Part 2.
Chapter 9.
Learning New Ways.
The next morning, Joe said goodbye to us, and merry legs neighed to us from the yard.
Then John put the saddle on Ginger and the leading rein on me and rode us about fifteen miles to Earl Shull Park.
We went into the yard through a stone gateway, and John asked for Mr. York.
Mr. York was a fine-looking middle-aged man, and his voice was the type horses knew they must obey.
He was very friendly, though, and polite to John.
After looking over Ginger and me, he called a groomer to take us to our stable.
He then invited John in for a cool drink.
We were taken to a light, airy stable and placed in adjoining stalls.
We were rubbed down and then fed.
In about half an hour, John and Mr. York, who was to be our new coachman, came in to see us.
The man spoke to John firmly.
I can see nothing wrong simply by looking at these two horses, but we both know that horses are all very singular and need different treatments.
Is there anything about these two you think you ought to tell me?
Well, said John, I don't believe there's a better pair of horses in the whole country.
The black one has never heard a harsh word or been hit in his life.
He will do just about anything you ask.
But the brown chestnut does get in a bad mood now and then.
If she were mistreated, she would probably act mean in return.
I will remember what you have said, the coachman replied.
"'Oh, there is one other thing,' John said before walking away.
"'We have never used the bearing rein with either of them.
The black horse never had one on, and it was the gag bit that gave the chestnut such a bad temper.'
"'Well,' said Mr. York, "'they will have to wear the bearing rein.
The mistress loves style, but I will only use it when my lady rides.'
As John patted us for the last time, his voice was very sad.
I held my face close to him.
That was all I could do to say goodbye, and then he was gone, and I have never seen him since.
The next day my new master, whom everyone called Lord, came over to look at us.
I have a good feeling about these horses, he said.
My old friend Mr. Gordon treated them well.
Of course, their colors don't match, but as long as we're in the country, that will do.
Mr. York told him what John had said about us.
Well, he said, you keep an eye on the mare.
We'll start her out easy on the bearing range.
In the afternoon, we were harnessed and hooked to the carriage.
Two footmen were standing ready in front of the house, dressed in very plain clothes.
Then I heard the sound of silk rustling as my lady came down the stone steps.
A tall woman got in the carriage without saying a word.
This was the first time I had ever worn a bearing rein.
I wasn't able to put my head down, but the rein didn't pull it up any higher than I was used to carrying it.
The next day, at three o'clock, we were again at the door, waiting for our lady.
We soon heard the silk dress and her mean voice.
Mr. York, you must put those horses' heads higher.
They look awful.
Mr York got down and said shyly Sorry, my lady, but my lord said to raise their heads a little at a time.
But if you say so, I can take them up a little more.
I do say so, she said.
Mr. York came around to our heads and shortened the rein himself.
My head went up higher, bothering me as soon as he did it.
I was able to stand it until we came to a steep hill.
I had to pull the carriage with my head up now and it hurt my back and legs.
Ginger said, we are treated well here.
However, if they make my head go up any higher, I will fight it.
Day by day, our bearing reins were tightened, making our heads go up a little bit on each ride.
I now dreaded putting my harness on.
Every day I thought the worst had to be over.
Little did I know the worst was yet to come.
One day my lady came down later than usual.
"'Drive me to my friends, the Duchess,' she said, "'and get those horses' heads up.
Raise them the whole way now.'
Mr. York drew my head back and fixed the reins so tightly I could hardly stand it.
Then he went to Ginger.
She was already raising her head up and down, fighting the man before he even started.'
When Mr. York took off the rein to shorten it, Ginger reared up on her hind legs.
Mr. York and the groomer flew to her head, but she went on rearing and kicking.
At last, she knocked over the carriage and fell down, kicking me harshly as she went down.
Mr. York sat on her head and yelled directions, trying to make the whole mess go away.
The groomer led me to my box.
Then he ran to help Mr. York.
I stood still, but my mood was miserable.
Before long, Ginger was brought into the stable by two groomers.
She looked like she had been hit quite hard.
The men were upset by what happened.
They said, if Our Lady hadn't insisted on those bearing reins being so tight, this never would have happened.
I'm sure Our Lord is going to be angry, but if he can't make his wife see what's right, we surely can't.
Mr. York felt me all over, looking for the place where I had been kicked.
He soon found it.
He ordered it to be sponged with hot water and then had lotion put on.
Our lord was upset and blamed Mr. York for listening to his mistress.
He said that from now on, all orders came only from him.
Ginger was never put in the carriage again, but when her bruises healed she was given to one of the lord's youngest sons.
He was sure she would make a good hunter.
As for me, I still had to pull the carriage.
I was teamed with another horse named Max.
He was used to a tight rein because he had worn one since he was young.
I asked him how he stood it.
Well, he said, I wear one only because I have to.
They are very bad for us.
Do you think our masters know that?
I asked.
I don't know, but the doctors do.
I heard them talking once.
They said the London people always want the heads of their horses held high.
It's bad for the horses, but good for fashion.
I can't even begin to describe how much it hurt to be in that bearing rain for those four long months.
The sharp bit on my tongue made my mouth foam.
The high tilt of my head made it hard for me to breathe, too.
After a carriage ride, my neck and chest were strained and painful.
I felt worn out and sad.
In my old home, I always knew that John and my master were my friends.
How I wished for a friend to look out for me.
