Part 6

2. If a domestic horse that has been handled, fondled, but never ridden, be suddenly saddled and mounted, the rider has greater difficulties to encounter than those just described: for the animal is not only gifted by nature with all the propensities of the wild horse to reject man, but, from being better fed, he has greater strength to indulge in them; besides which he enjoys the immense advantage of being in a civilized, or, in plainer terms, an enclosed country. Accordingly, instead of being forced to run away, his rider is particularly afraid lest he should do so, simply because he knows that the remedy which would cure the wild horse, would probably kill him. In fact, the difference to the rider between an open and an enclosed field of battle is exactly that which a naval officer feels in scudding in a gale of wind out of sight of land, and in being caught among sandbanks and rocks in a narrow channel.

3. Of all descriptions of horses, wild and tame, by far the most difficult to ride is that young British thorough-bred colt of two or three years old that has been regularly "broken in" by himself, without giving the slightest warning, to jump away sideways, spin round, and at the same moment kick off his rider. The feat is a beautiful and well-arranged combination of nature and of art. Like the pugilistic champion of England--Tom Sayers--he is a professional performer, gifted with so much strength and activity, and skilful in so many quick, artful tricks and dodges, that any country practitioner who comes to deal with him is no sooner up than down, to rise from his mother earth with a vague, bewildered, incoherent idea as to what had befallen him, or "how he got there."

If a horse of this description and a wild one were to be mounted simultaneously, each by an equally good rider, in an unenclosed, uncultivated region, both the quadrupeds probably at the same moment would be seen to run away: the Briton for ever, to gain his liberty; the other quadruped, just as surely, to lose it!

Having now sufficiently discussed the character and conduct of the horse, we will presume to offer, or rather to bequeath to our readers, a very few observations as regards his rider.

+Seat on a Horse.+

The best position of a man on horseback is, of course, that which is most agreeable to both animals, and which, from its ease and flexibility, as they skim together over the surface of the earth, apparently combines them into one.

Like everything in Nature, the variety of seats is infinite. They may, however, generically be divided into two classes:

1. In the great plains of South America, in which it may truly be stated that for every male inhabitant above five or six years of age Nature maintains at no cost, no tax, and at no trouble to him, a stud of horses whose number is legion, the rider sits almost perpendicularly, with the great toe of each foot resting very lightly on, and often merely touching its small triangular stirrup, his legs grasping the horse's sides slightly or tightly, as prosperous or adverse circumstances may require.

In this attitude, which may be said to be that of standing astride over rather than sitting upon the saddle, the pivot upon which the rider, gracefully bending his body with a ball and socket movement, turns--in throwing his lasso, in thrusting his lance forwards on either side, or in looking behind him--is what is termed by sporting men his "fork."

In the few instances where pistols are carried, they are affixed behind the right thigh, firstly, that in the common occurrence of the horse falling in his gallop, they may not prevent the rider from rolling clear away from him; and, secondly, because in that position the weapons are close to the rider's right hand, which, as he flies along, is to be seen always dangling just above the but ends, ready to grasp them the instant they are required.

This attitude is not only highly picturesque, but particularly easy to the rider, who, while partaking of the undulating motion of his horse, can rest his wearied body by slight imperceptible changes of position on the pivot or "fork," on which, like corn waving in the wind, it bends.

The British cavalry sit astride above their saddles very nearly in this attitude, which, as we have just explained, enables them with great facility to cut, or give point in front, right or left, at cavalry or at infantry; and if they were not embarrassed by their clothing, as well as by their accoutrements, and if, as in the region to which we have alluded, they were to use no pace but the gallop, each would soon become, or rather he could not help apparently becoming, part and parcel of his horse. But our gallant men, although they have been subjected to innumerable experimental changes of dress, &c., continue not only hampered and imperilled by a hard cloak, holsters, and carbine affixed in front of their thighs, and imprisoned, especially round their necks, within tight clothing, but their travelling pace, the trot (a jolting movement unknown and unheard of in the plains of South America), gives to their body and limbs a rigidity painful to look at, and in long journeys wearisome to man and horse. Indeed in the French cavalry, and occasionally in our own, the manner in which the soldier, in not a bad attitude, is seen hopping high into the air, on and off his saddle, as his horse, at apparently a different rate, trots beneath him, forms as ridiculous a caricature of the art of riding as the pencil of our Punch's "Leech" could possibly delineate.

2. Throughout the United Kingdom, civilians of all classes, gentlemen, farmers, and yeomen, especially those who occasionally follow the hounds, adopt what is commonly called "the hunting seat," in which, instead of "the fork," the knees form the pivot, or rather hinge, the legs beneath them the grasp, while the thighs, like the pastern of a horse, enable the body above to rise and fall as lightly as a carriage on its springs.

In this attitude the rider cannot turn his body to the right or left, or look behind him as easily as he could revolve upon his "fork."

For rough riding, however, of every description, the hunting seat, though infinitely less graceful, is superior to that of the cavalry of Europe, for the following reasons:--

One of the most usual devices by which a horse endeavours to, and but too often succeeds in dislodging his rider, is by giving to his back, by a sudden kick, a jerk upwards, which, of course, forces in the same direction towards the sky that nameless portion of humanity which was partly resting on it, and which in the cavalry cannot possibly get very far away from it.

But, in the hunting seat, the instant the rider expects such a kick, by merely rising in his stirrups he at once raises or abstracts from the saddle the point his enemy intends to attack, and accordingly the blow aimed at it fails to reach it.

Again, on approaching a large fence, by the same simple precaution, the rider entirely avoids the concussion of that sudden jerk or effort necessary to enable the horse to clear it. In a fall, the pommel of the saddle and the horse's neck and head are much easier cleared by short stirrup-leathers than by long ones. Lastly, in a common trot, the former soften the jolt, which the latter cannot easily avoid. In short, in a hunting seat, the rider, to his great comfort and relief, rests more or less on his saddle as long as he likes, and yet, the instant he anticipates a blow from it, leaves it, without metaphor ... behind him.

Of horsemanship it may truly be said, that about four-fifths of the art depend on attaining a just seat, and one-fifth on possessing a pair of light hands. But although the attainment of these advantages is not incompatible with an easy, erect position on horseback, the generality of riders are but too apt to sit on their horses in the bent attitude of the last paroxysm or exertion which helped them into the saddle. Now, when a man in this toad-like position rides along--say a macadamized road--he travels always ready, at a moment's notice, to proceed by himself in the direction in which he is pointing, in case the progress of his horse should be suddenly stopped by his falling down. Indeed, when a horse, without falling down, recovers by a violent struggle from a bad trip, a heavy rider in this attitude (called by Sir Bellingham Graham "a wash-ball seat") is very liable to shoot forwards over his head in a parabolic curve, ending in a concussion of his brain or in the dislocation of his neck,--the horse standing by his motionless body perfectly uninjured.

On the other hand, when a man sits upright, justly balanced on his saddle, any sudden jerk or movement forwards throws his shoulders backwards. If therefore, while proceeding in that position, the horse thinks proper to fall, the animal in the first instance is the sole sufferer. He cuts his forehead, hurts his nose, breaks his knees, bruises his chest, while his head, neck, fore-legs, and the forepart of his body, forced into each other like the joints of a telescope, form a buffer, preventing the concussion the horse has received, from injuring, in the smallest degree, the rider, or even the watch in his pocket, which, without being ejected from the saddle, goes ticking, ticking, ticking on, just as merrily as if nothing had happened. If he only trips, a rider poised justly in his saddle can easily recover him.

A horse will not only refrain from treading upon any creature lying on the ground, but in hunting he will make the utmost possible effort to avoid putting a foot upon his master whenever

"On the bare earth exposed he lies."

If, however, his owner, from a bad seat or from false precaution, has suddenly thrown himself from his back, it is often impossible for the animal, while struggling to recover from a desperate trip, to avoid either trampling upon or violently striking him.

For this reason a rider should never abandon his saddle so long as his horse beneath it has a leg, or an infinitesimal part of one, to stand on. But so soon as his downfall is announced by that heavy, thundering concussion against the ground, the meaning of which it is impossible to mistake, the partnership should instantaneously be dissolved by the horseman rolling, if possible, out of harm's way.

But it occasionally happens not only that the horse rolls too, but that the larger roller overtakes the smaller one, the two lying prostrate, with the legs in boots under the body whose limbs wear only shoes.

If the rider happens fortunately to have the saddle between him and the horse, his legs merely sustain a heavy weight, from which they are harmlessly extricated the instant the animal rises.

Should he happen unfortunately to have the girths between him and the horse, he lies, like Ariel in the cloven pine, "painfully imprisoned," in a predicament of which it is impossible for any one to foretell the results.

As the quadruped is always more or less cowed by his fall, he remains usually for about a minute or two as still as if he were dead.