Black Beauty The autobiography of a horse
there may be some nervous horses who have been hurt or frightened when
they were young, who may be the better for them; but as I never was
nervous, I can't judge.”
“I consider,” said Sir Oliver, “that blinkers are dangerous things in
the night; we horses can see much better in the dark than men can, and
many an accident would never have happened if horses might have had the
full use of their eyes. Some years ago, I remember, there was a hearse
with two horses returning one dark night, and just by Farmer Sparrow's
house, where the pond is close to the road, the wheels went too near the
edge, and the hearse was overturned into the water; both the horses were
drowned, and the driver hardly escaped. Of course after this accident
a stout white rail was put up that might be easily seen, but if those
horses had not been partly blinded, they would of themselves have kept
further from the edge, and no accident would have happened. When our
master's carriage was overturned, before you came here, it was said that
if the lamp on the left side had not gone out, John would have seen the
great hole that the road-makers had left; and so he might, but if old
Colin had not had blinkers on he would have seen it, lamp or no lamp,
for he was far too knowing an old horse to run into danger. As it was,
he was very much hurt, the carriage was broken, and how John escaped
nobody knew.”
“I should say,” said Ginger, curling her nostril, “that these men, who
are so wise, had better give orders that in the future all foals should
be born with their eyes set just in the middle of their foreheads,
instead of on the side; they always think they can improve upon nature
and mend what God has made.”
Things were getting rather sore again, when Merrylegs held up his
knowing little face and said, “I'll tell you a secret: I believe John
does not approve of blinkers; I heard him talking with master about it
one day. The master said that 'if horses had been used to them, it might
be dangerous in some cases to leave them off'; and John said he thought
it would be a good thing if all colts were broken in without blinkers,
as was the case in some foreign countries. So let us cheer up, and have
a run to the other end of the orchard; I believe the wind has blown down
some apples, and we might just as well eat them as the slugs.”
Merrylegs could not be resisted, so we broke off our long conversation,
and got up our spirits by munching some very sweet apples which lay
scattered on the grass.
11 Plain Speaking
The longer I lived at Birtwick the more proud and happy I felt at having
such a place. Our master and mistress were respected and beloved by all
who knew them; they were good and kind to everybody and everything; not
only men and women, but horses and donkeys, dogs and cats, cattle and
birds; there was no oppressed or ill-used creature that had not a friend
in them, and their servants took the same tone. If any of the village
children were known to treat any creature cruelly they soon heard about
it from the Hall.
The squire and Farmer Grey had worked together, as they said, for more
than twenty years to get check-reins on the cart-horses done away with,
and in our parts you seldom saw them; and sometimes, if mistress met
a heavily laden horse with his head strained up she would stop the
carriage and get out, and reason with the driver in her sweet serious
voice, and try to show him how foolish and cruel it was.
I don't think any man could withstand our mistress. I wish all ladies
were like her. Our master, too, used to come down very heavy sometimes.
I remember he was riding me toward home one morning when we saw a
powerful man driving toward us in a light pony chaise, with a beautiful
little bay pony, with slender legs and a high-bred sensitive head and
face. Just as he came to the park gates the little thing turned toward
them; the man, without word or warning, wrenched the creature's head
round with such a force and suddenness that he nearly threw it on its
haunches. Recovering itself it was going on, when he began to lash it
furiously. The pony plunged forward, but the strong, heavy hand held the
pretty creature back with force almost enough to break its jaw, while
the whip still cut into him. It was a dreadful sight to me, for I knew
what fearful pain it gave that delicate little mouth; but master gave me
the word, and we were up with him in a second.
“Sawyer,” he cried in a stern voice, “is that pony made of flesh and
blood?”
“Flesh and blood and temper,” he said; “he's too fond of his own will,
and that won't suit me.” He spoke as if he was in a strong passion. He
was a builder who had often been to the park on business.
“And do you think,” said master sternly, “that treatment like this will
make him fond of your will?”
“He had no business to make that turn; his road was straight on!” said
the man roughly.
“You have often driven that pony up to my place,” said master; “it only
shows the creature's memory and intelligence; how did he know that you
were not going there again? But that has little to do with it. I must
say, Mr. Sawyer, that a more unmanly, brutal treatment of a little
pony it was never my painful lot to witness, and by giving way to such
passion you injure your own character as much, nay more, than you injure
your horse; and remember, we shall all have to be judged according to
our works, whether they be toward man or toward beast.”
Master rode me home slowly, and I could tell by his voice how the thing
had grieved him. He was just as free to speak to gentlemen of his own
rank as to those below him; for another day, when we were out, we met
a Captain Langley, a friend of our master's; he was driving a splendid
pair of grays in a kind of break. After a little conversation the
captain said:
“What do you think of my new team, Mr. Douglas? You know, you are the
judge of horses in these parts, and I should like your opinion.”
The master backed me a little, so as to get a good view of them. “They
are an uncommonly handsome pair,” he said, “and if they are as good as
they look I am sure you need not wish for anything better; but I see
you still hold that pet scheme of yours for worrying your horses and
lessening their power.”
“What do you mean,” said the other, “the check-reins? Oh, ah! I know
that's a hobby of yours; well, the fact is, I like to see my horses hold
their heads up.”
“So do I,” said master, “as well as any man, but I don't like to
see them held up; that takes all the shine out of it. Now, you are a
military man, Langley, and no doubt like to see your regiment look well
on parade, 'heads up', and all that; but you would not take much credit
for your drill if all your men had their heads tied to a backboard! It
might not be much harm on parade, except to worry and fatigue them; but
how would it be in a bayonet charge against the enemy, when they want
the free use of every muscle, and all their strength thrown forward? I
would not give much for their chance of victory. And it is just the same
with horses: you fret and worry their tempers, and decrease their power;
you will not let them throw their weight against their work, and so
they have to do too much with their joints and muscles, and of course
it wears them up faster. You may depend upon it, horses were intended
to have their heads free, as free as men's are; and if we could act a
little more according to common sense, and a good deal less according
to fashion, we should find many things work easier; besides, you know as
well as I that if a horse makes a false step, he has much less chance
of recovering himself if his head and neck are fastened back. And now,”
said the master, laughing, “I have given my hobby a good trot out, can't
you make up your mind to mount him, too, captain? Your example would go
a long way.”
“I believe you are right in theory,” said the other, “and that's rather
a hard hit about the soldiers; but--well--I'll think about it,” and so
they parted.
12 A Stormy Day
One day late in the autumn my master had a long journey to go on
business. I was put into the dog-cart, and John went with his master. I
always liked to go in the dog-cart, it was so light and the high wheels
ran along so pleasantly. There had been a great deal of rain, and now
the wind was very high and blew the dry leaves across the road in a
shower. We went along merrily till we came to the toll-bar and the low
wooden bridge. The river banks were rather high, and the bridge, instead
of rising, went across just level, so that in the middle, if the river
was full, the water would be nearly up to the woodwork and planks; but
as there were good substantial rails on each side, people did not mind
it.
The man at the gate said the river was rising fast, and he feared it
would be a bad night. Many of the meadows were under water, and in one
low part of the road the water was halfway up to my knees; the bottom
was good, and master drove gently, so it was no matter.
When we got to the town of course I had a good bait, but as the master's
business engaged him a long time we did not start for home till rather
late in the afternoon. The wind was then much higher, and I heard the
master say to John that he had never been out in such a storm; and so I
thought, as we went along the skirts of a wood, where the great branches
were swaying about like twigs, and the rushing sound was terrible.
“I wish we were well out of this wood,” said my master.
“Yes, sir,” said John, “it would be rather awkward if one of these
branches came down upon us.”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there was a groan, and a
crack, and a splitting sound, and tearing, crashing down among the other
trees came an oak, torn up by the roots, and it fell right across the
road just before us. I will never say I was not frightened, for I was. I
stopped still, and I believe I trembled; of course I did not turn round
or run away; I was not brought up to that. John jumped out and was in a
moment at my head.
“That was a very near touch,” said my master. “What's to be done now?”
“Well, sir, we can't drive over that tree, nor yet get round it; there
will be nothing for it, but to go back to the four crossways, and that
will be a good six miles before we get round to the wooden bridge again;
it will make us late, but the horse is fresh.”
So back we went and round by the crossroads, but by the time we got to
the bridge it was very nearly dark; we could just see that the water was
over the middle of it; but as that happened sometimes when the floods
were out, master did not stop. We were going along at a good pace, but
the moment my feet touched the first part of the bridge I felt sure
there was something wrong. I dare not go forward, and I made a dead
stop. “Go on, Beauty,” said my master, and he gave me a touch with the
whip, but I dare not stir; he gave me a sharp cut; I jumped, but I dare
not go forward.
“There's something wrong, sir,” said John, and he sprang out of the
dog-cart and came to my head and looked all about. He tried to lead me
forward. “Come on, Beauty, what's the matter?” Of course I could not
tell him, but I knew very well that the bridge was not safe.
Just then the man at the toll-gate on the other side ran out of the
house, tossing a torch about like one mad.
“Hoy, hoy, hoy! halloo! stop!” he cried.
“What's the matter?” shouted my master.
“The bridge is broken in the middle, and part of it is carried away; if
you come on you'll be into the river.”
“Thank God!” said my master. “You Beauty!” said John, and took the
bridle and gently turned me round to the right-hand road by the river
side. The sun had set some time; the wind seemed to have lulled off