CHAPTER XVIII.

HACKS AND HUNTERS.

I am wonderfully fond of a good hack, and very wroth at times that ladies will persist in mistaking the meaning of the term, and in thinking that it signifies something that is meant to be abused. They take this idea, I have no doubt, from expressions associated with their childhood: hacking out their clothes, for instance,--in other words, abusing them. “Don’t throw it away, it will do very well for a hack,” meaning for very hard usage on second or third-rate occasions. Such a thing as a _valuable_ hack, one not on any account to be subjected to rough treatment, they have never believed in, or, indeed, thought about at all. I was once bemoaning the loss of a favourite of this description to a lady acquaintance, and although she pretended to sympathise with me, I heard her, when I turned my back, say, “What a fuss over a thing that had _come_ to being a hack! Not worth fourpence, most likely.”

Now, it is for ladies who do not know much about hacks, yet who want to learn, that I am writing this chapter. The subject is a very useful one, and might be readily enlarged upon, but I shall be as concise as possible.

Hacks in the olden days were capable of immense hardship; the distances they travelled, the weights they carried, the amount of endurance they displayed, would be deemed marvellous in the present century, and cruel if put to the test. Such animals--and they are very rare--are only now to be met with in the stables of stirring farmers of the wealthy class, who go over their lands before breakfast, and overlook hundreds of acres on the backs of these useful creatures. Occasionally, too, they are to be found with country doctors, well-to-do parsons, and others whose daily work cannot be accomplished on animals less enduring or strong; but the ordinary seeker looks for them almost in vain.

A good hack is a most trustworthy companion. His rider may drop the reins to him on the very worst roads, and yet feel certain that he will put his feet in precisely the right places, and make no mistakes. His fore-feet are always well formed, and whatever the pace may be they fall straight, and flat, and even upon the ground. His action when trotting is from the shoulders, his fore-legs working strictly from them, and just sufficiently bent to enable the rider to see his knees as they are raised, but not to see under them. Chin-knocking action may do for a park hack, but not for a roadster; indeed, I don’t admire it myself in any class of horse, but in a covert-hack it is decidedly objectionable. The wonder of my life is how so many extraordinary goers, such as one sees throughout every hunting season, contrive to jig along, or jog, or pound, as the case may be, without coming down like logs upon the ground; but they do: just as drunken men, though staggering, manage to get home without a fall.

The paces of a thoroughly good hack are characterised by perfect regularity and ease; his shoulders are well set, sloping, and strong; his feet well formed, his back somewhat short, his loins muscular, and his hips wide. The shoulders at the withers are thick and firm--their tops well back--and a good long space between the pommel of the saddle and the termination of the mane.

Fore-leg action of the proper sort is an actual necessity in a hack intended for a lady to ride, because the safety of the rider is dependent upon it; but in selecting such an animal look to his hind-leg action as well. If the hock joints do not, when moving, seem _pliable_, and as though they were bent with perfect ease, bringing his hind legs _well_ forward, reject him at once, no matter how good his front action, or how perfect his forehand may appear.

Good hocks are clear, sharp, and well-defined in their outline, with bones large and prominent, denoting a similar condition of the muscles. When too much bent there is generally a liability to sprain, and when placed very far back there is, as a rule, an absence of propelling power. I like to see hocks in such a position as shows that they are right under the centre of gravity. This always enables a horse to propel himself with confidence, and to bring his hind-legs properly under him in the trot--at which pace they should be carried as far forward as they can well be, without hitting the fore-feet. An animal that sticks his hind toes in the ground, and walks gingerly, as though his hocks had not any joints, will never be safe or pleasant to ride. If he possesses strength and evenness of hind-leg action, his paces will always be agreeable. Good shoulder action and far-reaching hind legs will ensure delightful ease and pleasure to the rider. Racehorses, when trotting over turf, carry their hind feet far before the front ones--and outside them too, as I have proved by footprints--although some persons have flatly contradicted me about the matter.

I do not think that a covert hack ought to exceed fifteen hands in height. He should walk with ease and freedom, trot ten miles an hour, and canter fifteen, without any trouble, or blowing, or other symptoms of distress. Of course he cannot do this if his lungs are not as sound as bells, and his legs and feet perfectly healthy. I may say, however, that exhibitions of _pace_ are perfectly unnecessary; nobody really needs to gallop full tilt to covert--but light easy action, and reliable powers of endurance, ought not to be lightly esteemed. Beauty may be altogether dispensed with in the covert hack--although it is generally so coveted that buyers will often ignore many important defects on account of it. I don’t approve of this. I have seen most excellent hacks who had coarse heads, blemished bodies, rat tails, and other undeniably ugly attributes--but what mattered it, so long as they had perfections of a more important kind? Such animals are not wanted for show, as are their more gaudy brethren the park hacks.

I like to see the ribs of all riding-horses long in front of the girths, and short behind them. This keeps the saddle in the proper place, which it is hard to do (without the aid of the old-fashioned crupper) where the ribs in front are short.

The race of genuine covert hacks is, I am sorry to say, apparently fast dying out. Go, for instance, to any ordinary meet of hounds in almost any hunting country--you will see votaries of the chase arriving in every variety of vehicle: in phaetons, dogcarts, waggonettes, on drags and in broughams, on the backs of horses that they mean to hunt, on “general utility” animals, on fine park hacks, brought out to be admired and then cantered home again along the roadside grasses, or hand-galloped through the fields where convenient gates abound--but the number of real covert hacks will be very small indeed. I suppose the reason is, that in this troublous age, few (in Ireland at all events) can afford to indulge in luxuries, and a good hack _is_ one, in the very fullest sense of the term.

I do not believe, although many do, that it spoils a saddle horse to put him in harness. Were I rich enough to possess a number of hunters, I should drive them in a four-horse drag during the summer months, and I believe it would do them an immensity of good. A covert hack of the useful sort makes an excellent trapper, or one of a pair in a brougham or waggonette--nor does he lose any of his saddle qualities by being so made use of.

I may here say that, for country or covert riding, I do not at all approve of the ordinary half-bred cobs, which so many sportsmen, and some sporting ladies also, are prone to affect. No doubt they are strong: it is their only recommendation; but even this very strength is in one way an objection to them, for it is in many instances derived from a close connection with cart-horse blood, and on this account they very soon tire when trotting, and begin to step short, which occasions them to trip, and very often to come down. Besides, it is almost a matter of course that their shoulders are straight, and their fore-feet carried too far under them. In every way, therefore, I object to these animals for saddle use--especially where ladies are concerned.

Scarce as riding horses of endurance are in this country, there is no doubt whatever that we have the breed, and that it only requires careful cultivation--by which I mean _select_--in distant Colonies, where our road and rail luxuries are not, for love or money, to be obtained. In Southern Africa and distant Australia this has been proved, as also in the crosses of our horses with Continental ones, in Italy, Germany, and Spain.

I now come to speak about hunters. In choosing these, do not go in for outward beauty of form, for it will not stand you in any stead. I am compelled to impress this upon ladies--especially very young ones--because they usually select their horses (as they do their husbands!) for appearance more than for genuine worth. It is such a perfectly natural weakness that nobody can be blamed for it. Everybody likes “something to look at,” but there is more than this to be desired in many respects. I remember either reading somewhere, or hearing somebody say, that a hunter that combined high courage with so fine a temper that he would stand while his owner opened gates or remounted him after a fall--one that liked his trade, cried “Ha, ha!” at the sound of the huntsman’s horn, went generously at his fences as if he relished them, picked his places sensibly, had a good constitution, drank his gruel freely after the day’s work was over, would stand two ordinary days a week, and three good ones along with them in the course of a fortnight--was a treasure, even though he might have an ugly head, a ridiculous tail, an unfashionable colour, corns at times, and many skin-deep blemishes. In addition to all this, I may add that if he is a fairly good hack, and can trot or jog his ten or twelve miles home to his stable after a hardish day, he is simply an invaluable acquisition, especially to those who love sport, yet have not the good fortune to possess a sporting income.

It is rarely, however, that one is lucky enough to meet with so entirely desirable an animal, and _when_ found he certainly ought to be prized.

The essential points for a hunter are these: a good constitution, so that he may bear hardships and hard knocks; good powers of endurance, to enable him to stand long and tiresome days, and frequently to travel lengthy distances homewards; good shoulders, and strong healthy legs and feet. Further good points are, a back powerful enough to bear any weight that he is meant to carry; hind quarters with propelling powers to land him safely over his fences; a good chest, with lungs inside of it sufficiently sound to allow of his galloping without showing signs of distress; and good eyes to enable him to see where he is going.

Straight fore-legs, such as are shown in the illustration, are an absolutely essential quality--and they should emerge from the trunk with plenty of firm muscle as well as good fleshy substance. Legs that are too close together, or too far apart, are alike defective, and ought not to be overlooked.

A hunter for a lady’s use need not, as a rule, be over fifteen hands in height, or about 15·2 for a man of ordinary stature. Of course top-weights of either sex must have something proportionately big to carry them, but my experience is that clever hunters of 15·2 or 3 can negotiate even the biggest country with safety, and I believe there are a greater number of perfect fencers of that height than can be found among those above it. Small horses, whether hunters or steeplechasers, have distinguished themselves brilliantly from time to time all over the world, yet the rage for tall ones is very great. About ten years ago, at the Islington Horse Show, there were forty hunters (out of 100 entries) that were over 16 hands high, and they were among the very first sold, some of them to extremely diminutive purchasers. I was speaking about this a year or two ago to a dealer, and asking him his opinion respecting the cause, when he made me laugh by answering, “Well, you see, big horses makes big fences look a trifle smaller, and that’s something to them as rides.”

I have always considered it a good plan to select a hunter, with due regard to the country in which his purchaser intends to hunt. For example, if hilly, or composed of wide grass lands, or plough, good breeding will be decidedly essential, because with it good staying powers will be combined; if trappy, or difficult, requiring constant pulling up at fences and careful getting over, extreme cleverness will be far more valuable than blood. Even a broken-winded horse will, if cautious and clever, be more useful over such a country, than a flyer or very flippant jumper--because he can catch his wind between his efforts, and will not be likely to exhibit distress.

If you cannot count upon a horse’s pedigree, when looking for a blood one, you can generally judge him by his haunch. I think it an excellent test of breeding. A well-bred haunch and handsomely carried tail, impart a dignity of appearance which is unmistakable, and they are certainly far in advance of the rounded quarter and drooping caudal appendage which my sketch on the succeeding page represent.

Still further commendable points in a hunter are _long_ shoulders, high withers, broad hips, and loose flanks: this latter in order (as I have heard it expressed) that he may “dash” his haunches under him at the big jumps. He should have good shoulder action, but it matters little (as I have said) about that of the knees.

A hunter is thought to be in his prime at six years old, and if this be the case, every hunter in the kingdom--especially those with which dealers have anything to do--must be just arrived at that happy meridian, for surely no one has ever yet inquired the age of such an animal without being told that he was “just six year old,” or “rising” it. I have known some admirable hunters, however, who had passed the familiar landmark by four years or upwards; and in the west of Ireland I saw one, and rode him too, who was said to be eighteen years old, and certainly a finer fencer it has rarely been my lot to handle.

I do not, however, as a rule, recommend young horsewomen to purchase aged hunters. I have generally found them to be too crafty and clever, calculating their distances _too_ finely, and leaving themselves nothing at all to spare. Better mount a young rider on a young, generous goer, who will give himself a couple of feet or more over the mark.

Never judge of a hunter from seeing him jump in cold blood, because many animals that will perform calmly and collectedly over a schooling-ground, become so tremendously excited in the hunting-field that they are altogether beyond the powers of a lady to control. I need not say that horses of this class are not only unpleasant, but are highly dangerous mounts.

I always advise ladies who have invested in anything that they find disappointing--either a rusher, refuser, plunger, or anything else--to entrust him at once to thoroughly competent hands to break him of the vice. I believe largely in horse-dealing farmers of the straight-riding sort. A horse given up to one of these will be exercised about the lands through the summer months, taught to get slowly through gaps and over difficult fences, made to stand quietly to be mounted, and ridden temperately but with determination when hounds begin to run.

A hunter that pulls should never be made use of by a lady, but for my own riding I have always preferred an animal that gave me something to do to hold him, to one that stuck his head in the air and refused to take hold of his bridle. I don’t know anything that renders a lady more helpless in a quick run than a horse that is too light-mouthed, and that flings his head up every time he feels the action of the bit. I would not take a present of such a one for my own use.

It is an excellent plan for ladies to train their hunters to follow them when on foot. Suppose that in the course of a run you happen to come to some awfully cranky place: cramped, difficult, and highly dangerous to ride, you may find it pleasant and advisable to get off and scramble it, and your steed will follow you beautifully if you have him trained. It is quite easy to do it; accustom him to the tone of your voice, and if in the country take him out on summer evenings with a leading-rein and a pocketful of carrots. You will not have much difficulty after a while, and it is quite worth the trouble, even if you are disposed to think it such, which I never did.

There used long ago to be certain counties celebrated for good hunters. Ireland was, and is, _justly_ famous, both for breeding and training youngsters of a style fit for any hunting-field: but posts, telegraphs, and telephones have placed us far more on a level than we used to be, and I don’t believe that there is now anything like the advantage enjoyed by our fathers and grandfathers in purchasing direct from a breeder.

I may wind up by saying that no horse is worthy of being called a hunter that cannot be turned in a very small circle, that jumps with his hind-legs stretched out behind him, or that won’t at all events _attempt_ any fence at which his owner may wish to turn him.