The Horsewoman: A Practical Guide to Side-Saddle Riding, 2nd. Ed.

by Alice M. Hayes

To jump or not to jump, that is the question with which determined refusers have “stumped” some of the very best cross country riders. I am reminded of an instance which occurred in India, when a fine horsewoman, seeing a friend unable to make his mount jump in a paper-chase, which is nearly akin to a steeple-chase, rode him herself in the next one, with no better result, and great must have been her mortification on finding herself left on the wrong side of the first fence which the determined brute refused to look at, even when carrying this charming lady, to whom many equine bad characters had yielded obedience. This appeared to be a sheer case of equine temper and obstinacy; for the animal could jump well when he liked, but the man or woman has yet to be born who can make a horse jump when he has decided not to do so. I have a very strong belief that refusers are made, not born, for every unbroken horse which my husband had to deal with in his travels, tried his best to give satisfaction by making an effort, even if an unscientific one, to clear the obstacle, generally a heavy log of wood propped up on boxes, which was offered for his consideration. If he jumped well, and in the flippant style of a natural fencer, more boxes were produced, and sometimes these youngsters cleared quite a respectable height in one “lepping” lesson with me on their backs, and my husband at the end of the long reins. The abuse of the curb at fences is the cause of, I think, half the falls, and more than half of the refusals which we see in the hunting field. In Ireland, where the large majority of our hunters come from, the snaffle is the bit used in breaking and hunting, as it is in steeple-chasing; and although our Irish neighbours find the curb has its advantages, we must admit that they keep it in its proper place and do not allow it to usurp the snaffle when riding over fences. The sportsmen of Tipperary, Kildare, Cork and other parts of Ireland, who have to negotiate immense banks, would ridicule the idea of riding at such obstacles on the curb, because no sane person would think of checking a horse in such a manner; and the solid “cope and dash” stone walls of Galway also require to be taken by an animal whose mouth is not interfered with. Here in England we see these Irish hunters frequently ridden at fences on the curb, and the poor brutes, in order to save their mouths and keep on their legs, throw up their heads and give a half buck over the obstacle, landing on all fours, and then get a cut with the whip for having jumped badly! This is how many refusers are made. Another recipe for making a refuser is to pretend to ride hard at a fence and, at the last moment, turn the animal’s head from it, and then loudly rate and “lambaste” him for refusing! Still another method is to “funk” the obstacle when it is too late, and check the horse with the curb after he has made his spring, which will cause him to crash into the middle of the fence, and probably bring both himself and his rider to grief. My husband, being a veterinary surgeon, has had hunters brought to him in a most pitiable state of laceration, caused, I believe, in many cases, by “funk” and curb, a most disastrous combination. We have in our stable at the time of writing, a very intelligent hunter who was dreadfully injured from having, it is said, “jumped bang into a fence,” but I wish that patient sufferer could tell me the real cause of his accident. It was one of those crumpling falls which seem to mean death to both horse and rider, but luckily in this case, the rider escaped with a few bruises and a smashed hat. The horse was also fortunate in a way, as no bones were broken; but the skin and flesh of his near fore-leg were torn off from almost the shoulder to the knee, and I wondered, as I looked on that gaping, bleeding wound, and the poor animal quivering with pain and hardly able to bear even placing the tip of his toe on the ground, if he would ever have the courage to face a fence again. Luckily, he is all right now.

I have heard people talk about a “good fall” being the best means for teaching horses how to jump, and there is a certain modicum of truth in this, especially with young horses, and young horsemen too for that matter; but when an old hunter gets a “bad” fall, I doubt whether he ever recovers his jumping form again, any more than we ourselves who may have come an awful “buster” after we have reached the “age of discretion.” Horses frequently refuse on account of some physical infirmity. Unsoundness in one or both fore legs naturally makes a horse chary of jumping, because of the painful jar which he will receive on landing, when he is obliged to place his entire weight on his fore legs. Then again, if his feet are not in a hard and sound condition, he “funks” the pain of landing over a fence and tries his best to avoid jumping. Many unsound horses, generally hirelings, are hammered along out hunting, especially on roads, with most inconsiderate cruelty. I once tried to hunt on a hireling which, I soon saw, was not in a fit state to carry me without pain. Had I insisted on having my money’s worth out of the animal, it would have been nothing short of gross cruelty. His fore legs were bandaged, as is usual with hired mounts, and he galloped and jumped several small fences soundly, as far as I could feel; but when he came to a rather formidable one, he stopped and tried to rear. I at once found an easier means of egress, which took me for a short distance on a road, and the hard ground of only about 20 yards seemed to tell so much on one leg, that I felt him going decidedly short, pulled him up and walked him home. When I arrived in Melton Mowbray, a lady, the last person in the world whom I would have cared to meet, hailed me with the news that Miss So-and-so had broken her collar-bone, a fact which appeared to give her more pleasure than sorrow, “and you” she said, “have lamed your horse”! The dealer evidently expected this result; for when I rode the horse into his yard, so that I might personally explain things to him, he told me that the animal, which was only a four year old, had been “ridden very hard” by an officer, who, I am sorry to say, has since lost his life in South Africa. The dealer tried his best to make amends by subsequently offering me another mount for nothing; but he certainly did err in letting out this young unsound animal, and spoiling my day’s sport, for which I had paid the usual guineas. My only regret in the matter is that I galloped and jumped an animal which was not in a fit state to perform such work.

Horses are frequently rendered refusers by being repeatedly jumped over the same fence, until they get so disgusted with the performance that they will have no more of it. Spurs and whip then come into play and make matters worse. Even if the animal jumps the fence after a good deal of unnecessary fighting, the memory of this unjust punishment remains in his mind, and is productive of the violent agitation which such horses exhibit on being taken near a jump. It is a wise plan to stop a “lepping” lesson immediately after the horse has cleared the jump in good style, and then make much of him (patting him on the neck and speaking kindly to him). Punishing horses at fences with whip and spur renders them afraid to face their jumps; because they think that they will be knocked about, even when they are trying their best to give satisfaction. Many faulty and bad tempered riders are unnecessarily cruel in this respect. If a horse refuses from seeing an animal fall in front of him, his natural prudence should not be taken as a personal affront, but he should be spoken to and encouraged to try, preferably, if possible, after another horse has got safely over the obstacle, if there is no other part of the fence negotiable. I think that by dint of patience and tactful management, many refusers may be taught to repose sufficient confidence in their riders to make an effort when required, but that can be done only by gentle means and easy tasks. Old tricky offenders cannot be cured of this or any other vice. A lady who is hunting on a doubtful jumper should be careful not to upset other horses by letting her refuser perform in front of them, but should show consideration for her companions by keeping a backward place, supposing that several horses are taking their turn at jumping the only practicable part in a fence. Refusers are detested in the hunting field, and a lady whose hunter is known to shirk his fences and stir up equine rebellion, is soon classed among the large number of those who never will be missed.

BORING.

Horses are said to bore when they carry their heads down and lean heavily on the bit or bear on it to one side. As both the curb and Pelham have a tendency to make a horse carry his head low, they should not, as a rule, be used with a borer. The rider might make the animal keep his head in proper position by playing with the snaffle, the cheekpieces of the bridle of which may be shortened, so that the mouthpiece may press against the corners of the mouth and thus induce him to keep up his head. The same effect can be obtained with the gag snaffle, which has the advantage that, when one’s object is gained, one can ease off the gag reins and take up the other reins, which are used in the ordinary manner. When a horse bores to one side, or when he bores with his head stuck straight out, the standing martingale will often be useful for correcting this unpleasant fault. I have seen in trotting matches a bearing-rein (called in America an “over-draw check-rein”) passing between the animal’s ears, going down the top of his head and attached to the pommel of the saddle, effectively employed to correct this fault. It would, of course, be too unsightly to be used by a lady, but her groom might employ it advantageously in teaching a borer to carry his head in correct position.

KICKING.

If practicable, we should first of all see that the saddle does not hurt the horse in any way. If this be all right, we may “shake him up” with the snaffle reins and make him carry his head high. If this be not effective, he should be given a few cuts with the whip on the shoulder. Making him hold up his head and touching him on the shoulder are done to “lighten” his forehand, and to put more weight on his hind quarters. Also, we may with much advantage give him some practice at reining back, within judicious limits, either when we are in the saddle, or with the long reins. When a horse starts kicking, the rider should take a strong grip of her crutches and lean back, as far as she is able, while holding his head up, and thus prevent herself from being thrown over his head. The most awkward kicker I ever rode was a mountain Zebra ([Fig. 146]), which my husband broke in at Calcutta. He kicked very neatly without lowering his head, and, as the slightest touch on his ears drove him nearly out of his mind, I had great difficulty in avoiding them, as he kicked with a sort of peculiar wriggle which complicated the performance for me, because I had had no practice on a kicking zebra, and had to pick up my knowledge as I went on. It was no use trying to rein him back; for he had a neck like a bull, with a small rudimentary dewlap, and at every kick he gave, he made a noise like a pig grunting. His skin was the best part about him, and was as lovely and soft to the touch as the finest sealskin. As I believe I am the only woman who has ridden a mountain zebra, this photograph is probably unique. It ought to be a better one, seeing the trouble I took to make my obstinate mount stand still; but he seemed to regard the camera as an infernal machine destined for his destruction, and flatly refused to pose nicely for his portrait. He was far too neck-strong to make a pleasant mount for a lady. Kickers, as I have already said, should never be taken into any hunting field.