandest temples of fashionable architects.
It takes an hour to dress a horse well in the morning, and more on return hot from work. From this hint you may calculate what time your servant must devote to his horses if they are to be well dressed.
If you are in the middle class, with a small stud, never take a swell groom from a great stable—he will despise you and your horses. Hunting farmers and hunting country surgeons train the best class of grooms.
When you find an honest, sober man, who thoroughly knows his business, you cannot treat him too well, for half the goodness of a horse depends, like a French dish, on the treatment.
114-*“Hints on Horses and Hunting,” by Senex.
114-*“Hints on Horses and Hunting,” by Senex.
View of the off side of a side saddleSIDE SADDLE.
On bits.—The snaffle.—The use of the curb.—The Pelham.—The Hanoverian bit described.—Martingales.—The gentleman’s saddle to be large enough.—Spurs.—Not to be too sharp.—The Somerset saddle for the timid and aged.—The Nolan saddle without flaps.—Ladies’ saddle described.—Advantages of the hunting-horn crutch.—Ladies’ stirrup.—Ladies’ dress.—Hints on.—Habit.—Boots.—Whips.—Hunting whips.—Use of the lash.—Gentleman’s ridingcostume.—Hunting dress.—Poole, the great authority.—Advantage of cap over hat in hunting.—Boot-tops and Napoleons.—Quotation from Warburton’s ballads.
Ifyou wish to ride comfortably, you must look as carefully to see that your horse’s furniture fits and suits him as to your own boots and breeches.
CURB-BIT.CURB-BIT.
When a farmer buys a team of oxen, if he knows his business he asks their names, because oxen answer to their names. On the same principle it is well to inquire what bit a horse has been accustomed to, and if you cannot learn, try several until you find out what suits him. There are rare horses, “that carry their own heads,” in dealers’ phrase, safely and elegantly with a plain snaffle bridle; but except in the hands of a steeple-chase jock, few are to be so trusted. Besides, as reins, as well as snaffles, break, it is not safe to hunt much with one bit and one bridle-rein. The average of horses go best on a double bridle, that is to say, the common hard and sharp or curb, with a snaffle. The best way is to ride on the snaffle, and use the curb only whenit is required to stop your horse suddenly, to moderate his speed when he is pulling too hard, or when he is tired or lazy to collect him, by drawing his nose down and his hind-legs more under him, for that is the first effect of taking hold of the curb-rein. There are many horses with good mouths, so far that they can be stopped easily with a plain snaffle, and yet require a curb-bit, to make them carry their heads in the right place, and this they often seem to do from the mere hint of the curb-chain dangling against their chins, without the rider being obliged to pull at the reins with any perceptible force.