The quicker the pace the greater collection. Every change of pace from slow to quick should be indicated to the horse by a greater collection; the “bride abattué,” and the “reines flottantes” system is a great mistake.
French and English mistake here. So is the direction to the English cavalry (quoted [p. 6]), to advance the little finger to make the horse advance. To make the horse advance the reins should be tightened; he should be made to collect himself, or he will advance in a loose and extended form.
On account of ease to the rider, a lady’s horse is only permitted to canter with the right leg. He should never be cantered circles to left, or turned at a canter to the left, as unless the horse shifts his leg it will be an unfair exertion to ask of him. Cantering circles to the right, in open ground, where the horse has nothing to bias him but the indications he receives from the rider, is an admirable practice for a lady. An occasional race—who can canter slowest—is also good practice both for horse and rider. This must not be often repeated, nor must the horse be forced from a fair canter into a hobble or amble. Parade riders are too apt to be contented with wooden paces provided they are short. This is very vicious. Really to collect himself, a horse must bend himself. We cannot too often repeat Ovid’s line,—
Flectitis aut freno colla sequacis equi.
With horses obstinately addicted to the left leg, which is frequently a result of being longed only to the left, it is a good plan to canter them side-footed to the right, that is, on a level line, on the side of a hill which rises to the right. In this case a very slight slope will incline the horse to take his right leg, and on the side of a steep hill he can scarcely avoid it.
The shy horse. There are three gradations in riding the shy horse. A man who pulls his horse’s head towards what he expects him to shy at, and uses violence, makes his horse shy. A man who leaves his horse’s head entirely loose, lets his horse shy. And a man who turns his horse’s head from what he expects him to shy at, prevents his horse from shying. Do not imagine that there will be any danger of the horse getting into trouble on the side opposite to what he shies at: the very contrary will be the case. If, indeed, you pull his head towards the object of his alarm, and oblige him to face it, there is every probability that he will run blindly backward from it. And while his whole attention is fixed before him, he will go backward over Dover cliff if it chance to be behind him. Under such circumstances you cannot too rapidly turn your horse’s head and his attention from the fancied, to the substantial ill. But on common occasions the turning his head from what he shies at should be as gradual and imperceptible as possible. No chastisement should be allowed in any case. If he makes a start, you should endeavour not to make a return start. You should not, indeed, take more notice of a shy than you can possibly avoid; and unless the horse has been previously brutalised, and to re-assure him, you should not even caress him, lest even that should make him suspect that something awful is about to happen. The common error is the reverse of all this. The common error is to pull the horse’s head towards the object of his fear, and when he is facing it, to begin with whip and spur. Expecting to be crammed under the carriage-wheel, the horse probably rears or runs back into a ditch, or at least becomes more nervous and more riotous at every carriage that he meets. Horses are instantaneously made shy by this treatment, and as instantaneously cured by the converse of it. It is thus that all bad riders make all high-couraged horses shy, but none ever remain so in the hands of a good horseman.
The restive horse. There is a common error, both in theory and practice, with regard to the restive horse. He is very apt to rear sideways against the nearest wall or paling. It is the common error to suppose that he does so with the view of rubbing his rider off. Do not give him credit for intellect sufficient to generate such a scheme. It is that when there, the common error is to pull his head from the wall. This brings the rider’s knee in contact with the wall, consequently all farther chastisement ceases; for were the rider to make his horse plunge, his knee would be crushed against the wall. The horse, finding this, probably thinks that it is the very thing desired, and remains there; at least he will always fly to a wall for shelter. Instead of from the wall, pull his head towards it, so as to place his eye, instead of your knee, against it; continue to use the spur, and the horse will never go near a wall again.
Truth may be paradoxical. To pull a horse from what he shies at, and towards the wall he rubs you against, are very paradoxical doctrines. But, ὁ μῦθος δηλοῖ, the fable shows, that truth may be paradoxical—that we can blow hot and blow cold with the same breath; and it was only the brutal wild man of the woods who drove the civilised man from his den, for performing the feat.