educating their horses also educated themselves. This seems reasonable
enough, for the Kentucky saddle-horse is the best trained of any saddle
animals in America, though the circus tricks of what are called the
“high-school horse” are unknown. It used to be common there at the
county fairs to have rings for men, and for boys under fifteen, in which
they competed with one another as to skill in horsemanship. The
competitors put their horses through all the paces and were required by
the judges to change horses, so as to see what each rider could do on a
strange horse. These rings were most interesting, and the largest crowds
of visitors were usually attracted by these features. I never saw any
“circus tricks” but once. Then a German, who had served in the Civil
War, entered in the contest making his horse do the common high-school
feats, including that of going to his knees and lying down. This German
carried off the blue ribbon to the amazement of many, including myself.
The fact proved, however, that the Kentuckians, who happened to be
judges that day, were not inhospitable to foreign ideas, and recognized
that the best rider was the one who had the greatest control over his
horse and could get the most out of him. Now I believe that they were
right, though at the time I protested against such a judgment with all
my might. Since then in the army riding schools many of these arts are
properly included in the course of instruction. No good knowledge is
amiss in a horse, and the best rider is he who can make his horse do the
most kinds of things, even though some of them seem rather absurd and
useless. It goes rather against the grain for me to say this for I, like
most gentlemen riders in America, was brought up with the English notion
that to ride straight and fast and be in at the finish was both the
beginning and the end of horsemanship, while I looked upon anything else
as not only superfluous but rather unmanly. In this country at that
time, and to a very great extent now, we looked upon all the Continental
people of Europe as most unsportsmanlike and mere dandy frivolers in
horsemanship. This is the case in England to-day, universally the case.
There the hunting field and the polo grounds are the only places where
horsemanship is put to the test. In those fields the riding of
Englishmen and Irishmen is superb. No other people can compete with
them. That is natural enough, however, as they do more in the way of
hunting and polo than any others and pay more attention to the breeding
of horses suitable to these kinds of work. But the prejudice against the
Continentals in horsemanship is as insular as many other opinions that
are cherished there. It is also entirely undeserved. Among the French,
the Germans, the Austrians and Italians are splendid riders, men who can
go anywhere an Englishman can, and also perform feats an Englishman
never dreamed of.
I recall very well when Buffalo Bill first took his “Broncho Busters” to
England that the press and the people, particularly the horsemen,
insisted that these vicious wild horses, that had been spoiled in the
breaking, were merely trick horses, trained to their antics and taught
to buck and plunge and turn somersaults. At length came the request that
some English riders be permitted to try the bronchos. The request was
hospitably entertained, and one afternoon several men appeared. They
insisted, however, that they be permitted to use English saddles and
bridles. This request was acceded to and the experiments were tried. I
never saw a more pitiful exhibition of helplessness. They tumbled off as
though they were inexperienced babies, and some were more or less hurt.
Indeed the experiments resulted in so many accidents that they were
given up as too dangerous. The English saddle and the English seat are
well adapted to the hunting field, but not at all suitable for the kind
of riding cow-punchers have to do and the kind of horses that they have
to use. This is proved by the fact that when an Englishman goes into
ranch life in this country, and many of them have done it, they soon
adopt the Mexican saddle and the cowboy seat. The many exhibitions given
by Cody in Europe have made the people over there believe that the Rough
Rider is the typical American horseman. It is unquestionably an American
style that is well adapted to the work and the purpose which created it.
And yet there are no schools at which a man can learn rough riding
except the ranches. There I am sure there is no systematic instruction;
but the beginner observes and imitates the experts, and by practice
acquires the art which enables him to “bust” a broncho. Some learn
quickly, some slowly, and some never at all.
This is as it is in other kinds of riding whether in the park, over the
hurdles or in the hunting field. Instruction, imitation, and practice
are what make a rider—the man who rides the most being apt to be the
best. Even, however, when a man rides a great deal, unless he use
intelligence he will never become either expert or graceful. I have
known men who rode for many years without acquiring either grace or
skill in the saddle. This was either from inaptitude or from a careless
disregard of the principles of the art. I have known other men who had
strong seats, which enabled them to acquit themselves well in the
hunting field, but who never were graceful or seemed entirely at ease.
They simply lacked the grace that usually is part and parcel of good
horsemanship. It is generally supposed that at West Point Military
Academy there is maintained the best riding school in the country. This
is probably true. But I have seen comparatively few American army
officers who looked “smart” in the saddle. Their idea is, no doubt, to
be businesslike rather than finished. In this I believe they are quite
wrong for “slouchiness” is out of harmony with the military seat just as
it is in the park or the show ring. It finds its only appropriate place
among the rough riders of the plain.
“I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm’d,—
Rise from the ground like feather’d Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp’d down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus;
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.”
The Indian should probably be considered the real American type[11] of
rider. There were no horses here when the whites came, but the Indians
rather quickly caught and subjugated some of the wild horses that were
descended from the castaways of the Spanish explorers. They undoubtedly
taught themselves to ride in the first place, though many of them had
seen mounted white men. It is impossible to think that in the many
generations that they have been using horses, that they have not
improved in their horsemanship. At any rate they have a style of their
own, and as bareback riders they cut a great dash. But they are not good
horsemen. They are cruel to their horses, and are far from getting the
best results out of their mounts. The whites, as was proved year after
year in the frontier warfare, can outride them even when the whites
carry more weight and more impedimenta.
Footnote 11:
I hope it will never occur to a visitor to this country to think that
what is called the mounted traffic squad of the New York police
represent any American type of riders. With them it is
go-as-you-please and kind Heaven help us from falling off. Only a few
moments before making this note I saw a group of these police going
through the Fourth avenue. Some were ambling, some single-footing,
some in a hand gallop and some trotting. One noble horse, fit for a
general’s charger, was going two or three gaits at once and the rider
keeping his seat with the help of the reins.
The best horseman usually gets his instruction and acquires most of his
skill in his early youth. But there is no use in putting a boy on a
horse until he has intelligence enough to learn what he is told to do
and strength sufficient to keep his seat and manage his horse. The pony
for very young children is merely a plaything. No child ever learned
much from a pony or by means of a pony. The horse is what a man rides,
and it is upon a horse that a child should be taught. A large horse
would not be suitable for a boy of ten or eleven, the earliest age that
a boy can learn much that is valuable of the art. But the small horse,
something like a polo pony for instance, may be and should be very much
of a horse—all horse, indeed. Where there is a good riding school—that
is the place to send a lad for his first instruction. There are some
grooms, however, who make excellent instructors, even though as a
general thing grooms look like the dickens in the saddle. They know
horses, however, and know how to ride them, even though they do not
acquire the finish and excellence that is to be expected of gentlemen.
But as critics of the riding of others they are often unexcelled. Have
some kind of a master, unless he be an ignoramus, for a lad in the
beginning, and by no means let him go at the game by the light of
nature. Uninstructed he is sure to acquire habits that it will be harder
for him to overcome than it would have been for him to be correct from
the beginning. And he should be given a reason for everything he is told
to do. That it is necessary to be reasonable in riding makes me
sometimes think that it would be just as well not to put a boy on a
horse until he was fifteen or sixteen. The objection to this delay is
that a lad will be kept out of four or five years of fun in the very
playtime of his life.
A beginner should use only a snaffle-bit with one rein. The awkwardness
of a beginner and his disposition to help keep his seat with the aid of
the reins is frequently a severe hardship on a horse and pretty sure to
ruin a horse’s mouth. Besides both snaffle and curb are in the beginning
confusing, and too much of a handful for a tyro in a novel position. Of
course a correct seat in the saddle is impossible at first, but an
effort at it should be made from the start. When the beginner is placed
in the saddle he should sit up straight and let his legs hang down
straight. Then the stirrups should be adjusted so that when the ball of
the foot is upon the iron, the leg still being straight, the heel will
be about three inches below the stirrup. Then the rider should be
required to so bend his knees that his toe and heel will be on a level
without moving back into the saddle so that his buttocks will be against
the cantle. This bending of the knees will bring them in a position so
that they can clutch the horse and secure his seat. Great emphasis
should be laid upon the fact that the toes should not be turned out. The
feet should be parallel with the horse. When they are so the knees come
in contact with the saddle and the seat is secured. When a rider turns
out his toes he must depend upon the calf of the leg to form his clutch.
This not only is awkward, but it prevents the thighs from doing their
part of the work.
Being thus mounted the beginner should only walk his horse at first.
Indeed I should not recommend anything faster than a walk in the first
lesson. The object of that first lesson is to familiarize a novice to a
novel position, and enable him to know something of the sensation of
being astride a horse. If he go faster at first he is sure to bump
around and tug on the reins, the latter being about the greatest sin
against horsemanship. After this he can go in a very slow trot, and
still later in a hand gallop. Having acquired the capacity to keep his
seat in these gaits with his feet parallel to the horse and his knees
well in and without tugging on the reins to keep his balance, he has
reached the point when he may be instructed to ride with both reins,
snaffle, and curb. There are some riders who never use other than the
snaffle, indeed it was quite a fad in the neighborhood of New York a few
years ago. But I do not believe that the very best results can be
obtained without the curb. The curb enables a rider to keep his horse
better in hand, and a horse not in hand under the saddle is apt to do
several disagreeable things—sprawl or be slouchy in his gaits, for
instance, or worse than all tumble down.
To hold the snaffle and curb reins in the left hand properly so that
either one or both may be used at pleasure is most important. The reins
of the curb bit should be divided by the little finger, the reins of the
snaffle by the long finger, the loose ends of both pairs being carried
through the hand and held by the thumb against the forefinger. The right
hand should be kept on the loose ends of the reins behind the left, and
when reins are needed to be shortened the right hand should pull them or
either of them through the bridle hand; but when the right hand is
needed in assistance of the bridle hand, the right should be placed in
front of the left. The knuckles of the bridle rein should be kept up.
This all seems simple enough, and it is so simple when learned that an
experienced rider never gives it a thought; but new riders some times
find it hard to learn, indeed some never learn it.
The beginner should not use a spur. Most people think a spur is an
instrument of punishment. It should seldom be so used. It is merely a
tool to assist the rider in conveying his wishes to the horse. But to an
obstinate, pig-headed horse it is a reminder that the rider has
something in reserve. The horse, by the way, is not the intellectual
animal that some think, and “horse sense” ought not to be much of a
compliment to a man. Seven horses out of ten will become bullies, and
get the upper hand if they be suffered so to do. There is one sense,
however, that even a bullying horse always preserves—he knows the touch
of the master hand and stops his “monkey shines” in very short order.
But there are other horses—crazy horses and fool horses. The crazy horse
can be subdued by the Rarey or other similar method, but for the fool
horse there is no hope. He learns nothing, remembers nothing—the glue
factory for him is the only proper place.
And how late in life can a man take up horseback riding? That is hard to
say. There are men and men—some at forty are to all intents and purposes
sixty, while others at sixty appear not over forty. So long as a man
retains a reasonable amount of suppleness and agility he is not too old
to take up horseback riding and get great pleasure and benefit out of
it, while if he began as a youth and has kept it up there is no reason
why he should give it up so long as he can sit a horse and the exercise
is not too exhausting. Remember what Lord Palmerston said: “The best
thing for the inside of a man is the outside of a horse.” And it is so;
there is no exercise that so aids digestion, none which more completely
takes the cobwebs out of the brain. A man who takes up horseback riding
in middle life need not expect to become as accomplished say as his son
who began at twelve; but if he will give his mind to it he will be apt
to do very well and will surely get from it both pleasure and profit. I
know a lady who did not take up horseback riding until she was a mother.
I have seen her in the hunting field since she became a grandmother
sailing along as gaily as a bird, and even taking a tumble with the
serene amiability of a youth in small clothes. But she has found the
fabled spring.
That every rider will sooner or later have a fall is inevitable.
Therefore when the first one comes there should be no discouragement,
even to a man of middle age. Many falls are prevented when a horse
stumbles by gathering the horse, and assisting him to regain his
footing. But often, in jumping particularly, the fall cannot be
prevented. When the rider feels it coming the best way is to take the
feet from the stirrups, tuck in the chin, and fall as much like a ball
as possible, holding the reins, however, until the feet are surely clear
of the stirrups. I was recently knocked off my horse on a steep hillside
path by coming in contact with the limb of a tree. I rolled down the
hillside for fifty feet, but suffered no inconvenience though I weigh
175 pounds and carry an undue amount of that weight at the middle. Had I
landed on my head, the consequences would probably have been serious.
Every rider should learn how to make a horse change his lead in the
gallop, that is, change the leading foot from right to left and back
again. Horses naturally go with the right foot in front or the left foot
in front, as the case may be, just as children are more dextrous with
the right hand or the left. When the change is desired, the horse should
be well in hand, and when from right to left is required the right heel
should be applied when the leading foot is on the ground, and the hind
legs are leaving it; immediately thereafter as the right fore foot is
rising the left rein should make a slight play and the change in lead
will be effected without a false step or disturbance in pace. Every
rider should practise making figure eights, each circle being from
twenty to thirty feet in diameter, and asking his horse to change the
lead when going from one circle to the other. In some show rings the
judges require that the riders do this, and those who accomplish it
easily and gracefully help their score very considerably.
The American jockeys have developed a new method of race riding, a kind
of acrobatic horsemanship, which when the English first saw it they
called the “monkey-on-the-stick” style. The jockeys use very short
stirrups and seem to throw the weight even forward of the withers so as
to relieve the hind legs, where the propelling power is, from as much
weight as possible. It seems effective and has been almost universally
adopted by all save steeplechase riders, who still use a stirrup long
enough for both knees and legs to embrace the horse—or as Mr. Anderson
says, they still ride like men.
A good rider is apt to be also a tolerable driver. The contrary of this,
however, is not in the least the case. There are many good drivers who
were never mounted in their lives. Probably also there are many more
good drivers in this country than good riders. It is with us a more
universal method of employing the horse. Notwithstanding this, good
driving is by no means universal. Indeed I doubt whether it is common.
It seems the easiest thing in the world to sit in a wagon and pull on
the right rein or the left and go wheresoever one chooses. Because it
seems so easy all kinds and conditions of people essay to drive no
matter how little experience they may have. I have sometimes been nearly
scared out of my wits in driving with a man or woman whose every act
displayed ignorance of even first principles. Probably no more grievous
insult could be paid to a man than to betray lack of confidence in his
capacity to drive, and latterly when I have been asked to go with a man,
even to the golf links two miles away, when I knew he did not know how
to handle the reins or manage a horse I have blandly declined. Death
comes to all of us, but there seems to be lack of wisdom in seeking it
in such an ignoble fashion.
The men who train trotting horses in America are the most wonderful
drivers the world has ever seen. They seem to get more speed out of a
horse at less expense than any others. I have often thought that the
lowering of trotting records in America had been assisted in a great
degree by the increasing skill of American drivers. How many seconds
this skill may be responsible for I have no idea—maybe one second, maybe
five or ten. But their patience in developing the horse and their skill
in driving is responsible for a good deal. I have often watched the
trotters on the Speedway in New York, and many a time I have seen
contests which I was sure would have been reversed had the drivers been
changed. No doubt some men have an aptness for driving, just as others
have an aptness for riding; but driving is also an art which can be
acquired only by instruction, imitation, and practice together with a
knowledge of and consideration for horses. There are so many things that
a man must know to make him a good driver that it would take a book by
itself in which to set down the rules. I shall not make such an essay,
but content myself with a few fundamental principles.
The first that I shall mention may seem trifling but is really of much
importance. It matters not so much what kind of coat a driver may wear,
but he must have a hat that fits so well that it will not be blown off
even in a gale. Many awkward happenings have resulted from a driver’s
efforts to secure his hat at a moment when all his attention was needed
by his horse or horses. He should also have proper gloves. They should
be loose enough to enable him free use of his fingers, and indeed of all
of his hands, but not so loose that they will slip off while he is
driving. A size larger than his dress gloves would, I should say, be
about the right thing. They should also be heavy enough to prevent the
reins from hurting his hands. Dogskin is probably the best material.
Then he should, even in a runabout, be, at least, above his horse. This
is regulated by a driver’s cushion with a slant, the back being about
three inches above the front. His feet should not be sprawled out
against the dashboard, nor yet tucked awkwardly underneath him. Indeed
with a driver’s cushion either attitude would be uncomfortable if not
impossible. What he should seek for is a position in which he is at ease
in all his movements for a driver has to drive all the time, at every
moment from the starting out until he sets foot on the ground and turns
over his horse to the groom. It is carelessness in driving that causes
nearly all the accidents, for it is the unexpected that is always
happening.
One should always drive with the left hand, using the right to hold the
whip and give assistance to the left when it is required to shorten the
rein. A good mouth is just as excellent in a driving horse as in a
saddle-horse. The mouth should be like velvet, and at all times
responsive to the telegraphic signal from the hands of the driver. To
drive with a slack rein makes a horse slouchy even when a check is used.
To pull on a horse hardens his mouth and lessens the control of the
driver. Nothing is more unpleasant than a pulling horse. It is as
fatiguing in harness as in the saddle. And a puller is the easiest thing
to accomplish. When it has been accomplished the driver does as much
work as the horse. To smack a horse with the reins instead of using the
whip may be well enough for old Dobbin on the farm, but it is a silly
habit which hurts the horse, without being effective for the purpose
intended, while it proves the driver to have no knowledge of the
business. Jerking on the reins, or rather giving a pull and then letting
them loose to make a horse quicken his gait is unworthy even of a
peddler or a city huckster.
Keep your eye on your horse. That is the most important thing in
driving. The driver is in command, and it is the horse’s part to obey.
This may seem an unnecessary thing when jogging along on a long clear
road. But we should not jog along. A brisk pace is the proper pace to
drive at, and if the road be very long a rest can be taken and no time
be lost, while if the journey be only seven or eight miles the brisk
pace reduces the time, and the horse is sooner in the stable and at
rest. Poking along at a jog will in time ruin any horse. It will spoil
his style, detract from his speed, and take away his spirit. When a
horse is taken along briskly, it is absolutely necessary to keep him
always well in hand—not a pulling on the bit, but a feeling of the bit
so that the horse will know every instant of the time that he is being
driven by one who is master.
A driver should keep in communion with his horse. A horse has a keen
sense of hearing and a good memory for a voice. The master should have
his horse well acquainted with his voice. But he should not do too much
talking or chirruping when other horses are about. That is a discourtesy
to other drivers whose horses may be fretted and made restless when it
is meant that they should stand still. The disregard of this is not only
annoying but has been the cause of many accidents at crowded railway
stations, where many traps are waiting for the home-comers.
As to the method of holding the reins Mr. Price Collier, a most
accomplished horseman and charming writer on driving says: “The reins
should be held with the near rein between the thumb and first finger,
the off-rein between the third and fourth fingers. Hold your hand so
that your knuckles, turned towards your horse, and the buttons on your
waistcoat, will make two parallel lines up and down with the hand three
or four inches from the body. The reins should be clasped, or held by
the two lower, or fourth and fifth fingers; the second finger should
point straight across and upward enough to keep the near rein over the
knuckle of that finger and the thumb pointing in the same direction, but
not so much upward. The reins are held not by squeezing them on their
flat surfaces, but by pressure on their _edges_. The edges, in a word,
being held between the two last fingers and the root of the thumb. This
arrangement makes a flexible joint of the wrist, for the reins and for
the bit to play upon. This suppleness of wrist, just enough and not too
much, is what is called ‘hands.’ It means that your wrist gives just
enough play to the horse’s mouth to enable him to feel your influence,
without being either confused or hampered by it. As this is the key to
perfection in all driving, everybody claims to possess it; only the
elect few have it.”
In leaving the stable or starting out from any other place, you should
go quietly. Nothing is more vulgar than to rush off with the idea of
“cutting a dash.” It does not give the horse a fair show, and driver and
horse are not yet in good adjustment. And in stopping also it is vulgar
to rush to the stopping place and throw the horse on his haunches by a
quick pull. Neither of these things is done by good drivers, but is the
practice of either the ignorant or vulgar who wish to attract attention
to themselves at places where there are likely to be spectators.