Chapter VI: Part 6

"It would be vain," writes Sir J. Eardley Wilmot, "to endeavour
to commemorate the scene which took place when Tom Smith,
surrounded by his hounds, met the field at Shankton Holt on
Friday, the 20th of March. More than two thousand horsemen,
one-third of whom appeared in pink, were assembled. Men of
the highest birth and station, men who had served their
country with deeds of most daring gallantry by sea and land,
men who in political or social life were the most brilliant
in repute, thronged to do honour to the first fox-hunter of
the day. They had come from remote counties, and more were
pouring in along the grassy slopes and vales, or skirting the
well-known gorse covers. As Dick Christian remarked, 'the
first lot were at Shankton Holt when the tail end wern't out
of Rolleston gates.' Cold must have been the heart of him who
could behold without joyous emotion the crowds of grey-headed
horsemen hurrying forward to shake hands with their old friend
and fellow-sportsman, each calling vividly to memory some
scene where he had acted the most conspicuous part. More than
twenty years had rolled away since he had resigned the lead
in that magnificent country. There had been splendid riders
since his day; and while time had thinned the ranks of the
veterans, younger men had either achieved or were achieving
fame--Frank Holyoake, now Sir Francis Goodricke, well known for
his splendid feats on Brilliant; Colonel Lowther, Lord Wilton,
Lord Archibald Seymour, George Payne, Little[I] Gilmour, Lord
Gardner, George Anson, and a host of sportsmen, well deserving
the reputation they had won, yet all strangers to the doings
of this hero of the Quorn, except through anecdotes familiar
to them as 'household words.' In addition to these were a very
goodly display of carriages-and-four filled with ladies, and
pedestrians without number. The hounds with Dick Burton were
drawn up on the lawn, while the vast group of horsemen formed a
circle, with the carriages and assembled crowd outside. After
the friendly salutations were over, and their enthusiastic
character astonished no one but the Illustrious Stranger[J]
present, Mr. Smith took his hounds to Shankton Holt, where he
drew only the bottom of the covert; thence to Norton Gorse,
Stanton Wood, Glooston Wood, and Fallow Close, all blank. It
was an unfavourable day for scent,--a bright sun with
north-easterly wind, not a cloud to be seen, and the cold
intense. A fox having been found by Mr. Hodgson, in Vowes
Covert, as already stated, away went the hounds towards
Horringhold, leaving Blaston to the right. Here Mr. Smith took
a strong flight of rails into a road, quite like a 'young 'un.'
The fox soon afterwards crossed the Welland, and went away for
Rockingham Park, where, it being late, they whipped off."

From 1830 to 1856--that is to say, until Tom Smith had reached the age of eighty--with his indomitable energy and undaunted courage he continued to hunt his hounds at Tedworth, spending his summers at Vaenol on board his yacht. His head was as clear and his hand as firm as they had been twenty years ago. If he felt not quite well in a morning, plunging his head into cold water, he used to hold it there as long as he could, which he said always put him to rights. It is true he had curtailed his meets to four only a week, but on these days the farmers were delighted to see "the old Squire" vault on horseback, as usual, blow his horn while his horse was carrying him over a five-barred gate, and, with a loose rein, gallop down the sheep-fed hill-sides with all the alacrity of a boy. But although the hourglass of his existence appeared to be still as bright and clear as ever, the sand within the upper portion of the crystal was now running to its end. In September, 1856, while at his summer residence in North Wales, he was suddenly seized with an alarming attack of asthma, which, by the use of stimulants and by the assiduous attention of Mrs. Smith,--at this period herself in a very weak state of health,--was so far subdued that on one of his horses saddled appearing at the door--although five minutes before he had been gasping for breath on the sofa--he mounted the animal, and broke away, as if instinctively, to seek for himself a stronger stimulant than his physician could prescribe--_the sight once again of his hounds_.

"Although," writes Sir J. Eardley Wilmot, very feelingly, "he
rallied from this attack in an astonishing manner, he was no
longer the same man. The erect gait was bent, and the eagle eye
had lost its lustre."

The able writer of 'Silk and Scarlet' gives the following graphic and affecting description of Tom Smith the last time he appeared at the meet with his hounds:--

"The covert side knew him no more after the October of 1857,
when he just cantered up to Willbury on his chestnut hack
Blemish, to see his hounds draw. Carter got his orders to bring
the choicest of the 1858 entry, and he and Will Bryce arrived
at the usual rendezvous with five couple of bitches by the
Fitzwilliam Hardwicke and Hermit. He looked at them a short
time, and exclaimed, '+Well, they're as beautiful as they can
be+,' bade both his men good-bye, and they saw him no more."

He returned to Tedworth as usual--

"But," writes Sir J. Eardley Wilmot, "at the annual meet on the
1st of November, 1857, the hounds met without the accustomed
centre figure of their master, who slowly rode up to them
without his scarlet. He remarked, quite seriously, that if he
had worn his hunting gear, and his pack should observe that
he could not follow them, they would show their sorrow by
refusing to hunt the fox. A universal gloom pervaded the field;
he looked wistfully and lovingly at his old favourites, the
heroes of many a well-fought field; and as he quickly went back
into the hall, shrinking almost from the outer air, while the
horsemen and pack turned away slowly towards the shrubberies,
every one felt with a heavy heart that the glory of the old
fox-hunter had at length departed."

The state of Mrs. Smith's health having for many years caused her husband great anxiety, in 1845, in order, as he said, "to bring Madeira to England," he constructed for her at Tedworth a magnificent conservatory or crystal palace, 315 feet in length and 40 in width, in which, enjoying the temperature of a warm climate, she might take walking exercise during the winter months. A Wiltshire farmer, on first seeing this building, observed, he supposed it was for the 'Squire to hunt there whenever a frost stopped him in the field.

"It was a melancholy spectacle," writes Sir J. Eardley Wilmot,
"to see Tom Smith the winter before his death, when he
could no longer join his hounds, mount one of his favourite
hunters--Euxine, Paul Potter, or Blemish--with the assistance
of a chair, and take his exercise for an hour at a foot's
pace up and down this conservatory, often with some friend
at his side to cheer him up and while away the time until he
re-entered the house, for he was not allowed at that period
to go out of doors. Even in this feeble condition, '_quantùm
mutatus ab illo Hectore_,' once on horseback, he appeared to
revive; and the dexterity and ease with which he managed, like
a plaything, the spirited animal under him, which had scarcely
left its stable for months, was most surprising."

During the last days of his existence he rested rather than took exercise on that noble animal the horse, which for seventy years he had so resolutely and yet so considerately governed. His mind, in its declining hours, had also its support. Throughout his life, without ostentation and often in secret, he had been charitable to people of various conditions. Of the two thousand workmen in his quarries, scarcely one of them had ever been taken before a magistrate for dishonesty. Never was he known, if properly requested, to refuse to give a site for a church or even for a Dissenting chapel. Both he and Mrs. Smith invariably went to church on foot, it being a rule with them never, except in case of illness, to have either carriage or horse out on Sundays.

A few weeks after he had completed his eighty-second year he had a sudden attack of the same symptoms which had shaken him so severely in 1856. In a moment of consciousness, evidently aware of his approaching end, pointing to his faithful valet, he said to his devoted wife, "_Take care of that man!_" and when Mrs. Smith left the room, he said to her maid, "_Watch over your mistress; take care of +her+._" A few hours afterwards--

"Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history"

on the 9th of September, 1858, while Mrs. Smith's sister was watching by his bedside, a slight change came over his countenance, but before the doctors or even his valet could be summoned,--with a gentle sigh expired Thomas Assheton Smith, bequeathing, on half a sheet of writing-paper, the whole of his vast possessions, producing from 50,000_l._ to 55,000_l._ a year, to his widow (who survived him only a few months); and moreover leaving behind him a name that will long be remembered not only by the farmers and riding men of the counties he hunted, but by all who are disposed fairly and justly to appreciate the lights and shadows which constitute the character of "The English Country Gentleman," one only of whose recreations we have endeavoured to delineate to our readers in the foregoing slight sketches of those three gallant animals--the +Horse+, the +Fox+, and last, though not least, the +Foxhunter+.

To face page 195.]

[Footnote I: Like William of Deloraine, "_good at need_."]

[Footnote J: Prince Ernest, brother to Prince Albert.]

+On Military Horse-Power.+

As the momentum or force of a shot is said to be its weight multiplied by its velocity, so the strength of an army may not unjustly be estimated by multiplying its physical powers by the rate at which (if necessary) it can be made to travel: in short, activity is to an army what velocity is to a shot, or what the rigging of a vessel is to its hull. But, although we refuse to increase the weight of a shot unless we can proportionately preserve our power to propel it, yet, in European warfare, this principle, as regards the "matériel" of an army, has not always been kept in mind. Inventions have very easily been admitted, which afterwards have not been so easy to carry. It is true, they have added to the powers of the army, but they have so diminished its speed, that, encumbered by its implements and accoutrements, a European, like an East Indian army, has often felt that it requires less science to fight than to march; and thus, when Bonaparte, in his retreat from Moscow, was surrounded by Cossacks, which his troops were unable to crush only because they could not get at them, his well-known confession proves that when the field is vast, and its resources feeble, the distance between regular and irregular warfare "is but a step,"--the reason being, that the superior strength of the former is worn out by the superior activity of the latter, or, as Marshal Saxe expressed it, "its arms are of less value than its legs."

Now, it is undeniable that this want of activity proceeds partly from the weight of the "matériel," but principally from the following very remarkable imperfection in the military equipment of Europe.

It is well known that not only every soldier, but every human being following an army, is subject to military discipline, and that his labour may, at any time, and for any purpose, be required of him; but, although the rational being is thus called upon to work with cheerful obedience for the grand objects of the army, the physical powers of the brute beast have never yet been developed; and accordingly for the various, sudden, and momentary emergencies for which horse-power has often and urgently in vain been required, horse-power (the cavalry) to an enormous extent has existed upon the spot, a military element which it has hitherto been considered so impracticable to control, that the guns, ammunition, treasure, &c., which European cavalry have oftentimes bravely won, their horses have been supposed totally incapable to carry away; and the laurel which was positively in their hands they have thus been obliged to abandon. Again, for sieges in countries which have been drained by the artillery and cavalry, not only of horses, but of sustenance to maintain them, it has often been absolutely necessary to bring forward, by bullocks and other inefficient means, the battering train, ammunition, entrenching tools, materials, &c., amounting in weight, even for the attack of a second-rate fortress, to several thousand tons. In moments of such distress the infantry working in the trenches have often severely suffered from the delay occasioned by the want of horse-power, while their comrades, the cavalry, have been deemed incapable of sharing the honour and fatigue of the day, from the anomalous conclusion that, although it is easy to extract from men manual labour, it is impossible to extract from horses horse-power; and yet there exists no reason why, in moments of emergency, cavalry horses should not be required to work (most particularly at drag-ropes) as well as infantry soldiers; for although the patient endurance of hardships and privations is one of the noblest features in military life, yet absolutely to suffer from the want of what one positively possesses is, even in common life, a discreditable misfortune, indicating not bodily weakness, but mental imbecility.

Even in that noble department, the Horse Artillery itself, there existed throughout the Peninsular War a striking example of latent power which had never been exerted. To each gun there were attached twelve horses trained to draught. Of these, only eight possessed the means of drawing: the gun might therefore, in mechanical calculation, be said to be propelled by an engine of eight horse-power; and if a morass, or any other obstacle, over-balanced this power, the gun was either deserted, or (as was customary) the infantry were harnessed to it, by drag-ropes, in the immediate presence of four draught-horses, whose powers (besides officers' horses) it was conceived that we were unable to command.[K]

Now, to awaken, _at no expense_, the important, natural, yet dormant powers, not only of cavalry but of all other horses, and, consequently, to afford the means of accelerating (when required) the movements, grand or small, of an army, would surely be more beneficial than even to suggest an improvement in its arms; for it may justly be said that our present weapons are destructive enough--that even if we could succeed in making them more so, still our enemies would retort them upon us--that the advantage, or rather the disadvantage, would then be mutual--and that, eventually, war would only be made still more destructive; but by giving activity and mobility to European armies, the science of war is promoted; and even if the benefit to the civilized nations of Europe should be equal (but this, from the superior size and strength of English horses, would evidently be in our favour), yet it would at least shield the profession from the disgrace of being again persecuted, in any country, by an uncivilized army; and if the navy of England, laden with its immense weight of metal, is endeavouring, by science and reflection, to accelerate its rate of sailing, so that it can not only stand against the largest fleet, but can chase and run down the smallest pirate, surely the British army, already distinguished by its heart and its arm, should never rest satisfied until it can sufficiently develop its locomotive powers to be able to overtake and punish the insults of irregular troops.

Having now endeavoured to prove, 1st, That in European warfare there positively does exist a serious imperfection; and 2ndly, That it is for the interest, and due to the character, of the profession, that this imperfection should be corrected, we will proceed to explain the reasons which have lately induced the Duke of Cambridge by the following order to direct the attention of the British cavalry to the practice of lasso draught, (which for more than two years, by order of the Inspector-General of Fortifications, General Sir John Burgoyne, has been most successfully and scientifically adopted, by Captain Siborne, R.E., commanding the Royal Engineer Train, under the intelligent superintendence of Colonel Henry Sandham, Director of the Royal Engineers' Establishment at Chatham.)

_Extract from the Queen's Regulations, page 126._

"In order that the cavalry may, upon emergencies, be available for the purposes of draught, such as assisting artillery, &c., through deep roads, and in surmounting other impediments and obstacles which the carriages of the army have frequently to encounter in the course of active service, ten men per troop are to be equipped with the tackle of the lasso."

In Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, and a considerable portion of South America, for every purpose of drawing, a horse is confined between two traces; and accordingly, whenever for the first time in his life he is placed in this predicament, so soon as one of them touches or tickles him on one side, he flies from it to the other trace, which suddenly arrests him, and, usually blind-folded by blinkers, being ignorant of, as well as alarmed at, the unknown objects that are restraining him, he occasionally endeavours to disperse them by kicking; and even if he submits, it requires some little experience to tranquillize his fears. For these reasons, throughout the regions enumerated, a horse that has never been in harness, however valuable he may be, is _totally_ useless in a moment of emergency for the purposes of draught.

Now throughout that region of South America which extends in 35° south latitude from Buenos Ayres on the Atlantic, to Santiago and to Valparaiso on the Pacific Ocean, harness is composed of nothing but a surcingle and a single trace, by which the horse draws as a man would drag a garden-roller, by one hand instead of by two.

By this simple mode all the merchandise, and all the travellers that have ever traversed on wheels those immense plains that separate the two great oceans of the world, have been transported.

For military purposes its efficiency has been thus substantiated by General Miller in his history of 'The War for Independence':--

"Our corps consisted of ten six-pounders and one howitzer. Each gun was drawn by four horses, and each horse ridden by a gunner, there being no corps of drivers in the service. A non-commissioned officer and seven drivers were, besides the four already mentioned, attached to each piece of artillery. Buckles, collars, cruppers, and breast-plates were not in use; the horses simply drew from the saddle, and with this equipment our guns have travelled nearly 100 miles in a day."

But besides its efficiency for all the requirements of either peace or war, the singular advantage of this simple harness is that any description of horse, tame or wild, uses it without noticing it; for if the single trace which passes immediately beneath his hip bone happens (which it ought not) to press against his side, by shrinking from it only an inch it instantly ceases to touch him; and as there then remains nothing to confine, tickle, or alarm him, he refrains from kicking, simply because there is nothing to kick at, and from quarrelling because he can see nothing in the world to quarrel with.

With this equipment, if a party of native riders, hunting ostriches in South America, are requested to help the horses of a carriage across a river, and up a steep bank, similar, for instance, to that of the Alma, in a moment they affix their lassos, conquer the difficulty, attain the summit, and then, with tobacco smoke steaming from their mouths, gallop away to follow their sport.

The Royal Engineer Train have demonstrated by public experiments in this country, that with this simple equipment, which would injure neither the efficiency nor the appearance of the cavalry, any number of horses, whether accustomed to draught or not, are capable of being at once harnessed to any description of carriage, not only (_see sketch_) in front to draw it forward, but in rear to hold it back, or even sideways to prevent its oversetting--in short, that it is a power which can be made to radiate in any direction; and as its character stands upon a much firmer foundation--as it is _bonâ fide_ the common mode of draught in South America--in constant use for all military and civil purposes--a practical invention which, under all circumstances, has been always found to answer, it is evident to demonstration,--1st. That if it can transport artillery, &c., across the lofty, vast, and rugged features of uncultivated America, it would surely be serviceable on the roads and bridges of civilized countries. 2ndly, That if it can be adapted to unbroken horses, it cannot be inapplicable to the trained horses of our cavalry. And, 3rdly, That as both the surcingle and trace are made, in America, of nothing but the skins of bullocks, we should, on active service, be able in all countries at least to obtain this material, and generally many others.

It must, moreover, be observed, that as a mounted horse (_i. e._ a horse and man) are heavier than an unmounted horse, the former with a lasso can drag a heavier weight than the latter with a collar and traces.[L]

Now, supposing for a moment that not only our cavalry were to be furnished with, but that every saddle-horse receiving rations in a European army was to be ordered to wear the South American surcingle (_which costs less than English girths and surcingle_, and which experience has proved to be, merely as a girth, superior to a common one), and to carry a halter of the usual regulation length, but long enough for a single trace, without detailing the various important as well as trifling services which might be performed, is it not evident that the general activity of the army would most materially be increased? that, in fact, this equipment would form an era in military warfare? that it would be an enormous, and, in Europe, an unheard-of engine of say twenty or thirty thousand horses' power, which, at a moment's warning, could either be called forward or dismissed, and, after all, maintained at no expense whatever? for it must ever be kept in mind, +that we possess, and always have possessed, the power+; all that, for five and thirty years, we have until lately in vain proposed, is--to rouse it into action.

If the propriety and future utility of this project should be admitted, there is one most important observation to be made. The characteristic feature of this simple harness is, that having been invented for unbroken horses, it possesses the singular military advantage of being at once applicable to any sort or description of horse. But it is well known to every reflecting mind, that there is no useful art which does not, somewhere or other, require attention; and to this general rule the American harness is certainly no exception; for though any horse will draw in it, yet it does require, on the part of _the rider_, considerable experience and attention. The single trace must be managed in a particular manner, or, in turning, it gets under the horse's tail: unless it is properly held in the hand at starting, the horse may break it by the jerk. There are several other little precautions necessary, most particularly in the mode of adjusting the surcingle, which requires considerable practice and attention.

The many curious and indeed scientific applications and combinations of power of which this simple harness is capable, form a beautiful example of what even uncivilised man can contrive when his attention has been long and steadily directed to a solitary object. And surely the ingenuity and practical experience of one nation are worthy the patient attention of another. But the apparent simplicity of many a useful invention has often been its ruin; and this observation is most particularly applicable to lasso harness, which is, in appearance, so very simple, that it seems to require only to be seen to be perfectly understood: yet, efficient as it is in America, and efficient as it will be to any nation in Europe that will give to its merits sufficient time and a fair trial,--yet, on some little experience and reflection, it is most confidently stated that, as a theory, it certainly is _of no use at all_; and the truth of this observation will at once be proved by the complete failure and confusion which will inevitably take place if our cavalry try the harness without first not only patiently but cordially and zealously learning how to use it. Yet this ought not, in common justice, to condemn the principle; for, could cavalry, without some little instruction, succeed in driving even with our own harness?--Could French coachmen, without practice, drive our mails?--Could our English postilions drive the five horses of a French diligence? And if driving is thus a science of many departments, it would not be reasonable to expect that our cavalry should be able to _drive_, merely because they have learnt to _ride_.

[Footnote K: To the 12-pounder Armstrong gun (which sighted to 8° gives a range of 3000 yards) are now attached eight horses in harness, and eight more on which the non-commissioned officers and men, including horse holders, are mounted. Of these, four are supplied with web breast harness and traces: to a proportion of the remainder lassos are supplied.]

[Footnote L: On active service, when a gun sticks in very heavy ground, it has been usual to place a gunner upon every unmounted horse, and, if necessary, behind every driver on the mounted ones. By this additional weight or power a gun has repeatedly been extricated and brought into action.]

+How to Hobble and Anchor Horses.+

"_Hard pummelling_," said the Duke of Wellington to the Guards at Waterloo, "_Hard pummelling, Gentlemen! Well, we must just see who'll pummel the +hardest+._"

During the reign of Brown Bess the great battles of Europe were decided very much in the manner above described.

Two armies met on a battle-field, or two fleets on "the wide, rude sea," as in England two prize-fighters have entered a small space encircled by ropes, to "see who'll pummel the hardest." In all three cases, endurance, indomitable courage, and physical strength sooner or later conquered.

As, however, in mechanics, a timid, puny boy, with the assistance of a pulley, could drag towards him Mars or Hercules, so must the new arms of precision lately invented, give victory, not to the bravest or the strongest, but to whichever of two combatant armies shall exercise their deadly weapons with the greatest amount of science.

And, as fortification has justly been defined "the art of enabling a small body of men to resist for a considerable time the attack of a greater number," so will, in future, the science of war consist in the art of concealing by every possible artifice the general commanding, his staff, his artillery, cavalry, and infantry, from the fire of rifled cannon and Minié muskets, of which, when properly directed, it may be said that almost "every bullet will have its billet."

On this principle, if England were to be invaded, it would be the endeavour and the duty of the general on whose intellectual powers the destiny of the empire would hang, to direct his army to take against their enemy (after, in spite of his utmost efforts, they had effected a landing), not, as in by-gone days, "_the field_," but rather possession of the banks, hedges, and ditches thereof; to make every great mansion, building, or village, by loop-holing their walls, a Hougoumont; every railway embankment a covert-way and parapet; every hollow road a protector or ambuscade for cavalry or infantry; the scarped summit of every hill a battery; in short, by avoiding exposure, and by every means that ingenuity can devise, to make the invaders, during every step of their advance, smart under a lash, and fall from blows, administered by a nimble, intellectual army which they feel, which they are literally dying to see, but which is skilfully continuing, out of their reach, to decimate their ranks, in order that when the great battle is given, the invading army--though infinitely superior when it disembarked--shall be reduced to a force inferior in number to that of the stern, steady, stalwart defenders of their native soil.

It is evident, however, that to carry on war on the above principle, it will be necessary that cavalry, in their equipment as well as drill, should undergo a complete revolution, with a view to enable them in future, in addition to the use of their sabres, to help artillery with their lassos,--act as _mounted infantry_,--in short, make themselves generally useful; for, at present, they form on a field of battle so large a target, that under existing circumstances they would have, either out of harm's way to sit on their horses all day long waiting for an opportunity not likely to occur, or be destroyed by rifled guns and muskets before their services could be required: in fact, as it would be impossible for them to charge men in squares, or even in position armed with muskets of unerring aim, they could be of little use until after the battle was _won_, by following up the enemy in their retreat.

Now, instead of being the dearest and the most useless, they would become the cheapest and most efficient branch of the army, if, besides occasionally using their lassos to help our Armstrong guns, &c., they had power to skim along hollow roads, &c., to the vicinity of the summit of a hill or any other position, from which, half or wholly hidden, they could, with short Minié rifles, direct a deadly fire upon an overwhelming amount of advancing troops, from whom they could gallop away--only to re-attack them--the instant it became prudent to do so.

But to enable cavalry or volunteer mounted yeomanry to act in this manner, how, it will be asked, could they manage to leave their horses?

To this important question we will reply, not by any theoretical project, but by a statement of facts, which, though generally unknown in England, have for many generations been in constant practice in other parts of the world.

1. Throughout Russia, the Cossacks,--whenever for any reason, small or large, they have wished to leave one horse, or a regiment of horses, to stand alone, to ruminate either in the snow or on a verdant plain--have, for ages, been in the habit of, as it were, riveting them to the ground, by tying together their two fore fetlocks by a pair of hobbles, to the centre of which is affixed a narrow strap that buckles over the hock of one hind leg. By this triangular apparatus (weighing less than one pound), which out of four legs leaves only one at liberty, the animal physically and morally is completely paralysed; indeed he is not only unable to move away, but after his first fall is afraid again to try to do so.

2. In South Africa, farmers and sportsmen of all descriptions have long been in the habit of what they term "anchoring" their horses by a lump of lead, from three to five pounds in weight, carried in a small pocket buckled to the outside of their near or left holster.

To this "anchor" is attached a piece of cord about ten feet long, which, passing and running freely through both rings of the curb bit, and hanging from them like a loose rein, is fastened to a =D= or ring on the off-side of the saddle.

No time need be lost in displacing the lead from its pocket when necessary, as it can be jerked out on the ground in the act of dismounting.

When a horse has been thus anchored, if he attempts to move on, his nose is brought down to his breast by the cord, which, tightening equally on both sides, acts exactly like a bridle in the hand of a rider; and as the pressure of the curb-chain ceases so soon as he stops, he soon finds out that the best thing he can do is to stand still and graze.

As the cord is not _fastened_ to either ring of the bit, but merely runs through both, the pressure it exerts when the horse tries to move is equal on both sides; and therefore, on the pulley principle, a lead of four pounds weight makes it necessary for the horse to overcome with his mouth a steady and continuous pressure of eight pounds on the extremity of the bit lever before he can move forward. On mounting hurriedly the cord is grasped with the reins, the anchor is raised, and while galloping away is adjusted in its pocket.

Although this invention has proved to be admirably adapted for farmers, for hunting and shooting, or for staff or engineer officers while reconnoitring or surveying (for which purpose General Sir John Michel, now commanding a brigade in China, has used it with great success), it could not safely be applied to cavalry; for as the horse has power, if he chooses to endure the pain inflicted by his bit, to "pull" or drag the anchor, were he to run away with it, its oscillations would be very dangerous in a camp.

To carry the additional weight of the anchor would also be considered as an objection; but this could be entirely got rid of by any intelligent staff officer affixing to a rope,--whenever he wished for reconnoitring to tether his horse,--a stone, a piece of wood, or any other heavy substance, which he would unlash and leave behind him so soon as his object on foot had been accomplished.

3. In Mendoza, San Luis, Santiago, Buenos Ayres, and all other cities in the provinces of Rio de la Plata, in Chili, and in Peru, whenever a young dandy, calling upon his innamorata, is informed that she is "en casa," that is at home, he dismounts, extracts from his waistcoat pocket a beautiful pair of slight hobbles (weighing only two ounces), which by two silver buttons he affixes to the fetlocks of his high-bred horse, who, swishing with his long tail the innumerable flies that assail him, and looking at every animal that canters by him, stands stock still, until within the house all the compliments of the season have been paid, and all the songs to the guitar exhausted.

In those countries every cavalry soldier carries a pair of such hobbles for his horse, not in his pocket, but as an ornament dangling from the throat-lash of the bridle.

By this invention a horse is not so thoroughly secured as by that used by the Cossacks; and accordingly, if he be overfed, very fresh, and greatly alarmed, he has power in a very awkward gait to move away.

On active service, however, where horses have more work than food, it would prove efficient for a single horse, and would completely arrest a troop when connected together by their collar chains, by which arrangement a movement, however slight, by any one horse would be restrained by the vis inertiæ of all the rest.

On the above suggestion being submitted by us about six months ago to General Sir John Burgoyne, with the vivacity and energy that distinguish him, he instantly directed it to be properly tested by the mounted troop of the Royal Engineer Train, who, as regards both bridles and saddles, are equipped as cavalry.

The result of the experiments, under the superintendence of Colonel Henry Sandham, and the able assistance of Captain Duff, R.E., has proved so eminently successful, that any one visiting Aldershott is now enabled to see six or eight horses hobbled at intervals of about thirty feet asunder, standing motionless, while the riders of the rest of the troop to which they belong, with drawn sabres flashing in the sun, are galloping through them backwards and forwards; and as of course cavalry horses could be made to do the same, it has been substantiated that that noble branch of our army, as also our volunteer yeomanry, by merely carrying hobbles, which only weigh two ounces per pair, would at once be enabled, in addition to other services, to act, whenever requisite, as _mounted infantry_.

To an officer of the staff or engineers, sent to deliver an order to, or to reconnoitre a locality which on horseback it would be certain death to him to attempt to approach, a pair of hobbles would enable him, or, in case of invasion, any possessor of a horse and a Minié rifle, to ride as far as with safety he could advance, and then by dismounting and securing his animal to creep, or if necessary, crawl onwards along the bottom of a ditch, or behind any bank or hedge, sufficient to conceal him from the fire of an army of unerring marksmen to whom, after making all necessary observations, he could invisibly administer deadly blows.

As, however, in future warfare it will of course constantly occur, that appropriate cover in appropriate situations and directions will not be available, our army, however perfect it may be made in the light infantry rifle movements above described, should be discouraged from _relying_ on them, lest such an idea should lead, not only to a timid course of procedure on the part of the General commanding, but to a conception in the minds of British soldiers, whose favourite weapon has hitherto been their bayonets, that the odds will be much against them unless they be hidden from the fire of their enemy.

+On Chloroforming Horses.+

In the first book of Genesis, although on the bursting out of light; on the gathering together of the waters to let the dry land appear; on the creation of the grass, the herb, and the fruit-tree; of the sun, moon, and stars; of the fishes of the sea; of the fowls of the air; of the beast of the earth, of the cattle, of every living creature, and everything that creepeth upon the earth, we are informed by Moses that on each of these successive formations "God saw that it was good;" yet, the same six important words of approval were not (as in all the previous instances they had been) especially uttered on the creation of man, the reason possibly being that of the works of creation every thing was fixed, and "of its kind" immutably "good," save human reason, which, for the weal or woe of the favoured race on whom alone it was bestowed, was gifted with an elasticity by which its character, capable of being elevated or depressed to almost immeasurable distances above or below the level of its original creation, might become either "good" or evil.

And accordingly, while the heat of the sun, the light of the moon, the brightness of the stars, the force of the hurricane, the velocity of light, the movements of the heavenly bodies, the return of the seasons, have neither increased nor diminished in the smallest degree; yet human reason, since the moment of its creation, has never continued within the same limits, simply because its cumulative powers have enabled it to inherit, increase, and transmit knowledge which, by the triumph of reason over immutable instinct, has, in accordance with the Almighty decree, given to man dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth on the earth.

As property, however, in animals as well as in acres, "has its duties as well as its rights," it might have been expected (at least by _them_) that when the Lord of the creation thus obtained possession of the superior physical strength of brute beasts, he would deem it just to impart to them in return a small tithe or share of any discovery by human reason that could alleviate the work which, in subjection to its power, they were required to perform; and as in mercantile firms it is usual for the partners to expend for their mutual benefit the amount of the capital they respectively contribute, it might have been expected that in the alliance which has taken place between men and horses, a similar division of profits would have been adopted. But like "Irish reciprocity," the advantages are all on one side; or in plainer terms, Reason screws all it can out of Instinct, giving to the poor brute, its owner, nothing in return.

For instance, when man found that his unshod horse could only carry him per day a small number of miles, he invented for and presented him with iron shoes, in return for which he required the wearer thereof to carry him more than double that distance.

To the old fashioned lever, attached to the extremity of which a horse revolving a mill could only draw up per day a small quantity of water, or knead a small quantity of clay, man as he improved in mechanical knowledge added a wheel, in return for which he required the quadruped worker thereof to lift treble the amount of water, or to knead treble the amount of clay.

Along the rough muddy roads that existed throughout Europe half a century ago, a horse could with difficulty draw a single man seated in his gig or "buggy." As soon, however, as by human science roads were macadamised, _i.e._, levelled and improved, there arose as it were out of them (like mushrooms in a meadow) innumerable descriptions of four-wheeled carriages, in which the horse, simply because he was enabled, was required to draw, in addition to his master, his wife and three or four of their children.

When by the invention of railways the locomotive engine suddenly superseded animal power, the horses, instead of sharing in a discovery by human reason which seemed to promise to them emancipation from slavery, found that by it they were merely to be transferred from good highways to bad bye-ways.

If thousands of omnibuses, cabs, and canal-boats, which have been plying seven days in the week, are suddenly restrained by human laws from running on the Sabbath, the proprietors instantly diminish the number of their horses, expressly for the purpose of continuing to give to each the same amount of work and of rest, the latter, like "the best of oats, beans, and chopped hay," being bestowed upon him solely to enable him to perform the maximum amount of work.

In short, by the common rule of three, as well as by the common rule of life, quaintly exemplified by the following extract, human reason calculates that if 7000 horses are necessary to work for seven days per week, only 6000 will be wanted to work for six days.

"+Sunday and Week-day Religions.+--The tides come twice a-day
in New York Harbour, but they only come once in seven days
in God's harbour of the sanctuary. They rise on Sunday, but
ebb on Monday, and are down and out all the rest of the week.
Men write over their store door, 'Business is business,' and
over the church door, 'Religion is religion;' and they say to
Religion, 'Never come in here,' and to Business, 'Never go in
there.' 'Let us have no secular things in the pulpit,' they
say; 'we get enough of them through the week in New York.
There all is stringent and biting selfishness, and knives, and
probes, and lancets, and hurry, and work, and worry. Here we
want repose, and sedatives, and healing balm. All is prose over
there; here let us have poetry. We want to sing hymns, and
to hear about heaven and Calvary; in short, we want the pure
Gospel without any worldly intermixture.' And so they desire to
spend a pious, quiet Sabbath, full of pleasant imaginings and
peaceful recollections; but when the day is gone, all is laid
aside. They will take by the throat the first debtor whom they
meet, and exclaim, 'Pay me what thou owest. It is _Monday_.'
And when the minister ventures to hint to them something about
their duty to their fellow-men, they say, 'Oh, you stick to
your preaching. You do not know how to collect your own debts,
and cannot tell what a man may have to do in his intercourse
with the world.' God's law is not allowed to go into the week.
If the merchant spies it in his store, he throws it over the
counter. If the clerk sees it in the bank, he kicks it out at
the door. If it is found in the street, the multitude pursue
it, pelting it with stones, as if it were a wolf escaped from
a menagerie, and shouting, 'Back with you! You have got out
of _Sunday_.' There is no religion in all this. It is mere
sentimentalism. Religion belongs to every day--to the place
of business as much as to the church. High in an ancient
belfry there is a clock, and once a week the old sexton winds
it up; but it has neither dial plate nor hands. The pendulum
swings, and there it goes, ticking, ticking, day in and day
out, unnoticed and useless. What the old clock is in its dark
chamber, keeping time to itself, but never showing it, that is
the mere sentimentality of religion, high above life, in the
region of airy thought; perched up in the top of Sunday, but
without dial or pointer to let the week know what o'clock it
is, of time or of eternity."--_American Paper._

It may be impracticable to prevent man from taking to himself the _whole_ benefit of every ingenious invention by which the physical power of the horse can be increased, yet surely, either by legislation or by the power of public opinion, he should be required to grant or rather transmit to the poor animal, as a gift from Heaven, the benefit of any scientific discovery that may save him from unnecessary and indescribable agony under operations almost all of which are prescribed either for the self interest, pride, or fashions of his master.

But although the avowed object of the criminal laws of England is to prevent crime by the infliction of a scale of punishments which, fearful enough to deter the guiltiest, are all divested, so far as science can devise, of bodily pain; although we deprecate any suffering on the tread-mill beyond that of ordinary hard labour; and although even for the murderer we have invented a machinery of rope, planks, and bolts to produce a sudden and almost painless death, yet, until lately, people of both sexes, of all ages, and of every sort and condition, have under the surgeon's knife been subjected to tortures which it would have been beyond the ingenuity of the most merciless tyrant that ever existed to have invented.

The screams, however, which have resounded throughout the civilized world--in private houses, in palaces, in cottages, on the field of battle, between the decks of men-of-war, and through the doors and windows of all public hospitals,--have lately, by the command and blessing of Almighty God, been suddenly stopped by the administration of chloroform, which now, diluted in the proportion of three parts of vapour to ninety-seven parts of atmospheric air, causes a patient, at no risk whatever of his life, and at a cost amounting to less than two-pence, to be bereft, not necessarily of his senses, but merely of sensation, while the knife, without the infliction of the slightest pain, is performing on his living body the most appalling operations.

"And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and
he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh
instead thereof."

Now, if in return for this extraordinary alleviation, or rather annihilation of all sufferings under surgical treatment, man should deem it his duty to render public thanks to that Omnipotent Power from which it has proceeded, is it possible for him practically to perform any more acceptable act of acknowledgment than to allow the dumb creatures in his service to participate in a blessing which, by Divine authority, has been imparted to the possessors, not exclusively of human reason, but without favour or exception, of animal life?

As regards his horses, the performance of this duty is especially incumbent: for not only, like all other animals, are they liable to the accidents and ills that flesh is heir to, but some of the cruelest operations to which they are subjected--such, for instance, as cutting off and cauterising their tails, burning their sinews with red hot irons, dividing and cutting out a portion of a nerve, with other excruciating operations on young horses, under which they are often heard to squeal from pain--are inflicted on them, to comply with either a useless as well as a barbarous fashion;--or to enable them "to go for another season's hunting;"--or to make them "sound enough to sell;" or for the attainment of conveniences of which the horse derives not the smallest share: and as the high-bred, broken-down hunter has no voice to ask for mercy,--as he cannot boast of possessing reason,--as he has inherited no knowledge,--as he has no power to bequeath any,--as his whole energies have been devoted to the service and enjoyments of man, by whose mechanical contrivances he is now "cast" with his four feet shackled together, lying prostrate on a heap of straw;--just before the red-hot iron sears his over-strained sinews, or the sharp knife is inserted into his living flesh--surely, in a civilized country like England, some high power should be authorized to exclaim, not "Woodman, spare that tree!" but "_Sportsman, +SAVE+ that horse!_" by chloroform, from the agonising torture to which you have sentenced him!

You are a man of _pleasure_:--save him from unnecessary _pain_. You are a man of business:--inscribe in that ledger in which every one of the acts of your life is recorded, on one side how much _he_ will gain, and on the other, per contrà, how very little _you_ will lose, by the evaporation of a fluid that will not cost you the price of the shoes of the poor animal whose marketable value you have determined, by excruciating agony _to him_, to increase.

As he lies prostrate, all that is necessary to save him from suffering the smallest amount of pain is, to desire the operator with his left hand to close the animal's upper nostril, while beneath the lower one he places a quarter of a pint tin pot, containing a sponge, on which is gradually dropped, from a little vial, chloroform sufficient to deprive him of sensation, which can readily be tested by the occasional slight prick of a pin; and although, when thus lulled into an unconscious state, the noble animal may, during a dreadful operation, possibly dream that

"He sees war's lightning flashing,
Sees the claymore and bayonet clashing,
Sees through the blood the war-horse dashing"--

yet, on the restoration of sensation, which usually occurs some minutes after the operation is over, he calmly awakens, raises his head, and looks around, perfectly unconscious of all that has occurred to him!

In every point of view in which it can be considered, this boon, granted by Heaven to the brute beast, should not be withheld from him by man.

On Mr. Henry Thompson, the celebrated practising surgeon at University College Hospital, and also at Marylebone Dispensary, being lately asked, "What are the occasions on which you are in the habit of administering chloroform?" he energetically replied, "_For everything that gives +PAIN+._"

If, therefore, man to this enormous extent is benefited by chloroform, what right has he to withhold it from his own animals, to whom, not only in equity, but by the laws of God, it belongs as much as it belongs to him?

Their claims are so affecting, and so obvious, the remedy that would save them from all pain is so cheap and simple, that it is, we feel, only necessary to appeal to the public to obtain by acclamation a verdict in their favour.

Professor Spooner, in an address delivered by him to the students of the Veterinary College in October last, stated that in the two chief Veterinary Colleges in France--at Alfort and at Lyons--pupils, twice a week for seven hours a day, are instructed in surgery by the "_vivisection_" or cutting up of living horses, who, until they actually expire, are subjected to a series of cruelties which, although Mr. Spooner professionally described and deprecated, we dare not repeat.