Hints on Horsemanship, to a Nephew and Niece / or, Common Sense and Common Errors in Common Riding

by George Greenwood

It is surprising that the English are the only people who rise in the stirrup at a trot; it is not surprising that other nations are beginning to follow their example.

Difference between the gallop and the leap. In galloping, the horse’s legs catch the eye most when they are from under him, and he is drawn with all four from under him. In truth, his hind legs are under him when his fore legs are from under him, and his fore legs are under him when his hind legs are from under him; his hind feet pass over where his fore feet rested, so that from footprint to footprint he clears very little space. In fact, owing to what is called leading with one leg, the line between his two fore feet and the line between his two hind feet are by no means at right angles to the line of his direction; so that the greatest distance from footprint to footprint is not nearly half his stroke. The leap differs from the gallop not only in the greater space of ground cleared by the feet, but in the greater space of time for which the feet quit the ground; this last difference is of more importance than might be imagined.

Steeple-chases unfair on the horse. Antæus was not peculiar in his dependence for strength on contact with his mother earth. In leaping, neither man nor horse can draw breath while in the air, that is, from the time the feet leave the ground till they again touch it. But quick breathing (the creber anhelitus) is not only a consequence of distress for wind, but it is a vital necessity when distressed for wind. And the impossibility to draw breath when off the ground is the reason of the death of horses in steeple-chasing and hurdle-racing; they die of suffocation. The reason is a sufficient one for the discontinuance of such racing and chasing.

A mounted horse will overtake a dismounted horse, his superior in speed. It is the common error to suppose that this results from the mechanical assistance of the rider. The real reason is, that the dismounted horse goes off, like an inexperienced jockey, at his utmost speed. I do not believe that a horse can do this for more than a hundred yards without being distressed for wind (and I speak from experience with Mr. Drummond Hay’s barbs at Tangier, which were trained to the feat). The rider starts at a pace which he knows his horse can keep, and the dismounted horse, though he gains on him at first, comes back to him as the jockeys say: for a horse which has been distressed for wind in the first hundred yards, will not arrive at the end of a mile nearly so soon as if he had gone the whole at the best pace he could stay at. Here the assistance from the rider is mental not mechanical.

When mounted it never happens to any horse but an arab or a barb to go his best muscular pace. What we call best pace is the best pace a horse can stay at for wind. If a common hack were started fresh for the last hundred yards against the best horses in England when finishing their race, he would have it hollow.

The rider should not lift his horse at a fence. Woe to the sportsman who ambitiously attempts to lift his horse mechanically over a fence on the principle discussed above; he is much more likely to throw him into it. He had better content himself with sitting quietly on his horse, holding him only just enough to keep his head straight and to regulate his pace, and trust the rest to his horse’s honour. The horse should feel sufficiently commanded to know that he must go, and sufficiently at liberty to know that he may use all his capabilities. The body should not previously be thrown back, but as the horse springs, the lower part of the rider being firmly fixed in the saddle, and the upper part perfectly pliable, the body will fall back of itself; and with strong jumping horses, or at down leaps, the shoulders of fine riders will constantly meet their horse’s croupes.

A bad horseman throws his horse down, which a good one does not. That is, because the bad horseman hurries his horse over hard or rough ground, or down hill, or over loose stones—allows him to choose his own ground—lets him flounder into difficulties, and when there, hauls him so that he cannot see, or exert himself to get out of them, and expecting chastisement, the horse springs and struggles to avoid it before he has recovered his feet, and goes down with a tremendous impetus. If he has to cross a rut to the right he probably forces his horse across it when the right foot is on the ground. In this case, unless the horse collects himself and jumps—if he attempts to step across it, the probability is that in crossing his legs he knocks one against the other and falls. The reverse of all this should be the case. If you have not sufficient tact to feel which of your horse’s feet is on the ground, you must allow him to choose his own time for crossing, which will be when the left foot is on the ground.

You should habitually choose your horse’s ground for him, for, notwithstanding his often vaunted sagacity and safety, the wisest among horses will, to avoid a moving leaf, put his foot over a precipice. This will become as easy to you as choosing your own path in walking. If your horse has made a false step, or is in difficulties, you cannot leave him too much at liberty, or be too quiet with him. The only notice to be taken is to re-assure him by caressing him, if you see that he expects chastisement from previous brutal treatment.

I will add that you should habitually prevent your horse out-walking or lagging behind his companions; he is either very unsociable or a bad horseman, who does not keep abreast of his companions. Besides, horses, being gregarious, are apt to follow one another. This should not be. Your horse should be in perpetual obedience to the indications which your hands and legs give him, and to nothing else. These indications should not only decide the pace which he is to take, but deal out to him the rate at which each pace is to be executed, and also determine his carriage during the performance of it; that is, the degree in which he is to collect himself, or the degree of liberty which is to be allowed him.

[54-*] Of all stupid appliances of man to his horse, the most dense is the Austrian and south German mode of driving the einspanner or single horse or a leader. The rein goes single from the driver’s hand, and divides into two at the horse’s neck. The driver, therefore, has no power of making a distinct indication on either rein: and to turn, he whips and jerks till the horse guesses his meaning.