Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell

Girls like horses. This is one of the indisputable facts I learned in the Lower School playground – that, and never run headlong into a locked door – because horses just seem to somehow appeal to the imagination of girls, (alongside princesses and fairies) while boys were always more into football. In this respect, perhaps the girls seemed more understandable than the boys – I could never understand the male obsession with kicking a ball around a muddy field, and worshipping people like Michael Owen, whereas I myself liked horses. They were impressive beasts that people could mount and ride, yet they were benign and soft-hearted as rabbits. But why were the girls always obsessed with this one animal in particular? Why did they never show the same fervour towards cats, dogs, owls or ducks, or even goats? And why was it only girls who seemed obsessed with these creatures, when surely the horse has a longer history as an icon of male fantasy? After all, through most of history the horse has been damn near inseparable to the fate of humans, most often used in that favourite male-dominated pastime: senseless violence! Chariots, mounted knights, the wild west – heck, human history would have been completely different had our entire species not gone about domesticating these creatures; the Huns and Mongols would have gone a lot slower and been less terrifying had they not been mounted. Yet in the modern world their uses have declined drastically, machines now filling every available purpose we once relied on for horses, and now in the west they’re mostly kept around as a novelty for the middle and upper-classes, for racing and leisure.

          Black Beauty is a novel about horses, not specifically for children, and was written during the last period in history when horses were still an ever-present fact of life for people – the Victorians. For readers who expect a happy little story about a pony frolicking in the field, you will be disappointed; this is a book about animal cruelty, plain and simple. Set from the perspective of a horse, named Black Beauty, this is the memoir of a horse who has had an unsettled life. Born on a country estate, under the ownership of the kind Squire Gordon, Black Beauty relates how he was raised and trained with kindness and understanding, letting him develop into a fine-tempered and obedient animal. Alas his happy early life is cut short when Squire Gordon and his wife have to move away, selling Black Beauty and the other horses in the stable. For the rest of the book he passes from one owner to another, subjected to mistreatment and overwork of many different kinds. 

While not an especially thrilling narrative, Sewell does succeed in adequately describing all the nasty contraptions that were used on horses during her day, such as the bearing reign and gag-bit, which were both specifically designed to force a horse’s head into an uncomfortable position for the sake of appearances. More importantly, we hear of how Black Beauty himself feels about them. The author clearly does not like these awful devices, or the reasons used for them, and by giving the horse a voice with which to complain she creates a persuasive argument against their use.

In terms of characters, none are especially well developed, considering that they exist solely to get the author’s points across. There are three general types of character, aside from the protagonist: horses, kind people, and unkind people. The horses, such as Ginger, Sir Oliver, and Captain, are mostly there to supply anecdotes of their own experiences of mistreatment – Ginger telling of her unhappy early years which resulted in her hostile temperament, Sir Oliver demonstrating the effects of mutilation as a fashion, and Captain to tell the story of war-horses. The unkind characters, such as Nicholas Skinner who overworks his horses, and the wife of the Earl of W-* who forces Black Beauty to wear the bearing reign, represent all the sorts of people who make life difficult for horses, who for greed and/or fashion, or simply laziness, turn a blind eye to the suffering of their animals. The kind characters, amongst whom can be found Squire Gordon, John Manly, and Jerry Barker, are there as opponents to the unkind characters who, through kind and Christian practices, treating their animals with respect and attention, not using pointless and cruel methods such as gag-bits and flogging, always get the best out of the horses, and consequently are a lot happier themselves.

This is essentially a book about what it is like to be a slave. The entire plot is driven by Black Beauty’s powerlessness over his own destiny, as through various external reasons his owners always end up selling him to someone else. As a young and privileged horse he is generally well treated, but as he grows older, worn out and scarred, his position deteriorates, and he slides down on the social scale. Being unable to speak, he cannot control how he is treated, and it is up to the temperament and position of his human superiors as to what sort of treatment he receives. It is lovely when he has a kind master, but equally it is distressing when he is subjected to an unkind or ignorant one, and without any sort of power he is doomed to suffer until events correct themselves of their own accord, or he is passed on to another owner. Although Sewell is most fervently outspoken against unnecessary and cruel practices, there is also an undercurrent of the desperate plight of all horses and creatures – for Black Beauty, freedom is never an option, and there is no way for him to resist the cruel hand of humans. All he can ever hope for is a kind master, and when he ends up in worst position yet, that of near-crippling overwork, the only option is to knuckle-under until he drops. Anna Sewell then could perhaps be seen as a proponent of animal rights, by giving an animal a voice and a human personality, in an effort to highlight what it must be like to be a working-horse in a human ruled world.

It’s not the most gripping story plot-wise – considering it is a horse’s autobiography, in which things just happen – and over half of it seems to be solely anecdotes; but it never really gets bogged down by this. It’s a short little novel, and moves at a cracking pace, never dwelling on anything too long, but always hammering in the same collection of related points. All in all, I liked the novel. It’s not too preachy, but more than sufficiently highlights the awful reality of 19^th century animal mistreatment, and how animals can still face awful treatment today. I can’t help but feel that Sewell must have been a fan of the ‘Balaam’s donkey’ story in the Bible, in which a mistreated donkey is given the power to speak (Numbers 22: 21-35) – this whole novel is essentially that, but much longer, and more contemporary for Victorian Britain. And unlike most books, this one has actually done some good in the world, reaching a lot of people and raising awareness of animal abuse since 1877.

* Certain characters, such as Lord W-, seem to have their names censored, for some reason. I don’t know why, or whether it was author’s choice or not. I find it annoying.

Bibliology

Sewell, Anna. Black Beauty. Penguin: St. Ives. (2008 [First Published 1877])