Chapter 25: Reuben Smith opens with the introduction of a man widely respected for his deep understanding of horses and his calm, capable demeanor. Reuben, placed in charge during York’s brief leave, quickly earns the trust of the estate with his blend of hands-on knowledge and a gentle approach. His history includes time spent with a veterinary surgeon, where he picked up valuable insights into equine health. He drives all sorts of teams with skill—whether a four-in-hand or a tandem—and carries himself with a likable ease. Horses seem to trust him, and his peers often praise his quick instincts and care. In every sense, he fits the mold of the ideal horseman. Yet, beneath this polished surface lies a weakness that threatens everything he builds. Reuben has a known tendency to drink, and while not constant, these episodes create dangerous unpredictability.

This flaw overshadows his otherwise commendable service. During his low points, Reuben loses his ability to manage both animals and himself. A past incident involving a drunken outing caused such alarm that he was dismissed despite his talents. His family suffered, and the trust others placed in him vanished overnight. But York, recognizing Reuben’s rare skill and believing in second chances, advocated for his return—on the condition he give up drinking entirely. For a time, Reuben held to this promise. He worked with renewed focus, rebuilding the faith of those around him. His reinstatement was a quiet triumph, and York’s decision seemed justified. When York had to travel to London, Reuben was once again entrusted with responsibility—this time with Black Beauty in his care. Everyone hoped the past was behind him.

The critical test came when Reuben was asked to drive Colonel Blantyre to the station. He handled the journey with his usual confidence, treating Beauty with care and insisting the horse not be rushed unnecessarily. His attention to the horse’s welfare earned him further approval. But after seeing the Colonel off, Reuben made a fateful decision. He delayed his return, intending only a brief stop to visit old friends. What began as a friendly reunion led him back to old habits. By the time he left, Reuben had been drinking, and the consequences of this lapse began to unfold. Earlier in the day, he had noticed one of Black Beauty’s shoes was loose but had chosen to ignore it. In his altered state, that detail was forgotten.

As the day wore on and the roads emptied, Reuben pressed Beauty harder than usual. The route home had recently been resurfaced with sharp stones, and the pace he chose was both unnecessary and dangerous. Black Beauty, though strong, struggled with the unstable shoe and rough ground. But Reuben, dulled by alcohol and rushing to make up for lost time, didn’t adjust. The pain in Beauty’s hoof grew with every stride, yet no signal reached his driver. The risk to both man and horse increased with each mile. It wasn’t long before disaster struck, though the exact moment of the fall is not witnessed in this chapter.

This chapter serves as a sobering reflection on human flaws, especially when left unchecked. Reuben was not a cruel man, nor was he without knowledge or affection for animals. But his failure to control a personal vice led to a chain of poor choices with serious consequences. Anna Sewell does not portray Reuben as a villain, but rather as a man torn between good intentions and deep-seated habits. His relapse doesn’t erase his earlier care for Beauty, but it does underscore how even one misstep, when responsible for another life, can undo years of trust. Beauty, ever observant and forgiving, feels the effects not of malice but of neglect and misplaced confidence. The tragedy of Reuben’s story is that talent alone isn’t enough; character, consistency, and self-awareness matter just as much—especially when others rely on you.