Part 8

"+Wm. Yorke Moore+, Major-Gen."

"P.S. During the fall I stuck to my horse."

The details of this astonishing accident are very shortly as follows:--

Colonel Moore, while commanding the troops in Dominica, lost his way one evening after sunset.

As, in utter darkness, he was endeavouring to get home, he came to several little imperceptible objects which he forced his horse to cross. Shortly afterwards the animal stopped at one which he seemed particularly afraid of.

The soldier, unwilling to halt between two opinions, but, on the contrary, determined to proceed as he thought straight towards his home, at almost full speed rode at the unknown impediment several times in vain, until the animal, surrendering his instinctive fears, and possibly knowledge, to the spurs that were propelling him, with a violent jump into the air cleared the little low hedge, for such it proved to be, bounding that awful precipice which, like a wall, connected the upper story or table-land of the island with the ocean which in solemn darkness reigned beneath it.

Colonel Moore states that during his passage on horseback through the air, almost every event of his life, large as well as small, at about the rate of the electric telegraph, which transmits its ideas one hundred and eighty thousand miles in a second, flashed across his mind as distinctly and as vividly as if they were recurring.

By a sort of clairvoyance, of which in medical annals there exist recorded several similar instances, he saw all that in his lifetime he had done or left undone, and was thinking, seriatim, of almost every friend and relative, when, in an instant, all these bright fiery thoughts on the past, present, or future tenses of his existence became extinguished by a concussion which, depriving him of his senses, left him with his legs in the sea and his body on the rocks, apparently dead.

While lying, corpse-like, in this lonely state, whose beneficent hand was it that all of a sudden dashed upon his face the cool, fresh soft water that recovered him? Whose voice was it that, almost at the same moment, explained to him, not only the accident which had befallen him, but the time that had elapsed since it occurred?

The hand that restored to him his senses was that which had already graciously placed his head in safety upon the rock above the ocean that would have drowned him, but in which his feet had been harmlessly floating. It was the hand that had just created the tropical shower which, as if administered to him by an angel, awakened him from his swoon.

It was the hand that, "in the beginning," when the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep, had created that "lesser light to rule the night," which, just before he fell, he had observed rising from the horizon, but which now, shining above his head, upon four upturned glittering horse-shoes (all he could see of his mangled beast), made known to him, at a glance, that what had evidently befallen him, according to the illuminated clock in the heavens, must have occurred many hours ago.

With cool presence of mind, Colonel Moore, after making several experimental movements, ascertained that he was severely cut about the body and head; that his right ankle was dislocated, and that his back was benumbed or paralysed by the concussion of his fall. As soon, however, as the long wished-for sun rose, it shone upon his bare, bleeding head with such excruciating force, that, as a protection from its rays, he transferred his cotton neckerchief to his scalp and forehead, leaving sticking up above them the two ends, which, like the remainder, were stained with his red blood.

After remaining in extreme pain for several hours, to his great joy he saw a boat full of sable natives rowing towards the spot on which, in the head-dress just described, he was reclining. As soon as they came near to him, in a faint tone he hailed them. On hearing his voice, for a few moments they looked eagerly around in all directions, until they espied him, when, instantly, just as if they had seen and were pursued by an evil spirit, away they rowed at their utmost speed.

After a considerable interval another black man came clambering over the rocks, intent only on catching fish.

As soon, however, as his eyes caught a glimpse of the poor sufferer's bloody head and head-gear, the fisherman was evidently seized with the same impression, and, accordingly, in a paroxysm of fear, chucking his rod and line upwards to fall into the sea, as fast as his hands and feet could carry him, he also, in his way, scrambled out of sight.

After a long, painful interval, Colonel Moore's servant, who, alarmed by his master not having returned, had for many hours been in search of him, at last tracked his horse's feet to the edge of the precipice, and on looking over it, seeing about half way down a pockethandkerchief sticking in the boughs of a small projecting tree, he returned to the barracks, gave the alarm, and accordingly, as soon as a boat could be procured, the soldiers, who rushed forward to man it, proceeded round the rocks, until Colonel Moore (who knew nothing of his servant's discovery) joyfully saw them pulling, as hard as they could lay to their oars, towards him.

It need scarcely be added that, regardless of the overwhelming heat of the sun, the gallant fellows succeeded in conveying their commanding officer on their shoulders to the barracks, where he lay for some months in great pain and danger.

However, in due time, the paralysed muscles of his back recovered their tone, and eventually, without even being lame, he became completely restored to the health, activity, and energy that had always characterised him.

For a considerable time portions of his saddle, strips of the hide and the broken bones of his horse, which, lacerated by the branches of the trees through which the poor animal had fallen, was literally smashed to atoms, were collected by people, who amassed a considerable amount of money by exhibiting and selling them as relics in evidence of one of the most extraordinary accidents that, under the superintending direction of Divine Providence, has ever been survived by man.

+Mode of riding at Timber.+

In getting rapidly across a difficult country there are two sorts of fences, each of which has to be jumped in a manner the very opposite of that required by the other. A young hunter will leap almost any ordinary fence, particularly if it be broad, as well, and, from his impetuosity, often better than an old one. But there is one description of barrier, called by hunting men "timber" (that is to say stiles, gates, and rails, that cannot be broken), which requires, in both rider and horse, a great deal more discretion than valour: indeed of "timber" it may truly be said that it is the most dangerous and, on the other hand, the safest fence a man can ride at.

If a young horse, highly excited, be ridden fast for the first time in his life at a gate, it is very likely he will clear it; on the other hand, it is quite certain that if, despising bars through which he can see daylight, he resolves to break the top one, the penalty attached to his mistake will be a very heavy one: indeed nothing can be more disagreeable to a rider and frightful to look at than the result. Now, of course, the obvious way of preventing this catastrophe is simply to teach a horse--firstly, that he cannot break timber,--and secondly, that he will have to suffer acute pain if he attempts to do so. Accordingly, away from hounds and under no excitement, he should be slowly ridden over two or three low rails that will not break, with an unexpected little twitch at his rein sufficient to make them severely strike his hind legs. The moment this is effected the rider should jump off, to allay anything like excitement, and to allow the animal, who will probably stand lifting up the injured leg, to feel, appreciate, and reflect on the whole amount of the pain he has incurred. As soon as it has subsided, he should be again quietly ridden two or three times over the offending rails, which, it will then be found, nothing can induce him to touch; and having thus, at a small cost, purchased for himself very valuable experience, he may afterwards in the hunting-field be carefully made to jump any ordinary amount of timber.

A sportsman can hardly ride too slowly at high timber; for as height and width (that is to say to jump upwards or forwards) require different efforts, it is a waste of the poor animal's powers to make him do both when one only is required. In slowly trotting up to timber of any height or description, the rider should carefully abstain from attempting, by the bridle, to give his horse the smallest assistance. On the contrary, the moment the animal begins to rise, his reins should be loosened, to be drawn up and tightened only as he descends. With the single exception we shall soon notice, this principle of self-management applies to jumps of all sorts and sizes; for although, by a firm management of his bridle, a hunter ought to be made to feel as he approaches a fence that it is utterly impossible for him to swerve from it, yet the instant he is on the brink of taking it, his reins, as if by paralysis, should suddenly cease to afford him the smallest help, or to interfere with the mode in which (with only half a second to think) he may determine to deal with it. If he expects assistance, it may arrive a little sooner or a little later than his patience or impatience approves of, and thus between two stools (his own will and that of his rider) both come to the ground; whereas, if he knows that he has nothing to rely on but himself, he rises at his timber in the best and safest possible manner--namely, in his own way.

If we should have succeeded in satisfying our readers that they cannot ride too slowly at timber, we trust they will pardon us if we now endeavour to enforce upon them as an equally immutable axiom, that it is impossible for them to ride too fast at water.

+Water Jumping.+

Throughout England, and especially in Leicestershire and Northamptonshire, there are two descriptions of brooks. In one the water is about a foot or two below the level of the green fields through which it peacefully meanders. In the other, though deep enough to drown a man, it flows and occasionally rushes ten or twelve feet below the surface, between two loamy banks as perpendicular as the wall of a house. If a red, brown, or black coat, attended by a pair of leather, kersey, or corduroy breeches, ending in boots, plunge together into the first, they simply go in dry and come out wet. But, if a horse fails to clear the chasm, he is liable not only to fall backwards upon these articles of apparel, but afterwards, quite unintentionally, to strike their owner during the awkward struggles of both animals to swim.

Now, although to some of our readers it may possibly appear that the act of riding over "a bit of water" of the latter description has no legal claim to be included in the schedule headed "the pleasures and amusements of man," yet it may most truly be said that in a good run, or even in a bad one, there exists nothing that gives an ordinary rider more intense pleasure than the sight, say a quarter of a mile before him, of those well-known willows that indicate to him the line of beauty of the brook he is shortly to have the enjoyment of encountering--provided always that he knows his horse to be, what is justly called, "good at water." On the other hand, it would be quite impossible to describe into how very small a compass the same man's heart would gradually collapse, as it approached the very same brook, on what is just as truly termed "a brute at water." In any other description of fence the rider, if he has not ruined his horse's courage by vacillation of hand or heart, may confidently rely that he will accomplish it for him if he can, and if it cannot be accomplished, that he will try to jump through or over it, or, generally speaking, a good deal more than humanity dares to ride at.

If the bull-finch be too strong, the hunter may stick in it, or forcing through it into the ditch on the other side, may leave his owner hanging like a bird's-nest in its branches. An ox-fence--composed of two ditches, a bank, a pair of hedges, and a stiff, low, oak rail--may altogether prove too broad to be cleared. Timber also may be too high to be topped; yet, in all these cases, if the rider be but willing, the noble horse is always ready, ay, eager, to do his very best, and many a broken back and prostrate carcase, divested of its saddle and bridle, has been the melancholy result; and yet, with all this superabundance of high courage, almost every horse instinctively dislikes to jump water, an element which (until by a good rider it has been unbewitched) he appears to conceive to be forbidden to him to cross. For this reason, before a sportsman can ride with confidence at a brook, he requires not only a stout horse, but to know what sort of a heart lived beneath the waistcoat of the man by whom the animal was last hunted, for however badly bred he may be, he may have been made bold at water; while, on the other hand, however high-bred and handsome he may appear, however splendidly and cleverly he may throughout the run have been crossing single and double fences of every variety, yet, by an irresolute pair of hands, he may have been spoiled at water. Accordingly, when a gallant fox, followed after a short interval by a pack of hounds and a large scattered body of men and horses, passing like the shadows of summer clouds over the beautiful green sward of Northamptonshire, glide rapidly towards a brook, there occasionally appears among several of them a sudden transmigration of hearts and bodies, which to a foreigner, who did not understand the reason, would appear to be utterly inexplicable.