Chapter 40: Poor Ginger brings with it a moment of quiet shock and deep sorrow as Black Beauty encounters a figure from his past in heartbreaking condition. Resting near the stand, Beauty notices a worn cab being pulled by a thin chestnut mare, barely able to lift her legs as she strains against the shafts. Her ribs are visible through her dull coat, and her knees look swollen and stiff with overuse. There is no grace left in her step, only the trembling of a body pushed far beyond its strength. The mare stumbles to a stop near Beauty, and when she lowers her head toward his hay, he recognizes her—Ginger, his old companion. Time and hardship have changed her so much that only her voice and markings confirm her identity. This chance meeting fills Beauty with both joy and anguish, knowing that the proud, spirited horse he once knew is now reduced to such suffering.

In soft, weary tones, Ginger recounts the path that brought her here. After being sold by the people at Earlshall, her life took a downward turn. At first, her new master was kind, and she had hopes of rest and better care. But old strains in her legs returned, and once her work slowed, she was sold again. Each sale brought her into the hands of someone less patient, less kind, and more focused on profit than wellbeing. Her diet grew worse, her stable grew colder, and her treatment harsher. Ginger admits that she has long since given up the will to resist. Her days are filled with hauling passengers who rarely notice her, while her driver lashes out at every misstep. The pain in her limbs is constant, and her spirit—once so fiery—is nearly gone.

Their conversation is interrupted as her driver returns and yanks her reins roughly, pulling her back into the street. As she disappears into the crowd, Beauty is left haunted by the encounter. He realizes how quickly fortunes change for horses in their world. One moment, they are admired and well-kept; the next, they are sold off and forgotten. Ginger’s story is not rare—it is the fate of many. Even animals who serve faithfully and with strength are discarded the moment their bodies begin to fail. This reality fills Beauty with dread, not just for Ginger but for himself and others like them. He wishes he could have helped her, but in the cab ranks, compassion often gives way to survival. His heart aches long after she vanishes from sight.

Ginger’s decline paints a vivid picture of the broader system that governs the lives of working horses in cities. These animals are not valued for who they are but for what they can do. Once their usefulness fades, they are passed down to owners who demand more with fewer resources and less care. The system rarely offers reprieve—only the slow erosion of body and spirit. For many cab horses, the routine is punishing: long hours, poor shelter, and no time to heal. Injuries go untreated, and complaints go unheard. Ginger’s swollen joints and dull eyes speak volumes about the physical toll of such a life. Yet the deeper tragedy lies in the emotional toll—the loss of identity, dignity, and hope that follows when compassion is stripped away day by day.

What makes this chapter so powerful is not just the pain it reveals but the memory it revives. Ginger was once bold, confident, and strong-willed, never afraid to speak her mind. Her presence in earlier chapters added a balance to Beauty’s gentler nature, showing strength through independence. Seeing her like this is a stark reminder that no spirit, however strong, is immune to suffering when neglected long enough. This meeting also forces readers to confront a difficult truth: the fate of many animals is tied not to their behavior, but to how people treat them. One owner’s neglect can undo years of care, and there’s rarely a second chance once the downward slide begins. Ginger’s story calls for empathy not only for the animals we care for but also for those we pass by without notice.

Animal welfare remains a critical concern even today, and the story of Ginger resonates across generations. Around the world, working animals in urban and rural settings still face the same challenges—overuse, undernourishment, and abandonment. Advocates continue to fight for improved legislation, shelter access, and education on humane treatment. But stories like Ginger’s remind us that laws alone are not enough. Real change begins with awareness and the willingness to see animals as more than tools. Compassion must be practiced, not assumed. In Ginger’s quiet suffering and her final meeting with Beauty, Anna Sewell delivers one of the book’s most emotional appeals: the call to treat every creature with the dignity they deserve, no matter their strength, age, or usefulness.