Chap­ter 33: A Lon­don Cab Horse begins a new chap­ter in Black Beauty’s life, bring­ing a wave of com­fort and sta­bil­i­ty through the hands of his new own­er, Jer­ry Bark­er. Jer­ry, a cab­man by trade, lives with his wife Pol­ly and their two chil­dren, Har­ry and Dol­ly. Their home is not grand, but it is full of warmth. From the first morn­ing, Black Beau­ty feels the difference—Polly greets him with gen­tle­ness, and Dol­ly offers a car­rot with a shy smile. Young Har­ry, already famil­iar with sta­ble work, prais­es Beauty’s con­di­tion and helps with groom­ing. When Jer­ry decides to name him “Jack,” after a horse he once cher­ished, it becomes a sym­bol­ic ges­ture of fresh begin­nings. Pol­ly agrees, not­ing that the name car­ries a good rep­u­ta­tion and that Jack must live up to it. For the first time in a long while, Beau­ty feels val­ued, not just used.

Jerry’s approach to horse care is marked by patience and thought­ful­ness. Unlike pre­vi­ous own­ers who rushed and whipped, he takes the time to ensure the har­ness fits com­fort­ably and that no part rubs or chafes. On their first dri­ve togeth­er, he walks Beau­ty gen­tly through the busy Lon­don streets, allow­ing him to adjust at his own pace. He speaks soft­ly, using his voice more than the reins to guide. This approach doesn’t just reduce stress—it builds trust. Jerry’s oth­er horse, Cap­tain, moves along­side with the calm assur­ance of expe­ri­ence. The two hors­es soon find a rhythm, work­ing well as a team. Pol­ly watch­es them leave with qui­et pride, hope­ful that this new part­ner­ship will suc­ceed. Every action in this house­hold, from the brush­ing of coats to the mend­ing of straps, reflects care—not just func­tion. This is a home where kind­ness is part of the rou­tine, not the excep­tion.

As days pass, Black Beau­ty begins to under­stand the rou­tine and expec­ta­tions of cab work in Lon­don. The city buzzes with noise—street ven­dors shout, wheels rat­tle over stone, and crowds swell at every cor­ner. Yet even in this chaos, Jer­ry remains calm. He nev­er lash­es out or pulls rough­ly, even when traf­fic is slow or pas­sen­gers are rude. He han­dles both hors­es and peo­ple with dig­ni­ty. This influ­ence extends to Har­ry, who learns by exam­ple and imi­tates his father’s tone and man­ner. Beau­ty finds the streets chal­leng­ing but man­age­able, espe­cial­ly with Captain’s steady pres­ence near­by. When­ev­er a fare fin­ish­es, Jer­ry checks the hors­es before any­thing else, loos­en­ing straps or offer­ing water if need­ed. His actions speak vol­umes, show­ing that good work comes from care—not cru­el­ty.

Jerry’s pro­fes­sion­al­ism stands out to oth­ers at the cab rank. He doesn’t boast or argue, but his cab is always clean, his hors­es healthy, and his fares sat­is­fied. He avoids gos­sip and unnec­es­sary short­cuts, focus­ing on doing his job right. Though some mock his atten­tion to detail, oth­ers qui­et­ly admire it. Pol­ly occa­sion­al­ly brings meals to the stand, with Dol­ly in tow, and their pres­ence brings a bit of home to the street. Even the gruffest cab­men soft­en when Dol­ly offers a sweet or when Pol­ly shares a warm cup of tea. This sense of balance—between hard work and fam­i­ly warmth—creates a life that’s rich in ways mon­ey can’t mea­sure. For Black Beau­ty, it is the begin­ning of heal­ing, both phys­i­cal­ly and emo­tion­al­ly. Under Jerry’s care, he learns that not all peo­ple are harsh and that kind­ness can be con­sis­tent, not con­di­tion­al.

Cap­tain, the old­er horse, becomes a qui­et men­tor to Beau­ty. Though he doesn’t speak much, his calm demeanor teach­es through action. Cap­tain’s expe­ri­ence in war and city life gives him a depth that oth­ers respect. Beau­ty observes how Cap­tain con­serves his strength, moves with econ­o­my, and responds to Jerry’s cues with pre­ci­sion. The two hors­es soon work togeth­er as if they had always been a team. Jer­ry trusts them, and in turn, they give him their best. It’s not about speed but about steadi­ness. And in a city as demand­ing as Lon­don, that steady rhythm becomes their great­est strength. Each day ends not with exhaus­tion, but with qui­et sat­is­fac­tion and a pat on the neck.

This chap­ter marks more than just a change in ownership—it is a shift in phi­los­o­phy. Here, work is paired with respect, dis­ci­pline with affec­tion. Jer­ry Bark­er is not just a cabman—he is a man of prin­ci­ple who believes that kind­ness can live even in the busiest cor­ners of the world. For Black Beau­ty, it’s not just anoth­er sta­ble; it’s a place of dig­ni­ty. And in that set­ting, his spir­it begins to mend.