Black Beauty (12 page)

My new master was an unmarried man. He lived at Bath, and was
much engaged in business. His doctor advised him to take horse
exercise, and for this purpose he bought me. He hired a stable a
short distance from his lodgings, and engaged a man named Filcher
as groom. My master knew very little about horses, but he treated
me well, and I should have had a good and easy place but for
circumstances of which he was ignorant. He ordered the best hay
with plenty of oats, crushed beans, and bran, with vetches, or rye
grass, as the man might think needful. I heard the master give the
order, so I knew there was plenty of good food, and I thought I was
well off.

For a few days all went on well. I found that my groom
understood his business. He kept the stable clean and airy, and he
groomed me thoroughly; and was never otherwise than gentle. He had
been an hostler in one of the great hotels in Bath. He had given
that up, and now cultivated fruit and vegetables for the market,
and his wife bred and fattened poultry and rabbits for sale. After
awhile it seemed to me that my oats came very short; I had the
beans, but bran was mixed with them instead of oats, of which there
were very few; certainly not more than a quarter of what there
should have been. In two or three weeks this began to tell upon my
strength and spirits. The grass food, though very good, was not the
thing to keep up my condition without corn. However, I could not
complain, nor make known my wants. So it went on for about two
months; and I wondered that my master did not see that something
was the matter. However, one afternoon he rode out into the country
to see a friend of his, a gentleman farmer, who lived on the road
to Wells.

This gentleman had a very quick eye for horses; and after he had
welcomed his friend he said, casting his eye over me:

"It seems to me, Barry, that your horse does not look so well as
he did when you first had him; has he been well?"

"Yes, I believe so," said my master; "but he is not nearly so
lively as he was; my groom tells me that horses are always dull and
weak in the autumn, and that I must expect it."

"Autumn, fiddlesticks!" said the farmer. "Why, this is only
August; and with your light work and good food he ought not to go
down like this, even if it was autumn. How do you feed him?"

My master told him. The other shook his head slowly, and began
to feel me over.

"I can't say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, but I am much
mistaken if your horse gets it. Have you ridden very fast?"

"No, very gently."

"Then just put your hand here," said he, passing his hand over
my neck and shoulder; "he is as warm and damp as a horse just come
up from grass. I advise you to look into your stable a little more.
I hate to be suspicious, and, thank heaven, I have no cause to be,
for I can trust my men, present or absent; but there are mean
scoundrels, wicked enough to rob a dumb beast of his food. You must
look into it." And turning to his man, who had come to take me,
"Give this horse a right good feed of bruised oats, and don't stint
him."

"Dumb beasts!" Yes, we are; but if I could have spoken I could
have told my master where his oats went to. My groom used to come
every morning about six o'clock, and with him a little boy, who
always had a covered basket with him. He used to go with his father
into the harness-room, where the corn was kept, and I could see
them, when the door stood ajar, fill a little bag with oats out of
the bin, and then he used to be off.

Five or six mornings after this, just as the boy had left the
stable, the door was pushed open, and a policeman walked in,
holding the child tight by the arm; another policeman followed, and
locked the door on the inside, saying, "Show me the place where
your father keeps his rabbits' food."

The boy looked very frightened and began to cry; but there was
no escape, and he led the way to the corn-bin. Here the policeman
found another empty bag like that which was found full of oats in
the boy's basket.

Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but they soon saw him,
and though he blustered a good deal they walked him off to the
"lock-up", and his boy with him. I heard afterward that the boy was
not held to be guilty, but the man was sentenced to prison for two
months.

My master was not immediately suited, but in a few days my new
groom came. He was a tall, good-looking fellow enough; but if ever
there was a humbug in the shape of a groom Alfred Smirk was the
man. He was very civil to me, and never used me ill; in fact, he
did a great deal of stroking and patting when his master was there
to see it. He always brushed my mane and tail with water and my
hoofs with oil before he brought me to the door, to make me look
smart; but as to cleaning my feet or looking to my shoes, or
grooming me thoroughly, he thought no more of that than if I had
been a cow. He left my bit rusty, my saddle damp, and my crupper
stiff.

Alfred Smirk considered himself very handsome; he spent a great
deal of time about his hair, whiskers and necktie, before a little
looking-glass in the harness-room. When his master was speaking to
him it was always, "Yes, sir; yes, sir"—touching his hat at every
word; and every one thought he was a very nice young man and that
Mr. Barry was very fortunate to meet with him. I should say he was
the laziest, most conceited fellow I ever came near. Of course, it
was a great thing not to be ill-used, but then a horse wants more
than that. I had a loose box, and might have been very comfortable
if he had not been too indolent to clean it out. He never took all
the straw away, and the smell from what lay underneath was very
bad; while the strong vapors that rose made my eyes smart and
inflame, and I did not feel the same appetite for my food.

One day his master came in and said, "Alfred, the stable smells
rather strong; should not you give that stall a good scrub and
throw down plenty of water?"

"Well, sir," he said, touching his cap, "I'll do so if you
please, sir; but it is rather dangerous, sir, throwing down water
in a horse's box; they are very apt to take cold, sir. I should not
like to do him an injury, but I'll do it if you please, sir."

"Well," said his master, "I should not like him to take cold;
but I don't like the smell of this stable. Do you think the drains
are all right?"

"Well, sir, now you mention it, I think the drain does sometimes
send back a smell; there may be something wrong, sir."

"Then send for the bricklayer and have it seen to," said his
master.

"Yes, sir, I will."

The bricklayer came and pulled up a great many bricks, but found
nothing amiss; so he put down some lime and charged the master five
shillings, and the smell in my box was as bad as ever. But that was
not all: standing as I did on a quantity of moist straw my feet
grew unhealthy and tender, and the master used to say:

"I don't know what is the matter with this horse; he goes very
fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid he will stumble."

"Yes, sir," said Alfred, "I have noticed the same myself, when I
have exercised him."

Now the fact was that he hardly ever did exercise me, and when
the master was busy I often stood for days together without
stretching my legs at all, and yet being fed just as high as if I
were at hard work. This often disordered my health, and made me
sometimes heavy and dull, but more often restless and feverish. He
never even gave me a meal of green food or a bran mash, which would
have cooled me, for he was altogether as ignorant as he was
conceited; and then, instead of exercise or change of food, I had
to take horse balls and draughts; which, beside the nuisance of
having them poured down my throat, used to make me feel ill and
uncomfortable.

One day my feet were so tender that, trotting over some fresh
stones with my master on my back, I made two such serious stumbles
that, as he came down Lansdown into the city, he stopped at the
farrier's, and asked him to see what was the matter with me. The
man took up my feet one by one and examined them; then standing up
and dusting his hands one against the other, he said:

"Your horse has got the 'thrush', and badly, too; his feet are
very tender; it is fortunate that he has not been down. I wonder
your groom has not seen to it before. This is the sort of thing we
find in foul stables, where the litter is never properly cleaned
out. If you will send him here to-morrow I will attend to the hoof,
and I will direct your man how to apply the liniment which I will
give him."

The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed and stuffed with
tow soaked in some strong lotion; and an unpleasant business it
was.

The farrier ordered all the litter to be taken out of my box day
by day, and the floor kept very clean. Then I was to have bran
mashes, a little green food, and not so much corn, till my feet
were well again. With this treatment I soon regained my spirits;
but Mr. Barry was so much disgusted at being twice deceived by his
grooms that he determined to give up keeping a horse, and to hire
when he wanted one. I was therefore kept till my feet were quite
sound, and was then sold again.

No doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place to those who have
nothing to lose; at any rate, there is plenty to see.

Long strings of young horses out of the country, fresh from the
marshes; and droves of shaggy little Welsh ponies, no higher than
Merrylegs; and hundreds of cart horses of all sorts, some of them
with their long tails braided up and tied with scarlet cord; and a
good many like myself, handsome and high-bred, but fallen into the
middle class, through some accident or blemish, unsoundness of
wind, or some other complaint. There were some splendid animals
quite in their prime, and fit for anything; they were throwing out
their legs and showing off their paces in high style, as they were
trotted out with a leading rein, the groom running by the side. But
round in the background there were a number of poor things, sadly
broken down with hard work, with their knees knuckling over and
their hind legs swinging out at every step, and there were some
very dejected-looking old horses, with the under lip hanging down
and the ears lying back heavily, as if there were no more pleasure
in life, and no more hope; there were some so thin you might see
all their ribs, and some with old sores on their backs and hips.
These were sad sights for a horse to look upon, who knows not but
he may come to the same state.

There was a great deal of bargaining, of running up and beating
down; and if a horse may speak his mind so far as he understands, I
should say there were more lies told and more trickery at that
horse fair than a clever man could give an account of. I was put
with two or three other strong, useful-looking horses, and a good
many people came to look at us. The gentlemen always turned from me
when they saw my broken knees; though the man who had me swore it
was only a slip in the stall.

The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then to look at my
eyes, then feel all the way down my legs, and give me a hard feel
of the skin and flesh, and then try my paces. It was wonderful what
a difference there was in the way these things were done. Some did
it in a rough, offhand way, as if one was only a piece of wood;
while others would take their hands gently over one's body, with a
pat now and then, as much as to say, "By your leave." Of course I
judged a good deal of the buyers by their manners to myself.

There was one man, I thought, if he would buy me, I should be
happy. He was not a gentleman, nor yet one of the loud, flashy sort
that call themselves so. He was rather a small man, but well made,
and quick in all his motions. I knew in a moment by the way he
handled me, that he was used to horses; he spoke gently, and his
gray eye had a kindly, cheery look in it. It may seem strange to
say—but it is true all the same—that the clean, fresh smell there
was about him made me take to him; no smell of old beer and
tobacco, which I hated, but a fresh smell as if he had come out of
a hayloft. He offered twenty-three pounds for me, but that was
refused, and he walked away. I looked after him, but he was gone,
and a very hard-looking, loud-voiced man came. I was dreadfully
afraid he would have me; but he walked off. One or two more came
who did not mean business. Then the hard-faced man came back again
and offered twenty-three pounds. A very close bargain was being
driven, for my salesman began to think he should not get all he
asked, and must come down; but just then the gray-eyed man came
back again. I could not help reaching out my head toward him. He
stroked my face kindly.

"Well, old chap," he said, "I think we should suit each other.
I'll give twenty-four for him."

"Say twenty-five and you shall have him."

"Twenty-four ten," said my friend, in a very decided tone, "and
not another sixpence—yes or no?"

"Done," said the salesman; "and you may depend upon it there's a
monstrous deal of quality in that horse, and if you want him for
cab work he's a bargain."

The money was paid on the spot, and my new master took my
halter, and led me out of the fair to an inn, where he had a saddle
and bridle ready. He gave me a good feed of oats and stood by while
I ate it, talking to himself and talking to me. Half an hour after
we were on our way to London, through pleasant lanes and country
roads, until we came into the great London thoroughfare, on which
we traveled steadily, till in the twilight we reached the great
city. The gas lamps were already lighted; there were streets to the
right, and streets to the left, and streets crossing each other,
for mile upon mile. I thought we should never come to the end of
them. At last, in passing through one, we came to a long cab stand,
when my rider called out in a cheery voice, "Good-night,
governor!"

"Halloo!" cried a voice. "Have you got a good one?"

"I think so," replied my owner.

"I wish you luck with him."

"Thank you, governor," and he rode on. We soon turned up one of
the side streets, and about halfway up that we turned into a very
narrow street, with rather poor-looking houses on one side, and
what seemed to be coach-houses and stables on the other.

My owner pulled up at one of the houses and whistled. The door
flew open, and a young woman, followed by a little girl and boy,
ran out. There was a very lively greeting as my rider
dismounted.

"Now, then, Harry, my boy, open the gates, and mother will bring
us the lantern."

The next minute they were all standing round me in a small
stable-yard.

"Is he gentle, father?"

"Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten; come and pat
him."

At once the little hand was patting about all over my shoulder
without fear. How good it felt!

"Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him down," said the
mother.

"Do, Polly, it's just what he wants; and I know you've got a
beautiful mash ready for me."

"Sausage dumpling and apple turnover!" shouted the boy, which
set them all laughing. I was led into a comfortable, clean-smelling
stall, with plenty of dry straw, and after a capital supper I lay
down, thinking I was going to be happy.