Ditching the Sidesaddle
Some women took the practice of sidesaddle riding to new heights – literally. Here’s Esther Stace, an Australian equestrian, who set a sidesaddle high jump record of 6 foot 6 inches in 1915. The record stood for 98 years.
When I tell people I’m from Montana their faces tend to contort into quizzical wonder. “I’ve never met anyone from Montana” is often the first response, followed these days by “I love the series ‘Yellowstone.’ Is life in Montana really like that?”
Answer: No. Though admittedly I haven’t watched the show. From what I understand, though, the characters and plot are rather melodramatic, which doesn’t resonate with the Montana I know. Montana friends who have watched the series tell me that the horse scenes are realistic enough, that the actors perform their own riding and stunts, except in particularly risky cases where stunt doubles are called on.
I had this on my mind when I visited an exhibit at the local Yellowstone County Museum about riding sidesaddle. For anyone with general knowledge of horses, the practice of riding sidesaddle is largely associated with women, with a history that goes back to at least the 1300s. The practice developed both out of a sense of modesty and decorum and for practical reasons; European dress styles, themselves a symbol of modesty and decorum, made it challenging to ride astride a horse.
Fast forward to Montana in the late 1800s. Horses were central to life in the state. They were a chief means of transportation, vital for hunting, and key for ranching and farming activities. They’d been introduced to the region by indigenous peoples, who saw no need for their women to ride sidesaddle. And yet … Victorian morals followed the pioneering women who made their way to Montana in its early days as a state. Despite taking on the rough realities of making a life here, much of which involved riding horses, they did so in long flowing skirts, which made riding astride an impracticality.
By the early 1900s, with the rise of the second generation of settlers in Montana, women began to assert themselves, rebelling against the impracticalities and discomfort of sidesaddle riding by adopting a new means of dress -- the split skirt and breeches – and riding astride. This caused uproar among some moralists, including this male writer in the Los Angeles Times who wrote: “The woman does not live who can throw her leg over the back of a horse without profaning the grace of femininity; or grasp with her separated knees the shoulders of her mount without violating the laws of good taste; or appear in the cross-saddle with any semblance of dignity, elegance or poise.” This view was met with backlash from those advocating for the health and vitality of woman and horse, both of whom suffered physically from the posture women had to adopt to stay in the saddle. It took courageous women to turn the tide, like Mary Kempton Phillips who was a professional horsewoman with the Buffalo Bill show, and photojournalist Evelyn Cameron, who rode into town astride their horses, under the scrutiny of law enforcement and local scolds. They and other daring women moved the needle on outdated laws and social mores, ultimately culminating in women’s suffrage in Montana by 1919, a year before women won the vote nationally.
Ditching the sidesaddle was a direct precursor to greater political, economic and social freedoms for women in Montana, and nationwide. This has laid the groundwork for the emergence of strong female leaders like Kamala Harris.
What are some modern-day versions of the sidesaddle, an uncomfortable, impractical, bordering-on-injurious practice designed to keep women in their place? I bet you can come up with a few. Let me know what comes to mind. I’m here in my sidecar to help daring women summon the courage to ditch their sidesaddles and ride boldly into town like Mary, Evelyn and Kamala. We’ll call on stunt doubles if necessary!
Yours in shunning sidesaddles for sidecars,
Bridget
