Chapter VIII: The Soldier Horse

[Sidenote: Regular cavalry]

A habit of enlisting for campaigns has given me some desultory training with British irregular and auxiliary forces--Horse, Foot and Guns. Without the slightest pretensions as a soldier I have enjoyed, on active service, watching the military practice in horsemastership in its amusing contrasts with the methods of frontier life.

It seems to me that the British and especially the Irish horse-breeding, and the national amusements for mounted men--hawking, stag-hunting, fox-hunting, steeplechases, flat races, and polo--for example, have given to British mounted troops the basis of a horsemastership which has been gratefully copied by civilized armies and disabled the mobility of all alike. The cult of the pleasure horse has ousted the old sober methods of war horsemanship. This may in part account for the chasing of the Spaniards and Portuguese by their lively American colonists, of the British by the {223} Argentines, Americans and Afghans, of the French by the Mexicans, of the Germans by the Damaras, of the Italians by the peoples of Erythrea and Cyrenaica, and of the Russians by the Japanese. Three hundred thousand of my countrymen spent three-and-a-half years in persuading fifty-five thousand Boers to accept full compensation for their losses. This episode filled with unholy joy the nations which had not lately been whipped by mere outsiders because they had prudently abstained from war. One does not recall, however, so very many recent campaigns in which barbaric horsemanship has been put to shame and flight by any regular cavalry.

So, if my adventure in uncouth criticism bears incidentally upon British methods, its motive is merely to discover why civilized mounted troops are not quite a success in dealing with irregulars of the open range. If Army methods are really the best, they should have an unbroken chronicle of victory. If range methods are really the best, the military art of horsemanship needs thinking over by every civilized horseman who loves his country.

If the defeat of civilized armies is not explained by their horsemastership, it is not less in need of explanation.

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[Sidenote: Armies]

I hold it as an article of faith that the British Army is not excelled, man for man, by any in Europe, but does greatly surpass all others in its power of adapting itself to new conditions, maintaining its powers at great distances from its base, and perfecting in its troops the highest ideals of manhood. And yet in all armies men are taught to obey before they think, and, thought being secondary to discipline, is rather apt to lag. The discipline which creates a mob into a weapon tends to disable men in army trades other than that of fighting, so that the departmental or thinking departments are less efficient than the executive. Character is trained to a supreme degree, and the military courts are cleaner, quicker and more direct than the civil in doing justice. Yet intellect takes its chance of surviving discipline. In a world which is managed by men too old to be receptive of new thought, the person with original ideas is looked upon as a public enemy, and the Army is always certain he must be an awful bounder. The aeroplane, for example, was more important as a military idea than anything since the invention of gunpowder, but the inventors and manufacturers in several countries went bankrupt while they waited in vain for orders from. {225} the armies. The German War Office was the first to come to their rescue.

It is only by such reasoning as this that one understands why mounted soldiers are given breeches with buckskin straps to help them to grip a saddle specially treated with beeswax to make it slippery. Constructive thought would remove the strapping to make the breeches slippery as the saddle; or, if a grip is wanted would retain the strapping, and roughen the saddle seat and panels by using the leather inside out, or replacing the surface with buckskin.

[Sidenote: The hunting-seat]

Early in the eighteenth century British racing and fox-hunting became fully organized sports which needed bent-leg riding and a slippery, light saddle. The British Army was not officered by professional soldiers, but by sportsmen who bought commissions. The training of officers was in the hunting field, and the old straight leg, weight-distributing war saddle gave place to something really up-to-date. This was the military saddle, too cumbersome for running or jumping, too small for weight-distribution, and therefore useless either for sport or war.

Meanwhile the Riding Masters who were professional soldiers, and ceased to learn when {226} they began to teach, wrought with fanatical zeal to compel straight-leg riding on a bent-leg saddle, and so got a magnificent tally of ruptures and sore tails. In 1805 Prussian instructors were brought to England to enforce the straight-leg seat on the bent-leg saddle. It is only in the twentieth century that this wonderful kidney-crusher military seat has been mercifully abandoned. The army has adopted the hunting seat, and one reads the last word in Major Birch's book on "Modern Riding."

[Sidenote: Horsemanship for war]

"The rough-riders from the Royal Artillery Riding Establishment, using the hunting seat, sat perfectly without either reins or stirrups over a five-foot six-inch rail--one horse jumping six feet--besides other formidable obstacles, which proves that no better seat could be wanted for practical work."

The practical work, one notes, for a civilized Army, is jumping!

What is the horse to be used for? Pleasure?

By all means let the high-strung, highly-fed, massaged, hospital-bred, courageous, and powerful but exceedingly delicate blooded horse be used for pleasure, and for pleasure only. One does not use a racing yacht for cruising, because she is too fragile, or for cargo because {227} she has no stowage. Use the blooded horse for running and jumping, with a day's rest following each day's sport. It does not matter if the rider's weight is concentrated on the space of a postage stamp. It only matters that the equipment be light for high speed, and slippery to throw the rider in case he is not wanted on the saddle.

[Sidenote: Mobility]

What is the horse to be used for? War? Then if we love our country let us forget tradition, take a rest from filling up returns, and set ourselves to the exercise of human reason until we find out what we really want. Why do we use the horse in war? To carry men, to haul guns, and draw supplies. Why do we use the horse for transport? To quicken the pace, and ease the labour of men. Why do we need this mobility? In order to concentrate troops at distant points where they were not expected. Mobility is not jumping on Germans, but the long, swift march that covers and supplies the advance or the retreat which shall decide the issue. Mobility may include the getting and rendering of vital news, the sudden seizure of a strong position, or even the special privilege and glory of shock action.

Those of us who indulged ourselves in the {228} habit of thinking, knew many years ago that mechanical transport would carry and haul men and supplies much quicker than horses could upon a highway. But we also observed that war destroys the road, and that campaigning is a cross-country exercise wherein the horse can hold his own against the car.

In the same way we knew as far back as 1896 that aerial warfare would evolve in three phases: reconnaissance, fleet engagements, and occupations in force with aerial transport.

Yet, while the car and the aircraft have been foreseen by everybody who took the trouble to think, we have to deal in fact with present needs for troops transported by horses, for whom the word mobility means rapid and sustained haulage and carriage of weight. It is not the art of jumping hedges, because they do not exist in any probable terrain of war.

What then, are the factors for mobility?

[Sidenote: The pleasure horse]

BREEDING. In the throes of war for our existence, while every luxury must be dispensed with and every available man called to the colours, the British Government is solicitous to preserve hunting and racing. The authorities would preserve the trade of horse-breeding lest there be scarcity of army remounts. Let us breed pleasure-horses, they {229} tell us, in order to secure a stock of working horses. So let us encourage yachting to give us ships for cargo. Let us breed guinea-pigs as material to coin guineas. "If a yard of soap will make a flannel waistcoat for a pig, how far is it from the dome of St. Paul's to Christmas Day?" So mental confusion verge upon madness.

The mettle of our pastures, and perfect artistry in selective breeding, have given to the British Isles the leadership of nations with almost every type of domestic livestock. But the high specialization of each type for a single function disables it for every other use. We have never bred a horse specialized for that single purpose of rapid and sustained marching, which is mobility. Our pleasure horses, excellent for sport, are expensive, delicate, unsound--lacking in endurance when we put them to serious work. As yeast is to dough, blood is to any livestock, and there must be thoroughbred blood in any working horse who has to face the terrors of modern war; but if there is any guidance in the origin and natural history of horses, the one type to give mobility to an army must be bred away from all green grasses and soft ground, on those arid plains which alone can make sound limbs, hard hoofs, {230} strong teeth and high endurance. It would be most reasonable to breed from Duns.

[Sidenote: Breeding the war horse]

As the Royal North-West Mounted Police of Canada have double the mobility of any regular troops in the world, their system of getting horses may be worth considering. Certain ranches of Western Canada have imported British thoroughbred studs, and bred from range mares a strain known as the Broncho. Averaging fifteen hands two inches, and 1,025 pounds in weight, these gelded horses and mares are raised on range grass under range conditions, broken at the ranches and bought for the Mounted Police at contract rates.

Ranches in any arid lands of the Empire such as Southern Alberta, South Central British Columbia, Western South Africa, or Australia, would supply a stock for the army much sounder, and more enduring than any horses which can possibly be bred on soft ground or green grass.

[Sidenote: Management]

MANAGEMENT. Our analysis of the stable showed the closed shed as a forcing house for disease germs, and the metalled floor as preventing a horse from resting on his feet. To copy the natural conditions of healthy range life the building needs the dry floor which {231} involves a roof, earth standings on which a horse can rest, and a wind screen to keep out bad weather. In practice this open earth-floored shed kills out the germs of disease, rests the horse, and so prevents or cures the maladies of the feet and legs which disable indoor stock. But, while the horse is fairly sound so soon as one adapts his home to the conditions required for his health; no indoor life trains either horses or horsemen for the mobility needed in campaigns.

The civilized stable management with grooming and massage, clipping and singeing, docking and trimming of tails, hogging the manes, and all the practice which involves the use of clothing is excellent with the indoor horse. In the same way a hospital is good for the sick, but not the sort of gymnasium which makes men strong and hardy. The treatment makes a horse glossy and beautiful, but sensitive rather than robust. It does not make the horse an outdoor person able to face bad weather, rough feeding and long marches. For that we must consider outdoor management as applied to an outdoor horse.

[Sidenote: Indoor management outdoors]

The British South African Field Force lost 340,000 horses, some of them civilized, others from wild ranges. I was serving in an irregular {232} unit when a bunch of Argentine remounts arrived in camp. They showed signs of exhaustion from their voyage, but had not been pastured after their landing in Africa. The grass surrounding our camp was fairly good, free from disease, and secure from attack by day. So the officer commanding shackled the remounts in our lines, and I was punished for feeding mine with grass. There was no hay, so the horses had straight oats. As the sky cleared or clouded the weather was frosty or snowy, so the horses were blanketed. The blankets were always sodden except when they stiffened with ice. On the fourteenth day the last of these horses died. The whole was a beautiful exhibition of stable management applied to outdoor horses without a stable. I do not remember an instance of army authorities consulting range horsemen as to the management of range horses on any range. Neither has it occurred to any army that the outdoor horseman may have useful knowledge concerning the outdoor horse. And yet the sacrifice of 340,000 horses might have aroused misgivings as to the Army system of management.

[Sidenote: Pastured horses]

I am writing from practical experience in stating that in the British Army authority {233} exists for billeting horses in pasture with half rations of forage at the discretion of the officer commanding the unit. Pastured horses condition very rapidly, but soften a good deal in a wet season, so that one needs as usual to supple the harness with oil, and also to provide some sheepskin for padding of parts which cause chafing. To meet the need of having horses instantly available, I used two fields, the richer for night pasture, the poorer for my horse lines and drill ground. As horses in pasture grow wild and difficult to catch if chased about by recruits, I had a rope tied to a tree near the corner of the field, and held outward by two men, forming an enclosure into which the herd was drifted for catching after the night's rest. Drifting and catching needed no more time than the work of unshackling on the lines.

The system of pasturing by night ensures a clean bed for horses to lie down, whereas the lines, however carefully cleared of manure, are very soon fouled by staling, while the ground is trampled into mud or dust. Old horse lines make most dangerous ground for camps long after the visible dirt has been grassed over. The insects and germs from the horse lines are liable to affect the health of troops.

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[Sidenote: Management outdoors]

Except under management of most unusual skill, any assemblage of horses is liable to stampede. I note this in a camp which has lost two men killed and one wounded, with two horses killed and two wounded within the week, fair evidence that stampedes are dangerous. But the danger is greatest where horse lines and camp lines are set close abreast, so that, if the horses stampede, the men are trampled to death. A stampede from herd or pasture is seldom the cause of serious accidents.

Docking or trimming tails, and hogging manes are hardly wise outdoors, considering that the mane and tail are special devices of nature to keep off flies. As horse lines are an excellent breeding ground for flies, it is precisely on these lines that manes and tails are needed.

Further, it seems unwise to remove with a brush that natural oil in hair and skin which preserves a horse from being left stark naked to the rain. The grease which merely clogs the brush, was needed by the horse, and if it is taken away it should be replaced. Horses if groomed outdoors should be groomed and oiled so that the hair may shed rain and keep the skin dry.

It is argued that the massage action of good {235} grooming stimulates the supply of oil to the skin and hair; but from careful observation I think this applies rather to the long and severe grooming of stabled thoroughbreds than to that lick and a promise which horses in the lines actually get in bad weather. Just enough grooming is done to remove the oil, but not enough to stimulate the supply.

I note that the more disastrous practices are those of tradition and custom, and are difficult to trace if one is seeking authority from the Regulations and authorized manuals. These are framed in a most reasonable spirit, and allow wide discretion to the Commanding Officer. So far as my experience goes, experience and research has not only been tolerated by the Authorities, but actively encouraged and helped.

[Sidenote: Equipment]

EQUIPMENT. The application to Army use of a saddle made for falling off seems a little eccentric until one begins to reason. The idea is not without value, because an Army in time of peace is really a school of manhood, which needs extending until every youth has been made into a man before he gets a vote as a citizen. At a cost of life not greatly exceeding the death-rate from closed windows (phthisis) we have under stress of war an {236} actual national training in manhood which has averted the fall of the British Empire. Moreover, the British military training manufactures a gentleman who can be trusted by the enemy with the care of his wife and daughters. If it is useful in the making of his manhood we should not grudge him a saddle for the prevention of riding. Morally, such a saddle is as good for Tommy as it is for the rich folk of the hunting field.

[Sidenote: Equipment for mobility]

It is when one begins to consider mobility in the field that the pleasure saddle seems an odd selection. Why not a skipping rope? Troops using the English equipment have rarely averaged twenty-one miles a day. Troops using the stock saddle have rarely gone so slow. The old war saddle has a record of nine hundred years in every kind of warfare; and has survived the extreme test of the stock range in replacing the English saddle with the Mounted Police, and mounted troops of Canada. Only the mistaken energies of sportsmen in the British Army displaced the practical equipment designed by soldiers. A return to the old saddle would increase the mobility of all mounted troops.

HORSEMANSHIP. A hundred years ago the recruit came from a farm and had been raised {237} on horseback. Even the riding masters of the period could not quite spoil his natural horsemanship. To-day the recruit comes from a town, looks on the horse as dangerous, and lacks the muscles of hip and thigh which must be developed before a man rides well.

[Sidenote: Military methods]

For civil purposes, the stock saddle, and a little guidance from horsemen will teach a man to ride, and the riding school would merely delay his progress. But Army purposes require a firm seat, a gentle hand to control the horse for military formations, and a perfect suppleness from the waist upwards for the use of weapons. These three vital needs involve a riding school. So the rookie is introduced to the riding school horse. Outside the school that horse is an iron-mouthed brute, who joggles, and cannot be induced to work apart from his comrades. Inside the school he understands the riding master's talk, goes through the drill with or without a rider, and tries to have some fun out of his rookie to pass away the boring hours until he gets home to stables and a meal.

[Sidenote: The riding school]

The first job is to give the rookie confidence in the horse. To inspire the rookie with confidence, the riding master flicks the horse's heels with a long whip. The rookie's confidence {238} that he will tumble off is nearly always justified, and in many instances his nerve is broken. Then the bully calls his victim a coward, and the rookie, made unfit for mounted work, drifts to some staff employment or transfers to a unit of foot. The use of dummy horse for beginners would develop the riding muscles without risk of spoiling the man. It would be reasonable also to tell the recruit that a little fuller's earth to absorb the moisture on his chafed skin will avert most agonizing pain.

It is a curious streak in military character that there is a tremendous fuss over a horse gall the size of a sixpence, but that a man skinned from crotch to knee is blamed as a malingerer if he applies to the doctor for help.

The saddle being worse than useless, the rookie is glad to be quit of such an obstacle to his progress in riding. Moreover, his puttees being worn with edges up, they catch in the horse's turned down hair, and so give him a chance to grip bareback. Leave out the saddle altogether and the plucky and intelligent recruits of the new armies are quick to gain confidence as horsemen. They learn by sensible methods taught to the Greek {239} rookies of Xenopohon's ever-glorious Ten Thousand.

[Sidenote: Riding establishments]

There are three types of Riding Establishment: the closed building, so hot that it stupefies the man just when he needs his brains; the ring in a field which has at least the blessings of fresh air; and the open field of the up-to-date instructors. A cheery and sympathetic Riding Master will do better under a roof than a bully can even in the open field, but the best and most rapid training I have ever seen was given in open field by a Regular soldier who abstained from losing his temper. In civil life I had seen a range horseman teaching English pupils with equal success, and the methods of the two masters were identical. Men who had never mounted before were taught within a week such circus tricks as jumping, wrestling bareback, tug-of-war mounted, and making horses climb over ugly ground. It was a punishment to be excluded from the lessons. From the civilian school pupils passed out after six months' training and earned a living as stock riders. From the military school the men were transferred to a station with the old ring menage and never recovered the resulting leeway. Given equally good instructors, I should say that one month's {240} training in open field is equal in value to four months in the outdoor menage or five months in an indoor riding school.

[Sidenote: The outdoor training]

In training men my first measure was to select sympathetic instructors, and relieve for other duties any N.C.O. who showed the slightest infirmity of temper. Released from all bullying, nagging or fear of punishment, my rookies were sportsmen who would greet me with a cheery grin. The second measure was to cut out the element of monotony in routine, so that the riding field became a place of surprises, of varied sports and competitions where each man tried to excel. From the first I would take the whole class away from the schooling for an occasional joy-ride along the grassy roadsides, slowly increasing the pace from walk to joggle, and finally to long trot on the home stretch. When we came to be tested against other units we had no reason to regret our unorthodox methods of training.

My second month's riding school would involve a very serious schooling for officers and Non. Coms, in teaching them how to handle a unit training for field mobility. It would be limited to three exercises all of which I have tested with success in England during the past decade.

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FIRST EXERCISE. Taking a feed and haversack rations to make a day's march and practise the noon halt.

SECOND EXERCISE. Taking vehicles or pack animals according to size of unit, to make a two days' march with a night bivouac. Instruction is needed in the use of natural wind breaks and slopes of ground, also to adapt the sweat pad, blanket, overcoat and saddle, into a dry camp regardless of the weather.

THIRD EXERCISE. After extensive practice at the home camp, in cooking without any utensils except the pots and cups for the tea or coffee, to make a night bivouac without any kitchen transport.

So far one could dispense with the camp equipment, and almost the whole kitchen; but concurrently with this training to drop needless baggage, there would be first exercises for scouting and road reports, vedettes, flankers and despatch riders.

[Sidenote: Factors of mobility]

MOBILITY. The factors for mobility may now be added up: The breeding of horses on pasture natural to the species; sheds to secure dry earth standings and a wind break; outdoor management; a weight-distributing saddle; an actual training of men and horses to rapid and sustained marching with reduced transport. {242} With these few measures the mobility of mounted troops could be doubled.

[Sidenote: The wings of an army]

To quadruple the mobility of mounted forces one has merely to add the stock-range system of a pony herd supplying two mounts per man. In an enemy's country each horseman would ride, and lead his spare mount, changing over at halts. A march would be continuous with short halts, up to the limits of endurance for the men and horses available, and this after proper training would not be far short of one hundred miles a day. From the moment when a war of positions culminates in advance or in retreat, flying brigades or even divisions could play havoc with enemy's plans by threatening his lines of communication. The raid, as practised by the Confederate, General Morgan, in the American Civil War, is no longer healthy because there are aircraft about. Detached units cannot, as in past times, be left in the air to forage for themselves; and yet mobility of the screen and wings may prove as useful an aid to a marching army as claws are to a crab.

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