It drove him wild.
Again and again he bounded into the air, and then, seizing the bit between his teeth, he plunged down the slope and galloped after the dogs.

I swore, and tugged, and pulled, but I was powerless.
This English General rode his horse with a snaffle only, and the beast had a mouth of iron.

It was useless to pull him back.

One might as well try to keep a Grenadier from a wine bottle.

I gave it up in despair, and, settling down in the saddle, I prepared for the worst which could befall.
What a creature he was! Never have I felt such a horse between my knees.