The Blackmore Country

by F. J. Snell

from flood and foeman (Lorna Doone, chapter xlvii.), and lower down still is the moorland village of Withypool. In summer, the water-meadows here, with background of brown moor, are lovely, but in rainy seasons Withypool is a wet place indeed, the little streams being even more to be dreaded that the raging of the Barle and Kennsford Water. In passing through the village a few years ago, I happened to hear that there are five wise men of Withypool, whose names were mentioned to me. One, I believe, was a follower of St Crispin, whom his neighbours, on account of his being at once “long-headed” and little of stature, called, Torney Mouse. Here also resides the renowned “Joe” Milton, a champion of the old wrestling days, in which he bore off many a trophy.

When the snow lies piled in impracticable drifts on the main Exford road, the Simonsbath people creep round to Dulverton and the world by way of Withypool. Let us proceed to the capital of Exmoor by this route. As we do so, it may be well to say something of the term “forest,” as applied to Exmoor. To anyone who knows the country, such a description must inevitably suggest the famous etymology, lucus a non lucendo; except at Simonsbath, there is hardly a tree to be seen. But, according to legal usage the word does not of necessity connote timber; it indicates nothing more than an uncultivated tract of country reserved for the chase. The term indeed is said to be identical with the Welsh gores or gorest (waste land), whence comes also the word “gorse,” used alternately with “furze,” as being a common growth on wastes. From the earliest times, Exmoor was a royal hunting-ground, and so remained until that portion of it which still belonged to the Crown was sold, in 1818, to Mr John Knight, of Worcestershire. The Crown allotment comprised 10,000 acres; subsequently Mr Knight bought 6000 more, and so became owner of, at least, four-fifths of the forest.

Much has been written concerning those ancient denizens of the moor—the ponies. In my Book of Exmoor, I have dealt almost exhaustively with the subject as regards the pure breed; and every year experts in horsey matters favour the British public with accounts of those wary little animals in various periodicals. Sportsmen, however, have often put to me the question, “After all, what good are they?” That they are good for some purpose, is proved by the ready sales at Bampton Fair; but it is true, nevertheless, that the breed labours under a grave disadvantage in point of size, and those interested in the problem have often essayed to produce a serviceable cross.

Instead of treating once again those aspects of pony science which have been discussed ad nauseam, I propose to devote attention almost exclusively to Mr Knight’s remarkable efforts in this direction, full particulars of which have never, so far I know, been embodied in any permanent work.

For some years previous to the sale of the forest, the price of the ponies ranged from four to six pounds, but the exportation of this class of live-stock, as well as sheep, did not always proceed on regular or legitimate lines. The Exmoor shepherds, in defiance of the “anchor brand,” took liberal tithe of them, and, at nightfall, passed them over the hills to their crafty Wiltshire customers. On the completion of the sale the original uncrossed herd was transferred to Winsford Hill, where Sir Thomas had another “allotment,” only a dozen mare ponies being left to continue the line. At that time Soho Square was as fashionable a quarter as Belgravia, and one of its residents was the celebrated naturalist, Sir Joseph Banks, who invited Mr Knight to a dinner party. Bruce’s Abyssinian stories were then all the rage, and the conversation chanced to fall on the merits of the Dongola horse, described by the “travelling giant” as an Arab of sixteen hands, peculiar to the regions round about Nubia. Sir Joseph consulted his guests as to the desirability of procuring some of the breed, and Lords Hadley, Morton, and Dundas, and Mr Knight were so enamoured of the idea that they handed him there and then a joint cheque for one thousand pounds to cover the expense.

Over and above their height, the Dongola animals had somewhat Roman noses, their skin was of a very fine texture, they were well chiselled under the jowl, and, like all their race, clear-winded. As regards their action, it was of the “knee-in-the-curb-chain” sort, whilst their short thick backs and great hindquarters made them rare weight-carriers. As against all this, the “gaudy blacks” had flattish ribs, drooping croups, rather long white legs, and blaze foreheads. Perfect as manège horses, the dusky Nubian who brought them over galloped them straight at a wall in the riding-school, making them stop dead when they reached it. Altogether ten or twelve horses and mares arrived, of which the Marquis of Anglesey observed that they would “improve any breed alive.” Acting on his advice, Mr Knight bought Lord Hadley’s share, and two sires and three mares were at once sent to Simonsbath, where the new owner had established a stud of seven or eight thoroughbred mares, thirty half-breds of the coaching Cleveland variety, and a dozen twelve-hand pony mares. The result of the first cross between these last and one of the Dongolas was that the produce came generally fourteen hands two, and very seldom black. The mealy nose, so distinctive of the Exmoors, was completely knocked; but not so the buffy, which stood true to its colour, so that the type was not wholly destroyed.

The West Somerset pack often visited Exmoor to draw for a fox, and on such occasions the services of white-robed guides were usually called into requisition; but the half Dongolas performed so admirably that this practice gradually fell into disuse. They managed to get down the difficult hills so cleverly, and in crossing the brooks were so close up to the hounds, that nothing further was necessary.[14]

The cross-out was intended for size only, not for character. No sire with the Dongola blood was used, and such mares as did not retain a good proportion of the Exmoor type were immediately drafted. The first important successor of the Dongola was Pandarus, a white-coloured son of Whalebone, fifteen hands high, who confirmed the original bay, but reduced the standard to thirteen hands or thirteen and a half. Another sire was Canopus, a grandson of Velocipede, by whom the fine breeding as well as the Pandarus bay was perpetuated.

Meanwhile the colts were wintered on limed land, and thus enabled to bear up pretty well against the climate. Later, however, the farms were let by the late Sir Frederick (then Mr F. W.) Knight—a course which necessitated the withdrawal of the ponies to the naked moor, where, if the mares with the first cross could put up with the fare and the climate, they grew too thin to give any milk. On the other hand, those which were only half bred stood it well with their foals. About 1842 the whole pony stud was remodelled. The lighter mares were drafted, and from that time Mr Knight resolved to stick to his own ponies and the conventional sire. For many years this was strictly observed, and apart from the chestnut Hero, a horse of massive build sprung from a Pandarus sire, and the grey Lillias, of almost unalloyed Acland blood, no colour was used but the original buff.