Riding for Ladies: With Hints on the Stable

CHAPTER VII. BITTING.

Having now provided yourself with a suitable mount for road and park purposes, and likewise a supply of riding apparel sufficient to answer all purposes until you come to hunt, it will be necessary for you to turn your attention to the interesting subjects of bitting, saddling, and general turning out. These things ought of necessity to precede the actual riding—for you certainly cannot mount your steed until he has been saddled and bridled, and to know how to accomplish this yourself is in the highest degree important.

In the present day, when equestrianism is not only a popular amusement but amounts almost to a craze, it is astonishing to find the amount of ignorance that prevails among riders upon subjects with which they ought to be at least tolerably well acquainted, before laying claim to the terms “horsemen” and “horsewomen.” In no department that I can think of, or name, is this lamentable want of knowledge so clearly displayed as in the important one of bitting. That ladies are not, as a rule, very conversant with the subject is scarcely to be wondered at, for most lady-riders give no thought to anything on earth save the pleasure of the motion, and the fit of their habits and gloves. They have undergone a certain description of superficial training, which just enables them to know how to sit, and how to hold the reins between their fingers, but the real pleasure of being thoroughly en rapport with their mount—knowing what bit he will go best in, and feeling conscious that he is not enduring torture from being wrongly bridled or saddled—are things altogether denied them. It is precisely the same principle on which ladies execute showy pieces on the piano, without at the same time having the smallest knowledge of the theory of music, or any idea of why it is that pressure upon the pedals is capable of altering the sound. It is a sorry fact, but a certain one, that nine-tenths of the ladies who ride in the Row—pulling equally, as they often do, upon both reins—would stare at you in helpless amazement, or blush “celestial rosy red,” if asked to describe the difference in action between the curb bit and the snaffle. They do not know. Nobody has ever told them, because it has never occurred to them to ask. They are simply aware that there are two leathers, attached by some unknown means to the horse’s head, and that they are supposed to hold these nicely between their fingers, and look as charming as they can; but what the leathers are for, or why there are two of them, or yet, why some other ladies of their acquaintance ride with a single rein while they have been given a double one, are things of which they have not the very faintest notion. Lip-straps, cheek-pieces, throat-lashes, ports, cannons, &c., terms with which even moderately skilled horsewomen are familiar—have never been so much as heard of, or even inquired about. The existence of this species of ignorance among lady-riders is not hearsay. I speak from practical knowledge, having proved it upon many different occasions. “Pooh, nonsense; what do I care about your old leathers!” laughed a merry-hearted Cork girl to whom I was once striving to explain some necessary matters; “I just hold on, and let the beast carry me—and what more on earth do I want?” And away she went, helter-skelter, after the hounds, as she spoke—holding on, true enough, to both reins, with a good firm grip; and the beast did carry her, to some purpose too, up to a big drain—and finding his mouth unfairly dealt with in the taking-off, landed her deftly into it, and ungallantly galloped away.

With men—those who ride, I mean—ignorance concerning bitting ought never to exist, yet I have been fairly astounded at finding out how very little many of them know about the matter. An officer, who was considered a good man to hounds, and who owned a couple of racers to boot, looked actually quite puzzled when it was observed to him one day that he was riding his hunter in a very severe bit (a saw-mouth bridoon, attached to a snaffle), and said, “By George, I don’t know. I suppose my confounded servant put some queer thing or another on him, for the beggar won’t go a yard!” He had actually mounted his horse and set out for a day’s hunting without so much as casting a glance at the animal’s head. Nor was his by any means an isolated case.

Now a practical word or two about some of the bridles most generally in use—beginning with the common, smooth-jointed snaffle, which has ever been my favourite bit. This, when sufficiently wide and large, forms an absolutely perfect bridle, and its action is extremely simple, restraining the horse by pressure on the bars of the mouth when his head is carried more or less perpendicularly, and on the corners when the head is lifted or lowered. Owing to the centre of the mouthpiece being jointed, there is very little pressure on the tongue, which is one of the many points in favour of this admirable bridle.

COMMON SNAFFLE.

The common snaffle must not in any wise be confounded with the ringed-snaffle which has a noseband attached to the inner rings, kept in place by pieces of leather stitched round them and brought under the ends of the cheeks. It may be made to act severely by drawing one pair of reins tight and sharp, thus causing all the pressure to concentrate upon the horse’s nose—and is then called a Newmarket snaffle.

I append sketches of a common jointed snaffle, the easiest and nicest bit that a thoroughly-trained horse can possibly go in, and also a double-ringed one, such as I have just described. The latter is frequently used by men when breaking young horses in Irish hunting-fields, and is very useful when servants have to be entrusted with the handling of animals, for, severe though it may be made, it cannot spoil a horse’s mouth so easily as can any description of curb.

RINGED SNAFFLE.

There is not among the whole range of bits any so mild or suitable to a learner as the common snaffle. Captain Horace Hayes, writing to me on the subject, says: “The more imperfect the rider, the greater the necessity for using a snaffle bridle; but this,” he adds, “goes without saying. Persons are at times found to express such mad ideas about horses and bitting that to reply to them is only to encourage their folly.”

A big smooth bridoon (with or without horns), and a solid Portmouth bit and curb, will be found a capital hunting bridle. It has always been a favourite with me for horses that do not want to get their tongues over the bit, and where this objectionable habit does not exist, the common-jointed snaffle or Pelham will be found very nice also. In using it, however, you must see that the headstall is long enough for the pressure to lie on the bars of the horse’s mouth. This should always be looked to by the rider. If it has a tendency to crumple the lips at the corners, it is wrong, and partakes of the nature of a gag.

JOINTED PELHAM.

The Pelham bridle finds many advocates: Major Whyte Melville liked it, for instance,—and for showing off paces (if this alone be desired), I approve of the Hanoverian Pelham, but not particularly for anything else. The Newmarket snaffle is a capital bit for pullers, and the American snaffle with india-rubber mouthpiece is a pleasant bridle, largely used in the States for trotting purposes. The Segundo, formerly a great favourite, is a very powerful controller—while the Melton mouth-bit is deservedly a prime favourite with many riders. The Liverpool is greatly used for harness, and seems to have quite superseded the old Buxton, the bottom bar of which made it uncomfortably liable to catch on the pole-end or shaft.

SEGUNDO.

MELTON BIT AND BRIDOON.

I dislike seeing a gag employed, and consider it altogether unnecessary, except for a buck-jumper, or an animal who determinately “bores” his head in a downward position; nor am I at all in favour of the twisted snaffle, which is a very severe bit, and does not answer any purpose, so far as I have ever been able to make out, that the chain-snaffle cannot be made to fulfil; for if severity be required, it can be obtained by twisting the chain before putting it into the horse’s mouth. I hate to see it, however, and never would permit its use in my own stables, except in the case of some animal that was known to be of an unusually fractious, or, I might say, evil temper. Severity in bitting is, in my opinion, very rarely necessary; and taking into account the cruelty of it, I dislike it excessively, and always cry it down.

LIVERPOOL.—FOR HARNESS ONLY.

CAMBRIDGE BIT.

I saw a man in Cheshire, when the Empress of Austria was hunting there, riding in a terrible bridle. He had a strong, wiry rope-bit attached to the horns of an ordinary snaffle—and it must have been frightfully severe, for the horse’s mouth was bleeding at both corners. I remarked to the Kaiserin that it was no wonder she was anxious to get away from that part of the country, if her sensitive eyes were often thus shocked. She looked at the man—at the horse—at the man again—and then said one word—“Brute!” It was certainly expressive, and concise,—and she spoke it in right sound English too, which I thought a very good thing.

The ordinary term “bit and bridoon” means simply a curb and a snaffle. The latter has been already explained. The common curb is merely a mouthpiece attached to two cheeks, and is curved in the centre, forming what is called a “port,” while a chain is attached to the cheeks in such a way that when the curb-reins are drawn tight, the chain presses upon the chin of the horse, and so restrains him.

There is much variety in the shape of curbs, a Chifney being the strongest, and therefore the most capable of misuse in unpractised hands. A really good double bridle for ordinary riding is a Dwyer curb (which has very short cheeks), and a common smooth snaffle. The Cambridge bit is also very generally esteemed.

For hunting purposes, I like the snaffle bridle to have half horns only, as being less likely to be drawn in a scurry through the horse’s mouth, taking the curb along with it. I have seen this happen once or twice, with very unpleasant results.

HALF-HORNED HUNTING SNAFFLE.

To say that an animal is “hard-mouthed” is a very general expression; but the notion that he is so constantly arises from his being improperly bitted. Something or another is thrust into his mouth that does not go near fitting it, and as a consequence has no more effect in either checking or guiding him than if it were tied to his tail. When a horse is badly bitted, and controlled at the same time by incompetent hands, the double evil is almost too great to be endured; but when a proper bit is applied, there is far less suffering and inconvenience on the part of the animal, even though subjected to the hands of a very unlearned master. Timid riders ought to know, and remember, that as a horse is governed by his mouth—just as a ship is by her rudder—it will be wise to devote especial attention to that quarter, in order to avert the danger that may otherwise ensue. A skilful and experienced hand at the bridle will always prove the best means of success, and ensure the greatest amount of safety; but, where this does not exist, the natural or acquired defect may in great measure be counterbalanced by the application of a suitable bit.

Persons have positively laughed at me when I have spoken of having a horse’s mouth measured—and yet there are three interior measurements which ought to be carefully made before fitting an animal with a bit: these are, the width of the mouth, taking the measurement from the chin-groove—the exact width of the channel in which the tongue rests—and the height of the bars of the mouth, by which I mean from the surface of them to the undermost point of the chin-groove. If a bit with a port is to be used, the horse’s tongue ought also to be measured.

It often happens that from improper bitting horses acquire an ugly trick of working their tongues over the mouthpiece. I had two that did it, but cured them by riding them for awhile with a snaffle only, and then carefully fitting them as described with suitable bits.

Correct bitting will ensure complete control, or ought to do so, without inflicting pain. Anything that involves suffering ought to be discarded—although I do not wish it to be understood that I object to such pain in bitting as will compel an unbroken horse to drop his head to the correct position, or yield to the hands that are training him. Remember, however, that a curb unduly tightened, or a bit that is too severe, will often make a horse poke out his chin—and you must not then drag at him, but rather give him ease. When an animal has a bit forced into his mouth that he feels will not suit him, he tries to tell his master so by all the means that lie within his power. He exhibits restlessness when the bridle is put on: gapes, mouths, flings his head about, and carries it (when urged into motion) either on one side, or unduly high or low. There is by nature very little so called “vice” in horses. Comparatively few of them are born unruly, but many are made so by improper treatment on the part of those in whose charge they are at times unfortunately placed.

There should be one established law in bitting: never use any bridle that your horse after a trial will not face. Were this advice attended to there would be fewer accidents, and far fewer unsightly exhibitions of danger and discomfort than we are at present accustomed to see. A well-placed bit will just clear the tusks in a horse’s mouth, and in that of a mare will lie one-inch above the corner teeth. A considerate rider will always look to these things himself before mounting; will see, for instance, that the throat-lash is not drawn too tight, and that the pressure of the bit lies exactly on the bars of the mouth. These bars are formed much like the tibia, or human shin-bone, the minor edge being sharper and more salient than the outer, where it rounds off. Their shape varies in different horses. In hard-mouthed animals they are round, low, and furnished abundantly with fleshy substance; in a tender mouth they are very lean and sharp; and in what may be styled a good mouth, they are moderately so, without exhibiting too great an inclination to either of the first-named conditions.

I like to see a good wide mouthpiece used; it is a vast deal better to have it too wide than too narrow, and I give you the advice in case you do not go on the principle of measurements, which some ridicule. Let your mouthpiece be at all events not less than five inches inside (and even this will be found narrow for many horses), with cheeks rather short, and set outwardly. If a port is used it will be much better to have it opening laterally, from two to two and a-half inches.

The unsightly habit of lolling out the tongue arises from the pressure to which it is, or has been, subjected, by the whimsical shapes of many of the mouthpieces in general use, the ports of which, instead of being fashioned according to the form of the tongue and mouth, are so constructed that the first-named is either pinched severely in the hollow, or pressed between the cannons of the mouthpiece and the bars of the mouth. The horse, then, in order to relieve himself from the torture, either hangs out his tongue, or draws it up above the mouthpiece: an action which compels him to open his mouth in an unsightly manner. This latter defect is likewise frequently attributable to the extreme height of the ports of some mouthpieces; these act, most improperly, on the palate, and when the reins are pulled, cause such excessive agony that the sufferer gapes, in order to ease his pain.

MOUTH OF TORTURED HORSE.

It is a common error to suppose that the power of the bit lies in the mouthpiece, according to its form, and that a high port (one that bears upon the palate) affords control over the animal thus bitted. The real power lies in the branches, according to their proportions, and not by any means in the size or shape of the port, which latter ought to have the effect of an axis gravitating on the bars of the mouth, in order that by its influence the branches may act on these only, and not on either the palate or the tongue.

ANTI-REARING BIT.

No lady’s horse worth calling one will ever require a rearing-bit, but such things are useful on occasions, and a gentleman told me some time ago that he obviated an uncomfortable habit which one of his horses had contracted, of throwing up his head, by using a round ring bit with reins attached, in place of a snaffle. I have never tried it myself, therefore cannot vouch for the general efficacy of the experiment; but it may be very good. Men do not mean to be cruel to horses when bitting them improperly, but they are so nevertheless—to a terrible degree. An animal shows signs of uneasiness, and it is at once set down to “temper,” and punished accordingly. Temper may at times no doubt have something to do with intractability, but so it has—very often—with ourselves, and what better means can be adopted to calm the irritability of man or his slave than patience, kindness, and an entire absence of all desire to fight?

I do not much care for nosebands; they seem to me to interfere with the proper action of the bridle, by preventing the headstall from going forward, and also the cheek of the bit. The only really useful noseband is one that is detached from the bridle-cheeks and has a separate crown-strap. This, when worn low on the nose, is effective in preventing a horse opening his mouth widely, and thus displacing the bit from the bars. Martingales I simply abhor, for hunting purposes, although I have heard some good authorities advocate the use of the standing martingale, even when crossing country. I think it is only allowable in case of a confirmed “star-gazer,” who goes at his fences with his head in the air, instead of looking straight before him when he jumps. A running martingale might be found useful with some horses for park or road riding, inasmuch as it can be made effectual for keeping the head of a flippant or unsteady goer properly in place. When made use of for this purpose it should be adjusted in such a way as to allow the pull of the reins to be directly in line with the top of the withers, and should be lengthened for a horse who holds his head already sufficiently low.

I have seen Irish horsebreakers in the country improvise a martingale, by putting the reins underneath the horse’s neck, and then passing them through two rings, kept together by a strap. It answered pretty well for rough riding, but I cannot recommend the innovation.

Martingales of all sorts and descriptions are, as a rule, undesirable, except when the rings attached to the reins of them are so small that they cannot by any possibility slip over those of the bit, and this will necessitate the stitching of the reins—for buckles will not do. Stops will otherwise be essential: made of leather, for safety.

I cannot help believing that bitting is generally much too severely carried out. The most cruel curbs are used by ignorant persons, whereas there are really very few horses who cannot be done much more with by dropping the curb rein altogether, and riding on the snaffle only. Ladies pull and work their horses’ mouths, and then wonder that the horses pull them in return. It is a great mistake. Hundreds of animals are made thoroughly unruly by undue use of the curb, and so much evil have I seen accrue from it, that I strongly recommend all young riders to try riding with the snaffle only, and to keep the curb rein hanging loosely over the little finger, so that it may in an instant be taken up if necessity demands, which I am confident, however, will not very often be the case.

Some time ago I rode a mare for a friend who was very desirous of ascertaining whether the animal was a fit one to carry a lady with safety. I don’t believe she meant to imperil my safety in any way, in order to secure her own. I simply offered to try the mare, and the proposal was accepted. Terrible things had been said of the animal’s want of training, evil temper, and so forth, and the groom who brought her to me was evidently extremely nervous. He told me, the very first thing, that the mare had never in her life done any saddle work, except with “a desperately wild young gentleman,” who had bitted her severely, and yet found her most difficult to manage. Therein lay the secret, I thought to myself; but I said nothing, and the maligned quadruped and I started on our trial, the groom most earnestly imploring me to keep a firm hold of the curb. I found that she hung desperately upon her bridle, kept her head between her knees with a strong, determined, heavy pull—a dead one, in fact—upon the bit, and went along with a rough, jerky action, which had me very soon tired out. The Editor of the Sporting and Dramatic News had volunteered to accompany me, in order to see the trial, and when we got into the Row and set our horses going, the brute nearly dragged my arms out in her canter. The tug she had upon the bridle was quite terrific, and, evidently prepared for a fight, she laid back her ears and shook her wicked head angrily. I rode her from Palace Gate to the Corner in this manner—not pulling one ounce against her, and yielding very slightly to her in her stride. By the time we turned she had given up fighting, and I was enabled for the first time to speak to my companion. I then dropped the curb, and rode her entirely upon the snaffle. The effect was magical; she at once lifted her head, ceased pulling altogether, and went along in a pleasant, joyous canter—going well up to her bridle, but not attempting any liberties whatever. In less than an hour’s time I was riding her with one hand, petting and making much of her with the other—an attention which, as a pleasing novelty, she evidently much appreciated. Finding her slightly intractable during the ride homeward, I once more lightly took up the curb. It maddened her in a moment. She turned wildly round, twisted about with a rotatory motion most bewildering and unpleasant, ran me against a cart, and behaved altogether so outrageously that it required my very utmost skill, confidence, and temper to restore her equanimity, and steer her safely to our destination. On dismounting I observed to the groom who had come to fetch her, that considering the amount of excitement through which she had passed, it was wonderful that she had not sweated. His answer was that she was always fed upon cooked food (a pet theory of mine, to which I shall devote a chapter by-and-by), and added that the horse which he himself was riding—a remarkably fine four-year-old—derived its chief sustenance from boiled barley.

I shall now close my chapter upon bitting. That it has been a horribly dry one I cannot hope to find contradicted, but I felt that its instructions ought to come in just where I have introduced them, and they will be better understood, no doubt, when the pupil shall have learned thoroughly how to ride. No lady’s education can be called anything like complete (with regard to equine matters) until she perfectly understands the principles of bitting, and can, moreover, saddle and bridle her own horses without the aid of a groom. I shall give instructions concerning these matters in another chapter.

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