THE ABUSE OF THE SPUR.
"You may ride us,
With one soft kiss, a thousand furlongs, ere
With spurs we heat an acre."
Says Hermione, and indeed that gentle lady's illustration equally
applies to an inferior order of beings, from which also man derives much
comfort and delight. It will admit of discussion whether the "armed
heel," with all its terrors, has not, on the race-course at least, lost
more triumphs than it has won.
I have been told that Fordham, who seems to be first past the judges'
chair oftener than any jockey of the day, wholly repudiates "the
tormentors," arguing that they only make a horse shorten his stride, and
"shut up," to use an expressive term, instead of struggling gallantly
home. Judging by analogy, it is easy to conceive that such may be the
case. The tendency of the human frame seems certainly to contract rather
than expand its muscles, with instinctive repugnance at the stab of a
sharp instrument, or even the puncture of a thorn. It is not while
receiving punishment but administering it that the prize-fighter opens
his shoulders and lets out. There is no doubt that many horses,
thoroughbred ones especially, will stop suddenly, even in their gallop,
and resent by kicking an indiscreet application of the spurs. A
determined rider who keeps them screwed in the animal's flanks
eventually gains the victory. But such triumphs of severity and main
force are the last resource of an authority that ought never to be
disputed, as springing less from fear than confidence and good-will.
It cannot be denied that there are many fools in the world, yet,
regarding matters of opinion, the majority are generally right. A
top-boot has an unfinished look without its appendage of shining steel;
and, although some sportmen assure us they dispense with rowels, it is
rare to find one so indifferent to appearances as not to wear spurs.
There must be some good reason for this general adoption of an
instrument that, from the days of chivalry, has been the very stamp and
badge of a superiority which the man on horseback assumes over the man
on foot. Let us weigh the arguments for and against this emblem of
knighthood before we decide. In the riding-school, and particularly for
military purposes, when the dragoon's right hand is required for his
weapon, these aids, as they are called, seem to enhance that pressure of
the leg which acts on the horse's quarters, as the rein on his forehand,
bringing his whole body into the required position. Perhaps if the boot
were totally unarmed much time might be lost in making his pupil
understand the horseman's wishes, but any one who has ridden a perfectly
trained charger knows how much more accurately it answers to the leg
than the heel, and how awkwardly a horse acquits himself that has been
broke in very sharp spurs; every touch causing it to wince and swerve
too far in the required direction, glancing off at a tangent, like a
boat that is over ready in answering her helm. Patience and a light
switch, I believe, would fulfil all the purposes of the spur, even in
the _manege_; but delay is doubtless a drawback, and there are reasons
for going the shortest way on occasion, even if it be not the smoothest
and the best.
It is quite unnecessary, however, and even prejudicial, to have the
rowels long and sharp. Nothing impedes tuition like fear; and fear in
the animal creation is the offspring of pain.
Granted, then, that the spur may be applied advantageously in the
school, let us see how far it is useful on the road or in the
hunting-field.
We will start by supposing that you do not possess a really perfect
hack; that desirable animal must, doubtless, exist somewhere, but, like
Pegasus, is more often talked of than seen. Nevertheless, the roadster
that carries you to business or pleasure is a sound, active, useful
beast, with safe, quick action, good shoulders, of course, and a willing
disposition, particularly when turned towards home. How often in a week
do you touch it with the spurs? Once, perhaps, by some bridle-gate,
craftily hung at precisely the angle which prevents your reaching its
latch or hasp. And what is the result of this little display of
vexation? Your hack gets flurried, sticks his nose in the air, refuses
to back, and compels you at last to open the gate with your wrong hand,
rubbing your knee against the post as he pushes through in unseemly
haste, for fear of another prod. When late for dinner, or hurrying home
to outstrip the coming shower, you may fondly imagine that but for "the
persuaders" you would have been drenched to the skin; and, relating your
adventures at the fire-side, will probably declare that "you stuck the
spurs into him the last mile, and came along as hard as he could drive."
But, if you were to visit him in the stable, you would probably find his
flanks untouched, and would, I am sure, be pleased rather than
disappointed at the discovery. Happily, not one man in ten knows _how_
to spur a horse, and the tenth is often the most unwilling to administer
so severe a punishment.
Ladies, however, are not so merciful. Perhaps because they have but one,
they use this stimulant liberally, and without compunction. From their
seat, and shortness of stirrup, every kick tells home. Concealed under a
riding-habit, these vigorous applications are unsuspected by lookers-on;
and the unwary wonder why, in the streets of London or the Park, a
ladies' horse always appears to go in a lighter and livelier form than
that of her male companion. "It's a woman's hand," says the admiring
pedestrian. "Not a bit of it," answers the cynic who knows; "it's a
woman's heel."
But, however sparing you may be of the spurs in lane or bridle-road,
you are tempted to ply them far too freely in the anxiety and excitement
of the hunting-field. Have you ever noticed the appearance of a white
horse at the conclusion of some merry gallop over a strongly fenced
country? The pure conspicuous colour tells sad tales, and the smooth,
thin-skinned flanks are too often stained and plastered with red. Many
bad horsemen spur their horses without meaning it; many worse, mean to
spur their horses at every fence, and _do_.
A Leicestershire notability, of the last generation once dubbed a rival
with the expressive title of "a hard funker;" and the term, so happily
applied, fully rendered what he meant. Of all riders "the hard funker"
is the most unmerciful to his beast; at every turn he uses his spurs
cruelly, not because he is _hard_, but because he _funks_. Let us watch
him crossing a country, observing his style as a warning rather than an
example.
Hesitation and hurry are his principal faults, practised, with much
impartiality, in alternate extremes. Though half-way across a field, he
is still undecided where to get out. This vacillation communicates
itself in electric sympathy to his horse, and both go wavering down to
their fence, without the slightest idea what they mean to do when they
arrive. Some ten strides off the rider makes up his mind, selecting,
probably, an extremely awkward place, for no courage is so desperate as
that which is founded on fear. Want of determination is now supplemented
by excessive haste and, with incessant application of the spurs, his
poor horse is hurried wildly at the leap. That it gets over without
falling, as happens oftener than might be supposed, seems due to
activity in the animal rather than sagacity in the rider, and a strong
instinct of self-preservation in both; but such a process, repeated
again and again during a gallop, even of twenty minutes, tells fearfully
on wind and muscle, nor have many hunters sufficient powers of endurance
to carry these exacting performers through a run.
Still the "h. f." would be nothing without his spurs, and I grant that
to him these instruments are indispensable, if he is to get from one
field to another; but of what use are they to such men as Mr. Gilmour,
Captain Coventry, Sir Frederic Johnston, Captain Boyce, Mr. Hugh
Lowther, and a host more that I could name, who seem to glide over
Leicestershire, and other strongly-fenced countries, as a bird glides
through the air. Day after day, unless accidentally scored in a fall,
you may look in vain for a spur-mark on their horses sides. Shoulders
and quarters, indeed, are reddened by gashes from a hundred thorns; but
the virgin spot, a handsbreadth behind the girths, is pure and stainless
still. Yet not one of the gentlemen I have named will ride without the
instrument he uses so rarely, if at all; and they must cherish,
therefore, some belief in its virtue, when called into play, strong
enough to counterbalance its indisputable disadvantages--notably, the
stabbing of a hunter's side, when its rider's foot is turned outwards by
a stake or grower, and the tearing of its back or quarters in the
struggle and confusion of a fall. There is one excellent reason that,
perhaps, I may have overlooked. It is tiresome to answer the same
question over and over again, and in a field of 200 sportsmen you are
sure to be asked almost as many times, "Why don't you wear spurs?" if
you set appearances at defiance by coming into the hunting-field without
them.
In my personal recollection I can only call to mind one man who
systematically abjured so essential a finish to the horseman's dress and
equipment. This was Mr. Tomline of Leigh Lodge, a Leicestershire farmer
and horse-dealer, well-known some thirty years ago as one of the finest
riders and straightest goers that ever got into a saddle. His costume,
indeed, was not of so careful a nature that want of completeness in any
one particular could spoil the general effect. He _always_ hunted in a
rusty, worn pilot-jacket, drab breeches with strings untied,
brown-topped boots, and a large ill-fitting hat, carrying in his hand a
ground-ash plant, totally useless for opening a gate if he did not
happen to jump it. Yet thus accoutred, and generally on a young one, so
long as his horse's condition lasted, he was sure to be in front, and,
when the fences were rougher than common, with but two or three
companions at most.
I have not yet forgotten the style in which I once saw him coax a
four-year-old to jump a "bottom" under Launde, fortified by a high post
and rail--down-hill--a bad take off--and almost a ravine on the far
side! With his powerful grip and exquisite handling, he seemed to
persuade the pupil that it was as willing as the master.
My own spurs were four inches long, and I was riding the best hunter in
my stable, but I don't think I would have had the same place for fifty
pounds!
A paradox, like an Irishman's bull, will sometimes convey our meaning
more impressively than a logical statement. It seems paradoxical, yet I
believe it is sound sense to say that no man should arm his heels with
spurs unless he is so good a rider as to be sure they shall not touch
his horse. To punish him with them involuntarily is, of course, like any
other blunder totally inadmissible, but when applied with intention,
they should be used sparingly and only as a last resource. That there
_are_ occasions on which they rouse a horse's energies for a momentary
effort, I am disposed to admit less from my own experience than the
opinion of those for whose practical knowledge in all such matters I
have the greatest respect. Both the Messrs. Coventry, in common with
other first-rate steeple-chase riders, advocate their use on rare
occasions and under peculiar circumstances. Poor Jem Mason never went
hunting without them, and would not, I think, have hesitated to apply
them pretty freely if required, but then these could all spur their
horses in the right place, leaning back the while and altering in no way
the force and bearing of hand or seat. Most men, on the contrary, stoop
forward and let their horses' heads go when engaged in this method of
compulsion, and even if their heels _do_ reach the mark, by no means a
certainty, gain but little with the rowels compared to all they lose
with the reins.
There is no fault in a hunter so annoying to a man whose heart is in
the sport as a tendency _to refuse_. It utterly defeats the timid and
damps the courage of the bold, while even to him who _rides_ that he may
hunt rather than _hunts_ that he may _ride_, it is intensely provoking,
as he is apt to lose by it that start which is so invaluable in a quick
thing, and, when a large field are all struggling for the same object,
so difficult to regain. This perversity of disposition too, is very apt
to be displayed at some fence that will not admit of half-measures, such
as a rail low enough to jump, but too strong to break, or a ditch so
wide and deep that it must not be attempted as a standing leap. In these
cases a vigorous dig with the spurs at the last moment will sometimes
have an excellent effect. But it must not be trusted as an unfailing
remedy. Nearly as many hunters will resent so broad a hint, by stopping
short, and turning restive, as will spring generously forward, and make
a sudden effort in answer to the appeal. For this, as for every other
requirement of equitation, much depends on an insight into his
character, whom an enthusiastic friend of mine designates "the bolder
and wiser animal of the two."
Few men go out hunting with the expectation of encountering more than
one or two falls in the best of runs, although the score sometimes
increases very rapidly, when a good and gallant horse is getting tired
towards the finish. Twenty "croppers" in a season, if he is
well-mounted, seems a high average for the most determined of bruisers,
but a man, whom circumstances impel to ride whatever he can lay hands
on, must take into consideration how he can best rise from the ground
unhurt with no less forethought than he asks his way to the meet or
inquires into the condition of his mount. To such a bold rider the spur
may seem an indispensable article, but he must remember that even if its
application should save him on occasion, which I am not altogether
prepared to admit, the appendage itself is most inconvenient when down.
I cannot remember a single instance of a man's foot remaining fixed in
the stirrup who was riding without spurs. I do not mean to say such a
catastrophe is impossible, but I have good reason to know that the
buckle on the instep, which when brightly polished imparts such a finish
to the lustrous wrinkles of a well-made boot, is extremely apt to catch
in the angle of the stirrup iron, and hold us fast at the very moment
when it is most important to our safety we should be free.
I have headed this chapter "The Abuse of the Spur," because I hold
that implement of horsemanship to be in general most unmercifully
abused, so much so that I believe it would be far better for the
majority of horses, and riders too, if it had never come into vogue. The
perfect equestrian may be trusted indeed with rowels sharp and long as
those that jingle at the Mexican's heels on his boundless prairies, but,
as in the days of chivalry, these ornaments should be won by prowess to
be worn with honour; and I firmly believe that nine out of every ten men
who come out hunting would be better and more safely carried if they
left their spurs at home.