HANDS.
Nearly every writer on the subject of riding is of opinion that “good hands” are inborn and cannot be acquired. This may be so, but the worst of hands may be greatly improved by good teaching and practice. Continental horsemen do not, as a rule, learn how to ride across country, but the majority of them devote much study to the various methods of bitting and handling horses, and, as far as hacking is concerned, their horses are better broken and better handled than they are in this country. I am not alluding to the question of seat, as I think Britons, and especially our Colonial cousins, can beat them on that point; but it is evident, as can be seen any day and in any hunting field, that more study should be devoted to the acquirement of good hands. A course of school riding, especially on a made “school” horse, which is a very light-mouthed animal, would greatly lessen the clumsiness of heavy hands; or, if such instruction were unobtainable, good practice might be had on a young horse which had been carefully broken by a competent horseman. No young horse will pull until he is taught to do so by bad handling, and a lady who wishes to improve her hands might ride a young animal, in the company of an old steady horse, and ascertain in this way what the natural condition of a horse’s mouth really is and how easily it may be controlled. I do not think that many ladies have heavy hands with horses—their chief fault lies in their want of control over their mounts. Many ride with the reins so loose that their horses get out of hand and go in an uncollected manner, and accidents not unfrequently occur from this cause. As horses which are not well in hand in the hunting field will, sooner or later, bring their riders either to grief or to disgrace, this slipshod method of handling should be avoided. Although the grip which a lady obtains in a side-saddle should render her entirely independent of the reins as a means of support, she is handicapped by being unable to lower her hands to the same extent as a man. I have found that with horses which carry their heads too high, and throw them up if the rider tries to lower them, a standing martingale attached to the rings of the snaffle affords considerable help in obtaining perfect control, especially with young horses. But I would not recommend a lady to use a standing martingale with a horse which has not previously been accustomed to it, nor indeed at all, unless she rides chiefly on the snaffle; for although it is perfectly safe to use the curb with a standing martingale in steadying and collecting a horse, it would be highly dangerous to touch it when the animal is jumping. The majority of riding men regard the standing martingale as dangerous—and rightly, for only men with good hands can safely use it. If any sudden snatch or jerk were made at the curb, and the horse in throwing up his head found himself caught by the standing martingale, a very serious accident might happen. The standing martingale in no way impedes a horse’s jumping, for horses do not jump with their heads in the air, unless they fear the curb. [Fig. 48] shows its maximum length. It may be said that ladies ought not to ride horses which carry their heads too high, but many of us have to make the best of what we can get in the matter of horseflesh, and employ the surest methods at our command for keeping such animals under perfect control. The standing martingale is dangerous in hunting only when going through gates, as it is liable to catch in a gate post and cause trouble.
The faster a horse goes at any particular pace in a natural and unconstrained manner, the more will he try to extend his head and neck, so as to bring the centre of gravity of his body forward, and also to aid the muscles of the neck in drawing the fore limbs to the front. The pulling in of the head and neck by the reins will, therefore, be a direct indication to the animal to slacken his speed. If he be well broken he will not only go slower, but will also signify the fact of his obedience by yielding to the bit by the play of the joints of his head and neck. When he keeps these joints (namely, those which connect the lower jaw to the head, and the head to the neck, and the joints of the neck themselves) free from all rigidity and bears lightly on the bit, he is what is called “well in hand,” in which state every horsewoman should endeavour to keep her mount, as it is the beau idéal one that admits of full control by the rider and of perfect freedom of movement on the part of the horse. Having the horse well in hand, the rider should be careful to keep the reins at one unaltered length for the particular rate of speed at which she is going. If she desires to increase it, she should give her horse a signal which he understands, and should lengthen the reins as may be required. If she wishes to go slower, she should proportionately shorten them; but she should always preserve uniformity of speed at any pace by keeping a fixed length of reins. Nothing is worse for a horse’s mouth than the constant “give and take” (in Ireland they call it “niggling” at a horse’s mouth) which is practised by almost every bad rider. This fact is so well recognised by our jockeys that “Keep your hands steady” is the chief order which competent trainers of racehorses give to their lads. When a rider keeps shifting the position of her hands, her bewildered animal will be unable to know at what speed she wants him to travel. All this reads very simple, but sometimes we find that horses, especially when excited by hounds, insist on going at their own pace. If the coast is clear in front, and the horseman in advance has got safely over and away from the fence to which a lady is approaching, it would not be wise for her to interfere with her hunter, because, if he knows his business, he won’t fall if he can help it. But if, on the other hand, the only practicable place in a fence is not free, the keenness of the animal must be checked by a judicious use of the curb. If he is so headstrong as to refuse to obey this command by slackening speed, he should be turned round either to right or left, whichever may be the easier for his rider. When we find ourselves in such a tight corner we must, for our own safety as well as for that of our neighbours, exercise a certain amount of force in controlling our horses. The “silken thread” method of handling, which is, or should be, employed at any other time, stands us in poor stead in the face of this difficulty. There are horses which will neither slacken speed nor turn for their riders, and a runaway in the hunting field is by no means rare. If any lady has a hunter who takes charge of her in this manner, I would strongly advise her to ride him in a standing martingale ([p. 82]), because with its aid she will generally be able to turn him, even if she cannot stop him in any other way. A horse which will neither slacken speed nor turn in any direction gallops on, as a rule, with his head up, and, having succeeded in shifting the snaffle from the bars to the corners of his mouth, he is impervious to the action of the curb, because his head is too high for the curb to act with advantage. On such an animal the standing martingale is valuable, because it makes him keep his head in a proper position. A great deal of sound sense has been written by different horsemen on the subject of “hands.” Sam Chifney tells us to use the reins as if they were silken threads which any sharp pull would break, and Mr. John Hubert Moore always gave the advice to take a pull at the reins as though you were drawing a cork out of a bottle without wishing to spill one drop of its contents. I have often, in my own mind, likened a horse’s mouth to a piece of narrow elastic which is capable of expansion up to a certain point. When vigorously tugged at, it is no longer elastic, but as unyielding as ordinary string. Good hands maintain its elasticity, bad ones convert it into string. A sympathetic touch on a horse’s mouth can only be made by “good hands.” A musician, if he is an artist, will accompany a weak-voiced singer so sympathetically that the sweet though not robust notes of the voice are heard to the best advantage: he is a man with good hands. A heavy-fisted player, desiring to show his command over the instrument, will try to turn the accompaniment into a pianoforte solo, and the nice notes of the struggling singer will be entirely drowned by noise. He is like the heavy-handed, unsympathetic rider.