Black Beauty (18 page)

I was sold to a corn dealer and baker, whom Jerry knew, and with
him he thought I should have good food and fair work. In the first
he was quite right, and if my master had always been on the
premises I do not think I should have been overloaded, but there
was a foreman who was always hurrying and driving every one, and
frequently when I had quite a full load he would order something
else to be taken on. My carter, whose name was Jakes, often said it
was more than I ought to take, but the other always overruled him.
"'Twas no use going twice when once would do, and he chose to get
business forward."

Jakes, like the other carters, always had the check-rein up,
which prevented me from drawing easily, and by the time I had been
there three or four months I found the work telling very much on my
strength.

One day I was loaded more than usual, and part of the road was a
steep uphill. I used all my strength, but I could not get on, and
was obliged continually to stop. This did not please my driver, and
he laid his whip on badly. "Get on, you lazy fellow," he said, "or
I'll make you."

Again I started the heavy load, and struggled on a few yards;
again the whip came down, and again I struggled forward. The pain
of that great cart whip was sharp, but my mind was hurt quite as
much as my poor sides. To be punished and abused when I was doing
my very best was so hard it took the heart out of me. A third time
he was flogging me cruelly, when a lady stepped quickly up to him,
and said in a sweet, earnest voice:

"Oh! pray do not whip your good horse any more; I am sure he is
doing all he can, and the road is very steep; I am sure he is doing
his best."

"If doing his best won't get this load up he must do something
more than his best; that's all I know, ma'am," said Jakes.

"But is it not a heavy load?" she said.

"Yes, yes, too heavy," he said; "but that's not my fault; the
foreman came just as we were starting, and would have three
hundredweight more put on to save him trouble, and I must get on
with it as well as I can."

He was raising the whip again, when the lady said:

"Pray, stop; I think I can help you if you will let me."

The man laughed.

"You see," she said, "you do not give him a fair chance; he
cannot use all his power with his head held back as it is with that
check-rein; if you would take it off I am sure he would do
better—do try it," she said persuasively, "I should be very glad if
you would."

"Well, well," said Jakes, with a short laugh, "anything to
please a lady, of course. How far would you wish it down,
ma'am?"

"Quite down, give him his head altogether."

The rein was taken off, and in a moment I put my head down to my
very knees. What a comfort it was! Then I tossed it up and down
several times to get the aching stiffness out of my neck.

"Poor fellow! that is what you wanted," said she, patting and
stroking me with her gentle hand; "and now if you will speak kindly
to him and lead him on I believe he will be able to do better."

Jakes took the rein. "Come on, Blackie." I put down my head, and
threw my whole weight against the collar; I spared no strength; the
load moved on, and I pulled it steadily up the hill, and then
stopped to take breath.

The lady had walked along the footpath, and now came across into
the road. She stroked and patted my neck, as I had not been patted
for many a long day.

"You see he was quite willing when you gave him the chance; I am
sure he is a fine-tempered creature, and I dare say has known
better days. You won't put that rein on again, will you?" for he
was just going to hitch it up on the old plan.

"Well, ma'am, I can't deny that having his head has helped him
up the hill, and I'll remember it another time, and thank you,
ma'am; but if he went without a check-rein I should be the
laughing-stock of all the carters; it is the fashion, you see."

"Is it not better," she said, "to lead a good fashion than to
follow a bad one? A great many gentlemen do not use check-reins
now; our carriage horses have not worn them for fifteen years, and
work with much less fatigue than those who have them; besides," she
added in a very serious voice, "we have no right to distress any of
God's creatures without a very good reason; we call them dumb
animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel,
but they do not suffer less because they have no words. But I must
not detain you now; I thank you for trying my plan with your good
horse, and I am sure you will find it far better than the whip.
Good-day," and with another soft pat on my neck she stepped lightly
across the path, and I saw her no more.

"That was a real lady, I'll be bound for it," said Jakes to
himself; "she spoke just as polite as if I was a gentleman, and
I'll try her plan, uphill, at any rate;" and I must do him the
justice to say that he let my rein out several holes, and going
uphill after that, he always gave me my head; but the heavy loads
went on. Good feed and fair rest will keep up one's strength under
full work, but no horse can stand against overloading; and I was
getting so thoroughly pulled down from this cause that a younger
horse was bought in my place. I may as well mention here what I
suffered at this time from another cause. I had heard horses speak
of it, but had never myself had experience of the evil; this was a
badly-lighted stable; there was only one very small window at the
end, and the consequence was that the stalls were almost dark.

Besides the depressing effect this had on my spirits, it very
much weakened my sight, and when I was suddenly brought out of the
darkness into the glare of daylight it was very painful to my eyes.
Several times I stumbled over the threshold, and could scarcely see
where I was going.

I believe, had I stayed there very long, I should have become
purblind, and that would have been a great misfortune, for I have
heard men say that a stone-blind horse was safer to drive than one
which had imperfect sight, as it generally makes them very timid.
However, I escaped without any permanent injury to my sight, and
was sold to a large cab owner.

My new master I shall never forget; he had black eyes and a
hooked nose, his mouth was as full of teeth as a bull-dog's, and
his voice was as harsh as the grinding of cart wheels over graveled
stones. His name was Nicholas Skinner, and I believe he was the man
that poor Seedy Sam drove for.

I have heard men say that seeing is believing; but I should say
that feeling is believing; for much as I had seen before, I never
knew till now the utter misery of a cab-horse's life.

Skinner had a low set of cabs and a low set of drivers; he was
hard on the men, and the men were hard on the horses. In this place
we had no Sunday rest, and it was in the heat of summer.

Sometimes on a Sunday morning a party of fast men would hire the
cab for the day; four of them inside and another with the driver,
and I had to take them ten or fifteen miles out into the country,
and back again; never would any of them get down to walk up a hill,
let it be ever so steep, or the day ever so hot—unless, indeed,
when the driver was afraid I should not manage it, and sometimes I
was so fevered and worn that I could hardly touch my food. How I
used to long for the nice bran mash with niter in it that Jerry
used to give us on Saturday nights in hot weather, that used to
cool us down and make us so comfortable. Then we had two nights and
a whole day for unbroken rest, and on Monday morning we were as
fresh as young horses again; but here there was no rest, and my
driver was just as hard as his master. He had a cruel whip with
something so sharp at the end that it sometimes drew blood, and he
would even whip me under the belly, and flip the lash out at my
head. Indignities like these took the heart out of me terribly, but
still I did my best and never hung back; for, as poor Ginger said,
it was no use; men are the strongest.

My life was now so utterly wretched that I wished I might, like
Ginger, drop down dead at my work and be out of my misery, and one
day my wish very nearly came to pass.

I went on the stand at eight in the morning, and had done a good
share of work, when we had to take a fare to the railway. A long
train was just expected in, so my driver pulled up at the back of
some of the outside cabs to take the chance of a return fare. It
was a very heavy train, and as all the cabs were soon engaged ours
was called for. There was a party of four; a noisy, blustering man
with a lady, a little boy and a young girl, and a great deal of
luggage. The lady and the boy got into the cab, and while the man
ordered about the luggage the young girl came and looked at me.

"Papa," she said, "I am sure this poor horse cannot take us and
all our luggage so far, he is so very weak and worn up. Do look at
him."

"Oh! he's all right, miss," said my driver, "he's strong
enough."

The porter, who was pulling about some heavy boxes, suggested to
the gentleman, as there was so much luggage, whether he would not
take a second cab.

"Can your horse do it, or can't he?" said the blustering
man.

"Oh! he can do it all right, sir; send up the boxes, porter; he
could take more than that;" and he helped to haul up a box so heavy
that I could feel the springs go down.

"Papa, papa, do take a second cab," said the young girl in a
beseeching tone. "I am sure we are wrong, I am sure it is very
cruel."

"Nonsense, Grace, get in at once, and don't make all this fuss;
a pretty thing it would be if a man of business had to examine
every cab-horse before he hired it—the man knows his own business
of course; there, get in and hold your tongue!"

My gentle friend had to obey, and box after box was dragged up
and lodged on the top of the cab or settled by the side of the
driver. At last all was ready, and with his usual jerk at the rein
and slash of the whip he drove out of the station.

The load was very heavy and I had had neither food nor rest
since morning; but I did my best, as I always had done, in spite of
cruelty and injustice.

I got along fairly till we came to Ludgate Hill; but there the
heavy load and my own exhaustion were too much. I was struggling to
keep on, goaded by constant chucks of the rein and use of the whip,
when in a single moment—I cannot tell how—my feet slipped from
under me, and I fell heavily to the ground on my side; the
suddenness and the force with which I fell seemed to beat all the
breath out of my body. I lay perfectly still; indeed, I had no
power to move, and I thought now I was going to die. I heard a sort
of confusion round me, loud, angry voices, and the getting down of
the luggage, but it was all like a dream. I thought I heard that
sweet, pitiful voice saying, "Oh! that poor horse! it is all our
fault." Some one came and loosened the throat strap of my bridle,
and undid the traces which kept the collar so tight upon me. Some
one said, "He's dead, he'll never get up again." Then I could hear
a policeman giving orders, but I did not even open my eyes; I could
only draw a gasping breath now and then. Some cold water was thrown
over my head, and some cordial was poured into my mouth, and
something was covered over me. I cannot tell how long I lay there,
but I found my life coming back, and a kind-voiced man was patting
me and encouraging me to rise. After some more cordial had been
given me, and after one or two attempts, I staggered to my feet,
and was gently led to some stables which were close by. Here I was
put into a well-littered stall, and some warm gruel was brought to
me, which I drank thankfully.

In the evening I was sufficiently recovered to be led back to
Skinner's stables, where I think they did the best for me they
could. In the morning Skinner came with a farrier to look at me. He
examined me very closely and said:

"This is a case of overwork more than disease, and if you could
give him a run off for six months he would be able to work again;
but now there is not an ounce of strength left in him."

"Then he must just go to the dogs," said Skinner. "I have no
meadows to nurse sick horses in—he might get well or he might not;
that sort of thing don't suit my business; my plan is to work 'em
as long as they'll go, and then sell 'em for what they'll fetch, at
the knacker's or elsewhere."

"If he was broken-winded," said the farrier, "you had better
have him killed out of hand, but he is not; there is a sale of
horses coming off in about ten days; if you rest him and feed him
up he may pick up, and you may get more than his skin is worth, at
any rate."

Upon this advice Skinner, rather unwillingly, I think, gave
orders that I should be well fed and cared for, and the stable man,
happily for me, carried out the orders with a much better will than
his master had in giving them. Ten days of perfect rest, plenty of
good oats, hay, bran mashes, with boiled linseed mixed in them, did
more to get up my condition than anything else could have done;
those linseed mashes were delicious, and I began to think, after
all, it might be better to live than go to the dogs. When the
twelfth day after the accident came, I was taken to the sale, a few
miles out of London. I felt that any change from my present place
must be an improvement, so I held up my head, and hoped for the
best.

At this sale, of course I found myself in company with the old
broken-down horses—some lame, some broken-winded, some old, and
some that I am sure it would have been merciful to shoot.

The buyers and sellers, too, many of them, looked not much
better off than the poor beasts they were bargaining about. There
were poor old men, trying to get a horse or a pony for a few
pounds, that might drag about some little wood or coal cart. There
were poor men trying to sell a worn-out beast for two or three
pounds, rather than have the greater loss of killing him. Some of
them looked as if poverty and hard times had hardened them all
over; but there were others that I would have willingly used the
last of my strength in serving; poor and shabby, but kind and
human, with voices that I could trust. There was one tottering old
man who took a great fancy to me, and I to him, but I was not
strong enough—it was an anxious time! Coming from the better part
of the fair, I noticed a man who looked like a gentleman farmer,
with a young boy by his side; he had a broad back and round
shoulders, a kind, ruddy face, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat.
When he came up to me and my companions he stood still and gave a
pitiful look round upon us. I saw his eye rest on me; I had still a
good mane and tail, which did something for my appearance. I
pricked my ears and looked at him.

"There's a horse, Willie, that has known better days."

"Poor old fellow!" said the boy, "do you think, grandpapa, he
was ever a carriage horse?"

"Oh, yes! my boy," said the farmer, coming closer, "he might
have been anything when he was young; look at his nostrils and his
ears, the shape of his neck and shoulder; there's a deal of
breeding about that horse." He put out his hand and gave me a kind
pat on the neck. I put out my nose in answer to his kindness; the
boy stroked my face.

"Poor old fellow! see, grandpapa, how well he understands
kindness. Could not you buy him and make him young again as you did
with Ladybird?"

"My dear boy, I can't make all old horses young; besides,
Ladybird was not so very old, as she was run down and badly
used."

"Well, grandpapa, I don't believe that this one is old; look at
his mane and tail. I wish you would look into his mouth, and then
you could tell; though he is so very thin, his eyes are not sunk
like some old horses'."

The old gentleman laughed. "Bless the boy! he is as horsey as
his old grandfather."

"But do look at his mouth, grandpapa, and ask the price; I am
sure he would grow young in our meadows."

The man who had brought me for sale now put in his word.

"The young gentleman's a real knowing one, sir. Now the fact is,
this 'ere hoss is just pulled down with overwork in the cabs; he's
not an old one, and I heerd as how the vetenary should say, that a
six months' run off would set him right up, being as how his wind
was not broken. I've had the tending of him these ten days past,
and a gratefuller, pleasanter animal I never met with, and 'twould
be worth a gentleman's while to give a five-pound note for him, and
let him have a chance. I'll be bound he'd be worth twenty pounds
next spring."

The old gentleman laughed, and the little boy looked up
eagerly.

"Oh, grandpapa, did you not say the colt sold for five pounds
more than you expected? You would not be poorer if you did buy this
one."

The farmer slowly felt my legs, which were much swelled and
strained; then he looked at my mouth. "Thirteen or fourteen, I
should say; just trot him out, will you?"

I arched my poor thin neck, raised my tail a little, and threw
out my legs as well as I could, for they were very stiff.

"What is the lowest you will take for him?" said the farmer as I
came back.

"Five pounds, sir; that was the lowest price my master set."

"'Tis a speculation," said the old gentleman, shaking his head,
but at the same time slowly drawing out his purse, "quite a
speculation! Have you any more business here?" he said, counting
the sovereigns into his hand.

"No, sir, I can take him for you to the inn, if you please."

"Do so, I am now going there."

They walked forward, and I was led behind. The boy could hardly
control his delight, and the old gentleman seemed to enjoy his
pleasure. I had a good feed at the inn, and was then gently ridden
home by a servant of my new master's, and turned into a large
meadow with a shed in one corner of it.

Mr. Thoroughgood, for that was the name of my benefactor, gave
orders that I should have hay and oats every night and morning, and
the run of the meadow during the day, and, "you, Willie," said he,
"must take the oversight of him; I give him in charge to you."

The boy was proud of his charge, and undertook it in all
seriousness. There was not a day when he did not pay me a visit;
sometimes picking me out from among the other horses, and giving me
a bit of carrot, or something good, or sometimes standing by me
while I ate my oats. He always came with kind words and caresses,
and of course I grew very fond of him. He called me Old Crony, as I
used to come to him in the field and follow him about. Sometimes he
brought his grandfather, who always looked closely at my legs.

"This is our point, Willie," he would say; "but he is improving
so steadily that I think we shall see a change for the better in
the spring."

The perfect rest, the good food, the soft turf, and gentle
exercise, soon began to tell on my condition and my spirits. I had
a good constitution from my mother, and I was never strained when I
was young, so that I had a better chance than many horses who have
been worked before they came to their full strength. During the
winter my legs improved so much that I began to feel quite young
again. The spring came round, and one day in March Mr. Thoroughgood
determined that he would try me in the phaeton. I was well pleased,
and he and Willie drove me a few miles. My legs were not stiff now,
and I did the work with perfect ease.

"He's growing young, Willie; we must give him a little gentle
work now, and by mid-summer he will be as good as Ladybird. He has
a beautiful mouth and good paces; they can't be better."

"Oh, grandpapa, how glad I am you bought him!"

"So am I, my boy; but he has to thank you more than me; we must
now be looking out for a quiet, genteel place for him, where he
will be valued."