To roll clear of the horse is the secret in most heavy falls, and this can only be done where the foot is absolutely free from the stirrup, and the habit from the pommels of the saddle. For this reason I again most strongly advocate the use of a plain racing-stirrup for ladies in the hunting-field, as it has not any sort of machinery that can possibly get out of order, and is therefore independent of the variable attentions bestowed upon such matters by unthinking grooms. A good plain stirrup, made large enough to release the foot, even if thrust “home,” is the safest and best in which an equestrian can ever ride. I approve (as already stated) of the spring-bar attachment, and think that every lady before setting out to hunt ought to see for herself that the spring is open. I know that this theory is not a popular one among horsewomen, as they think it is apt to entail the loss of a stirrup in a quick run; but this is an error, for the stirrup-leather will seldom or never come away if properly treated (by which I mean not leant upon)—except in case of strong pressure being brought to bear upon it, as, for instance, in the event of a fall. An accomplished horsewoman will never ride from the stirrup, but will use it merely as a support for the foot, and will be altogether independent of it, even if entirely taken away.
With untrained riders it is, of course, different, and to their churning motion in the saddle, and heavy hang upon the stirrup-leather, one half the sore backs and other sufferings to which ladies’ horses are liable, are altogether attributable.
A habit-skirt, if properly constructed, cannot possibly catch upon the pommels when the wearer receives a fall. I have already given suitable instructions concerning the cut of habits, and would here take occasion to say that a marvellously improved plan, introduced by Thomas & Sons, of South Molton Street, has been lately shown me. It consists of cutting the skirt with one seam less than usual, and making it without any hem around the bottom. Of this latter I greatly approve. It has frequently happened that a skirt, when caught on the pommel, has torn downwards as far as the hem, and been there arrested, owing to the resistance offered by the strength of the doubled cloth. Where the hem is done away with, this danger ceases to exist, and the skirt looks if anything better than those that are finished in the ordinary way. I strongly recommend the innovation.
The most dangerous fall that a lady can get is one into a deep ditch, or drain, with her horse on top of her; the least dangerous is when he comes down with her on the flat, and gives her a chance to roll clear of him. The best course to pursue in the first instance is to remain perfectly quiet, provided the horse does so also, until rescued. If your head happens to get under water, or that you are in any physical suffering entailed by the position in which you are placed, it will of course be incumbent upon you to endeavour to extricate yourself from it, but even in so awful a moment you should strive to remember that a prostrate horse will be far less likely to injure you than a struggling one, and that if you begin to move, or to pull his head about (as I have seen some frightened ladies do), he will probably make violent efforts to get upon his feet, and may hurt you very severely before help arrives.
If the place is very deep, and narrow at the bottom, and that you are partially under the horse, strive for your life to keep his head down, in order that he may not attempt to rise, and so trample you in his endeavours. He cannot get up so long as you can prevent his lifting his head; therefore, if you can contrive to throw a leg across it, or an arm, or any other portion of your body, do so, but never drag at the rein when in such a position. Strive if possible, however, to retain a light hold of it, in order that, in the event of the animal managing to regain his feet without mischief, he may not get altogether away from you. Coolness and courage will be the best companions upon so trying an occasion.
When a thoroughly practised horsewoman gets a fall of this description, it is generally through riding a beaten horse at a place that is too big for his exhausted powers to carry him safely over—an error into which almost all enthusiastic riders are apt to be led; or it may occur through the landing-ground being rotten, or broken away. When this latter is the case, the horse’s hind legs slip from beneath him, and he hangs for a dreadful moment, half-in, half-out of the ravine, beating a frantic tattoo with his fore-feet upon the brink, while the hinder ones struggle to find something that may serve as an assistance against the otherwise inevitable going back. A moment like this is supremely dreadful for both horse and rider. The latter, if a man, may swing himself off in the twinkling of an eye, and jump on to the bank, keeping a hold of the bridle all the while, and by it may assist his mount to regain terra firma when he is safely landed there himself; I have seen it done by smart horsemen over and over again,—but no lady that ever entered a hunting-field can possibly do it without a hand being stretched from the bank to assist her.
I recall instances, and think of them with horror, of finding myself hanging over an abyss—for such it always seems to an excited fancy—watching my horse’s forelegs striving to plant themselves, feeling the struggling quarters seeking some help from below, seeing the scarlet nostril laid level with the earth, the eager neck outstretched, the panting muscles brought strongly into play—hearing the anxious snort, dealing out abundant rein, and uttering words of encouragement in the vain hope that the horse may succeed in righting himself—conscious, nevertheless, that he is sinking lower and lower, seeing then a friendly hand outstretched to assist me, feeling the welcome grip of it, clutching strongly at it as it drags me to the bank, knowing that I have never let go the bridle during that terrible moment of suspense, making use of it then to draw my brave horse to a place of safety, looking down with a shudder into the chasm from which we have both escaped, and finally, with a laugh, and a Laus also, jumping merrily into the saddle again, and scurrying away in the hope of picking up the hounds.
But there came an instance of misadventure which ended less happily—when there was no strong hand to rescue or help—when the awful backward crash occurred only too surely, and oblivion followed, to be succeeded in time by a consciousness that for ever and ever the sight of happy hunting-fields, and the sound of huntsman’s horn and hounds’ joyful opening-out were gone away, to be known no more on earth. Such things are sad awakenings from sweet fitful dreams. I pray that all my young readers may be spared them; and with more than one fate to warn, I urge that discretion may at all times usurp the place of valour or ambition, and that no feat may be attempted which will be likely to involve dire, if not fatal results. Better be a live dog than a dead lion; and a few who are now disabled would rather have their bodies intact to-day, than have ever known the uncertain pleasures that are attendant upon being Kings and Queens of an hour. I do not say that it is so with myself. A short life and a merry one is much more suited to my elastic temperament; but there are others, young, beautiful women, whose feet have only touched the threshold of life’s loveliest and brightest doorway, who are nevertheless looking back—with tears.
To resume, however. The second description of fall on which I have touched: namely, one on the flat, is only dangerous according as the horse may or may not attempt to roll when down. If he falls fairly on his knees and nose, you may manage (as I have explained) to retain your seat in the saddle, and may even assist him to get upon his legs; many fine horsewomen do it: but if you try the experiment you must not forget to sit well back, not only in order to take the weight off his shoulders, but to save yourself from getting knocked in the face. If you watch the movements of a fallen animal, you will perceive that at the instant that he steadies himself on his knees when rising, he instinctively flings up his head, a motion absolutely necessary for the restoration of his balance; if at such a moment you happen to be leaning forward in the saddle, you will be certain to receive severe punishment, and perhaps be disabled for the remainder of the day.
If, in falling, the horse turns over upon his side, you cannot do any better than strive to get clear of him; but do not on any account let go the rein if you can possibly help it. So long as you can keep hold of it you will not only prevent your mount from getting away over the country, but will save yourself from possible contact with his heels, for it stands to reason that he cannot have both his back and fore-quarters turned to you at one and the same time, and if you have a hold of his head he certainly cannot twist himself round to kick at you. I know quite well that there is an ignorant idea abroad relative to the danger of holding on to the bridle of a fallen horse. “Let him go! let him go!” shrieks the multitude, when any mishap is witnessed; and the poor, unlearned, frightened rider follows the foolish advice, and away goes the steed, with reins and stirrups flying—lashing out, perhaps, in his exuberance at finding himself free—and is perhaps not brought back until the wearied owner has had to relinquish all hope of catching up the hunt, and been compelled also to walk some miles of the road homewards.