Читать книгу The Horse and His Rider - Francis Bond Sir Head - Страница 6

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The best position of a man on horseback is, of course, that which is most agreeable to both animals, and which, from its ease and flexibility, as they skim together over the surface of the earth, apparently combines them into one.

Like everything in Nature, the variety of seats is infinite. They may, however, generically be divided into two classes:

1. In the great plains of South America, in which it may truly be stated that for every male inhabitant above five or six years of age Nature maintains at no cost, no tax, and at no trouble to him, a stud of horses whose number is legion, the rider sits almost perpendicularly, with the great toe of each foot resting very lightly on, and often merely touching its small triangular stirrup, his legs grasping the horse's sides slightly or tightly, as prosperous or adverse circumstances may require.

In this attitude, which may be said to be that of standing astride over rather than sitting upon the saddle, the pivot upon which the rider, gracefully bending his body with a ball and socket movement, turns—in throwing his lasso, in thrusting his lance forwards on either side, or in looking behind him—is what is termed by sporting men his "fork."

In the few instances where pistols are carried, they are affixed behind the right thigh, firstly, that in the common occurrence of the horse falling in his gallop, they may not prevent the rider from rolling clear away from him; and, secondly, because in that position the weapons are close to the rider's right hand, which, as he flies along, is to be seen always dangling just above the but ends, ready to grasp them the instant they are required.

This attitude is not only highly picturesque, but particularly easy to the rider, who, while partaking of the undulating motion of his horse, can rest his wearied body by slight imperceptible changes of position on the pivot or "fork," on which, like corn waving in the wind, it bends.

The British cavalry sit astride above their saddles very nearly in this attitude, which, as we have just explained, enables them with great facility to cut, or give point in front, right or left, at cavalry or at infantry; and if they were not embarrassed by their clothing, as well as by their accoutrements, and if, as in the region to which we have alluded, they were to use no pace but the gallop, each would soon become, or rather he could not help apparently becoming, part and parcel of his horse. But our gallant men, although they have been subjected to innumerable experimental changes of dress, &c., continue not only hampered and imperilled by a hard cloak, holsters, and carbine affixed in front of their thighs, and imprisoned, especially round their necks, within tight clothing, but their travelling pace, the trot (a jolting movement unknown and unheard of in the plains of South America), gives to their body and limbs a rigidity painful to look at, and in long journeys wearisome to man and horse. Indeed in the French cavalry, and occasionally in our own, the manner in which the soldier, in not a bad attitude, is seen hopping high into the air, on and off his saddle, as his horse, at apparently a different rate, trots beneath him, forms as ridiculous a caricature of the art of riding as the pencil of our Punch's "Leech" could possibly delineate.

2. Throughout the United Kingdom, civilians of all classes, gentlemen, farmers, and yeomen, especially those who occasionally follow the hounds, adopt what is commonly called "the hunting seat," in which, instead of "the fork," the knees form the pivot, or rather hinge, the legs beneath them the grasp, while the thighs, like the pastern of a horse, enable the body above to rise and fall as lightly as a carriage on its springs.

In this attitude the rider cannot turn his body to the right or left, or look behind him as easily as he could revolve upon his "fork."

For rough riding, however, of every description, the hunting seat, though infinitely less graceful, is superior to that of the cavalry of Europe, for the following reasons:—

One of the most usual devices by which a horse endeavours to, and but too often succeeds in dislodging his rider, is by giving to his back, by a sudden kick, a jerk upwards, which, of course, forces in the same direction towards the sky that nameless portion of humanity which was partly resting on it, and which in the cavalry cannot possibly get very far away from it.

But, in the hunting seat, the instant the rider expects such a kick, by merely rising in his stirrups he at once raises or abstracts from the saddle the point his enemy intends to attack, and accordingly the blow aimed at it fails to reach it.

Again, on approaching a large fence, by the same simple precaution, the rider entirely avoids the concussion of that sudden jerk or effort necessary to enable the horse to clear it. In a fall, the pommel of the saddle and the horse's neck and head are much easier cleared by short stirrup-leathers than by long ones. Lastly, in a common trot, the former soften the jolt, which the latter cannot easily avoid. In short, in a hunting seat, the rider, to his great comfort and relief, rests more or less on his saddle as long as he likes, and yet, the instant he anticipates a blow from it, leaves it, without metaphor ... behind him.

Of horsemanship it may truly be said, that about four-fifths of the art depend on attaining a just seat, and one-fifth on possessing a pair of light hands.[B] But although the attainment of these advantages is not incompatible with an easy, erect position on horseback, the generality of riders are but too apt to sit on their horses in the bent attitude of the last paroxysm or exertion which helped them into the saddle. Now, when a man in this toad-like position rides along—say a macadamized road—he travels always ready, at a moment's notice, to proceed by himself in the direction in which he is pointing, in case the progress of his horse should be suddenly stopped by his falling down. Indeed, when a horse, without falling down, recovers by a violent struggle from a bad trip, a heavy rider in this attitude (called by Sir Bellingham Graham "a wash-ball seat") is very liable to shoot forwards over his head in a parabolic curve, ending in a concussion of his brain or in the dislocation of his neck,—the horse standing by his motionless body perfectly uninjured.

On the other hand, when a man sits upright, justly balanced on his saddle, any sudden jerk or movement forwards throws his shoulders backwards. If therefore, while proceeding in that position, the horse thinks proper to fall, the animal in the first instance is the sole sufferer. He cuts his forehead, hurts his nose, breaks his knees, bruises his chest, while his head, neck, fore-legs, and the forepart of his body, forced into each other like the joints of a telescope, form a buffer, preventing the concussion the horse has received, from injuring, in the smallest degree, the rider, or even the watch in his pocket, which, without being ejected from the saddle, goes ticking, ticking, ticking on, just as merrily as if nothing had happened. If he only trips, a rider poised justly in his saddle can easily recover him.

A horse will not only refrain from treading upon any creature lying on the ground, but in hunting he will make the utmost possible effort to avoid putting a foot upon his master whenever

"On the bare earth exposed he lies."

If, however, his owner, from a bad seat or from false precaution, has suddenly thrown himself from his back, it is often impossible for the animal, while struggling to recover from a desperate trip, to avoid either trampling upon or violently striking him.

For this reason a rider should never abandon his saddle so long as his horse beneath it has a leg, or an infinitesimal part of one, to stand on. But so soon as his downfall is announced by that heavy, thundering concussion against the ground, the meaning of which it is impossible to mistake, the partnership should instantaneously be dissolved by the horseman rolling, if possible, out of harm's way.

But it occasionally happens not only that the horse rolls too, but that the larger roller overtakes the smaller one, the two lying prostrate, with the legs in boots under the body whose limbs wear only shoes.

If the rider happens fortunately to have the saddle between him and the horse, his legs merely sustain a heavy weight, from which they are harmlessly extricated the instant the animal rises.

Should he happen unfortunately to have the girths between him and the horse, he lies, like Ariel in the cloven pine, "painfully imprisoned," in a predicament of which it is impossible for any one to foretell the results.

As the quadruped is always more or less cowed by his fall, he remains usually for about a minute or two as still as if he were dead.

All of a sudden, however, just as if a bayonet had been run into him, he struggles to rise.

To do so it is necessary that all his feet should take hold of the ground. This they are prevented from doing by the rider's boots, which, operating as a handspike under the body, keep it in a horizontal position, thereby causing the four legs, like two pairs of blacksmith's sledge-hammers, to continue to strike heavily towards each other.

Between them lies, acting in this little tragedy the part of Anvil, the poor rider, who can only avoid the hard blows of two fore iron shoes, by wincing from them to within the reach of two hind ones.

This violent struggle eventually ends by the horse rising, leaving on the field of battle, slightly, seriously, or desperately wounded, his master, whom he never intended to hurt.

In the hunting field, the bent position in the saddle produces equally unpleasant results. On man and horse coming cheerily to a fence, with what mathematicians call "an unknown quantity" on the other side, if the rider sits justly on his saddle, it is the horse and not he that receives the concussion of any fall that may ensue, simply because the spring of his animal in taking the leap had thrown his shoulders backwards, and consequently his head out of danger; whereas the nose of the gentleman who had been riding alongside of him in the bent attitude of a note of interrogation, is seen to plough into its mother earth the instant the muzzle of his horse impinges upon it.

For exactly the same reasons, in every description of fall (and no volume would be large enough to contain them all), similar results occur; and yet there is no predicament in which "Toady" appears to greater disadvantage, and so keenly feels it, than when, in following the hounds, he has to descend a very precipitous and rather slippery grass hill.

If a horse be but properly dealt with, he can gallop down a turf hill with nearly as much rapidity as along a race-course. A tea-table would stand ill at ease on the declivity, because its limbs are immoveable; but a quadruped, by throwing all his legs forwards and his body backwards, has the power to adjust himself, with mathematical precision, to almost any descent.

To insure his safety, however, it is essential that he should be encouraged, by a loose rein, to carry his head as low as possible, to enable him to take care of his feet, and in case of treading on a rolling-stone to recover his balance by throwing it up. Now, when in this position, if the rider, following the instinct and the example of the horse, throws his weight backwards—in fact, if from the saddle the backs of the two animals are separated from each other by only a very small angle, both can descend the hill together at considerable speed without the smallest danger. The only embarrassment the rider has to contend against is an over-caution on the part of the horse, amounting to fear, which induces him to try to take the slope diagonally, very likely to result in the poor animal slipping up on his side. In keeping his head straight, however, care must be taken not to induce him to raise it up; and when this little difficulty is overcome, no other of any sort or kind remains to impede a safe and rapid descent.

Seated on his saddle, in the attitude we have described, that admirable rider Jack Shirley, whipper-in to the Tedworth hunt, with a large open clasp-knife in his mouth, was one day observed fixing a piece of whipcord to his lash, while following his hounds at a slapping pace, down hill, his reins lying nearly loose on old "Gadsby's" neck.

On the other hand when a gentleman, however fearless he may be, sitting at an angle of 45°, like a 13-inch mortar on its bed, attempts to ride down the steep declivity described, the afflictions that befall him are really piteous, for the instant his horse's fore legs sink considerably lower than the hind ones, he feels that unless he holds on very tightly, he must inevitably pitch over the bows of the vessel that is carrying him. To maintain his equilibrium he therefore pulls a little at his curb-bit, which not only raises his horse's head till it nearly touches his nose, but throws the animal and the weight he carries into such a false position, that it becomes difficult and dangerous to advance. The restrained quadruped, impatient to follow the horses before him, yet altogether out of gear, on every little twitch at his bridle keeps chucking up his head, until the rider, who a moment ago expected to fall over his ears, now feels that he is going to glide backwards over his tail, which is nearly touching the hill. In short, the poor horse is resting on his hocks instead of his hoofs, with his fore feet barely touching the ground.

When a lot of riders find themselves in this hopeless attitude, they generally, according to their amount of activity, crawl, jump, or vault from their saddles to descend on foot, which they soon find very little improves their case, for the heels of their boots not being, like horse-shoes, concave, take insufficient hold of the turf; and thus while they are slipping, sliding, and tottering in the descent, each linked to a quadruped that is bothering him to death, if, feeling a little alarmed, they resolve to stop for a moment or two, their impatient horses, unable to advance and unwilling to stand still, often compromise the matter by running round their masters, with the chance of rolling them, like ninepins, down the hill.

In galloping for many hours, and especially for many days, as soon as the muscles of the rider, by getting tired, lose their obstinacy, it becomes impossible for him, if he sits upright, to prevent his body undulating, to the infinite relief of both parties, with every movement of the horse; whereas, if, like an English jockey, whose seat is well adapted for galloping at the utmost speed for a few minutes, he rides like a frog on a shovel, he inflicts upon his whole frame, as well as upon the poor animal that carries him, an amount of unnecessary fatigue which prematurely tires both.

For the foregoing reasons if gentlemen sportsmen who occupy on the road and the hunting-field this false position, would but allow Mr. Calcraft, in his peculiar way, to lift them about half a dozen times a few inches into the air, and then, as a tallow-chandler dips his candles, lower them gently, easily, and perpendicularly to their saddles, they would find themselves promoted in the world to a seat on horseback which they would never wish to abandon.

As, however, our readers, we fear, must have become very tired of the saddle, we will now relieve them from hogskin, to submit to them a very few practical observations on the management of the bridle, the ordinary uses of which, as everybody knows, are twofold, namely, first to guide a horse, and secondly to restrain, or, when requisite, to stop him.

As it is the disposition of a horse, when mounted, to go fast, and as it is the disposition of a man to pull at any thing in this world as little as possible, curb-bits and curb-chains (as their names truly denote) have been invented, by which the animal in all his movements on parade or on the road is slightly thrown on his haunches, with his head raised more or less above its natural level. In this position his eyes are of course proportionally elevated, and as there exists no obstruction on the macadamized roads, &c., on which he travels, he soon ceases to look downwards; and although, if he then happens to pass over a little hole, he may put a foot into it, or may slightly blunder over half a shovelfull of loose stones which had escaped his observation, yet, if he has good action, and a tolerable rider, he earns the character of being a "capital hack."

Now to metamorphose "a hack" into "a hunter" is principally effected by the bridle, and yet the great difficulty of the art is to learn not how much, but how little to use it; in short, a considerable portion of what the bridle has done has to be undone. Accordingly, instead of being encouraged to travel on his haunches with his fore legs lightly touching the ground, the latter must be required to bear the greater portion of the burden, which it is the duty of the hind legs to propel. The head has to be brought down to its proper level; and to induce or rather to oblige the horse to make his eyes the lantern of his feet, to study geology instead of astronomy, he should be slowly ridden, with a loose rein, over every little hole, grip, or heap that would be likely to throw a hack down. Whenever he can be made to stumble (if the rider feels that he will not actually fall), the reins should instantly be dropped. In like manner he should be walked for several days over the roughest ground that can be found, particularly land that has been excavated to obtain the substratum and left in holes. With a perfectly loose rein he should be gently trotted, gently cantered, and gently galloped over a surface of this description, the rider always dropping the rein when he blunders. Vegetius, in describing the horsemanship of the Parthians in the time of Xerxes, states that in order to make their horses sure-footed over rough, broken ground, they placed on a space of level ground a number of wooden troughs of different heights, filled with earth, over which in galloping they had many falls.

Under similar treatment, the strength, activity, intelligence, and eyesight of the animal will, as in a wild state, cordially be combined by him to protect himself from the degradation as well as punishment of falling; and so ample and sufficient are these powers, that the rider will soon find, that instead of having to hold his horse up, it has become out of his power to throw him down. In fact, under the guidance of nature, rather than of man, "the hack" in a very short period, and without going over a fence of any sort or kind, may thus be made competent to follow hounds across any country in the United Kingdom; while, on the other hand, the nag that had only been taught in a riding-school or in a dealer's yard to jump neatly over bars, gates, and hurdles, would, most particularly to the neck of his rider, prove to be infinitely worse than useless.

Of course a horse is not a perfect hunter until he has had a small amount (for he does not require much) of experience in leaping; but as, with the exception of water, every horse is able, willing, and eager to jump, generally speaking, more than is desired, his rider has merely to teach the noble animal beneath him to add to his valour just enough discretion to induce him to look, not before, but while he leaps.

A hunter when following hounds is so excited, that if, in addition to his own eagerness, he be hurried at his fences, he rushes more and more recklessly at them, until he gets into needless trouble. On the other hand, just as he approaches every fence, if he be always patted on the neck, and gently restrained, he feels satisfied that he is to be allowed to do the job; and accordingly, curtailing his stride as he approaches, he does it not only cleverly, but without any waste of exertion, which, to use a common hunting-field expression, "he may want before the day's over."

When a horse is enabled, like a soldier whose stiff stock has just been unbuckled, to drop his head to its natural position, he not only goes safely, but, without risk of cutting his fetlocks, he can gallop over ground deeply covered with loose impediments of any description; and, accordingly, in Surrey it has long been a hunting axiom that it is the curb bridles which by throwing hunters on their haunches in a false position cause them to cut their back sinews with those sharp flints which, in a snaffle bit, they can clatter over without injury. A good Northamptonshire rider, in lately taking a fence, jumped over it into a stone quarry. Now, if he had been in the bent attitude we have described, he must inevitably have pitched on, and have fractured his skull. From, however, sitting correctly on his saddle, his ankles, and not his head, suffered.

In like manner when Mehemet Ali, under the pretence of investing his son, Toossoon Pacha, with the command of an army, by a treacherous invitation inveigled the Mamelukes into the summit of the citadel of El Kahira (the Victorious), commonly called Cairo, and then suddenly dropping the portcullis, directed upon them from barred windows on three sides a murderous fire, Amyn Bey, rather than submit to such a death, spurring his Arab charger over his writhing comrades, and across the low crenated wall, jumped over a precipice of about fifty feet; and yet, although of the horse it may truly be said that

"Headlong from the mountain's height

He plunged to endless night,"

for, on reaching the hard rock, he was smashed to death, the rider, who, no doubt, had expected the same fate, was enabled, with only a broken ankle, to crawl away, recover, and for nearly thirty years enjoy, with health and wealth, the well-earned appellation of "the last of the Mamelukes;" in short

"The man recovered from the blow, the horse it was that died."

In further evidence, however, of the theory that when a man sits properly in his saddle, it is the horse, and not he, who suffers by a tumble, we submit to our readers the following extraordinary narration by a young General officer of high character, who has kindly permitted us to publish it, briefly describing a fall on horseback to a depth equal to 40 feet more than the height of the weather-cock on the steeple of St. Martin's church, in London, or to double the height of the Duke of York's monument at the bottom of Regent Street.

"United Service Club, 18th March, 1860."

"In June, 1848, at the island of Dominica, in the West Indies, I fell over a precipice of 237 feet perpendicular height, upon the rocks by the sea-side. This occurred about a quarter past 7 o'clock P.M., then quite dark, as no twilight exists in the tropics. Every bone of my horse was broken, and I conceive my escape from instant death the most miraculous that ever occurred. Three men, at various periods, had previously been dashed to atoms at the same spot, and one man twelve months after me, when the Legislative Assembly passed a resolution to secure the road; but if twenty thousand men were to fall there, I think nothing short of a miracle could save one of them. My recovery from the shock I sustained was also as miraculous as my escape with life. I sent out an artist to take a drawing on the spot, and also had the place surveyed by an engineer. I have often thought of putting down all the circumstances of that extraordinary accident, but the dread of being taken for a Baron Munchausen has restrained me. I do not expect that any one will believe it, although there are many living witnesses. Nor do I expect any sympathy, for, as soon as I could hold a pen, I detailed the catastrophe to my mother to account for my long silence. I received, in reply, in due course, a long letter detailing family news, without any allusion to my unfortunate case, except in a postscript, in which she merely said, 'Oh! William, I wish you would give up riding after dinner.'[C]

"Wm. Yorke Moore, Major-Gen.

"P.S. During the fall I stuck to my horse."

The details of this astonishing accident are very shortly as follows:—

Colonel Moore, while commanding the troops in Dominica, lost his way one evening after sunset.

As, in utter darkness, he was endeavouring to get home, he came to several little imperceptible objects which he forced his horse to cross. Shortly afterwards the animal stopped at one which he seemed particularly afraid of.

The soldier, unwilling to halt between two opinions, but, on the contrary, determined to proceed as he thought straight towards his home, at almost full speed rode at the unknown impediment several times in vain, until the animal, surrendering his instinctive fears, and possibly knowledge, to the spurs that were propelling him, with a violent jump into the air cleared the little low hedge, for such it proved to be, bounding that awful precipice which, like a wall, connected the upper story or table-land of the island with the ocean which in solemn darkness reigned beneath it.

Colonel Moore states that during his passage on horseback through the air, almost every event of his life, large as well as small, at about the rate of the electric telegraph, which transmits its ideas one hundred and eighty thousand miles in a second, flashed across his mind as distinctly and as vividly as if they were recurring.

By a sort of clairvoyance, of which in medical annals there exist recorded several similar instances, he saw all that in his lifetime he had done or left undone, and was thinking, seriatim, of almost every friend and relative, when, in an instant, all these bright fiery thoughts on the past, present, or future tenses of his existence became extinguished by a concussion which, depriving him of his senses, left him with his legs in the sea and his body on the rocks, apparently dead.

While lying, corpse-like, in this lonely state, whose beneficent hand was it that all of a sudden dashed upon his face the cool, fresh soft water that recovered him? Whose voice was it that, almost at the same moment, explained to him, not only the accident which had befallen him, but the time that had elapsed since it occurred?

The hand that restored to him his senses was that which had already graciously placed his head in safety upon the rock above the ocean that would have drowned him, but in which his feet had been harmlessly floating. It was the hand that had just created the tropical shower which, as if administered to him by an angel, awakened him from his swoon.

It was the hand that, "in the beginning," when the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep, had created that "lesser light to rule the night," which, just before he fell, he had observed rising from the horizon, but which now, shining above his head, upon four upturned glittering horse-shoes (all he could see of his mangled beast), made known to him, at a glance, that what had evidently befallen him, according to the illuminated clock in the heavens, must have occurred many hours ago.