I fancy that I must have possessed as curious a lot of horses as has
fallen to the lot of most men--occasioned partly by the fact that
friends who, whenever they had a particularly queer-tempered or vicious
brute, were in the habit of either presenting it to me as a gift, or
offering it for a mere song; partly through my having bought several
with peculiar reputations; and, lastly, I think that it must have been
predestined that I was to be the owner of these sort of animals. My
first pony, which my father bought for me when I was six years old, was
purchased from a gentleman who parted with it because it always ran
away with his children and kicked them off. The pony, however, never
did this with me, although playing the same trick with almost everyone
else. One thing, I petted it very much, and it really was fond of me.
It was a wonderful pony. What its age was I do not know, but it was in
my possession for twenty-two years, and was said to be an old one when
my father bought it. Its death at last was brought on by eating a
quantity of half-ripe apples. Having been turned out into an orchard, a
sudden gale in the night knocked down a great many of them, and the old
fellow ate such a lot that they brought on an attack in his stomach,
which killed him in a few hours.
I had one very queer-tempered horse given to me. A friend, a great
hunting man, wrote and asked me to come up and lunch with him and talk
over some intended "meets." I accepted the invitation, and went up to
his house. After lunch he proposed a stroll over his stables. As we
were going over them we came to a horse in a stall quite away from the
rest of the stud. My friend asked me if I did not know it. I, however,
did not recognise the horse, as it had a longish coat on, and he then
told me that it was one that a Mr Goldsmidt had given 500 guineas for
about a year previously, and, finding it too much for him, had
presented it to my friend. "Now," said he, "I will give it to you, and
if you will not have the animal I shall send it to the kennel
to-morrow." I, as may be imagined, was greatly surprised, as the horse
was considered to be one of the best hunters in England. Its legs
seemed quite fresh and generally all right, so far as I could see.
Thinking that I could send it to the kennel as well as he could, if it
turned out useless, I accepted the gift with thanks.
Just as we were leaving the stables, my friend dropped back, and I
overheard him say to a groom, "Take that horse down to Captain T----'s
stables _at once_." Well, thought I, there is some screw loose--and a
pretty big one I fancy.
On reaching home, late in the afternoon, my groom met me and said, "The
new horse has come, sir; but he seems a pretty queer one." I went round
to the stables at once, and there I found the horse looking very wild,
his eyes almost standing out of his head, and he himself as far back
out of his stall as his halter-rein would allow, though not hanging on
it. I went up and began to talk to him, and at length he seemed
quieter, and his eye did not look so wild; at last he let me hold his
head-stall. I then patted and coaxed him as much as possible, and
gradually got him up into his stall. Just as I had succeeded in this,
the groom came with the evening feed. Directly the horse saw him, he
began to make a roaring noise, more like a bull than anything else.
Fortunately I had hold of his head-stall, or I think he would have
damaged the man. On loosening his head, thinking he would feed quietly,
he snapped at the corn just as a terrier does at a rat, catching up a
mouthful and then dropping it. I at last managed to slide slowly out of
his stall, and left him for the night.
The next day I sent for some men to clip him. They did their work very
well, but I subsequently heard that they declared they would never
touch him again; they would as soon clip a Bengal tiger.
Soon after this I had him out for a ride and discovered another of his
amiable peculiarities. Whenever he met or passed a conveyance of any
sort, he kicked out at it most furiously; I suppose that some time or
other he had been struck when passing something. It was a most
dangerous trick, and took a very long time and great patience to
overcome. However, at last I cured him.
Another peculiarity that he had was his great objection to my mounting
him when in uniform. He did not mind it in the least when I was once in
the saddle, and took not the slightest notice of my sword rattling
against his ribs; but he could not bear the act of mounting. I used to
have him blindfolded at first, but afterwards, by always petting him,
giving him sugar, &c., he lost his dislike to being mounted.
One morning, sometime after I had had him, my groom sent in word that
the new horse had kicked his stall all to pieces, and, on going into
the stable, I found he had done it and no mistake. There was scarcely a
piece of the strong oak partitions bigger than one's hand; they were
literally smashed. What made him do it I cannot imagine; he never tried
it again. Strangely enough, after all this violent kicking, the only
place where he had marked himself was a little bit not bigger than a
florin on his near fetlock, where he had knocked off the hair.
One trick he had of which I never cured him. This was when out hunting.
When taking the first fence, on landing he invariably kicked up as high
as he could. Often and often when he seemed particularly quiet I
thought, "Well, old fellow, you surely won't kick to-day": but, as
certainly as the fence came, so surely did he kick--but never except at
the first fence.
As a hunter he was perfection, and never, with one exception, refused a
fence with me. On that occasion I felt that I was not certain about
taking it. I was late at the meet, and the hounds had slipped off
down-wind, so my only chance of getting the run was by a lucky nick in.
I was riding to a point that I thought they would make to, and had just
jumped over into a lane and was riding at the fence on the opposite
side, when I caught sight of a man in pink riding down the lane. I
turned my head quickly to look at him, and the horse feeling the slight
motion I suppose, and thinking that I was going to join the man swerved
round, but, on my turning his head to the fence again, he took it at
once. This was the only time he ever swerved at or refused a fence.
I lost him in a very curious way. I was out hunting one day when the
going was very deep and bad, and we were galloping through a piece of
plough. At the top of the field was a cut quickset hedge and a gate. I
rode at the latter, thinking that the ground would be sounder there,
and the jump would not take so much out of my horse. When I got to the
gate, he rose at it, and then made a tremendous effort to draw his
hind-legs out of the deep mud. Not meeting the resistance he expected,
his hind-legs flew up so that he landed on the other side almost in a
perpendicular position, his tail brushing my hat, and for a moment I
really thought he would fall over on me. However he came down
apparently all right and cantered a few yards into the next field, when
he made a most extraordinary flounder and stopped. I jumped off at
once, and found him sitting up, just as you often see a dog, with his
fore-legs straight out and his hind ones at right angles to his body.
In a minute or so he rolled over on his side. I tried to get him up,
but he did not move. A veterinary surgeon who was out, seeing that
something was wrong, came up, and, on examining him, declared that his
back was broken. And so it proved to be: the violent jerk of his
hind-legs had done it. Of course I had to have him shot at once. I was
very sorry to lose him, as he was such a perfect hunter.
Another of my horses I bought from the farmer who bred him; he was a
black, nearly thoroughbred, and a very fine-looking animal. I had often
seen his owner riding him to market and other places, nearly always at
a hand-gallop, and the horse never appeared heated or even blown. I had
also seen him in the hunting field. After purchasing him, I tried him
over some fences that had been made for the purpose in one of my
fields, and he jumped fairly for a young one, so I took him out with
the hounds when they met in an easy country. The first thing I put him
at was a small gate; but this he would not have, so I set him at a low,
dry stone wall, which he cleared well. So he did also the next two or
three fences; but on coming to another he did not make the slightest
effort to jump--simply ran at it, and blundered through it somehow. The
next fence, in spite of my shaking him up and letting him have the
spurs pretty smartly, he did in the same way, then cleared one fairly;
but on my putting him at a bar-way he never rose at all, but went full
tilt at it and smashed it to bits. I was a good deal disgusted at these
performances, but tried him another day, a friend saying I did not
rouse him sufficiently. Anyhow, this next time I did so, but it had no
effect. He scrambled his fences in just the same way, never, however,
coming down. After this I lent him to my friend (who thought I did not
ride him with sufficient resolution) for a day's hunting by way of a
trial; and the horse signalised himself so that I determined to part
with him. He had gone on in his usual way until we came to a brook
about twelve feet wide, but deep. I jumped it all right, and looked
back to see how my friend fared. The brute of a horse did not attempt
to clear it, but actually galloped into it, turning a complete
somersault, so that he actually scrambled out on the same bank he came
from. Fortunately my friend got his feet out of the stirrups, feeling
that the animal would not clear it, and was flung on the opposite bank,
merely getting his legs wet. After this I sent the brute to
Tattersall's, and got a very good price for him on account of his make
and shape; in fact, you could not see a finer-looking hunter nor ride a
greater impostor.
Another curious animal I had I bought quite accidentally.
It was at Newmarket during a July Meeting, and one morning I strolled
up to the paddocks where the sales were going on, expecting to see
there a friend I wished to meet. On walking up to the ring, a very fine
horse was being led slowly round; it was evidently quite quiet, went
round the ring like any old sheep; but scarcely any bids and those very
low ones, were being made for it. Catching the auctioneer's eye, I gave
a bid, and, not seeing my friend, walked off. Just as I had got to the
gate one of the auctioneer's clerks ran after me and asked where they
should take my horse to. I denied having bought one; but the man
persisted, so I went back and found the horse had actually been knocked
down to me, the auctioneer telling me it was really cheap for
dogs'-meat at the price I had given. The horse was sent down to my
trainer's, and, meeting him later on in the day on the course, he said,
"Well, sir, so you bought Vulcan?" I told him how it occurred, at which
he was much amused, and, on my asking him some questions, told me he
was a splendid horse--wonderfully bred and looking all over like
galloping, but that he never would try. He had no pride, he said, and
would lob along in the ruck as happily as possible. He had been in lots
of stakes, but no one could do anything with him; he would make a
waiting race with a mule they said.
It was a most curious case. The horse seemed to have every requisite of
make, shape, and action, and yet could not be induced to try to race.
It appeared to make no difference whether the rest of the things were
in front of him or if they came up and passed him; he kept on about the
same pace, and would not try to race. If punishment was attempted, the
horse showed such evident symptoms of temper that it was not safe to
continue it.
At last he was used by the trainer as a hack, and, in his absence,
taken out by the head lad, when out to superintend the gallops.
I had almost forgotten his existence, when one day I received a letter
from my trainer asking me to come down to Newmarket the next day by a
mid-day train, when I should find a hack waiting for me at the station,
and that he would be at the New Stand, on the race-course side, to meet
me, as he wished me to see a trial.
I of course went down and met my trainer at the Stand. After a little
conversation, we cantered off to the place where the trial was to come
off, and stationed ourselves at the spot fixed for the winning-post. He
then gave a signal, and shortly I saw four horses galloping towards us
and keeping pretty fairly together until perhaps about two lengths off,
when one of them came away from the others, leaving them almost as if
they were standing still. "Well," I said, "of course I don't know what
the weights are, but that is as hollow a thing as I ever saw. What
horse is that?" I asked. To my intense surprise, he said, "Vulcan."
"How in the world did you get him to gallop?" said I. "That's rather a
curious story," replied the man. "We found it out quite by accident. I
was away last week for a day or two looking at some very promising
yearlings in Dorsetshire, and Jackson (the head lad) took out the
string, riding Vulcan as hack. They were exercising on the Bury side,
and a boy who was going rook-tending passed by. Boy-like, when he saw
the horses cantering, he blew his horn--to try to give them a start, I
suppose. None of them minded it except Vulcan, and he clapped his legs
under him and bolted off with Jackson as hard as he could go. When I
came back next day he told me about it, but did not seem to think
anything of it. However, it struck me differently, so I went and found
the boy and told him to come to me the next day with his horn--which he
did. I took the string out, and told the boy to blow as we passed him.
He did so, and Vulcan again bolted clear away, past all the other
horses. So I felt sure I had found out how to make him go, and to-day
if you noticed (which I had not) a boy blew a horn as they passed him
and the horse again came away, though the others did their best, and he
was giving them from 2 lb. to 4 lb."
"You certainly have found out how to make him gallop," I said; "but I
don't see how you are always to have a trumpeter about after him." "I
think it can be managed," he replied. "I want you to enter him for the
Handicap Steeple Stakes at the next meeting. He will only have a
feather to carry, and at the time of the race, if you could be with the
boy about the T.Y.C. winning-post, and, as the horses come by, tell him
to blow, it won't be noticed in the least."
The horse was duly entered and I performed my part, and he won with
consummate ease. The scene afterwards in the Birdcage when I went in to
see him weighed was most amusing. Everybody was rushing up to me to
find out how he had been treated; the most wonderful stories were set
about as to the quantity of whisky and port wine that had been
administered to the horse, but the facts were as I have stated. He won
in the same way and with the same ease in July behind the Ditch. After
this we tried him without the horn, and he went fairly, so I put him
into a selling race, which he won, and I sold him for a very fair
price. I did not hear much of him afterwards, but believe he got back
to his old tricks.
Another horse that I bought I knew to be a reprobate when I purchased
him. He was a very fine racehorse, and had run well in the
Derby--fourth or fifth, I think--and afterwards won several very
valuable stakes; but in some of his last races he was severely
punished, and this quite upset his temper. He became savage; then he
was operated on and turned sulky, and at last developed a curious trick
(no one seemed to know exactly how he managed it) of getting rid of his
jockeys, nearly causing the death of his rider on two or three
occasions. He was sent to Tattersall's to be sold, with various other
"weed-outs" from his owner's stable.
I bought him thinking that he might make a steeplechaser, as rogues on
the flat often develop into good "'chasers."
Being anxious to find out how he got rid of his riders, a day or so
after I had him I ordered him to be saddled, and, mounting him myself,
I took him into a thirty-acre field of light plough, thinking, if I got
a fall, it would not hurt there. I wanted to find out what he could do,
telling my groom to watch carefully and see what his manoeuvre was.
Well, I just walked him round the field several times, and he went as
quietly as possible; then I trotted him, and still everything was
pleasant, and I began to think that the change of scene and course had
produced its effect. Next I put him into a canter. At this pace he did
not go quite so well, and evidently was looking out for something; but
at last he appeared to have settled fairly into his canter. Then,
catching hold of his head, I just touched with the spur to make him
gallop, when, without a moment's notice, I was sent out of the saddle
like a stone from a catapult. When I got up, the brute was trotting
away in the opposite direction to that in which I had been riding. I
very soon caught him, and going down to my groom, asked him what on
earth the horse had done. I need hardly say the man had not seen him.
Of course, he said he fancied he heard someone calling just then and
looked round; the fact being that, seeing the horse go quietly at
first, he thought it was all right, and never took the trouble to
watch.
As I was determined to find out the trick, I made my groom mount him.
The man rather funked it, and said he had no spurs on; so I gave him
mine, and he mounted and went off. However, his reign was not long.
Starting in a canter, he tried to gallop the horse, and touched him
with the spurs, whereupon the brute shot out a fore-leg and spun round
on it just as if he had been a teetotum. Of course, the man flew off,
just as I had done. However I saw clearly that he would not bear the
spur, and this seemed to be the secret. I mounted him again, without
spurs, and rode him round and round for a considerable time, and got
him to gallop by degrees, but in a very sulky way. If I attempted to
rise in my stirrups, or even move my heel towards his side, I felt he
was preparing for his dodge; however, I did not give him a second
chance.
After this I rode him regularly every day for an hour or more in the
plough, and, finding he was not touched with the spur the horse went
fairly freely. Next I took him out with my groom, riding a steady old
hunter, and tried him over some small plain fences on a ground I had
for schooling horses. He took to the work at once, and became very
clever, and, as it was quite clear that his temper would hinder him
from being a 'chaser, I rode him with the hounds, and a finer hunter
never existed; but I never rode him with spurs, and always had to
remember not to touch him with my heels. If I moved them towards him I
felt him begin to screw up; but he never required pressing--he was so
very free and fast. He never, however, forgot his old tricks, and a
very favourite amusement of the youngsters in the district was when
they met anyone who was bumptious about his riding to offer to bet him
that he would not gallop a certain horse round a paddock three times.
Then they got me to lend them my old friend. It is quite needless to
say that no one ever did succeed in sitting him three times round, as
they were sure to rise in their stirrups and touch him with the spur,
with the invariable consequences.
I sold him at last to a man who had often seen me ride him, and who
envied him for his great speed, having warned him that he would not
bear spurs. However, he would have the horse, and took him into
Leicestershire, where he went very well I believe.
The best horse I ever had must have been predestined to become my
property, so singularly did I meet it and ultimately purchase it.
I went one day to St Pancras terminus to meet a friend who was coming
up by one of the Midland trains. Getting there before the train had
arrived, I was wandering about the station, to pass away the time, when
I saw a string of horses being unloaded, and amongst them there was one
that had been unboxed and was standing as quietly as possible by itself
not the least startled by all the noise and clatter. I glanced at it,
and thought it a fine-looking animal; but just then, my friend's train
coming in, I joined him, and we went off together.
In the afternoon I was going down by a train from London Bridge, and
when I walked out on to the platform, curiously enough there was the
same string of horses being boxed to go down to a large firm of dealers
in the South; there too was the same horse that I had seen at St
Pancras, standing as quietly as possible waiting her turn to be boxed.
I went up to look at her, and admired her very much. She was a
dark-brown, and seemed to have very good legs and feet, though I could
not see much of her, as she was all clothed up and legs bandaged; but I
had not much time to look over her, as my train was ready, so I got in,
and, for the moment, never thought anything more about her.
Some short time after this I had a letter from a large firm of
horse-dealers, telling me that their "show day" was to come off next
week, and asking me to come and look through their stables. I did not
want another horse, but thought I should like to go, and, on the fixed
day, went. On getting to their place, after a very good lunch, they
asked me to come out and go over the stud. When they opened the door of
the first stable, strangely enough there stood, just opposite the door,
the identical brown mare I had so admired on her journey through town.
The dealer, seeing I was struck with her, insisted on her being
stripped and brought out, in spite of my telling them that I did not
want a horse, and that it was no use taking the trouble to bring her
out. However, out she came, and I certainly admired her very much. To
my surprise, she stood 15 h. 3 in., though until you went close to her
you would not have thought her more than 15 hands; had four splendid
flat black legs, well ribbed up, with a very nice head and well-laid
shoulders and neck; her paces and action were excellent, and the
dealers said if I could find a fault in her they would give her to me.
I told them I did not want her, but as they were taking her in, thought
I would just ask her price. Now, horses were very dear that season,
and, as she was warranted a good hunter, excellent in harness and to
carry a lady, and only four years old, I expected that at least £100
would be asked. To my great surprise, they said £40. This, of course,
choked me off at once, as I felt sure that at that price there must be
some _very_ "loose screw." Refusing all offers of her, I drove home.
In a few days after this I had a letter from the dealers begging me to
have her, saying they would distinctly warrant her in every way, and
that she would (of course) exactly suit me. I, however, again declined
her.
A week or so after this I was told that a man was at my stables and
wanted to see me, and, on going out, found that these dealers had
actually sent the mare over for me to try. Well, they gave me a written
warranty of the strongest kind, engaging, amongst other things, either
to give me another horse or return the price if she did not suit me;
and the end was I bought her.
Well, I had her out the next day and tried her, and found her as good
as they said her to be--rather too high action for a hack, but very
showy and perfect in harness; did not seem to know what shying meant; a
most beautiful light hunter, and a very free goer. I thought I had
found perfection, and everything went on well for more than a week,
until one day, when I had come back from a drive, my groom sent in word
to say that he wanted to see me at the stables. On getting there, he
told me that the mare would not go into the stable, and, sure enough,
whenever he tried to lead her in she placed herself flat against the
wall, and refused to move. We got her to the door at last, and she
stood with her head just inside; and, though I tried to tempt her with
corn, green-meat, sugar, &c., she absolutely refused to go farther.
At length, without any warning, she suddenly rushed in and round into
her stall, with such violence that she nearly slipped up against her
manger, and only recovered herself after a great struggle; and on the
next day, when they tried to bring her out, she rushed out just in the
same violent way. Here was the "loose screw" with a vengeance! but as I
did not wish to part with her (for she was perfection with the
exception of this trick), I set to work to try how to cure her of it.
After some time we found that we could get her in and out of the stable
by backing her, and this, though a rather awkward plan, was quite
successful. I may say that after some years we got her to walk in
quietly. The dealers had evidently kept an eye on her, for when they
found out that I had hit on a plan by which I could get her into and
out of a stable without danger they had the impudence to write and
offer me £60 and _another horse_ if I would let them have her back;
and, on my taking no notice of this, actually wrote again and offered
me £100.
Curiously enough, the mare would go into and out of a _strange_ stable
quite quietly, but directly she got accustomed to it began the rushing
game.
This mare was perfect with that one exception, and did not know what
fear was. If a gun was fired close to her, she would not take the least
notice, and would allow a rifle to be fired under her nose, with the
reins on her neck, and not even move her head.
I always believe that shying and all that kind of trick in a horse is
the fault, in nearly every case, of the rider. Of course there are
differences of temperament in horses as in men, but as a rule, what I
have stated is the case, and I once had what I consider a remarkable
illustration of it.
I was on the staff at the first autumn manoeuvres in the Aldershot
district in 1871, and one day I was riding back to camp after a heavy
day, when I met a friend--a cavalry officer. We stopped to talk over
the day, and just as we were parting he said to me, "Oh, I have a lot
of horses eating their heads off; if you would take one and ride it, it
would save yours and do mine good." I of course accepted the offer with
thanks, saying at the same time, "I suppose it is a charger," and
received (as I thought) an answer in the affirmative.
The horse was sent over to my stables that evening, and the next
morning at 4 A.M., on going out of my tent, I found a very fine bright
chestnut horse, evidently nearly thoroughbred, being led about by my
groom. Well, I mounted him and rode off, and after duly inspecting the
pickets and outposts, rode on to join the general staff. As I was going
along I suddenly found myself on one of those dangerous pieces of
ground that are to be often met with in the Aldershot district--all
seamed with cart-ruts worn into the sand, varying from 2 to 4 feet in
depth, and overgrown with heather, so that you cannot detect them until
you are actually amongst them. Finally, finding where I was, I took my
legs out of the stirrups, and put the reins on the horse's neck,
knowing that I could not help him, and let him pick his way as best he
could. He was doing this very cleverly, when suddenly a gun from a
battery, concealed in a hollow close by, was fired (it was, in fact,
the gun to tell the troops to be ready to move). My horse did not take
the slightest notice of it, not even pricking his ears. Of course I
thought that as he took no sort of notice of big guns he must be
thoroughly broken, and used him as if he was--riding him with cavalry,
artillery, and infantry, taking points, and doing everything that
pertains to a staff officer's duties; and no horse could have done
better or been more thoroughly steady.
At the end of the manoeuvres I returned him to my friend with many
thanks, and he very soon sold him as a broke charger for a long price.
Shortly after this I was dining with my friend at the mess of his
regiment, and, after dinner, in the ante-room, I happened to remark to
an officer, "What a very good riding-master and staff they must have to
break in so young a horse so thoroughly." He looked rather amused, and
replied, "I suppose you refer to Red Rover?" (the name of the horse). I
said, "Yes." "Well," he answered, "you broke him!" I was, of course,
greatly surprised, but found it was actually the case. The horse had
never been ridden with troops until he was lent to me, and I feel not
the slightest doubt that it was the fact of his being on that dangerous
piece of ground, and my having my feet and hands both loose when the
gun was fired so unexpectedly, that gave him confidence. I could not
have influenced him in the slightest degree. Of course, if I had been
on ordinary ground, and had seen that a gun was going to be fired, I
should, naturally enough, have slightly tightened the reins and felt
his mouth and pressed my legs to his side, and thus have drawn his
attention to the fact that something was going to take place. As I did
not, he took the noise as a matter of course, and did not notice it;
and so, through mutual ignorance, we had perfect confidence in one
another. But there is a sequel to this. Some months later I had a
letter from my friend, telling me that if I wished to buy the horse I
might get him for almost nothing, as the man he sold him to gave an
awful character of him as a charger. As the horse was in the same
district I happened to be in, I went to see him, and certainly the
groom gave him a bad character. I got leave to try him, and very soon
found that his present owner must be a very irritable, nervous man. The
horse had had his mouth so jagged about with the bit that he never kept
his head still for a minute, and, if you told him to mark a flank,
directly it approached began to switch his tail and tried to kick,
having evidently had frequent digs with the spur to make him steady.
Altogether the horse was quite spoiled for a charger through his
rider's fidgets; and, as I did not care to take the trouble to try and
break him again, I did not have anything more to do with him. But I
think this was a striking proof of how a horse can be made and unmade.