Black Beauty The autobiography of a horse
some first-rate colt-breaker and horse-trainer, it would be the right
thing for me. Many young animals are frightened and spoiled by wrong
treatment, which need not be if the right man took them in hand. I
always get on well with horses, and if I could help some of them to a
fair start I should feel as if I was doing some good. What do you think
of it, sir?”
“I don't know a man anywhere,” said master, “that I should think so
suitable for it as yourself. You understand horses, and somehow they
understand you, and in time you might set up for yourself; I think you
could not do better. If in any way I can help you, write to me. I shall
speak to my agent in London, and leave your character with him.”
Master gave John the name and address, and then he thanked him for his
long and faithful service; but that was too much for John. “Pray, don't,
sir, I can't bear it; you and my dear mistress have done so much for
me that I could never repay it. But we shall never forget you, sir, and
please God, we may some day see mistress back again like herself; we
must keep up hope, sir.” Master gave John his hand, but he did not
speak, and they both left the stable.
The last sad day had come; the footman and the heavy luggage had gone
off the day before, and there were only master and mistress and her
maid. Ginger and I brought the carriage up to the hall door for the last
time. The servants brought out cushions and rugs and many other things;
and when all were arranged master came down the steps carrying the
mistress in his arms (I was on the side next to the house, and could see
all that went on); he placed her carefully in the carriage, while the
house servants stood round crying.
“Good-by, again,” he said; “we shall not forget any of you,” and he got
in. “Drive on, John.”
Joe jumped up, and we trotted slowly through the park and through the
village, where the people were standing at their doors to have a last
look and to say, “God bless them.”
When we reached the railway station I think mistress walked from the
carriage to the waiting-room. I heard her say in her own sweet voice,
“Good-by, John. God bless you.” I felt the rein twitch, but John made no
answer; perhaps he could not speak. As soon as Joe had taken the things
out of the carriage John called him to stand by the horses, while he
went on the platform. Poor Joe! he stood close up to our heads to hide
his tears. Very soon the train came puffing up into the station; then
two or three minutes, and the doors were slammed to, the guard whistled,
and the train glided away, leaving behind it only clouds of white smoke
and some very heavy hearts.
When it was quite out of sight John came back.
“We shall never see her again,” he said--“never.” He took the reins,
mounted the box, and with Joe drove slowly home; but it was not our home
now.
Part II
22 Earlshall
The next morning after breakfast Joe put Merrylegs into the mistress'
low chaise to take him to the vicarage; he came first and said good-by
to us, and Merrylegs neighed to us from the yard. Then John put the
saddle on Ginger and the leading rein on me, and rode us across the
country about fifteen miles to Earlshall Park, where the Earl of W----
lived. There was a very fine house and a great deal of stabling. We went
into the yard through a stone gateway, and John asked for Mr. York. It
was some time before he came. He was a fine-looking, middle-aged man,
and his voice said at once that he expected to be obeyed. He was very
friendly and polite to John, and after giving us a slight look he
called a groom to take us to our boxes, and invited John to take some
refreshment.
We were taken to a light, airy stable, and placed in boxes adjoining
each other, where we were rubbed down and fed. In about half an hour
John and Mr. York, who was to be our new coachman, came in to see us.
“Now, Mr. Manly,” he said, after carefully looking at us both, “I can
see no fault in these horses; but we all know that horses have their
peculiarities as well as men, and that sometimes they need different
treatment. I should like to know if there is anything particular in
either of these that you would like to mention.”
“Well,” said John, “I don't believe there is a better pair of horses in
the country, and right grieved I am to part with them, but they are not
alike. The black one is the most perfect temper I ever knew; I suppose
he has never known a hard word or a blow since he was foaled, and all
his pleasure seems to be to do what you wish; but the chestnut, I fancy,
must have had bad treatment; we heard as much from the dealer. She came
to us snappish and suspicious, but when she found what sort of place
ours was, it all went off by degrees; for three years I have never seen
the smallest sign of temper, and if she is well treated there is not
a better, more willing animal than she is. But she is naturally a more
irritable constitution than the black horse; flies tease her more;
anything wrong in the harness frets her more; and if she were ill-used
or unfairly treated she would not be unlikely to give tit for tat. You
know that many high-mettled horses will do so.”
“Of course,” said York, “I quite understand; but you know it is not easy
in stables like these to have all the grooms just what they should be. I
do my best, and there I must leave it. I'll remember what you have said
about the mare.”
They were going out of the stable, when John stopped and said, “I had
better mention that we have never used the check-rein with either of
them; the black horse never had one on, and the dealer said it was the
gag-bit that spoiled the other's temper.”
“Well,” said York, “if they come here they must wear the check-rein. I
prefer a loose rein myself, and his lordship is always very reasonable
about horses; but my lady--that's another thing; she will have style,
and if her carriage horses are not reined up tight she wouldn't look at
them. I always stand out against the gag-bit, and shall do so, but it
must be tight up when my lady rides!”
“I am sorry for it, very sorry,” said John; “but I must go now, or I
shall lose the train.”
He came round to each of us to pat and speak to us for the last time;
his voice sounded very sad.
I held my face close to him; that was all I could do to say good-by; and
then he was gone, and I have never seen him since.
The next day Lord W---- came to look at us; he seemed pleased with our
appearance.
“I have great confidence in these horses,” he said, “from the character
my friend Mr. Gordon has given me of them. Of course they are not a
match in color, but my idea is that they will do very well for the
carriage while we are in the country. Before we go to London I must try
to match Baron; the black horse, I believe, is perfect for riding.”
York then told him what John had said about us.
“Well,” said he, “you must keep an eye to the mare, and put the
check-rein easy; I dare say they will do very well with a little
humoring at first. I'll mention it to your lady.”
In the afternoon we were harnessed and put in the carriage, and as the
stable clock struck three we were led round to the front of the house.
It was all very grand, and three or four times as large as the old house
at Birtwick, but not half so pleasant, if a horse may have an opinion.
Two footmen were standing ready, dressed in drab livery, with scarlet
breeches and white stockings. Presently we heard the rustling sound of
silk as my lady came down the flight of stone steps. She stepped round
to look at us; she was a tall, proud-looking woman, and did not
seem pleased about something, but she said nothing, and got into the
carriage. This was the first time of wearing a check-rein, and I must
say, though it certainly was a nuisance not to be able to get my head
down now and then, it did not pull my head higher than I was accustomed
to carry it. I felt anxious about Ginger, but she seemed to be quiet and
content.
The next day at three o'clock we were again at the door, and the footmen
as before; we heard the silk dress rustle and the lady came down the
steps, and in an imperious voice she said, “York, you must put those
horses' heads higher; they are not fit to be seen.”
York got down, and said very respectfully, “I beg your pardon, my lady,
but these horses have not been reined up for three years, and my lord
said it would be safer to bring them to it by degrees; but if your
ladyship pleases I can take them up a little more.”
“Do so,” she said.
York came round to our heads and shortened the rein himself--one hole,
I think; every little makes a difference, be it for better or worse, and
that day we had a steep hill to go up. Then I began to understand what
I had heard of. Of course, I wanted to put my head forward and take the
carriage up with a will, as we had been used to do; but no, I had to
pull with my head up now, and that took all the spirit out of me, and
the strain came on my back and legs. When we came in Ginger said, “Now
you see what it is like; but this is not bad, and if it does not get
much worse than this I shall say nothing about it, for we are very well
treated here; but if they strain me up tight, why, let 'em look out! I
can't bear it, and I won't.”
Day by day, hole by hole, our bearing reins were shortened, and instead
of looking forward with pleasure to having my harness put on, as I used
to do, I began to dread it. Ginger, too, seemed restless, though she
said very little. At last I thought the worst was over; for several days
there was no more shortening, and I determined to make the best of
it and do my duty, though it was now a constant harass instead of a
pleasure; but the worst was not come.
23 A Strike for Liberty
One day my lady came down later than usual, and the silk rustled more
than ever.
“Drive to the Duchess of B----'s,” she said, and then after a pause,
“Are you never going to get those horses' heads up, York? Raise them at
once and let us have no more of this humoring and nonsense.”
York came to me first, while the groom stood at Ginger's head. He drew
my head back and fixed the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable;
then he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerking her head up and down
against the bit, as was her way now. She had a good idea of what was
coming, and the moment York took the rein off the terret in order to
shorten it she took her opportunity and reared up so suddenly that York
had his nose roughly hit and his hat knocked off; the groom was nearly
thrown off his legs. At once they both flew to her head; but she was
a match for them, and went on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most
desperate manner. At last she kicked right over the carriage pole and
fell down, after giving me a severe blow on my near quarter. There is no
knowing what further mischief she might have done had not York promptly
sat himself down flat on her head to prevent her struggling, at the
same time calling out, “Unbuckle the black horse! Run for the winch and
unscrew the carriage pole! Cut the trace here, somebody, if you can't
unhitch it!” One of the footmen ran for the winch, and another brought
a knife from the house. The groom soon set me free from Ginger and the
carriage, and led me to my box. He just turned me in as I was and ran
back to York. I was much excited by what had happened, and if I had ever
been used to kick or rear I am sure I should have done it then; but
I never had, and there I stood, angry, sore in my leg, my head still
strained up to the terret on the saddle, and no power to get it down. I
was very miserable and felt much inclined to kick the first person who
came near me.
Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two grooms, a good deal