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Title: The Horse In History
Author: Tozer, Basil
Language: English
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THE HORSE IN HISTORY
[Illustration: THE KNIGHT, DEATH AND THE DEVIL
_From an engraving by Albert Dürer_]
THE
HORSE IN HISTORY
BY
BASIL TOZER
AUTHOR OF
“PRACTICAL HINTS ON RIDING TO HOUNDS” ETC.
WITH TWENTY-FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS
METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
_First Published in 1908_
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
After directly helping on the progress of the world and the
development of civilisation almost from the time when, according to
Nehring's interesting studies, the wild and primitive horses of the
great Drift began to exhibit distinct differences in make, shape and
individual characteristics, the horse has reached the limit of its
tether.
For with the dawn of the twentieth century, and the sudden innovation
of horseless traffic, any further influence that it might have
exercised upon the advancement of the human race comes rapidly to a
close.
That the horse's reign is over—though it is sincerely to be hoped that
horses will be with us still for many years—the statistics issued
recently by our Board of Agriculture in a measure prove. For in those
statistics it is stated that the number of horses in the United
Kingdom decreased during last year alone by no less than 12,312, and
later statistics show that the decrease still continues.
In the following pages, therefore, the writer has striven to trace
the progress of the horse from very early times down to the present
day mainly from the standpoint of the effect its development had upon
the advancement of the human race. For this reason though a selected
number of the most famous horses that lived in the centuries before
Christ, and between the time of Christ and the period of the Norman
Conquest, and that have lived within the last nine centuries, have
been mentioned, the horses of romance and mythology have for the most
part been passed over.
Every effort has been made to obtain information that is strictly
accurate, a task of no small difficulty owing to the mass of
contradictory evidence with which the writer has found himself
confronted in the course of his researches. To the best of his ability
he has winnowed the actual facts from the mass of fiction that he has
come upon in the writings of some of the earlier historians, and to
some extent in records, manuscripts and private letters of more recent
times to which he has had access.
B. J. T.
BOODLE'S CLUB, 1908.
CONTENTS
PART I
FROM VERY EARLY TIMES TO THE CONQUEST
CHAPTER I
PAGE
Rameses; early Egyptian chariots—Horses of Babylon and of
Libya—Erichthonius; horse of Job; horses of Solomon—Early
circus riding—Dancing horses of the Sybarites; the Crotonians'
stratagem—Homer's “Iliad”; Menesthus; early wagering—Patroclus;
Achilles; Euphorbus; Hyperenor—Horses and chariots of the
Thracians—Ancient Greeks and horsemanship; decline in the
popularity of war chariots; inauguration of cavalry—Xenophon on
horsemanship—White horses 1
CHAPTER II
Increasing interest in horses—Herodotus; Thucydides; war
chariots of the Persians—Horses represented on coinage—Wooden
horse of Troy—The Parthenon frieze; Greek art—Plato; white
horses—The procession of Xerxes; horses and men sacrificed—The
horse of Darius—Horse racing introduced among the
Romans—Xenophon and Simo—Early horseshoes, bits and bitting;
ancient methods of mounting 23
CHAPTER III
Xenophon disliked the “American” seat—Cavalry organised
by the Athenians—Cost of horses twenty-three centuries
ago—Aristophanes; Aristotle; Athenians' fondness for horse
racing—Alexander the Great; Bucephalus—Story of Bucephalus;
his death—Famous painters of horses: Apelles, Pauson,
Micon—Mythical flesh-eating horses of Diomed—Hannibal's
cavalry of 12,000 horse—Coins—Posidonius; horses of the
Parthians, Iberians and Celtiberians 45
CHAPTER IV
Virgil on the points of a horse—Cæsar's invasion—Abolition
of war chariots—Precursor of the horseshoe—Nero's 2000
mules shod with silver; Poppæa's shod with gold—The
Ossianic and Cuchulainn epic cycles; Cuchulainn's
horses—The Iceni on Newmarket Heath; early horse racing in
Britain—Horses immolated by the Romans; white horses as
prognosticators—Caligula's horse, Incitatus; Celer, the horse
of Verus; the horse of Belisarius 67
CHAPTER V
Mahomet encourages horse-breeding—Procopius; a
misstatement—Early allusion to horse races—Figures of horses
cut on cliffs—Roland and his horse, Veillantiff—Orelia,
Roderick's charger—Trebizond, Alfana; Odin's mythical horse,
Sleipnir—Horse fighting in Iceland—Some horses of mythology:
Pegasus, Selene, Xanthos, Balios, Cyllaros, Arion, Reksh—Arab
pedigrees traced through dams—Influence of the horse upon
history—Courage of Julius Cæsar's horses 86
PART II
FROM THE CONQUEST TO THE STUART PERIOD
CHAPTER I
The Conqueror's cavalry—Horse fairs and races at
Smithfield—King John's foolish fad—The Persians and their
horses—Relics of Irish art; what they indicate—Simon
de Montfort the first master of foxhounds—The king's
right to commandeer horses—Sir Eustace de Hecche;
Battle of Falkirk—Marco Polo and white horses; curious
superstitions—Edward III. and Richard II. encourage horse
breeding—Battle of Crecy 107
CHAPTER II
Richard II.'s horse, Roan Barbary—Thoroughbred English horses
characteristic of the nation—Chaucer; Cambuscan's wooden
horse—Don Quixote's Aligero Clavileno—Horse race between the
Prince of Wales and Lord Arundel—The Chevalier Bayard; his
horse, Carman—The Earl of Warwick's horse, Black Saladin—Joan
of Arc—King Richard's horse, White Surrey—Charles VIII.
of France's horse, Savoy—Dame Julyana Berners—Wolsey's
horsemanship—Queen Elizabeth's stud 127
CHAPTER III
Inauguration and development of the Royal Stud—Exportation
of horses declared by Henry VIII. to be illegal—Sale of
horses to Scotsmen pronounced to be an act of felony—Riding
matches become popular—Ferdinand of Arragon's gift of horses
to Henry VIII.—Henry's love of hunting—King Henry stakes the
bells of St Paul's on a throw of the dice—Some horses of
romance—Horse-breeding industry crippled in Scotland 148
CHAPTER IV
North America without horses when Columbus landed—Scarcity
of horses at the Conquest of Mexico—Francisco Pizarro; his
cavaliers terrify the Indians—Emperor Charles V. sends horses
to King Edward VI.—David Hume, “a man remarkable for piety,
probity, candour and integrity”; his practices in connection
with horse racing—Queen Elizabeth fond of racing; condition
of the Turf during her reign—Stallions fed on eggs and
oysters—Lord Herbert of Cherbury's antagonistic attitude
towards the Turf—Some horses in Shakespeare's plays—Performing
horse and its owner publicly burnt to death—Horses trained by
cruelty 168
CHAPTER V
King Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth passionately fond of
hunting—John Selwyn's remarkable feat in the hunting field;
the monument at Walton-on-Thames—Don Quixote and his steed,
Rosinante; Peter of Provence's wooden horse, Babieca;
Clavileno and the Cid's horse—Mary Queen of Scots' favourite
horses—Queen Elizabeth's retinue of 2400 horses—Arundel,
Aquiline, Brigadore—The horses of Anatolia and Syria—Sir
Robert Carey's historic ride from London to Edinburgh in sixty
hours—The horses of Napoleon I. 187
PART III
FROM THE STUART PERIOD TO THE PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER I
Arrival of the Markham Arabian, the first Arab imported
into England—Newmarket village founded by James I.—Decline
of the “great horse”—The Royal Studs—James I. organises a
race meeting on the frozen River Ouse—Superstitious beliefs
concerning horses—James I. meets with a grotesque riding
mishap—Prosperity of the Turf—Riding match between Lord
Haddington and Lord Sheffield—The Turf vigorously denounced as
“an evil likely to imperil the whole country's prosperity” 202
CHAPTER II
First races of importance run at Newmarket—Races in
Hyde Park—The Helmsley Turk and the Morocco Barb—Racing
introduced into Holland—Importation of Spanish stallions
into England—Prince Charles's riding master, the Duke of
Newcastle—Increasing cost of horses—Marshal de Bassompierre;
his loss through gambling, £500,000 in a year; Sir
John Fenwick—Sir Edward Harwood's pessimism—Cromwell's
Ironsides—Armour discarded—The opposition to stage coaches; Mr
Cressett's theory; Charles II. favours their adoption 222
CHAPTER III
The Commonwealth's “ordinance to prohibit horse
racing”—Revival of racing under Charles II.—The King
a finished horseman—The figure of Britannia—The Royal
Mares—Formation of the thoroughbred stud—Thomas Shadwell's
cynical description of life at Newmarket—Spread of horse
racing in Ireland—Jockeys at Newmarket entertained by Charles
II.—Sir Robert Carr; the Duke of Monmouth's connection with
the Turf—Annual charge for horses of the Royal household,
£16,640—Newmarket under the _régime_ of the Merry Monarch; the
Duke of Buckingham 242
CHAPTER IV
Arrival of the Byerley Turk—Roman Catholics forbidden to own
a horse worth over £5—Henry Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, on the
manners of the age—King William III.'s death due to a riding
accident—The Duke of Cumberland's breeding establishment in
Queen Anne's reign—Arrival of the Darley Arabian—The Godolphin
Arabian—Royal Ascot inaugurated by Queen Anne—“Docking” and
“cropping” condemned by Queen Anne; attempt to suppress
these practices—The story of Eclipse—Some horses of
romance—Copenhagen and Marengo 261
CHAPTER V
A retrospective summary—The beginning of the end—Superstition
of the horseshoe—The Bedouins and their horses—Some classic
thoroughbreds of modern times—Horses hypnotised—The Derby and
the Oaks—Horse racing in Mongolia—Conclusion 281
INDEX 295
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The Knight, Death, and the Devil _Frontispiece_
From an engraving by Albert Dürer.
Combat between Amazons and Attic heroes. Fourth century, B.C. 19
From a Greek vase in the British Museum.
Greek coins showing horses in the early centuries before Christ 27
The Emperor Trajan, showing Roman style of riding 33
From Richard Berenger's “The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
The Emperor Theodosius, showing saddle 33
From Richard Berenger's “The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
A Parthian horseman, showing Parthian style of riding bareback 33
From Richard Berenger's “The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
Sarmatian horse and warrior, meant to represent horse and rider
in armour made of plates of bone or of horse-hoof 33
From Richard Berenger's “The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
A portion of the Parthenon Frieze, executed by Phidias about the
year 440 B.C. 39
Roman soldier about to adjust “stocking” used in place of shoes 44
From Richard Berenger's “The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
Roman soldier about to mount on off side 44
From Richard Berenger's “The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
A Mauritanian horseman, showing how the Mauritanians and
Humidians rode without saddle or bridle 44
From Richard Berenger's “The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
Alexander the Great on horseback, about 338 B.C.
The figure is believed to represent Bucephalus 55
From a bronze in the British Museum.
Persians fighting with elephants against the Romans, about the
time of Pyrrhus, 280 B.C. This picture has been wrongly
attributed to Raphael 62
From an engraving.
Caligula on horseback. About 37 A.D. 79
From a figure in the British Museum.
Bayeux tapestry supposed to represent the Battle of Hastings,
1066 110
Statue of Colleoni by Verrocchio in Venice 203
From a photo by R. Anderson, Rome.
Van Dyck's famous picture of Charles I. on horseback in the
National Gallery, London 225
From a photo by Franz Hanfstængl.
Oliver Cromwell on horseback 233
After the painting by Van Dyck.
Horses of the Cavaliers, seventeenth century. From a painting in
the possession of his Majesty King Edward VII. 243
From a photograph by Franz Hanfstængl.
The Duke of Schonberg on a typical charger of the early
seventeenth century 257
After the painting by Sir G. Kneller.
Flying Childers, bred by Mr Leonard Childers in 1715, is said to
have been “the fastest horse that has ever lived” 269
From a photograph by A. Rischgitz.
Mr O'Kelly's Eclipse, the most famous thoroughbred stallion ever
foaled, 1764 273
After the painting by G. Stubbs.
Napoleon at Wagram 279
From the famous painting by Vernet at Versailles.
From a photo by Neurdein frères.
Wellington's famous horse, Copenhagen 280
From an engraving (Photo by A. Rischgitz).
Flying Dutchman, foaled 1846 285
From a life-size painting by Herring. By kind permission
of the Earl of Rosebery.
From a photograph by W. E. Gray.
SOME WORKS CONSULTED
Of the many volumes the writer has consulted whilst engaged in
compiling this book, the following are among the more important. The
list is arranged alphabetically, according to the authors' names. To
the authors or editors, as the case may be, and to the publishers
of these works, the writer here begs to acknowledge his very deep
indebtedness for the assistance he has derived from consulting the
volumes named.
ARRIAN (F.)—“The Anabasis of Alexander.”
AUREGGIO (E.)—“Les Chevaux du Nord de l'Afrique.”
AZARA (F. DE)—“The Natural History of the Quadrupeds of Paraguay
and the River La Plata.”
BERENGER (R.)—“The History and Art of Horsemanship.”
BLOUNT (T.)—“Antient Tenures.”
BLUNT (W. S.) “Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates.”
BOUSSON (M. A. E.)—“Etude de la Représentation du Cheval.”
CHARRAS (J. B. A.) “Histoire de la Campagne de 1815.”
CHOMEL (C.)—“Histoire du Cheval dans l'antiquité et son rôle dans
la civilization.”
CHURCH (A. J.)—“Roman Life in the Days of Cicero.”
COOK (T. A.)—“The History of the Turf,” and “Eclipse and O'Kelly.”
DARWIN (C. R.)—“Variation of Animals and Plants.”
ERMAN (A.)—“Life in Ancient Egypt.”
EWART (J. C.)—“The Multiple Origin of Horses and Ponies”; “A
Critical Period in the Development of the Horse”; and “The
Penicuik Experiments on Breeding between Horses and Zebras.”
FITZWYGRAM (Sir F. W. J.)—“Horses and Stables.”
FLOWER (Sir W. H.)—“The Horse.”
GAST (E.)—“Le Cheval Normand et ses Origines.”
GILBEY (Sir W.)—“Horses Past and Present,” and “The Great Horse,
or War Horse.”
GREENWELL (W.)—“British Barrows.”
HADDON (A. C.)—“The Study of Man.”
HALL (H.)—“The Horses of the British Empire.”
HAYES (M. H.)—“Points on the Horse.”
HOLM (A.)—“The History of Greece.”
HORE (J. P.)—“History of Newmarket.”
HUME (D.)—“Imperial History of England.”
HUME (D.)—“The History of the House of Douglas.”
JONSON (B.)—“The Alchemist.”
JOWETT (B.)—“Thucydides.”
LODGE (E.)—“Illustrations of British History.”
MAYNE (C.)—“Odes of Pindar.”
MITCHELL (T.)—“The Comedies of Aristophanes.”
MONTFAUCON (B. DE)—“Antiquities.”
MORGAN (H.)—“The Art of Horsemanship.”
MURRAY (D).—“Life of Joan of Arc.”
NEWCASTLE (DUKE OF)—“Observations on Horses.”
PETRIE (F.)—“History of Egypt.”
PIETREMENT (C. A.)—“Les Chevaux dans les Temps Historiques et
pré-Historiques.”
PLUTARCH—“Life of Alexander the Great.”
PRESCOTT (W. H.)—“The Conquest of Mexico.”
REYCE (R).—“Breviary of Suffolk.”
RIDGEWAY (W.)—“The Origin and Influence of the Domestic Horse,”
and “The Early Age of Greece.”
RUSKIN (J.)—“The Queen of the Air.”
SCHLIEBEN (A.)—“The Horse in Antiquity.”
SIDNEY (S.)—“The Book of the Horse.”
SOTHERBY (W.)—“Georgics of Virgil.”
SOUTHEY (R.)—“Iliad of Homer.”
STREET (F.)—“The History of the Shire Horse.”
STRUTT (J.)—“Sports and Pastimes of the People of England.”
TASSO (T.)—“Jerusalem Delivered.”
TAUNTON (T.)—“Famous Horses.”
TRIMMER (Mrs M.)—“Natural History.”
TWEEDIE (Mrs ALEC.)—“Hyde Park: Its History and Romance.”
TWEEDIE (W.)—“The Arabian Horse.”
UPTON (Capt. R. D.)—“Newmarket and Arabia.”
VAUX (Baron C. M. de)—“A Cheval. Etude des Races Françaises et
Etrangères.”
WHITE (C.)—“History of the Turf.”
WITT (C.)—“The Trojan War.”
YULE (Sir H.)—“Marco Polo.”
Standard classics consulted have for the most part been omitted from
this list. The writer wishes in addition to thank his friend, Dr
William Barry, the distinguished classical scholar, for the trouble
he has taken in helping to revise some of the earlier of the proof
sheets; Professor William Ridgeway, of Cambridge, the famous historian
and archæologist, for letters containing advice that has proved of
use; Mr Theodore Andrea Cook, the most trustworthy authority we have
upon the history of the Turf and the modern thoroughbred, for letters
of introduction, etc.; and the Directors of the British Museum and the
Directors of the National Gallery for allowing photographs to be taken
for reproduction. For the sake of convenience the centuries B.C. are
alluded to in the same way that centuries A.D. are alluded to, that
is, one century in advance. Thus 550 B.C. is spoken of as the fourth
century B.C.; 250 A.D. as the third century A.D., and so on.
THE HORSE IN HISTORY
PART I
FROM VERY EARLY TIMES TO THE CONQUEST
CHAPTER I
Rameses; early Egyptian chariots—Horses of Babylon and of
Libya—Erichthonius; horse of Job; horses of Solomon—Early
circus riding—Dancing horses of the Sybarites; the Crotonians'
stratagem—Homer's “Iliad”; Menesthus; early wagering—Patroclus;
Achilles; Euphorbus; Hyperenor—Horses and chariots of the
Thracians—Ancient Greeks and horsemanship; decline in the
popularity of war chariots; inauguration of cavalry—Xenophon on
horsemanship—White horses
Though according to the more trustworthy of our naturalists hoofed
animals do not occur until the Tertiary Period in the history of
mammals, there can be no doubt that from an epoch almost “so far back
that the memory of man runneth not to the contrary,” in the literal
meaning of that legal phrase, the horse has played a prominent part in
the development of the human race.
Reference is made incidentally to “the horses of Abraham” by the
author of a historical novel published recently; but then even the
most pains-taking of writers of fiction is apt to err in minute
points, and can one blame him when the lands over which he travels,
and the subjects of which he treats, are so numerous and vary so
widely? For we know from Genesis—also from certain other later sources
that may be depended upon for accuracy—that though the prophet had
creatures of divers kinds bestowed upon him, yet the horse probably is
one of the few animals he did not receive.
Many of the important and famous victories won by Rameses—Sesostris
as the Greeks termed him—and by other monarchs of the eighteenth and
nineteenth dynasties, most likely would have proved crushing defeats
but for the assistance they obtained from horses. As it happened,
however, Rameses—whom recent writers declare to have been a very
barefaced “boomster”—succeeded with the help of his horses in marching
triumphant through many of the outlying territories in Africa as well
as in Asia.
* * * * *
We have it on the authority of Professor Flinders Petrie and other
distinguished historians that Aahmes I.—a king of the seventeenth
dynasty who drove out the Hyksos—reigned from 1587 to 1562 B.C.,
and chariots do not appear to have been used in Egypt prior to his
accession.
Indeed, as Professor Owen himself has pointed out, horses are not
found represented on any of the monuments of the very early Egyptians,
so that apparently the Egyptians of the eighteenth dynasty, whose
monuments probably are the first to show horses and chariots,
must have been the first to turn their attention seriously to the
employment of horses for useful purposes.
And yet from further statements made in Genesis it seems certain that
a native Egyptian king who flourished somewhere about the time of
Jacob—that is to say between 1800 and 1700 B.C.—owned many horses and
chariots. The Egyptians apparently did not mount horses until a very
late period in their history, and even the chariots they constructed
were, until many years had passed, used only in time of war. The lower
classes, if one may call them so, used only the ass, a beast that must
have been popular amongst the Egyptians for centuries before horses
were even heard of in Egypt.
From Genesis we gather too that Pharaoh made Joseph drive in his
second chariot; but the Egyptians who bought corn from Joseph and gave
horses in exchange for it belonged probably to the well-to-do class
that in time of war was compelled to provide the king with almost as
many horses and chariots as he needed, or at any rate as many as he
asked for.
In the records of Babylonia it is stated that horses were first
employed in the great city about the year 1500 B.C. The Libyans,
however, must have broken horses to harness some centuries before
this, and indeed learnt to ride them with some skill, for it is proved
beyond all doubt that the women of Libya rode horses astride at any
rate so far back as the seventeenth century B.C., and that in addition
to this horses were at about that time being driven in pairs by the
Libyans, to whom even the four-horse chariot cannot have been quite
unknown.
It has not been proved, from what I have been able to ascertain,
that in Neolithic times horses were already tamed, but some remains
of horses discovered at Walthamstow, in Essex, are said to date back
approximately to that period and to indicate for that reason that
horses were domesticated in the Neolithic Age.
Evidence does exist, however, that in the Neolithic and Bronze Ages
horses of a type that closely resembled that of the horses of the
Palæolithic Age were to be found in several parts of Europe. The
Trojans, as most of us know, bred horses very largely indeed, so much
so that we read of King Erichthonius, who in the thirteenth century
B.C. was in his heyday, that he became “richest of mortal men” and the
possessor of “three thousand mares which pastured along the marsh
meadow, rejoicing in their tender foals,” a statement that indirectly
recalls the fine lines in Longfellow's “The Minnisink”:
“They buried the dark chief—they freed
Beside the grave his battle steed;
And swift an arrow cleaves its way
To his stern heart! One piercing neigh
Arose,—and on the dead man's plain
The rider grasps his steed again.”
Erichthonius, according to Virgil, was the first to handle a
four-in-hand, for in the third book of his “Georgics” we are told how
“Bold Erichthonius first four coursers yok'd
And urg'd the chariot as the axle smok'd.”
Rather a risky proceeding and one from which we may conclude that bold
Erichthonius would have flouted the axiom promulgated recently by the
more prudent members of a well-known coaching club that “no team ought
to be driven faster than ten miles an hour, upon an average”!
* * * * *
Though allusions to the horse are made repeatedly in the Bible, they
give us little or no insight as to the horse's influence upon the
nations and their development. The notorious steed of Job that when
among the trumpets exclaimed “Ha! Ha!” and then winded the battle
afar off and fretted itself unduly upon hearing “the thunder of the
captains and the shouting” has been described by several writers, but
no two descriptions appear to tally.
Solomon, according to the “Book of Kings,” must have owned quite a
large stud, for we read that he had horses brought out of Egypt, and
that a chariot came up and went out for six hundred shekels of silver,
a horse for a hundred and fifty, “and so for all the kings of the
Hittites, and for the kings of Syria, did he bring them out.” The
Hittites, whom Professor Jensen assures us were Indo-Europeans, are
also shown to have had horses when they made their way into Northern
Palestine, probably at some period prior to 1400 B.C., but trustworthy
information about the horses and how the Hittites treated them is not
obtainable.
As for the horses in the Mycenean Period—the Bronze Age of Greece—the
monuments of that epoch bear testimony to the esteem in which they
were held. The indigenous people of Greece were presumably the
Pelasgians, and these monuments remain to bear testimony that such a
people once existed.
In a like manner do the gravestones of the Acropolis of Mycenæ bear
indisputable evidence, for upon three of them at least are to be
seen sculptured in low relief a chariot, a pair of horses, and a
driver, the date of this particular sculpture being approximately the
fourteenth century B.C.
* * * * *
It seems practically beyond dispute that before the year 1000 B.C. no
people rode on horseback except the Libyans, though chariots must have
been used quite 2000 years before that. Yet by the time Homer wrote
his poems horsemanship was becoming common amongst a section of the
Greeks.
Indeed by that time feats of skill on horseback upon a par with the
antics we see performed to-day in circuses were at least known, and
probably they were often watched and greatly liked. Listen, for
instance, to the following Homeric simile—the translation is almost
literal:—
“As when a man that well knows how to ride harnesses up four chosen
horses, and springing from the ground dashes to the great city along
the public highway, and crowds of men and women look on in wonder,
while he with all confidence, as his steeds fly on, keeps leaping from
one to another.”
There are two references at least in Homer to “four male horses yoked
together,” but the practice of driving four-in-hand certainly was not
common in the eighth century B.C., or probably until long after. The
above reference, however, to feats of skill performed on horseback,
recalls to mind a story, probably more or less true, that has to do
with the luxurious people of Sybaris, in Southern Italy.
In the early centuries before Christ, so it is related, this people
trained all its horses to dance to the sound of music, to the music of
flutes in particular. The inhabitants of Croton having heard of this,
and being sworn enemies of the Sybarites, determined to take advantage
of the information and attempt to conquer their foe with the aid of
strategy.
For this reason they provided all the musicians in their own army with
flutes in place of trumpets and the other instruments they had been
in the habit of using, and then without delay declared war upon the
Sybarites.
The latter, to do them justice, responded at once, in spite of the
condition of lethargy to which the life of luxury they had been
leading was supposed to have reduced them. No sooner did they approach
the Crotonian lines, however, than “a great part of the army,” as we
are told, “set up a merry tune,” which had the effect of stampeding
the Sybarites' horses, for “they instantly threw off their riders and
began to skip and dance.”
As a natural consequence the Sybarite army was taken at a disadvantage
and quickly routed with great slaughter, “very many horses being
killed during the engagement, to their owners' dismay and grief.”
* * * * *
This strange story may be in a measure exaggerated, but probably it
is based on truth, in which case it proves that the Greeks of Magna
Græcia at any rate made use of cavalry before the rest had attempted
to do so. Also we know that in the year 510 B.C. the Crotonians
destroyed Sybaris entirely.
The Assyrians too, at about this period, evidently had well-appointed
cavalry, for Ezekiel speaks of their being “clothed in blue, captains
and rulers, all of them desirable young men, horsemen riding upon
horses,” and goes on to give particulars which, in so far as they
relate to the mode of life in vogue with these desirable young men,
are calculated to shock the susceptibilities of prudish persons, and
to amuse others.
In the light of the Higher Criticism Homer's “Iliad” is believed to
have been written by various hands, and incidentally the Criticism
throws useful light upon the horse in his relation to the history
of the nations known to have flourished in the very early centuries
before Christ.
One need not here describe such steeds as Agamemnon's mare, swift
Æthe, that was given to him by his vassal, Echepolus of Sicylon, and
subsequently driven in the chariot race by Menelaus; or Phallas, the
horse of Heraclios; or the horses of the Pylian breed of which Homer
speaks at length; or Galathe, Ethon, Podarge or any of the other
steeds of which Priam's eldest son, “magnanimous and noble Hector,”
was so justly proud. Also the horses of mythology do not possess great
interest for the majority of modern readers other than classical
scholars.
That Homer himself, however, had sound knowledge of the qualifications
which go to make up what in latter-day English we probably should term
a “finished charioteer” is shown by the following rather well-known
lines that here are translated almost literally:—
“But he who in his chariot and his steeds
Trusts only, wanders here and there
Unsteady, while his coursers loosely rein'd
Roam wide the field; not so the charioteer
Of sound intelligence; he, though he drive
Inferior steeds, looks ever to the goal
While close he clips, not ignorant to check
His coursers at the first, but with tight rein
Ruling his own, and watching those before.”
Menesthus, emphatically one of the finest of the many fine riders
spoken of in the “Iliad,” or, as Homer himself describes him,
“foremost in equestrian fame,” is typical of the horsemen of that
period.
In the “Iliad” too we find what I believe I am right in stating to be
the first direct historical allusion to wagering on horse races. But
the medium current on racecourses in those days was not coin. The odds
apparently were laid in “kitchen utensils”—as a lad with whom I was at
school once construed the line, to his subsequent discomfiture—namely,
cauldrons and tripods.
Such, at least, we are led to infer from the paragraph in the
twenty-third book of the “Iliad,” which, according to William Cowper's
blank verse translation, edited by Robert Southey, runs somewhat as
follows:—
“Come now—a tripod let us wager each,
Or cauldron, and let Agamemnon judge
Whose horses lead, that, losing, thou mayst learn.”
Or more euphoniously, as Lord Derby has it:
“Wilt thou a cauldron or a tripod stake
And Agamemnon, Atreus' son, appoint the umpire
To decide whose steeds are first?”
The cauldrons and tripods referred to were of course of great value,
and, as trophies, highly prized by competitors in the races and other
competitions calling for a display of skill and daring.
There is another allusion in the “Iliad” to the presentation of a
tripod as a great reward for valour. It occurs in the eighth book, and
the passage goes more or less like this:
“Let but the Thunderer and Minerva grant
The pillage of fair Ilium to the Greeks,
And I will give to thy victorious hand,
After my own, the noblest recompense,
A tripod or a chariot with its steeds,
Or some fair captive to partake thy bed.”
I recollect how at school this passage, with several others, used
to be rigorously excluded when Homer was being construed, with the
result that Kelly's famous “Keys to the Classics” used afterwards to
be produced surreptitiously, and the “censored” lines turned carefully
into English.
* * * * *
From what Homer tells us elsewhere, and from additional sources, we
may conclude that of all the races that bred horses and took just
pride in them in the early centuries before Christ the Thracians were
probably the most renowned.
The brilliant horsemanship of “noble Patroclus of equestrian fame,”
the amiable and staunch friend of Achilles, must not be passed
unmentioned; nor the deeds of prowess that are attributed to
Euphorbus, “famous for equestrian skill, for spearmanship, and in the
rapid race past all of equal age”; nor yet the deeds of Hyperenor
whose skill in handling horses may be likened to the skill of Rarey in
our own time.
The following lines from the “Iliad” are of interest here because
they serve to indicate to some extent the style of harness and useless
trappings that must have been in vogue amongst the wealthy in Homer's
day:—
“So Hera, the goddess queen, daughter of great Cronos, went her way
to harness the gold-frontleted steeds; and Hebe quickly put to the
car the curved wheels of bronze, eight spoked, upon their axletree of
iron.”
Then:
“Golden is their felloe, imperishable, and tires of bronze are fitted
thereover, a marvel to look upon; and the naves are of silver, to turn
about on either side. And the body of the car is plaited tight with
gold and silver straps, and two rails run round about it.
“And a silver pole stood out therefrom; upon the end she bound the
fair golden yoke, and set thereon the fair breast-straps of gold, and
Hera led beneath the yoke the horses, fleet of foot, and hungered for
strife and the battle-cry.”
It has been argued that about the time of Homer gold and silver were
deemed to be comparatively of small value, and that therefore the
trappings described were not so costly as one naturally would conclude
they must have been.
Upon this point opinions are about equally divided.
Professor Ridgeway tells us that by comparing the foregoing
description with actual specimens of chariots and horse trappings
that have been found in Egypt we can form an accurate impression
of the appearance that was presented by the original old chariots,
and form also an idea of the way they were put together, while the
plaiting with straps of gold and silver recalls at once the floor of
the Egyptian chariot with its plaited leather meshwork—probably the
forerunner of leather springs.
* * * * *
Though Odysseus and Diomede are known to have mounted their Thracian
horses, we have it on irrefutable evidence that at this period
chariots were still generally used, so that most likely horses were
ridden but seldom.
Indeed the Homeric poems provide us with probably as much authentic
information as to the methods of managing and breeding horses that
were in vogue in Greece, in Thrace, and in Asia Minor in the very
early years before Christ, as any half-dozen other volumes put
together that purport to deal with the ways and customs of a period of
which, when all is said, little enough is known.
Naturally the Thracians had in those days some of the best horses
that could be procured, while those they drove in their war chariots
are said to have been quite unrivalled. That they possessed very
many chariots is proved by Homer's realistic account of the slaying
of Rhesus, the Thracian king, with a dozen or so of his bravest
followers, and the episode in connection with that incident.
Indeed when Odysseus and Diomede had captured Dolon, the Trojan
spy, the latter at once declared that there were “also Thracians,
new-comers, at the furthest point apart from the rest, and amongst
them their king, Rhesus, son of Eioneus,” adding that his were “the
fairest horses that ever I beheld, and the greatest, whiter than snow,
and for speed like the winds. His chariot too is fashioned well with
gold and silver, and golden is his armour that he brought with him,
marvellous, a wonder to behold.”
Apparently most of the horses bred by the Acheans at about this time
were either dun-coloured or dapple. _Xanthos_ signifies Dun, and
_balios_ dapple; but then we have to remember that _xanthos_ was used
frequently to denote also the colour of gold.
Achilles' steeds were mostly dapple-dun, and they had more or less
heavy manes. They belonged most likely to the breed so popular among
the Sigynnæ of central Europe about the fifth century B.C. Certainly
Homer makes it plain that in the early Iron Age horses were bred in
many parts of Greece; that, though driving was a common practice,
riding was indulged in but rarely; that cavalry in battle was quite
unknown; and lastly that though the heroes, as they were called,
fought mainly in chariots, the great body of the army consisted of
well-trained infantry.
As time went on horsemanship apparently came to be appreciated more
and more, for we read that about the year 648 B.C.—the thirty-third
Olympiad—“a race for full-grown riding horses” was inaugurated in
addition to the chariot races, and there appear to have been plenty
of entries. Then though the war chariot had disappeared almost
completely, before the outbreak of the Persian Wars, its place was not
taken by well-appointed and well-equipped cavalry until some years
later.
* * * * *
Though little attention need be paid to the Greek legend that Pegasus
was the first horse ever ridden—a legend not mentioned in Homer—it
nevertheless is interesting to know that this historic animal was
supposed to have been foaled in the Bronze Age, and in Libya. That
naturally would have been prior to the arrival of the fair-haired
Acheans from Central Europe, so one need not be astonished, as several
writers obviously are, at finding that when these large-limbed Acheans
first appeared the Greeks already knew how to ride.
At the same time they seldom did ride their dun-coloured little cobs,
preferring, apparently, to drive them in pairs in chariots. That the
Libyans were finished horsemen centuries before the Greeks learnt how
to ride has already been mentioned; though whether or no the Greeks
were first taught horsemanship by the Libyans is a question still
debated by students of ancient history.
* * * * *
In the north-west of Asia Minor the Libyans had dark bay horses with a
white star upon the forehead about the year 1000 B.C., and a hundred
or so years later horses of this breed were largely imported into
various parts of Asia Minor.
Indeed some of the more enthusiastic of the modern historians who have
studied closely the descent of horses from generation to generation
persist in maintaining that even in Great Britain and Ireland modern
horses with this white star upon the forehead have in their veins some
Libyan blood! How this can well be when we know almost without doubt
that until towards the close of the Bronze or the beginning of the
Iron Age the horse was hardly made use of at all by the inhabitants
of these islands, I leave it to more learned men to decide among
themselves.
It is remarkable that whereas from very early times horses of
Asiatic-European breeds have proved more or less unmanageable except
when bitted, the horses of Libya are known to have been controlled
quite easily by nosebands only. Some of the nosebands, or rather
halters, used in early times were made of plaited straw, and to-day
halters of almost similar make and pattern are still employed in
certain of the more remote parts of Ireland.
The bits found most suitable for Asiatic-European horses were made
first of all of horn, then chiefly of bone, later of copper, and
finally of bronze and iron. Homer, in his “Iliad,” alludes to bits of
bronze placed between the horse's jaws, and this probably is one of
the first instances of literary evidence we have that a thousand years
before Christ's birth horses were controlled by bits.
Of course Xenophon has much to say upon the question of bits and
bitting, and his capital treatise on horsemanship throws valuable
light also upon the horse in its relation to the history of that
epoch, as we shall see. Upon one point in particular in this
connection Xenophon lays great stress. He maintains it to be
imperative that every horseman shall possess two bits for his horse or
horses, one with links of moderate size, and one with sharp and heavy
links, bidding us at the same time remember that “whatever sorts of
bits be used, they should be flexible, for where a horse seizes a
rigid bit he has the whole of it fast between his teeth ... but the
other sort is similar to a chain, for whatever part of it be taken
hold of, that part alone remains unbent—the rest hangs.”
So that apparently bits single- and double-jointed, and therefore
flexible, were used in the early Iron Age by the people of
North-Western Europe.
[Illustration: COMBAT BETWEEN AMAZONS AND ATTIC HEROES. FOURTH
CENTURY, B.C. _From a Greek vase in the British Museum_]
* * * * *
By the beginning of the fourth century B.C. many, though not all, of
the Greek and the Macedonian mounted soldiers had come to consider
some sort of covering for the horse's back to be necessary to their
equipment; and so long previously as the eighth century B.C. horse
cloths had been adopted by the Assyrians, a people sufficiently wise
to realise from the first that a horse with something on his back is
more comfortable to sit upon than one without.
These early races probably would have employed cavalry several
centuries sooner than they eventually did, but for the difficulty they
experienced in arming themselves to their complete satisfaction when
mounted. Such peoples, for instance, as the Egyptians, the Assyrians,
and the Greeks of the Mycenean or Bronze Age, habitually protected
themselves with the aid of large and oblong shields when they fought
on foot, but on horseback these shields proved cumbersome. Possibly
that was the reason that when the Normans and other Teutonic races
began to fight on horseback they so soon discarded their round and
clumsy shields in favour of a shield broad at the top and tapering
downward, the shape of shield we see on the Bayeux tapestry.
With regard to the war chariots in use before this time, we may be
quite sure that even the very first employed had not wheels cut from
solid blocks as some are represented as having, though possibly the
most primitive of the agricultural chariots were so constructed.
For the rest, the early chariots of the Egyptians of the eighteenth
dynasty, and in use in India under the Vedic Aryans, and amongst the
Hittites, the Assyrians, the Persians, the Libyans, the Mycenean
Greeks, the Homeric Acheans, the Gauls of Northern Italy and in Gaul
itself; also among the ancient Britons and the early Irish, had wheels
with a hub, a felloe, and spokes, the latter from four to twelve in
number.
And inasmuch as this information bears indirectly upon the horse in
his relation to early historical records, it is not out of place here.
To return again to the question of harness, we have it on the
authority of Herodotus that “the Greeks learned from the Libyans to
yoke four horses to a chariot,” and we know already that before the
time of Herodotus, who wrote in the fifth century B.C., the Greeks had
found Libyans riding astride horses and driving sometimes two-horse
and occasionally four-horse chariots. At that time—about 632 B.C.—the
Greeks were planting Cyrene.
White horses were in ancient days at all times largely in demand
among the people of the various nations; and while Pindar alludes
incidentally to white horses being ridden by the Thessalians in his
time, Sophocles, writing half-a-century or so later, describes a
Thessalian chariot that was drawn by white horses.
One of the regions in which white horses were bred, probably in great
numbers, was the banks of the Caspian where the River Bug flows from
it, for Herodotus states clearly that “around a great lake from which
the River Hypanis (called now the Bug) issued, there grazed wild
white horses.” Those particular animals possibly may have been in
reality only tarpans in their winter coats, and not actually horses.
The point has been argued more than once, but has never been quite
settled. A white horse famous towards the close of the fifth or early
in the fourth century was Kantake, of the notorious Prince Gautama,
but nothing need be said about it here, trustworthy records being
unprocurable.
The great cities of Magna Græcia—Sybaris, Tarentum, Croton, and so
on—obviously had formidable cavalry in the sixth century B.C.; Sicily
and Southern Italy being almost equally renowned for the riding horses
obtainable there. The statagem to which the Crotonians had recourse in
510 B.C. to bring about the fall of Sybaris has been described, and it
is said that for some years prior to the destruction of the city some
five or six thousand of the inhabitants were in the habit of riding in
procession on horseback upon the occasions of the great festivals held
there.
CHAPTER II
Increasing interest in horses—Herodotus; Thucydides; war chariots
of the Persians—Horses represented on coinage—Wooden horse of
Troy—The Parthenon frieze; Greek art—Plato; white horses—The
procession of Xerxes; horses and men sacrificed—The horse of
Darius—Horse racing introduced among the Romans—Xenophon and
Simo—Early horseshoes, bits and bitting; ancient methods of
mounting
As we gradually approach the time of Christ we find increasing
interest being taken in horses by the kings and great chiefs of
different countries, for the value of cavalry in war was now quickly
becoming manifest.
In the early days of the Homeric or Iron Age the Celts of Noricum and
the Danube, though still retaining chariots, had begun to ride on
horseback, and by the third century B.C. these Celtic tribes already
possessed well-trained and very formidable cavalry. As a natural
result the demand for still better horses grew steadily, and soon it
became common to import horses into the Upper Balkan, and countries
beyond the Alps, from the Mediterranean area.
Perhaps the best description of a chariot race at Delphi is to be
found in the _Electra_ of Sophocles—Sophocles flourished in the third
century B.C. At about the same period Herodotus tells us that the
Sigynnæ, the only tribe north of the Danube that he mentions by name,
had “horses with shaggy hair five fingers long all over their bodies.”
These horses were “small and flat-nosed and incapable of carrying men,
but when yoked under a chariot were very swift.”
Consequently the natives drove them largely in chariots.
Though Herodotus does not allude to the colour of these small,
flat-nosed horses, there is reason to believe that dun was the colour
most prevalent at about this time. With regard to the horses of
Northern Britain Dio Cassius says that two of the chief tribes—namely,
the Caledonians and the Mæatæ—“went to war in chariots, as their
horses were small and fleet,” while when the Gauls passed into Italy,
towards the beginning of the fourth century B.C., they drove chariots
but did not ride, in which respect they resembled the Sigynnæ north of
the Danube.
Thucydides, writing at the end of the third century B.C., speaks with
interest on the subject of horses' hoofs, pointing out that the reason
so many of the cavalry horses of the Athenians went lame towards the
close of the Peloponnesian War was not that they had been wounded,
as some historians have averred, but owing simply to their not being
shod. This was after the Spartans had occupied Decelea and suffered
their heavy loss.
Alcibiades, in the third century B.C., had many horses, and in the
sixth book of “Thucydides” he tells us in his speech that he sent into
the lists no less than seven chariots, adding that “no other man ever
did the like”; and later he goes on to mention that he won the first,
second and fourth prizes.
Apparently Alcibiades knew his world, and if so it would seem that his
world was not unlike the world we know to-day, for in another passage
he sententiously yet philosophically tells us that we “must not expect
to be recognised by our acquaintance when we are down in the world;
and on the same principle why should anyone complain when treated with
disdain by the more fortunate?”
This particular sentence is according to the translation of
“Thucydides” by the late Professor Jowett, who leaves us to infer what
we please concerning the sociological views held by Alcibiades.
Among the first to employ war chariots with scythes intended to mow
down the enemy were the Persians, if historical records are to be
trusted, and we read that the chariots they used in the battle of
Cunaxa, in 401 B.C., were provided with sharp blades, while in after
years the people of Syria had war chariots with spears as well as
scythes.
Thus in the bloody battle fought between Eumenes of Pergamus, and
Antiochus of Syria, to mention but a single instance, Antiochus had
four-horse chariots with scythes and spears in his front line of
battle, whereupon Eumenes purposely “created terror” amongst these
horses, with the result that they turned suddenly and dashed back into
the lines of Antiochus, spreading devastation and death on all sides
in their own ranks.
Certain it is that upon that occasion many horses were cut to pieces
by the scythes, but for a full and graphic description of what
happened I must refer the reader to the thirty-seventh chapter of the
immortal “Livy.”
* * * * *
The esteem in which horses, especially war horses, were held in the
centuries that immediately preceded the coming of Christ may to some
extent be gathered from the prominence accorded to them when coins to
be used as the circulating medium began to come into general vogue.
Thus on the first of the Carthaginian coins—they were struck in the
third century B.C.—we find represented a horse upon one side, a
palm-tree upon the other, while on the coins of the important Sicilian
settlement, Panormus, a horse is shown.
I have tried to disentangle from a mass of only semi-trustworthy
records the true origin of the well-known saying: “He has Seius' horse
in his stable.” So far as one can ascertain, it is traceable to the
fates of the various ill-starred owners of the horses of Gnæus Seius,
from Seius down to Anthony. Plutarch says that the famous Philip II.
loved to commemorate his Olympian victories by stamping the figure of
a steed upon some of his coins, and certainly he was devoted both to
horses and horse racing. We read too that between 359 and 336 B.C. he
entered both chariots and riding horses for the Olympian competitions.
[Illustration: GREEK COINS SHOWING HORSES IN THE EARLY CENTURIES
BEFORE CHRIST
_1, 3. Agrigentum. 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9. Syracuse. 8. Asia Minor and
Greece. Philip of Macedon. 10. Hellenestic period. Hiero of Sicily_]
Similarly a proportion of the Sicilian coinage bore the impression
of a horse, and many of the great chariot races are commemorated on
coins. Several of the Agrigentine coins, for instance, show a quadriga
driven by winged Nike, in commemoration probably of the victory of
Exænetus, while some of the coinage of Syracuse dating back so far
as 500 B.C., and even earlier, represents a four-horse chariot upon
the face of the tetradrachms, and, on the didrachms, a man riding
one horse and leading another. Some of the drachms show merely a man
mounted.
Indeed we are told that Gela not only prided herself on her victories
won on the race track, but upon what was, of course, of more
importance—her splendid cavalry. A number of her coins represent
a four-horse chariot, some a two-horse chariot, and occasionally
a wounded foe being speared to death by a horseman, galloping or
stationary. These coins probably are among the earliest of their kind
ever struck.
The most ancient of all representations of Sicilian horses,
however, which serve to prove that the Sicilians were beyond doubt
a horse-loving race, is the quadriga on one of the metopes of the
archaic temple of Silenus, believed to have been founded in 628 B.C.
While upon the subject of sculpture, casual reference must be made
to the notorious Wooden Horse of Troy, described fully in Homer and
alluded to centuries later by Virgil, the horse of which the famous
sculptor, Strongylon, made a model in bronze towards probably the
close of the fifth century.
The story of this horse hardly needs repetition, but briefly it is to
the effect that soon after Hector's death Ulysses commanded Epeios
to construct a wooden horse of great size that ostensibly was to be
used as an offering to the gods to please them and thus ensure a safe
voyage back to Greece.
Unsuspectful of treachery, the Trojans received the great effigy and
brought it into their city; whereupon, in the dead of night, the Greek
soldiers hidden within it crept cautiously out, pounced silently upon
the Trojan guards and slew them before they could defend themselves;
then opened the gates of Troy, let in their own soldiery, and finally
set fire to the city.
Menelaus is said to have been among the Greeks concealed in the wooden
horse.
If evidence in addition to that already given be needed to prove that
the ancient Greeks held horses in high esteem, and that the Grecian
conquests were probably in a great measure due to the help afforded by
the possession of horses, notice has only to be taken of the vastness
of the space occupied by the Athenian cavalry shown on the Parthenon
frieze.
Indeed at about this period probably no accomplishment was quite so
highly esteemed as horsemanship, with the result that the wealthy
classes began to pay special attention to the training their sons
received in it, while treatises were published upon the art and how
best it might be acquired.
The first horsemen of whom we have indisputably authentic records
invariably rode bareback, and, with the exception of the Libyans,
used some sort of bit. According to Xenophon—and apparently no
other historian of his time is so thoroughly to be trusted for
strict accuracy—the Greeks of the fifth century B.C. were almost as
fastidious upon the subject of bits and bittings as some hunting men
of to-day are.
Some writers upon this subject have erred. Thus the impression is
prevalent that the horses of the ancient Greeks were all much smaller
than modern horses, and the steeds shown on the Parthenon frieze are
sometimes said to afford proof that this was so. A proportion of the
horses of those early times undoubtedly were smaller than the modern
horse is, but on the other hand plenty were not. Probably the mistaken
critics base their assertion upon the fact that the men shown on the
Parthenon frieze and similar compositions, also on some of the vase
paintings of that period, apparently are as tall as, or taller than,
the horses beside which they are standing or on which they are mounted.
The reason men and horses are so represented simply is that according
to a standard rule of ancient Greek art the heads of men and animals,
and of all other figures shown on such compositions, must be as nearly
as possible upon a level, even though some of the figures may be
standing, some seated, some on horseback, some in chariots.
This rule, known as “Isokelismos,” is of course in direct opposition
to the rule of nature, yet as it existed it had to be observed, and
therefore no attempt should ever be made to compare the height of men
or beasts shown in such representations as the Parthenon frieze merely
by the appearance and the proportions they present. By observing how
far below the horses' bellies the feet of the mounted men hang, an
approximate idea of the height of the men by comparison with that of
some of their horses may be arrived at.
* * * * *
Herodotus is of opinion that about the year 480 B.C. finer horses were
owned by the Nisæan than by any other people of Asia, and he mentions
that white horses were so highly valued by the Persians of about that
period—who are known to have used many white horses for sacrificial
purposes—that “some three hundred and sixty horses, or about one for
every day in the year, and five hundred talents of silver,” was the
tribute sent by the Sicilians. This statement leads to the conclusion
that white horses must have been exceptionally plentiful in the region.
That Armenia had many horses, which were largely used even so far
back as the fifth century B.C., can be gathered from the writings of
Ezekiel, for the prophet does not hesitate to declare that the people
of Togarmah, which presumably was part of Armenia, traded in the fairs
in horses and mules.
Pindar, who so glorified King Arcesilas, tells us that Cyrene became
famous as the city of steeds and goodly chariots, and later the poet
Callimachus sang of his home “famed for her steeds.” Hiero II. of
Syracuse owed practically all his great successes to the fact that
he owned horses of considerable value, and to this day figures in
marble of horses dedicated by him in commemoration of his victories at
Olympia are to be seen in the local museum of Delphi.
Almost every year attempts are made by wealthy Americans and others to
purchase some of these figures, but down to the present such attempts
have proved of no avail.
Plato, again, has much to say upon the horse in its relation to the
history of his epoch. Thus in one place he writes: “We must mount our
children on horses in their earliest youth, and take them on horseback
to see war, in order that they may learn to ride; the horses must not
be spirited or warlike, but the most tractable and yet the swiftest
that can be had; in this way they will get an excellent view of what
is hereafter to be their business; and if there is danger they have
only to follow their elder leaders and escape.”
Agrigentum—until 405 B.C., when it was destroyed by the
Carthaginians—was famous for its horses. It is said that on one
occasion, when one of the best-known citizens, Exænetus, won the
principal chariot race at Olympus, the entire population came forth
to meet him, and that he was preceded into the city by 300 chariots
drawn by pairs of white horses. Indeed some of the most gorgeous
monuments ever erected to the memory of famous race horses were
those raised in this city during the period of its splendour.
[Illustration: 1. THE EMPEROR TRAJAN. SHOWING ROMAN STYLE OF RIDING
2. THE EMPEROR THEODOSIUS. SHOWING SADDLE
3. A PARTHIAN HORSEMAN. SHOWING PARTHIAN STYLE OF RIDING BAREBACK
4. SARMATHIAN HORSE AND WARRIOR. MEANT TO REPRESENT HORSE AND RIDER IN
ARMOUR MADE OF PLATES OF BONE OR OF HORSE-HOOF]
* * * * *
We have it on good authority that, some centuries before Christ, the
Persian men of rank deemed it derogatory to be seen on foot, and that
they habitually rode on horseback. Yet in common with the people of
many other races they were addicted to immolating horses on festival
days, while the practices in which they indulged upon these occasions
are said to have been barbarous in the extreme.
In almost every age white horses in particular would seem to have been
used for sacrificial purposes. The Persians sacrificed bulls as well
as horses, a bull and a horse being sometimes bound together and then
immolated. Arrian mentions that one horse at least was sacrificed to
Cyrus every month, the ceremony being usually performed at Pasargadea,
close to the famous tomb. Here again white horses were used for the
sacrifices, for among the Persians in particular the white horse was
for many centuries deemed sacred and pronounced “beloved of the gods.”
One of the descriptions that probably gives a true account of a
triumphal march in the third century B.C. is that of Herodotus, where
he describes the procession of Xerxes. The following order, he tells
us, was observed.
There came first 1000 carefully selected horsemen, then 1000 carefully
selected spearsmen, then ten sacred Nisæan horses “splendidly
caparisoned.” These horses were called Nisæan, we are incidentally
told, because they were especially reared on the plains of Nisæa, in
Media, at that period famous for its great horses.
Next came the sacred car of Zeus, drawn by eight white horses
“followed by charioteers on foot holding their bridles, for no mortal
was allowed to mount the seat.” Xerxes himself brought up the train,
usually in a chariot drawn by Nisæan horses, with his charioteer
beside him.
* * * * *
The people of almost every nation of whom we have authentic records
would appear to have been addicted in the centuries before Christ
to the atrocious practice of sacrificing live horses to their gods.
Particulars of the weird rites observed in connection with these
sacrifices are for the most part too revolting to be described here,
but one practice observed by the Scythians cannot well be passed
unnoticed.
This people inhabited chiefly the treeless steppes of Asia, and is
known to have sacrificed animals of many kinds, but horses most of
all, and usually white or dun horses.
Thus we are told that when a Scythian king died, his favourite
horse, his favourite concubine, and several important members of his
establishment, preferably his cook and his cupbearer, were buried with
him. When a year had passed, a further ceremony took place.
This consisted in the execution, generally by strangulation, of some
fifty of the strongest, handsomest and generally most desirable young
men—probably young men who had belonged to his suite—and in the
strangulation also of an equal number of the best horses that had
belonged to him.
Then, without delay, the bodies of men and horses were disembowelled,
next they were stuffed with chaff or straw, and finally when the
horses, supplied each with a bit and bridle, had been set up in a
circle round the tomb of the deceased monarch, the bodies of the
slaughtered men were set astride them.
And there the ghastly squadron remained until it fell away to dust.
That the literary records in which these gruesome details are to be
found are accurate, has to some extent been proved by discoveries made
from time to time—as for instance at the opening of the great tumuli
in Russia about half-a-century ago.
Indeed during the thirteenth century A.D. ceremonies equally revolting
are known to have been performed regularly among the Tartars, while
at the funeral of Frederic Casimir, Commander of Lorraine, in 1781,
a horse was killed, and then buried with its master, and at even so
recent a date as the funeral of Li Hung Chang a horse and chariot
made of paper were, according to the newspaper reports, burned at
the grave-side—probably a last survival of some weird rite of a
sacrificial nature observed formerly in China and Japan.
Another race known to have immolated live horses, especially white
horses, was the Veneti. This people lived at the head of the Adriatic,
and their name survives to this day in “Venice.”
The sacrifice of white horses was common too amongst the Scandinavian
and the Teutonic races, and formed part of their religion. The
Sicilian Greeks, again, are said to have set a high value upon white
horses, and to have sacrificed them under the impression that by doing
so they afforded additional gratification to their gods.
It would appear, indeed, that in all ages white animals were looked
upon as sacred in a sense, for in parts of India the white elephant is
deemed sacred to this day, and in parts of Persia the white ass. Then,
in the fifth century B.C., the nomad Scythians, whose territories lay
chiefly to the north of the River Don, owned immense herds of horses.
These they used principally for food, while the milk of the mares they
drank and made domestic use of in other ways, a practice long in vogue
among the Turko-Tartaric tribes of Central Asia, and said to be still
in vogue with them in remote regions.
Bearing upon early Persia is rather a well-known story that on the
death of the famous Smerdis the seven princes who were his possible
successors agreed to confer the throne upon the owner of the horse
that should be the first to neigh when they all met on the following
day. The groom of Prince Darius having been told of this, had recourse
to a clever ruse, for on that same evening he led his master's horse
to the exact spot where the horses were all to meet on the day
following, and there showed the horse a mare. Upon arriving at this
spot next day the horse, as we are told, “neighed furiously,” so that
Darius won his kingdom!
We know that Hiero, King of Syracuse, who flourished towards the end
of the third and during the beginning of the second century, B.C.,
won the great Olympic crown with his good horse Phrenicus. In simple
language Tacitus describes how the people of Thurii—the city built on
the ruins of Sybaris about the year 443 B.C.—first taught horse racing
to the Romans.
Although towards the end of the second century B.C., bareback riding
was still quite common, a covering of some sort for the horse's back
was becoming much more popular among the Greeks despite the adherence
to bareback riding by the jockeys at the principal festivals.
Atiphanes, the “gentle humourist,” whose plays were performed in
public for the first time towards the close of the second century
B.C., alludes to “coverlets for a horse,” this being probably one of
the first references we have to saddles among the early Greeks.
* * * * *
And now we come to Xenophon, one of the most finished of horsemen
among the ancient Greeks, and apparently a true lover of horses. With
the exception of an individual named Simo, or Simon, who wrote before
Xenophon's time, there had not existed a man with deep and practical
knowledge of horses or horsemanship, and the care of horses, who was
able to write lucidly upon these subjects until Xenophon wrote with so
much success his own exhaustive work.
Xenophon speaks of Simo—who, according to Suidas, was by birth an
Athenian—on more than one occasion. Xenophon, however, did not hold
Simo in high esteem, as we may gather from the former's tone of
condescension when he states that though Simo wrote with some
knowledge of horses, yet that he entertained an exalted opinion of
himself that was unpardonable.
[Illustration: A PORTION OF THE PARTHENON FRIEZE, EXECUTED BY PHIDIAS
ABOUT THE YEAR 440 B.C.]
The truth of that statement is borne out by the evidence we have that
when, on a famous occasion, Simo presented the brazen horse to the
temple of the Eleusinian Ceres, at Athens, he had the effrontery to
engrave upon the pedestal his own works!
Though when expressing opinions upon the points of a horse the ancient
Greeks differed rather widely in their views, yet most of the rules
laid down by Xenophon are as applicable to-day as they were some three
and twenty centuries ago.
We read, for instance, that “the neck of the horse, as it proceeds
from the chest, should not fall forward, like that of a boar,
but should grow upward, like that of a cock, and should have an
easy motion at the parts about the arch.” That the advice was not
overlooked, even by early artists, can be accurately conjectured if
the Parthenon frieze be inspected, for there almost every horse shown
has a neck “like that of a cock.” Xenophon then proceeds:
“If a horse has the thighs under the tail broad and not distorted,
he will set his hind legs well apart, and will by that means have a
firmer and quicker step, a better seat for a rider, and be better in
every respect. We may see,” he continues, “a proof of this in men,
who when they wish to take up anything from the ground do try to raise
it by setting their legs apart rather than by bringing them together.”
These remarks are sensible, yet probably there are few modern horsemen
ready to admit that a horse's hoof should be high and hollow, and the
frog kept up from the ground “as well before as behind,” which was
Xenophon's opinion. Then in his time saddles and stirrups had not,
apparently, been thought of, for we read that when first introduced
they were looked upon with scorn, all who used them being laughed
at and deemed to take rank among what we should call in these days
“muffs.”
As already noted, Xenophon had something to say upon bits and bitting,
and he describes at length the advantages of the jointed over the
rigid bit. Also he alludes to the custom of wearing spurs, and
describes incidentally the construction of the prick spurs then in
vogue.
In this connection it is interesting to note that a bit was discovered
in the Acropolis of Athens some twenty years ago, which, so it is
said, dates back to the early Persian wars of 490-479 B.C.
* * * * *
Certain modern writers of books upon subjects more or less historical
speak of horse doctors. Some twenty-three centuries ago, however, even
the acknowledged experts upon horses and horse breeding would seem to
have possessed only crude anatomical knowledge of the animal, some
of the advice they tendered in cases of illness amongst horses being
grotesque.
Equally it is evident that professional horse breakers and trainers,
also professional riding masters, were known in Greece in Xenophon's
day, and possibly before his time.
There is something rather delightful about Xenophon's ingenuousness
when he tells us quite seriously that “a horse that has no longer the
marks in his teeth, neither rejoices the buyer with hope, nor is easy
to be exchanged”! He speaks too with emphasis when assuring us that
when carefully examining a horse with a view to purchase we ought to
pay most attention to the hoofs—advice to some extent discounted by
remarks he makes a few lines further on.
“To sum up all in a few words,” he says elsewhere, “whatever horse
has good feet, is mild-tempered, sufficiently swift, and able to
endure fatigue, and is in the highest degree obedient, will probably
give least trouble to his rider and contribute most to his safety
in military occupations. But horses that from sluggishness require
a great deal of driving, or, from excess of mettle, much coaxing
and care, afford plenty of employment to the rider, as well as much
apprehension in time of danger.”
The ancients evidently had a rooted antipathy to adopting any kind
of contrivance calculated to afford protection for their horses'
hoofs. Upon several occasions attempts were made to introduce metal
horseshoes, but in vain. The device most resembling a horseshoe, that
they were willing to consider and of which we have a trustworthy
description, was a covering not unlike a sandal made of reeds, or, in
rare instances, of leather. In reality it resembled a boot rather than
a horseshoe, but it was used only where the ground was very rough or
exceptionally hard.
In parts of Japan boots of this kind, made of straw, are worn to this
day. Berenger speaks of a horseshoe said to have been in use in the
time of Childeric, whose date was 481, A.D., and most likely it was
one of the first horseshoes, properly so called, of which any record
is extant.
If the figure of it preserved in Montfaucon's “Antiquities” is to be
relied upon for accuracy, then it somewhat resembled the shoe in use
to-day.
It seems clear that Xenophon was not an advocate for docking horses'
tails, at any rate to the exaggerated extent we so often see them
docked to-day, also that he was not partial to the hogged mane,
for in speaking of the horse's fore-lock, “while these hairs,” he
avers, “though of good length, do not prevent the horse from seeing,
they brush away from his eyes whatever annoys them. Therefore we may
suppose that the gods gave such hairs to the horse instead of the long
ears which they have given to asses and mules to be a protection to
the eyes.”
* * * * *
A question sometimes set when the subject of early horsemanship is
under discussion is: How used the ancients to mount, seeing that they
placed at best only cloths on their horses' backs, and that they had
not stirrups?
Historical records contain information upon the point, and we read
that in the centuries before Christ horses were mounted apparently in
three ways—by the rider's vaulting without assistance on to the back;
by his vaulting or mounting with the aid of a pole; by his making the
horse crouch.
There was a fourth way, but for an obvious reason it was less often
resorted to. This was by making a slave bend his back, or kneel on all
fours, and by then stepping upon him—using him as a mounting-block,
in short. The last-named method was common in Persia, where Sapor,
when he had conquered the Emperor Valerian, forced him thus to debase
himself to show his complete subjection.
I believe I am right in saying that the soldiery used sometimes to
mount with the aid of a spear. Xenophon, in his seventh chapter,
instructs the horseman to mount “by catching hold of the mane, about
the ears,” a feat surely impossible to perform save when mounting a
pony.
In the illustration of a Sarmatian on horseback, facing page 33, both
a man and horse are shown in armour made of horse-hoof cut into little
plates, which, Pausanias tells us in his Attics, were sewn together
with the sinews of oxen and horses. Sometimes bone was used in place
of horse-hoof, but iron never, there being no iron mines in the
country, to the knowledge of the Sarmatians. The soldier shown holding
up his horse's leg, in the illustration facing page 45, presumably is
about to tie on one of the “stockings” used in place of shoes; and on
the same plate a soldier is about to mount on the off (right) side.
[Illustration: ROMAN SOLDIER ABOUT TO ADJUST “STOCKING” USED IN PLACE
OF SHOES]
[Illustration: ROMAN SOLDIER ABOUT TO MOUNT ON OFF SIDE]
[Illustration: A MAURITANIAN HORSEMAN. SHOWING HOW THE MAURITANIANS
AND HUMIDIANS RODE WITHOUT SADDLE OR BRIDLE]
CHAPTER III
Xenophon disliked the “American” seat—Cavalry organised by the
Athenians—Cost of horses twenty-three centuries ago—Aristophanes;
Aristotle; Athenians' fondness for horse racing—Alexander the
Great; Bucephalus—Story of Bucephalus; his death—Famous painters
of horses: Apelles, Pauson, Micon—Mythical flesh-eating horses
of Diomed—Hannibal's cavalry of 12,000 horse—Coins—Posidonius;
horses of the Parthians, Iberians and Celtiberians
In spite of the derisive remarks often uttered concerning Xenophon's
advice to young riders, and his advice on horsemanship in general and
the care of horses, there is much sound sense in plenty of the hints
he gave to the Greek riders of three hundred years before Christ,
while many of the rules he laid down are as applicable to-day as they
probably were then.
His advice on the vexed question of bits and bitting, to take but a
single example, is very sound, while his strong objection to allowing
horses' legs to be washed frequently is shared by plenty of horse
owners at the present time.
Then, the old Athenian apparently disapproved of or disliked what we
have come to call the “American” seat on a horse, for he declares that
the legs of a man mounted should be almost straight, the body upright
and supple.
Attempts have repeatedly been made to trace the life of Xenophon prior
to the time when, in 401 B.C., he first joined the army of Cyrus, but
in vain. He is, however, known to have been a close friend of Socrates
from a very early age, and probably when he wrote the “Anabasis” he
was a little over thirty. But when he died, about the year 355 B.C.,
he was quite an old man.
Historians are almost unanimous in declaring that at Marathon, in 490
B.C., the Athenians were without cavalry, though by that time many of
the wealthy citizens undoubtedly owned horses, some of which they most
likely used for racing. When, however, the Athenians came to realise
what an amount of execution could be done, and to see the execution
that was done by the Persians, with the help of cavalry, they set to
work to organise in Athens, as quickly as possible, a powerful body of
mounted warriors.
How formidable that cavalry later on proved itself to be is well known
to all classical scholars, and the more surprising it therefore is
that the Greek cavalry should not afterwards have risen to the level
of that organised by Macedonians. Indeed, according to more than one
historian, the Greek cavalry was employed chiefly to harass an enemy
when marching, or to pursue a vanquished and retreating regiment,
while one writer at least maintains that the Greek cavalry at best
never approached within javelin range of an enemy's line of battle
during an attack.
The cost of horses at about this time varied almost as widely as it
does now. Thus it was not unusual to pay three minæ, the equivalent
of about fifteen guineas, for quite a common hack—an extraordinarily
high price when we bear in mind the purchasing value of money in those
days—while for trained war horses, or for race horses, any sum from
ten minæ upward was paid frequently.
Xenophon is known to have given approximately eleven minæ for a little
war horse that, so far as one can ascertain, did not afterwards fulfil
expectations, so perhaps it is hardly astonishing to read that some
years later the terms “horse owner” and “spendthrift” came to be
deemed more or less synonymous.
A list drawn up at about this time of the principal defects to be
guarded against when inspecting a horse with a view to purchase is
interesting, inasmuch as the points looked upon as faults three and
twenty centuries ago are with only a few exceptions deemed to be
egregious defects to-day.
The following is the list that was drawn up, so it is alleged, by
Pollux:
Hoofs with thin horn (_sic_); hoofs full, fat, soft and flat—or,
as Xenophon termed them, “low-lying”; heavy fetlocks; shanks with
varicose veins; flabby thighs; hollow shoulder-blades; projecting
neck; bald mane; narrow chest; fat and heavy head; large ears;
converging nostrils; sunken eyes; thin and meagre sides; sharp
back-bone; rough haunches; thin buttocks; stiff legs, stiff knees.
Though among the horses of the ancient Greeks the hogged mane must at
one time have been seen often enough, there does not appear to be in
the works of the early writers any direct allusion to the hogging of
horses as a regular practice.
Probably if the custom did exist it was on the wane by the time
Xenophon began to write. There is evidence to show that in ancient
Greece the horses at about this period were rather smaller than
those of most other countries of which we have authentic records, a
characteristic still noticeable amongst the horses in several parts of
modern Greece.
The Greeks almost always used entire horses for all purposes. Even
in war they did not employ geldings, a custom that has given rise to
the belief that in the centuries before Christ all horses, with the
exception of the Libyan steeds, were far more savage than the horses
of to-day.
Emphatically we have no reason to suppose that the Greeks made friends
and companions of their horses as the Arab race is known to do or to
have done, though the fable of Achilles' love for his horse named
Xanthus makes a pretty enough story. On the other hand, it is quite
possible that Xenophon may have been fond of horses not merely because
of the amusement they afforded him or the pleasure he derived from
riding and hunting.
For the rest the Greeks, in common with the people of most of the
warlike nations in those early days, enjoyed possessing horses mainly
because they served to enhance life's pleasure, and were of practical
use in war.
Certainly it may be said of Xenophon that he did not preach the
doctrine of kindness to horses without himself practising it
thoroughly, also that he was ever ready to rebuke severely all who
ill-treated their own horses or his.
Apparently the Greeks of about this era did not keep what we should
term to-day pleasure horses, though they affected pleasure horses in
the sense that they kept race horses. With the death of Xenophon we
lose touch, to some extent, with the progress of the horse in history,
but the thread is taken up again in the Roman period when Varro,
writing in 37 B.C., furnishes certain details that are of interest,
Virgil adding to them a little later in his “Georgics.”
After that we find instructive comment in the writings of Calpurnius
and Columella in the first century A.D.; in those of Oppian and
Nemesian in the third century; and in those of Apsyrtus, Pelagonius
and Palladius in the fourth century.
* * * * *
When all is said, Xenophon's information most likely is by far the
most trustworthy of any that has been handed down to us, in the same
way that his descriptions certainly are the most accurate. Only a few
fragments of the book by Simo, written probably about the year 460
B.C., remain; yet even those fragments contain peculiar statements.
Thus in addition to insinuating that Thessaly was the only region
famous for horses in the centuries before Christ—an assertion
indirectly gainsaid by Xenophon—he didactically remarks that the
colour of a horse ought not to be taken into consideration when the
animal's qualities are being summed up, a statement that the majority
of the early writers openly repudiated, and that, as most of us know,
is in every country deemed devoid of truth at the present day.
Though particulars are difficult to obtain, there is reason to believe
that the horse named after the Thracian river, Strymon—owing to its
having been bred in that vicinity—and that was immolated by Xerxes
before his invasion of Greece, was, as usual, a white horse.
By exactly what route horses were introduced into Greece has not
been ascertained for certain, but the fact that fossilised remains of
horses have not been found in Greece as they have been in many other
countries leads to the belief that the horse was not indigenous to the
country.
From a very remote period, however, we find horses represented on
vase paintings; and from these paintings too we are able practically
to prove that the Greeks had not rowels in their primitive spurs, but
that the spur consisted of a short goad attached to the heel of the
boot by means of a strap passing over the instep and another that
passed under the sole, almost as the modern hunting spur is strapped
on. Spurs of this kind have been discovered in Olympia, also in Magna
Græcia, and elsewhere.
With regard to the Greek bits and bridles of a later date, the former
apparently had no leverage—certainly they had no curb chain—while the
pattern of the bridle seems to have remained unaltered.
* * * * *
As we come nearer still to the time of Christ, we find the young men
of Athens growing fonder and fonder of horse racing and taking more
pains and spending much time and money in their attempts to improve
the breed of horses. And though the soil of Attica was by no means
adapted for purposes of horse rearing, it must in justice be said
that their attempts met with reward.
Thus it happened that about this time—that is to say towards the
close of the third or the beginning of the second century—the comic
poet, Aristophanes, who died in 380 B.C., began to inveigh against
the increasing popularity of horse racing, and against the spread of
gambling consequent thereon.
In his immortal comedy of _The Clouds_, it will be remembered, he
portrays a typical young spendthrift, Pheidippes, and an equally
typical indignant father, Strepsiades, both of whom would serve well
as latter-day types of men of the same stamp.
The son, when the comedy opens, has lost heavily on the turf and
incurred the displeasure, not to say roused the indignation, of his
father, in addition to burdening the old man heavily with his gambling
debts. Presently the son is sued by Pasion, a characteristic usurer of
that period, for the recovery of the entire sum of twelve minæ.
“For what with debts and duns and stablekeepers' bills,” Strepsiades
exclaims in exasperation in the opening lines, addressing his son
Pheidippes, who lies asleep before him—“what with debts and duns and
stablekeepers' bills which this fine spark heaps on my back, I lie
awake the whilst: and what cares he but to coil up his locks, ride,
drive his horses, dream of them all night....” And so on.
This gives us, to start with, an idea of the degree of popularity that
horse racing had attained in Greece at about this time, for Pheidippes
is meant to be a character drawn from life and typical of the young
punters of the period.
Later we learn that the money for which the father is being sued had,
in the first instance, been borrowed to pay for a “starling-coloured
horse”—whatever kind of weird creature that may have been. Possibly
“fleabitten” is intended, for the geographer, Strabo, speaks of “the
starling-coloured horses of the Parthians” and of the people of
Northern Spain, and it is known that plenty of those horses were of
the colour that we should term to-day “fleabitten.”
* * * * *
Aristotle is the next to enlighten us to some extent upon the growing
fondness of the Greeks for horses, especially for race horses and war
horses. He tells us too that about the average span the horses in
his time—the middle of the second century B.C., 384 to 322—lived was
eighteen to twenty years, though a few were said to have reached five
and twenty, and even thirty, and a very few indeed to have died at
fifty.
Whether the custom that then prevailed of feeding horses mostly
on barley proved beneficial or the reverse in the long run we are
not told. Finally we come to Alexander the Great and his renowned
Bucephalus, a horse bred, as we are told, by Philoneicus of Pharsalus,
a Thessalian.
Bucephalus, or rather Bucephal_os_, means ox head, or bull head, from
which we may conclude that whatever good points Bucephalus may have
had—and without doubt he had many—he certainly had not the fine head
of a modern hunter or the tapering muzzle of the thoroughbred that
nowadays we so much admire.
It has been stated that Bucephalus derived his name from a mark on the
left shoulder in the form more or less of a bull's head. As we know,
however, that many years before Alexander's Bucephalus was foaled
there existed a type of Thessalian horse upon which the same name had
been bestowed, the conjecture is probably a false one.
How great the fame of Bucephalus was may be gathered from the fact
that of all the horses possessed by the ancient Greeks down to this
date he alone is the animal over which they thoroughly “enthuse.” From
what we are told in the writings of Aristotle, indeed, and of later
historians, Bucephalus must have been quite a tall horse, well shaped,
coal-black, with a good shoulder and small ears. Also he had a white
star in the middle of his forehead, a mark characteristic of certain
Libyan breeds of old.
[Illustration: ALEXANDER THE GREAT ON HORSEBACK, ABOUT 338 B.C. THE
FIGURE IS BELIEVED TO REPRESENT BUCEPHALUS
_From a bronze in the British Museum_]
An unknown writer in the “Geoponics” avers that in the centuries
just before Christ many of the best horses had eyes of different
colour—what we sometimes term a wall eye, and Americans a China
eye—and from his own deductions he concludes that Bucephalus probably
had eyes that did not match. There does not, however, appear to be
direct evidence that this was so.
Plutarch sets the price paid for Bucephalus by Alexander's father,
King Philip, at thirteen talents, while Pliny is of opinion that the
price was higher still—namely, sixteen talents.
Now the sum that to-day would be the equivalent of thirteen talents
is approximately £3500, and when we bear in mind the prices that in
the second century frequently were paid even for the best horses
obtainable, and recollect, in addition, that at the time King Philip
bought Bucephalus the horse was probably aged—some writers aver that
he must have been quite fourteen when Philip bought him—it is not
possible to reconcile the statement that a fancy price in any way
approaching the sum named could have been paid.
The story of the trial and subsequent purchase of Bucephalus is both
pretty and picturesque. More, it would appear to be true in almost
every detail. According to Plutarch, whose account probably is the
most trustworthy, the horse was first brought before King Philip to
be given a public trial, when, to the discomfiture of its owner, it
showed itself to be apparently “a fierce and unmanageable beast that
would neither allow anybody to mount him, nor obey any of Philip's
attendants, but reared and plunged against them all, so that the king
in a rage bade them take him away for an utterly wild and unbroken
brute.”
At this juncture it was that Alexander—at the time a boy of twelve,
and Aristotle not yet his tutor—came upon the scene. We are told that
he “leapt suddenly forward and in an access of indignation cried out
before the king and everybody assembled that the men attempting to
ride the horse were 'clumsy clowns,'” adding, with the self-assurance
of precocious boyhood, that “if they were not careful they would spoil
the horse entirely.”
Philip at first paid no attention to his son's outburst, deeming it
to be childish spleen, but upon the lad's refusing to be quieted he
turned to him, suddenly nettled, and demanded in a sharp tone how he
dare be so insolent as to criticise his elders. In no way abashed,
Alexander retorted that in this instance he certainly did know much
better than his elders, and that if his father would allow him he
would prove it by himself mounting the horse at once and riding it
round the ring.
“And what will you forfeit for your rashness if you are thrown off?”
the king inquired, not troubling to conceal his anger.
To which young Alexander retorted with much spirit:
“The price of the horse, by Zeus!”
It is hardly likely that Alexander, rash though he undoubtedly was,
would have said this if the price at which Bucephalus was valued
amounted to a sum in talents equivalent to thousands of pounds, for
King Philip though a just ruler was a stern father, and Alexander must
have known that his father would extort the forfeit should he fail to
ride the horse.
The lad's reply, we are told, was received with shouts of laughter.
This public expression of ridicule it may have been that set the boy
upon his mettle, for without further parley he ran out into the arena,
ordered his father's attendants aside, and then, grasping the reins,
began to pat the horse's neck and “soothe him with soft words.”
For the boy had observed what apparently nobody else had
noticed—namely, that the horse grew restive at the sight of its own
shadow. Without waiting, therefore, he turned the horse to face
the sun, then at once “sprang up and bestrode him unharmed.” Next,
gradually and very gently, and using neither whip nor spur, he made
Bucephalus move round and round in a circle until the animal no longer
feared its shadow and then when it had, as we are told, “given up all
threatening behaviour, and was only hot for the course,” he gave the
horse its head, “urging him onward by raising his voice and using his
heel.”
At the sight of this fine display of horse breaking and horsemanship
the spectators, now somewhat abashed at the haste they had been in
to jeer, grew silent. But not for long. Presently, as Alexander came
galloping back, “full of just pride and pleasure,” the assembled
multitude, including the king's attendants, “of one accord raised a
great cheer, lifting up their hands from pure joy.”
Philip himself must have been of an emotional nature, for we read that
“he said nothing, but wept silently from pure joy.”
Possibly the lad too suffered from “pure joy” at that moment, for upon
his dismounting his father advanced with the remark that Macedonia was
“not big enough for such a son,” that he “must go look for a kingdom
to match him.”
Which shows that even in the centuries before Christ there was truth
in the popular platitude that nothing succeeds like success!
Then and there Bucephalus was bought for Alexander, and from that time
until its death, from wounds received in a battle fought against the
Indian king, Porus, the horse remained Alexander's favourite charger
and companion.
A remarkable peculiarity about this animal was that though
subsequently it came to allow the grooms to ride it bareback, yet
when it had on one of the cloths that at that period did duty for a
saddle it would allow only Alexander to mount it. As one writer neatly
says: “When others tried to mount the horse with the cloth on they
invariably had to take to their heels to save themselves from his.” It
is further recorded that when Alexander wished to mount, Bucephalus
would crouch of its own accord to enable its master to get on more
easily.
Alexander took Bucephalus with him on his famous expeditions into the
East, and on one occasion, in Hyrcania, the horse was stolen. The king
“thereupon became terrible to see, so great was his rage.” At once an
edict was issued that unless the horse were returned to him without
delay he would “carry fire and sword throughout the country—north and
south, east and west, sparing neither men nor women, nor, if need be,
even the smallest children.”
A chronicler of the period, commenting upon this, drily observes that
when Alexander's determination became known, “the horse was returned
in a hurry!”
“Thus,” remarks Arrian, the great historian, “the horse must have been
as dear to Alexander as Alexander was terrible to the barbarians.” As
he here employs the word “barbarian” in its offensive signification
he evidently despised the people of Hyrcania because they had sense
enough to return the stolen horse instead of waiting with their kith
and kin to be slain or tortured!
In the descriptions of almost all the great victories won by Alexander
the Great, allusion is made to his favourite steed. We are told by
Gellius that in the battle that practically witnessed the death of
Bucephalus the king had pressed forward recklessly into the thick of
the fight, and apparently right into the enemy's lines, and had thus
become “the mark for every spear”—a statement which, if literally
true, points to an enemy made up of singularly inept marksmen.
“More than one spear,” he goes on, “was buried in the neck and flanks
of the horse, but, though at the point of death, and almost drained
of blood, he succeeded with a bold dash in carrying the king from the
very midst of the foe, and then fell, breathing his last tranquilly
now that he knew his master was safe, and as comforted by the
knowledge as if he had had the feelings of a human being.”
There is something about the concluding sentence that leads to the
belief that Gellius must have been either remarkably imaginative, or
else of a more romantic nature than the majority of his contemporaries
have given him credit for being. The last line in particular is very
precious. After reading it can one feel astonished at Alexander's
enthusiasm having carried him to the length of causing him to build
a city to the memory of the noble steed, a city to which he gave the
name Bucephala?
The handsome bronze discovered in Herculaneum is popularly supposed
to represent the figures of Alexander and Bucephalus. The work
probably of Lysippus—whom Alexander himself ordered to produce a
scene representing a fight during the great battle of Granicus—it is
extremely interesting.
A pleasing anecdote told of Alexander and Bucephalus, and more likely
to be true than are the majority of the tales that are related of
this horse and its owner, is to the effect that upon one occasion the
king went to inspect a portrait of himself mounted on his favourite
charger, that the distinguished painter, Apelles, had just completed.
Nettled at Alexander's scant praise of his work—for we are told the
picture was so lifelike that even Bucephalus neighed when first he saw
it—Apelles turned to the king with the rebuke:
“I fear me, your Majesty, that your horse is a better judge of
painting than his noble master.”
What retort the king made is not recorded, but the story recalls one
of a similar nature related of the famous artist, Pauson, who when
ordered to produce a picture of a horse rolling on its back, sent to
his patron a picture of a horse galloping madly through a cloud of
dust.
In a great rage the patron sent for Pauson, and, upon his arrival,
“began to storm and rave,” at the same time demanding to know what
had made him commit a blunder so egregious. Without replying, Pauson
walked up to the picture and turned it upside down, when, to the vast
amusement of the hitherto irate patron, there appeared a perfect
picture of a horse rolling on its back on a dusty plain.
Of the famous artist, Micon, it is related that he once incurred
the criticism of the rider, Simon, who, upon looking at one of his
pictures, remarked drily that never in his life before had he seen a
horse that had eyelashes on its lower lids!
* * * * *
It seems certain that in the centuries before Christ the steeds bred
in Thessaly were among the most highly prized, though the horses of
several other breeds—such, for instance, as the Argive, the Arcadian,
the Epidaurian and the Arcananian—possessed great courage and
exceptional power of endurance.
[Illustration: PERSIANS FIGHTING WITH ELEPHANTS AGAINST THE ROMANS,
ABOUT THE TIME OF PYRRHUS, 280 B.C.
_This picture has been wrongly attributed to Raphael_]
In the very early times Thessalian horses were used largely for
charioteering. Allusion is made repeatedly in the classics to these
Thessalian animals, stress being laid upon their symmetry, or what
to-day we should term their make and shape. The mythical mares of King
Diomed of Thrace, the tyrant whose grim humour, we are told, led
him to feed his horses on the strangers who visited his kingdom, were
alleged to be of the breed of Thessaly, a statement made indirectly in
the description of Hercules' conquest of the tyrant and his subsequent
“casting of the tyrant's quivering carcass to his own horses to be
devoured.”
Spenser alludes to this incident in the fifth book of his “Faerie
Queene,” in the following lines:—
“Like to the Thracian tyrant who, they say,
Unto his horses gave his guests for meat,
Till he himself was made their greedy prey,
And torn to pieces by Alcides great.”
Other mythical horses of the Thessalian breed were those of Achilles,
of Rhesus, and of Orestes in Sophocles' stirring description of the
race in _Electra_.
It seems safe to say that until about the fourth century B.C. the
Romans also did not use saddles, at least saddles with trees. That
somewhere about this period, however, they began to adopt what we
should call to-day saddlecloths, and that these were kept in place by
a strap or bandage in the nature of a girth that passed beneath the
belly, appears to be certain.
For some unknown reason this girth is more often than not omitted on
the works of art that represent horses of that period. Some of the
animals of the Parthenon frieze lead us to believe that on occasions
horses were still made to crouch when about to be mounted, though it
is not probable they crouched voluntarily, as Bucephalus did. From
impressions on the Parthenon frieze we may also conclude that the
mounting block was not unknown in the centuries before Christ.
A good idea of the exact stamp of horse harnessed to the war chariots
of those centuries may be obtained by inspecting the bronze horse of
the quadriga from the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, the date of the
Mausoleum being 331-341 B.C.—the building took ten years to erect.
This bronze is to be seen in the British Museum.
Hannibal's must have been the army the best provided with cavalry
down to the year 218 B.C., for in that year Hannibal advanced into
Italy with no less than 90,000 foot and some 12,000 horse, many of the
latter being native horses mounted by Numidians who persisted still in
scorning to use either saddle or bridle, though the cavalry division,
which consisted of Spaniards, employed bridles of an elaborate pattern.
How wholly superior Hannibal's cavalry proved to be to the Gallic
horsemen placed by Scipio in the front line of his javelin throwers is
well known to students of history. Indeed it was said that Hannibal's
horsemen were superior even to the Italian and the Roman cavalry,
which was high praise.
* * * * *
Probably from about the year 200 B.C., possibly from an even earlier
period, the Romans used spurs, apparently the common prick spurs
which remained in vogue until towards the middle of the thirteenth
century A.D. Some half-a-century later, or about the year 150 B.C.,
there were issued in succession a series of Gaulish silver coins, the
majority of which bore upon one side the impression of a horseman,
though comparatively few showed the chariot at one time so generally
represented on coins.
This leads naturally to the inference that the popularity of the
chariot was already waning. Chariots, however, continued to appear
upon the gold coins made in imitation of the gold stater of Philip II.
of Macedon, coins that bore on the face Apollo's head, on the reverse
a two-horse chariot.
Exceptionally fine horses, probably with Liberian blood in them, must
have been owned by the Iberians and Celtiberians at about the period
the Stoic philosopher Posidonius was travelling in Western Europe, and
when he incidentally visited Spain—about the year 90 B.C. Posidonius
himself remarks that the cavalry of the Iberians was trained to travel
over mountains, adding that these horses too would crouch when told
to, in order that their riders might mount or dismount with greater
ease.
A method to which this cavalry sometimes had recourse consisted in
their mounting two men on one animal. Then, in the heat of action, one
of the men would fight on foot, the other remaining by to defend him
if hard pressed. The same philosopher tells us that the horses of the
Parthians and Celtiberians “indeed were superior to all other breeds
in fleetness and endurance.”
CHAPTER IV
Virgil on the points of a horse—Cæsar's invasion—Abolition of war
chariots—Precursor of the horseshoe—Nero's 2000 mules shod with
silver; Poppæa's shod with gold—The Ossianic and Cuchulainn epic
cycles; Cuchulainn's horses—The Iceni on Newmarket Heath; early
horse racing in Britain—Horses immolated by the Romans; white
horses as prognosticators—Caligula's horse, Incitatus; Celer, the
horse of Verus; the horse of Belisarius
Virgil, whose famous “Georgics” was published about the year 29 B.C.,
incidentally shows how close the connection was that in his time
existed between men and their horses—that is, in so far as the former
would probably have gained comparatively few victories and made but
little headway in civilisation had they not been materially helped by
“man's friend and ally, the horse.”
According to Virgil, in the years just before Christ the colour
least liked in horses intended for work was white. “Yellow” also was
objected to, the prevalent belief being that white or dun horses
must _ipso facto_ be of weak constitution. White markings were
not disliked, however, and we read that Virgil's Roman youth rode
“a Thracian steed of two colours,” it had a white fore foot and a
forehead with a white patch. The charger ridden by Turnus was also a
Thracian horse, with markings somewhat similar.
The following description in the third book of Virgil's “Georgics”
gives us most likely an approximate idea of some points that were
looked for in a good horse in the last century B.C.:—
“Choose with like care the courser's generous breed,
And from his birth prepare the parent steed.
His colour mark, select the glossy bay,
And to the white or dun prefer the grey.
As yet a colt he stalks with lofty pace,
And balances his limbs with flexile grace:
First leads the way, the threatening torrent braves,
And dares the unknown arch that spans the waves.
Light on his airy crest his slender head,
His belly short, his loins luxuriant spread:
Muscle on muscle knots his brawny breast,
No fear alarms him, nor vain shouts molest.
But at the clash of arms, his ear afar
Drinks the deep sound, and vibrates to the war:
Flames from each nostril roll in gathered stream,
His quivering limbs with restless motion gleam,
O'er his right shoulder, floating full and fair,
Sweeps his thick mane, and spreads its pomp of hair:
Swift works his double spine, and earth around
Rings to his solid hoof that wears the ground.”
Though chariots were still in use among the Belgic tribes who
inhabited the south-eastern portion of the island when, in 55 B.C.,
Cæsar invaded Britain, cavalry must have been coming into vogue with
them, for we read that “no sooner were these tribes warned to be
prepared for Cæsar's contemplated invasion than they sent forward
cavalry and charioteers, which formed their chief arm in warfare.”
The people of North Britain, however, still paid but little attention
to the advice of the more intelligent among their chiefs that
cavalry ought to be adopted and chariots entirely discarded, the
principle of ultra-conservatism which remains one of the most marked
characteristics of the British nation at the present day being
apparently in force even in Cæsar's time.
By this period the Gauls, as Cæsar soon found out, had become a nation
composed almost wholly of knights. Yet whether the aboriginal horse of
the first yeomanry of Kent that met Cæsar upon his landing belonged to
the breed believed to have been imported by the Celts or Germans, or
whether they were descendants of the horses known to have been largely
bred when Hannibal's warlike expeditions into Spain, Gaul and Italy
were over, is not known.
Of interest it is to be told that the men who invaded this country
under the banner of the White Horse greatly valued the particular
breed of horses they found here, and that in consequence their
descendants in later centuries cut upon the chalk cliffs of the
Berkshire downs near Ilsley and Wantage the rough figures of horses
that remain there to this day.
We have it on the authority of several of the most trustworthy of
our early historians that by about the end of the third century B.C.,
at latest, the Gauls of northern Italy had become a race of horsemen;
that by about the middle of the second century B.C. the majority of
the Transalpine Gauls had done the same; and that by Cæsar's time even
the Belgic tribes of the Continent had practically abandoned the war
chariot that the Romans had deemed so helpful.
Apparently the horses employed by the Roman warriors were of a better
stamp than those which belonged to the Gauls of Northern Italy.
It is well known that Cæsar's opinion of the value of chariots in war
was, to say the least, rather inflated. His description of the action
of war chariots during an engagement is of itself almost sufficient to
prove this.
“At the first onset,” he writes, “they [the warriors] drove the cars
in all directions, hurled their javelins, and by the din and clatter
of horses and wheels commonly threw the ranks of the enemy into
disorder.
“Then, making their way amongst the squadrons of the enemy's cavalry,
they leaped down from the chariots and fought on foot.
“Little by little the charioteers withdrew out of the fight and placed
their chariots in such a way that if they were hard pressed by the
enemy they could readily retreat to their own side.
“Thus in battle they afforded the mobility of cavalry, and the
steadiness of infantry.
“Daily practice enabled them to pull up their horses when in full
speed on a slope or steep declivity, to check or turn them in a narrow
space, to run out on the pole and stand on the yoke, and to get nimbly
back again into the chariot.”
All of which sounds simple and delightful. In practice, however,
it did not often “work out.” For too frequently the wheels of the
chariots became clogged, sometimes they jammed in the wheels of other
chariots—not necessarily the enemy's—and frequently the horses, driven
to frenzy by pain and terror, stampeded on all sides.
Therefore the “steadiness of infantry,” of which Cæsar talks so
glibly, must in many instances have existed purely in his imagination,
and there can be little doubt that the warriors, carried away _nolens
volens_ by their frenzied horses, often “retreated readily to their
own side” long before the enemy pressed them to do so, a regrettable
incident which Cæsar passes over with perfunctory comment. And perhaps
he is not to be found fault with for doing this, seeing that similar
tactics have been indulged in by many of the most successful of our
military strategists of modern times.
Probably by Cæsar's time the practice of placing a covering of some
sort upon the backs of “saddle” horses had become quite common, at
least amongst the Romans. Among German tribes the use of any sort
of covering was still not merely laughed to scorn, but deemed to be
actually effeminate, disgraceful and a mark of laziness.
To do the Germans justice, they thoroughly acted up to their theory
in this connection, for never, when riding bareback, did they fear to
attack cavalry equipped with the horsecloth termed an _ephippion_,
which means literally a horse cover.
Referring again to war chariots, Diodorus tells us almost in so many
words that the Celts of Gaul and of Northern Italy went to war in
two-horse chariots down to quite a late date, after the manner of the
Homeric Acheans. These chariots held each two warriors, or a warrior
and a charioteer. One of the occupants first hurled a spear at the
enemy and then quickly alighted to finish the attack on foot; the
other occupant managed the car.
Though Horace himself was not a practical horseman, the views which he
expressed upon the subject of horses and of horsemanship are for the
most part admirable. In common with Xenophon he deemed good hoofs to
be an essential. Listen to the following rather amusing though at the
same time quite sensible observations uttered by Horace in one of his
famous “Satires”:—
“Swells,” he writes, “when they buy horses, have a way of covering
them up when they look over them, for fear that a handsome shape set
upon tender feet, as often happens, may take in the buyer as he hangs
open-mouthed over fine haunches, small head, and stately neck. And
they are right.”
At this time the ancients did not shoe their horses, though it is
generally believed that the Romans often covered the hoofs of their
mules with a sort of cap made of leather, which they then tied about
the fetlock.
These caps or coverings were named _soleæ_, and in the majority of
cases had a thin plate or sole made of iron. Nero is said to have used
for his 2000 mules plates made of silver instead of iron, and Pliny
declares in his famous “Natural History” that Nero's ridiculous wife,
Poppæa, used plates of gold for the same purpose.
It seems more than likely that caps of this pattern may have been worn
by some at least of the horses of the immortal Ten Thousand, for it
is recorded that during the great retreat an Armenian explained to a
group of Greeks how best to protect their horses' feet when snow lay
thick upon the ground, and the way he recommended was to wrap them up
as described.
In the early history of Ireland we find references. There is an
Irish epic cycle said to be quite one of the oldest known—the cycle
of Cuchulainn—in which the warriors all fight from chariots and do
terrible things. In this respect the poems of the Ossianic cycle
are different, from which it has been inferred that the latter were
written later.
If this was so it helps to bear out the argument that chariots went
steadily out of use as cavalry came more and more into vogue. Various
dates have been assigned to the “Cuchulainn Saga,” but from the
records that exist it seems safe to say that the original poem must
have been written in Pagan times—the events referred to in it are
supposed to have occurred about the first century B.C.—though probably
it was revised and added to in later years.
Indeed it is beyond dispute that as early as the seventh century A.D.
some of these poems were already deemed to be of great antiquity.
Cuchulainn's horses are described at length in “The Wooing of Emer.”
They were “alike in size, beauty, fierceness and speed. Their manes
were long and curly, and they had curling tails. The right-hand horse
was a grey horse, broad in the haunches, fierce, swift and wild; the
other was jet-black, his head firmly knit, and he was broad-hoofed
and slender; long and curly were his mane and tail. Down his broad
forehead hung heavy curls of hair.”
We are further told “that was the one chariot which the host of the
horses of the chariots of Ulster could not follow on account of the
swiftness and speed of the chariot and of the chariot chief who sat in
it.”
These peerless animals were guided by “two firm-plaited yellow reins,”
and presumably the black with “long and curly mane and tail” was of
Spanish or Gaulish blood.
Soon after the coming of Christ, or probably about the year 60 A.D., a
tribe referred to as the Iceni is known to have lived on what is now
called Newmarket Heath, and to have owned horses, apparently in great
numbers.
Tacitus speaks of the Iceni, who must have been a greater and more
powerful people than the majority of modern historians lead us to
infer. Again, it is interesting to note that nearly all the gold
and silver coins of the Iceni bear upon one side the impression
of a horse. Cæsar refers to the Iceni as a race that dwelt in
Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire, Norfolk and Suffolk, and Tacitus
wrote practically to the same effect.
Though horse racing is spoken of incidentally as having been indulged
in early in the Anglo-Saxon era, quite the earliest _bonâ-fide_ horse
races that took place in England, of which we have authentic record,
were those organised about the time of the Emperor Severus Alexander,
or towards the beginning of the third century A.D. The meeting was
held at Netherby, in Yorkshire.
These races were run apparently not long before the assassination
of the ill-starred emperor in 222 by the soldiers whom Maximus had
corrupted. At other stations as well horse races took place during the
Roman occupation, and Carleon, Silchester, Rushborough and Dorchester
are mentioned as being among the localities which had to do with the
very primitive “Turf” of that period.
Perhaps the undeniable superiority of the British thoroughbred over
the horses of other nations to-day may in a measure be due to the time
and attention the Romans of that era devoted to the importation of
horses of Eastern blood. This seems more likely still to be the case
when we remember that the majority of the best of the English mares
were crossed with Arabian stallions in the years that followed, and
that a succession of such stallions was imported throughout the early
and the Middle Ages, and from that time onward right down through
the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as we shall see
presently.
By the beginning of the era of the Saxon kings an Arab steed had
come to be looked upon as a recognised royal gift. According to one
authority, indeed, Boadicea, the intrepid queen who led the Iceni
against the Roman invaders, was greatly attached to her horses.
Most likely she was attached to them, however, only because they
helped her so materially in her raids upon her enemies. To pretend
that “the sturdy queen,” as one historian nicknames her, harboured
anything in the least approaching a sympathetic or a sentimental
affection for any particular horse would be the acme of all that is
grotesque.
Haydn has the misplaced gallantry to allude to Boadicea as “the heroic
queen.” That her good fortune in possessing horses with considerable
staying power enabled her to win her great victory at Verulam is now
common history. Therefore we read with the more interest that “this
relentless queen destroyed London and other places, slaughtering many
Romans, but at last she was overcome near London, by Suetonius, and
she ended by committing suicide.”
In the second century A.D. the Arabs probably had not begun to breed
horses, for at that time we do not hear of Arab horses being held
in the high esteem with which they later came to be regarded by the
British nation.
Yet even before this, or towards the middle of the first century A.D.,
the sport of chariot racing had become immensely popular, and the sums
spent upon organising the races, training the horses that were to be
entered for competition, and in purchasing prizes to be bestowed upon
the victors, may justly be said to have been enormous if we bear in
mind the purchasing value of the coinage of the period.
That the Romans were given to sacrificing horses to their gods,
Pliny the elder has made plain to us. He is said to have written an
exhaustive work upon steeds of a certain stamp, but unfortunately
the book must have been destroyed in the eruption of Vesuvius in 79
A.D., when Pompeii and Herculaneum were buried, and some 200,000 human
beings killed, among them Pliny.
As he points out in his “Natural History,” however, the sacrifices
of horses took place frequently, especially upon occasions of public
solemnity, and he mentions that horses to be immolated were not
allowed to be touched even by the Flamen.
Whether or no the Romans habitually sacrificed white horses, after the
manner of the Greeks, Illyrians and Persians, is not stated. They did,
however, harness white horses to their chariots upon these and other
state occasions, and thus we read that when Julius Cæsar returned from
Africa the quadriga in which he drove was, by order of the Senate,
drawn by milk-white steeds.
Tacitus tells us that on some occasions when a distinguished chief
died the dead man's horse was cremated on the funeral pyre beside
its master's body, and we know that the superstitious beliefs of the
Persians were upon a par with those of their Germanic kinsmen in so
far as the immolation of horses was concerned.
In some instances alleged divination of the future was brought about
by the aid of horses. Tacitus himself remarks that it was peculiar to
this people (the Germans) “to seek from horses omens and monitions.”
“Kept at the public expense in these same woods and groves,” he
continues, “are white horses, pure from the taint of earthly labour.
These are yoked to a sacred chariot and accompanied by the priests
and the king, or chief of the tribe, who note their neighings and
snortings. No species of divination is more to be trusted, not only by
the people and by the nobility, but also by the priests, who regard
themselves as the ministers of the gods, and the horses as acquainted
with their will.”
Amusing, but probably more or less fictitious, stories of Incitatus,
the notorious horse of the Roman emperor, Caligula, have been handed
down to us. That this beast had the absurd honour conferred upon it of
being elected priest and consul we must believe, and there probably is
truth in the statement that it ate regularly out of an ivory manger
and drank from a golden pail.
[Illustration: CALIGULA ON HORSEBACK. ABOUT 37 A.D.
_From a figure in the British Museum_]
But we must accept with reservation the story that the horse alone had
eighteen attendants in gorgeous apparel or livery to attend to it.
Almost equally fantastic are the tales told of the famous horse that
belonged to the Roman emperor, Verus, in the second century A.D. Celer
by name, it ate nothing but almonds and raisins, and its stable was
a suite of apartments in the emperor's principal palace. In place of
horse clothing it wore a garment of royal purple.
I need hardly repeat that these and similar stories that have been
handed down to us must be received with considerable scepticism.
A description, probably true, of what were deemed in the first century
A.D. to be the best points about a horse, is to be found in the
“Eclogues.” The lines, translated, run somewhat as follows:—
“My beast displays
A deep-set back; a head and neck
That tossing proudly feel no check
From over-bulk; feet fashioned slight,
Thin flanks, and brow of massive height;
While in its narrow horny sheath
A well-turned hoof is bound beneath.”
Towards the middle of the fourth century A.D. the popularity of what
must be described as circus riding would seem to have increased rather
suddenly, and we read that at about this time the Sicilian horses were
nearly as much in demand for public performances and processions as
the Cappadocian and the Spanish. Though such performances must have
been primitive indeed by comparison with even the simpler of the
feats we see performed to-day, they were then deemed marvellous in the
extreme, and people came from far and near to witness them.
This probably was in a measure due to the general love of riding that
prevailed amongst the wealthier classes at that period. Indeed the
possession of a large stud of horses was in many parts of Greece,
and especially in Athens, considered the hall-mark of what we should
term to-day a man of culture, in the same way that the possession
of horses, hounds and hawks was supposed to mark the aristocrat in
Mediæval times.
Thus a man often would be named after the class of horse he owned.
Xanthippus meant “He of the dun horses”; Leucippus, “He of the white
horses”; and Melanippus, “He of the black horses.”
* * * * *
By the close of the fourth century A.D. the Romans apparently had
outgrown their prejudice against the use of saddles, for at about that
time the saddle is referred to with some frequency. Certain it is that
in 380 A.D. the famous cavalrymen of Theodosius were mounted on horses
provided with true saddles—that is to say saddles with a tree, also
with a bow in front and behind.
Generally a cloth or numner was worn beneath saddles, but it is known
that at one time Roman horses suffered from sore backs owing probably
to the way the Roman soldiers sat their horses when saddles first came
into vogue. Soon after this it was that the saddle came to be known as
“the chair,” presumably because of the Latin word _sella_, from which
we have the French noun, _selle_, meaning saddle.
Some famous horses are referred to in the records of the sixth
century, but little is said of their history. Thus we have the Persian
steed of Chosroes, called Shibdiz, a name signifying “fleeter than the
wind.” Apparently he was a famous charger, for we read that he carried
his master safely through several important engagements. Yet he was
used for other purposes.
The story of King Arthur is so closely bound up with fable and fiction
that the truth is difficult to get at. He must have owned many good
horses, however, of which Spumador—a word signifying “the foaming
one”—and the mare Lamri were perhaps the most renowned. There are,
nevertheless, historians who maintain that these horses never actually
existed.
Sir Tristram's charger, Passe Brewell, mentioned in the “History of
King Arthur,” and elsewhere, is another animal around which “a web
of imaginative description,” as one writer terms it has been woven.
Consequently we shall be well advised to pass these fables by without
comment.
* * * * *
In the first half of the sixth century the practice of regularly
shoeing horses apparently came into vogue, for shoes are referred
to in the records of the ways and customs of the famous Emperor
Justinian. It seems certain, however, that the shoes fashioned at
about that period were clumsy in design, also needlessly heavy.
Specimens of them have from time to time been discovered, and it is
said one was found in the tomb of King Childeric, the date of whose
death is placed so far back as 460 A.D.
Though Tacitus, who wrote between 80 and 116 A.D., does not allude to
the horses of the Swedes, it is certain that about the sixth century
A.D. the Swedes had become not only a race of fine horsemen, but
owners of magnificent horses. Indeed in 550 A.D., or thereabouts,
Jornandes went so far as to compare them favourably with the race of
Thuringians.
Probably it was in a measure owing to the intense devotion of the
Swedish king, Adhils, to horses and to all that appertained to them
that the Swedish nation became so renowned for their horses and their
horsemanship. Then, though the Arabs had no horses at the beginning of
the Christian era, they probably were breeding them in great numbers
by the beginning of the sixth century A.D., for it was due mainly to
a quarrel at about that time over a famous horse named Dahis that two
formidable tribes entered into a deadly and long-drawn-out struggle.
At about this period the Romans began to pay almost fastidious
attention to the colour of their horses. The colour most preferred for
a war horse was dark brown, chestnut, or bay, with a white blaze up
the face, or a white patch or star upon the forehead. Light-coloured
horses were avoided as much as possible, except when the animals were
needed for processions, and so forth.
A graphic description is given of a fierce combat between
approximately 1000 of Justinian's cavalry, led by the renowned
general, Belisarius, and an equal number of Goths.
The latter, determined to enter Rome, had crossed the Tiber, when the
column of Belisarius came upon them suddenly.
The engagement began at once.
We are told that “Belisarius himself fought like a common soldier,” as
the bravest of the chiefs of that period sometimes did. He was astride
one of his favourite and best-trained chargers, a horse described as
having “all his body dark-coloured, but his face pure white from the
top of the head to the nose.”
An animal so marked was termed by the Greeks _phalios_, and by the
barbarians _balas_, words signifying “bald.” While the battle was in
progress a number of Belisarius' soldiers left his ranks and joined
the Goths'. Thus it came about that suddenly Belisarius heard shouts
from the enemy's lines, and the cries distinctly audible:
“Belisarius rides the bald-faced horse! Strike him! Slay it!”
And most likely the bald-faced horse and his gallant rider would have
been slaughtered had Belisarius' bodyguard not hastened to rally round
him and eventually succeeded in beating off his assailants, many of
whom, earlier in the day, had fought beside him.
CHAPTER V
Mahomet encourages horse-breeding—Procopius; a misstatement—Early
allusion to horse races—Figures of horses cut on cliffs—Roland
and his horse, Veillantiff—Orelia, Roderick's charger—Trebizond,
Alfana; Odin's mythical horse, Sleipnir—Horse fighting in
Iceland—Some horses of mythology: Pegasus, Selene, Xanthos,
Balios, Cyllaros, Arion, Reksh—Arab pedigrees traced through
dams—Influence of the horse upon history—Courage of Julius
Cæsar's horses
The coming of Mahomet, who announced himself prophet about the year
611 A.D., marks an epoch in the history of nations, and it serves also
as a landmark, if one may express it so, in the horse's progress in
its bearing upon the world's history.
At intervals throughout the Koran, which Mahomet compiled probably
about 610, we come upon direct allusions to the horse in the part it
played at that time in the growth of what must be termed civilisation.
Probably Mahomet realised more fully than any of his contemporaries
how indispensable to the human race the horse had by this time become,
for in one passage in the Koran he puts a strange utterance into
the mouth of the Almighty, whom he represents as apostrophising the
horse, telling it that it shall be “for man a source of happiness and
wealth,” adding, “thy back shall be a seat of honour, and thy belly
of riches, and every grain of barley given to thee shall purchase
indulgence for the sinner,” while in another place he declares that
“every grain of barley given to a horse is entered by God in the
Register of Good Works.”
He describes in an interesting way the horse of the Archangel Gabriel,
to which the name Haizum was given, also Dhuldul, the peerless steed
of his son-in-law, Ali, and his own milk-white mule, Fadda. All this
is the more remarkable when we bear in mind that in the centuries that
preceded Mahomet's birth the Arab race was practically a nonentity
in so far as the continual struggles for supremacy in Egypt and in
Western Asia were concerned, when the great Assyrian, Babylonian,
Egyptian, Persian, Median, Roman and Macedonian tribes fought with
such dogged determination and proved each in turn more or less
victorious.
Yet it is more than likely—some of our leading historians pronounce
positively upon this point—that if in the years just before Mahomet's
birth the tribes had not become possessed of a staunch race of horses,
and devoted much time to perfecting themselves in horsemanship in the
true meaning of the term, Islam would have remained unchanged instead
of almost revolutionising the world in the way it did.
Small wonder, therefore, that Mahomet was enthusiastic—unduly
enthusiastic many even among his disciples maintained him to be—in
striving to promote among his own people a fondness for horses.
Undoubtedly it was owing to this that when at last Mahomet died some
of the best-bred steeds in existence were to be found among the horses
in the region of Nejd.
In Mahomet's era it was that stirrups first came to be used regularly
by both cavalry and what were termed “private horsemen”—the latter we
should to-day call civilians. True stirrups most likely were invented
and introduced by the Teutonic people of the Lower Rhine and the
region adjoining, for we know there was no Latin or Greek term for a
stirrup, and as the Teutonic tribes were large men of heavy build they
naturally would be much more likely to feel the need of assistance
when mounting than would men of small stature, light and agile, who
must have been able to vault on to their horses without difficulty.
The English term “stirrup” probably is a contraction of the early
English “stige-rap,” a word that comes from “stigan,” to mount, and
“rap,” rope—in short, a mounting-rope. In the eighth century A.D. the
Angles were using saddle horses in large numbers, according to the
Venerable Bede, some of whose writings, however, are said not to bear
the impress of strict veracity. Yet it is probable that he speaks
of what he knew when he tells us that about the year 631 A.D. “the
English first began to saddle horses,” while many of the horsemen who
opposed the incursion of the hordes of Romans are known beyond dispute
to have been mounted on saddled horses.
Mention of the mare, Alborak, called also Borak, must be made—though
only a mythical animal—as she was said to have carried Mahomet from
earth into the seventh heaven. “She was milk-white,” we are told,
like Fadda, the mule, with “the wings of an eagle and a human face
with a horse's cheeks,” while “every pace she took was equal to the
farthest range of human sight.” In Arabic the word means literally
“the lightning.”
Procopius, who wrote in the sixth century A.D., is looked upon
generally as a dependable authority, and probably upon most occasions
he wrote the truth. Yet he would seem to have made one or two rather
grave misstatements when speaking of the horse in its relation to the
history of his time.
In an interesting way he describes certain stirring scenes in the war
between the Angli who had settled in Britain and the Varni—the Werini
of the “Leges Barbarorum”—whose region lay chiefly east of the Rhine.
The direct cause of this war was the positive refusal of the king of
the Varni to marry an Anglian princess to whom he had been affianced
for a considerable time.
“These islanders,” wrote Procopius, referring to the Angli, “are the
most valiant of all the barbarians with whom we are acquainted, and
they fight on foot. For not only do they not know how to ride, but
it is their lot not even to know what a horse is like, since in this
island they do not see a horse, even in a picture, for this animal
seems never to have existed in Britain. But if at any time it should
happen that some of them, either on an embassy, or for some other
reason, should be living with Romans or Franks, or with anyone else
that hath horses, and it should there be necessary for them to ride on
horseback, they are unable to mount, but other men have to help them
up and set them on their horses' backs; and again, when they wish to
dismount, they have to be lifted, and set down on the ground. Neither
are the Varni horsemen, but they too are all infantry. Such then are
these barbarians.”
Clearly he misstated facts in this instance, for it is beyond dispute
that horses were known in Britain at the time to which he refers. For
the rest the description may be considered more or less accurate.
It is interesting to note in this connection that whereas in the tombs
of the Anglo-Saxons the shield and the weapons of the buried warrior
are usually discovered, bits and harness are found in these tombs in
rare instances only. On the other hand in the Scandinavian barrows
in Scotland the bones of men and horses mixed have been discovered
frequently.
* * * * *
Perhaps the first historical allusion to horse racing, as we
understand it now, and to “running” horses, as race horses continued
to be called for many centuries afterwards, is the one that occurs in
the ninth century A.D., when Hugh, the founder of the royal house of
Capet, in France, made a present of running horses to King Athelstan
in the hope that in return the king might allow him to wed his sister,
Ethelswitha.
Hengist and Horsa are said by some historians to have displayed
interest in horse racing, but the statement is not based upon
indisputable evidence, any more than the assertion that because
Hengist and Horsa are alleged by one historian at least to have given
the order that forms of horses should be cut upon the chalk hills of
Berkshire therefore all the Saxon banners must have borne as a device
a white horse.
The white horse at Wantage other historians declare to have been cut
in commemoration of Alfred's great victory over the Danes at the
battle of Æscendun or Ashtreehill, during the reign of his brother,
Ethelred I. Its length is 374 feet, and even at a distance of nearly
fifteen miles it is distinctly visible in clear weather. This recalls
to mind the device of the House of Hanover—a white horse galloping;
and of the House of Savoy—a white horse rampant.
Mention must here be made of the immortal Roland and his equally
famous horse, Veillantiff, though owing to the pair have figured so
largely in romance the actual truth about them can be traced only with
difficulty.
We may take it for granted, however, that Roland was the son of Milo,
Duke of Aiglant; that he was Count of Mans and Knight of Blaives;
and that his mother was Bertha, the sister of Charlemagne. Orlando
is the name by which he is known in Italian romance; Vegliantino the
name of his horse; and he figures prominently in Theroulde's “Chanson
de Roland,” in the romance, “Chroniq de Turpin,” and of course in
Ariosto's epic of Mad Roland and Boiardo's “Orlando in Love.” He was
said to be eight feet tall and to have “an open countenance which
invited confidence and inspired respect,” also to have been “brave,
loyal and simple-minded.”
The story of his slaying at Fronsac, in single combat, the Saracen
tyrant and giant, Angoulaffre, as described in “Croquemitaine,”
naturally is fiction. He desired, it was said, by way of reward to
marry Aude, the fair daughter of Sir Gerard and Lady Guibourg, but
Roland was slain at Roncesvalles in the Pyrenees during the return
march from Saragossa, while in command of the rear-guard, being caught
“together with the flower of the French chivalry” in an ambuscade and
massacred to a man. Aude is said to have died of grief upon hearing
the news.
Roland's horse, Veillantiff, must have been an incomparable charger
and more intelligent than even his master, for it is related that
whenever Roland was hard pressed Veillantiff obtained knowledge of the
fact in some mysterious way and at once carried Roland out of danger
so far as he was able.
Equally intelligent in this respect was the charger named Orelia,
owned by Roderick, the last of the Goths. According to Southey this
horse too was renowned for its shape and speed. Indeed Southey based
the story of his famous epic upon the historical record of the defeat
of Roderick in 711 A.D., at the battle of Guadalete, near Xeres de la
Frontera. Roderick, the thirty-fourth and last of the old Visigothic
kings, himself attributed his victories in a great measure to the
courage of his horses, and apparently he was proud of all his horses
for we read that he “bitterly bemoaned the death of any one of them.”
Another remarkable and famous steed was Trebizond, the grey charger
of Admiral Guarinos, one of the French knights taken prisoner at
Roncesvalles.
Alfana, the clever mare mentioned in Ariosto's “Orlando Furioso” as
belonging to Gradasso, King of Sericana, whom Ariosto describes as
“the bravest of the Pagan knights,” has many legends attached to it.
Thus upon occasions Gradasso who, though famous as a knight, was an
unconscionable bully, would treat Alfana with grotesque kindness, at
other times beating it unmercifully; and when, with 100,000 vassals in
his train, “all discrowned kings”(!) who never addressed him except
upon their knees, he went to war against Charlemagne, the mare,
Alfana, played a prominent part.
* * * * *
Though in these pages but few allusions have been made to the horses
of mythology, modern interest in mythological history being at a very
low ebb, the mysterious eight-legged grey steed of Odin, chief god
of Scandinavia, must not be passed unnoticed. His name was Sleipnir,
and inasmuch as he could travel over earth and ocean he was deemed
to be typical of the wind that blows over land and water from eight
principal and far-distant points.
According to Beowulf—composed probably in the eighth century—the
Scandinavians set great value upon their steeds, especially upon
their dun-coloured horses, their apple-dun horses and their white
horses. Therefore it seems almost odd that the early Norse settlers in
Iceland should have indulged as largely as they undoubtedly did in the
brutal “sport” of horse fighting, a form of amusement that to this day
is in vogue in parts of Siam.
The saga of Burnt Njal, with its scene laid in the tenth century,
refers repeatedly to incidents in which the horse plays a chief part.
The description of the mighty encounter between the horse of Starkad
and the horse of Gunnar of Lithend is peculiarly disagreeable, but as
it gives us probably a very accurate idea of the way in which these
horse battles were arranged and carried out, it is worth quoting
almost in full.
Starkad, we are told, had “a good horse of chestnut hue, and it was
thought that no horse was his match in fight.” The horse that Gunnar
of Lithend decided to pit against it was a brown. It is practically
upon the result of this fight that the famous tragedy turns.
“And now men ride to the horse fight,” we read, “and a very great
crowd was gathered together. Gunnar and his friends were there, and
Starkad and his sons.... Gunnar was in a red kirtle, and had about
his loins a broad belt, and a riding rod in his hand. Then the horses
ran at one another, and bit each other long, so that there was no
need for anyone to touch them, and that was the greatest sport! Then
Thorgeir and Kol made up their minds that they would push their horse
forward just as the horses rushed together, and see if Gunnar would
fall before him.
“Now the horses ran at one another again, and both Thorgeir and Kol
ran alongside their horse's flank. Gunnar pushed his horse against
them, and what happened in a trice was this, that Thorgeir and his
brother fell flat down on their backs, and their horse atop of them!”
Soon after this the horse battle developed into a serious encounter
between the partisans of the respective animals, with the result that
Gunnar's horse had an eye gouged out by Thorgeir. In the library at
Reykjavik a very interesting picture representing a horse battle of
this kind is still to be seen.
* * * * *
We have now seen how, from the very earliest time until the eve of
the Norman Conquest, the horse played a prominent part in the world's
history. More than any other animal it had helped, either directly or
indirectly, to bring about great victories, to develop and strengthen
the courage of nations, to mould the character of men, and to add in
several ways to life's pleasure.
That the horse should have been almost worshipped by the very
tribes who offered up living horses as sacrifices to their gods has
been pronounced paradoxical by some writers; yet there was nothing
inconsistent about this, for in all times when sacrifices have been
common those offering sacrifice have given what they most cherished or
esteemed.
What is remarkable is the fact that, of all animals known to have
existed in the different countries and in the different regions of
those countries to which reference has been made, the horse stands
alone as man's direct assistant, one might say ally; and, in addition,
the horse is the one animal with a history traceable through the early
centuries, owing to the almost unbroken line of references made to it
in the story of the human race and progress towards civilisation.
How far advanced the world would have been at the time of the
Conqueror's landing, how far advanced it would be to-day, had the
horse not played so prominent a part in its development, none can say.
There can be no doubt, however, but that the human race would have
advanced far more slowly had the employment of horses been withheld.
Of mythical horses that have “existed,” the name is legion. To deal
at length with these strange creatures would need a volume half as
large as this is. I have mentioned that few save scholars to-day take
interest in mythology, so I shall refer only to some half-a-dozen of
the many horses of fable and of mythology whose names are household
words.
Pegasus, the winged horse of Apollo and the Muses, is perhaps the best
known by repute. The name of course is Greek, and means, more or less,
“one born near the ocean,” and according to the famous fable Perseus
rode Pegasus when rescuing Andromeda.
Frequently in history we find a ship alluded to as “Perseus' flying
horse.” Thus in the story of the destruction of Troy, “Perseus
conquered the head of Medusa, and did make Pegase, the most swift
ship, which he always calls Perseus' flying horse,” while Shakespeare
in _Troilus and Cressida_ speaks of “The strong-ribbed bark through
liquid mountains cut ... like Perseus' horse.”
How Perseus beheaded Medusa, chief of the Gorgons, and how everyone
who afterwards looked at the head with its hair turned into snakes by
the jealous goddess Minerva was then and there transformed into stone
is too well known to need repetition at length here.
Selene, the moon goddess, usually represented in a chariot drawn by
fiery white horses—to some extent this is inconsistent, seeing that
from time almost immemorial white horses have notoriously been the
least fiery of any—must be mentioned, for the famous cast or model
of Selene's horse shown in the British Museum indicates clearly
the stamp of animal that was most highly prized about that period.
According to Greek mythology, Selene was in love with the setting sun,
Endymion, and bore him fifty daughters in addition to those she bore
the god Zeus.
Achilles' remarkable steed, Xanthos, was, we are told, “human to all
intents.” When “severely spoken to” by its master because on the
battlefield it had deserted Patroclos, the horse first “looked about
him sadly,” and then, according to the “Iliad,” it told Achilles with
a reproachful expression in its eyes that he too would soon be dead,
for that this was “the inexorable decree of destiny”—a prophecy that
came true.
Achilles owned also the wonderful horse, Balios, which first of all
Neptune had given to Peleus. The sire of Balios, like the sire of
Xanthos, was the West Wind, its dam the harpy, Swift Foot.
According to Virgil the famous horse of Greek mythology, Cyllaros,
belonged to Pollux, and was named after Cylla, in Troas. Ovid, however
affirms that it belonged to Castor, for in his “Metamorphose” he
says, when speaking of Cyllaros, that “He, O Castor, was a courser
worthy thee ... coal-black his colour, but like jet it shone: His legs
and flowing tail were white alone.” Then, Adrastos was saved at the
siege of Thebes by a horse famous for its speed and given to him by
Hercules. Its name was Arion, and Neptune was said to have caused
it to rise out of the earth, using his trident as a magic wand. The
name is Greek for “martial,” hence the signification, “war horse,”
given to it in this instance. We read that “its right feet were those
of a human creature,” “it spoke with a human voice,” and “ran with
incredible swiftness.”
Perhaps one of the most notorious horses of Persian mythology is
Reksh, a steed that belonged to Rustam, the Persian Hercules, son of
Zal, and Prince of Sedjistan. Rustam became famous chiefly on account
of his great battle with the white dragon, Asdeev. The description
of Rustam's deadly encounter with his son, Sohrab—it ended in the
latter's death—is described in Matthew Arnold's poem, “Sohrab and
Rustam” in very fine language.
* * * * *
But even these few references to horses of mythology may be pronounced
dull reading in this prosaic age, so for the present I will leave the
subject and come down to earth once more. It is interesting to learn
that the Arab race, apparently from the time when it first began to
breed horses, was wont to trace the pedigrees of its horses through
the dams and not through the sires, in the same way that in ancient
days this people traced its own lineage. The reason the Arabs did so
remains to this day a moot point, though it would seem almost certain
that in common with the Veneti they believed the selection of the dam
to be of more vital importance than the selection of the stallion in
order to secure good stock.
Indeed even now there are races who hold this view, and to confirm
their opinion they quote Aristotle, who also maintained that pedigrees
ought by rights to be traced through the female line. Nor are they at
all peculiar, for some of the foremost among modern breeders of horses
hold that in almost every case the qualities of the dam descend more
directly than do those of the sire.
We have now come to what may be termed the second period of the horse
in history—the period that begins with William the Conqueror's reign
and ends with the Stuart Period. From very early centuries down to the
coming of Christ, and from the coming of Christ down to the Norman
invasion, all the records bearing directly upon the horse in its
relation to the world's progress are necessarily open to criticism,
for almost all historical records of that period have to be accepted
with some reserve.
It may be said, indeed, that no two historians prior to the Conquest
can be found who agree in detail one with the other, while some there
are whose statements are almost diametrically opposed. In compiling
these pages, therefore, I have tried to use discretion.
* * * * *
Apparently an impression is prevalent amongst historians that the
horses of the centuries before the Conquest, and therefore presumably
also the horses of the period that preceded the birth of Christ, lived
longer than those of later times.
What can have given rise to this idea it is hard to say, and that
the belief most likely is fallacious we are led to infer from the
statements of those early writers who state definitely the ages at
which their favourite chargers died.
Yet at least two of our modern historians assert that the horses of
the early Greeks and Romans lived to the age of thirty-five or more,
upon an average.
That such misstatement should continue to be handed down is very
regrettable; while equally to be deprecated is the habit common more
especially among the younger school of French historians of applying
the principles of the higher criticism in cases where such criticism
_ipso facto_ cannot hold good, the result being that conclusions are
arrived at which in many instances are wholly false.
To take a single case in point—rather a well-known Continental
antiquary mentions in his historical essays that during the period
approximately between the coming of Christ and the reign of William
the Conqueror horses practically the world over “went out of use more
and more.”
By “the world over” he means, of course, as much of the world as was
known in those days, but the statement is none the less incorrect,
and it seems clear that he must have come to this false conclusion
through inferring that because in certain regions the designs upon the
ancient monuments, and in some instances the figures upon the coinage,
represent a horse, or horses and chariots, the monuments and coins of
a later date show only an unmounted warrior.
The true reason of this, however, probably is that the later monuments
were erected, and the later coins struck, at a period when neither
famous battles were being fought nor great contests of skill decided.
Students of history well know, indeed, that the monarchs as well
as the great chiefs and leaders in the early centuries before the
Conquest, and to some extent in the centuries after it, almost
invariably commemorated upon their monuments, coins and parchments
such events as happened to be of importance at the moment, or, as we
should say to-day, of passing interest only.
Indeed, as I have endeavoured to show, one of the most noticeable
features about the horse in its relation to history is the manner in
which it gradually influenced the development of the various nations.
The early Libyan horses were famous for what must be described
as their gentleness and their intelligence, characteristics which
apparently marked some of the Libyan races.
The horses of Europe, on the other hand, were vicious in various ways,
and less tractable, but also they were less timid than the Libyan
horses.
It is curious to read, then, that the European races that owned these
horses had several characteristics in common. In addition it is well
known that in the _mêlée_ of a battle the horses of the contending
armies quite commonly bit savagely one at another, and some of the
early writers whose utterances can be relied upon maintain that even
in the thick of the fight such horses but rarely bit or savaged horses
other than the enemy's, and the enemy themselves.
Another point worth noting is that though often in the early ages
horses were immolated, yet deliberate cruelty to a horse upon other
occasions was almost universally condemned by law. No precautions,
however, were taken for the prevention of cruelty to any other sort of
animal.
This is, in itself, significant, for it can hardly be supposed that
unnecessary cruelty to horses was condemned from the standpoint of the
humanitarian. Probably it was the horse's usefulness to mankind that
served to guard him against ill-usage, and, as we shall see presently,
it was this same usefulness that protected him from ill-treatment in
centuries long after the Conquest.
Indeed there are parts of the world where to this day horses are well
treated because to ill-use them is deemed unwise policy. Thus in no
part of the Western States of America have I ever seen a horse flogged
unmercifully, and upon several occasions when attention has been drawn
to this the reply has been practically the same: “If we served them
badly we should get less work out of them,” an observation that some
Englishmen, plenty of Frenchmen, and very many Italians, who have to
do with horses, might with advantage bear in mind.
* * * * *
The physical strength of horses in the very early centuries must have
been prodigious. If the details we have of the way in which the early
war chariots were constructed are accurate, then at least three of our
twentieth-century horses would be needed to accomplish the work, one
might almost say perform the feats, that a pair of horses could do
twelve or thirteen centuries ago.
Even as late in the world's history as the period of Julius Cæsar the
staying power of some of the war horses in Britain was amazing. Men
who have been in action in our own times will tell you that a wounded
horse gives in at once, that he seems to have no heart. Yet in Julius
Cæsar's time, and in earlier epochs, an arrow or a javelin wound, if
not too severe, apparently had the effect of setting a war horse upon
his mettle rather than of causing him to give in.
Can the horse's temperament, then, have changed within the last ten
centuries? Is he a less courageous animal than he was? Is he more
highly strung, less intelligent, less strong physically, and of a
weaker constitution? Such problems have to do with the history of
the horse rather than with the horse in history, and, so far as I am
aware, they have not as yet been solved.
PART II
FROM THE CONQUEST TO THE STUART PERIOD
CHAPTER I
The Conqueror's cavalry—Horse fairs and races at Smithfield—King
John's foolish fad—The Persians and their horses—Relics of Irish
art; what they indicate—Simon de Montfort the first master of
foxhounds—The king's right to commandeer horses—Sir Eustace de
Hecche; Battle of Falkirk—Marco Polo and white horses; curious
superstitions—Edward III. and Richard II. encourage horse
breeding—Battle of Crecy
The beginning of William the Conqueror's reign marks a turning-point
in the story of the horse's influence upon the British nation, also,
incidentally, in the general development of the horse.
Roger de Bellesne, Earl of Shrewsbury, who is said to have been an
accomplished horseman—as fine horsemanship was understood in those
days—obtained leave of the king to import from Spain a number of
stallions of great value.
These stallions, indeed, were said at the time to be “the best
procurable in Spain,” and we are told that when King William beheld
them he displayed great delight, at the same time “expressing his
approval in a very forcible way.”
The king himself apparently was not a finished horseman; yet he had
a strong liking for horses, possibly in the same way that “he loved
the great deer of the forests as though he had been their father”(!)
Most likely he was too heavily built a man to make a graceful rider,
though it is said that upon the arrival of Lord Shrewsbury's stallions
he went on horseback to inspect them, and, as we know, towards the end
of the sixteenth or the beginning of the seventeenth century the poet
Drayton praised very highly the progeny of these same horses.
Naturally this importation of valuable stallions greatly improved the
breed of horses in Britain, and from the time of the Conquest onward
the improvement was distinctly noticeable.
* * * * *
Though some historians tell us that the Anglo-Saxons rode on
horseback, others maintain that they did not ride. There can be no
doubt, however, that they did not fight on horseback. The well-known
scene on Bayeux tapestry that represents the battle of Hastings shows
us Harold fighting on foot when the arrow strikes him in the eye.
A comparatively modern historian has tried to disprove the popular
story of the Normans shooting their shafts high into the air so
that in their descent these shafts might pierce the heads of the
enemy, but the old narrative is still believed by the great body of
modern students.
King William's warriors were, of course, almost all mounted—of that
there cannot be a doubt. Had they not been the Saxons would most
likely have won the day, even though the enemy was clad in mail. Also
it should be remembered that the cavalry brought over by King William
was practically of the stamp that some three centuries earlier had
resisted very firmly the Moslem attack at Poictiers. The chargers
were of the same stock, and therefore it may with truth be said that
the famous Norman Conquest and the great and important events that
followed it in the history of this country were directly due to the
simple fact that the Normans possessed war horses and knew thoroughly
how to manage them.
Of precisely what stamp the Normans' chargers were that were imported
at this time cannot be said for certain. Without doubt, however, they
were tall and heavily built animals, for the armed men they had to
carry were all of very great weight.
For ten, or possibly twelve centuries a breed of great horses had been
multiplying largely in the northern and western regions of Europe, so
the inference is that the cavalry of the Normans must have been of
that breed.
Also the saddles they are represented as wearing were extremely
massive and presumably of great weight. Those shown on the Bayeux
tapestry have a deep curve which must have made them difficult to
fall out of, and we are told by Giraldus that saddles almost exactly
similar, and provided with stirrups, were in use in Ireland a century
or so later. The riders at that time wore high boots, prick spurs, and
hauberk.
[Illustration: BAYEUX TAPESTRY SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT THE BATTLE OF
HASTINGS. 1066]
* * * * *
A monk of Canterbury, William Stephanides, writing early in the
reign of Henry II., alludes to various kinds of horses used in Great
Britain, and among these there undoubtedly were some of the stamp that
the Normans imported.
“Without one of the London city gates,” he tells us, “is a certain
smooth field”—no doubt the site known to-day as Smithfield—“and every
Friday there is a brave sight of gallant horses to be sold. Many
come from the city to buy or look on—to wit, earls, barons, knights
and citizens. There are to be found here managed or war horses
(_dextrarii_), of elegant shape, full of fire and giving every proof
of a generous and noble temper; likewise cart horses, horses fitted
for the dray, or the plough, or the chariot.”
From other sources we are able to gather that at this time there must
have been many war horses in England, and that they were for the most
part animals of great size and strength. Consequently the cavalry of
the period were extremely unwieldy. On the other hand we know that
the rest of the horses distributed throughout the country were but
little bigger than cobs, and we read that though attempts were made
to mount men-at-arms on some of them all such attempts had soon to be
abandoned, the horses being “oppressed by the weight of the armour and
the heavy accoutrements.”
Probably this was the reason such strenuous efforts were presently
made by the various reigning monarchs, and by the parliaments that
were in power between the reign of Henry II. and the reign of
Elizabeth, to breed bigger and heavier horses, “great horses” as they
came to be called, and are often termed still.
Some of the Latin records of the Mediæval age contain interesting
allusions to these great horses, _dextrarii_ and _magni equi_ they
were called. The horses of this stamp do not appear to have been very
intelligent animals, but their physical strength was colossal, and
in selecting them particular attention was paid to their power of
endurance, or, as we call it to-day, their staying power.
Apparently Henry II. and Richard I. were partial to chestnut and dark
brown stallions, but King John, and later Queen Elizabeth, preferred
black. Indeed we are told that in the beginning of his reign King
John vowed he would have his courtiers ride none but black horses,
and that the sums he had to pay to enable him to gratify so foolish
a fad—it may have been mere vanity—were quoted among the acts of
extravagance that later incensed his barons and led ultimately to
their making him sign Magna Charta.
As the size and strength of the war horses grew greater in all
countries, so did the weight and strength of the armour steadily
increase. Towards the end of the twelfth century the Norman hauberk
that for many years had proved effective, and that even the most
far-seeing of the warriors firmly believed could not be improved upon,
began to make way for the heavy chain mail—the most picturesque armour
ever adopted by any nation—which, when first introduced, was said to
render the warrior almost invulnerable.
But as time went on, and the strength of both men and horses further
increased, and the weapons of war became more deadly still, the
armour again underwent a change, so that about the beginning of the
fourteenth century we find the “perfect armour,” as it had come to be
called, being in its turn discarded in favour of the hideous plate
armour that less than a hundred years afterwards was adopted by
practically every “civilised” nation in Europe.
A monk of Canterbury, by name FitzStephen, who in the reign of
Henry II. was secretary to the famous Archbishop à Becket, refers
incidentally to some rather primitive horse races which took place
at Smithfield towards the end of the twelfth century, and in doing
so he quaintly tells us that “the jockeys, inspired with thoughts
of applause, and in the hope of victory, clap spurs to the willing
horses, brandish their whips, and cheer them with their cries!”
Reference is made to these races in several other of the early
documents, and though they are among the first horse races of which
descriptions have been handed down to us, it seems clear that they
attracted a great concourse of spectators and gave rise to much
reckless wagering. That the animals entered were all practically
untrained is made apparent.
King Richard I. is said to have been a good judge of a horse and to
have owned a number of swift-running steeds. Upon one or two occasions
he endeavoured to establish horse racing as a national pastime, but
the country was not yet ripe for it, and his attempts met with but
scant encouragement.
It is said that his courtiers strove to serve their royal master by
having recourse to threats in those districts where the introduction
of horse racing was opposed, but all to no purpose.
King John, upon ascending the throne, devoted much time to hunting
and similar sports, and valued good horses so greatly that in some
instances he insisted that the fines he was so fond of extorting
should be paid in horses instead of in money.
Then, following in the footsteps of William the Conqueror, he imported
a number of stallions, among them many of the Eastern breed, and on
the pastures in Kent where the town of Eltham and the village of
Mottingham now stand he established the famous stud from which so many
of the horses owned in after years by Queen Elizabeth were directly
descended.
Worthy of mention here is the coincidence that the early days of some
of the most celebrated thoroughbreds of recent times were spent in
the very paddocks where King John's foals and imported horses were
disporting themselves some seven centuries earlier.
On the subject of the great horses of the Middle Ages it is
interesting to read that while British rulers were striving to
breed animals which would be both bigger and stronger than their
predecessors, the Persians in their country were endeavouring to breed
and rear horses on lines precisely similar, and with the same objects
in view.
How successful the attempts of the latter proved may be gathered from
the fact that, in the centuries that followed, the Persian horses
became renowned the world over for their immense strength, though the
animals of this particular breed never became famous for their speed.
Indeed the chief victories won by the Persians in their terrific
encounters with the Turks in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries
were due in a great measure to the superior size and strength of the
Persian war horses, though, of course, the fact that the Turks had
only their shields with which to protect themselves must have helped
the Persians materially.
Perhaps some of the most interesting and accurate representations of
the horses of about this period are those to be found in parts of
Ireland among the remains of Irish art. These remains, rather let us
call them relics, are almost matchless, and they represent horses
driven in chariots, and some mounted by riders.
Thus three horsemen in addition to two chariots with horses harnessed
are to be seen on the two panels of the plinth of the historic North
Cross at Clonmacnoise in King's County. The wheels of these chariots
have eight spokes, and the relic is believed by the foremost of our
antiquaries to date back to the tenth century.
A panel almost similar, dating back approximately to the same period,
is to be seen on an upright cross in a street in the town of Kells, in
County Meath, and on this cross not only are horsemen shown, but in
addition a hunting scene is clearly depicted.
Relics such as these help to demonstrate that the interest taken in
horses by the people of Great Britain, just before and just after
the Conquest, was shared by the natives of Ireland, though not until
several centuries had elapsed did the Irish show signs of becoming the
thoroughly horse-loving nation that they are to-day.
It is true that from a very early period they were fond of most kinds
of outdoor pursuits that need daring in addition to the exercise of
skill upon the part of those anxious to become proficient at them.
Also it is true that the horse has from first to last had much to do
with the moulding of the Irish character.
The horse's immediate bearing upon the history and progress of
Ireland begins, however, at a later date, and in the same manner the
importation of great horses, and the establishment of what must have
been the precursors of our modern stud farms, occur later in Ireland's
history than in England's.
* * * * *
With the accession of Henry III. we find upon the throne a king
keenly interested in all that had to do with horses, and devoted to
the chase as well as to “stirring contests between competing horses.”
For authentic particulars of the contests in which these “competing
horses” took part we may search the ancient records almost in vain.
Apparently the few race meetings organised were, to say the best we
can of them, not of great importance, not excepting those in which the
king and his nobles were directly interested. To afford opportunities
for wagering was, so far as one can gather, their principal _raison
d'être_, and such rules of racing as did exist most likely were almost
wholly disregarded.
In this respect the king would seem not to have been much more
particular than his subjects, though, as already said, information
obtainable upon the subject is of the scantiest, and is at best
unreliable.
* * * * *
In the history of Henry III.'s reign there occurs what we may take
to be the first direct reference to “a village named Newmarket,” in
Cambridgeshire. As I have already pointed out, the tribe that dwelt
on Newmarket Heath in very early times and was known as the Iceni
apparently was interested in horses and to some extent bred horses,
so it is not astonishing to learn that in the thirteenth century the
people then living in Newmarket and the neighbourhood still carried on
the traditions of the Iceni, even to boasting openly that steeds bred
upon the Heath could not be rivalled for speed “the world over.”
This, most likely, was an empty boast, for what could a small
community, that presumably travelled but rarely, know at first hand of
horses bred even in far distant parts of England?
It is true that Simon de Montfort had a high opinion of the horses
bred at Newmarket, for he tells us so in a letter written a few years
before his death—he was killed at Evesham in 1265. Presumably he
rode in the hunting field some of his horses that had been reared at
Newmarket, for he was as keen about hunting as about soldiering.
Historians have described him as “the great patriotic baron of his
period,” a description that is accurate if we are to judge from his
acts. I believe I am right in saying that Simon de Montfort was the
first master of foxhounds of whom mention is made in British history,
but upon this point I am open to correction. Certainly he is the first
of whose life we have authentic details. On his great seal attached
to a deed dated 1259, and now in Paris among the royal archives, he
is shown galloping beside his hounds, urging them on, and blowing
his horn. He is said to have hunted largely in Leicestershire and
Warwickshire, and as he lived in the thirteenth century the seal
referred to forms most likely the first picture we have of a _bonâ
fide_ run with foxhounds.
In Blount's “Ancient Tenures,” a volume that is extremely interesting
and in some respects amusing, we are told that “In the reign of
King Edward I. Walter Marescullus paid at the crucem lapideam six
horseshoes with nails for a certain building which he held of the king
_in capite_ opposite the stone cross.”
This recalls to mind that in the reign of Henry III., and even later,
horseshoes and horseshoe nails were frequently taken in lieu of rent.
Whether or no horseshoes were of exceptional value does not appear,
but we are led to suppose that they must have been from the fact that
in 1251 a farrier named Walter le Brun, who lived in the Strand, in
London, was granted a plot of land in the parish of St Clements “to
place there a forge, six horseshoes to be paid to the parish every
year for the privilege.”
In after years the same plot was granted to the Mayor and citizens of
London, who, it is said, still render six horseshoes to the Exchequer
annually.
According to the Statutes, 25, Edward I., c. 21; and 36, Edward III.
cc. 4, 5, the king could commandeer from his subjects as many horses
as he might need for his own service. By the nobles and barons this
was deemed a harsh measure, and frequently they rebelled against it.
Some of the more spirited even refused to acknowledge its validity,
with the result that a number were slain whilst attempting to retain
their horses by force; others were imprisoned; and a few were put to
death as rebels. Indeed at this period the theft of a horse ranked
second only to murder, and was punished as severely.
* * * * *
A horse upon whose history several more or less romantic stories and
poems have been based was the bay charger owned by King Edward I. that
Sir Eustace de Hecche rode in the battle of Falkirk in 1298. It had a
white stocking on its near hind leg, and according to one story its
sire and grandsire had each a white stocking almost exactly similar.
Some say that this charger—it had several names, apparently—was
killed in the battle, for it is known beyond dispute that many of the
chargers owned by knights, barons, valets and esquires were slain in
that great conflict.
Other reports, however, have it that Sir Eustace's mount came through
the fight without a scratch. Sir Eustace was singularly attached to
this particular horse and is said to have refused offers of large sums
if he would sell it. He is also accredited with the remark that in
courage and intelligence his bay charger eclipsed all other war horses
he had ever owned.
Much of interest to do with horses has been narrated by a
distinguished writer who flourished towards the end of the thirteenth
and in the beginning of the fourteenth centuries—namely, Marco Polo.
His remarks about the superstitions that were prevalent in his time
are exceptionally instructive.
Writing of the city of Chandu which was founded by Kublai and that
gave the name to the river known now as Shangtu, Polo tells us to
remember that the Kaan owned an immense stud of white horses and
mares, some 10,000 in all, “and not one with a speck or blemish
visible.” The milk of these mares was reserved for the Kaan and his
family, “and they drank a great deal of it,” the rest being given to
some of the more distant relatives of the tribe.
Upon occasions, however, a tribe named Horiad was allowed to drink of
the milk of the mares, “the privilege being granted them,” as Polo
says, “by Chinghas Kaan on account of a certain victory they long ago
helped him to win.”
Elsewhere Polo describes what may be termed the etiquette it was
essential the traveller should observe who chanced to come upon the
herd of white mares when they were travelling.
“Be he the greatest lord in the land,” he tells us, “he must not
presume to pass until the mares have gone by, but must either tarry
where he is, or go half-a-day's journey round, if need so be, so as
not to come nigh them, for they are to be treated with the greatest
respect.”
Non-observance of this unwritten law brought grief in its train, the
punishments inflicted being as varied as they were horrible.
Furthermore, every year, on the 28th of August, “the lord set out from
the park,” upon which occasion none of the mares' milk was drunk.
Instead it was collected in large-mouthed vessels kept expressly for
the purpose and the occasion, and after that it was “sprinkled over a
vast stretch of ground and in many different directions.”
This was done “on the injunction of the Idolaters and Idol-priests,”
who steadfastly maintained that if the milk were thus sprinkled once a
year “the Earth and the Air and the Gods shall have their share of it,
and the Spirits likewise that inhabit the Air and the Earth.... And
thus those beings will protect and bless the Kaan and his children,
and his wives, and his folk, and his gear, and his cattle, and his
horses, and his corn, and all that is his; and after this done the
Emperor is off and away.”
It is strange, also significant, that in almost every age allusion has
been made to the respect habitually paid to white horses, especially
pure white horses. From Homer we know that in his period, or towards
the latter part of the eighth century B.C., the Thracians, the
Illyrians and the people of Upper Europe spoke of white horses as
though they almost worshipped them as gods.
In those early times it was deemed criminal intentionally to wound a
white horse, while to kill one even by accident was thought to be but
little less blameworthy—save, of course, upon occasions when a white
horse was to be sacrificed to please the gods or to appease their
anger.
Some centuries later Herodotus virtually repeats what Homer has
already told us, and gives us to understand in addition that by that
time parts of Russia teemed with white horses, many of them of great
value.
Whether towards the end of the third and the beginning of the
second centuries B.C. the Russians treated even white horses with
ordinary humanity would appear doubtful, though we know that Russians
entertained superstitious and grotesque beliefs concerning horses that
were either white or cream-coloured.
Finally, some seven centuries later, Marco Polo comes with his
remarkable narratives of the Tartars' herds of white horses and their
strange beliefs concerning them. From other sources particulars may
be obtained of the barbarous practices these Tartars had recourse to
upon the occasions of their sacrificial ceremonies, particulars of too
revolting a nature to be given here.
And now again we find allusion to the Turf. Apparently Edward II.
disliked horse racing—such horse-racing as there was in his reign—and
all that appertained to it, for upon the feast of St George in the
year 1309 we find him interdicting “a tournament which was to be
held on Newmarket Heath”; an act that made him unpopular for the
moment, though when some years later he deliberately put a stop to
preparations in progress in connection with a similar tournament
nobody seemed much to mind.
That the people of England were none the less interested in horses
at about this time we may infer from the knowledge we have that John
Gyfford and William Twety had already issued their books upon horses
and hunting, books to be seen to this day among the manuscripts in the
Cottonian Collection, and that were, if one may express it so, widely
read when first written.
Strictly dissimilar were the views of Edward III. from those of his
predecessors where the subject of horses and the various forms of
sport in which the horse plays a prominent part were concerned. The
steps taken by Edward II. deliberately to foster general dislike of
certain branches of sport had not achieved the desired effect save
amongst his small circle of sycophants, and one of Edward III.'s first
acts upon succeeding him was to gather together a stud of the swiftest
running horses procurable.
This act it was that led the popular King of Navarre to select “two
swift-running horses of great beauty” from his stable and send them as
a present to Edward III.; a compliment which pleased Edward greatly
and that he quickly acknowledged.
In this reign, also in the reign of the succeeding monarch, Richard
II., Acts were passed which directly tended to encourage the breeding
and rearing of good horses. Indeed the sums spent by Edward III. in
connection with this must have been prodigious, for it is on record
that upon one occasion he purchased from the Count of Hainault alone
horses to the value of some 25,000 florins.
Many of the horses that he bought, however, came direct from the Low
Countries. Among the royal manors where he established large studs,
especially studs of war horses, were Woodstock, Waltham, Odiham, and
of course Windsor, a proportion of the expense of inaugurating and
supporting these stud farms being defrayed by the sheriffs, according
to royal command.
Yet, in spite of all this, the supply of horses obtainable was not
equal to the demand when the great war with France broke out. At the
battle of Crecy, in 1346, only a proportion of the army of Edward III.
and the Black Prince had horses, though we know that almost on the eve
of the campaign considerable sums were spent upon the purchase of
horses from the King of Gascony and from several large owners.
This seems stranger still when we remember that the English army at
Crecy was limited to some 36,000 men only, whereas King Philip's
forces numbered over 130,000.
Crecy, indeed, is one of the few historical battles in which the army
that was the best mounted did not win the day; but then all historians
admit that the bowmen the English brought into the field upon that
occasion were probably among the best disciplined and the most expert
that had ever before been seen in action.
On the other hand the horses of the opposing forces were not of the
best. Many had hardly been trained at all to arms, and many more had
been commandeered and hurried into the field almost at the eleventh
hour. Some historians hold that Philip's army would have fared better
had there been fewer men-at-arms in the fighting line, and it is
possible that upon this single occasion if the army had had fewer
horses it might have achieved success.
CHAPTER II
Richard II.'s horse, Roan Barbary—Thoroughbred English horses
characteristic of the nation—Chaucer; Cambuscan's wooden
horse—Don Quixote's Aligero Clavileno—Horse race between the
Prince of Wales and Lord Arundel—The Chevalier Bayard; his
horse, Carman—The Earl of Warwick's horse, Black Saladin—Joan of
Arc—King Richard's horse, White Surrey—Charles VIII. of France's
horse, Savoy—Dame Julyana Berners—Wolsey's horsemanship—Queen
Elizabeth's stud
“When the Pale was troubled by an eruption of the O'Byrnes and
O'Moores in 1372”—Professor Ridgeway writes in his interesting and
instructive work, “The Origin and Influence of the Thoroughbred
Horse”—“who burned the priory of Athy, John Colton, the first Master
of Gonville Hall (now Gonville and Caius College) and successively
Dean of St Patrick's, Chancellor of Ireland, and Archbishop of Armagh,
raised a force of twenty-six knights and a large body of men-at-arms
and fell upon the Irish and defeated them with great slaughter.”
Upon referring to the records of this incident, to be found in several
of our histories, it becomes evident that in the Pale at that time
there must have been many horses of the stamp that to-day we speak of
as the “great” horse.
The insurrection alluded to so lightly as “an eruption of the
O'Byrnes and O'Moores” in reality was a serious affair, due, we are
told, mainly to the almost total disregard of certain just demands
made by O'Byrne, O'Moore and their followers. The Irish were for the
most part badly mounted and poorly armed, many of their horses having
been seized surreptitiously a short time prior to the outbreak, but
they appear to have made a very gallant defence.
John Colton's men-at-arms were, however, nearly all of great weight
and heavily armed, so it is not surprising to read that they “made
short work of the Irish rebels.” Remarkable would it have been had
they not done so, for we must bear in mind that their suppressors were
of immeasurably superior strength.
* * * * *
A horse foaled some years after this, which lived to become famous
in British history, was King Richard II.'s barbary, often called
Roan Barbary. The king, we are told in rather extravagant language,
“loved Roan Barbary as an only son,” and certainly it is true that
he was exceptionally fond of this particular horse which poets,
dramatists and writers of romance at various periods have all united
in immortalising.
Richard's grief and rage at hearing that Bolingbroke had chosen Roan
Barbary, of all horses, upon which to ride to Westminster when he
went there to be crowned, has many times been described, Shakespeare
himself referring to the incident in _King Richard II_. in the
well-known line, “When Bolingbroke rode on Roan Barbary, that horse
that thou so often hast bestrid.” Roan Barbary was a tall horse, well
shaped and well schooled, but of uncertain temper. The king “could
do with the steed whate'er he wished,” but some of the grooms hardly
dared approach to groom it “lest he sideways kick them.”
It is interesting to note here that the history of early times, when
it touches upon horses—which it does frequently—alludes upon many
occasions to the partiality of particular horses for certain persons,
and to their equally marked dislike for certain other persons.
The inference naturally would be that these particular horses were
partial to the men who treated them humanely and disliked those who
ill-treated them. If the early historians are to be believed, however,
the horses' likes and dislikes for various persons were irrespective
of the way they had been treated by such persons.
Particularly does this appear to have been the case with Roan Barbary,
for we are assured that all who had charge of him, or to do with
him in any way, treated him invariably “with kindness and great
cordiality” (!) the king having issued strict orders that they should.
In the British Museum there may be seen to-day a French metrical
history of the deposition of Richard II. which informs us that the
king owned “many a good horse of foreign breed.”
* * * * *
Mr J. P. Hore, the well-known authority, is of opinion that “the
thoroughbred English horse was characteristic of the nation” in the
reign of Richard II., and adds that “horses were then recognised and
their praises sung.”
There is no doubt that between 1377 and 1399 the interest taken in
horses in this country by persons of almost every class developed
rapidly. The agricultural community in particular had by then begun
to turn its attention seriously to the rearing of a better stamp of
horse, and we know that Chaucer, who lived from 1328 to 1400, tells us
that his famous monk had “full many a daintie horse in stable.”
Chaucer's interesting references to the various sorts of horse in use
in the fourteenth century are numerous, and they serve to show that
persons of different rank rode horses of different stamp. Thus on that
fine April morning when the motley party of pilgrims set out from the
Bell at Southwark upon their hasty journey we find the Knight mounted
on a big and powerful horse—naturally a knight wearing armour needed
such a beast to carry him—whereas the steed ridden by “the Clerk of
Oxenford” was “as leane as any rake.”
The Wife of Bath, on the other hand, with her “great spurs,” sat
astride an “amblere”; the Ploughman rode “a mere”; the Shipman from
Dartmouth rode “a rouncy as he couth”; while the Reeve “sat upon a fit
good stot that was all pomely gray, and highte Scot.” In the “Knight's
Tale” we find the King of Ynde riding “a horse of baye.”
Apparently at this time greater attention was paid to the breeding and
rearing of horses for war than for hunting or for “speed competitions”
or any other purpose. Evidently King Richard had become more fully
aware of the possibilities that existed for the use of powerful
cavalry than any of his predecessors had done. Indeed he is said to
have expressed upon one occasion a strong wish that his army might one
day consist of cavalry only.
He believed, too, that the heavier the chargers were the more
formidable the regiment must be, and so wholly did this belief obsess
him that upon occasions he betrayed a tendency to overlook the fact
that the heaviest horses in the world, the most finely trained—in
short, the best—must necessarily prove comparatively useless unless
their riders, in addition to being brave and well armed, were
thoroughly trained horsemen and well disciplined.
Referring again to Chaucer, we find in the “Squire's Tale,” which he
did not finish, the well-known story of Cambuscan's wooden horse, and
we find this also in “The Arabian Nights”—that series of delightful
narratives said to have been first made known by Antoine Gallard, the
French Oriental scholar. The famous brazen horse of romance is the
same, for it was Cambuscan's, and Cambuscan was King of Sarra, in
Tartary. Cambuscan possessed, so it was said, all the virtues that are
popularly attributed to a king, yet withal none of a king's vices;
also he was said to be passionately devoted to his queen, Elfeta, who
bore him two sons, Algarsife and Cambalo, and one daughter, Canace.
We are further told that the King of Arabia and India presented
Cambuscan with “a steed of brass, which between sunrise and sunset
would carry its rider to any spot on earth.” To make the horse do this
all that was necessary was that its rider should whisper into its ear
the name of the place to which he wished to travel, and that he should
then mount the horse and turn a pin set in its ear.
This done, the “animal” would go direct and at great speed to the
place required, whereupon the rider turned another pin and descended.
By turning a third pin it was possible to make the horse vanish and
not reappear until its presence was again needed.
Aligero Clavileno was the full name of the winged horse with the
wooden pin, the horse which Don Quixote rode upon the memorable
occasion of his rescue of Dolorida and her companions.
But enough of fairy tales and nonsense. Coming to the subject of horse
races in early times we find it gravely stated that “the earliest
description of a horse race _per se_ occurs in 1377,” though we know
that race meetings of a sort were held long before that date. The
whereabouts of the track where the races in 1377 took place has not
been ascertained, but it is known that some of the horses which ran
belonged to Lord Arundel, and some to the Prince of Wales, so soon to
become Richard II.
At this meeting it was that a match was arranged to take place between
the Prince and Lord Arundel, each to ride his own animal. The match
was run, and as the name of the winner has not, so far as I have been
able to ascertain, been handed down to us, we may conclude that the
Prince's horse was beaten. Had the winner been ridden by a Prince of
Wales some record of the victory would assuredly be extant.
That Richard II. was a fine horseman, as finished horsemanship was
understood in those days, there can be but little doubt. Yet it is
remarkable that the natural gift known as “hands”—that is to say the
power some men have of controlling a horse by delicate manipulation
of the reins as opposed to brute force—apparently was not taken into
consideration in the early centuries, or else was not understood and
consequently not cultivated. To-day, of course, a man with bad “hands”
is not deemed a horseman, properly speaking.
Thus it comes that we find some of the early instructors in
horsemanship deliberately advising the novice to catch hold of the
reins tightly in order to keep his seat with greater ease! Some of the
early pictures, too, of men on horseback show the rider with his hands
firmly clenched, even when the horse is walking, the reins held quite
tight.
It has been argued that men sheathed from head to foot in the heavy
plate armour of the fifteenth century could not have ridden gracefully
even had they wished to do so. Long before armour of that pattern
had come into vogue, however, the riders apparently were indifferent
horsemen inasmuch as they had for the most part bad “hands,” if we are
to judge from early pictures and descriptions.
* * * * *
Many stories to do with horses have been woven round the celebrated
French knight, Pierre du Terrail, Chevalier Bayard, and it is known
that whatever the qualities, fictitious or otherwise, may have been
that his horses are alleged to have possessed, Bayard was a fine
rider, “the boldest horseman of his period” as one historian describes
him.
Of medium height, slim, and a light weight, he was “of wholly
irreproachable character”; hence the description which still clings to
his memory—_Le chevalier sans peur et sans reproche_.
Truly remarkable are some of the feats of horsemanship attributed to
him still. Thus it is said that he could ride any horse bareback and
without a bridle, and that he rode in this way several savage animals
which, when saddled and bridled, several famous horsemen were not able
even to mount. But such stories must, of course, be believed only in
part.
Probably the best horse owned by this knight was the one named Carman,
or Carmen, a gift of the Duke of Lorrain. Particulars about its make
and shape apparently are not on record, but Carman carried Bayard
through several severe engagements, though thrice severely wounded.
It is said that Bayard was able to guide this horse by word of mouth
alone, when he found it advisable to do so, and that upon some
occasions the steed “would neigh in reply as though joyful at hearing
its master's voice.”
Furthermore he could ride Carman over country no matter how rough, and
the horse would never slip or stumble. It may in addition have been a
clever fencer, for we read that the knight “rode with reckless daring
at many obstacles” when mounted on his favourite steed.
In at least one work of fiction the Chevalier Bayard has been rather
amusingly confounded with the mythological steed of the four sons
of Aymon that bore the name Bayard and that used so conveniently to
grow larger when more than one of the four sons wanted to mount it at
the same time. The name is said to signify the colour of bright bay,
and the legend still obtains that a hoof mark of this mythical horse
remains to this day in the forest of Soignes, while another of its
hoof marks may be seen on a rock near Dinant. It was of this horse
that Sir Walter Scott wrote in _The Lady of the Lake_ the following
lines:—
“Stand, Bayard, stand! The steed obeyed
With arching neck, and bended head,
And glaring eye and quivering ear,
As if he loved his lord to hear.”
The Earl of Warwick's coal-black charger, Black Saladin, is eulogised
in almost every history of the Wars of the Roses; yet, when all is
said, Black Saladin does not appear to have done anything sufficiently
remarkable to have justified his earning the immortal reputation that
he undoubtedly has obtained. A big, powerful animal, it must in
justice be said of him that he carried his master creditably through
several rather bloody encounters before man and horse were killed in
the great conflict at Barnet.
According to Hume's “History of England”—and probably no history
extant is more accurate in detail—Warwick, when he received the fatal
thrust, was fighting on foot.
No trustworthy description is obtainable of the horse that Joan of
Arc rode when she led the French army so successfully against the
previously victorious troops of Henry VI. Only one indisputable
statement relating to her leadership upon that famous occasion has
been handed down to us, and that is that she rode astride.
Pictures innumerable have been painted that depict her as she is
supposed to have appeared in the heat of the fray, and others that
show her to us as she ought to have looked when the engagement was
over. By basing our impressions solely upon such pictures we might
well conclude that the Pucelle went into action riding a white horse;
that in the thick of the fight she changed first on to a dun-coloured
mare and then on to a bright bay mare; and that when the engagement
was over she once more changed horses in order to ride back triumphant
on a stallion as black as Black Saladin himself!
According to Mr Douglas Murray, whose “History of Joan of Arc,”
published recently, is the most exhaustive and authoritative work we
have upon the career of that heroic young woman, Joan would appear to
have been quite a good horsewoman. “She rode horses so ill-tempered
that no one else would dare to mount them.” The Duke of Lorraine, also
the Duc d'Alençon, after seeing her skill in riding a course, each
gave her a horse; and we read also of the gift of a war horse from
the town of Orleans, and “many horses of value” sent from the Duke of
Brittany. She had entered Orleans on a white horse, according to the
_Journal du Siège d'Orleans_; but seems to have been in the habit of
riding black chargers in war; and mention is also made by Chatelain of
a “lyart” or grey.
A story, repeated in a letter from Guy de Laval, a grandson of
Bertrand du Guesclin, relates that on one occasion when her horse, “a
fine black war horse,” was brought to the door, he was so restive that
he would not stand still. “Take him to the Cross,” she said; and there
he stood, “as though he were tied,” while she mounted. This was at
Selles, in 1429.
Two famous horses of the fifteenth century were King Richard's White
Surrey, and Savoy, the favourite steed of King Charles VIII. of
France, which was coal-black and took its name from the Duke of Savoy
from whom King Charles had received it as a present.
The king rode White Surrey frequently when travelling in state. That
he had many other white steeds seems obvious, and evidently he was
extremely partial to horses of that colour, for we find him telling
his nobles to use their influence to induce the wealthier section of
his subjects to breed and rear horses “white and grey.”
Savoy, though what we should to-day term a “good plucked” horse, is
said to have been “of mean stature,” also it had a blind eye. Charles
VIII. nevertheless rode it in preference to any other horse in his
stud, and that his stud was a very large one we are told by some of
the earlier historians.
Not a graceful horseman, he nevertheless had a firm seat, and it is
interesting to read that he was extremely sensitive upon the subject
of his horsemanship. So emphatically was this the case that upon one
occasion he severely rebuked one of his courtiers who had remarked
unwittingly in his presence that men existed who were physically
incapable of becoming good riders. According to this king, indeed, one
of the duties of every gentleman was to become proficient in the art
of horsemanship.
At about this time—that is to say towards the close of the fifteenth
century—a book that has since been rightly or wrongly described as
“the first work on sport ever issued in England” was published. When
first it appeared it attracted much attention. Printed for Dame
Julyana Berners, who evidently had much practical knowledge of horses
and the way to manage them, it mentions incidentally that every good
horse ought to possess the following fifteen “properties”:—
“Of a man:—bolde, prowde, and hardy.
Of a woman:—fayrbrested, fayr of heere, and easy
to leape upon.
Of a fox:—a fayr taylle, short eeres, with a good
trotte.
Of a haare:—a grete eye, a dry hede, and well
runnynge.
Of an asse:—a bygge chyn, a flatte legge, and a
good hoof.”
From the above list we may conclude that in spite of the unwieldy
appearance of most of the horses shown in the early drawings there
must have been plenty of active animals in England long before the
second half of the sixteenth century. Most likely the large and clumsy
horses belonged practically to the class that to-day we speak of as
shire horses, and that the majority were employed for carrying men in
armour, historians being unanimous in declaring that by the middle of
the sixteenth century a man of medium height could not, when sheathed
in armour, have weighed together with the armour worn by his horse
less than some thirty stone, and that often he must have weighed more.
This no doubt is the reason we read so frequently that in the
sixteenth century considerable attention was paid to breeding and
rearing great horses of Flanders, Friesland, France and Germany.
* * * * *
The majority of our historians seem not to have realised fully that
in Thomas Wolsey, afterwards Cardinal Wolsey, we had probably one of
the finest horsemen of the period of Henry VII. and Henry VIII. The
extreme brilliancy of Wolsey's public career possibly may have caused
his lesser accomplishments to be eclipsed or over-looked, for that he
possessed minor accomplishments is well known.
It was in Henry VII.'s reign, and probably about the year 1500, that
Wolsey first had occasion to display his horsemanship in rather a
prominent manner. For we read that “the king, having received a
communication from the reigning emperor, Maximilian, and being at a
loss as to how he should reply to it in the shortest possible time,
turned abruptly to Thomas Wolsey to solicit his advice, Wolsey being
at that time the king's chaplain; whereupon Wolsey replied without
hesitation that if the king would entrust him with a despatch he would
deliver it to the emperor with but little delay.”
After pondering the proposal for some moments, Henry accepted the
offer, and a little later handed to Wolsey a sealed packet, urging him
to convey it with all speed and not be hindered by anybody. This took
place, we are told, at Richmond, at about noon. Then and there the
chaplain mounted the horse he had ready, and rode away.
That he must have galloped almost all the way to Dover, changing
horses several times, is certain, for he arrived there on the
following morning before daylight. By noon on the day after he was
at Calais, and at nightfall he personally handed King Henry's sealed
dispatch to the Emperor Maximilian. Having received Maximilian's
reply, Wolsey at once mounted a fresh horse that had been saddled for
him and set out once more for Calais, which town he reached on the
same night, so that by the following evening he was again at Richmond.
The king, however, had already retired to rest, and Wolsey therefore
was compelled to wait until the morning to deliver Maximilian's
reply. It so happened that he was walking in the park when presently
the king overtook him and at once began to upbraid him for his delay
in starting for France. Wolsey remained silent and collected until
the king had stopped speaking, then, without a word, he produced the
despatch that he had brought from Maximilian.
King Henry, we are told, was thereupon “both amazed and delighted,”
and with great rapidity the story of the chaplain's remarkable ride to
Paris and back again was noised abroad.
Wolsey's reputation for horsemanship was firmly established from that
time forward, and Henry, to mark his appreciation of the chaplain's
exploit, bestowed upon him the deanery of Lincoln, and not long
afterwards made him his almoner. Thus did the man obtain his first
step to power who one day was to become the all-powerful Cardinal.
I have not been able to find in any books or documents particulars
concerning the horses ridden by Wolsey in that famous journey. From
what has been said, however, we may conclude that he rode horses of
a stamp very different from the heavy, clumsy animals so plentiful
in England at the time, for to have covered so many miles in so few
hours the horses must have been of the swiftest, especially when it is
remembered that the roads at that period were of the roughest possible
description.
In later years, owing partly to his increasing weight, Wolsey almost
entirely gave up riding. Yet the interest that he had always taken
in horse breeding remained, and though his many and arduous duties
occupied much of his leisure he nevertheless found time to devote some
of his attention to the rearing of riding and driving horses, and to
the breeding of shire horses.
Some of his Eastern sires, indeed—and we know that he had a large stud
of them—are said to have been among the most valuable of the breeding
stock that until then had ever been known, which may have been the
reason that in after years Queen Elizabeth expended such vast sums
upon increasing and still further improving the stud that had been
Wolsey's.
Elizabeth, however, as we shall presently see, upon the whole took
greater interest in “running horses” than in the clumsy shire
stallions, and though it is said that she never was actually present
at a race meeting held at Newmarket, she is known to have owned
a number of race horses the majority of which were stabled near
Greenwich and trained chiefly upon Blackheath.
In connection with Wolsey and his undoubted fondness for horses, it
is interesting to learn that he cared but little for any form of
gambling, though “the sight of a contest between running horses of
high spirit delighted him.” Until the period when he gave up riding he
preferred at all times to be himself on horseback rather than watch
others, a statement that has been misinterpreted by one writer to mean
that Wolsey preferred to ride in races rather than watch others ride
races for him!
I believe I am right in saying that Wolsey never rode in any race of
any kind, also that he took more active interest in the chase than in
the turf—such turf, that is to say, as there was in the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries to take interest in.
Upon that point Henry VII. held views somewhat different from his
chaplain's. The spectacle afforded by a horse race gave him scant
gratification, and as a result he did little to develop and encourage
horse racing or to better the condition of the turf.
Probably the only ride in the nature of a horse race that did stir him
into displaying enthusiasm was Wolsey's race just described. This feat
Wolsey but rarely spoke about, save when questioned by friends. His
technical knowledge of horses is said to have been profound, so much
so that frequently men quite unknown to him would come many miles to
obtain his opinion upon the condition of a sick horse, and usually he
was willing to tender advice even to strangers.
Indeed his willingness to be of service when a horse was in distress
appears to have remained one of Wolsey's marked characteristics until
nearly the end of his life. Historians have for the most part depicted
him a stern, unbending man from the time he was made Cardinal; yet he
is known to have performed many small acts of kindness for which the
world probably did not give him credit.
Whether the advice he tendered in cases of horse sickness was
invariably sound is doubtful. The amazing ignorance of the anatomy of
the human body that prevailed four hundred years ago leads naturally
to the inference that ignorance of the anatomy of the horse must have
been even greater. Probably the advice tendered by Wolsey was about
upon a par in point of soundness with the advice that passed current
towards the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth
centuries for “wisdom in medicine and chirurgery.”
Certainly we do not find allusion made to such common modern ailments
in horses as spavins, navicular, ringbones and splints. Cracked heels
may have been a common frequent source of lameness, for the shoes
ordinarily used were clumsy, crude things knocked into shape in a
rudimentary way, even those with which the most valuable of horses
were commonly shod.
The horse breakers and trainers of the early part of the sixteenth
century seem to have been of one opinion as to the most effectual way
of, so to speak, bringing a horse to his senses, and that was the
simplest way of all—namely, by starving him!
That so barbarous, and, let it be added so wholly ineffectual a method
should have been resorted to where horses were concerned is perhaps
hardly to be wondered at when we bear in mind that only a little over
a century ago the same method was employed with lunatics who showed
signs of insubordination.
For the idea used to be—and it has not yet quite died out—that a high
temper must primarily be the outcome of high feeding. We read that
upon one occasion Henry VII. commanded that a horse he was to ride in
a public procession be left unfed for twenty-four hours, and as no
reason is assigned for the order we are justified in conjecturing that
he must have felt inwardly nervous, possibly that he feared the animal
might, if fed as usual, prove to be what we call to-day “a handful”!
In other respects the horses of some four hundred years ago would seem
to have been treated at any rate with ordinary humanity.
CHAPTER III
Inauguration and development of the Royal Stud—Exportation
of horses declared by Henry VIII. to be illegal—Sale of
horses to Scotsmen pronounced to be an act of felony—Riding
matches become popular—Ferdinand of Arragon's gift of horses
to Henry VIII.—Henry's love of hunting—King Henry stakes the
bells of St Paul's on a throw of the dice—Some horses of
romance—Horse-breeding industry crippled in Scotland
The accession of Henry VIII. to the throne, in 1509, marked the
beginning of a great development in the breeding and rearing of
valuable horses, for that erratic monarch, whatever his failings may
have been—and that he had a few failings we have reason to know—was at
heart a sportsman in the true meaning of the now frequently misused
term.
We read that soon after ascending the throne “he took steps to arrange
for the importation from Italy, Spain, Turkey and elsewhere, at
regular intervals, of the best stallions and some of the best mares
procurable.” That done, he set to work to establish at Hampton Court
the Royal Stud which later was to become so famous, and among the many
horses he received as gifts—the majority from men anxious to keep in
favour with a monarch so all-powerful—were the famous mares “perfect
in shape and size” that Francesco Gonzaga, the Marquis of Mantua,
sent over in 1514, a gift to which he soon afterwards added “a Barb
worth its weight in silver” which he declared he had taken great pains
to secure.
That Henry was deeply gratified is obvious from his remark that he
“had never ridden better trained horses,” and that “for years he had
not received such an agreeable present.”
* * * * *
As time went on, and the Royal Stud steadily increased, the fame of
Henry's horses spread not only throughout the kingdom, but also across
the seas and into remote parts of the Continent, with the natural
result that presently attempts were made to obtain surreptitiously
foals known to have been bred in the famous paddocks.
Henry, upon hearing this, became extremely angry, and this knowledge
it probably was that in a measure prompted him to render illegal the
exportation beyond the seas of mares or horses bred in England, and,
in addition, to threaten with severe punishment anyone discovered
making the attempt.
There cannot, indeed, be any doubt that before the passing of this Act
many horses had been sent abroad from various parts of the country,
and that in consequence the British stock probably would soon have
depreciated in value had Henry not thus effectually put a stop to the
practice at the outset.
Yet we are told that in spite of this the king's act greatly annoyed
several of the more powerful of his nobles, even that in some of the
provinces it led almost to open rebellion, many men of private means
having been in the habit of considerably augmenting their fortunes by
secretly exporting horses upon what was in those days deemed to be
rather a large scale.
So strong, indeed, did the feeling throughout the country gradually
grow, that in a short time it was decided to present the king with “a
request”—presumably what we should to-day term a petition—in the hope
that he might thereby be induced to revoke his rather arbitrary order.
Whether the request ever was presented does not appear, but certainly
Henry did not revoke the order.
On the contrary, soon after prohibiting the exportation of horses
beyond the seas he issued a supplementary edict which in effect
rendered the exportation of horses to any foreign port, with the
exception of Calais, a very grave offence; while the “exportation” of
horses into Scotland, and even the bare act of selling to any Scotsman
any horse without having first obtained the king's permission to do
so, became an act of felony alike to vendor and purchaser.
Of course so unjust a law as the latter soon stirred up a strong
feeling of resentment amongst Henry's subjects; yet in spite of their
bitter complaints they were compelled to comply with it.
Thus it soon came about that men who had been living comparatively in
opulence before the passing of these laws now found themselves reduced
to genteel poverty, whereupon, as if to add insult to injury, Henry
passed yet another statute—27, Henry VIII., c. 6.
This statute enacted that all farmers in receipt of a certain stated
income, also all owners of parks, as well as certain other persons,
should rear and keep a specified number of brood mares, of a height
not less than thirteen hands, the penalty for failing to comply with
the order being fixed at forty shillings a month.
The statute in addition commanded that upon every park of not less
than four miles in extent—this is understood to have meant four miles
in circumference—at least four mares should be kept, the same fine,
forty shillings a month, to be extorted from all who failed to keep
the law.
That these laws, though severe and unjust, achieved their purpose we
may conclude from the statement that soon after they had been passed
there were to be found in England five times more horses ready to be
put into the field in a case of emergency, and that these horses were
all of great value.
Yet once again an attempt was made to induce Henry to revoke his laws
forbidding the exportation of horses, and again the attempt proved
futile. The Scottish nation in particular felt deeply aggrieved at
what they somewhat naturally deemed to be an insult paid to them
by the king, but Henry, beyond threatening that if the complaints
continued he would put a stop to them in rather a forcible manner,
paid no heed whatever. And at just about this time it was that a
number of Lowlanders were, so it is alleged, severely punished for
purchasing horses of Englishmen in defiance of Henry's command.
And still the king remained unsatisfied. He had openly declared that
he would transform England into the foremost country in Europe for
valuable and well-bred horses, and to facilitate his doing so he
presently passed another statute.
In this statute he commanded that stoned horses under fifteen hands
were not to be put to pasture in any wood or forest in certain
counties (which he mentioned), the penalty for breaking the law to be
forfeiture to the Crown, while in certain other counties the law was
to apply to horses under fourteen hands.
Yet another statute which he drew up—33, Henry VIII., c. 5—enacted
that dukes and archbishops must maintain seven stoned trotting horses
for the saddle; marquises, earls and bishops, five; and viscounts and
barons with incomes of not less than 1000 marks, five.
In the same way subjects with an income of 500 marks were each to
maintain two of these trotting horses for the saddle, while men with
an income of 100 marks, whose wives should “wear any gown of silk, or
any French hood or bonnet of velvet, with any habiliment, paste or
egg of gold, pearl or stone, or any chain of gold about their necks,
or in their partlets, or in any apparel on their body,” were by the
law compelled to maintain one saddle horse, severe penalties being
inflicted if they failed to do so.
I have somewhere seen it stated that these Acts were repealed by
Edward VI., but they were not. They were developed by William and
Mary, and further developed by Elizabeth. Upon each occasion the
renewal and development of these statutes caused bad blood and brought
forth threats of retaliation, but the latter were not carried out.
That the obvious injustice of laws so arbitrary should have created
friction, is not to be wondered at; yet the benefit that subsequently
accrued to the country through passing them was enormous.
Indeed it is more than likely that if Henry VIII., William and Mary,
and Elizabeth had given way to the demands of a great body of their
subjects between three and four hundred years ago, England would not
have become famous above all other countries for its horses, as it is
to-day.
It was in the reign of Henry VIII. that riding matches first began
to acquire popularity, and to attract the attention of the “bloods”
of about that period. Several descriptions of the way in which such
matches were arranged and carried out are in existence, and perhaps a
brief account of rather a famous match that was ridden by Richard de
la Pole, the third Duke of Suffolk, against Seigneur Nicolle Dex, will
here prove of interest.
The Duke of Suffolk—“Blanche Rose” as his intimate friends called
him—was the third son of John de la Pole, his mother being the Lady
Elizabeth Plantagenet, Edward IV.'s and Richard III.'s sister.
In the year 1517, soon after the Duke had returned to Metz, the
popularity of the turf began suddenly to increase, and thus it
happened that the Duke presently became the possessor of a horse said
to be “very swift and of extreme value,” of which he boasted that it
could beat all comers. It was while talking thus in Metz one day that
Blanche Rose was taken at his word by the Seigneur Nicolle Dex, who
declared without hesitation that he could and would himself produce
and ride a horse against the Duke's “from the Elm at Avegney to within
St Clement's Gate,” for the sum of eighty crowns “and win easily.”
At once Blanche Rose accepted the challenge, promising at the same
time that he too would ride his own horse, and forthwith the stakes
were handed to “an independent and neutral person” by each of the
contestants.
Arrangements having been made that the match should be run early in
the morning of St Clement's Day, May 2nd, we read that, “a ce jour
meisme que l'on courre l'awaine et le baicon au dit lieu St Clement,”
the two riders, accompanied by many of their friends, went out through
St Thiebault's gate, which had been opened before the usual time to
suit their convenience, “and so passed into the field for the race.”
There was much wagering on the result, and, as we should to-day
express it, the Duke's mount was hot favourite. That Seigneur Nicolle
was no novice in race riding is made manifest by the statement that he
had taken the precaution to have his horse shod with extremely light
shoes, also that “he came into the field like a groom, in his doublet
and without shoes, and with no saddle but with a cloth tied round the
horse's belly,” whereas the Duke wore comparatively heavy clothing and
rode in a heavy saddle.
The Duke's horse, however, jumped away with the lead and retained
it during the first half of the race, “but when they were near St
Laidre his horse lagged behind, so that the Duke urged him on with
spurs until the blood streamed down on both sides; but it was in vain,
Nicolle gained the race and the hundred and sixty crowns of the sum.”
Several writers tell us that Nicolle Dex had trained his horse on
white wine, but the truth would seem to be that he himself trained on
white wine. We are informed, in addition, that the horse was not given
any hay.
“Le dit Seigneur Nicolle n'avoit point donne de foin a son chevaulx,
ne n'avoit beu aultre chose que du vin blanc.”
What the horses of four hundred years ago were chiefly fed on is
uncertain. We know that usually they were given hay, but we find
mention made repeatedly of “horse bread.” Probably this horse bread
resembled the modern oil cake upon which cattle is fed, for we read
that it tended to make the horses' coats “soft and glossy,” an
attribute of oil cake of which horse dealers are well aware.
It seems hardly necessary to mention in this connection that in
Henry VIII.'s time, and indeed down to a much later period, the art
of training horses, as we understand it to-day, was practically in
its infancy. Also we are able to infer that it was quite a common
practice to give a horse a drink of water just before running him in a
race, and that what we to-day allude to as the art of judging pace in
connection with race riding probably had never been even thought of.
In Henry VIII.'s reign the habit of naming horses after their breeder
on their previous owner would appear to have come into vogue rather
largely, and from that time onward, for some three centuries and a
half, to have remained in vogue. After that it became customary to
name race horses in rather a grotesque manner.
I have by me a list of names of race horses almost all of which must
have been animals well known in their time. It would be interesting
to hear what Messrs Weatherby would say if we asked them to-day to
enter a mare to run under the name “Pretty Harlot” or, better still,
“Sweetest when Naked”!
Among Henry VIII.'s famous barbs we find several mentioned by name,
and we read incidentally that “during four or six days the king rode
both Altobello and Governatore, but preferred Governatore.”
The Marquis of Mantua had been renowned for his skill in horsemanship,
as well as for the famous stud of horses that he possessed, for some
years before Henry VIII. came to the throne, and this stud is said
to have reached the acme of its excellence about the year 1517, when
Gonzaga, as the Marquis was generally called, received many more
requests for the service of his stallions than he was able to accede
to.
Many, if not actually the majority of the horses that proved most
successful upon the turf during the sixteenth century are said to
have been descendants of the stock bred so carefully and with so much
discrimination by Gonzaga or by King Henry, from which we may conclude
that the assertion made often that until the reign of Queen Anne there
were no race horses in this country worth speaking of is erroneous.
It is said, apparently with truth, that Gonzaga became extremely angry
when, in the year 1515—only a few months after he had presented Henry
with the valuable horses already referred to—Ferdinand of Arragon sent
Henry “a gift of two most excellent horses,” with the message that
he, Ferdinand, believed they would be found to outclass even the fine
horses already in the royal stables at Hampton Court.
An apparently trivial incident such as this helps to show how
thoroughly in earnest the men of fortune must have been who early in
the sixteenth century devoted much time and attention to the breeding
and rearing of valuable horses. It has been alleged that the Marquis
of Mantua made his initial present of horses to King Henry solely
in order to ingratiate himself in royal favour; but the anxiety he
clearly displayed upon several occasions when gifts of horses were
sent to Henry by men of rank and fortune leads to the belief either
that Gonzaga must have been of a jealous nature, or else that he was
inordinately proud of his own stud and extremely desirous that its
high reputation should be maintained.
The value of the two horses sent over by Ferdinand is said to have
been approximately 100,000 ducats. That would seem to be an impossible
sum to have paid in a period when money was worth many times more
than it is to-day; but when we read that both horses were richly
caparisoned (_regio ornatu_) we may well suppose that the sum named
included also the cost of trappings.
Under the circumstances it is perhaps not surprising that Ferdinand
of Arragon—Ferdinand the Catholic, as he was popularly called—should
have been deemed insane by a great body of his subjects when it became
known that he had sent so extravagant a gift to King Henry, his
son-in-law.
So prevalent, indeed, was this impression, that reasons were at once
put forward to account for the alleged lack of intellect. Thus the
incident of his having been poisoned two years before by his new
queen, Germaine de Fois, was mentioned amongst possible causes, the
serious illness that followed having proved almost fatal.
Particulars of this attempt upon the life of Ferdinand the Catholic
are to be found in one of the letters of Peter Martyr, though the
writer of the letter does not seem to think that any insanity with
which the king may have been afflicted towards the close of his
life can have been due to the cause assigned. Indeed in one of these
letters he directly attributes the king's death to over-indulgence
in hunting and matrimony, either of which, as he says, is liable to
hasten dissolution in a man over sixty years of age!
Not content with the very large and valuable stud that he now
possessed, Henry found it necessary in 1518 to send “a Bolognese
gentleman” out to Italy to choose still more horses for him there,
special instructions being given to him that the best animals he
could find in Italy must be bought at once, irrespective of cost,
and shipped across to England without undue delay—an order that
the Bolognese gentleman “obeyed implicitly and to the king's great
satisfaction as well as to his own.” There may well be a hidden
meaning in the last words!
We do not hear anything more that is of interest and that has to do
with Henry's stud until the year 1526, when we read that “eighteen of
the finest of his horses were sent by King Henry VIII. as a gift to
Francis I.” The reason he sent so many is not stated, nor are we told
if these were chargers, race horses or great horses.
After that the sending of gift horses apparently became an established
custom amongst men of rank and of wealth, as well as amongst
potentates, so much so that persons of quality vied one with another
in sending gifts of valuable horses to their friends.
The last present of the sort received by Henry VIII. consisted of
twenty-five Spanish horses sent to him by the emperor, Charles V., in
1539.
Hunting is known to have been one of Henry's favourite amusements, and
in a despatch dated 10th September 1519, written by Giustinian when
Venetian Ambassador to England, we are informed that when Henry hunted
he invariably rode several horses, or, in the words of the despatch,
“never took that diversion without tiring eight or ten horses, which
he caused to be stationed beforehand along the line of country he
meant to take.”
From this and similar statements it has been inferred that the hounds
Henry hunted with ran some artificial line, that otherwise the horses
could not have been stationed “beforehand along the line of country he
meant to take.” The probability, however, is that the king's horses
were stationed at different points all over the country to be hunted,
for it seems impossible that the king, heavy man though he undoubtedly
was, could alone have ridden eight or ten horses to a standstill in a
single day's hunting!
Indeed in Henry III.'s reign the men who hunted regularly most likely
rode more than one horse a day, just as most hunting men do now. At
that period the sport was, of course, very different from our modern
foxhunting, and from the descriptions of it that have been handed down
to us there is reason to believe that plenty of Henry's nobles hunted
not because they were fond of the sport, but because they deemed it
diplomatic to appear to be wholeheartedly as devoted to the chase as
the king himself most certainly was.
Yet the king apparently was not hoodwinked as easily as he may have
appeared to be, or feigned to be, for upon more than one occasion he
availed himself of opportunities to make some of his sycophants look
remarkably ridiculous in public.
In this connection an interesting little story is narrated of Sir
Miles Partridge, a knight who figured rather largely in Henry VIII.'s
reign. Apparently Sir Miles had more than once writhed in silence
beneath the king's gibes, though all the while impatiently awaiting an
opportunity to retaliate in a dignified way.
The opportunity came at last, when the king, in a merry mood,
suggested to the knight that he should dice with him. This happened at
about the time when the monasteries were being dissolved, and Henry's
coffers were in consequence unusually well replenished. At first the
king won persistently; then suddenly his luck deserted him, with the
result that in the end he lost control of his temper and with an oath
shouted at Sir Miles that he would stake upon a single throw of the
dice the great bells of St Paul's against a hundred sovereigns.
The dice were thrown, and Sir Miles won, and the bells, described by a
chronicler of the period as “the greatest peal in England,” were taken
away and melted down, to the knight's unfeigned delight.
It is said that the king never forgave Sir Miles Partridge for this.
Later Sir Miles was charged with some criminal offence and imprisoned,
and in 1551 he was beheaded on Tower Hill.
In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the horse continued to figure
largely in romance, and thus it comes that we find horses, fictitious
and otherwise, playing important rôles in the works of fiction of the
principal authors of about that period.
Ariosto's immortal narrative of “Orlando Furioso,” written towards
the close of the fifteenth or in the beginning of the sixteenth
century, has given us “the little vigilant horse,” Vegliantio, called
Veillantif in the French romance, where Orlando appears as Ronald.
Then we have “the horse of the golden bridle,” Orlando's remarkable
charger, Brigliadoro, whose speed equalled Bajardo's; also Sacripant's
steed, Frontaletto, “the horse with the little head,” that was capable
of doing many extraordinary things. Sacripant, who was King of
Circassia, and a Saracen, held secret consultations with Frontaletto,
and the horse could understand its master's every word.
Rinaldo's horse, Bajardo, made famous in Ariosto's celebrated book,
was a bright bay and very fast, and at one time it had belonged to
Amadis of Gaul. When Malagigi, the wizard, found it in the cave
guarded by “a dragon of great size,” he at once, at considerable
personal risk, attacked the dragon, which in the end he succeeded in
slaying.
According to the legend, Bajardo is still alive, but under no
circumstances can man approach it, nor will any man ever do so. Though
Bajardo figures in several stories, it occurs first in “Orlando
Furioso.”
The original of Rinaldo was the son of the fourth Marquis d'Este,
and Malagigi was Rinaldo's cousin. The habit of drawing fictitious
characters to resemble closely living persons, or well-known persons
of a previous period, was very prevalent among the writers of the
sixteenth century, and therefore it often is difficult to disassociate
the real from the fictitious character.
This may be said too of the horses that we come upon in some of the
better-known of the old-world romances.
Indeed in several stories that could be named, the famous chargers of
notable princes can be recognised under several assumed names.
With the close of Henry VIII.'s reign—that is, in 1547—we come to
an end of what was without doubt a period in which the horse played
a more conspicuous part than it had done since the Norman Conquest.
Upon ascending the throne Henry had found the condition of horse
breeding in this country in rather a bad way. With others, as we have
seen, he had set to work in earnest to improve, to the best of his
ability, the breed of English horses, and though some of the statutes
that he enacted—also some of the methods to which he had recourse in
order to accomplish his object—undoubtedly were drastic, directly and
indirectly they helped to bring about the improvement he desired, and
for this the nation still owes him a debt of gratitude.
Henry's fondness for the chase was equalled only by the keen interest
he took in the rather primitive horse racing of his period, and
trustworthy chroniclers tell us that one of his most cherished
ambitions was to see established in England a stud of the fastest
horses the world had ever known.
When we bear in mind his fondness for horses of all kinds it seems
strange that he should not have been a first-rate judge of a horse.
Of knowledge of a horse's anatomy he had practically none, for
which reason his ignorance in this respect has been contrasted with
the knowledge that Wolsey possessed. Once, indeed, when taxed with
ignorance upon this point by one of his nobles he laughed heartily
and admitted the impeachment.
The order, already referred to, that horses should not be sent across
the border, or sold to Scotsmen, almost completely crippled the
horse-breeding industry north of the Tweed. True, some of the more
powerful of the Scottish clans still owned valuable breeding stock,
yet so strictly were Henry's laws enforced that the chiefs even of
those clans were, with but few exceptions, unable to buy English
stallions or to obtain their services at any time during Henry's reign.
As a well-known Scottish historian has aptly put it, “Henry VIII.
practically ruined Scotland so far as that country's prosperity had
to do with the rearing of horses for the field, an unfair form of
oppression that many Highlanders, and also Lowlanders, have not yet
quite forgotten.”
Perhaps it is worth mentioning here that so far as we are able to
judge from the records of the early historians the men of Scotland
have not, as a body, ever proved themselves to be such finished
horsemen as the English, and more especially the Irish.
This statement is not made in the least in a captious spirit. Why
should it be? Probably the reason the Scotch are, as a nation, less
finished horsemen, is that they are men of large bone, considerable
weight and great physical strength.
Historical records serve to show that no race of men so built ever
has been particularly famous for finished horsemanship. For a man to
be a finished horseman need not necessarily possess great physical
strength, and the man of heavy build almost invariably finds himself
at a disadvantage when on horseback by comparison with the man of
spare frame, small bone and “flat” thighs. Though this is something of
a truism, several of our early historians apparently forgot it.
A study of the world's history makes it clear that the tribes, races
and nations especially renowned for their horsemanship have been
composed for the most part of men of small stature.
CHAPTER IV
North America without horses when Columbus landed—Scarcity of
horses at the Conquest of Mexico—Francisco Pizarro; his cavaliers
terrify the Indians—Emperor Charles V. sends horses to King
Edward VI.—David Hume, “a man remarkable for piety, probity,
candour and integrity”; his practices in connection with horse
racing—Queen Elizabeth fond of racing; condition of the Turf
during her reign—Stallions fed on eggs and oysters—Lord Herbert
of Cherbury's antagonistic attitude towards the Turf—Some horses
in Shakespeare's plays—Performing horse and its owner publicly
burnt to death—Horses trained by cruelty
The continent whose history and progress have been the least
influenced by horses probably is Northern America, for it seems beyond
doubt that when Columbus discovered it horses were unknown there.
How then did they come to be there in such immense herds in later
years?
This question has been asked many times, and the reply generally is
that the horses subsequently introduced there by the Spaniards must
have bred with great rapidity.
Other solutions to the problem that have been put forward are hardly
worth considering seriously. So enormous did these herds become,
however, that down to half-a-century or so ago horses in their
thousands ran wild over the vast prairies of the western states. At
the present day such herds are practically extinct.
We read that when, in 1519, the renowned Hernando Cortes set out from
Cuba to conquer the empire of Montezuma, he took with him “sixteen
strong and picked horses.” Bernal Diaz, who was Cortes' comrade,
apparently was greatly devoted to horses, and in his famous account
of the Conquest of Mexico he describes in detail each of these
sixteen animals, and mentions in rather a quaint way the principal
characteristic that each possessed.
Seeing that Cortes' force consisted of some 660 trained men and about
200 Indians, the sixteen horses of course in no way approached the
number he would have liked to take, and the reason he took so few is
made clear by Diaz when he tells us that owing to the smallness of
the ships of that period and the limited amount of accommodation that
could be found on board them, even in proportion to their size, the
difficulty of transport was very great.
It was, indeed, owing chiefly to the difficulty of transporting horses
to Cuba and Hispaniola from Spain that the prices demanded even for
horses of inconsiderable value were so exorbitant. Even it seems
possible that this scarcity of horses directly led to a campaign
that was expected to last for only a few months being prolonged to
approximately two years; for though Cortes set sail with his little
army in February, 1519, the subjugation of Mexico was not completed
until nearly two years had elapsed.
There seems to be no doubt but that the redoubtable Francisco Pizarro,
who afterwards conquered so effectually the kingdom of the Incas, was
in Hispaniola as early as the year 1510, and he may have been there
even before that date. When, in 1524, he began to move southward from
Panama on his famous expedition, he travelled without horses, and the
attempt to reach the realm of gold proved futile.
His second expedition, however, was more successful, but then he had
with him a number of horses that he had taken the precaution to buy
before leaving Panama, and the expedition numbered, all told, about
160 men. The horses would appear to have been of the roughest, and
some of them in poor condition, yet Pizarro positively refused to give
leave for any of them to be destroyed, having apparently taken to
heart the lesson he had received from the reverse which had overtaken
him on his previous expedition when he was without horses.
It is probable, however, that even Pizarro was not prepared for the
extraordinary part that was presently to be played by those very
animals that he had with him.
For before he had advanced very far it became apparent to him that
the native Indians had never in their lives before set eyes upon a
horse, and thus it happened that when presently they beheld Pizarro's
advancing cavaliers, their attitude, which until then had been both
threatening and defensive, became almost immediately changed to one of
terror.
Pizarro was at first amazed at this. Then as the Indians suddenly and
of one accord turned and fled, uttering, as we are told, “strange and
shrill cries,” the truth flashed in upon him—his mounted men had been
mistaken by them for some kind of weird creature, possibly something
in the nature of a centaur!
As one writer says, “consternation seized the Indians when they saw
a cavalier fall from his horse, for they were not prepared for the
division into two parts of a creature that had seemed to them to be
but a single being.”
In a letter addressed to Henry Bullinger by Bishop Hooper there is a
statement to the effect that “two most beautiful Spanish horses” were
received by Edward VI. from the emperor, Charles V., on 26th March,
1550, and that the king expressed his delight at the gift by giving
way to “extravagant conduct.”
The incident is of interest because poor young Edward VI. was not
supposed to be fond of horses. Yet Camden, the famous antiquary, who
lived between 1551 and 1623 and was in a position that should have
enabled him to speak with authority, gives it as his opinion that the
lad took interest in horses of all kinds.
Hargrove, in his “History and Description of the ancient City of
York,” maintains that the origin of horse racing can be traced back
“even to the time of the Romans,” a statement apt to prove misleading
if we take it quite literally.
That horse racing of a sort can be traced back to a very remote period
has already been indicated, but, as we have also seen, almost the only
kind of racing in which the Romans took keen interest was chariot
racing, so there is reason to believe that some of the early allusions
to chariot races may unwittingly have been confused with horse races
by some of our later historians.
In a letter that appeared recently in a newspaper published in
Ireland, and that dealt at length with the supposed origin of horse
racing, the writer remarked with unconscious humour that “undoubtedly
the first races in England were held in Scotland.”
In this belief he was, of course, mistaken, though it is known that
the Scottish people have from very early times been fond of horse
racing, and that the great race meeting held in Haddington in 1552
attracted an enormous concourse of spectators from the Highlands and
Lowlands alike.
Later the Haddington race meeting came to be held annually, the
principal prize run for being “a silver bell of value.”
Rather an eccentric individual, named David Hume, was connected with
the Turf in Scotland about the middle of the sixteenth century. He
appears, indeed, to have been quite an interesting personality. A
resident of Wedderburn, where he died in or about the year 1575—the
early writers, while admitting that when he died he must have been
fully fifty years of age, yet disagree as to the exact date of his
death—he is especially worthy of mention because probably he was
typical of a particular stamp of man that during the latter half of
the sixteenth century was in a great measure responsible for the
development of the race horse.
Presumably David Hume owned property, for he is spoken of as “a
gentleman of good status in Berwickshire,” and in later years his son,
known as David Hume of Godscroft, wrote a book which became famous in
Scottish literature, the “History of the House of Douglas.”
The elder Hume is described as “a man remarkable for piety, probity,
candour and integrity.” How ironical that description unconsciously
was we shall see in a moment. The son, we are told, “seldom missed
an opportunity of speaking in still more laudatory terms of his
father,” but Mr J. P. Hore's opinion is to the effect that if some
such institution as the modern Jockey Club had been in existence when
Hume the elder was in his heyday, that gentleman would, in spite of
his alleged probity, integrity, and so forth, have been warned off the
Turf at short notice.
For we read that “so great a master in the art of riding was he that
he would often be beat to-day and within eight days lay a double
wager on the same horses and come off conqueror” (_sic_). No doubt
this paragon of honour has many emulators on the Turf to-day, but the
relatives and friends of the latter at least have not the effrontery
to tell us that such men are “strictly just, utterly detesting all
manner of fraud,” the statement made again and again about the elder
Hume by his kinsfolk.
Elsewhere we learn that sometimes he ran two horses in one race and
that upon occasions he was able to hoodwink the spectators assembled
into believing that a horse had tried hard to win when in reality it
had barely extended itself.
Hume himself would talk openly to his friends about the races he meant
to win, and apparently he seldom attempted to conceal the fact that
some of his horses were meant to lose.
Possibly this very “ingenuousness” may have led some of his friends,
and a proportion of what we should to-day call the general public, to
believe that he acted honourably and always in good faith.
In justice let it be said, however, that he bred good stock,
also that he was a better judge of a horse than the bulk of his
contemporaries—though that is not high praise. While himself engaged
in roguery in connection with racing he was all the time striving to
purify the Turf. He would, in all probability, have amassed a large
fortune—or what was deemed in those days to be a large fortune—had
he been less addicted to gambling for gambling's sake, for it is
certain that from first to last he won much money by laying against
his own horses as well as by backing some of them. The more amazing,
therefore, is it that certain writers, even in comparatively recent
times, should speak of him in all seriousness as a man of remarkable
integrity.
Queen Elizabeth loved the Turf and apparently was extremely fond
of horses, while in her youth she must have been rather a fine
horsewoman. She kept many riding horses for her own use and many
more for the ladies of her court, and we know that she was extremely
partial to chestnut animals.
There is not, I think, any trustworthy evidence that she ever attended
a race meeting held at Newmarket, but the statement made in at least
one history of her period that she witnessed races at Doncaster
probably is accurate, for we have proofs that a racecourse had been
laid down there or marked out by the year 1600. Also we know that
Elizabeth was fond of gambling and that she squandered vast sums
probably in connection with the turf.
It must be remembered, however, that in the second half of the
sixteenth century gambling was a besetting vice. “In the reign of
Queen Elizabeth,” Mr Clarkson writes, “racing was carried on to such
an excess as to injure the fortunes of many individuals, private
matches being then made between gentlemen, who were generally their
own jockeys and tryers.”
The descriptions of some of these matches are almost as quaint as the
account already given of the race between Blanche Rose and Nicolle
Dex, for the majority of the riders were wont to have recourse to the
worst sort of trickery when they believed it might enable them to win.
Thus an instance is recorded of ground glass being mixed with a mare's
food, the ill-starred animal being in consequence hardly able to cover
the course, on which she died in great agony when the race was over.
This statement is made without comment, and cases somewhat similar are
cited which, if they occurred now, would fire our indignation and lead
swiftly to retribution.
From this we may to some extent infer that the morality of the Turf in
Queen Elizabeth's reign had sunk to a low ebb. Indeed the maxim the
majority of the “tryers,” even of the “gentleman tryers,” apparently
was—“Win honestly if possible—but win.”
In Elizabeth's reign it was not customary to run important races for
cups. Nearly all the “big” races were for “specie,” or else for a
silver bell—sometimes for both. Silver bells awarded as prizes over
three hundred years ago are, it is said, still to be seen in some old
country houses and in some museums, but though I have tried I have not
been able to discover the whereabouts of any of them.
In 1603 the Earl of Essex offered a snaffle made of gold as a prize
to be run for at a race meeting held near Salisbury, and at about the
same time it was proposed that “race gatherings” should take place
near Salisbury at fixed intervals.
The latter suggestion, though strongly resented by “a number of
Salisbury gentlemen” who presumably were under the impression that
to establish a race course near their town must necessarily prove
demoralising to the townsmen, was eventually adopted, the queen
having, so it was said, brought her influence to bear in favour of the
proposal.
We may approximately estimate the value of horses of a particular
stamp at about this time from an inventory that was drawn up in 1572
of the effects of the second Earl of Cumberland of Skipton Castle.
Therein we find a stoned horse called Young Mark Antony valued at
£16; another horse, Grey Clyfford, at £11: Whyte Dacre, at £10;
Sorrell Tempest, £4; White Tempest and Baye Tempest, each at £5; Baye
Myddleton, £1, and so on. Some mares and their followers are also
mentioned, and lastly ten cart horses.
Many fictitious stories have been woven around Suleiman, the favourite
charger of the Earl of Essex, but they are not of sufficient interest
to place on record. In Elizabeth's reign a number of barbs, also many
Spanish horses descended from barbs, were obtained from captured
foreign vessels, and these the queen looked upon for the most part as
her personal perquisites.
Consequently about the middle of her reign an order was issued
that all captured horses must without exception be sent direct to
the queen, the infliction of a severe penalty being threatened if
the order should be disregarded. A number of these animals were
subsequently sent as gifts to the more faithful of her nobles, and all
the recipients sent in return “expressions of extremest gratitude.”
There is a diversity of opinion as to what constituted “the staple
article of food” of horses in the sixteenth century, though of course
hay was used largely. Bishop Hall throws some light upon the subject
when he mentions that thoroughbred stallions when largely in demand
were given eggs and oysters.
Reference to eggs and oysters in this connection is made elsewhere, so
we may conclude that the custom of thus feeding stallions was not an
uncommon one, at any rate in the time of Elizabeth.
Horse bread has already been mentioned, but I have not come upon any
direct allusion to oats being used to feed horses upon at this period.
Several of the writers in Elizabeth's reign openly bemoaned the
development of horse racing, urging that trouble and disaster followed
in its train, but their moans were for the most part stifled in the
clamour of general approbation.
Among those who spoke strongly in condemnation of horse racing was the
rather eccentric Lord Herbert of Cherbury. Late in life he wrote—to
the amusement of his friends and relatives—a complete history of his
own career, in which volume he again reverts to his pet aversion by
declaring that among the exercises of which he disapproved were “the
riding of running horses, there being much cheating in that kind.”
Hunting also he clearly objected to, for he goes on to tell his
readers that he does not like hunting horses, “that exercise taking up
more time than can be spared for a man studious to get knowledge.”
From other of his remarks it becomes obvious that some three centuries
ago the men who devoted the better part of their lives to the sport
of hunting became to such a degree engrossed in it that in time they
could hardly be brought to talk, or indeed to think, of anything else
whatever.
That the same can be said with truth of a proportion of our modern
hunting men is well known, and the question is asked to-day, as
it was asked three hundred or more years ago—How comes it that
over-indulgence in the chase has this odd effect upon us, whereas
over-indulgence in other forms of sport but seldom makes its votaries
shallow-minded to the same degree?
Indeed Lord Herbert of Cherbury, eccentric as he admittedly was, made
many sensible observations upon this and kindred topics; and there can
be no doubt that in decrying the then increasing tendency of men and
women of what were looked upon as the educated classes to squander
their fortunes, he voiced the views held by a vast proportion of the
thinking population of this country.
A contemporary of Lord Herbert's wrote practically to the same effect.
His name was Burton, and he reached his heyday about the time that
Shakespeare's era was drawing to a close. The diatribe he launched
against the increasing spread of gambling upon the Turf has probably
never been surpassed in vigour.
In one of his mildest passages he pronounces horse races to be “the
disport of great men, and good in themselves, though many gentlemen by
such means gallop quite out of their fortunes.”
Shakespeare himself, though rather fond of horses, was hardly less
opposed to the practice of heavy betting. His description of a
thoroughbred's points is good:
“Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostrils wide,
High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong,
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide.”
It would take long, also it is unnecessary, to describe at length
all the horses of which Shakespeare speaks in his plays. According
to a recent writer, Oliver's steed, Ferrant d'Espagne, or “Spanish
traveller,” has been “bastardised.” What the writer means is, I think,
that the horse has been introduced into works of fiction without
acknowledgment.
Such certainly is the case, and so greatly has the animal been
distorted in some instances that only with difficulty is it
recognisable.
In Shakespeare's time—that is to say during the latter half of the
sixteenth and in the beginning of the seventeenth centuries—the
barbary horse clearly was highly esteemed, for it is referred to
frequently in books and memoirs which bear upon that period.
Shakespeare speaks several times of roan horses too, as for instance
in _I Henry IV._, where we come upon the sentence, “Give the roan
horse a drench.” To bay horses he makes allusion in _King Lear_, in
_Timon_, and elsewhere, and in _Timon_ he refers also to a team of
white horses. These bare allusions make dry reading, but they are
instructive and of interest in connection with the story of the part
the horse played in British history.
More especially is this so when we again bear in mind what has already
been stated at length in the introductory note to this book, and that
is the enormous extent to which automobilism has increased in this
country, and for that matter the world over, since the introduction of
the petrol motor, which makes it obvious that the horse's reign must
be fast drawing to a close.
* * * * *
That we have, as a nation, already to a great extent lost much of
the interest we took only a few years ago in horses, and in all that
appertains to them, is, I think, beyond dispute. The number of men
who keep what must be termed “pleasure” horses decreases year by
year, almost month by month, and indeed it would be possible to name
at off-hand between fifty and sixty well-known men and women fond of
sport who, within the last six months or so, have sold their carriages
and all their harness horses, and whose stables now contain only
hunters, while in other cases even the hunters have been got rid of in
order to make way for automobiles.
And yet, bemoan the change though we may, the gradual transition is
not uninteresting to study. History in the past has for centuries been
both directly and indirectly affected by the horses and horsemanship
of the various races the world over. History in the future is going to
be similarly affected by motor power applied in a variety of ways.
And yet, who knows? Perhaps even half-a-century hence, when the horse
will to all intents be extinct in England, save where he is kept for
racing and in some instances for hunting purposes, interest may still
be taken in Shakespeare's plays and therefore in the stories of such
whimsical characters as the self-satisfied, conceited and generally
grotesque Sir Andrew Aguecheek and his celebrated grey steed, Capilet,
that we find portrayed so admirably in _Twelfth Night_; in Lord Lafeu
of _All's Well that Ends Well_ and his curious bay horse, Curtal, a
name that means literally “the cropped one”; and in Cut, the carrier's
horse of _King Henry IV._,—to name but a few of Shakespeare's
creations that surely must live on for ever.
With regard to barb horses, of which so much has been said and
written, the probability would seem to be that “barbed” is in reality
a corrupt form of the word “barded” that came originally from the
French, _bardé_—that is to say, caparisoned—and therefore it may
signify indirectly a horse in armour. Hence the meaning probably
intended by Shakespeare to be conveyed in the following lines in _King
Richard III._:—
“And now—instead of mounting barbed steeds,
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,—
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.”
Shakespeare and Bishop Hall, in addition to one or two other writers,
speak of the horse, Marocco, which lived in Elizabeth's reign, and
belonged to a man named Banks, or Bankes, a brother of the first
keeper of the New Warren.
Foaled, so far as one can gather, at Newmarket, Marocco appears to
have been one of the cleverest of the few horses that at that period
had been trained to perform at fairs, and in shows and circuses.
Some of the feats performed by it are described at length in the old
records, and though we read that in those days such feats were deemed
“marvellous past belief,” we should smile if anybody were to-day to
express amazement at seeing a circus horse perform tricks so simple.
That Marocco should be able to walk upright upon his hind legs, for
instance, was considered so astounding that questions were asked in
all seriousness as to whether supernatural aid of some kind had not
been invoked!
In addition to this, Marocco would rear, kneel, sit, or lie down,
when told to do so, and he would indicate amongst the spectators any
individual selected by his trainer.
What was deemed most remarkable of all, however, was a performance in
which Marocco walked backwards, “the while turning in circles,” when
Banks ordered him to do so.
We are told that upon witnessing this performance a proportion of the
audience was so deeply affected that several people dared not remain.
Consequently one is less surprised at reading that when, later, Banks
and his pupil gave a performance in Rome, both man and horse were
pronounced to be in league with the devil and ordered to be publicly
burnt as magicians, which monstrous sentence was duly carried out.
In justice let it be said that this act of barbarity—the direct
outcome of the pitiable ignorance of the age—created intense
indignation in England, while in Italy it stirred up a strong feeling
of resentment.
Attempts were made later to create the impression that political
wirepullers had been at work, and that man and horse had been
sacrificed expressly to make bad blood between the British Court and
the Vatican, if not between England and Italy, but there is no reason
for believing that the agitators achieved their purpose.
Nor, indeed, is it certain that Banks' death sentence was pronounced
by the Pope, or by his order. That the man had come to be looked upon
as a magician, however, in every part of Italy where his horse had
been exhibited, apparently is beyond dispute.
Though strolling players of many sorts were, as we know, plentiful in
Elizabeth's reign, it seems more than likely that the exhibition given
by Marocco may directly have inaugurated in England the practice of
training animals to perform tricks of the same sort for public shows.
Certainly we hear soon after Marocco's tragic end that exhibitions of
performing animals were advertised to take place in different parts
of the country, and from that time onward incidental allusions to
entertainments of the kind that we to-day call circuses are to be
found in some of the old books.
There mention is made of the methods employed in order to train the
animals to their owners' satisfaction, methods barbarous enough, in
all conscience. Yet none took exception to them. For the tendency
of the age, three centuries ago, and down probably to a much later
period, was one of cruelty. The literature of the last three hundred
years makes that but too apparent.
CHAPTER V
King Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth passionately fond of
hunting—John Selwyn's remarkable feat in the hunting field;
the monument at Walton-on-Thames—Don Quixote and his steed,
Rosinante; Peter of Provence's wooden horse, Babieca; Clavileno
and the Cid's horse—Mary Queen of Scots' favourite horses—Queen
Elizabeth's retinue of 2400 horses—Arundel, Aquiline,
Brigadore—The horses of Anatolia and Syria—Sir Robert Carey's
historic ride from London to Edinburgh in sixty hours—The horses
of Napoleon I.
So far as hunting was concerned, Henry VIII. was, as we know, a keen
sportsman, and Queen Elizabeth would appear to have been almost an
equally enthusiastic sportsman. Passionately devoted to the chase,
nothing gave her greater pleasure than to see “the quarry broken up
before her.” Statements to this effect are to be found in the works of
three trustworthy writers at least, so we may take it that the records
are approximately accurate. The queen “loved to be on horseback for
its own sake,” and was fond of open air at all times.
It is in connection with Elizabeth's partiality for the chase that the
story is told of a man named John Selwyn, for many years under keeper
of the park at Oaklands, in Surrey, where some of the queen's hunters
were usually stabled during the autumn and winter.
Selwyn must in several ways have been a remarkable character, but
it is with his horsemanship only that we have here to deal. On the
occasion, then, of a great stag hunt which the queen had arranged
should take place in the park at Oaklands, Selwyn was “chief in
attendance”—in other words, huntsman.
Suddenly, as we are told, a stag was started.
When it had been hunted only a short time, a fear was expressed by the
queen that it would escape, “the animal having proved of such unusual
swiftness that it was feared the hounds would not be able to overtake
it.”
Determined that this should not happen, “Selwyn pressed spurs to his
horse, and galloping at an angle, and sideways,” succeeded in coming
alongside the stag as it was about to turn off abruptly.
At once the enthusiasm and excitement of the spectators, especially
of the queen, became intense; nor did it abate when they saw Selwyn,
still galloping at top speed, neck and neck with the stag, suddenly
vault right off his horse's back on to the stag's, “where he kept his
seat gracefully in spite of every effort of the affrighted beast to
throw him off.”
Thus he galloped on for some yards, the queen and all the spectators
wondering what he would do next. They were not kept long in suspense.
Of a sudden Selwyn swiftly but calmly drew out his hunting knife.
Then he began to prod the animal with its point, first on one side of
its neck, then on the other, until at last he succeeded in forcing the
stag to gallop round to a point within a few yards of the very spot
where the queen sat waiting.
At last, when the animal was very near the queen, its rider suddenly
plunged his knife deep into its throat, “so that the blood spurted out
and the beast fell dead just by her feet.”
This display is said to have delighted the queen so greatly that she
soon afterwards granted Selwyn several favours, and on the monument
still to be seen at Walton-on-Thames he is portrayed in the act of
stabbing, in the manner described, the stag slaughtered on that
memorable occasion. Selwyn died on 27th March, 1587.
* * * * *
Of the famous horses of fiction and romance in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, one or two more must be mentioned. Don
Quixote's immortal squire, Sancho Panza, who, it will be remembered,
rode upon an ass named Dapple, was Governor of Barataria.
Though endowed with common sense, and though his proverbs have
become historical, he was wholly devoid of what is sometimes called
“spirituality.”
Nevertheless Don Quixote and his horse, Rosinante—a name that means
literally “formerly a hack”—came gradually to be renowned the world
over.
To this day, indeed, “a perfect Rosinante” is the comment not
infrequently passed upon a horse that is mostly skin and bone.
Peter of Provence's wooden horse, Babieca, is another “creature” whose
name must not be omitted.
“This very day,” we read in Don Quixote, “may be seen in the King's
armoury the identical peg with which Peter of Provence turned his
wooden horse which carried him through the air. It is rather bigger
than the pole of a coach, and stands near Babieca's saddle.”
Don Quixote himself rode astride the wooden horse, Clavileno, on the
occasion when he wished to disenchant the Infanta Antonomasia and her
husband shut up in the tomb of Queen Maguncia, of Candaya, and Peter
of Provence rode it when he made off with beautiful Magalona.
Merlin was the name of its maker, and the horse was so constructed
that it could be governed by turning a wooden peg in its forehead.
The name means “wooden peg.” A comprehensive description of these
incidents may be found in the fourth and fifth chapters of the third
book of “Don Quixote,” but the description is not of sufficient
interest to be quoted here.
The story of the Cid's horse, to date back to an earlier century, is
almost as well known as the story of Rosinante. The Cid's horse died
some two and a half years after its master's death, and during the
whole of that period none rode it, the order having gone forth that
under no circumstances was anybody to mount the animal. At its death
its body was buried near the gate of the monastery at Valencia, two
trees being planted close to the grave to mark its whereabouts.
According to the popular legend, the horse acquired its name through
Rodrigo's having, when told in his youth that he might select a horse,
chosen an almost valueless colt. His godfather, annoyed at this
display of ignorance, at once nicknamed the lad “the dolt,” which
nickname Rodrigo presently conferred upon the horse itself. Literally,
however, “Cid” is Arabic for “lord.”
* * * * *
Among the few traits in the character of Mary Queen of Scots that have
not formed subjects for controversy among the many biographers of that
ill-starred sovereign, her undoubted fondness for animals stands out
prominently.
From first to last I have read many biographies of Mary Queen of
Scots, and it is remarkable that no two coincide consistently in
their statements, from which we are forced to the conclusion that the
majority of such works have been produced by writers who either were
bigoted or deeply prejudiced, or else who had some private axe to
grind.
With regard to Mary's horses, her two chief favourites would appear to
have been Rosabelle—the animal at one time worshipped by a proportion
of the body of minor poets!—and Agnes, called after Agnes of Dunbar, a
countess in her own right. This palfrey—almost all the horses of the
period of Mary Queen of Scots are spoken of as “palfreys”—apparently
came as a gift from her brother, Moray, and though it does not appear
to have been a steed of exceptional quality she was extraordinarily
fond of it. We find it referred to occasionally as Black Agnes.
Then, though all the evidence obtainable tends to convey the
impression that Mary Queen of Scots must have been a clever
horsewoman, she does not appear to have been very fond of hunting, in
consequence of which two at least of her biographers go so far as to
hint that her alleged distaste for the chase tended in a measure to
increase Elizabeth's hostility towards her.
From what early historians tell us, Mary probably looked far better on
a horse than Elizabeth ever did—the slimness alone of Mary's figure by
contrast with Elizabeth's may have been in a measure responsible for
this—and the knowledge must have vexed Elizabeth, who took particular
pride in her riding and was desirous above many other things to be
deemed a finished horsewoman. How vast a number of horses must have
been owned by the nobles and by other persons of wealth who dwelt
scattered over the whole of England may be gathered from the statement
of Ralph Holinshed that Queen Elizabeth alone required, when she
travelled, some 2400 animals, almost all of which had to be provided
by residents in the districts in which she moved.
The majority of these horses were employed to drag the great carts
which contained the queen's baggage, yet we are told that “the ancient
use of somers and sumpter horses” having been “utterly relinquished,
causeth the trains of our princes in their progresses to show far less
than those of the kings of other nations.”
Naturally it must be borne in mind that the weight of the baggage of
persons of rank in the sixteenth century was excessive, especially
when it was added to the weight of the clumsy carts that were used for
the conveyance of such baggage, so that four, six and even more horses
were often enough harnessed to a single cart when it was fully loaded.
Then, too, the roads were for the most part in so bad a state of
repair—many of them could not, properly speaking, be called roads at
all—that frequent changes of horses were necessary.
* * * * *
In Drayton's well-known “Polyolbion” we have a horse that is very
famous in romance. Arundel by name—a name that is said to have been
originally a corruption of the French word, _hirondelle_—it was
“swifter than the swiftest swallow.” This horse belonged to Bevis of
Southampton, “the remarkable knight,” and apparently it had as many
good points as any animal can possess. In the sixteenth century almost
every horse of note actually living, or in romance, took its name from
one or other of its chief characteristics. Thus in Tasso's “Jerusalem
Delivered” we find Raymond's steed, Aquiline, that was bred on the
banks of the Tagus, particularly remarkable for what we should to-day
call a Roman nose.
Aquiline figures largely in “Jerusalem Delivered,” and Raymond, who
was Count of Toulouse and commander of some 4000 infantry, and who,
in addition, was remarkable for his wisdom and coolness in debate, is
shown to have owed a measure of his success to Aquiline's phenomenal
sagacity. Indeed Aquiline probably saved him from destruction upon
more than one occasion.
We come upon other horses in several portions of “Jerusalem
Delivered,” especially in connection with the slaying by Raymond
of Aladine, the cruel old king. The stirring description of this
incident, and of the planting of the Christian standard upon the tower
of David by Raymond, is to be found in the twentieth book; but as we
know that the Holy Land was being ruled by the Caliph of Egypt at the
very time Raymond is supposed to have been attacking King Aladine, it
at once becomes obvious that the narrative must have been fictitious.
* * * * *
“The Faerie Queene” is another classic in which we find interesting
allusions to horses, mostly the horses of romance.
One of the best known of these animals is Brigadore, called sometimes
Brigliadore, which belonged to Sir Guyon, and was remarkable for a
black mark in its mouth, in shape like a horseshoe.
Sir Guyon, who impersonated Temperance or Self-Government, was the
companion of Prudence, and he alludes several times to Brigadore. His
fame, as most scholars will remember, rests in a great measure upon
his destruction of the enchantress, Acrasia, in the bower called the
Bower of Bliss, which was situated in the Wandering Island.
The name Acrasia means self-indulgence, and this witch was
particularly dreaded because of her partiality for transforming her
lovers into monstrous shapes and then keeping them captive.
The story of Sir Guyon's stealthy approach while Acrasia lay
unsuspectingly in her bower, and of the way in which he succeeded in
throwing a net over her, subsequently in binding her firmly in chains
of adamant, then in breaking down “her accursed bower” and burning it
to ashes, is too well known to need description here, and of course it
has no direct bearing upon Brigadore.
So far as we can judge, the horses of Anatolia and Syria must have
been well known in Europe by about the middle of the sixteenth
century, though one or two writers aver that they did not come over
until later.
An artist who died about the year 1603, and whose name was Stradamus,
produced, not long before his death, a series of drawings, and a set
of these was subsequently issued under the title, “Equile Johannis
Ducis Austriaci,” which means, “The Stable of Don John of Austria.”
It is interesting to note in this connection that practically all the
horses and mares imported between the year 1660 and the year 1685 came
from Smyrna, though the renowned Darley Arabian and several more came
from Aleppo.
This is of particular importance in relation to the records of the
horse in England's history, for there can be no doubt that a great
part of our thoroughbred racing stock is descended from these very
early importations.
* * * * *
That remarkable feats of horsemanship were performed in the reign
of Elizabeth is beyond dispute, but unfortunately the particulars
obtainable are extremely meagre.
Of Sir Robert Carey's historic ride upon the death of the queen,
details worth recording are given. No sooner had the queen breathed
her last, we are told, than Sir Robert Carey, notorious sycophant that
he was, who for days and nights had been loitering about the queen's
bed-chamber and displaying the keenest anxiety as to her condition,
set off on horseback to convey to the heir, King James, the news of
her death.
“So great was his desire to bring the news to King James before that
monarch had heard it from any other source,” we read, “that with the
lamentations of the dead queen's women still ringing in his ears
he left the bedside of his kinswoman and benefactress and started
to announce the important tidings to King James, an act quite as
indelicate as it was wholly unauthorised.”
Sir Robert's indelicacy, or alleged indelicacy, however, is no
concern of ours. As a feat of endurance, his ride was truly an
extraordinary one, for he actually galloped the whole distance from
London to Edinburgh, about 400 miles, in less than sixty hours, though
during the journey he had at least one severe fall.
How many horses he rode I have not been able to ascertain, but that
he had made in advance full preparations for this journey is more
than likely, as it is beyond dispute that he had covered the first
160 miles by nightfall on the day after he started. The exact time at
which he set out we are not told.
What made the feat more wonderful still was the condition of nearly
all the roads in England during Elizabeth's reign, with the exception
of the Roman roads and a few besides, some north of Doncaster being
really little more than tracks.
That Sir Robert Carey was well repaid for his enterprise may be
gathered from the statement that King James I. “rewarded him for being
the first to bring him the glad news, by granting him signal favours.”
* * * * *
From about this period onward the horse may be said to have entered
upon the third phase of its career in the history of all nations, but
more especially in the history of our own nation. For, as we have
seen, from very early times down to the period of the Norman Conquest
the nations that had not horses had almost without exception been
forced to take a secondary place in the world's progress.
From the period of the Norman Conquest down to the beginning of the
accession of the House of Stuart—indeed, as we shall see presently,
almost down to the period of the Commonwealth—the improvement and
development of the horse as an “arm” in warfare had gone practically
hand in hand with the improvement in the training of men to fight in
battle. And from then onward, that is to say from the beginning of the
period of the Stuarts and the Commonwealth, down to the present day,
the horse has been connected with history in the capacity of charger
or war horse, hunter or pleasure horse, and thoroughbred or race horse.
Let me state at once, then, that it is not my intention to describe
at length, or even to mention by name, all the more or less famous,
horses that have been owned by the more prominent or distinguished men
at any time within the last three hundred years, for such a collection
of names, or of descriptions, would not be likely to prove of interest
to the modern reader. In addition comparatively few of the records
concerning these animals bear the impress of truth.
As we come to the close of the nineteenth and the opening of the
twentieth centuries historical records increase enormously in volume,
so that now we find ourselves confronted by a mass of reports, many
of which bear directly upon horses that are of no interest whatever,
though they may have belonged to famous men whose names are still
household words.
Thus in a single history of Napoleon I. we find two pages of
descriptive matter to do with a horse of his called Wagram; two pages
about Cyrus, another of his horses; a page about his horse named Emir;
half-a-page about his Coco; three pages about Gongalve; two about
Coquet; three about Tausis, and so on all the way through, while
everything that is said about them could quite easily be condensed
into three or four short sentences.
Indeed the biographers of the majority of our great military leaders
have deemed it necessary to write long and verbose descriptions of the
animals that were owned by these historical celebrities, apparently
for no other reason than that they did belong to celebrities.
When all is said, it is difficult to imagine how or whence they can
have obtained such circumstantial information. Granting, however, the
truth of all the statements—and one cannot say definitely that any
one of them is not true in every detail—was it worth while to tell us
that Piers Gaveston owned a grey, or that Blucher remarked upon some
uninteresting occasion that he had a horse that used to jib?
Yet trivial points of this sort are to be found mentioned in plenty of
the so-called popular biographies of our great men.
Of more interest it would have been had the biographers succeeded in
discovering, and then told us, what sort of bits Napoleon liked to
ride his chargers in, and his reason or reasons for preferring them,
or whether Blucher ever tried his grey in blinkers. Then the horses
described at such weary length might possibly have taught us a lesson
or two worth learning.
PART III
FROM THE STUART PERIOD TO THE PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER I
Arrival of the Markham Arabian, the first Arab imported into
England—Newmarket village founded by James I.—Decline of the
“great horse”—The Royal Studs—James I. organises a race meeting
on the frozen River Ouse—Superstitious beliefs concerning
horses—James I. meets with a grotesque riding mishap—Prosperity
of the Turf—Riding match between Lord Haddington and Lord
Sheffield—The Turf vigorously denounced as “an evil likely to
imperil the whole country's prosperity”
“King James I.'s love of racing,” writes a trustworthy chronicler of
the movements at the court of James I. and Charles I. “was due to the
importation into England of the first Arab horse ever seen here.”
That simple statement records one of the most important incidents
that has occurred in the development of the horse in this country, an
incident that subsequently proved to be of great moment in connection
with the history of Great Britain. For though the assertion has many
times been controverted, careful research proves beyond doubt that
until the arrival in England of the Markham Arabian—which in after
generations was to become so greatly renowned—no Arab of any sort had
been brought into this country.
[Illustration: STATUE OF COLLEONI BY VERROCCHIO IN VENICE]
The stories that have been told of this, the first of the famous
Eastern sires, are numerous, and, as is usual in such cases, the
majority of them are apparently untrue.
One of the most widely circulated of the misstatements was to the
effect that the price paid by King James to Mr Markham for this
particular Arab sire was not less than £500, and in papers and books
almost innumerable, in which the Markham Arabian is mentioned, this
false statement is repeated.
That it is false beyond dispute is proved by the actual entry of the
purchase that may be seen to this day in the Exchequer or Receipt
Order Books in the Public Record Office. The entry runs as follows:—
“Item the 20th of December, 1616, paid to Master Markham for the
Arabian Horse for His Majesty's own use, £154, 0. 0.”
It is almost inconceivable that anyone can seriously have believed
that £500, or any sum approaching it, could have been paid for this
sire, for at that period no sum approaching £500 ever was paid for any
horse, the purchasing value of money being until after the reign of
James I. so much in excess of its purchasing value some two centuries
later.
That several thoroughbred Eastern sires were bought by James is well
known, among the last to which reference is made by the historians
being the famous Villiers Arabs, which the king does not appear to
have acquired until towards the end of his reign.
Yet in spite of all that has been said and written about John
Markham's stallion, the horse was not, according to that excellent
judge of horses, the Duke of Newcastle, the class of animal that any
man would have chosen to breed from for looks, for, in the duke's own
words, “He [the Markham Arabian] was a bay, but a little horse, and no
rarity for shape; for I have seen many English horses far finer....
Mr Markham sold him to the King for five hundred pounds (_sic_), and
being trained up for a course, when he came to run, every horse beat
him.”
I believe I am right in saying that the identity of John Markham has
never been positively traced, also that the consensus of opinion
inclines to the belief that he was the father of the famous author,
Gervase Markham, who for many years held the post of keeper of
Clipston Shraggs Walk, in Sherwood Forest.
Among the works of Gervase Markham is a volume entitled “Cavalarice,
or the English Horseman,” in which many grotesque and unintentionally
humorous passages are to be found.
Each of the eight books which together go to make up this work is
dedicated to some distinguished personage, of whom James I. is one,
and Henry, Prince of Wales, another.
To James I. we are probably indebted for the existence of the town
of Newmarket, for it is certain that he not only inaugurated the
construction of the village, but in addition brought his influence to
bear upon its development, and that he greatly helped to stimulate the
interest which the people of Newmarket and the neighbourhood already
took in the breeding and training of running horses. It may be partly
for this reason that Newmarket is still so often spoken of as “the
royal village.”
Notwithstanding the disappointment the Markham Arabian must have
afforded James I., we read that the king offered a silver bell of
considerable value to be run for at Newmarket, that the entries
for the race were numerous, and that “the event gave rise to much
speculation, wagering and public interest.”
It was, indeed, in this connection that Ben Jonson wrote so
caustically, or rather satirically, in his famous “Alchemist,” and
alluded incidentally to “the rules to cheat at horse races.”
Elsewhere Jonson describes, and mentions by name, some of the race
horses that probably were well known on the Turf at about that period.
Seeing how keen the interest was that James I. took almost from
boyhood in all that related to the Turf, and to the breeding of race
horses, we can hardly be surprised to hear that during his reign the
general interest in the breeding of “great horses,” which had been so
marked a feature of Henry VIII.'s reign, also of Elizabeth's reign, at
one time threatened to die out.
Robert Reyce speaks of this in his “Breviary of Suffolk,” a book which
he dedicated to Sir Robert Crane, of Chiltern, and elsewhere allusions
are to be found to the decay of interest in the breeding of “great
horses.”
Indeed James appears to have admitted quite openly that the bare
sight of the animals bored him “owing to the clumsy appearance they
presented,” a view that is shared to-day by several of the more
prominent of our owners of race horses.
Under the circumstances it is amusing to find the king himself
inditing a ponderous treatise “for the instruction and edification of
his son,” Henry, Prince of Wales, a treatise suitably enough entitled
“Religio Regis: or the Faith and Duty of a Prince.”
Apparently he wrote the greater part of this work at Newmarket, for in
it he alludes more than once to the races which were being held there
at the time, races at which he had been present on the day he wrote.
That he deemed horsemanship to be a form of exercise of inestimable
value becomes obvious as we read “Religio Regis”; but then in the
reign of almost every monarch from about the beginning of the Stuart
period down to the time of the four Georges great stress is laid by
the various sovereigns upon the advisability that the sons of the
nobles and of the aristocracy should become proficient horsemen.
The author of “The Court of King James” also is emphatic in his advice
to courtiers “to be very forwardly inclined to bring up horses,”
adding that such horses should be bred from the best strains only,
and that no matter how great the sum expended in order to secure good
strains, the money could not be looked upon as wasted.
Of the royal studs in the reign of James I., the most important
probably were those at Newmarket, at Eltham, at Tutbury, Malmesbury
and Cole Park, and among the manuscripts in the British Museum there
may be seen to-day an interesting list of the “necessaries” which
appertained to the royal stables, all classified under separate
headings—geldings, cart horses, coursers, hunters, battle horses, and
so on.
Remarks upon the part played by the horse in history at about this
time are to be found also in Lodge's “Illustrations of British
History,” where, in the third volume, we read that on 6th April 1605
there arrived at Greenwich Palace “a dozen gallant mares, all with
foal, four horses, and eleven stallions, all coursers of Naples.”
These the archduke begged King James to accept as a small mark of the
esteem in which the king was held by himself and his country-men.
In the historical records of almost the whole of James I.'s reign we
find reference made repeatedly to race horses, also to the sport of
hunting. An important fixture, as we should call it to-day, apparently
was the Chester Meeting. It took place on St George's Day, and the
chief race was known as “The St George's Cup.” The riders carried ten
stone, and the entrance stake was half-a-crown.
A quaint rule in connection with this race was that the winning owner
had to contribute to a fund for the benefit of the prisoners confined
in the North Gate jail “the sum of six shillings and eightpence or
three shillings and fourpence, on certain conditions.”
In addition to the cup, silver bells were run for at this meeting,
and it is interesting to learn that before removing their prizes the
cup winner and the bell winners were compelled to deposit “adequate
security”—presumably with the race committee—for these trophies. For
all the principal trophies had to be run for again at the following
meeting, and we are told quite seriously that it was feared that if
the temporary owners were allowed to remove these prizes without
leaving any security they might have been disposed to make away with
them before the date of the next meeting!
At the Chester Meeting, and therefore presumably elsewhere, the
sheriff acted as starter, “and if any rider committed foul play during
the race he was disqualified in case he won.”
About the year 1624, however, certain changes were made in the rules
of racing, and from that time onward some of the races were run five
times round the course instead of only three times, also the winner
of a cup became entitled to retain it as his property “upon the first
occasion of gaining it.”
Professional jockeys in the reign of James I. held, in a sense, quite
a good position. The king associated with them frequently, especially
at Newmarket. Indeed, he openly admitted that he preferred the company
of sportsmen to that of politicians, and that the surroundings of the
racecourse and the pleasures of the chase attracted him far more than
did the business of the state.
His enemies, as we know, took advantage of these carelessly uttered
assertions when later they set to work to encompass his downfall, and
during the closing years of his reign he was made to suffer unjustly
for many of the minor follies of his youth.
It was wholly characteristic of James that he should upon one
occasion—he was staying at Croydon at the time in order to attend
the race meeting that was held there in Easter week—have in a sudden
access of emotional enthusiasm created his friend, Philip Herbert, a
knight, a baron and a viscount in the course of a few minutes.
This he is said to have done in order to mark his appreciation of
Herbert's self-control when, after being struck in the face by a
Scotsman named Ramsey, Herbert refrained from hitting back.
Though the king and all his courtiers and many strangers were present
upon the occasion, Herbert did not betray the least sign of annoyance,
though the blow was a severe one.
It should be borne in mind that during James's reign the Scots had, as
a nation, come to be almost execrated, so that the affront was all the
greater.
The king is said to have expressed it as his opinion that under the
circumstances Philip Herbert's self-restraint came near to being
heroic!
As James's fondness for racing increased, so did the great majority of
his nobles, his barons and his courtiers profess to grow fonder of the
sport, while many soon took to gambling with great recklessness.
This the king apparently encouraged them to do, for we learn that he
was “wont to laugh heartily when told that some of his sycophants
had lost exceptionally large sums of money,” or, as was frequently
the case, that one or other of them had been compelled to part with
a portion of his estates in order to meet debts of honour. The women
of the court also aped the king at this time, as indeed they appear
to have done in almost every age. Yet their losses were small by
comparison with the sums lost on the Turf by their daughters and
granddaughters in the reign of Charles II., half-a-century or so later.
Two years after James I. had ascended the throne there set in one of
the coldest winters this country has ever known, with the result that
a long stretch of the River Ouse became frozen over and so afforded
the king an opportunity, of which he was quick to avail himself, of
organising a race-meeting on the ice.
Drake tells us that the course extended “from the tower at the end
of Marygate, under the great arch of the bridge, to the crane at
Skeldergate Postern.”
But even so early as this in the reign of King James the opponents of
horse racing began to raise indignant protests against “the folly and
wickedness of betting on running horses,” protests to which but scant
attention was paid.
Not until some years later did the extremely zealous clergyman named
Hinde set seriously to work to denounce the practice of gambling in
any and every form, and he appears then to have spoken and written so
forcibly that many persons of intelligence and education—I quote from
a trustworthy source—gathered round and strove to encourage him to the
best of their ability.
Racing in particular he waged war against, declaring it to be “an
exercise of profaneness diligently followed by many of our gentlemen
and by many of inferior rank also.” Great injury, he maintained, was
done by men of rank and others “who of their weekly and almost daily
meetings, and matches on their bowling greens, or their lavish betting
of great wagers in such sorry trifles, and of their stout and strong
abbeting of so sillie vanaties amongst hundreds, sometimes thousands,
of rude and vile persons to whom they should give better, and not
so bad example and encouragement, as to be idle in neglecting their
callings; wasteful in gaming, and spending their means; wicked in
cursing and swearing, and dangerously profane in their brawling and
quarrelling.”
These observations, and many more to the same effect, are to be found
in the “Biography of Bruen”; yet in the long run the diatribes made
but little difference, for the passion for gambling had taken a firm
hold of the people of almost all classes, and while it lasted it
flourished exceedingly.
We do not hear of many famous horses during the reign of James I.,
save the sires which the king himself imported; yet it is certain that
the popularity of the horse increased during the first two decades of
the seventeenth century, quite apart from the popularity that betting
upon horse races continued to acquire.
As a natural result, perhaps, greater attention soon came to be paid
to the management and care of horses, to feeding and exercising them,
so that probably the owners of the thoroughbreds of those days had
begun to realise, as they do not appear to have done before, that
a horse's working years may be considerably prolonged if he be fed
carefully and exercised regularly.
Indeed the crass ignorance that until about this time had prevailed
with regard to the treatment of sick horses comes near to being
ludicrous. Superstition, as we know, was rampant in connection with
the curing of suffering humanity, and various forms of superstition
extended in a great measure to the treatment of animals that were out
of health.
Thus we read of horses supposed to be possessed by evil spirits,
when what they probably were suffering from was an attack of simple
staggers; of witches being consulted when a horse went lame, and paid
liberally for their grotesque advice, and so on to the end.
That horses so often went lame at about this period was due probably
to the ignorance of many of the farriers of the very rudiments of
practical farriery.
In Ireland, possibly also in parts of England, a horse with what is
called to-day a “wall” eye was looked upon as a harbinger of evil,
and deemed likely to bring bad luck, especially upon the family and
relatives of the man who owned it; while any man so “ill-advised” as
to breed a fearsome creature of this kind often was afterwards glanced
at askance by persons who before he had numbered amongst his friends.
Then there existed also a superstitious belief in connection with a
horse with a white hoof, but what this particular superstition was I
have not been able to discover. Apparently the owner of a horse so
marked was glad enough to get rid of it for a sum much below its true
worth, and generally he deemed himself fortunate if able to sell such
a horse at all.
An instance is on record of a weakly foal being left out all night
in a snowstorm as a superstitious test. We are told that it died
of exposure, and that its owner at once thanked God for His mercy
in having taken from him a creature born with an evil spirit, the
inference being that but for the alleged evil spirit the little foal
would have been able to withstand the rigour of the blizzard and the
intense cold.
Stolen horses in particular were believed to possess a supernatural
power that would enable them to find their way home to their rightful
masters if they succeeded in escaping from the thief. But plenty of
horses, as we know, are to-day able to find their way home from a long
way off, horses that have not necessarily been stolen.
In justice let it be said that James laughed to scorn the majority of
these superstitious beliefs. This is strange, for in some respects he
must have been almost as superstitious as many of his courtiers—and
for that matter as the great bulk of his subjects.
Partial to tall horses, he expressed a wish that his nobles should not
ride cobs, deeming such animals to be out of keeping with the majesty
of the court.
It was probably for this reason that he strove to encourage his
subjects to ride tall horses.
Then, though several historians appear to take it for granted that
the Turkish horse was unknown in England until the arrival of the
famous Byerley Turk in 1689, we may rest assured that Turkish horses
were here in James's time, and probable before his time. Blunderville
is only one of the early writers who say so in so many words.
Incidentally he mentions that fully a century before the Byerley Turk
was brought over he himself had seen “horses come from Turkey, as
well into Italie as thither into England, indifferentlie faire to the
eie, tho' not verie great nor stronglie made, yet very light and swift
in their running, and of great courage.”
Also we read that about the year 1617 “half-a-dozen Barbry horses”
were brought to England by Sir Thomas Edmonds and stabled at Newmarket
in the royal paddocks.
A quaint description is to be found in the works of several of the
writers in James I.'s reign of an accident that befell the king in
December of the year 1621 as he was riding after dinner, an accident
that in spite of its undeniable grotesqueness might well have proved
disastrous.
The king, it seems, had “gone abroad early in the day, and to
Theobald's to dinner.” He appears to have enjoyed his dinner at
Theobald's greatly, and to have decided quite suddenly, as soon as the
meal was over, that he would like “to ride on horseback abroad.”
The accident that presently was to occur is attributed by different
writers to different causes, the most charitable of the reports
being to the effect that the king's horse stumbled and threw his
royal master on to the frozen surface of the New River “with so much
violence that the ice brake and he fell in so that nothing but his
boots were seen.”
Sir Richard Young, who chanced to be riding just behind him, instantly
sprang off his horse and succeeded with the help of a friend, though
only with great difficulty, in dragging the dripping monarch “out of
the hole and his undignified predicament.”
According to another chronicler, “there came much water out of his
mouth and body,” yet “His Majesty rid back to Theobald's, went into a
warme bed, and, as we heere, is well, which God continue.”
That the king had a sense of humour is made manifest by the statement
that upon his recovery he laughed heartily at the recollection of the
incident, while we are further told that his gratitude to Sir Richard
Young, his rescuer, “did not stop short at the hearty grasp of the
hand he gave him.”
Mention has already been made of James's strange literary work,
“Religio Regis: or the Faith and Duty of a Prince.” This is said to
have been written during the King's temporary residence at Newmarket
“for the betterment of his health” (_sic_).
It was produced primarily for “the instruction and edification” of
his son, Henry, at that time Prince of Wales, but it came to be read
widely by his nobles and all about the court.
In this remarkable treatise we are told that “the honourablest and
most commendable Games that a king can use are on Horseback, for it
becomes a Prince above all Men to be a good Horseman. And use such
Games on Horseback as may teach you to handle your Arms thereon, such
as Tilt, Ring, and low-riding for handling your sword....
“As for hunting, the most honourable and noblest Sport thereof is with
running Hounds; for it is a thievish sport of hunting to shoot with
Guns and Bows....
“However, in using either of these Sports observe such Moderation
that you slip not therewith Hours appointed for your Affairs, which
you ought ever precisely to keep; remembering that these Pastimes are
but ordain'd for you to enable you for your Office, to which you are
call'd by your Birth.”
Before the close of James's reign the Turf bore every sign of having
been granted a fresh lease of life. Private riding matches among men
of rank and wealth had become popular again, and though some of these
were “'cross-country matches,” plenty were ridden on the flat, upon
which occasions vast sums of money were run for almost always.
Of these races one that seems to have attracted much attention was run
in the year 1622, for a cup valued at twelve pounds, when the crowd
that assembled was one of the biggest at that time on record.
The wagers that were made were mostly in large sums, and we are told
that, to the surprise of the majority of the betting men “and their
subsequent discomfiture,” the race, in which there were six “tryers,”
was won by an outsider, the property of a popular sportsman, Sir
George Bowes.
The judge in this race was a Mr Humphrey Wyvell, and so greatly
annoyed did the crowd become at the defeat of the favourite that they
made a desperate attempt to attack the judge, with the intention of
injuring him seriously, an attempt that fortunately was frustrated.
We are not told if the king was present upon this occasion, but the
principal racing men of the period undoubtedly were there. The king
himself attended a meeting at Lincoln in the spring of 1617, where he
lost very heavily.
Towards the end of this reign strong opposition to the increasing
popularity of racing began to manifest itself among what we should
to-day call the middle class, owing, so it was said, to the sport
being vigorously denounced from pulpit and platform as a growing
national evil, “one likely to imperil the whole country's prosperity.”
For some time the king strove to smother these denunciations, and he
even partially succeeded in the attempt.
Yet in the end the people must have triumphed, for we read that
James was still on the throne when some of the more popular of the
flat-race meetings were tacitly allowed to be abandoned, while in
1620 the meeting which usually had been held at Thetford was directly
suppressed by an order of the Privy Council.
Among the most important of the private riding matches, as they were
then called, that took place in James's reign was the one arranged at
Newmarket between Lord Haddington and Lord Sheffield.
Run at Huntingdon towards the end of the year 1607, the race was
extremely exciting from start to finish. Both men appear to have been
good riders, and the stake run for is said to have amounted to a
considerable sum.
Yet the various accounts of the match give versions which differ
widely as to what happened, and while one writer declares that Lord
Haddington won with difficulty, another contradicts him by maintaining
that the stake was awarded to Lord Sheffield.
With regard to the pictures that are said to have been drawn from life
in those days, if they are true to life it becomes obvious that some
three centuries ago it was not customary for race riders, or “tryers,”
to stand in their stirrups while riding races, as they do to-day and
most certainly did in the last century and the century before it.
This is strange, for some of the earliest of our writers who touch
incidentally upon the subject of race riding are rather emphatic in
declaring that the jockey should get rid of all “dead” weight, and of
course it is chiefly by standing in the stirrups that “dead” weight
can be neutralised.
James I. would seem to have paid more attention to the theory of
training horses he intended to run than any of his predecessors
did, though this is not great praise, so ignorant of the fundamental
principles of scientific training were the horse owners of about that
period.
Upon slight provocation horses were freely bled, just as human beings
were bled or “leeched” less than a hundred years ago. Indeed we read
of one horse that was bled while in the hunting field, owing to its
having proved too restive for its owner to ride with comfort (!);
while another was driven into a leech pond in order that the leeches
might suck off “the goodlie warts” with which its belly and thighs
were studded.
So far as I have been able to ascertain, about a century and a half
ago the leech cure was deemed quite the best for warts. Yet perhaps we
are wrong to think or to speak contemptuously of the ignorance of our
forefathers. Who can say that in years to come our descendants may not
speak as contemptuously of us—their ancestors—because we fired horses,
and because we drenched them with physic for various ailments?
Indeed there are already veterinary surgeons who aver that to fire a
horse under any circumstances is to commit a grave blunder, and that
firing as a general practice ought emphatically to be abandoned.
CHAPTER II
First races of importance run at Newmarket—Races in Hyde Park—The
Helmsley Turk and the Morocco Barb—Racing introduced into
Holland—Importation of Spanish stallions into England—Prince
Charles's riding master, the Duke of Newcastle—Increasing cost
of horses—Marshal de Bassompierre; his loss through gambling,
£500,000 in a year; Sir John Fenwick—Sir Edward Harwood's
pessimism—Cromwell's Ironsides—Armour discarded—The opposition to
stage coaches; Mr Cressett's theory; Charles II. favours their
adoption
The early history of Newmarket is more or less wrapped in mystery, or
rather in confusion; in other words, the writers who have dealt with
“the inauguration of Newmarket racing,” as one of them terms it, in
many instances contradict one another so flatly that the truth can be
arrived at only by conjecture or by inference.
Apparently the destruction of the Spanish Armada in 1588 was the ill
wind that indirectly benefited Newmarket so far as its horses were
concerned, for there is no doubt that many of the horses rescued from
drowning when the great vessels of the Armada were wrecked were sent
direct to Newmarket, “where great surprise was expressed by all who
beheld them at their exceeding swiftness.”
From this one would naturally conclude that interesting races were
run on Newmarket Heath towards the close of the sixteenth century; yet
elsewhere we read that the first races of importance run at Newmarket
took place in 1640, and that the round course was not made until about
the year 1666, while a third historian goes so far as to declare that
a gold cup run for at the Newmarket Spring Meeting of 1634 affords
_per se_ the earliest irrefutable record of such an occurrence, based
on contemporary data.
Yet from statements set down in an earlier chapter we have already
seen that horse racing of a sort must have taken place at Newmarket
quite a long time before this. In point of fact, in almost every
historical record of Newmarket that I have come upon I have found
either direct or indirect allusion to the renown of the neighbourhood
of Newmarket for the horses that were bred or trained there.
The horses brought ashore from the Spanish vessels probably were among
the best that Spain at that time possessed, and several attempts were
made by the Spanish to recover some of them. It is known that towards
the close of the sixteenth century the Spanish were making determined
efforts to breed faster horses than they had previously bred, yet it
is surprising that the horses they had brought with them upon their
famous expedition should have been so swift, for they must have been
animals of far heavier type than the animals they would in a general
way breed for racing.
The Spaniards of three centuries ago, we must of course remember, were
renowned for their horsemanship far more highly than their descendants
of to-day are.
In the reign of Charles I. horse races were run in Hyde Park, a
track having been laid down there with great care. This meeting was
immensely popular, and “the inhabitants of London and those parts near
London assembled in their thousands to watch the running horses,” and
in most instances to squander large sums.
“The Park first became under Charles I. the fashionable society
rendezvous,” Mrs Alec Tweedie tells us in her interesting volume,
“Hyde Park: Its History and Romance.” “Its greatest attraction, maybe,
was the racing in the Ring. The occasions when organised meetings
took place were special scenes of gaiety, and were evidently thought
important events, as even among the State Papers there is preserved
the agreement for a race that took place there.”
In later years an attempt was made to revive the Hyde Park race
meeting, but the attempt was vigorously opposed by the mass of the
residents in the neighbourhood, and by many others as well.
A report of a race in Hyde Park appears in a copy of _The London
Post_, but is undated. As _The London Post_ ceased to exist after the
year 1640, this race was run probably a year or two before that
date. The report is said to be the first detailed account of a horse
race ever published in a newspaper.
“I made a present to the King,” Sully writes, “of six beautiful horses
richly caparisoned, and the Sieur of St Antoine as their keeper.” The
Sieur of St Antoine, who after being equerry to Prince Henry became
equerry to Charles I., is represented in the famous Vandyck picture of
King Charles in armour, in the picture now in the National Gallery.
[Illustration: VAN DYCK'S FAMOUS PICTURE, NOW IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY,
OF CHARLES I ON HORSEBACK]
* * * * *
It was about the year 1641 that the Duke of Buckingham greatly helped
to improve the breed of horses by importing the famous Helmsley Turk
and the almost equally famous Morocco Barb. It is curious to read that
the importation of these horses was at first looked upon with grave
suspicion by a great body of the principal horse breeders in this
country, and by others interested in the horse and its development.
To what the antagonism was owing one can hardly say for certain. One
report has it that some among the duke's personal enemies—he had many
enemies—were determined to do all in their power to injure him by
wrecking any scheme in which he presumably was interested. The sums
he paid for these horses were considerable, but the excellent effect
the good blood had upon the breed fully repaid him for the incidental
outlay, also for the great trouble to which he had been put to secure
such excellent stallions.
Shortly before this some English officers serving in the Dutch army
had introduced horse racing into Holland, and the popularity of
the new sport began to spread there quickly. Soon a number of race
meetings came to be organised, and in a short time Dutch emissaries
were sent over to England for the express purpose of purchasing blood
stock here.
Being comparatively ignorant of horses—ignorant, that is to say, of
the requirements essential in a racing stallion—these emissaries were
at first cheated in the most barefaced manner by some of the very men
who only a short time before had been their guests in Holland!
Later, however, they succeeded in importing some very valuable blood
stock, and in several respects the race meetings they presently
organised were better arranged than many of the English meetings of
that period.
In 1637 we find the Duke of Newcastle appointed Governor to Prince
Charles—later to become King Charles II.—with special injunctions to
teach him to ride well.
The duke's volume on equitation, published at Antwerp in 1658,
contains particulars of the prince's progress in the art of
horsemanship, from which we may gather that Prince Charlie was an
exceptionally apt pupil—“a horseman by nature,” he has been termed.
So emphatically was this the case that in comparatively a few years he
professed himself able to ride any horse that anyone might choose to
bring to him, an assertion in which the duke supported him.
It was not long after this that the duke persuaded his royal pupil to
import from Spain a number of exceptionally fine sires, for, as he
said, Spanish stallions were quite unsurpassed, and in his opinion no
other sort of stallion ought to be admitted into this country.
The duke himself has been described as “an iron horseman,” but the
exact meaning of the phrase is not quite clear. He had, according to
some writers, an “iron” seat on a horse, while according to others he
had “iron” hands—the latter a questionable compliment.
Probably an “iron” nerve is what they really meant, for we know that
the Duke of Newcastle was both a finished and a fearless horseman, two
important qualifications that do not necessarily go together. We are
further told that in teaching the prince to ride he never spared him,
a statement easily believed when the duke's hard and resolute nature,
added to his known determination to succeed at any cost in every task
he undertook to accomplish, are borne in mind. Ordered to train the
prince into a skilful horseman, he had at once set to work to do it to
the best of his ability.
Some say that as a boy Prince Charlie looked, when in the saddle, as
if he had been born there, and through life this natural seat upon a
horse stood him in good stead.
In addition to being a graceful rider, he had a very strong seat, so
that presumably he possessed the precious gift that to-day we call
“hands.”
An eighteenth-century writer, who appears to have had access to
private manuscripts or documents to do with King Charles II.'s private
life, avers that the king never, as we should express it, pulled
a horse about. Even tempered with his horses, he seldom or never
ill-treated them. They appeared to respond instinctively to his every
touch, to understand what he meant by the varying inflection in his
voice, and to divine, as if by magic, what their master wished them to
do. Also he never outrode a horse under any circumstances—never, as we
should say, rode a horse off its legs.
He preferred long stirrup leathers to short, but then in his day most
men did.
Also it is said of him that he never would look twice at a horse that
had bad quarters or indifferent withers.
Altogether it seems clear that, though he had a natural aptitude for
horsemanship, he must have been carefully and very thoroughly coached
in all the points of a horse, as well as in all that appertained to
the management, training and stabling of horses of every kind.
* * * * *
Horses had risen in price during Charles I.'s reign. In the reign of
Charles II. they rose higher still.
Thus about the year 1635—that is to say towards the middle of Charles
I.'s reign—300 and 400 pistoles was considered a moderate sum to pay
for a well-broken young horse.
“And the Marquis of Seralvo told me,” writes the Duke of Newcastle,
“that a Spanish horse called Il Bravo, and sent to the Arch-Duke
Leopold, his master, was held as much as a Mannor of a Thousand Crowns
a year, and that he hath known horses at 700, 800, and 1000 pistoles.”
Elsewhere we find indisputable evidence that between the beginning of
Charles I.'s and the end of Charles II.'s reign sums varying from 400
to 700 pistoles must often have been paid for saddle horses, while for
race horses the prices were considerably in excess of these sums.
It is amusing to read that the duke spoke in terms almost of contempt
of the Barb, for it shows that in one respect at least he must have
been prejudiced in much the same way that some of our modern owners
and trainers of thoroughbreds are prejudiced.
Yet he was firmly convinced that many of the horses imported from such
countries as Germany, Denmark and Holland were well suited for harness
work and for the plough.
In face of this, and in face also of his strong bias in favour of
Spanish stallions, it is surprising to hear that he deemed the English
horse to be “the best horse in the whole world for all uses whatever,
from the cart to the manage,” and that he even considered some of them
to be “as beautiful horses as can be anywhere, for they are bred out
of all the horses of all nations.”
Equally enthusiastic upon the subject of the English horse and its
merits, and upon its superiority over the horses of other nations, was
Marshal de Bassompierre, who has something to say about them in the
interesting memoirs of his embassy in England in 1626.
Thus after telling us that during his residence in this country he
received from some of the high officers of state, also from the king
himself, a present of fine horses, he goes on to mention incidentally
that it was at about this period that English thoroughbreds were
introduced into France for the first time.
This is interesting, inasmuch as certain writers of an earlier epoch
state definitely that English thoroughbreds were to be seen in parts
of France in their day.
Bassompierre, who had been in England in Elizabeth's reign, is likely
to have known the true facts. In addition to being “addicted to
horses,” he was passionately fond of gambling, and the latter hobby is
said to have cost him in a single year some £500,000.
A family notorious early in the Stuart era for its devotion to the
Turf was the Fenwick family, so much so that several of its members
are described as having run “quite out of their fortunes” in their
futile attempts to transform two or three small fortunes into one
large one. The sensational story of Sir John Fenwick's trial, followed
by his execution on Tower Hill in 1697, establishes a sort of landmark
in the history of the public executions of the seventeenth century.
During the first half of the same century horse fairs were organised
throughout England, and year by year they became events of greater
importance, many hundreds of men and women of all ranks travelling
from far-distant parts of the country in order to attend them. The
scenes of ribaldry by which many of these fairs were followed would
not be tolerated now. Among the more important of the fairs were those
held at Ripon, Melton, Pankridge and Northampton, but many of the
others were almost equally fashionable.
It was in the reign of Charles I. that Sir Edward Harwood presented
the famous petition, or memorial, in which he explained in forcible
language that “good and stout horses for the defence of the kingdom”
would soon be to all intents at a premium owing to the scant attention
that was then being paid to the breeding of such animals, adding that
he doubted whether, if some 2000 great horses should be wanted at
short notice, it would be possible to find so many in a fit condition
to do battle.
The French horses of the same stamp, he went on to say, were in
almost every way superior to ours, and so emphatic was he upon this
last point that he openly declared that if some 2000 of the best of
our great horses were to be set face to face in battle with an equal
number of the Frenchmen's horses, our troops would to a certainty be
routed with heavy loss.
Seeing how earnestly Harwood spoke, the king, as we are told,
expressed sorrow and great amazement at what he heard, and at once
inquired the reason of the English horses' alleged inferiority.
Then it was that Sir Edward made his point. With considerable
bluntness he told the king that the decline of the great horse was
due chiefly to the spread of racing and hunting, and to the growth,
consequent thereon, in the number of race meetings that were being
organised, and in the assemblage of persons who attended them.
For, as he justly pointed out, so long as the attention of the
principal body of the nobility and of the wealthy landed proprietors
was centred upon the breeding almost wholly of light and swift horses,
it was not possible to suppose that time would be found to attend also
to the breeding and rearing of the powerful animals that alone were
fit to carry men-at-arms.
Upon hearing this, Charles declared, no doubt in all good faith, that
he would take steps to revive the flagging interest in the production
of good war horses, but in the end nothing practical was done.
That the king himself took interest in the great horse we are led to
infer from the fact that upon the big seal he is shown riding astride
one. In Vandyck's portrait of Oliver Cromwell we see Cromwell riding
rather a light-coloured great horse, a point worthy of note inasmuch
as we know that from about that time onward the term “great” horse was
almost always taken to mean a _black_ horse of this particular stamp.
[Illustration: OLIVER CROMWELL ON HORSEBACK
_After Van Dyck_]
Oliver Cromwell's world-renowned Ironsides were not, of course,
mounted on great horses. On the contrary, though the Ironsides proved
themselves to be by far the most powerful cavalry seen in England down
to that time, their strength was due not to their weight, but to their
remarkable mobility.
The dismay the Ironsides spread amongst the foe is said to have
astonished the cavaliers themselves as much as it surprised the enemy.
For it must be borne in mind that the Ironsides did not wear armour.
Instead they were protected merely by light buff coats, so that
naturally they were able to ride far lighter and consequently more
active, horses.
Probably it was the good work done by Cromwell's cavalry that marked
the turning-point in the life of the old _régime_ by driving out of
the field not only the great horses that until then had been deemed
wholly indispensable, but also by sounding the death-knell of armour
that for two centuries had been growing steadily heavier and more
ponderous.
For many years, however, a body of the English military authorities
metaphorically clung doggedly to the clumsy horses to which they
had so long been accustomed, and to the clumsy armour as well,
declaring—as some of their successors do to-day—that the innovation
of a mobile force must soon prove unsatisfactory and ultimately be
disbanded.
Instead, exactly the reverse happened.
By slow degrees the armour was discarded, while the great horses, as
we are told, were relegated to the coach, the waggon and the plough.
Among those who adhered longest to the theory that England must
inevitably lose her prestige if the great horse were ousted from
her army for good and all was the Duke of Newcastle of that period.
Laughed at for his pains, and spoken of by the younger generation as
a man not able to see ahead of the times, he yet stood firmly by his
opinion almost to the last. As the years went on, and the younger
generation in their turn grew retrospective and pessimistic, no doubt
they too were laughed at by their sons, and thus history continues to
repeat itself even to the present day.
* * * * *
At about this period many of the “good” roads in England were in
reality little better than broad cart tracks, so that heavy horses
were largely in demand. In consequence of this the prices paid for a
good team of horses were in many instances out of all proportion to
the animals' true worth. By this time, too, public stages were already
being started on the highroads, and the competition this gave rise to
soon sent up by leaps and bounds the value of great horses well broken
to harness.
Of these stages the first was started probably about the year 1670,
and its weight when empty must have been enormous, every part being
made of solid timber bound with strips of iron. The “speed” at which
it travelled—so far as one can gather from the early descriptive
records of the progress of the pioneer stage—must have been
approximately three or four miles an hour, upon an average, or even
less.
An excellent reproduction of the early type of the English great
horse is to be seen in Dublin in the famous statue of William III. on
horseback. The type of horse shown is probably the exact type that was
popular not merely in William III.'s reign, but during the greater
part of the century before he ascended the throne.
True, in that statue the king is garbed like an ancient Roman, the
reason being—I take the following statement from several Irish
jarveys, and disclaim all responsibility for its alleged accuracy—that
King William adored a foreigner and tried always to look like one!
It was, indeed, a jarvey who remarked as we drove past: “Sure, and
it is in hunting kit he should be, and on one of Pat Mecreedy's
hundred-guinea leppers.” He appeared to be convulsed with mirth at
the bare thought that the hero of the Boyne should have been depicted
mounted upon a cart horse.
Some even among our historians, however, have averred that this horse
is wrongly proportioned. Personally I incline to the belief that the
animal is in every detail true to life, and not many years ago the
late Viscount Powerscourt declared that he himself had seen used in
parts of Holland horses that in every respect resembled this animal of
King William's statue.
Is it not likely, therefore, that William III. may have been in the
habit of riding a Dutch horse, and that the sculptor copied this horse
quite faithfully?
Certainly if the pictures of the period are to be trusted for
accuracy, soon after the overthrow of James II. by William of Orange
there were horses in plenty of almost exactly this type to be seen
in England. Also the harness that was worn by many of the Dutch
horses shown in the pictures resembled the harness that was in use
among followers of William III., more especially the parts we mean to
indicate when we speak of a horse's trappings.
Even the bridles greatly resembled one another in some instances.
* * * * *
Bearing directly upon the story of the horse in history are the
descriptions that have been handed down to us of the almost frantic
opposition that met the introduction of the stage coach soon after
the middle of the seventeenth century.
In some respects these descriptions recall vividly to mind the rabid
antagonism some two centuries later to the introduction of the steam
engine, not to speak of the objections that are still raised by a
proportion of the community to the general adoption of automobilism.
Prior to the introduction of the stage coach into England a
four-wheeled carriage with a long, low body had been employed to
convey the general public from one part of the country to another, and
when the stage coach first arrived many of our wiseacres were quick
to prophesy that the death-knell of the nation's greatness had in
consequence been sounded!
Perhaps one of the stoutest of the opponents of reform in this
respect was a certain Mr Cressett, of Charterhouse, who in the year
1662 openly and in very straightforward language affirmed that the
adoption of the stage coach must “entirely ruin the country,” and who
in that year wrote a vigorous tract, in which he explained entirely
to his satisfaction—also, apparently, to the satisfaction of his
partisans—that the amount of harm the introduction of road coaching
must inevitably cause to the community at large would be enormous.
His remarks, too voluminous to reprint _in extenso_, contain in one
place the observation that “by this rapid mode of travelling”—at the
period in which he wrote it took approximately three days to get from
London to Dover, even in fine weather—“gentlemen will come to London
upon the slightest pretext, which but for these abominable coaches
they would not do but upon urgent necessity.”
Nor would the impending evil, in his opinion, end there, for, lashing
himself gradually into a fury, he went on to maintain that “the
gentlemen's wives” would come too, and that no sooner would they find
themselves in London than they would “get fine clothes, go to plays
and treats, and by these means get such a habit of idleness and love
for pleasure that they would be uneasy ever after.”
Poor Mr Cressett!
Surely he must have been an ancestor, or at the least some early
relative, of the notorious Mr Wightman who, just before the first
London and Brighton railway was laid down, wrote a book in which he
“proved” beyond refutation that no locomotive steam engine could by
any possibility be propelled at a speed greater than about half the
speed of the fastest of the coaches then on the road!
We smile indulgently at all this now, yet, when all is said, have we
changed so very greatly since those dark and peculiar ages—since the
epoch that we now refer to so complacently as “the good old times”?
(_sic_).
The narratives of the remarkable experiences of many of the travellers
in those early coaches would make up almost enough letterpress to
fill a volume. For from the very outset the public stages became the
unlawful prey of half the rascals with which a vast tract of the whole
of England at that time teemed. Coaches were plundered almost daily,
and while sometimes blood was spilt intentionally, often this happened
rather by accident.
Charles II., who used his influence to help on the development of
the stage coach, appears at times to have become frankly impatient
with the ultra-conservatism of the bulk of his nobility and of the
aristocracy who strove hard to check the progress of the new form of
locomotion.
Whatever Charles's shortcomings may have been—and we know that he
had many—he had enough of _nous_ to be able to foresee the enormous
advantages that would be derived from the general adoption of the
public stage.
Consequently he encouraged the importation of stallions and the
breeding of animals of the stamp best adapted for coach work.
Himself a finished whip, most likely, he desired that all his nobles
should emulate his example by learning to drive well, though driving
in those days was a form of amusement comparatively seldom indulged
in by the well-to-do, who, as we are told, preferred being driven by
postillions.
Before Prince Charles's proclamation, however, the ten years of the
Commonwealth's sway had to intervene, during which time the horse's
progress in this country suffered a set-back from the effects of which
it did not immediately recover.
The beginning of the horse's decline in public favour may be said to
have dated from 4th January 1651, on which day a report was drawn
up—to be soon afterwards presented to Parliament—demanding that
horse races, hunting, hawking matches and football playing be at
once suppressed, the plea in favour of this radical reform being
that frequently political meetings were convened by enemies of the
Commonwealth under the veil of race meetings and similar social
gatherings.
CHAPTER III
The Commonwealth's “ordinance to prohibit horse racing”—Revival
of racing under Charles II.—The King a finished horseman—The
figure of Britannia—The Royal Mares—Formation of the
thoroughbred stud—Thomas Shadwell's cynical description of
life at Newmarket—Spread of horse racing in Ireland—Jockeys at
Newmarket entertained by Charles II.—Sir Robert Carr; the Duke of
Monmouth's connection with the Turf—Annual charge for horses of
the royal household, £16,640—Newmarket under the _régime_ of the
Merry Monarch; the Duke of Buckingham
Though it soon became evident that the Commonwealth was determined
to oppose, tooth and nail, any step that might in the least tend to
keep alive the interest in horse racing and horse breeding that for
many years had grown up so steadily throughout almost the length and
breadth of England, not until the 3rd July 1654 did the Government
finally decide to introduce “an ordinance to prohibit horse racing.”
This ordinance was duly passed, and the result may well be imagined.
For without further parley almost every racecourse in England was
closed, thousands of men of many different grades being thereby at
once thrown out of employment. Owners of valuable thoroughbreds
lost immense sums, for, practically without warning, they found the
order thrust upon them and so were obliged to sell their racing
stock for whatever sum it would fetch in the open market.
[Illustration: HORSES OF THE CAVALIERS. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY]
In this connection Cromwell, who himself had for many years owned
race horses and been very fond of racing, suffered with the rest,
though both he and his adherents are said to have declared that they
willingly gave up their horses “for the good of the cause they had at
heart.”
There can be no doubt that many valuable sires were imported into
England about the time that Cromwell was practically in power, and
one of them, “a south-eastern horse named White Turk,” apparently was
brought over by Cromwell's own stud groom.
Several of the early records contain interesting descriptions of the
sires that were imported at about this time. Mr William Cavendish,
afterwards Duke of Newcastle, writing about the year 1658, tells
us that the Turkish horse of the period was a tall animal, “but of
unequal shape,” and that though “remarkably beautiful, very active,
with plenty of bone and excellent wind,” it rarely had a good mouth.
“The Barb,” he writes elsewhere, “possesses a superb and high action,
is an excellent trotter and galloper, and very active when in motion.
Although generally not so strong as other breeds, when well chosen I
do not know a more noble horse, and I have read strange tales of their
courage.”
The Barbs came of course from Barbary, the best of them from Morocco,
Fez, and the adjacent districts, and some from the interior of
Tripoli. Even the first to be imported were said to be better shaped
than any horses that had been seen before in this country, and to
have, in addition, excellent action by nature.
From what can be ascertained at this date, the pure Arabian steed
seldom, if ever, stood higher than fourteen and a half hands, and
rarely or never became a roarer. In all probability many even of the
finest Arabian horses stood but fourteen hands high, while plenty must
have been smaller still—say thirteen two or even thirteen one.
This is worth remembering when we know that nearly every horse that
has established a reputation on the English Turf has been of Eastern
descent.
Probably the best of the Turkish horses were descended from the horses
of Arabia and of Persia, though the former were for the most part
taller, and generally “bigger built,” besides being world renowned for
their remarkable docility.
* * * * *
At last the Commonwealth came to an end, and with the accession of
Charles II. to the throne “the whole of England,” to quote the
sentence of a contemporary chronicler, “seemed to open its lungs and
breathe again.”
For during the ten years of the great Commonwealth the Turf had to all
intents become extinct in England. The racecourses were “overgrown and
choked,” some had been built upon, others had been converted into what
purported to be pleasure grounds—“spaces for the recreation of the
multitude.”
But apparently the multitude preferred the spaces as they had been
in the time of Charles I., for no sooner did it become known that
the more important of the race meetings that had been abandoned were
about to be revived than “the people rejoiced greatly and gave vent to
demonstration.”
In a surprisingly short time race horses seemed to spring up out of
nowhere, some in such good fettle, comparatively—when it is borne
in mind that the race horse was supposed to have become practically
extinct during the Commonwealth's _régime_—that, as one historian has
it, the severity of the laws that had been passed for the suppression
of horse racing, and indirectly of race horses, must clearly have been
evaded in several parts of this country.
Thus it comes that soon after the Restoration we read of races being
run for silver bells and other prizes at Croydon, at Theobald's, at
Chester and many other places that had been important racing centres
before the Commonwealth.
“Though race horses were few at the time of Charles II.'s accession,”
observes one writer, “and none had eaten bread for years” (about the
middle of the seventeenth century race horses were trained largely on
bread), “and these had languished in neglect, at the Restoration they
emerged from their obscurity when the penal disabilities collapsed to
which the Turf was subjected by the Puritans.
“The revival of horse racing was almost magical in its effects. Thus
we find the Turf rising like a Phœnix from its ashes on the accession
of Charles II., to be thoroughly reinstated as our great national
pastime during the Merry Monarch's reign.
“To this resuscitation the king extended his powerful patronage and
support. His love of the equine race is typified in the soubriquet by
which he was popularly known, namely 'Old Rowley,' the name of his
favourite hack. It is possible that among all our sovereigns, with the
exception, perhaps, of Richard II., King Charles II. alone rode his
horses first past the winning post. He was, indeed, a thorough English
sportsman who could hold his own against all comers in the chases, on
the racecourse and so on.”
The above description approximately sums up the Merry Monarch so
far as his fondness for horses and horse racing has to do with this
history. Every inch a horseman, he appears to have been gifted with a
singular aptitude for controlling almost any animal he mounted, and to
have developed in a high degree the instinct, or whatever it may be,
that to-day we speak of as the power of judging pace in race riding.
Endowed with nerve, also with physical courage in abundance, it is
not surprising that the king should have been looked upon by many of
his courtiers almost as a demigod when first he ascended the throne,
and that the Duke of Newcastle, who had trained him to horsemanship,
should openly have expressed himself as immensely proud of his pupil
and his pupil's skill.
In the principal race at Chester the horses used to run five times
round the Roody. It was upon a horse running in this race that Charles
once staked and lost a small fortune. The meetings he most preferred,
however, probably were those held periodically at Newmarket,
where to this day the famous Rowley Mile recalls to memory the
seventeenth-century's cheeriest monarch, a king to whom horse racing
in this country still owes so much.
It was, indeed, King Charles II. who almost entirely rebuilt the stand
at Newmarket after the original one had been damaged beyond repair
during the progress of the Civil War. It is said that the old race
stand was besieged on at least three separate occasions during that
long and bloody conflict.
While a certain historic race meeting at Newmarket was in progress,
Philip Rotier, the famous sculptor, availed himself of an unexpected
opportunity—an opportunity for which he had long waited—to make a
sketch of the beautiful Miss Stuart, who was destined to become in the
year 1667 the third wife of the third Duke of Richmond.
Miss Stuart's name was at that time in everybody's mouth, the
exquisite loveliness of her face being equalled, so it was said, only
by the moulding of her figure and the irresistible fascination of her
voice and manner. It was this unfinished portrait by Philip Rotier
that was subsequently to develop into the figure that to-day we see
upon every copper coin—the figure of Britannia with her trident.
“So exact was the likeness,” says Felton, in his notes on Waller,
“that no one who had ever seen her Grace could mistake who had sat for
Britannia.”
How rapidly the Turf must have sprung into life once more upon Charles
II.'s accession to the throne of England may be gathered from the
statement that within six years after the date of his coronation,
“the glory of Newmarket had again eclipsed itself.” Yet apparently
the country's prosperity did not directly benefit. The nobles and
the wealthy classes seemed determined at any and every cost to warm
both hands at the fire of life in the best and worst meaning of that
hackneyed phrase. In Pope's “Imitation of Horace,” the statement is
made quite bluntly:—
“In days of ease, when now the weary sword
Was sheathed, and luxury with Charles restored,
In every taste of foreign courts improved,
All, by the King's example, lived and loved.
Then peers grew proud in horsemanship t'excell—
Newmarket's glory rose, as Britain's fell.”
Wherever in the early histories and records mention is made of
Charles's horsemanship, we find also some allusion to William
Cavendish, afterwards to become Duke of Newcastle, and credit for
Charles's skill is attributed in a great measure to him.
Further we learn that at the age of ten “His Majesty's capacity was
such that he would ride leaping horses, and such as would overthrow
others, and manage them with the greatest skill and dexterity, to the
admiration of all who beheld him.”
Indeed in this one respect he must at about that period of his
life have resembled the great Alexander, for his determination and
self-confidence when he was mounted on horseback were alike amazing.
Upon more than one occasion he expressed himself ready to ride for a
wager any horse that might be brought to him, and, if need be, to ride
it bareback.
In his after life, as we know, this strength of will of his grew
gradually into senseless obstinacy, yet he never lost his nerve for
riding over a country, a fact the more remarkable when we reflect upon
the sort of life he came to lead as he grew older.
The descriptions we have of the race horses he bred are somewhat
contradictory and must therefore be received with caution. That he
imported many fine mares from Barbary is certain, also it is certain
that at regular intervals he sent abroad competent judges with
instructions that they should secure for him, regardless of cost, the
best animals obtainable.
From among the best of these were selected the stud that came
afterwards to be known as the Royal Mares, a designation they bear in
the stud-book to this day. The dam of the famous Dodsworth—one of the
earliest of all our thoroughbreds—was included in the royal stud, and
its pedigree has been authenticated beyond dispute.
Emphatically Charles II. did more to encourage horse racing than any
other monarch after Henry VIII. had done, and by comparison he did
much more than Henry VIII. by any possibility could have done, the
very best racing in Henry's reign being quite inferior to the sport
shown in the reign of the Merry Monarch.
And by every means that lay in his power the Duke of Newcastle
abetted Charles. The duke himself, soon after the Restoration, sank a
considerable sum in the purchase of fresh racing stock to add to his
stud, already a large one. And thus the foundation of the thoroughbred
stud of modern times may be said to date practically from about the
latter part of the seventeenth century.
Thomas Shadwell, the famous playwright, who, born in 1642, lived for
half-a-century, alludes in several of his dramatic works to “the great
wave of passionate devotion to vices of various kinds” that seemed to
roll gradually over the whole of England during the reign of Charles
II., while special reference is made to the all-absorbing interest
taken in the Turf while the Merry Monarch was on the throne.
Speaking of Newmarket in particular, “there a man is never idle,” he
makes one of his characters cynically observe, “for we make visits to
horses, and talk with grooms, riders and cock-keepers, and saunter in
the Heath all the fore-noon.
“Then we dine, and never talk a word but of dogs, cocks and horses.
“Then we saunter into the Heath again, then to a cock-match, then to a
play in a barn, then to supper, and never speak a word but of dogs,
cocks and horses again.
“Then to the Groom Porters, where you may play all night. Oh, 'tis a
heavenly life! We are never, never tired!”
Seeing what keen and thorough sportsmen the Irish are, as a body,
one is rather surprised to learn that until towards the close of the
seventeenth century horse racing was almost unknown in Ireland. No
sooner had it been introduced, however, than it began to develop with
great rapidity, so that within a few years it spread into many parts
of the island and we hear of race meeting after race meeting being
organised.
For horse racing seemed to suit the temperament of the Irish people as
no other form of sport had done. From the first the Irish must have
devoted much time and attention to race horse breeding, and though
their facilities for obtaining the services of the best stallions were
fewer than the facilities afforded to the English breeders, they yet
succeeded in rearing a number of useful animals, while plenty of their
race meetings soon compared favourably with some of the best meetings
that were held in England at about the same period.
But few particulars are extant of the races in which King Charles
himself rode, though several of the earlier writers inform us that he
“carried all before him.” In a despatch from Sir Robert Carr, dated
the 24th day of March 1675, we read that “Yesterday his majestie rode
himself three heats and a course and won the Plate, all fower were
hard and nere run, and I doe assure you the King wonn by good Horseman
Ship.”
Descriptions are to be found elsewhere of a fox hunt in which the king
took part. It took place some twenty miles from Newmarket. That was in
1680, and apparently no fox hunt in King Charles's reign had before
been described in writing.
Yet the king, though partial to hunting, was undoubtedly much fonder
of racing. It was in this year—the year 1680—that he entertained
at Newmarket the vice-chancellor and the dons of the University of
Cambridge, and, as well, all the jockeys who had ridden at the meeting.
Whether vice-chancellor, dons and jockeys were all entertained by
the king at the same time is not stated, though we are led to infer
that they must have been. Charles, as students of history know, was
cosmopolitan to the backbone, and not ashamed of the fact. Ever a
practical joker, he is known to have taken delight that was almost
boyish in bringing together an assemblage of persons whose sentiments,
views and tastes he knew to be in every way dissimilar.
The companionship of jockeys appealed to him at all times, and the
year after he had entertained those at Newmarket we find him at
supper with the Duke of Albemarle, “and all the jockeys with them.”
During the progress of this meal Sir Robert Carr and the king arranged
several matches in which their respective horses were to be ridden by
the jockey each should nominate. That Sir Robert came badly out of
the affair may be gathered from the statement that in a single day he
lost between £5000 and £6000 “and became greatly enraged”—a breach of
etiquette that the king did not forget, and that he never forgave.
A despatch from Lord Conway, dated the 5th April 1682, contains a
descriptive account of a false start that took place in one of the
races at Newmarket owing apparently to a curious blunder on the part
of the starter.
“Here hapned yesterday,” Lord Conway writes, “a dispute upon
the greatest point of Criticall learning that was ever known at
New-Market, A Match between a Horse of Sir Rob: Car's, and a Gelding
of Sir Rob: Geeres, for a mile and a halfe only, had engaged all the
Court in many thousand pounds, much depending in so short a course to
haue them start fairly.
“Mr Griffin was appointed to start them. When he saw them equall he
sayd Goe, and presently he cryed out Stay. One went off, and run
through the Course and claims his money, the other never stird at all.
“Now possibly you may say that this was not a fayre starting, but the
critics say after the word Goe was out of his mouth his commission was
determined, and it was illegall for him to say Stay. I suppose there
will be Volumes written upon this Subject; 'tis all refered to his
Majesty's Judgment, who hath not yet determined it.”
Another staunch supporter of horse racing in Charles II.'s reign was
the ill-starred Duke of Monmouth, whose career on the English Turf
ended abruptly when in 1682 he was practically sent abroad as an exile.
Early in the following year, however, the idea occurred to Louis XIV.
that as horse racing had become so popular in England he would like to
make it the national pastime of France also. In order to foster public
interest in the turf, therefore, he began by offering a plate valued
at 1000 pistoles to be run for at Echere, near St Germain.
The event attracted, as he had expected it would, much attention,
not only throughout France, but in several other European countries
as well, so that in the end some of the finest horses to be found
anywhere in Europe were entered for the race.
All went well until a short time before the date of the race, when a
rumour spread mysteriously that a gelding owned by the Hon. Thomas
Wharton had been privately backed very heavily by a number of wealthy
Englishmen.
At first the report was generally disbelieved. Then suddenly it became
known that the famous Duke of Monmouth was to ride the “dark” horse in
the big race, and at once the owners of the foreign favourites became
seriously alarmed.
That they had good ground for their alarm was soon proved by the
duke's steering the English horse to victory, apparently with great
ease.
Immediately, so we are told, Louis XIV. cried out in an access of
enthusiasm that he must obtain possession of Wharton's horse at any
cost. Upon Wharton's informing him that the horse was not for sale,
Louis immediately offered to pay “the animal's weight in gold.”
Thereupon Wharton relented—though not in the way that Louis had
expected him to:
“I will not sell the horse,” he said, “no, not even for its weight in
gold. If, however, your Majesty will do me the honour to accept it as
a gift....”
But so generous a proposal Louis flatly declined to entertain, and
eventually the horse did not change hands at all. For some weeks
afterwards the principal topic of conversation throughout France and
part of England was the great race. Indeed it is probable that this
single race and the talk that followed it served to stimulate in
France a zest for the sport that became far keener than even Louis
XIV. had deemed would ever be possible.
[Illustration: THE DUKE OF SCHONBERG ON A TYPICAL CHARGER OF THE
SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
_After a painting by Sir Godfrey Kneller_]
Among the more prominent of the race horse's progenitors in the
seventeenth century were the Small Bay Arabian, imported by James I.;
Burton's Barb Mare; the Helmsley or Buckingham Turk, owned by the Duke
of Buckingham; and of course Charles II.'s Dodsworth, a well-shaped,
natural Barb, though foaled in England about the year 1670.
Mention has already been made of the Royal Mares, the majority of
which were brought over from Tangiers about the year 1669. Towards the
beginning of Charles II.'s reign the annual charge for the horses of
the king and queen and those of the officers of the royal household
was fixed at £16,640—a sum subsequently denounced by the king's
enemies as “extravagant beyond belief.”
That it was a considerable charge to make all must admit, yet it was
not necessarily extravagant beyond measure. For in an age when outward
ostentation imparted to the court a sort of cachet, an enormous stud
of horses, and those the best obtainable, and in addition innumerable
costly trappings, were in a sense necessities—the guarantee and
stock-in-trade, so to speak, of a court anxious to gain the world's
applause and approval, and indirectly the support of other powerful
European nations should war break out, as in King Charles's reign it
might well have done at almost any time.
Indeed had Charles's court been indifferently horsed, and the king
shown signs of reducing his personal expenditure—in other words, had
the trumpets metaphorically been blown less blatantly—other European
powers would probably have looked up to England with less respect.
Full well Charles must have known this, for in his way he
was thoroughly versed in the art of what is sometimes called
“international finessing.” His Government knew it better still, with
the result that the Government “played up to the king” on the lines
adopted by the king in playing up to the Government—both knew that
extravagance and display formed the note of the age, and both struck
the note firmly with a foot on the loud pedal.
And thus in the reign of the Merry Monarch did the practice that we
now sometimes speak of as “bluffing” develop into a sort of art and
come to be cultivated carefully.
In the autumn of the seventeenth century Newmarket must truly have
been one of the gayest places in England, at anyrate when race
meetings were being held there, for it was not unusual for the entire
court and cabinet to travel down from London on such occasions, when
“jewellers and milliners, players and fiddlers, venal wits and venal
beauties would follow in crowds.”
Upon such occasions the streets, we are told, were made impassable by
coaches and six. “In the places of public resort peers flirted with
maids of honour, while officers of the Life Guards, all plumes and
gold lace, jostled professors in teachers' caps and black gowns, for
from the neighbouring University of Cambridge there always came high
functionaries with loyal addresses, and the University would select
her ablest theologians to preach before the sovereign and his splendid
retinue.”
Whether those able theologians were valued at their true worth may be
gathered from a further description in which we learn that during the
wildest days of the Restoration “the most learned and eloquent divine
might fail to draw a fashionable audience, particularly if Buckingham
had announced his intention of holding forth, for sometimes his Grace
would enliven the dullness of the Sunday morning by addressing to the
bevy of fine gentlemen and fine ladies a ribald exhortation which he
called a sermon.”
The court of King William, however, proved more decent, and then
the Academic dignitaries were treated with marked respect. “Thus
with lords and ladies from St James's and Soho, and with doctors
from Trinity College and King's College, were mingled the provincial
aristocracy, fox-hunting squires and their rosy-cheeked daughters,
who had come in queer-looking family coaches drawn by cart horses
from the remotest parishes of three or four counties to see their
Sovereign.
“The Heath was fringed by a wild, gipsy-like camp of vast extent.
For the hope of being able to feed on the leavings of many sumptuous
tables, and to pick up some of the guineas and crowns which the
spendthrifts of London were throwing about, attracted thousands of
peasants from a circle of many miles.”
CHAPTER IV
Arrival of the Byerley Turk—Roman Catholics forbidden to own a
horse worth over £5—Henry Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, on the manners
of the age—King William III.'s death due to a riding accident—The
Duke of Cumberland's breeding establishment in Queen Anne's
reign—Arrival of the Darley Arabian—The Godolphin Arabian—Royal
Ascot inaugurated by Queen Anne—“Docking” and “cropping”
condemned by Queen Anne; attempt to suppress these practices—The
story of Eclipse—Some horses of romance—Copenhagen and Marengo
Though James II. strove to emulate to some extent the example set
by his lighthearted predecessor on England's throne, he failed
almost from the outset to achieve popularity in any marked degree.
More partial to hunting than to racing, during his brief reign he
nevertheless gave his support to the Turf and strove to encourage
the breeding of blood stock. His interest in the chase, however,
evaporated almost completely as he became more and more engrossed in
the affairs of state.
Whether or no James II. was a finished horseman does not appear, but
it may be there is a hidden significance in the statement to be found
in several histories that he was “the only crowned head known to have
had a surgeon to attend him in the hunting field.”
Nor is there evidence of his having ever attended a race meeting after
his accession, with the exception of an important meeting held at
Winchester in 1685.
The stakes run for at about this time were of small value. Fifty
sovereigns were deemed to be a prize well worth winning, while a purse
of 100 guineas attracted many spectators and large fields and gave
rise to “heated and excited speculation as to the probable results of
the contest.”
At some of the small meetings valuable horses would be entered to run
for a paltry stake of thirty sovereigns, or even for five and twenty,
and it was quite common for insignificant races of this kind to be
“decided by vile persons.”
The weights carried in races run during the latter half of the
seventeenth century were out of all proportion. Thus we read of horses
carrying ten, twelve and thirteen stone in the final heats of short
flat races—in those days almost all races were run in heats. James II.
does not appear to have owned any exceptionally famous horses, nor
does the horse come prominently to the front during his brief reign of
four years.
* * * * *
Two events of national importance took place in 1689: William and
Mary ascended the throne of England, and the famous Byerley Turk, from
which so many of our thoroughbred horses are descended, was brought
over by his owner, Captain Byerley, who later was to serve in King
William's army and fight for him in the battle of the Boyne.
Some say that Captain Byerley had the Turk with him during that
battle, but probably this was not so.
From the standpoint from which we are passing the history of this
country in review, the arrival of the Byerley Turk was an event of
almost as great importance as William and Mary's accession, for as
the popularity of the Turf was still increasing year by year the
importation of so valuable a stallion as the Byerley Turk in a sense
served as a landmark.
And certainly this horse proved to be one of the greatest of all the
sires that were brought over in the seventeenth century. The king, a
good judge of a horse, was much attracted by “Byerley's Treasure,” as
some soon came to call it, and it is known that the king himself owned
at this time some of the finest thoroughbreds, probably, that had ever
been foaled. That he ran horses of his own at Newmarket is beyond
dispute, and the general impression amongst historical writers appears
to be that he ran horses also at several other meetings.
It was while attending a race meeting at Newmarket that the king
commanded the unjust Act to be put into force which rendered it penal
for a Roman Catholic to own a horse worth more than five pounds.
Trustworthy historians tell us that most likely the king would not
have acted so, but for the influence brought to bear upon him by his
queen, who apparently was anxious to vent her spite upon at least one
high-born Catholic by whom she had been affronted.
The ultra-bigoted among the king's subjects rejoiced openly at the
enforcement of the statute, but, whatever reason there may have been
for so severe a measure, the storm of indignation aroused throughout
the country caused the king considerable uneasiness.
As a natural result of the enforcement of the Act many Catholics
presently substituted teams of oxen, and with these clumsy animals
they would drive many miles to attend their church services on Sundays.
How rapidly the Turf must have continued to acquire popularity during
this reign is proved by the fact that ten years after the king and
queen had ascended the throne—namely, in 1699—more race meetings were
held throughout the country than in any previous year in England's
history. In this year, too, the King's Master of the Stud, Robert
Marshall, brought over from Arabia fourteen valuable stallions at a
cost of some £1100, and these were sent direct to Newmarket, where
the king was staying at the time.
* * * * *
That the reports of the evil that is said necessarily to follow in the
train of racing were in William's reign greatly exaggerated, as they
are to-day, may be gathered from a description of the manners of the
age to be found in the diary and state letters of Henry Hyde, Earl of
Clarendon.
Hyde, who died at Cornbury, in Oxfordshire, in 1709, at the ripe age
of seventy-one, tells us that towards the close of the seventeenth
century “a man of the first quality made it his constant practice
to go to church,” and that he could spend the day in society with
his family and friends “without shaking his arm at the gaming-table,
associating with jockeys at Newmarket, or murdering time by a constant
round of giddy dissipation, if not criminal indulgence.”
Other writers make statements practically to the same effect, so it
is safe to infer that the foregoing description forms a true account
of the style of living in the age when the Turf reached probably its
zenith. There are, however, historians who would have us believe
that at no period did horse racing flourish in this country without
bringing with it, as though by natural process, dissipation,
debauchery and general degeneration.
Indeed, as one writer exclaims in an access of unchecked emotion,
“from the period when the noble animal became debased and prostituted
in this country from the purposes for which he was intended by his
Maker—the purposes of war and agriculture—he has gradually sunk, and
those who have helped to debase him have at great length followed his
example.” Out of consideration for this writer's feelings—for it is
to be hoped that by now he has recognised the error of his judgment—I
refrain from mentioning his name.
William met his death through a riding accident. Mounted upon his
favourite “pleasure horse,” described as “a steed of mean stature,
named Sorrel, which had a blind eye,” the king, so it is said, for
some reason lost his temper and struck his mount a violent blow upon
the head with a heavy riding-stick.
Instantly the animal bounded forward, and William, thrown suddenly off
his balance, was unhorsed and fell heavily on his side.
Personally I think the story more likely to be true is that Sorrel
stumbled over a molehill, and, in trying to recover himself, fell on
to his side. The king, thrown violently, received an internal injury
from which he never recovered. Other stories of what took place have
also been handed down to us.
* * * * *
No less liberal a supporter of the Turf than William of Orange was
Queen Anne, his successor. A modern tautological historian quaintly
tells us that “Good Queen Anne had many horses, and they were numerous
and costly,” a phrase reminiscent of the newspaper reporter's
description of a bride's wedding gifts.
That Anne should have loved horses and been an enthusiastic “turfite”
is not to be wondered at when we bear in mind the sort of atmosphere
in which she had been reared.
The Duke of Cumberland's breeding establishment at Cumberland Lodge
in Windsor Great Park—where later on Eclipse and the almost equally
famous Herod were to be foaled—probably was the best known in England.
According to Mr Theodore Andrea Cook, our modern authority upon the
thoroughbred, its origin, and all that has to do with it, the finest
breed of horse ever produced was the result of the cross between the
pure Arab and the animal that was in England towards the end of the
seventeenth century.
The Darley Arabian, foaled about the month of March, 1702, and his
line of distinguished successors, in reality started the long and
baffling process which eventually ended in the production of the
beautifully shaped animal we see in the modern thoroughbred.
Probably less than fifteen hands, the Darley Arabian was a dark bay
descended from the race the most esteemed among the Arabs. Captain
Upton maintains that it was of the Ras-el-Fadawi breed, but the mass
of the evidence obtainable points rather to its having been a pure
Managni.
Certainly the Darley Arabian is one of the most historically
interesting horses that has ever been imported into this country. The
property of John Brewster Darley, Esq., of Aldby Park, near York, it
was bought at Aleppo by Brewster Darley's brother for comparatively
a small sum, and sent to England about the year 1705, where
subsequently it became the sire of Flying Childers and consequently
the great-great-grandsire of Eclipse—three names that stand out in
the history of the horse and his connection with the history of this
country perhaps more prominently than any other three it would be
possible to mention.
Flying Childers, like his sire, was a bay, and Mr Leonard Childers, of
Carr House, near Doncaster, who bred him in 1715, soon afterwards sold
him to the Duke of Devonshire.
About fourteen and a half hands, Flying Childers is described as “a
close-made horse, short-backed and compact, whose reach lay altogether
in his limbs.”
Eclipse, as we shall see presently, was the reverse of this, for he
had great length of waist and stood over much ground.
According to trustworthy statistics, Flying Childers was the fastest
horse that ever ran at Newmarket, while it is stated, on what appears
to be good authority, that no faster horse has ever lived.
[Illustration: FLYING CHILDERS, BRED BY MR. LEONARD CHILDERS IN 1715,
IS SAID TO HAVE BEEN “THE FASTEST HORSE THAT HAS EVER LIVED”]
With only Eastern blood in his veins—his dam, Betty Leedes,
was a descendant of pure Eastern horses that had lived long in
England—Flying Childers' career upon the Turf was truly phenomenal. He
died in 1741.
* * * * *
Another historic sire of the early part of the eighteenth century was
the Godolphin Arabian, called also the Godolphin Barb, foaled in 1724.
His height was about fifteen hands, and his colour a dark brown.
We are told that he was sent to Louis XIV. by the Emperor of Morocco,
but it is known that when he died he belonged to the Earl of Godolphin.
Whether the pedigrees of all modern thoroughbreds can or cannot be
traced back to the Byerley Turk, to the Darley Arabian, or to the
Godolphin Arabian, is still a source of argument, and opinions upon
the point probably are about equally divided.
A romantic story attaches to the Godolphin Barb—to the last he was
pronounced by Lord Godolphin to be an Arabian—inasmuch as he was at
one period of his life driven in a water cart in the streets of Paris.
He died in 1753, and his remains lie under the stable gateway at Gog
Magog, near Cambridge.
* * * * *
After the race meeting known as Royal Ascot had been inaugurated by
Queen Anne, in 1712, the tone of the Turf in England greatly improved.
The rules of racing were revised, and more attention was paid to their
enforcement. Also steps were taken to prevent “undesirable and roguish
persons” from “indulging in their wicked and thievish habits”—in
short, a serious attempt was made to purify the Turf, as the process
is termed now.
To what extent this alleged purification proved effectual we are
not told, but a number of persons who probably were considered
“undesirable and roguish,” were, about the year 1718, ordered to
“abstain from attending the meetings,” a command that most likely
was the equivalent for being warned off the Turf, and apparently
is the first actual allusion to warning off the Turf that is to be
found mentioned in history. It has even been maintained that the
inauguration of the Jockey Club, believed to have taken place in
1750, was prompted by an urgent necessity for a body of responsible
Turf administrators with power “to order thievish persons to keep
away.”
I believe it is not generally known, except among persons versed in
Turf history, that prior to the inauguration of the Derby and the Oaks
it was quite exceptional for three-year-old horses to be raced at all.
Before that time the three-year-old was looked upon more or less in
the same way that to-day we look upon the yearling.
Indeed early in the eighteenth century but few horses were run
when very young. In William and Mary's reign some of the most
important races were won by six-year-olds, and we find allusion to a
six-year-old plate that must have been run for at about this time.
Nearly all the long races were still run in heats, and some of the
horses entered were nine, ten, twelve and even more.
* * * * *
The practice of cropping manes and docking tails was expressly
condemned by Queen Anne, also by one of the Georges, probably George
III. Berenger, in his “History and Art of Horsemanship,” published
in 1771, observes that “the cruelty and absurdity of our notions and
customs in 'cropping,' as it is called, the ears of our horses,
'docking' and 'nicking' their tails, is such that we every day fly in
the face of reason, nature and humanity.
“Nor is the existing race of men in this island alone to be charged
with this folly, almost unbecoming the ignorance and cruelty of
savages, but their forefathers several centuries ago were charged and
reprehended by a public canon for this absurd and barbarous practice.
“However, we need but look into the streets and roads to be convinced
that their descendants have not degenerated from them, although his
present Majesty in his wisdom and humanity has endeavoured to reclaim
them by issuing an order that the horses which serve in his troops
shall remain as nature designed them.”
Only a few years after the publication of the “History and Art of
Horsemanship” a determined attempt was made to suppress, once and for
all time, the practices referred to. For a while public interest was
greatly stirred, and it seemed as though the practices would at last
be put an end to by direct legislation, but eventually undue influence
was brought to bear, and nothing was done.
Indeed, as most of us must have noticed, the practice of docking the
tails of nearly all horses except race horses is so prevalent at the
present time that in many instances the tails are cut to within a few
inches of the root, while some of our ultra “fashionable” horse
dealers go so far as to pluck out most of the hairs left on the stump.
In the west of England the latter trick is indulged in more often than
in the northern counties or the midlands.
* * * * *
Of all the famous sires whose names stand out as household words in
the annals of the horse in history, but few bear comparison with the
world-renowned Eclipse.
[Illustration: MR. O'KELLY'S ECLIPSE, THE MOST FAMOUS THOROUGHBRED
STALLION EVER FOALED 1764
_After the painting by G. Stubbs_]
Bred, as already mentioned, by the Duke of Cumberland, he took his
name from the coincidence that the great eclipse of 1764 was in
progress at the very hour of his birth.
There does not seem to have been anything particularly striking about
the foal's appearance, and certainly none imagined for a moment that
he would be likely to grow into one of the most famous horses, if not
the most famous horse, the Turf has ever known.
Until the age of five, Eclipse was not run in public, but from the
time he won his first race, in May 1769, until his last appearance
upon the Turf, in October 1770, he was never beaten, or near being
beaten. The long list of his triumphs need not be given here, but Mr
Theodore Cook reminds us in his exhaustive work upon this horse that
it was Dennis O'Kelly's son of Eclipse that won the second Derby, and
that out of 127 races, including the first, Eclipse's descendants had
down to the year 1906 furnished no fewer than eighty-two winners.
Eclipse himself was sold as a yearling for less than 100 guineas. Of
his direct descendants, a yearling filly was bought not very long ago
for 10,000 guineas; a race horse in training has fetched £39,375 at
public auction; two sires have each produced stock that has won over
half-a-million sterling; and other horses tracing back to him in the
direct male line have won the “Triple Crown” nine times out of ten and
hold the record for the pace at which the Two-Thousand, the Derby and
the Leger have been run.
Upon one point all trustworthy authorities on thoroughbreds and their
performances, also the principal historians of the Turf, and in
addition the leading “turfites” of our own period, are in agreement,
and that is that since the time of Flying Childers the Turf, the world
over, has not known a horse faster than Eclipse was.
This in itself is exceptional praise, but Eclipse was to add
materially to his extraordinary reputation, for while at stud he
became the sire of 335 winners who between the year 1774 and the year
1796 won close upon £160,000 in stakes alone, exclusive of cups and
plates, and in addition his owner is known to have stated openly that
he was paid for the horse's services as a stallion upwards of £25,000.
Referring again to the later descendants of Eclipse, we find that
in the year 1894 they won between them over £421,400 in stakes, the
number of winners being 827, and the total number of races won, 1469.
Indeed there probably is not any other horse in the world, nor ever
has been, that has been the prime cause of so much money changing
hands.
Perhaps what most attracted attention to Eclipse in his racing days
was the apparent ease with which he won. His stride is said to have
been phenomenal. Did he, during the whole of his career upon the
Turf, ever fully extend himself? The question has many times been
discussed by experts, and the consensus of opinion seems to point to
the conclusion that he never did.
For even after making his greatest efforts he did not seem to be
distressed. The race-loving public seemed almost to worship him at
about the period he reached his zenith, and in the end it was to all
intents impossible to back him.
The interest the king was known to take in Eclipse was very great,
yet probably George III. was at heart less interested in the sport of
racing than any of his predecessors had been.
Thackeray insinuates this in his immortal satire of “The Four
Georges,” and with truth it may be said that of all the great horses
that have figured prominently either directly or indirectly in the
history of this country, Flying Childers and Eclipse take precedence.
* * * * *
Much that has been written on the subject of Queen Anne's alleged
fondness for horses would seem to be based on doubtful knowledge. The
more discriminating among our historians appear to think that too much
importance has been attached to many of the statements.
There are, I believe, letters extant from Queen Anne in which she
talks at length upon the subject of the horses that belonged to her,
but certain documents of the same sort are attributed to her which she
probably did not write.
The King of Denmark, upon one occasion made her a present of twelve
mares carefully chosen by himself, but for the rest the majority of
the stories told of Queen Anne should be accepted with reservation.
Indeed from the middle of the eighteenth to the middle of the
nineteenth century the horse again figured largely in romance, a fact
that may in a measure account for the stories that have been put about
of Queen Anne and her horses.
Smollett is but one of the writers whose works are prolific of
narratives of the kind, and some of these stories from being repeated
so frequently came at last to be believed by a mass of the people.
Thus the tales of Sir Launcelot Graves' adventures, and of the acts
that were attributed to Sir Launcelot's grotesque “mettlesome sorrel,”
Bronzomarte, were believed by some actually to be true.
In point of fact this Sir Launcelot must have been a sort of Don
Quixote who in the reign of George II. deemed it his mission to
roam about England “redressing wrongs, discouraging moral evils not
recognisable by law, degrading immodesty, punishing ingratitude and
reforming society generally.”
Fables were related too of Robert Burns' mare, Jenny Geddes, while the
poets also took possession of the palfrey which belonged to Madame
Chatelet of Circy—the lady with whom Voltaire lived for ten or more
years—and wove around it, also round its mistress, many romantic but
wholly fictitious narratives.
Its name was Rossignol, and, according to one poet at least, Madame
Chatelet fed the creature “on newly picked apricots, gave it milk to
drink, and rode with a silken rein.” Rossignol is mentioned also in
the history of Voltaire's life.
The story of Dr Dove's steed that was called Nobbs has the seal of
Southey upon it, which may account for the animal's having been
dragged into so many romances. At best, however, it was a foolish
beast. Dr Dove, it may be unnecessary to remind the reader, is the
hero of Southey's “Doctor.” The extent to which some of the famous
stories of romance came in course of time to be woven into other
stories is rather remarkable.
Thus we find Dr Dove described in three different stories as three
distinct and different individuals not one of whom is recognisable as
the same person and the original, while the horse, Nobbs, is spoken of
in one story as a bay, in another as a brown, in a third as a black.
Is it possible that the authors of those stories can have read
the original Southey? And if history of such small importance,
comparatively, is thus corrupted, can one place implicit belief in
many of the serious historical narratives? Rather one is tempted to
believe the assertion of Pitt, “the boy Prime Minister,” when he
declared in all seriousness that “nothing is so uncertain as positive
truth.”
* * * * *
Most historians make mention of the charger that carried Wellington so
well at Waterloo; yet the only statement with the impress of truth in
this connection is that the horse died in 1835, aged twenty-seven. It
was Wellington's favourite steed, and its name was Copenhagen. Of
his other horses we read but little.
Marengo, Napoleon's favourite mount, was, according to one historian,
a pure white stallion; according to another a cream-coloured gelding.
In Vernet's famous picture of Napoleon crossing the Alps we are shown
a snow-white horse, and Meissonnier shows us a snow-white horse too,
so most likely this animal actually was quite white. The resting-place
of Marengo's remains is the Museum of the United Services, in London.
[Illustration: NAPOLEON AT WAGRAM
_From the famous painting by Vernet at Versailles_]
In an age when attempts are made to overthrow almost every established
historical record, and when we are even informed quite gravely that
Joan of Arc was not burnt at the stake at all, but that the victim was
some other woman—a lady of rank, who out of compassion for the poor
Pucelle was at the last moment prompted to sacrifice herself in her
place!—it is not surprising that sceptics should exist who would have
us believe that Napoleon's horse was not called Marengo.
What is it, precisely, that prompts this section of modern searchers
after “positive truth” to cast doubts upon so many of the minor
historical incidents? For, as a reviewer recently observed, it is
hardly worth the while of any serious historian to waste time in
refuting such misstatements.
Sir Charles Napier owned a mare that he prized greatly. Its name
was Molly, but it does not appear to have performed any exceptional
feats of prowess. Apparently the only point about it upon which our
historians lay stress is that the animal lived to the age of five and
thirty. As for Lord Nelson's connection with horses, so far as I have
been able to ascertain it was limited to his superstitious belief that
the possession of a horseshoe must bring him luck. At any rate he
always kept at least one horseshoe nailed to the mast of his ship, the
_Victory_.
The story of Siegfried's horse, Grane, is of course well known. In
William Combe's quaint tale of the simple-minded, henpecked clergyman,
Dr Syntax, we have a horse named Grizzle that was “all skin and bone.”
Written in eight-syllable verse, the narrative explains in rather an
amusing way how the eccentric old scholar left home in search of the
picturesque, and Grizzle figures largely in it from beginning to end,
in much the same way that the ill-starred pony, Fiddleback, figures in
Goldsmith's narrative.
[Illustration: WELLINGTON'S FAMOUS HORSE, COPENHAGEN]
CHAPTER V
A retrospective summary—The beginning of the end—Superstition
of the horseshoe—The Bedouins and their horses—Some classic
thoroughbreds of modern times—Horses hypnotised—The Derby and the
Oaks—Horse racing in Mongolia—Conclusion.
With the early years of our reigning sovereign's period the long story
of the horse's progress through history may be deemed to have come
practically to an end.
We have seen how the very early races of Asia, of Africa, and of
Europe were enabled to spread their power, and were assisted in
protecting themselves against the onslaughts of their numerous
enemies, by possessing many horses upon which they could depend
implicitly in the hour of strife.
The Egyptians, Medes, Persians, Syrians, Scythians, Libyans,
Carthaginians, Macedonians, Numidians—all owed their series of
successes in a great measure to the fact that they owned horses when
their antagonists either had none at all, or else only a few, and
those of an indifferent stamp.
Thus through the whole course of history the influence of the horse
can be traced.
Rome, until after the conquest of Gaul, was deemed a weak nation in
some respects, and when we study the history of Rome at about that
period we find the weakness to have been in a measure attributable to
Rome's shortage of horses during the greater part of that long spell.
* * * * *
Coming to what has been termed the Arabian period, history proves
beyond all doubt that the spread of Islam was due partly to the
Arabians having at about that time become possessors of many horses.
Indeed had the Franks not owned a great number of exceptionally fine
horses by about the beginning of the sixth century A.D., who can say
that the Saracens would not, after the year 732 A.D., have vanquished
the larger portion of Western Europe?
Again, what chance of victory would the Normans have had at Hastings
had Harold's forces been mounted on horseback? For when we remember
the valiant way that Harold and his men fought it is easy to believe
that the Normans would have been completely routed had they too been
fighting on foot and not on horseback, in which case the entire
history of this country would very likely have been different.
* * * * *
In the Middle Ages we find the horse playing if possible a more
important part in the making of history than it had done in the
previous centuries, for what would have become of England's power, and
her prestige, had she been deprived of those great war horses and the
almost invulnerable men-at-arms who bestrode them?
England's might spread steadily while the strength and size of her
horses went on increasing, and while the weight of the armour worn by
horses and men grew gradually heavier and heavier.
The limit in weight of armour would appear to have been reached when a
horse became compelled to carry a man and armour that weighed together
between thirty and three and thirty stone.
It was soon after this limit had been arrived at that the era of the
new and armourless cavalry-man mounted on a light and active horse set
in unexpectedly.
Coming to more recent years, what would Marlborough or any other of
the great and successful military leaders have done had they been
deprived of even a portion of their cavalry?
With the outbreak of the Boer War the wise-acres shook their heads,
declaring that in such a country as South Africa the mounted soldier
must prove useless; that the “punitive expedition,” as the campaign
was termed when first war was declared, would be conducted almost
solely by infantry; while reasons innumerable were advanced to prove
the “accuracy” of such wild forecasts.
And now when we look back upon it all we see that the war would most
likely still be dragging its way along had only infantry been employed.
* * * * *
To-day it seems likely, indeed almost certain, that the horse's
influence upon the world's progress—influence that we have traced back
into the dim ages—has actually come to a close.
Evidence that this is so is observable on every side. The discovery of
the strength of steam left the horse still in power, so to speak, for
the locomotive engine drove only coach horses out of existence.
The utility of the electrically driven motor, and of the motor driven
by petrol power, has been proved to be almost ubiquitous, and the
rapidity with which the motor has already ousted horses in almost
every direction is little short of phenomenal.
For the ultra-conservative little body of the community to maintain
that this is not so because it hates to speak or think of
automobiles comes near to being grotesque. We are confronted by hard
facts that cannot be avoided, and whether we like them or not they
nevertheless must force us to realise what is happening.
[Illustration: FLYING DUTCHMAN. FOALED 1846
_From a life-size painting by Herring_]
Shall I be charged with indulging a flight of imagination if I venture
to declare that, before three decades more have passed, the horse will
have become so completely dethroned that it will be with us only for
racing purposes and to assist us in the artificial chase?
If about the year 2030 some student of past history shall come upon
these lines I trust that he will quote them with appropriate comment.
* * * * *
Horses famous in history other than that of the Turf occur but
rarely in the records of the last century or so. Lord Cardigan had a
chestnut thoroughbred that carried him unscathed through the memorable
Balaclava Charge, but there does not appear to be any story of
interest attaching to the animal—it had two white stockings and its
name was Ronald.
I have tried to trace the origin of the superstitious belief that
the possession of a horseshoe must bring luck, but without any very
satisfactory result. The superstition reached its height apparently
towards the middle of the eighteenth century, or a little later, and
by the middle of the nineteenth it was steadily dying out.
A horseshoe nailed to a house door was in the first instance supposed
to keep away witches, a belief which gradually developed into the
supposition that the possession of the shoe would in some way bring
good fortune to the owner. According to several writers, most of the
houses in the west end of London at one time had a horseshoe on the
threshold, and it is said that in the year 1813 no less than seventeen
shoes nailed to doors were to be seen in Monmouth Street alone.
Also it is asserted that as late as the year 1855 seven horseshoes
remained nailed to different doors in that street alone.
* * * * *
In his interesting book, “Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates,” Mr Blunt
has something to say upon the subject of the treatment of horses by
the Bedouins.
The Bedouin, it seems, as a rule does not use either bit or bridle,
but controls his horse by means of a halter to which a thin chain is
attached that passes round the nose.
Apparently stirrups are unknown to the Bedouin, while in place of a
saddle he uses a stout pad made of cotton which he binds on to the
horse's back with the help of a surcingle.
Among the many interesting statements in this book is one to the
effect that the Bedouin cannot ascertain a horse's age by examining
the teeth, and that he has no knowledge of the trick so often resorted
to by unprincipled European horse dealers of making false marks on
teeth.
Many Chinamen, on the other hand, claim to be able to tell a horse's
age from its teeth up to the age of thirty-two.
A point omitted by Mr Blunt is that the Bedouin being, so to speak,
born a horseman, is unable to understand how any race of men can exist
that cannot ride. Were we to be told that a race of men exist who
have never learnt to walk we should be about as much surprised as the
Bedouin is.
Our leading authorities upon the history of the thoroughbred are
unanimous in asserting that until about a century and a half ago the
thoroughbred was unknown in America.
Yet among the famous descendants of the first thoroughbreds imported
into the United States we find horses of world-wide renown, such
animals, for instance, as Iroquois and Foxhall. These two horses are
especially worthy of mention, inasmuch as they achieved success that
came near to being phenomenal.
How remarkable the development of the thoroughbred has been in our
own country may be gathered from our knowledge that whereas the fee
charge for the services of Herod at stud was but ten guineas, and
for Touchstone only sixty guineas, to-day the fee for the use of a
“fashionable” stallion is frequently from 500 to 600 guineas.
The Committee of the House of Lords that met in the year 1873 to
discuss the question of horse breeding did much to encourage the
rearing of the very best stock obtainable. The famous race horse,
Common, by Isonomy out of Thistle, bred in 1888, made his first
appearance as a three-year-old and won for Lord Arlington and Sir
Frederick Johnson—his joint owners—the Two Thousand, the Derby and
the Leger, a performance that at once places him in one of the most
important niches of fame in the latter part of the last century.
Another of the “immortals” who won the three great races is
Gladiateur, a name that recalls to mind a host of thoroughbreds
whose fame will be handed down to posterity—Blue Gown, Blair Athol,
Harkaway, Ormonde, St Gatien, Robert the Devil, Hermit, Persimmon,
Flying Fox, Donovan—the names come tumbling into one's thoughts pell
mell; but as the triumphs of these and many other giants of the turf
of comparatively modern times have been described in detail again
and again in the many volumes devoted to the thoroughbred and his
history, they need not be repeated here.
Yet it is worthy of mention that though some few years ago the famous
thoroughbred sires in this country included 260 direct descendants
of Eclipse, and sixty direct descendants of the Byerley Turk, they
included only thirty-six direct descendants of the greatly glorified
Godolphin Arabian.
* * * * *
I believe I am right in saying that the cream-white horses which,
until comparatively a recent date, were used by the king on state
occasions, are directly descended from the celebrated white horses
formerly in the royal stables at Hanover.
Allusion to these animals recalls to mind a method of controlling
horses that is said to be in vogue still in parts of Austria, where it
is spoken of as “the Balassiren” of horses, and that in reality is a
method of mesmerising horses before shoeing them.
According to Obersteimer, whose words are quoted in Hudson's “Psychic
Phenomena,” the process takes its name from a cavalry officer named
Balassa, who was the first to introduce or to attempt it.
Under the circumstances it is interesting to read that among the early
Egyptians there were men who could, or who professed to be able to,
obtain complete control over horses and other animals by the exercise
solely of will power, and that such men were sometimes called in upon
occasions when a horse had to be bound.
It therefore seems possible that some at least of the horses
sacrificed in the ages before Christ may first have been dazed, if not
rendered unconscious, with the aid of some such agency as hypnotism.
* * * * *
Though the Derby and the Oaks were not inaugurated until the last
quarter of the eighteenth century—when, as Lord Rosebery tells us, “a
roystering party at a country house founded two races and named them
gratefully after their host and his house”—horse racing has now for
many years been popular in nearly every civilised country, while in
some of the uncivilised countries it has long been included among the
favourite pastimes of the people.
Thus Mr C. W. Campbell, H. M. Consul at Wuchow before 1904, mentions
in the report of a journey that he made through Mongolia that the
Mongols are extremely fond of racing. He adds, however, that the
practice of betting upon horse races was almost unknown there at the
time he wrote, and goes on to say that in the Chahar country an ounce
or two of silver—worth at most from two shillings to half-a-crown—was
in some instances the only prize offered, though plenty of the races
were run over a ten-mile course!
According to Mr Campbell, the Derby of Mongolia is held near Urga,
under the direct patronage of the Bogdo. The course is thirty miles in
length, and much of it rough steppe, and “the winners are presented
to the Bogdo, who maintains them for the rest of their lives in
honourable idleness.”
The jockeys are the smallest boys able to ride the distance. “A
saddle or seat aid in any form is not allowed. The jockeys simply
roll up their loose cotton trousers as high as they can, clutch the
pony's ribs with their bare legs, and all carry long whips. The
bridles—single snaffles with rawhide reins—have each a round disc of
burnished silver attached to the headband.”
* * * * *
What will happen in the future when the horse shall have become
practically extinct in the civilised countries? The question is
exercising the minds of many as these lines are being written. There
are some who cling still to the belief that the horse's day is not
over, indeed that it never will be over, but unfortunately they are
visionaries able to believe that which they so ardently wish.
For as Mr W. Phillpotts Williams, the energetic founder of the Brood
Mare Society, pointed out in June last (1908), the idea suggested
recently of giving to farmers in this country a bonus for the
possession of young horses suitable for artillery mounts would never
have the effect of keeping horses in this country. All it would do,
as he says, would be to collect the horses at the English tax-payers'
expense for the foreigner to buy. The horses would be kept by the
English farmer through the risky years of youth, only to be bought,
when matured and fit, by the buyers for the foreign armies.
Give a farmer £5 a year. The foreigner has only to add £5 to the
horse's value, and away it will go. What is needed, as Mr Williams
truly remarks—and none knows better the existing condition of affairs
in this respect at the present time—is drastic action at the ports for
horses bred under such a grant, while in any and every scheme that may
be tried all the government-bred stock ought to be ear-marked and kept
strictly in the country.
One of the Belgian officers who visited England officially some months
ago incidentally mentioned that the Belgian government has dealers
in Ireland who are commissioned to send over to the Belgian army a
large supply of horses annually. “Practically all our army horses are
Irish,” he said. From this statement we may well assume that it would
be possible to breed at a profit, in Ireland, a very large number of
horses annually. Probably no country in the world is better suited
than Ireland for horse breeding. Yet the shrinkage in the reserve
of horses in Great Britain continues practically unchecked, and,
according to statistics, a month or two ago one of the largest of the
omnibus companies in London was selling off its horses at the rate of
a hundred or so a a week!
As a natural result of all this, the demand for oats has recently
fallen by more than twenty per cent. The Board of Agriculture believes
that the retention of colts is all that matters, while the Royal
Commission, to judge from their annual report, apparently labour under
the mistaken impression that the supply of thoroughbred sires must
solve the difficulty of keeping up the supply of horses.
Without in the least wishing to be pessimistic, therefore, one must
look facts in the face, and, looking them in the face, one cannot do
otherwise than admit regretfully enough that the long and glorious
career of the horse in its direct and indirect bearing upon the
development of the world and the progress of civilisation has at last
come somewhat abruptly to a close.
INDEX
Aahmes I., 2
Acheans, the, 15-17, 20, 72
Achilles, 12, 15, 49, 99
Acropolis of Mycenæ, the, 6
Admiral Guarinos and “Trebizond,” 93
Æthe, 9
Agamemnon's mare, 9
Ailments of horses, 146, 213, 214, 221
Alcibiades, 25
Alexander the Great, 54-61
Aligero Clavileno, 133
America, cruelty unknown in, 105;
introduction of thoroughbreds in, 287
Arab horses, a royal gift, 76;
arrival of Markham Arabian, 203, 204;
commencement of fame, 77;
dams, 100;
in the sixth century, 82;
size of, 244;
stallions, 76, 203, 264;
unimportant before time of Mahomet, 87
Arabs, the, 48, 281
Archangel Gabriel, the horse of the, 87
Armenia, 31
Armour, 44, 112, 134, 140, 225, 234
Ascot, 270
Asia Minor, 14, 17
Assyrians, 9, 19-20
Athenians, the, 24, 46, 51
Automobiles, 183, 238, 285
Babylon, horses of, 4
“Balassiren,” the, 289
Barb horses, 178, 183, 184, 230, 243, 244
Barbary horse, the, 181, 216
Barrows in Scotland, 91
Bayard, the Chevalier, 134;
his horsemanship, 135;
mistaken for mythological horse “Bayard,” 136;
his horse Carmen, 135
Bayeux tapestry, the, 108, 110
Bedouins, the, 286, 287
Belgian government, the, 293
Belisarius, the white-faced horse of, 84
Bells as race prizes, 177, 205, 208, 245
Bells of St Paul's melted down, 163
Bevis of Southampton and “Arundel,” 194
Bit, the, 18, 19, 201;
discovered at Athens, 40;
flexible, 18, 40;
found in tombs, 91;
not used by Bedouins, 286;
of the Greeks, 51;
Xenophon's advice on, 45
Black or “great” horse, 233
Black Prince, the, 125
“Black Saladin,” 136
“Blair Atholl,” 288
Bleeding horses, 221
“Blue Gown,” 288
Boadicea, 76, 77
Board of Agriculture, 293
Bogdo of Mongolia, the, 291
Books on horses and hunting, 124, 139, 204, 206, 271
Brazen steed of Cambuscan, the, 132
Breeds, improvement in, by Charles II., 242, 250;
by Cromwell, 243, 244;
by the Duke of Buckingham, 225;
by the Duke of Cumberland, 267;
by the Duke of Newcastle, 227, 251;
by Edward III., 125, 130;
by Elizabeth, 144, 153, 222;
by Henry VIII., 148, 167;
by importation from Italy, 180;
by James I., 202, 221;
by James II., 261;
by King John, 114;
by Mahomet, 87;
by the Persians, 114;
by William III., 263;
Committee in the House of Lords on, 288;
enforced by law, 149, 152;
from 1660-1685, 196;
in Athens, 51;
in England, 108;
in Ireland, 252;
in Middle Ages, 114;
in the sixteenth century, 141;
the seventeenth century, 257;
Cardinal Wolsey's interest in, 143
Bridles, 51, 64, 135, 237, 286, 291
Bronze Age, the, 4, 6, 16, 17
Bronze of Alexander, 61
Bronze horse in British Museum, 64
Brood Mare Society, 292
Bucephalus, 54, 61
“Byerley Turk,” the, 215, 263, 289
Caligula's horse—a priest, 79
Carey's ride, Sir Robert, 197, 198
“Carmen,” 135
Cart horses, 207, 236
Cauldrons and tripods, 11
Cavalry, 16, 22, 23, 46, 199, 283, 292;
Assyrian, 9;
British, 67, 68;
Cromwell's, 233, 234;
described by Julius Cæsar, 70, 71;
first use of, 7;
Greek, 9, 22;
Hannibal's, 64, 65, 69;
Henry II.'s, 111;
Iberian, 65;
Persian, 114;
Richard II.'s opinion of, 131;
superseded chariots, 74;
Theodosius', 81;
twelfth century, 112;
William the Conqueror's, 107, 109
Celts, 23, 72
Chargers, 109, 111, 120, 125, 131, 160, 199, 207, 233, 278, 279
Chariot races, with Æthe, 9;
at the thirty-third Olympiad, 16;
at Delphi, 23;
won by Alcibiades, 25;
of Philip II., 27;
won by Exænetus of Agrigentum, 32;
in first century A.D., 77;
of the Romans, 172
“Charioteer, A finished,” 10
Chariots, 3-21, 24, 65;
Julius Cæsar's description of, 70, 71;
in Ireland, 115;
of the Acheans, 20;
of the Ancient Britons, 20, 68, 69;
Assyrians, 20;
Early Irish, 20;
Egyptians, 3, 14, 20;
Erichthonius, 5;
Gauls, 20, 72;
Greeks, 20;
Hittites, 20;
Libyans, 20;
Persians, 20, 25;
Romans, 72;
Syria, 25;
Thracians, 14, 15;
Vedic Aryans, 20;
with scythes, 25, 26
Charles I. institutes horse racing in Hyde Park, 224;
interest in horses, 233;
picture in National Gallery, 225;
present of horses, 225;
price of horses, 229;
racecourses in time of, 245
Charles II., a good whip, 240;
encouraged horse-breeding, 240;
encouraged use of stage coaches, 240;
horsemanship of, 227-229;
love of horse-racing, 246, 259;
restores horse racing, 245
Charles V. of Germany, 161, 171
Charles VIII. of France, 138, 139
Chaucer, 130-132
Chester Meeting, the, 208;
Charles II. at, 247;
rule for winning owner, 208, 209;
silver bells run for, 208, 245
Circus riding, 7, 80, 184, 185
Cobs, 111, 205, 215
Coins, horses represented on, 26, 27, 65, 75, 103
Colour, attention to, by Elizabeth, 111, 175;
by Henry II., 111;
by John, 111, 112;
by Richard III., 139;
by Romans, 84;
white and dun horses disliked for, work, 67 (see also
“White horses”)
Colton, John, 127
Commandeered horses, 119, 126
“Common,” 288
Commonwealth abolishes horse racing, 241-243;
sets back horse breeding, 241-243, 245;
the race horse extinct under, 245
Cortes' sixteen horses, 169
Coursers, 207
Cream-white horses, the Royal, 289
Cromwell, cavalry of, 233, 234;
favours horse-breeding, 243,
racehorses of, 243
“Cropping,” 271, 272
Cross-country matches, 218
Croton, 8, 22
Crotonians, 8, 22
Croydon Race Meeting, 210, 245
Cruelty, cause of partiality among horses for certain human
beings, 129;
of “cropping” and “docking,” 271, 272;
unknown in America, 105
Cuchulainn Saga, 74
Cumberland, Duke of, 267
Cyrene, 21;
famous for steeds and chariots, 31
“Darley Arabian,” the, 267, 268
David Hume, 173
Dead weight, 220
Declining interest in horses, 182, 183, 291, 292
Delphi, chariot-race at, 23;
museum at, 32
Derby, the, 274, 288, 290;
of Mongolia, 291
Derby, Lord, 11
Diomed, King, 62
“Docking,” 42, 271, 272
“Dodsworth,” 250, 251
Don Quixote, 133, 189-191
Doncaster Race Meeting, 175
“Donovan,” 288
Driving horses, 144
Dun-coloured horses, 15, 17, 24, 67, 95, 96, 137
Echepolus of Sicylon, 9
“Eclipse,” 267, 268, 273-276, 289
Edward I., 120
Edward II., 124
Edward III., 124, 125
Edward VI., 171
Egyptians, 3, 19, 281, 289
Elizabeth, Queen, 111, 144, 153;
at Doncaster, 175;
at Newmarket, 175;
barbs, the special property of, 178;
fondness for the chase, 187;
her stud, 111, 144;
interest in horses, 111, 153, 206;
love of the Turf, 153, 175;
retinue when travelling, 193;
value of horses in reign of, 178
Emperor Justinian, the, 83
Erichthonius, King, 4, 5
Exænetus, 32
Exportation of horses forbidden, 149, 150
Eyes, 55, 139, 214;
china eye, 55;
wall eye, 55, 214, 266
Falkirk, battle of, 120
Fenwick family, the, 231
Ferdinand of Arragon, 158-159
Fictitious horses, 163, 164, 178, 189, 190, 194, 196, 276, 278, 280
Fines paid in horses, 114
Fitz Stephen, 113
“Flying Childers,” 268, 269, 274, 275
“Flying Fox,” 288
Food of horses, 54, 156, 178, 246
Four-in-hand, 5, 7
Foxhounds, first master of, 118
Foxhunting, 118, 161, 162, 179, 180, 253, 260
Francisco Pizarro, 170
Funeral of Frederic Casimir, 36;
Li Hung Chang, 36;
Scythian King, 35;
Tartars, 36
Future of the horse, 183, 284, 285, 291
Gambling, Aristophanes on, 52;
by David Hume, 175;
Elizabeth, 176;
Henry VIII., 162, 163;
Wolsey, 144;
denounced, 180, 211, 212, 265;
Marshal de Bassompierre's love for, 231;
under Charles II., 254;
James I., 205, 210-212
Gauls, the, 20, 70, 72, 75
Geldings, 207
Gentleness of horses, 104
George III., 271
Girth, the, 63
“Gladiateur,” 288
“Godolphin Arabian,” 269, 270, 289
Gradasso and Alfana, 94
“Great Horses,” 111, 127, 141, 206, 232, 237
Greek soldier, 19, 28, 46
Greeks, the, 21;
esteemed horses highly, 29;
had chariots with wheels, 20;
harness of, 51;
hogged manes patronised by, 48;
horse breeding by, 14;
horsemanship among, 7, 9, 16;
horses of, 30, 102;
horseshoes explained to, 73;
race horses kept by, 49;
taught to ride by the Libyans, 17;
used horse-cloths, 19
Haddington Race Meeting, the, 172
Halters, 18, 286
“Hands,” 133, 227, 228
“Harkaway,” 288
Hector, 10
“Helmsley Turk,” 225, 257
Henry II., 110-113
Henry III., 119, 161
Henry VII., 141-147
Henry VIII., 148, 167, 187, 206, 250
Heraclios, 10
“Hermit,” 288
Hiero II. of Syracuse, 31, 37
Higher Criticism, 9
Hittites, the, 6, 20
Hogged manes, 42, 48, 271
Hoof, the, 41, 47, 72, 214
Hooper, Letter of Bishop, 171
Horse-bread, 156, 179, 246
Horse breakers, 41, 146
Horse-cloths, 19, 38, 59, 72, 155
Horse breeding north of the Tweed, 152, 166
Horse doctors, 40;
ignorance of, 213;
veterinary surgeons, 221;
Wolsey as a, 145, 146
Horse fairs organised, 231-232
Horse-fighting in Iceland, 95;
in Siam, 95;
picture of, 96
Horse hoof, 44
Horsemanship, 7, 10, 12, 16;
Alexander the Great's, 57-58;
Bayard's, 135;
Charles II.'s, 226-227, 246-257;
Charles VIII. of France's, 139;
clever riding of Elizabeth, 193;
Duke of Newcastle's, 227-228;
early instruction in, 134;
feats in, 197;
influence of, 183;
James I.'s opinion on, 206-207, 217;
James II.'s, 261;
John Selwyn's, 188;
of Anglo-Saxons, 108;
of Bedouins, 287;
of Earl of Shrewsbury, 107;
of the Gauls, 70;
of Irish, 166-167;
Mary Queen of Scots', 192;
of the Scotch, 167;
Spaniards', 224;
Swedes', 83;
training in, 29, 32;
Wolsey's, 141-143
Horse racing, at Chester, 208-209, 245, 247;
at Croydon, 210;
at Newmarket, 124, 175, 205-209, 217, 222-224, 247, 248, 254, 258,
259, 263-265;
at Salisbury, 177;
at Smithfield, 113;
at Winchester, 262;
attack on judge of, 219;
between Duke of Suffolk and the Seigneur Nicolle Dex, 154-156;
Charles II.'s love for, 246-257;
Commonwealth suppresses, 241-242;
denounced, 180-181, 211, 212, 219, 241-243, 265, 266;
Philip of Macedon's devotion to, 27;
excess of, 176, 179;
first allusion to wagers on, 11;
first authentic record of, 75, 76;
first taught to the Romans, 37;
fixtures abandoned under Commonwealth, 219;
Hengist and Horsa's interest in, 91;
in Athens, 51;
in France, 255, 256;
in Holland, 226;
in Hyde Park, 224, 225;
in Ireland, 252;
in Scotland, 172-174;
in fourteenth century, 133;
in time of the Romans, 76, 172;
in time of Wolsey, 144-145;
inaugurated, 16;
James I.'s love for, 202;
Mongols fond of, 290;
on the ice, 211;
popular pastime, 52, 53, 210, 219, 251, 264, 290;
Queen Anne's love for, 267;
revival of, 246;
ruins breeding
of “great horses,” 232, 233;
rules revised, 270;
under Edward II., 124;
under Elizabeth, 144;
Henry III., 116, 117;
Henry VIII., 154-160;
Richard I., 113;
Richard II., 133;
under William III., 263, 264
Horse rearing, 52, 114, 125, 130, 143, 144, 148-154, 165-166
Horses, ailments of, 146, 213-214, 221;
annual charge for Charles II.'s, 257;
antiquity of, 1;
at Crecy, 125, 126;
average life of, 53;
bleeding of, 221;
breeds, 62;
vicious and gentle, 104;
commandeered by kings, 119, 126;
courage of 105, 106;
cream white, 289;
dapple, or dun-coloured, 15, 17, 24, 67, 95, 96, 137, 138;
declining interest in, 182, 183, 291-292;
defects of, 47;
divination of the future attributed to, 78;
English, the best, 230;
exportation of, forbidden, 149, 150, 152;
eyes, 55, 139, 214;
flat-nosed, 24;
fleabitten, 50;
food of, 54, 156, 178, 179, 245, 246;
fossilised remains of, 4, 51;
“great horses,” 111, 127, 141, 206, 232-237;
Herodotus on, 24, 31;
Homer on, 7-18, 28, 122;
Horace on, 72;
ill-treatment of, 104-105, 129, 271, 272;
influence of on history, 96-97, 103, 104, 183, 281-284;
in romance, 161-164, 178, 189, 190, 194-196, 276-278, 280;
in the sixth century, 82;
Joan of Arc's, 137, 138, 279;
likes and dislikes of, 129;
“leeching,” 221;
longevity of, 102;
management and care of, 14, 215;
Mary, Queen of Scots', 192;
monuments erected to, 32,61;
mythological, 10, 62, 94, 97-100, 136;
naming, 157, 194;
North-American Indians' terror at sight of, 171;
of Abraham, 1, 2;
Acheans, 15-17;
Agrigentum, 32;
Anatolia 196, 281;
Anglo-Saxons, 88-90;
Armenia, 31;
Athenians, 24;
Babylon, 4;
Bedouins, 286-287;
Britain, 17, 24;
the Egyptians, 2, 3, 19, 281;
Erichthonius, 4, 5;
Flanders, 141;
France, 141;
Friesland, 141;
Gauls, 70, 72, 75;
Germany, 141;
Greece, 14, 15, 29, 30, 48-49, 102;
Hittites, 6;
Ireland, 17, 74-75, 115, 252;
Libyans, 4, 16, 17, 48, 54, 103, 104, 281;
Macedonians, 46, 281;
Niseans, 31, 34;
Numideans, 64, 281;
Parthians, 53, 66;
Persians, 31, 33, 114-115, 281;
Romans, 70, 78, 80, 102, 282;
Russians, 123;
Scandinavians, 95;
Scythians, 34-36, 281;
Sicilians, 27-28;
Solomon, 6;
Spain, 53, 65, 66, 75, 168, 171;
Swedes, 83;
Syria, 196, 281;
Tartars, 123;
Thessaly, 21, 50, 54, 61, 62;
Thracians, 12, 14, 15;
Trojans, the, 4, 28;
Turkish, 215, 243, 244;
Philip II.'s love for, 27;
pictures of, 61-62, 137, 225, 279;
points of, 40, 41, 47, 50, 66, 68, 80, 140;
prices of, 55, 125, 177, 178, 203, 214, 229, 235, 274;
represented on coins, 26-27, 65, 75, 103;
on vase painting, 51;
on panels in Ireland, 115;
sacrificed, 33-36, 78, 97, 104;
scarcity of at Crecy, 125;
among the Romans, 282;
Shakespeare's, 181, 182;
shire horses, 140, 144;
Spanish Armada, 222;
“starling-coloured,” 53;
starvation of, 146, 147;
stolen, 214;
strength of, 105, 111, 112;
superstitions about, 78, 79, 121, 123, 213;
three-years-olds, 271, 288;
trained to music, 8;
transported to Cuba and Hispaniola, 169;
unshod, 24;
war horses, 104, 109-111, 131, 136-138, 199, 200, 283, 292;
wealth expressed by number of, 81;
with white star, 17, 54
Horse thieves, 120
Hunters, 183, 207
Hunting 118, 161, 162, 179, 180, 187, 192, 218, 241, 253, 261
Huntingdon, race at, 220
Hyde Park Meeting, 224
“Hyksos, The,” 2
Hypanis, the (River Bug), 21
Hyperenor, 12
Hypnotism of horses, 289-290
Iceni, the, 75, 117
Ill-treatment of horses, 100, 105, 129, 271, 272
India, 36
Influence of the horse on history, 96, 97, 103, 104, 183, 281-284
Ireland, 17, 18, 74, 75, 115, 116, 252
Iron Age, the, 15, 17, 19, 22
“Iron Horseman, An,” 227
“Isokelismos,” 30
James I., at Lincoln, 219;
encouraged gambling, 210;
improvement of horses under, 203;
liked tall horses, 215;
love of racing, 202, 209, 210;
made Newmarket “a royal village,” 205;
present of horses from Naples, 207;
Royal studs of, 207;
trained his horses, 220;
wrote on horses, 220
James II., as a sportsman, 261;
at Winchester races, 262
Joan of Arc, 137, 138, 279
Job, the steed of, 5
Jockey Club, the, 174, 270
Jockeys, 113, 209, 220, 253-254, 265, 291
John Selwyn, 187, 189
Julius Cæsar describes battle, 70, 71;
horses in time of, 105;
reference to the Iceni, 75
“Kantake,” 21
King Arthur, 82
King John, 111, 113
King's Master of the Stud, 264
“Lamri,” 82
Law commandeering horses for kings, 119;
forbidding exportation of horses, 149-154;
forbidding Roman Catholics to keep valuable horses, 264;
maintenance of horses, 151-154
“Leger,” the, 288
Libya, 16
Libyans, the, 4, 7, 17, 20, 21, 29
Lincoln Race Meeting, 219
Lord Arundel (1377), 133
Lord Cardigan's “Ronald,” 285
Lord Herbert, 179, 180
Louis XIV. arranges races at St Germains, 255, 256
Love for horses, Adhils', 83;
Alexander the Great's, 59;
Anne's, 267, 276;
Boadicea's, 77;
Charles II.'s, 246-257;
Elizabeth's, 187;
Gradasso's, 94;
Henry VIII.'s, 165;
Mahomet's, 88;
Mary Queen of Scots', 189;
of the ancients, 97;
Richard II.'s, 128;
Roderick's, 93;
William the Conqueror's, 108;
Xenophon's, 38, 48
Macedonian soldier, 19
Macedonians, the, 46
Mahomet, encourages horse breeding, 86;
goes to heaven on Alborak, 89;
the mule of, 87
Marathon, 46
Mares' milk as food, 37
Mares, the Royal, 250, 257
“Marocco,” 184, 185
Marquis of Mantua, 157
Mary, Queen of Scots, good horsewoman, 192;
her horses, 192;
love of horses, 191
Mary II., 153
Maximilian, the Emperor, 141, 142
Menelaus, 10
Menesthus, 10
Mesmerising horses, 289, 290
Mexico, 169, 170
Monmouth, the Duke of, 255-257
“Morocco Barb,” 225
Mounting, 43, 59, 64, 66
Mounting block, 64
Mycenæ, the, 6
Mycenean Greeks, 20;
period, 6, 19
Mythological horses, 10, 62, 94, 97-100, 136
Naming horses, 157, 194
Napier's “Molly,” Sir Charles, 279
Napoleon I.'s horses, 200;
“Marengo,” 279
Neolithic Period, 4
Netherby races, 76
Newcastle, the Duke of, 226-228, 235, 247, 249, 257
Newmarket, 144;
at end of seventeenth century, 258, 259;
Charles II.'s favourite meeting, 247, 248;
described by Shadwell, 251, 252;
early history of, 222;
Edward II. stops a tournament at, 124;
Elizabeth at, 175;
famous flat race arranged at, 220;
first important races at, 223;
fox hunt near, 253;
historic race meeting at, 248;
horses of, 117, 118;
Iceni at, the, 75;
incident at, 254;
James I. present at, 206, 209, 217;
Marocco, foaled at, 184;
rebuilding of race stand at, 247;
Spanish Armada horses at, 222, 223;
the royal village, 205;
under William III., 263-265
Newspaper account of races, the first, 224
Normans, 20
Northern America, no horses in, 168
Nose bands, 18, 286
Numidians, the, 64, 281
Oaks, the, 290
O'Byrnes, the, 127, 128
Oliver Cromwell, 233, 234
Olympic games, the, 25, 27, 31, 32, 37
O'Moores, the, 127, 128
Opposition to coaches and railways, 237, 238
“Ormonde,” 288
Oxen used by Roman Catholics, 264
Pale, the, 127
Parthenon frieze, the, 29, 30, 39, 64
Patroclus, 12
Pausanias, 44
Pedigree through dams, 100, 101
Pegasus, 16, 98
Peloponnesian War, 24
Persia, 36, 37, 43
Persians, the, 20, 31, 33, 36, 46
Persimmon, 288
Phallas, 10
Phrenicus, 37
Pictures of horses, 61, 62, 137, 225, 279
Pictures of races, 220
Plinth of North Cross, Ireland, 115
Points of horses, 40, 41, 47, 50, 66, 68, 80, 140
Priam, 10
Prices of horses, 55, 125, 177, 178, 203, 214, 229, 235, 274
Prizes, 11, 111, 205, 208, 245, 254, 255, 262, 275, 291
Pylian breed, the, 10
Queen Anne, a “turfite,” 267;
condemned tail-docking, 271;
founded Ascot, 270;
love of horses, 265, 276;
revived racing rules, 270
Queen Elizabeth, 111, 114, 153, 175, 178, 187, 193, 206
Racecourses as pleasure grounds, 245
Race horses, 33, 49, 160, 199;
ages of, 271;
development of, 173, 202-205, 289;
Elizabeth's interest in, 144;
Edward III.'s interest in, 124;
fondness of the Greeks for, 53;
from Spanish Armada, 222, 223;
James I.'s love for, 205, 206, 208;
naming, 157;
nineteenth century, 288;
present to King Athelstan of, 91;
present to Edward III., 125;
present to Henry VIII., 158;
reinstated by Charles II., 245;
Richard I.'s, 113;
Richard II.'s, 129;
sold at a loss, 242;
tails of, 272;
training of, 156
Rameses, 2
Rarey, 12
Richard I., 111, 113
Richard II., 128-130, 246
Richard III., 138, 139
Riding bareback, 29, 38, 59
Riding masters, 41
Riding matches, 154, 176, 218, 220
“Roan Barbary,” 128, 129
“Robert the Devil,” 288
Roderick and “Orelia,” 93
Roger de Bellesne, Earl of Shrewsbury, 107
Roguery on the Turf, 174, 175
Roland and “Veillantiff,” 92, 93
“Rowley, Old,” 246;
Rowley Mile, 247
Royal Ascot, 270
Royal cream-white horses, 289
Royal Mares, the, 250, 257
Royal Stud, 148, 149, 207, 216
Russia, 123
Saddle-cloths, 59, 63, 82, 155
Saddles, 59;
among early Greeks, 38;
among the Romans, 63, 81;
in Ireland, 110;
in races, 155;
of the Mongols, 291;
of the Normans, 110;
scorned, 40, 64;
used by Angles, 88, 89
“Saga of Burnt-Njal,” the, 95
“St Gatien,” 288
St George's Cup, 208
Salisbury, race gathering at, 177
Sarmatian, 44
“Savoy,” of Charles VIII. of France, 138, 139
Scandinavian barrows, 91
Scandinavians, the, 95
Scythians, the, 34, 36, 281
Seius' horse, 27
Severus Alexander, 75
Shakespeare's horses, 181-183
“Shibdiz,” 82
Shields, 20, 115
Shire horses, 140, 144
Shoes, ancient objection to, 42;
found in tomb of Childeric, 42, 83;
in lieu of rent, 119;
leather caps used by Romans as, 73;
made of reeds, 42;
regularly used, 83;
silver and gold, 73;
sixteenth-century, 146, 155;
superstitions about, 280, 286
Shortage of horses, 125, 282
Sicilian coinage, 27
Sicilians, 31, 36
Sicily, 22
Sigynnæ, the, 15, 24
Simo, 38, 50
Simon de Montfort, 118
Sir Eustace de Hecche, 120
Smerdis, death of, 37
Solomon, 6
Spanish Armada survivors, 222
Spartans, the, 25
“Spumador,” 82
Spurs, in time of Henry II., 113;
Irish, 110;
John Selwyn's, 188;
of “Blanche Rose,” 155;
of the Greeks, 57;
of the Wife of Bath, 131;
of the Romans, 65
Stage coaches, 238-240
Stakes, at Newmarket, 254;
in Mongolia, 291;
Louis XIV.'s Plate, 255;
St George's Cup, 208;
silver bells as, 177, 205-208, 245;
snaffle as, 177;
under James II., 262;
won by descendants of Eclipse, 291;
won by Seigneur Nicolle Dex, 154, 156
Stallions, adapted for coach use, 240;
Arabian, 76, 203, 204, 264, 267-270, 289;
celebrated seventeenth-century, 257;
celebrated eighteenth-century, 267-270, 273-276;
colour of, 111;
Dutch purchase racing, 226;
Eastern breed of, 114;
fed on eggs and oysters, 178;
importation of, 76, 114, 116, 148, 203, 204, 207, 212, 226, 264;
law against exportation of, 166;
shire, 144;
Spanish, 107, 227, 230;
thoroughbred, 288
Staying power, 105, 111
Stirrup leathers, 228
Stirrups, 40;
in Ireland, 110;
regularly used, 88;
standing in, 220;
unknown to Bedouins, 287
Stud, 274, 288;
Charles II.'s, 250, 257;
Cromwell's, 243;
Cumberland Lodge, 267;
Duke of Newcastle's, 251;
Edward III.'s, 125;
Elizabeth's, 144;
established by William the Conqueror, 114;
King's Master of the, 264;
Marquis of Mantua's, 157;
modern forms, 116;
Royal stud, 148, 149, 207, 216;
Wolsey's, 144
“Sumpter horses,” 193
Superstitions, 78, 79, 121, 123, 213-215
Superstitions about horseshoes, 280, 286
Tarentum, 22
Tartars, the, 36, 123
Theobald's, race meeting at, 245
Thessalians, the, 21
Thessaly, 50, 54, 61, 62
Thetford Race Meeting suppressed, 219
Thomas à Becket, 113
Thoroughbreds, 114, 197, 199, 230, 251, 274, 275, 288, 293;
development of, 288;
Dodsworth included in royal stud, 250;
English, introduced into France, 231;
fed on eggs and oysters, 78;
in Richard II.'s reign, 130;
introduced into America, 287;
management of, 215;
Mr T. A. Cook on, 267;
nineteenth century, 288;
of William III., 263;
sold at a loss, 242
Thracian horses, 14
Thracians, the, 12, 14, 122
Three-year-olds, 271, 288
Thurii, 37
Trainers, 156, 220, 221, 230
Trappings, 13, 14, 34, 159, 237, 257
Trickery in racing, 174, 176, 205, 209, 270
Tripods, 11
Trojans, the, 4, 28
Troy, 28, 29
Tryers and gentlemen tryers, 177, 218, 220
Turf, the, 145, 157, 173-176, 205, 231, 245, 251, 255, 261, 264, 265,
273-275, 288
Turkish horses, 215, 243, 244
Two Thousand, the, 288
Valerian, the Emperor, 43
Varni, the, 89
Vedic Aryans, the, 20
Veneti, the, 36, 101
Verus, the Emperor, 80
Veterinary surgeons, 221
Vicious breeds, 104
“Villiers Arabs,” 204
Wagers, at Newmarket, 205;
between Charles II. and Sir Robert Carr, 254;
by David Hume, 174;
first allusion to, 11;
in reign of Henry II., 113;
in reign of Henry III., 116, 117;
on flat racing, 218;
on Lord Haddington's race, 220
“Warned off the Turf,” 174, 270
Washing horses' legs, 45
Wealth expressed by number of horses, 81
Weights, 262
Wellington's “Copenhagen,” 278, 279
Wheels of chariots, 20
White animals sacred, 33, 36
White hoof, a, 214
White horse, the, 21, 31, 32;
banner of, 69, 91, 92;
beloved of the gods, 33, 122;
criminal act to wound a, 123;
divination by sacred, 79;
Joan of Arc's, 137, 138;
Mahomet's Alborak, 89;
Napoleon's, 279;
not liked for work, 67;
of Chinghas Khan, 121-123;
of the Scandinavians, 95;
of Selene, 98, 99;
sacrificed, 33, 36, 50, 78, 123;
superstitions about, 123;
stud of Richard III., 139;
“White Surrey” of Richard III., 139;
“White Turk,” of Cromwell, 279
William the Conqueror, 97, 103, 108-110, 114
William III., Acts against Roman Catholics possessing horses, 264;
for development of horses, 153;
court of, 259;
interest in horses, 263-266;
statue in Dublin, 236, 237
William Stephanides, 110
Winchester Meeting, the, 262
Windsor Great Park, 267
Windsor, stud at, 125
Wolsey, Cardinal, 141-145
Wooden Horse of Troy, the, 28
Xenophon's advice to riders, 44, 45;
early life of, 45;
kindness to horses, 38, 49;
rules, 39, 40
Xerxes, procession of, 34, 50
Zeus, car of, 34
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