by R S Surtees
“‘Unting is the sport of kings, the image of war without its guilt, and only five-and-twenty per cent. of its danger! In that word, ‘‘unting,’ wot a ramification of knowledge is compressed! The choice of an ‘oss — the treatment of him when got — the groomin’ at home, the ridin’ abroad — the boots, the breeches, the saddle, the bridle, the ‘ound, the ‘untsman, the feeder, the Fox! Oh! how that beautiful word, Fox, gladdens my ‘eart, and warms the declinin’ embers of my age. (Cheers.) The ‘oss and the ‘ound were made for each other, and natur threw in the Fox as a connectin’ link between the two. (Loud cheers.) He’s perfect symmetry, and my affection for him, is a perfect paradox. In the summer I loves him with all the hardour of affection; not an ‘air of his beautiful ‘ead would I hurt; the sight of him is more glorious nor the Lord Mayor’s show! but when the hautumn comes — when the brownin’ copse and cracklin’ stubble proclaim the farmer’s fears are past, then, dash my vig, ’ow I glories in pursuin’ of him to destruction, and holdin’ him above the bayin’ pack! (Loud cheers.)
“And yet,” added Mr. Jorrocks thoughtfully, “it ar’nt that I loves the fox less, but that I loves the ‘ound more, as the chap says in the play, when he sticks his friend in the gizzard. (Roars of laughter and applause.)
“The ‘oss loves the ‘ound, and I loves both; and it is that love wot brings me to these parts, to follow the all-glorious callin’ of the chase, and to enlighten all men capable of illumination. To-night I shall instruct you with a lecture on dealin’.
“‘O who shall counsel a man in the choice of a wife or an ‘oss?’ asks that inspired writer, the renowned Johnny Lawrence. ‘The buyer has need of a hundred eyes, the seller of but one, says another equestrian conjuror. Who can take up an ‘oss book and read ‘bout splints, and spavins, and stringalts, and corns, and cuttin’, and farcy, and dropsy, and fever, and thrushes, and grease, and gripes, and mallenders, and sallenders, and ring-bones, and roarin’, etcetera, etceterorum, without a shudder lest such a complication of evils should fall to his lot? Who can expect a perfect ‘oss, when he sees what an infinity of hills they are heirs to? I ‘opes I haven’t come to ‘Andley Cross to inform none on you what an ‘oss is, nor to explain that its component parts are four legs, a back-bone, an ‘ead, a neck, a tail, and other etceteras, too numerous to insert in an ‘and-bill, as old Georgey Robins used to say.
“‘Eavens, wot a lot of rubbish has been written about ‘osses!” continued the worthy lecturer, casting up his eyes.
“I took a fut rule t’other night and measured off a whole yard and an ‘alf of real down-right ‘ard printin’ on the single word ‘oss; each succeedin’ writer snubbin’ the last, swearin’ he know’d nothin’, until one would expect to arrive at the grand climax of hignorance, instead of gleanin’ wisdom as one went. There was Bartlet, and Bracken, and Gibson, and Griffiths, and Taplin, and Stewart, and Youatt, and ‘Ands, and Lawrence, and Wite, and Percival, and Hosmer, and Peters, and Anonymous by ‘Ookem, and Wilkinson on Lock-jaw, and Colman, and Sewell, and Happerley, and Caveat Emptier, all snubbin’ each other like so many snobs.
“Away with them all, say I!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, throwing out his hands, to the imminent danger of his supporters right and left. “Away with them all! Away with all such rubbish, say I! John Jorrocks is the only real enlightened sapient sportsman; and ’ere, ’ere from this lofty heminence I hurls defiance at the whole tribe of word-manglin’, grammar-stranglin’, cotation-crammin’, cocks! bids them to a grand tilt or tournament of jaw, where hevery man may do his best, and I’ll make mince-meat of them all — catermauchously chaw them up, as the Americans say. (Loud cheers.)
“But, gently old bouy,” continued he to himself, “you mus’nt be too ‘ard on the fools, or you’ll kill ’em out-right; curb your wehemence a little; come, I’ll give you a drop of brandy and water;” saying which, Mr. Jorrocks retired to the back of the platform, and took such a swig at the tumbler, as left nothing, as he observed, to “carry over.”
Presently he returned, smacking his lips, and resumed in a more composed tone as follows:— “Talkin’ about writers,” said he, “the best informed man to my mind wot ever wrote on equestrian matters, was Mr. Gambado, who held the distinguished post of ridin’-master to the Doge of Wenice. Hosmer may be more learned, and Happerley more latiney, but for the real down-right shrewd hobserwation, the Doge’s man flogs all t’others, as the Kentucky boy said. Most writers go out of their way to bring in summut wot does not belong to the subject, but Gambado sticks to his text like a leech. Hosmer, for instance, tells us that a hostrich can outstrip an ‘oss, but what matter does that make, seein’ that no one would like to go cuttin’ across country on a hostrich that could get an ‘oss. Another tells us how many ‘osses Xerxes had in his army after he passed the Hellespont, but it would have been far more to the purpose to have told us how many Mason or Bartley bought at the last ‘Orncastle fair.
“Still I don’t mean to say that Gambado was all over right, for there are points upon which the Doge’s man and I differ, though fashion, in course, has altered things since his time. He writes upon ‘osses in general, and says little about those for carrying’ a scarlet, without bringin’ it to shame, which is wot we most want information upon. Some of his positions too are bad. For instance, talkin’ of eyes, he says, some people make a great bother about an ‘oss’s eyes, jest as if they have anything to do with his haction, and Geoffery says, that if a man chooses to ride without a bridle it may be matter of moment to him to have an ‘oss with an eye or two, but that if he has a bridle, and also a pair of eyes of his own, it is parfectlie immaterial whether the ‘oss sees or not. Now, from this, I thinks we may infer that the Doge either did not keep ‘ounds, or that the country he ‘unted was flat and unenclosed, otherwise Gambado would certainlie have felt the inconwenience of ridin’ a blind ‘un. Indeed, I almost think, from his declining the Rev. Mr. Nutmeg’s offer of a mount on his brown ‘oss, that Mr. Gambado either was not a sportsman, or had arrived at a time of life when the exertion of ‘unting was too great for him.
“The case was this,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, taking up the work, “and the advice is as good now as it was then. Nutmeg says, in his letter to the ex-ridin’ master, who appears to have been actin’ as a sort of chamber counsel on ‘oss cases:— ‘You must know, sir, I am werry fond of ‘unting, and live in as fine a scentin’ country as any in the kingdom. The soil is pretty stiff, the leaps large and frequent, and a great deal of timber to get over. Now, sir, my brown ‘oss is a werry capital ‘unter; and though he is slow, and I cannot absolutely ride over the ‘ounds (indeed the country is so enclosed that I do not see so much of them as I could wish), yet, in the end, he generally brings me in before the ‘untsman goes home with the dogs.’
“And here let me observe,” said Mr. Jorrocks, breaking off, “that that is neither good sportin’ nor good language, and Nutmeg, I should think, had been one of your Macadamizin’ happetite ‘unting parsons, or he would neither have talked of ridin’ over the ‘ounds, or yet being content to draggle up after the worry, and just as the dogs, as he calls them, were going home — But let that pass.” Mr. Jorrocks then resumed his reading —
“‘Now, sir, my brown ‘oss is a noble leaper, and never gave me a fall in his life in that way; but he has got a hawkward trick (though he clears everything with his fore legs in capital style) of leaving the other two on the wrong side of the fence; and if the gate or stile happens to be in a sound state, it is a work of time and trouble to get his hind legs over. He clears a ditch finely indeed, with two feet, but the others constantly fall in; that it gives me a strange pain in my back, very like what is called a lumbago; and unless you kindly stand my friend and instruct me how I am to bring these hind legs after me, I fear I shall never get rid of it. If you please, sir, you may ride him a ‘unting yourself any day you will please to appoint, and you shall be ‘eartily welcome.’
“To this letter Gambado replied as follows: —
“‘Your brown ‘oss being so good an ‘unter, and as you observe, having so fine a notion of leapin’, I should be ‘appy if I could be of any service in assistin’ you to make his two hind legs follow the others; bat, as you observe, they seem so werry perwerse and obstinate, that I cherish but small ‘opes of prewailin’ upon them — I have looked and found many such cases, but no cure — However, in examinin’ my papers I have found out somethin’ that may prove of service to you, in your werry lamentable case — An oat-stealer or ostler has informed me, that it is a common trick played upon bagsters or London riders, when they are not generous to the servants in the inn, for a wicked boy or two to watch one of them as he turns out of the gateway, and to pop a bush or stick under his ‘oss’s tail, which he instantly brings down upon the stick and ‘olds it fast, kickin’ at the same time at such a rate as to dislodge the bagman, that bestrides him — Suppose then, when your ‘oss has flown over a gate or stile in his old way, with his fore legs only, you were to dismount, and clap your vip or stick properly under his tail, and then mount again; the puttin’ him in a little motion will set him on his kickin’ principles in a hurry, and it’s ten to one but by this means you get his hind legs to follow the others — You will be able, perhaps, to extricate your stick from its place of confinement when you are up and over (if you arn’t down); but should you not, it is but sixpence gone. I send you this as a mere surmise; perhaps it may answer; perhaps not.
“‘I thank you for your offer, which is a werry kind one, but I beg to be excused accepting it; all my hambition being to add to the theory with as little practice as possible.’
“‘Add to the theory with as little practice as possible,”’ repeated Mr. Jorrocks,— “That’s wot a great many writers are anxious to do at the present day — But to proceed — Another circumstance wot leads me to suppose that Jeffery was not an ‘unter is this. In some obserwations in his Preface on a portrait of Mr. Gambado that adorns the frontispiece, the editor says that it was done by a friend from memory, and tinctured with the prejudice of friendship. ‘Jeffery,’ he says, ‘was not so slim, nor was his eye so poignant; nor was he ever known to be possessed of a pair of top-boots himself, though he often mentions boots in his writings.’
“That I think,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, “is conclusive. But then what does it prove? Why, that if Gambado, the best of all sportin’ writers, knew nothin’ of ‘unting, it is the more incumbent on John Jorrocks to supply the deficiency.
“But whether Gambado, if I may be allowed to speak of him with such familiarity, was a fox-hunter or not, it is quite clear that he possessed a knowledge of ‘osses far superior to any man of the present day. ‘The Academy for Grown ‘Ossmen,’ is a perfect text-book in its way, and when a man has read Gambado’s instructions how to choose an ‘oss, how to tackle him properly, in what sort of dress to ride him, how to mount and manage him, how to ride him out, and above all how to ride him ‘ome again, dull must be the dog wot has occasion to go to a riding-school.
“There is a wast of fancy about dealin’ — far more than relates to the mere colour; indeed some say that colour is immaterial, and there is an old saw about a good ‘oss never being of a bad colour, but the first question a green ‘orn asks is the colour of the prad. Old Steropes says, if you have no predilection that way, choose a mouse-coloured dun, for it has the peculiar adwantage of lookin’ equally well all the year round. A black list down the back makes it still more desirable, as the bystanders will suppose you are ridin’ with a crupper, a practice no finished ‘ossmen ought to neglect. This latter point, however, is confuted by Gambado, who says, ‘be werry shy of a crupper if your ‘oss naturally throws his saddle forward. It will certainlie make his tail sore, set him a kickin’, and werry likely bring you into trouble.’
“How perplexin’ must all this be to a beginner,” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, throwing up his hands.
“The height of an ‘oss, Gambado says, is perfectly immaterial, prowided he is higher behind than before. Nothin’ is more pleasin’ to a traveller than the sensation of continually gettin’ forward; whereas the ridin’ of an ‘oss of a contrary make is like swarmin’ the bannisters of a staircase, when, though perhaps you really advance, you feel as if you were goin’ backwards.
“Gambado says nothin’ about the size of an ‘oss’s head, but he says he should carry it low, that he may have an eye to the ground and see the better where he steps. Some say the ‘ead should be as large as possible, inasmuch as the weight tends to prewent the ‘oss from rearin’, which is a wice dangerous in the highest degree; my idea is, that the size of the ‘ead is immaterial, for the ‘oss doesn’t go on it, at least he didn’t ought to do I know.
“The ears cannot well be too long, Gambado says, for a judicious rider steers his course by fixin’ his eyes between them. This, however, is a disputed point, and old Dickey Lawrence recommends that they should be large and loppin’ in a horizontal direction, by which position no rain can possibly enter, and the ‘oss will have no occasion to shake his ‘ead, a habit which he says not only disturbs the brain, but frequently brings on the mad staggers.
“Here again the doctors differ!
“It seems agreed on all hands that the less an ‘oss lifts his fore legs, the easier he will move for his rider, and he will likewise brush all the stones out of his way, which might otherwise throw him down. Gambado thinks if he turns his toes well out, he will disperse them right and left, and not have the trouble of kickin’ the same stone a second time, but I don’t see much adwantage in this, and think he might as well be kickin’ the same stone as a fresh one.
“There can be no doubt that a Roman nose like Arterxerxes’s adds greatly to the gravity of an ‘oss’s countenance. It has a fine substantial yeoman-like appearance, and well becomes the father of a family, a church dignitary, or a man in easy circumstances. — A Roman nose and a shovel hat are quite unique. — Some think a small eye a recommendation, as they are less exposed to injuries than large ones, but that is matter of fancy. The nostrils, Lawrence says, should be small, and the lips thick and leathery, which latter property aids the sensibility of the mouth werry considerably. — Some prefer an arched neck to a ewe, but the latter has a fine consequential hair, and ought not to be slighted.
“It may be prejudice, but I confess I likes an ‘oss’s back wot inclines to a hog bend. — Your slack backs are all werry well for carryin’ miller’s sacks, but rely upon it there’s nothin’ like the outward bow for makin’ them date their leaps properly. Many men in the Surrey remember my famous ‘oss Star-gazer. He was made in that form, and in his leaps threw an arch like the dome of St. Paul’s. A long back is a grand thing for a family ‘oss. — I’ve seen my cousin Joe clap six of his brats and his light porter on the back of the old Crockerdile, and the old nag would have carried another if his tail had been tied up. — In the ‘unting field, however, one seldom sees more than one man on an ‘oss, at a time. Two don’t look sportin’, and the world’s governed by appearances.
“Some people object to high blowers, that is, ‘osses wot make a noise like steam-engines as they go. I don’t see no great objection to them myself, and think the use they are of in clearin’ the way in crowded thoroughfares, and the protection they afford in dark nights by preventin’ people ridin’ against you, more than counterbalance any disconwenience. — Gambado says, a bald face, wall eyes, and white legs, answer the same purpose, but if you can get all four, it will be so much the better.
“There is an author who says the hip-bones should project well beyond the ribs, which form will be found werry conwenient in ‘ot weather, as the rider may hang his hat on them occasionally, whilst he wipes the perspiration from his brow, addin’ that that form gives the hannimal greater facility in passin’ through stable-doors, but I am inclined to think, that the adwice is a little of what the French call pleasantre, and we call gammon; at all events I don’t follow it.
“Broken knees is not
hin’. — Where, let me ax, is the man with the ‘oss that he will swear will never tumble down? Geoffry indeed says, ‘Be sure to buy a broken-knee’d ‘oss whenever he falls in your way; the best bit of flesh that ever was crossed will certainly come down one day or another; whereas, one that has fallen (and scarified himself pretty tightly) never will again, if he can help it.’
“At an American ‘oss sale, I read of t’other day, a buyer exclaims —
“‘Vy, he’s broken knee’d?’
“‘Not at all, you mister,’ cried the hauctioneer pertly. ‘The gen’leman wot sells this ‘oss always marks his stud on the knee, that he may know ’em again’ — haw! haw! haw! chuckled Mr. Jorrocks; ‘Lofty hactioned ‘oss! — struck his knee again his tooth!’ I once heard a dealer declare on behalf of a broken-kneed ‘un in the city.
“There is an old sayin’ in Spain, that a man wot would buy a mule without a fault must not buy one at all, and faultless ‘osses are equally rare. Gil Blas’s mule, if I recollects right, was ‘all faults,’ and there are many ‘osses not much better. To be sure it makes a marvellous difference whether you are representin’ the ‘oss’s qualities to an expectant purchaser, or are treatin’ yourself to a bit of unwarnished truth as we all must do occasionally. It is an unpleasant reflection, and says little for the morality of the age, or the merits of the Reform Bill, that, out of London, one can hardly get rid of an ‘oss without more or less doing wiolence to one’s feelin’s of integrity. ‘The purchaser has needs of a hundred eyes, the seller of but one,’ says the authority I quoted before, but dash my vig, they require the seller to make up in tongue what he economises in wision.
“Warrantin’ an ‘oss is highly inconwenient, ‘specially when you’ve reason to know he’s a screw, and it requires a good deal of management to ewade the question so as not to diminish the price. I generally tries to laugh it off, sayin’, ‘Vy really warrantin’ is quite out of fashion, and never thought of at Tat’s;’ or if the buyer is a young un, and apparently werdant, I says, “Why, faith, I should say he’s all right, but you can see the ‘oss yourself, and can judge better nor I.’