RIDING
No country in the world is so badly supplied with horses as China,
both as regards quantity and quality.
The reasons for this are largely owing to the peculiar and wretched
condition of internal communications, and to the fact that horses are
seldom employed in cultivation of the soil, which is mostly performed
by manual labour, supplemented by water buffaloes in the central and
southern provinces and by oxen in the north.
Wherever rivers and lakes exist there is found a dense boating
population, whose occupation is the conduct of every kind of traffic.
On the large fluvial highways stately junks laden deep with cargo pass
backwards and forwards in unending procession. In shallower waters the
vessels are smaller but more numerous, and this adaptation to
circumstances goes on until the smallest streams and canals, which
invariably cover the valleys of China's mighty rivers as with a net,
are blocked with tiny craft, each bearing its load of merchandise or
its quota of passengers.
In such districts, where everything is carried by water and where
roads are few, there is little or no work for the horse, which, beyond
a few wretched specimens attached to the various yamens and military
camps, is seldom seen.
Where waterways do not exist, and traffic must necessarily be carried
overland, the highways are either narrow paths paved with large blocks
of stone and suitable only for wheelbarrows and pack-animals, or
tracks picked out at random over a width of perhaps a hundred yards,
along which lumbering, ill-constructed and springless carts plough
their ways, and strings of pack-animals wend slowly to and fro. The
numberless creaking wheel-barrows, bearing heavy loads, are propelled
by coolies, who, the yoke across the shoulders, stagger along between
the shafts, helped occasionally by a small sail set to catch a
favouring wind, or by another coolie harnessed to the vehicle by
ropes. The pack-animals mostly consist of camels (especially in the
north), mules and donkeys, ponies being used in more limited numbers.
As a rule, the carts are supplied with mixed teams of very poor class
animals, mules largely predominating, although ponies are also
numerous.
Europeans, accustomed to see carriages, dog-carts and all kinds of
horse-drawn conveyances circulating freely on macadamised roads, find
it difficult to realise that, in the oldest civilised empire in
existence, there are, outside the treaty-ports, not only no
macadamised roads, but not even roads that could possibly be compared
with our most out-of-the-way and most ill-kept country lanes, and that
consequently there are neither carriages nor dogcarts, but only
springless tumbrils, which, covered with a wain, discharge the
functions of the celestial cab, and plough through deep mud with their
massive wheels, or jolt over stone causeways to the intense discomfort
of luckless occupants.
[Illustration: THE CAB OF NORTHERN CHINA.
_To face page 75._]
There being then practically neither roads nor carriages, the demand
for draught horses is very small, while for riding purposes Chinamen
prefer either the taller and more dignified mule or the ambling pony.
This latter has a rolling, pacing gait which enables the horseman to
sit quietly in his high wooden saddle without any necessity of rising
in the stirrups. He possesses great speed and endurance, and wealthy
Chinese will give as much as four or five hundred taels for a good
one. With his rider leaning well back and pulling hard at the reins
the animal tears along at fifteen or sixteen miles an hour, but when
the reins are loosened he immediately slackens and pulls up. They are
a common sight in the neighbourhood of Peking, where ambling contests
frequently take place outside the city wall. In these contests each
pony in turn is ridden at full speed past the judges, who proclaim the
winner on his general merits and not with exclusive reference to pace.
For agricultural work the horse is not employed. In wheeling barrows
coolies perform the work of beasts of burthen. As pack-animals camels,
mules and donkeys have the preference, so that although the "noble
animal" is to be met with almost everywhere, he is not considered
indispensable as in Western lands. He is unhonoured, ill cared for and
very cheap.
There may be several breeds in China, although personally I have seen
but four, of which a small, well-shaped pony from Turkestan; a large,
stringy horse from Ili; and a weedy, cowhocked pony from Szechuan
deserve here no more than passing notice, for they are seldom seen in
the Eastern provinces, where alone the Mongolian, or, as it is
commonly called, the "China pony," is found in considerable numbers.
This China pony, with which Europeans in the Far East are so well
acquainted, is a native of the Mongolian plains. He stands on an
average about thirteen hands, and is a coarse, thick-set, cobby
animal, with a large, ugly head carried low on a wedge-shaped neck,
so that when mounted you have practically nothing in front of the
saddle. He much resembles, and is evidently closely allied to, the
Russian pony, which is now so commonly met with in this country.
I have heard it stated that, at the conclusion of the Second Chinese
War, to avoid the expense of transport back to India, the Arab horses
of our cavalry were sold at Tientsin, and being mostly purchased by
native dealers, were sent to Mongolia and crossed with the native
breed. If this be true it accounts for the traces of Arab blood which
may occasionally be observed in a smaller head, finer points, wavy
tail and gentler manners.
Mongol princes have long had, by imperial decree, the sole right of
horse breeding in the north, every year paying tribute to the Emperor
of so many head; and as this breed is much superior to the others I
have mentioned, the monopoly practically extends to the whole Empire,
and is most jealously guarded.
Geldings only are allowed to leave the breeders' hands, and that not
before the advanced age of seven or eight, which partly accounts for
the shortness of the time during which China ponies are in their
prime, and for the fact that after two or three years' work they
commence to age and deteriorate.
Mares it is impossible to purchase on any terms, the Mongols
absolutely refusing to part with them, and I have only seen two
during the whole of the twelve years I have spent in China--one at
Peking, the property of a Russian prince, and one with its foal,
belonging to a native official at Kiukiang.
In the late autumn of every year the tribute ponies are brought down
to Peking. I have seen them in large droves coming across country at
full gallop, enveloped in clouds of dust, with mounted Mongol and
Chinese drovers, carrying long bamboo poles, riding on the outskirts
of each mob and directing its course. Villagers, on seeing the clouds
of dust and hearing the thunder of hoofs, hurry out to try and divert
the equine torrent from their crops, but in vain. The whirlwind rushes
by, leaving a broad, well-beaten track, whereon few signs of banks,
gardens or vegetation can be discerned. It is the Emperor's tribute
and there is no redress.
After tributary obligations have been fulfilled in kind or in value,
large numbers of these ponies are thrown on the market, and on an
average can be secured for twenty or thirty dollars each--that is, for
two or three pounds.
The best market is provided by Europeans, and dealers forward the
finest-looking animals to Tientsin, Shanghai, Hongkong, Hankow and
other places where racing is carried on, to meet this demand.
When such mobs of raw ponies reach a treaty-port they are known as
"griffins," which term applies to all that have not previously run at
any race-meeting; and with their tails sweeping the ground, their
hogged manes and their long coats clotted with mud, they present a
very dismal appearance, and one not at all in keeping with the
accepted idea of race-horses.
These griffins mostly pass through the hands of racing men, who, with
a view to securing a good animal, either arrange with the dealers for
private gallops, when the various performances are carefully timed by
stop-watch, or buy their fancies at public auction without speed tests
having previously been made.
Owing to expenses of transport, be it by steamer or by road, the
further south the greater the average value of griffins, and as only
picked animals are supplied to the foreign market, the price is
everywhere far higher than at Peking, and may be said to range from
fifty to five hundred dollars. Those ponies which do not prove to have
sufficient speed to warrant their being trained as racers are resold
as hacks, or filter away at lower prices to the Chinese.
I may here say that although at several of the treaty-ports there are
a few good roads made by the European residents, and along which
imported carriages are occasionally seen to pass, it is only at
Shanghai that vehicular traffic has attained to any considerable
degree of importance. Here the foreign settlements are traversed in
all directions by excellent highways, which extend through the suburbs
for several miles into the adjoining country, and which the Chinese
avail themselves of to a large extent, driving out in thousands every
afternoon to tea-houses and pleasure-gardens.
Besides most well-known varieties of conveyance the celestial mind has
evolved one or two remarkable models of its own, notably, a kind of
victoria, the body of which takes the form of two large inverted
sea-shells gaudily painted with flowers and butterflies, and running
on light iron wheels with bright spokes and rubber tyres. A liveried
coach-man on the box, a footman with a smart rug over the arm standing
on an iron step behind and balancing himself by grasping two straps
attached to the back corners of the carriage, a shabbily-harnessed
China pony in the shafts, and the equipage is complete.
The occupants of this triumphal car are either three or four
prosperous-looking Chinamen, clothed in many-coloured silks, or a
posse of gaily-dressed celestial beauties, who, with faces painted
white, lips dyed vermilion, hair caked with oil, garlanded with
flowers, laden with jewels, displaying their tiny satin shoes and
toying with fans in their small and beautiful hands, furnish a
_tout-ensemble_ sufficiently original if not too painfully grotesque.
At Shanghai, certainly, many thousands of ponies are employed, but it
is owing entirely to the influence and example of Europeans.
The majority of men taking up appointments in China are barely out of,
if not still in, their teens, and whether they come straight from
school, from business in the city or from the universities, it is
seldom they have had any large experience of horses. In very many
cases they do not even know how to mount, but finding ponies so cheap,
or, better still, getting a discarded racer as a cumshaw, they take to
riding as naturally as if to the manner born, so that there are but
few residents of either sex who cannot ride, and China ponies
consequently hold a place in the estimation of foreigners which is
altogether denied them by the natives.
From hacking to racing is but a step. The man who has learnt to ride
(or thinks he has), being already a member of the race club, takes his
steed for a quiet canter round the course. The old racer no sooner
finds himself on the familiar track than he is off with the speed of
flames, and our young friend, being powerless to check him, with his
feet out of the stirrups and hanging on to the back of the saddle for
dear life, is carried a mile or so before a sudden swerve at the exit
rail deposits him on the turf.
No bones are broken but the damage is done. Unless the dismounted
cavalier be devoid of all enthusiasm the spirit of racing has
assuredly entered his veins!
In future he will haunt the course with his own luckless hack, he will
attend the training regularly each morning in hopes of getting a mount
on any rank outsider, and will think of little else all day than
riding and ponies.
To some men riding comes naturally, like cricket, while others can
never acquire a good seat.
A light-weight who is fortunate enough to possess the necessary knack
will soon be in request as jockey at the forthcoming meeting, when, if
he should happen to secure a win, the confidence it immediately gives
him does more than any other thing to transform him into a really good
horseman.
It costs no more to feed a good pony than it does a bad one, so he now
decides to dispose of his hack for a trifling sum, and in its stead to
purchase a griffin, which may be a potential winner of the champions.
He orders his mafoo to inspect the new season's griffins as they
arrive, and arrange with the dealer to bring three or four of the best
for his approval. This the mafoo does with great pleasure, as, apart
from the keen interest he takes in racing--all Chinese being
inveterate gamblers--it is an understood thing that he will receive a
good cumshaw from his master for each race that his stable wins.
In due course the unbroken, shoeless, mud-covered animals arrive, and
the dealer, perched on a high wooden saddle, trots them up and down to
show off their paces.
In England the would-be purchaser of a horse carefully feels each leg
to make sure that there be neither splint nor curb, lifts up and
examines the hoofs, grasps the lower lip with one hand and draws out
the tongue with the other to study the teeth, and peers closely into
the animal's face to see that his eyes are unblemished.
On approaching a griffin one becomes conscious of being closely
watched by a vicious eye, and oftentimes the brute, snorting with
anger and alarm at the unaccustomed sight and smell of a European,
attempts to rush at one, while the idea of feeling his legs, drawing
out his tongue, examining his hoofs or peering into his eyes quickly
evaporates. One would rather fondle a Bengal tiger!
An adjournment is next made to the race-course, where the ponies are
powed by the dealer for half-a-mile, when the action of each can be
observed and the times taken by stop-watch.
In this manner a rough idea can be formed as to which of the animals
are likely to possess the necessary turn of speed, and that is as
much information as can now be obtained, for as to soundness, age and
stamina the dealer's assurances on these points must be accepted as
the only evidence procurable.
In the end one, and very probably two, are purchased at from sixty to
seventy dollars each, and the erstwhile embryo jock has blossomed into
the dignity of ownership.
The first thing to do with a griffin is to get him shod, which is not
quite so simple a matter as one might imagine, for he has hitherto
never passed through the farrier's hands and will be certain to
fiercely object. No attempt is made to perform the operation by
gentleness, and he is forthwith led under a kind of oblong, wooden
arch about six feet high, constructed of four firmly-planted posts,
connected on top by cross beams.
Ropes passed under his belly and over the cross beams keep him from
throwing himself down, while each leg is securely lashed to one of the
posts, and thus being rendered absolutely powerless, the work is
quickly put through.
There is generally a struggle in mounting each new arrival, but with a
couple of mafoos hanging on to his ears, and sometimes by enveloping
his head in a horse-cloth, it is eventually managed.
The first timidity soon wears off, and you find that after a short
distance there is no more trouble, the animal being probably in poor
condition and lacking the nervousness of finer breeds.
Several days of scraping and grooming having removed the dust and dirt
with which his shaggy coat was filled, he is clipped and his tail
shortened. The transformation is almost startling. You now have quite
a smart-looking mount as China ponies go, and while riding him daily
to improve his condition you will soon discover any marked
characteristics.
He rarely gets over his dislike for Europeans although perfectly
docile with Chinese, and it is seldom that he will allow even his own
master to enter the stall. A black griffin which I bought at Peking
seemed to me so quiet that on an expedition of some days into the
country I fed, groomed and saddled him myself, until quite convinced
that we had become friends, and it was not till after my return that,
in passing through the stables, he rushed at me with open mouth, only
the strength of a raw-hide headstall saving me from being savaged.
What applies to one applies to all. Their tempers are untrustworthy.
Many have the disagreeable trick of "cow-kicking," which usually
occurs on mounting, when they kick forward with the near hind leg and
may inflict a nasty blow.
Invariably hard-mouthed, occasionally buck-jumpers, altogether
without manners, and in trotting mostly slow and jerky, they are but a
poor apology for the gentle and graceful horse as found in Western
countries. On the other hand, they make capital race-ponies, for they
are fast gallopers, and for their size can carry astounding weights.
They are also very good for cross-country work, as, in addition to
being fair jumpers, their great strength enables them to plough
through country which would tax the powers of an English hunter, but
the greatest consideration of all is their cheapness, for it places
them within the reach of sporting men with small incomes.
A certain number of Australian horses are now imported into Hongkong
and Shanghai, but owing to the stringencies of the Chinese climate it
is very doubtful whether so great additional outlay as the long sea
voyage involves is compensated for by the walers' evident
superiorities.
Assuming that, having had a griffin for some time, he is in good
condition, a period of six or seven weeks is sufficient in which to
prepare him for the races.
For training purposes, oats and hay imported from California are
preferable, but adhering to native produce, a diet of boiled barley,
chopped straw and bran will do nearly as well.
Most of the important exercise is gone through at early morning
between six and half-past seven, when the ponies are trotted and
galloped on the course, and when all sporting members of the
community, stop-watch in hand, assemble at the rails, or follow
proceedings from the grand-stand while breakfasting on hot rolls and
coffee. On return to stables, thorough dressing, with much rubbing of
the legs, takes place, while an hour's brisk walking from eleven
o'clock to twelve, and again in the afternoon, completes the day's
work.
[Illustration: THE OLD GRAND-STAND, HANKOW RACES, 1888.
_To face page 87._]
Each animal requires individual treatment, and it is the owner who
best knows how to apply it that will bring his ponies to the post in
the fittest condition.
Carrying from ten to eleven stone according to measurement, good time
for half a mile would be fifty-nine seconds, for a mile, two minutes
eight seconds, and for a mile and a half, three minutes fifteen
seconds.
In dry weather it is an advantage for ponies to race without shoes,
but if the course be wet or muddy they are absolutely necessary to
prevent slipping.
The jockeys are all amateur and mostly personal friends, as also are
the clerk of the course, starters, judges and stewards, so that
instead of a race-meeting being a gathering of complete strangers,
bookmakers and professionals, it partakes more of the social nature of
a huge picnic.
During the winter months a great feature of sport in Shanghai is
paperchasing on horseback.
The meets are usually held on Saturday afternoons, when business
offices are closed, and a field of seventy or eighty is no uncommon
sight.
Two members of the club lay the scent, but while free to choose any
line of country, they must not lead the trail over jumps or obstacles
which their own ponies have failed to negotiate.
At the hour advertised the Master gives a signal and the hunt is away.
Through wades and creeks, over water-jumps and graves, across gardens
and paddy fields, the gay throng sweeps on at high speed, until a
welcome check brings relief to man and beast and allows the stragglers
to close up. After a short delay the trail is again hit off and the
field streams away, but in ever-decreasing numbers, until a mere
handful sight the flags which mark the finish, and ride their hardest
at the final jump, the first light-weight and the first welter to
cross which are thereafter entitled to sport pink and gain the honour
of laying scent for the succeeding hunt. The sport is extremely good
though very rough, which is mainly owing to the marshy nature of the
soil and the fact that as the Chinese do not here raise banks or
hedges between their fields the jumping is mostly over water and dry
ditches of considerable width and depth, which accounts for a goodly
number of nasty spills. Although compensation for damage to crops is
awarded by the hunt club, considerable care must be taken to guard
against traps wilfully laid by the natives, who frequently remove the
trail from its proper course and lay it over almost impossible jumps,
which they further render extremely dangerous by digging holes in the
opposite banks and covering them with leaves and rubbish, after doing
which they take up safe positions of vantage to enjoy the fun.
In autumn, when the waters of the Yangtse commence to fall and the
inundated districts along its banks become dry, the plain at Hankow
affords excellent riding, where for miles one can swing along at a
hand-gallop without once having to draw rein. In spring, when covered
with fresh, green grass, it possesses an additional charm, and until
rising waters once more confine riding to the race-course and the
river bank, there are few places in China where such magnificent
gallops can be obtained.
When summer floods at Kiukiang drove our ponies from their mat stables
on the other side of the creek to the higher ground of the concession,
and turned most of the surrounding country into an immense lake, we
were in considerable perplexity as to where we should take our
afternoon rides, until the brilliant idea was conceived of utilising
the city wall, which stands about twenty feet in height, and is four
miles in circumference.
Entering by the western gate and turning sharply to the right we rode
up the stone steps, much worn by time and human feet, to the top of
the wall, which is some twelve feet in width. Picking our way
carefully, for the route was strewn with loose stones and bricks, we
usually made the circuit twice before descending. Where the steps
adjoin the wall two large right angles are formed, into which Chinese
houses have been built in such a manner that their roofs are
conterminous with, and slope at the same angle as, the steps,
rendering it possible to pass from one to the other with the greatest
of ease.
As a friend of mine was passing this point for the second time his
pony tried to bolt down the steps with the intention of returning to
stable. A violent pull at the near rein brought the brute's head
round, but without stopping him, so that he passed sideways from the
steps on to the roof of one of the houses, and together with his rider
instantly disappeared through it, amidst a cloud of dust, a crashing
of timbers and the rattle of falling tiles.
Emerging from the _debris_, and smothered with dust, my friend led his
pony through the front door into the street, where a crowd had already
collected, neither apparently any the worse for their remarkable
feat. An old woman who was in the building at the time had a narrow
escape from being crushed by the falling animal, but she soon
recovered from the shock, and a liberal sum in dollars with which to
repair the roof probably caused her to regret that similar accidents
did not more frequently befall.
At Peking, where for a time I was clerk of the course, a most
remarkable incident occurred, for the accuracy of which I had
irrefutable proof.
A pony named "Chalk," which I had purchased from a Chinese soldier for
twenty-five dollars, had carried all before him at the previous autumn
meeting, for which reason I was naturally greatly attached to him, and
he, although an extremely vicious animal towards others, tolerated me
with a forbearance but rarely met with in a China pony.
At the succeeding spring meeting Chalk was a hot favourite for the
principal events. The evening before the races I passed with several
friends, when the chances of different ponies, and of Chalk in
particular, were discussed till a late hour. That night I dreamed that
after I had been riding Chalk, I was standing dismounted and holding
the reins, on a plot of grass surrounded with trees, while the pony
was lying on the ground. Raising his head and neck two or three times
in attempts to get up he finally struggled into a sitting position,
standing on his forelegs but with his haunches on the ground, and then
sank back dead.
The dream was so vivid and left such an impression on me, that by way
of conversation, and without attaching the slightest importance to it,
I related the circumstance in practically the same words as employed
here, to a Russian friend, who accompanied me early next morning to
the course.
Again, on the grand-stand, a quarter of an hour or so before the races
commenced, I laughingly told a son of the Dutch minister of my dream,
explaining the circumstances and the scene in full.
Looking in the pink of condition, Chalk came out for the first event,
one mile, and won hands down by several lengths. After dismounting in
the enclosure and weighing in, I was being convoyed by my friends to
the bar in order to celebrate the victory in champagne, when I heard
someone say, "Look at Chalk!"
Turning round, I saw him staggering backwards as if he had been struck
a heavy blow on the head. As I rushed forward and seized the reins by
which the mafoo had been leading him, he fell to the ground, and there
on the club lawn, surrounded with trees, exactly as seen in my dream,
he attempted to rise two or three times, eventually getting into a
sitting position, and then falling back was dead in less than ten
seconds.
My Russian friend was aghast, and pressed into my hand a small coin,
which he said would keep off the evil spirits, but I was then too much
concerned at the loss of my favourite to pay heed to either spirits or
dreams, although I had instantly recognised both the scene and the
locality, the only difference being that the sympathising crowd which
now pressed round me and my fallen steed had been absent in the
vision.
I am not a believer in dreams, and possessing an excellent digestion
but rarely have any, and for this one can offer no explanation beyond
that it was a most remarkable coincidence.
At the time it created quite a mild sensation amongst the European
community, while the Chinese who heard of it were extremely
interested.
My Russian and Dutch friends I have since met on several occasions,
when, in the presence of others, we talked of my dream and its
fulfilment.
Both in Peking and in the various parts of China where I have since
been stationed, I have frequently related the occurrence to Chinese
acquaintances, and they have always given an interpretation of it
which has invariably been to the effect that in this world, or in a
previous existence, I either lent money or did a great service to some
friend, who, dying before repayment had been made, came back to earth
in the form of a horse, and after winning for me sufficient money to
discharge his debt, returned to the realms of departed spirits.
"THE HAGUE,
"_26th March 1903_.
"MY DEAR READY,--In reply to yours of 23rd I will certainly
gladly corroborate the incident regarding Chalk's death. I do
not remember exactly the details as you put them to me now,
though I have not the least doubt they were the true features
of the case. What I do still remember is this: that you gave
---- and myself a somewhat circumstantial account of your
dream shortly before the race; that immediately after the
death of the pony you came up to us and called attention to
the remarkable fulfilment of your dream, and that I was at the
time much impressed with the case, both as regards the main
fact and the details, which tallied remarkably with what I
could then still remember of your prophetic account of the
event. Whether to look upon this as some 'Borderland'
manifestation or merely as a remarkable coincidence does not
belong to the province of,--
"Yours very truly,
"T.T.H. FERGUSON."
My Russian friend has long since returned to the dominions of the
Great White Czar and I have not his address, otherwise I feel
confident that he, too, would gladly support with his testimony my
account of this remarkable occurrence.