COERCION.
I recollect, in years gone by, an old and pleasant comrade used to
declare that "to be in a rage was almost as contemptible as to be in a
funk!" Doubtless the passion of anger, though less despised than that of
fear, is so far derogatory to the dignity of man that it deprives him
temporarily of reason, the very quality which confers sovereignty over
the brute. When a magician is without his talisman the slaves he used to
rule will do his bidding no longer. When we say of such a one that he
has "lost his head," we no more expect him to steer a judicious course
than a ship that has lost her rudder. Both are the prey of
circumstances--at the mercy of winds and waves. Therefore, however hard
you are compelled to hit, be sure to keep your temper. Strike in perfect
good-humour, and in the right place. Many people cannot encounter
resistance of any kind without anger, even a difference of opinion in
conversation is sufficient to rouse their bile; but such are seldom
winners in argument or in fight. Let them also leave education alone.
Nature never meant them to teach the young idea how to shoot or hunt, or
do anything else!
It is the cold-blooded and sagacious wrestler who takes the prize, the
calm and imperturbable player who wins the game. In all struggles for
supremacy, excitement only produces flurry, and flurry means defeat.
Who ever saw Mr. Anstruther Thompson in a passion, though, like every
other huntsman and master of hounds, he must often have found his temper
sorely tried? And yet, when punishment is absolutely necessary to extort
obedience from the equine rebel, no man can administer it more severely,
either from the saddle or the box. But whether double-thonging a restive
wheeler, or "having it out" with a resolute buck-jumper, the operation
is performed with the same pleasant smile, and when one of the
adversaries preserves calmness and common sense, the fight is soon over,
and the victory gained.
It is not every man, however, who possesses this gentleman's iron
nerve and powerful frame. For most of us, it is well to remember, before
engaging in such contests, that defeat is absolute ruin. We must be
prepared to fight it out to the bitter end, and if we are not sure of
our own firmness, either mental or physical it is well to temporise, and
try to win by diplomacy the terms we dare not wrest by force. If the
latter alternative must needs be accepted, in this as in most stand-up
fights, it will be found that the first blow is half the battle. The
rider should take his horse short by the head and let him have two or
three stingers with a cutting whip--not more--particularly, if on a
thorough-bred one, as low down the flanks as can be reached,
administered without warning, and in quick succession, sitting back as
prepared for the plunge into the air that will inevitably follow,
keeping his horse's head well-up the while to prevent buck-jumping. He
should then turn the animal round and round half-a-dozen times, till it
is confused, and start it off at speed in any direction where there is
room for a gallop. Blown, startled, and intimidated, he will in all
probability find his pupil perfectly amenable to reason when he pulls
up, and should then coax and soothe him into an equable frame of mind
once more. Such, however, is an extreme case. It is far better to avoid
the _ultima ratio_. In equitation, as in matrimony, there should never
arise "_the first quarrel_." Obedience, in horses, ought to be a matter
of habit, contracted so imperceptibly that its acquirement can scarcely
be called a lesson.
This is why the hunting-field is such a good school for leaping. Horses
of every kind are prompted by some unaccountable impulse to follow a
pack of hounds, and the beginner finds himself voluntarily performing
feats of activity and daring, in accordance with the will of his rider,
which no coercion from the latter would have induced him to attempt.
Flushed with success, and if fortunate enough to escape a fall,
confident in his lately-discovered powers, he finds a new pleasure in
their exercise, and, most precious of qualities in a hunter, grows "fond
of jumping."
The same result is to be attained at home, but is far more gradual,
requiring the exercise of much care, patience, and perseverance.
Nevertheless, when we consider the inconvenience created by the vagaries
of young horses in the hunting field, to hounds, sportsmen, ladies,
pedestrians, and their own riders, we must admit that the Irish system
is best, and that a colt, to use the favourite expression, should have
been trained into "an accomplished lepper," before he is asked to carry
a sportsman through a run.
Mr. Rarey, no doubt, thoroughly understood the nature of the animal
with which he had to deal. His system was but a convenient application
of our principle, viz., Judicious coercion, so employed that the brute
obeys the man without knowing why. When forced to the earth, and
compelled to remain there, apparently by the mere volition of a creature
so much smaller and feebler than itself, it seemed to acknowledge some
mysterious and over-mastering power such as the disciples of Mesmer
profess to exercise on their believers, and this, in truth, is the whole
secret of man's dominion over the beasts of the field. It is founded, to
speak practically, on reason in both, the larger share being apportioned
to the weaker frame. If by terror or resentment, the result of
injudicious severity, that reason becomes obscured in the stronger
animal, we have a maniac to deal with, possessing the strength of ten
human beings, over whom we have lost our only shadow of control! Where
is our supremacy then? It existed but in the imagination of the beast,
for which, so long as it never tried to break the bond, a silken thread
was as strong as an iron chain.
Perhaps this is the theory of all government, but with the conduct and
coercion of mankind we have at present nothing to do.
There is a peculiarity in horses that none who spend much time in the
saddle can have failed to notice. It is the readiness with which all
accommodate themselves to a rider who succeeds in subjugating _one_.
Some men possess a faculty, impossible to explain, of establishing a
good understanding from the moment they place themselves in the saddle.
It can hardly be called hand, for I have seen consummate horsemen,
notably Mr. Lovell, of the New Forest, who have lost an arm; nor seat,
or how could Colonel Fraser, late of the 11th Hussars, be one of the
best heavy-weights over such a country as Meath, with a broken and
contracted thigh? Certainly not nerve, for there are few fields too
scanty to furnish examples of men who possess every quality of
horsemanship except daring. What is it then? I cannot tell, but if you
are fortunate enough to possess it, whether you weigh ten stone or
twenty, you will be able to mount yourself fifty pounds cheaper than
anybody else in the market! Be it an impulse of nature, or a result of
education, there is a tendency in every horse to make vigorous efforts
at the shortest notice in obedience to the inclination of a rider's body
or the pressure of his limbs. Such indications are of the utmost service
in an emergency, and to offer them at the happy moment is a crucial test
of horsemanship. Thus races are "snatched out of the fire," as it is
termed, "by riding," and this is the quality that, where judgment,
patience, and knowledge of pace are equal, renders one jockey superior
to the rest. It enables a proficient also to clear those large fences
that, in our grazing districts especially, appear impracticable to the
uninitiated, as if the horse borrowed muscular energy, no less than
mental courage, from the resolution of his rider. On the racecourse and
in the hunting field, Custance, the well-known jockey, possesses this
quality in the highest degree. The same determined strength in the
saddle, that had done him such good service amongst the bullfinches and
"oxers" of his native Rutland, applied at the happy moment, secured on a
great occasion his celebrated victory with King Lud.
There are two kinds of hunters that require coercion in following
hounds, and he is indeed a master of his art who feels equally at home
on each. The one must be _steered_, the other _smuggled_ over a country.
As he is never comfortable but in front, we will take the rash horse
first.
Let us suppose you have not ridden him before, that you like his
appearance, his action, all his qualities except his boundless ambition,
that you are in a practicable country, as seems only fair, and about to
draw a covert affording every prospect of a run. Before you put your
foot in the stirrup be sure to examine his bit--not one groom in a
hundred knows how to bridle a horse properly--and remember that on the
fitting of this important article depends your success, your enjoyment,
perhaps your safety, during the day. Horses, like servants, will never
let their master be happy if they are uncomfortable themselves. See that
your headstall is long enough, so that the pressure may lie on the bars
of the horse's mouth and not crumple up the corners of his lips, like a
gag. The curb-chain will probably be too tight, also the throat-lash; if
so, loosen both, and with your own hands; it is a pleasant way of making
acquaintance, and may perhaps prepossess him in your favour. If he wears
a nose-band it will be time enough to take it off when you find he shows
impatience of the restriction by shaking his head, changing his leg
frequently, or reaching unjustifiably at the rein.
I am prejudiced against the nose-band. I frankly admit a man in a
minority of one _must_ be wrong, but I never rode a horse in my life
that, to my own feeling, did not go more comfortably when I took it off.
Look also to your girths. For a fractious temper they are very
irritating when drawn too tight, while with good shape and a
breast-plate, there is little danger of their not being tight enough.
When these preliminaries have been carefully gone through mount nimbly
to the saddle, and take the first opportunity of feeling your new
friend's mouth and paces in trot, canter, and gallop. Here, too, though
in general it should be avoided for many reasons, social, agricultural,
and personal, a little "larking" is not wholly inexcusable. It will
promote cordiality between man and beast. The latter, as we are
considering him, is sure to be fond of jumping, and to ride him over a
fence or two away from other horses in cold blood will create in his
mind the very desirable impression that you are of a daring spirit,
determined to be in front.
Take him, however, up to his leap as slow as he will permit--if
possible at a trot. Even should he break into a canter and become
impetuous at last, there is no space for a violent rush in three
strides, during which you must hold him in a firm, equable grasp. As he
leaves the ground give him his head, he cannot have "too much rope,"
till he lands again, when, as soon as possible, you should pull him back
to a trot, handling him delicately, soothing him with voice and gesture,
treating the whole affair as the simplest matter of course. Do not bring
him again over the same place, rather take him on for two or three
fields in a line parallel to the hounds. By the time they are put into
covert you will have established a mutual understanding, and found out
how much you _dislike_ one another at the worst! It is well now to avoid
the crowd, but beware of taking up a position by yourself where you may
head the fox! No man can ride in good-humour under a sense of guilt, and
you _must_ be good-humoured with such a mount as you have under you
to-day.
Exhaust, therefore, all your knowledge of woodcraft to get away on good
terms with the hounds. The wildest romp in a rush of horses is often
perfectly temperate and amenable when called on to cut out the work.
Should you, by ill luck, find yourself behind others in the first field,
avoid, if possible, following any one of them over the first fence. Even
though it be somewhat black and forbidding, choose a fresh place, so
free a horse as yours will jump the more carefully that his attention is
not distracted by a leader, and there is the further consideration,
based on common humanity, that your leader might fall when too late for
you to stop. No man is in so false a position as he who rides over a
friend in the hunting field, except the friend!
Take your own line. If you be not afraid to gallop and the hounds _run
on_, you will probably find it plain sailing till they check. Should a
brook laugh in your face, of no unreasonable dimensions, you may charge
it with confidence, a rash horse usually jumps width, and there will be
plenty of "room to ride" on the far side. It takes but a few feet of
water to decimate a field. I may here observe that, if, as they cross,
you see the hounds leap at it, even though they fall short, you may be
sure the distance from bank to bank is within the compass of a hunter's
stride.
At timber, I would not have you quite so confident. When, as in
Leicestershire, it is set fairly in line with the fence and there is a
good take-off, your horse, however impetuous, may leap it with impunity
in his stroke, but should the ground be poached by cattle, or dip as you
come to it, beware of too great hurry. The feat ought then to be
accomplished calmly and collectedly at a trot, the horse taking his
time, so to speak, from the motions of his rider, and jumping, as it is
called, "to his hand." Now when man and horse are at variance on so
important a matter as pace, the one is almost sure to interfere at the
wrong moment, the other to take off too soon or get too close under his
leap; in either case the animal is more likely to rise at a fence than a
rail, and if unsuccessful in clearing it a binder is less dangerous to
flirt with than a bar. Lord Wilton seems to me to ride at timber a turn
slower than usual, Lord Grey a turn faster. Whether father and son
differ in theory I am unable to say, I can only affirm that both are
undeniable in practice. Mr. Fellowes of Shottisham, perhaps the best of
his day, and Mr. Gilmour, _facile princeps_, almost walk up to this kind
of leap; Colonel, now General Pearson, known for so many seasons as "the
flying Captain," charges it like a squadron of Sikh cavalry; Captain
Arthur Smith pulls back to a trot; Lord Carington scarcely shortens the
stride of his gallop. Who shall decide between such professors? Much
depends on circumstances, more perhaps on horses. Assheton Smith used to
throw the reins on a hunter's neck when rising at a gate, and
say,--"Take care of yourself, you brute!"--whereas the celebrated Lord
Jersey, who gave me this information of his old friend's style, held his
own bridle in a vice at such emergencies, and both usually got safe
over! Perhaps the logical deduction from these conflicting examples
should be not to jump timber at all!
But the rash horse is by this time getting tired, and now, if you would
avoid a casualty, you must temper valour with discretion, and ride him
as skilfully as you _can_.
He has probably carried you well and pleasantly during the few happy
moments that intervened between freshness and fatigue; now he is
beginning to pull again, but in a more set and determined manner than at
first. He does not collect himself so readily, and wants to go faster
than ever at his fences, if you would let him. This careless, rushing
style threatens a downfall, and to counteract it will require the
exercise of your utmost skill. Carry his head for him, since he seems to
require it, and endeavour, by main force if necessary, to bring him to
his leaps with his hind legs under him. Half-beaten horses measure
distance with great accuracy, and "lob" over very large places, when
properly ridden. If, notwithstanding all your precautions, he persists
in going on his shoulders, blundering through his places, and labouring
across ridge and furrow like a boat in a heavy sea, take advantage of
the first lane you find, and voting the run nearly over, make up your
mind to view the rest of it in safety from the hard road!
Ride the same horse again at the first opportunity, and, if sound
enough to come out in his turn, a month's open weather will probably
make him a very pleasant mount.
The "slug," a thorough-bred one, we will say, with capital hind-ribs,
lop ears, and a lazy eye, must be managed on a very different system
from the foregoing. You need not be so particular about his bridle, for
the coercion in this case is of impulsion rather than restraint, but I
would advise you to select a useful cutting-whip, stiff and strong
enough to push a gate. Not that you must use it freely--one or two
"reminders" at the right moment, and an occasional flourish, ought to
carry you through the day. Be sure, too, that you strike underhanded,
and not in front of your own body, lest you take his eye off at the
critical moment when your horse is measuring his leap. The best riders
prefer such an instrument to the spurs, as a stimulant to increased pace
and momentary exertion.
You will have little trouble with this kind of hunter while hounds are
drawing. He will seem only too happy to stand still, and you may sit
amongst your friends in the middle ride, smoking, joking, and holding
forth to your heart's content. But, like the fox, you will find your
troubles begin with the cheering holloa of "Gone away!"
On your present mount, instead of avoiding the crowd, I should advise
you to keep in the very midst of the torrent that, pent up in covert,
rushes down the main ride to choke a narrow handgate, and overflow the
adjoining field. Emerging from the jaws of their inconvenient egress,
they will scatter, like a row of beads when the string breaks, and while
the majority incline to right or left, regardless of the line of chase
as compared with that of safety, some half dozen are sure to single
themselves out, and ride straight after the hounds.
Select one of these, a determined horseman, whom you know to be mounted
on an experienced hunter; give him _plenty of room_--fifty yards at
least--and ride his line, nothing doubting, fence for fence, till your
horse's blood is up, and your own too. I cannot enough insist on a
jealous care of your leader's safety, and a little consideration for his
prejudices. The boldest sportsmen are exceedingly touchy about being
ridden over, and not without reason. There is something unpleasantly
suggestive in the bit, and teeth, and tongue of an open mouth at your
ear; while your own horse, quivering high in air, makes the discovery
that he has not allowed margin enough for the yawner under his nose! It
is little less inexcusable to pick a man's pocket than to ride in it;
and no apology can exonerate so flagrant an assault as to land on him
when down. Reflect, also, that a hunter, after the effort to clear his
fence, often loses foothold, particularly over ridge and furrow, in the
second or third stride, and falls at the very moment a follower would
suppose he was safe over. Therefore, do not begin for yourself till your
leader is twenty yards into the next field when you may harden your
heart, set your muscles, and give your horse to understand, by seat and
manner, that it must be in, through, or over.
Beware, however, of hurrying him off his legs. Ride him resolutely,
indeed, but in a short, contracted stride; slower in proportion to the
unwillingness he betrays, so as to hold him in a vice, and squeeze him
up to the brink of his task, when, forbidden to turn from it, he will
probably make his effort in self-defence, and take you somehow to the
other side. Not one hunter in a hundred can jump in good form when going
at speed; it is the perfection of equine prowess, resulting from great
quickness and the confidence of much experience. An arrant refuser
usually puts on the steam of his own accord, like a confirmed rusher,
and wheels to right or left at the last moment, with an activity that,
displayed in a better cause, would be beyond praise. The rider, too, has
more command of his horse, when forced up to the bit in a slow canter,
than at any other pace.
Thoroughbred horses, until their education is complete, are apt to get
very close to their fences, preferring, as it would seem, to go into
them on this side rather than the other. It is not a style that inspires
confidence; yet these crafty, careful creatures are safer than they
seem, and from jumping in a collected form, with their hind-legs under
them, extricate themselves with surprising address from difficulties
that, after a little more tuition, they will never be in. They are
really less afraid of their fences, and consequently less flurried, than
the wilful, impetuous brute that loses its equanimity from the moment it
catches sight of an obstacle, and miscalculating its distance, in sheer
nervousness--most fatal error of all--takes off too soon.
I will now suppose that in the wake of your pilot you have negotiated
two or three fences with some expenditure of nerve and temper, but
without a refusal or a fall. The cutting-whip has been applied, and the
result, perhaps, was disappointing, for it is an uncertain remedy,
though, in my opinion, preferable to the spur. Your horse has shown
great leaping powers in the distances he has covered without the
momentum of speed, and has doubled an on-and-off with a precision not
excelled by your leader himself. If he would but jump in his stride, you
feel you have a hunter under you. Should the country be favourable, now
is the time to teach him this accomplishment, while his limbs are supple
and his spirit roused. If he seems willing to face them, let him take
his fences in his own way; do not force or hurry him, but keep fast hold
of his head without varying the pressure of hand or limb by a
hairsbreadth; the least uncertainty of finger or inequality of seat will
spoil it all. Should the ditch be towards him, he will jump from a
stand, or nearly so, but, to your surprise, will land safe in the next
field. If it is on the far side, he will show more confidence, and will
perhaps swing over the whole with something of an effort in his canter.
A foot or two of extra width may cause him to drop a hind-leg, or even
bring him on his nose;--so much the better! no admonition of yours would
have proved as effectual a warning--he will take good care to cover
distance enough next time. Dispense with your leader now, if you are
pretty close to the hounds, for your horse is gathering confidence with
every stride. He can gallop, of course, and is good through dirt--it is
also understood that he is fit to go; there are not many in a season,
but let us suppose you have dropped into a run; if he carries you well
to the finish, he will be a hunter from to-day.
After some five and twenty minutes, you will find him going with more
dash and freedom, as his neighbours begin to tire. You may now ride him
at timber without scruple, when not too high, but avoid a rail that
looks as if it would break. To find out he may tamper with such an
obstacle is the most dangerous discovery a hunter can make. You should
send him at it pretty quick, lest he get too near to rise, and refuse at
the last moment. He may not do it in the best of form, but whether he
chances it in his gallop, or bucks over like a deer, or hoists himself
sideways all in a heap, with his tail against your hat, at this kind of
fence this kind of horse is most unlikely to fall.
The same may be said of a brook. If he is within a fair distance of the
hounds, and you see by the expression of his ears and crest that he is
watching them with ardent interest, ride him boldly at water should it
be necessary. It is quite possible he may jump it in his stride from
bank to bank, without a moment's hesitation. It is equally possible he
may stop short on the bank, with lowered head and crouching quarters as
if prepared to drink, or dive, or decline. He will do none of these. Sit
still, give him his head, keep close into your saddle, not moving so
much as an eyelash, and it is more than probable that he will jump the
stream standing, and reach the other side, with a scramble and a
flounder at the worst!
If he should drop his hind-legs, _shoot_ yourself off over his shoulders
in an instant, with a fast hold of the bridle, at which tug hard; even
though you may not have regained your legs. A very slight help now will
enable him to extricate himself, but if he is allowed to subside into
the gulf, it may take a team of cart horses to drag him out.
When in the saddle again give him a timely pull; after the struggle you
will be delighted with each other, and have every prospect of going on
triumphantly to the end.
[Illustration: Page 32.]
I have here endeavoured to describe the different methods of coercion
by which two opposite natures may be induced to exert themselves on our
behalf in the chase. Every horse inclines, more or less, to one or other
extreme I have cited as an example. A perfect hunter has preserved the
good qualities of each without the faults, but how many perfect hunters
do any of us ride in our lives? The chestnut is as fast as the wind,
stout and honest, a safe and gallant fencer, but too light a mouth makes
him difficult to handle at blind and cramped places; the bay can leap
like a deer, and climb like a goat, invincible at doubles, and
unrivalled at rails, but, as bold Lord Cardigan said of an equally
accomplished animal, "it takes him a long time to get from one bit of
timber to another!" While the brown, even faster than the chestnut, even
safer than the bay, would be the best, as he is the pleasantest hunter
in the world--only nothing will induce him to go near a brook!
It is only by exertion of a skill that is the embodiment of thought in
action, by application of a science founded on reason, experience and
analogy, that we can approach perfection in our noble four-footed
friend. Common-sense will do much, kindness more, coercion very little,
yet we are not to forget that man is the master; that the hand, however
light, must be strong, the heel, however lively, must be resolute; and
that when persuasion, best of all inducements, seems to fail, we must
not shrink from the timely application of force.