Black Beauty

black as a nigger.’
    ‘I think it is a very good
name. If anyone says it, we could take them to a race relations board.’
    When John went into the
stable, he told James that master and mistress had chosen a good sensible
English name for me: Nigger, because I was black. They both laughed, and James
said, ‘If it was not for bringing back the past, I should have named him Big
Dick Rasputin, for I never saw two horses more alike.’
    ‘That’s no wonder,’ said
John, ‘didn’t you know that farmer Grey’s old Duchess was the mother of them
both?’!
    I had never heard that
before. So poor Big Dick Rasputin, who was killed at that hunt, was my brother!
    John seemed very proud of
me: he used to make my mane and tail almost as smooth as a baby’s bum, and he
would talk to me a great deal, ‘Keep still you bastard.’ I grew very fond of
him, he was so gentle and kind, ‘Keep still you bastard’; he wanted me to keep
still.
    James Howard, the stable
boy, was just as gentle and pleasant in his way — ‘Keep still you bastard’ — so
I thought myself well-off, but sometimes I would trample him into the ground.
There was another man who helped in the yard sweeping up the horse dung. I
didn’t like him, so I did as much of it as I could.
    A few days after this, I
had to go out with Ginger in the carriage. I wondered how we should get on
together; but except for laying his ears back and biting the driver, he behaved
very well. He did his work honestly, and did his full share, usually in the
middle of the road — a street cleaner used to clear it and sell it to rose
growers — and I never wish to have a better partner in double harness. When we
came to a hill, instead of slackening his pace, he would throw his weight right
into the collar, the silly little fool, and pull away. So I let him — I just
sat next to the driver. John had oftener to hold him in than to urge him
forward; he never had to use the whip with either of us.
    As for Merrylegs, he and I
soon became great friends: we went out drinking together at the City Hall
trough; he used to let me ride him. He was a favourite with everyone, except
King Edward, and especially with Miss Jessie and Miss Flora, who used to ride
him about in the orchard. He used to run under low branches so they would get
knocked off; they had fine games with him and their little dog Frisky. He used
to trample it into the mud and fracture its skull.
    Our master had two other
horses that stood in another stable, one on top of the other. One was Justice,
a roan cob, used for riding, or for the luggage cart; the other was a very old
brown hunter, named Sir Oliver, who was past it now, but was a great favourite
with the master, who helped him stagger through the Park. He sometimes did a
little light carting on the estate, butt regularly collapsed, for he was very
weak. He could be trusted with a child as long as it wasn’t older than three,
otherwise his legs collapsed under him; as it was, he had a pacemaker. The cob
was a strong, well-made, good-tempered horse, and we sometimes had a little
chat inthe paddock.
    ‘How are you?’ I asked.
    ‘I’m very well,’ he
answered, ‘piss off, Nigger.’

LIBERTY
    John took me out to exercise
    He gripped me fast with his thighs
    But I gave a huge cough
    That threw him off
    It gave him a shock
    As he split his head open on a rock
    But after three weeks in hospital ’tis true
    He came back, as good as new.
     
    I was quite happy in my new
place, and all who had to do with me were good and bloody boring, forever
patting me and giving me apples, and I had a light airy stable and the best of
food. What more could I want? Why, liberty! For three years and a half of my
life I had had all the liberty I could wish for; but now, week after week,
month after month and, no doubt, year after year, I must stand up in a stable
night and day except when I am wanted; sometimes I lay down which is like
standing, only lower down; and then I must be just as steady and quiet as any
old horse w ho has worked twenty years and been shot for dog food.
Straps here and straps there and a thing under my arse so I couldn’t shit, a
bit in my mouth, and blinkers over my eyes.
    Now, I am not complaining
for I know it must be so I only mean to say that for a young horse full of
strength and spirits who has been used to some large field or plain, where he
can fling up his head, and toss up his tail, crap and gallop away at full speed
leaving the field full of