Black Beauty (6 page)

Early one morning in December John had just led me into my box
after my daily exercise, and was strapping my cloth on and James
was coming in from the corn chamber with some oats, when the master
came into the stable. He looked rather serious, and held an open
letter in his hand. John fastened the door of my box, touched his
cap, and waited for orders.

"Good-morning, John," said the master. "I want to know if you
have any complaint to make of James."

"Complaint, sir? No, sir."

"Is he industrious at his work and respectful to you?"

"Yes, sir, always."

"You never find he slights his work when your back is
turned?"

"Never, sir."

"That's well; but I must put another question. Have you no
reason to suspect, when he goes out with the horses to exercise
them or to take a message, that he stops about talking to his
acquaintances, or goes into houses where he has no business,
leaving the horses outside?"

"No, sir, certainly not; and if anybody has been saying that
about James, I don't believe it, and I don't mean to believe it
unless I have it fairly proved before witnesses; it's not for me to
say who has been trying to take away James' character, but I will
say this, sir, that a steadier, pleasanter, honester, smarter young
fellow I never had in this stable. I can trust his word and I can
trust his work; he is gentle and clever with the horses, and I
would rather have them in charge with him than with half the young
fellows I know of in laced hats and liveries; and whoever wants a
character of James Howard," said John, with a decided jerk of his
head, "let them come to John Manly."

The master stood all this time grave and attentive, but as John
finished his speech a broad smile spread over his face, and looking
kindly across at James, who all this time had stood still at the
door, he said, "James, my lad, set down the oats and come here; I
am very glad to find that John's opinion of your character agrees
so exactly with my own. John is a cautious man," he said, with a
droll smile, "and it is not always easy to get his opinion about
people, so I thought if I beat the bush on this side the birds
would fly out, and I should learn what I wanted to know quickly; so
now we will come to business. I have a letter from my
brother-in-law, Sir Clifford Williams, of Clifford Hall. He wants
me to find him a trustworthy young groom, about twenty or
twenty-one, who knows his business. His old coachman, who has lived
with him thirty years, is getting feeble, and he wants a man to
work with him and get into his ways, who would be able, when the
old man was pensioned off, to step into his place. He would have
eighteen shillings a week at first, a stable suit, a driving suit,
a bedroom over the coachhouse, and a boy under him. Sir Clifford is
a good master, and if you could get the place it would be a good
start for you. I don't want to part with you, and if you left us I
know John would lose his right hand."

"That I should, sir," said John, "but I would not stand in his
light for the world."

"How old are you, James?" said master.

"Nineteen next May, sir."

"That's young; what do you think, John?"

"Well, sir, it is young; but he is as steady as a man, and is
strong, and well grown, and though he has not had much experience
in driving, he has a light firm hand and a quick eye, and he is
very careful, and I am quite sure no horse of his will be ruined
for want of having his feet and shoes looked after."

"Your word will go the furthest, John," said the master, "for
Sir Clifford adds in a postscript, 'If I could find a man trained
by your John I should like him better than any other;' so, James,
lad, think it over, talk to your mother at dinner-time, and then
let me know what you wish."

In a few days after this conversation it was fully settled that
James should go to Clifford Hall, in a month or six weeks, as it
suited his master, and in the meantime he was to get all the
practice in driving that could be given to him. I never knew the
carriage to go out so often before; when the mistress did not go
out the master drove himself in the two-wheeled chaise; but now,
whether it was master or the young ladies, or only an errand,
Ginger and I were put in the carriage and James drove us. At the
first John rode with him on the box, telling him this and that, and
after that James drove alone.

Then it was wonderful what a number of places the master would
go to in the city on Saturday, and what queer streets we were
driven through. He was sure to go to the railway station just as
the train was coming in, and cabs and carriages, carts and
omnibuses were all trying to get over the bridge together; that
bridge wanted good horses and good drivers when the railway bell
was ringing, for it was narrow, and there was a very sharp turn up
to the station, where it would not have been at all difficult for
people to run into each other, if they did not look sharp and keep
their wits about them.

After this it was decided by my master and mistress to pay a
visit to some friends who lived about forty-six miles from our
home, and James was to drive them. The first day we traveled
thirty-two miles. There were some long, heavy hills, but James
drove so carefully and thoughtfully that we were not at all
harassed. He never forgot to put on the brake as we went downhill,
nor to take it off at the right place. He kept our feet on the
smoothest part of the road, and if the uphill was very long, he set
the carriage wheels a little across the road, so as not to run
back, and gave us a breathing. All these little things help a horse
very much, particularly if he gets kind words into the bargain.

We stopped once or twice on the road, and just as the sun was
going down we reached the town where we were to spend the night. We
stopped at the principal hotel, which was in the market-place; it
was a very large one; we drove under an archway into a long yard,
at the further end of which were the stables and coachhouses. Two
hostlers came to take us out. The head hostler was a pleasant,
active little man, with a crooked leg, and a yellow striped
waistcoat. I never saw a man unbuckle harness so quickly as he did,
and with a pat and a good word he led me to a long stable, with six
or eight stalls in it, and two or three horses. The other man
brought Ginger; James stood by while we were rubbed down and
cleaned.

I never was cleaned so lightly and quickly as by that little old
man. When he had done James stepped up and felt me over, as if he
thought I could not be thoroughly done, but he found my coat as
clean and smooth as silk.

"Well," he said, "I thought I was pretty quick, and our John
quicker still, but you do beat all I ever saw for being quick and
thorough at the same time."

"Practice makes perfect," said the crooked little hostler, "and
'twould be a pity if it didn't; forty years' practice, and not
perfect! ha, ha! that would be a pity; and as to being quick, why,
bless you! that is only a matter of habit; if you get into the
habit of being quick it is just as easy as being slow; easier, I
should say; in fact it don't agree with my health to be hulking
about over a job twice as long as it need take. Bless you! I
couldn't whistle if I crawled over my work as some folks do! You
see, I have been about horses ever since I was twelve years old, in
hunting stables, and racing stables; and being small, ye see, I was
jockey for several years; but at the Goodwood, ye see, the turf was
very slippery and my poor Larkspur got a fall, and I broke my knee,
and so of course I was of no more use there. But I could not live
without horses, of course I couldn't, so I took to the hotels. And
I can tell ye it is a downright pleasure to handle an animal like
this, well-bred, well-mannered, well-cared-for; bless ye! I can
tell how a horse is treated. Give me the handling of a horse for
twenty minutes, and I'll tell you what sort of a groom he has had.
Look at this one, pleasant, quiet, turns about just as you want
him, holds up his feet to be cleaned out, or anything else you
please to wish; then you'll find another fidgety, fretty, won't
move the right way, or starts across the stall, tosses up his head
as soon as you come near him, lays his ears, and seems afraid of
you; or else squares about at you with his heels. Poor things! I
know what sort of treatment they have had. If they are timid it
makes them start or shy; if they are high-mettled it makes them
vicious or dangerous; their tempers are mostly made when they are
young. Bless you! they are like children, train 'em up in the way
they should go, as the good book says, and when they are old they
will not depart from it, if they have a chance."

"I like to hear you talk," said James, "that's the way we lay it
down at home, at our master's."

"Who is your master, young man? if it be a proper question. I
should judge he is a good one, from what I see."

"He is Squire Gordon, of Birtwick Park, the other side the
Beacon Hills," said James.

"Ah! so, so, I have heard tell of him; fine judge of horses,
ain't he? the best rider in the county."

"I believe he is," said James, "but he rides very little now,
since the poor young master was killed."

"Ah! poor gentleman; I read all about it in the paper at the
time. A fine horse killed, too, wasn't there?"

"Yes," said James; "he was a splendid creature, brother to this
one, and just like him."

"Pity! pity!" said the old man; "'twas a bad place to leap, if I
remember; a thin fence at top, a steep bank down to the stream,
wasn't it? No chance for a horse to see where he is going. Now, I
am for bold riding as much as any man, but still there are some
leaps that only a very knowing old huntsman has any right to take.
A man's life and a horse's life are worth more than a fox's tail;
at least, I should say they ought to be."

During this time the other man had finished Ginger and had
brought our corn, and James and the old man left the stable
together.

Later on in the evening a traveler's horse was brought in by the
second hostler, and while he was cleaning him a young man with a
pipe in his mouth lounged into the stable to gossip.

"I say, Towler," said the hostler, "just run up the ladder into
the loft and put some hay down into this horse's rack, will you?
only lay down your pipe."

"All right," said the other, and went up through the trapdoor;
and I heard him step across the floor overhead and put down the
hay. James came in to look at us the last thing, and then the door
was locked.

I cannot say how long I had slept, nor what time in the night it
was, but I woke up very uncomfortable, though I hardly knew why. I
got up; the air seemed all thick and choking. I heard Ginger
coughing and one of the other horses seemed very restless; it was
quite dark, and I could see nothing, but the stable seemed full of
smoke, and I hardly knew how to breathe.

The trapdoor had been left open, and I thought that was the
place it came through. I listened, and heard a soft rushing sort of
noise and a low crackling and snapping. I did not know what it was,
but there was something in the sound so strange that it made me
tremble all over. The other horses were all awake; some were
pulling at their halters, others stamping.

At last I heard steps outside, and the hostler who had put up
the traveler's horse burst into the stable with a lantern, and
began to untie the horses, and try to lead them out; but he seemed
in such a hurry and so frightened himself that he frightened me
still more. The first horse would not go with him; he tried the
second and third, and they too would not stir. He came to me next
and tried to drag me out of the stall by force; of course that was
no use. He tried us all by turns and then left the stable.

No doubt we were very foolish, but danger seemed to be all
round, and there was nobody we knew to trust in, and all was
strange and uncertain. The fresh air that had come in through the
open door made it easier to breathe, but the rushing sound overhead
grew louder, and as I looked upward through the bars of my empty
rack I saw a red light flickering on the wall. Then I heard a cry
of "Fire!" outside, and the old hostler quietly and quickly came
in; he got one horse out, and went to another, but the flames were
playing round the trapdoor, and the roaring overhead was
dreadful.

The next thing I heard was James' voice, quiet and cheery, as it
always was.

"Come, my beauties, it is time for us to be off, so wake up and
come along." I stood nearest the door, so he came to me first,
patting me as he came in.

"Come, Beauty, on with your bridle, my boy, we'll soon be out of
this smother." It was on in no time; then he took the scarf off his
neck, and tied it lightly over my eyes, and patting and coaxing he
led me out of the stable. Safe in the yard, he slipped the scarf
off my eyes, and shouted, "Here somebody! take this horse while I
go back for the other."

A tall, broad man stepped forward and took me, and James darted
back into the stable. I set up a shrill whinny as I saw him go.
Ginger told me afterward that whinny was the best thing I could
have done for her, for had she not heard me outside she would never
have had courage to come out.

There was much confusion in the yard; the horses being got out
of other stables, and the carriages and gigs being pulled out of
houses and sheds, lest the flames should spread further. On the
other side the yard windows were thrown up, and people were
shouting all sorts of things; but I kept my eye fixed on the stable
door, where the smoke poured out thicker than ever, and I could see
flashes of red light; presently I heard above all the stir and din
a loud, clear voice, which I knew was master's:

"James Howard! James Howard! Are you there?" There was no
answer, but I heard a crash of something falling in the stable, and
the next moment I gave a loud, joyful neigh, for I saw James coming
through the smoke leading Ginger with him; she was coughing
violently, and he was not able to speak.

"My brave lad!" said master, laying his hand on his shoulder,
"are you hurt?"

James shook his head, for he could not yet speak.

"Ay," said the big man who held me; "he is a brave lad, and no
mistake."

"And now," said master, "when you have got your breath, James,
we'll get out of this place as quickly as we can," and we were
moving toward the entry, when from the market-place there came a
sound of galloping feet and loud rumbling wheels.

"'Tis the fire-engine! the fire-engine!" shouted two or three
voices, "stand back, make way!" and clattering and thundering over
the stones two horses dashed into the yard with a heavy engine
behind them. The firemen leaped to the ground; there was no need to
ask where the fire was—it was rolling up in a great blaze from the
roof.

We got out as fast as we could into the broad quiet
market-place; the stars were shining, and except the noise behind
us, all was still. Master led the way to a large hotel on the other
side, and as soon as the hostler came, he said, "James, I must now
hasten to your mistress; I trust the horses entirely to you, order
whatever you think is needed," and with that he was gone. The
master did not run, but I never saw mortal man walk so fast as he
did that night.

There was a dreadful sound before we got into our stalls—the
shrieks of those poor horses that were left burning to death in the
stable—it was very terrible! and made both Ginger and me feel very
bad. We, however, were taken in and well done by.

The next morning the master came to see how we were and to speak
to James. I did not hear much, for the hostler was rubbing me down,
but I could see that James looked very happy, and I thought the
master was proud of him. Our mistress had been so much alarmed in
the night that the journey was put off till the afternoon, so James
had the morning on hand, and went first to the inn to see about our
harness and the carriage, and then to hear more about the fire.
When he came back we heard him tell the hostler about it. At first
no one could guess how the fire had been caused, but at last a man
said he saw Dick Towler go into the stable with a pipe in his
mouth, and when he came out he had not one, and went to the tap for
another. Then the under hostler said he had asked Dick to go up the
ladder to put down some hay, but told him to lay down his pipe
first. Dick denied taking the pipe with him, but no one believed
him. I remember our John Manly's rule, never to allow a pipe in the
stable, and thought it ought to be the rule everywhere.

James said the roof and floor had all fallen in, and that only
the black walls were standing; the two poor horses that could not
be got out were buried under the burnt rafters and tiles.