Read Black Beauty Online

Authors: Anna Sewell

Tags: #novels, #Young Readers

Black Beauty (13 page)

BOOK: Black Beauty
6.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter
2
A
London Cab Horse

Jeremiah Barker was my new master's name, but as every one
called him Jerry, I shall do the same. Polly, his wife, was just as
good a match as a man could have. She was a plump, trim, tidy
little woman, with smooth, dark hair, dark eyes, and a merry little
mouth. The boy was twelve years old, a tall, frank, good-tempered
lad; and little Dorothy (Dolly they called her) was her mother over
again, at eight years old. They were all wonderfully fond of each
other; I never knew such a happy, merry family before or since.
Jerry had a cab of his own, and two horses, which he drove and
attended to himself. His other horse was a tall, white, rather
large-boned animal called "Captain". He was old now, but when he
was young he must have been splendid; he had still a proud way of
holding his head and arching his neck; in fact, he was a high-bred,
fine-mannered, noble old horse, every inch of him. He told me that
in his early youth he went to the Crimean War; he belonged to an
officer in the cavalry, and used to lead the regiment. I will tell
more of that hereafter.

The next morning, when I was well-groomed, Polly and Dolly came
into the yard to see me and make friends. Harry had been helping
his father since the early morning, and had stated his opinion that
I should turn out a "regular brick". Polly brought me a slice of
apple, and Dolly a piece of bread, and made as much of me as if I
had been the "Black Beauty" of olden time. It was a great treat to
be petted again and talked to in a gentle voice, and I let them see
as well as I could that I wished to be friendly. Polly thought I
was very handsome, and a great deal too good for a cab, if it was
not for the broken knees.

"Of course there's no one to tell us whose fault that was," said
Jerry, "and as long as I don't know I shall give him the benefit of
the doubt; for a firmer, neater stepper I never rode. We'll call
him 'Jack', after the old one—shall we, Polly?"

"Do," she said, "for I like to keep a good name going."

Captain went out in the cab all the morning. Harry came in after
school to feed me and give me water. In the afternoon I was put
into the cab. Jerry took as much pains to see if the collar and
bridle fitted comfortably as if he had been John Manly over again.
When the crupper was let out a hole or two it all fitted well.
There was no check-rein, no curb, nothing but a plain ring snaffle.
What a blessing that was!

After driving through the side street we came to the large cab
stand where Jerry had said "Good-night". On one side of this wide
street were high houses with wonderful shop fronts, and on the
other was an old church and churchyard, surrounded by iron
palisades. Alongside these iron rails a number of cabs were drawn
up, waiting for passengers; bits of hay were lying about on the
ground; some of the men were standing together talking; some were
sitting on their boxes reading the newspaper; and one or two were
feeding their horses with bits of hay, and giving them a drink of
water. We pulled up in the rank at the back of the last cab. Two or
three men came round and began to look at me and pass their
remarks.

"Very good for a funeral," said one.

"Too smart-looking," said another, shaking his head in a very
wise way; "you'll find out something wrong one of these fine
mornings, or my name isn't Jones."

"Well," said Jerry pleasantly, "I suppose I need not find it out
till it finds me out, eh? And if so, I'll keep up my spirits a
little longer."

Then there came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a great gray
coat with great gray cape and great white buttons, a gray hat, and
a blue comforter loosely tied round his neck; his hair was gray,
too; but he was a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men made way
for him. He looked me all over, as if he had been going to buy me;
and then straightening himself up with a grunt, he said, "He's the
right sort for you, Jerry; I don't care what you gave for him,
he'll be worth it." Thus my character was established on the
stand.

This man's name was Grant, but he was called "Gray Grant", or
"Governor Grant". He had been the longest on that stand of any of
the men, and he took it upon himself to settle matters and stop
disputes. He was generally a good-humored, sensible man; but if his
temper was a little out, as it was sometimes when he had drunk too
much, nobody liked to come too near his fist, for he could deal a
very heavy blow.

The first week of my life as a cab horse was very trying. I had
never been used to London, and the noise, the hurry, the crowds of
horses, carts, and carriages that I had to make my way through made
me feel anxious and harassed; but I soon found that I could
perfectly trust my driver, and then I made myself easy and got used
to it.

Jerry was as good a driver as I had ever known, and what was
better, he took as much thought for his horses as he did for
himself. He soon found out that I was willing to work and do my
best, and he never laid the whip on me unless it was gently drawing
the end of it over my back when I was to go on; but generally I
knew this quite well by the way in which he took up the reins, and
I believe his whip was more frequently stuck up by his side than in
his hand.

In a short time I and my master understood each other as well as
horse and man can do. In the stable, too, he did all that he could
for our comfort. The stalls were the old-fashioned style, too much
on the slope; but he had two movable bars fixed across the back of
our stalls, so that at night, and when we were resting, he just
took off our halters and put up the bars, and thus we could turn
about and stand whichever way we pleased, which is a great
comfort.

Jerry kept us very clean, and gave us as much change of food as
he could, and always plenty of it; and not only that, but he always
gave us plenty of clean fresh water, which he allowed to stand by
us both night and day, except of course when we came in warm. Some
people say that a horse ought not to drink all he likes; but I know
if we are allowed to drink when we want it we drink only a little
at a time, and it does us a great deal more good than swallowing
down half a bucketful at a time, because we have been left without
till we are thirsty and miserable. Some grooms will go home to
their beer and leave us for hours with our dry hay and oats and
nothing to moisten them; then of course we gulp down too much at
once, which helps to spoil our breathing and sometimes chills our
stomachs. But the best thing we had here was our Sundays for rest;
we worked so hard in the week that I do not think we could have
kept up to it but for that day; besides, we had then time to enjoy
each other's company. It was on these days that I learned my
companion's history.

Chapter
3
An
Old War Horse

Captain had been broken in and trained for an army horse; his
first owner was an officer of cavalry going out to the Crimean war.
He said he quite enjoyed the training with all the other horses,
trotting together, turning together, to the right hand or the left,
halting at the word of command, or dashing forward at full speed at
the sound of the trumpet or signal of the officer. He was, when
young, a dark, dappled iron-gray, and considered very handsome. His
master, a young, high-spirited gentleman, was very fond of him, and
treated him from the first with the greatest care and kindness. He
told me he thought the life of an army horse was very pleasant; but
when it came to being sent abroad over the sea in a great ship, he
almost changed his mind.

"That part of it," said he, "was dreadful! Of course we could
not walk off the land into the ship; so they were obliged to put
strong straps under our bodies, and then we were lifted off our
legs in spite of our struggles, and were swung through the air over
the water, to the deck of the great vessel. There we were placed in
small close stalls, and never for a long time saw the sky, or were
able to stretch our legs. The ship sometimes rolled about in high
winds, and we were knocked about, and felt bad enough.

"However, at last it came to an end, and we were hauled up, and
swung over again to the land; we were very glad, and snorted and
neighed for joy, when we once more felt firm ground under our
feet.

"We soon found that the country we had come to was very
different from our own and that we had many hardships to endure
besides the fighting; but many of the men were so fond of their
horses that they did everything they could to make them comfortable
in spite of snow, wet, and all things out of order."

"But what about the fighting?" said I, "was not that worse than
anything else?"

"Well," said he, "I hardly know; we always liked to hear the
trumpet sound, and to be called out, and were impatient to start
off, though sometimes we had to stand for hours, waiting for the
word of command; and when the word was given we used to spring
forward as gayly and eagerly as if there were no cannon balls,
bayonets, or bullets. I believe so long as we felt our rider firm
in the saddle, and his hand steady on the bridle, not one of us
gave way to fear, not even when the terrible bomb-shells whirled
through the air and burst into a thousand pieces.

"I, with my noble master, went into many actions together
without a wound; and though I saw horses shot down with bullets,
pierced through with lances, and gashed with fearful saber-cuts;
though we left them dead on the field, or dying in the agony of
their wounds, I don't think I feared for myself. My master's cheery
voice, as he encouraged his men, made me feel as if he and I could
not be killed. I had such perfect trust in him that while he was
guiding me I was ready to charge up to the very cannon's mouth. I
saw many brave men cut down, many fall mortally wounded from their
saddles. I had heard the cries and groans of the dying, I had
cantered over ground slippery with blood, and frequently had to
turn aside to avoid trampling on wounded man or horse, but, until
one dreadful day, I had never felt terror; that day I shall never
forget."

Here old Captain paused for awhile and drew a long breath; I
waited, and he went on.

"It was one autumn morning, and as usual, an hour before
daybreak our cavalry had turned out, ready caparisoned for the
day's work, whether it might be fighting or waiting. The men stood
by their horses waiting, ready for orders. As the light increased
there seemed to be some excitement among the officers; and before
the day was well begun we heard the firing of the enemy's guns.

"Then one of the officers rode up and gave the word for the men
to mount, and in a second every man was in his saddle, and every
horse stood expecting the touch of the rein, or the pressure of his
rider's heels, all animated, all eager; but still we had been
trained so well that, except by the champing of our bits, and the
restive tossing of our heads from time to time, it could not be
said that we stirred.

"My dear master and I were at the head of the line, and as all
sat motionless and watchful, he took a little stray lock of my mane
which had turned over on the wrong side, laid it over on the right,
and smoothed it down with his hand; then patting my neck, he said,
'We shall have a day of it to-day, Bayard, my beauty; but we'll do
our duty as we have done.' He stroked my neck that morning more, I
think, than he had ever done before; quietly on and on, as if he
were thinking of something else. I loved to feel his hand on my
neck, and arched my crest proudly and happily; but I stood very
still, for I knew all his moods, and when he liked me to be quiet,
and when gay.

"I cannot tell all that happened on that day, but I will tell of
the last charge that we made together; it was across a valley right
in front of the enemy's cannon. By this time we were well used to
the roar of heavy guns, the rattle of musket fire, and the flying
of shot near us; but never had I been under such a fire as we rode
through on that day. From the right, from the left, and from the
front, shot and shell poured in upon us. Many a brave man went
down, many a horse fell, flinging his rider to the earth; many a
horse without a rider ran wildly out of the ranks; then terrified
at being alone, with no hand to guide him, came pressing in among
his old companions, to gallop with them to the charge.

"Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one turned back. Every
moment the ranks were thinned, but as our comrades fell, we closed
in to keep them together; and instead of being shaken or staggered
in our pace our gallop became faster and faster as we neared the
cannon.

"My master, my dear master was cheering on his comrades with his
right arm raised on high, when one of the balls whizzing close to
my head struck him. I felt him stagger with the shock, though he
uttered no cry; I tried to check my speed, but the sword dropped
from his right hand, the rein fell loose from the left, and sinking
backward from the saddle he fell to the earth; the other riders
swept past us, and by the force of their charge I was driven from
the spot.

"I wanted to keep my place by his side and not leave him under
that rush of horses' feet, but it was in vain; and now without a
master or a friend I was alone on that great slaughter ground; then
fear took hold on me, and I trembled as I had never trembled
before; and I too, as I had seen other horses do, tried to join in
the ranks and gallop with them; but I was beaten off by the swords
of the soldiers. Just then a soldier whose horse had been killed
under him caught at my bridle and mounted me, and with this new
master I was again going forward; but our gallant company was
cruelly overpowered, and those who remained alive after the fierce
fight for the guns came galloping back over the same ground. Some
of the horses had been so badly wounded that they could scarcely
move from the loss of blood; other noble creatures were trying on
three legs to drag themselves along, and others were struggling to
rise on their fore feet, when their hind legs had been shattered by
shot. After the battle the wounded men were brought in and the dead
were buried."

"And what about the wounded horses?" I said; "were they left to
die?"

"No, the army farriers went over the field with their pistols
and shot all that were ruined; some that had only slight wounds
were brought back and attended to, but the greater part of the
noble, willing creatures that went out that morning never came
back! In our stables there was only about one in four that
returned.

"I never saw my dear master again. I believe he fell dead from
the saddle. I never loved any other master so well. I went into
many other engagements, but was only once wounded, and then not
seriously; and when the war was over I came back again to England,
as sound and strong as when I went out."

I said, "I have heard people talk about war as if it was a very
fine thing."

"Ah!" said he, "I should think they never saw it. No doubt it is
very fine when there is no enemy, when it is just exercise and
parade and sham fight. Yes, it is very fine then; but when
thousands of good brave men and horses are killed or crippled for
life, it has a very different look."

"Do you know what they fought about?" said I.

"No," he said, "that is more than a horse can understand, but
the enemy must have been awfully wicked people, if it was right to
go all that way over the sea on purpose to kill them."

BOOK: Black Beauty
6.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Thunder Canyon Homecoming by Brenda Harlen
Wandering Off the Path by Willa Edwards
His Secret by Ann King
Dancing in the Dark by Susan Moody
Primary Storm by Brendan DuBois
The Calling by Inger Ash Wolfe
Gypsy Jewel by McAllister, Patricia