Riding for Ladies

by W. A. Kerr

The Trot.

In this useful but trying pace the lady must sit well down on her saddle, rising and falling in unison with the action of the horse, springing lightly but not too highly by the action of the horse coupled with the flexibility of the instep and the knee. As the horse breaks from the walk into the faster pace, it is best not to attempt to rise from the saddle till he has fairly settled down to his trot—better for a few paces to sit back, somewhat loosely, and bump the saddle. The rise from the saddle is to be made as perpendicularly as possible, though a slight forward inclination of the body from the loins, but not with roached-back, may be permitted, and only just so high as to prevent the jar that ensues from the movements of the rider with the horse not being in unison. The return of the body to the saddle must be quiet, light, and unlaboured. Here it is that the practice without a stirrup will stand the novice in good stead.

This pace is the most difficult of all to ladies, and few there be that attain the art of sitting square and gracefully at this gait, and who rise and fall in the saddle seemingly without an effort and without riding too much in the horse's mouth. Most women raise themselves by holding on to the bridle. Instead of rising to the right, so that they can glance down the horse's shoulder, and descending to left, and thus regain the centre of the saddle, they persist in rising over the horse's left shoulder, and come back on to the saddle in the direction of his off-quarter. This twist of the body to the left destroys the purchase of the foot and knee, and unsteadies the position and hands. Though I have sanctioned a slight leaning forward as the horse breaks into his trot, it must not be overdone, for should he suddenly throw up his head his poll may come in violent contact with the rider's face and forehead, causing a blow that may spoil her beauty, if not knock her senseless.

RIGHT AND WRONG RISING.

Till the rider can hit off the secret of rising, she will be severely shaken up—"churned" as a well-known horsewoman describes the jiggiddy-joggoddy motion,—the teeth feel as if they would be shaken out of their sockets, and stitch-in-the-side puts in its unwelcome appearance. Certes, the preliminary lessons are very trying ones, the disarrangement of "the get-up" too awful, the fatigue dreadful, the alarm no trifle. Nothing seems easier, and yet nothing in the art equestrian is so difficult—not to men with their two stirrups, but to women with one only available. What is more grotesque, ridiculous, and disagreeable than a rider rising and falling in the saddle at a greater and lesser speed than that of her horse? And yet, fair reader, if you will have a little patience, a good deal of perseverance, some determination, and will attend to the hints I give, you shall, in due course, be mistress over the difficulty, and rise and fall with perfect ease and exquisite grace, free from all embarras or undue fatigue.

First of all, we must put you on a very smooth, easy, and sedate trotter; by-and-by we may transfer your saddle to something more sharp and lively, perhaps even indulge you with a mount on a regular "bone-setter." To commence with, the lessons, or rather trotting bouts, shall be short, there shall be frequent halts, and during these halts I shall make you drop your reins and put you through extension and balance motions, endeavour to correct your position on the saddle, catechize you closely on the "aids," and introduce as much variety as possible.

Before urging your steed into his wild six or seven-mile-an-hour career, please bear in mind that you must not rise suddenly, or with a jerk, but quietly and smoothly, letting the impetus come from the motion of the horse. The rise from the saddle must not be initiated by a long pull and strong pull at his mouth, a spasmodic grip of your right leg on the crutch, or a violent attempt to raise yourself in the air from your stirrup. The horse will not accommodate his action to yours, you must "take him on the hop," as the saying is. If horse and rider go disjointly, or you do not harmonize your movements with his, then it is something as unpleasant as dancing a waltz with a partner who won't keep time, or rowing "spoonful about."

Falling in with the trot of a horse is at first very difficult. In order to facilitate matters as much as possible, you shall, for a few days, substitute the old-fashioned slipper for the stirrup, as then the spring will come from the toes and not from the hollow of the foot; this will lessen the exertion and be easier. If nature has happened to fashion you somewhat short from the hip to the knee, and you will attend to instruction and practice frequently, the chances are strong in your favour of conquering the irksome "cross-jolt." Separate your reins, taking one in each hand, feeling the mouth equally with both reins, sit well down on your saddle, keep your left foot pointed straight to the front, don't attempt to move till the horse has steadied into his trot, which, in case of a well trained animal, will be in a stride or two, then endeavour, obeying the impulse of his movement, to time the rise.

A really perfectly broken horse, "supplied on both hands," as it is termed, leads, in the trot as in the canter, equally well with either leg, but, in both paces, a very large majority have a favourite leading leg. By glancing over the right shoulder the time for the rise may be taken. Do not be disheartened by repeated failures to "catch on;" persevere, and suddenly you will hit it off. When the least fatigued, pull up into a walk, and when rested have another try. At the risk of repetition, I again impress on you the necessity of keeping the toe of the left foot pointed to the front, the foot itself back, and with the heel depressed. Your descent into the saddle should be such that any one you may be riding straight at, shall see a part of your right shoulder and hip as they rise and fall, his line of vision being directed along the off-side of the horse's neck. When these two portions of your body are so visible then the weight is in its proper place, and there is no fear of the saddle being dragged over the horse's near shoulder. For a few strides there is no objection to your taking a light hold of the pommel with the right hand, in order to time the rise, but the moment the "cross-jolt" ceases, and you find yourself moving in unison with the horse, the hold must be relaxed. Some difficulty will be found in remaining long enough out of the saddle at each rise to avoid descending too soon, and thus receive a double cross-jolt; but this will be overcome after a few attempts. Keep the hands well down and the elbows in.