North-country fairs—An untrained foxhunter—Tempted again—Extraordinary memory of the horse—Satisfactory results from a Latch-key.

In former chapters I have spoken of coachmen and guards, both in the heyday and afternoon of their career—then, once qualified for this line of life, seldom exhibiting an inclination to change. But let me now descend to the coach horse. In the good old coaching days, so great was the demand, that breeders were found who devoted themselves to a class of animal calculated for coach work and little else. There was an understood price, and buyers for the contractors attended the North-country fairs and made their selection—twenty, fifty, or eighty horses, as required—the individual price never being referred to during the deal, so long as the average was not exceeded.

Seasoned horses were more valuable to proprietors than green uneducated colts from the fair; consequently, many opportunities were afforded for “chops” equally advantageous to both parties. An old hunter (old, not so much with reference to his years, as because he had been thus employed) made an admirable teamster. Horses with a blemish, or perhaps from some caprice of their owners, were often drafted while in their zenith, and those who were fortunate enough to pick them up, purchased with them some months (if not years) of good keep and condition, which could not be too highly appreciated. Condition means time; and nothing but time can effectually produce it. The power of a horse may be doubled by the condition of his frame, as it may be reduced by mismanagement and low keep to half its natural strength.

A large breeder in the North of England, a fine specimen of the old English yeoman, whom I visited some years ago, remarked to me:

“I send all my colts, at two years old, to plough. They may play with it or they may work, just as they please. They are only out from eleven to three. It makes them temperate, accustoms them to be handled, and develops their muscles. I have bred some high-priced ones, and all have been served the same.

“In fifty-five examples of this treatment I have never known a single instance of harm arising from it. This horse which I am now riding” (and he called my attention to a very clever-looking black-brown gelding, about fifteen hands three inches) “has worked on-and-off on this farm for twenty-three years. I have been tempted to sell him four different times, but he has always come back to me. We nearly lost each other the last time, but, by a strange accident, I recovered him.

”I was on the coach, going to Doncaster, and when we changed horses at —— I noticed that one of them began pawing and neighing, appearing much excited. The horsekeeper reproved him, and led him into his place at the wheel. Having taken my seat on the box with the coachman, I observed that the animal was troubled by the fretfulness of his near-side wheeler. He jumped, backed, and shied to such a degree as to induce me to remark to the coachman that he had a fresh one there.

“‘No, not fresh,’ was the reply. ‘I’ve had him here these ten months, and a better I never drove. He never played this game before.’

“‘Where does he come from?’ I asked.

“‘I heard the governor say from Cornwall, but he bought him at Bristol,’ said the man.

“Up to this moment every action, every movement, had so entirely reminded me of my friend Latch-key, that I could almost have sworn to his identity. But how he could have come out of Cornwall to be sold at Bristol puzzled me.

“On arriving at the end of the stage, however, my suspicions were confirmed. This was my old friend and favourite, Latch-key, and although we had been separated for more than two years, he remembered me better than I did him, and seemed anxious to renew all the pettings and caresses which used to pass between us.”

Not to weary my reader with a history of the whole life of this horse, there is still something so remarkable in the fact of a man having bred a horse, and then purchased him four different times, that I may be forgiven for giving a slight sketch of his antecedents—as far as they could be traced by my host.

“Foaled in 1828. The dam, being blind, lost her way, fell into a ditch, and was fatally injured. The foal was reared by hand, chiefly upon ass’s milk. Being a privileged member of the farmyard group, he became the constant companion of his foster-brother, the foal of the mare donkey which had supplied all his wants. These two grazed in the orchard, frolicked in the park, and were always to be found near the house together. The young ass was an adept at opening gates, and the colt had acquired a knowledge of the art to such perfection that no fastening short of a chain and padlock could keep him in. Thence he acquired the sobriquet of Latch-key.

”At the age of two years he went to plough with other colts of his own age. The monotony of this work did not suit him, and hearing the hounds one day running at a short distance from his work, he was seized with a sudden determination to follow them, and after a severe and protracted kicking-match, having knocked two partners out of time, made his escape. Away he went, with part of his chains and a spreading-bar still hanging to him. These encumbrances caused him some awkward falls to begin with, which only served to increase the amusement he afforded to the field, as he quickly righted himself and resumed his place in the front rank.

“The country was stiff and the field getting select when Latch-key joined the cry. The hounds had got a good straight-necked fox before them, and there was a rattling scent—one of those days when the only way to live with them was by galloping from parish to parish, and then only to find they were two fields before you. But I am digressing, and it is quite necessary to go straight in such an affair as I am describing. Taking every fence as it came, in company with the foremost riders, Latch-key held his own, and it was not till, at the end of forty-five minutes, the gallant fox saved his brush by getting into a rabbit-hole, that, with heaving flanks, distended nostrils, and dripping with perspiration, he received the commendations of the field as they came up on the line.

”‘Bravo, young ’un! I should like to have you at five years old.’

“‘Where does he come from?’ etc. etc.

“The fox had brought them over a distance of nine miles as the crow flies, and few witnessed the finish.

”‘Catch that cart-colt, and take him down to the farmhouse. They may know him, my lad. And here is a pot of beer for you.’

“All good fox-hunters are Good Samaritans, and in this case the life of what proved afterwards to be a most valuable animal was saved by the charitable attention of the gentlemen in scarlet. It was found, when the yokel went up to him to lead him away, that he was standing in a pool of blood, having staked himself severely in the chest. If the wound had not been plugged and promptly attended to, the colt’s first day’s hunting would have been his last.

”Latch-key remained in the quarters he had accidentally dropped into until he was well enough to travel, when he returned to his native home. In addition to a very severe stake, he was otherwise much scarred by the broken plough-harness, and consequently required careful nursing to restore him to health and soundness.

“During the next two years he was kept apart from other young stock, and was constantly fed and petted by the farmer and his family. At the beginning of the fifth year, when he had been broken and was in his best looks, a dealer from London came down and bought him for a handsome sum.

”When he had been sufficiently prepared for a London show he was sold to a gentleman in Berkshire, who hunted him four seasons, and then, finding he did not like harness, sold him for a reduced price at Tattersall’s, and he fell into the hands of a coper, who, finding he would not harness, chopped him away to a salesman. The latter sent him, with several others, to Hull, to be shipped for St. Petersburg. He was on the point of being embarked, when my son, who happened to be at Hull at the time, recognised and, well knowing his intrinsic value, bought him for double the contract price. This was in 1838. He had not been at home a week when he was sold to a cavalry officer, who found him a first-class hunter, and did not regret having given me two hundred guineas for him.

“He changed hands several times in the regiment, at various prices, and was finally sold to a young squire, whose effects came to the hammer under the superintendence of the sheriff, at York. At this sale I purchased Latch-key for thirty-seven guineas, and took him for my own riding.

”Although much attached to the horse, a very good offer tempted me once more to part with him, in order to effect the sale of several others which had been selected, provided he were thrown in.

“This time he went to London again, and was broken to harness, and sold to a noble lord, who took him to Edinburgh. Here he met with an accident through collision with a tradesman’s cart, which disfigured and lamed him for a considerable time. Whilst under treatment of a veterinary surgeon, an intimate friend of mine, and belonging to my neighbourhood, finding the horse would be sold for ‘a song,’ purchased him for me, and sent him home, where he soon recovered, and resumed his place as my hack. This was in the year 1845.

”I continued to ride him for several years, until on one eventful day I was induced once more to throw him in with a string I was selling to a London dealer; and from that time we never set eyes on each other till our mutual recognition in the coach at ——.

“This is another instance of the extraordinary memory possessed by horses, and a convincing proof that they are as prone to remember kindness and good treatment as they do punishment and discomfort.

”After this, I lost no time in purchasing my old friend from the proprietors of the coach, which I did for the reasonable sum of thirty-five guineas. When grazing in the meadows near the highroad, he listens for the horn, and always trots cheerfully down to the gate to see the coach pass.

“I subjoin a statistical account of the career of Latch-key, showing the difference between buying and selling.

“So that this horse returned to me, in his sales and purchases in the course of twenty-two years, a net sum of two hundred and ninety-three pounds! We make no mystery as to his age, since money would no longer buy him; but during his career as a marketable animal, Latch-key chanced to be never more than ‘eight years old!’ He is now twenty-seven, and a cleverer animal could not be found.”

As my host finished his account of the career of his now old favourite, Latch-key confirmed it with a whinny, accompanied, however, by a significant shake of his head, which might have implied: “I wouldn’t trust you, even now, if a good offer came in your way!”