Chap­ter 46: Jakes and the Lady places Black Beau­ty in yet anoth­er chal­leng­ing chap­ter of his work­ing life. Now under the ser­vice of a corn deal­er and bak­er, he finds the nature of his work heav­ier than before. Though the own­er ensures the hors­es are fed and sta­bled prop­er­ly, his fre­quent absences leave the hors­es in the care of a fore­man with lit­tle regard for their wel­fare. This man loads the wag­ons beyond rea­son­able capac­i­ty, show­ing more con­cern for prof­its than the hors­es’ well­be­ing. Black Beau­ty is reg­u­lar­ly pushed to his phys­i­cal lim­it, espe­cial­ly on hilly routes where heavy wag­ons become almost impos­si­ble to move. On top of that, a tight­ly drawn check-rein makes the strain even worse, pre­vent­ing him from low­er­ing his head to pull more effec­tive­ly. Despite try­ing his hard­est, he often finds him­self pun­ished for not doing the impos­si­ble. Pain becomes a con­stant com­pan­ion, and hope begins to dim with each pass­ing day.

Dur­ing one such pun­ish­ing task, Black Beau­ty is dri­ven by Jakes, a man who reflects the harsh­ness of the sys­tem more than per­son­al cru­el­ty. Faced with a steep road and a cart filled to the brim, Beau­ty strug­gles to advance. Instead of rec­og­niz­ing the lim­its of the horse, Jakes responds with the whip, shout­ing threats and curs­es. Each lash adds not just to Beauty’s phys­i­cal suf­fer­ing but to a deep emo­tion­al hurt. He does not under­stand why such pun­ish­ment is giv­en when he is already giv­ing every­thing he has. A sense of help­less­ness creeps in as his legs weak­en and his breath short­ens under the chok­ing weight. To Black Beau­ty, the uphill road feels end­less, a mir­ror of the unfor­giv­ing life he’s been forced to endure. Then, just as all seems lost, a voice rises—calm, strong, and filled with con­cern.

A well-dressed lady has stopped at the scene, her face marked with gen­uine wor­ry as she sees what Black Beau­ty is endur­ing. She speaks to Jakes with­out insult, point­ing out the obvious—no crea­ture should be expect­ed to haul such a weight uphill with a tight rein hold­ing his head unnat­u­ral­ly high. Her tone is firm but not harsh, mak­ing it clear that she’s not only knowl­edge­able but com­pas­sion­ate. She urges Jakes to loosen the check-rein, explain­ing how it hin­ders the horse’s abil­i­ty to lean for­ward and use his full strength. Jakes hes­i­tates at first, defen­sive and unsure if he should take advice from a passer­by. But the lady’s rea­son­ing and qui­et author­i­ty even­tu­al­ly con­vince him. Reluc­tant­ly, he removes the check-rein, and the result is almost imme­di­ate. Black Beau­ty can low­er his head, stretch out his neck, and shift his weight—finally able to push against the har­ness in the way nature intend­ed.

With new­found strength and bal­ance, Black Beau­ty begins to pull the cart again, inch by inch, gain­ing momen­tum where there had been none. The pain eas­es, and his breath­ing stead­ies as his mus­cles work in har­mo­ny. The lady walks along­side him for a moment, offer­ing gen­tle words that seem to light­en the emo­tion­al bur­den too. In her pres­ence, Beau­ty feels some­thing that had been miss­ing for some time—dignity. Her actions, though sim­ple, stand in stark con­trast to the cru­el­ty he’s endured, and her will­ing­ness to inter­vene restores a sense of worth. For Jakes, the moment becomes a sub­tle les­son. The woman doesn’t shame him but helps him see there’s anoth­er way to work with horses—one that includes under­stand­ing and respect. As she departs, her words linger, nudg­ing him toward a change in atti­tude that might influ­ence his future choic­es.

The issue of the check-rein, also known as the bear­ing rein, is one Anna Sewell con­sis­tent­ly chal­lenges through­out Black Beau­ty. His­tor­i­cal­ly, these devices were used to force hors­es to hold their heads high for appearance’s sake, despite the immense strain this posi­tion caused. Many mod­ern ani­mal wel­fare move­ments can trace some of their ear­ly advo­ca­cy to the public’s response to this book. By illus­trat­ing the unnec­es­sary suf­fer­ing caused by such prac­tices, Sewell invit­ed her read­ers to recon­sid­er what was con­sid­ered “nor­mal” in ani­mal train­ing. In this chap­ter, the mes­sage comes through pow­er­ful­ly: small acts of com­pas­sion can chal­lenge harm­ful tra­di­tions. The lady didn’t just help one horse; she plant­ed a seed of aware­ness in a dri­ver, and per­haps oth­ers watch­ing as well.

Even today, the need for peo­ple to speak up for ani­mals remains strong. Whether it’s a horse on a hill, a dog left in the heat, or an over­worked ani­mal in tourism, small inter­ven­tions can have last­ing impact. Edu­ca­tion, empa­thy, and the courage to speak up are tools that remain just as rel­e­vant now as in Vic­to­ri­an Eng­land. Black Beauty’s expe­ri­ence teach­es that real change often starts with one per­son notic­ing and choos­ing to act. Through the actions of the lady in this chap­ter, read­ers see that kind­ness isn’t weakness—it’s a force capa­ble of soft­en­ing even the harsh­est of rou­tines.