Louisa Jebb

Every age witnesses the birth of some great soul. Sometimes events bring these people to the attention of the world. More often than not, they alter the lives around them, then pass on quietly. Such a soul belonged to the author of this cherished book.

There was nothing in Louisa Jebb’s comfortable Victorian youth to indicate she would one day take to the saddle and pen one of the most eloquent equestrian travel books ever written.

Yet in the early years of the 20^th century, Jebb set out with a female companion to cross the Turkish Empire on horseback. To say they were unprepared to become Long Riders would be an understatement. Neither of them could speak the local language. Furthermore, both wore cumbersome full-length skirts and rode side-saddles. They were, in a word, enthusiastic amateurs who believed courage and common sense would see them through. Remarkably, it did.

Having hired a picturesque guide and reliable horses, they set out to explore the secret corners of the Sultan’s empire. What they discovered were guarded harems and regal Pashas, fabled rivers and a desert world of intense beauty. If Jebb rode into Turkey expecting to find adventure, she found it. Yet she discovered something else – nomadic freedom. It is her personal observations about this subject that set “By Desert Ways to Baghdad and Damascus” apart from other equestrian travel books. “In the untravelled parts of the East you reign supreme, there is no need to go about securely chained to a gold watch. Ignore Time, and he is your servant,” she observed wisely.

Sadly, revolution and death soon swept across this fabled land, wiping away the kingdom of the Turkish Caliphs and laying the foundations for the grief which enshrouds this unhappy part of the world today. Upon her return to “civilization” the author lamented about what she had found, then lost. “Last night we were dirty, isolated and free, tonight we are clean, sociable and trammelled. Last night the setting sun’s final message was burnt into us. Tonight the sunset passed unheeded as we sit imprisoned and oppressed by the confining walls of Damascus Palace Hotel. We are no longer princesses whose hands are kissed. We are now judged by the cost of our raiment.”

Few books contain as many great abiding truths as this one does.

Robin Hanbury-Tenison

Eighteen Hundred Miles on a Burmese Pony

George Younghusband

ISBN 1580481364

Prepare for a equestrian surprise.  If you think this book is another one of those tired 19^th century tales about a heroic white man making his way through a tract of nameless jungle – then think again.
For herein lies the tale of the most unlikely horse hero of that bygone era.
According to his own pen, young British Subaltern George Younghusband was, “sick of the pomps and vanities of this civilized world of ours.”
Though stationed in colorful India, Younghusband decided to spend his army leave by exploring southern Burma on horseback.
In early 1887 the adventurous, if inexperienced, equestrian explorer set off with a Ghurka orderly, a Madrassi cook, an interpreter known as “the Archbishop” and of course the hero of this tale, Joe the Burmese Pony.
There is no tale in all of equestrian travel literature which paints a picture of a more loveable scamp than Joe, this delightful four-footed rascal.
With his keen eye, Younghusband regales his readers with remarks on the customs of the country.  “The whole of our baggage was not more than two respectable mule loads but it made me positively weep to see a great brawny elephant looking quite injured at having to carry a load that one of our regimental mules would have smiled sarcastically at.”
Yet this is no story of brawny elephants.
It deals instead with Younghusband’s Burmese pony, who despite his diminutive size, gave the professional horseman more than he bargained for.
“Having been a cavalry soldier for some years, and rather fancying myself a decent rider, I had never viewed this small atom of horse-flesh otherwise than in the light of a means of conveyance when I was tired. However, he very soon knocked all that nonsense out of me; for he went off like a streak of lightning, stampeded the two elephants, who immediately devastated the village, and shed my goods on the roofs of houses.”
What follows is the good-hearted tale of a young man, discovering an enchanted country, aboard a once-in-a-lifetime horse.
“That pony of mine is quite the wickedest pony in Asia,” Younghusband recalled. ”He is only 12 hands high but contains all the mischievousness of fifty children. When I am in a hurry, he hides behind a tree. Do I want to give him his grain? He goes and stands on the far side of a quagmire. When I want to go slow, he runs away. When I want to go fast, he pretends to be lame. Is my dinner cooking on the fire? Off he goes and tips it over. When I have a basin of water to wash in, darned if he doesn’t drink it. Have I tied him up with everything I possess? He eludes it somehow. Am I dead tired and fast asleep? He sticks his nose into me.” the Long Rider lamented.
Complete with pencil drawings done by the author, this delightful book takes the reader on a mounted journey complete with the requisite adventures, but with the added delight of a pint-sized hero you’ll never forget.
Go to Barnes & Noble, or

Frederick Burnaby

ISBN 1590480317

In the Forbidden Land

Henry Savage Landor

ISBN 1580480740

The nineteenth century can rightly claim to have seen the birth and travels of a host of brave men and women who undertook great hardships in their quest for adventure. Legendary names come to mind like Sven Hedin, Sir Richard Burton and Isabella Bird. Yet sadly, one name is largely forgotten today, that is Henry Savage Landor.
Though Savage Landor became justly famous for making a series of trips to many outlandish and dangerous places, none of his trips aroused public sentiment like his famed journey through Tibet in the late 1890s. Fearing her covetous foreign neighbors in British-occupied India and Imperial China, this high Himalayan country had sealed her borders to outsiders. Thereafter a number of Europeans, including several British explorers, had been detected by Tibetan officials and turned back before they could reach the nation’s isolated capital at Lhasa.  With such a geographic prize at stake, Savage Landor determined to set off with a small group of native porters to reach the Tibetan capital, Lhasa, by stealth. To say he failed would be too polite a term for what occurred next.
After making his way across vast and primitive lands, the would-be explorer was detected by the Tibetans and arrested. Once they determined that the Englishman was traveling without the official sponsorship of his government, the situation turned from bad to worse. Savage Landor and his servants were first imprisoned, then brutally tortured. At one point the explorer had his arms tied behind his back. He was then mounted on a half-wild horse, placed in an infamous “torture saddle” that had spikes sticking into his back, and forced to ride many miles, all the while being slowly torn to bits by the cruel spikes.
Illustrated with hundreds of photographs and drawings, this blood-chilling account of equestrian adventure still makes for page-turning excitement.