Black Beauty The autobiography of a horse
he would break me in himself, as he should not like me to be frightened
or hurt, and he lost no time about it, for the next day he began.
Every one may not know what breaking in is, therefore I will describe
it. It means to teach a horse to wear a saddle and bridle, and to carry
on his back a man, woman or child; to go just the way they wish, and to
go quietly. Besides this he has to learn to wear a collar, a crupper,
and a breeching, and to stand still while they are put on; then to have
a cart or a chaise fixed behind, so that he cannot walk or trot without
dragging it after him; and he must go fast or slow, just as his driver
wishes. He must never start at what he sees, nor speak to other horses,
nor bite, nor kick, nor have any will of his own; but always do his
master's will, even though he may be very tired or hungry; but the worst
of all is, when his harness is once on, he may neither jump for joy nor
lie down for weariness. So you see this breaking in is a great thing.
I had of course long been used to a halter and a headstall, and to be
led about in the fields and lanes quietly, but now I was to have a bit
and bridle; my master gave me some oats as usual, and after a good deal
of coaxing he got the bit into my mouth, and the bridle fixed, but it
was a nasty thing! Those who have never had a bit in their mouths cannot
think how bad it feels; a great piece of cold hard steel as thick as
a man's finger to be pushed into one's mouth, between one's teeth, and
over one's tongue, with the ends coming out at the corner of your mouth,
and held fast there by straps over your head, under your throat, round
your nose, and under your chin; so that no way in the world can you get
rid of the nasty hard thing; it is very bad! yes, very bad! at least I
thought so; but I knew my mother always wore one when she went out, and
all horses did when they were grown up; and so, what with the nice oats,
and what with my master's pats, kind words, and gentle ways, I got to
wear my bit and bridle.
Next came the saddle, but that was not half so bad; my master put it
on my back very gently, while old Daniel held my head; he then made the
girths fast under my body, patting and talking to me all the time; then
I had a few oats, then a little leading about; and this he did every
day till I began to look for the oats and the saddle. At length, one
morning, my master got on my back and rode me round the meadow on the
soft grass. It certainly did feel queer; but I must say I felt rather
proud to carry my master, and as he continued to ride me a little every
day I soon became accustomed to it.
The next unpleasant business was putting on the iron shoes; that too was
very hard at first. My master went with me to the smith's forge, to see
that I was not hurt or got any fright. The blacksmith took my feet in
his hand, one after the other, and cut away some of the hoof. It did not
pain me, so I stood still on three legs till he had done them all. Then
he took a piece of iron the shape of my foot, and clapped it on, and
drove some nails through the shoe quite into my hoof, so that the shoe
was firmly on. My feet felt very stiff and heavy, but in time I got used
to it.
And now having got so far, my master went on to break me to harness;
there were more new things to wear. First, a stiff heavy collar just
on my neck, and a bridle with great side-pieces against my eyes called
blinkers, and blinkers indeed they were, for I could not see on either
side, but only straight in front of me; next, there was a small saddle
with a nasty stiff strap that went right under my tail; that was the
crupper. I hated the crupper; to have my long tail doubled up and poked
through that strap was almost as bad as the bit. I never felt more like
kicking, but of course I could not kick such a good master, and so
in time I got used to everything, and could do my work as well as my
mother.
I must not forget to mention one part of my training, which I have
always considered a very great advantage. My master sent me for a
fortnight to a neighboring farmer's, who had a meadow which was skirted
on one side by the railway. Here were some sheep and cows, and I was
turned in among them.
I shall never forget the first train that ran by. I was feeding quietly
near the pales which separated the meadow from the railway, when I heard
a strange sound at a distance, and before I knew whence it came--with
a rush and a clatter, and a puffing out of smoke--a long black train of
something flew by, and was gone almost before I could draw my breath. I
turned and galloped to the further side of the meadow as fast as I could
go, and there I stood snorting with astonishment and fear. In the course
of the day many other trains went by, some more slowly; these drew up
at the station close by, and sometimes made an awful shriek and groan
before they stopped. I thought it very dreadful, but the cows went
on eating very quietly, and hardly raised their heads as the black
frightful thing came puffing and grinding past.
For the first few days I could not feed in peace; but as I found that
this terrible creature never came into the field, or did me any harm, I
began to disregard it, and very soon I cared as little about the passing
of a train as the cows and sheep did.
Since then I have seen many horses much alarmed and restive at the sight
or sound of a steam engine; but thanks to my good master's care, I am as
fearless at railway stations as in my own stable.
Now if any one wants to break in a young horse well, that is the way.
My master often drove me in double harness with my mother, because she
was steady and could teach me how to go better than a strange horse. She
told me the better I behaved the better I should be treated, and that
it was wisest always to do my best to please my master; “but,” said she,
“there are a great many kinds of men; there are good thoughtful men like
our master, that any horse may be proud to serve; and there are bad,
cruel men, who never ought to have a horse or dog to call their own.
Besides, there are a great many foolish men, vain, ignorant, and
careless, who never trouble themselves to think; these spoil more horses
than all, just for want of sense; they don't mean it, but they do it for
all that. I hope you will fall into good hands; but a horse never knows
who may buy him, or who may drive him; it is all a chance for us; but
still I say, do your best wherever it is, and keep up your good name.”
04 Birtwick Park
At this time I used to stand in the stable and my coat was brushed every
day till it shone like a rook's wing. It was early in May, when there
came a man from Squire Gordon's, who took me away to the hall. My master
said, “Good-by, Darkie; be a good horse, and always do your best.” I
could not say “good-by”, so I put my nose into his hand; he patted me
kindly, and I left my first home. As I lived some years with Squire
Gordon, I may as well tell something about the place.
Squire Gordon's park skirted the village of Birtwick. It was entered by
a large iron gate, at which stood the first lodge, and then you trotted
along on a smooth road between clumps of large old trees; then another
lodge and another gate, which brought you to the house and the gardens.
Beyond this lay the home paddock, the old orchard, and the stables.
There was accommodation for many horses and carriages; but I need only
describe the stable into which I was taken; this was very roomy, with
four good stalls; a large swinging window opened into the yard, which
made it pleasant and airy.
The first stall was a large square one, shut in behind with a wooden
gate; the others were common stalls, good stalls, but not nearly so
large; it had a low rack for hay and a low manger for corn; it was
called a loose box, because the horse that was put into it was not tied
up, but left loose, to do as he liked. It is a great thing to have a
loose box.
Into this fine box the groom put me; it was clean, sweet, and airy. I
never was in a better box than that, and the sides were not so high but
that I could see all that went on through the iron rails that were at
the top.
He gave me some very nice oats, he patted me, spoke kindly, and then
went away.
When I had eaten my corn I looked round. In the stall next to mine stood
a little fat gray pony, with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty head,
and a pert little nose.
I put my head up to the iron rails at the top of my box, and said, “How
do you do? What is your name?”
He turned round as far as his halter would allow, held up his head,
and said, “My name is Merrylegs. I am very handsome; I carry the young
ladies on my back, and sometimes I take our mistress out in the low
chair. They think a great deal of me, and so does James. Are you going
to live next door to me in the box?”
I said, “Yes.”
“Well, then,” he said, “I hope you are good-tempered; I do not like any
one next door who bites.”
Just then a horse's head looked over from the stall beyond; the ears
were laid back, and the eye looked rather ill-tempered. This was a tall
chestnut mare, with a long handsome neck. She looked across to me and
said:
“So it is you who have turned me out of my box; it is a very strange
thing for a colt like you to come and turn a lady out of her own home.”
“I beg your pardon,” I said, “I have turned no one out; the man who
brought me put me here, and I had nothing to do with it; and as to my
being a colt, I am turned four years old and am a grown-up horse. I
never had words yet with horse or mare, and it is my wish to live at
peace.”
“Well,” she said, “we shall see. Of course, I do not want to have words
with a young thing like you.” I said no more.
In the afternoon, when she went out, Merrylegs told me all about it.
“The thing is this,” said Merrylegs. “Ginger has a bad habit of biting
and snapping; that is why they call her Ginger, and when she was in the
loose box she used to snap very much. One day she bit James in the arm
and made it bleed, and so Miss Flora and Miss Jessie, who are very fond
of me, were afraid to come into the stable. They used to bring me nice
things to eat, an apple or a carrot, or a piece of bread, but after
Ginger stood in that box they dared not come, and I missed them very
much. I hope they will now come again, if you do not bite or snap.”
I told him I never bit anything but grass, hay, and corn, and could not
think what pleasure Ginger found it.
“Well, I don't think she does find pleasure,” says Merrylegs; “it is
just a bad habit; she says no one was ever kind to her, and why should
she not bite? Of course, it is a very bad habit; but I am sure, if all
she says be true, she must have been very ill-used before she came here.
John does all he can to please her, and James does all he can, and our
master never uses a whip if a horse acts right; so I think she might be
good-tempered here. You see,” he said, with a wise look, “I am twelve
years old; I know a great deal, and I can tell you there is not a better
place for a horse all round the country than this. John is the best
groom that ever was; he has been here fourteen years; and you never saw
such a kind boy as James is; so that it is all Ginger's own fault that
she did not stay in that box.”
05 A Fair Start
The name of the coachman was John Manly; he had a wife and one little
child, and they lived in the coachman's cottage, very near the stables.
The next morning he took me into the yard and gave me a good grooming,
and just as I was going into my box, with my coat soft and bright, the
squire came in to look at me, and seemed pleased. “John,” he said,
“I meant to have tried the new horse this morning, but I have other
business. You may as well take him around after breakfast; go by the