On the outbreak of the war, volunteers enlisted in the Federal cavalry,
who--far from being able to manage a horse--could not bridle one without
assistance; and a conscript, who could keep his saddle through an entire
day, without "taking a voluntary," was considered by his fellows as a
credit to the regiment, and almost an accomplished dragoon. Such a thing
as a military riding-school has, I believe, never been thought of, away
from West Point; the drill is simply that of mounted infantry. Things
are better now than they were; a Federal cavalryman can at least sit
saddle-fast, to receive and return a sabre-cut; there have been some
sharp skirmishes of late, and, allowing for exaggeration, Averill's
encounter with Fitzhugh Lee brought out real work on both sides.
Looking at that squalid encampment, it was easy to realize all one had
heard of the mortality among the horses in the Army of the Potomac,
where no natural causes could justify it. Unless some sympathy exists
between the two--unless the trooper takes some pride or interest in the
animal he rides beyond that of being conveyed safely from point to
point--it is vain to expect that the comforts of the latter will be
greatly cared for. General orders are powerless here, and the personal
supervision of the officers--even if "stables" were as carefully
attended as in our own service--would only touch the surface of the
evil.
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