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By the same Author.
_THE CAMPAIGN OF CHANCELLORSVILLE._
It is not easy to say which part of this book is best, for it is all
good.--_The Nation._
We do not hesitate to pronounce it one of the ablest, fairest, and
most valuable books that we have seen.--_Southern Historical Papers._
_A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF OUR CIVIL WAR_
Is all that could be desired: gives perhaps a clearer, more
vivid view, a more accurate outline than any other available
record.--_London Saturday Review._
The material of the work well serves to consolidate and orient the
knowledge of what was done in the Great Rebellion and of those who did
it.--_Journal Military Service Institution._
We do not hesitate to commend the book most warmly as the work of an
able, painstaking soldier, who has honestly endeavored to ascertain
and frankly to tell the truth about the war.--_Southern Historical
Papers._
The book is written in a spirit of impartiality and of just
discrimination concerning the merits and defects of the generals who
led the armies of the North and South.--_Army and Navy Journal._
[Illustration: PLATE I.
PATROCLUS.]
PATROCLUS AND PENELOPE
_A Chat in the Saddle_
BY
THEODORE AYRAULT DODGE
BREVET LIEUTENANT-COLONEL UNITED STATES ARMY, RETIRED LIST; AUTHOR OF
"THE CAMPAIGN OF CHANCELLORSVILLE," "A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF OUR CIVIL
WAR," ETC., ETC.
BOSTON
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1885
Copyright, 1885,
BY THEODORE AYRAULT DODGE.
_All rights reserved._
_The Riverside Press, Cambridge_:
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton and Company.
To
THE COUNTRY CLUB OF BOSTON,
WHICH HAS FOSTERED A TRUE APPRECIATION OF GOOD HORSEMANSHIP IN OUR
CITY OF BEAUTIFUL ENVIRONMENTS, AND WHOSE GENEROUS AND ABLE
ADMINISTRATION HAS AFFORDED THE LOVERS OF THE SADDLE SO MANY
OCCASIONS OF RARE ENTERTAINMENT,
These Pages are Inscribed
BY
A MEMBER.
_Since--as it has been our fortune to be long engaged about horses--we
consider that we have acquired some knowledge of horsemanship, we
desire also to intimate to the younger part of our friends how we
think that they may bestow their attention on horses to the best
advantage._
XENOPHON on Horsemanship, I. I.
Transcriber's Note: The Table of Contents have been moved from the back of
the book to the front.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. Patroclus and I 19
II. Saddles and Seats 22
III. Patroclus on a Rack 28
IV. The Rack and Single-Foot 29
V. Patroclus Trotting 32
VI. Thoroughbred or Half-Bred 33
VII. The Saddle Mania 35
VIII. Park-Riding 37
IX. A Fine Horse not necessarily a Good Hack 39
X. Soldiers have Stout Seats 41
XI. A Gate and a Brook 44
XII. The Old Trooper 48
XIII. Instruction in Riding 49
XIV. Chilly Fox-Hunting 51
XV. Is Soldier or Fox-Hunter the Better Rider? 55
XVI. The School-Rider 56
XVII. Patroclus happy 59
XVIII. Photography versus Art 61
XIX. A One-Man Horse 69
XX. Baucher's Favorite Saddle Horse 70
XXI. Patroclus sniffs a Friend 73
XXII. Riding-Schools and School-Riding 74
XXIII. Is Schooling of Value? 76
XXIV. Manuals of Training 82
XXV. Result of Training 83
XXVI. Qualities of the Horse 86
XXVII. Dress, Saddles, and Bridles 87
XXVIII. Mounting 89
XXIX. How to hold the Reins 92
XXX. How to begin Training 94
XXXI. Penelope's Unrestrained Courage 97
XXXII. Hints before beginning to train a Horse 98
XXXIII. Guiding by the Neck 104
XXXIV. What an Arched Neck means 109
XXXV. Flexions of the Neck 113
XXXVI. Flexions of the Croup 116
XXXVII. The Canter 121
XXXVIII. Leading with either Shoulder 125
XXXIX. The Horse's Natural Lead 131
XL. The Best Way to teach the Lead 135
XLI. Change of Lead in Motion 138
XLII. Suggestions 141
XLIII. How to begin Jumping 143
XLIV. The Reins in the Jump 148
XLV. Odds and Ends of Leaping 152
XLVI. Hunting and Road-Riding 155
XLVII. Advantages of True Rack 157
XLVIII. Who is the Best Rider? 160
XLIX. Vale! 166
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
1. PATROCLUS _Frontispiece._
2. A QUIET AMBLE 12
3. THE RACK OR RUNNING WALK 24
4. A SHARP SINGLE-FOOT 36
5. AN EASY CANTER 48
6. A TEN-MILE TROT 60
7. RISING TO A HURDLE 72
8. FLYING A HURDLE 84
9. CLEAN ABOVE IT 96
10. TAKING OFF AT WATER 108
11. DOING IT HANDILY 120
12. A TWENTY-FOOT JUMP 132
13. ABOUT TO LAND 144
14. LANDING 156
BEFORE MOUNTING.
But a few months since, the author, whose thirty odd years in the
saddle in many parts of the world have, he trusts, taught him that
modesty which should always be bred of usage, was showing some of
the instantaneous photographs of his horse Patroclus to a group of
Club men. Most of the gentlemen were old friends, but one of the
photographs having been passed to a by-stander, whose attire marked
him as belonging to the most recently developed Boston type of
horsemen, elicited, much to his listeners' entertainment, the remark
that "naw man can wide in a saddle like that, ye know, not weally
wide, ye know! naw _fawm_, ye know! wouldn't be tolewated in our
school, ye know!" The author was informed by a mutual acquaintance
that the gentleman was taking a course of lessons at the swellest
riding academy of the city, and had recently imported an English
gelding. In deference to such excellent authority, whose not unkindly
meant, if somewhat brusquely uttered, criticism may be said to have
inspired these pages, otherwise perhaps without a suitable _motif_,
an explanation appears to be called for, lest by some other youthful
equestrian critics the physician be advised to heal himself.
The exclusive use of the English hunting-rig and crop for all kinds
and conditions of men at all times and in all places is well
understood by old horsemen to be but a matter of fashion which time
may displace in favor of some other novelty. For their proper purpose
they are undeniably the best. But to the newly fledged equestrian who
makes them his shibboleth, and who discards as "bad form" any
variation upon the road from what is eminently in place after hounds,
the author, with an admiration for the excellencies of the English
seat derived from half a dozen years' residence in the Old Country and
many a sharp run in the flying-counties, and with the consciousness
that, if tried in the balance of to-day's Anglomania, his own seat, as
shown in some of the illustrations, may chance to be found wanting,
desires to explain that, during the Civil War, outrageous fortune,
among other slings and arrows, sent him to the rear with the loss of a
leg; but that far from giving up a habit thus become all the more
essential because he could no longer safely sit a flat saddle, he
concluded to supplement his lack of grip (as the Marquis of Anglesea
for a similar reason had done before him) by the artificial support
which is afforded in the rolls and pads of a somerset or demi-pique,
as well as to adopt the seat best suited to his disability. And it was
such a saddle, of a pattern perhaps too pronounced to suit even the
author's eye, however comfortable and safe,--particularly so in
leaping, which provoked the censure, perhaps quite justifiable
according to the light of the critic, which has been quoted above.
This variation, however, by no means conflicts with the author's
belief in, and constant advocacy of, the flat English saddle _in its
place_. But he has seen so many accomplished riders in quite different
saddles, that he became long ago convinced that the English tree by no
means affords the only perfect seat. In fact, the saddle best suited
to universal use, that is, the one which might best serve a man under
any conditions, approaches, in his opinion, more nearly the modified
military saddle of to-day than the hunting type.
Nor because a local fashion, set but yesterday, prescribes strict
adherence to a style he cannot follow, is the author less ready to
venture upon giving a friendly word of advice to many of our young and
aspiring riders. There are not a few gentlemen in Boston, whose months
in the saddle number far less than the author's years, to whose
courage and discretion as horsemen he yields his very honest
admiration, and whose stanch hunters he is happy to follow across
country, nor ashamed if he finds he has lost them from sight. He
regrets to say that he has also seen not a few who affect to sneer at
a padded saddle or a horse with a long tail, who seem incapable of
throwing their heart across a thirty inch stone wall in a burst after
hounds, although upon the road they seek to impress one as constantly
riding to cover.
It is unnecessary, however, to say that the author has too long been a
lover of equestrianism _per se_ not to admire the good and be tolerant
of the bad for the total sum of gain which the horseback mania of
to-day affords. He is old enough to remember that human nature remains
the same, however fast the world may move, and is firm in the belief
that we shall soon grow to be a nation of excellent horsemen.
[Illustration: PLATE II.
A QUIET AMBLE.]
There is no pretense to make these pages a new manual for horse-training
or for riding. There are plenty of good books on horsemanship now in
print; but unfortunately there are few riders who care for anything
beyond a superficial education of either their horses or themselves.
More than rudimentary--if viewed in the light of the High School--the
hints in this volume can scarcely be considered. If any incentive to
the study of the real art and to the better training of saddle beasts
is given, all that these pages deserve will have been gained.
The plates are phototype reproductions from photographs of Patroclus,
taken in action by Baldwin Coolidge. Their origin lay in the belief
that a fine-gaited horse could be instantaneously photographed, and
still show the agreeable action which all horse-lovers admire, and
have been habituated to see drawn by artists, instead of the ungainly
positions usually resulting from the instantaneous process. The object
aimed at--to show an anatomically correct and artistically acceptable
horse in each case--has, it is thought, been gained, so far, at least,
as motion arrested can ever give the idea of motion.
Out of thirty photographs taken, the fourteen herein given, and one or
two others, much resembling some of these, showed an agreeable action.
The best positions of the horse were often the poorest photographs. In
enlarging them by solar prints for the phototype process, the shadows
of the horse have been darkened, or in some instances, where a
negative has been blurred or injured, an indistinct line has been
strengthened. In some plates the photograph was so clear (as Plates
IV. and V.) that no darkening of the shadows was necessary. In others
(as Plates VII. and VIII.) the negative, though showing excellent
position, was so weak as to require a good deal of treatment. But in
even the most indistinct ones the outline and crude shadows were
clearly shown by the negatives, and followed absolutely in treating
the solar prints. The plates are thus obtained intact from the
original instantaneous negatives, and faithfully represent the action
and spirit of the horse. The jumping pictures were taken against the
natural background, the others against a screen or building. In the
latter, the entire background has been made white, for greater
distinctness. The water-jump was in reality a dry ditch of eleven feet
wide from bar to bank. But being hidden in the original negatives by
the heaps of earth thrown up in digging it, and several of the
negatives being blurred in the foreground, the water was added in the
solar prints. To preserve anatomical accuracy, the finer results of
both photography and of the phototype process have had to be
sacrificed.
To state that the author has often witnessed the prize leaping at the
Agricultural Hall Horse Show in London, as well as watched the contest
of many a noted English steeple-chase, will absolve him from any
suspicion of parading these photographs as examples of excellent
performance. They were all taken in cold blood on one occasion, and
Patroclus was ridden alone over the obstacles at least a dozen times
for each good picture secured. Every horseman knows that this is a
pretty sound test of a willing jumper, if not a crack one. Moreover,
the author has been acquainted with too many masters of equitation, at
home as well as abroad, to harbor any but a very modest opinion of his
own equestrian ability. He would be much more sensitive to criticism
of Patroclus than of himself, for he knows the horse to be an
exceptionally good one within his limitations, while always conscious
that his own seat lacks the firmness of ante-bellum days. It used to
be said in the Old Country that an Englishman keeps his seat to manage
his horse, and that a Frenchman manages his horse to keep his seat.
The author is obliged to confess that to-day he is often reduced to
the latter practice.
The hurdles were somewhat over four feet high; behind each was a bar
just four feet from the ground. The water-jumps were from fifteen to
eighteen feet from taking-off to landing. On a number of occasions (as
in Plate XII.) Patroclus covered over twenty measured feet in this
jump.
As is manifest from a few of the plates, it was the action of the
horse, and not the "form" of the rider, which it was aimed to secure.
It is easy to make engravings in which the seat of the rider shall be
perfect; but in all the wood-cut illustrations of books on equitation
the horse is usually anatomically incorrect, however artistically
suggestive. One never sees the photograph of a horse clearing an
obstacle in which the rider's form is as perfect as it is apt to
be depicted in engravings or paintings. And in some of the within
illustrations of road gaits there is apparent a carelessness in both
seat and reins which would scarcely do in the accomplishment of the
high airs of the _manege_, but into which a rider is sometimes apt
unconsciously to lapse. No one is probably better aware of what is
good and bad alike in these plates than the author himself. He
appreciates "form" at its exact value, but is constrained to believe
that the true article comes from sources far removed from, and of
vastly more solid worth than the pigskin which covers a rider's
saddle, or the shears which bang his horse's tail. The searching power
of photography, however, is no respecter of form or person.
A word of thanks should not be omitted to Mr. Coolidge, whose
excellent judgment and keen eye in taking these pictures, without
other apparatus than his lens, is well shown by the result, nor to the
Lewis Engraving Company for their careful reproductions from material
by no means perfect.
Perhaps it should be said that Master Tom and Penelope, who figure in
these pages, are as really in the flesh as Patroclus, and by no means
mere fictions of the imagination.
There is no instruction pretended to be conveyed by these plates, as
there is in the similarly obtained illustrations of Anderson's
excellent "Modern Horsemanship." Their purpose is less to point a
moral than to adorn a tale. But an apology to all is perhaps due for
the very chatty manner in which the author has taken his friend, the
reader, into his confidence, and to experienced horsemen for the very
elementary hints sometimes given. The pages devoted to Penelope are
meant for young riders who, like Master Tom, really want to learn.
THEODORE AYRAULT DODGE.
BROOKLINE, MASS., _April, 1885_.
PATROCLUS AND PENELOPE.
A CHAT IN THE SADDLE.
I.
We are fast friends, Patroclus, and many's the hour since, five years
ago, I bought you, an impetuous but good-tempered and intelligent
three-year-old colt, whom every one thought too flighty to be of much
account, that you and I have spent in each other's company upon the
pretty suburban roads of Boston. And many's the scamper and frolic
that we've had across the fields, and many's the quiet stroll through
the shady woods! For you and I, Patroclus, can go where it takes a
goodish horse to follow in our wake. I wonder, as I look into your
broad and handsome face, whether you know and love me as well as I do
you. Indeed, when you whinny at my distant step, or rub your
inquisitive old nose against my hands or towards my pocket, begging
for another handful of oats or for a taste of salt or sugar; or when
you confidingly lower your head to have me rub your ears, with so much
restful intelligence beaming from your soft, brown eyes, and such
evident liking for my company, I think you know how warm my heart
beats for you. And how generous the blood which courses through your
own tense veins your master knows full well. If I had to flee for my
life, Patroclus, I should wish that your mighty back, tough thews, and
noble courage could bear me through the struggle. For I never called
upon you yet, but what there came the response which only the truest
of your race can give.
No, Pat! you've got all the sugar you can have to-day. My pockets are
not a grocer's shop. Stand quiet while I mount, and you and I will
take our usual stroll.
* * * * *
Patroclus is said to have been sired in the Old Country out of a
cavalry mare brought over by an English officer to Quebec, and there
foaled in Her Majesty's service. Even this much I had on hearsay. But
he has the instincts of the charger in every fibre,--and perhaps the
most intelligent and best saddle beasts among civilized nations belong
to mounted troops. As old Hiram Woodruff used to say, Patroclus makes
his own pedigree. I know what he is; I care not whence he came.
No need to extol your points. Though there be those of higher lineage,
and many a speedier horse upon the turf, or perchance a grander
performer after hounds, thrice your value to whoso will find fault or
blemish upon you, my Patroclus! You are blood-bay and glossy as a
satin kerchief. You are near sixteen hands; short coupled enough to
carry weight, and long enough below to take an ample stride. You tread
as light as a steel watch-spring quivers. A woman's face has rarely a
sweeter or more trusting look than yours in repose; a falcon's eye is
no keener when aroused. You will follow me like a dog, and your little
mistresses can fondle you in stall or paddock. You have all the life
and endurance of the thoroughbred, the intelligence of the Arab, the
perfect manners of the park, and the power and discretion of a Midland
Counties hunter. Like the old song, you have
"A head like a snake, and a skin like a mouse,
An eye like a woman, bright, gentle, and brown;
With loins and a back that would carry a house,
And quarters to lift you smack over a town."
May it be many a year yet, Patroclus, before I must pension you off
for good!
* * * * *
You stand for me to mount as steady as a rock. And you know your
crippled master's needs so well that you would do it in the whirl of a
stampede. I will leave the reins upon your neck and let you walk
whither your own fancy dictates, for I am lazily inclined; though
indeed I know from your tossing head that you fain would go a livelier
gait. So long as you can walk your four full miles an hour, you will
have to curb your ardor for many a long stretch, while your master
chews the cud of sweet and bitter fancies.
* * * * *
As we saunter along, the reflections bred of thirty odd years in the
saddle come crowding up. From a Shelty with a scratch-pack in Surrey a
generation since, to many a cavalry charge with bugle-clash and
thundering tread on Old Dominion soil now twenty years ago, the daily
life with that best of friends,--save always one,--the perfect saddle
horse, brings many thoughts to mind. What if we jot them down?
II.
The most common delusion under which the average equestrian is apt to
labor in every part of the world is that his own style of riding
is the one _par excellence_. Whether the steeple-chaser on his
thoroughbred, or the Indian on his mustang is the better rider, cannot
well be decided. The peculiar horsemanship of every country has its
manifest advantages, and is the natural outgrowth of, as well as
peculiarly adapted to, the climate, roads, and uses to which the horse
is put. The cowboy who can defy the bucking broncho will be unseated
by a two-year-old which any racing-stable boy can stick to, while this
same boy would hardly sit the third stiff boost of the ragged,
grass-fed pony. The best horseman of the desert would be nowhere in
the hunting-field. The cavalry-man who, with a few of his fellows, can
carve his way through a column of infantry, may not be able to compete
at polo with a Newport swell. The jockey who will ride over five and a
half feet of timber or twenty feet of water would make sorry work in
pulling down a lassoed steer. Each one in his element is by far the
superior of the other, but none of these is just the type of horseman
whom the denizen of our busy cities, for his daily enjoyment, cares to
make his pattern.
The original barbarian, no doubt, clasped his undersized mount with
all the legs he had, as every natural rider does to-day. When saddle
and stirrups came into use, followed anon by spurs, discretion soon
taught the grip with knee and thigh alone, the heels being kept for
other purposes than support. It must, however, be set down to the
credit of the original barbarian that he probably did not ride in the
style known as "tongs on a wall." This certainly not admirable seat
originated with the knight in heavy armor, and has since been adhered
to by many nations, and, through the Spaniards, has found its way to
every part of the Americas. But as a rule, wild riders have the bent
knee which gives the firmest bareback seat. The long stirrup and high
cantle must not be condemned for certain purposes. When not carried to
the furthest extreme they have decided advantages. It is by no means
sure that any other seat would be equally easy on the cantering
mustang for so many scores of miles a day as many men on the plains
customarily cover. And though for our city purposes and mounts it is
distinctly unavailable, one must be cautious in depreciating a seat
which is clung to so tenaciously by so many splendid riders. It is a
mistake to suppose that the Southerners and Mexicans, as well as
soldiers, all ride with straight leg. While you often see this fault
carried to an extreme among all these, the best horsemen I have
generally observed riding with a naturally bent knee. And it takes a
great deal to convince a good rider of any of these classes that a man
who will lean and rise to a trot knows the A B C of equestrianism.
[Illustration: PLATE III.
THE RACK OR RUNNING WALK.]
Whether the first saddle had a short seat and long stirrups, _a la
militaire_, or a long seat with short ones, _a l'Anglaise_, matters
little. Though the original home of the horse boasts to-day the
shortest of stirrups (and even in Xenophon's time this appears to have
been the Asiatic habit), a reasonably long one would seem to have been
the most natural first step from the bareback seat. If so, what is it
that has gradually lengthened the seat of the Englishman, who
represents for us to-day the favorite type of civilized horsemanship,
and if not the best, perhaps nearest that which is best suited to our
Eastern wants?
No doubt, in early days, horses were mainly ridden on a canter or a
gallop. If perchance a trot, it was a mere shog, comfortable enough
with a short seat and high cantle. The early horse was a short-gaited
creature. But two things came gradually about. Dirt roads grew into
turnpikes; and the pony-gaited nag began, about the days of the Byerly
Turk, nearly two hundred years ago, to develop into the long-striding
thoroughbred. The paved pike speedily proved that a canter sooner
injures the fetlock joints of the forelegs and strains the sinews of
the hind than a trot, and men merciful unto their beasts or careful of
their pockets began to ride the latter gait. But when the step in the
trot became longer and speedier as the saddle horse became better
bred, riders were not long in finding out that to rise in the stirrups
was easier for both man and beast, and as shorter stirrups materially
aid the rise, the seat began to grow in length. It has been proved
satisfactorily to the French, who have always been "close" riders,
that to rise in the trot saves the horse to a very great percentage,
put by some good authorities at as high a figure as one sixth.
Moreover, it was not a strange step forward. That it is natural to
rise in the trot is shown by there being to-day many savage or
semi-civilized tribes which practice the habit in entire
unconsciousness of its utility being a disputed point anywhere.
Another reason for shortening the leathers no doubt prevailed. The
English found the most secure seat for vigorous leaping to be the long
one. Of course a little obstacle can be cleared in any saddle; but
with the long seat, the violent exertion of the horse in a high jump
does not loosen the grip with knees and calves, but at most only
throws one's buckskin from the saddle, as indeed it should not even do
that. For the knees being well in front of, instead of hanging below,
the seat of honor, enables a man to lean back and sustain the jar of
landing without parting company with his mount, while a big jump with
stirrups too long, if it unseats you at all, loosens your entire grip,
or may throw you against the pommel in a highly dangerous manner.
Moreover, with short stirrups, the horse is able on occasion to run
and jump "well away from under you," while, except during the leap
itself, the weight for considerable distances may be sustained by the
stirrups alone, and thus be better distributed for the horse over
ground where the footing is unsteady, as it is in ridge and furrow.
No better illustration of the uses of these several seats than an
English cavalry officer. On parade he will ride with the longest of
stirrups compatible with not sitting on his crotch. To rise in the
saddle is a forbidden luxury to the soldier. Despite some recent
experiments in foreign service, and the fact that on the march the
cavalry-man may be permitted to rise, nay, encouraged to do so, what
more ridiculous than a troop of cavalry on parade, each man bobbing up
and down at his own sweet will? The horse suitable for a trooper is a
short, quick-gaited, handy animal, chosen largely for this quality,
and made still more so by being taught to work in a collected manner
by the _manege_. You can very comfortably sit him with a military
saddle at a pretty sharp parade trot. Now, suppose our cavalry officer
is going for a canter in Rotten Row,--he will at once shorten his
stirrup-leathers a couple of holes; and if he were going to ride
cross-country, he would shorten them still a couple more. Experience
has taught him the peculiar uses of each position.
Some writers claim that one seat ought to suffice for all occasions.
And so it can be made to do. This one seat may, however, not always be
the best adapted to the work immediately in hand, or to the animal
ridden. A slight change is often a gain. Every one has noticed that
different horses, as well as different ground ridden over, vary the
rider's seat in the same saddle.
But excellent as is the long hunting-seat in its place, one can
conceive no more ridiculous sight than the English swell I once saw in
Colorado, who had brought his own pigskin with him, and started out
for a ten days' ride across the prairie on an Indian pony, the only
available mount. The pony's short gait was admirable for a long day's
jaunt in a peaked saddle, but so little suited to a cross-country rig,
that the swell's condition at the end of the first fifty miles must
have been pitiable. This unusual "tenderfoot" exhibition elicited a
deal of very natural laughter, and its butt, who was an excellent but
narrow-minded horseman, though he stuck with square-toed British pluck
to his rig for a few days, came back to Denver equipped _a la_ cowboy.
His Piccadilly saddle had been abandoned to the prairie-dogs.
III.
Patroclus watches his rider's mood. He has become contemplative too,
and has taken kindly to our sober pace. But you shall have your turn,
my glossy pet. Let us get off this macadamized road where we can find
some cantering ground.
As I shorten the reins, 'tis indeed a pleasure to see your head come
up, neck arched, eye brightening, alternate ears moving back to catch
your master's word, feet at once gathered under you, and nerves and
muscles on keenest tension. Every motion is springy, elastic, bold,
and free, as full of power as it is of ease. No wonder, Patroclus,
that eyes so often turn to watch you. No wonder that you seem
conscious that they do. For though we both know that the first test of
the horse is performance, yet having that, there is pleasure to us
both in your graceful gaits.
To give the reins the least possible shake will send you into the most
ecstatic of running walks, as fast as one needs to go, and so easy
that it is a constant wonder how you do it. This is no common amble or
bumping pace, but the true four beat rack. And as you toss your head
and champ your bit, Patroclus, with the pleasure of your accelerated
motion, how well you seem to know the comfort of your rider.
IV.
This running walk or rack, by the way, is one of the most delightful
of gaits. Its universal adoption in the South by every one who can buy
a racker is due to the roads, which, for many months of the year, are
so utterly impassable that you have to pick your way in and out of the
woods and fields on either side, and rarely meet a stretch where you
can start into a swinging trot. But a horse will fall from a walk into
a rack, or _vice versa_, with the greatest of ease to himself and
rider, and if the stretch is but a hundred yards will gain some
distance in that short bit of ground. If you have a fifty mile ride
over good roads in comfortable weather, perhaps a smart trot, if easy,
of course alternating with the walk, is as good a single gait as you
can ride. But you need to trot or canter a goodly stretch, not to
shorten rein at every dozen rods, for the transition from a walk to
either of these gaits or back again, though slight, is still an
exertion; while from the walk to the rack and back the change is so
imperceptible that one is made conscious of it only by the patter of
the horse's feet. Here again, the country's need, roads, and climate
have bred a most acceptable gait. But it has made the Southerner
forget what an inspiriting thing a swinging twelve-mile trot can be
along a smooth and pretty road; and you cannot give away a trotting
horse for use in the saddle south of Mason and Dixon. The rack soon
grows into the single-foot, which only differs from it in being
faster, and the latter is substituted for the trot. To go a six or
eight mile gait, holding a full glass of water in the hand, and not to
spill a drop, is the test of perfection in the racker. And for a lazy
feeling day, or for hot weather, anywhere, it is the acme of comfort.
Or it is, indeed, a useful gait in winter, when it is too cold for a
clipped horse to walk and your nag has yet not stretched his legs
enough to want to go at sharper speed. It must, however, be
acknowledged that it is very rare that a horse will rack perfectly as
well as trot. He is apt to get the gaits mixed.
A rack is half way between a pace and a trot. In the pace, the two
feet of each side move and come down together; in the trot, the two
alternate feet do so. In the running walk, or in the single-foot, each
hind foot follows its leader at the half interval, no two feet coming
to the ground together, but in regular succession, so as to produce
just twice as many foot-falls as a trot or a pace. Hence the _one_,
_two_, _three_, _four_, patter of the horse gives to the ear the
impression of very great rapidity, when really moving at only half the
apparent speed. The result of the step is a swaying, easy back, which
you can sit with as much ease as a walk. Rackers will go a six-mile
gait, single-footers much faster. I once owned a single-footing mare,
who came from Alexander's farm and was sired by Norman, who could
single-foot a full mile in three minutes. As a rule, the speed is not
much more than half that rate. And either a rack or single-foot is apt
to spoil the square trot; or if you break a horse to trot, you will
lose the other gaits. A perfect all-day racker or a speedy
single-footer can scarcely be aught else.
V.
I did not mean to apply that rule to you, Patroclus! We both of us
know better. For the exceptional horse can learn to rack or
single-foot without detriment to his other paces, if he be not kept
upon these gaits too long at any time.
Half a mile ahead of us is the little grass-grown lane, where we can
indulge in a canter or a frolicsome gallop. Shall we quicken our speed
a trifle? Simply a "Trot, Pat!" and on the second step you fall into
as square and level a trot as ever horse could boast. I know how
quickly you obey my voice, old boy, and but one step from my word I am
ready to catch the first rise, and without the semblance of a jar we
are in a full sharp trot. How I love to look over your shoulder,
Patroclus, and see your broad, flat knee come swinging up, and showing
at every step its bony angles beyond the point of your shoulder;
though, indeed, your shoulder is so slanting that the saddle sits well
back, and your rider is too old a soldier to lean much to his trot.
And you will go six to--I had almost said sixteen--miles an hour at
this gait, nor vary an ounce of pressure on your velvety mouth. How is
it, Patroclus, that you catch the meaning of my hands so readily?
VI.
The fancy of to-day is for the daisy-clipping thoroughbred. And when
they do not run to the knife-blade pattern, they may be the finest
mounts a man can throw his leg across. But my fancy for the road has
always been for the higher stepping half-bred. Granted that on the
turf or across a flying country blood will tell. Granted that
brilliant knee action is mainly ornamental. Still, in America, the
half-bred will average much better in looks, and vastly more
satisfactory in hardy service. Where shall we again find the
equivalent of the Morgan breed, now all but lost in the desire to get
the typical running horse? For saddle work, and the very best of its
kind, there was never a finer pattern than the Morgan. Alas, that we
have allowed him to disappear! His worth would soon come to the fore
in these days of saddle pleasures. The thoroughbred's characteristic
is ability to perform prodigies of speed and endurance at exceptional
times. But the strong, every-day-in-the-year good performer is usually
no more than half-bred, if even that. Moreover, you can find a hundred
daisy-clippers for one proud stepper, be he thoroughbred or galloway.
There is such a thing as waste of action. No one wants to straddle a
black Hanoverian out of a hearse. But the horse who steps high may be
as good a stayer as the one who does not, and high action is a beauty
which delights men's eyes and opens their purses. Because the long
stride of the turf is better for being low, it is not safe to apply
this rule to the road.
There are many more worthless brutes among thoroughbreds than among
the common herd. While it is easy to acknowledge that the perfect
thoroughbred excels all other horses, the fact must also be noted that
he is of extremest rarity, and even when found is infrequently up to
weight. If we use the word advisedly, only the horse registered in the
Stud Book is a thoroughbred. These have no early training whatever,
except to allow themselves to be mounted, and to run their best. If
they stand the initial test of speed, they are reserved for the turf,
and there wholly spoiled for the saddle or for any other purpose of
pleasure. If they do not, they are turned adrift, half spoiled in
mouth and manners by tricky stable-boys, and may or may not fall into
good hands. For one thoroughbred with perfect manners, sound, and up
to weight, there are a score of really good half-breds, as near
perfection as their owners choose or are able to make them.
What we in America are apt colloquially to call a thoroughbred is only
a horse which, in his looks, shows some decided infusion of good
blood, or is sired by a well-bred horse. But it is to be remembered
that of two horses with an equal strain of pure blood, one may have
reverted to a coarse physical type, and the other to the finer. And
the one who has inherited the undeniable stamp of the common-bred
ancestor may also have inherited from the other side those qualities
of constitution, courage, intelligence, and speed, which sum up the
value of high English blood. Not one fine-bred horse in one hundred--I
speak from the ownership of, and daily personal intimacy for
considerable periods with, over fifty good saddle beasts,--has as many
of the admirable qualities of pure blood as Patroclus. And yet (_absit
omen_), he has a wave in his tail, and though his feet and legs are
perfect in shape, and as clean as a colt's, they are far beyond the
thoroughbred's in size. He shows that his ancestry runs back both to
the desert and the plough. In America, surely, handsome is that
handsome does. Let us value good blood for its qualities, not looks,
and ride serviceable half-breds, instead of sporting worthless weeds
because they approach to the clothes-horse pattern, or have necks like
camels.
VII.
One of the most distinctly promising features of the athletic
tendencies of to-day is the mania for the saddle. Fifteen years ago,
the boys along the Boston streets used to hoot at your master,
Patroclus. Not, indeed, that he had a poor seat or needed to "get
inside and pull down the blinds," as the London cad might phrase it,
for a good or bad seat was all alike to them; rather at the wholly
unusual sight of a man on horseback--outside of politics.
But the number of good horsemen, and horsewomen too, is growing every
day. Here comes a couple at a brisk round trot. How can we notice the
lad, Patroclus, when the lassie looks so sweetly? In her neat habit,
with dainty protruding foot and ankle, sitting her trappy-gaited mount
with ease and grace, the bloom of health fairly dazzling you as she
rushes by, so that you doubt whether it be her pretty eye and white
teeth or her ruddy skin and happy face which has set even your ancient
heart a-throbbing, how can a woman look more attractive?
[Illustration: PLATE IV.
A SHARP SINGLE-FOOT.]
But the alluring sight is not long-lived. Following hard upon them
comes, not the first rider who has chased a petticoat, a young
Anglomaniac. He fancies that his hunting-crop, his immaculate rig, and
his elbows out-Britishing the worst of British snobs, as he leans far
over his pommel, make him a pattern rider. You can see the daylight
under his knees. A sudden plunge would send him, Lord knows where!
Haply his dock-tailed plug remembers the shafts full well and steadily
plods ahead. But bless his little dudish heart! he will learn better.
As his months in the saddle increase, he will find his seat as well as
his place. We Americans are the making of an excellent race of
horsemen. It is a pleasure to see the increase in the number of
promising riders who seek the western suburbs every day. We shall all
ride, as we manage to do everything, well,--after a while. There is of
course a lot of rubbish and imported--rot, shall we call it? But what
odds? so there is in art, music, politics, religion.
VIII.
You see the corner of the lane, Patroclus, while I have been thus
musing, and your lively ear and instinctively quickened gait rouse my
half-dazed thoughts. Here we are. Shall we take our accustomed canter?
You always wait the word, though you are eagerness itself, for you do
not yet know when I want you to start, or which foot I may ask you to
lead with. Though, indeed, you will sometimes prance a bit, and change
step in the alternate graceful bounds of the passage, to invite and
urge my choice. The least pressure of one leg, and off you go, leading
with the opposite shoulder. And you will keep this foot by the mile,
Patroclus, or change at every second step, should I ask you so to do.
You need but the slightest monition of my leg, and instantly your
other shoulder takes the lead. I see you want to gallop, boy! But not
quite yet. You must not forget that you have been taught, as they say
in Kentucky, to canter all day long in the shade of an apple tree, if
so be it your master wishes. You shall have your gallop anon. But you
must never forget that a horse who can only walk or go a twelve-mile
trot or hand-gallop, though he may lead the hunt cross-country, is an
unmitigated nuisance on the road. Slow and easy gaits are as valuable
to the park-hack as long wind and speed to the racer. And although
Boston, as yet, boasts no Rotten Row, are not the daily rides through
its exquisite environments the equivalent of the canter in that justly
celebrated resort, rather than the mere country tramp upon a handy
roadster or the ride to cover on a rapid covert-hack? And yet our
imitation of our British cousins has approximated less to the pleasure
ride than to the cross-country style. Perhaps, in our eagerness to
convince ourselves that we have learned all there is worth knowing in
the art, we have aped what is confessedly the finest of horseback
sports, and forgotten the more moderate fashion of Hyde Park. Let us
remember that we can saunter on the road every day, while riding to
hounds is for most of us a rarish luxury.
IX.
Because a horse can go well to hounds, it does not follow that he is
fit for park or road work any more than the three-year-old who wins
the Derby or St. Leger is fitted for a palfrey. A horse whose business
it is to run and jump must have his head; while a horse, to be a
clever and agreeable hack, should learn that the bit is a limitation
of his action, and that the slightest movement of the hand or leg of
the rider has its meaning. What is impossible in galloping over
ploughed fields is essential to comfort on the road. In the field,
everything must be subservient to saving the horse; the rider's
comfort is the rule of the park. It is every day that we may see a
rider who deems his excellent hunter a good saddle beast, when,
however clever cross-country, he is absolutely ignorant of the first
elements of the _manege_. He forgets that each is perfect in his
own place and may be useless in the other's.
I am the owner of a fine-bred mare, whom I have as yet had no
opportunity to school. She is the perfect type of a twelve-stone
hunter. After hounds she will attract the eye of the whole field for
distinguished beauty, and ridden up to her capacity, can always be in
the first flight. She has speed, endurance, and fine disposition, is
as sound and hardy as a hickory stick, and in her place unsurpassed.
Almost any of the horsemen of to-day's Modern Athens would select this
mare in preference to Patroclus. And yet, a four-in-hand of her type,
as she now is, Tantivy coach thrown in for make-weight, are not worth
one Patroclus for real saddle work, because she has no conception of
moderate gaits. She is bound to go twelve miles an hour if you let her
out of a walk, or fret at the restraint. I can ride Patroclus
twenty-five miles without fatigue. If I ride the mare ten miles, I
come in tired, drenched with heat, and probably with my temper
somewhat ruffled, while she has fretted to a lather more than once,
and we have both been so hot during the entire ride that, if the day
is raw, it has been dangerous to ease into a walk. If I ride Patroclus
over the same ground in the same time, we shall both come in fresh as
a daisy, dry, and each well-pleased with the other. While this mare
can gallop fast and is easy and kind, a man must work his passage to
make her canter a six-mile gait. She has no more ambition than
Patroclus, but she does not curb it to the will of her rider. With a
knowledge of all which, however, most of our young swells would select
the mare for simple road-riding, because she looks so like a
thoroughbred hunter, and rather suggests the impression that they
habitually ride to hounds. As well saunter in the park in a pink coat
and with "tops carefully dressed to the color of Old Cheddar."
X.
The _manege_ need not mean all the little refinements of training
which, however delightful to the initiated, are unnecessary to comfort
or safety. But no horse can be called a good saddle beast whose
forehand and croup will not yield at once to the lightest pressure
of rein or leg. Most horses will swing their forehands with some
readiness, if not in a well-balanced manner. But not many are taught
to swing the croup at all; very few can do so handily. The perfect
saddle horse should be able to swing his croup about in a complete
circle, of which one fore foot is the immovable centre, or his
forehand about the proper hind foot, in either direction at will. He
should come "in hand," that is, gather his legs well under him, so as
to be on a perfect balance the moment you take up the reins and close
your legs upon him. He should in the canter or gallop start with
either foot leading, or instantly change foot in motion at the will of
his rider. He should have easy, handy gaits, the more the better, if
he can keep them distinct and true. These accomplishments, added to
a light mouth and a temper of equal courage and moderation, or, in
short, "manners," make that rare creature,--the perfect saddle horse.
It is in this that the English err. In their perfect development of
the hunter and the racer they neglect the training of the hack. Though
it be heresy to the mania of the day to say so, it is none the less
true that while you seek your bold as well as discreet and experienced
cross-country rider in England, you must go to the Continent, or among
the British cavalry, to find your accomplished horseman.
It is the general impression among men who ride to hounds, and still
more among men who pretend to do so, that leaping is the _ultima
thule_ of equestrianism; and that a man who can sit a horse over a
four-foot hurdle has graduated in the art of horsemanship. The
corollary to this error is also an article of faith among men who
hunt, that is, that no other class of riders can leap their horses
boldly and well. But both ideas are as strange as they are mistaken.
The cavalry of Prussia, Austria, and Italy show the finest of
horsemanship. More than a quarter century ago, the author spent three
years in Berlin under the tuition of a retired major-general of the
Prussian army, and saw a great deal of the daily inside life, as well
as the exceptional parade life, of the army. He has often seen a
column of cavalry, with sabres drawn, ride across water which would
bring half the Myopia Hunt to a stand-still on an ordinary run after
hounds. Why should not men whose business it is to ride, do so well?
Think you there was not good horsemanship at Vionville, when von
Bredow (one of the author's old school friends, by the way) with his
six squadrons, to enable Bruddenbrock to hold his position till the
reinforcements of the Tenth Corps could reach him, rode into the
centre of the Sixth French Corps d'Armee? In slender line, he and his
men, three squadrons of the Seventh Cuirassiers, and three of the
Sixteenth Uhlans, charged over the French artillery in the first line,
the French infantry in line of battle, and reached the mitrailleuses
and reserves in the rear, where they sabred the gunners at their guns.
What though but thirteen officers and one hundred and fifty men out of
near a thousand returned from that gallant ride? Though no Tennyson
has sung their glorious deed, though we forget the willing courage
with which they faced a certain sacrifice for the sake of duty to the
Fatherland, think you those men rode not well, as a mere act of
horsemanship?
Think you that the handful of men of the Eighth Pennsylvania, at
Chancellorsville, when they charged down upon Stonewall Jackson's
victorious and elated legions, riding in column through the chapparal
and over the fallen timber of the Wilderness, carving their path
through thousands of the best troops who ever followed gallant leader,
sat not firmly in their saddles? Think you that the men who followed
Sheridan in many a gallant charge, or Fitz Hugh Lee, forsooth, could
not ride as well as the best of us across a bit of turf, with a modest
wall now and then to lend its zest to the pleasure? Neither we nor our
British cousins can monopolize all the virtue of the world, even in
the art equestrian.