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
until I was four years old; he said lads ought not to work like men,
and colts ought not to work like horses, until they were grown up.
[Illustration: THOROUGHBREDS]
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 shall 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 his rider
wishes, and to go quietly. Besides this, he has to learn to wear a
collar, a crupper, and a breeching, and to stand still whilst they are
put on; then to have a cart or a wagon fixed behind him, 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 the halter and the 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
great 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 one’s mouth, and held fast
there by straps over one’s head, under one’s throat, round one’s nose,
and under one’s chin, so that no way in the world can one 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, whilst the old workman 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, until 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. My master
went with me to the smith’s forge to see that I was not hurt. The
blacksmith took my feet in his hand, one after the other, and cut away
some of the hoof. It did not pain me, and so I stood still on three
legs until 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 became used to it.
And now, having come 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 an ugly, 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 became 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 amongst them. I shall never forget the first train that ran
by. I was feeding quietly near the fence 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
other 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
whistle 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, dreadful thing came puffing and groaning 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 that 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;
but 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 do not 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.”--ANNA SEWELL.
_From “Black Beauty,” by permission of Jarrold & Sons._