Chap­ter 44: Old Cap­tain and His Suc­ces­sor begins with a moment that leaves a last­ing scar on Jerry’s life and deeply affects every­one con­nect­ed to the cab ser­vice. Cap­tain, a strong and loy­al horse who has served faith­ful­ly, meets his end not through old age but due to human reck­less­ness. As Jer­ry and the hors­es make their way home, a dray­man under the influ­ence crash­es a large beer cart into their cab. The impact is brutal—Captain col­laps­es in agony, with injuries too severe for any real recov­ery. The cart is reduced to splin­ters, and while Jer­ry escapes with bruis­es, the emo­tion­al toll is far heav­ier. Captain’s time as a work­ing horse ends there, and his suf­fer­ing prompts Jer­ry to act with com­pas­sion rather than self­ish­ness. He refus­es to sell him into fur­ther hard­ship. Instead, Cap­tain is grant­ed peace, spared from being passed around until he col­laps­es else­where, for­got­ten and bro­ken.

Jerry’s deci­sion is not made light­ly. Although it means a finan­cial loss, his choice reflects a strong moral code that val­ues kind­ness over prof­it. He shares the news with his fam­i­ly, who respond with qui­et respect, under­stand­ing that Cap­tain deserves dig­ni­ty even in his final moments. This moment opens a deep­er con­ver­sa­tion between Jer­ry and his employ­er, where the top­ic of drink­ing is dis­cussed earnest­ly. Jer­ry recalls his own strug­gle with alco­hol and how it near­ly cost him every­thing. He doesn’t preach—he sim­ply shares his jour­ney. It’s through this exchange that the real weight of respon­si­bil­i­ty is under­stood. A sin­gle poor deci­sion, like dri­ving drunk, can end a life—not just of a horse, but of the humans who rely on it. Captain’s tragedy becomes a turn­ing point not just in the house­hold, but per­haps in how oth­ers think about respon­si­bil­i­ty and con­se­quences.

In time, the cab needs a new horse, and Jer­ry care­ful­ly selects one that seems capa­ble and sound: Hot­spur. Younger and more ener­getic, Hot­spur has a strong frame and a fiery spir­it that will take some man­ag­ing. Jer­ry knows the horse has history—he was once used by a noble­man, then sold after a minor street inci­dent. Rather than judge him for it, Jer­ry sees poten­tial. He believes that with patience and fair­ness, Hot­spur can adapt to the demands of cab work with­out becom­ing harsh or unpre­dictable. Black Beau­ty observes the new arrival with curios­i­ty and a bit of cau­tion, sens­ing that Hotspur’s con­fi­dence might come off as arro­gance. But Beau­ty also under­stands that time and steady work often shape young hors­es into depend­able part­ners. Jer­ry starts slow­ly with Hot­spur, nev­er push­ing him too far, too fast. That approach builds trust, set­ting the tone for their future togeth­er.

Captain’s pass­ing still lingers in the air, and Beau­ty can feel that Jer­ry works with a qui­eter kind of focus now. Though Hot­spur brings ener­gy to the sta­ble, the absence of Captain’s calm strength reminds every­one that each horse is unique and irre­place­able. Beau­ty also reflects on how lit­tle con­trol hors­es have over their fate—so much rests in the hands of the peo­ple who own or dri­ve them. It’s a truth that’s both sober­ing and deeply unfair. Yet Jerry’s house­hold proves that kind­ness, when present, can soft­en those hard truths. The con­trast between the cru­el dray­man and Jer­ry is stark. One sees ani­mals as machines; the oth­er sees them as com­pan­ions deserv­ing of respect.

The chap­ter also brings atten­tion to a broad­er social issue: the dan­gers of alco­hol in occu­pa­tions involv­ing ani­mals and vehi­cles. In Vic­to­ri­an times, drink­ing was ram­pant among labor­ers, and reg­u­la­tions were few. Acci­dents like the one that harmed Cap­tain weren’t rare—they were just rarely spo­ken about with such empa­thy. Anna Sewell’s writ­ing draws atten­tion to this not with mor­al­iz­ing, but through the real pain of her char­ac­ters. For mod­ern read­ers, it serves as a reminder of how every­day actions can have irre­versible con­se­quences. It also hints at the begin­nings of advo­ca­cy and reform. Sto­ries like Black Beauty’s helped shift pub­lic per­cep­tion, even­tu­al­ly influ­enc­ing ani­mal wel­fare laws and safer work con­di­tions for both ani­mals and humans.

With Captain’s sto­ry end­ing and Hotspur’s just begin­ning, the chap­ter clos­es on a bit­ter­sweet note. It’s a reminder that life is a series of transitions—some painful, oth­ers filled with new hope. Jerry’s steady pres­ence remains the heart of the nar­ra­tive, anchor­ing the ani­mals around him with care and con­sis­ten­cy. His choic­es demon­strate that dig­ni­ty is not reserved for humans alone. Through him, the read­er learns that true char­ac­ter is revealed in how we treat those who can­not speak. In hon­or­ing Captain’s life and wel­com­ing Hot­spur with patience, Jer­ry gives voice to a phi­los­o­phy that stands strong against the noise of a harsh world. It’s not about how much one owns or how fast one works, but about how one lives—with hon­or, com­pas­sion, and qui­et strength.