Dear Miss Element,
I went into your website in the hope of finding a proper mackintosh for myself as I know that even today rubber is the only thing that is really waterproof.
I saw your "rainwear club" page and was amused by it. Certainly all the stories ring totally true.
I was brought up in Surrey but my parents had a cottage on the edge of Exmoor where we went for holidays, mainly in the spring and autumn. It was my father who was a keen rider, not my mother, and he took us riding and hunting from nearby stables.
There were no stretch breeches or rubber riding boots in those days. We children (myself, my brother two years younger and my sister two years younger still) wore cavalry twill jods with jodphur boots, a riding cap, and a hacking jacket with tie on dry days. If it was wet we all had to wear riding mackintoshes.
My father wore a bowler and long leather boots but otherwise dressed just like us. It was a rule that we never cancelled horses once they had been booked and we rode in all weathers. There was no arguing about this. If we raised a voice of dissentment my father would say "Do you want a taste of Knobby?" and we immediately fell into line. Knobby was my father's long knobbly riding cane which he used instead of a whip. (We had all felt it across our bottoms on occasions, rarely in my and my sister's case, more often in my brother's).
The weather was, I am sure, wetter in those days fifty years ago, and when the rain came it seemed far heavier than it is today. We would often have 48 hours of solid downpour and we therefore found ourselves riding in the rain a good deal. We were tough and did not mind it too much. When it blew it could be unpleasant but if the rain came straight down in solid stairods I rather enjoyed it.
The good thing was that we always had top-of-the-range macks. When we grew out of them they were passed down to a younger sibling or kept for visitors but if they started to leak they were immediately discarded. Woollen jods that got wet were hell to dry and my mother insisted that we had the best waterproofs and, when necessary, wore them.
All our riding clothes were bought at a shop in Exeter called Windsors where my father had an account. We visited it every time we went to Exmoor to stock up with new riding clothes including our mackintoshes. (It still existed into the '80's but eventually its old fashioned ways led to its demise). The assistants were all men and they called us by our Christian names preceded by "Miss" (or "Mr" in the case of my brother). I can well remember being told "Now Miss Virginia, I think a longer mackintosh will fit you better now you're so tall!"
The riding macks that Windsors sold came in two lengths per size - regular and long - and in three weights, all of which were top quiality. Childrens mackintoshes were very white and quite light but very rubbery smelling and were called "Dartmoor", while adult sizes came in the medium weight "Exmoor" and the ultra heavy "Devon and Somerset", all named after the local hunts. Most ladies wore the "Exmoor" and most men the "D& S" although they were all said to be as waterproof as each other.
Unusually even the children's macks had a storm fastening on the collar - essential up on the moor. When I reached the age of 16 I was allowed long leather boots and breeches instead of jods. and johdpur boots and to my great excitement my father bought me a "D & S" riding mack. I was just reaching puberty (it happened later in those days) and began to feel a strange thrill when I went riding in this heavy rubber waterproof. It is a feeling that stayed with me throughout my riding life.
When we all went out in the rain we said we were "all macked
up". We would throw our whips and mackintoshes in the back of the car and
drive to the stables with the rain beating against the windscreen. If we were
just going out for a hack, the yard would be relatively deserted and one or
two of the stablegirls would appear, with their own macks on of course, to tell
us which horse or pony we were riding. We would pull our macks out of the boot
of the car, squabbling over which belonged to who, pull them on and do everything
up tightly, especially the collar. I started to realise that if I pulled the
belt tight I looked a bit alluring, and always did this even before I got to
16! We took our riding whips out last and got mounted. Can you imagine what
one man, one boy and two girls looked like all wearing riding macks as well
as the stablegirls. Six people in just one yard - no wonder thousands of those
waterproofs were sold each year.
On wet hunting mornings the scene was quite different. The yard would be full of up to a dozen people, all wearing riding mackintoshes, rushing around, getting onto their mounts and settling themselves in the saddle in their white waterproofs that quickly got darker in colour as the rain soaked into the cotton-covered rubber fabric.
There were two hotels in the nearby town of Dulverton and we were taken to Sunday lunch at "The Lamb" now and again. It was, and still is, full of photographs of the hunt meeting outside with most riders dressed in macks. That was a normal scene in those days. The other hotel was "The Lion" and we were always amused by the fact that there was a board on the wall outside it saying "Lion hunting stables".
Although in the wettest weather my father sometimes wore a mackintosh hunting apron under his mack, we seldom wore two mackintoshes at once. It was not necessary provided our own was really waterproof. If, during a holiday, one of our macks was found to be leaking, we did, on very rare occasions have to wear it as well as another either over our own if the nearest size spare one was larger, or under it if the spare one was smaller. As the oldest, any spare mackintoshes available for me were always smaller, rather tight and a bit uncomfortable: however, I only remember being made to wear two at a time once when I was about 14 and my last childs mack started to leak in the middle of a very wet week. The one I had grown out of and put aside on our trip 18 months before was produced and I was forced into it. I never found that very thrilling but would have done later - but by then I had my "D & S" which lasted, totally waterproof, until I could decide for myself what to wear. Eventually I did find that a really wet ride wearing two macks was exciting but it was through choice rather than obedience!
What a sad day it was when these lovely mackintoshes started to disappear and why do the few firms that still make them never advertise them or push them in front of the equestrian public?
Virginia
Dear Miss Virginia
How nice of you to write!
I know what you mean about riding macs more or less vanishing - once sparrows, now as rare as kites. It would be so awful if you just couldn't get hold of one - but happily, as you know, they are still available to the cognoscenti. From what everyone says not quite the quality of old, but still.
In these circs, if only the very few are to be found properly macked up, I think enthusiasts have to cultivate the pleasure of the twitcher - who gets so much more interest and excitement out of the kite than the sparrow - do you think?
Thank you so much for writing. We would love to hear more!
Lorraine
PS And thank you for typing your letter in such a large and clear font and layout. Of course it's best for me if it's electronic, but if that's impossible, large type and double spacing really helps.
L.
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