LEARNING TO RIDE.
HOW TO SIT--TO WALK--TO CANTER--AND TO TROT.
Being now provided with a fully-caparisoned mount, it is time that
you should begin in good earnest to learn to ride; therefore to this
pleasant task we will apply ourselves, reserving the interesting
subjects of shoeing, feeding, stabling, &c., for future consideration.
To mount well must first be studied, and practised: the latter
assiduously, no matter how great the drudgery may be. It is certainly
disheartening to a learner to feel that one of the most trying portions
of her equine education is after all the only one that involves a very
serious drawback, namely, that of requiring assistance that cannot well
be done without; yet, so it is--and the difficulty is one which must
be considered and met. A lady may saddle and bridle her own horse, may
give him the finishing touches herself, and canter away, independently,
when once she is on his back--but to get there she must, as a rule,
seek for assistance from some source or another, and _animated_
sources (by which I mean men) are generally painfully inefficient. It
certainly is what is expressively termed “hard lines” on a practised
equestrian to be made an exhibition of at door or covert-side by some
inexpert individual, who either sends her clean over the saddle by the
superfluous energy of his action, or leaves her to hang fire midway
while he stoops to pick up his hat, which he manages to lose through
stupidly poking his head forward at the moment at which she is making
her spring. I know exactly what it is, and the mortification that it
entails. Many of us are, unfortunately, familiar with the feeling
that we have done precisely the right thing ourselves, but that some
officious and horribly incompetent assistant--or would-be such--has
frustrated our efforts, and left us a laughing-stock in the centre of
a crowd. It is just like going up to a piano in full possession of all
the difficulties that may mark the song selected to be sung, and being
compelled to undergo the torments inflicted by a bad accompanist, who
handicaps the singer by his own utter unfitness for his task. Half
the people present are not able to discern whether it is the voice or
the piano that is at fault; they only know that the performance is a
failure, and speak of it afterwards as such. So it is with mounting for
a ride. Say that there are a hundred persons present at a lawn meet,
and you emerge from the house to mount your horse, with the result that
you are kept struggling for an awful moment or two betwixt the ground
and the saddle by some blushing booby who has offered to put you up,
and who will neither do so properly nor suffer you to jump quite down.
At least two-thirds of the onlookers will be ready to say the fault
is yours. My advice, therefore, is, never leave yourself open to an
unpleasantness of this description; select your assistant cavalier,
just as you have a right to accept or reject a partner for a dance--and
if nobody in whom you have confidence happens to be present, have
recourse to the groom’s assistance, if you are quite certain that he
knows how to render it, and, if not, lead your horse to a low wall,
should such a thing be near enough, or take him, at all events, out of
sight of the crowd, and utilise _any_ sort of stepping-stone to reach
his back, rather than incur the ridicule or unjust remarks of the more
fortunate among your sex.
It is, of course, in some cases, quite possible for a lady to let
down her stirrup and mount by it, unassisted--drawing it up again to
the required length when seated on her saddle. To little girls riding
ponies I have already recommended this plan; but for grown equestrians
it is far more frequently impracticable than otherwise. A lady rider
may be of diminutive stature, and may yet be called upon to mount a
very tall horse; or her stirrup may not be an easily movable one (say,
for instance, that she is accepting a ride upon a borrowed mount, with
trappings entirely unlike her own), or her habit-bodice, despite all
warnings, may not be loose enough about the waist to enable her to make
the long stretch up to the pommel which unassisted mounting always
requires. Therefore, writers who say that a lady can at _all_ times be
entirely independent of extraneous assistance prove to a certainty that
they have not studied the subject.
The orthodox method of mounting is as follows: Take the reins and whip
in your right hand and lay the fingers of it firmly upon the top of
the up-pommel--grasping it, in fact; then, with your left hand, gather
your skirt away from your left foot, and place this latter in the hand
of your assistant, bending your knee as you do so. When you feel that
his palm is firmly supporting the sole of your foot, take your left
hand from your habit-skirt and place it on his left shoulder--he being
in a slightly stooping position at the time. Then give him the signal:
any pre-arranged word will do--“Ready!” “Go ahead!” “Now!” or, in
short, anything you may choose to fix. As you say the word, straighten
your knee, and make a slight spring upward, your cavalier at the same
instant raising himself to an erect position, without letting his hand
drop in the very smallest degree. By this arrangement you will reach
your saddle with comfort and expertness. It will, as already mentioned,
require some patient practice, for, like many other accomplishments,
it looks wonderfully simple and easy--until you come to try it. In
the event of having to mount by a wall, a big stone, a horse-bucket,
or other article--any one of which you may be glad at some time or
another to make use of on emergency--steady yourself well upon your
stepping-stone, whatever it may be, gather the reins in your _left_
hand, laying it firmly upon the up-pommel or on the horse’s mane, place
your foot in the stirrup, taking care that it is well freed from the
habit-skirt, then seize the cantle firmly with your right hand, and
jump into the saddle. If your skirt is properly cut, you will have no
difficulty in arranging it comfortably over your right knee when the
latter has been placed in position, and you should then lift yourself
slightly, and smooth the seat of the skirt from right to left with your
left hand, first transferring the reins and whip to your right, in
order to enable you to do so.
You should be extremely careful, if wearing a spur, to keep your left
heel _well_ away from the horse’s side when mounting: otherwise, the
consequences may be very disastrous. I once saw a lady thrown heavily
upon her face by a sudden start of her horse, through her spur having
struck him in the flank just as she reached the saddle, before she had
time to secure the support of the pommels.
Be cautious, also, not to touch your horse, when mounting, with your
whip. If you do so he will assuredly start, and may give you an ugly
fall. It is for this reason that I advocate the custom of ladies
when mounting retaining the whip in their right hand and placing it,
together with the reins, on the up-pommel of the saddle, in place
of, as many do, handing it to their assistant cavalier. A man, when
he gets a lady’s whip to hold, naturally tucks it away under his
arm, where a nervous horse keeps looking askance at it, and is often
rendered fidgetty by seeing it, even when it does not actually touch
him--although it very often does. I append two sketches, one showing
the correct position of the hand with whip and reins upon the pommel
when just about to mount, the other demonstrating the precise attitude
in which a lady ought to seat herself upon the saddle.
If properly placed, and sitting erect and even, your seat ought to
be as secure as that of a man, or even more so, although you may have
to depend (which no doubt you will) upon the girths for safety, and
also to submit to the disadvantage of not having a leg on each side of
your horse to guide him or urge him to his paces. A clever rider will,
however, make her whip-handle serve her in great measure for this.
[Illustration: MOUNTING.]
Be careful, when seated, to keep the toe of the right foot from
pointing outward, and the left heel from going back--and look right
between your horse’s ears, to ensure sitting straight.
[Illustration: SEATED.]
When you have once obtained a correct idea of position, you should
seek to acquire what is termed “a good seat”--in other words, an easy
confidence, which will add grace to your pose. I am now surmising
that you are teaching yourself--say, in a large field, or private
school--and that you have not anybody with you, save, perhaps, some
male friend or relative, who may be capable of assisting you if
required--without, however, being able to instruct. I cannot for a
moment advise you to go out _alone_ for the purpose of learning, no
matter how high-couraged you may be. Always enlist the services of a
suitable companion, or attendant, but remember that if the latter is a
servant--even though his service may be of many years’ standing--you
are not on any account to permit him to give you so much as the very
smallest hint on any subject connected with equitation. Coachmen know
nothing at all about riding; and grooms, as a rule, very little: a
fact that is every day testified by their heavy hands and awkward
gait on horseback. Laying all this aside, however, there can be no
doubt that whatever hints servants may be capable of imparting to boy
pupils, they are the very worst possible instructors for girls, while
pretending very often to be the best. I attribute one-half the faults
in style which shock our eyes in park, street, and hunting-field, to
the pernicious teachings of “John the groom”; therefore, the moment
that such persons attempt to open their lips to you, except when spoken
to, shut them up at once, in a manner which (without any rudeness) will
show that you desire them to keep silent except when addressed.
As soon as you are secure upon your saddle, and have learned to feel
at home there, get your horse walked about with the reins looped over
his neck. Do not touch them at all at first, or trouble yourself
about carrying a whip, but rather devote your energies and attention
to acquiring an _even balance_, and learning the proper grip of the
pommels--without which you never can ride well. Do not lean heavily
upon the stirrup, or force yourself to undue muscular action; nor
will it be in all cases wise to thrust the left foot “home,” as it is
called,--better ride from the ball of it. Further reference to this
point will be found in the concluding chapter.
Ascertain before starting that your stirrup-leather is precisely the
right length, in order that you may not be induced to lean to the left
side owing to its being too long, or have your knee uncomfortably
thrust up on account of its shortness. You should sit erect and square,
with chest forward and shoulders well back, yet without any appearance
of stiffness or rigidity of position. Be as firm as a rock _below_ the
waist, but light and flexible as a reed above it. On these two rules
all the beauty, and indeed the safety, of equestrianism depend.
You must practice hard to attain a good, _steady_ seat, for it will not
come to you by magic. On the contrary, you will find yourself at one
moment sitting as stiff as a poker, with your chin thrust forward in
the air--and then, when you catch yourself thus, and strive to rectify
it by assuming a sudden limpness, you will discover that your lower
limbs have grown limp also, in sympathy with the rest of your body, and
are hanging so loosely that a touch will send you out of the saddle.
Again, you will discover that the toe of your right foot has a dreadful
tendency to turn outward from the ankle, while that of the left turns
down, and shows the sole of your boot to those in the rear of you.
All these things will be seemingly against you for a long time after
you have begun to have your horse led about: a process which must
be done first by hand and then with a leading-stick, while you sit
perfectly erect, with your arms crossed upon your bosom, or your hands
lying easily (fingers laid together) in your lap, just below the waist.
Avoid, above all things, sitting too much to the left; it will not
only induce you to lean too hard upon the stirrup, a thing which you
ought not to do at all, but will be pretty certain to give your horse a
tender back from the very beginning.
When you find that you can sit quite straight and steady while your
mount carries you at a walking pace, you may have him led by a
lunging-rein, and cantered slowly in a circle to the right, or in
a figure of 8. Never on any account grip the pommels, or clutch at
the mane, no matter how frightened you may be. A little start will
not upset you, nor will a sudden playful movement have the power
to send you off, provided that you are sitting “square,” with your
right leg well pressed over the up-pommel, and your left against the
leaping-head, while your whole attention is given to your seat, and to
nothing else whatever. This is the true secret of learning to ride from
balance, and once it is yours, nothing can unseat you, so long as your
mount remains upon his legs.
Cantering is not a difficult motion by any means. When attempting it
your attendant should make your horse lead with the off fore-leg,
although, should it be your intention to ride occasionally on the left
side of the saddle, you must accustom him to lead now and again with
the near. Sit well back, and when your mount moves in a circle, lean
just sufficiently to the right to enable you to see his feet.
When you are at home in the canter you must commence to practice the
trot, which will be to you the beginning of sorrows. Do not at first
make any effort at rising in your saddle, but sit very close, and
prepare to bear the unpleasantness of the bumping--for it must be borne
for awhile--until you have become accustomed to the motion. As you
will of course have your hair flowing loosely, and a wide easy-fitting
jacket on, you will suffer fewer discomforts than if differently
apparelled.
To rise in the saddle, you must keep the left heel well down, and
move the leg as little as possible. To sway it like a pendulum will
not help you one bit. Keep your hands perfectly steady--your arms to
your sides--your left foot slightly pressing the stirrup as the horse
throws out his near fore leg, while you lift yourself very slightly at
the precise instant that his other leg is advanced. It will take you a
long while to accomplish this. Over and over again you will sigh with
disappointment, and say involuntarily, “I cannot do it!” But you can,
and will in time, if you will only persevere. Few things that are worth
learning can be acquired in a hurry; a young robust girl, with plenty
of courage and go about her, will often learn how to “stick on” in an
incredibly short space of time--but will look supremely ridiculous
notwithstanding, both then and later; to acquire the _niceties_ of
riding, however, and become an adept at them, is a degree of perfection
to which comparatively few ladies ever attain. The accomplishment of
rising and falling nicely in the saddle, in time to the trot of the
horse, can only be acquired by constant practice; I do not believe
that the fact of having a master riding alongside of you, and saying
“one, two,” “one, two,” until you are half demented, will ever teach
it, although steady perseverance on your own part may, and will.
[Illustration: “THE RIGHT AND THE WRONG OF IT.”
_page 103._]
There are three things that I want you particularly to avoid. First, an
ugly churning movement, which is hideous to look at and distressing to
the horse; second, a disposition to ride with your elbows extended, or
your left hand on hip or thigh, or placed at the back of your waist;
and third, a habit of stooping forward in the trot and hanging over
to the near side, a fault which is extremely usual with lady riders.
I give an illustration of this unsightly position, by way of warning;
supplemented by one of a figure seated correctly upon the saddle, while
her horse is trotting at the rate of eight or nine miles an hour.
As soon as you are perfectly mistress of the art of riding gracefully
from balance, and can walk, canter, and trot, both fast and slowly,
without any assistance save that which your grip of the pommels and
_slight_ help from the stirrup combine to afford you, the latter
adjunct may be discarded altogether for awhile, and you may ride for
an hour or so every day without it. You will not take very long to
practice this; indeed, the only inconvenience arising from it, at all
worth considering, will be a certain tired feeling in the left leg,
as though the limb wanted dreadfully to have something to support
it--but, believe me, a very few days of steady practice will enable
you to dispense with stirrup aid altogether, and not to feel at all
incommoded by doing so. In a week’s time at furthest you will be able
to ride quite as easily without the stirrup as with it--and surely,
even were it to involve a month’s hard labour, the result would prove
ample remuneration. If you mean to be a huntress, there will assuredly
be days when your hardly-earned accomplishment will stand you in good
stead, for never yet was there a straight-going lady who did not at
some time or another break a stirrup leather, or lose one, or find
herself in some way or another deprived, through accident, of the
support to which so many horsewomen unfortunately trust. It often
happens, too, that the misfortune occurs at a provokingly long distance
from home, and miles away, perhaps, from any place where repairs can be
executed; therefore, the advantage (in this respect alone) of learning
to ride without a stirrup must be at once apparent: to say nothing
of the great benefits derivable from having taught yourself complete
independence of any _support_ from it--a thing which always ensures an
erect and perfect seat.
[Illustration: FAULTS IN STYLE.]