There is now no branch of outdoor education of greater importance than
that of an ability to “handle the ribbons.” Not a man or woman but
would be ashamed to say that they were incompetent, if in fair health
and strength, to pilot their own carriage. And yet, though so large a
proportion of society can boast a smattering of the science, there is
no pursuit in which perfection is proportionately so rarely attained.
The first requisite for a tyro is to learn to sit well, and so to
acquire the proper scope for his own power over his horse.
The seat should be above, or at least on a level, with the horses’
heads, not below them; and it should, moreover, be so placed that the
driver can use his legs and feet to restrain the pull of the horses if
necessary, and that can not be done if the reins pull down over the
splash-board into the driver’s lap.
Though most tyros begin their essay with a horse in a single harness,
yet in a general way it is easier and safer to drive a pair than one.
If the single horse is perfect in manners, all that has to be learned
is to keep him straight, and to direct him without collision. But if a
horse has faults he is safer with a companion; though if the two have
coincident faults, or could confabulate mischief together, they would
be more dangerous than a single animal, yet it is in practice long
chances against the two both doing wrong simultaneously. Each is a
check on his fellow: the one may not want to bolt when the other does,
or if one falls the other will probably keep his legs.
The tyro should take his seat uprightly and squarely, plant his feet
well in front of him, grasp his reins firmly, and let his left arm
play lightly from the _shoulder_ (not the elbow), his elbows both well
squared. Nothing looks so slovenly, or entails such waste of necessary
power, as a slouching back, and hands sunk in the lap.
The whip should not always be used because it is handy; it is wanted
to make a horse take hold of his collar if he shirks, and to feel his
bit if he hangs back when there is difficulty in navigation. Unless he
runs up to his bit there is little or no communication between him and
his driver. The whip should be used from the wrist, not from the arm;
a lash delivered from the shoulder is far less effective and much more
ugly than a stroke from the wrist. A good fly-fisher never makes a bad
whip in this respect.
Let the beginner commence by casting an eye over his harness; at first,
rather that he may learn by inspection the place for everything and
that everything is in its place; but later, when he has passed his
apprenticeship, he should still do the same, and this time with a
master’s eye, to see that nothing is wanting before he mounts to his
seat. Let him note that the breeching, if in single harness, is neither
so loose as to be useless, nor so tight as to hamper the action of the
horse and to rub the hair off. Let him see that the rein is on the
proper bar of the bit; else, if the horse has been accustomed to be
driven from one bar, and his bitting is suddenly altered, his manners
will probably change at the same time. If he is driving double harness,
let him note the length of his traces, and see that his horses are
properly “poled up,” else the carriage will overrun them down hill.
Having cast a careful glance round his harness, the driver will then
proceed to mount.
Let him take the reins in his hand before he mounts the box, then, when
seated, let the “near” or left hand rein pass between the forefinger
and thumb, the “off” or right-hand rein between the fore and middle
fingers—palm of the hand uppermost. Then let the grasp of all the
fingers close tightly on the loop of the rein, which should pass out
under the remaining fingers. Though the grasp should be tight the
touch should be light; let not the exercise of the muscles of grip
confuse the driver into adding to this a tug from his shoulder upon
his horse’s mouth. However light a horse’s mouth is, or supposing he
is a slug, that does not take his collar and run up to his bit, still
the driver should always _feel_ the mouth, else he has no control
over him in sudden emergency if the reins are hanging loosely. There
is more danger in driving a sluggish or dead-mouthed horse in a crowd
than a free goer. The latter runs up to his bit at once, and so feels
your orders; the slug does not feel, and may interpret a touch of the
reins to direct him into an order to stop in the teeth of a Pickford’s
van, or on a level railway crossing in sight of an express. Whipcord
must keep a slug to his collar, and so to his bit, or the absence of
constant communication between his mouth and his driver’s hand may lead
to collisions.
And now in the seat, and the grasp of the reins first secured, let
the tyro make a start; not in a hurry, not with an instant dose of
whipcord—a word of encouragement to his horse should suffice at first.
Let him learn to allow free room for his own wheels in turning corners
or passing obstacles: he has got two things to provide for, his vehicle
as well as the horse. Better give a wide margin at first than collide;
though before long his eye will guide him, and he need not then make
himself conspicuous as a greenhorn by giving too wide berths at corners
and rencontres. Go steadily round a corner; remember there is such a
thing as centrifugal force; and a two-wheel vehicle, high hung, may
easily be upset to the outside by a hasty whisk round a sharp corner,
even without the help of a bank to lift the inner wheel.
Then, as to the rule of the road. If he meets anything coming the
opposite way, he must take it on his right hand; if he overtakes it, on
his left; if he is overtaken he must keep to the left, and be passed on
the right.
“The role of the road is a paradox quite,
For if you go right you go wrong, and if you go left you go right.”
Down hill he should progress carefully, especially when on two wheels,
for then the extra weight of the cart hangs on the pad or saddle on
the horse’s back. A stumble and fall will probably break the shafts,
certainly cut the horse’s knees, and may pitch the occupant over
the splash-board. Let him hold well in, sit well back, play firmly
and lightly with his hand, ready to hold up sharply in event of a
stumble. Even a sure-footed horse may make a false step from the pain
of a loose, sharp-pointed bit of stone cutting his frog. A judicious
and timely support from the rein may save the horse and preserve his
balance, by thus suddenly shifting part of the weight of his head and
neck on to the carriage itself.
Next to a powerful seat, the mouth of the horse and the lightness of
the hand upon it are the requisites. “Half the value of a horse is in
his mouth” is an old maxim. Few owners are aware how much “manners”
depend upon the bitting and handling of a horse. Shifting the rein from
one bar to another makes all the difference in the going of the horse.
The mouth is the link of communication between him and his driver; the
bit must control him without fretting him, and the touch of the hand,
unless light, deadens its own injunctions.
As the whip progresses in his craft, he will note many other minor
details, apart from mere safety, which conduce to the welfare of
his horse and carriage also. Though he is bound by rules of road at
rencontre, he may choose his own path when all is clear; he need not
take his share of rolling into shape newly-laid stones, if a smoother
passage presents itself. Even if he can not altogether avoid stones,
he may yet ease the draught if he can manœuvre only one wheel on to a
smooth surface.—Cassell’s _Sports and Pastimes_.