A SCAMPER ON THE BREEZY DOWNS OF SUSSEX.⇒LARGER IMAGEA TALK ABOUT THE PIGSKIN.BY A SPORTING TRAMP.
A SCAMPER ON THE BREEZY DOWNS OF SUSSEX.⇒LARGER IMAGE
A SCAMPER ON THE BREEZY DOWNS OF SUSSEX.
⇒LARGER IMAGE
BY A SPORTING TRAMP.
“This gallantHad witchcraft in’t—he grew unto his seat;And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,As he had been incorpsed, and demi-naturedWith the brave beast.”—Hamlet.
“This gallantHad witchcraft in’t—he grew unto his seat;And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,As he had been incorpsed, and demi-naturedWith the brave beast.”—Hamlet.
“This gallantHad witchcraft in’t—he grew unto his seat;And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,As he had been incorpsed, and demi-naturedWith the brave beast.”—Hamlet.
“This gallant
Had witchcraft in’t—he grew unto his seat;
And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,
As he had been incorpsed, and demi-natured
With the brave beast.”—Hamlet.
T
TO deliberately sit down and write on the subject of riding is a task which is attended with no slight difficulty. Such themes are invariably hard to handle, but riding has special difficulties. Much that is apropos and correct has been written on this most engaging subject from the day of Xenophon onward, but it is nevertheless an impossibility—nay, more, it is an absurdity, to suppose that rules can be shaped by which all can regulate their particular styles of riding. It is as futile to try to frame a code for the direction of both the fashionable crowd of a metropolis and the ranchmen of the West as to compare the Indian squaw, crouched on the pony that drags the “tepee” poles, with the blithe damsels enjoying a scamper on the breezy downs of Sussex.
Not only do different surroundings and objects alter the style, but Mother Nature has endowed her sons with limbs of varying shapes. It is no more possible for the short, stout man of vast avoirdupois to emulate the methods of a McLaughlin, a Fred Archer or a Tom Cannon, than it is for the same person to look elegant on a ball-room floor. “Circumstances alter cases,” and every man must adapt himself to the saddle as best he can.
Again, what may be a very taking display of horsemanship in Rotten Row, or Central Park, would look sadly out of place in rounding up a “bunch” of cattle on a Wyoming ranch. An equestrian might look very nice at a meet of fox-hounds, about whom we entertain grave doubts whether after forty minutes’ run across a stiff country he would be still well to the fore. The method that in one place is a near approach to perfection is worse than ridiculous in the other In this connection arises the fact that, though there are many brilliant exceptions, the great jockeys of the English flat are, generally speaking, by no means so much at home when following hounds as when braving the dangers of Tattenham Corner. Of course, however, it is by no means impossible, and it is often the case, that a man can adapt his style to his immediate circumstances, but it is rare to find a man who excels in all styles.
Some few years ago a “Britisher,” who though young had already made a name for himself in the noted hunting counties of Ireland and Leicestershire, migrated to the far West to try his luck in the ranching business. His scorn was great when he saw the unwieldy saddles that cowboys used, and he promptly determined to keep an English hunting saddle for his own use. His lesson was soon learnt, and after a few “almighty croppers,” he adapted himself to circumstances and the saddle of the country. Ere long his fame as a rider spread among the very “broncho busters” who had laughed at him on his first arrival. The finishing touch to his lasting renown was reached when he managed to sit a certain animal yclept the “Camel,” which had disposed of all previous aspirants to the honor of mounting him.
Such cases are rare, and though some few Englishmen have acquired a great reputation as riders in the West, the majority find that the style to which they have been brought up stands in their way when it comes to riding cow-ponies. Mayhap Buffalo Bill’s visit to Earl’s Court, London, may prove to have inculcated the necessary lesson.
One thing is very apparent to English visitors to New York, and it is that the English seat is now the thing. By the English seat we mean what is called, “across the herring pond,” the park seat, though we see occasionally symptoms of the adoption of the hunting seat. But before going farther, it would be well to say a few words as to the differences between the two. The park seat is the dandified style mostly taught in riding-schools. It is, however, an indispensable qualification of any man who wishes to “show” his horse. The general appearance is rather similar to that one may notice among the horsemen of the Southern States. Though a difference exists, it is hard to define, but may be summed up thus: while every Southernerseems part and parcel of the animal he bestrides, whence comes the common dictum that all Southerners are born cavalrymen, the possessor of a park seat, however perfect, lacks the appearance of being perfectly at home on his horse. The reason is obvious, viz., that the park seat is artificial, and the rider’s attention is chiefly given to producing good action on his hack’s part. He carries his hands high, often very high, and as he rides he “lifts” his horse, and is answered by correspondingly high action. The bit is often severe to further this. The rider’s feet are carried rather wide, and all the while the calf of the leg is never quite at rest, for while the grip of the knee is neglected, the calf is kept continuously but gently in motion. The spur never touches the flank, but the horse feels the necessary reminder at his ribs, and frets and moves with vigorous action as his rider wishes. In such a seat the foot is thrust but a short way through the stirrup, and rests on the iron at or about the ball of the great toe. The rider has, of course, to sit well down in his saddle, and stick to his horse mostly by balance, as the seat-preserving grip of the knee is so slightly maintained.
Youatt, in his book “The Horse,” gives the following instructions regarding the riding of hackneys: “He does wrong who constantly pulls might and main: he will soon spoil the animal’s mouth. He does worse who carelessly throws the reins on the neck of the horse.Always feel the mouth lightly, with a simultaneous pressure of both legs. By these means, the rider will insure a regularity of pace, and command the safety and speed of his horse. If he depends entirely upon the feeling of the hand, the mouth may become too sensitive, and refuse to have the proper bearing upon the bit.... Again, if the horseman neglects the elasticity and fine feeling of the hand, and makes too much use of his legs alone, a callous mouth and boring upon the bit will most likely result from the practice.... By this constant gentlefeelinghe will likewise be induced to carry his head well, than which few things are more conducive to the easy, beautiful, and safe going of the horse.”
To turn to the other style of English riding, it must be said that here there are many variations in style. The older school adopts a very short “leather” and feet thrust well home into a heavy stirrup, with a tendency to disregard the smaller niceties of the art. Look at an old gentleman nearly approaching the span of life allotted by the Psalmist, as he makes his way to covert. If he allows his horse to go out of a walk at all, the pace does not exceed a slow “jog” or trot, in fact, what is called the “huntsman’s jog.” He goes along, bump, bump, bumping, or, perhaps, for some hundred yards effecting a kind of shuffling rise from his saddle, while his knees seem to have no grip whatever on his horse’s sides and sway to and fro with every motion. Probably any stranger to the country could make many greater errors than to follow this old gentleman when hounds are running a rattling pace with a breast-high scent, for as necessity calls, a change takes place in his riding. See him as he lifts his flagging hunter at that stone-wall, his grip on the saddle is wonderful and he seems glued to it! This style is still common in England, and every man who has hunted there will see in his mind the picture of some white-haired old gentleman to whom this description might apply. Such men were the older generation who were content to rise before daylight, to ride long miles to the covert side without taking their horses out of a walk or a slow jog, so that they might arrive fresh and fit for the day’s sport. One may see them still, jogging behind the huntsman and his hounds, leaving the more rapid conveyances of train or tandem to sportsmen of the modern stamp.
One reaches the meet, and though the time appointed is eleven o’clocksharp, the master is not here yet. He belongs to the younger school of sportsmen with whom punctuality is not one of the cardinal virtues. But after twenty minutes, which are profitably employed in exchanging greetings and inquiries after absent friends, he is seen in the distance.
Down the bridle-path he comes as fast as his smart little covert-hack can lay legs to the ground. He is a perfect picture of the more modern school of cross country riding. A dim suspicion crosses the mind that he may at some period have held a commission in a crack cavalry regiment. Decidedly there is asoupçonof the military seat about him. Stirrups long, feet thrust in to an extent half way between the old hunting and the park style, hands kept low, sitting well down in the saddle, very probably with only a snaffle, or, at any rate, but a merciful double bridle, he looks as graceful a knight as ever championed dame of old in the jousting field.
In no costume is there such a happyblending of the dandified and workmanlike as in a well-appointed hunting man. Nowhere is the scorn showered on the luckless dude who has missed the workmanlike part of his equipment so great as in the hunting-field. The top-boots glittering in the gleam of sunshine in spite of their perfection of fit are stout enough to keep the wearer’s feet dry, should he do such an unlikely thing as take a walk in them on a rainy day. The spotless leathers are warm and comfortable—the smart “pink” is a roomy and serviceable garment. The resplendent silk hat will perhaps save the wearer a broken neck or fractured skull ere the day’s work is done. That milk-white scarf so neatly and dexterously tied that it also takes the place of collar, protects the throat and chest and relieves its wearer from the galling confinement of a collar. And the horse’s saddle and bridle, how simple and yet how handsome! not a buckle too much, but yet a man could rely on such work if he rode for his life.
ONE OF THE OLDER SCHOOL OF SPORTSMEN.
ONE OF THE OLDER SCHOOL OF SPORTSMEN.
The fashion for the last few years in England has been all for plain-flap saddles,i. e., with no knee-rolls at all. No doubt they look neater, and give no artificial support, making the rider rely entirely on his own powers, but there are disadvantages. Should a horse take it into his head to buck, or “pig-jump,” the merest pretence of a knee-roll will save a good rider, who without it may cut a somersault, from being taken unawares. Again, the absence of them no doubt affects the riding somewhat, giving an increased looseness of seat. Hence it seems a pity that the arbitrary Goddess of Fashion should lay down a hard and fast law, instead of allowing her votaries to follow their own inclinations.
Another fashion which has a bad side to it, is the recent introduction of very long-necked hunting spurs. They look very tidy and trim, with the long, straight piece of highly-polished metal finishing off the heel of the smart boot. Few men, however, find themselves capable of wearing such a spur with rowels left in. The danger of cutting the horse, most probably in the shoulder, is too great; hence has arisen the foolish custom of making spurs without rowels, or with plain round rowels, merely for appearances’ sake. In truth the short spurs, with curved necks, of our fathers may not have been so effective in appearance, but when punishment was to be given to a refractory horse, they had the pull. With the introduction of the English method of riding has come the adoption of the English riding-breeches for men, and the short, safe, plain skirt for ladies. In regard to the latter the Tramp has but little experience, and feels but slightly qualified to speak, though in the English sporting papers he has read vast columns of correspondence on the question from the pens of such authorities as Mrs. O’Donoghue Power. But to any practical horseman it must be a patent fact that the modern style is in every respect superior to the old-fashioned. To see a lady following hounds in one of the once fashionable flowing habits was a sightto make any one capable of reflection shudder. Without entire knowledge of all the intricacies of elastic loops, shot-weighted skirts, etc., one could not but feel how impossible it was that in an accident those flowing lengths should fall clear of a pommel, or fail in some way to entangle the fair wearer. Even with the modern style of skirt, accidents are rife enough. Some few years ago, while hunting in a southern county of England, the Tramp saw a young lady, married only a few months, dragged by her habit. Over a stone-wall flew the horse, and a battered, life-scarred visage took the place of the bright, pretty face of five minutes previous. One such sight is enough for a lifetime.
A MODERN DIANA.
A MODERN DIANA.
After all, nowadays a lady has but little more encumbrance than a man, and who shall say modesty is in any respect violated, clamorous as was the outcry at the first adoption of the short skirt? To watch a beautiful woman on a fine thoroughbred, clad in a neatly-cut habit with its plain severe folds, and the suspicion of a dainty patent-leather jack-boot apparent, is to see God’s noblest work to every advantage. Even the increased masculinity that fashion has dictated of late years, is becoming, under the circumstances, and the shining silk hat, dainty tie and collar, and trim edges of fancy work simulating the male waistcoat, all add to thetout ensemble.
The trouble with ladies in the saddle is often said—alas! with considerable truth—to be that they are unmerciful: that to them a horse is as an engine, bound to go at any pace desired until it is stopped. One cannot but feel admiration when one sees a lady calmly and dexterously manage a fretting, restless horse in a crowded ride. Too often it is that sharp, cruel little spur beneath the habit that is the cause. On the other hand, it is an undoubted fact that many a horse unmanageable to the heavier hands of a man, will become docile under a lady’s touch. Let ladies, then, remember that nature has made them capable of more sensitive handling of the horse’s mouth than any man, and that the horse’s mouth is more delicate and responsive than any piano. The glory is not by needless torture and aggravating teasing to excite the baser side of the equine nature, but to so convey to the horse by the reins their smallest wishes that the willing beast may take a delight in compliance.
Men can by no means lay the sole claim in these times to workmanlike simplicity. The ladies have adopted this as their motto. The days are gone for trailing skirts, plumed hats, lace collars and such stagey effects, and the modern Diana relies not on her winning feminine graces, but her ability to rival man in his own field.
Well does she press her claim. To seethe score or so of young ladies that follow an English pack must prove an eye-opener to those of an older generation when riding to hounds was thought unladylike, and a gentle palfrey of easy paces considered the right mount for the sweeter half of humanity. Now, whether it be in Central Park or Rotten Row, the hunting field or the road, the lady assumes the place that is her right, if her ability equal her ambition. All lackadaisical ideas are thrown overboard, and the best one is she who rides best.
Nor do the ladies lack leaders in such a movement. With the Empress of Austria showing the way across country, and the Princess of Wales gracing Hyde Park with her presence, who shall say that bright examples are lacking? Many more might be quoted; the Empress Victoria of Germany was accounted a good rider in her day, and, in fact, Queen Victoria and all her family have been fairly expert in the saddle.
Concerning the male riding costume the Tramp has formed decided opinions, for he has tried all shapes and kinds. His conclusion has been that nothing equals breeches, carefully made by a good tailor. The feeling of snugness about the knee is pleasant, and enables the rider to get a good grip, andfeelhis horse; with the ordinary garments of the male biped there is a great tendency to wrinkles and such discomforts. For hunting, the lower parts of the limbs are best equipped in top or butcher boots, while for ordinary hacking a neat pair of lace shoes, with gaiters cut loose in the lower part, are the best outfit. But above all eschew hooks for the laces; nothing is more prone to cause serious mishaps in accidents than these consolations for the lazy. They are simply a patent invention to ensure that a foot stuck in a stirrup may never come out of it till the owner has been dragged or kicked to death. As to the upper part of the body, every man should follow his own inclinations.
In England, however, custom has made certain rules which are not to be lightly transgressed. No man should don a black tail-coat with a low hat, nor a shooting-jacket with a tall hat, nor a tall hat and black coat with gaiters. In the hunting field, no man should wear white riding-breeches and top-boots with anything but either a pink or black tail-coat and a tall hat or hunting-cap. By the by, the hunting-cap has almost become obsolete for any but the hunt servants,e. g., huntsman, two-whips, and second-horsemen—and sometimes the master, except in a few woodland counties,e. g., the Braes of Derwent, in Northumberland. Again, no one should wear anything but white breeches and top-boots (i. e., boots with tops of leather of a different color, white, mahogany, pink, etc., as fashion dictates) with a black or scarlet coat and a tall hat; while top-boots should not be worn with breeches of any color but white, though, of course, plain boots (called in England butcher-boots) may be. Such rules are, of course, entirely lacking in any real reason, but the observance of them is almost universal, and the effect produced is good.
Fashion, as is her usual habit, varies every few years in most points. The color of tops may alter, the length of spurs may vary, the correct coat may be cut with a full skirt or a swallow-tail, but these rules are as unchanging as the laws of the Medes and Persians.
But leaving the mandates of the goddess who shares with Fortune the reputation of fickleness, let us return to riding proper. It is a common thing to hear riders, and good riders too, declare that riding cannot be taught, meaning thereby that if nature did not intend a man to be a finished equestrian, no practice or tuition can make him such. This is no doubt to some extent true, but surely even a bad rider can by determination so improve himself as to become moderately good.
Again, ideas differ much as to the advisability of teaching children to ride while quite young. The general opinion seems to be that the younger they begin the better, for that, unless they happen to meet with a serious and nerve-shaking accident, they will become accomplished and bold riders. This opinion is, however, by no means universal, and is not shared especially in some of the English colonies, where a boy who rides boldly when young is regarded as likely to “lose his nerve” about the time he reaches maturity. Whyte-Melville gave his observation in one of his books that among the boldest riders to hounds that he had ever seen were men who had never followed hounds until after twenty years of age.
Much depends on the way in which a youngster is taught. It is very possible to make a child imbibe a hatred of the saddle which will last him into later life. The idea, then, to be kept in mind is that lessons should be made a pleasure, and not a torture. Begin with easily-learnt instruction and short lessons, and the child willenjoy it. But begin with lessons lasting till the poor little legs are aching, and the head is muddled with complicated commands, and the youngster will regard his teacher as his torturer. As the aptitude and capacity grows, the lessons can be made harder and longer, till almost before the teacher or the pupil can recognize the fact, a fair, if not a good, rider has been turned out.
As to the methods of teaching riding, this must be left for riding-masters to discuss, but some few points should, I think, be insisted on. Chief among these is that the horses or ponies on which the pupil is mounted should be changed often. This enables him both to learn how to handle horses with differing qualities of mouth, and how to sit the variations of gait. The most successful results seem to ensue where the first lessons are given on a plain saddle-cloth, or “numnah;” and another important elementary lesson is to make the pupil keep his toes turned up so as to harden the muscles of the inner side of the thigh, and thus acquire a strength of grip. Snaffles should invariably be used, to foster that great essential of a good rider—lightness of hand. The pupil must be taught to ride by balance, that indispensable quality without which all the grip in the world is useless. But above all the master must see that the pupil has confidence in him, or his best efforts will be in vain.
Grip without balance is of no use. One often hears people say that they ride by balance, or that they ride by grip. In reality the one is a necessary concomitant and supporter of the other.
Some few years ago a man with whom the Tramp was acquainted, when slightly in his cups, undertook to go home by a short cut across country. His attempted negotiation of a fence ended in a somewhat ignominious “voluntary.” As he sat on the ground, he plaintively remarked: “Old B—— says that I ride blamed well ’cos I ride by balance. Old B—— ’s a blanked old fool. What the thunder’s the good of balance?” And he had to a certain extent hit the point. No man in creation can ride all the time by grip—the constant strain on the muscles soon brings cramp.
There is in one of England’s fairest counties a certain sporting young squire whose grip on his horse is so terrific that to prevent galling the animal’s sides, a space in the padding of the flaps of his saddle is left where his knees come, with thick padding round the edges. But even this man could not ride always by grip.
This is demonstrated by the schooling which a recruit undergoes on entering an English cavalry regiment. He has to ride on a “numnah” at first, after such preliminary lessons as to how to lead a horse, etc. Next he is placed on a “stripped” saddle, without stirrups—meanwhile riding with only a “biddoon”—and is put to jumping obstacles some two feet high, with his reins tied and his arms folded behind his back. If such discipline as this is not calculated to inculcate the doctrine of both balance and grip one can scarcely say what is. This course is found so severe that many a man who enlists with the idea that he is a crack rider begins to doubt it before he is through the school.
As, however, was said at the beginning of this paper, it is impossible to lay down arbitrary rules for all cases. Any one who has tried it can vouch for the extraordinary difference between riding in an English hunting-saddle and, say, a McClellan army saddle. A follower of the old-fashioned hunting seat would be much put about to follow hounds in one of the peaked wooden saddles, excellent in their own line as they may be. In all truth the saddle has more to do with the formation of a seat than is usually supposed. An uncomfortable saddle makes the unfortunate rider twist and writhe in vain endeavor to find an easy spot. A jogging horse that won’t walk, and an uneasy saddle which seems to be galling one in a dozen places at once, is enough to make a man eschew equestrianism for the rest of his life. It is a man’s fault if he cannot find a saddle to suit him, and in selecting one it should be remembered that as a rule the more comfortable the saddle the better the seat. It is great folly to try to save a few pounds extra weight at the expense of comfort. A large roomy saddle is certainly more comfortable to a rider, and generally easier for the horse, which, unless the work to be done is exceptionally long and wearisome, will never notice the slight increase in weight.
In the same way everything should be as large and roomy as possible without being clumsy. The stirrups should be large and heavy enough to slip easily from the feet in case of accident; the reins broad enough to hold firmly, and the bit or bits solid enough to give the horse something to play with.
One thing should always be borne in mind, which, alas! people are too apt to forget. A horse is not a machine. He is a sensible, affectionate, willing animal, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred wishing to do his best for one. He is, therefore, entitled to as much kindness and sympathy as possible, and no one will be worse for remembering the old, well-worn saying, put in the horse’s mouth: “Up hill worry me not, down hill hurry me not, on level ground spare me not.”
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