ON HORSES.
To define a perfect Horse is almost, and to find one, quite impossible.—Camerarius says, that this useful and beautiful creature is an assemblage of Excellencies—“He should possess Two of the Beauties of a Woman; the Breast must be plump, and the Hips round.—In three things he should resemble a Lion; in ferocity of countenance, in fortitude, and irresistible impetuosity. He must have three things appertaining to a Sheep;—the nose, gentleness, and patience;—three of a Mule, strength, perseverance, and sureness of foot;—three of a Deer, head, legs, and skin;—three of a Wolf, throat, neck, and ears;—two of a Fox, tail and trot;—three of a Serpent, memory, sight, and flexibility;—and lastly, three of a Hare, running, walking, and perseverance.
“Round hoofed, short jointed, Fetlock shag and long.
“Broad Breast, full Eyes, small Head, and Nostrils wide.
“High Crest, short Ears, strait Legs, and passing Strong.
“Thin Mane, thick Tail, broad Buttocks, tender Hide.”—Shakespeare’s Horse of Adonis.
No man who has witnessed the performance of Mr. Ducrow’s stud in “the Battle of Waterloo” at Astley’s, will deny, that our Poet Pope’s epithet of “half-reasoning” is not quite as justly due to the sagacity of the Horse, as it is to the Elephant.
It would be Injustice not to add, that the energetic and natural acting of Mr. Gomersal in his personation of “Buonaparte,” is as perfect a performance as the English stage can exhibit.
The whole of this Drama is a very extraordinary effort, and does great credit to the ingenious author of it, Mr. J. Amherst.
The figure and symmetry of the Horse is no where more perfectly displayed, than in the Equestrian Statue of Charles the First, at Charing Cross, which is said to be the most finished piece of workmanship of its kind ever produced: that of Marcus Aurelius, or the two Horses on the Monte Cavallo, or Quirino at Rome, not excepted.
Continually, however, in our sight, this “Chef d’Œuvre” is not only disregarded, but neglected.
English Horses, are equally remarkable for their Strength and for their Speed.
Pack Horses in Yorkshire carry, not unusually, loads of 420 Pounds.
A London Dray Horse has been known to move, on a plane surface for a short space, the weight of Three Tons, and to draw half that weight a considerable distance.
On the Turnpike road, one Ton per horse is the Weight usually allowed for a Journey.
The famous Childers moved 82½ Feet in one second of time, which is nearly at the rate of a Mile in a Minute; for he ran round a course at Newmarket (little less than four miles) in six minutes and forty seconds; a degree of Velocity, which no horse has been known to exceed.
Another account avers that he ran over another course at Newmarket (which is 380 yards more than Four English Miles) in 7½ Minutes.
In general, the Racers run round the Four Mile course in about seven minutes and forty seconds, or eight minutes, which gives Forty-four feet six inches in one second of time, and twenty-four English feet at each stretch.
The late Duke of Queensberry, on the 29th of August, 1750, won his wager, that he would produce a machine, with four wheels, which should pass over 19 miles in six minutes. The Carriage was made by Wright, of Long Acre, and was constructed partly of Wood and partly of Whalebone; and for the Harness, Silk was substituted for Leather.
The match was run at Newmarket, and four blood Horses rushing on with a velocity almost rivalling the progress of sound, darted within the appointed time to the Goal.—See an Engraving and particular Account of this Carriage in the Gents. Mag. for 1756, p. 440.
It would be happy if a Law were passed to prevent the furious spirit of Gaming which prevails at Horse Races:—this amusement might also be rendered useful, which it is not at present, for Horses of most Speed, are generally of least Use.
If Premiums were allotted to those who brought to the field the strongest and most beautiful Horses of the best paces for the Saddle, Coach, or Cart, the Breed of these useful Animals might be really improved.
As managed at present, Horse Racing is but one remove from the barbarous practice of “Bear-baiting,” and “Bull-baiting,” against which that excellent practical philosopher, Montaigne, has protested his honest Indignation, that “Few people are pleased to see Beasts caress, or play together; but many seem delighted to see them lacerate and worry one another.”