December, 1880.
Sir,—Since I have come to London I have been asked so many questions respecting the reason why ladies so often "pull their horses," that I feel I may accomplish some good by answering, or may at least assist in doing away with a very crying evil. My opinion is that there is usually but one reason, viz. because the horses pull them; but for a woman to pull against a pulling horse only increases the evil. It is a fallacy, and can never accomplish the desired end. A determined puller cannot, under any circumstances, be suitable to a lady, and should never be ridden by one, unless she be a sufficiently good rider and have sufficiently good hands to make the horse's mouth, which is not the case with one woman in five hundred, or, I might almost say, one man either. Horses that pull have been almost invariably spoilt in the training. Occasionally a fine-mouthed animal will be ruined by an ignorant or cruel rider, but I must say, in justice to my sex, that they are seldom guilty of doing it. The fault lies amongst men. Many women are ignorant riders; but, thank God! the blot of cruelty rarely defaces their name. Women are naturally gentle, kindly, and—cowardly; three things calculated not to injure a horse, except it be the latter, which enables him to discover that he can be master if he please. Doubtless there are cruel women, also, who cut and lash, and tug and spur, and treat heaven's noble gifts as though they were mere machinery, and not flesh and blood like ourselves; but how often shall I say, in answer to the numerous cases cited to me, that in writing upon this or any other subject I speak of the rule, not of the isolated exceptions. When a man begins to break a horse he regularly prepares for combat. He sets himself to work with a resolute determination to fight and be fought, as though he had a strong rebellious spirit to deal with and conquer, instead of a loving, kindly, timid nature, which needs nought save gentleness to make it amenable to even the rudest hand. The man begins by pulling; the horse, on the schoolboy "tit for tat" principle, pulls against him in return; is sold before his education (bad as it has been) is half completed; is ridden out to exercise by grooms with heavy iron hands; is handed over to the riding-school and to carry young ladies when every bit of spirit has been knocked out of him, except the determined one of pulling—pulls resolutely against the feeble hands striving to control him; is pulled and strained at in return, and becomes in time a confirmed and unmanageable brute. I wish I could persuade ladies not to pull their horses. In a former number I endeavoured to tell them the proper method of managing or dealing with a pulling animal: neither to drop their hands to him, nor to pull one ounce against him. He will be certain after a few strides to yield a bit, when the hands—hitherto firm, should immediately yield to him, thus establishing a sort of give and take principle, which will soon be perfectly understood by the intelligent creature under control. We do not half appreciate our horses. Every touch of our fingers, every word we utter, every glance from our eye is noted by the horse, and is valued or resented as it deserves. So many animals are made unruly by the undue use of a severe curb that I strongly advise a trial of the snaffle only, holding the curb-rein loosely over the little finger, so that it may be in an instant taken up in case it prove necessary, which, in my opinion, it rarely will. To illustrate my meaning, on Monday last I rode a mare for a lady, who was very desirous of ascertaining whether the animal was capable of carrying a lady with safety. The groom, who was to accompany me, was evidently extremely nervous. He told me, as we started, that the mare had never done any saddle work, except with a very wild young gentleman-rider, who had bitted her severely, and yet found her difficult to manage; and he implored me earnestly to keep a good hold of the curb. I found that she hung desperately upon her bridle, kept her head between her knees with a strong, determined, heavy pull upon the bit, and rough, jerky action, which was most unpleasant. When I got her into the Row she nearly pulled my arms out in her canter—the tug she had upon the bridle was quite terrific; and, evidently prepared for the accustomed fight, she put back her ears and shook her wicked head angrily. I rode her from Palace Gate to Hyde Park Corner in the same manner as I have sought to impress upon my lady readers—namely, not pulling one atom against her, but keeping my hands low and firm, and yielding slightly to her in her stride. By the time we had turned at the Corner she had quite given up fighting. I then dropped the curb, and rode her entirely upon the snaffle. The effect was magical. She lifted her head, ceased pulling altogether, and went along in a pleasant joyous canter, going well up to her bridle, but not attempting any liberties whatever, In an hour's time, as you, sir, who were riding with me will bear testimony, I was holding her with one hand, stooping forward, and making much of her with the other, an attention which she evidently regarded as a pleasing novelty, and highly appreciated. Finding her slightly untractable during the ride homeward I once more lightly took up the curb. It maddened her in a moment. She turned round and round, ran me against a cart, and behaved so excitedly that it required my best skill, confidence, and temper to restore her equanimity and steer her safely (using the snaffle only) to her destination. On dismounting I observed to the groom that considering the amount of exercise and excitement through which she had passed, it was wonderful she had not sweated. His answer was that she was always fed upon cooked food, and that the chief sustenance of the horse which he himself was riding—a remarkably fine three-year-old—was boiled barley. I have never, myself, tried this feeding, but if looks and condition may be regarded as recommendation, it must be most excellent.
I am, Sir,
Yours obediently,
Nannie Power O'Donoghue.
Sir,—I have been very greatly interested by the remarks on saddles, spurs, &c., made by your lady correspondents. My husband is a large ranchero, or cattle-farmer, on the Rio Grande, between Mexico and Texas, and naturally I have had much experience of hard as well as long-distance riding. Having been accustomed to hunting when I was a girl, I came out here with an exaggerated idea of my skill in horsemanship. My first ride in Mexico was one of three hundred miles, which we did in seven days; I rode on an English hunting-saddle almost, if not quite, as "straight as a board." After the second day I found it as uncomfortable a seat as could be desired, and was glad to change it for the peon's ordinary Mexican saddle, which I found perfectly easy and comparatively comfortable to my English one. This last I have found exceedingly fatiguing and ill-adapted to a long journey, although very good for a few hours' ride after wild cattle, which is a certain approach to hunting, although the jumping is not stiff. Lately I had another saddle sent out from England, which was a little deeper, and I find it much more useful for long distances. As ladies are not in the habit of riding steeplechases, I would venture to suggest that, for hard riding, such as hunting, the saddle might rather be heavier than lighter, as I am sure that this must give more relief to the horse's back. In fact, I believe that the sore backs so often produced by ladies' saddles are more frequently caused by the saddle being too light than too heavy. I quite agree with some of your correspondents that the padded stirrup is most dangerous, as it is not easy to get the foot out quickly if anything should happen.
The principle, as stated by the Mexicans, of striking a horse between the ears is not to bring him down by fright, but to bring him down by force, so as to "stun" him. Now, do you think that any of your fair correspondents could accomplish this with a light park or hunting-whip? I may be very bold to offer any suggestions, but the lady's sidesaddle of the nineteenth century is very far from being pleasant. Why should not ladies in this age of progression begin to ride on saddles shaped like a man's, with the same seat a man uses? It would be much more comfortable, as even a stout lady could not look much more ungraceful than she does now, besides materially lessening the danger. I send you a sketch of a Mexican saddle.