Newcastle, after spending sixteen years in exile, lived to spend about the same length of time in England.

It might be expected that he would have taken up the position of a great Cavalier who had made larger financial sacrifices in the Royalist cause than almost any other of the King’s subjects, or that he would have posed as the hero of many battles. Instead of assuming any such position, however, Newcastle chose to figure as a man of letters, an author, a poet, and a playwright.

As an author, he had some claims to the position he desired; for he had written a standard work. During his exile he produced a book entitled A New Method and Extraordinary Invention to Dress Horses, and work them, According to Nature by the Subtlety of Art. This is mainly an exposition of what is known as the haute École of horsemanship; thus the most ponderous volume on what we now talk of as the French style of riding was written by an Englishman. It is a gorgeous folio, beautifully printed, splendidly illustrated; and a good copy is worth about ten guineas at the present moment. If it were a new book, modern booksellers would doubtless advertise it either as an “Édition de luxe,” or as “a sumptuous volume”.

One of the best editions is that by J. Brindley, London, 1743. That the book was a success, and a great success, the most malignant caviller at Newcastle cannot fairly deny.

The work is illustrated by Diepenbeke, whose representations in it of the Welbeck of those days, and of Bolsover Castle, have a special interest. Editions were published in London, Paris and Nuremberg, both in English and in French. In this magnificent volume the reader may learn how to train his horse to make curvets, pirouettes, demi-pirouettes, passades, voltes and demi-voltes, terms which may also be found in modern French books upon horsemanship.

Men who fancy that they know all about hunters may be surprised at their own ignorance when they read that “Your Hunter ... need not be kept ... to an exact regimen of diet: any clean food is fit for him”. If a horse’s wind is broken, it is a simple matter to mend it again by feeding him on fat bacon, sweet oil, and brandy figs, or by dosing him with small shot, pounded in a mortar and mixed with sulphur. Among other remedies for the horse will be found “A receipt for ruined nerves,” as well as “A remedy for the head-ach,” a malady seldom complained of in modern stables.

No notice of the life of Newcastle would be complete without a few quotations from the book with which his name is chiefly associated. Let us begin with a description “Of the true Seat and the necessary Actions of a good horseman.[154] Before a horseman mounts, he ought first to take care that all his horse’s furniture be in order, which is soon done, without prying into every minute circumstance, to show himself an affected connoisseur in the art. When he is seated (for I take it for granted that everyone knows how to mount a horse)”—a large assumption—“he ought to sit upright upon the twist, and not upon the buttocks, though most people think they were made by nature to sit upon; however it is not so on horseback.

“When he is thus placed upon his twist in the middle of the saddle, he ought to advance, as much as he can, towards the pommel, leaving a hand’s breadth between his backside and the arch of the saddle, holding his legs perpendicular, as when he stands upon the ground, and his knees and thighs turned inwards towards the saddle, keeping them as close as if they were glued to the saddle; for a horseman has nothing else but this, together with the balance of his body, to keep himself on horseback. He ought to fix himself firm upon his stirrups, with his heels a little lower than his toes, so that the ends of his toes may pass about half an inch beyond the stirrup, or something more. He should keep his hams stiff, having his legs neither too near, nor too distant from the horse; that is to say, they should not touch the horse’s sides, because of the aids which shall afterwards be explained.

“He ought to hold the reins in his left hand, separating them with his little finger, holding the rest in his hand, having the thumb upon the reins, which should be held strait over the horse’s neck.

“He should have a slender switch in his hand, not too long, like a fishing rod, nor too short, like a bodkin; but rather short than long, because there are many useful aids with a short one, that a long one will not admit of. The handle of it ought to be a little beyond the hand, not only for the sake of caressing the horse with it, but likewise to hold it the faster. The right hand, that holds the switch, ought to advance a little before the bridle hand, with the small end of the switch pointing to the inside.

“The rider’s breast ought to be in some measure advanced, his countenance pleasant and gay, but without a laugh, pointing directly between his horse’s ears as he moves forward. I don’t mean, that he should fix himself stiff like a post, or that he should sit upon a horse like a statue; but, on the contrary, that he should be in a free and easy position, as it is expressed in dancing with a free air. Therefore I would have a Gentleman appear on horseback without stiffness or formality, which rather savours of the scholar than the master, and I could never observe such a formality, without conceiting the rider to look awkward and silly.

“A good seat is of such importance, as you will see hereafter, that the regular movement of a horse entirely depends upon it, which is preferable to any other assistance; therefore let it not be despised. Moreover I dare venture to affirm, that he who does not sit genteely upon a horse, will never be a good horseman. As to the management of the bridle-reins and caveson, I will teach you more concerning them in the following discourse than has been hitherto known.”

Here is some safe advice.[155]

“The Way I took to reduce a Horse, that was extreamly Resty.

“A Horse’s restiness, when it is in a high degree, does not consist only in his refusing to advance, but also in his opposition to the rider, in every thing he possibly can, and with the utmost malice.... One must endeavour therefore to gain the horse; for the perfection of a well-managed horse consists in his following the will of his rider, so that the will of both shall be the same.... Violent methods will not do. For when the horseman thinks himself victorious, he is deceived, etc., etc. If the rider begins again to beat and spur the horse will resist again; it is not the beast then that is vanquished, but the man, who is the greater brute of the two.... The whole therefore is to make the horseman and his horse friends.

“If you can’t gain your point one way, you must have recourse to another. You would make your horse advance, and he to defend himself against you runs back; at that instant pull him back with all your strength, and if to oppose you he advances, immediately force him briskly forwards. If you would turn to the right, and he endeavours to turn to the left, pull him round to the left as suddenly as possible: if you would turn him to the left, and he insists on the right, turn him as smartly to the right as you are able.... If he would rise,” probably the author means rear, “make him rise two or three times.” A very, very dangerous piece of advice! “In a word, follow his inclinations in everything, and change as often as he. When he perceives there can be no opposition, but that you always will the same thing as he, he will be amazed, he will breathe short, snuff up his nose, and won’t know what to do next.”

In these days, we are apt to consider good hands and the skilful use of the bridle of the utmost possible importance in horsemanship. Newcastle was of a different opinion.

“The bridle,” he says,[156] “I confess, is of some use, tho’ but little; art avails much more, as all your excellent riders well know; for I have managed a horse with a halter only, and he went as well as with the bridle.... I have also managed an English one with a scarf, and made him curvet and vault very justly.”

Yet he tells us, later, that, in addition to his favourite curb, with a high port and rings on it, and appallingly long cheeks to the bit—a bridle about which the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals would have something to say, were it used in these days—he liked to have a caveson on his horse’s nose, with the reins fastened to the pommel of his saddle. By the way, in an illustration, the saddle which he says cannot possibly be improved upon, looks more like an elephant’s howdah than the saddle of a horse.

Here is some queer anatomy with some still queerer inference from it.

The horse’s[157] “fore-legs are made like those of a man, having his knee bending forward; and his hind-legs like a man’s arm, having the sinews of his ham bending backwards, which is diametrically opposite to the former. If the hind-legs of a horse bent in the same manner as those before, he would walk upright like a man; but his hind-legs bending contrary, they resemble the arm of a man, and his fore-legs bend as ours, which makes him go upon all four; and there is no other reason for beasts going upon all four, with their bellies to the ground.”

Newcastle apparently did not realise that a man’s wrist corresponds to a horse’s knee, and a man’s heel to a horse’s hock.

The following extract will show hunting-men how little they know about leaping:—

“For Leaping-horses, there are four several airs, which are Croupades, Balotades, Caprioles, and a Step and a Leap....

“Croupades is a leap where the horse pulls up his hinder legs, as if he drew or pulled them up into his body.

“Balotades is a leap where the horse offers to strike out with his hinder legs, but doth not, and makes only an offer or half strokes; showing only the shoes of his hinder legs, but doth not strike, only makes an offer, and no more.

“Caprioles is a leap, that when the horse is at the full height of his leap he yerks, or strikes out his hinder legs, as near and as even together, and as far out as ever he can stretch them, which the French call nouËr l’aiguilette, which is, to tie the point.”

It is a pity that the Duke does not inform his readers which of the “four several airs” of “the leaping-horse” are respectively most suitable for the negotiation of oxers, bulfinches and brooks.

In training the horse to make demi-pirouettes, demi-voltes, etc., not content with the powerful curb, the caveson with its reins fastened to the pommel of the saddle, and having the horse’s head tied by a rope to a pole fixed in the ground, Newcastle would have his rider wear terrible spurs on his heels and carry a poinson, which was a “short stick with an iron point at one end of it,” in his hand. And, as if even all this were not enough, he would have two men on foot to “help” the horse, one with a switch in his hand and the other with a “Scourge”. By these gentle means, he tells us, horses may acquire “airs built only of art”.

Let us next learn something about curvets.[158]

“To work a horse in Curvets backwards upon the Voltes.

“The pillar being on the right side, to the right you must advance your breast and pull in your belly, your bridle-hand on the contrary side, putting it very much out and back each time, and helping at the same time with the opposite leg. This is to make him go in a circle; but all the aids must be given in the right time. The rein and contrary leg here works the horse’s croupe, and his shoulders are at liberty.”

Here we have a highly scientific description of “Curvets upon the Voltes, sideways”.[159]

“The horse’s hind-legs that are out ought to follow the fore-legs that are in, neither more in nor more out; the fore-legs however are within the lines of the hind ones, since they are narrower. The pillar or center is without the head of the horse when you work the croupe out, for which reason his fore-legs describe the smallest circles, and those behind the largest. The fore-leg within the volte describes the least of the two smaller, and the other fore-leg the largest of them. The hind-leg within the volte describes the least of the larger circles, and the other without the volte the greatest.”

It is pleasant to contemplate what the face of a British groom would be like if the above instructions were given to him before getting into the saddle.

Let not the conceited modern horseman smile at any of these quotations from Newcastle’s great book.

He was a professor of a style of horsemanship which went out of fashion in this country long ago, but culminated in France some two hundred years later than the days of Newcastle, under those two great masters of the Haute École, Baucher and Captain Raabe.

It was not only in the pirouetting and demi-volting of horses that Newcastle interested himself. After the Restoration, he went on the Turf; although it is doubtful whether he raced except at Welbeck.[160] Near that place he established a race-course, where he held no less than six meetings in the year, and the races at them were run under special rules of his own making.

Some years earlier (in 1659) he had denied all knowledge of racing—or horse-coursing, as he called it—in a letter to Nicholas (Egerton MSS., British Museum). “It is two professions, a good horseman and a Horse courser. I pretend to the first, but know nothing of the second, for I’ll cozen nobody; I only take care not to be cozened.”