Section 27
Chapter 27 — Ruined and Going Downhill explained simply
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell
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As soon as my knees were sufficiently healed I was turned into a small meadow for a month or two; no other creature was there; and though I enjoyed the liberty and the sweet grass, yet I had been so long used to society that I felt very lonely. Ginger and I had become fast friend...
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As soon as my knees were sufficiently healed I was turned into a small
meadow for a month or two; no other creature was there; and though I
enjoyed the liberty and the sweet grass, yet I had been so long used to
society that I felt very lonely. Ginger and I had become fast friends,
and now I missed her company extremely. I often neighed when I heard
horses' feet passing in the road, but I seldom got an answer; till one
morning the gate was opened, and who should come in but dear old Ginger.
The man slipped off her halter, and left her there. With a joyful whinny
I trotted up to her; we were both glad to meet, but I soon found that it
was not for our pleasure that she was brought to be with me. Her story
would be too long to tell, but the end of it was that she had been
ruined by hard riding, and was now turned off to see what rest would do.
Lord George was young and would take no warning; he was a hard rider,
and would hunt whenever he could get the chance, quite careless of his
horse. Soon after I left the stable there was a steeplechase, and he
determined to ride. Though the groom told him she was a little strained,
and was not fit for the race, he did not believe it, and on the day of
the race urged Ginger to keep up with the foremost riders. With her high
spirit, she strained herself to the utmost; she came in with the first
three horses, but her wind was touched, besides which he was too heavy
for her, and her back was strained. “And so,” she said, “here we are,
ruined in the prime of our youth and strength, you by a drunkard, and I
by a fool; it is very hard.” We both felt in ourselves that we were not
what we had been. However, that did not spoil the pleasure we had in
each other's company; we did not gallop about as we once did, but we
used to feed, and lie down together, and stand for hours under one
of the shady lime-trees with our heads close to each other; and so we
passed our time till the family returned from town.
One day we saw the earl come into the meadow, and York was with him.
Seeing who it was, we stood still under our lime-tree, and let them come
up to us. They examined us carefully. The earl seemed much annoyed.
“There is three hundred pounds flung away for no earthly use,” said he;
“but what I care most for is that these horses of my old friend, who
thought they would find a good home with me, are ruined. The mare shall
have a twelve-month's run, and we shall see what that will do for her;
but the black one, he must be sold; 'tis a great pity, but I could not
have knees like these in my stables.”
“No, my lord, of course not,” said York; “but he might get a place where
appearance is not of much consequence, and still be well treated. I know
a man in Bath, the master of some livery stables, who often wants a
good horse at a low figure; I know he looks well after his horses.
The inquest cleared the horse's character, and your lordship's
recommendation, or mine, would be sufficient warrant for him.”
“You had better write to him, York. I should be more particular about
the place than the money he would fetch.”
After this they left us.
“They'll soon take you away,” said Ginger, “and I shall lose the only
friend I have, and most likely we shall never see each other again. 'Tis
a hard world!”
About a week after this Robert came into the field with a halter, which
he slipped over my head, and led me away. There was no leave-taking
of Ginger; we neighed to each other as I was led off, and she trotted
anxiously along by the hedge, calling to me as long as she could hear
the sound of my feet.
Through the recommendation of York, I was bought by the master of the
livery stables. I had to go by train, which was new to me, and required
a good deal of courage the first time; but as I found the puffing,
rushing, whistling, and, more than all, the trembling of the horse-box
in which I stood did me no real harm, I soon took it quietly.
When I reached the end of my journey I found myself in a tolerably
comfortable stable, and well attended to. These stables were not so
airy and pleasant as those I had been used to. The stalls were laid on
a slope instead of being level, and as my head was kept tied to the
manger, I was obliged always to stand on the slope, which was very
fatiguing. Men do not seem to know yet that horses can do more work if
they can stand comfortably and can turn about; however, I was well fed
and well cleaned, and, on the whole, I think our master took as much
care of us as he could. He kept a good many horses and carriages of
different kinds for hire. Sometimes his own men drove them; at
others, the horse and chaise were let to gentlemen or ladies who drove
themselves.
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What happens here
Chapter 27 — Ruined and Going Downhill continues Black Beauty, moving the reader through kindness to animals, work, cruelty, empathy, and moral responsibility.
Why this scene matters
This section matters because it carries one part of Black Beauty's larger pattern: kindness to animals, work, cruelty, empathy, and moral responsibility. Reading it with the situation clear makes the original prose easier to follow.
Characters in this scene
- Main characters: The people whose choices carry this part of Black Beauty.
- Family or social world: The surrounding relationships, rules, class pressures, or expectations shaping the scene.
- Narrative pressure: The conflict, secret, desire, or consequence that keeps the chapter moving.