Black Beauty (5 page)

The longer I lived at Birtwick the more proud and happy I felt
at having such a place. Our master and mistress were respected and
beloved by all who knew them; they were good and kind to everybody
and everything; not only men and women, but horses and donkeys,
dogs and cats, cattle and birds; there was no oppressed or ill-used
creature that had not a friend in them, and their servants took the
same tone. If any of the village children were known to treat any
creature cruelly they soon heard about it from the Hall.

The squire and Farmer Grey had worked together, as they said,
for more than twenty years to get check-reins on the cart-horses
done away with, and in our parts you seldom saw them; and
sometimes, if mistress met a heavily laden horse with his head
strained up she would stop the carriage and get out, and reason
with the driver in her sweet serious voice, and try to show him how
foolish and cruel it was.

I don't think any man could withstand our mistress. I wish all
ladies were like her. Our master, too, used to come down very heavy
sometimes. I remember he was riding me toward home one morning when
we saw a powerful man driving toward us in a light pony chaise,
with a beautiful little bay pony, with slender legs and a high-bred
sensitive head and face. Just as he came to the park gates the
little thing turned toward them; the man, without word or warning,
wrenched the creature's head round with such a force and suddenness
that he nearly threw it on its haunches. Recovering itself it was
going on, when he began to lash it furiously. The pony plunged
forward, but the strong, heavy hand held the pretty creature back
with force almost enough to break its jaw, while the whip still cut
into him. It was a dreadful sight to me, for I knew what fearful
pain it gave that delicate little mouth; but master gave me the
word, and we were up with him in a second.

"Sawyer," he cried in a stern voice, "is that pony made of flesh
and blood?"

"Flesh and blood and temper," he said; "he's too fond of his own
will, and that won't suit me." He spoke as if he was in a strong
passion. He was a builder who had often been to the park on
business.

"And do you think," said master sternly, "that treatment like
this will make him fond of your will?"

"He had no business to make that turn; his road was straight
on!" said the man roughly.

"You have often driven that pony up to my place," said master;
"it only shows the creature's memory and intelligence; how did he
know that you were not going there again? But that has little to do
with it. I must say, Mr. Sawyer, that a more unmanly, brutal
treatment of a little pony it was never my painful lot to witness,
and by giving way to such passion you injure your own character as
much, nay more, than you injure your horse; and remember, we shall
all have to be judged according to our works, whether they be
toward man or toward beast."

Master rode me home slowly, and I could tell by his voice how
the thing had grieved him. He was just as free to speak to
gentlemen of his own rank as to those below him; for another day,
when we were out, we met a Captain Langley, a friend of our
master's; he was driving a splendid pair of grays in a kind of
break. After a little conversation the captain said:

"What do you think of my new team, Mr. Douglas? You know, you
are the judge of horses in these parts, and I should like your
opinion."

The master backed me a little, so as to get a good view of them.
"They are an uncommonly handsome pair," he said, "and if they are
as good as they look I am sure you need not wish for anything
better; but I see you still hold that pet scheme of yours for
worrying your horses and lessening their power."

"What do you mean," said the other, "the check-reins? Oh, ah! I
know that's a hobby of yours; well, the fact is, I like to see my
horses hold their heads up."

"So do I," said master, "as well as any man, but I don't like to
see them held up; that takes all the shine out of it. Now, you are
a military man, Langley, and no doubt like to see your regiment
look well on parade, 'heads up', and all that; but you would not
take much credit for your drill if all your men had their heads
tied to a backboard! It might not be much harm on parade, except to
worry and fatigue them; but how would it be in a bayonet charge
against the enemy, when they want the free use of every muscle, and
all their strength thrown forward? I would not give much for their
chance of victory. And it is just the same with horses: you fret
and worry their tempers, and decrease their power; you will not let
them throw their weight against their work, and so they have to do
too much with their joints and muscles, and of course it wears them
up faster. You may depend upon it, horses were intended to have
their heads free, as free as men's are; and if we could act a
little more according to common sense, and a good deal less
according to fashion, we should find many things work easier;
besides, you know as well as I that if a horse makes a false step,
he has much less chance of recovering himself if his head and neck
are fastened back. And now," said the master, laughing, "I have
given my hobby a good trot out, can't you make up your mind to
mount him, too, captain? Your example would go a long way."

"I believe you are right in theory," said the other, "and that's
rather a hard hit about the soldiers; but—well—I'll think about
it," and so they parted.

One day late in the autumn my master had a long journey to go on
business. I was put into the dog-cart, and John went with his
master. I always liked to go in the dog-cart, it was so light and
the high wheels ran along so pleasantly. There had been a great
deal of rain, and now the wind was very high and blew the dry
leaves across the road in a shower. We went along merrily till we
came to the toll-bar and the low wooden bridge. The river banks
were rather high, and the bridge, instead of rising, went across
just level, so that in the middle, if the river was full, the water
would be nearly up to the woodwork and planks; but as there were
good substantial rails on each side, people did not mind it.

The man at the gate said the river was rising fast, and he
feared it would be a bad night. Many of the meadows were under
water, and in one low part of the road the water was halfway up to
my knees; the bottom was good, and master drove gently, so it was
no matter.

When we got to the town of course I had a good bait, but as the
master's business engaged him a long time we did not start for home
till rather late in the afternoon. The wind was then much higher,
and I heard the master say to John that he had never been out in
such a storm; and so I thought, as we went along the skirts of a
wood, where the great branches were swaying about like twigs, and
the rushing sound was terrible.

"I wish we were well out of this wood," said my master.

"Yes, sir," said John, "it would be rather awkward if one of
these branches came down upon us."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there was a groan,
and a crack, and a splitting sound, and tearing, crashing down
among the other trees came an oak, torn up by the roots, and it
fell right across the road just before us. I will never say I was
not frightened, for I was. I stopped still, and I believe I
trembled; of course I did not turn round or run away; I was not
brought up to that. John jumped out and was in a moment at my
head.

"That was a very near touch," said my master. "What's to be done
now?"

"Well, sir, we can't drive over that tree, nor yet get round it;
there will be nothing for it, but to go back to the four crossways,
and that will be a good six miles before we get round to the wooden
bridge again; it will make us late, but the horse is fresh."

So back we went and round by the crossroads, but by the time we
got to the bridge it was very nearly dark; we could just see that
the water was over the middle of it; but as that happened sometimes
when the floods were out, master did not stop. We were going along
at a good pace, but the moment my feet touched the first part of
the bridge I felt sure there was something wrong. I dare not go
forward, and I made a dead stop. "Go on, Beauty," said my master,
and he gave me a touch with the whip, but I dare not stir; he gave
me a sharp cut; I jumped, but I dare not go forward.

"There's something wrong, sir," said John, and he sprang out of
the dog-cart and came to my head and looked all about. He tried to
lead me forward. "Come on, Beauty, what's the matter?" Of course I
could not tell him, but I knew very well that the bridge was not
safe.

Just then the man at the toll-gate on the other side ran out of
the house, tossing a torch about like one mad.

"Hoy, hoy, hoy! halloo! stop!" he cried.

"What's the matter?" shouted my master.

"The bridge is broken in the middle, and part of it is carried
away; if you come on you'll be into the river."

"Thank God!" said my master. "You Beauty!" said John, and took
the bridle and gently turned me round to the right-hand road by the
river side. The sun had set some time; the wind seemed to have
lulled off after that furious blast which tore up the tree. It grew
darker and darker, stiller and stiller. I trotted quietly along,
the wheels hardly making a sound on the soft road. For a good while
neither master nor John spoke, and then master began in a serious
voice. I could not understand much of what they said, but I found
they thought, if I had gone on as the master wanted me, most likely
the bridge would have given way under us, and horse, chaise,
master, and man would have fallen into the river; and as the
current was flowing very strongly, and there was no light and no
help at hand, it was more than likely we should all have been
drowned. Master said, God had given men reason, by which they could
find out things for themselves; but he had given animals knowledge
which did not depend on reason, and which was much more prompt and
perfect in its way, and by which they had often saved the lives of
men. John had many stories to tell of dogs and horses, and the
wonderful things they had done; he thought people did not value
their animals half enough nor make friends of them as they ought to
do. I am sure he makes friends of them if ever a man did.

At last we came to the park gates and found the gardener looking
out for us. He said that mistress had been in a dreadful way ever
since dark, fearing some accident had happened, and that she had
sent James off on Justice, the roan cob, toward the wooden bridge
to make inquiry after us.

We saw a light at the hall-door and at the upper windows, and as
we came up mistress ran out, saying, "Are you really safe, my dear?
Oh! I have been so anxious, fancying all sorts of things. Have you
had no accident?"

"No, my dear; but if your Black Beauty had not been wiser than
we were we should all have been carried down the river at the
wooden bridge." I heard no more, as they went into the house, and
John took me to the stable. Oh, what a good supper he gave me that
night, a good bran mash and some crushed beans with my oats, and
such a thick bed of straw! and I was glad of it, for I was
tired.

One day when John and I had been out on some business of our
master's, and were returning gently on a long, straight road, at
some distance we saw a boy trying to leap a pony over a gate; the
pony would not take the leap, and the boy cut him with the whip,
but he only turned off on one side. He whipped him again, but the
pony turned off on the other side. Then the boy got off and gave
him a hard thrashing, and knocked him about the head; then he got
up again and tried to make him leap the gate, kicking him all the
time shamefully, but still the pony refused. When we were nearly at
the spot the pony put down his head and threw up his heels, and
sent the boy neatly over into a broad quickset hedge, and with the
rein dangling from his head he set off home at a full gallop. John
laughed out quite loud. "Served him right," he said.

"Oh, oh, oh!" cried the boy as he struggled about among the
thorns; "I say, come and help me out."

"Thank ye," said John, "I think you are quite in the right
place, and maybe a little scratching will teach you not to leap a
pony over a gate that is too high for him," and so with that John
rode off. "It may be," said he to himself, "that young fellow is a
liar as well as a cruel one; we'll just go home by Farmer Bushby's,
Beauty, and then if anybody wants to know you and I can tell 'em,
ye see." So we turned off to the right, and soon came up to the
stack-yard, and within sight of the house. The farmer was hurrying
out into the road, and his wife was standing at the gate, looking
very frightened.

"Have you seen my boy?" said Mr. Bushby as we came up; "he went
out an hour ago on my black pony, and the creature is just come
back without a rider."

"I should think, sir," said John, "he had better be without a
rider, unless he can be ridden properly."

"What do you mean?" said the farmer.

"Well, sir, I saw your son whipping, and kicking, and knocking
that good little pony about shamefully because he would not leap a
gate that was too high for him. The pony behaved well, sir, and
showed no vice; but at last he just threw up his heels and tipped
the young gentleman into the thorn hedge. He wanted me to help him
out, but I hope you will excuse me, sir, I did not feel inclined to
do so. There's no bones broken, sir; he'll only get a few
scratches. I love horses, and it riles me to see them badly used;
it is a bad plan to aggravate an animal till he uses his heels; the
first time is not always the last."

During this time the mother began to cry, "Oh, my poor Bill, I
must go and meet him; he must be hurt."

"You had better go into the house, wife," said the farmer; "Bill
wants a lesson about this, and I must see that he gets it; this is
not the first time, nor the second, that he has ill-used that pony,
and I shall stop it. I am much obliged to you, Manly.
Good-evening."

So we went on, John chuckling all the way home; then he told
James about it, who laughed and said, "Serve him right. I knew that
boy at school; he took great airs on himself because he was a
farmer's son; he used to swagger about and bully the little boys.
Of course, we elder ones would not have any of that nonsense, and
let him know that in the school and the playground farmers' sons
and laborers' sons were all alike. I well remember one day, just
before afternoon school, I found him at the large window catching
flies and pulling off their wings. He did not see me and I gave him
a box on the ears that laid him sprawling on the floor. Well, angry
as I was, I was almost frightened, he roared and bellowed in such a
style. The boys rushed in from the playground, and the master ran
in from the road to see who was being murdered. Of course I said
fair and square at once what I had done, and why; then I showed the
master the flies, some crushed and some crawling about helpless,
and I showed him the wings on the window sill. I never saw him so
angry before; but as Bill was still howling and whining, like the
coward that he was, he did not give him any more punishment of that
kind, but set him up on a stool for the rest of the afternoon, and
said that he should not go out to play for that week. Then he
talked to all the boys very seriously about cruelty, and said how
hard-hearted and cowardly it was to hurt the weak and the helpless;
but what stuck in my mind was this, he said that cruelty was the
devil's own trade-mark, and if we saw any one who took pleasure in
cruelty we might know who he belonged to, for the devil was a
murderer from the beginning, and a tormentor to the end. On the
other hand, where we saw people who loved their neighbors, and were
kind to man and beast, we might know that was God's mark."

"Your master never taught you a truer thing," said John; "there
is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they
like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good
and kind to man and beast it is all a sham—all a sham, James, and
it won't stand when things come to be turned inside out."