One day when Smith was drawing for a fox on his famous horse Fire-King, he came to a precipitous bank at the end of a meadow, with a formidable drop into a hard road. "You can't get out there, Sir," said a civil farmer. "I should like very much to see the place where we" (patting Fire-King) "cannot go," was the reply, as down he rode, to the astonishment of the field.
"In falling," says Sir J. Eardley Wilmot, "he always contrived to fall clear of his horse. The bridle-rein, which fell as lightly as breeze of zephyr on his horse's neck, was then held as in a vice. In some instances, with horses whom he knew well, he would ride for a fall, where he knew it was not possible for him to clear a fence. With Jack-o'-Lantern he was often known to venture on this experiment, and he frequently said there was not a field in Leicestershire in which he had not had a fall. 'I never see you in the Harborough country,' he observed to a gentleman who occasionally hunted with the Quorn. 'I don't much like your Harborough country,' replied the other, 'the fences are so large.' 'Oh!' observed Mr. Smith, 'there is no place you cannot get over with a fall.' To a young supporter of his pack, who was constantly falling and hurting himself, he said, 'All who profess to ride should know how to fall.'"
The author of 'Silk and Scarlet' says:—
"It was a great speech of Mr. Smith's, if ever he saw a horse refuse with his Whips, 'Throw your heart over, and your horse will follow.' He never rode fast at his fences. I have heard him say scores of times, 'When a man rides at fences a hundred miles an hour, depend upon it he funks.'"
Sir William Miles confirms this statement:—
"Mr. Smith," he remarks, "always said, 'Go slow at all fences, except water. It makes a horse know the use of his legs, and by so riding he can put down a leg wherever it is wanted.'"
Long Wellesley had a horse which he declared no man could see a run on. "He only requires a rider," said the squire. "Will you ride him, then, at Glen Gorse?" "Willingly!" replied Smith, who, after several falls, killing his fox, was presented with the animal, which he accordingly named "Gift."
The history of the education of Smith's favourite horse, Jack-o'-Lantern, is described as follows:—
"We were riding," said Tom Edge, "to covert through a line of bridle-gates, when we came to a new double oaken post and rail fence. 'This is just the place to make my colt a good timber jumper,' said the squire; 'so you shut the gate, and ride away fast.' This was no sooner done than the squire rode at the rails, which Jack taking with his breast, gave both himself and his rider such a fall, that their respective heads were looking towards the fence they had ridden at. Up rose both at the same time, as if nothing very particular had happened. 'Now,' said Tom Smith, 'this will be the making of the horse; just do as you did before, and ride away.' Edge did so, and Jack flew the rails without touching, and from that day was a first-rate timber fencer."
Only on two occasions, while hunting, did Tom Smith succeed in breaking a bone: once at Melton, when he consoled himself by learning arithmetic from the pretty damsel at the post-office; and afterwards, when one of his ribs was fractured, owing, as he said, to his having a knife in his breast-pocket:—