Black Beauty (2 page)

I was now beginning to grow handsome; my coat had grown fine and
soft, and was bright black. I had one white foot and a pretty white
star on my forehead. I was thought very handsome; my master would
not sell me till I was four years old; he said lads ought not to
work like men, and colts ought not to work like horses till they
were quite grown up.

When I was four years old Squire Gordon came to look at me. He
examined my eyes, my mouth, and my legs; he felt them all down; and
then I had to walk and trot and gallop before him. He seemed to
like me, and said, "When he has been well broken in he will do very
well." My master said 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."

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."

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 common and the Highwood, and back by the
watermill and the river; that will show his paces."

"I will, sir," said John. After breakfast he came and fitted me
with a bridle. He was very particular in letting out and taking in
the straps, to fit my head comfortably; then he brought a saddle,
but it was not broad enough for my back; he saw it in a minute and
went for another, which fitted nicely. He rode me first slowly,
then a trot, then a canter, and when we were on the common he gave
me a light touch with his whip, and we had a splendid gallop.

"Ho, ho! my boy," he said, as he pulled me up, "you would like
to follow the hounds, I think."

As we came back through the park we met the Squire and Mrs.
Gordon walking; they stopped, and John jumped off.

"Well, John, how does he go?"

"First-rate, sir," answered John; "he is as fleet as a deer, and
has a fine spirit too; but the lightest touch of the rein will
guide him. Down at the end of the common we met one of those
traveling carts hung all over with baskets, rugs, and such like;
you know, sir, many horses will not pass those carts quietly; he
just took a good look at it, and then went on as quiet and pleasant
as could be. They were shooting rabbits near the Highwood, and a
gun went off close by; he pulled up a little and looked, but did
not stir a step to right or left. I just held the rein steady and
did not hurry him, and it's my opinion he has not been frightened
or ill-used while he was young."

"That's well," said the squire, "I will try him myself
to-morrow."

The next day I was brought up for my master. I remembered my
mother's counsel and my good old master's, and I tried to do
exactly what he wanted me to do. I found he was a very good rider,
and thoughtful for his horse too. When he came home the lady was at
the hall door as he rode up.

"Well, my dear," she said, "how do you like him?"

"He is exactly what John said," he replied; "a pleasanter
creature I never wish to mount. What shall we call him?"

"Would you like Ebony?" said she; "he is as black as ebony."

"No, not Ebony."

"Will you call him Blackbird, like your uncle's old horse?"

"No, he is far handsomer than old Blackbird ever was."

"Yes," she said, "he is really quite a beauty, and he has such a
sweet, good-tempered face, and such a fine, intelligent eye—what do
you say to calling him Black Beauty?"

"Black Beauty—why, yes, I think that is a very good name. If you
like it shall be his name;" and so it was.

When John went into the stable he told James that master and
mistress had chosen a good, sensible English name for me, that
meant something; not like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. They
both laughed, and James said, "If it was not for bringing back the
past, I should have named him Rob Roy, for I never saw two horses
more alike."

"That's no wonder," said John; "didn't you know that Farmer
Grey's old Duchess was the mother of them both?"

I had never heard that before; and so poor Rob Roy who was
killed at that hunt was my brother! I did not wonder that my mother
was so troubled. It seems that horses have no relations; at least
they never know each other after they are sold.

John seemed very proud of me; he used to make my mane and tail
almost as smooth as a lady's hair, and he would talk to me a great
deal; of course I did not understand all he said, but I learned
more and more to know what he meant, and what he wanted me to do. I
grew very fond of him, he was so gentle and kind; he seemed to know
just how a horse feels, and when he cleaned me he knew the tender
places and the ticklish places; when he brushed my head he went as
carefully over my eyes as if they were his own, and never stirred
up any ill-temper.

James Howard, the stable boy, was just as gentle and pleasant in
his way, so I thought myself well off. There was another man who
helped in the yard, but he had very little to do with Ginger and
me.

A few days after this I had to go out with Ginger in the
carriage. I wondered how we should get on together; but except
laying her ears back when I was led up to her, she behaved very
well. She did her work honestly, and did her full share, and I
never wish to have a better partner in double harness. When we came
to a hill, instead of slackening her pace, she would throw her
weight right into the collar, and pull away straight up. We had
both the same sort of courage at our work, and John had oftener to
hold us in than to urge us forward; he never had to use the whip
with either of us; then our paces were much the same, and I found
it very easy to keep step with her when trotting, which made it
pleasant, and master always liked it when we kept step well, and so
did John. After we had been out two or three times together we grew
quite friendly and sociable, which made me feel very much at
home.

As for Merrylegs, he and I soon became great friends; he was
such a cheerful, plucky, good-tempered little fellow that he was a
favorite with every one, and especially with Miss Jessie and Flora,
who used to ride him about in the orchard, and have fine games with
him and their little dog Frisky.

Our master had two other horses that stood in another stable.
One was Justice, a roan cob, used for riding or for the luggage
cart; the other was an old brown hunter, named Sir Oliver; he was
past work now, but was a great favorite with the master, who gave
him the run of the park; he sometimes did a little light carting on
the estate, or carried one of the young ladies when they rode out
with their father, for he was very gentle and could be trusted with
a child as well as Merrylegs. The cob was a strong, well-made,
good-tempered horse, and we sometimes had a little chat in the
paddock, but of course I could not be so intimate with him as with
Ginger, who stood in the same stable.