BLACK BEAUTY’S BREAKING IN
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.
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.