Chap­ter 21: The Part­ing begins on a somber note as word spreads through the house­hold that the mistress’s health has declined. Her doc­tors advise a move to a milder cli­mate, and this deci­sion marks the begin­ning of a heart­felt farewell for every­one at the estate. For years, the place had been a home filled with warmth, rou­tine, and understanding—not only for the fam­i­ly but also for the hors­es under their care. The news hits hard. What had been a peace­ful and lov­ing envi­ron­ment begins to unrav­el. The ser­vants whis­per with sad­ness, and the once live­ly sta­ble grows qui­et. Black Beau­ty sens­es the unease in the humans and in his fel­low hors­es, espe­cial­ly Gin­ger and Mer­rylegs, who know that life is about to change. Noth­ing remains untouched by the weight of the mistress’s departure—not even the gen­tle brush­ing of coats feels the same any­more.

As prepa­ra­tions begin, the mas­ter announces that he will close the house entire­ly and sell the hors­es. Miss Jessie and lit­tle Flo­ra leave first, head­ing off with their gov­erness and wav­ing tear­ful good­byes. Their depar­ture feels final, and even Mer­rylegs appears sub­dued, no longer trot­ting with the same play­ful ener­gy. He is to be giv­en to the local vic­ar under one condition—that when his time comes, he will not be sold again but put down gen­tly. The master’s care in arrang­ing Mer­rylegs’ future reflects his deep con­cern for the well-being of the ani­mals that had served his fam­i­ly so faith­ful­ly. Joe, the young sta­ble hand, is entrust­ed with his care, a task he accepts with pride and qui­et deter­mi­na­tion. Mean­while, John, the depend­able coach­man, is offered a fresh path—an oppor­tu­ni­ty to work with young hors­es and train them with the same kind­ness he’s always shown.

Black Beau­ty and Gin­ger are sold togeth­er to the Earl of W—-, a man of stature who is known for main­tain­ing a fine sta­ble. The mas­ter, though heavy-heart­ed, believes this is the best future he can offer them. Beau­ty takes com­fort in the fact that he and Gin­ger will not be sep­a­rat­ed, at least not yet. Though the set­ting will be new, the famil­iar pres­ence of his com­pan­ion offers some reas­sur­ance. As the days dwin­dle, the estate pre­pares for the final depar­ture. The ser­vants, lined up by the car­riage, say their good­byes with hushed voic­es and misty eyes. The mis­tress, pale and bun­dled in lay­ers, clings gen­tly to her husband’s arm. She does not speak much, but her qui­et nods and the gen­tle touch she gives to Black Beauty’s nose speak vol­umes.

John’s farewell is the most mov­ing. Unable to voice the weight of his feel­ings, he remains silent, press­ing a hand to Beauty’s neck and nod­ding to Gin­ger. His silence car­ries more than words ever could—years of care, trust, and unspo­ken affec­tion. The car­riage pulls away slow­ly, leav­ing behind not just a house, but a chap­ter full of shared his­to­ry. For Beau­ty, the sta­ble will nev­er feel quite the same again. The com­fort of rou­tine is replaced by uncer­tain­ty. The human voic­es he had come to trust are gone, and a new life awaits. The field looks no dif­fer­ent, the stalls remain in place, but every­thing feels altered by absence.

This chap­ter cap­tures more than just phys­i­cal separation—it cap­tures emo­tion­al depar­ture. It shows how deeply ani­mals and humans can bond, how farewells between them are felt even in silence. The gen­tle way Mer­rylegs is pro­vid­ed for, the effort made to keep Beau­ty and Gin­ger togeth­er, and the dig­ni­fied good­bye between John and his hors­es all speak to the depth of care that defined this house­hold. It is not grief marked by dra­mat­ic scenes, but one shaped by respect and gen­uine affec­tion. The qui­et tears, the firm hand­shakes, the last soft brushes—they each reflect a world where loy­al­ty mat­tered. Though change is inevitable, the man­ner in which one parts leaves a last­ing impres­sion. For Black Beau­ty, this moment of loss becomes a mem­o­ry of grace and grat­i­tude, even as the road ahead remains unknown.