This really explained the English saddle in terms of sport, which any
fellow ought to understand. So I tried the saddle again, and found
that one could ride straight leg at any gait quite easily by merely
dispensing with the stirrups. It was almost as good as bareback.
But with the leathers shortened, riding bent-leg, one could actually
use the stirrups. Since then I have put my stock saddles away, and
taken recruit lessons in the riding school. A little powdered resin
on the leather straps of one's breeches makes them look quite smart
and deceives the Instructor in Equitation. Still, I am a novice,
trying in vain to rise at the trot with that poke forward of the head
which so beautifully imitates the movement of a hen as she enquires
for worms.
It is only by practical testing that I learned the qualities of the
English saddle, and so brought it into comparison with that of the
stock range. It is not easy to free one's mind from bias, to realise
that perfectly sane men {213} have reasonable methods other than
one's own, and that the mere fact that one's critic is an obnoxious
bounder does not dispose of all his arguments. I venture to claim
that the range horseman has intelligence equal to that which guides
British horsemanship, and added to that the deeper intimacy of one
who allows no hired hand to touch his horses, who cares for them as a
hireling never can, and whose life depends upon his competence. It
is from the range point of view that I venture now into the field of
criticism.
To teach a novice to ride with the stock saddle I lead him on to talk
about his girl. By the time he forgets that he is exaggerating on
horseback he rides quite decently.
To teach a novice to ride with the English saddle is a matter of long
and severe training. In the end he rides in spite of a saddle, which
is by no means an aid to horsemanship.
[Sidenote: The two saddles]
The difference between straight leg and bent leg riding is not of the
slightest consequence to the horse. To ride the stock saddle with
comfort the leg must be straight. To ride the English saddle safely
the leg must be bent. The total difference then is one between two
saddles, the English model being excellent for sport, but otherwise
quite useless; while the {214} stock saddle, which cannot possibly be
used for flat racing or jumping, is of value to a man earning a
living on horseback.
II. THE INDOOR HORSE.
[Sidenote: The indoor horse]
HIS HOUSE. Because we love horses we have been seeking guidance from
nature as to their management. "Nature" is only a sort of nickname
for God, who bids us love our horse neighbours as all other
neighbours. If our religion is not a sham it consists of love, and
these our neighbours need a love which must be filled with live
intelligence.
I doubt if God believes in the church I belong to, but I am sure He
approves of our poor attempts to do our loving duty as horsemasters,
as soldiers, or in any trade to which we have been called. This is
the spirit in which I dare to adventure upon criticism, approaching
civilized horsemastership from the singular point of view of the
range horseman.
I do not presume to criticise the management of thoroughbreds, but
wish to speak merely for common horses with whom I may claim
friendship.
In buying a range-bred horse one takes the legs and feet almost for
granted, but in civilization one deals with doubt and misgiving
because the animal for sale is presumably a {215} wrong'un. The one
thing that amazes the range man is the astounding number of ailments
contracted by civilized horses on only four legs in a limited span of
years. It is a strong presumption that there must be something in
civilized horsemastership to account for the general unsoundness of
the stock, the lack of endurance, the total failure in mobility.
The vital needs without which a horse will perish are water and
grass. It is considered that the water flowing from limestone rocks,
which carries carbonate of lime, is best for building bone. It seems
quite possible that other mineral bearing waters have their
usefulness in supplying elements needed for blood, muscle, or nerves.
[Sidenote: Food]
The natural food of a horse is sun-cured tuft grass growing in arid
regions, but a perfect imitation is the usual mixed feed of oats,
chaff and bran, with the common equivalents used for varying diet.
Next in value is the upland pasture of damp climates, worst is the
meadow grass. The conditioning of horses in any green pasturage
depends upon grain, but one should not in any feeding neglect rock
salt.
If sunshine and fresh air were vital needs pit ponies would not live.
Sun and air are no more necessities to a grown horse than eyesight is
to {216} a man. So one needs to examine carefully and to reason
closely as to the actual value even of air and sunshine.
The range is dry, parched, and above all things hard; and from the
hardest ground come the breeds of especial value by reason of sound
limbs and steel-like hoofs. The hardness of ground is due to the
fierce light and heat of desert climates.
Again it is known that sunlight kills the germs of nearly all
diseases, provided the air can reach them.
Unless they are robbed of their coats horses are almost indifferent
to the greatest known extremes of dry heat and dry cold; yet, if
exposed to wind they lose weight rapidly, and are intensely
susceptible to draughts. The horse's natural shelter is a wind break.
[Sidenote: The stable]
To meet all these conditions the stable in rainy climates must have a
roof to keep the standings dry, and yet should be roofed with glass
to let in sufficient light to kill all germs of disease.
Yet any stable, warmed by the heat of horses, however carefully
cleaned, is fouled by their dung and water, and so becomes a forcing
house to breed disease unless one removes the walls. There should be
no walls, but the {217} stable should be built like a Japanese house
with transparent and portable screens, close fitting against
draughts; which can be set up on two windward sides with every shift
of the weather. By no other means can the diseases be swept away
which make the stabled horse a byword for unsoundness.
[Sidenote: Paved floor]
If regions of hardest ground produce the best legs and hoofs, it does
not follow that stables ought to be paved. Natural ground however
hard is springy, but pavement is dead hard and slippery at that. The
English horseman explains "It haint the 'unting as 'urts the 'orses
'oofs, but the 'ammer, 'ammer, 'ammer, on the 'ard 'igh road." All
who have seen the strains and tensions of cowpunching and noted the
perfect soundness of cow ponies will agree that it haint the 'unting.
But anybody who watches English horsemen with pleasure horses has
noted the exceeding care with which they are ridden on the dirt
rather than on the crown of a road, on the grass by the road rather
than on the highways, and on any open route across country, rather
than on the roadside. They get very much less hard going than the
average range horse. The draught horse may suffer from the highway,
but certainly not the hunter who is equally unsound. {218} Yet both
have standings as a rule on a paved floor for not less than eighteen
hours out of the average twenty-four.
[Sidenote: The stable floor]
A notable difference between the sound outdoor horse and the unsound
indoor horse is in this matter of standing, for the range animal
visits but does not live in a stable, while the unsound animal spends
three fourths of his time on a hard pavement. I have noticed also in
travel that when I brought weary horses to a stable with a wooden
floor their pasterns always swelled over night. On a metalled or
paved floor the swelling was almost as bad as on wood, whereas on
earthern standings there was never the slightest trace of
inflammation.
In recent handling of some sixty army horses I took them from pasture
to horse lines without noting much unsoundness on either ground.
Unsoundness developed when I took them to paved stalls, but was much
diminished when I moved them to earth-floored sheds. I find too that
notable horsemasters have removed the pavements from their stables in
favour of clean, dry, well-drained earth standings; or, failing that,
lay bedding a foot deep.
But my experiment has gone further. My horses have not only earth
standings, but sheds so built that they are walled only to {219}
windward. The gain in general health is beyond all question. Both
in theory and in practice I have reason to believe that earth-floored
sheds walled to windward only will cure the chronic unsoundness of
stabled horses, provided that the strongest light possible is brought
to bear for the killing out of disease germs. On the same principle
which imports cats to look after our rats and mice, one might
introduce some benevolent microbe whose duty it would be to eat
disease germs in a stable floor.
III. THE INDOOR HORSE.
[Sidenote: Work]
HIS WORK. So far analysis has shown two types of equipment: the
weight-distributing saddle for war work, ridden straight-leg by
soldiers, stockmen and others earning a living; and the light
slippery saddle for running and jumping adapted to the bent-leg
riding of pleasure horses for sport.
The saddle is but one of several factors in horsemanship, so we must
isolate these factors one by one before we can reach conclusions from
our study.
For the purpose of isolating the several factors in horsemanship, The
Legion of Frontiersmen managed to organize a series of tests on
English highways. In each test two groups {220} of three or four
horsemen apiece, working in rivalry, rode fifty to fifty-five miles
on a Saturday, then back again on the Sunday. Afterwards a
veterinary surgeon reported on the condition of the horses.
[Sidenote: Indoor horses at work]
The first test was made under conditions of unusual heat, and after
one serious case of heat prostration the homeward run had to be made
at night. The riders were veterans to the age of seventy-two, with
an average of two old wounds, and more than two war decorations per
man. Our cab and 'bus horses finished like the riders, in good time
and condition, but did not equal the usual gait of the annual Stock
Exchange competition of men afoot on the same London and Brighton
road.
SADDLES. We never had the rival types of saddles tested by teams,
but each man rode his own, and for short marches like ours the
difference was slight. The men with stock saddles were less weary,
and their horses fresher, but not to any notable degree.
SEAT. In one test a competitor failed us, and was replaced by a
sailor who had not ridden before. At first he butted his horse
backwards into shops, so we had to change about for ten miles until
we found the best mount for his peculiar needs. After that there
{221} remained one hundred miles, and his horse got the best report.
A sailor has balance, and given that mere form is not important.
TYPE OF HORSE. We hired 'bus and cab horses because they were cheap;
but in one of the competitions were opposed by a group of horsemen
riding their private hunters. Our working horses finished fresh and
on time, but the pleasure horses broke down and had to come home by
train.
[Sidenote: Horses at work]
I might enter into the details of a dozen other exercises which
tested the indoor horse and the English equipment, but all may be
summed up in a single broad generalization. The pleasure horse and
his equipment are so highly specialized for running and jumping that
they have ceased to possess the slightest value for civil and
military working horsemanship.
{222}
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SOLDIER HORSE.
[Sidenote: Regular cavalry]
A habit of enlisting for campaigns has given me some desultory
training with British irregular and auxiliary forces--Horse, Foot and
Guns. Without the slightest pretensions as a soldier I have enjoyed,
on active service, watching the military practice in horsemastership
in its amusing contrasts with the methods of frontier life.
It seems to me that the British and especially the Irish
horse-breeding, and the national amusements for mounted men--hawking,
stag-hunting, fox-hunting, steeplechases, flat races, and polo--for
example, have given to British mounted troops the basis of a
horsemastership which has been gratefully copied by civilized armies
and disabled the mobility of all alike. The cult of the pleasure
horse has ousted the old sober methods of war horsemanship. This may
in part account for the chasing of the Spaniards and Portuguese by
their lively American colonists, of the British by the {223}
Argentines, Americans and Afghans, of the French by the Mexicans, of
the Germans by the Damaras, of the Italians by the peoples of
Erythrea and Cyrenaica, and of the Russians by the Japanese. Three
hundred thousand of my countrymen spent three-and-a-half years in
persuading fifty-five thousand Boers to accept full compensation for
their losses. This episode filled with unholy joy the nations which
had not lately been whipped by mere outsiders because they had
prudently abstained from war. One does not recall, however, so very
many recent campaigns in which barbaric horsemanship has been put to
shame and flight by any regular cavalry.
So, if my adventure in uncouth criticism bears incidentally upon
British methods, its motive is merely to discover why civilized
mounted troops are not quite a success in dealing with irregulars of
the open range. If Army methods are really the best, they should
have an unbroken chronicle of victory. If range methods are really
the best, the military art of horsemanship needs thinking over by
every civilized horseman who loves his country.
If the defeat of civilized armies is not explained by their
horsemastership, it is not less in need of explanation.
{224}
[Sidenote: Armies]
I hold it as an article of faith that the British Army is not
excelled, man for man, by any in Europe, but does greatly surpass all
others in its power of adapting itself to new conditions, maintaining
its powers at great distances from its base, and perfecting in its
troops the highest ideals of manhood. And yet in all armies men are
taught to obey before they think, and, thought being secondary to
discipline, is rather apt to lag. The discipline which creates a mob
into a weapon tends to disable men in army trades other than that of
fighting, so that the departmental or thinking departments are less
efficient than the executive. Character is trained to a supreme
degree, and the military courts are cleaner, quicker and more direct
than the civil in doing justice. Yet intellect takes its chance of
surviving discipline. In a world which is managed by men too old to
be receptive of new thought, the person with original ideas is looked
upon as a public enemy, and the Army is always certain he must be an
awful bounder. The aeroplane, for example, was more important as a
military idea than anything since the invention of gunpowder, but the
inventors and manufacturers in several countries went bankrupt while
they waited in vain for orders from. {225} the armies. The German
War Office was the first to come to their rescue.
It is only by such reasoning as this that one understands why mounted
soldiers are given breeches with buckskin straps to help them to grip
a saddle specially treated with beeswax to make it slippery.
Constructive thought would remove the strapping to make the breeches
slippery as the saddle; or, if a grip is wanted would retain the
strapping, and roughen the saddle seat and panels by using the
leather inside out, or replacing the surface with buckskin.
[Sidenote: The hunting-seat]
Early in the eighteenth century British racing and fox-hunting became
fully organized sports which needed bent-leg riding and a slippery,
light saddle. The British Army was not officered by professional
soldiers, but by sportsmen who bought commissions. The training of
officers was in the hunting field, and the old straight leg,
weight-distributing war saddle gave place to something really
up-to-date. This was the military saddle, too cumbersome for running
or jumping, too small for weight-distribution, and therefore useless
either for sport or war.
Meanwhile the Riding Masters who were professional soldiers, and
ceased to learn when {226} they began to teach, wrought with
fanatical zeal to compel straight-leg riding on a bent-leg saddle,
and so got a magnificent tally of ruptures and sore tails. In 1805
Prussian instructors were brought to England to enforce the
straight-leg seat on the bent-leg saddle. It is only in the
twentieth century that this wonderful kidney-crusher military seat
has been mercifully abandoned. The army has adopted the hunting
seat, and one reads the last word in Major Birch's book on "Modern
Riding."
[Sidenote: Horsemanship for war]
"The rough-riders from the Royal Artillery Riding Establishment,
using the hunting seat, sat perfectly without either reins or
stirrups over a five-foot six-inch rail--one horse jumping six
feet--besides other formidable obstacles, which proves that no better
seat could be wanted for practical work."
The practical work, one notes, for a civilized Army, is jumping!
What is the horse to be used for? Pleasure?
By all means let the high-strung, highly-fed, massaged,
hospital-bred, courageous, and powerful but exceedingly delicate
blooded horse be used for pleasure, and for pleasure only. One does
not use a racing yacht for cruising, because she is too fragile, or
for cargo because {227} she has no stowage. Use the blooded horse
for running and jumping, with a day's rest following each day's
sport. It does not matter if the rider's weight is concentrated on
the space of a postage stamp. It only matters that the equipment be
light for high speed, and slippery to throw the rider in case he is
not wanted on the saddle.
[Sidenote: Mobility]
What is the horse to be used for? War? Then if we love our country
let us forget tradition, take a rest from filling up returns, and set
ourselves to the exercise of human reason until we find out what we
really want. Why do we use the horse in war? To carry men, to haul
guns, and draw supplies. Why do we use the horse for transport? To
quicken the pace, and ease the labour of men. Why do we need this
mobility? In order to concentrate troops at distant points where
they were not expected. Mobility is not jumping on Germans, but the
long, swift march that covers and supplies the advance or the retreat
which shall decide the issue. Mobility may include the getting and
rendering of vital news, the sudden seizure of a strong position, or
even the special privilege and glory of shock action.
Those of us who indulged ourselves in the {228} habit of thinking,
knew many years ago that mechanical transport would carry and haul
men and supplies much quicker than horses could upon a highway. But
we also observed that war destroys the road, and that campaigning is
a cross-country exercise wherein the horse can hold his own against
the car.
In the same way we knew as far back as 1896 that aerial warfare would
evolve in three phases: reconnaissance, fleet engagements, and
occupations in force with aerial transport.
Yet, while the car and the aircraft have been foreseen by everybody
who took the trouble to think, we have to deal in fact with present
needs for troops transported by horses, for whom the word mobility
means rapid and sustained haulage and carriage of weight. It is not
the art of jumping hedges, because they do not exist in any probable
terrain of war.
What then, are the factors for mobility?
[Sidenote: The pleasure horse]
BREEDING. In the throes of war for our existence, while every luxury
must be dispensed with and every available man called to the colours,
the British Government is solicitous to preserve hunting and racing.
The authorities would preserve the trade of horse-breeding lest there
be scarcity of army remounts. Let us breed pleasure-horses, they
{229} tell us, in order to secure a stock of working horses. So let
us encourage yachting to give us ships for cargo. Let us breed
guinea-pigs as material to coin guineas. "If a yard of soap will
make a flannel waistcoat for a pig, how far is it from the dome of
St. Paul's to Christmas Day?" So mental confusion verge upon madness.
The mettle of our pastures, and perfect artistry in selective
breeding, have given to the British Isles the leadership of nations
with almost every type of domestic livestock. But the high
specialization of each type for a single function disables it for
every other use. We have never bred a horse specialized for that
single purpose of rapid and sustained marching, which is mobility.
Our pleasure horses, excellent for sport, are expensive, delicate,
unsound--lacking in endurance when we put them to serious work. As
yeast is to dough, blood is to any livestock, and there must be
thoroughbred blood in any working horse who has to face the terrors
of modern war; but if there is any guidance in the origin and natural
history of horses, the one type to give mobility to an army must be
bred away from all green grasses and soft ground, on those arid
plains which alone can make sound limbs, hard hoofs, {230} strong
teeth and high endurance. It would be most reasonable to breed from
Duns.
[Sidenote: Breeding the war horse]
As the Royal North-West Mounted Police of Canada have double the
mobility of any regular troops in the world, their system of getting
horses may be worth considering. Certain ranches of Western Canada
have imported British thoroughbred studs, and bred from range mares a
strain known as the Broncho. Averaging fifteen hands two inches, and
1,025 pounds in weight, these gelded horses and mares are raised on
range grass under range conditions, broken at the ranches and bought
for the Mounted Police at contract rates.
Ranches in any arid lands of the Empire such as Southern Alberta,
South Central British Columbia, Western South Africa, or Australia,
would supply a stock for the army much sounder, and more enduring
than any horses which can possibly be bred on soft ground or green
grass.
[Sidenote: Management]
MANAGEMENT. Our analysis of the stable showed the closed shed as a
forcing house for disease germs, and the metalled floor as preventing
a horse from resting on his feet. To copy the natural conditions of
healthy range life the building needs the dry floor which {231}
involves a roof, earth standings on which a horse can rest, and a
wind screen to keep out bad weather. In practice this open
earth-floored shed kills out the germs of disease, rests the horse,
and so prevents or cures the maladies of the feet and legs which
disable indoor stock. But, while the horse is fairly sound so soon
as one adapts his home to the conditions required for his health; no
indoor life trains either horses or horsemen for the mobility needed
in campaigns.
The civilized stable management with grooming and massage, clipping
and singeing, docking and trimming of tails, hogging the manes, and
all the practice which involves the use of clothing is excellent with
the indoor horse. In the same way a hospital is good for the sick,
but not the sort of gymnasium which makes men strong and hardy. The
treatment makes a horse glossy and beautiful, but sensitive rather
than robust. It does not make the horse an outdoor person able to
face bad weather, rough feeding and long marches. For that we must
consider outdoor management as applied to an outdoor horse.
[Sidenote: Indoor management outdoors]
The British South African Field Force lost 340,000 horses, some of
them civilized, others from wild ranges. I was serving in an
irregular {232} unit when a bunch of Argentine remounts arrived in
camp. They showed signs of exhaustion from their voyage, but had not
been pastured after their landing in Africa. The grass surrounding
our camp was fairly good, free from disease, and secure from attack
by day. So the officer commanding shackled the remounts in our
lines, and I was punished for feeding mine with grass. There was no
hay, so the horses had straight oats. As the sky cleared or clouded
the weather was frosty or snowy, so the horses were blanketed. The
blankets were always sodden except when they stiffened with ice. On
the fourteenth day the last of these horses died. The whole was a
beautiful exhibition of stable management applied to outdoor horses
without a stable. I do not remember an instance of army authorities
consulting range horsemen as to the management of range horses on any
range. Neither has it occurred to any army that the outdoor horseman
may have useful knowledge concerning the outdoor horse. And yet the
sacrifice of 340,000 horses might have aroused misgivings as to the
Army system of management.
[Sidenote: Pastured horses]
I am writing from practical experience in stating that in the British
Army authority {233} exists for billeting horses in pasture with half
rations of forage at the discretion of the officer commanding the
unit. Pastured horses condition very rapidly, but soften a good deal
in a wet season, so that one needs as usual to supple the harness
with oil, and also to provide some sheepskin for padding of parts
which cause chafing. To meet the need of having horses instantly
available, I used two fields, the richer for night pasture, the
poorer for my horse lines and drill ground. As horses in pasture
grow wild and difficult to catch if chased about by recruits, I had a
rope tied to a tree near the corner of the field, and held outward by
two men, forming an enclosure into which the herd was drifted for
catching after the night's rest. Drifting and catching needed no
more time than the work of unshackling on the lines.
The system of pasturing by night ensures a clean bed for horses to
lie down, whereas the lines, however carefully cleared of manure, are
very soon fouled by staling, while the ground is trampled into mud or
dust. Old horse lines make most dangerous ground for camps long
after the visible dirt has been grassed over. The insects and germs
from the horse lines are liable to affect the health of troops.
{234}
[Sidenote: Management outdoors]
Except under management of most unusual skill, any assemblage of
horses is liable to stampede. I note this in a camp which has lost
two men killed and one wounded, with two horses killed and two
wounded within the week, fair evidence that stampedes are dangerous.
But the danger is greatest where horse lines and camp lines are set
close abreast, so that, if the horses stampede, the men are trampled
to death. A stampede from herd or pasture is seldom the cause of
serious accidents.
Docking or trimming tails, and hogging manes are hardly wise
outdoors, considering that the mane and tail are special devices of
nature to keep off flies. As horse lines are an excellent breeding
ground for flies, it is precisely on these lines that manes and tails
are needed.
Further, it seems unwise to remove with a brush that natural oil in
hair and skin which preserves a horse from being left stark naked to
the rain. The grease which merely clogs the brush, was needed by the
horse, and if it is taken away it should be replaced. Horses if
groomed outdoors should be groomed and oiled so that the hair may
shed rain and keep the skin dry.
It is argued that the massage action of good {235} grooming
stimulates the supply of oil to the skin and hair; but from careful
observation I think this applies rather to the long and severe
grooming of stabled thoroughbreds than to that lick and a promise
which horses in the lines actually get in bad weather. Just enough
grooming is done to remove the oil, but not enough to stimulate the
supply.
I note that the more disastrous practices are those of tradition and
custom, and are difficult to trace if one is seeking authority from
the Regulations and authorized manuals. These are framed in a most
reasonable spirit, and allow wide discretion to the Commanding
Officer. So far as my experience goes, experience and research has
not only been tolerated by the Authorities, but actively encouraged
and helped.
[Sidenote: Equipment]
EQUIPMENT. The application to Army use of a saddle made for falling
off seems a little eccentric until one begins to reason. The idea is
not without value, because an Army in time of peace is really a
school of manhood, which needs extending until every youth has been
made into a man before he gets a vote as a citizen. At a cost of
life not greatly exceeding the death-rate from closed windows
(phthisis) we have under stress of war an {236} actual national
training in manhood which has averted the fall of the British Empire.
Moreover, the British military training manufactures a gentleman who
can be trusted by the enemy with the care of his wife and daughters.
If it is useful in the making of his manhood we should not grudge him
a saddle for the prevention of riding. Morally, such a saddle is as
good for Tommy as it is for the rich folk of the hunting field.
[Sidenote: Equipment for mobility]
It is when one begins to consider mobility in the field that the
pleasure saddle seems an odd selection. Why not a skipping rope?
Troops using the English equipment have rarely averaged twenty-one
miles a day. Troops using the stock saddle have rarely gone so slow.
The old war saddle has a record of nine hundred years in every kind
of warfare; and has survived the extreme test of the stock range in
replacing the English saddle with the Mounted Police, and mounted
troops of Canada. Only the mistaken energies of sportsmen in the
British Army displaced the practical equipment designed by soldiers.
A return to the old saddle would increase the mobility of all mounted
troops.
HORSEMANSHIP. A hundred years ago the recruit came from a farm and
had been raised {237} on horseback. Even the riding masters of the
period could not quite spoil his natural horsemanship. To-day the
recruit comes from a town, looks on the horse as dangerous, and lacks
the muscles of hip and thigh which must be developed before a man
rides well.
[Sidenote: Military methods]
For civil purposes, the stock saddle, and a little guidance from
horsemen will teach a man to ride, and the riding school would merely
delay his progress. But Army purposes require a firm seat, a gentle
hand to control the horse for military formations, and a perfect
suppleness from the waist upwards for the use of weapons. These
three vital needs involve a riding school. So the rookie is
introduced to the riding school horse. Outside the school that horse
is an iron-mouthed brute, who joggles, and cannot be induced to work
apart from his comrades. Inside the school he understands the riding
master's talk, goes through the drill with or without a rider, and
tries to have some fun out of his rookie to pass away the boring
hours until he gets home to stables and a meal.
[Sidenote: The riding school]
The first job is to give the rookie confidence in the horse. To
inspire the rookie with confidence, the riding master flicks the
horse's heels with a long whip. The rookie's confidence {238} that
he will tumble off is nearly always justified, and in many instances
his nerve is broken. Then the bully calls his victim a coward, and
the rookie, made unfit for mounted work, drifts to some staff
employment or transfers to a unit of foot. The use of dummy horse
for beginners would develop the riding muscles without risk of
spoiling the man. It would be reasonable also to tell the recruit
that a little fuller's earth to absorb the moisture on his chafed
skin will avert most agonizing pain.
It is a curious streak in military character that there is a
tremendous fuss over a horse gall the size of a sixpence, but that a
man skinned from crotch to knee is blamed as a malingerer if he
applies to the doctor for help.
The saddle being worse than useless, the rookie is glad to be quit of
such an obstacle to his progress in riding. Moreover, his puttees
being worn with edges up, they catch in the horse's turned down hair,
and so give him a chance to grip bareback. Leave out the saddle
altogether and the plucky and intelligent recruits of the new armies
are quick to gain confidence as horsemen. They learn by sensible
methods taught to the Greek {239} rookies of Xenopohon's
ever-glorious Ten Thousand.
[Sidenote: Riding establishments]
There are three types of Riding Establishment: the closed building,
so hot that it stupefies the man just when he needs his brains; the
ring in a field which has at least the blessings of fresh air; and
the open field of the up-to-date instructors. A cheery and
sympathetic Riding Master will do better under a roof than a bully
can even in the open field, but the best and most rapid training I
have ever seen was given in open field by a Regular soldier who
abstained from losing his temper. In civil life I had seen a range
horseman teaching English pupils with equal success, and the methods
of the two masters were identical. Men who had never mounted before
were taught within a week such circus tricks as jumping, wrestling
bareback, tug-of-war mounted, and making horses climb over ugly
ground. It was a punishment to be excluded from the lessons. From
the civilian school pupils passed out after six months' training and
earned a living as stock riders. From the military school the men
were transferred to a station with the old ring menage and never
recovered the resulting leeway. Given equally good instructors, I
should say that one month's {240} training in open field is equal in
value to four months in the outdoor menage or five months in an
indoor riding school.
[Sidenote: The outdoor training]
In training men my first measure was to select sympathetic
instructors, and relieve for other duties any N.C.O. who showed the
slightest infirmity of temper. Released from all bullying, nagging
or fear of punishment, my rookies were sportsmen who would greet me
with a cheery grin. The second measure was to cut out the element of
monotony in routine, so that the riding field became a place of
surprises, of varied sports and competitions where each man tried to
excel. From the first I would take the whole class away from the
schooling for an occasional joy-ride along the grassy roadsides,
slowly increasing the pace from walk to joggle, and finally to long
trot on the home stretch. When we came to be tested against other
units we had no reason to regret our unorthodox methods of training.
My second month's riding school would involve a very serious
schooling for officers and Non. Coms, in teaching them how to handle
a unit training for field mobility. It would be limited to three
exercises all of which I have tested with success in England during
the past decade.
{241}
FIRST EXERCISE. Taking a feed and haversack rations to make a day's
march and practise the noon halt.
SECOND EXERCISE. Taking vehicles or pack animals according to size
of unit, to make a two days' march with a night bivouac. Instruction
is needed in the use of natural wind breaks and slopes of ground,
also to adapt the sweat pad, blanket, overcoat and saddle, into a dry
camp regardless of the weather.
THIRD EXERCISE. After extensive practice at the home camp, in
cooking without any utensils except the pots and cups for the tea or
coffee, to make a night bivouac without any kitchen transport.
So far one could dispense with the camp equipment, and almost the
whole kitchen; but concurrently with this training to drop needless
baggage, there would be first exercises for scouting and road
reports, vedettes, flankers and despatch riders.
[Sidenote: Factors of mobility]
MOBILITY. The factors for mobility may now be added up: The breeding
of horses on pasture natural to the species; sheds to secure dry
earth standings and a wind break; outdoor management; a
weight-distributing saddle; an actual training of men and horses to
rapid and sustained marching with reduced transport. {242} With
these few measures the mobility of mounted troops could be doubled.
[Sidenote: The wings of an army]
To quadruple the mobility of mounted forces one has merely to add the
stock-range system of a pony herd supplying two mounts per man. In
an enemy's country each horseman would ride, and lead his spare
mount, changing over at halts. A march would be continuous with
short halts, up to the limits of endurance for the men and horses
available, and this after proper training would not be far short of
one hundred miles a day. From the moment when a war of positions
culminates in advance or in retreat, flying brigades or even
divisions could play havoc with enemy's plans by threatening his
lines of communication. The raid, as practised by the Confederate,
General Morgan, in the American Civil War, is no longer healthy
because there are aircraft about. Detached units cannot, as in past
times, be left in the air to forage for themselves; and yet mobility
of the screen and wings may prove as useful an aid to a marching army
as claws are to a crab.
{243}
CONCLUSION.
This book has been written in spare hours off duty while the air
throbbed all round me. The crackling rifle fire at the butts, the
uproar of the batteries at practice and frequent bursts of bombs, the
buzzing aeroplanes as they pass overhead, rumble of transport trains,
and tramp of marching troops, bands on a Sunday, and choirs of
trumpets sounding the evening calls are echoes, all of them, from the
great thunders of the Armageddon.
The sounds will die away into the distance to a last muttering beyond
the skyline. Then those who are left of us will put away our weapons
and our saddles, and go back to civil life. But we shall all be
changed.
No man returning from a journey, has ever come back with the same
self into his former life. From this travail we shall come changed
into a different world. A new and realized manhood will meet a tried
and bettered womanhood. We shall not any more be able to live
content in the old world of selfishness and {244} slackness. We
shall demand for men a training of their manhood, for women a
training of their womanhood.
[Sidenote: The makings of manhood]
We shall value manliness more than scholarship, ease or wealth, or
even the freedom we fought so hard to save. Food has no flavour
until we have been hungry, rest has no value unless we have been
weary, life has no zest save that from fierce endeavour, it is the
work we do which builds our strength. The manhood of our fathers
came by use of arms, and of horses, by going down to the sea in
ships, by hard, rough living, taking risks and enduring pain, by
generous giving and honest loving.
The manhood of our sons will not be made by indoor life, by ease, by
softness, by selfishness or vice. The body as well as the mind and
the spirit must have daily training, renewal and growth, if we would
avert disease, corruption and decay. The future has nothing to add
to the past save in the hazards of the air, the fierce delight of
handling aircraft, and the hardening of all our fibres in the
conquest of the skies. It will be long, however, before the
aeroplane can alight in forests, on mountains, rough ground or stormy
water, or venture very far from the bases of supply. Till then our
industry and our wars will still need horses, and {245} even
afterwards we shall hardly be able to spare them from our pleasures.
In the past, the horses carried our ancestors out of savagery through
barbarism into civilization. They saved us from the barren labour of
Chinese, Egyptian and Indian cultivators, and gave us the large
opportunities of our country life. Horses and shipping added all the
continents to our estate, the conquest of the world to our arms, the
glamour of adventure to our history. If only we can learn to
understand horses with a quicker sympathy, a bolder reasoning, the
training which our fathers had as horsemen, will be bettered in the
training of our sons.
{246}
INDEX.
Acacia, 57.
Action [of Light, theory of, Chap. II. and p. 160.
Afghans, 223.
Africa, 29, 31, 56, 177, 230.
Agriculture, horses in, 145.
Alaska, 21.
Alberta, 230.
Alcohol, 197.
Alexander the Great, 138, 201.
Alkali, 59.
America:
Central, 16;
North, Chps. I. and II., horsemen of, 148;
South, 20.
Ancestors of horse, 2.
Apples, 200.
Argentine, 152, 177, 223; Remounts, 232.
Arabia, 28, 70, 139, 209.
Armenia, 137-8.
Armies, 224.
Armour, 145.
Arms, 174.
Ass, 9, 29, 30, 35, 130, 208.
Assyria, 14, 136, 138.
Atlantic, 2; Continent, 5.
Australia, 152, 155, 169, 177, 203, 230.
Babylonia, 135.
Backfalls, 79.
Baffin's Bay, 19.
Balance in riding, 221.
Baltic, 19, 42, 43, 111.
Barb, 28, 131, 209.
Bathing, 6.
Bay, 14, 31, 32, 46, 117-8, 129 _et seq._
Bearded horses, 23, 36.
Bells, 197.
Bent leg riding, 143, 207.
Bering Land, 21, 24.
Bering Sea, 16, 21, 24.
Biblical record, 129.
Billets for horses, 233.
Birch, Major, "Modern Riding," 226
Biting, 74.
Bitt, 109, 119, 156.
Bivouac, 241.
Blackfeet, 107, 116.
Blanket, 153, 198.
Black horses, 47.
Blisters, 153, 198.
Bolas, 176.
Bolting. 75.
Bone, 39.
Boers, 29, 179, 223.
Boots, 169.
Branding, 70.
Brazil, 5, 48.
Breaking back, 58.
Breeches, 167.
Breeding horses, 137, 228.
Bridges, 62.
Bridle, 115, 120.
British Columbia, 24, 230.
British Isles, 19, 43, 107, 139, 211.
Broncho, 148, 180.
Brown horses, 31, 47.
Buckskin horses, _see_ Dun.
Bucking, 28, 61, 78, 150.
Build of horses, 10.
Bulk of horses, 10.
Bushes as reserve of food, 63.
Buying, 182.
Cactus, 57.
Camels, 22, 208.
Camps, 196.
Canaan, 135-6.
Canter, 186.
Capture, 101 _et seq._
Carbon in food, 197.
Carrots, 200.
Carson, Kit, 204.
Cart, 105.
Cart horse, 40.
Cavalry:
Assyrian, 138;
British, 211; charges, 79, 178;
European, 178;
Greek, 117-8-9;
Hebrew, 131;
Lydian, 138;
Mexican, 178;
Moslem, 141;
Regular, 223;
Roman, 120.
Celtic pony (Ewart), 36, 39, 43, 44.
Centaur, 117.
Chapareras, 173.
Character, 71, 81.
Chargers:
of Angels, 83;
Black Bess, 202;
Bucephalus (Alexander's), 201;
of Charles XII., 202;
Julius Cæsar's, 8;
Odin's, 36;
Pegasus, 115-6;
Peschkov's, 202.
Chariots, 106, 110, 117, 121, 133, 139.
Chestnut horses, 31, 46.
China, 127-8.
Choking, 91.
Cincha, _see_ girth.
Circus, 101.
Civil War:
English, 209;
American; 242.
Clay, influence of, 39.
Cleveland Bay, 145.
Cliffs, 60-1-2.
Climate, Chaps. I., II.
Climbing, 60-1-2.
Clipping, 203.
Clothing, 231-2.
Cloudland, 33, 34, 51, 52, 111.
Clydesdales, 145.
Coat, thickness of, 11; protection, 26.
Cold, 196.
Colic, 91, 199, 200.
Colorado, 61.
Colosseum, 101.
Colour of horses, 4, 14 _et seq._, 46 to 53.
Colts, 70.
Columbia Basin, 23.
Communication among horses, 89 _et seq._
Compass, 190.
Constantinople, 120.
Cooling a horse, 196-7.
Copper ointments, 198.
Corduroy roads, 62.
Cornering, 77.
Corrall, 101.
Cossack, 178, 208.
Cowboys, 148, 205.
Cracked heels, 199.
Cree Indians, 142.
Croll theory, 16.
Cromwell, Oliver, 209.
Crowding, 77.
Curb bitt, 160.
Cyrene, 117, 223.
Damaraland, 223.
Danube, 115.
Dapples, 50, 53.
Dappled horses, 111 to 141.
Darwin, 25.
Dashboard, 106.
Defence, methods of, 28, 66, 68, 71.
Denmark, 45.
Dervishes, 208.
Deserts, 7, 8, 14, 57, 133.
Destriérs, 145.
Diamond hitch, 151.
Diluvial horse, 40.
Directions, trail, 191.
Disease, 216.
Docking tails, 2, 70.
Double back, the, 118.
Dragging the forefoot, 91.
Dragons, age of, 2.
Draught horses, 41, 121.
Dreams of horses, 88.
Dress of horsemen, 161.
Drinking, habits in, 65.
Driving, 106, 180.
Dun horse, 14, 31-2, 51, 115-6, 121, 124 _et seq._
Dung, special places for, 68; indications of health, 91.
Dust bath, 201.
Ears, movements of, 89, 90, 91, 92.
Eating horse flesh, 97, 99.
Egypt, 131 to 137.
Elizabeth, Queen, 210.
English methods, 151.
Equatorial regions, 18, 19.
Equites, 122.
Equipment, 152.
Erythrea, 223.
Europe, Chap. II.
Ewart, Prof. J. Cosser, F.R.S., vii.-x., 40.
Exhaustion, 197.
Eyesight, 156.
Family life of horses, 66-7.
Feeding, 199, 200; when groomed, 73; by breeders, 137, 215.
Fighting methods of, 68, 90.
Fires, Camp, 200.
Foals, 69.
Foot of horse, 4, 8, 87.
Forage, 11, 215.
Forelock, 14.
Forest horses, 7, 40, 41.
Forest, Horses in, 194, 197.
Formations in defence, 28, 68.
Fox hunting, 210 _et seq._, 225.
France, 36, 41, 122, 178, 223.
Friends, Making, 183.
Frontiersmen's Pocket Book, 177.
Frontiersmen, Legion of, _see_ Legion.
Gait, 186.
Gall cures, 198.
Galls, 153, 198, 233.
Gaul, 122.
Geldings, 68.
Genesis, 129 _et seq._
Germany, 122, 211, 223, 225.
Germs, 15, 216.
Gestures, 9, 194.
Ghosts seen by horses, 85.
Girth, 80, 154, 198.
Gothic horsemen, 121.
Grain, Feeding, 137, 197.
Gramma grass, 56.
Granite, Influence of, 38.
Grasses, 27, 55-6.
Grazing, 7, 59.
Greasewood, 57.
Greeks, 115, _et seq._, 138, 143.
Greenland, 16, 17, 19.
Grey horses, 47, 140.
Grimaldi grottoes, 40.
Groaning, 90.
Grooming, 73, 74, 231, 234.
Grooms, 78.
Guidance in travel, 189.
Gulf Stream, 16, 19.
Habits, 72.
Halts, 195.
Hands, Training of, 159.
Harem, The, 66.
Harty, Constable, 180.
Hats, 165.
Haul Ecole, 178.
Headstall, 159.
Hearing, 193.
Heat, 198.
Hedges, 210.
Heels, 198, 201.
Hellenes, 115.
Hills, 187.
Herd, 68, 107.
Hitch, 151.
Hittites, 133, 136.
Hobbles, 197.
Hogging mares, 15, 231.
Holland, 45.
Hoofs, 8, 28.
Horse-fights, 90.
Horse-flesh, 97.
Horse sickness, 48.
Humour in horses, 85 _et seq._
Hungary, 177.
Hunting, fox, 210, 225.
Hyksos, 134.
Hyracotherium, 5.
Ice age, 15-6-7, 33.
Ice, Horses on, 63, 72.
Icelandic horse fights, 90.
Immortality of horses, 83.
India, 47, 139, 208.
Indians, Red, 68, 107-8-9-10, 135, 142.
Instincts, 81, 83.
Intelligence, 63, 69, 87.
Ireland, 23, 39, 70, 178.
Israel, 129 _et seq._
Italy, 223.
Japan current, 21.
Japanese, 217, 223.
Jaral, 101.
Jockeys, 207.
Joggling, 78.
Joseph, Chief, 110.
Jumping, 70, 209, 221, 226.
Kangaroo-jumping, 75.
Katywar, 48.
Keddah, 101.
Kentucky, 70.
Kiang (_see_ ass), 36.
Kicking, 68, 73, 74.
King, Dick. 202.
Knights, 122.
Kraal, 101.
Kruger, a horse comedian, 85.
Labrador, 20.
Lasso, 176.
Legion of Frontiersmen, 177, 221.
Libya (Cyrene, 117), 132, 135
Light, Action of, Chap. II.; in stables, 218.
Limestone, Influence of, 39, 215.
Lincolnshire, 45.
Liniment, 198.
Llanos, 177.
Longtails, 3.
Lonsdale, Earl of, 212.
Low's Domesticated Animals, 45.
Macedonia, 138.
Malaya, 5.
Mammoth, 24.
Management, 230.
Mares, 1, 3, 14, 66, 116, 234.
Manetho, 134.
Markings, 10.
Massage, 231, 234.
Meadows, 55, 58, 215.
Memory, 65, 71.
Mesopotamia, 135.
Mexico, 5, 55, 147, 153, 177, 178, 179, 223.
Microbes, 12, 15, 216.
Migration, 49.
Milk of Mares, 102.
Missouri, 21.
Mobility, 110, 227 _et seq._; Summary, 241.
Modern Riding, by Major Birch, 226.
Moisture, 11.
Mongolia, 31, 127, 177, 208.
Moqui Indians,
Morgan, Gen., 242.
Morocco, 208.
Moslem, 141, 208.
Moss holes, 63.
Mounted Police, _see_ Police.
Music, Enjoyment of, 70, 88.
Muzzle, 6, 58.
Navajo Indians, 142.
Neck, 58.
Neckcloth, 172.
Nez Percé Indians, 110.
Normans, 145.
Norsemen, 111, 115, 121.
North Sea, 42, 44.
Norway, 16, 45.
Numbers, Sense of, 70.
Oatmeal, 198.
Oiling harness, 233; horses, 116, 234.
Olympic games, 114, 117.
Oriental riding, 208.
Outdoor management, 231.
Outlaw horses, 71, 87.
Paces, 186.
Pachynolophus, ix.
Pacific Ocean, 21, 22, 24.
Pack horses, 67, 122, 127, 146, 152, 182, 196.
Pack trails, 122, 124, 127.
Pad saddle, 208.
Pain, 90, 91.
Panic, 75.
Parker, Sergt., Adventure of, 82.
Parthians, 208.
Pasture, 6, 33, 37, 74, 196, 215.
Patagonia, 177.
Pawing, 66, 72.
Pegasus, 115, 116.
Percherons, 145.
Persians, 110.
Personality in horses, 84 _et seq._
Peruvians, 176.
Photographic colour, 50.
Pick, Hoof, 201.
Piebald horses, 47.
Pig, Colour of, 4.
Pig-jumping, 75.
Pit ponies, 215.
Pleasure horses, Chaps. VII., VIII.
Pointing ears, 87; forefeet, 91.
Police, Royal N.-W. Mounted 82, 86, 180, 181, 203, 230.
Polo, 151.
Polo, Marco, 128.
Portugal, 178, 208, 222.
Posting, 128.
Pound for catching stock, 101.
Practical jokes by horses, 85, 86, 87.
Prairie, 7.
Psychology, 84 _et seq._
Prejevalski horse, 9, 31, 36, 41, 51.
Propping, 77.
Protective colour, 14, 30.
Punishment of horses, 76, 185.
Quagga, 9, 29, 31.
Quartering slopes, 62.
Queensland, 152.
Quicksands, 62.
Race-memories, 71
Racing, 120, 225; seat, 143.
Raids, 242.
Range, The Stock range, 54 _et seq._, 216, 242.
Rearing, 75.
Red Indian, _see_ Indian.
Recado saddle, 155.
Records, 201.
Rein, 62, 76, 195.
Re-muda, 68.
Reptile, 2, 3.
Resting, 59, 64, 189.
Riding, 118, 143 _et seq._, 220, 226.
Riding school, _see_ School.
Rhine, 42.
Ridgeway, Prof., x., 51.
Riviera horse, 40.
Roan horses, 47.
Roads, 52, 121.
Rocky Mountains, 16, 54, 108, 189, 204.
Romans, 119, 144.
Rope, Use of the, 62, 176.
Rough-riding, 179, 180; driving, 180.
Royal Artillery, 178, 226.
Russia, 31, 35, 121, 137, 140, 208, 223.
Saddle:
American, 153, 213;
Argentine, 155;
Australian, 155;
English, 146 _et seq._, 211 _et seq._, 235;
McClellan, 156.
Saddling, 184.
Saddle tree, 199.
Saddle, weight distributing, 219.
Sagebrush, 57.
S. Elias, Alps of, 16, 24.
Sagartians, 176.
Salt, 59, 198, 200.
Sarmatians, 176.
Savaging, 80.
Savannahs, 7.
Scent, 4, 93, 192.
Scandinavia, 48, 121.
Schleswig, 45.
School, Riding, 212, 237 to 240.
Scotland, 45.
Scouring, 200.
Scouting, 190.
Scraping, 79.
Screaming, 90.
Screens for stable walls, 217.
Scythians, 176.
Self defence, 66.
Sense of touch, 6.
Shadows, Fear of, 194.
Shaps, 173.
Shire horses, 145.
Shirts, 166.
Shoulder, Injury to, 91.
Shying, 89.
Signals made by horses, 89.
Sight, 156, 193.
Singeing, 231.
Singing, Uses of, 75.
Siwalik horse, 41.
Size of horses, 37.
Skewbalds, 23, 47.
Slack rein, 62.
Sleep, 27, 64, 189.
Sleighs, 121.
Smudge, 197.
Snaffle, 156.
Snake-killing, 72.
Soap, Soft, 199.
Solomon's Cavalry, 117; Chariotry, 138.
Solutré horse, 41.
Sores, 153, 188, 198.
Soudan, 208.
South Africa, 29, 31, 56, 177, 230-1.
Speed, 28.
Spine, 14.
Spirit of the horse, 81.
Sport, Sense of, 70, 88.
Spurs, 172.
Squealing, 91.
Stables, 201, 214 _et seq._
Stadium, 101.
Stallions, 28, 66, 67, 68, 75.
Stampedes, 75, 234.
Stamping, 72, 91.
Standing, Manner of, 91.
Standings for horses, 217-218
Steppes, 7, 14, 41.
Stockrange, _see_ Range.
Stock whip, 177.
Stomach, 36.
Strabo, 139.
Strength, 11.
Straight leg riding, 143, 207.
Stirrup, 154.
Stony Indians, 142.
Striking a horse, 26, 27, 29.
Stumbling, 158.
Suffolk Punch, 145.
Sugar, 198, 200.
Sunfishing, 78.
Sunlight, Coloration by, 11.
Suppling a horse, 185.
Surcingle, 109.
Swamps, 63.
Sweating, 91.
Sweat-pad, 152.
Sweden, 140.
Swimming, 6, 63.
Syria, 140.
Tail, 6, 28.
Tapir, 5, 22.
Tarpan, 9, 31, 36, 41.
Tartars, 115, 176.
Tears, 90, 116.
Teeth, 59.
Temper, 73.
Thames, 42.
Thirst, Endurance of, 64.
Thoroughbred, x., 214.
Thought transference, 92.
Throwing a horse, 75.
Touch, Sense of, 6.
Tracking, 191.
Training, 70.
Travel, 181 _et seq._
Travois, 104, 105.
Treading, 77, 79.
Tropical light, x.
Trotting, 66, 186.
Trousers, 168.
Tunic, 167.
Turpin, Dick, 202.
Tying a horse, 195.
Turfed pasture, 33.
Tussock grass, 26.
Unsaddling, 201.
Unsoundness of horses, 214 _et seq._
Utah, 61.
Valkyrs, 115.
Vaquero, 149.
Vice, 71, 81.
Waggon, 105, 121.
Water, 58; horses in, 62.
Watering, 64, 65, 72, 98, 195.
Wallets, 160.
War, viii., 70.
Warming a horse, 197.
Weapons, 176, 184.
Welsh pit pony 118.
Wesley, Richard, 158.
Whicker, 90.
Whinney, 90.
Whip, 76, 177.
Whiskey, 197.
Wheels, 105.
White horses, 35.
Wind, Holding the, 80, 184.
Winds, 18 _et seq._, 25, 26, 196.
Winged horses, 115.
Wolves, 58, 68.
Women, 132, 209.
Woodruff, Surgeon-Gen., x.
Working horses, Chap. VII.
Yakima Indians, 142.
Yukon, 24, 45.
Zebra, 9, 29, 31.
Zenophon, 118, 120, 144, 169.
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