Black Beauty The autobiography of a horse
else?”
“Well,” said he, “I hardly know; we always liked to hear the trumpet
sound, and to be called out, and were impatient to start off, though
sometimes we had to stand for hours, waiting for the word of command;
and when the word was given we used to spring forward as gayly and
eagerly as if there were no cannon balls, bayonets, or bullets. I
believe so long as we felt our rider firm in the saddle, and his hand
steady on the bridle, not one of us gave way to fear, not even when the
terrible bomb-shells whirled through the air and burst into a thousand
pieces.
“I, with my noble master, went into many actions together without a
wound; and though I saw horses shot down with bullets, pierced through
with lances, and gashed with fearful saber-cuts; though we left them
dead on the field, or dying in the agony of their wounds, I don't think
I feared for myself. My master's cheery voice, as he encouraged his
men, made me feel as if he and I could not be killed. I had such perfect
trust in him that while he was guiding me I was ready to charge up
to the very cannon's mouth. I saw many brave men cut down, many fall
mortally wounded from their saddles. I had heard the cries and groans
of the dying, I had cantered over ground slippery with blood, and
frequently had to turn aside to avoid trampling on wounded man or horse,
but, until one dreadful day, I had never felt terror; that day I shall
never forget.”
Here old Captain paused for awhile and drew a long breath; I waited, and
he went on.
“It was one autumn morning, and as usual, an hour before daybreak our
cavalry had turned out, ready caparisoned for the day's work, whether
it might be fighting or waiting. The men stood by their horses waiting,
ready for orders. As the light increased there seemed to be some
excitement among the officers; and before the day was well begun we
heard the firing of the enemy's guns.
“Then one of the officers rode up and gave the word for the men to
mount, and in a second every man was in his saddle, and every horse
stood expecting the touch of the rein, or the pressure of his rider's
heels, all animated, all eager; but still we had been trained so well
that, except by the champing of our bits, and the restive tossing of our
heads from time to time, it could not be said that we stirred.
“My dear master and I were at the head of the line, and as all sat
motionless and watchful, he took a little stray lock of my mane which
had turned over on the wrong side, laid it over on the right, and
smoothed it down with his hand; then patting my neck, he said, 'We shall
have a day of it to-day, Bayard, my beauty; but we'll do our duty as we
have done.' He stroked my neck that morning more, I think, than he had
ever done before; quietly on and on, as if he were thinking of something
else. I loved to feel his hand on my neck, and arched my crest proudly
and happily; but I stood very still, for I knew all his moods, and when
he liked me to be quiet, and when gay.
“I cannot tell all that happened on that day, but I will tell of the
last charge that we made together; it was across a valley right in front
of the enemy's cannon. By this time we were well used to the roar of
heavy guns, the rattle of musket fire, and the flying of shot near us;
but never had I been under such a fire as we rode through on that day.
From the right, from the left, and from the front, shot and shell poured
in upon us. Many a brave man went down, many a horse fell, flinging his
rider to the earth; many a horse without a rider ran wildly out of the
ranks; then terrified at being alone, with no hand to guide him, came
pressing in among his old companions, to gallop with them to the charge.
“Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one turned back. Every moment the
ranks were thinned, but as our comrades fell, we closed in to keep
them together; and instead of being shaken or staggered in our pace our
gallop became faster and faster as we neared the cannon.
“My master, my dear master was cheering on his comrades with his right
arm raised on high, when one of the balls whizzing close to my head
struck him. I felt him stagger with the shock, though he uttered no cry;
I tried to check my speed, but the sword dropped from his right hand,
the rein fell loose from the left, and sinking backward from the saddle
he fell to the earth; the other riders swept past us, and by the force
of their charge I was driven from the spot.
“I wanted to keep my place by his side and not leave him under that
rush of horses' feet, but it was in vain; and now without a master or a
friend I was alone on that great slaughter ground; then fear took hold
on me, and I trembled as I had never trembled before; and I too, as I
had seen other horses do, tried to join in the ranks and gallop with
them; but I was beaten off by the swords of the soldiers. Just then a
soldier whose horse had been killed under him caught at my bridle and
mounted me, and with this new master I was again going forward; but our
gallant company was cruelly overpowered, and those who remained alive
after the fierce fight for the guns came galloping back over the same
ground. Some of the horses had been so badly wounded that they could
scarcely move from the loss of blood; other noble creatures were trying
on three legs to drag themselves along, and others were struggling to
rise on their fore feet, when their hind legs had been shattered by
shot. After the battle the wounded men were brought in and the dead were
buried.”
“And what about the wounded horses?” I said; “were they left to die?”
“No, the army farriers went over the field with their pistols and shot
all that were ruined; some that had only slight wounds were brought back
and attended to, but the greater part of the noble, willing creatures
that went out that morning never came back! In our stables there was
only about one in four that returned.
“I never saw my dear master again. I believe he fell dead from the
saddle. I never loved any other master so well. I went into many other
engagements, but was only once wounded, and then not seriously; and when
the war was over I came back again to England, as sound and strong as
when I went out.”
I said, “I have heard people talk about war as if it was a very fine
thing.”
“Ah!” said he, “I should think they never saw it. No doubt it is very
fine when there is no enemy, when it is just exercise and parade and
sham fight. Yes, it is very fine then; but when thousands of good brave
men and horses are killed or crippled for life, it has a very different
look.”
“Do you know what they fought about?” said I.
“No,” he said, “that is more than a horse can understand, but the enemy
must have been awfully wicked people, if it was right to go all that way
over the sea on purpose to kill them.”
35 Jerry Barker
I never knew a better man than my new master. He was kind and good, and
as strong for the right as John Manly; and so good-tempered and merry
that very few people could pick a quarrel with him. He was very fond of
making little songs, and singing them to himself. One he was very fond
of was this:
“Come, father and mother,
And sister and brother,
Come, all of you, turn to
And help one another.”
And so they did; Harry was as clever at stable-work as a much older boy,
and always wanted to do what he could. Then Polly and Dolly used to come
in the morning to help with the cab--to brush and beat the cushions,
and rub the glass, while Jerry was giving us a cleaning in the yard, and
Harry was rubbing the harness. There used to be a great deal of laughing
and fun between them, and it put Captain and me in much better spirits
than if we had heard scolding and hard words. They were always early in
the morning, for Jerry would say:
“If you in the morning
Throw minutes away,
You can't pick them up
In the course of a day.
You may hurry and scurry,
And flurry and worry,
You've lost them forever,
Forever and aye.”
He could not bear any careless loitering and waste of time; and nothing
was so near making him angry as to find people, who were always late,
wanting a cab horse to be driven hard, to make up for their idleness.
One day two wild-looking young men came out of a tavern close by the
stand, and called Jerry.
“Here, cabby! look sharp, we are rather late; put on the steam, will
you, and take us to the Victoria in time for the one o'clock train? You
shall have a shilling extra.”
“I will take you at the regular pace, gentlemen; shillings don't pay for
putting on the steam like that.”
Larry's cab was standing next to ours; he flung open the door, and said,
“I'm your man, gentlemen! take my cab, my horse will get you there all
right;” and as he shut them in, with a wink toward Jerry, said, “It's
against his conscience to go beyond a jog-trot.” Then slashing his jaded
horse, he set off as hard as he could. Jerry patted me on the neck: “No,
Jack, a shilling would not pay for that sort of thing, would it, old
boy?”
Although Jerry was determinedly set against hard driving, to please
careless people, he always went a good fair pace, and was not against
putting on the steam, as he said, if only he knew why.
I well remember one morning, as we were on the stand waiting for a
fare, that a young man, carrying a heavy portmanteau, trod on a piece of
orange peel which lay on the pavement, and fell down with great force.
Jerry was the first to run and lift him up. He seemed much stunned, and
as they led him into a shop he walked as if he were in great pain. Jerry
of course came back to the stand, but in about ten minutes one of the
shopmen called him, so we drew up to the pavement.
“Can you take me to the South-Eastern Railway?” said the young man;
“this unlucky fall has made me late, I fear; but it is of great
importance that I should not lose the twelve o'clock train. I should be
most thankful if you could get me there in time, and will gladly pay you
an extra fare.”
“I'll do my very best,” said Jerry heartily, “if you think you are well
enough, sir,” for he looked dreadfully white and ill.
“I must go,” he said earnestly, “please to open the door, and let us
lose no time.”
The next minute Jerry was on the box; with a cheery chirrup to me, and a
twitch of the rein that I well understood.
“Now then, Jack, my boy,” said he, “spin along, we'll show them how we
can get over the ground, if we only know why.”
It is always difficult to drive fast in the city in the middle of the
day, when the streets are full of traffic, but we did what could be
done; and when a good driver and a good horse, who understand each
other, are of one mind, it is wonderful what they can do. I had a very
good mouth--that is I could be guided by the slightest touch of the
rein; and that is a great thing in London, among carriages, omnibuses,
carts, vans, trucks, cabs, and great wagons creeping along at a walking
pace; some going one way, some another, some going slowly, others
wanting to pass them; omnibuses stopping short every few minutes to take
up a passenger, obliging the horse that is coming behind to pull up too,
or to pass, and get before them; perhaps you try to pass, but just then
something else comes dashing in through the narrow opening, and you
have to keep in behind the omnibus again; presently you think you see a
chance, and manage to get to the front, going so near the wheels on each
side that half an inch nearer and they would scrape. Well, you get along
for a bit, but soon find yourself in a long train of carts and carriages
all obliged to go at a walk; perhaps you come to a regular block-up, and
have to stand still for minutes together, till something clears out into