Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,
Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Old Captain and His Successor Captain and I were great friends.
He was a noble old fellow and he was very good company.
I never thought he would have to leave his home and go down the hill but his turn came and this was how it happened.
I was not there but I heard all about it.
He and Gerry had taken a party to the Great Railway Station over London Bridge and were coming back somewhere between the bridge and the monument when Gerry saw a brewer's empty dray coming along drawn by two powerful horses.
The drayman was lashing his horses with his heavy whip.
The dray was light and they started off at a furious rate.
The man had no control over them and the street was full of traffic.
One young girl was knocked down and run over and the next moment they dashed up against our cab.
Both the wheels were torn off and the cab was thrown over.
Captain was dragged down.
The shaft splintered and one of them ran into his side.
Gerry too was thrown but he was only bruised.
Nobody could tell how much he escaped.
He always said it was a miracle.
When poor Captain got up he was found to be very much cut and knocked about.
Gerry led him home gently and a sad sight it was to see.
The drayman was proved to be very drunk and he was fined and the brewer had to pay damages to our master but there was no one to pay damages to poor Captain.
The farrier and Gerry did the best they could to ease his pain and make him comfortable.
The fly had to be mended and for several days I did not go out and Gerry earned nothing.
The first time we went back to the stand after the incident the governor came up to hear how Captain was.
He'll never get over it,
Said Gerry,
At least not for my work,
So the farrier said this morning.
He says he may do for carting and that sort of work.
It's put me out very much,
Governor.
Carting indeed.
I seen what horses come to at that work round London.
I only wish all the drunkards could be put in a lunatic asylum instead of being allowed to run foul of sober people.
If they'd break their own bones and smash their own carts and lame their own horses that'll be their own affair and we might let them alone.
But it seems to me the innocent always suffer.
And then they talk about compensation.
You can't make compensation.
There's all the trouble,
The vexation,
The loss of time,
Besides losing a good horse that's like an old friend.
The talk of compensation is a load of old nonsense.
If there's one devil I should like to see in the bottomless pit more than another,
It's the drink devil.
I say,
Gerry,
Said the Governor,
You're treading pretty well hard on my toes,
You know.
I'm not so good as you are.
More shame to me,
I wish I was.
Well,
Said Gerry,
Why don't you cut with it then?
You're too good a man to be the slave of such a thing.
I'm a great fool,
Gerry,
But I tried once for a couple of days and I thought I should have died.
How did you do?
I had hard work at it for several weeks.
I never did get drunk,
But I found I was not my own master.
And when that craving came on,
It was hard work to say no.
I saw one of us must knock under,
The drink devil or Gerry Barker,
And I said it would not be me.
It was a struggle though,
And I wanted all the help I could get.
But till I tried to break the habit,
I didn't know how strong I was.
But then Polly took such pains that I should have good food.
So that when the craving came on,
I used to get a cup of coffee or peppermint or something and read a bit in my book,
And that was a help.
And sometimes I had to say over and over,
Give up the drink or lose your soul.
Give up the drink or break Polly's heart.
Thanks be to God and my dear wife,
My chains were broken.
Now for ten years I've not tasted a drop and I never wish for it.
I've got great mind to try it myself,
Said Grant.
It's a poor thing not to be one's own master.
Do,
Governor,
Do,
Said Gerry.
You'll never repent it.
What help it will be to some of the poor fellows in our rank if they saw you do without it.
There's two or three of them would like to keep out of that tavern if they should.
At first Captain seemed to do pretty well.
But he was a very old horse,
And it was only his wonderful constitution and Gerry's care that had kept him up at the cab work for so long.
Now he broke down very much.
The farrier said he might mend up enough to sell for a few pounds,
But Gerry said no.
A few pounds got by selling a good servant into hard work and misery would canker all the rest of his money.
He thought the kindest thing he could do for the fine old fellow was to put him out to pasture.
Then he would never suffer more.
For he did not know where to find a kind master for the rest of his days.
The day after I heard that Captain was gone,
Gerry had now to look for another horse,
And he soon heard of one through an acquaintance who was undergroom in a nobleman's stables.
It was a valuable young horse,
But he had run away,
Smashed into another carriage,
Flung his lordship out and cut and blemished himself,
So he was no longer fit for a gentleman's stables.
I can do with high spirits,
Said Gerry,
If a horse is not vicious or hard-mouthed.
There's not a bit of vice in him,
Said the man.
His mouth's very tender.
I think myself that was the cause of the accident.
He'd just been clipped and the weather was bad,
And he'd not had exercise enough.
And when he did go out,
He was as full of spring as a balloon.
Our governor had him harnessed in as tight and strong as he could,
With the check rein a very sharp curb and the reins put in at the bottom bar.
It's my belief it made the horse mad,
Being tender in the mouth and so full of spirit-like.
Nighty enough,
Said Gerry.
Well,
I'll come and have a look at him.
The next day,
Hotspur,
That was his name,
Came home.
He was a fine brown horse without a white hair in him,
As tall as Captain,
With a very handsome head and only five years old.
I gave him a friendly greeting by way of good fellowship,
But I did not ask him any questions.
The first night he was very restless indeed.
Instead of lying down,
He kept jerking his halter rope up and down through the ring,
And knocking the block about against the manger till I could not sleep.
However,
The next day,
After five or six hours in the cab,
He came in quiet and sensible.
Gerry patted and talked to him a good deal,
And very soon they understood each other.
Gerry said that with an easy bit and plenty of work he would soon be as gentle as a lamb,
And that it was an ill wind that blew nobody good,
For if his lordship had lost a hundred guinea favourite,
The cabman had gained a good horse with all his strength in him.
Hotspur thought it a great comedown to be a cab horse and was disgusted at standing in the rank,
But he confessed to me at the end of the week that an easy mouth and a free head made up for a great deal,
And after all,
The work was not so degrading as having one's head and tail fastened to each other at the saddle.
In fact,
Hotspur settled in very well,
And all in all,
Gerry liked him very much.
