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MAIL AND STAGE COACHING

IN GREAT BRITAIN

THE OLD FOUR-IN-HAND DAYS.

Second Edition, with 12 Illustrations in Chromolithography
from Original Paintings by H. Aiken, in medium 8vo.
price 21s.

J)OWN THE ROAD; or, Reminiscences
of a Gentleman-Coachman. By C. T. S. Birch
Reynardson.

'A book full of cheery gossip and anecdote about coaching, which is
sure to be read with pleasure by many a veteran to whom it will recall
the past.' . Standard.

' Materially assisted by Alken's admirable illustrations, as true to
the times as the text, Doivn tlie Road is sure to find favour with sports-
men.' Field.

London, LONGMANS ,\: CO.

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ANNALS OF THE ROAD

OR

NOTES ON MAIL AND STAGE COACHING
IN GREAT BRITAIN

BY

CAPTAIN MALET

XVI Ilth HUSSARS

TO WHICH ARE ADDED

ESSAYS ON THE ROAD, BY NIMROD

FLOREAT RHEDA QUAtfRIGALIS

LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.

1876

All rights reserved

LONDON : PRINTED BY

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE

AND PARLIAMENT STREET

TO THE

RIGHT HON.

LORD JOHN MANNERS, M.P.

POSTMASTER-GENERAL

PREFACE.

A natural fondness for the Road and its associations
has induced me, from time to time, to collect notes on all
matters in connexion therewith. The recent revival of
stage-coaching, and consequently of the art of coachman-
ship, dating, we may say, from 1866, when the 'Old
Times ' was put on the Brighton Road, that road having
been left vacant by the withdrawal of the ' Age' in 1862,
has turned the minds of many to this subject. With a
view therefore to assist their enquiries, I publish my
collections.

Apart from my desultory notes, Nimrod's treatises
on the Road, appended to these collections, give a com-
plete systematic theory of coaching ; and my desire that
the lover of the Road should have at hand a volume for
reference and information induced me to rush into print.
For, as Peter Beckford said of hunting, so may it be
said of coaching, ' there is no doubt that the practical
part of it would be improved were theory to accompany
it.' In considering the construction of carriages, friction,
motion, gravitation, and velocity are the first subjects
which demand the attention of practical coachmen. Of

viii PREFACE.

course there are coachmen and coachmen ; but to those
who would become real coachmen, I would earnestly
recommend the study of the origin of wheeled convey-
ances, in the excellent treatise on draught by William
Youatt, appended to his work on ' The Horse.' In that
treatise will be found most useful and necessary hints,
due attention to which would prevent many an accident
which might otherwise be caused by ignorance of the
simplest mechanical principles. In truth, the properties
of carriages are seldom thoroughly understood by those
who build them. ' Yet nothing,' it has been well said,
' is more essential for gentlemen who keep a carriage
to know, than the various principles on which they may
be built to suit their convenience ; ' 1 it might have been
added — ' and that of their horses.'

To become a practical coachman, it is necessary to
understand thoroughly the subject of draught by animal
power. Direct practical information respecting this will
be found in Youatt's treatise. The coachman should care-
fully peruse, and stow away in his knowledge-boot, the in-
structions there given regarding the angle of inclination
of the line of traction. He will thus learn how to put his
horses to, and how to make the most of his moving
power. The necessity of acquiring this knowledge will
be sufficiently obvious to justify my insisting on the
primary importance of mastering the theories of draught
and coachbuilding.

Perfection in the practice of driving, too, is only to be

1 Felton on Carriages, 1796.

PREFACE. ix

attained by attending at the same time to the theory. It
is only by being well up in his work, and knowing what
he is at, that the tyro can be put on the same footing
as ' one of us,' as the old coachman has it.

The name of Nimrod, and the masterly style of his
writings on all sporting subjects, are well known ; and
his essays on ' The Road,' which originally appeared in
the form of letters to the ' Sporting Magazine,' and are
now reproduced in this volume, will be read with delight
by both old and young hands. A careful study of them
will enable the tyro to perfect himself in the theory of
the art of coachmanship ; and the dragsman may learn
' a thing or two ' by the perusal of these truly unique
essays, now for the first time collected and published in
a separate form.

To be a coachman, says Nimrod, you must take your
degree ; for driving four horses is an art, ' and a very
pretty //art,' as was said by that excellent coachman
' Chester Billy.' The knowledge necessary to qualify a
man for his degree will be found in Nimrod, and by
acquiring it the theory of driving will be mastered.

The fact of my residence in India increases in many
ways the difficulty of compiling a work of this sort
There comes, moreover, the terrible thought that pos-
sibly an opposition coach may have entered on the road
at home, and have taken up all the passengers. Still I
hope that those of my own ' yard ' will be with me, and
should the coaching lore which I ' put to ' so interest
and amuse the reader as to make those drive now who
never drove before, and those who always drove now

PRE FA CE.

drive the more * (I must apologise for thus rendering
Miss Berry), then my ' point' will have hit its object.

I have appended to the work a glossary of terms
used in connection with 'The Road.' These, with the
specimens of the Road slang which I have given, will be
found, I trust, useful and amusing to all lovers of the road.
They are really a part — no small part either — of the
lessons to be learnt by the aspirant to the ' box.'

I have to offer my very best thanks to Mr. Benthall,
of the General Post Office, for aiding me in matters re-
lating to the history of mail coaches, and also to Mr.
Nevill, late guard on the Carlisle mail. I am much
indebted to Mr. Gould of the G.P.O. for the use of his
pictures of the different mails in snow storms.

Bangalore, India: December 1874.

1 Like Tommy, the eccentric Lord Onslow, of whom George Selwyn

said : —

Little Tommy Titmouse, what can he do ?

Drive a phaeton and two.

What can little Tommy do more ?

Drive a phaeton and four.

This jest was first broached in a box at the Opera house ; and Lady Bridget
Tollemache immediately observed, ' Little Tommy, then, has changed from
On-slow to On-fast'

Mediocre, though, if from a wit professed,
The listening world content repeats the jest.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I

I. Early Coach-Travelling ....

II. Common Stages and Hackney Coaches

III. Stage-Coaches in the Eighteenth Century .

IV. Her Majesty's State Coach. Napoleon's Coach
V. Roads and Rate of Speed ....

VI. John Palmer and the Mail Coach System

VII. Regulations ......

VIII. Further Regulations. De Quincy on Coaching

IX. Procession of Mails on the King's Birthday

X. Use of the Key Bugle. ....

XI. Work and Wages of Guards. Driving Clubs

XII. Dangers of the Road .....

XIII. The White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly. Short Stages

XIV. Coaching in the North of England
XV. Peter Pry's Letter. Coachmen. Yards

XVI. Washington Irving's Portrait of a Stage-Coachman 84

XVII. John Day, a Pathetic Ballad
XVIII. Ascot . . . .

5

9

15

21

25
30
36
40

43
49
55
64
68

7i

87
90

Xll

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

XIX. The Great Western Road

XX. Coaching on May Day. Bearing Reins

XXI. The Brighton Road

XXII. The Brighton Road — continued

XXIII. The Brighton Road— concluded .

XXIV. Sir John Fagg .

XXV. Ode to Dragsmen ....

XXVI. Memories and Regrets

XXVII. On Accidents ....

XXVIII. A Chapter of Anecdotes

XXIX. A Drive on the Great Western Road

XXX. Mr. Jacob's Invention

XXXI. Revival of Coaching

XXXII. Retrospective . . . . .

PAGE

95
101
104

"3
120
127

134
137
142

'Si
160

163
16c
172

Essays by Nimrod

The Dawn of Coaching

On Harnessing .....

poling-up and breechings .

Long and Short Wheel-Reins

Stanhopes and Fashionable Carriages .

Bearing-Reins, Fast Coaches, and Linch-Pins

On Coachmen ....

The B. D. C, and Four-Horse Club

On Accidents ....

Night Work .....

Lamp- .....

177

1 So
184
199
209
218

231
246

271

290

310

313

CONTENTS.

xni

Essays by Nimrod — continued.

Roads

Coaches

Use of the Whip

Directions for Driving

Night Work

Coach Horses

Young Horses .

Wages and Coachmen

Guards .

Gkntlemen-Coachmen

3J6

323
328

336
346
348
355
358
366

372

APPENDICES.

A. Some Road Slang Terms

B. Instructions for Mail-Guards

• 389

• 397

C. Names of Roads, with the Standards from which they

are Measured ...... 402

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

COLOURED PLATES.

Duke of Beaufort's Drag Frontispiece

A Stage Coach To face p. 9

A Mail Coach

The Holyhead and Chester Mails at Hockley
Hill, near Dunstable, on Monday, December 26,
1836 (J. Wood and W. Hook, guards) . . ■ .

' Bull and Mouth ' Yard

The Devonport Mail near Amesbury going Post
through a drift of snow on tuesday,
December 27, 1836 (F. Feacham, guard) . . .

The Birmingham Mail near Aylesbury. The Guard,
W. Price, proceeding with the Bags. Monday,
December 26, 1836 .

The Liverpool Mail near St. Albans on Tuesday,
December 27, 1836 (James Burdett, guard) . .

The Mails Meeting—' Good-Night ' .

The Result of Feather-edging

WOODCUTS.

Brake Handles and Brake Blocks
Mr. Jacob's Invention
Coach Undercarriage

32

62
80

100

132

150
237
376

i47
164

392

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER I.

Errata

Page 51, line 16, for Sir Henry Payton read Sir Henry Peyton
>i 82, ,, 2, ,, running reins ,, bearing reins

,, 251, foot-note, ,, pp. 66 and 119 ,, p. 51

AIalet's Annals of the Road.

x. m

from Antioch to Constantinople. He began his journey
at night, was in Cappadocia, 165 miles from Antioch, on
the ensuing evening, and arrived at Constantinople on
the sixth day about noon ; the whole distance being 725
Roman, or 665 English miles. It is worthy of mention
that Cicero, writing to a friend in Britain, remarked that
there was nothing worth bringing out of the island but
chariots, of which he wished to have one for a pattern.

B

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER I.

EARLY COACH TRAVELLING.

The classical era of coachmanship is well described, and
details concerning the mode of putting horses together at
that period are given, in Nimrod's and Youatt's treatises ;
and but little real advance seems to have been made in
the science of the road until the middle of the seventeenth
century. Gibbon certainly records an instance of early
post travelling which almost transcends the brightest
achievements of our English service, even in the palmiest
days of mail coaches. Csesarius, a magistrate of high
rank in the time of the Emperor Theodosius, went post
from Antioch to Constantinople. He began his journey
at night, was in Cappadocia, 165 miles from Antioch, on
the ensuing evening, and arrived at Constantinople on
the sixth day about noon ; the whole distance being 725
Roman, or 665 English miles. It is worthy of mention
that Cicero, writing to a friend in Britain, remarked that
there was nothing worth brin^ino; out of the island but
chariots, of which he wished to have one for a pattern.

B

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

This statement, I think, warrants us islanders in flattering
ourselves that we take precedence in coaching of all
the world. Wheel carriages, bearing some resemblance to
chariots, first came into use in England in the reign of
King Richard II., about the year 1388. They were
called whirlicotes, and were little better than litters or
cotes (cots) placed on wheels. We are told by Master
John Stowe * that 'Richard II. being threatened by the
rebels of Kent, rode from the Tower of London to the
Miles End, and with him his mother, because she was
sick and weak, in a whirlicote.' This is described as an
ugly vehicle of four boards put together in a clumsy
manner ; so clumsily that, on occasion of the grand entry
of Richard II. into London, described by Richard de
Maidstone, we learn that when the ladies of the Court
were riding in two of these carts, one of them fell over
and ' exposed its fair occupants in a not very decorous
manner to the jeers of the multitude.' At the celebration
of the feast of St. George at Windsor in 1487 (3 Henry
VII.), we are told that the Queen and the King's mother
rode in a chaise covered with a rich cloth of gold.

We may judge of the state of the road in the sixteenth
century from the means of conveyance then used by the
wealthiest and noblest family in England, that of the fifth
Earl of Northumberland. In the establishment of this
nobleman in 15 12, there were, as Berenger tells us, 'seven
great trottynge hors to draw in the chariott, and a nagg
for the chariott-man to ride.' The chariott or car was a
vehicle in various forms, but far inferior to the chariot

1 ' Surveye of London and Westminster.'

EARLY COACH-TRAVELLING.

or coach in common use, in which the furniture or
movables were conveyed, or perchance, the domestic
servants of the family. The Lord and Lady usually
rode on horseback. They had slow-paced heavy horses,
perhaps not much unlike the carriage horses of a century
ago, which drew the plough all the week and took the
family to church on Sunday. It must not be forgotten that
the chariot-man or coachman then used to ride by the side
of the horses, and so conducted them and the carriage).

In the twenty-second year of Queen Elizabeth the
use of coaches l (private carriages) became more general,
The heads of noble houses, nevertheless, in their travels,
almost from one end of the kingdom to the other, still
rode on horseback, except when they took refuge, as they
occasionally did, in the cars generally appropriated to their
household. Even the Oueen when she went in state to
St. Paul's rode behind her Master of the Horse. The
convenience of the new mode of carriage caused it to
be immediately adopted by all who could afford it ; and
horses were so rapidly bought up for this purpose, and
became so exorbitantly dear, that the question was dis-
cussed in Parliament whether the use of carriages should
not be confined to the higher classes.

Stowe, in his ' Surveye,' speaking of the same era,

1 The word coach, if derived frorh caroche {carosse, caroccio), signifies a
large car or waggon. Menage makes it Latin, and by far-fetched derivations
traces it from vchiailiim. Junius derives it from o^fo), to carry. Wachter
seeks its origin in the obsolete German word kutten, to cover. Some say the
word is of Hungarian extraction, taking its origin from the village of Kitsee
(Kotsee or Cotzi). There certainly was a Hungarian carriage known in
the sixteenth century, and it was a covered carriage too.

B 2

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

tells us that ' divers great ladies made them coaches, and
rode in them up and down the countries to the great
admiration of all beholders.' The fashion soon spread ;
and Stowe adds, what is often true in the present day,
' The world runs on wheels with many whose parents
were glad to go on foot' These coaches were heavy
and unwieldy, and probably bore some rough resemblance
to the state coaches still used occasionally in Court pro-
cessions.

At this period there were but one or two main roads,
and these were infested by bands of robbers ; a fact which
made travelling in carriages much more insecure, as well
as more difficult, than performing the journey on horse-
back.

The first hollow turning coach built for Oueen Eliza-
beth, by Walter Ripon, was nothing but a cart without
springs, covered over with a gorgeous canopy, and with
chairs or seats fixed in it. Ripon does not seem to have
greatly promoted coaching by his invention, for the
Queen suffered so much during her journey in his coach
when she went to open Parliament, that she would
never use it again. Consequently the coach went out of
fashion in London, though the county gentry seem to
have patronised it.

The Queen's coachman, one Bonner, a Dutchman,
did a great deal in 1564 towards bringing coaches into
use; and his style of 'conveniency ' was greatly im-
proved upon by the Earl of Arundel in 1580.

COMMON STAGES AND HACKNEY COACHES.

CHAPTER II.

COMMON STAGES AND HACKNEY COACHES.

The introduction of a regular system of carrying by
what are known as ' common stages ' and ' hackney
coaches,'1 is noted by Fynes Moryson, who, in his ' Ten
Years of Travel through Great Britain and other Parts
of Europe,' published in 1617, says: ' Sixty years ago
coaches were very rare in England,' but in his own day,
pride was so far increased that there were few gentlemen
of any account (i.e. ' elder brothers,' as he parentheti-
cally explains), ' who had not their coaches, so that the
streets of London were stopped up with them.'

We have ample evidence from other sources of the
annoyances caused to the ordinary dwellers in London
by the great amount of coach traffic through the narrow

1 The term ' hackney coach ' is of French origin. In France a strong
kind of cob horse (hacquenee) was let out on hire for short journeys. These
were latterly harnessed, to accommodate several wayfarers at once, to a
plain vehicle called coche-a-hacquencc— hence the name. The legend that
traces their origin to Hackney, near London, is a vulgar error. They were
first licensed in 1662, and were at the same time subjected to regulations.
The number plying in London was fixed at 1,000. The fares were raised in
1 77 1. The number of coaches was increased in 1799, and frequently since.
The coachmakers became subject to a license in 1785, and the hackney
chariots, coaches, and cabriolets in 18 14.

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

thoroughfares, and many methods were suggested of
abating the nuisance.

In 1619 a tax of 40/. a year (which was then
equivalent to 200/. at least of our present currency) was
supposed to be levied on all persons below a certain
degree who kept a coach. In January 1635-36, King
Charles I. found it necessary to issue a Proclamation 'for
restraint of the multitude and promiscuous use of coaches
about London and Westminster.' From the terms of
this document we gather that the great number of
hackney coaches in London and Westminster, and the
general use of coaches, had become a great nuisance to
the King, the Queen, the nobility and others of place
and degree in their passage through the streets. The
streets were also so ' pestered,' and the pavement so
broken up, that the common passage was hindered and
made dangerous, and the prices of hay and provender
were alarmingly high. These coaches for hire did not
stand in the street, but at the principal inns.

His Majesty therefore commanded that no hackney
coach should be used, except to travel three miles out of
London ; and that no person should go in a coach in the
streets of London, unless he kept four horses for his
Majesty's service whenever his occasions should require.
This prohibition was not enforced after the King's death.
In 1637 there were in London and Westminster fifty
hackney coaches.

For the most part, says Moryson, Englishmen, es-
pecially in long journeys, used to ride upon their own
horses ; for hired horses, two shillings was paid for the

COMMON STAGES AND HACKNEY COACHES. 7

first day and eighteen-pence for each succeeding day that
the horse was required by the traveller. Lastly, the
carriers had long covered waggons, in which they carried
passengers from city to city ; but this kind of journeying
is described as so tedious, that none but women and
people of inferior condition, or strangers (among whom
he particularly instances the Flemings, their wives and
servants), avail themselves of it.

It was in 16 19 that the Duke of Buckingham set the
example of being drawn by six horses. The Earl of
Northumberland, partly not to be outdone, and partly out
of ridicule, immediately began to drive eight, which in
this day no one in England but Queen Victoria may do.

In 1640, the Dover Road, owing to the extent of
Continental traffic constantly kept up, was perhaps the
best in England. Yet three or four days were often
consumed in the journey between Dover and London.

Chamberlayn in his ' Present state of Great Britain '
(1649), thus speaks up for stage coaches : ' Besides the
excellent arrangement of conveying men and letters on
horseback, there is of late such an admirable commo-
diousness, both for men and women to travel from
London to the principal towns in the country, that the
like hath not been known in the world : and that is by
stage coaches, wherein anyone may be transported to
any place sheltered from foul weather and foul ways, free
from endamaging of one's health and one's body by hard
jogging or over-violent motion ; and this not only at a
low price (about a shilling for every five miles) but with

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

such velocity and speed in one hour as that the post in
some foreign countries cannot make in one day/

In 1662, when there were still only six stage coaches
in the whole kingdom, one John Crossel, of the Charter
House, London, took alarm and wrote a pamphlet de-
manding the suppression of these conveyances, on the
ground that they would inflict a serious injury on society.

Some of his reasons are curious. ' These coaches,'
says he, ' make gentlemen to come to London upon very
small occasion, which otherwise they would not do but
upon urgent necessity ; nay, the conveniency of the pas-
sage makes their wives often come up, who rather than
come such long journeys on horseback, would stay at
home. Here, when they come to town, they must go in
the mode, get fine clothes, go to plays and treats, and by
these means get such a habit of idleness and love of
pleasure, that they are uneasy ever after.'

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STAGE COACHES IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 9

CHAPTER III.

STAGE COACHES IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

Stage coaching became general between the years 1662
and 1703. The stage coaches running between London
and York, Chester, and Exeter, at this period did not run
at all during winter, but were laid up for the season like
ships during arctic frosts, and were what we now call
' butterflies.' Sometimes the roads were so bad, even in
summer, that it was all the horses could do to drag the
coach alone, the passengers having perforce to walk for
miles together. In the case of the York coach especially
the difficulties were formidable. Not only were the
roads bad, but the low Midland counties were especially
liable to floods ; and during their prevalence it was
nothing unusual for passengers to remain at some town
en route for days together, until the roads were dry.

Public opinion was divided as to the merits of stage
coach travelling. When the new mode threatened alto-
gether to supersede the old mode of travelling on horse-
back, great opposition manifested itself; and the organs
of public opinion began to revile the new. One pam-
phleteer went so far as to denounce the introduction of
stage coaches as the greatest evil ' that had happened
of late years in these kingdoms ; ' ' mischievous to the
public, prejudicial to trade, and destructive to lands.'
' Those who travel in these coaches contract an idle habit
of body, become weary and listless when they have rode

IO

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

a few miles, and are then unable to travel on horseback,
to endure frost, snow, or rain, or to lodge in the fields!

So tedious indeed, at the beginning of the seven-
teenth century, was the communication between one
place and another, that a letter from Yorkshire to Oxford
could scarcely be answered in less than a month.1

A hundred years later, about i 703, the journey from
London to Portsmouth occupied about fourteen hours,
and whether it could be accomplished even in this time
depended on the state of the roads.

The York stage, a four-day coach, began running on
Friday, April 1 2, 1 706. The following notice was issued
of its establishment : —

ALL that are desirous to pass from LONDON
to YORK, or any other place on their road, let
them repair to the 'BLACK SWAN,' HOLBORN, in
LONDON, and the 'BLACK SWAN' in CONEY
STREET, YORK, at both which places they may be
received in a STAGE COACH every Monday,
WEDNESDAY, and Friday, which performs the whole
journey in four days (if God permits), and sets forth at
five in the morning, and returns from York to Stamford
in two days, and Stamford to Huntingdon in two days
more, and the other like stages on their return, allowing
each passenger 14 pounds weight, and all above 3 pence
per pound.

fB. KINGMAN.
Performed by \ H. HAINSFORD.
W. BAYNES.

1 .

Scrapbook,' by Doctor Robert Chambers.

STAGE COACHES IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, n

The old stage or travelling waggon, which was used
for the conveyance of passengers and merchandise, de-
serves some notice. On the principal roads, strings of
stag-e-wagfeons used to travel together. Besides these
conveyances there were 'strings of horses,' pack-horses,
travelling somewhat quicker than the waggons, for the
conveyance of light goods, or passengers, and generally
on narrow paths known as ' pack-horse roads.' One of
these pack-horse roads of 200 years ago may still be seen
in a good state of preservation about a mile eastward
from Haltwhistle in Northumberland. It adjoins the old
mail coach road, and is within a hundred yards of the
railway. Thus brought within a stone's throw of each
other are pack-horse road, coach-road, and rail, marking
the changes which a couple of centuries have wrought in
the means of locomotion. The stage waggons, as a rule,
travelled at an extremely slow pace ; and except on the
Liverpool and London road, they seldom changed horses,
but used the same teams throughout. The pace indeed
was proverbially so slow in the North of England, that
it was jocularly said that the publicans of Furness in
Lancashire, when they saw the conductors of the travel-
ling merchandise trains appear in sight, on the summit of
Wrynose Hill, on their way between Whitehaven and
Kendal, would begin to brew their beer, always having a
stock of good drink manufactured by the time the
travellers reached the village !

It was long after the invention of coaches that a
coach-box was added to the body. ' The coachman '
says Mr. Strutt, ' joineth a horse, fixed to match a saddle-

12 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

horse to the coach tree, then he sitteth upon the saddle,
and when there were four horses he drove those which
went before him, guiding them with a rein.'

In 1742 the Oxford stage used to leave London at
seven a.m., arrived at Uxbridge at midday, and at High
Wycombe at five p.m. ; here they slept, and thence pro-
ceeded to Oxford the next day. The Dover stage was
started in March 1 75 1 , as appears from the copy of an
advertisement on opposite page in the ' London Evening
Post' of that date. It will be seen that nearly two days
were then occupied in the journey from London to Dover.
This coach probably became afterwards a day coach, con-
tinuing its journey through from Canterbury, and it may
have been the first day coach to Dover.

No passengers were then carried on the roof ; and the
conveniency referred to behind the coach was evidently
the basket in vogue for many years afterwards.

As early as 1754 a company of merchants in Man-
chester started a new vehicle called ' The Flying-
Coach ' ; which designation it seems to have owed to the
fact that its proprietors contemplated running it at the
accelerated speed of about five miles an hour. Its
pretensions are set forth in the following terms : —

1 However incredible it may appear, this coach will
actually (barring accidents) arrive in London in four days
and a half after leaving Manchester.'

A hundred and twenty years ago there was no regular
staee coach from London to Edinburgh, and the Scottish
newspapers occasionally contained advertisements, stating
that an individual about to proceed to the metropolis by

STAGE COACHES IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 13

(Copy). ' London Evening Post,' March 28, 1 75 1.

A STAGE COACH

WILL SET OUT

For DOVER every Wednesday and Friday from
CHRISTOPHER SHAW'S, the 'GOLDEN CROSS,'
at four in the morning, to go over Westminster Bridge
to ROCHESTER to dinner, to CANTERBURY at
night, and to DOVER the next morning early ; will take
passengers for

ROCHESTER, SITTINGBOURNE, OSPRINGE, AND
CANTERBURY,

And returns on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

By

f Thos. Ha etc up.
\liOBT. Legeyt.

{Richd. Stradwick.
Cat//. Pordadge.

ggp There will be a conveniency behind the coach for
baggage and outside passengers.

a post-chaise, would be glad to hear of a fellow-adven-
turer or two, that, by mutual assistance the expense of
the journey might be diminished. Before 1754, however,
a stage coach was established on the route between the
two British capitals ; and in the Edinburgh ' Courant ' for
that year it was announced by advertisement that : —

14 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

THE EDINBURGH STAGE COACH

For the better accommodation of passengers, will be
altered to a new genteel two-end glass coach machine,
being on steel springs, exceeding light, and easy to go in
ten days in summer and twelve in winter ; to set out the

FIRST TUESDAY IN MARCH,

And continue it from HOSEA EASTGATE'S, the
'COACH AND HORSES,' in DEAN STREET,
SOHO, LONDON, and from JOHN SOMERVILLE'S,
in the CANONGATE, EDINBURGH, every other
Tuesday, and meet at BURROW BRIDGE on
Saturday night, and set out from thence on Monday
MORNING, and get to LONDON and EDINBURGH
on Friday. In winter to set out from LONDON to
EDINBURGH every other (alternate) Monday morn-
ing, and to go to BURROW BRIDGE on Saturday
night. Passengers to pay as usual.

Performed, if God permits, by

Your dutiful servant,

HOSEA EASTGATE.

The year 1757 saw another ' flying machine on steel
springs ' established by the merchants of Liverpool after
the example of the Manchester ' Flying Coach.' It was
designed to beat, and did beat, the Manchester coach in
point of speed, three days only being allowed from Liver-
pool to London. Sheffield and Leeds followed with
their respective fly coaches ; and by 1 784 these vehicles
had become quite common and did their eight miles an
hour.

HER MAJESTY'S STATE COACH. 15

CHAPTER IV.

HER MAJESTY'S STATE COACH. NAPOLEON'S CHARIOT.

What the art of the coach-builder could achieve when
stimulated to its highest efforts by the ambition of pleas-
ing royalty, is illustrated by the following description of
Her Majesty's state coach. It was built for King George
III., and was finished in the year 1761, being the most
superb carriage ever built. It was designed by Sir William
Chambers, and was executed under his direction. The
paintings were executed by Cipriani. The front panel,
Britannia seated on a throne, holding in her hand a
staff of Liberty, attended by Religion, Justice, Wisdom,
Valour, Fortitude, Commerce, Plenty, and Victory, pre-
senting her with a garland of laurels ; in the background
a view of St. Paul's and the river Thames. The right
door, Industry and Ingenuity giving a cornucopia to the
Genius of England. The panels on each side of the
right door, History, recording the reports of Fame, and
Peace, burning the implements of war. The back panel,
Neptune and Amphitrite issuing from their palace in a
triumphant car, drawn by sea-horses attended by the
Winds, Rivers, Tritons, Naiads, &c, bringing the tribute
of the world to the British shore. Upper part of back

1 6 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

panel is the Royal Arms, beautifully ornamented with
the Order of St. George, the rose, shamrock and thistle
entwined. The left door, Mars, Minerva and Mercury
supporting the Imperial Crown of Great Britain. The
panels on each side of left door, the Liberal Arts and
Sciences protected. The front and four quarter panels
over the paintings are plate glass. The whole of the
carriage and body is richly ornamented with laurel and
carved work, beautifully gilt. The length twenty-four
feet, width eight feet three inches, height twelve feet,
length of pole twelve feet four inches, weight four tons.
The carriage and body of the coach is composed as
follows : — Of four large Tritons which support the body
by four braces covered with red moroco leather, and orna-
mented with gilt buckles. The two figures placed in
front of the carriage bear the driver, and are represented
in the action of drawing, by cables extending round their
shoulders, and the cranes and sounding shells to an-
nounce the approach of the Monarch of the Ocean ; and
those at the back carry the imperial fasces topped with
tridents. The driver's foot-board is a large scallop shell,
ornamented with bunches of reeds and other marine
plants. The pole represents a bundle of lances ; the
splinter bar is composed of a rich moulding issuing from
beneath a voluted shell, each end terminating in the head
of a dolphin ; and the wheels are imitated from those of
the ancient triumphal chariot. The body of the coach
is composed of eight palm trees, which branching out at
the top, sustain the roof ; and the four trees at the angles
are loaded with trophies, alluding to the victories obtained

HER MAJESTY'S STATE COACH. 17

by Great Britain during the late glorious war, supported
by four lions' heads. On the centre of the roof stand
three boys representing the Genii of England, Scotland,
and Ireland, supporting the Imperial Crown of Great
Britain ; and holding in their hands the sceptre, sword
of state, and ensigns of knighthood ; their bodies are
adorned with festoons of laurels which fall from thence
towards the four corners. The inside of the body is lined
with rich scarlet embossed velvet, superbly laced and
embroidered with gold as follows : In the centre of the
roof is the star encircled by the collar of the Order of
the Garter, and surmounted by the Imperial Crown of
Great Britain ; pendant, the George and Dragon ; in the
corners, the rose, shamrock and thistle entwined. The
hind lounge is ornamented with the badge of the Order
of St. Michael and St. George ; and on the front the
badge of the Guelph and Bath ornamented with the rose,
shamrock and thistle. The hind seat fall has the badge
of St. Andrew, and on the front, the badge of St. Patrick,
adorned with the rose, shamrock, thistle, and oak leaf.
The hammer-cloth is of the same costly materials. The
harness, for eight horses, is made of red moroco leather,
and decorated with blue ribbons, the Royal Arms and
other ornaments richly gilt.

The following was the ' little bill ' for the same : —

Coachmaker
Carver
Gilder
Painter

£

j-.

d.

i£37

15

O

2,500

0

0

935

H

O

315

0

O

i8

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

1

s.

</.

737

10

7

665

4

6

385

15

0

202

5

10A

99

6

6

3i

3

4

10

16

6

4

0

0

6

3

9

6

Laceman .
Chaser

Harness-maker
Mercer
Beltmaker.
Milliner .
Saddler

Woollen Draper
Cover maker

7,562 4 3i

This coach is still used when Her Majesty goes in
state, and is drawn by eight cream-coloured horses. It is
kept in the Royal Mews, Pimlico.

As a good pendant to the above description of Her
Majesty's state coach, I give the following account of
Buonaparte's travelling chariot. Though rather off the
coaching road, it may furnish hints to those who wish to
have a ' convenient ' carriage. The chariot was taken
at Waterloo, and was presented to the Prince Regent,
by whom it was afterwards sold to Mr. Bullock for
2,500/. It eventually found its way to Madame Tus-
saud's Waxwork Exhibition, where it may still be seen.

This very curious and convenient chariot of the first
Emperor was built by Symons of Brussels for the
Russian campaign, and is adapted for the various
purposes of a pantry and a kitchen ; for it has places for
holding and preparing refreshments, which by the aid of
a lamp could be heated in the carriage. It served also
for a bedroom, a dressing-room, an office, &c. The seat
is divided into two by a partition about six inches high.

NAPOLEON'S CHARIOT. 19

The exterior of this ingenious vehicle is of the form and
dimensions of our large English travelling chariot, except
that it has a projection in front of about two feet, the
right-hand half of which is open to the inside to receive
the feet, thus forming a bed, while the left-hand half
contained a store of various useful things.

Beyond the projection in front, and nearer to the
horses, was the seat for the coachman, ingeniously con-
trived so as to prevent the driver from viewing the
interior of the carriage, and yet so placed as to afford
those within a clear sight of the horses and of the sur-
rounding country. Beneath this seat is a receptacle for
a box about two and a half feet in length and four inches
deep, containing a bedstead of polished steel, which
could be fitted up in a couple of minutes.

Over the front windows is a roller blind of strong
painted canvas, which when pulled out excluded rain
while it admitted air. (This might be an advantageous
appendage to all carriages.)

On the ceiling of the carriage is a network for carry-
ing small travelling requisites. In a recess there was a
secretaire, ten inches by eighteen, which contained nearly
a hundred articles presented to Napoleon I. by Maria
Louisa, under whose care it was fitted up with every
luxury and convenience that could be imagined. It
contained besides the usual requisites for a dressing
box, most of which were of solid gold — a magnificent
breakfast service with plates, candlesticks, knives, forks,
spoons, a spirit lamp for making breakfast in the carriage,
gold case for Napoleon's gold wash-hand basin, a number

c 2

20 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

of essence bottles, perfumes, and an almost infinite
variety of minute articles down to pins, needles, thread,
and silk. Each of these articles was fitted into re-
cesses most ingeniously contrived, and made in the solid
wood, in which they were packed close together, and
many one within the other, in such a narrow space that
on seeing them arranged it appeared impossible for
them ever to be put into so small a compass. At the
bottom of this toilet box, in divided recesses, were found
2,000 gold napoleons ; on the top of it were writing
materials, a looking-glass, combs, &c, a liqueur case which
had two bottles, one of Malaga wine, the other of rum,
a silver sandwich box containing a plate, knives, spoons,
pepper and salt boxes, mustard pot, decanter, glasses,
&c. ; a wardrobe, writing desk, maps, telescopes, arms,
&c, a large silver chronometer, by which the watches of
the army were regulated, two merino mattresses, a green
velvet travelling cap, also a diamond head-dress (tiara),
hat, sword, uniform, and an Imperial mantle, &c.

ROADS AND RATE OF SPEED. 21

CHAPTER V.

ROADS AND RATE OF SPEED.

In illustration of the usual speed of travelling in 1766,
Lord Eldon states that when he left school in that
year to go to Oxford, he came up from Newcastle to
London in a coach which was called ' a fly,'1 on account
of its quick travelling, as it was then thought, but he
was three or four days and nights upon the road. There
was no such velocity as to endanger overturning or
other mischief ; and as a sort of apology for its pace
there was printed on the panel of the carriage the phrase
Sat cito, si sat bene. The impression made by this
sentence upon the mind of the embryo chancellor was
heightened by a circumstance which occurred upon the
journey. A Quaker fellow-traveller called the chamber-
maid to the coach door and gave her sixpence, telling

1 The continued application of the term ' fly ' to coaches may have been
suggested by the following circumstances : In i8c8 a Brighton carpenter,
employed at the Pavilion Stables, injured himself, and on his recovery he
made a seat on wheels to be drawn about on. The Prince Regent, seeing it,
ordered one like it, and this was used by him and his friends in their larks
at night. They named it jocosely a fly-by-night. When the carpenter sent
the pattern to London with an order for more, the coachbuilder made one
for a horse to draw. To this also the designation of a fly was given.

22 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

her that he forgot to give it to her when he slept there
two years before. Young Scott, who was not character-
ised by overmuch bashfulness, said to him : ' Friend,
have you seen the motto on this coach?' 'No!'
' Then look at it, for I think giving her only sixpence
now is neither sat cito, nor sat bene'

The state of the roads and of the means of com-
munication are forcibly and graphically, if not elegantly,
depicted by Arthur Young, who travelled in Lancashire
about the year 1770. 'I know not,' he says, 'in the
whole range of language, terms sufficiently expressive to
describe this infernal road. Let me most seriously
caution all travellers who may accidentally propose to
travel this terrible country to avoid it as they would
the devil, for a thousand to one they break their necks
or their limbs by overthrows or breakings-down. They
will here meet with ruts, which I actually measured, four
feet deep, and floating with mud, only from a wet
summer, what therefore must it be after a winter ? The
only mending it receives is tumbling in some loose
stones, which serves no other purpose than jolting a
carriage in the most intolerable manner. These are not
merely opinions but facts, for I actually passed three
carts broken down in these eighteen miles of execrable
memory.' Subsequently, in speaking of a turnpike road
near Warrington, he says, ' This is a paved road most
infamously bad. Any person would imagine the people
of the country had made it with a view to immediate
destruction, for the breadth is only sufficient for one
carriage, consequently it is cut at once with ruts, and you

ROADS AND RATE OF SPEED. 23

may easily conceive what a breakdown, dislocating road,
with ruts cut through a pavement must be.' Such was
the style of travelling in Britain about a century ago
from the time we write. Truly may we say, ' Tempora
mutantur et nos mutamur in illis.' Mr. Crossel's denun-
ciations of stage coaches in 1662 met with no more
respect than the tirade against the introduction of rail-
ways in our own times. From a newspaper of the year
1 779, we learn that regular post coaches, as they are
called, had begun to run, or we might say creep, from
London to Scotland. We find the advertisement on
the next page in the newspaper in question.

When we consider that these coaches had no springs
we cannot wonder at the journey being ' very tiring.'

Carriages at this period were built and made use of
under strange conditions. In illustration I may mention
the fact that my great-grandfather, who resided in
Somersetshire, wishing to have a coach built in London,
was obliged to send the coachbuilder the measurement
between the ruts of his roads, that he might have his
wheels arranged to run in them. This was the first
carriage seen in his part of the world.

King George III. presented a state coach to the
Emperor of China, and on its receipt much discussion
took place at the Chinese court — a wheeled conveyance
never having been seen there before — as to which part
should be the seat of honour. The Emperor, after
mature deliberation, chose the hammer-cloth for his seat,
as being the place, he said, nearest to the moon — there
could be no doubt about it. The driver, therefore, was

2 +

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

put inside, and the reins were passed through the
window !

EXPEDITIOUS TRAVELLING

FROM

LONDON TO GLAS&OW AND PORTPATRICK,

IN FOUR DAYS,
BY WAY OF CARLISLE AND DUMFRIES.

ANEW POST COACH sets out from the
' Cross Keys,' Wood Street, London, every evening
(Saturday excepted), and arrives at Beck's Coffee House,
Carlisle, in three days ; also sets out from Beck's Coffee
House, Carlisle, on the same evening, and arrives in three
days at the ' CROSS Keys,' London. To accommodate pas-
sengers travelling northward and to Ireland A NEW POST
COACH, which connects with the above, sets out from ' King's
Arms Hotel,' Carlisle, every Tuesday and Thursday morn-
ing at six o'clock for DUMFRIES; upon arrival of which at
the 'George Inn,' a DILIGENCE sets out for GLASGOW
and another for PORTPATRICK. Also a DILIGENCE
sets out from Mr. Buchanan's, the 'Saracen's Head,'
Glasgow, and another from Mr. Campbell's, Portpatrick,
every Tuesday and Thursday morning at four o'clock, to join
the said DUMFRIES AND CARLISLE POST COACH,
in which seats will be reserved for those travelling southward.

Each inside passenger from Carlisle to Glasgow or Portpatrick to
pay^i i6j. 6d., and to be allowed ten pounds weight of luggage ; all
above to pay 2d. per lb. Children on the lap to pay half-price. In-
sides from Carlisle to Dumfries to pay I is. 8d. ; outsides, 6s. 8d. Small
parcels from Carlisle to Portpatrick or Glasgow to pay is. 6d. each ;
all upwards of nine pounds to pay 2d. per pound Passengers taken
up on the road to pay 4.1/. per mile in both the Coach and Diligence;
and for outsides on the Coach 2\d. per mile. Insides from London to
Glasgow, ^3 6s. Ditto from Carlisle to Glasgow or Portpatrick,
£l 16s. 6d. Total : London to Glasgow or Portpatrick, ^"5 2s. 6d.

JOHN PALMER AND THE MAIL COACH SYSTEM. 25

CHAPTER VI.

JOHN PALMER AND THE MAIL COACH SYSTEM.

One of the most memorable events to be recorded in
the Annals of the Road is the introduction of the mail
coach system, for which the country was indebted to the
late John Palmer, M.P. for Bath. It superseded Mr.
Allen's system of post-boys, whose travelling rate was
by contract five miles an hour. The mails used to be
generally entrusted, says Mr. Palmer, to some idle boy
without character, who was mounted on a worn-out
hack, and who so far from being able to defend himself
or to escape from a robber, was more likely to be in
leaeue with him.

Mr. Palmer was aware that sometimes tradesmen
sent letters by the stage coach on account of the frequent
robberies of the letters sent by the post-boys. ' Why,
therefore,' said he, ' should not the stage coach, well
protected by armed guards, under certain conditions to
be specified, carry the mail bags ? ' This substitution of
a stringf of mail coaches for the ' worn-out hacks ' was
the leading feature of his plan. His proposals also in-
cluded the timing of the mails at each successive stage,
so that they might all as far as possible be delivered

26 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

simultaneously. Again, he proposed that, instead of
leaving London at all hours of the night, all the coaches
for the different roads should start from the General
Post Office at the same time. Thus was established a
practice which long afforded to the stranger in London
one of the first of City sights.

Mr. Palmer's mail coaches were not put on the road
without great opposition and many objections on the
part of the gentlemen of the Post Orifice. Notwithstand-
ing his stipulation that mail guards should accompany
them well armed, ' Still,' said the opposition, ' there are
no means of effectually preventing robbery, as the strong-
est cart or coach that could be made, lined and bound
with iron, might easily be broken into by determined
robbers.'

The first mail coach on Palmer's system began
running on August 8, ] 784. The following order autho-
rising this trial of the mail coach plan was issued on
July 24 of that year : 'His Majesty's Postmasters-
General, being inclined to make an experiment for the
more expeditious conveyance of mails of letters by stage
coaches, machines, &c, have been pleased to order that
a trial shall be made upon the road between London
and Bristol, to commence at each place on Monday the
2nd August next.' It did not, however, begin until the
8th. One coach left London at eight in the morning,
reaching Bristol about eleven the same night. The
distance between London and Bath was accomplished in
fourteen hours. The other coach was started from
Bristol at four in the afternoon on the same day. reach-

JOHN PALMER AND THE MAIL COACH SYSTEM. 27

ing London in sixteen hours. The same day Mr.
Palmer was installed at the Post Office under the title of
Controller General. Coaches were applied for without
loss of time by the municipal authorities of many of our
largest towns, Liverpool being the first among them to
petition. In most cases they appear to have been
granted at once. They were started at the rate of six
miles an hour, but this official rate of speed was subse-
quently increased to eight, to nine, and at length to ten
miles an hour.

Soon after the introduction of the mail coaches, public
appreciation of the benefits derived from them and of the
great importance of the change was marked by the pro-
duction of a copper medal, called the ' mail coach half-
penny.' On one side it bore a representation of the
coach and its team of horses at full speed, with the legend
— ' To trade expedition and to property protection ' ; and
on the reverse side a dedication as follows : — ' To J.
Palmer, Esq. This is inscribed as a token of gratitude
for benefits received from the establishment of mail
coaches.'

The mails under the new system travelled with great
security. For many years after their introduction, not a
single attempt was made in England to rob them. In
Ireland, however, the new system did not conduce to the
greater security of the mails. The first coach was intro-
duced in that country in 1790, and was placed on the
Cork and Belfast road ; and was soon followed by others
on the main lines of road. Though occasionally accom-
panied by as many as four armed guards the mail coaches

28 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

in Ireland were robbed as frequently as the less aspiring
post-boys.

The eminent services rendered by Mr. Macadam and
his three sons in perfecting the roads contributed greatly
to the successful working of the mail coach system. The
Postmaster-General, the Secretary of the Post-Office,
and the Superintendent of Mail Coaches, testified ' to the
direct advantage and great benefit,' that the post-office
work received from the good roads which were the result
of their united labours.1 Such a tiling as an unmac-
adamised road is rarely seen now. The inventor has been
playfully designated the ' Colossus of Rhodes ' ! Among
the great and obvious advantages for which the country
is indebted to Macadam, are, acceleraticn in the speed of
coaches, and the possibility of their keeping time.

Early in the present century it was deemed desirable
that all the mail coaches should be both built and fur-
nished on one plan. Hence the ' patent coaches ' as they
were then called. For many years, the contract for build-
ing and repairing a sufficient number of them was given
to Mr. John Yidler, who had suggested many improve-
ments in their construction. Although the post-office
authorities arranged for the building of the coaches, the
mail contractors were required to pay for them ; the
revenue bearing only the charges of cleaning, oiling, and
greasing them, which amounted to about 2,200/. a year.
The official control of the coaches, mail-guards, &c, was

1 See ' Remarks on the Present System of Road-making,' by John
Loudon Macadam (London, 1824).

JOHN PALMER AND THE MAIL COACH SYSTEM. 29

vested in the Superintendent of Mail Coaches, whose
head-quarters were at the General Post Office.

In recognition of Mr. Palmer's exertions to improve
the postal communication throughout Great Britain by
means of his mail coach system, he was presented with a
magnificent silver cup by the Chamber of Commerce and
the manufacturers of Glasgow.1

1 This cup was presented in the summer of 1875 to the mayor and
corporation of Bath by Mr. Palmer's granddaughter, in memory of her
grandfather, who represented Bath in Parliament for many years, and was
also chief magistrate and a native of the city.

3o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER VII.

REGULATIONS.

Some notice of the details of the working of the new
system, of the position, duties and pay of the guards and
coachmen, of the furnishing of the coaches, rules of the
road, &c, will be interesting to my readers. To these
matters I address myself in this chapter.

The guards of the mails received only \os. a week
from Government ; but their perquisites sometimes
mounted up to 3/. or 4/. a week when they were at work,
and 1 2s. 6d. when not at work. Bankers entrusted
thousands of pounds to their care ; and they often had the
charge of plate-chests, jewellery, &c. For these respon-
sibilities they were highly paid. They were armed with
a blunderbuss l and a pair of pistols, which were placed
in a kind of sword case fixed at the back of the coach in

1 This was a short gun, having a brass barrel, bell-shaped towards the
muzzle. It did not carry very true, as will appear from the following story,
told me by Nevill, the old Carlisle mail guard, now employed in the General
Post Office : ' Going over Salisbury Plain one severe winter's day, the snow
lying deep, I saw some grouse near the road tamed by the weather. I took
my blunderbuss, got down, and had a shot at them. They were about forty
yards off; but though I pride myself on being a good shot generally, I could
not with my piece — loaded as it was with swan shot — get a true line, as the
shot hit the ground ioo yards off, flying all over the place.'

REGULATIONS. 31

front of their seat. They obtained their appointments on
the recommendation of an M.P. They were required to
bear a high character, to bring a certificate of health from
a doctor, and before getting to work, had to be in the
mail coach factory, that they might learn how to repair
on a journey, how to rig on a temporary tire, to make
up a broken pole, &C.1 The coachman was under the
orders of the guard ; and the latter was furnished with a
time-piece2 by government, and wore the royal livery.
Guards were bound to report on the state of the roads,
and in case of any neglect the commissioners were sum-
moned by them before the magistrates.

Should a toll-gate happen to be closed at the time of
the passing of the mail, on the evidence of the guard, the
keeper would be fined 40-?. On the roof of the coach
behind, exactly in front of the guard's seat, rested the
guard's tool box, which contained —

Three pole bars, one twenty inches long, and two four-
teen inches long.

At the bottom of the box,

Bolts and nuts for ditto,

Screw-wrench.

Two gimlets or nail passers, one large, called a
spike passer, and one small.

Spring shackles and their bolts.

1 See Instructions for the Mail Guards, Appendix B.

2 This time-piece was fixed in a flat, square brass case. It was set, and
the case locked, in London, and the guard wore it in a pouch suspended from
his shoulder. It is related of one well-known waggoner, Mr. Ackers, that he
was a martinet in time-keeping, and regularly carried a watch screwed into
the butt end of his whip.

32 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Axle-bolts.

Felloe clips.

Two small spoke ditto.

One saw, the length of the box, and fastened to the
lid.
On the front of this box were hooks to hane the mail
bags on, ' bye ' bags, as they were called, that were
to be dropped on the road. These bags were of
leather, bearing the place of their destination engraved
on brass plates. Latterly, when the mails were allowed
to carry three passengers on the seat behind the coach-
man, besides one on the box and three in front of the
guard,1 it became necessary to do away with the tool box
a'top, and the tools had to be carried elsewhere. The
blunderbuss case also had to be placed as a footboard, on
the top of the mail box (called in stage coaches the hind
boot). This mail box opened at the top, and at the
back, and the lock of the box was thus at the feet of the
guard. In case this lock was ever missing from its place,
the dismissal of the guard was certain. A light was
carried by the guard to enable him to sort the mail
bags, separating ' bye ' from ' forward.' One guard that I
know carried his light under his seat, so that on opening
his mail box he could see what he was at. Some of the
mails carried two lamps on either side. The second lamp
was sometimes carried at the side of the box-seat panels,
but more frequently through the lower step irons of the
boot. The round-faced Argand reflecting lamp,2 with a

1 The Yarmouth mail carried eight outsiders itwasa bad road for themails.

2 Now so generally in use with the three pipe-light wicks.

REGULA TIONS. 33

round wick, was first brought out by the guard of the
Bath mail, Macintyre, now (1875) engaged on the
Brighton and London stage coach. The lamp previously
in general use had three pipe-like wicks, which were
square-fronted.

One thing to remember is, that when in a fog, your
lamps, however good, are useless to you ; for so long as
your light is ahead, you will not even see your wheelers'
terrets ; turn your lamp sideways, this will show you that
you are in your road. In case of a fog the mails were
always accompanied through London by men with
torches. All the mails but two were night mails ; and
the two day mails, of which Brighton was one, were pair-
horse coaches.

' Did you ever hear tell of J n B 1, sir ?' said a

guard to me one day. I replied that I had heard of

J n B 1, but never met him in the flesh. All

Englishmen and Frenchmen too, for the matter of that,

knew of J n B 1 ! ' Well,' said my friend, ' he

was a mail guard as I was, and a pretty mess he once
made of his mails. Put on the Stroud mail one day, he
got his orders to take care of them, and not to give them
up to anyone. Blest if he didn't go and take the whole
lot, including all he picked up on the road, to Stroud and
never exchanged a single bag ! When he arrived at his
destination he did get a blowing up for not dropping the
bags at the proper places ; but all he said was, " I was
told not to give up a single bag, and to take every care
that no one took them from me, and I have done so."
Well, he repeated the game on his up journey, never ex-

D

34 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

chanofinor a single bag", and the end of it was that he crot the
sack ! This was not all though ; for usinQ- his interest,
he was actually appointed, very shortly afterwards an

inspector of mail guards. Thus this out-and-out J n

B— — 1, who was not thought fit to be a mail guard, was
made to look after other mail guards.'

The leather mail bags, since changed for canvas bags,
date from 1603. They were 'well lined with baize or
cotton so as not to injure the letters.'

It may not be generally known that the Queen is the
only person who can have a mail bag opened after it has
once been closed, the mails being as they are styled,
' Her Majesty's mails.'

So long as the mails were carried by post-boys, it
rested with the different post-masters to furnish these
post-boys or couriers with ' horns to sound and blow, as
oft as the post meets company, or at least four times in
every mile.' Thus arose a custom which, under modified
arrangements, was strictly observed on mail coaches.
The order to the guards of mails was that they were to
blow their horns 250 yards before they came to a gate;
and the penalty for infringement of this order was 40-5".
The coach-horn, ' the three feet of tin,' was placed in a
loop on the offside of the coach.

In 1836 there were fifty four-horse mails in England,
thirty in Ireland, and ten in Scotland. In England there
were besides forty-nine two-horse mails. In the last year
of mail coaches, the number which left London every
night punctually at eight o'clock was twenty-seven ; and

REGULATIONS. 35

these travelled in the aggregate about 5,500 miles before
they reached their several destinations.

The mail coaches were all miled at a usual charge of
i\d. a mile, and were horsed by contract.

The weight of these mails should be 18 cwt. Their
fore wheels were 3 ft. 4 in., and their hind wheels 4 ft.
8 in. in diameter.1

All carriages carrying mails or expresses were ex-
empted by Act of Parliament from paying any tolls ; and
should any demand be made on any such mail coach by
any collector of tolls, or should any toll-keeper obstruct
or delay the mail at his turnpike gate, or bar or gate of a
walled town, he was to forfeit five pounds for every such
offence. The punishment for stopping a mail with intent
to rob was transportation for life.

Should the guard of the mail allow anyone to ride in
the place appointed for himself, or should he be guilty of
any misconduct on a mail coach, or not use his diligence
to keep the time, according to the regulations of the Post
Office he would be lined twenty pounds on conviction.

The carriage of letters by any but mail coaches or
carriages was prohibited.

1 A loaded coach (stage) never exceeds three tons. The average weight
of twelve passengers and their luggage would be one ton.

D 2

36 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER VIII.

FURTHER REGULATIONS. DE QUINCY ON COACHING,

The dignity of the General Post Office at St. Martin's-le-
Grand is carefully guarded by various provisions. There
no hackney carriage may stand or ply for hire. No
hawker, newsvendor, or idle or disorderly person may
stop or loiter on the flagway or pavement ; if they do so,
they forfeit for every such offence five pounds.

In 1844, the proprietor of a coach agreed to pay 200/.
a-year to the Post Office for the privilege of carrying the
mails from Lancaster to Carlisle twice a day, rather than
be obliged to ' take off his bars.' In case heavy mails
were expected, the General Post Office would secure the
two seats behind the box seat, and the guard would make
use of the room for his bags. More than six trunks or
carpet bags no guard was allowed to take on the roof.
This reminds me of a story told me by Mr. Nevill above-
mentioned. Our friend J n B 1, giving his instruc-
tions to a young guard going down to Bristol on the mail,
said ' You'll only take portmanteaus, i.e. those things
covered with leather or hair.' On his return journey Mr.

J n B 1 being there to see (then Inspector of Mail

Guards he was), what was seen but a big black dog a top !

FURTHER REGULATIONS. y,

Mr. B 1 enquired what he could be at to bring a dog on

the top of the mail against his order, and right through
London too, and up to the very Post Office doors ; and he
added, 'Suspend you for a week, sir.' The guard replied,
' You told me, sir, I was only to take anything covered
with leather or hair, and this ere's covered with hair.'
He was let off his punishment.

There was no duty imposed on mail coachmen or
guards as there was on the drivers and guards of the
stage coaches. On these the duty is i/. $s. per annum.
There is a stage coach duty of \d. a mile for four persons,
\d. a mile for twenty-one persons.

' It was the mail coach,' says De Quincy, ' that dis-
tributed over the face of the land, like the opening of
apocalyptic vials, the heart-shaking news of Trafalgar,
of Salamanca, of Vittoria, of Waterloo.'1 Dressed in
laurels and flowers, oak leaves and ribbons, these coaches
took down into the country the first news of any of the
numerous victories achieved by English valour on the
Continent ; the laurels, the emblem of victory, told the
well-known tale throughout the whole course. The great
disadvantages of not living near a mail coach road must
have been felt at some time at a certain little village in
Lancashire, which we are told the news of the battle of
Waterloo never reached until near the first anniversary of
that memorable fight, when the church bells rang out re-
joicing peals. ' The grandest chapter in our experience,'
says one who was a systematic coach traveller between

1 <

Selections, Grave and Gay.'

38 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

1805 and 1 81 5 (a memorable period for the English
arms) ' was on those occasions when we went down from
London with the news of victory.'

Daily each part of every coach was very critically
inspected by a regular inspector ; every morning they
were thoroughly cleaned ; every morning the horses were
groomed up to a degree of perfection not usually at-
tained ; and altogether the sight was one which no one
seeing could ever forget. Thus, in De Ouincy's words :
' The absolute perfection of all the appointments about
the carriage and the harness, their strength, their brilliant
cleanliness, their beautiful simplicity, but, more than all,
the royal magnificence of the horses, were what first
fixed the attention.'1

Before 1834, in England only three passengers were
allowed by Act of Parliament outside the mails : one on
the box seat, and two on the roof immediately behind
the box. None were allowed near the guard behind ;
this was by way of precaution against robbers. The
load on the roof was also regulated by Act of Parlia-
ment. Beyond the Scottish Border, however, four
passengers were allowed outside, one on the box seat,
and three immediately behind it. The guard's dress
was, of right, the Royal livery; the coachman would
obtain the same honorary distinction after long service.
The colour of the mails was crimson (the royal colour) ;
the under carriage, box seat, and footboard were painted
red ; they bore on their door panels the royal arms only.

1 ' Selections, Grave and Gay.'

DE QUINCY ON COACHING. 39

On the four upper panels were the orders of : off side,
fore, the Bath, hind, St. Patrick ; near side, fore,
Thistle, hind, Garter. Before the year 1829, from
8 p.m. to twenty minutes later, the mails paraded not in
St. Martin's-le-Grand,1 but in Lombard Street, then the
site of the General Post Office, and they filled the street
double file. The coaches were summoned up to the
Post Office by their names, — Lincoln, Winchester,
Portsmouth, Gloucester, Oxford, Bristol, Manchester,
York, Newcastle, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Perth, Stirling,
and Aberdeen. The thunder of the lid locked down
upon the mails was the signal for each one to depart.

1 The present building in St. Martin's-le-Grand was opened on September
25, 1829.

4o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER IX.

PROCESSION OF MAILS ON THE KING'S BIRTHDAY.

The great clay of the year for the mails was the King's
birthday, when a goodly procession of four-in-hands
started from the great coach manufactory of Mr. John
Vidler, in the neighbourhood of Millbank, and wended
its way to St. Martin's-le-Grand. Splendid in fresh
paint and varnish, gold lettering and royal arms, they
were the perfection of neatness and practical utility in
build, horsed to perfection, and leathered to match.
They were driven by coachmen who, as well as the
guards behind, were arrayed in spic-and-span new scarlet
and gold. No delicate bouquets, but mighty nosegays
of the size of a cabbage adorned the breasts of these
portly mail coachmen and guards, while bunches of
cabbage roses decorated the heads of the proud steeds.
In the cramped interior of the vehicles were closely
packed buxom dames and blooming lasses, the wives,
daughters, or sweethearts of the coachmen or guards,
the fair passengers arrayed in coal-scuttle bonnets and
in canary-coloured or scarlet silks. On this great occa-
sion the gaiard Was allowed two seats and the coachman
two, no one allowed on the roof. But the great feature

PROCESSION OF MAILS ON THE KING'S BIRTHDAY. 41

after all was that stirring note so clearly blown and well
drawn out, and every now and again sounded by the
guards, and alternated with such airs as ' The days when
we went gipsying,' capitally played upon a key bugle.
Should a mail come late, the tune from a passing one
would be ' Oh dear ! what can the matter be ? ' This
key bugle was no part of the mail equipment, but was,
nevertheless, frequently used.

Heading the procession was the oldest established
mail, which would be the Bristol. On the King's birth-
day, 1834, there were twenty-seven coaches in the pro-
cession. They all wore hammer-cloths, and both guard
and coachman were in new red liveries, the latter being
furnished by the mail contractor. They wore beaver
hats with gold lace and cockades. Such a thing as a
low billycock hat was not to be seen on any coach, or
anywhere. Sherman's mails were drawn by black horses,
and on these occasions their harness was of red morocco.

The coaches were new each year. In these days
brass mountings were rarely known, plated or silver only
were in use. On the starting of the procession the bells
of the neighbouring churches rang out merrily, continuing
their rejoicing peals till it arrived at the General Post
Office. Many country squires, who were always anxious
that their best horses should have a few turns in the
mail coaches in travelling, sent up their horses to figure
in the procession.

From Millbank the procession passed by St. James's
Palace, at the windows of which, above the porch, stood
Kins William and his Oueen. The Duke of Richmond

42 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

(then Postmaster-General) and the Duke of Wellington
stood there also. Each coach as it passed saluted the
King, the coachman and guard standing up and taking
off their hats. The appearance of the smart coaches
emblazoned with the royal arms, orders, &c, coach-
man and guard got up to every advantage, with their
nosegays stuck in their brand-new scarlet liveries, was at
this point strikingly grand. The Inspectors of mail
coaches rode in front of the procession on horseback.

USE OF THE KEY BUGLE.

43

CHAPTER X.

USE OF THE KEY-BUGLE.

The fact of the occasional use of the key- bugle on mail
coaches has been questioned, and curiously conflicting
evidence on the subject was given in a series of contro-
versial letters which appeared in ' The Field ' in the
summer of 1873. In the first of these letters, ' Ex-Mail-
Coachman,' then in his eighty- first year, positively asserts
that ' no bugle was allowed on the mails ; the only in-
strument used was the long, straight horn, blown by
the guard only when occasion required it/ In the next
letter, signed ' E. L. L.' regret is expressed ' at the
gradual supplanting of the fine old key-bugle by the
cornopean. The old order changeth,' he says, 'yielding
place to new in most things, and in not a few I think we
must confess " the old is better." E. L. L. remembered
first hearing the key-bugle in his boyhood, 'when
travelling up to Eton from the lower part of Devon-
shire three times in each year,' and he states that there
were then many good performers on the road, and that
among them Jack Goodwin was his especial favourite.
The use of the key-bugle is positively asserted in an
interesting letter signed ' John Page, Manchester.' His
statement is as follows : —

44 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

' Sir, — I am old enough to remember the cheery
sounds of the key bugle as played upon some of our
crack coaches of forty years ago, and, like " Deadfall,"
much regret that those sounds have died away. How
Prettyman, guard of one of the Manchester coaches, used
to wake the echoes in some of the sleepy agricultural
villages we passed through in those days ! Brandt, also,
on the Leicester " Union," was an accomplished player,
and could bring many to the windows and doors of their
houses by the sweet music of his bugle. Brandt was
also a scholar, and as great a favourite with gentlemen
going down to the head-quarters of the hunt as he was
with the pretty lasses of Dunstable. There was also a
fine bugler on one of the Birmingham coaches, the
" Tally-ho," I think, and another on a Nottingham coach,
which, if my memory is not at fault, was called the
" Highflyer." The Brighton coaches also had some good
players in the days of Mr. Stevenson, Mr. Jones, and
Sir Vincent Cotton. I think it probable that an " Ex-
Mail-Coachman " may be correct in stating that bugles
were not allowed on mail coaches, and L. R. P. may be
right also in saying that he has heard the bugle played
on the Holyhead mail. I have seen hundreds of mails
depart from St. Martin's-le-Grand when old Sherman
kept the " Bull and Mouth," with its great coach yard and
wonderful stables, but I cannot call to mind any instru-
ment being played upon them except the straight mail
horn. Yet I knew one guard who had a bugle snugly
stowed away, and brought out to the delight of the
people who lived clear away from the smoke. One of

USE OF THE KEY BUGLE. 45

the guards alluded to could imitate the voices of different
animals, and I have seen the large " Spanish Jack," then
in the possession of the Duke of Bedford at Woburn,
gallop after the coach to find he had been made an ass
of, the lad on his back going to post grinning from ear
to ear, and the whole thing affording much fun to the
genus Joskin as well as the passengers. I could con-
siderably extend these reminiscences — to me the theme
is a genial one — but I must pull up. There have been
changes since those days. How many of the smart
whips, then in their prime, have taken the box for the
last time on their down journey !

' And the grass grows as green on the graves of most
of these buglers as it does in front of some of the old
wayside and now deserted hostelries they knew so well.

' John Page.

' Manchester.'

' J. S.,' another correspondent, remembered hearing
the key-bugle played by the guard on the mail coach
between Portpatrick and Ayr, and also on the mail
between Limerick and Tralee. ' L. R. P.' puts on
record his boyish recollections of a guard on the royal
mail from Holyhead to London playing on a key-bugle
when passing his father's house on the outskirts of
Chester. He especially calls to mind that on Sunday
evening the guard did honour to the day by ' treating us
to the " Old Hundredth," and well he played it too.' He
adds the testimony of his mother, eighty years of age,
and in full possession of her faculties, who remembered

46 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

quite well that when she lived at Kegworth, in Leicester-
shire, ' the guard of the mail used to enliven the village
by playing airs as the mail passed through.' This letter
called forth a second from ' Ex-Mail-Coachman,' in which
he disavows any wish to doubt the statement of L. R. P.
as to having heard the bugle played by the guard of the
Holyhead Mail, but he adheres to his former assertion
that ' the bugle was no part of the mail. The tin horn,'
he says, ' was there, whether for the purpose of raising
up the old pikeman in the dead of night to have his gate
open, to warn the next change, or to let the market
gardener who was fast asleep on the shafts of his cart
know that the whole of the road was not his perquisite,
and also to inform him that Her Majesty's mail, half an
hour late, and going at twelve miles an hour, was close
behind him. Let L. R. P. look at the mail pictures
painted by Henderson, so correct in every detail, from
the check rein on the raking leader to the drab overalls
of the guard, and tell me if he can find the slightest trace
of a bugle.' It is then pointed out by the writer of the
original communication to ' The Field,' which gave rise
to the correspondence, that he spoke of the use of key-
bugles on a special occasion, namely that of the procession
of mail coaches from Millbank, Westminster, to the
General Post Office. He adds that he remembers seeing
when a boy, in the shop of a musical instrument maker
in Westminster, on more than one occasion, a lot of key-
bugles laid out ready for the use of the mail guards on
the occurrence of the annual procession. He admits
' that the mail regulations limited the guards to the post-

USE OF THE KEY BUGLE. 47

horn only,' but very much doubts whether the rule was
rigidly enforced. ' Deadfall ' next takes part in the dis-
cussion, but only to indulge in an old man's pleasant
dreams and glorify the far-off past. He goes into a
rapture over the bugle. ' What memories does the mere
mention of the bugle call up ? I remember the^ time
when Goodwin (" Jack Goodwin " he was always called)
or either of the two Blights could stop the whole business
of a market by playing in magnificent style some really
good air just as the coach would be starting after a
change. I fancy I hear Goodwin playing " Or che in
cielo," from the opera of Marino Faliero while I am
writing this letter! It is a solo which every cornet-
player should get. I heard it on the bugle for the first
and only time in 1845. What a pity that so fine an
instrument should be supplanted ! It's " round " tone has
never yet been rivalled, and if ever I become a million-
aire I will have a band of my own with the lead on six
bugles. The appearance of a well-kept bugle was always
so good. Wrhat could be handsomer than the black
shining copper of the instrument itself, and the inch ol
polished brass round the bell, and its seven bright keys ?
But I'm recalling old scenes and old days which, by-the-
bye, I have the temerity to compare in my own mind
with the present days of " progress," and I do not give
the preference to the latter. I have a key-bugle hanging
up in my sanctum, and I also have a cornopean quietly
reposing in its case under the bookshelves, but I cast
admiring looks at the fine old bugle, and shades of
Goodwin, the Blights, Mackintosh, and the leader in my

48 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

old regiment, cum multis a/us, flit across my " mind's
eye " and I wish myself thirty years younger.'

' Jack Goodwin ' brings up the rear of the contro-
versialists, feeling himself highly honoured in having his
name associated with three such splendid performers on
the bugle as the Blights and Mackintosh, named in
' Deadfall's ' letter. He gives us also a bit of his bio-
graphy, and a pathetic bit it is too, stating that ' In
consequence of a " tip" from off the Kingsbridge coach
I had my spine injured, consequently unsuited for an
active life, also a slight paralysis of the speech which
does away with all bugling. Seven years past I accepted
a situation with Mr. Ramsden, cigar merchant, to super-
intend his billiard room in Old Town Street, Plymouth,
the oldest establishment in the three towns.'

From all these letters, and from what Macintyre,
the guard of the London and Brighton coach, has told
me, viz. that when he was the guard of the Brighton
mail, and in the procession on May 24, 1834, he was
requested by the Inspector- General of Mails to play on
his key-bugle, we may take the fact as established that
key-bugles were permitted. Macintyre further told me
that key-bugles, the ' three feet of tin,' the angel (a
shorter horn), and whatever musical instruments were
used, were the property of the guard and provided by
him. This would account for the circumstance of some
mails having them and some not.

WORK AND WAGES OF GUARDS. 49

CHAPTER XI.

WORK AND WAGES OF GUARDS. DRIVING CLUBS.

The certificate of health which all mail guards were re-
quired to show before getting to work, was most neces-
sary, for their work was hard indeed.1 These guards
were noted for their strength and endurance. At the
end of a journey of 120 or 150 miles, a guard might be
compelled, should the succeeding guard, owing perhaps
to snow accident or illness, fail to meet him, to go on to
the end of the next stage, frequently another 1 50 miles.
During the winter the mail guards were furnished with a
' Snow Book,' in which they were to record when it was
necessary to obtain leaders, chaises, or saddle horses, on
account of the snow, and whence such assistance was
had, &c. Of their pay {10s. a week when at work
on a mail) they could save very little, were they ever so
economical. There was the mail-coach porter to pay,
who took charge of their tool-box, the seat cover, and
box coat, cleaned and loaded their two horse-pistols and the
blunderbuss (these were loaded afresh for each journey),
and cleaned their long boots, which had tops to put on for
London wear ; and there was oil to buy for their hand

1 See Appendix B.
E

5o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

lamp. All this alone cost each guard 5s. a-week. Still
it was better to be at work on 10s. than to be a 'super-
numerary ' on 1 2s. 6d. a-week, having to attend the Post
Office all day long in readiness to go off; for the guard
generally expected 2s. a-piece from outside and 2s. 6d.
from inside passengers, besides what he could get for
extra luggage, &c. All fares under $s. the guard and
coachman were allowed to divide between them.
Election time was good for them, for the ' last state of
the poll ' was always worth 5^.

The passenger rates on stages were generally from
2\ji. to 3d. a mile for outsides, and for insides about 41 d.
to ^d. Mail charges were much higher, viz. from <\\d.
to $d. outside, and Sd. to lod. inside.

The expense of horsing a ten-mile-an-hour mail was
from 555. to 3/. per double mile for twenty-eight days.
Say if 3/. per .double mile, the mail, to pay, must earn
390/. a year of thirteen lunar months.

It required eight horses in summer and nine in
winter to horse a mail or stage ten miles of ground to do
ten miles an hour.

In connection with these details of the services
and remuneration of those employed on the road, we may
refer to the various driving clubs, which from time to
time have been founded by those interested in coaching
affairs. Some have had for their object the gratification
of the passion for the whip, others the raising of the
standard of skill in the class of coachmen, amateur or
professional, and others some benevolent purpose.

The B. D. C, or Benson Driving Club, which took

DRIVING CLUBS. 51

its name from Benson or Bensington, in Oxon, on the
Worcester road, forty-six miles from London, was an aris-
tocratic club for those who cherished a fondness for the
road. It was established on February 28, 1807. Nim-
rod gives all information respecting it from its foundation,
and remarks truly how much the road owes to the exist-
ence of such clubs as these.

To the members of this club belongs the credit of
being the chief means of establishing the Benevolent
Whip Club for the relief of coachmen in distress.
And I am indebted to Colonel Charles Tyrwhitt — a
dragsman who will be recognised as ' Charley Tyrwhitt,'
who used frequently to drive the 'Age,' and the 'Windsor
Taglioni ' — for the following details. ' The old B. D. C.
continued to exist for a short time after the death of
Sir Henry Pay ton — the grandfather of the late Sir
Algernon — I think until about 1853-4. -The ''Black
Dog " at Bedfont, which no longer exists, used to be the
place where the Club always dined,1 and where they had
their private cellar.'

The Four Horse Club (called erroneously the Whip
Club and the Four-in-Hand Club) started into existence
in May 1808. See the history of this club by Nimrod,
from which it appears that it ceased to exist before 1826.

It was broken up in consequence of the death of
many of the members, and the advanced age of several
others.

A new driving club was formed under the auspices of

1 After Benson was given up.
E 2

52 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Lord Chesterfield on June 2, 1838, which was called the
Richmond Driving Club (R. D. C), it being determined
to revive in its former glory and splendour this national
institution which has served as an encouragement to
the breeding of the finest cattle in the world. This
club met always at Chesterfield House (Lord Chester-
field, the promoter, being the Hon. Sec), and drove to the
' Castle,' at Richmond, where they dined.

' You may not know,' writes his grace the Duke of
Beaufort, ' One member of the R. D. C. was celebrated for
being " dangerous," and never could get a passenger. One
night after dining at the ' Castle' at Richmond, a passenger
of another coach by mistake climbed on to his box. He
was so pleased that he started immediately. The passen-
ger looked up, and seeing that it was Mr. A who

had hold of the ribbons, never hesitated an instant, but
jumped straight from the box into the middle of the road.'
This club had but a short existence.

Captain Gronow in his ' Celebrities,' writing of these
times, says, — ' In the days of which I speak there were
amateur coachmen, who drove with unflinching regularity,
and in all weathers, the public stage-coaches, and de-
lighted in the opportunity of assimilating themselves
with professional Jehus. Some young men, heirs of large
landed proprietors, mounted the box, handled the ribbons,
and bowled along the high road. They touched their
hats to their passengers ; and some among them did not
disdain even the tip of a shilling or half-a-crown, with
which it was the custom to remunerate the coachman.
Many persons liked travelling to Brighton in the " Age "

DRIVING CLUBS. 53

which was tooled along by Sir Vincent Cotton, whilst
others preferred Charley Tyrwhitt. On the Holyhead
and Oxford, and the Bath and Bristol roads, Lord
Harborough, Lord Clonmell, Sir Thomas Mostyn, Sir
Charles Bamfylde, Sir Felix Agar, Sir Henry Parnell,
Sir Bellingham Graham, Mr. Clutterbuck, Sir John Ladd,
and other members of the Four-in-Hand Club were seen
either driving the coach or sitting cheek by jowl with the
coachman, talking about horses or matters relating to
" life upon the road." One of the members of the Four-in-
Hand, Mr. Vickers, was so determined to be looked upon
as a regular coachman, that he had his front teeth so filed
that a division between them might enable him to expel
his spittle in the true fashion of some of the most know-
ing staee coach drivers ! '

April 1856 saw the formation of the present ' Four-in-
Hand Driving Club' (F. H. D. C), a proof of the undying
love of coaching on the part of many distinguished
leaders of fashion. To the late Mr. William Morritt (a
dragsman whose roans and yellow coach will not easily
be forgotten) is the starting of this club due. The fol-
lowing is a list of the original members of the club : —

The Duke of Beaufort, Marquis of Stafford, Earl
Vane, Lord Edward Thynne, Lord Henry Thynne, Sir
Watkin W. Wynn, W. Morritt, C. Leslie, Captain Baillie,
R.H.G., W. Cooper, W. Craven (1st Life Guards), W. P.
Thornhill, J. I. Jones, R.H.G. ; J. L. Baldwin and L.
Agar Ellis, Secretaries.

By the rules of the F. H. D. C. no coach is permitted
to pass another unless the latter be standing still. The

54 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

pace is not to exceed ten miles an hour. The order for
starting is arranged by lot ; Hyde Park is the starting
point. The club is limited to thirty members, and should
a member be absent from the club for a whole year, he
ceases to be a member.

' Recreation,' says the great Mr. Locke,1 ' is not being
idle ; and he who thinks it is must forget the early rising,
the hard riding, the heat, cold, and hunger, which sports-
men endure. The life of a sportsman is congenial to plea-
sure, for it is passed amidst those scenes of nature which
excite the most generous emotions ; and the character of a
sportsman is generally liberal and benevolent, and if he
reap no other benefit than health from his sports he is
well paid. Whatever may be the object he has in view,
he should pursue it con amore, or it is flat and insipid.'

Some such noble thoughts as these, coupled with the
growing taste for the road, and the exclusiveness of the
Four-in-Hand Club, probably occurred to those gentle-
men who in 1870 became the promoters of a new driv-
ing club called the ' Coaching Club,' which started under
the best auspices. Its first public appearance was most
promising, for I saw twenty-two coaches drawn up in
Hyde Park on that occasion. As was expected, it
flourished.

1 ' Sports and Pastimes.'

DANGERS OF THE ROAD. 55

CHAPTER XII.

DANGERS OF THE ROAD.

That the road was not a pleasure to all, and chiefly in
consequence of the existence of galloping coaches and
amateur coachmen, may be gathered from the following
letter entitled ' The Road and its Dangers ' which ap-
peared in the 'Sporting Magazine' for October 1822.
The ' Old Traveller ' certainly has not a very high opinion
of the road as a gentlemanly pastime ; and his fears of a
' case ' may not have been without foundation.

' I have long considered your entertaining miscellany
as the only vehicle for all that is passing in the sporting
world worthy of record ; but you have lately quitted the
field, and got where many before you have made a con-
spicuous figure, namely, on the road. Who your corre-
spondent Nimrod is, I do not pretend to conjecture ; but
I dare say he is one of those gentlemen coachmen, who a
few years ago, not much to the credit of the English
nation, and with a kind of perverted ambition, figured
away through our streets in processions, on their road to
Salt- Hill, or some other place of resort, in their white hats,
and upper benjamins, driving their four spanking horses,
in close imitation of their inferiors. Mr. Nimrod, I hear

56 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

my friends observe, (who know more of this matter than
myself) is, no doubt, a coachman, and I dare say, one
who has paid dearly for his knowledge, though it must
be admitted, he imparts it freely and agreeably, to those
who may wish to obtain it. He tells us how we are to do
that, in every department of his favourite science, if it may
be so called. But, Mr. Editor, I wish you would have
the goodness to request that he will inform us how we
are to travel fifty miles by a coach without having our
necks broken, or our limbs shattered and amputated ? It
is really heartrending to hear of the dreadful accidents
that befall His Majesty's subjects now on their travels
through the country. In my younger days, when I was
on the eve of setting out on a journey, my wife was in
the habit of giving me her parting blessing, concluding
with the words " God bless you, my dear, I hope you will
not be robbed." But it is now changed to " God bless
you, my dear, I hope you will not get your neck broke,
and that you will bring all your legs safe home again."
Now, Mr. Editor, this neck-breaking and leg-amputating
is all because one daring rascal wishes to show that he is
a better coachman than another daring rascal ; or because
one proprietor on the road is determined not to be out-
done by another proprietor on the road.

' Neither can I think, sir, that such writers as Mr.
Nimrod mend the matter much. By a lively and tech-
nical description of these galloping coaches, he makes
many a young man fancy himself a coachman, from which
cause many an old man gets capsized and hurt. For

DANGERS OF THE ROAD. 57

example : A friend of mine coming up to town a short
time since, by one of these galloping coaches, was upset
and much injured. On going to sympathise with him on
his misfortune, he informed me that the accident was
occasioned by the leaders taking one road and the
wheelers another, so between them both, over they went.
" My God ! " said I, " what was the coachman about ; was
he asleep or drunk ?" " Neither," replied my friend, " he
had nothing to do with it ; a young Oxonian was driving."
Now, Mr. Editor, it is not at all improbable but that
this Oxonian had been reading your magazine the night
before, instead of his classics, and went the next day to
put his theory into practice, by which my friend, a very
worthy man, the father of a large family, nearly lost his
life.

' Whoever takes up a newspaper in these eventful
times, it is even betting whether an accident by a coach,
or a suicide, first meets his eye. Now really, as the
month of November is fast approaching, when, from
foggy weather and dark nights, both these calamities are
likely to increase, I merely suggest the propriety of any
unfortunate gentleman, resolved on self-destruction, try-'
ing to avoid the disgrace attached to it, by first taking a
few journeys by some of these Dreadnought, Highflyer,
or Tally-ho coaches ; as in all probability he may meet
with as instant death as if he had let off one of Joe Man-
ton's pistols in his mouth, or severed his head from his
body with one of Mr. Palmer's best razors.'

In the reign of King George III., a stage coach,

58 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

driven by one Williams,1 and going over Hounslow
Heath on the road between Reading and London, was
stopped by a highwayman, who, riding up, demanded
money of the passengers. A lady gave up her watch,
a gent his purse ; and away goes the highwayman, fol-
lowed, however, by Williams (the bold) on one of the
leaders, who ' nailed ' and brought him back to the coach,
on which he was placed and taken to Staines. This
occurred on a Tuesday ; the hearing before the magis-
trates took place on Wednesday ; or Thursday he was
in Newgate ; on Friday he was tried and sentenced to be
hung on Monday. Williams then got up a memorial,
petitioning for a reprieve ; and on this being presented to
His Majesty the sentence was commuted to transpor-
tation for life. The King was so pleased with Williams'
daring, that he presented him with a key of Windsor
Park gate, to be used by him and his descendants so long
as they drove a coach from Reading to London. This
royal authority allowed them to pass through the park
instead of going by the turnpike road.

Winter had its severities in the days of the old mail-
coach. The Bath coach entered Chippenham one March
morning in 1812, near the beginning of the month, with
two of its outside passengers dead, and a third dying.
The three travellers were frozen to death. We learn the
fact from a letter written to Sir George Jackson by his
mother, within a few days of the occurrence.

1 His great-grandson drove a stage coach called the ' Vivid ' (one of
Benjamin Worthy Home's) from the Cross-keys, Wood Street, and Charing
Cross to Exeter. Jack Goodwin, the well-known guard and player on the
key-bugle, was guard to this coach.

DANGERS OF THE ROAD. 59

In January 18 14, the mail coach from Edinburgh had
to be left behind, the bags being forwarded to Alnwick
on horse-back, and eight horses were required to draw
the 'Wellington' coach from York to Newcastle.

The ostler at the ' Bull Inn,' Dartford, on the Dover
Road — which inn, by the way, is one of those old galleried
houses so picturesque and at the same time so comfort-
able and homely — told me that he had frequently seen
boys lifted frozen from off their saddles on getting into
the yard. During the severe winter of 1863, I saw the
Norwich and Cromer coach leave the inn at Norwich,
drawn by eight horses- — the late eccentric Mr. Wyndham
used often to drive this coach. The pack-horse and the
waggon, the stage coach and the mail, have all had to
succumb to the rage of winter. The patience, diligence,
and self-sacrifice of guards of mails were conspicuous in
the fearful snow-storms in 1836. A mail coach having
travelled in Scotland during a driving snow-storm as far
as it could advance, the guard, as was the custom in such
cases, took the bags with him on horse-back for nine
miles farther. And then the horse sinking deeper at
every step, was sent back to the coach, while the rider
(I should like to know his name), essaying to carry the
bags on foot, was found with them around his neck next
morning quite dead. During the winter months, a snow
shovel was always carried on the mail ; it was strapped,
handle downwards, at the back of the guard's seat.

The fearful snowstorm of December 1836, which
lasted the best part of a week, has never been equalled
in England before or since. For ten days or more

60 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

travelling was nearly at a standstill. ' Never before,'
writes a correspondent of the ' Times ' of that day, ' never
before within recollection was the London mail stopped
for a whole night at a few miles from London, and never
before have we seen the intercourse between the southern
shores of England and the Metropolis interrupted for
two whole days.' The guards represented the night of
Sunday, December 25, of that year as one of the severest
they had ever experienced, and this was saying a great
deal. Scarcely a single stage-coach left London either
on the 26th or the 27th, and arrivals from the country
were as rare. For the heavy fall of snow during Christ-
mas night was not limited to the Metropolis, but extended
generally over the whole kingdom. The roads leading
to Portsmouth and Poole were the only ones that
remained open throughout this storm. The depth of the
drifts in the hollows of most roads was reported to be
from twelve to twenty feet. Some passengers described
the drifts as ' mountains high,' and some of the coachmen
stated that the snow in places was higher than their
heads as they sat on the box. The King was, at the
time, at Brighton, and it was with the greatest difficulty
that the despatches were transmitted between London
and the Pavilion. The few guards and coachmen who
were fortunate enough to reach London on the 28th
stated that it was not so much the quantity of snow
fallen which created the difficulty, as the strong wind,
which drove all the snow off the high lands into the
hollows The Brighton mail, a pair-horse coach, left
town on the night of the 25th with four horses. The

DAXGERS OF THE ROAD. 61

Edinburgh mail started with six horses, and the Holy-
head and Halifax were drawn by four horses with
postilions. The stables of the coach proprietors in
and around London were completely exhausted of cattle,
owing to the non-arrivals from the country. As it was
doubtful whether any of the mails would start, the pro-
prietors of the principal coach inns in London refused to
book passengers. The guard of the Exeter mail (by
Yeovil), which started from Exeter on the night of the
26th, stated that they were buried in snow at five different
places, and had to be dug out ! The town of St. Albans
was completely full of mails and coaches which could
neither be got up nor down the road. It was said that
on the 27th there were fourteen mail coaches abandoned
on the various roads. In all cases the bags were re-
moved, and the horses extricated, the mail coach being
then abandoned until the change of weather commenced.
In open parts of the country all trace of the mail road
was lost, and the coachman was obliged in several
instances to travel by guess, or trust to the instinct of his
horses.

The great exertions made by the guards and coach-
men of the mails on all the roads throughout the country,
and the unparalleled privations and fatigues which they
underwent, called forth the following thanks of the Post-
master-General : —

' To the mail guards — to be delivered by the Post-
masters—

' I have hourly proofs of the great exertions made by
the guards to get the mails forwarded through the snow,

62 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

and almost wonders have been performed ; this is most
gratifying to the Postmaster-General. I am assured
their exertions will be continued, and I pray they may
not be to the injury of the health of the men respec-
tively. I direct their attention to the plan of the snow
plough, which may be seen at the Post Office.1 I re-
quest the coaches which may be about the country, out
of course, may be sent to their proper destinations.

(Signed) ' George Louis,

' Surveyor and Superintendent.'

It was found that the best means of saving horses
from falling- was to fill the hoof in the interior of the
shoe with soft soap. This soap not only prevents the
accumulation of snow, but by its repulsive properties
prevents the horse's foot from slipping. By the 28th
the roads were, by constant labour, partially cleared,
and the mail contractors were generally ready to
book passengers again, but still with the stipulation
that they should bring no luggage.

It was reported in London at noon on December 26,
that the Manchester, Holyhead, Chester and Halifax
mails had stuck fast in the snow drifts at Hockley- Hill
near Dunstable. In the background of this picture is
the Chester mail. An attempt had been made, by the

1 This plough was of triangular form, and was made of planks, with
braces crossed to hold them together. The nose, or point, of the plough
was shod with iron, and had also a shackle, to which hung whippings or
bars, by which the horses drew it. It was made from four to six feet deep,
according to the depth of the snow. No bottom was needed ; but it was
laden on the top with planks, laid across, to give sufficient weight to keep it
down to the ground. It was a very efficient implement.

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DANGERS OF THE ROAD. 63

help of waggon horses, to draw it out of the snow, but
the fore axle gave way, and the coach was left behind ;
the bags were forwarded by a post-horse. The Holy-
head mail in the foreground, was awkwardly situated,
for the horses were all but buried in attempting to pull
the coach out of the drift. The coachman got down
and almost disappeared in the drift upon which he
alighted ; but fortunately at this juncture a waggon with
four horses came up, and by attaching them to the mail
it was eot out of the hollow in which it was sunk.

In 1825 was established the celebrated stage coach,
the ' Shrewsbury Wonder,' which maintained its character
for punctuality, safety, and speed for thirteen years. It
was the first that attempted to perform so long a journey
as 154 miles in one day ; in fact, as well as in name, it was
the wonder of the day. Starting at a quarter to five
o'clock in the morning, it arrived in London at a quarter
to ten that night, stopping twice for refreshments. On
the completion of the railroad between Birmingham and
London, the ' Wonder ' ran from Shrewsbury to Bir-
mingham whence it was conveyed to London on the rail-
road.

64 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE WHITE HORSE CELLAR, PICCADILLY. SHORT STAGES.

Here is a good picture of Piccadilly, in the neighbour-
hood of the White Horse Cellar, in 1829, drawn by Pierce
Egan, author of the clever and humorous book ' Life in
London; or, the Adventures of Tom, "Jerry," and Logic' :

' It is highly necessary for persons who are quitting
London at the above rendezvous for stage coaches to be
alert, for their attention is so much occupied by the sur-
rounding objects, that the passengers have scarcely time
to think of themselves.

' To the strange and timid female the bustle and noise
. of the scene is extremely annoying ; the almost perpetual
blowing of horns, the arrival and departure of numerous
stage-coaches, the busy, impertinent, resolute cads, also
on the look-out to procure passengers, persuading them
nearly against their inclinations to mount "this," or "that
'ere coach," with which their interests are connected ; men
with newspapers, others with umbrellas, oranges, pencils,
walking-sticks, &c, form a most extraordinary assem-
blage, and absorb the whole attention ; indeed the ignorant
are very liable to make mistakes, and in more instances
than one, it has been discovered too late to rectify the

SHORT STAGES. 65

error. When many miles out of town they have had the
mortification of learning- they have gone by a wrong
coach.' What a blow the exceedingly fat gentleman
must have experienced when, having given strict orders
to his man to take him two seats, he found that one was
booked outside and one in !

' The mistakes and blunders which are sometimes
committed by travellers generally arise from the want of
proper attention on the part of the book-keepers and
porters, who are generally very sparing in their infor-
mation.' A ludicrous occurrence, writes Jehu, once
happened to a friend of mine who was extremely near-
sighted. This gentleman was dining on the road, and on
resuming his journey happened to get into a wrong coach
and was carried about twenty miles out of his way before
he discovered his mistake. As soon, however, as it was
discovered, he observed to the coachman, that as his lug-
gage which was travelling by the other coach was labelled,
he supposed it would go safe ; upon which coachee replied
there was no doubt of it, and that if he had been labelled
he would have eone safe a]so J '

It must be remembered that the period during which
the short stages ran in and about London preceded the
introduction of omnibuses. On this subject the following
statement by an old hand may have some interest. ' I
ought to know,' he says, ' something about 'buses and
'busmen ; for I have been on the journey ever since I
was the height of your walking-stick. When I was a
little chap I used to sleep among the parcels in the boot

F

66 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

of a Paddington and City stage-coach. That was long
before the 'buses came up. There used to be stage-
coaches on the main lines that are now worked by the
'buses. They were just like an old country stage-coach.
They were mostly in fact, old stage-coaches, only they
had but a pair of horses instead cf four. There is an
old pattern stage-coach on the stones to this day ; it
comes in from Brixton Hill, and you may see it crossing
London Bridge any morning. The coaches used to
carry six inside, and twelve outside, and the fare was
sixpence between Paddington and the City. They had
no conductors, the coachman managed everything along
with his parcel boy. The parcel traffic, which used to
be worth something, was a perquisite of the coachman,
and he had a boy to manage it, whom he paid himself;
eighteenpence a week was about the figure. The boy
rode in the boot along with the parcels ; and sometimes
he was paid by a share of the parcel profits. The
coaches were owned by private people — publicans, stable-
keepers and the like. The largest owner was a Mrs.
Nelson (the spirited Mrs. Nelson, perhaps the most
spirited coach proprietor that ever put a horse to a coach),
the landlady of the "Spread Eagle" in Gracechurch
Street, whose family owned the " Favourite " 'buses till
they were taken over by the Company. Their pace
wasn't very lively ; you see the roads were not so good
as now, and the competition wasn't very keen. About
four and a half miles an hour was the pace, and the
coaches used to stop an hour at each end of the journeys.
The great head-quarters for the Paddington stage-coaches

SHORT STAGES. 67

were at the " Yorkshire Stingo ; " and almost all of the
West-end coaches in these days, used to stop in St.
Paul's Churchyard, instead of going down Cheapside to
the Bank. They were well patronised, the old coaches,
and several fine fortunes have been made out of them.'

f 2

68 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XIV.

COACHING IN THE NORTH OF ENGLAND.

Fifty years ago, the state of coaching in remote country
districts, and especially in the northern counties, presented
in many respects a great contrast to its state near London.
The progress of improvement had been much slower,
and the country turn-outs were not so ' bang-up ' as the
London ones.

' The build of the coaches,' says Nimrod,1 who, in
1827 took the York coach at Leeds, ' the manufacture
of the harness, and the stamp and condition of the horses
are greatly inferior in these northern counties ; and as
for the coachmen, I saw but four at all deserving that
appellation. The man who drove us on the day I am
speaking of reminded me more of a Welsh drover than
anything else. He had neither gloves, boots, nor gaiters,
although the day was cold, which at first excited my
surprise ; but when I found that he only drove one ten-
mile stage, I ceased to wonder, as a glass of gin on
leaving the town, one on the road, and towelling his
wheel horses, kept his blood on the move for the short
time he was at work. As I sat by the side of him he

1 ' Yorkshire Tour.'

COACHING IN THE NORTH OF ENGLAND. 69

was kind enough to amuse me with some hair-breadth
escapes he had experienced when on one of those gallop-
ing- opposition coaches, which more than once went from
Leeds to London, one hundred and ninety-six miles, in
sixteen hours. But I soon lamented having introduced
the subject. I accidentally told him he must be a pro-
ficient on the bench, or he would not have been put on
so fast a coach ; and this was near being our death-
warrant. To give me a specimen of his art, he sprung
his horses into a gallop, on some falling ground, and
in a clumsy attempt to pull them up by the leg he got
his reins clubbed, and I thought nothing could have
saved us. I shammed sick and got into the coach. But
the novelty of the scene did not end here. When we
came to Tadcaster, only ten miles from York, the door
of the coach was opened, and " Please to remember the
coachman" tingled in the ears of the passengers. "What
now," said I, " are you going no farther?" " No sir, but
ah's (Yorkshire for ' I ') goes back at night," was the
Yorkshireman's answer. " Then you follow some trade
here, of course ?" continued I. " No, sir," said a bystander,
ilke has got his horses to clean." "Oh, that's the way your
Yorkshire coaching is done, is it?" said I to my communi-
cative friend on the pavement. I then saw my fellow
passengers pull out sixpence each and give it to John,
who was not only satisfied, but thankful. "What am I
to do?" said I to myself, "I never gave a coachman six-
pence yet, and I shall not begin that game to-day." So
I chucked him a bob, which brought his hat down to the
box of the fore-wheel.

7o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

' With a fresh team and a fresh driver (it will not do
to use the word " coachman " upon all occasions), we pn>
ceeded to York fourteen miles farther. About half-way
the coach stopped at a public-house in the old style ;
the coachman got down, the gin bottle was produced.
Looking out of the window I espied my friend John,
whom I thought we had left behind us at Tadcaster,
hard at work with the wisp. " What," said I, " are you
here?" "Why yes," answered John; "'tis market at
York, and ah's wants to buy a goose or two." " Ah,"

observed I, " I thought you were a little in the huckster-

• i • >> >
ing line.

PETER PRY'S LETTER. 71

CHAPTER XV.

PETER PRY'S LETTER. — COACHMEN. YARDS.

In recalling those old times it is interesting to form an
acquaintance with the actors in them. Some remi-
niscences of them are to be found in the volumes of the
' Sporting Magazine ' of forty or fifty years ago, which
introduce us to the most celebrated coachmen of mails
and stage-coaches. The first of these whom I shall
present to my readers is one Cartwright, who drove the
York Express coach from Buckden to Welwyn. He
is thus described by a writer who signs himself Peter
Pry:

' Mr. Cartwright drives the York Express coach
from Buckden to Welwyn and back every day, about
seventy miles, for one or two stages of which he provides
horses. He has done this for many years, with scarcely
any intermission. I consider him under fifty years
of age, bony, without fat, healthy-looking, evidently the
effect of abstemiousness ; not too tall, but just the size to
sit gracefully and powerfully, as well as to render his
getting up and down easy. The moment he has got his
seat and made his start, you are struck at once with the
perfect mastership of his art : the hand just over his left

72 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

thigh, the arm without constraint, steady, and with a
holding" command that keeps his horses like clockwork,
yet to a superficial observer quite with loose reins. So
firm and compact is he, that you seldom observe any
shifting ; only, I may say, to take a shorter purchase for
a run down hill, which he accomplishes with greater
confidence and skill than any man I ever saw, untinctured
with imprudence. His right hand and whip (now I want
Nimrod) are beautifully in unison : the cross, if not in
direct line with the box, over the near wheel, raised
gracefully up, ready, as it were, to reward the near-side
horse ; the thong, after three twists (just enough sus-
pended for the necessary purpose), which appear in his
hand to have been placed by the maker, never to be
altered or improved, and if the off-side horse becomes
slack, to see the turn of his arm to reduce a twist, or to
reverse it, if necessary, is exquisite, and after being
placed under the rib, or upon the shoulder point, up
comes the arm, and with it the thong returns to the
elegant position upon the cross. I say elegant — the stick
highly polished yew, rather light, not too taper, yet
elastic, a thong in clean order, pliable, — with this man it
really is elegance, the direction of the thong over the
cross without effort, simply a turn of the wrist.1

' This refinement in the management of the whip is
not of many years' birth. I remember when it was not
known as a luxury in driving ; even now it belongs only
to a rare few to execute the accomplishment effectively

1 The length of your whip should be 5 ft. i^ins. from the butt to holder,
and 12 ft. 5 in. or 6 in. from the holder to the end of your point.

PETER PRY'S LETTER. 73

and with grace. Some men, aware of the facility it
gives to punishment, will hold the cross over the off wheel
perpendicularly, and twist away till the desideratum is
obtained, and then the ears and haunches well scored
are the result.

' Cartwright's perfections end not here — his manner of
treating the leaders is equally fine. His teams are too
good ever to require severity, therefore you cannot get
to see a specimen of the different strokes, right and left.
However, to see my friend use a back-handed draw over
the leaders' heads is worth riding many hours in a wet
day for, which I did. Even this esprit de Vhomme is
rare, for his system is stillness, and to drive without
using the whip. The tits are fair, not first-rate ; but the
steadiness and lightness of his hand, cool temper, perfect
acquaintance with pace, and knowledge where the best
play is to be made, render his task more than easy, quite
a pleasure, and he performs his distance always to a
minute, load or no load. He is no dandy, but is equipped
most respectably and modestly, with good taste. He
seems the idol of the road both with old and young ; his
manners on the box are respectable, communicative
without impertinence, nor tarnished with cant slang (only
fit for collegiates in teens, in rough coats and pearl
buttons as large as the crown of the low hat with a long
brim). He is acquainted with everybody and every occu-
pation within his sphere, and is therefore an entertaining
companion even to an ordinary traveller, but combining
these with his perfect professional knowledge, embracing
all niceties, he enchants an amateur, and through rain,

74 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

fog, frost, or any other agreeable antidote, not forgetting
a sharp easterly, you keep the box without a moment's
regret. His excellent qualities have gained their reward ;
he is well-to-do, lives regularly, with a happy family,
envying neither lord nor peasant.

' I rode through a bad day from London to Grantham,
taking my leave of the coach there, but cannot do so
here without a just commendation — that it is by far the
best conducted on the north road. One hundred and
ten miles finished by half-past eight renders a man well
inclined to the enjoyment of a quickly managed dinner at
that exquisite inn, the " Saracen's Head," where you have
a cleaner cloth, brighter plate, higher polished glass,
brisker fire, with more prompt attention and civility, than
at most other places, indeed as readily and effectively as
if you had to pay icxs-. to two first-turn boys.

' The ensuing morning at a quarter after eight,
listen ! listen ! three lengthened blows of a horn, not
bugle (I wish Nimrod would give me a better and more
pleasing term than blow for this mail coach characteristic),
announce the arrival of the Edinburgh mail, when out
step night-capped passengers half asleep ; however, fresh
water and good spirits dispel the gloomy faces, and down
go, for twenty minutes, hot rolls, boiled eggs and best
Bohea.

' I slept here on purpose for the opportunity of having
a ride on this celebrated mail — bribed for a box seat,
though the morning was very severe. It was clear and
dry, however, and a day or two of like character rendered
the roads in the most perfect order. Not a puddle, not

PETER PRY'S LETTER. 75

a particle of soil even stirred or dimmed the polished
fellies ; no impediment, excepting now and then a few
of Macadam's three-cornered diamonds ; but even they
give a pleasing variety to the deep round roll of a mail.
I have not room to do more than offer a humble tribute
of praise to this renovator of ways : he deserves both
eulogy and reward.

. ' The same coachman from Stamford proceeded, his
stage being to Doncaster, about seventy-five miles. This
Mr. Leech, who has been many years receiving the keen
air and healthy breezes in this distance every day, is too
well known for me to say much about. He is not so
highly finished a man as my former friend, but he is
quietness itself. His horses are in the highest condition,
well bred, and so much above their work as to require
the strictest attention. He granted me the favour of a
drive ; and but from weak wrists arising from that potent
enemy to all enjoyment, the gout, I should have received
a high gratification. The pace, ten miles an hour, appears
nothing to do — no hurry, no distress, no whipping. He
has a team from Barnby Moor to Rossetter Bridge, ten
miles, four bay blood mares entirely matched. They go
every day, and have done so for five or six years, without
an accident or a rest-day asked for. The harness, the
condition, and the quickness of changing, all say they
are Clark's.

1 I cannot part with my friend Leech without advert-
ing to a most singular and unique custom I witnessed
on the road, which doubtless is peculiar to the natural
feeling of true hospitality and kind-heartedness in the

75 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Northern breasts. In the village of Sutton-on-Trent
and its neighbourhood, the small farmers and cottagers
once a year, with a week's continuance, prepare their
homely offerings to the mail coachmen and guards, not
forgetting the passengers. The time is watched with
anxious care by the young girls of the families, or by
the old people if left alone in the world. Upon a tray
covered with a beautiful damask napkin are displayed
plum cakes, tartlets, gingerbread, exquisite home-made
bread and biscuits, ale, currant and gooseberry wines,
cherry-brandy, and, by some, spirits. These in old-
fashioned glass jugs embossed with figures have a most
pleasing effect. As to the contents, they are superlative.
Such ale ! such currant wine ! such cherry-brandy ! Oh !
The coach was compelled to stop, and was surrounded
by half a dozen damsels, all enchanting young people,
neatly clad, rather shy, but courteously importunate ; at
the close, not in ill-humour, however, at the passing jokes
accompanying your thanks : eat and drink you must. I
tasted all. How could I resist the winning manners of
the rustics, with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes ? My
poor stomach, not used to such luxuries and extraordi-
naries at eleven o'clock in the morning, was, however,
in fine agitation the remainder of the ride, fifty miles.
Neither time nor entreaties can prevent their solicita-
tions ; they are issued to reward the men for trifling
kindnesses occasionally granted. We lost ten minutes ;
they were soon recovered by one or two good spurts,
indeed a gallop was an agreeable finale.

' It was my intention to have given the picture of

PETER PRY'S LETTER. 77

another prominent character I fell in with on my return,
but I have gabbled away without thought to an extra-
vagant length, therefore my obeisance ought to be made.
But as my journey was a long one, and occasioned some
occurrences amusing to myself, I shall not object to
submit another offering, provided the manner and matter
of this be considered acceptable.

' My family are notorious for the love of curiosity and
restlessness. Indeed, the fame of my brother Paul is
spread over every clime. I possess neither his intellect
nor activity ; but I have a good share of his impudence.
However, I cannot change either my nature or name ;
so must be your obedient humble servant,

' Peter Pry.'

Of another well-known coachman, George Clarke,
' Peter Pry ' says there is scarcely any district more try-
ing to a coachman than this in which George Clarke
works. He takes the ' Umpire' at Newport Pagnel, and
meets the down coach at Whetstone, returning about nine
o'clock, after thirty miles' hard work. Mr. Okaver, ' one
of the best judges in England,' speaking of Clarke, said
to ' Peter Pry,' ' He is the first coachman in England for
bad horses, and therefore the most valuable of servants.'
' Peter Pry ' continues, — ' Having always weak horses to
nurse, the ordeal has worn him down to a pattern of
patience. With these and other great weights upon
severe ground, he is steady, easy, very economical in
thong and cord, very light handed, and sometimes even
playful. I observed him closely, and discovered from his

78 AXNALS OF THE ROAD.

remarks, as well as from what I saw, that his great secret
of keeping his nags in anything like condition, and pre-
serving them when apparently worn out, is by putting
them properly together, by constantly shifting the situa-
tions, by the use of check reins with remarkable judg-
ment, by which means he brings the power to as near
equality as possible, besides preventing the horrid evil
of boring. Indeed they all went light and airy, and though
at times his hold of necessity becomes powerful, yet,
generally speaking, he takes his load without a severe
strain upon his arms.' The idea of having new roads to
run in a perfectly straight line, taking London for the
centre, had at this time been talked of for many
years, on the eastern side of the country, in the direct
line between Edinburgh and London. A grand new
road had been spoken of for some time; and in 1824 a
good road was finished and opened out as far south as
Morpeth. There is nothing new under the sun, and in
this straight line notion we were but following that of the
Romans. A continuation of the road from Morpeth to
London being greatly needed, the Post Office authorities
engaged Mr. Telford, the eminent engineer, to make a
survey of it over the remaining distance. The survey
lasted many years. A hundred miles of the new Great
North Road, south of York, were laid out in a perfectly
straight line when the works (which were to cost an
enormous sum) were arrested by the introduction of rail-
roads. Who knows but that some day railroads may be
found too crooked ! ' direct advantage ' is what certainly
is sought in everything.

COACHMEN. 79

I must not omit here the sketch of yet another coach-
man, Cracknell of - Tantivy ' fame, drawn by a writer
who siens himself ' Whiz.' 1

' Almost any tidy whip can push along the Brighton
" Age " or the " Taglioni " in the style of Sir Baronet or
Charles Brackenbury ; but I doubt whether they could
keep the pace with the cripples we had the other night
in the Bristol Mail, over the long hill at mail speed and
under Post Office regulations. If I were to name one
man above another who does fast work in the most
finished style, and who possesses tact and perseverance
almost more than any other coachman, it would be Crack-
nell, on the London side of " Tantivy" ; and although not
a most finished ribbon-holder, still he is a most wonderful
time-keeper and nurser of weak stock. He seems to con-
sider minutely the constitution and disposition of every
horse he handles, and eases them wonderfully when in
difficulty, and his head seems always at work for their
indulgence. Driving is a science not easily obtained by
amateurs ; the science consists in apportioning the labour
and shifting the load, so as to keep the stock above their
work ; and not as many amateurs suppose, in neatly
taking off a fly on the leaders' ears.'

Of the ' Yards ' at this time, Mr. Chaplin's was the
largest, having 1,300 horses at work. He owned the
1 Spread Eagle ' 2 and ' Cross Keys,' Gracechurch Street,
the ' Swan with two Necks,' 2 in Lad Lane, and the
' White Horse,' in Fetter Lane.

1 < Sporting Magazine,' 1837.

2 These two inns were afterwards long held, first by Mrs. Nelson, and
afterwards by Mrs. Ann Mountain.

8o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Messrs. Hall and Sherman were the next largest
coach proprietors ; they were the proprietors of the cele-
brated ' Bull and Mouth. ' l

1 Bull and Month Yard.

' Come, it is time we are alive and look out, for the
yard is all in a bustle ; here are lots of coaches preparing
for a start, so let us look around and see what is going
forward. We sally forth into the yard where the con-
fusion created by the arrival of one coach heavily laden,
and the preparation of two for departure, afforded a scene
for a quiet contemplatist which, however, it is not easy
to describe.

' " Coachman,'' said an antiquated lady just alighting,
" I paid my fare."

' " Yes ma'am, that's all fair," said coachy.

• " Mind how you hand my dear little boy out of the
coach ; poor little fellow, he is quite dizzy with riding."

'-" I thinks as how you had better have brought a man
with you, for you want taking care of yourself," grumbled
coachy, as he handed the young one out. " There he is,
ma'am — stand upon your pins, my man."

1 Now known as the ' Queen,' though the sign of the ' Bull and Mouth '
is still over the old archway, which, having been partly filled in, now forms
the front door entrance. Under the figure of the bull are these lines :

* Milo, the Cretonian,
An ox slew with his fist,
And ate it up at one meal,
Ye Gods, what glorious twist ! '

This suggests a different notion of the origin of the sign from the usually-
accepted one, which makes it refer to the taking of the town of Boulogne.

YARDS. 8 1

' " Come, Charley — oh, coachy, you have got my box
in your boot."

' "Aye, aye, ma'am, I know it ; I wish my boot was in
your box— here it is, ma'am."

'"Stand by," said a Jack tar, " let's have a little sea
room and no squalls."

' " Coachy, what a rude fellow that is ; he says I
squalls."

"•' Never mind him, ma'am, he is as rough as the
element he belongs to — thankye, ma'am — that's the time
o' day," pocketing a half-crown which she had just given
him. " Here, Bill, take this lady's luggage out of the
way."

' " Just going off, sir — do you go by me ?"

' " Yes, how many have you inside ? "

1 " Only four, sir, and you two make up the number.
All ready, Jem, bear up the leaders. Now, gentlemen,
you brush in and I will brush on. Shut the door, Dick ;
all right — ya — hip." '

The following is a list of good coachmen at work in
1838 :_

1 The Baronet ' (Sir Vincent Cotton), driving the
* Age,' on the Brighton road.

Mr. Charles Jones.

Mr. John Willan, ' Brighton Times.'

Holmes, Blenheim, Oxford.

Jerry Howse, ' Tantivy,' Birmingham.

Tom Mountain, ' Salisbury,' Birmingham to Oxford.

G

coachmen out of Birmingham.

82 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Cracknell (one of the first to dispense with cruppers
and running reins), Birmingham.

Captain Warbuck, ' Alert;' Cheltenham to Birming-
ham.

Wilcox's (two)

Kingsbury

Stephen Howse

Tolley

Jack Sprorson, who drove the ' York House' between
London and Marlborough.

Cragnell, driving the ' Eclipse ' out of Southampton.

Sydney Robinson, out of London.

The task of the professional coachman was no light
one. ' The anxiety attendant upon driving a four- horse
stage,' says Pierce Egan, ' keeping strange horses at times
well together and to do their work, the duty to be per-
formed whether in hot or cold, wet or dry, the safety of
the passengers always in view either up or down the hills,
the absolute necessity of keeping time (and there is the
great secret to be learned by the would-be coachman), the
different tempers to please inside and outside the coach,
civility always required, and satisfaction to be given to the
various proprietors. When all the above circumstances
are taken into consideration, the liberal mind must be
clearly satisfied that 'the labourer is worthy of his hire.'

Within the last twenty-five years the stage coachmen
throughout England are an improved race of men.

Altogether the waste butt sort of chap is entirely re-
moved from the box, drinking at every inn quite ex-

YARDS. 83

ploded, and the driver in general so well togged, his linen
white as snow, and viewed not only as one of the best
dressed, but frequently the best behaved, man upon the
coach ; full of anecdote, anxious to please all parties,
cheerful and merry, frequently humming some well-
known air ; by which means a journey of fifty or sixty
miles in our days is disposed of so quickly as to appear
more like a matter of pleasure than the dull heavy routine
connected with business and fatigue. And such a one
was ' Bill-put-em-along.'

g 2

84 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XVI.

WASHINGTON IRVING's PORTRAIT OF A STAGE COACHMAN.

Washington Irving, in his very graphic description of
English life and character in the 'Sketch Book of Geoffrey
Crayon,' depicts 'a stage coachman of quite the old
school ' to the life. Travelling in Yorkshire in December,
the day preceding Christmas Day, he found the coach
crowded inside and out with passengers, most of them
on their way to spend the morrow with friends. ' The
coach,' he says, ' was loaded also with hampers of game,
and baskets and boxes of delicacies ; and hares hung
dangling their long ears about the coachman's box, pre-
sents from distant friends for the impending feast. I
could not but notice the more than ordinary air of bustle
and importance of the coachman, who wore his hat a little
on one side, and had a long bunch of Christmas greens
stuck in the button-hole of his coat. He is always a
personage full of mighty care and business, but he is
particularly so during this season, having so many com-
missions to execute in consequence of the great inter-
change of presents. And here, perhaps, it may not be
unacceptable to my untravelled readers to have a sketch
that may serve as a general representation of this very

PORTRAIT OF A STAGE COACHMAN. 85

numerous and important class of functionaries, who have
a dress, a manner, a language, an air peculiar to them-
selves, and prevalent throughout the fraternity ; so that
wherever an English stage-coachman may be seen he
cannot be mistaken for one of any other craft or mystery.
He has commonly a broad full face, curiously mottled
with red, as if the blood had been forced by hard feeding
into every vessel of the skin ; he is swelled into jolly
dimensions by frequent potations of malt liquors, and his
bulk is still further increased by a multiplicity of coats in
which he is buried like a cauliflower, the upper one reach-
ing to his heels. He wears a broad-brimmed low-crowned
hat, a huge roll of coloured handkerchief about his neck,
knowingly knotted and tucked in at the bosom, and has
in summer time a large bouquet of flowers in his button-
hole, the present most probably of some enamoured
country lass. His waistcoat is commonly of some bright
colour, striped, and his small clothes extend far below the
knees to meet a pair of jockey boots, which reach about
half-way up his legs.

'All this costume is maintained with much precision —
he has a pride in having his clothes of excellent materials ;
and notwithstanding the seeming grossness of his appear-
ance, there is still discernible that neatness and propriety
of person which is almost inherent in an Englishman.
He enjoys great consequence and consideration along
the road ; has frequent conferences with the village house-
wives, who look upon him as a man of great trust and
dependence ; and he seems to have a good understanding
with every bright-eyed country lass. The moment he

86 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

arrives where the horses are to be changed, he throws
down the reins with something of an air, and abandons
the cattle to the care of the hostler, his duty being merely
to drive from one stage to another. When off the box
his hands are thrust in the pockets of his great coat, and
he rolls about the inn yard with an air of the most abso-
lute lordliness. Here he is generally surrounded with an
admiring throng of hostlers, stable-boys, shoe-blacks, and
those nameless hangers-on, that infest inns and taverns,
and run errands and do all kinds of odd jobs, for the
privilege of fattening on the drippings of the kitchen and
the leakage of the tap-room. These all look up to him
as an oracle, treasure up his cant phrases, echo his
opinions about horses and other topics of jockey lore,
and, above all, endeavour to imitate his air and carriage.
Every ragamuffin that has a coat to his back, thrusts his
hands in the pockets, rolls in his gait, talks slang, and is
an embryo coachey.'

JOHN DAY, A PATHETIC BALLAD. 87

CHAPTER XVII.

JOHN DAY, A PATHETIC BALLAD.

The following humorous sketch, from the facetious pen
of Tom Hood, the celebrated punster, will form an
amusing contrast to the preceding realistic portrait by
Washington Irving: —

JOHN DAY, A PATHETIC BALLAD.
' A clay after the fair.' — Old Proverb.

John Day he was the biggest man

Of all the coachman kind,
With back too broad to be conceived

By any narrow mind.

The very horses knew his weight

When he was in the rear,
And wished his box, a Christmas box,

To come but once a year

Alas ! against the shafts of love

What armour can avail ?
Soon Cupid sent an arrow through

His scarlet coat of mail.

The barmaid of the ' Crown ' he loved,

From whom he never ranged ;
For though he changed his horses there,

His love he never changed.

88 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

*

He thought her fairest of all fares,

So fondly love prefers ;
And often among twelve outsides

Deemed no outside like hers.

One day as she was sitting down

Beside the porter pump,
He came and knelt with all his fat,

And made an offer plump.

Said she, my taste will never learn

To like so huge a man ;
So I must beg you will come here

As little as you can.

But still he stoutly urged his suit
With vows, and sighs, and tears ;

Yet could not pierce her heart, although
He drove the Dart for years.

In vain he vowed, in vain he sued,
The maid was cold and proud,

And sent him off to Coventry
While on the way to Stroud.

He fretted all the way to Stroud,
And thence all back to town ;

The course of love was never smooth,
So he went up and down.

At last her coldness made him pine

To merely bones and skin ;
But still he loved like one resolved

To love through thick and thin.

Oh Mary ! view my wasted back,

And see my dwindled calf ;
Though I have never had a wife,

I've lost my better half.

JOHN DAY, A PATHETIC BALLAD. 89

Alas ! in vain he still assailed,

Her heart withstood the dint ;
Although he carried sixteen stone

He could not move a flint.

Worn out at last, he made a vow

To break his being's link ;
For he was so reduced in size

At nothing he could shrink.

Now some will talk in water's praise,

And waste a deal of breath,
But John, though he drank nothing else

He drank himself to death.

The cruel maid that caused his love

Found out the fatal close ;
For looking in the butt, she saw

The butt end of his woes.

Some say his spirit haunts the ' Crown,'

But that is only talk ;
For after riding all his life

His ghost objects to walk.

9o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XVIII.

ASCOT.

Among the reminiscences of bygone years, I must find
room for a graphic and animated picture of Ascot on its
race-days about half a century ago, drawn by the skilful
hand of a writer who assumed the name of ' Patroclus,'
and contributed to the pages of the ' Sporting Magazine.'
It was in June 1827 that Patroclus drove down with a
friend to Ascot races and saw with keen eyes what he
has described.

The ' lathy chap Stevy,' alluded to by ' Patroclus,' is the
celebrated young cantab, Mr. Stevenson, who did so much
when on the Brighton road (see my list of coaches and
coachmen down this road), to elevate the science and
heighten the tone of the thing, bringing Corinthian and
coachman more on a level. This by reason of his fine
taste, his scientific knowledge, and his accomplished style of
driving, he was well able to do. His establishment (for
he ran his own coach, the ' Coronet') was of the first order ;
no pains or expense were spared to collect the best of
quads and to render the thing complete and suitable to
all tastes. The ' Coronet ' started daily from London
and Brighton, and did its journey in six hours without

ASCOT.

9'

hurry or distress. This testimony is due to the memory
of so eminent a sporting character.

' Tuesday and Thursday,' says Patroclus, ' were by
far the best attended ; indeed the crowd was intense,
like the heat ; splendid, genteel, grotesque, many in
masquerade, but all in good humour. It is no easy matter
to give anyone an idea of the strange monstrosities and
strange appearances, which keep you in constant agitation
and surprise, upon a fully peopled race-course. My poor
friend, unused to such a whirligig scene, was hissing hot
with the burning sun and Babel varieties (indeed nothing
but cooling drink from the ice-tub — another novelty-
brought him to colour and quiet) — dandies of men,
dandies of women, lords in white trousers and black
whiskers, ladies with small faces and very large hats,
Oxford scholars with tandoms and randoms, some on
stage-coaches transmogrified into drags,1 fifteen on the
top, and six thin ones within ; a two foot horn, an ice-
house, two cases of champagne ; sixteen of cigars ; all
neck-cloths2 but white; all hats but black; small talk
without oaths, and broad talk with great ones, cooled
with ice and made red hot with brandy and smoke ; all
four-in-handers ; all trying to tool 'em ; none able to
drive ; but all able to go with the tongue.

' My Suffolk two-wheeler was placed near a party of
this sort ; and had I the pen of an Irving, or the humour
of a Mathews, something might be made of the scene ;

1 Reverse this phrase, and you have, alas ! a description of the stage
coach of the present day.

■ Why should a neckcloth be called a tie ? Who made the noun of the
verb to tie, and what's the sense ?

92 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

but alas ! I can only paint lithographically, slight in
touch, wanting light and shade. An Oxford slap-bang,
loaded in London; Windsor Blues, freighted at Reading;
Reading coaches, chuck full at Dorking ; a Mile-End
coach-waggon (parish fashion) full of those who, if justice
was done to them, would be left en passant in better
keep than by going back to Bow ; German coaches ;
Hanoverian cars; Petersburg sledges and Phactonces',
St. James's cabs ; ' Bull and Mouth ' barouches, waggoned
by Exeter coachmen ; gentlemen's drags adorned with
larking blades. Some horsed by themselves and some
by their friends, one or two well driven, but the majority

d d bad ! I only drive two galloways, with reins in

both hands, and whip over the shoulder ; am therefore,
poor in judgment, although bare-faced in opinion, and,
John Bull like, will have one ; and what's more, will
write it ; and as I am quite an unknown in fashion and
coaching, perfectly fearless of pistols. It was both novel
and amusing to hear Oxford boys talk. " By G — d !

there's Stanhope, Paulett, Jones, Payne, Lord , and,

damme that lathy chap Stevy — four greys and red roses!
You talk of good ones, they're all humbugs in com-
parison. Put him behind a scratch team, or watch him
on the Defiance, or ask old Thomaso ; he's quite right,
depend on't. My stars! did you see him on Tuesday?
He would not be said nay to; flying through the park;
serving them out right and left, and with a heavy load,
made his ground good in great style. They say he had
a bit of a scramble from a bull-headed wheeler at Houns-
low ; but his hands and his eyes were like lightning, and

ASCOT. 93

with double thong well timed, brought all straight ! "
His friend Paulett stared and so did his guests.

' All this made me afterwards watch this youngster,
and I confess he pleased me much. There's an ease, a
total absence of affectation, a nerveless confidence, an
extraordinary facility of hands (without any of that pretty
sort of shifting and twirling in white gloves), which
mark him at once to profess a thorough knowledge of his
art aided by nature, with sufficient grace to stamp him
elegant. I wish much for his acquaintance, that I may
learn to work with one hand, and how to carry the tool.

' No place, no amusement, no holiday making, is so
enchanting to the softer sex. Gentle and simple, grave
and gay— all are on tip-toe of joy, and out jumps nature
from both ends— eyes and feet, lords, ladies, tastily
costumed, with roses and lilies untainted, or rather,
unpainted by Bond Street ; farmers' daughters and
farmers' wives sparkling in silks, pleased with their
friends' shorts and white tops, rosy in cheek, tinted by
soft breezes and bottled ale ; parasols for the sun, and
ogling eyes for the parasols : olla podrida (a l'Espagnolle)
here has its reign. Royalty, aristocracy, no exception
in rank or station, thieves and justices ; spendthrifts and
misers, gamesters from high hell and low hell ; the Stock
Exchange to the Regent's Park ; gentlemen aping lords,
and lords aping grooms, music without harmony, glee
singers with hoarse throats, waltz-dancing in six-feet
stilts, boxers, with peering eyes, coming it strong for a

cross, jockeys mum in speech, but d d sly in looks ;

horse-dealers and horse-stealers, gipsies to tell your

94 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

fortune, and pick-pockets to ease you of it ; ladies bur-
thened with virtue, and ladies much lighter without;
mothers watching to catch and daughters hoping to
handle ; so on, ad infinitum!

Patroclus winds up his very graphic description with
the following loyal toast. Put 'Queen' for ' King,' and
it's as good a one as ever.

A bumper of Burgundy fill, fill for me —

Give those who prefer it Champagne ;

But whatever the wine, it a bumper must be,

If we e'er drink a bumper again.

Now, now when the cares of the day are thrown by,

And all man's best feelings possess him,

The glow of the heart gives joy to the eye,

Here's a health to the King — God bless him !

THE GREAT WESTERN ROAD. 95

CHAPTER XIX.

THE GREAT WESTERN ROAD.1

Of the splendid travelling along- one of the most important
lines of coach road in the kingdom, the Great Western
road, the following details with reference especially to
the performances of the ' Telegraph ' and the ' Quick-
silver ' mail-coaches, have been furnished me by a friend.
I may just state in the first place that ' The Quicksilver
mail,' commonly called ' The Devonport,' running to
Exeter, 175 miles from London, did the journey in
eighteen hours. It passed through Wincanton (a new
route). A lamp was carried on each side of the coach,
and one under the footboard.

' I am old enough,' says my friend, ' to remember the
days of " the road " well, when our journey from Exeter
to London was very different from what it is now. We
then thought it very wonderful (as it really was) to go
either in the " Ouicksilver " mail in eighteen hours, or in

1 A most invaluable book for travellers by road through England is
' Paterson's Roads,' in which you will find every road (turnpike and cross)
described with distances, inns, etc., together with notes of all places worth
speaking of that are passed on or near to the road. It is a book difficult to
obtain, being, I believe, out of print, but, with the exception of the inns, which
have (some of them) changed, it is the only standard work of its kind, and
is really a book no dragsman should be without.

96 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

the " Telegraph " day coach in seventeen hours. The
former went from Devonport to London, and by a road
five or six miles longer than that by which the " Tele-
graph," a more recently established coach, went from
Exeter to London. The "Telegraph" used to leave
London at 5.30 in the morning, every day except Sunday
throughout the year, and reached Exeter at 10.30 in
the evening very regularly : so regularly that the people
working in the fields used to be seen setting their
watches by it. It also left Exeter every day at five
o'clock in the morning (Exeter time, i.e. about 5.15
London time), and reached London at ten in the evening
Exeter time. This was wonderful going, seventeen
hours, including all stoppages, and breakfast and dinner
about twenty minutes each. We used to call the distance
by the " Telegraph " road 1 70 miles, but I see, looking
at " Paterson's Roads," it is called 164^ miles. But that
would be from the outskirts of Exeter to Hyde Park
Corner, whereas the time went from the London Inn
at Exeter to the White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly. There
were four coachmen who drove the coach every day, the
two middle men meeting on the road and changing
coaches, and the two startino- men driving in the evening
coach at night, one of the two middle men used to drive full
100 miles every day ; he drove somewhat farther than
any of the others, but the two middle men had of course
the prime of the day, and all at once, without darkness
in the winter. It used to cost us then 3/. 10s. and 3/.
inside, and 2/. io-s-. and 2/. outside, one way costing
more than the other, I forget why. I have given these par-

THE GREAT WESTERN ROAD. 97

ticulars of the " Telegraph," because I travelled much
oftener by that coach than by the " Quicksilver " mail, and
knew more about it. The " Telegraph " used to go by
Andover, Amesbury, Deptford Inn, and across Salis-
bury Plain, by Wincanton, Ilchester, and Ilminster, which
was reckoned the shortest way. The " Quicksilver "
went by Salisbury, Shaftesbury, Sherborne, Yeovil,
Crewkerne, and Chard, a few miles longer, and more in
the dark. The same guard went all the way in the
" Telegraph." It was hard work for both coachmen and
guards.'

Between Bagshot and Basingstoke you pass over
Star Hill, very dangerous ground for fast coaches, there
being two shoots upon it. Ten miles in fifty minutes
was the time allowed on this ground ; and on Harford
Bridge flat will be found the best five miles for a coach
in twenty-three minutes.

The mails for the western counties were brought from
the General Post Office in the City to their coaches at
the Gloucester Coffee House in Piccadilly,1 in carts
drawn by fast-trotting blood horses, and the bags were
given over to the mail guards there. The Bristol,
Exeter, and Bath mails started at seven in the evening.
Most stages down these roads started from Hatchett's,
1 The White Horse Cellar.'

' Travelling one night by the Bath mail, and going
at the usual terrific pace over that level six miles be-

1 See the excellent coloured engraving representing these mails preparing
to start in front of the Gloucester Coffee House (on its site is now the St.
James's Hotel), from a picture by James Pollard.

II

98 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

tween Hounslow and Staines, a place which from the
team being called upon to go at such a high rate of
speed, and many lives being thereby lost, earned for
itself the name of the hospital ground, the dust almost
blinding us from the little light there was, I fancied,'
says my friend, relating the story, ' I heard a shout
ahead, which I afterwards found I was right in assuming
came from the guard of the Bristol mail, just in front of
us. One moment more and we came to a sudden stop
by our leaders falling, and the main bar unhooking itself.
The wheelers passed over the leaders as they lay, and
when I picked myself up — for I was half thrown off — I
found the leaders under the splinter-bar. A flock of
sheep had been frightened by the mail in front of us,
and had stood stock still in the middle of the road and
we had run into them: there were several lying dead on
the ground. Backing the coach, we got our leaders
safely out, and the damages being repaired — a matter
well understood in those days — we finished our stage
and reported cheap mutton for the morrow for them.'

On this road there were, besides the mail, ' The Regu-
lator,' which ran through Devizes, and the ' York House '
of which stage-coach the Duke of Beaufort writes as
follows: — 'Jack Sprorson and Jem Adlam drove this
coach from London to Marlborough one day, and back
the next, meeting near Newbury, about fifty-two or fifty-
three miles out of London. Old Edwards, I think this
was his name, brought the coach up from Bath in the
morning to breakfast at Marlborough, and took it back
at night after tea to Bath. It is 107^ miles : 32J from

THE GREAT WESTERN ROAD, 99

Bath to Marlborough, and 74^ on to London. They
dined both up and down at Mrs. Botham's, the " Pelican,"
at Speenham Land or Newbury, and out of London break-
fasted at Botham's, the "Windmill," at Salt Hill. They
left both ends at 7 a.m. and did the journey under eleven
hours — about ten and a half hours. The " York House "
struggled on even after the Great Western Railroad was
opened, running to Haylane near Wotton Bassett. After
it was knocked off the road, that first-rate coachman,
Sprorson, set up a coach from Devizes to Reading,
and earned his living. He stuck to it as long as
he could, and always had the goodwill of his neigh-
bours and passengers. Sprorson and Adlam are still
alive, the former is managing a club at Leeds or Brad-
ford.'

Shackell's coaches to Reading were well patronised.
On the Exeter road, besides the ' Quicksilver,' or
Devonport mail, and the ' Telegraph,' ran the ' Exeter
Subscription,' from the ' Bull and Mouth,' and the
'Cornet.' Also the 'Herald,' a day coach from the
'Saracen's Head,' Snow Hill.

The old and light Salisbury coaches did well on this
road, and so did Monk's coach to Basingstoke.

In 1836 the fastest coaches (known as the crack
coaches) were those running between

London and Brighton, 51 J miles in 5^ hours.

,, Shrewsbury, 154 miles in 15 hours.

„ Exeter, 171 miles in 17 hours.

,, Manchester, 187 miles in 19 hours.

,, Holyhead, 261 miles in 26 hrs. 55 mins.

H 2

loo ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

London and Liverpool, 203 miles in 20 hours 50
minutes.

On one occasion the Devonport mail (the ' Quick-
silver') travelling- with foreign and colonial letters, accom-
plished the journey of 216 miles, including stoppages, in
21 hours and 14 minutes.

The guard of the Devonport mail, who had travelled
with it on December 27, 1836, from Ilminsterto London,
a distance of 140 miles, stated that the journey was a most
trying one to both men and cattle. The storm commenced
when they reached Wincanton, and never afterwards
ceased. The wind blew fresh, and in crossing the plains
the snow and sleet drove in their faces so as almost to
blind them. Between Amesbury and Andover two pairs
of leaders were employed instead of the usual pair, for here
the snow-drifts were mountainous, and the drifting would
have turned the coachman's leaders. Between Andover
and Whitchurch the mail stuck fast in one of the snow-
drifts, and the horses, then driven by the coachman, in
attempting to get it out were nearly buried.

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COACHING ON MAY DAY. 101

CHAPTER XX.

COACHING ON MAY DAY. BEARING REINS.

May Day was the great day for stage- coaches to race
against time, and some of them with that object in view
carried no passengers. From the ' Country Mercury '
(May 8, 1830) we learn that — 'Saturday being May
Day, the usual competition took place between the
London coaches.' The 'Independent Tallyho,' which
ran between London and Birmingham, performed a feat
altogether unparalleled in the annals of coaching, having
travelled the distance of 109 miles in 7 hours and 39
minutes ; thus far surpassing the feat of the ' Quicksilver,'
mentioned in the preceding chapter. The following is
the correct account of the time it took to perform the
distances horsed by the various proprietors : —

Mr. Home, from London to Colney, 17^ miles, in
1 hour 6 minutes.

Mr. Bowman, from Colney to Redburn, 17^ miles, in
1 hour 26 minutes (6 minutes for breakfast).

Mr. Morrell, Redburn to Hockcliffe, 12J miles, in
1 hour 4 minutes.

Mr. Warden, Hockcliffe to Shenley, 11 miles, in
47 minutes.

io2 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Mr. May, Shenley to Daventry, 24 miles, in 1 hour
49 minutes.

Mr. Garner, Daventry to Coventry, 1 9^ miles, in
1 hour 12 minutes ; Coventry to Birmingham, 1 ;| miles,
in 1 hour 15 minutes.

The original ' Tally-ho ' performed the same distance
in 7 hours 50 minutes.

On May Day, 1838, the Shrewsbury 'Greyhound'
with no passengers except a friend or two of the proprie-
tors, accomplished the distance from London at the rate
of twelve miles an hour including stoppages !

Numerous complaints were made from time to time
about the almost general practice of stage-coaches — day
coaches especially — not carrying guards. ' Securitas,'
writing in 1827, says, that it is his earnest wish the
addition of a guard to every stage coach may ere long
become prevalent. How the coachmen managed with-
out a guard seems now a mystery.

On the subject of bearing-up coach horses ' The
Old Forester ' writes as follows :■ — ' There is no place
where Nimrod is more at home than on the coach-box,
and I see with pleasure he has resumed the subject of
" the road."

' On the subject of " bearing reins," I quite agree with
him. It is not only a relief to the arm of the driver, but
to the horse himself in a long journey. The look of a
thing goes a great way in England, and no man who
wishes to turn out well would dispense with the bearing
rein. One of your correspondents thinks horses will go safer
without the bearing rein, and brings in the Continental prac-

BEARING REINS. 103

tice as proof. I also have been on the Continent a good
deal, and have seen the fallacy of that argument. I have
also travelled a good deal in mails and fast coaches, and
never yet saw a horse fairly down in one of them. I have
seen awheel horse sometimes all but down, and only kept on
his legs by a bearing rein. In posting in France and Italy,
I have seen horses fairly down ; and about four years ago,
between St. Denis and Paris, in a diligence, I saw all five
horses down together. Luckily it was on level ground,
or we should have had all our necks broken. The very
reason the French postilion gives for wearing those
enormous jack-boots is to save the rider s leg in case of
his horse falling on him.

' That such is frequently the case is proved by their
using those boots still. Some time ago I was travelling
in a diligence, and remonstrating with the co7iducteur —
Anglice guard — on the absurdity of those enormous boots.
Presently, in crossing a check of the road, the near
wheeler tripped, and his rider not holding him up, down
he came. The postilion quietly slipped his leg out of the
boot, none the worse for the weight of the horse on it.
" There's for you," said the Frenchman ; " if that postilion
had been dressed as an English post-boy his leg would
have been broken." "True," I exclaimed, "but then an
English post-boy would not have allowed his horse to
fall with hint? '

Jo4 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE BRIGHTON ROAD.

Of the London and Brighton road — perhaps the most
nearly perfect, and certainly the most fashionable, of all
coaching roads (a fashion which, like the top boot, never
changes), it would be unpardonable not to give some de-
tails. I therefore present to my readers, in this and the
following two chapters, an interesting account of coach-
men and guards employed on it about forty or fifty years
ago, which was contributed to the pages of the ' Sporting
Magazine' in 1828, by an able writer whose nom dc
plume was ' Viator Junior.'

' Great as the improvement made in modern travelling
has everywhere been, it has on no road been more con-
spicuous than on that between Brighton and the Metro-
polis. Twenty years ago the quickest coaches never
performed the journey in less than nine hours and a half,
or ten hours ; and, although still a young man, I can
perfectly remember my father relating as an exploit that
he had posted on a most particular and express occasion
to his own door, four miles short of London, in eight
hours. It is needless to tell your readers that every coach
now runs ixovc\. yard X.o> yard in seven, and some of them,

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. 105

the quickest, in less than six hours. It is not at all un-
usual to see Mr. Snow's "Dart" at the "Elephant and
Castle " at a quarter past eleven, having- left Brixton at
six ; and several others — Goodman's coaches and the
" Item," for instance — keep the same time.

' Within my recollection the Brighton road was always
a good one ; but from the innumerable improvements
made on it during the last ten or twelve years, it is now
as close to perfection, and very nearly as much shortened,
as it ever can be. On neither of the new lines of roads
is there occasion more than twice or thrice for the drae
chain, even by the most stiff-necked team ; and the old
road, with the exception of Reigate and Clay ten Hills,
(which are certainly puzzlers for a fresh catched one to
take a load either up or down), is equally free from diffi-
culty or danger, and both are capitally hard and good for
wheels at all seasons of the year.

' This excellence of the roads, however, has produced
one defect, — it has nearly annihilated the breed of coach-
men between Brighton and London. Out of a list of
forty-five that I have now before me, who are regularly
at work, there are not more than seven or eight who are
worth looking at as real artists — workmen who can " hit
'em and hold 'em." And I could name more than one
or two of the lot who are, even on such a road as this,
unfit to be trusted with the lives of their passengers, and
totally incompetent to take along a heavy load in safety
at the pace at which their coaches are timed. This very
day I saw one of " the awkward squad" keep his coach
on her legs by pure accident in bringing her with a heavy

io6 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

load round the corner by the King's Stables ; and as his
attitude was rather good, I'll endeavour to describe it.
His bench was very low, and he himself is rather a tall
man : his legs tucked under him as far as possible, were
as wide apart as if he was across one of his wheels ; both
hands had hold of the reins, which, though perfectly slack,
were all but within his teeth ; his whip was stuck beside
him (in general, however, it is hanging down between
his wheel horses about the middle of the foot board),
and, to complete the picture, his mouth was gaping wide
open, like Curran's Irishman endeavouring to catch the
English accent. South of York I have not often seen
this man's fellow ; but surely Providence must keep a
most especial guard over him ; for I understand he has
worked for some years on the same coach without an
accident. And judging from appearances, it is a daily
miracle that he gets to his journey's end.

' Not long ago too, I had the fortune of witnessing, as
a passenger, one or two hairbreadth escapes on one of
the professedly flash afternoon coaches. First or last, I
never saw a fellow with more conceit and less knowledge
of the art than our self-styled coachman. And I could
not help thinking it a great pity to have deprived the shop-
board of his services to expose him on the bench. We
were very near having a case with our first team out of
Brighton. Both his wheel horses were bad holders, and
the leaders (both of them thoroughbred) were impatient
and fidgety at the rattling of the bars, and could not be
kept — at least my friend could not keep them — out of a
canter. He put his chain on down the hill by New

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. 107

Timbers, and all was right enough ; but being too busy
with his cigar (the march of intellect !), he let his team get
well on the crown of the hill, just above his change, before
he attempted to pull up. The consequence was they
could not be stopped ; and away we went. I have no
hesitation in saying, with a top-heavy load, or with any-
thing like a ditch at hand, nothing could have saved us
from being floored ; for from his awkward pulling and
hauling at them (he had his reins clubbed into the bargain),
instead of keeping his coach steady in the middle of the
road, we were alternately in the watercourse on each
side, and we pulled up at last only in consequence of
the horses crettino- to their own stable door. In his next

o o

team a little fanning was necessary. And Dominie
Sampson himself could not have made a more diabolical
attempt at hitting a near leader. I can scarcely, however,
expect to be believed, when I tell you that he actually hit
his off-side passenger on the roof behind him every time
he endeavoured to hit his off-side wheel horse. Such
nevertheless was the fact. But to cut a long story short,
we got to London safe and sound in rather more than
six hours, having been in jeopardy of our lives the whole
time.

• Now I would not have you imagine, Mr. Editor, that
I am more nervous on a coach box than my neighbours :
on the contrary, having been much attached to, and
worked a great deal on ^}le road ever since I was the
height of a whip, I have no reason to be so ; but I must
confess that with such "impostors" (as Bill Williams
used to call them) it is rather nervous work, and I think

io8 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

no coachmaster is warranted in committing the lives of
his customers, the public, to such incompetent hands.
I shall keep my eye on one or two of these " Flying
Brightons," and if there is not an alteration, and an im-
provement too before long, I will show up the delinquents,
both master and servant, by name.

' There is a very old and good servant of the public
still at work on this road, whose long and praiseworthy
career deserves to be recorded. His name is Hine;
and although never a first-rate performer, he has been, as
far back as I can remember, from his constant sobriety,
civility and steadiness, the chief favourite (especially
with families) on the old Reigate and Clayton road.
When I first knew him, full twenty years ago, he had
been for a oreat length of time on Orton and Bradford's
coach — which gradually declined after he left it — out of
" the Bull " yard, Holborn, and it is only within the last
fourteen years that he has turned " Rioter" (as Ned
Burford used to call it) on the coach which he now
drives, the " Alert," and a capital coach it is. I should
be happy to take an even bet that he has carried more
families for the last ten years than any other three coach-
men out of Brighton ; and I am delighted to see the old
man still in good health and feathering his nest so
comfortably.

' Goodman's " Times " and " Regent " are among the
best horsed coaches going, and, from what I can see,
have- their full share of business. Sam, however, him-
self, though a tolerable coachman, is not to be named
in the same day with Mr. Snow. But it must be allowed

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. 109

that few can equal, and none, not even Peer himself, or
Bill Williams, can excel this great artist. It is quite
a treat to compare his perfect ease and elegant attitude
on his box in turning out of the " Spread Eagle" yard,
in Gracechurch Street, with the uncouth feature, and
awkward catchinofs and clawingfs of some of his brethren,
his own man, Ned Russell, for instance. Ned, however,
once started over London Bridge, is not worse than
some of his neighbours.

' Gray, on the " Regent," is a very fair, steady coach-
man. I remember him, fourteen or fifteen years ago,
on a very seedy concern, called the " Princess of Wales,"
through Horsham ; and having had my eye a good deal
on him since that period, I have no hesitation in pro-
nouncing him a very efficient coachman, and a most ex-
cellent servant in every respect. Mosely too, who used
to be against him on the same road on the " Duke of
Norfolk," and is now at work on Goodman's " Midday
Times," is nothing less than a very capital performer.

' Of Mr. Stevenson, as I have never seen enough of
him at work to enable me to judge, 1 shall of course say
nothing ; but he has the reputation of being a good
coachman, and I wish him success. He is warmly
patronised by the public ; which, I am sorry to say, has
had the effect of creating a good deal of illiberality and
jealousy against him with some of the other coachmen ;
and I took the liberty of giving one of them, with whom
I was travelling the other day, a good jawbation for his
selfishness and impertinence.

' As I hold all safety patents about coaches exceed-

no ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

ingly cheap, I have not given myself the trouble of
examining "Cook's Patent Life Preserver," which is fitted
to Mr. Gray's " Bolt-in-Tun" coach the " Patriot ;" but I
will relate a rather good anecdote of an incident of which
I was a witness a few days ago. Just as Pickett was
starting with his " Union ' coach out of Holborn, up
comes a fussy old citizen, purring and blowing like a
grampus : " Pray, coachman, is this here the patriotic Life
Preserver Safety coach ? " " Yes, sir," says Pickett, not
hearing above half of his passenger's question. " Room
behind, sir ; jump up, if you please ; very late this
morning." " Why, where's the machinery ? " cries the
old one. " There, sir," replied a passenger (a young-
Cantab I suspect), pointing to a heavy trunk of mine that
was swung underneath. " In that box, sir; that's where
the machinery works." " Ah," quoth the old man, climb-
ing up quite satisfied, " wonderful inventions now-a-days,
sir. We shall all get safe to Brighton ; no chance of
an accident by this coach ! ' Doubtless it would have
been no very difficult task to have persuaded this old
fool that we were going by steam ; lor the day was wet,
and the cigars were smoking most merrily in front all
the road down.

' Few of your readers, I dare say, have an idea of
the money that is annually dropped on this favourite
road. There are at this moment (in the height of the
season) twenty-four coaches (including the mail) out of
Brighton, with a corresponding number out of London,
every day. Now, at a moderate computation, sixteen
of these at least are kept on through the winter ; and

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. m

they must each of them earn, the whole year through,
10/. daily, to earn anything like their expenses up and
down. These sixteen permanent coaches alone, there-
fore, must receive nearly 60,000/. a year merely to keep
them going ; and the eight butterflies, as I have heard
them called, or summer coaches for six months, must
earn nearly 15,000/. more. Looking, however, at the
lowness of my calculation as to expense, and at the
excellent waybills that most of them carry, both summer
and winter, I am quite satisfied that, including gratuities
to coachmen, etc., not a farthing less than 100,000/. per
annum is spent by the public between Brighton and
London ; and for the sake of the wheels, for which I
have always been a staunch advocate, I wish it were
twice as much.

' Taking up a newspaper a few days ago, I was very
sorry to observe the death of Mr. Home, the largest
proprietor by far in England, and one of the best that
ever put a horse to public conveyance. The public has
sustained a great loss by his decease ; for he conducted
the whole of his immense concern in a most creditable
and spirited manner ; and his coaches, taken altogether,
were better horsed than those into any other yard in
London, my old ally Mrs. Nelson's, being always ex-
cepted. I have not heard what arrangements are likely
to take place, but I should think it will be difficult to
find any one customer with capital sufficient to take to
the whole of his various establishments, amounting as
they do almost to a monopoly of the best roads out of
London.

ii2 ANXALS OF THE ROAD.

' On looking over what I have written I find that
I have omitted noticing what I hear is a very steady,
quiet, good coach, namely, George Sherwood's "Magnet."
I have not seen much of it personally, except into Loudon ;
but I must do Sherwood the justice to say, that on that
ground at least he is most magnificently horsed, and I
like the appearance of his coach, altogether, very much.
Long, therefore, may the " Magnet" continue to attract!'

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. 113

CHAPTER XXII.

THE BRIGHTON ROAD {fOUtintied^

1 In my last letter to you I pulled up, I think, on
George Sheward's " Magnet ; " and the time allowed
for washing out our mouths being now expired, I
proceed once more to take hold of my whip and
reins, and •' wag on " another yard or two,1 on the
same coach. I am sorry, however, to say that my
" bill ' is but a short one, and still more sorry to
observe that for some time past it has been but too
often the case ; and that this very quick and capitally
horsed coach has fallen off for the last two months
most lamentably and unaccountably. Unaccountable
it certainly appears, for no drag at the same hour
is turned out better, if so well. The time is accurately
kept ; the fares are the same as all its neighbours ;
the coach itself affords the same accommodation for
passengers ; yet, although all this, and more, is done
for the satisfaction of the public, it carries decidedly
the worst loads by far of anything out of Brighton or

1 ' A favourite expression of Ned Burford (of whom I had before spoken
when starting with his coach from the " Cellar " in Piccadilly) — " Now we'll

wag on a yard or two further." '

»

I

H4 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

London at ten o'clock. Were I asked, however, to find
out the loose screw, I should say that, in the first place,
coming out of private stables in London, instead of a
regular public yard, such as the " Cross Keys," " Spread
Eagle," " Bolt-in-Tun," etc. etc., militates very greatly
against every coach that adopts the plan ; as there
cannot be half the power either to form or to hold a
"connection" well together; and chance custom, let the
friends of the proprietor or coachman be ever so nume-
rous, genteel, or zealous, will go but a short way towards
paying the expenses for any great length of time.
Secondly, the perpetual changing and turning back of
the coachmen on the road must have annoyed the pas-
sengers not a little ; and it has, moreover, been the means
of Sheward's losing one of the very best waggoners out
of Brighton — young Cook, who was at last so disgusted
at being thus shifted and bandied about, "between Hell
and Hackney," that he cut the concern, and has taken,
I have reason to believe, by no means a small number of
the " Magnet's " old friends to the " Regulator," on
which he is now at work.

1 Sheward has played his cards very ill in throwing
his trumps out of his hand ; for Cook is not only a first-
rate coachman, but one of the pleasantest fellows to travel
with one can easily meet, and therefore a most dangerous
customer on a cheap opposition, that starts half an-hour
earlier, and runs to the same end of " the village."
Neither am I by any means singular in the opinion that
had Sheward stuck to this one coach, without having
anything to do with the " Age," it would have been better

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. u

both for him and it ; for, in point of fact, the connection is
not large enough for the support of both ; and as the one
robs the other, they neither of them load as they should
do ; and the old proverb " between two stools " is most
unhappily but truly exemplified. Splendidly, indeed,
as his side of the last-mentioned flash concern is worked
all through, and Corinthian as is the tout ensemble of the
turn-out, I cannot conceive that it does more than average
its expenses, if so much ; and on many journeys within
the last month I know that the up-coaches have been
fed very plentifully from the " New Dart." Sheward
knows all this as well as I can tell him, and I hope he
will take in good part what I have said, for he may be
assured he has my best wishes, and that I would gladly
see his coaches doing as well as he himself could desire.
I will conclude by giving him " one hint more." If his
down " Magnet " loads light it is a bad job certainly, but
let him give his stock the benefit of " the chance," and not
wear them out in galloping and hunting them against a
cocktail pair-horse concern that there can be neither
honour nor profit in beating.

' The mention of the " Age" induces me naturally to
speak of Mr. Stevenson. Since I last addressed you I
have had the pleasure of seeing this gentleman at work,
and have seldom, if ever, been more gratified. I am not
aware, to quote a vulgar saying, if he was " born with a
silver spoon in his mouth," but I certainly think he must
have been brought into the world with a whip and reins
in his hand ; for, in point of ease and elegance of exe-
cution as a light coachman, he beats nineteen out of

I 2

n6 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

twenty of the regular working dragsmen into fits, and
as an amateur is only to be approached by two or three
of the chosen few whose names will live for ever in the
annals of the B. D. C. — Sir Henry Peyton and Mr.
Walker, for instance. What he may be with bad and
heavy cattle I will not pretend to say ; but, judging from
the manner in which his teams are put together (and he
has some awkward customers amongst them), I think
nothing could come much amiss to him. I sincerely hope
his side of the " Age " is doing well, and that every one
of the crowd assembled in Castle Square three times a
week to see him start may prove a passenger and a
friend to him all through the winter.

1 In giving you the anecdote about the " Patriot," to
which I was witness on Pickett's " Union," in my last
communication, I omitted to notice his partner Egerton,
who drives the other side of this (now) excellent coach.
In point of manners, deportment, and conversation, he
ranks far above almost all dragsmen with whom I have
at any time travelled ; and if he pursues the same
obliging and unassuming mode of conducting himself (of
which there is little doubt), there is no fear that he will
be as popular on the road, and as much patronised by the
public, as old Hine himself; and this, let me tell him, is
not to be attained by everyone. He was for some time
at workout of the "Spread Eagle" yard, on Chaplin and
Snow's Worthing " Sovereign," and left when he quitted
that coach a good name behind him. No man, indeed,
is more highly spoken of amongst his associates, and it
was only the other day that William Snow was regretting

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. \\7

in my presence that he was not working for their party
instead of being where he now is, and where, I hope and
think, he is doing as well as his best friends could wish.

' As I have mentioned William Snow's name, it may
be as well to " lug in " my opinion of him, as old John
Lawrence would say, as a dragsman. Having heard a
great deal of him as an artist, I took an opportunity
of travelling with him a few days ago on the extra
" Dart," but I am sorry to say I was much disappointed
in his performance, which, considering his reputation as
a coachman, I thought extremely mediocre ; and he
certainly has no pretensions to the character of a first-
rate workman. As to a comparison with his brother Bob
(which I had understood he had no occasion to shrink
from), there is more coachmanship and knowledge of the
art in Robert's little finger than in all William's body put
together, and although a very civil and cheerful fellow to
travel with, I cannot assign him even an " Exeter class "
in the " honours " of dragsmanship, but must rank him
only amongst the " vulgar herd," as we used to say at
Oxford.

' Before I dismiss the name of Snow, let me express
my very great pleasure at the way in which the whole of
Bob's coaches — the " Dart," " Comet," and " Sovereign "
— have been loading this season ; and if he takes my
advice, he will not kick down any part of what he has
earned with them by continuing his horses on that
suicidal night opposition, the " Evening Star." Both he
and Sam Goodman may rely on it that old Crossweller
does not care one button for the harm it can do the

i iS ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

mail ; and, if they keep it on through the winter, their
monthly accounts will speak pretty plainly for themselves
as to the harm it will do to their own summer earnings.
It will be sure, moreover, to make the " Item " a fixture
on the road ; for, as they well know, this beautifully-
horsed coach is in the hands of a terrible stiff-necked
obstinate party when once offended, and in the winter-
time, when the City swells are behind their counters and
" minding the shops," this will be by no means a pointless
thorn in the side of the "Dart" and "New Times."
There is a coachman, by the way, at work on the " Star"
who deserves a better place, and I hope before long that
Bill Penny may be seen once more by daylight, for where
you find one better, you will travel with twenty inferior
performers.

' And here I may observe that, in spite of all that
Nimrod brings forward to justify his predilection for
night work, I cannot persuade myself to view it in the
same favourable colours, or to consider the life of a night
coachman an enviable one for a constancy. It is all very
pleasant for a gentleman on a fine night, either summer
or winter, to work forty or fifty miles on a journey for
business or amusement, (and I have found as much de-
light in doing so as any man, and have often abandoned
my claret for the coach box, as poor Skinner, on the
Glasgow mail, from Boroughbridge to Doncaster, if alive,
and his partner, could testify). But when we take into
the account the perpetual privation of natural repose (for
no man, as the Irishman says, can get a good night's rest
by day), and the ravages on the constitution produced by

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. 119

it and incessant exposure to the worst vicissitudes of
weather at the worst periods, the damps and fogs and
" peltings of the storm " which these poor fellows have
constantly to endure in darkness, and sometimes almost
in solitude, with no one but the guard and " the mad
woman " about the coach, to say nothing of the teams —
blind ones, bow-kickers, and cripples of every description
unfit to show by day — that not a few of them have to
drive, and the rotten reins and worn-out harness that
some proprietors, to their eternal shame, persist in keep-
ing at work in the dark ; when we consider all this, I
repeat, we shall not find much to envy in the situation of
a night coachman. " There is balm in Gilead," however,
as Nicol Jarvie observes ; and where the guard and
coachman have pulled well together, I have seen in my
time an infinity of fun and lark upon the road between
supper and breakfast. One night in particular on the
Dover mail — but this, and another anecdote or two of
night work (in which I shall not forget my friend George
Cooper on the York " Highflyer"), I must reserve for a
future opportunity, and get back meantime to the neigh-
bourhood of the Steyne.'

i2o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XXIII.
the Brighton road {concluded),

' I have already spoken of the " Regulator," not so, how-
ever, of the office from which it starts. By some of the
dragsmen about Brighton it is called (and not inappropri-
ately) " The Beehive," being the place that gives birth to
the swarm of cheap concerns, and an elegant lot; take them
altogether, they certainly are ! As I do not profess to be
the historian of " pair-horse coaches,"" I shall waste but
few words on the " Royal Exchange" and " Hero ; " observ-
ing only that one of them (the first, I believe) was, and,
for aught I know to the contrary, still is, horsed out of
Brighton by a dealer of the name of Hayler, or Hamer —
no bad judge, it would appear, of the value of the old
saying "short accounts make long friends," for every
night after the coach comes in he draws the "blunt," or no
" flesh" is forthcoming the next morning. To the Adonis
of " The Beehive," old Tommy (on Mr. Stevenson's late
coach the " Coronet "), in his white castor, it would take a
far abler pen than mine to do justice. I shall make my
bow to him, therefore, with the remark, that I believe
him to be a very excellent judge of stock (would he not
be therefore better placed on the " Exchange ?") and that if

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. 121

his passengers are at any time displeased with him, they
must be guilty of the most gross ingratitude in the world ;
for he shows them, beyond a doubt, the most extra-
ordinary countenance of any man on the road. Mr.
Genn's old servant, Charles Newman, drives, and I be-
lieve horses, part of the other side of this concern ; but
were it not to notice his coach — I had almost written —
I should pass him over sub silentio ; as it gives me no
pleasure to find fault, and it is out of my power to com-
pliment him on his performance as a dragsman, which,
considering the number of years he has been at it, is but
a slovenly piece of business, and, meet him whenever you
will, his horses are never in hand as they should be. Let
me, however, give him his due. I have ridden with him
more than once (not on his present coach) and always
found him exceedingly civil, obliging, and good-tempered;
and I believe his career has been singularly fortunate so
far as regards the chapter of accidents. The drag he
is just now at work upon, his own fancy, I am given to
understand, is certainly a most extraordinary one, con-
sidering the "march of intellect" on the road as elsewhere;
being built — though on some fantastic new-fangled con-
struction— on the old principle of six in and twelve out,
very roomy, high and lofty from the ground, and alto-
gether as heavy in appearance and reality as the old
waggons of fifty years back. If I mistake not, they
advertise it to run in six hours ; but in my opinion the
cattle have yet to be foaled that will keep this time with
it three journeys together.

' If in anything that I have remarked I seem to

122 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

underrate the merits of " The Beehive " and its econo-
mists, I beg pardon very sincerely for so doing. But
having an unhappy prejudice against cheap articles in
general, of all cheap things in this world, " except cheap
wine," I hold cheap coaches in the greatest and most
particular abomination ; and whenever I see the words
" cheap travelling " posted up at the door of an office, I
always feel disposed involuntarily to add " and nasty "
to the advertisement. I recognised the other day a well-
known face on the " Royal Clarence," through Horsham
and Kingston, and found on enquiry that it belonged to
" The Holmes," brother to my old acquaintance Chris-
topher of Oxford, one of the largest country proprietors
going, and the sharpest thorn that old Costar ever had
or will have in his side. Will Mr. Goodman forgive me
if I tell him that I looked twice before I could believe
the evidence of my eyes, that it bore the name of the pro-
prietor of the " Regent " and " New Times" ! Holmes
and his son are both at work on this coach, but I certainly
cannot compliment them on the appearance of their cattle,
into Brighton at least, and if Mr. Goodman remembers
some observations he once made at a coach dinner at
Huntingdon about one of the " Stamfords," on which he
and I were travelling, he will find them apply pretty
closely to this namechild of the late Lord High Admiral.
I should observe that Holmes himself takes the " Clarence"
from Horsham to Kingston, and having lately had an
opportunity of comparing his stock with that of his
partner into Brighton, I was not a little struck with the
difference of condition ; but twelve miles an hour over

THE BRIGHTON ROAD. 123

Mr. Goodman's ground, and four and a half over his
own, will account for anything.

' I find I must once more retrace my steps to the
office, No. 52 East Street, having hitherto omitted all
notice of poor old Hine's partner, a very deserving
young man of the name of Bristow, who, from being
a partner in the establishment, has raised himself
within the last few years to the situation of coach-
man and proprietor on the " Alert." He and the ever-
green old veteran, horse it between them up to Reigate,
from which Mr. Grace of Sutton, I believe, takes it to
the village of that name, and thence Mr. Home into the
"Old Bell" yard, Holborn. I cannot speak very inti-
mately of Bristow's performance, but I believe him to be
a fair coachman, and he appears uncommonly strong and
powerful on his box.

' Of the artists of " the Blue Office " it is not, of
course, my intention to speak, having travelled with but
one of them, who is now at work, and of him I have
aheady recorded my opinion. I may say, however, that
Mr. Crossweller's coaches in general are capitally horsed.
He has, indeed, the reputation of doing his work as well
as any man out of Brighton, and I think it must be a
fastidious eye that could find much fault with the speci-
mens of his stock that I haveseen in the " Item," " Rocket,"
&c, &c. He bears, moreover, amongst the servants a
most excellent character, and I have had good reason to
believe is a very worthy man, as well as one of the best
horse-masters in Christendom.

' I cannot conclude this article (and my paper reminds

124 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

me speedily to do so) without once more adverting to the
merits of a coach I have already named, the "New Dart.''
Believe me, gentle reader, it is one of the very best on
the road ; and let me counsel you by no means to omit
travelling this autumn with both George Deere and Ned
Pattenden ; for it would, I assure you, be a service of con-
siderable difficulty to find two better dragsmen or more
obliging fellows out of any yard, not in Brighton alone,
but the whole of London. I hope the proprietors intend
to keep both sides on during the winter, as it will be a
thousand pities to throw such artists out of regular em-
ployment ; and working alternate weeks, which, if one
side is dropped, I suppose they will be obliged to do, is
hardly sufficient (in winter) to make the pot boil, and not
at all commensurate with the deserts of either one or the
other.

' Your patience, Mr. Editor, I should think must now
be at an end. I beg your forgiveness for having tres-
passed on it so long, and conclude by giving you a list *of
coaches out of Brighton on the ist October, 1828, with
the various hours at which they started for London and
the names of the dragsmen now at work. As a matter of
reference it may hereafter be interesting, and I think you

will find it perfectly correct.

' Viator Jun.

' P.S. — I must take an early opportunity of travelling
with both Clary and Jordan on that first-rate coach, the
" Comet, " for, from everything that I can learn of them,
they are precisely the sort of artists that Bob Snow, for
the sake of consistency, should have always about him.

THE BRIGHTON ROAD.

125

Names

Offices

Hours

Dragsmen

'Dart' .

18 Castle Square.

6 A.M.

Bob Snow, up and
down.

'Item' .

Blue Coach Office

j)

Mellish,up and down.

' New Times '

Goodman's, Castle

7 A.M.

Sam Goodman, up

Square.

and down.

' Royal Ex-

Beehive, Castle Square.

j>

change '

' Royal Cla-

Goodman's, 52 East

9 A.M.

The Holmes and Son.

rence '

Street.

'Alert' .

» »

11

Hine and Bristow.

' Regulator ' .

Beehive, Castle Square,

9i A.M.

Young Cook and
Adams.

' Comet '

1 8 Castle Square .

IO A.M.

Clary and Jordan.

' Patriot '

7 Castle Square .

11

Harding

'Magnet'

5 Castle Square .

11

Womack and young
Callow.

' Regent '

Goodman's, Castle

IO A.M.

Cray and Goodmans

Square.

Brothers.

' True Blue ' .

Blue Office .

}■>

Mellish and Scriven.

'Ninon'.

52 and 53 East Street .

II A.M.

Pickett and Egerton.

' Age ' .

5 Castle Square .

12 O'CLOCK

Mr. Stevenson

' Coronet '

Beehive, Castle Square.

>J

Old Tommy and C.
Newman.

'New Dart' .

135 North Street, and

»

George Deere and

18 Castle Square.

Ned Pattenden.

'Royal George'

Blue Office .

V

Bugeroll and J. New-
man.

' Rocket '

Blue Office .

2 P.M.

Houldsworth and
young C. Newman.

' Times ' .

Goodman's Office

3 P.M.

Mosely and Ellis.

' Sovereign ' .

18 Castle Square .

>?

Ned Russell, up and
down ; sometimes
W. Snow.

'Hero' .

Beehive, Castle Square.

V

'Evening

18 Castle Square, and

IO P.M.

Penny and Rumble.

Star'

Goodman's.

' Royal Mail '

Blue Office .

y>

Farley and Allen.

N.B. — An extra coach, from iS Castle Square, at eight o'clock every
Saturday morning, driven by William Snow.

' The "Vivid" did its journey in five hours and a
quarter.

' Your readers will observe a blank in the column of
dragsmen opposite to the " Hero" and " Royal Exchange."

126 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

To speak the truth I have never thought it worth my
while to enquire the names of the ''pair-horse" performers ;
but I believe that one Carter has something to do with
the driving of the " Hero," and Hayler's horse-keeper,
perhaps, drives or drove the other.'

That some of the men who acted as Jehus and guards
should have done so through all kinds of weather, proves
that there is something excessively attractive in the life
they lead. The Brighton road has always been especially
fortunate in its choice of aristocratic coachmen. Besides
Sir Vincent Cotton, who drove ' The Age,' the Marquis of
Worcester, father of the present Duke of Beaufort, drove
the 'Beaufort;'1 while the Hon : Fred. Jerningham, a son
of Lord Stafford, drove the Brighton day mail. No fees
were solicited on these coaches ; yet all of them pocketed
their ' tips ' with as much readiness and relish as would
the poorest ' Knight of the Whip.'

1 There is a capital picture, a coloured engraving, of this stage-coach
starting from the West-end < Bull and Mouth ' Coach Office, in Resent
Street Circus, Piccadilly.

SI R JOHN FAGG. 127

CHAPTER XXIV.

SIR JOHN FAGG.

In addition to the notices of coachmen which I have
already given, I append, as an example of what an
amateur artist should be, the following account of Sir
John Fagg, the Kentish baronet, who died last year, and
who is spoken of by the writer of the notice, signing him-
self ' Amateur,' as a man ' whose whole heart and soul is
centred in the whip.'

' The individual to whom I allude,' says Amateur,1 'is
Sir John Fagg, living within a few miles from Canter-
bury, and who may justly boast of as neat a turn-out as
any in East Kent. The tout ensemble is imposing at the
very first glance. The worthy baronet in his entire
establishment appears to preserve the " modus in
rebus," and to aim after the attainment of a neat equipage
— not a gaudy one. Greys are his favourite colour, and
the resplendent brass, together with the smooth shining
leather, speaks volumes in praise of the industry of his
domestics.

' No small share of labour must be expended in pre-
serving such extreme neatness. The vehicle Sir John is

1 ' Sporting Magazine,' 1826.

i28 ANNALS* OF THE ROAD.

in the habit of driving is a landau, with a dickey or a
rumble-tumble behind, in which sit the two servants,
whose appearance seems to testify that they are by no
means unworthy of such an honour. For the neat
kerseymere breeches, with boot-tops white as snow, are
all of a piece with the rest of the equipage, whilst their
agility and quickness when wanted by their master is a
plain proof that they are of the " right sort." Nothing, I
think, is more disgusting than to see a lazy rascal creep-
ing down from a carriage as if afraid of breaking his
stupid pate, and with mouth wide open hesitating to
perform the wishes of his master.

' How different is the conduct of these agile fellows,
who, when approaching a gate or anything of the kind,
are to be seen jumping with readiness from their seats,
although their master may be tooling away at the rate of
ten miles an hour. Sir John, I understand, is a good
master, and thus it is that his servants are so attentive
to his wishes. In short, that which by others would be
considered a toil, is to them a pleasure.

' Sir John Fagg has a great partiality to cattle of a
moderate size, deeming horses of about fifteen hands one
or two inches more capable of going the pace than others
of a larger stamp. I think that he has proved his
opinion to be a true one, not only from theory, but from
practice ; for his team, which now consists of small horses,
can do their nine or ten miles an hour, and keep on at
the same rate without any appearance of fatigue. Indeed
he preserves his cattle in such rare condition that with
great difficulty are they to be " sewn up." He drives

SIX JOHN FAGG. 129

mares or geldings just as they may chance to come in
his way, and he has the science of putting them together
in a proper style. As a naval officer manning his vessel
for a voyage would not presume to leave the port till
every, even the least, article was provided ; so neither
would the worthy baronet think of mounting his box till
every buckle, every rein, was drawn together in its
proper place. Thus it is that he is capable of holding his
cattle as it were in his little finger. Thus it is that he
astonishes the gaping crowd by his skilful management
and easy workmanship. No one can pronounce that
person a "good whip " who has only been seen jarvey-
ing along a turnpike level road. It is in a crowd where
the point is to be fairly decided ; and certainly anyone
who has had the opportunity of seeing Sir John in this
predicament must be assured of the fact that he is no
mean adept in the art. The worthy baronet, when on
the box, is the entire cut of a coachman : he sits erect,
and appears conscious of the power he possesses over
his team. In the style of his tackle he follows the
system of stage-coach proprietors— chain pole pieces,
rattling bars with a low plain pole, is the order of the
day. His method, indeed, of coupling his horses is a
plain proof that he well knows what is " the thing."
There is a right way and a wrong in every situation of
life, and it appears to be his sole ambition to jarvey on
in the right road. This admirer of " the road " is often
to be seen on " the bench," and appears to make his
cattle work for what they consume. That this principle

K

13°

ANtiALS OF THE ROAD.

of his is good appears from the well-known fact, viz., that
the brightness of his harness is never defaced by soap-
lather, although they may have trotted by fourteen or
fifteen mile-stones at no slow pace. The baronet's own
coachman may also be considered by no means an un-
skilful artist, but he is seldom to be seen on the box, as
Sir John is one of the " right sort," regarding neither
wind nor weather. He, therefore, never allows his
coachman to drive him, but always takes the ribands in
hand, whether wet or dry. Thus it is that he knows the
different qualities of his cattle, and which is the proper
situation for each.

' The present age, I lament to say, is much too
refined. By many persons the gentleman who takes a
delight in the style of his team and in " the rattling of the
bars," is considered a rough unaccomplished clown. But
greatly indeed are they mistaken, for no doubt the
character of the coachman and the polite gentleman may
be blended. Is it not far better for the English gentle-
man to be living at his private domain (which will be the
case with him who takes pleasure in the science of the
whip), and spending his income in his own neighbour-
hood to the benefit and comfort of the poor of his
parish, than to be sauntering in Hyde Park, or wasting
his estate within the walls of a gaming house ? Most
certainly it is. What a happiness it would be for the
country at large if noblemen of the present age would
but be of my opinion ! But, Mr. Editor, times are
changed. I can only say I lament the misfortune, and

SIR JOHN FAGG. 131

wishing long health and happiness to Sir John Fagg and
his friends, remain yours sincerely,

' An Amateur.

'Canterbury, September 25, 1826.'

' Amateur's ' laments over the low estimation in which
the aspirant to the box is held, show the feelings of
those days towards the road as a pastime. How just
are his reflections on the duties of landed proprietors !
Would that the fly-away rush-up-to-town squire of the
present day would take to heart the example of this
Kentish baronet, and have his hair cut (the popular
excuse for going up to London), or do his hunting in his
own county, instead of rushing off to London or
Leicestershire, because forsooth ' everybody else does.'
Perhaps, if he did so, we should hear less of strikes of
labourers and others, which are now unhappily so pre-
valent.

What a heart for driving must Mr. Sackville Gwynne
have had, who died in 1874. We read of him in
the Liverpool papers as ' a remarkable character who
had for some years been well known in the town.' Mr.
Gwynne was the son of Colonel Gwynne, and was con-
nected with an old family who hold estates in Carmar-
thenshire. Some time ago, however, he had some
differences with his family, and, in order to avoid worry
and harassment, he voluntarily exiled himself. For a
long time he drove the Brighton ' Age,' which he horsed
himself in grand style with greys. Later in life he

K 2

132 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

became a cabdriver in Liverpool. In this occupation he
was much liked by his brother whips, and was respectful
but distant to strangers who employed him in his pro-
fessional capacity, although cheerful and pleasant with
friends who saw him at home. He died at the a^e of
seventy-three, and almost up to the day of his death he
mounted the box with the greatest regularity, undeterred
by a painful internal complaint ; nor was his mental
vigour less remarkable than his bodily activity.

The horses attached to the Birmingham Mail {vid
Banbury), on December 26, 1836, ran into a drift of snow
about two miles from Aylesbury, on the London side.
The off leader fell, and got under the pole. The off
leader's rein, two traces, and a splinter bar were broken.
After setting all right they made another effort to get on,
but it was of no use, as the snow got deeper the further
they went. The drift in some places was full a mile
long. It was blowing a perfect hurricane with a fall of
small snow, and the horses shook with extreme cold.
They were therefore taken off, and the guard, W. Price,
brought the ba^s to London on horseback. He rode
one horse himself, and had a led horse carrying the
London bags. Two other horses, with the bye-bags,
were ridden the latter part of the way by post-boys.
They were constantly deviating from the road, and
nothing but a general knowledge of localities, with good
nerve, enabled Price to accomplish the journey. On
reaching London he was in a most distressing state of

en

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P 5,

D u

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A SNOW DRIFT. 133

exhaustion. Hedges, gates, and ditches had in many

instances been cleared.

The coach was eventually dug out, and was drawn,

with its five passengers into Aylesbury by a team of
wao-oron-horses.

13+ ANXALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XXV.

ODE TO DRAGSMEN.

The following verses, which appeared in the ' Sporting
Magazine,' show that champions such as ' H.' were wanted
to support and defend the honours of the bench. ' H.'
thus introduces his ' Ode ' to the editor : —

' Dear Mr. Editor, for you are dear to me, inasmuch
as you have afforded me amusement for many a lazy
hour, more especially when coaching has occupied your
pages, what think you of an olympiad thereon ?

When Greece was free she loved to hear
The bold, triumphant steeds career,
When Pindar deemed his memory dear
Who rode the rapid car.

Olympic Muse ! is this decreed ?
Shall none accord his nobler meed
Who link'd the generous leaders' speed
Before the splinter bar ?

For sure the coachman-hands are few
That wield in style the polished yew,
And onwards, as their horses press,
Restrain their courage, motionless !
The awkward turn, the steepy hill,
Ne'er foil their systematic skill.

ODE TO DRAGSMEh. 135

On them the wintry tempests beat,
And summers pour their fevering heat ;
And yet, as rolls the year away,
They drive their hundred miles a day !

Then why shall busy Blame intrench

On life's delightful things ?
There are who deem the coachman's bench

More pleasant than the king's.

And I maintain (whoso'er it shocks),
The jovial comrade on the box

Is jovial at the board.
List any then the truth to try ?
Beside their bright mahogany,

The deed the proof afford.

Yet some there be (I pity much
The land that ever nurtures such)

Gentility parading,
Who from the ribbons and the whip,
Would every lingering honour strip

And call our art degrading.

Accomplished Nimrod ! Clever Peer,

And Taylor (gentle styled),
What dronish hypocrites are here !

By whom are ye reviled ?
By those cold hearts that never knew
The sparkling, creaming spirits' dew,
When o'er our bumper of champagne
We ride the fox-hunt o'er again,
Whose idleness — that intellectual scab —

Anoints itself with reading ;
Their only vehicle a hackney cab,

Their only pleasure — feeding.

136 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

May tandems crush their monkey brood,

Who spurn the dragsman's skill !
May guards and porters all be rude,

And if they travel still,
Be every lean machiner screw' d

To multiply their ill !

Where most they wish their journey o'er,

May they be stopped at every pot-house door ;

Wherever business bids them go,

May all the coaches travel slow !

And may they journey in their niggard age,

Where guards and coachmen come to kick at every stage.

H.

'Brighton, September 2, 1827.'

MEMORIES AND REGRETS. 137

CHAPTER XXVL

MEMORIES AND REGRETS.

' Many are there who talk of the delights of travelling
in the coaching days of old. They like to recall to mind
the memories of the pleasant summer days they spent
on the box-seat, chatting with the burly coachman, who,
well protected against the possibilities of the weather by
innumerable coats, knew every man and every horse he
met, and could tell all the news of the country round.

' They describe in glowing terms the manner in
which the mail was taken each morning or evening in
the year to the authorised inspector, who examined every
inch from the pole to the hind boot, and who critically
probed and tested the wheels, axles, linch-pins, springs
and glasses : how scrupulously every part was cleaned,
and how every horse was groomed with as much pre-
cision as if he belonged to the stud of a nobleman. We
join in their enthusiasm, and admit that there is much
reason for it, when the scenes thus delineated are con-
nected with many pleasing associations. " All the world
is a stage-coach : it has its insides and its outsides, and
coachmen in their time see much fun." (Old Play.)
Think of the hundred little incidents by the road, the

133 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

wayside changes, the hospitable inn and the fire-side gos-
sipings at nights ; all this makes travelling down the road
enjoyable in a way which many present travellers <annot
understand.

' At eight o'clock p.m. the mail-coach was in all the
" pride and panoply " of authority, with its mettled steeds
"on parade" at St. Martin's-le-Grand, waiting to receive
its bags. Or perhaps it was one of those special occasions
in which all ordinary circumstances were surpassed.
The tidings of a victory had been received, a national foe
had been defeated, and the mail was about to convey the
intelligence to a thousand homes. Instead of the news
being quietly spread over the length and breadth of the
land in a few seconds, as in our own day, resort was
had to more ordinary means. Horses, men, and carriages
were accordingly dressed in laurels and flowers and
ribbons. Coachmen and guards displayed themselves
to the best advantage with royal livery around their
rotund forms. Passengers merged the reserve of their
individuality in a stronger feeling of national exultation,
and when the loud noise of the lids locked down on the
mail bags smote on the ear, the trampling of fiery steeds
was heard as they bounded off like leopards amidst the
thundering- of wheels and the boisterous shouts of the
assembled hosts of observers. In the vivid remembrance
of such scenes, it is scarcely surprising that we should
regret that they have passed away ; that tidings must
now be transmitted by steam or electric telegraph, and
that the voice of the trumpet that once announced from

MEMORIES AND REGRETS. 139

afar the approach of the laurelled mails, should be lost
amid the hissing or shrieks of the locomotive.'

The following lines were written by one who saw,
with deep regret, the glories of the road departing : —

Lamentation of the Knights of the Whip.

Ah ! the good days of coaching are past like a dream,

And we, the ' Crack Dragsmen,' are victims to steam ;

There are many good fellows have cause to bewail

The old line of Road, and the new line of Rail.

And will England allow the best whips of her land

To come down from the box without lending a hand ?

And won't our good Queen do a something for us ?

Or must we be doomed to a Company's 'bus ?

O Steam ! thou art nought but the waggoners' curse !

Now hear all the changes, can any be worse ?

For the tapering ' crop ' you now witness a poker,

For the spruce turned-out coachman a smutty-faced stoker.

For the drag and its team, so renowned for its mettle,

Some menagerie vans urged along by a kettle ;

For the boast of our country, the ' quicksilver trot,'

A huge engine and tender, the asthmatical pot !

For the neat road-side inn and a dish of cold meat

You've a gorgeous saloon, but there's no time to eat ;

For a friendly pull-up and a breathing-time chat

A glance at the down with the loss of your hat ;

For the ' three feet of tin ' there's a whistle so shrill,

And a killing outright for an innocent spill ;

Then cry shame on the Rail, and as long as we live

The inventors of Steam we can scarcely forgive.

Oh ! our coaches, our whips, when again shall we see 'em ?

Alas ! as antiques in the British Museum.

O Vulcans ! O Drivers ! with Tartarean faces,

Can you ever expect to win ' our ' good graces ?

140 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

An emblem of Hell are your factory stations,

Exciting our pity, or vile execrations.

Where are your lines that can boast of their bounties ?

Can Northern ? or Western ? can poor ' Eastern Counties ' ?

O rulers ! 0 people ! why are you cajoled ?

They'll upset old England, which has long been foretold.

The foreboding about our coaches being" seen as
'antiques' was very nearly fulfilled in 1873 or 1874, when
the want of space alone prevented the Duke of Beaufort
from exhibiting in the Kensington Exhibition, an old Ben-
jamin Worthy Home's mail in his possession, which used
to run on the Holyhead road. But still, to soothe the
lamentations of the ' Knights of the Whip,' we can say —

Let steam do her worst, there are swells on the road,
Whose slap-up four-in-hands she can never explode.

And is it not better to travel by a coach at the rate of
ten miles an hour, with a certainty of accomplishing your
journey by a given time, than to travel by any mode which
holds out an uncertain prospect at treble the speed ?

'New modes of travelling,' as De Ouincey says, when
speaking of the English mail-coaches, 'cannot compare
with the old mail-coach system in grandeur and power.'

The art of driving and all things in connection with
the road had reached perfection — and it is for this reason
that we always refer to this period for instructions and
information teaching us how to blend the utile with the
dulce — when it received its death-blow by the general
introduction of railroads. Still coaching did not surrender;
and we see now, in the increase year by year of the number
of sta^e-coaches and of coach and road clubs, a growingf

MEMORIES AXD REGRETS. \\\

feeling in favour of glorious roads, whether for pleasure or
for profit.

' The superiority of road conveyance,' says ' Phoenix,'
writing to the ' Sporting Magazine ' in 1838, of the plea-
sures of railroad travelling, 'as far as enjoyment is con-
cerned, will always be acknowledged; for even in a "case"
in a coach, it's " there you are ;" whereas in a railway
carriage it's " where are you ? "

A railway conveyance is a locomotive prison. At a
certain period you are compelled to place your person and
property in the custody of a set of men exceedingly
independent, and who have little regard for your ac-
commodation. Till your journey is accomplished, you
are completely subservient to their commands. You pass
through the country without much opportunity of contem-
plating its beauties; you are subjected to the monotonous
clatter of its machinery, and every now and then to the
unpleasant grating sensation of the brake applied to the
wheels. To all these things must be added the horribly
offensive smells of rancid oil and smoky coal, the constant
attendants upon steam machinery.

142 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XXVII.

ON ACCIDENTS.

When the history of railway-travelling comes to be
written, one of the longest chapters, and one of the
saddest too, will be the chapter ' Of Accidents.' The
newspapers have long made us familiar with the heading
— ' Railway Accidents.' But accidents happened also
in the good old times of stage coaching ; and, when we
indulge in dreamy regrets over the vanished poetry
of the road, it is well that we should call to mind that
accidents used to happen even to the best regulated
coaches, with the finest teams, and the most accom-
plished whips. In the course of a year, they were
frequently numerous enough to furnish forth a pretty
long story. A goodly number of these coaching mis-
chances befel in driving downhill ; and a good deal of
discussion took place as to the merits of various methods
of prevention, especially of the locking of wheels, and of
having" the harness constructed with breeching.

Nimrod, as will be seen from his Essays, was in
favour of breeching, on the ground of its saving horses'
legs; and so was 'Jehu,' whose words on the subject
are worth quoting : —

ON ACCIDENTS. 143

' The next material point,' he says, ' to be considered,
is the mode of harnessing the horses and attaching them
to the carriage. It was a prudent custom of our ancestors
to have the harness constructed with breechines ; but
our modern whipcord dandies hold them in the greatest
contempt, and principally because they do not look natty ;
thus pitting their ideas of a proper appearance in their
" set out" against the lives and limbs of the passengers.
Now if these modern Jehus hazarded no other necks but
their own, the affair might be left to the decision of their
own taste and judgment, without the necessity of inter-
ference from any other quarter. But as this is not the
case, I conceive that every person who is obliged to trust
his carcase to the wisdom and forethought of these
worthies, has a right to remonstrate, or at least, to offer
his opinion. To think of doing so in person would, how-
ever, be a vain attempt. For any passenger who has
ever ridden on the box of a stage-coach (except Coachce
knows him to be a member of the Four-in-Hand Club, or
a young Oxonian or Cantab,) must have experienced
the contemptuous silence with which any observations
he might make on the noble art of driving are generally
received ; for it is inconceivable with what importance
these sapient gentlemen carry themselves in the pursuit
of their calling. The danger arising from the want of
breechings to the harness, exists principally while the
carriage is descending a hill ; for without them, the whole
power of resistance to the weight of the carriage rests
on the wheel horse's withers, thus pulling him down-
wards towards the ground, to the great risk of his falling ;

H4 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

a risk greatly-increased if the horse happens, as is very
often the case, to be groggy and tender in his fore feet ;
under which circumstances he has enough to do to sup-
port his own weight alone, without the additional impulse
of the carriage acting against him. When it is con-
sidered that the names of the collar, to which the pole
chain is fixed, are held together at the top by a small
strap and buckle only, and that, in the event of the
buckle giving way, the names must fly open, and conse-
quently deprive the wheel horse of any further power
of resistance, it needs but little reflection to foresee the
peril that would attend such an event ; as all power of
stopping the carriage would be taken away, its velocity
would be increased, and finally, by its overrunning the
horses, the consequences may be easily imagined, with-
out any further comment. Now when the wheel horses
are harnessed with breechings, much of this danger may
be avoided ; because even if the names of the collar
should fly open, still the breeching would act, and furnish
the horse with some power of resistance. It is worthy
of remark also, that, in consequence of the pole of a
stage-coach issuing quite horizontally from the splinter-
bar (and which certainly is necessary, on account of the
leaders drawing by it with the swingle-tree bars attached
to it), there is a greater danger of its being snapped in
the socket (sic) when it is pulled upwards at the other
end, by the resistance from the horses' withers,1 than when

1 During the summer of 1875 an unfortunate accident happened to the
Boxhi-11 stage, by the pole snapping in the futchells ; they certainly had no
breeching.

OX ACCIDEXTS. 145

it is acted upon more horizontally by the breeching.
It must be allowed, however, that the above-mentioned
risks are lessened when the lock wheel is locked in going
down hill. But at the present day this precaution is
seldom or never observed, except the hill be as steep
as the roof of a house ; the practice of these twelve-miles-
an-hour gentlemen being to gallop down one hill that
they may have the advantage of momentum of the
carriage in ascending another. It is true, that where
the roads are deep and heavy, the wheels make so deep
an impression as to decrease the velocity in descending
a hill sufficiently to prevent the necessity of locking, but
the present state of the roads is almost universally so
sound and good as to keep the wheels upon the nail,
and thus the danger is evidently increased. It is no
uncommon circumstance, though a very reprehensible
one, to use harness (in the middle stages of the road at
night) that is so old and imperfect (especially the reins),
as to be in constant danger of being broken. This un-
pardonable practice arises from there being no proba-
bility of its being detected by the passengers in the dark ;
and hence the proprietor, paying more attention to his
own pocket than to the safety of the passengers, cares
very little about the condition of those articles, which
form so essential a part of the undertaking. In addition
to this evil, it often happens, that these midway pro-
prietors make no scruple of using a horse in the middle
of the night that has never been in harness before, at the
risk of his kicking, or jibbing, or running the coach out
of the road ; inconveniences which, it is manifest, must

L

146 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

be greatly aggravated in a dark or foggy night. When
a horse of this description is put into the traces, he is
always put in at the wheel that in case of his hanging
back, the other horses may drag him on. Now although
it is possible that he may go along pretty orderly on the
level road, yet when he comes to descend the hill and
feels the weight of the carriage pressing against him,
he is almost sure to swerve, or to throw himself down
on his hind quarters, the consequences of which, if the
wheel is not locked, may sometimes be very fatal.'

Nimrod used to blame coachmen for getting too near
the pitch of a hill before pulling up ' to drag.' On this
subject, an ' Old Subscriber ' of the ' Sporting Magazine,'
relates the following occurrence : —

' Some few years past I was travelling to Brighton,
I think by the " Alert," at the time driven by a coach-
man named Pattenden. On pulling up at the extreme
point of Reigate Hill, and being anxious to get the drag
on, he did not do it securely. On starting rather brisk,
whether it came in contact with a stone, or from what
cause I know not, but it flew from the wheel it was
placed on to the opposite one, and fixed as properly and
securely as if placed by hand ; in which manner we pro-
ceeded down the hill, in my opinion, a providential and
singular circumstance, which perhaps, prevented a serious
accident.'

The difference between the ordinary break block in
use on most of the present stage-coaches, and that used
by the proprietor of the Ross and Chepstow stage, the
" Old Times," illustrated by the accompanying diagram,

ON ACCIDENTS.

147

cannot fail to attract the attention of coach proprietors
in general.

' My stage-coach, the " Old Times," says the pro-
prietor, ' is built by Whycherley and Sons of Cheltenham.
The outline given of the box seat of the same (fig. 1)
shows the position of the break handle. The reason

Fig. 2.

Fig- 3-

why my handle comes so far forward, is to allow for a
large block, and to let it come away from the wheel ; so
that in going up a steep hill, when your weight is thrown
back, and your coach will be down on the hind bed, it
does not catch the wheel. This peculiar-shaped block

I. z

148 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

will all but lock both hind wheels down hill with a heavy
load. My block (fig-. 2) is of soft wood, from twelve to
fourteen inches deep, and fits to the wheel with the
ordinary break supplied by all London coachbuilders.
The small iron block touches vour wheel onlv at one
point (fig. 3), and being of iron, also does not bite ; their
unserviceableness being evident from the fact that, go-
ing down an ordinary hill, the skid has to be used as well.
Observe that the wooden blocks are twice as deep as the
iron ones, and, as they wear out soon on steep roads, are
easily replaced by knocking the old ones up from the
bolt and sliding in another from above, when it fixes it-
self wedge-like. A great advantage connected with this
break is, that the coachman can work it himself easily, as
the handle comes forward (for the reasons I have given),
and when your wheels are locked is not behind him, but
on a line with the centre of the box-seat ; thus allowing
him to work it without disturbing" his seat. Here is a
great advantage over the ordinary break, all coachmen
will allow ; chains with shoe, and hook, and poles too,
will break, and this style of block is the only one that
will stop your coach. These blocks will last some time,
even on hilly roads, in comparison with the small iron
ones, as they cover such a large surface. The iron ones
require to be "put on " very strongly down an ordinary
hill and wear away accordingly. You should be careful
that your connecting bar be proportionably stout to the
size of your break block.'

Nimrod suggested a very simple and practicable ex-
pedient for the prevention of accidents to coaches when

ON ACCIDENTS 149

descending hills. It was a matter of surprise to Nimrod,
as it is to me, that surveyors of roads have not adopted
his plan, on the suggestion of coachmen who, says Nim-
rod, know the value, of the bite. It is merely this : ' If a
strip of gravel or broken stone, about one yard wide and
four or five inches deep, was left on the near side of a hill,
and never suffered to bind or diminish, it would afford that
additional friction (technically called a bite) to the two
near side wheels, that not only would the necessity of a
drag chain (never to be trusted) be done away with, but
in case of a hame-strap or pole- chain giving way, one
wheel-horse would be able to hold back a coach however
heavily laden. No inconvenience to the road could arise
from this precaution as carriages ascending the hills would
never be required to touch the loose gravel, it not being on
their side the road.' Custom is the only excuse I can
find given for not adopting this excellent suggestion.

The charge of the roads in the time of the Romans
was, Pliny informs us, ' entrusted to men of the highest
dignity.' Their roads, some of which remain to the
present day, evince their skill and labour in this direc-
tion.

The following remarkable instance of a narrow escape
from accident is on record as recently as January

1S73 :—

'On Wednesday night, when the "Queen" coach

from Okehampton to Holsworthy was within five miles

of the latter place, the coachman got down at an inn and

the horses started off, and ran thence to Holsworthy in

perfect safety, though the road is exceedingly dangerous

i5o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

and they had no one to guide them. They stopped for
the drag as usual at the top and bottom of the hills, and
drew up at the accustomed inn in the usual manner.
There were no outside passengers, but a woman and
child were inside, and were not in the least injured.'

On Tuesday, December 27, 1836, about a mile
from St. Albans, on the London side, a chariot without
horses was seen by Burdett, the guard of the Liverpool
mail, at the moment that his coach had got into a drift
and almost at the same spot. The chariot was very
nearly buried in the snow. There were two ladies in-
side, who made an earnest appeal for help to the mail
guard. They stated that the post-boy had left them for
St. Albans to get fresh cattle and* had been gone two
hours. The guard's own situation was critical, for his
coachman, a passenger, and four horses, had to be put on
their legs again, and he was unable to render any assist-
ance. His mail being extricated, he therefore pursued
his journey to London, leaving the chariot and the ladies
to their fate.

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A CHAPTER OF ANECDOTES. 151

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A CHAPTER OF ANECDOTES.

A short time after the last war with France, an amateur
coachman was entering the town of Dover at night with
his team — all bang-up, and the lamps lit — when, not
taking quite room enough, in turning round a corner, he
touched the post with his off hind wheel, by which means
a little French count, who was on the box with him was
sent flying into the street. Falling on his snuff box,
which was in his side pocket, he stove In three of his ribs.
The amateur pulled up immediately, and seeing a sailor
close to his coach, he requested he would go and pick the
gentleman up, and see if he was hurt. Jack, who was
half sprung at the time, went in pursuit of him, and seeing
a bundle of capes and great coats lying in the road, cried
out, ' Why, here's no gem man here, here's nothing but
coats.' Upon which the count exclaimed, 'Oh, by gar, I

brake three rib.' ' Oh ! d n your eyes,' says Jack,

' you're a Frenchman, are you ? lie there and be d d.'

Nimrod, in one of his essays, expresses a doubt
whether it is a coachmanlike practice to speak to your
horses from the box. This reminds me of a capital
story once told me by my dear friend, Jack Peyton

152 AXX.-1LS OF THE ROAD.

of the 7th Dragoon Guards, himself an excellent
dragsman, relative to that well-known sportsman,
novelist, and poet, Major Whyte Melville, a martyr to
the noble science. The Major found himself one day
without a horse to ride, and the hounds were about to
meet at a fixture well known as a sure find. Turning
the stable affairs over in his mind, he suddenly bethought
himself of one of Mrs. Whyte Melville's carriage horses,
as a horse that he remembered being told, on buying him
some years before, 'had been hunted.' He made up his
mind at once, telling Mrs. Whyte Melville of his intention,
adding, ' you can see as much of the hounds with shafts
as with pole.' The day arrived and the Major appeared
on the 'off horse's' partner. A fox was soon afoot and
the Major's heart was charmed on discovering the ease
with which the 'coach 'oss' negociated his first and second
fences, allowing him to put himself in his accustomed
place alongside of the pack. A burning scent and on
they go, another fence or two, not quite so happy, a bit of
a 'peck,' occasioned no doubt by the absence of the collar;
when in the distance the — to a man who is not quite sure
of his mount — ominous line of willow trees, indicating
water, is seen. Giving up all hopes of further progress,
the Major lets go the machiner's head ; but as suddenly
pulls himself and his steed together again, for through
his mind flashes this happy thought (a true case of
'welcome little stranger') — 'Machiner' was one of a
pair that were in the habit of taking Mrs. Whyte Melville
to the Opera House. Moreover ' Machiner' was a highly
nervous animal, and the Major had observed that on

A CHAPTER OF ANECDOTES. 153

coming away from the Opera, on the shutting of the
door with the word (bawled out at the top of the voice
as usual) 'Home!' this horse invariably rushed into
his collar with a tremendous bound ; and this was the
Major's idea : ' I'll shout " Home ! " and get the bound ! '
Acting up to this resolve, and keeping old ' Machiner's '
head straight, the moment he felt sure a swerve was
coming at the brink of the water, giving the coach horse
one cut on his flanks as a reminder, he shouted with
all his might, 'Home!' — when a bound was the result,"
causing the major and ' Machiner ' to land several feet on
the far side of the obstacle.

Moral : Do not neglect to make use of your voice to
your horse when necessary, for it has its ' effect.'

Fifty years ago many stage-coaches carried six inside
instead of four, but it would appear that the increase was
only in the number of passengers, and not in the room
provided for them. If this was a ' minor inconvenience,'
what should we now pronounce the greater to be ! ' Of
the coaches at that time,' Jehu says, ' I shall say but little
of several minor inconveniencies, such as cramming six
individual masses of human flesh into a space barely
sufficient to contain four ; because that point is generally
disposed of by the coachman, who very mathematically
observes that the motion of the vehicle will make them
settle and dove-tail as they go along!' It was not long
though before the old crawling, creaking, rattling, six-
inside vehicle gave way to the fast four-inside light coach.

Here is a story of a traveller by a night mail who
was blessed with a greater length of leg than most men.

154 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

One of these favourites of nature, who measured about
six feet four inches, and who had been travelling all
nieht in the inside of a mail coach, to the no small
annoyance of his opposite fellow-traveller, observed, on
the coach stopping to change horses, that he would take
that opportunity to get out and stretch his legs ; upon
which the other, who was an Irishman, exclaimed with
great feeling and justice, ' By Jasus, you have no occasion
to do that, for they are quite long enough already."

The following is a curious illustration of the decline
of post chaises : —

Travelling on the Great North Road lately, I asked
the owner of a house which had been a well-known inn
but is now a school, if he knew what had become of the
numerous post-chaises that formerly rattled over this
road. He said that there had been one in the yard until
lately, and that he had given it to a carpenter in exchange
for forms for his schoolboys to sit on. I have seen a
number of these ' yellow po'-chays in a carpenter's
yard at Cambridge, awaiting their turn to give up their
panels and spokes to be made into some other device
of man's ingenuity. I have also seen them serving as
summer-houses in the gardens attached to neat suburban
villas.

' To the dragsman of old the present coaches (the
drags of the Four-in-Hand and Coaching Clubs) have a
somewhat topheavy look, and are all decidedly higher
than were the crack post coaches of bygone days. Such
vehicles, for instance, as the " Age," the " Rival," or the
day mail of the old Brighton Road. Fashion, however,

A CHAPTER OF ANECDOTES. 155

is imperative, and in such matters a lofty drag, if not
quite so safe at a sharp turn, has a very grand and im-
posing appearance, and noble owners of such carriages
deserve to be looked up to.'

Asking the well-known Mr. Barton of Canterbury,
who has ' taken off his bars,' after having been a mail
coachman on the Birmingham and afterwards on the
Dover Road, and who in his last years practised as a
veterinary surgeon, if he used not to find it precious cold
work sometimes driving between Canterbury and Dover,
especially over Barham Downs ; he replied that he
certainly did at times. He went on to say, 'they used to
send me as guards young fellows who had tried shop-
keeping or some such in-door work as a profession ;
anyhow, some of them were regular molly-coddles. I
remember driving over these very downs you speak of
one cold winter, and my guard was frequently coming
over the roof to me, and asking me if I didn't think it
very cold. Now I always knew how to keep out cold — ■
(plenty of flannel next your skin, and all that), and this
young man did not ; and all the answer he ever got from
me was — " Cold? oh dear no !" Well, he was continually
bothering me about the same thing, until one day — and
it really was a tremendously cold day and no mistake,
and what is more I felt it — he came clambering over the
roof and said : " Now, Mr. Barton, this is real cold." I
said as usual, " Oh no, I don't feel it ! " though my eyes
were running down with cold at the time ; when he
replied, " Now, Mr. Barton, I know you are cold, for
your eyes are watering." "Watering?" I said, "why

156 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

that's perspiration ! '' I got no more talk from him
about the cold after that.' l

Here is a curious inscription that is to be seen over
the door of an inn at Pisa in Italy. It is written in four
different languages, but the rhyme and metre are well
preserved : —

In questa casa trouverate,

Tout ce qu'on peut souhaitcr,

Bonum vinum, pisces, carries,

Coaches, chaises, horses, harness.

The ordinan' mode, be it known, of saluting between
coachmen on the box, and when meeting on the road, is
by lifting the butt of your whip, and turning the elbow
outwards, the little finger being raised at the same time,
your forefinger being at all times up the yew, to direct
your points.

In drinking toasts, too, amongst ' workmen,' the little
finger is always extended when raising the glass.

A gentleman-coachman, a well-known whip — now,
alas, no more- — who was a member of the Road Club,
wrote to me of the present stage-coaches as follows : —
' Most of the coaches of the present day are constructed
to carry twelve passengers outside, and four inside,
which, with coachman and guard, makes up eighteen
persons. Some of the coaches are light, and carry

1 A letter I wrote to Mr. Barton, enclosing him some copies which I had
promised him of the ' Lamentation of the Knights of the Whip,' has just been
returned to me through the Dead Letter Office, informing me of his decease.
Poor Barton ! I asked him once to get up and let me see him handle the
ribbons on our drag at Canterbury. He replied that he wished he could,
but was too heavy. I said we'd get him up, when he replied, but how was
he to get down ! He was twenty-four stone,

A CHAPTER OF ANECDOTES. 157

eleven outside, besides the coachman. I do not know
the wording- of the Act, but I do not think any coach
should carry more than eighteen, and I think you could
be pulled for exceeding that number. I have constantly
left people behind at the " Cellar " and down the road,
because I decline to carry passengers on the roof, i.e.
more than fourteen outside. I do not think it is fair
upon your other passengers, your cattle, or your coach
springs.' He inveighed (as all thorough-going coachmen
ever will inveigh) most strongly against the practice,
which some proprietors still adopt, I am sorry to see, of
carrying a seat on the roof, than which nothing looks
more unsightly or is more uncoaching. Besides, when
your boots are full, where is your luggage to go ? Let
me observe here, too, that the true character of the staQfe
coach is lost in placing the hind seat on irons, drag
fashion, instead of on panel. The hind panel should be
there {vide plate of stage coach), and it should carry the
name on it. There is something in such names as the
' Age,' ' Telegraph,' ' Quicksilver,' ' Highflyer,' ' Express,'
' Tally-ho,' etc. — deny it who can. I am glad to learn
that the sporting proprietor of the ' Old Times,' the Ross
and Chepstow stage, Mr. Price Hamilton, intends having
his coaches' hind seat thus, displaying the name.

' Some amusing incidents,' he continues, ' occur, from
aristocratic owners being taken for coachmen who live by
their trade. An old lady once called to the window a
friend of mine, and, showing him half-a- crown, said, " I
intend to give you this at the end of the journey, but it
must be upon one condition, which is, that I do not see

158 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

you enter another public-house, as I think you have
already been into enough of them for any refreshment
you ought to require." I do not know whether the
coachman, whose rent roll of one estate was certainly
equal to many half-crowns per hour, afterwards earned
the gratuity. I have frequently had to decline tips.1
But one wet day I took from a distinguished senator,
whose party numbered ten outsides, what I took to be a
shilling. I thought that, knowing who I was, he offered
it for chaff; but when I took off my soaked upper
Benjamin soon afterwards, and emptied my pockets, it
turned out to be a sovereign.

'An old lady once beckoned me to the door while
" first change out" at Balham, and said, " Coachman, we
have come very nicely out of London, and at a pretty
pace ; but through Clapham your horses did not work
evenly together. ■ Oh, you see I know all about stage-
coach riding ! " I was obliged to answer, touching my
hat, " You are quite right, ma'am ; they did work a little
awkward." There was not time, nor indeed would it
have done, to try to explain to the dear old party that it
was the tramway that was to blame. This tramway is a
great nuisance to coaching ; it is impossible to get a
coach to run evenly over it, particularly where it is laid
down on the side of a hill or on asphalte. Your coach
sways and slides about, and the sensation of an inside
passenger is very much as if the four horses were taking it
in turn to draw the coach. This was the old lady's idea,
no doubt, for in her last experience of stage coaching,

1 What a mistake ! every little helps.

A CHAPTER OF ANECDOTES. 159

half a century ago, such an abomination as a tramway for
cars was not invented.' He goes on to another anecdote
of modern stage-coaching :

' I once heard an American gentleman on the front
seat tell his friend on the coach that the Prince of Wales
once took up coaching, but suddenly gave it up, and sold
off all his harness, one set of which was now in use
before us. This beat me for the moment, until he ex-
plained by pointing out the coronet on the harness — of
course the property of my partner. " The coaches," he
says, "are much patronised by Americans, and very good
and pleasant patrons and companions they are, too. They
make up their minds to enjoy themselves and make the
best of everything."

' In reply to my query as to where the " Burford
Bridge Hotel" was, he says, " Early last season the old
sign-board, with its picture of the ' Hare and Hounds,' the
original name of this ' inn,' was taken down, and in its
place was put up a plain board, ' The Burford Bridge
Hotel.' Hence the change in the newspapers, and my
own reference to it. I agree with you in preferring the
former name."

The Dorking Coach, hitherto a ' butterfly/ con-
tinued on the road throughout the winter of 1873, and
ran between the ' White Horse Cellar ' and the ' Hare and
Hounds,' Burford Bridge, on this side of Dorking. This
should prove a useful stage for men hunting in Surrey.

160 AAWALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER XXIX.

A DRIVE ON THE GREAT WESTERN ROAD.

My experience of the Great Western Road, from driving
down to Taunton two or three years ago, enables me to
speak highly in its favour. The road is kept in excellent
order throughout, and the inns l are well kept and most
comfortable. In all the inns I put up at post-horses are
kept. I give them as I found them. The ' Virginia
Water ' inn, excellent accommodation for man ; but as I
only changed horses here, cannot say what accommo-
dation the)' may have for horses. The Hartford Bridge
inn we found shut up. At Basingstoke, the ' Red Lion,'
capital stables and good in every way. Andover, the
' Star and Garter' inn, all very good indeed ; the tits in
the stable well looked after. Park House inn, only baited
here. Salisbury, the ' White Hart,' excellent. Bland-
ford, the ' Crown,' very good. Woodgate's inn shut up,
Mr. Day having taken the inn as part of his extensive
stables ; though if a feed of oats is all you require, I feel

1 1 use the word ' inn ' advisedly ; for an inn, according to Johnson's
dictionary, is ' a house of entertainment for travellers.' The signification of
the term \ hotel,' in its modern acceptation, makes it appear synonymous
with inn ; whereas the term ' hotel ' properly means a genteel lodging-house,
such as the Bedford Hotel, Brighton, Hatchett's, London, &c.

A DRIVE ON THE GREAT IVES TERN ROAD. 161

sure it would not be denied you. I remember being
shown in this inn, some years ago, a three-legged table in
a parlour, each leg of which stood in a different county !
Mr. Day's racing-stables are in themselves worth going
all this way to view. At Sherborne, the ' Digby.' This
inn has taken the place of the ' King's Arms,' and no
words of mine can sufficiently praise this establishment, for
in truth stables and house are in themselves a model of
perfection. They were built by the truly sporting and
noble-hearted squire of Sherborne Castle, with lavish
expenditure without waste. There is a ' place for every-
thing, and everything is in its place/ The principal
object of Mr. Digby (I hope he won't mind my making
free with his name — public benefactors such as he must
not mind) in building this hotel was to induce gentlemen
to come and hunt in his county. This object he has
attained by the good accommodation he offers for the
sportsman and his hunter in this venture. I, with my
wife, was the first to make use of this hotel, so I take
more than ordinary interest in it. The ' Antelope ' too
is an excellent inn here with good stables. As on my
return journey I stayed at this town to hunt, I can speak
with some knowledge of the inns. I should like to
speak of the ' Leicestershire of the South ' as a hunting
country, but I must get on the road again and merely
say en passant, ' try it' At Ilminster, the ' George,' every-
thing very good ; Taunton, the ' Castle,' excellent. For
the benefit of those who may wish to travel as we did,
I may state how we went. Horses, a pair of brown
geldings 15*2, short in leg, light in mouth with plenty of

M

1 62 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

bone and barrel ; thev could do their mile in four minutes
easy. The carriage (a Stanhope phaeton with a hood l)
was hung on telegraph springs, an imperial fitted under
the fall of the hood behind, and overhanging the body
to the breadth of the front seat, strapped to a dee on
either side under the body, another narrow imperial
strapped on to the front dash, and the groom's box fitted
under the hind seat. The ' three feet of tin,' a necessity
on long journeys, hung at my whip hand in its basket. I
never enjoyed anything more than this and other similar
travels in my life.

Watching the Kingsbridge stage-coach start, when I
was at Plymouth a year or two ago, I noticed a very
peculiar hind-boot. Instead of carrying luggage like
other stages, it is adapted for carrying passengers, and
seats two. It has a barred window at either side, and
one in the door behind. Rather a trial for the hind bed,
I should say, but necessitated, no doubt, by the fares
outnumbering their boxes.

1 This carriage was too light for road work : the mail-phaeton with perch
is the thing.

MR. JACOB'S INVENTION. 163

CHAPTER XXX.

mr. Jacob's invention.

Various contrivances have been devised by coach-
builders, to enable coaches and other four-wheeled
carriages to turn shorter than the common coaches,
without causing the forewheels to touch the perch.
The crane-necked perch is one ; another is the follow-
ing contrivance of Mr. Jacob, of Greek Street, Soho,
(1810).

The diagram on p. 164 represents Mr. Jacob's inven-
tion : —

a is the perch as in a common coach, b the piece
carrying the springs, and f the piece supporting the
traces bolted across the perch at right angles, a is the
perch bolt which does not pass through the axletree
itself, but through a piece of wood, g, projecting per-
pendicularly from the middle of the axletree, about half
the diameter of the fore-wheels, and is firmly fixed to it
by bolts and straps of iron. The axletree h, is straight
on the upper side, and has a straight edge of iron
screwed on the top of it, on which the end of the perch
a is supported ; the under side of the perch is also faced
with iron where it lies upon the axletree.

M 2

i64

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

It is evident, from the drawing, that by removing
the perch bolt to a distance from the axletree by means
of the piece g, the axletree may be turned round much
nearer into a line with the perch, without either of the

wheels touching it, than it could do if the perch bolt went
through the middle of it, as in the common way. Still, as
this plan has been found to interfere with the straight
running of your coach, it does not recommend itself.

REVIVAL OF COACHING. 165

CHAPTER XXXI.

REVIVAL OF COACHING.

The Brighton ' Age,' then the property of Mr. Clarke, was
taken off the road in 1862. Its withdrawal marks the
beginning of a period of about four years, or three sum-
mer seasons, during which coaching, with some casual and
obscure exceptions in remote country places, was extinct
in ' merrie England.' The rail ruled without a rival. In
the summer of 1866, however, an attempt was made
by Mr. C. Lawrie, backed by a goodly array of noble
and other patrons and shareholders, to restore the glory
of the deserted road. Through that season the ' Old
Times,' driven by Pratt, made the journey between
London and Brighton three times a week, each way. But
the sale of the stock, both live and rolling, at the close
of the season, was a confession that the scheme did not

Pay-
Undeterred by want of pecuniary success, several of
the proprietors of the ' Old Times,' among them the
Duke of Beaufort and Mr. Chandos Pole, made a new
venture in 1867. They started and ran, during the
season, two coaches between London and Brighton, both
sides of the road daily. Pratt was again on the bench,

1 66 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

and his colleague was Alfred Tedder. This double
venture appears to have been more successful than the
former ; and this led to the running" of one of the
coaches through the following winter months. The
coach ran perseveringly, to be sure, but then Mr. Chandos
Pole was the proprietor ; still its pluck and its luck
were ill-matched, coachman and guard not seldom having
it all to themselves, — no passengers, no boxes, no tips.
This was making it a rather expensive luxury. When the
spring came (1868), two coaches again started, and for
some time one of them was driven by the proprietor
himself, Mr. Chandos Pole, who was familiarly known as
1 the Squire.' Tedder drove the other coach. At the
close of the season an appropriate and no doubt well-
merited testimonial was presented to each of the two
whips.

The season of 1869 was to witness a far greater and
altogether surprising success. This year, the proprietors
of the Brighton coach — Lord Londesborough, Colonel
Clitheroe, Mr. Chandos Pole Gell, and Mr. G. Meek, —
had the good fortune to obtain the services of Mr. A. G.
Scott as their honorary secretary. This gentleman, go-
ing to work with a will and determined to have his way,
knowing well that Brighton coaches, like all other good
things, must be known before they can be enjoyed and
appreciated, did ' give it bold advertisement.' By his
energetic personal activity and unsleeping vigilance he
made the Brighton coach a ' household word ' in the
mouths of men at home and abroad. It was everywhere
proclaimed and placarded, till it seemed almost as if a

REVIVAL OF COACHING. 167

ride on the Brighton was an object of eager ambition to
men in all parts of the world. Passengers offered them-
selves more than the coach could hold ; and the brilliant
success of its ' opening day ' was followed by a run of the
same, which has not yet found a terminus.

This same year (1869), several other stage-coaches
were put upon the road. One for Tunbridge Wells, which
had started in 1868 for Sevenoaks; another for Windsor;
and a third for High Wycombe.1 The Windsor coach
ran for only two seasons ; but the others held their
ground more successfully. The history of coaching for
the next few years is to a large extent a record of
new and unimportant adventures and speedy failures.
Coaches were started for Oatlands Park, Virginia
Water, Rochford, Hampton Court and Sunbury, and
Reigate. The details of these most sporting though
unsuccessful schemes are scarcely worth recording. One
event, however, stands out amongst and above all others
of the period, as a complete success ; namely, the estab-
lishment in May 1871 of the London and Dorking coach.
For lovers of the picturesque it would hardly be possible
to choose a more attractive piece of road of the same
length, or a tract of country presenting so much real
beauty and variety. The choice of this road was deter-
mined by the urgent counsel of Mr. A. G. Scott, who
as honorary secretary accepted the management of the
project. The proprietors had originally intended to run
a stage-coach to Canterbury ; but on Mr. Scott's repre-

1 Mr. John Eden is the proprietor of this stage, which has run every
summer since.

1 68 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

sentation of the hopelessness of that route, they gave it
up and agreed to Dorking.

In 1874, a club was instituted in London for the con-
venience of lovers of the road, entitled the ' Road Club.'
Under the presidentship of such a thorough ' artist' and
lover of the road as the Duke of Beaufort, this club can-
not fail to be very fashionable, and I anticipate a great
benefit to the road from its existence. Now that stage
coaching is revived, there is no reason why this club
should not emulate the example of the B. D. C, and con-
tinue the Benevolent Whip Club, a source of relief to
distressed coachmen, which worked so admirably in its
day. The true lover of the road would be glad of the
opportunity of giving a lift to ' one of us,' and the club
would gain a practical object.

There are a certain number of stage-coaches which
may be considered as standard, i.e. for the last five to
eight years past, they have always run from London
during the season (from May 1, until September or
October), and over the same roads, at the same times for
leaving and returning, and mostly owned by the same
proprietors. They are the following : —

The Tunbridge Wells . . Hastings Road.

„ Dorking . . . Arundel Road.

,, High Wycombe . . Oxford Road.
,, Brighton.

Lord Bective, Colonel Hathorne, Mr. Charles Hoare,
Sir Henry de Bathe, Lieutenant Colonel Withington,
Lord Macduff, Lord Blandford, Mr. Eden, Lord Aveland,

REVIVAL OF COACHING.

169

Mr. Chandos Pole, Mr. Cooper, Colonel Stracey Clitheroe,
the Duke of Beaufort, Lord Londesborough, Captain
Haworth, have all been or still are proprietors. Gene-
rally two partners work a coach during a season. Some
of the above (the late Colonel Withington, Lord Bective
and Colonel Hathorne, I think), were on the same
road, and never missed a season since it first had a coach
upon it.

Then there have been other coaches on the road,

viz.

The Rebate

,, Windsor .

,, Guildford .

,, Westerham

,, St. Albans

„ Watford .
Aldershot

Brighton Road,
by Exeter Road.
Portsmouth Road.
Uckfield Road.
Holyhead Road.
Birmingham Road.
Southampton Road.

These have at times been worked by Lord Carrington,
Mr. B. I. AngelL Lord Norrys, Colonel Tyrwhitt,
Colonel Dickson, Captains Otway and Williams, Major
Furnivall, Lord Guildford, and Mr. R. Herbert.

The table at top of next page gives a list of the
stage-coaches and their proprietors, in the season of
1874.

All these coaches, except the Brighton, returned to
London between 6.30 and 7 p.m.

The Watford, Birmingham Road, and the Boxhill,
Arundel Road, arrived in London in the morning, and
worked back from Hatchett's in the afternoon.

i7o

ANXALS OF THE ROAD.

Name

Road

From

Hour

Coachman and Proprietor

Tunbridge Wells .

Hastings,

Hatchett's

A.M.
IO

Lord Bective, Col.
Hathorne

Windsor . . .

Exeter,

»

>>

Capts. Otway and
Williams

Dorking . . .

Arundel,

»

10.30

Col. Withington,
Lord Blandford

Westerham . .

Uckfield,

5)

>)

Sir H. de Bathe,
Major Furnivall

Brighton

Brighton,

»

10.45

Captain Haworth

Guildford . . .

Portsmouth,

J)

1 1

Col. Dickson

St. Albans . . .

Holyhead,

»)

J5

Mr. G. Bailey and
Mr. Parsons

High Wycombe .

Oxford, Green Man and
Still, Oxford Street

>>

Mr. Eden

In 1875, these were the stage-coaches out of London,

viz.

Name

Road

Leave

Return

Proprietors

Coachmen

The Guild-

Portsmouth

Hatchett's

7 P.M.

Major Furnivall

Thos. Thoro-

ford

II A.M.

Mr. Shoolbred
Mr. Luxmore

good
Ed. Spencer

Dorking

Arundel .

Hatchett's

6.45 P.M.

Marquis of Clark

10.30 A.M.

Blandford

Tunbridge

Hastings .

Hatchett's

7 P.M.

Earl of Bective

Selby

Wells

IO A.M.

Col. Chaplin Fovvnes, Jun.

Beckenham

Uckfield .

Hatchett's

IO.45 AM-

Major Furnivall ; J. Boutall

4.30 P.M.

,Mr. Baker
Mr. Hurman

J. Simmons
H. Thorogood

Windsor

By Exeter

IO.45 A M.

7 p.m. Col. Greenhall

R. Rear

Road

Capt. Chichester

Box Hill .

Arundel .

4.15 P.M

1 1.30 A.M.

Capt. Cooper

B. Hubble and

Proprietor

Virginia

Exeter

IO A.M.

6 I'.M. 1 Mr. Kane

E. Fovvnes

Water

St. Albans '

Holyhead .

II A.M.
Scotch Stores

6.30 P.M.

Mr. Parsons, &c.

Timms

Wycombe

Oxford

II A.M

7. 30 P. M.

Mr. Eden

G. Eldridgeand

Hatchett's

Proprietor

Brighton

by Rtigate

>»

Alternate ' Mr. Freeman

J. Thorogood

cc Hickstead

Days.

Mclntyre

Maidenhead

Bath .

j)

,, Mr. Hobson

J. Tutton

1 This stage enjoys the reputation of being the only one that has been
running steadily up to the present hour ; keeping its time through a most

REVIVAL OF COACHING. 171

Stage-coaching is thus on the increase year by year,
not only in and out of London, but in the provinces.
In fact, the country stages pay better than those from
London ; for instance, the ' Revivalist,' from Worcester
to Ross, running but four days a week, showed a balance
credit of 50/. for the season of 1875, and many others
do better. ' Florcat Rheda quadrigalis!

severe winter, with Selby as coachman and Cracknell (son of ' The Tantivy '
coachman) as guard.

172 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

CHAPTER AAA11.

RETROSPECTIVE.

1 A bright morning- towards the end of May ; a coach,
primrose colour ; a team of two powerful bay wheelers
and blood greys at lead, all with plenty in front of the
collar, and bone to support them ; the whole turn-out
having a lot of sort about it, thoroughly bang-up in fact.
Throw your fastidious eye over the horses, leathers, and
coach, and all you can say is capital !
' With truth also can you say —

' Here's to the shape that is shown on the near side,
Here's to the blood on the off, Sir ;
Limbs with no check to the freedom of stride,
Wind without whistle or cough, Sir.

' A full way bill, " time up " from the guard, " all right "
from coachee to the horsekeepers, the horse-cloths being
pulled off at this signal, the traces tightened, as with one
move, bringing the swingle bars up with a jerk, pole-
chains rattle to each step, and then "with elbows squared,
and with wrists turned down, he sends his tits along."
The " three feet of tin " sounds its seven notes musically,
and with "all quality, pride, pomp, and circumstance of

RETROSPECTIVE. 173

glorious roads," away we go rumbling over the London
stones for our lirst stage out.

' Amongst all the contrasts that are exhibited in
ordinary life, few are more striking than what is pre-
sented by London at the same hour morning and
evening.

' At six in the morning everything is comparatively
still. The chimes of the different churches appear to
be louder, only because they are more distinctly heard.
Covent Garden market-men and basket-women are
pouring in with their vegetables, fruits, and flowers.
The battered beau is observed steering homewards but
half-sobered, and one would think entirely wretched ;
while the solitary hackney cab is seen here and there
passing sleepily along with a cargo of prime youths, any-
thing but half-sober, or a tawdry heap of damsels who
have been Cremorning, or routing, or what not. For
the benefit of your town gentleman I have just hinted
what a morning in London is. The evenings are familiar
enough. We are now passing through Highgate Arch-
way, turning our backs upon the dense fog and smoke
that hang about St. Paul's, and overshadow the whole
city ; observing the mansion, the villa, the cottage orn&>
with their inhabitants in the shape of bankers, merchants,
stockbrokers, and all the other brokers, summoned by
the tinkling of an outside bell to their rustic breakfast,
before they pour into the City to deal in and talk about
stocks, rise and fall, hemp, tallow, differences in prices,
coffee, sugar, bristles, horsehair, and skins.

' Reaching the wide and open country, the wheels

174 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

skim over the well macadamised road, and the horses
bursting into a canter at a smart crack of the whip, step
along the road as if the load behind them, coach, pas-
sengers, game, luggage, and all were but a feather at
their heels. They have descended a gentle slope, and
enter upon a road as compact and dry as a solid block of
marble. Our stage-coach carries animation always with
it, and puts the world in motion as it whirls along. The
horn sounded at the entrance of a village produces a
general bustle. Some hasten forth to meet friends, some
with bundles and band-boxes to secure places, and in
the hurry of the moment can hardly take leave of the
group that accompanies them. In the meantime the
guard has a world of small commissions to execute.
Sometimes he delivers a hare or a pheasant, sometimes
jerks a small parcel or newspaper to the door of the
public-house, and sometimes, with knowing leer and
words of sly import, hands to some half-blushing, half-
laughing housemaid an odd-shaped billet-doux from
some rustic admirer. As the coach rattles through the
village, everyone runs to the window, ?nd you have
glimpses on every side of fresh country faces and bloom-
ing Qrioralingr cnrls. At the corners are assembled village
idlers and wise men, who take their stations there for
the important purpose of seeing company pass out. The
largest knot is generally at the blacksmith's, to whom the
passing of the coach is an event fruitful of much specula-
tion. The smith with the horse's heel in his lap, pauses
as the vehicle whirls by ; the cyclops round the anvil
suspend their ringing hammers, and suffer the iron to

RETROSPECTIVE. 175

grow cool, and the sooty spectre in brown paper cap,
labouring at the bellows, leans on the handle for a
moment, and permits the asthmatic engine to heave a
long-drawn sigh, while he glares through the murky
smoke and sulphurous gleams of the smithy. Another
crack of the whip and on they speed at a smart gallop,
the horses tossing their heads and rattling the harness as
if in exhilaration at the rapidity of the motion ; while the
coachman, holding the whip and reins in one hand,
takes off his hat with the other, and resting it on his
knees, pulls out his handkerchief and wipes his forehead,
partly because he has a habit of doing so, and partly
because it is as well to show the passengers how cool he
is, and what an easy thing it is to drive four-in-hand when
one has had so much practice as he has. Having done
this very leisurely (otherwise the effect would be materi-
ally impaired), he replaces his handkerchief, pulls on his
hat, adjusts his gloves, squares his elbows, cracks the
whip, and on they speed more merrily than before.'

PREFACE TO NIM ROD'S ESSAYS. 177

PREFACE TO NIM ROD'S ESSAYS.

Perhaps my reader may call it a work of supererogation
for me to write a preface to NimrocTs works. I cannot,
however, help giving- him John Lawrence's words,
addressed to the ' Sporting Magazine,' in reference to
these Essays on the Road. ' Nimrod has rendered,' says
he, ' a service of public importance by his Essays on the
Road. It is an original undertaking, executed in true
taste, and with a minuteness of professional and practical
accuracy which leaves us nothing to desire.'

If the Athenians, the most polished nation of anti-
quity, deemed it an honour to be considered skilful
charioteers, Englishmen should certainly not consider it
a disgrace.

But setting aside the shining examples of antiquity, it
should be considered that we are a nation of horsemen
and dragsmen ; that among us the management of a horse,
whether in or out of harness, is of prime consequence,
and to none more so than to the upper classes ; that
skilful driving is an enviable accomplishment, even for a
Prince ; and that it is only to be attained in any high
degree by a course of actual practice upon the public
road. Mr. Fox used to say that no man could attain to

N

178 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

a high degree of excellence in any undertaking unless he
were endowed with a competent share of enthusiasm.
The enthusiasm of Nimrod, and the warmth of his
hobby-horsical feelings, are apparent in his every sen-
tence.

I shall say no more, but only note the remark made
by one after reading the Essays : ' Though I don't know
much about driving, I shall feel a greater pleasure than
ever in getting alongside the coachman on the stage.'

Nimrod introduces his Essays in the following words,
addressed to the editor of the ' Sporting Magazine ' : ' I
am not aware of the road ever having been treated by
anyone who could do so from a real practical knowledge
of it — and it is one that will not admit of theory alone.

' There has always appeared to me to have been a
vacuum in the sporting world, and that is, not the
opinion of a sportsman who never saw a hound, not the
opinion of a coachman who never was through a dozen
turnpikes in his life, not the opinion of a judge of horses
who never bought one but to ride up Rotten Row, not
the opinion of a groom who has only had to get them
into condition for such purposes ; but the result of the
real practical observations of one who, for twenty years
of his life, has driven coach horses, purchased and ridden
hunters, and been a close observer of the management
and condition of them in the stable.

' How far I may be qualified for this task, time will
show. My title to the qualification is experience, and
that is said to make even a fool wise. I shall, therefore,
only add, that for twenty years I have been in the habit

PREFACE TO X I M ROD'S ESSAYS. 179

of seeing most of the best hounds in England, have had
a great number of valuable hunters pass through my
hands (the greater part of which were purchased young),
and have not only been a driver of my own horses of all
sorts and sizes, but have worked a great deal on the road
by day and by night, without which nothing on the
subject is to be learnt.

' In the observations which I am going to make, I
shall take a hint or two from those who have gone before
me. Mr. Beckford gives, as a reason why he did not
write on stag hunting, that he did not understand it; and
it is told of an ancient but wily Greek, who was asked
his opinion on a subject he was not master of, that he
excused himself by saying that what was to the purpose
he could not say, and what was not to the purpose he
ivoutd not say.'

N 2

i8o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

NIMROD'S ESSAYS.

THE DAWN OF COACHING.

Parva sunt hasc, sed parva ista non contemnenda— Majores nostri, maxi-
mam hanc rem fecerunt.

The first inventors of things are but clumsily handed
down to us by the ancients, although Virgil assigns a
place in heaven to those who are clever in that way.
The art of driving is of very early date, and has most
honourable mention made of it. Horace immortalises
a good coachman — 'evcJiit ad Deos' \ and Cicero gravely
asserts that Minerva was the first to drive four-in-hand.
To gain a race by coachmanship, he tells us, was next
to a triumph, at Rome ; and in Sparta it gave a man
an honourable post in the army. Homer employs
Hector and Nestor as coachmen ; and Virgil tells us
that when ^Eneas took Pandarus into his chariot to go
against Diomed, he compliments him with the choice
either to fight or to drive — thereby implying that the
latter was a post of equal honour with the former.
Pandarus however, like a good judge, declines ' having
them ' (as we should say), lest the high mettled steeds,
unused to his finger, might become unruly, and get them

THE DAWN OF COACHING. 181

into danger. That driving was in use previous to riding
horses, need not be observed to anyone acquainted
with Homer ; for among all his heroes, both Grecians
and Trojans, none of them make their appearance on
horseback but Ulysses and Diomedes.

Driving more than two horses in a chariot, however,
was, I believe, not very usual among the ancients,
although we read of Nero driving ten, and unfortunately
for his country, not breaking his neck. Homer's chariots,
for the most part, had only two horses, coupled together ;
that of Achilles had no more ; and Virgil sends a chariot
and pair to absent yEneas. Driving four grey horses
was held sacred, and not allowed even in a triumph.

Driving appears to have been practised in the earliest
ages of our own country. I believe Caesar found the
British chariots formidable, as they were armed with
scythes at their axletrees.

We have all read Ossian's magnificent description of
the car of Cachullius, and his horses, whose names he
has condescended to mention ; and which must recall
to our recollection the one Homer gives of the horses
of Pallas. His description of a chariot race is sup-
posed to be one of the finest passages in his poem,
and is only equalled by a similar effort of the Mantuan
bard, which, it has been asserted, no one could read
without his soul being as it were, mounted on the box,
and whirled along in the race.

Although the coachmanship of the ancients may have
little to do with our present method of driving, nevertheless
it may be amusing to some of your readers to refer to it in

182 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

its earliest stages, it having been the subject of much
learned controversy. It appears that the first chariot intro-
duced into the Olympic Hippodrome was drawn by four
horses, which in those times made a complete set. The
horses were ranged abreast, and the two middle ones
only harnessed by the yoke. The two out-side horses were
fastened to some other part of the chariot by their traces,
but in what manner does not appear. They had a
peculiar name for these 'out-riggers,' as we should call
them. The most curious part of their driving establish-
ment was, that they had chariot races for colts, as well
as for full-aged horses, regulating the course accordingly.
Though they do not appear to have known anything of
the 'weight for age,' yet the distance supposed to be run
by full-aged horses was about six Grecian miles, and by
colts, four ; which, as the Grecian mile is said to be
about a fifth less than ours, seems reasonable.

The chariot drawn by four colts, was introduced in
the 95th olympiad, and that with two in the 129th. We
read of a Macedonian lady, who was the first to win
with the three-year-olds, as we may conclude they were.
We can, however, find nothing by which we can judge
of their exact ages; but the Tekeiov apfxa certainly denotes
the chariot drawn by full-aged horses, and the ttojXlkqp
ap/jia that drawn by colts. The Stadium, or place where
these races were run, must have somewhat resembled
Derby race-course — one with two good sides to it, but
sharp turns at each end, as is the case with the one I
mention. A pillar was erected about the middle of the
turn, which was to be passed as near as possible, without

THE DAWN OF COACHING. 183

touching it, in the same manner as our race-horses go
around our posts. It is in allusion to this, that Horace
speaks of the ' meta evitata.' In going as near as
possible, but avoiding touching these pillars, consisted
the excellence of their art of driving; and, as Pindar's
Scholiast concludes, (from the epithet applied to the pillar),
they turned the corner no less than twelve times- in one
heat. Everyone who has ridden race horses, knows the
feel (not the pleasantest in the world) of whizzing around
a post at full speed, in the midst of eight or ten horses.
What nerves must it have required to have stood this
hustling amidst a dozen chariots ? The situation of the
man who sat as time-keeper on Lord March's carriage,
when it went twenty miles in the hour over Newmarket
heath, was comfortable, when compared with that of an
Olympic coachman. No wonder then that such high
honours were paid to the winner, and that both master
and horses were crowned, amid the applauses and con-
gratulations of the people. The spectacle must have been
grand. On the day of the race, the chariots, at a certain
signal, entered the course, according to order, settled
beforehand ; but whether they drew up for starting in a
line, abreast of each other, or promiscuously, as our race
horses do, is a point not settled. The interest excited
was prodigious, and the very highest honours were paid
to him by whose skill and courage the victory was ob-
tained. The value put upon the accomplishment of
driving is evident, from the amusing instructions of old
Nestor to his son ; as also from what Theocritus relates
of Hercules, whose father is supposed to have trusted

1 84 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

no one but himself Xo instruct him in the art of coachman-
ship, though he left his other exercises to his masters.

To drive the chariot, and with steady skill

To turn, and yet not break the bending wheel,

Amphitrion kindly did instruct his son,

Great in the art ; — -for he himself had won

Vast precious prizes on the Argive plains,

And still the chariot which he drove remains

Ne'er hurt in the course, tho' time has broke the falling reins.

I have only one other observation to make, which is
that these chariots must have been more like waggons
than carriages, and very near to the ground, or they
could not have preserved their equilibrium, when going
around the pillars at the pace they are represented to
have been driven.

ON HARNESSING.

So much for classical and celestial coachmanship.
We must now descend to the humble road, where the
modern performers are, certainly, unlike any god but
one.1 Socrates was asked what was necessary to make
a man a good musician ? His answer was, ' to become a
good musician.' So it is with a coachman. The sceptre
does not make the king ; neither does dressing, nor
looking like a coachman, make a coachman. As a cele-
brated performer 2 says, ' driving four horses is a pretty

1 Bacchus.

3 Mr. Williams, better known by the name of Chester Billy (more of him
hereafter).

ON HARNESSING. 185

art', and to do it well is not within everyone's capacity.
To enable a man to judge of this, he must be a coach-
man himself ; and, to be a coachman, it is necessary that
he have not been merely amusing himself with four of
his own highly-fed and well-broke horses — which perhaps
his own coachman has been at work with for two hours
in the morning, in his break — but he must have served a
sort of apprenticeship to it, by day and by night ; with
good horses, and with bad ; with blind and lame ; by
lamplight, and by no light l at all ; on good roads, and
on bad ; wet and dry ; drunk and sober ; with rotten
tackle, and bolting horses ; jibbers, and millers;2 heavy
loads, and weak horses ; high blowers, and queer ones ; 3
steep hills, and broken neckings ; broken axletrees, and
over-turned coaches.

When a man has had a good deal of experience in
these matters (and not before), he may lay claim to the
honourable appellation of a coachman. But how often
this claim is denied, even to those who most zealously
aspire to it, all who are acquainted with the road can
certify — for how rarely do we meet with a real ' artist ' !
The success of a coachman greatly depends on his
education. If, like Phaeton of old, he jumps on the box,
a ready-made coachman, he must expect the same fate ;
but if he has taken his degrees, and his education has
been regular, he begins with driving the leaders of a set
of horses before an experienced coachman (perhaps his

1 In a fog, when lamps are useless.

2 Kickers.

3 Subject to the meagrims.

1 86 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

father) on a respectable heavy coach. He there learns
the rudiments of his business. He is taught to know
when a horse is at work, and when he is not ; and he is
also taught how to make the best of the road. He sees
when his horses are distressed, and is taught how to
ease them ; or, if idle, how to keep them to their collar.
It is heavy zvork alone that will teach him his busi-
ness : I never saw a post-boy that ever made a good
coachman.

When a boy who intends being a coachman gets too
big to ride the leaders, he cannot do better than turn
horse-keeper to a well-horsed coach. His time will be
fully occupied, and he will learn everything relating to
harnessing, and putting horses together, according to
their different tempers ; taking notice of the alteration
the coachman makes in their coupling reins, which he
will profit by, if he have any brains in his head ; and if
he have none, he must remain a horse-keeper.

Mr. Beckford enumerates about a dozen qualifications
necessary to make a good huntsman. In my humble
opinion, there are as many essentials to a good coachman.
He should be sober, honest, civil, and good-tempered;
clean in his person, neat with his fingers, patient,
humane, wakeful, hardy, strong, active, bold, and cool
in danger. Having said this, we are not to expect a
coachman at every stage. Carthage produced but one
Hannibal !

I believe it is Ovid who tells us, that ' work well
begun is half finished ; ' and this holds good in nothing
more than in driving. If horses are not well harnessed,

ON HARNESSING. 187

they cannot work well, as much of their power is lost ;
for as many horses as there are in a coach, so will there
be as many tempers, and ways of doing their work. Some
will go as straight as an arrow out of a bow, whilst others
will hang, and roll about in all directions, which can only
be counteracted by putting them together. Horses well
harnessed are half driven.

To reduce this to theory is rather a difficult task, as
the remedies apply in so many various ways ; for the
movements of four horses in harness bear some resem-
blance to the changes on so many bells — each horse in
his respective place producing the variety. No animal is
more cunning, and often more trying to the temper, than
an old coach-horse, who is become, what is termed, a good
judge of his work. He will watch every opportunity of
easing himself at the expense of the rest of the team. If a
wheeler — when the double thong is applied to him, or if he
hears the whistle of it over his partner's back, off he goes,
and pretends to be at the top of his speed, by breaking from
the trot to a canter ; at the same time hugging, or, as the
coachman call it, 'shouldering' the pole, to the great
annoyance of his companion. Again, if he hear the point
of the thong out of the coachman's hand, he is off his
collar in an instant, as he knows he has nothing to fear
from the whip. A leader also has it in his power to
pursue the same plan ; but the greatest fault to which
leaders are subject, is, not going np to their bits — conse-
quently, not going straight, but ' hanging off,' as it is
termed, to one favourite side. The former failing may
arise from want of physical powers ; but the other is

1 88 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

invariably the effect of a bad mouth or uneven temper.
Nothing, however is more distressing to a coachman than
either of these bad qualities. His attention is always on
the rack, for, if left alone the coach would be off the road
in an instant. It also prevents his coach running straight,
thereby causing his horses to work at angles, and conse-
quently to lose part of their power. When a horse once
takes to ' hang ' in this way, he never leaves it off ; and
to prevent his tiring his driver's arm, a check rein is
generally had recourse to. It goes from the check of his
bit to the ring on the names of his partner — or, what is
better, it should run through this ring and fasten to the
buckle of his inside trace. This gives more play to the
rein, and prevents the horse's mouth getting dead, which
it is apt to do in the other case. It is astonishing what
weight some horses will hang on this rein, which their
partner must find the benefit of. Some danger, how-
ever, is always attached to a side rein, for if you want to
turn your off leader suddenly to the off side, and his
head is closely confined to the near leader of course your
intention is defeated, unless your near leader will turn
also ; and accidents have often been the consequence.

When I speak of putting horses together, I do not
exactly confine myself to the effect of traces and coupling
reins — but to putting each horse into that place where
his powers will be most effective. Coach horses on
the road are not like gentlemen's horses : they are a
medley of all sorts and sizes — consequently there may
be two strong and two weak horses in the team. If so
they should be crossed, so as not to have the strong

ON HARNESSING. 189

horses on one side, and the weak ones on the other ; as,
in that case, one side of the coach will want support, and
she will not run steady. With respect to whether
wheelers or leaders should be the most powerful, there
are two opinions amongst the fraternity. It must in
great measure depend on the roads — for if hilly, you will
want the strength at wheel. On one mechanical prin-
ciple it is also in favour of the wheeler, his power being
more effective through being near to his work. If, however,
you should have two large, and two small horses, whose
tempers will not admit of your crossing them, I have no
hesitation in saying you should put the smaller ones at
wheel, and larger ones before the bars, otherwise your
leaders, being lower than your wheelers, would be draw-
ing, as it were, downwards, which is quite at variance
with the principle of traction ; which, if ever it varies
from the straight line, should have the advantage of the
up-lifting power. We have most of us seen (if, in our
younger days, we have not done it ourselves) a postboy
or an ostler in an inn yard, put his back to the splinter-
bar of a carriage to move it. He invariably has recourse
to the up-lifting power — for he does not draw straight,
nor downwards, but heaves up the splinter- bar when he
applies his strength to it.

In harnessing horses, we should apply the power
where it is most wanting. The traces of coach horses
should be as short as possible — they cannot be too near
to their work. Those of the wheeler should just admit
of his hinder leg clearing the wheel, and those of the
leaders not more than sufficient to clear their tails of the

i go ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

bars. Nothing looks so bad as to see leaders a long
way from the end of the pole. Great attention should
be paid to the equal length of the traces.1 With respect
to the leaders, it is necessary to cross their traces when
you have one strong and one weak horse together. The
strong horse helps on the weak one, and keeps the
draught more level ; or, as the coachmen say, ' he helps
on the other side of the coach,' which is true enough ; or,
in other words, it prevents angles — the greatest obstruc-
tion to draught. Many coachmen lap their leaders'
traces in wet weather, as it prevents their galling their
sides by the friction, which is increased by wet and dirt
working up between the trace and the skin. Lapping
and crossing traces are two distinct things. In crossing,
the inside trace of one horse hooks on to the inside bar
of his partner ; but, in lapping, it only passes inside the
other horse's trace, and returns to his own bar. In the
the latter case, the lapped trace should be somewhat
longer than the other, to enable the horse to work even ;
for, if he do not work even, a sore shoulder is a certain
consequence.

It is most material that the traces of wheel horses
should be exactly level, for the reason I have before
stated. Some splinter-bars (or wheel-bars, as they are
called by others) are not quite straight, but have a little
curve inwards at each end. When this is the case, the
outside trace of a wheeler should be a hole longer than
the inside one. With leaders, this minute exactness is not

1 The wheelers' inside traces should be one hole shorter than the outside,
to enable them to pull straight. — Editor.

ON HARNESSING. 191

so essential, as, the bars being- loose, the traces will find
their own level. If a horse draw at angles, his shoulders
will be wrung, as is proved by putting leaders to work
with a main bar only, and no swing bars. This can only
happen with the mails, as all the other coaches carry a spare
swing, as well as main bar. The mail only carries the
latter, which has four trace-hooks to it for the four traces
of the leaders. It does very well for a short distance,
but if horses were to work long at it, over heavy ground,
their shoulders would be torn to pieces.

Our leaders' bars are a very pretty contrivance, and
act upon true mechanical principles. Some coachmen
chain the swing bars by two or three iron links. For
night work this is not a bad plan, as, in case of a trace
breaking or coming unhooked, the bar keeps its place,
and does not strike against the horse's hocks. In the
event, however, of a horse kicking over his bar, it is at-
tended with danger, and many have had their legs broken
in consequence. By observing the bars, we can always
tell which horse does the most work, as the free horse
will ' carry the bar,' as we call it — that is, it will be an
inch or two before that of his partner. When this is
carried too far by the free worker, his trace must be
crossed, as I observed before, or his partner will feel the
ill effects of it. The idle horse should be put off-side,
as he is more come-at-able.

The next thing to attend to about a coach horse, or
any other horse that goes in harness, is his collar. Un-
less a horse work easy in it, we cannot expect the full
benefit of his powers. If it be too short for him, he

192 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

chokes in it, and drops as though he were shot. When
I first knew the road, almost every other harness horse
had raw shoulders, and it was distressing to see them.
This evil is, in a great measure, removed, and we now
seldom see a seasoned coach horse with a broken skin.
A great preventive of sore shoulder is, having the collar
to fit close to the shoulder. It cannot fit too close, pro-
vided it comes well up to the shoulder, and does not, if I
may so express myself, stop at the neck ; for it is from
that cause that the mischief arises. When a horse
stands at ease in his collar, it is sufficient that the hand
can pass between it and the thin, just in the part where
it passes over the wind-pipe. The closer it fits in other
places, the more effectually it embraces the powers of the
horse that wears it. With a high-blower much caution is
necessary, and his collar should be stuffed a little fuller
at the points of the shoulders, so as to remove the
pressure entirely from the wind-pipe. It is not amiss to
have his collar open at the pole (the top), and made to
buckle, so that it can always be fixed to a nicety in its
proper place. The skin of some horses is by nature so
tender and irritable as to be with difficulty preserved
entire. Various are the methods to prevent the evil ; as
also the remedies to cure it. Some prefer having collars
lined with cloth, instead of leather ; and, where the work
is heavy, they are certainly less liable to wring the
shoulder, by absorbing the perspiration more readily, in
the first place, and, in the next, by admitting of their
being eased off the tender place by removing the stuffing
at pleasure, and by facing them with flocks just where

ON HARNESSING. 193

they press on the part affected. The cloth facing can
likewise be kept soft, by having it well beaten with a
stick — whereas leather will get hard by being constantly
wet, and nothing can be done with it but to keep it clean
— scraping off the sweat and dirt, and every now and
then running the oil-brush over it. With very tende?'
shoulders, nothing will do but the false collar, which
should be the last resource, for it is very unpleasant to a
horse in hot weather, as the air cannot get under it.
For gentle work, however, with gentlemen's horses, par-
ticularly those used to ride and drive, they are useful, as
they prevent collar marks, which are very unsightly.
Whenever the skin is the least wrinkled under the collar,
the hair will invariably come off, although the injury to
the skin may be but trifling.

When shoulders of unseasoned horses become raw,
time will heal them, although they go on working, with-
out any more assistance than merely keeping them clean
—and if you like — washing them with brine made strong
enough to swim an egg. Some horse-keepers never take
the collars off their horses, giving as a reason that they
are always warm and dry when the horses are put to their
coach again. Generally speaking, I should not recom-
mend this plan, as we cannot suppose a horse to enjoy
himself so much when lying down, which coach horses
commonly do at full length, as though his collar were off.
Incase, however, of a bolting horse, or a gibber, it may
be of service, for many horses will start with a warm
collar, that would not touch a cold one. The old breast
collar is nearly lost sight of. It was never calculated to

o

i94 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

give full effect to the powers of a horse in harness, but
was convenient for post horses on roads much fre-
quented, as they could be harnessed and brought out
much quicker than when collars and hames were to be
put on. They are only now to be seen on the leaders of
two or three old-fashioned coaches.

The pads of wheel horses also demand attention.
They should fit a horse's back like a well-made saddle,
and if not well stuffed they are very apt to gall them —
there being a great stress upon them when going down a
hill, or pulling up short, with a heavy load, particularly
when breeching is not used.

The pads of wheelers and leaders should fit well to
their backs, and be girthed moderately tight, for nothing
looks worse than to see them jumping about when the
horse is in action. When it happens that a horse loses
his flesh, his pad becomes too wide for him, in which
case a false one is put into it, fastened by two small
straps made to buckle over it. The middle terret in the
wheelers' pad is an improvement of late years ; and a
considerable one it is, for the leader's rein passing
through it by itself, runs more glibly than when accom-
panied by the wheelers' coupling rein, as was the case
before. The false belly-band passes under the coach
horse from one tug buckle to the other, and is quite
slack when the horse stands at ease. Its use is, to keep
the traces down when he is at work, and thereby prevent
angles in draught.

The next, and perhaps the most material part of
putting horses together, consists in the coupling reins ;

ON HARNESSING. » 195

but, as the fixing of them depends upon so many circum-
stances, no general rule can be applied. In this, how-
ever, consists the ' sine qiui non ' of horses going well
and straight in harness, and a judge will soon observe the
alteration of a single hole. I once had the pleasure of
seeing this effect produced, off-hand. I was going by a
coach, the proprietors of which I knew, and was in the
act of getting on the box with the reins in my hand,
when a celebrated performer from another coach re-
quested I would let the coachman take them, as he was
going, by the desire of his master (who was also Johnny-
raw's master), to put his team a bit straight for him, as
his horses were sinking for want of being better put
together. The importance with which these words were
uttered, added to the pleasure I was likely to receive,
brought me to the ground again, and Johnny started his
coach as soon as all was right. ' The artist ' looked on,
but said nothing till we had proceeded about four miles,
when, desiring him to pull up, he got down, and made
the necessary alterations. The effect was immediately
visible. The horses were brought closer to their work,
their heads put into their proper places, and their power
applied where it ought to be.

With respect to coupling coach horses, I have always
been of opinion that their heads, particularly wheel
horses, should not be too closely confined. I admit that
it looks well to see them ' well coupled up,' as the song
says, with their heads close together, running boldly up
to their bits ; but if you confine them too much, they

cannot apply all their power to the collar. Wheel horses

o 2

196 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

should have more liberty in their coupling reins than
leaders, not only on account of the pole, but to enable
them to quarter the ground if necessary, as also to enable
them to put themselves into a proper position to hold
back down a hill, which they cannot do if their heads are
too much confined. Admitting that some disadvantage
may arise from having the leaders' heads too near
together, I confess I like to see it. When this is the
case, they are so much easier driven. The very turn of
the wrist will affect their mouths, and, of course, they are
much safer on their feet, for, on the least false step they
make, the support of the coupling rein is immediately
felt ; whereas, but for it, they might be down before as-
sistance reached them from the coachman's hand. In my
early days throat-lashing a horse was unknown. To
blind horses it is of the greatest service, and it may be
truly observed that they could not go with safety the
pace they now do without it. Throat-lashing consists in
passing each horse's coupling rein through a ring on his
own throat-lash, previous to its being buckled to his
partner's bit. I have only one other remark to make
respecting coupling reins, which is, that as of two reins
one must be uppermost at the crossing, one should be
buckled to the horse that carries his head highest or is
apt to throw his head about, otherwise he will be con-
stantly annoying his partner's mouth. When a coach
horse runs in and bores upon his partner, thereby driving
him off his ground, a side rein is made use of. It passes
from the outside check of his bit through the outside ring
of his hames, and fastens to the tug buckle. This will

ON HARNESSING. 197

keep him straight. When a horse carries his head out-
rageously high, means should be taken to prevent it, as
he cannot see his road or work so well. With a wheeler,
what is called a bit-martingal is had recourse to. It is
fastened to the ring in the throat-hasp of the hames, and
branches off to the checks of the bit. With leaders the
remedy is a cavison martingal, as there is no ring in their
throat-hasp to buckle it to.

The draught-rein is next to be noticed. This may be
called the fellow rein to the coupling-rein ; though in fact
the coupling-rein is attached to it. The length of the
draught-rein should be to a nicety, as your power over your
horses in a straight pull depends upon it. The billet
from it passes outside each horse's neck, through the ring
on the hames, to the cheek, or to the bit, as your horse's
mouth requires. The buckles of the coupling-reins
should be nearly over the buckles of the crupper, or
about eight inches from the setting on of the tails. The
bearing-rein is a great support to a coach horse, and the
proof of it is, that if he fall down, either the bearing-rein
or the crupper is certain to break. It is impossible,
however, to answer your correspondent's question
generally, as to whether a coach horse should be beared
up tight or not. This must depend upon his mouth.
The use of a bearing-rein is to bring your horse's head
into the place where you wish it to be, so as to pull him
together. To attain this object, as in riding him, no
greater force should be used than is necessary. His
being beared up tight or not must, therefore, depend on
circumstances. If he be a stiff-necked, low-shouldered

198 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

horse, with a dead mouth, he will require his bearing-
rein to be very tight, and vice versa. When time will
not admit of taking it shorter by the buckle, giving it a
twist before putting it on the bearing hook adds to its
severity.

To attempt giving directions for curbing coach horses
is vain, for that must depend on the state of each horse's
mouth and of his temper and disposition. The bits
invented within late years, with different loop-holes in
them for the billets of the reins to be placed in, are most
useful and beneficial, as they admit of your easing or
punishing your horse's mouth as may be necessary, and
in a manner which cannot be effected by the curb-chain
alone. Horses with hard, dead mouths, require the
nicest management to render them tolerable to drive ;
and nothing contributes more to keep their mouths in
this state than curbing them up tightly, particularly
should it be accompanied by a heavy hand upon them.
We all know the effect of a severe curb-chain on a
horse, if held tightly for any length of time, when riding
him. In a race it's power is greatest, because, the short
time in which it is run, does not admit of these ill effects;
but he who rides a horse for an hour on the road or over
a country, leaning hard on the curb-rein, will soon find
his horse's mouth become hard and dead. To ride or
drive horses with pleasure, and to advantage, their
mouths must be played with and humoured ; and no
doubt, they themselves equally find the benefit of a light
finger. Coachmen sometimes put the curb-chain into
the mouth, across the tongue, instead of under the lip, as

POLING- UP AND BREECHINGS. 199

it often causes a horse to play with his bit, and renders
his mouth lighter. When a coach horse gets a trick of
getting the cheek of his bit into his mouth, a round piece
of leather should be fastened to it to prevent him ; for
when he does so, he is dangerous, as no coachman can
hold him.

POLING-UP AND BREECHINGS.

The most dangerous horse of any in a coach is, what
coachmen call a ' stiff-neck'd one ' — that is, one which in
going down a hill, instead of inclining his head towards
his partner, and throwing out his quarters so as to place
himself in a position to hold back the coach, tzvists his
head the other way, looking, as it were, over one shoulder,
and with the other, what we call ' shouldering the pole,'
or pushing it against the other horse. When a horse
does this, pulling at him is useless ; and nothing will
keep the coach in the road but whipping his partner up to
him — and if that will not do — crossing the road quickly
with the leaders, which I shall explain in another place.
Numberless have been the accidents which horses of this
description have occasioned in hilly countries ; — for the
best coachman in England is at no certainty with them.
I cautioned a coachman against one of them in the — - —
Mail, a short time since, but he persevered with him
until he upset his coach, and mischief ensued.

In answer to your correspondent's query respecting
pole piecing,1 or poling-up, coach-horses, no general rule

1 We make a verb or two now and then on the road.

2oo ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

can be applied, as so many circumstances must be con-
sulted. For London streets, and for the roads in the
neighbourhood of London, horses may be poled-up as
tight as you please — and for gentlemen's pair-horse work,
the tighter the better, as the stoppages are so frequent
and so sudden : but for general road work, the case is
very different. In the first place, the state of the road
must be considered — for if rough and full of chucks,1
it would shake a horse to pieces to pole him up tight.
Also on many roads where Mr. M'Adam has not been
at work, there are ruts, and, consequently, quarters. In
this case, a wheel-horse, must have some length of pole-
piece, or he cannot take the quarter, and would be always
rlounderincr in the rut. A horse that is tender on his
feet must not be poled-up tight, or he will feel the ill
effects of it ; neither must those whose shoulders are
tender be too much confined in this respect. A blind
horse likes to have his pole-piece rather short, as he feels
a support in it ; and it is better that he should hang on
that than on his coupling-rein. If a horse is clumsy on
his legs, a short pole-piece is useful ; as in case of his
dropping it will catch him, and help him to save himself.
I have seen a horse dragged on his side by his pole-chain
for twenty yards in slippery weather, and nothing much
the matter.

There is no part of putting horses together in which
it is more necessary to attend to circumstances, than in
their pole-pieces. Some, whose tempers are easily
ruffled, will not suffer themselves to be poled-up tight,

1 A word of our own.

POLING- UP AND BREECHINGS. 201

as the confinement is more than they can bear. I have
known several that were fidgety, and even dangerous,
when first put to their coach, stand very quiet when let
out two or three links in their pole-chain ; and some that
would never suffer themselves to be poled-up at all, till
they had gone a mile or two on the road. There was a
remarkable instance of this in a capital little grey mare
that ran many years in the Worcester Mail. Her ground
was from Worcester to Bengeworth — fifteen miles. At
Worcester she would stand poled-up, perfectly quiet, for
a quarter of an hour, amidst the rattling of a carriage,
drums and fifes, &c. ; but at the other end, it was with
difficulty she could be put to the coach at all. When the
coachman, guard, and passengers were up, and all was
right, she was brought to the coach, with her head
towards it — the pole-chain just hooked in the ring of her
hames — and the leader's reins run through her terrets —
when she was turned quickly around, pushed up to the
pole, and with the assistance of three men she was
started. One of them reached over the traces of the
other wheel-horse to slip one of hers on the roller.
Another, on the same side, fixed her coupling-reins ;
whilst the third put on her outside trace, and poled her
up, if he could — but this was a service of danger, and
could not always be done until she had gone some
distance on the road. To account for this would puzzle
a philosopher ; but it may be reasonably conjectured that
something had affronted or alarmed her when first put to
the coach at Bengeworth, which she had never forgiven
or forgotten. She was in the hands of a very good

202 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

coachman — poor George Taylor, who died last year, land-
lord of the 'White Hart' inn at Broadway, now kept by
his widow — or accidents must have been occasioned by
her vagaries.

Some coachmen pole up their horses very tight
because they will have less trouble in driving them ; but
generally speaking, they must suffer by it — particularly
with heavy loads — for there is always some play in a
pole even on good roads, and much more on those that
are rough and shaking, which must be distressing to
i houldcrs and forelegs, especially if the pole does not fit
well in the futchells. With respect to hilly countries, to
which I have been much accustomed, I have always
found that the generality of horses hold back their coach
better when their pole-pieces are of a moderate length
than when too close to their pole-hook — taking care that,
when at the full extent of it, their hinder legs clear the
fore-wheel. When a horse has no breeching, he requires
to be a hole or two nearer to his pole, as, when in the
act of holding back, his collar gets more forward than
when he has breechings, unless a false martingal be
used.

As all mail and stage-coaches, as well as all four-horse
coaches belonging to gentlemen dragsmen, have chain
pole-pieces which hook, instead of buckling, as was the
case with the leatfier ones, care must be taken that
the hook be fixed with the point downwards, otherwise
it may fall out, or catch in the bits of the horses. If pole-
pieces are too slack, the hook will sometimes shake out ;
for which reason coachmen who work by night are apt to

POLING-UP AND BREECHINGS. 203

tie up their horses tighter than they would otherwise do,
to make safe.

Much attention should be paid to the sound state of
the reins ; and as soon as a coachman perceives them
begin to wear thin — which they first do in those parts
which run through the terrets and the rings of the names,
he should take his knife and cut them directly. His
horse-keeper then must get them repaired, which, per-
haps, as is too often the case, he would otherwise neglect
to do. Some of the most dreadful accidents which have
happened on the road, have been occasioned by reins
breaking, when all command over horses is lost. This,
however, can only occur from carelessness, as it is not
in the power of any coachman, however strong, to break
them from his box, if they are sound and perfect. Indeed
I shall, in the course of my remarks on the road, take
occasion to show that forty-nine out of fifty of the
accidents which we hear of are the consequence of care-
lessness alone. Pole-pieces to coaches seldom break,
being, as I before observed, made of strong chainwork ;
but the neckings (straps), which confine the names at the
top of the collar, often give way from the same cause —
neglect ; as also do the throat-hasps (iron links) of the
names, to which the rings are attached that the pole
chains run through. Particular attention should be paid
to these points ; for, where there is no breeching used,
the stress on the necking is considerable ; and with
breeching, it is equally so on the throat-hasps and rings.
In night work accidents often happen from neckings
giving way, which sometimes cannot be perceived by

204 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

lamplight until a coach comes to push upon the horses
going down a hill, and then danger is at hand. The
greatest care, therefore, should be taken to see that these
straps are sound for horses that work at night.

The only material part of the harness of a coach
horse which now remains to be described, is the breech-
ings ; and in answer to your correspondent's query as to
their utility, I must, in the first instance, inform him that
there are two opinions respecting them, on the road,
amongst coachmen and proprietors. Many of the former,
confident in their own performances, dislike them, as
cumbersome to their horses, particularly in hot weather ;
and say, further, that however useful they may be in
holding back when necessary, yet they give them a trick
of ' sitting upon them,' as they term it, whenever an oppor-
tunity offers, and not getting away from their coach
when wanted to do so. Many proprietors object to them,
because they prevent coachmen from chaining a wheel
down hill which, but for them, they could not go down
without, thereby injuring their horses' legs. Mr. Jolly, who
horses so many coaches below Oxford, on the Birmingham
and Worcester roads, will not suffer a breeching in his
stable, for this reason. As proprietors now mile all their
coaches, the wear and tear of the wheel, by chaining it,
is immaterial to them ; and indeed, with the exception
of the mails, it is equally so to those who supply the
coaches, as slippers or skids are now generally made use
of, to lock the wheels in. That was a very good con-
trivance, if it could have been brought to bear, for which
a patent was obtained about two years since, to enable

POLING-UP AND BREECHINGS. 205

the guard to chain the wheel of a coach, without getting
down ; as it not only saved time and trouble, but might
have been most serviceable to prevent accidents from a
bolting horse, or the coach getting the better of the
horses, or the horses getting the better of the coach,
which will sometimes be the case. By a very simple
contrivance -a jack and two pulleys — the slipper was let
down so as to meet the wheel when in motion. It was
wound up again into its place by the same means ; but it
was, unfortunately, found to be inefficient, as the line
would not slide, neither would the pulleys work, when
clogged with mud or frozen dirt. It is to be hoped,
however, the plan may yet be perfected, as instrumental
to the safety of those who travel by coaches.

Proprietors aho object to breechings on another score.
They know that when a coachman has breechings on his
wheelers, he gains the time otherwise taken up in lock-
ing and unlocking the wheel down the hills, by going
down them without : but then they know that this is not
done without risk to the passengers, and consequently to
their purses, as the stress on the pole, pole-pieces, neck-
ings, &c, as well as on the reins, is considerable — to say
nothing; of the wear and tear of their horses' lees. On
the other hand, clever and experienced coachmen will tell
us, that the danger in this case, with horse and tackle to
be depended upon, is not so great as that created by lock-
ing the wheel, by which, particularly in frosty weather,
many coaches are overturned from what is called ' striking,'
which a locked wheel always does, more or less, occasion-
ing a considerable swing to a top-heavy load. There is

2o6 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

another objection to a locked wheel. The chain may-
break when a coach is going fast down a hill, trusting to
the security of it ; or if a slipper or skid, the wheel may
fly out, by a sudden jerk of the road, which often happens
where it is rough and stony. In frosty weather, when
the road is glazed as it were, neither slipper nor chain
are of much use, and the only way in which a wheel can
then be tied to effect, is by a chain, so contrived as to
have it go around the felly of the wheel, instead of around
the spoke, taking care that it pass under the tire, just
where it takes the ground. — The roughness of the links
then stays the wheel, whereas the smooth and polished
surface of the skid would cause it to glide over the ice
like a skate. A passenger should never put his head
out of a coach window on the side on which a wheel is
chained, for should the chain break anywhere near the
perch, it would be instant death to him.

From what I have said respecting the comparative
advantage of locking a wheel, or having breeching to
coach horses, it appears that much may be said on both
sides. With heavy work, and steep hills, either one or
other is necessary ; but upon the whole, I should, on
most occasions, prefer breechings, as safer, with top-heavy
loads, to the locked wheel, if proper attention be paid to
the tackle. Where the hills are very steep, and the
loading high, both are at times not more than necessary
to insure safety. It is wonderful what a steep hill some
horses will take a load down, with breechings on them,
if the road be smooth ; but when there are chucks and
ruts in it, there is always a chance of the pole snapping.

POLING-UP AND BREECHINGS. 207

I was treated last summer with a show-off of what horses
could do in this way, when in the hands of ' an artist ; '
but the twisting of the pole seemed almost more than
the best ash timber could bear, and the prospect was
by no means agreeable. It is also surprising to see what
a load some horses will hold back without breechings ;
but this cannot be done without their having a distres-
sing weight on their backs, and consequently, on their
fore legs, as all the stress of holding back lies in the tug-
straps, which come from the pads to the tugs of the
collar. In this case a false martingal is of great use :
it passes from the belly band, between the fore legs, to
a link of the throat hasp in the names, and, by that
means, prevents the collar from getting forward on the
neck, when the horse hangs back at his pole-chain.
These difficulties, however, are obviated by breechings,
which are, certainly, much in favour of horses' legs.
When I come to my intended observations on coaches
descending hills, I may have something more to say on
this subject ; but I shall dismiss it for the present, and
proceed to another contested point among our ' prime
ministers ' — and that is, whether it is better to drive four
horses with short or long wheel-reins.

It may be scarcely necessary to remark, that the
difference between the short and long wheel-rein is this.
With the former, the rein terminates in the coachman's
hand ; and with the latter, it runs though it, in the same
manner as that of the leaders'. Driving- with the long
wheel-rein is chiefly confined to London coachmen, and
a few swells in the country ; for, taking England through-

2o8 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

out, ninety-nine out of a hundred make use of the short
one. Most gentlemen coachmen, of the new school,
drive with the long one ; and ' Gentleman Taylor' on
the ' Southampton Telegraph,' says, ' nothing is so low as
a short wheel-rein.' Another flashy coachman says, no
man should drive a horse for him with short wheel-reins ;
but all this, under all circumstances, does not settle the
point.

I perceive that since the above was forwarded to you,
you have been favoured with some remarks on coaching,
by your correspondent Jehu. As another of your corre-
spondents observes, the subject is a ' new one,' the field
is open, and I hope Jehu will give us something new.
It does not require an Irishman to say, that a man may
not be quite at home when he is on the road — but I
suspect Jehu never ' had hold of them,' when the names
flew open, even with a breeching, or he would have
found it of little use. He will find it stated by me, that
" When a horse holds back without a breeching, the
stress lies in the tug-straps, which come from the pad
to the tugs of the collar.' Were the ' whole power of re-
sistance to rest on the horse s withers? as Jehu states, it
would not only pull him down, but the necking would
break before the coach had gone twenty yards down a
hill. My father was a literary man, and knew nothing
of sporting in any way, but whenever he heard me speak-
ing on the subject, and not making use of technical
language he invariably corrected me. Jehu speaks of
'the pole issuing from the splinter bar,' and being

LONG AND SHORT WHEEL-REINS. 209

' snapped in the socket." This is not the first time I have
found the word ' socket ' figuratively employed ; but I
never found it applied to the futchells of a coach. A
little opposition, however, is the life of ' the road,' and
there is no getting on without it. If, therefore, Jehu
finds me off the road, I hope he will pull me up ; as I
shall not fail to do by him if he continue the subject ;
for, as the Vicar of Wakefield's son found out, on his
arrival in Holland, that before he could teach the
Dutch English, it was, unfortunately, necessary that he
himself should understand Dutch ; so we must neither
of us attempt to teach others what we do not know
ourselves.

LONG AND SHORT WHEEL-REINS.

Whether it is better to drive four horses with the
long or short wheel-rein, must, as I before observed,
depend upon circumstances. As for myself, I was
taught with the short, by the celebrated Jack Bayley —
no mean authority — when he was on the Birmingham
' Old Prince,' from Oxford to London, and when, on the
Salt Hill Ground, he instructed the Etonians, and brought
out some first-class men in his way. Bayley was a first-
rate coachman of the old school, and had different tackle
to deal with to what is to be found at the present time
on that road ; and the man who could now bring the
' Old Prince ' over that oround with four tons weight
about her, at the rate of eight miles an hour, could not

p

210 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

have done it in his tirris. Jack was a long time on this
coach, an honest and faithful servant to his employers ;
and, as is the lot of many others, who dole out their in-
structions to their superiors (without the use of the whip),
received a comfortable sinecure for his trouble — the driv-
ing club having honoured him with a salary of two hun-
dred per annum for his life, on his retiring from the box,
though he did not enjoy it more than two years. When
a man, long accustomed to travel sixty miles a day on a
coach-box, comes to exchange the clear and bracing air
which he meets with on the road, for that of a tap-room,
hot rum and water, and tobacco-pipes, surrounded by old
acquaintances still at work, the chances are much against
him, and nature soon says ' enough,' as was the case
with him.

Although taught with the short wheel-rein, yet hav-
ing, in my noviciate, been much in the tandem line, and
having, when a young one, driven a unicorn curricle for
two years, I was compelled to the use of the long one, so
that each has been familiar to me in its turn ; and as far
as my experience has led me, each has its advantages.
As, however, it is a point a good deal contested on the
road, I will state, to the best of my ability, their merits
and demerits — leaving your readers to decide for them-
selves ; only observing, as Sir Roger de Coverley did
before me, that ' much maybe said on both sides !' Were
I to be asked to drive Shackell's Reading coach, the
first stage out of London, I should say, ' Give me the
lono- wheel-rein ; ' and if I were to take hold of ' three
blind ones and a bolter,' I should prefer the short

LONG AND SHORT WHEEL-REINS. 211

one ; and in the course of my observations I will tell
you why.

I hope I shall not give offence when I say that it is
not because London coachmen generally use the long
wheel-rein, that it must be the best ; for although London,
as relates to most other occupations in life, contains the
best performers in their way, yet there are more bad,
powerless coachmen out of London, in proportion to
their number, than are to be found in any other place or
country. There are not half the difficulties to call the
power and skill into action, on their fine roads, and with
their picked cattle that there are in the country ; and
being able to hold their horses together, and knowing
their right hand from their left, is nearly all that half of
them have got to do. As to driving in London streets,
no coachmanship is required there, as is proved by
the ragamuffins — I cannot call them coachmen — who
drive, by dozens, the short four-horse coaches in and out
of London, every hour in the day. In the streets there
are always two coachmen at work, as I avoid you, and
you avoid me ; and God help the passengers by these
coaches, if it were not so. London coachmen know but
little of heavy loads and weak horses, or bad roads and
steep hills, when skill, judgment, and coachmanship are
necessary.

With respect to long wheel-reins, I am ready to

admit that when horses go straight and well up to their

bits, a coachman has more power over them generally,

(though not individually), than with the short ; and the

proof of this will be found in almost every coachman

p 2

212 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

when he comes to go down a steep hill, drawing the
wheel-rein through his hand, in which case he is at that
time, certainly, driving with the long one. If he trust to
the short one, without pulling it through his hand, he
will find that, as the horses in the position of holding
back their coach, will be so much nearer to the box than
when they are on the collar, the rein, if left resting on
the hand, will be almost useless, by reason of his being
obliged to draw his hand up to his chin, to obviate the
difference of situation in which his horses are placed ;
and then he has but little power over them, for that
' chin-work,' as we call it, will never do. If he do not
draw his hand up in this way, he must divide his reins
with his other hand, in which case he loses the use of his
whip, which is more often wanting in descending than in
ascending a hill, and is frequently the only means of pre-
venting a coach being upset. When, however, a coach-
man has drawn all his reins through his hands, and got
fast hold of them, he has got his horses, as it were, in a
vice, and his other hand is at liberty for any emergency
that may occur. An advantage also attends long wheel-
reins in the event of a wheel-horse falling ; for, if he gets
quite down on his side, he cannot pull the coachman
from his box, which has happened, and proved fatal, to
many who drive with the short one ; — not, by the bye,
that I have any idea of a man, awake to his situation, as
a coachman, and seated properly and firmly on his box,
with his feet out before him, being pulled off by a horse
dropping in this manner ; but if he sits, as many of the
awkward ones do, either sideways, or with his legs crossed

LONG AND SHORT WHEEL-REINS. 213

and his belly hanging over his knees, then such an acci-
dent is not to be wondered at. Take, for instance, such
a man as Black Will, late on the Blenheim, but now
on one of Costar's Oxford coaches, and I have no idea
of his being pulled from his box by a horse dropping,
although driving with the short wheel-rein. At all
events, when the horse is found to be past recovery,
by opening the hand the danger is removed, as the rein
then falls out.

Another advantage attends the long wheel-rein, and
that is, in case of a wheel-horse bolting at starting his
coach, so as to snap both his traces (no uncommon oc-
currence, and I saw one in the Chester mail break three
pair before they could start him) ; the coachman is then
safe, whereas with the short one it is ten to one but he is
pulled from the box with a violent jerk. Several lives
have been lost in this way. In quick opposition work,
also, long wheel-reins are best, as there is no occasion to
buckle them (the buckle being at the end instead of at
the side) till the coachman is up, and then it is immaterial
whether they are buckled at all — a consideration in
minute and half time. Indeed, I know one or two swells
who have banished the buckles altogether from the
leaders', as well as the wheelers' reins, on the ground of
their being in the way of expeditious changing ; but this
must be awkward for their horse-keepers, as without
the buckles they cannot tell the near from the off rein,
when harnessing their horses, and then the coupling reins
would be as often wrong as right.

On the other hand, there are advantages, and no

214 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

trifling ones, attending the short wheel-rein. In the first
place, there is a neatness about it. There is not that
bunch of reins hanging down a coachman's knees in ap-
parent confusion, which is occasioned by the use of the
long wheel-rein. In the second place, the short wheel-
rein being so completely separated from the leader's rein,
is much more handy, and more come-at-able with a cold
hand or clumsy finger than when both run through the
hand. But the chief advantage the short wheel-rein has
over the loner one is, as it relates to the near-wheel horse.
If he is to be got at in a hurry > a mistake may easily
be made with the long one, in consequence of its running
immediately under the leader s rein, and being completely
confined by it. When in this place, it can only be got at
by fishing for it under that rein, or by drawing it behind
the left hand, in both which cases a difficulty may arise.
The leading rein passing over it completely prevents
its beino" shifted. With the short one a coachman has
nothing to do but to catch hold of it anywhere to the
right of his left hand, where it is quite free, and a pull
there operates either way, without the possibility of a
mistake. If he wants to pull his wheebhorses to the off
side of the road, he has nothing to do but to pull the rein
to the right, and if to the near side, the same pull does
it, only suffering the rein to run through his left hand,
and when far enough to command his horses, gripping it
firmly in that hand till he has got his coach into its place,
and then letting it slide back to its original even bearing.
Use, however, in a great measure regulates these matters ;
but, were a coachman accustomed to the short wheel-

LONG AND SHORT WHEEL-REINS. 215

rein put to catch hold of four queer ones with the long
one, he would be much at fault ; and I have no hesitation
in saying that, with the generality of coachmen and the
generality of roads at a distance from the metropolis, the
short one is the most safe and convenient. With your
nimble-fingered London coachmen of the first order, and
with horses all running up to their bits on roads like barn
floors, I admit the superiority of the other. With horses
of this description, and with gentlemen's horses, it may
have the preference ; and I should recommend all young
beginners to accustom themselves to the use of it.
Having acquired the use of the long, the short one can
at any time be had recourse to, and, under some circum-
stances, it is certainly the best.

To make myself perfectly understood on this subject
I find it necessary, as the lawyers say, to state a case.
All roads are not macadamised ; if they were, the reins
on some coaches might be fastened to the foot-board, and
the horses might gallop from end to end of their ground,
with only an automaton to pull right or left. This, how-
ever, is not the case everywhere ; and on many roads
where all sorts of coaches travel, there are deep ruts and
false quarters ; that is to say, ruts, which, if a coach goes
into them, will let her in deep enough to upset her. In
the latter case, we will suppose a coachman driving four
awkward horses with the long wheel-rein and a top-heavy
load. He sees one of these false quarters on the off-side
just before him : and his near wheel horse is one of those
stiff-necked ones that refuses to answer to the rein, with-
out assistance from his partner. What is then to be.

216 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

done, for it must be done quickly ? If he catch hold of
him with the long wheel-rein, he can only do it in the
front of his left hand, and there he must hold him,
leaving his whip-hand, which in co-operation with the
rein, can alone save him — engaged and useless : whereas,
with the short wheel-rein, he would have nothing to do
but to draw it smartly through his left hand, which would
hold it fast, leaving the right at liberty to whip the other
horse up to the pole, and thereby get the coach out. It
may be said the long wheel-rein coachman may fish for
his rein bcJiind his hand. He may do so, but he may
not find it. His hands may be numbed with cold, or it
may be jumbled in with the others. I am also inclined
to think there cannot be that distinction in the feel of
wheel-horses and leaders with the long wheel-rein that
there is with the short ; and I have particularly noticed
this with London coachmen when bringing their coaches
into town. For instance, when it happens, as it per-
petually does, in the streets, that the leaders are stopped
very suddenly, the long wheel-rein does not afford that
immediate check to the wheelers, to prevent them run-
nine on the bars that the short rein does. It is true that
the whole team may be stopped quickly with all the
reins running through the left hand ; but not so when
taken separately. There is not that independence
between leaders and wheelers ; and when I see a man
pulling at his horses with long wheel-reins, it always
appears as if there were but one mouth to pull at (as in
riding a horse), instead of four. There is also a very
unsightly, as well as uncoachmanlike method that many

LONG AND SHORT WHEEL-REINS. 217

of the long-rein performers have adopted, of pulling up
their horses ; and that is, instead of shortening their reins
by drawing them through their left hand, they raise that
hand as high as their chin, clawing the reins with the
other, till their coach is stopped, thereby losing the use
of the whip-hand, which, at all times, and on all oc-
casions, should be at liberty.

When I have mentioned one other circumstance
attending the short wheel-rein I shall dismiss the sub-
ject ; but I have been thus prolix in consequence of the
wish of some of your correspondents to be particularly
informed on the points in question. I have said, when
quickness of execution is wanting, the short rein has
the advantage, and I will attempt to prove it. We will
suppose a coachman taking his coach into a narrow gate-
way, where the turn is to the right. After having
pointed his leaders into it, he finds he has not taken
ground enough, for his coach to clear the offside rate-
post. No assistance is to be expected from any other
horse in his team but the off-wheeler. With the short
wheel-rein, one pull with the right hand, letting the rein
draw through the left does the business, as it immediately
leaves the right at liberty to whip that wheeler up to
the pole ; but with the long rein, he must be lost nine
times out of ten, as he would not let it out of his hand
to enable him to whip his horse, and not more than one
horse in ten could, in such a situation, bring his coach up
without.

I must explain one apparent inconsistency in what I
have said. I have stated that when a short wheel-rein

218 ANNALS OP THE ROAD.

man goes to descend a hill, he draws the rein through
his hand, and is, at that moment, driving with the long
wheel-rein. It is true that the rein does not then rest on
his hand ; but from the comparatively short length of it
when compared with the usual length of the professed
long rein, it only forms a sort of bow behind the coach-
man's hand, which prevents a possibility of a mistake, in
catching hold of it, either by day or by night.

STANHOPES AND FASHIONABLE CARRIAGES.

To spend our lives amid one set of unchanging objects
would afford us neither variety of sensations, images, nor
ideas — all around us would have the sameness of a cell ;
whereas travelling frees us from prejudices, and enlarges
the sphere of our imaginations, by comparisons and
observations essential to the character of a man. In
humbler English, when on the road, every scene is a
picture ; and, as Sterne observes, I pity the person who
can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry, ' 'Tis all
barren ! ' For my own part, I have always filled a
bumper to my favourite toast — ' As we travel through
life, may we live on the road ! ' Solomon himself had
his hobbyhorse, therefore I may be allowed to have
mine ; and I am free to admit, that so fond am I of the
road, that when I have been in London more than a
week, the sight of even the Exeter waggon does me
good. As for Mr. Waterhouse's yard, when his seven
mails are starting, it has more charms for me than the

STANHOPES AND FASHIONABLE CARRIAGES. 219

finest scene in an opera. So much, then for taste, about
which philosophers have long" since given up disputing.
The music for me is the music of the bars ; and the road,
after all, is the grand theatre of life.

Had our present expedition in travelling been pro-
posed to our ancestors, as a possible thing, they would
have scouted it, as the illusion of a madman. So lately
as 1742, the coach from London to Oxford was two days
on the road, taking ten hours to go half way : the whole
distance is now done — without the least distress, without
the point of the thong being out of the coachman's hand
— in six hours. So much for the art of mechanism (for
to this, after all, is it due), reduced to the practical pur-
poses of life ! This, however, is but the beginning.
The master of mechanics laughs at strength ; and if a
second Daedalus 1 do not spring up among us, and teach
us to fly, there is little doubt but that, either by steam or
air, before the present century expires, carriages will be
transported without animal power.2 Should this not be
the case, such improvements are making in roads and
carriages, that it looks as if there were no limitation to
draught. Indeed, it is now upon record, that, assisted
by the true principles of traction, a common cart-horse
drew fifty-five tons six cwt. six miles in one hour and
forty minutes, though he had the friction of twenty-four
wheels to oppose him.

1 Since I wrote the above, I have been informed that a patent has been
applied for by a person who has invented a machine, in which we are to
travel (in vacuo) at the rate of two hundred miles per hour, and that the first
trial of it is to be from London to Brighton in fifteen minutes.

2 How prophetic ! — Editor.

220 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Having spoken of air, I beg leave to observe that one
of the first mechanics of the day is now actively employed
in experiments to produce a propelling power by the aid
of this element, which shall be available to the draught of
carriages, and in which he indulges the most sanguine
expectations of success. How far the introduction of it,
as a substitute for horses, may be beneficial to such an
agricultural country as this, I leave wiser heads to deter-
mine, and there will be plenty of time to consider the
point. Should, however, any man have proposed a
wager, even twenty years ago, that we should live to see
the time when a coachman shall drive a coach a hun-
dred miles a day, for two years in succession, without
resting one day, the odds would have been much against
him, if the task had not been deemed beyond human
exertion. A man by the name of Thoronghgood, how-
ever, has done it, for more than two years, on the
Norwich ' Times,' and we must admit that he is not
badly named.

It is something remarkable, that, when writing on
the subject of air, a balloon was hovering majestically
over my head. I arose to look at it, but the sight
afforded me neither satisfaction nor pleasure, and I wish
a stop were put to these aerial travellers. We are, per-
haps wisely, denied a road through the elements, lest our
curiosity might tempt us to soar too high ; and as to the
art of ballooning, there is nothing in it. The very hum-
blest grub sets us the example ; for, though the gossamer
spider is heavier than the air that surrounds her, yet the
web she weaves is so much lighter that she travels upon it

STANHOPES AND FASHIONABLE CARRIAGES. 221

with the greatest safety. The spicier, however, has but
one current of air to contend with ; but the man in a
balloon has he knows not how many, and he is at the
mercy of them all. In short, a balloon can never be
applied to the useful purposes of life, and is therefore a
waste of time, money, and labour.

In the progress of these letters, it is my intention to
enter very fully into the various departments of the road.
I do this, partly in fulfilment of my promise in my former
communications ; partly at the request of my friends,
amongst whom I have the honour of reckoning an
amateur of upwards of twenty years' standing — an ex-
cellent judge, and who has expressed his approbation, in
strong terms, of what I have already written on this sub-
ject ; and partly with a view that good will finally result
to the public from some practical observations which I
shall offer, as relating to prevention of accidents to pas-
sengers by the public coaches, and from which accidents
the pitb lie have a strong claim on the proprietors to be made
more secure than they now arc. I shall confine myself at
present to what we should call ' light summer work,' and
touch a little on the business of the day.

When I first started in life, a gentleman would have
been ashamed of being seen in the streets of London in a
gig ; whereas, now, he is almost ashamed of being seen
out of one — the use of them having nearly superseded
that of legs, or a saddle-horse. So much, in the first
place, for fashion ; though, at the same time, it must be
observed that the London coachmakers have to thank
themselves for this great addition to their trade ; for, to

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

their credit be it spoken, in point of neatness, utility, and
safety, they have accomplished more than their most
sanguine hopes could have anticipated, in their improve-
ments on the old model of a one-horse chair — the term
by which a gig was originally denominated ; and even
Royalty itself is now to be seen in a modern Dennet or
Stanhope. The latter takes its name from the Hon.
Fitzroy Stanhope, a coachman of well-known celebrity,
and who, we are unfortunately obliged to remember, had
his foot and instep amputated in consequence of being
upset in a gig.

Independent of the coachmakers, there are two other
classes of persons which widely partake of the profits
arising from the unbounded circulation of these two-
wheeled vehicles; and those are — the medical profession,
and undertakers ; for among the whole catalogue of the
daring pursuits of an Englishman, there is not a tithe of
the fractures, amputations, and deaths that the system
of gig-driving produces ; and this, mainly, because this
said art is practised by thousands who know nothing
about it. Knowledge, however, in this instance, is often
put to defiance, as several old and experienced road-
coachmen have been killed out of gigs. For my own
part, when I see a modern gig with a powerful thorough-
bred horse, full of condition, in its shafts, two similes
always present themselves. First, it reminds me of a
boat, inasmuch as there is only a one-inch plank between
those who sit in it, and eternity ; and, secondly, it brings
to my imagination, a canister tied to a dog's tail.
Amongst all my acquaintance, I scarcely know of one

STANHOPES AND FASHIONABLE CARRIAGES. 22,3

who has not had an escape out of a gig ; and as for
myself, I have had a dozen — some of which I now
shudder to think of. Some ridiculous scenes, however,
often occur. A brother-in-law of mine was once return-
ing from shooting with a friend, whom nothing would
satisfy but taking a favourite pointer into the gig with
them to save his feet. They had not proceeded far,
when the dog contrived to get one of his paws beyond
the footboard, and stuck his claws, unobserved by the
party into the horse's rump. The moment the mill
began his friend jumped out ; and recovering his legs,
ran after the gig (which the horse was kicking to atoms
with my brother-in-law in it), crying out, ' Take care of
my new gun ! Pray take care of my new gun ! ' My
poor brother-in-law, however, had enough to do to take
care of himself ; for although he escaped with his life, he
pitched upon his head in the road, and feels the effects of
his fall to this day.

A still better anecdote than this is related of a eentle-
man in Staffordshire. Meeting with his nephew one
day in London, they began to compare notes, and it
appeared that each was bound for Oxford, the next
morning. ' How do you travel ?' said the nephew. ' I
shall post it,' replied the uncle. ' You had better come
with me in my gig,' rejoined the nephew : ' we shall do it
comfortably in ten hours.' 'D — n your gigs!' said the
old one : ' I hate the very sight of them.' ' Oh,' replied
the young one, ' mine is the quietest horse in England.
A lighted cracker tied to his tail would not alarm him ;
and as to milling, he does not know what it is.'

224 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

On hearing this, and ruminating on the expense of
posting, the old gentleman consented to the proposal,
and at eight o'clock the next morning they were under
weigh. When they had got out of the park, the uncle
told his nephew that he had been brushing up his recol-
lection, and he believed he could say, that this was only
the fifth time he ever had been in a gig; m njs Jjfe> 'Oh,'
said the nephew, ' my horse beats you by chalks, for he
never was. It is needless to add, that the old gentleman
began to claw, (as we call it on the road), and was out of
the gig in the twinkling of his eye.

One great advantage arising from the present style of
gig-building is, that it has pretty nearly exploded tandem-
driving, as the low seat of the driver precludes his having
any power over a leader. In a former letter, I ventured
to assert that hunting bag foxes with harriers was only
doing things by halves, but driving tandems partakes
still more of the mongrel system.

It cannot, however, be denied, but that in the hands
of a skilful tandem-driver (quite distinct, I repeat, from a
coachman), where a leader and wheeler will shift their
places, in no way can the power of horses in harness be
so available as in a light tandem j1 but under any circum-
stances danger is at hand, as a man is always at the
mercy of his leader. It is told of a gentleman who was
conscious of this power in his horse, that, being on the
point of starting for a drive out of some yard in London,

1 The shape of the original tandem cart body was taken from the front
boot of a coach with box seat, and having a seat, such as the guard had on
the mails, at the back. — Editor.

STANHOPES AND FASHIONABLE CARRIAGES. 225

and being- asked by a friend which road he was going,
he replied, 'You must ask my leader, for I cannot tell you
till I get into the street! This answer was no less candid
than true ; for if a leader make a sudden stop — having
no coupling rein to secure him — he has it all his own
way ; and the best coachman in England can have no
power over him, for the moment he stops his reins are
useless. The only chance a man has of being sure of
his mark with a tandem, is to have a leader that will run
well up to his bit, and want nothing" but holding, as then,
by keeping him in his place, and making the wheeler
work up to him, the draught may be shared between
them ; but the moment the point of the thong goes out
of the hand of the driver, that moment things go wrong.
The two best tandem drivers that I ever came across in
my travels through life, are a gentleman by the name of
Wetherall, who resides in Gloucestershire, and a Captain
Brydges, of Hampshire. Were a leader in a tandem
always running home, as it is with a coach-horse, the
case would be much altered.

Though fashion, in everything, bears sovereign sway,
yet there may be a tandem-driver or two yet left, and to
such I offer the following hint : — The beauty of coach-
manship with four in hand, is to point the leaders, in
making a turn, so that the wheelers may follow nearly in
their tracks. This, however, cannot be done with a
tandem in a short turn, and for this reason : Unless you
reduce your leader's draught, the wheel-horse cannot
contend against his increased power, and, though never
so good a whipped horse, he will be drawn out of

Q

226 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

his ground by the excess of the power which his
partner acquires by being so much before him. The
leader, therefore, must be always more or less eased
of his draught, when he is to make his turn, if it be
a short one, or it cannot be done handsomely, or with
safety.

I have been very much amused with Oxford men and
their tandems, some of which I have seen turned out in a
very dragsmanlike style. I remember hearing the fol-
lowing remark made upon one of them, by that well-
known coachman Mr. Annesley, of Bletchington, at the
Cottisford Heath races : — ' Now,' says he, ' I have par-
ticularly noticed that tandem, and no less than six times
has it been around this race-course, through six fallow
fields ; and by the time it gets back to Oxford — six-and-
thirty miles by the mile-stones — it shan't be a bad day's
work ! ' One of the unfortunate horses, whose name I
cannot now recollect, had been a capital hunter in his
time, and it was lamentable to think that he should come
to such an end at last.

On another occasion, I saw an Oxford tandem set out
one wet, dark, and blowing night from Chapel House,
and the start was rather good. The coachman and his
friend were both well sprung ; and on the latter not being
quite so quick at loading himself as he had been in the
morning, the other called to him, and said, ' Come, make
haste and get up ! You know this mare won't stop much

longer.' 'Let her o-o, and be d d, then,' said the

other, as he was creeping up the step, ' for you know /
had 7'athcr be upset than not.'

STANHOPES AND FASHIONABLE CARRIAGES. 227

It unfortunately always happens, that a system, how-
ever good, is immediately acted upon in extremes, so
soon as it becomes what is idly called 'the fashion.'
Thus, the lowering of gigs from the absurd height to
which they were formerly carried, is now got to an excess,
and we see a man sitting below nis horse's tail, with his
reins descending from the top of the dashing iron, into
his hand. This is a fault which will cure itself ; for,
independent of the miserable figure the driver cuts in so
humble a situation, very few horses are to be met with,
which can be driven with so little control over them as
this method affords-^-the angle which the reins describe,
before coming to the hand, in addition to the friction
they have to contend with, in passing over the dashing
iron (to say nothing of the deadening effect such friction
must have on the mouth of the horse), destroying so
much of his power. It was only this very day, that I
saw an instance of a gentleman being unable to guide his
horse between two hackney coaches, till his servant got
to his head, as he was pulling at him, almost at right
angles, and had no command over him. With respect
to the cabriolets, now so much in use, though we know
nothing of them on the road, they are very good things
for Frenchmen, or for Englishmen who are afraid of
being melted.

Taking into consideration, however, the immense
number of gigs that are always at work, the inexperienced
hands that so many of them are in, and the kind of horse
now driven in them, we have no reason to complain ot
the accidents that occur ; but, on the contrary, we are

Q 2

22S ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

surprised there are not more. The safety rein is certainly
a security, in case of an awkward driver letting- his horse
get the other under his tail, to which the late unsightly
length of tail in horses driven in single harness has
greatly contributed. The contrivance, however, did not
escape the critical eyes of coachmen, who sarcastically
observed, ' Why that there gentleman can't drive one
horse, without two pair of reins ! What a pretty coachman
he must be!' Nevertheless, they are good things in awk-
ward hands. Every man who travels the road, has been
sickened with the sight of the words ' safe coach ' painted
on the different coaches. Give me a safe coachman, and
I will not quarrel with the coach ; for the centre of gravity
can be lost in a three-legged stool, as well as in the
highest ladder.

A fashion has lately prevailed in the neighbourhood
of the metropolis of driving gigs without a whip, than
which nothing looks more uncoachmanlike, or absurd.
A man in a gig, with his coat over his knees, squaring
his elbows with the affectation of a coachman, and all
this to manage one horse, cuts but a sorry figure, at best ;
but without a whip, he is worse, as he does not know
what to do with his right hand. Add to this, danger is
often avoided by the use of the whip ; and I am sorry
to see some swell coachmen, on the road, have fallen
into this uncoachmanlike practice. A man who is driving
four horses never knuws what moment he may want his
whip, and it never should be out of his hand. But for the
whip, I should once have upset sixteen people, when com-
ing at a rapid pace down Feather-bed Lane, with Bobart's

STANHOPES AND FASHIONABLE CARRIAGES. 229

Oxford coach. The near leader shied at a wheel-barrow,
which was by the road-side, and having a dead mouth,
forced his partner up the opposite bank. Having my
whip at hand, I hit the other horse sharply under the
bar, and being a good whipped one, he brought his
partner into his place again, before the coach could
follow him. ' All right ! ' said Bobart, who was on the
roof, with a significant shake of his head, as much as to
say, ' It was very near being all wrong.' For my own
part, I would not travel with a coachman (however clever
he may be), on some roads, who makes a practice of stick-
ing his whip on the coach, instead of having it in his
hand.

Having had my share of accidents out of gigs, it may
not be amiss to state a few precautions. Nothing is so
likely to make a horse kick, as being pinched by any
part of the harness — particularly the pad. Road coach-
men are so aware of this, that a new-fashioned pad is
getting into use among them, coming almost to a conical
point in the centre, instead of preserving* the semi-circular
form. This prevents the possibility of any pressure on
the backbone, between which and the withers of the
horse there is a strong sympathetic feeling. When
wrung in either of those places, he betrays more evident
symptoms of uneasiness than if galled on the shoulder,
or any other part, and his patience, under the injury,
is oftentimes exhausted. He then sets to work to
relieve himself, and, too often, kicks himself out of his
harness.

It is to the above-mentioned circumstances that I

230 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

have to attribute an accident, which occurred to myself,
and therefore my authority is good. I purchased a
horse which had never been in harness before, and put
him at wheel in a tandem. He went fourteen miles as
quietly as if he had run as many years in the mail, when
all of a sudden without the least provocation — without a
whip, rein, or even a fly touching him — he began to mill,
and, to use a coachman's phrase, ' a sack was wanting
to bring home the gig.' With the assistance of the reins
I escaped myself, but my servant was a good deal
hurt. On examining the harness, we found that the pad
pressed on his withers, and having some hills to go
down, the pressure was more than he could bear, so he
merely tried to relieve himself, for he was by no means a
vicious horse.

There is another precaution in a gig, of which I have
more than once found the good effects ; and that is never
to sit with the feet under the body, but always to have
one, if not both, out before it A few years back I was
trying to keep pace with a friend of mine, who was better
horsed than myself, on the return from a fishing party
■ — the pipes being rather queer — when the horse I was
driving choked in his collar, at the top of a hill, and fell
as if he were shot. I had a passenger by the side of me,
who was sitting with his feet under his belly, and conse-
quently was thrown, with much violence, into the road.
On my asking him if he were hurt, he said he could not
tell, but ' what the d — 1 ' said he, 'came of you ?'- -won-
dering, of course, that I had not shared the same fate
with himself. I told him if he had been sitting as I was

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND LINCH-P1NS. 231

sitting, he would not have had such a fall. I had live
miles more to drive him, during which he took care to
have his feet before him, but bade adieu to gig work, for
the rest of his life. If he had not fallen on the horse's
back before he went to the ground, it might have gone hard
with him, as he was heavy and corpulent, and not made
for night work, in a gig.

My opinion has frequently been asked as to the effect
of harness on hunters, or saddle-horses ; and whether it
injures them for their respective purposes ? My answer
has been, that I do not think it is fair play to a hunter to
put him into harness at all ; but that, barring legs and
feet, I do not conceive that light draught, such as that of
a gig, can alter his natural action, unless he is very often
at work. Heavy draught certainly renders horses unsafe
for the road, but not until they have been at it, every
dav, for some time, or their leQs or feet fail them — in-
stance the many riding horses in post-masters' stables,
who go as safely on the road as if they had never been in
harness.

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND LINCH-PINS.

Science has produced a new era in the coaching
world; and, assisted by the unerring result of experience,
has brought the conveyance of passengers and luggage
throughout his Majesty's dominions to a pitch of ex-
cellence that, it is pretty generally admitted, cannot well
be improved upon. We read that amongst the ancients

232 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

a place in heaven was awarded to such as had mainly
contributed to the comforts and conveniences of life : so
is our gratitude due to those of our own times who have
directed their ability and labour to such happy results.

A writer to the ' Sporting Magazine,' speaking of
French post horses, says, ' A few lessons from Nimrod
on coupling-up, etc., would be of considerable utility. I
have always admired beyond anything the perfect ease
and liberty with which the French and Italian post-horses
go, and I have in the same degree lamented the torture
to which horses in this country are put by the bearing
reins being so tight : it may do very well for London
carriage horses, for it helps to give them what is termed
a grand appearance ; but for posters I am persuaded it is
anything but of service.

' A friend of mine, much accustomed to driving, once
told me he could drive his horse ten miles farther without
than with bearing reins, and five miles farther with
snaffle bridles than he could with bits. Some years since
I travelled post through France and Italy, and back to
Calais, and, strange to say, I observed but one horse
make anything like a serious trip, and I attributed this
entirely to the freedom given to their heads.

' I wish some of your correspondents conversant with
such matters would give us their opinions on them. In
all other countries but England horses in harness are
allowed the full liberty of their heads. As to the appear-
ance that is given by bearing up, that is all custom — a
very short time would familiarise the eye to a contrary
system. The question then only is, what is best ? '

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND LINCH-PINS. 233

Now here I am called upon to observe upon a great in-
accuracy in your correspondents. In this country we have
no such term as coupling up post horses : it solely relates
to coach horses, and it is evident that the humane writer
here means bearing up the post horse. I will yield to no
man in kind consideration towards my favourite animal ;
but it savours of humbug to hear a man speak of the
torture1 of bearing up a post horse, and the still more
indigestible language of his friend, who could exactly
measure the powers of his horses with and without
bearing reins, and in snaffle bridles and in bits.

I have clearly stated the absolute necessity of bearing
up the coach horse, which equally applies to the hand
post horse, with only this trifling distinction — the coach
horse is generally more above his work than the post
horse, and he is also always running home (ergo, in a
hurry), which is not the case with the post horse. All
those who have been accustomed to fast work well know
the difficulty of holding horses together and having a
perfect command over them, even with bearing reins ;
but I will venture to add that the man is yet unborn who
could drive some coaches that I could name without the
use of these necessary articles. In the first place, there
are many horses — sometimes whole teams — that will not
face anything but the cheek ; and where is the arm that
could bear the weight of four horses leaning upon it for
an hour or more together, perhaps at full gallop ? How
much soever humanity towards horses may be enjoined,

1 After all, by bearing up a horse in harness, his head is very little more
confined than when he is ridden on the road.

234 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

regard for our own species must prevail, and no horse in
a coach or a post-chaise is safe without a bearing rein ;
and for this reason, he is in constant danger, from having
his head at liberty, of losing his bridle, by rubbing his
head against the pole, or against the other horse, and
then an accident is almost sure to happen, as was the
case with the York ' Highflyer' coach l last year, by which
a woman lost her life. To this must be added the
certainty of his being the more likely to fall, which I
have, I think, clearly proved in a former letter. As to
any comparison holding between our road horses and
those on the Continent, I cannot admit it, as the animals
are of such a different description. Theirs are only one
remove from the cart horse ; ours, three parts, if not
quite, thoroughbred, and at least one- third of them have
been either hunters or race horses. I know that here
and there is to be found an advocate for no bearing rein
— Mr. Ward, for instance, a good coachman of the Old
School, but slow as to pace — and I had a pretty good
taste of it last winter, when staying with Sir Bellingham
Graham in Shropshire. He took it into his head to drive
a pair of wheelers without bearing reins, and neither the
baronet nor myself can soon forget the strain on the
muscles of our arms when driving those horses, and how
glad we were sometimes to change places. To so ex-
perienced a coachman as himself I did not intrude my
opinion, much less attempt to instruct him ; but had I
been the owner of the gallant little cropped horse that

1 This very old-established and excellent coach is the one celebrated by
the inimitable Hogarth.

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND LINCH-PINS. 235

went near-wheel, I would not only have put a bearing
rein upon him, but a good tight side rein also : he should
have pulled at something else besides my arm. Some
people object to side reins upon a leader, in case of his
partner bolting across the road, and taking him with
him ; but this cannot happen to a wheeler, as there is the
pole, and the power of the leaders at the end of it to
contend with and to stop him.

There is another reason, and a very strong one, in
favour of the bearing rein. Many horses are good coach
horses for six miles, but far from good ones for twelve
miles. Towards the end of a stage, they begin to bore
upon their bits ; and were it not for the resistance of the
bearing rein, they would get their heads down to their
knees ; and where is the man who could prevent this
being the case with four jaded horses — having nothing to
hang upon but his arm !

Your correspondent says he travelled post through
France and Italy, and observed but one horse make any-
thing like a serious trip ; and he attributes this entirely
to the freedom given to their heads ! In answer to this,
I can say, that much as I have traversed England, by
day and by night, by coaches and by posting, it is fifteen
years since I have seen either a coach, or post horse,
fall on the road in harness; and I never saw but two
coach horses and one post horse (the riding horse, and
consequently without a bearing rein) fall, in all my
experience on the road. I have reason to believe that
the falling of an English hand-horse in posting is of
very rare occurrence. Had I travelled the fiftieth part

236 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

of the distance I have gone, sitting behind English
horses, with ' the entire freedom given to their heads,'
I am quite certain I should not be now alive to
record it.1

It is one of the failings of our nature to look with
indifference on a skill we do not possess ; and, in conse-
quence, many persons consider themselves proficients in
an art which they never practised. Were your corre-
spondent, to whom I have alluded, to give himself the
trouble to ask a hundred coachmen the question, he
would not find one amongst them who would venture to
say that he was equal to the task of driving a fast coach
without bearing reins on his horses, and I think this puts
the matter at rest ; but I must be allowed to add, that
great credit is due to that coachman who, at the present
pace, and with the present breed of horses, gets a fast
coach through a country for twelve calendar months
without any accident happening, unless it be one not
within his power to prevent. Night coachmen, in par-
ticular are deserving of great praise, and particularly
those who drive the mails, for they are now timed at a
rate scarcely safe for lamplight. Were it not indeed
for the exemplary change that has lately been effected
in their moral character, innumerable accidents would
happen ; but a coachman drunk on his box is now never
seen nor thought of. The risks these men run, however,
are considerable, and they ought to be better paid than
they are.

1 Bearing reins have their uses and abuses. — Ed.

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BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND UNCH-PINS. 237

When on the subject of mails and night-work, I must
make one remark : — The proprietors who horse them
are not sufficiently attentive to the state of the harness
011 the ground worked by night, whereas, above all other,
it should be the best. If anything breaks by daylight,
it is instantly observed, but not so in the night, for lamp-
light is treacherous and uncertain. I do not wish to do
so, but I could name two mails that have lately been
very frequent iy upset in consequence of the rottenness
of their night harness. Perhaps the proprietors — one of
whom I know reads the ' Sporting Magazine ' — may take
notice of this hint. Their duty to the public requires
that they should. They receive handsome fares for
their passengers, and it is but right that they should
take every possible care of their living cargo.

As it is my intention to touch on every part of the
extensive system now adopted on our roads, which has
attained an excellence far beyond our most sanguine
expectation, I must divide my subject into heads, and
treat of each separately.

Fast Coaches. — Had our present expedition on the
road been proposed to our ancestors, they would have
considered it as the dream of a lunatic. This, however,
is self-evident : by the improvement in the structure of
coaches, added to the capital state of the roads, four
inside, and ten outside passengers, with their luggage,
are conveyed at the rate of ten miles an hour, with more
ease to themselves, and considerably less punishment to
the horses that draw them, than was formerly the case

238 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

when the rate of travelling was three miles an hour.1
When we consider that this increased pace makes a
difference of five hours between London and Birminpf-
ham, how great must be the benefit to the commercial
world ! This is not all. I contend, that passengers are
more secure in their persons when travelling at this ex-
peditious and agreeable rate, than they were formerly at
little more than six miles in the hour.

I think, however, I hear some of the cautious ones
exclaim — ' Ah ! this ten mile an hour work is all very
well ; but danger attends it' This, barring unavoidable
casualties, I deny. On the contrary, I maintain that, as
the roads are now formed, a coach running by daylight,
and in proper hands (and none other should be put upon
such fast work), is equally safe when going ten miles in
the hour, as when she is going seven. To keep her
time, no galloping is required, unless indeed it be now
and then up a short pitch, where no danger can accrue.
I have had my share of galloping coaches, and I think I
may say that I have gone as fast on a coach box as I
ever went over a country. I do not, however, pretend
to deny that there is danger attending galloping coach
horses down hill, or on even ground ; and if an accident
happens it must be a bad one. The goodness of a road
is no preservative against it ; on the contrary, it is very
possible that if she takes to swing, she may go over from

1 I remember being struck with the lively notice taken by Mr. Cobbett
of one of our modern stage coaches. After having described the beauty of
the horses, the neatness of the coach and harness, and the improvement in
the breed and manners of the coachmen, he concludes by saying, ' Away
goes half the population of a village at the rate of eight miles an hour.'

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND LINCH-PINS. 239

the very circumstance of the road being so level and so
smooth — there being nothing on its surface to hold the
wheels to the ground. Another thing, not generally
known or suspected, will cause a coach to swing, and
thereby become dangerous ; and that is — if there should
be two horses at wheel, whose stride in their gallop
differs much as to extent, their unequal draught will in-
variably set the coach on the roll ; and unless the pace
moderates, even the forewheel passing over a small stone
might, under such circumstances, cause her to upset. If
it were possible to make the stride and draught of four
horses in a coach quite equal, their galloping upon level
ground would have very trifling effect on the lateral
motion of their coach, as we find to be the case whilst it
is ascending a hill, when every horse is at work. Much,
however, under all circumstances, depends upon the
build of the carriage. The ' Bull and Mouth ' x coaches,
though heavy, and not the best to follow, carry their
loads extremely well ; but for fast work, those made by
Messrs. Wright and Powell, in East street, Clerkenwell,
eclipse all, and these builders are now much employed

1 Perhaps it is not generally known whence this great coach house took
its name or sign. — When Henry the Eighth took the town of Boulogne, the
event was magnified by the servile flatterers of the day into something so
heroic, that the words Boulogne Mouth became a popular subject for signs.
Consequently Boulogne Mouth was chosen for the inn in question ; but the
name of the inn outliving the fame of the conquest, an ignorant painter was
employed, by a still more ignorant landlord, to paint a new sign, when he
ingeniously represented Boulogne Mouth harbour by a bull with a wide
gaping mouth. This sign may still be seen over the entrance to the ' Bull
and Mouth ' yard at the back of the ' Queen ' Hotel (late '■ Bull and Mouth '
Inn). — Ed.

240 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

by the gentlemen dragsmen of the present day. The
form of their coaches, having their boots dropped as low
as possible between the springs, is very much in favour
of safe travelling, by keeping the weight as near the
ground as it can be placed ; and the excellent manu-
facture of their springs is a most material preventive of
a coach rolling, and thereby losing its equilibrium.

It never happened to me but once to be all but over-
turned, merely by the rapid motion of a coach, on the
finest and smoothest bit of road in England ; and this
was owing to the cause I have already spoken of — the
unequal stride of two horses at wheel. The lateral
motion of the coach at first was trifling ; but she soon
began to roll to that degree that the passengers — myself
amongst the rest — thought she must go over, and were
greatly alarmed. Fortunately for us all, the centre of
gravity was not lost, and she kept her legs ; but had she
not been in the hands of a very skilful driver, over she
must have gone, and for this reason — had he complied
with the requests of his passengers to pull his horses
short nothing could have saved her, as by so doing he
would have thrown the weight still more upon the fore
wheels ; but his presence of mind did not forsake him,
and his skill saved us. Instead of attempting to restrain
the speed of his horses, in a body, he only eased his
leaders, and took away all draught from the head of
pole, which would there have acted like the tail to a
paper kite, and sent us all to perdition. When the coach
recovered her equilibrium — which was one of the happiest
moments of my life — our coachman sai k that so near was

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND LINCH-PINS. 241

it being ' a case,' that he really believed two pounds
weight more, on either side of the roof, would have
brought us all to the ground.

In galloping coach-horses I have observed the fol-
lowing fact : — If the leaders lead off with two opposite
legs, the motion of the coach is considerably truer than
when each horse uses the same lee ; and the swine bars
also will be much more at rest. The bulk of mankind is
made to act rather than to think ; but in the course of
my subject I intend going a little more philosophically to
work on these matters, and will endeavour to point out,
on unerring principles, the chief causes of most of the
accidents that happen to coaches on the road.

Were I in Parliament I would long since have
brought in a bill to prevent any stage-coach travelling
the road with their wheels secured only by the common
linch-pin. In the first place, as proprietors make their
own charge to passengers for their fares, and against
which they have no appeal, they are bound to secure
them, as much as is possible, from danger, in their jour-
ney. For several years past no coach has gone out of
the ' Bull and Mouth ' yard without the patent box to
the wheels, and their coaches run to Exeter and back
without a wheel being taken off ; as also to Shrewsbury,
and farther. This completely answers the common
objections made to this safe-guard — namely, that if a
wheel with the patent box should fail, the coach is hung
up on the road. Now, although I have made particular
inquiries, I cannot hear of such an occurrence having

R

242 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

happened. Of course, the coach is turned out sound and
right from the London yard, and there is very little
chance of her not returning to it in the same state — par-
ticularly as the roads now are. The mails, however,
more completely answer this objection than anything I
can advance. They have always used the patent box —
a patent of their own — and how very few instances are
there of their being stopped from the failure of them ! I
never heard of any.

Proprietors will tell us the double linch-pin is quite
safe ; but this I deny. To gentlemen's carriages, which
have not the patent box, there is what is called the
screw-nut — which, turning in a contrary direction to the
wheel, will, in case of the linch-pin being lost, not only
prevent the wheel coming off, but, by its own operation,
will confine it so fast as scarcely to be able to turn round.
Stage-coaches have not even this precaution ; they
depend solely upon two linch-pins, fastened on by the
same strap, which linch-pins may both break or be lost,
and which strap may also fail. Certain, however, is it,
that innumerable accidents have happened to coaches
from wheels coming off, and, in these improving and fast
times, such chances should not be allowed to exist.1

When I first travelled with my favourite South-
ampton 'Telegraph,' her wheels were only secured by
the double linch-pin, and the consequence was, her often
leaving one of them behind her. She then had recourse
to another expedient, one most essential to so fast a

1 All stage-coaches should have mail axles, and the utility and appear-
ance of these axles equally suit them for mail phaetons, breaks, &c. — Ed.

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND LINCH-PINS. 243

coach. A bent stay worked in what is called a worm
screw, which twines around the hinder part of the box of
the wheel. When the linch-pin was taken out, the wheel,
thus situated, could not be taken off until it made one
turn and a half backwards on the axle. The proprietors
of this coach having now gone to Messrs. Wright and
Powell, their coaches have Mason's patent boxes to the
wheels, so that no further danger can be apprehended on
this head. The last time I travelled by it, we had one
of the new coaches, and Peer said it was almost im-
possible to make her roll or swing.

To show how very little aware passengers in general
are of danger in a coach — and

Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise —

I will step out of the road for a moment to relate an
anecdote of this celebrated ' Telegraph ' : — When the
opposition between the ' Independent' and itself was at its
height, a lady was booked inside for Southampton, and
a friend was appointed to meet her at the usual hour of
arriving. As he was walking in the streets, he espied
the lady in a coach more than two hours before he ex-
pected her, and as soon as it stopped he went up to her,
and asked her why she had not come in the ' Telegraph' ?
' Why this is the " Telegraph," ' replied the lady, ' and
we should have been here sooner, only we were obliged to
wait for horses at Popham Lane.' Now the fact was, the
two coaches had been racing all the way down, perform-

R 2

244 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

ing the distance — seventy-seven miles from Hyde Park
Corner — in six hours ; and not expecting the ' Telegraph '
so soon, the horse-keeper at Popham Lane had not
begun to harness his horses when it arrived. These
coaches have now given up all this larking. They give
and take the road, as we call it ; and though nine times
in ten the ' Telegraph' is first, I must do the ' Independent '
the justice to say that it is worked in a very superior
manner. I know of no two such coaches on the same
road.

It is somewhat singular, but yet true, that in our fast
work on the road, we have taken a hint from our nei^h-
bours (the French), although fast work with them is
quite out of the question, if only from the nature of their
tackle — harness I must not call it. I allude to the short
stage, or ' post,' as they term it. Very few of our fast
coaches now run more than ten miles, and many not
much more than half the distance. This is, however,
the only way to make stock last in quick work, and pro-
prietors have at last found it out. As I have before
remarked, a horse mav be a good coach horse for six
miles, but a very bad one for twelve. If then he is run-
ning half his ground in distress, it is soon all over with
him. Nature finds herself unequal to the task ; and
when she says ' enough,' a fresh horse must be pur-
chased.

There is no part of coaching economy in which a
Greater alteration has been made, than in the act of
changing horses. It scarcely appears credible that four
horses can be taken from a coach, and four others put

BEARING REINS, FAST COACHES, AND EINCH-PINS. 245

into their places, in the very short space of sixty seconds ;
but so it is. A quarter of an hour, or at least ten
minutes, was the usual time allotted to this purpose
when I first knew the road ; but at the present day,
unless some business is to be transacted — such as taking
fares for passengers, setting" down, getting out parcels,
etc. — I should say, the average is three minutes for each
change, with fast coaches. There is, however, one
practice attending this harlequin-like performance which
I must condemn, and which I would not surfer, were I
the proprietor of the fastest coach in England ; and that
is — having no buckles at the end of either leaders' or
wheelers' reins. This is what I call throwing away a
chance ; for should one of them drop out of the coach-
man's hand, it would not be in his power to recover it,
and an accident must be the consequence. Let us sup-
pose that the one-minute-time, with the opposition in
sight, will not allow a coachman to buckle his reins at
the hand before he gets on his box, there is no reason
why he should not do so after he has proceeded a little
way on the road. Prevention is always preferable to
cure ; and well inclined as I am towards everything
belonging to the road, yet, were I on a jury, and an
action were brought against a coach for injury sustained
by a passenger, I would lay it on thick if I found it pro-
ceeded from the cause I have alluded to. It may be
very ' swell,' but it is not safe ; and this is not only my
own suggestion — I have heard the subject canvassed
more than once, and I know the feeling towards it. A
word then to the wise !

246 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

There was an excellent remark made a short time
back by an old coach proprietor — namely, that now-a-
days (alluding- to the smart coaches we see on the road)
the gold is put on the outside of the coaches, whereas,
in his younger days, it went into the proprietors' pockets.
There is doubtless much truth in this pithy sentence.
The consumption of horse flesh in fast work is a most
considerable drawback on the earnings of a coach — the
average being not more than three years for each horse's
work, whereas when the Dace is slow, it is more than
double that period. Neither do the fares cover this in-
creased expense — not making more than one-fourth dif-
ference1— and seldom so much — in the fastest coach and
the slowest.

ON COACHMEN.

Although it may be said that intellect directs it, yet
it is the structure of the hand of man that gives him the
superiority over other animals : but the use of this hand
varies wonderfully with various persons. Having, I
believe, mentioned most things relating to harnessing
horses, let us suppose them put to their coach, all ready
for a start — the reins thrown across the off wheel-horses'

1 The fare from my house to London by Southampton ' Telegraph,' or
' Independent ' — ten miles an hour — is twelve shillings: by ' Old Salisbury' —
six miles an hour — ten shillings, which is only one-fifth.

ON COACHMEN. 247

loins, with the ends of them hanging upon the middle
terret of his pad, and the whip also thrown across the
backs of the wheelers. The coachman makes his ap-
pearance. If he be a coachman, a judge will immediately
perceive it ; for as a certain philosopher observes, ' every
situation in life serves for formation of character,' and
none more so than a coachman's. I was going to say —
only let a judge see him come out of his office (pulling
on his glove) ; but this I will say — let him see him walk
round his horses, alter a coupling rein, take up his whip
and reins, and mount his box, and he will at once pro-
nounce him a neat, or an awkward one. Perhaps there
is nothing in which knowledge of an art without execu-
tion goes for less than in that of driving four-in-hand ;
for, although a coachman may have science in his calling,
yet it is very possible that, from a natural awkwardness
of action (if I may be allowed to apply this word to his
case), he may be totally unable to put it into effect with
anything like a graceful, or even neat and appropriate,
movement of his arms and hands : and in nothing, short
of the higher accomplishments of our nature, is a certain
propriety and neatness more required than in handling
the reins and whip from a coach box. Indeed, the
motions of the latter must be observed with something
like a mathematical precision ; and the quickness and
lightness of finger required to suit some horses' mouths,
is far greater than those unacquainted with driving
would suppose. This I must say — I have never seen
the two qualities combined : I have never seen an

248 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

awkward and a good four-horse coachman in the same
individual.1

I am quite of opinion with Chester Billy, that ' driving
four horses is a pretty hart'2 That to perform it to
perfection is within the power of but few, every man
whose inclination leads him to the notice of these matters
is aware. Within these few years, however, a superior
class of man is to be found upon the coach box, and for
this advantage we are mainly indebted to two circum-
stances : first the driving clubs ; and the notice taken
of coachmen by gentlemen of rank and fortune ; and
secondly, to the boxes being placed on springs, which was
not the case when I first mounted them. It is now a
common practice for passengers to pay an extra shilling
for the box place, whereas, formerly, a man not wishing
to be initiated in the ' pretty art ' would give something
to be anywhere else. I think I now feel the thumps my

1 It is amusing to think how lightly some persons appreciate the accom-
plishments of a coachman ; and this brings to my recollection two anecdotes
on this head, one of which relates to myself. I had not been many days
in my present residence before I was told a person wished to speak with me.
I found a man in what is called in some countries a smock, but in Hampshire
a round frock, and the following dialogue took place : —

' Well, my man, what is your pleasure ? '

' Beg your pardon, sir, but I hears you wants a zarvant.'

' What can you do ? '

' Most everything. I can plough, sow, drill, and look after horses and
cattle, and drive four-in-hand?

The following anecdote was told me by a friend, and applies well here : — ■
A gentleman's coachman, or what we call ' a wap-fohn,' brought his master's
carriage, four-in-hand, to the door of an inn, not in the most coachman-like
manner, when a knowing boy in the street addressed him thus : — ' I say,
coachee, who feeds the pigs when y 021 be from home?''

- Billy was bred in Shropshire, where they never lose an opportunity of
pronouncing the letter H.

ON COACHMEN.

249

hips have had against the hoop of the box, when I was
young and light, as the coach proceeded at a good rate
over a broken pavement ; and a coachman being thrown
from his box, when wide-awake and sober, was then a
common occurrence. Perhaps it is not generally known,
that to Mr. Warde, of Squerries, are we indebted for the
first coach box ever placed upon springs. He prevailed
upon the proprietors of the Manchester ' Telegraph ' to
adopt the use of them, and thence they were called
Telegraph springs.

By the way — speaking of the Manchester ' Telegraph,'
and the improvement of the present race of coachmen — I
am induced to touch upon the celebrated opposition
between that coach and the ' Defiance,' which lasted
longer, and was carried on with more spirit than any
other upon record. Both coaches have stood their
ground, and are worked in a very superior style ; but my
chief reason for mentioning them here is, to pay a tribute
to the two very swell coachmen who drove them out
of London at least fifteen years ago ; and who may almost
be said to have set the example of neatness in dress,
and respectability of appearance and demeanour, which is
so characteristic of coachmen of the present day. These
were, John Marchant on the ' Telegraph,' and Bob Snow
on the ' Defiance ' — the latter for some years past a pro-
prietor of, as well as at work upon a Brighton coach,1
Rather a singular circumstance attended my first acquaint-
ance with him. I was going down the road with his Man-
chester coach, and I had appointed an old friend in his

1 < The Dart.'

:5o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

line to meet me at his yard in the City, to introduce me
to him. As I was walking down Fleet Street, I observed
a man on the other side the street, just such a man as I
pictured to my own mind Mr. Snow to be ; and walking
quietly behind him, looked him over, found that he was ' all
right ' — a pink in his way, and as well dressed for the
road as a gentleman ought to be for Almack's. His
footsteps led me to the ' Swan with Two Necks,' where
the introduction took place, and I was highly pleased
with the whole turn-out. All was as it should be, from
the nose piece on the leaders' heads, to the roller on the
splinter bar.

There was another very celebrated man on the ' Tele-
graph' at this time, at the other end of the ground, and
indeed he was, till very lately, on the ' Defiance ' — the
well-known Harry Douglas, about the size of two ordi-
nary men ; who, as an old friend of mine and a great
admirer of his talent observes, 'could gallop a coach with-
out it swinging, and who could drink as much as would
scald a porker, though never seen to be the worse for it.'
Harry was a great favourite with the Manchester gentle-
men, and an artist of the first order.

It may be truly said of Douglas, that 'like Amphi-
tryon of old, he was 'great in the art.' Exclusive of his
science, he was one of the strongest men ever seen. His
hands were unusually large ; his fingers immense ; and
such was his power on his box, that he could grapple
with four bad horses in a way that will seldom be seen
again. He could, as it were, almost lift them over their
stage. He sat high on the bench ; his left arm raised

ON COACHMEN.

more than is usual, and his right arm was terrible. He
was a jovial fellow over a bowl, singing many excellent
sono-s, but was booked in the down mail about a month
since, on a road on which there is no turning back. In
many essentials to a coachman, he has left few equals
behind him.

There are two or three more of the old school whose
names should be recorded in the Annals of the Road, as
having arrived at the top of their profession, and whose
characters have been free from stain. Of John Besford,
on the Exeter ' Subscription,' I have already spoken in
terms of high respect ; and I must here pay a tribute to
the memory of the late Jack Hale, a coachman of extra-
ordinary merit, and a man of excellent natural talent.
He was also on the Manchester ' Defiance,' but latterly
worked upon the lower Oxford road, and was one of the
quickest of his day. I remember hearing a friend of
mine say in the presence of Mr. Kenyon, that he went
down Henley hill on Jack Hale's coach, in a hard frost,
without the chain on the wheel, but, added he, ' I did
not like it.' — ' Oh,' said Mr. Kenyon, 'you were as safe
as when in your bed.' Jack was chief manager, and
one of the founders of the Benevolent Club,1 and much
looked up to by the fraternity.

Of the late Jack Bailey, on the Birmingham and
Shrewsbury Old ' Prince of Wales,' the tutor of so many
of us, I have already spoken as quite a top-sawyer of the
old school. When he died, he left his watch to Sir
Henry Peyton, who wears it to this day, though -with a

1 See pp. 66 and 1 19.

252 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

new face to it ; for the old one was ornamented with a race
horse, a greyhound, a fighting cock, and a bull dog, and Sir
Henry's picture in the centre. Jack was also a great ally of
the great Mr. John Warde, who worked very frequently on
the ' Old Prince ' in former days, and by his own account,
brought many a ton of bad shillings 1 into London. Mr.
Warde drove this coach a race, from London to Oxford,
aeainst the Gloucester coach, and won it. Nothing on
the road was better horsed than the ' Prince ' in Bailey's
day, for the lpad it carried, and its time ; but it would not
be thought much of now. It is still going, and Jobson,
one of its coachmen on the lower ground, whose horses I
have driven many hundred miles, now keeps the 'Talbot '
inn at Shrewsbury, a house of the first style, and where
Mr. Jobson is as much esteemed as he was upon his
box.

There are two or three more artists of the old school
who must have a niche here, and I shall commence with
Jem Howell, with whom, I have no doubt, at least nine-
tenths of my readers are acquainted. Jem is one of Mr.
Costar's (of Oxford) oldest servants, and was, the Lord
knows how many years, on his Oxford and Birmingham
day-coach, driving it as far as Shipston-upon-Stour, after
his breakfast, and driving it back again to Oxford in time
for his dinner. Now whether it were, that the public
thought Jem and his master were only half awake ; or
whether it were that they thought they might as well go

1 This coach was generally very heavily laden with Birmingham hard-
ware, and no doubt the Birmingham shillings often made up part of the
load.

ON COACHMEN. 253

from Birmingham to London in nearly the same time as
Jem's day-coach conveyed them from Birmingham to
Oxford, I know not ; but it so happened, that about ten
years ago, the Birmingham ' Aurora' commenced running
from that place to London in one day ; and, in conse-
quence of this, Costar's party put on the ' Courier,' in
opposition to the ' Aurora,' each of which, as the opposi-
tion was strong and the work well done, took so much of
the shine out of Jem Howell's day-coach, that about
twelve months since he left it.

As a coachman with the short wheel-rein (and he
says no man can drive four horses with the long one),
Jem Howell stands very high, being supposed to be as
good a judge of what a coach horse can do as any man
of his day ; and as an honest servant to his employers,
we may put him quite in the top hole. In proof of his
skill in his art, it is only necessary to state, that, although
his pace was not slow (say at least eight miles an hour),
his horses were always as fat as bacon pigs, and a poor
one put into his coach soon got his back up. It was also
well worth an extra fare to travel with Jem Howell, and
hear his quaint remarks on the road ; for he has a talent
for repartee which is very seldom excelled. It happens
that I have a near relation at the head of one of the
Colleges in Oxford, and I once took the liberty of telling
him, that, if Jem had had as good an education as him-
self and the rest of the big-wigs, he would have chopped
logic with any of them.

Some of my best anecdotes of this noted character
will not exactly bear print, but he has amused myself

254 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

and several of my friends many a good hour. It was
highly diverting to hear his remarks on the opposition
coaches,1 which ran his road. I once heard a passenger
for Birmingham go up to him and say — ' I shall not go
with you to-day, Jem ; I shall go by the " Aurora." ' — ' By
all means, sir,' observed Jem, ' go by the " Aurora ; " they
will take you cheaper than I can, and break your neck
into the bargain.' His hint to his old master Mr. Costar,
that he must change his service, was by no means amiss.
' Now, sir,' said he, ' do you think my coach and I would
be missed upon the road if we was to stop at home for a
fortnight?' — Jem is a great cocker, and we are apt to
take our similes and comparisons from favourite subjects.
A friend of mine was travelling with him once, and a
gentleman in black passed the coach, to whom Jem made
his obeisance. ' Who is your friend ? ' said my friend.

'What!' replied Howell, ' don't you know parson ?

I thought everybody knew him. He's a right good
one, inside of a church or out ; 2 and they tell me, when
he preaches the church is as full as a cockpit /'

No man in a humble situation in life has met with
greater patronage than Jem Howell, and amongst his
steady friends may be reckoned Mr. Annesley, Mr.
Harrison, Sir Henry Peyton, Lord Clonmel, and many

1 The finish to the ' Courier ' coach was rather unique. For some time
it had carried nothing, which did not suit the late Mr. Jolly, of Enstone,
who hcrsed it. Seeing it change horses one day at his stables without a
single passenger, he went up to the horse-keeper as soon as he had taken
off the leaders, and said, ' Now bring this coach after me ; ' so taking it
into a barn, he locked it up, saying, ' This coach has carried a guard and
coachman quite long enough for me P

2 Technical.

ON COACHMEN. 255

others attached to the road, and no doubt he is in very
comfortable circumstances. He now drives the Worcester
'Mercury' into London.

I have not yet done with the old ones. Many of my
friends, to the northward of London, would consider me
very culpable, and indeed I should consider myself guilty
of an injustice to merit and good conduct, were I to omit
the mention of that very celebrated performer, Dan
Herbert, upwards of thirty years on the Chester and
Holyhead mail, and to whom, in consideration of his
faithful and correct attention to his business, the Post-
office has made a present of a scarlet coat on every
anniversary of the King's birthday. His place was little
more than exercise to him — getting on his box at Eccle-
shall, in Staffordshire, at a pleasant hour in the morning,
and driving only to Lichfield, twenty-four miles. Here
afte'* taking his dinner, he met his down coach, and
returned to Eccleshall in the evening. Taking advan-
tage of his superior coachmanship, and the shortness of
his stages — changing twice in his twenty-four miles — Dan
was generally very indifferently horsed ; but of all the
men I ever saw upon a coach box, he had the best
method of driving bad horses without punishing them ;
or, if I may be allowed the expression, of coaxing them
along. I used to work a good deal upon this mail x some
years back, and upon one occasion am enabled to speak

1 Just to show what a change has taken place in the order of things
within these last twenty years, I mention the following fact. I was once
riding over Dan Herbert's ground, when his coach overtook me. I got on
the box, and the guard rode my hack, behind the coach, for two stages !
Were this to happen now the guard would be in the black book.

256 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

to the superiority of Dan on his coach box. I got up at
Lichfield, and as we were approaching the town of
Stafford he addressed me thus ; ' Now, Master, we shall
give you a hot shirt over this next ground. My horses
are bad enough at the best of times, but they have been
out all night at Lord Bagot's ball, with two rumbling
gentlemen's coaches at their tails, so they'll be in nice
tune for us.' I have the team in my mind's eye at this
moment ; but suffice it to say, I got them about half
their ground, when we were all done over together.
Dan took hold of them, and made up the ground which
I had lost, with very little punishment. This mail is
two miles an hour a better coach than it was ; but in the
days of my working upon it, the roads were in a miser-
able state — full a horse's draught heavier than they are
at present.

Dan Herbert, I am happy to say, is still at work, and
those who have travelled with him, as well as all others
who respect a good coachman, will be glad to hear the
following account of him, which I had the other day
from a friend, an excellent judge : ' Old Dan is alive,
and hearty as ever. He is now, and has been for the last
three years, driving the Chester and Liverpool mail, and
I think I may say as much alive and as active as ever ;
and, judging from a journey I went with him last year, I
consider him better than ninety-nine out of a hundred
coachmen you see ; and his age must be considerably
above sixty. His son Tom, who lived with Mr. Cox, is
now on the Liverpool and Chester coach, but is about to
take to Mrs. Tomlinson's business, the ' White Lion,' at

ON COACHMEN. 257

Chester. Mrs. T. will be a great loss to the road, as she
was full of life and spirit.'

I must here remark that, though perhaps not equal to
him in neatness of execution, I consider the coachman I
have been speaking of to have had an advantage over
Jack Hale in his great command of temper. Although
allowed by all judges to have been a beautiful coachman,
Jack was not considered a good man with bad horses,
being what is termed ' rather too quick for them.'

Before I quit the old ones, I must bring my brother
whip and brother sportsman, Mr. Wise, late of the
Southampton ' Union,' once more before the public. As a
coachman, I cannot speak of him, having never sat beside
him ; but I, as well as many others, have been much l
amused, not to say edified, by his discourse. I have an
excellent anecdote of him now to produce, which was
related to me a few weeks back by a gentleman who
resides in this country. My friend's son had just been
ordained Deacon, or, in the language of the day, 'ja-
panned,' and the first time after entering upon his holy
office that he got by the side of old Wise upon his coach-
box, the following conversation took place :

Mr. Wise: 'Well, Mr. John, so you be got into
orders.'

Young Divine: 'WThy, yes, I am.'

1 I shall not easily forget his definition of the new and old coachman^
by the covert's side, the season before last, with Mr. Nicoll's hounds. There
were two or three members of the Lower House present, who received a
good lesson on the modern dialectic, and were highly entertained by it.
Although there is a story of his once dropping his wheel rein and catching
it on his toe, I never heard of Wise having an accident on the ' Union/ and
I dare say he was equal to the old way of doing business.

258 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Mr. Wise : ' All right ; I am glad to hear it, for they
tells me that's not quite so easy a job as it used to be.
Now, I've known your father many years, and have
drove you many a mile, and I want to ask you a bit of a
favour : Will you be so good as to explain to me a little bit
about that there Trinity ? '

Young Divine : ' Why, that is not exactly a subject
for a coach-box, Wise, and perhaps I might not make
you comprehend it clearly without entering more fully
into it.'

Mr. Wise : ' Why, to tell you the truth, sir, I have
thought a good deal myself about that there Trinity, and
never could understand it ; but I don't know how it is,
/ never meets three in a gig that I clout think of it ! '

I am not surprised at the propensity to make use of
technical language by those who are daily employed in
the same occupation or art, and can therefore easily
reconcile the parallel between the Trinity and the gig.
I had not a bad specimen of this about two years back,
when addressing a coachman whom I had not seen for
some years :

' How do you do, ? '

' Quite well, thank ye, sir, glad to see you so well.'

' I am very well, I thank you, and very glad to see
you on so good a coach!

' Oh, sir, the coach is no great things.'

' Come, come ! forty miles of night work, and no
guard, can't be much amiss.'

' Why, sir, to be sure we do 7uake tongue and buckle
meet, and that's all.'

ON COACHMEN. 259

Another specimen of road lingo is to be found in the
following story. A few years ago a certain baronet, very
fond of the road, gave a wedding dinner to a coachman
at his own house, and the description of the nuptial
banquet, by one of his brother whips who was invited to
the wedding, was as follows : ' I walks in as free as air.
Hangs up my hat upon a peg behind the door. Sits myself
down by the side of a young woman they calls a lady's
maid, and gets as well acquainted with her in five minutes
as if I had known her for seven year. When we goes to
dinner we has a little soup to start with, and a dish of
fish they calls trout, spotted for all the world like any
coach dog. A loin of veal as white as halley-blaster, the
kidney fat as big as the crown of my hat ; I ain't lying, so
help me G — ! A couple of ducks stuffed with sage and
inions, fit for any lord, and a pudding you might have
drove a coach around. Sherry white, and red Port,
more than did us good ; and at last we goes to tea. I

turns my head short around, and sees Bill making

rather too free. Stop, says I, Bill, that won't do. No-
thing won't do here but what's quite genteel.'

Horse-keepers :.re a useful body of men, and if they do
their duty by their employers, their places are no sinecures.
Some of their remarks while their coach is changing
horses are by no means bad. I heard of the following
remonstrance of one of them with his coachman a short
time since : ' Why, coachman, now what's the use of
your halways being a haltercating along with me. You
knows that there mare won't go leader as well as I do,
and yet you lays all that there job last night to me.'

s 2

26o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Sir Henry Peyton told me that, wishing to pay him a
compliment, he once told a coachman, that, although a
little man, he thought him strong on his box. ' Why,
Sir Henry,' replied Coachee, ' the truth is, what the
big ones does by strength, I does by hartifiz.'1

Among the moderns I must not omit nearly the most
elegant coachman that this country ever saw, and this is
Jack Moody, son of William Moody, so long known on
the road. The last time I travelled with Jack Moody
was between two and three years ago, when he was at
work on the Exeter mail ; since which time he has
retired from public life in consequence of his health, and
does a little in the horse-dealing business. He is quite
an out-and-outer, and it is much to be regretted that so
fine a performer should be obliged to leave the road. A
friend of mine — a good judge — told me he saw him in
the procession of the mails the last birthday but one, and
that his appearance and execution on the box were as
superior to the other coachmen as day is superior to
night.

I must not pass over a very pretty light coachman by
the name of Ball, who is at work from Southampton to
Oxford. He changed places — not being quite equal to
the hard service — with Gentleman2 Taylor, on the South-

1 Artifice.

2 My having given Taylor this title in a Letter on the Road, some time
back, occasioned a humorous dialogue between us on his coach. He asked
me if I knew who Nimrod was ? Of course I did not. ' If I could find him
out,' said he, ' I would bring an action against him.' ' For what ?' I asked.
' For a libel, in calling me a gentleman .' ' was his reply. ' Why, you keep
gentlemen's company,' said I. 'To be sure,' added he, 'my passengers
generally wear pretty good collars to their coats.'

OX COACHMEN. 261

ampton ' Telegraph,' about five years ago ; and Mr.
Charles Buxton tells me I should travel with a coachman
by the name of Pop, on the Light Salisbury, as he thinks
I should like him, and ere long I intend to do so. Hi:j
father once hunted Mr. Chute's hounds. There is also
a very prime artist on the Cheltenham ' Magnet.' by the
name of James Witherington, alias Bloody J cmmy. The
latter title implies that he has been a bit of a larker in
his time ; and when on the Birmingham and Manchester
• Express,' he had like to have killed a whole coach-load
at once, by galloping them round a corner, with a ram-
mish team, and himself queer. For this job he was
pulled up and paid 70/. towards doctors' bills, which with
the help of a few more years over his head, has made
him quite steady ; and, as Black Will says, he now
begins to see danger. He is a strong, powerful man,
in the prime of life, and certainly one of the very best
opposition coachmen of the present hour. I used to see
a good deal of him when on the Worcester day coach,
and have often been pleased to look at him taking a full
load down Broadway hill without a wheel tied — sitting
as much at his ease as if he were blowing a cloud. Jem
Whitchurch is a loss to the road, being one of the quickest
of the quick ; and the ease with which he did his work —
from Brighton to London, and back to Brighton every
day — was a proof of his being a coachman. His break-
fast, dinner, a glass of sherry, and an apple, was all the
refreshment he partook of in his hundred miles of
ground.

Doubtless the greatest instance of corporal exertion

262 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

on a coach-box that was ever yet heard of was, that
modern Hercules, the celebrated Captain Barclay of
Urie, driving the mail all the way from London to Edin-
burgh— four hundred miles. Thorooood's work on the
Norwich 'Times,' already recorded, is a wonderful sample
of perseverance and industry — having driven his coach
tzvo years without missing one journey, 1 12 miles a day.

There is a very respectable and scientific coachman
in my own neighbourhood who deserves notice, inasmuch
as he only wants tzvo years of completing /lis half century
on the road, and he is now as equal to his work as ever
he was. His name is Mountain Shaw, a nephew of the
coach-proprietor of that name ; and he drives Monk's
Basinostoke coach to London one day, and down the
next. He has an uncommonly neat house in Basing-
stoke, where he is much respected ; and I am told he is
always to be found, on his London evenings, at a certain
house near his yard, in the City, dressed in his silk
stockings and white waistcoat, enjoying himself after the
business of the day, and amusing his friends with his
agreeable discourse. Shaw is very well known to several
of the gentlemen dragsmen, and I humbly suggest that
when he completes his half century on the road, they
give him a jubilee dinner, in London, at which myself
and several of my friends will be most happy to attend.
Fifty years' faithful service to the public is entitled to
some compliment — the nature of the service having little
to do with it. As the Poet says :

Honour and shame from no condition rise ;
Act well your part — there all the honour lies.

ON COACHMEN. 263

There is another very excellent coachman at work
through Basingstoke. His name is Ward, on the Exeter
Subscription coach. No man understands heavy work
better than Jackman, on the Old Salisbury ; and as he is
a great favourite of his master (Mr. Fagg), I wonder he
does not persuade him to shove the old coach along one
mile an hour faster. His horses are, perhaps, unequalled
for size and condition, and would be all the better for
having something taken off their time, as it would take
some of the flesh off their bones, of which they have
quite too much at present.

My old friend John Probyn, late on Shackell's
Reading coach, has left the box nearly three years. Like
many others, he began by affecting a character, and
finished by adopting it— making a first-rate coachman.
It is pretty well known that Probyn is a member of one
of the oldest families in the county of Gloucester, and
heir to a large estate ; so that his taking professionally
to the road was only a lark, and he has now resumed his
place in society, having married a lady of excellent
family in South Wales. He is a very powerful coach-
man ; and upon my asking a brother whip if he did not
consider him a very good one, he answered in the
affirmative, but added, with a significant shake of the
head, ' Look at his cattle ! ' Now the fact is, that with
his fast coach, he could not have paid him a greater
compliment, for according to the old proverb, ' a bad
carpenter never has good tools.'

In that amusing work ' Geoffrey Crayon's Sketchbook,'
is to be found an attempt at the character of an English

264 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

coachman,1 and it only fails from having- been written by
a foreigner who is not quite conversant with the peculiar
language of the road. The description also would rather
apply to coachmen of a day now gone by, as for the
most part their appearance is much changed for the
better ; and however appropriate the language — ' the
broad full-face, curiously mottled with red, as if the blood
had been forced by hard-feeding and frequent potations
of malt liquors, into every vessel of the skin,' it is not the
present characteristic. The coachman of the present
time, generally speaking, drinks nothing on the road ; is
a very natty, spruce fellow, meaning nothing less than to
imitate his superiors in his dress, and now and then
rather too much disregarding the costume (when well
appointed, a very becoming one) of his profession.
Nothing, however, can be altogether more agreeable
than the change ; as with it we have not only a surety
for our lives, but passengers are not liable to have
their ears molested by any improper language, or
obscene jokes, which were rather too prevalent in the
Old School.

Were I to get my bread by the sweat of my brow
I would certainly be a coachman. Generally speaking
(and where is the rose without the thorn ?) his occu-
pation is a pleasant one. He is most commonly well
paid ; he knows his hours of work, and when he has
accomplished them he can enjoy himself in comfort. But
this is not all. From the coachman to the waggoner

1 See Chap. XVI. p. 84.

ON COACHMEN. 265

there is to each a charm that belongs peculiarly to the
road, which cheers all who are on it. They have their
favourite houses of call — they have the smile and good
wishes of the people whose habitations they pass by, and
many snug things besides known only to themselves. If
a coachman is good-looking, or agreeable, it does not
require a wise man to find out the many kind looks
bestowed upon him from the windows of the towns he
passes through. It is in his power also to be a sort
of magnet to his coach ; and, if he respects himself, no
man in the middle career of life is more respected by
others.

Philosophers tell us, that wit consists in quickly
assembling our ideas, and putting them together in an
instant. Now, as analogy is but the resemblance
between things with regard to circumstances or effects,
may there not exist something like analogy betwixt
putting ideas together quickly, and putting four horses to
a coach in sixty seconds of time ? Certain, however, is
it that, as far as my observation has led me, the faster the
coach the more sharp and ready is the coachman with all
his remarks and replies. Time, it must be admitted, will
not allow him to be verbose ; but several fast coachmen
of the present day have a happy knack of compressing
into a small compass whatever they may have to say, that
would not disgrace the best rhetorician of the age. One
of the most agreeable evenings I ever passed in my life
was in the society of Gentleman Taylor of the South-
ampton ' Telegraph,' who, exclusive of his excellent sing-
ing, kept the table in a roar by the many sharp things he

266 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

said. The circumstance of our meeting him was as
follows : I made one of a party to Southampton last
year, on a driving friend's coach, to dine with Billy
Lynn ; 1 and as we were all fond of the road, Taylor was
invited to meet us. It so happened that as Billy was
just returned from a three-months cruise on board the
different yachts, his lingo, in consequence, was all
nautical, and this gave birth to some most amusing
dialogues between himself and Taylor. To relate them
all would exceed my limits ; but when coupling together
coach-horses became the subject of our discourse, I
thought it would have been the death of some of us
when we heard Billy asking the coachman how he
braced up his leaders ? I have also been in the com-
pany of Peer, who drives the ' Telegraph ' over the upper
ground He is an excellent companion, and sings
' Sweet Poll of Portsea and Joe the Marine' in the very
best style.

Billy Lynn's speaking of ' bracing up ' his leaders
reminds me of an anecdote of Peer, which shows how
prone we are to form our ideas, as well as to express
them, by the rule of practice, and in reference to our
favourite pursuits. As I was riding one day by the side
of him on his box, we met a wretch in the shape of a
dandy, with his hair sticking out at least a foot from his

1 My friends assure me / must take this liberty with Mr. Lynn's name,
for were I to call him by any other it would be styled a misnomer. That
of ' Billy Lynn ' is a passport to everything sociable and what ought to be
enjoyed in this world ; and when we look in his face, we may say with
Shakespeare—

' Some jovial star reigned at your birth.'

ON COACHMEN. 267

hat. ' D n that fellow ! ' said Peer, ' how I should

like to put the twitch on him and pull his mane.'

Notwithstanding the innuendos and sneers — natural
enough, I admit — of those connected with the press, as
well as others, which were directed against gentlemen-
coachmen and the different driving clubs, it is to them
that the public are mainly indebted for the present excel-
lent state of the roads, and the safe and expeditious
travelling. This taste for the road produced an inter-
course between gentlemen of rank and property and
those connected with it, which has been productive of the
happiest results. The persons concerned with the ope-
rative part of the business — that is to say, road makers,
and others having the care of roads, if they have not
acted immediately under the directions of these amateurs,
have been very greatly benefited by their advance-
doubly valuable, as proceeding from their knowledge of
what a road ought to be. Let us look at the exertions
of Sir Henry Parnell, on the great Holyhead road.
Would the worthy Baronet ever have exerted himself
with such effect, had he not possessed a knowledge of
coaching and everything belonging to the working of a
coach, as perfectly as he is known to do ? Let us also
look at what Mr. Kenyon, of Pradoe, has done on the
same road. I remember — and I have driven it a hundred
times both by day and by night — the stage between
Shrewsbury and Oswestry (eighteen miles) to be as bad a
one as a coach ever travelled over. Part of it was a bed of
sand, and there were grips and water-courses on it that
were quite dangerous for blind horses, or for night- work.

268 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Being immediately under Mr. Kenyon's eye — long before
Mr. M'Adam was heard of in those parts — he set about
improving it. He had the water-courses covered over,
and, by degrees, the sandy part was all faced with hard
materials, and made nearly as good for a coach as it is
now. Neither is this all. As I said before, the inter-
course that has lately been carried on between proprietors
of inns and of coaches, and gentlemen fond of road-work,
has greatly tended to direct the attention of the former
to the accommodation and comforts of travellers : and
the notice taken by gentlemen of coachmen who conduct
themselves well, has worked the reformation we have of
late years witnessed in that useful part of the community.
I shall return to this subject presently.

Generally speaking, coachmen are clean and neat in
their persons. They plume themselves, as Geoffrey
Crayon says, on having a good bit of broad cloth, a clean
pair of boots, a well brushed hat, and good tie to the
cravat. This attention to their appearance never fails to
have its reward, and particularly among the female part
of the creation, who, I think, are generally well disposed
towards coachmen — probably on account of the hardships
and risks they endure on the road. Coach-proprietors also
are well aware how much a well-dressed and civil servant
adds to the amount of the wav-bill.

To such perfection is coaching advanced, that not
only are noblemen and gentlemen of the first respectability
now to be met with on the outside 1 of our fast coaches,

1 Despite of the alarms of Mr. John Lawrence that the market will be
overstocked with anecdote, I promise to introduce one if I think it may

ON COACHMEN. 269

but ladies of fashion are occasionally to be seen inside
them. I was surprised a few years ago by meeting a
lady of family and fortune at Bath, who told me she had
come thither from Cheltenham in a coach. • I n a coach ! ■
said I ; ' what coach ? ' 'By Captain Watson's coach,'
she replied ; ' I took places for myself and maid inside,
and one for my man servant out, and travelled as com-
fortably as I should have done in my own carriage, and
at half the expense. Everyone patronises Captain
Watson's coach.' The ladies, we know, are partial to
the red coat, and those who have a penchant for a black
one will find an excellent coachman in that toggery on
the Bath and London road by the name of Dennis, who,
my readers will remember, had the misfortune to have a

amuse your readers : — About fifteen years ago, a certain noble earl, a very
intimate friend of mine, and very fond of the road, had been on a visit to
the Marquis of Bath, and was taking a lark one night on one of the Bath
coaches. When they arrived at Marlborough his lordship thought he could
not do less than perform the honours of the supper table, and a lady being
of the party, of course he paid her the first compliment. ' Will you allow
me to send you some beef?' said my noble friend. No answer ! ' Permit
me, madam, to help you to some beef,' repeated his lordship. No answer /
Once more, and a little louder, ' Shall I send you any beef?' 'I never
speak to OUTSIDE PASSENGERS ! ' said the lady, with a contemptuous toss
of her head. The noble earl rang the bell, and told the waiter to send his
master into the room, when the following edaircissemeni took place, to the
great dismay of the fastidious lady.

My Lord : ' Oh, Mr. , order me a little supper at another table, as I

find I am unworthy of a seat at this ! '

Landlord : ' God bless me, my Lord ! is your Lordship here ? I am sure
I did not know it. Here, waiter ! — I hope your Lordship left all the family
well at Longleat.' To make the story short, my noble friend ate his supper
comfortably, and after taking his ' allowance,' resumed the box, and drove as
far as his coachman went. To keep up the joke, he opened the coach door
to kick the passengers for the coachman, when the old lady, as if wishing
to atone for her folly, put five shillings into his hand !

7o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

thigh broken last winter by the upsetting of his coach in
the town of Brentford.

The occupation of a coachman is, generally speaking,
a very healthy one. In the Old School, nothing could
have preserved their lives to any tolerably long period
but the bracing effects on the constitution of passing
rapidly through the air. They are for the most part of
robust frames — the exercise on the box not being suf-
ficient to keep down their flesh when at all inclined to
feed. Those who wish to keep themselves light take
walking exercise in their hours of rest from their road
work. Although their pursuits are various, almost all of
them are well inclined towards our different kinds of
sporting, particularly the ring ; many among the upper
order are much attached to the drama, and some of the
swells are often to be seen at the London theatres, very
well dressed, with a bit of nice muslin by their side.
The service of the coach-box, however, is apt to be in-
jurious to the eyes — particularly so in very cold blowing
weather. A coachman must keep his eye forward, and I
have tried it, and found that the sight cannot be fixed
upon anything beyond the heads of the wheel horses
without raising the eyelid (and not so far as this with
short men), and consequently exposing the eye to the
weather. Six parts of cold spring water to one of French
brandy is the best lotion that can be used when the eyes
suffer from weather.

Medical men are not averse to coachmen takine a
fair allowance of vinous or spirituous liquors in very cold
weather, sufficient, as they say, to keep out the weather ;

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 271

or, in other words, to promote the circulation of the
blood.1 Although they recommend them to preserve
their feet and bodies from cold, they are no advo-
cates for their lapping up their necks with large shawl
handkerchiefs ; but, on the contrary, they attribute the
illness and death of many of them to this cause alone.
In cold weather the chin should be protected by a thin
shawl, and the knees by good thick cloth knee-caps.
Leather waistcoats are excellent preventives of rheu-
matism, and in very severe weather the breast should be
doubly protected, for which purpose hare-skins are now
manufactured, and getting much into use on the road.
The leather waistcoat is very strongly recommended, as
not being parous, and therefore warm. It is also as-
serted, but I have never tried it, that a sheet of brown
paper worn over the breast is preferable to either. The
recipe is simple and cheap.

THE R D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB.

Having mentioned the Driving Clubs as contributing
so effectually to the improvements in roads and travelling,
I proceed to a little account of their origin and pro-
ceedings.

The B. D. C. or Benson Driving Chib, was instituted
on February 28, 1807, consisting of twenty-five members
elected by ballot. There is no annual subscription, but

1 To be effectual, take it ' cold with,' — Ed,

■272

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

each member pays the sum of ten pounds on his admis-
sion. Since its establishment, the Club has, of course
lost several members by death ; but at present it is nearly
full, and the following is a correct list : —

Mr. Petre.

Sir Henry Peyton.
Mr. Harrison.
Mr. Henry Villebois.
Mr. Okeover.
Colonel Hamilton.
Mr. Warde.
Colonel Sevvell.
Mr. ThornhilL
Mr. Bunbury.
Mr. Prouse.
Mr. Spicer.
Mr. Maxse.

Lussars.

Sir Bellinoham Graham.

Marquis of Worcester.

Colonel Clements, 18th Hi

Sir Andrew Barnard.

Mr. Blake.

Mr. John Walker.

Mr. H. Wombwell.

The Honourable H. Scott.

Mr. Charles Jones.

Lord Anson.

Mr. Applethwaite.

For sixteen years after this club was established, the
members met two days in the year at the White Hart
Inn, at Benson, in Oxfordshire, and two at the Black Dog,
at Bedfont, fourteen miles from London, on the Great
Western Road ; but since the year 1823, they have con-
fined themselves entirely to Bedfont, it being a more
convenient distance from London. In all, there have
been seventy-six meetings of the B. D. C, and the anni-
versary is held on February 28. No strangers are
admitted.

I will proceed to some notice of the different members.
Of Sir Henry Peyton little need be said. As a coach-
man he is as well known as any man upon the road, and

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 273

his opinion is held in high esteem. His colour has
always been grey, and his stable generally consists of
ten coach horses. His pace is not fast, but it is well
calculated to see horses work, and his are beautifully put
together. I saw him pull back his team last spring in a
crowd in London, and every rein told as true as if it had
been single. He works regularly, summer and winter,
•though occasionally some of his coach horses are out in
the latter season. He has, however, always one team up
in the winter, and he often brings a load of sportsmen to
the covert's side. From his house to Oxford — eighteen
miles, — is his favourite ground, and it is a good hard road
for wheels. Sir Henry first introduced the ornaments,
the cap and the thumb-ferrel, on the four-horse whips,
which we now generally see in the hands of our swell
coachmen. That he may long live to enjoy his favourite
amusements, is the wish of every man who knows him.
Mr. Algernon Peyton, the Baronet's brother, is a very
capital coachman, but he has not had a team for some
years — perhaps, not thinking it consistent with the fine
church preferment he is in possession of. He was very
good on the box when at Cambridge, and worked much
on the road, which is the only education for a coachman.
Gentleman's work, alone, will never do.

' No man in England ' is better horsed than Mr.
Harrison, of Shelswell in Oxfordshire, and he is a very
good coachman. His colour is brown ; and when I
inform my readers that he will go as far as three
hundred guineas for a coach horse the tale is told. His
pace is quick, and his team can generally give most

T

274 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

others the go-by, when their coachman gives them the
office. I am sorry to say Mr. Harrison's health has not
been quite good of late years, which accounts for our
not seeing him on the road so often as we could wish.
His turn-out is very prime.

Mr. Henry Villebois is younger brother to the gen-
tleman of that name who keeps a pack of fox-hounds in
Hampshire. He is a great agriculturist, and, having no
regular team at present, is not often at work ; but he is a
very pretty coachman.

Mr. Okeover is well known upon the road, and a
coachman of some standing. He is considered very
good, but not often to be seen now on his own coach-
box. Colonel Hamilton is in the Guards — very fond of
the road, but in no great practice.

Mr. Warde 1 is almost too well known to require a
single line ; but when he is the theme, I cannot put
down my pen, he being certain to furnish me with some-
thing amusing. He is a coachman of at least fifty years'
standing ; and from having been always used to heavy
work, knows his business well. As I before said, he
worked a great deal on the Birmingham and Shrewsbury
'Old Prince,' and the heavy 'Gloucester;' and having, like
myself, often had the sole charge of the coach, he is
pretty well awake to most things. I have to record one
feat performed by him, which has not often been ex-
ceeded, as far as personal exertion goes :— He drove the
heavy 'Gloucester' from London to that town, one hundred

1 The Father of Foxhunting ; fifty-two years an M.F.H.— Editor.

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 275

and ten miles ; and after taking some refreshment he
turned back, and drove it into London. In those
days there was no guard on this coach ; so that, what
with locking and unlocking wheels, and the regular busi-
ness on the road, he had quite enough to do, having no
one to help him.

Although a good coachman, Mr. Warde, like most of
the old ones, is not without his fancies. He will not
hear of the long wheel-rein, neither will he bear up his
horses. His cattle, however, are of the steady sort, and
generally more calculated for strength than speed. He
has also another peculiarity in his coaching system. He
thinks baiting horses on a journey does them more harm
than good, therefore never stops them in their day's
work, unless to wash out their mouths. When he hunted
Northamptonshire, he always drove the same team to
London in a day, the distance being full sixty miles.
He still adheres to the same plan.

My readers will be glad to hear that Mr. Warde is not
going to leave the road. He told me, a few weeks back,
that he had reserved a team out of his hunters, and that
he should soon be at work again. His present drag is
rather of the funny order. It is a gig upon very high
wheels, and an outrigger on the near side. As it is cus-
tomary to put a horse of this description on the off side,
I asked him his reason for changing his place, when he
gave me two reasons for doing so. ' First,' said he,
'when you meet another carriage, he is not in the way;
and secondly, if he should take to kicking, he hits your
man, and not you.'—' Good,' said I.

T 2

276 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

The sporting world must also be rejoiced to hear that
Mr. Warde has quite recovered from his late illness, and
is looking fresh and well. His spirits, however, never
forsook him, and when at his worst he had always a
joke for a friend. I called upon him one day in London
to ask him how he did. ' Oh,' said he, ' I am as well as
any man can be, who is allowed to drink nothing but
lemonade and soda water ; but my stomach thinks my
throat is cut.' He did not, as usual, make one of us at
Mr. Tattersall's dinner, the Sunday before last Epsom
races ; but ' Next year,' said he, ' I'll come to you, and
eat and drink for two.'

Mr. Warde scarcely ever misses a dinner at the
B. D. C, and if he do not take a team of his own, he
is always to be seen on Sir Bellingham Graham's box, and
it is needless to say that he adds greatly to the pleasure and
jollity of the evening. He has, of course, several good
anecdotes of the performances of the B. D. C, many of
the members of which he might almost consider as his
children. It happened at one meeting that he did not
go down the road either with his own team or Sir
Bellingham's, but with another friend, who must be
nameless. The evening had been a merry one ; and
both himself and his brother dragsman — in the language
of the road were — sprung. As he mounted the box, his
friend addressed him thus: 'My horses have but two
paces by lamplight — a walk and a gallop — which will
you have ?' — ' Oh, a gallop, by all means,' answered Mr.
Warde. ' Now where do you think we pulled up ? ' con-
tinued he ; ' why, between the two last horses of an eight-

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 277

horse Exeter waggon' It happened one night that his
Majesty changed horses at Bedfont, soon after the Club
had dined. On beino- informed that his carriage was at
the door, they drank his health with three times three.
The King shortly afterwards saw one of the party at
Court, and acknowledged the compliment paid to him.
' Was not old John Warde among you ?' said his Majesty.
On being answered in the affirmative, he replied, that
he thought he knew his halloa.

Of Colonel Sewell I have seen nothing for some
years past, having been much abroad — in India, I
believe — but he is good on the box ; and Mr. Bunbury
has no team now. He had four clever chesnuts. I
never saw Mr. Thornhill at work, so can say nothing of
him on the bench.

The next member of the B. D. C. of whom I am
enabled to say anything, is that well-known coachman,
Mr. Prouse — also one of the Old School, and a very
entertaining companion. His scene of action has been
chiefly confined to the Great Western Road, on which,
at one time, he worked almost as much as any regular
man. In the evening he is a good bit of company.
After five bottles of hock, which he could put under his
waistcoat at a sitting without the smallest inconvenience,
he has often been seen to fill a bumper, and place the
glass on his head during the time he would sing a song,
in which not only every coachman's, but every horse-
keeper's name between London and Plymouth was in-
troduced. At the same time also, he would pfo through
the manoeuvres of hitting wheeler and leader, without

278 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

spilling a drop of his wine ; and after he had drunk it off,
he would run the empty glass up and down the large silver
buttons on his coat, with very singular effect.

Mr. Prouse has seldom been without a team of his
own, and, though I have often seen him at work, I can-
not say much in honour of his turn-out. His steeds did
not look as if they were ' begotten of the wind ' ; but he
always preferred heavy work — perhaps because he is a
heavy man. He is now become the possessor of a fine
estate in Gloucestershire, lately the property of an old
friend of mine, now deceased, but I fear he is getting
slack on the coach-box.

Mr. Prouse is a warm admirer of the road, and, in
the spring of the year, is generally to be seen leaning his
back against the window of the carpet-bhop in Piccadilly,
whence he can see all the coaches that are leaving town
by way of Hyde Park Corner. Numerous anecdotes are
related of him, amongst which is the following — pretty
strong of ' the ruling passion' : He was dining one day
in a party, when the French Revolution became the sub-
ject of conversation. Listening to all that was said with-
out making any remark, Mr. Prouse at length took a
letter from his pocket, and addressed his company thus :
' Don't talk to me about your French Revolution.
Here's Bill Simmons, the first man that ever drove the
Bristol mail out of Bristol, d — n me, if they haven't
turned him over to the heavy coach. Now that's what I
call a revolution ! '

Mr. Spicer always has a team. He is allowed to be
a very good hand and excellent judge ; but Mr. Maxse

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 279

is what we call ' on the shelf.' The latter gentleman,
however, gives a good reason for quitting the coach-box.
' I hunt in Leicestershire,' says he, ' all winter, and all
summer I am in my yacht, so that I have no time to
drive.' I have been by the side of Mr. Maxse, and con-
sider him a very good workman.

Mr. Petre is known by having driven a coach, nearly
a facsimile of our mails, and he is never without a team.
He has a large property in Lancashire, and was a
member of the Old Club at Melton.

Of Sir Bellingham Graham as a coachman I have
already spoken, and he stands very high in the list of
good ones. His coach-horse stables in London are well
worth seeing, as everything belonging to the drag is kept
in apple-pie order, and he has always a strong stock of
cattle. He has been for some time out of conceit with
large horses, being of opinion that about fifteen hands
one or two inches, with substance and action, is about the
stamp for light work in harness.

The Marquis of Worcester is becoming a coachman
of some standing and considerable experience, as, exclu-
sive of his own horses, he works a good deal on the road.
His favourite coaches are the Southampton 'Telegraph '
and the Oxford ' Defiance,' and here his lordship shows
his taste. As for Peer, on the former, I have no hesita-
tion in saying that he is peerless — or, like Hunt's blacking,
matchless ; and Thomas on the ' Defiance ' is very good.

Of Colonel Clements I can say but little, never having
seen him at work. He was, I believe, a long time in the
1 8th Hussars, and generally has a team. Neither did I

28o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

ever see Sir Andrew Barnard on the bench, but he is
very fond of the thing, and is what the world calls ' a
capital fellow.' He has been a good deal at work in
another line with his Grace the Duke of Wellington in
the held of battle. Mr. Blake also has been some time
abroad, but is a very neat coachman.

Mr. John Walker is well known to the public as
having horsed and driven a Bognor coach for the period
of nearly two years. His brother, Mr. Richard Walker,
of Mitchel Grove (once the property of Sir John Shelley,
and pronounced by the late King to be the best house in
England), also horsed the same coach one side of the
ground, but did not drive it, and they had separate
stables and different changes on the road. This lark,
however, did not last two years, I conclude for the best
of reasons. All those acquainted with coaching are
aware that, where the returns are limited, expenses 1 must
be limited also, and that all above forty pounds given for
coach horses is seldom seen again, as, upon the average,
they do not last to work it out. Messrs. Walkers'
Bognor coaches, however, were worked in most superior
style, and it is allowed on all hands that they set the ex-
ample of neatness and comfort to many others. Their
outside seats were all furnished with easy cushions for
passengers to sit upon, and the hoops of the box and the
roof-irons padded, so as not to hurt their hips. All this,
however, would not do. A coach is but a coach after
all, and, unless the sixpences be turned into ninepences,

1 There was also a strong opposition to contend with from the Golden
Cross, and the Ship, Charing Cross.

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 281

it will not do for one proprietor to give sixty guineas
for a horse, whilst his opponent gives but forty. Such,
however, I have reason to believe, was a good deal the
case with the two Messrs. Walker, and such was one
of the causes of their putting down their coaches. Their
stock was sold by the hammer last winter for pretty good
prices, and, when 1 was with Sir Bellingham Graham
in Shropshire, Mr. John Walker made him a present of
a favourite leader, by way of a keepsake from an old
friend.

Mr. John Walker, who drove his own coach (a neat
little coachman by the name of Butcher driving his
brother's) is nothing less than a beautiful coachman, with
the benefit of much experience to boot. He puts a
horse to a coach in a particularly neat manner, and can
drive him as well as most of the best of them when he
gets him there. He has now a team of his own, and has
taken to hunting again, having been last season in War-
wickshire. He once had the Hambledon country, where
he was considered a good sportsman ; and his elder
brother is well established as a judicious breeder of race
horses, having produced Longwaist, a winner of the Oaks,
&c. &c.

Of Mr. H. Wombwell and the Hon. H. Scott I can
say nothing, never having seen them on a coach-box ;
but Mr. Charles Jones (brother to Sir Tyrwhitt) is a
very neat performer, and quite in love with road work.
Like the Walkers, he had a bit of a turn in the public
line : but his lark did not last long. He horsed and
drove the Brighton ' Monarch ' coach for a few months

282 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

only. Mr. Sumner, son of the late member for Surrey,
was a member of this Club, but has resigned, and his
place is filled up by Lord Anson. Having never seen
his lordship at work, I cannot speak of his merits or
demerits in this line. Mr. Applethwaite was also elected
last year. The Hon. Thomas Kenyon, Mr. Whitmore,
of Apley Castle, in Shropshire, and Lord Southampton,
were for several years members of this Club.

The B. D. C. has been very liberal of its services
in behalf of such coachmen, of good character, who from
accident or illness have stood in need of pecuniary assist-
ance.1 The number of members who now have teams
at work does not exceed twelve.

Very shortly after the establishment of the B. D. C,
another Coaching Club was formed under the auspices of
that long-established and very scientific coachman, Mr.
Charles Buxton. This has been erroneously called the
Whip Club, as also the Four-in-hand Club ; but its real
title was the Four- Horse Club. Their first meeting was
held in April 1808, and they met every first and third
Thursday in May, and the same in June, at the house of
their President in Cavendish Square, and drove to Salt
Hill to dinner. They dined alternately at the ' Windmill '
and the ' Castle,' and each house took in the horses which
the other could not accommodate. Mr. Buxton, if present,

1 A friend of mine, to whom I wrote to know if he were now a member
of this Club, replied in the following words : — ' I am not now a member of
the B.D.C., but was for several years ; and I can truly say, I never saw more
good fellowship and friendship amongst any set of men than existed among
them. They annually relieved several coachmen who were in distress, and
were the chief means of establishing the Benevolent Club, which I hope will
long continue to prosper.'

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 283

always presided at the dinner table ; and Sir John
Rogers, vice. If these members were absent, the late
Lord Hawke, and his brother, Mr. Martin Hawke, acted
for them. Two guineas a head cleared all expenses,
save horses, to the bona-Jide members ; and three guineas
were charged to those who were honorary ones. As no
strangers were admitted, I can only repeat what I have
heard — namely, that the utmost good-fellowship prevailed
at those periodical meetings, and from the present
number of teams now going in the neighbourhood of
London — upwards of thirty — it is a matter of surprise
that the Club is not renewed.

The procession of this Club in Cavendish Square was
perhaps objectionable, as making unnecessary parade ;
and the B. D. C. managed the matter better ; but the
going down the road was good. Luncheon for thirty was
always set out at the ' Packhorse ' at Turnham Green,
with cider cup, made with hock and burrage ; and the
same at the ' Magpies ' on Hounslow Heath, eight miles
farther down the road. Here also the horses were
watered, but they ran the ground to Salt Hill, and back
the next clay, without being taken out of their harness —
the distance, twenty-four miles from Cavendish Square.
The number of teams generally amounted to about a
dozen — each dragsman having an honorary member on
his bench.

During the period of this Club, my Lord Sefton was
at work, and better horsed, perhaps, than any other man
in England. His Lordship neither belonged to this, nor to
the B. D. C, but he was frequently in the habit of going

284 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

down the road on the days of the Four- Horse Club
Meetings, and used to amuse himself with giving them
the go-by whenever he thought proper. It was vain to
contend with him, as he was quite too fast for any of
them. I often regret that Lord Sefton has taken off his
bars, for we have lost one of our first-rate artists.

I only recollect the following members of the Four-
Horse Club, but perhaps some of your correspondents
will favour me by adding to the list : —

Mr. Buxton. This gentleman is, as I before men-
tioned, very scientific, and supposed to be the best
hand at breaking in young ones, and putting them well
into harness, of anyone going. His experience is great.
The bit which takes its name from him, and is called the
Buxton bit, has much merit. Exclusive of other advan-
tages, it is a preventive of a horse getting the cheek into
his mouth, when he becomes nearly unmanageable. The
late Lord Hawke was a fair coachman, and had excellent
taste in harness and carriages.1 His head-terret has
been generally adopted.

Sir Felix Agar is a beautiful light coachman, and dis-
tinguished by a certainly hitherto-unrivalled exploit on
the bench. He drove his coach for a wager, in and
out of, and around the ' Fox,' in Messrs. Tattersall's yard,
in a trot. The bet was a dinner to a large party, and
the bettor on the other side of the question was Mr.
Ackers, who of course had the piper to pay. If either

1 Lord Foley was at work a good deal in these days, and was remark-
able for the neatness of his turn-out. I have at this time the receipt of Lord
Sefton's coachman for blacking leather — the best I ever met with. Patent
leather for pads and winkers was not known at this period.

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 285

horse had dropped into a walk, the wager would have
been lost; and it is wonderful this had not happened,
when we consider the small space allowed the horses to
turn in. Sir Felix did it with the short wheel-rein and
no breechinQf- Sir Bellino'ham Graham was also one of
this Club, as was Sir Godfrey Webster ; and Mr. Martin
Hawke, clever at anything he undertook ; Mr. M'Ouin ;
Mr. Humphrey Butler — the latter very fair on the box,
and capital over the mahogany — chanting in the best style,
and the evening never too long for himself or his com-
pany. Mr. Ackers is a coachman of great experience for
his years, having never been without a team since he
started in life. I have travelled some thousands of miles
with him, and never saw him in a scrape. He is capitally
horsed at this time, and has just taken Sir FrancisBurdett's
fine place at Ramsbury, for the purpose of being near the
Bath road. Mr. Ackers is a good judge of a carriage,
and showed me an excellent improvement the other day
in his coach. His sway bar is made to turn in a groove,
so that in case of his perch-bolt wearing smaller — which
it will do on gravel roads, by the friction of the gritty
substances that get into the bolt-bole — the fore-bed does
not feel the effects of it, and therefore the pole is quite
steady in the futchells, which cannot be the case when
the perch-bolt wears.

Mr. M'Ouin, Captain Murray, Mr. Sherrard, Major
Pellew, Lord Clinton, Mr. Paul Methuen, Sir John John-
stone, Mr. Harrison, Sir John Broughton, Sir Charles
Bamfylde, Mr. Osbaldeston, Mr. Morgan, and Mr.
Stephen Atkinson were also members of this Club, but

2S6 AXXALS OF THE ROAD.

I cannot speak to their performance as coachmen. I
have heard that Mr. Atkinson could drive four horses
well. Mr. Osbaldeston's yellow coach — the original
' Canary ' — we all must remember ; as also the late Sir
Charles Bamfylde and his roans ; but Sir Charles's pace
was much too slow for these times.

The pace, however, of gentlemen, as of all road work,
has greatly increased since the period I have been speak-
ing of, and a still greater change has taken place in the
kind of horse. The coach horse of the present day, for
anything but a six-inside coach, is a well-bred, thick
horse, of moderate size, who, though he may not make
so grand an appearance, when standing still, as those of
loftier figure, yet can run his ground from end to end
without a slack trace, and beat the big ones into fits.

Although I have been completely at a loss to recon-
cile the unbounded honours bestowed by the ancients
upon those who could turn a corner neatly in their
chariots at the Olympic games (and, with the exception of
the nerve J required to force their way through the
crowd, in this did their chief merit consist), yet I am
quite convinced that great benefit arises to the com-
munity from associations such as those I have been de-
scribing. Leaving out of question the previous advan-
tages that I have recorded, relating to roads and travel-
lers, which have clearly sprung from this source, the
good to trade is a great consideration. The common
expenses of a gentleman's driving establishment are

1 According to Pindar forty chariots have been broken in one race, and
Sophocles calls it ' a shipwreck by land.'

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB. 2S7

calculated at twelve hundred per annum, if he does the
thing as it should be ; but where there is a strong spirit
of rivalship, a great deal more. This is not all : the
constant circulation of money on the road does a great
deal of good ; and the probability is, that if there were
not this strong temptation to spend it here, it might
either be taken out of the country, or left in some gam-
bling house in London. Nor indeed can there be a much
more rational way of spending it by those who have it to
spend. What can be more pleasant than the use many
gentlemen make of their teams in the London season ?
Instead of stewing in the streets, or going through the
same dull round of the Park, they drive their friends,
male and female, a few miles into the country to dinner,
and return in the evening — if they wish it — in time for
the Opera, or any engagements they may have. Rich-
mond is one grand rendezvous on these occasions, and
Greenwich — to eat whitebait — another; to each of which
I have accompanied many pleasant parties. To prove,
however, that the taste for this species of amusement is
not much on the decline, I subjoin a list of no less than
forty-six gentlemen who have teams, or who, in more
technical language, are now at work.

Sir Henry Peyton.

Mr. Annesley.

Mr. Harrison.

Sir Bellineham Graham.

Mr. Ackers.
Mr. Cox.

Honourable Fitzroy Stan-
hope.1

1 Mr. Fitzroy Stanhope is one of the best gentlemen coachmen we have,
a first-rate man on his box, and an excellent judge of everything belonging
to a carriage. Messrs. Wright and Powell have just turned him out one of

288

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Honourable Lincoln Stan-
hope.1

Honourable Leicester
Stanhope.

Mr. Arnold.2

Mr. Payne (of Sulby).3

Mr. Loveborne.

Mr. Petre.4

Lord Harborough.5

Lord Muncaster.

Mr. Concreve.

Mr. Smith Barry.6

Mr. Fletcher.7

Lord Clonmel.8

Sir John Broughton.9

Lord BeWave.

Mr. Paulett.

Mr. John Walker.

Mr. Applethwaite.10

Colonel Berkeley.

Mr. Warde.

Mr. Wadham Wyndham.

1 1

the best road coaches I ever saw, and finished in superior style. They have
also just completed a carriage called a britchka for his brother, the Honourable
Leicester Stanhope, the construction of which is most curious. By the
movement of different parts of the body, it forms an agreeable open carriage
by day, and a convenient bedchamber by night.

1 Mr. Lincoln Stanhope is in the 17th Light Dragoons, and has been
several years in India, so it is not in my power to speak to his performance
on the road.

2 Mr. Arnold was in the Blues, and used to work a good deal on the
Windsor coaches, but I have not seen him at work of late years.

3 Mr. Payne's turn-out is very good. His horses are well-bred and neat,
but generally too bare of flesh for coach horses.

4 Mr. Petre drives a coach like a mail, and is pretty well horsed.

5 Lord Harborough drives nothing that cannot trot fourteen miles an
hour.

6 Mr. Smith Barry has a very neat team of greys, which he has driven
seven years, and he is a very steady coachman. His coachman is one of the
most careful and experienced servants, in his line, I ever met with ; and, for
cleanliness and preservation of his master's property, an example to all
others.

7 Mr. Fletcher resides near Southampton, and also drives greys.

8 Lord Clonmel is become a steady good coachman.

9 Sir John Broughton is never without a team, and knows his business
well.

10 Mr. Applethwaite was elected a member of the B.D.C. last year, and
has a neat team of greys.

11 Mr. Wadham Wyndham resides in Wilts, and was elected a member of
the B.D.C. at the same time as Mr. Applethwaite.

THE B. D. C, AND FOUR-HORSE CLUB.

289

Colonel Clements.

Mr. St. George Caulfield.1

Sir Laurence Palk.2

Sir John Rogers.

Mr. Holyoake.3

Mr. Dolphin.4

Mr. Henry Wormwald.5

Mr. Stevenson.6

Mr. Spicer.
Lord Anson.

Honourable Thomas Ken-
yon.
Mr. Musgrave.7
Mr. Russell.8
Colonel Allen.
Mr. Allen.9

1 Mr. St. George Caulfield turns out in tip-top style, but is at present
young in the art.

2 Sir Laurence Palk, an experienced coachman for his age, and esteemed
a very pretty workman.

3 Mr. Holyoake drives, as he rides, with rare nerve, and can put them
pretty well together. He sold his greys last winter to Mr. Russell for 300
guineas, but soon replaced them.

4 Mr. Dolphin has got what may be termed the grandest team of horses
now going, though not the cut of the present day. They are as handy
as a fiddle, and well they may be ; for Sir Bellingham Graham drove them
four years before Mr. Dolphin purchased them. They are fancy colours,
and Mr. Dolphin told me he would give 200 guineas for a match horse to
either of them. They are wonderfully fresh on their legs for their age, and
as fat as Shrewsbury brawn. Mr. Dolphin is devoted to the box, and a very
fair workman.

5 Mr. Henry Wormwald resides at Ainderby, near Northallerton in
Yorkshire, and is much attached to the road.

6 Mr. Stevenson has only lately left Cambridge University, but he took
a good degree in our line, and is considered a very promising coachman.

7 Mr. Musgrave, younger brother to Sir Philip Musgrave. He has a
beautiful new coach just turned out.

8 Mr. Russell has two teams, and might have as many as King Solomon
himself if he were so inclined ; for he has nothing to do but to dig for the
needful. I saw the finest coach dog in his stables last spring that ever came
under my observation. Mr. Russell is fond of the road, and wishes to become
a coachman.

9 [This gentleman, an excellent dragsman, who was in the habit of driving
many hundred miles in the year, shod his coach-horses with a tip, only having
the heel on the ground. To show how quick he was on the box, cne day
starting out of a yard the near horse's off roller-bolt broke ; calling his man,
he at once told him to put the near-wheeler's off-trace over the off-wheeler's
near roller-bolt ! Having chain ends to his traces this was easily done. — Ed.].

U

290 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

Mr. Christmas.
Mr. Claggett.

Mr. Langs ton.
Colonel Sibthorpe.1

N.B. Those gentlemen on whom I have here made
no remarks, are either so well-known as dragsmen of the
first class that nothing requires to be said, or they are
only known to me by name.

ON ACCIDENTS.

So loner as coaches run, there will and must be acci-
dents, but I am quite prepared to show that ninety out of
a hundred are the effect of carelessness. I profess no
superior skill, but, barring the breaking of an axletree or
reins — and in the latter case this can generally be traced
to carelessness — I think that, in the present state of the
road, I could drive a coach for half a century, and not
throw her over. I havre worked a great deal, both by
night and by day, but never saw an accident with a coach
any further than a horse falling down or breaking a leg,
and I can only recollect two or three instances of this
sort. Let us look at some of the late fatal mishaps that
have occurred on the road. The Stroudwater coachman
knew he had a hill to go down which required the wheel
to be tied. What did he ? Why, he never attempted to
pull up his coach till she began to descend the hill, and
then, from the great weight that was in her, his horses

1 M.P. for Lincolnshire. Colonel Sibthorpe drives nothing but greys,
and purchases every grey horse likely to come in with his others, that is bred
in his neighbourhood.

ON ACCIDENTS. 291

could not hold her back, and away she went, and killed
an outside passenger. What did Phillips, the coachman
of the ' Stamford,' do ? He saw a waggon going down a
hill before him, and, instead of collecting his horses some
distance before he got to it, he trusted to its getting out
of his way just when he wished : it did not get out of his
way in time, and he was killed on the spot. The Liver-
pool mail was left in the street with only one man at the
heads of the horses : they ran away, and the proprietors
paid 350/. for the damages sustained. The same thing
happened the other day to the York 'Highflyer' and
the Ewel coach. Of this description of accidents there
have been several of late years, and they must happen
if horses are left in such a situation. I will defy the
strongest man in England to control four horses when he
is standing on the ground, if they are inclined to break
away. This reminds me of a very singular occurrence
some years back with the Chester and Manchester mail.
At this period the roads between those towns were paved.
The person who horsed the mails being of opinion that a
unicorn or pick-axe team was better over that sort of
ground than four horses (the leaders being apt to contend
for the middle of the pavement, which was narrow, and
occasionally pushed each other off it), such was the team
always used. About four miles from Chester the guard
and coachman went into a house to wash their mouths
out, leaving the horses in charge of a man, from whom,
however, they bolted, and pursued their road to Chester.
I happened to be staying there at the time, and went to

see the mail come in. It was a dark, tempestuous night,

u 2

292 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

and the lamps were lit ; but the old grey leader brought
his coach down a narrow street, and turned an awkward
corner in grand style, stopping at the Post Office as
usual. Seeing a crowd collect about the coach, the pas-
sengers began to enquire what the matter was, not having
been previously aware of their alarming situation. What
renders this more extraordinary, is the fact of the coach
having passed three waggons in the four miles of ground.
At one period of my life I used to work a good deal on
those paved roads, and have been much struck with the
sagacity of the wheel horses that have been some time
at work on them ; for the moment they perceived the
wheels on their side the coach were off the pavement,
the)- would, of their own accord, get them on again, being
aware of the increased draught.

Although I have said I never witnessed a bad acci-
dent by a coach, I have been within an ace of it two or
three times. I was once driving a very quick opposition
for a coachman who wanted a few days' rest, when the
man who was at work on the coach that was running
against me was killed. These coaches were in the habit
of galloping by each other, and we had had a taste of it
on this day. At last my opponent ran by me at a tre-
mendous pace, his coach swinging in a frightful manner.
We pulled up shortly after at a watering house, when I
told him I thought his coach did not carry her load
steadily. He smiled, and said 'all was right.' He pro-
ceeded, and, turning round a corner at a rapid rate,
she swung over, and he was killed. His name was Jem
Robins, a very pretty coachman, and he drove the oppo-

OX ACCIDEXTS.

;93

sition to the old-established Shrewsbury and Chester
' Highflyer' — forty miles of as good ground for a coach
as can be found in E no land.

A most awful accident befel the fellow-servant to Jem
Robins, equally the effect of carelessness. In descending
Overton Hill, between Wrexham and Ellesmere, he
suffered the coach to get the better of his horses ; and in
passing the bridge at the bottom, in a turn, the coach
made such a heel that he was thrown from his box into
the River Dee, with a fall of about forty feet. He had
his box coat on at the time, and the river was swollen by
rain, so that his life must have been lost, had not a fisher-
man been passing accidentally in his coracle, and picked
him up.

I have to record a singular escape that once happened
to myself, in a coach of my own. I took a party, consist-
ing of four inside and four out, a journey of two hundred
and twenty miles. After I had set down my load, with the
exception of one on the box, and was walking the horses
to the stables, the hinder axletree broke short in two.1 I
had observed the wheels had not tracked as they ought,
for the last stage or two, and I intended having her in
dock when I got to my journey's end. Whenever it is
perceived that the wheels of a coach make four tracks,
instead of two, on a straight road, there is always some-
thing wrong.

As nothing can be depended upon in the way of art,

1 An accident similar to this once happened to the Worcester ' Old Fly,'
a long-established coach. In the act of changing horses in a town, one of
her axletrees gave way, and down she went.

294 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

axletrees will occasionally give way, under great pressure,
and serious accidents must arise from the consequence,
which, nine times in ten, is the upsetting of the coach.
Sometimes it happens that the fore-wheel, when it loses
its support, inclines inwards towards the carriage, and
catching hold either of the bottom of the body of the
coach, the springs, or beds — prevents her going over.
As when a coach is croino- fast, there is more weieht on
the fore-wheels than on the hinder ones, it is the fore axle-
tree that generally breaks. The axletrees of mail coaches
very seldom give way, because they are not so heavily
laden as the stages. I never heard of but one, and that
was on the Holyhead mail, when a very good coachman,
by the name of Small, was killed.

Axletrees, however, are now made upon very im-
proved principles, and upon those which almost insure
safety. They are manufactured from scrap iron (the best
K. O., or King and Queen, as it is called), and composed
of three bars, fagoted cdge-ivays. We all are aware, that
if we take a common lath, and bend it flat-ways it breaks
with little force; but it takes a good deal to break it edge-
ways. There is also another security. Formerly, there
were five bolt-holes through the fore axletrees, and three
through the hinder ones. Now there are only, with im-
proved makers at least, three in the fore, and one in the
hinder — namely, one for the perchbolt, and two through
the lower transom plate in the former ; and one through
the perch, but none through the wings (as formerly), in
the latter. These axletrees are now in great part made
fast to their beds with clips, which necessarily strengthen

ON ACCIDENTS. 295

instead of weakening- them, as before. Boxes being upon
springs also are greatly in favour of axletrees, as the
weight is so much more alive upon them than it was
upon the old principle.

I was once in a singular, and at the same time most
dangerous situation on a coach box, the effect of larking,
or, at all events, it might have been avoided. I was
driving a very fast coach, and saw a large broad-wheel
cart before me, in the middle of the road, with the carter
asleep in the bed of it. By way of awakening him, I
double-thonged him, as I would a wheel horse, as I
passed him, and the whistle of my whip set his horses
off. There was one in the shafts, with two abreast as
leaders ; and as ill luck would have it, the chain trace of
the off-leader in the cart caught upon my near-side roller-
bolt. The consequence was, both carriages were locked
together, and it was impossible to disengage them. The
cart-horses went as fast as they could gallop ; and the
rattling of their empty cart so alarmed my horses that I
had the greatest difficulty in regulating my pace by theirs,
and if I had not they must have pulled me over. The
cart horses got blown at last, when we all pulled up to-
gether; and fortunately they went nearly straight, or a
dreadful accident must have happened. I had a friend
on the box with me who had just recovered from a
nervous fever, and it was almost the death of him.

I have to record another very singular accident to a
coach which also might have been prevented. It was
upset into an immense heap of straw, with the lamps lit ;
but fortunately the glass of the lamp next the straw, did

296 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

not break, or coach and horses (and perhaps a passenger
or two) would have all been consumed together. I must
not name coach, or coachman, but a Reverend whip
had hold of them at the time. Fifteen years back, the
Newmarket and Ipswich mail ran foul of a waggon loaded
with hay, and the glass of one of the lamps — which were
lit — breaking, hay and wawon were consumed.

Presence of mind is much required when an accident
happens to a coach, and outside passengers should never
think of quitting a coach by jumping from the fore part
of her, at least, until she falls to the ground. A friend of
mine was put to the test some years since on the Leeds
mail, and although he did not exercise his presence of
mind to the full extent, he fared better than his com-
panions in danger. The reins broke ; the coachman fell
from his box, and broke his leg ; and the horses ran
away at full speed. My friend was on the box ; but on
the roof was a very corpulent man who made two
attempts to quit the coach, which my friend prevented.
No longer to be restrained, he leaped, and was killed on
the spot. My friend kept his seat for more than a mile,
but seeing a waggon and a turnpike gate before him, he
watched the opportunity of the coach running near to a
high foot-path, to jump upon it, and was not at all hurt.
The coach was stopped by the turnpike gate with very
little the matter. Now had I been in my friend's' situa-
tion, I should have got over the roof into the guard's
seat, and descended thence to the ground.1

I was never run away with by coach horses but once,

1 Note the true way out of a difficulty. — EDITOR.

ON ACCIDENTS. 297

and then it might have been avoided. I was told it had
happened the last journey but one with the regular
coachman, and therefore I ought to have been more on
my guard. The leaders in that instance twisted the
pole-hook from the end of the pole, and went across two
fields with the bars rattling at their heels, but the coach
was kept on the road and did not go over. In my own
case things were not quite so bad ; but it being lamp-
light I imprudently got on the pitch of the hill before I
was aware of it, and then the merry rogues would not be
stopped to have the chain on. The road was very hard,
approaching to rock, so we went a rattling pace ; but as
the tackle was good, I continued to keep them straight,
and the coach being low, she kept her legs. Having a
blind wheeler, I was most afraid of an ugly grip at the
bottom of the hill, but all was right at last. Poor Davey
Jones — since killed on that ground, and then just re-
covered from a broken leg — sate behind me on the roof,
and I had an Irish gentleman on the box. Neither of
them spoke, but when we got into a trot, the Irishman
exclaimed, ' By the powers, but we had a fine escape for
it ! ' There were but eight horses to work the fourteen
miles, so that one would have thought they would have
been cured of running away.

By the Roman law, and a very salutary one, all
offences committed in drunkenness were visited with
twofold penalties. I am happy to have it in my power
to say, that, much as I have been amongst them, by day
and by night, it is upwards of fifteen years since I have
found a coachman drunk at his duty. The last I met
with was upon a night coach, and he was in a dreadful

298 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

state of intoxication. I was obliged to get a passenger
to hold him on his box whilst I drove his horses to Ox-
ford. Being by lamp-light I could not exactly time the
coach, and we were a quarter of an hour too soon ; so,
putting down the slides of the lamps, I pulled up under
a wall, and seeing he was getting sober, I addressed

my brother whip thus : ' Now B , you are a pretty

coachman, but this will not do. You have a large family,
and I fear but ill provided for ; let me advise you to
keep that right-hand down,1 or you'll kill somebody one
of these nights. Go in and kick your passengers, but
say nothing to them, and never let anyone see or hear

of you in this state again.' B thanked me for my

advice, though he did not take it, and in six weeks he
was killed from his box.

To return to accidents on the road. Several very
bad ones have happened (although perhaps not stated in
the papers, as, for obvious reasons, they are suppressed)
within my own knowledge in the last twelve months to
coaches descending hills — either by some part of the
harness giving way, or by the horses being overpowered
by their load. Although it is my intention to enter
more fully into this part of my subject before I conclude,
yet I think it right here to observe, that accidents of
this nature would be much less frequent than they are, if
coachmen would take the precaution of pulling up their
horses short when on the point of descending a hill.
This precaution is doubly useful in night work, because

1 Technical for keeping sober.

ON ACCIDENTS. 299

it may happen (as it often does1) that a pole-chain may
be unhooked, or a hame strap get loose, and not be
discernible by lamp or moon light. But this is not all.
Coachmen are not philosophers, but their daily occu-
pation tells them that force is proportional to velocity ;
and, therefore, when that velocity is weakened, the pro-
pelling impulse is weakened also ; or, in plainer English,
the pressure of the coach on the wheel horses is thereby
diminished. With wheel horses that will hold back at
all, I will be bound to take a loaded coach down most of
the hills we now meet with on our great roads, without a
drag-chain, provided I am allowed to pull up my horses
at the top, and let them take it quietly the first hundred
yards. This, it may be said, would be losing time, but
I deny the assertion. On the contrary, time would be
gained by it ; for as soon as I perceived I was master of
my coach, I should let her go, and by letting my horses
loose at the bottom, I could spring them into a gallop
and cheat them out of half the hill (if there were one) on
the opposite bank. This advantage, it must be recol-
lected, cannot be taken, if the chain is to be put on ; and
I have all the time in my favour which is required to
put that chain on, and to take it off.

I have before stated several objections to a locked
wheel, with a top-heavy load ; but I am indebted to that
experienced coachman, Mr. Charles Buxton, for the
following remark, communicated personally to me the
other day. ' If,' said he, ' you must lock a wheel with a

1 I could name two most alarming accidents of this nature within the last
two months.

300 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

heavy load, and upon a smooth hard road, let it be the
wheel next the ditch, or any other dangerous part. A
coach, in going down hill, always strikes on the side that
the wheel is not locked. I therefore think the coachman
should keep as much as he can on that side of the road
on which the wheel is locked ; as, by crossing the road,
if he meets, or has to pass, anything, his coach will not
strike ; and by holding that way, at any time, it will
prevent her overturning.' This is quite correct, as the
coach naturally strikes in a direct line from the perch-
bolt.

An accident that happened this spring to Mr. Henry
Wormwald corroborates what I have said of the neces-
sity of collecting horses, and checking the vis vivida of a
coach at the top of a sharp pitch or hill. He was taking
eleven of his friends to dine at Richmond, and in de-
scending the bridge at Kew, his coach got the better of
his horses, and away they went. Most of his passengers
being awake to their danger, quitted their places ; but
Sir Vincent Cotton, who was on the box with his friend,
was very roughly handled. The coach was pulled up
by some strong iron railings, on the spikes of which the
worthy Baronet was landed, and one of them ran some
way into his thigh. A little more and the main
artery would have been divided, when nothing could
have saved his life. A wheel horse and a leader were
killed — the pole having actually run through the body
of the latter. It was but a few days before this sad
accident happened, that I was of the same party with Mr.
Wormwald, and considered him a very pretty coachman.

ON ACCIDENTS. 301

He had a young team — not put together more than three
or four journeys — and I thought he handled them well.
They were very fine horses and cost large prices.

However necessary it may be to catch up wheel
horses, and to make them hold back their coach down a
hill, there is no part of the system in which a light finger
is more essential to safety. To see the manner in which
some persons calling themselves coachmen, pull and haul
at horses' mouths when descending a hill with a load, is
not only most annoying, but it considerably adds to the
danger by trying the strength of the tackle. This,
however, is not all. They are, perhaps, not aware that
all this force which they employ on their horses' mouths,
is so much force added to the pressure of the coach, and
in proportion to it is that pressure increased. The horses
at this time are drawing by their heads ! It is wonderful
to see with what little trouble to themselves and their
horses, some coachmen will take a loaded coach down a
hill. Taylor, on the Southampton ' Telegraph ' shines
here. My friend Mr. Ackers, and myself, were once
looking his coach over at Southampton, when the former
observed how small his pole chains were. ' Oh, sir,'
said Taylor, ' there is never any stress on our pole-
chains.' Taylor has some awkward hills to go down on
his ground, and those who wish to see execution must
travel with him.

There are, however, some horses which no man,
however clever, can make to hold a loaded coach down
a hill. Of this description is, first, the stiff-necked one
(as he is called, and which I have before described),

302 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

which turns his head away from his partner, and
shoulders the pole ; and secondly one which, when he
feels the weight pressing upon him, begins to canter or
jump — as coachmen term it ; when holding back, to any
effect, is out of the question. With such cattle as these,
the drag-chain must be had recourse to ; or when there
is the least reason to suspect the soundness of the
harness. Some coaches that load heavily in hilly coun-
tries take the following precaution, and I saw it adopted
last year with the North Devon coach, which was chang-
ing at Taunton, as I passed through the town — and
famously horsed it was : — A small round strap, suffi-
ciently strong for the purpose, passes under the throat
of the wheelers' collars, and the pole-chain is run
through it. Thus in case of the ring of the hames giving
way — which too often happens — the horse is not only
prevented from getting back on the splinter bar, which
is almost certain to make him kick, but he is enabled by
this strap, to keep his side of the coach in its place, and
thereby prevent an accident. It must be recollected that
these rings of the hames resist all the pressure of the
load ; and when it is considered that they are not half
the. substance of the pole-chain, and are as single links,
to the pole chains double one's, it is almost miraculous that
they do not oftener give way. The strap I am speak-
ing of is no annoyance to the horse, as it works in a part
of his collar that never touches him, and the trouble of
running the pole-chain through it is not worth speaking
of with a slow coach ; and these are the coaches that
most require such precautions, from the weight they

ON ACCIDENTS. 303

carry. Many broken limbs and fatal accidents would be
avoided by their more general adoption.

All general rules are commonly denominated laws :
thus the general rules which bodies observe in the com-
munication of motion, are called the laws of motion.
Now, without troubling you with the demonstrations of
mathematicians, I shall content myself with observing
that, by the laws of gravity, falling bodies, i.e. bodies
falling by their own weight, near the surface of the
earth, double the velocity of their fall in a second of
time, By this I mean that a stone which falls sixteen
feet in one second, may acquire the velocity of thirty-two
in another, and so on in arithmetical progression. This
is the simple effect of the power of gravity acting on the
stone, which shows that, excluding the consideration of
the air's resistance, the velocity of falling bodies is pro-
portionate to the time of their fall. Now, as the action
of gravity is continual, so by the doctrine of projects a
coach descending a hill must acquire fresh impulse every
yard she goes, and of course descends with accelerated
velocity. When all this is added to the well-known fact,
that as much force is required to put a body which is in
motion at rest, as there is to set a body which is at rest
into motion, the numerous accidents which happen to
coaches, in descending hills, are easily accounted for.
What I have now stated also confirms the necessity I
have insisted upon of checking the active force of a
coach before she begins to descend a steep hill ; and,
indeed, I may say, in some cases — as with bad holders —
before she comes upon a descent which can scarcely be

304 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

called a hill. There is a term which coachmen have for
this species of road. They call it ' pushing ground,' and
if the fall be a long one, it is astonishing how the force
of a loaded coach, upon the wheel-horses, is increased,
before she eets to the bottom of it ; and how difficult it
would be to pull her up short, if any accident should
happen — that is to say with wheelers of not the very
best stamp. I never saw but one coachman quite awake
to this — so much so, that he said if he once let his horses
exceed a very gentle trot, not exceeding five miles an
hour, he should never be able to pull them up until some
accident had happened. He was on a coach from
Manchester to Lancaster. He had a pair of wheelers
that had never been at wheel before, with a very heavy
load, and a fall of at least a mile before him, on a paved
road, which was of course all against him ; though the
fall was little more than an inclined plane. I was once
in a similar situation with this coachman ; but I had not
his foresight. I had got a pair of leaders at wheel which
were never in that place before, and to mend the matter,
they were put on their wrong sides. I had a fall of
about half a mile before me, with a turnpike gate at the
bottom of it ; and not having the precaution to check l
my coach in time, the accelerated force was such that
when I attempted to do so, I found the attempt was
vain. I had nothing for it but to whip my wheel-horses
up to the pole to keep the coach in the middle of the

1 I do not like to tell tales, but I could mention four bad accidents
within the last twelve months only, from the want of this single precaution.
The newspapers, indeed, have enumerated a few.

ON ACCIDENTS. 305

road, and to lay it into the leaders (not the best in the
world) right and left, to get them out of the way of the
coach. We fortunately cleared the gate, and all was
well ; but the risk was very great, and all from want of
a little precaution, and of weighing consequences before-
hand. Doubtless, some of my brother whips may say,
all this is slow ; time must be kept. My answer is : it is
all true, and time can be kept without sending people
headlong into eternity, for which they may not be exactly
prepared at so short a notice.1

Before I quit down-hill work, and the chapter of
accidents, I wish to recommend one caution to young
coachmen in descending a hill ; and this is, to take care
that his leaders do not draw on the end of the pole,
which many free ones will do when they find the coach
coming quickly after them. This not only increases the
pressure of the coach on the wheelers, but should either
of them stumble, it would necessarily assist in bringing
him down.

In one respect, the lives of passengers are made
more secure than they used to be, from the frequent
breaking of reins. Fast work, and consequently horses
in high condition, have obliged proprietors of coaches to
look to this most essential part of their duty ; and the
giving way of reins is now of rare occurrence. It was,
however, only last May twelve months that I was travel-
ling by a certain mail, and met with reins in a most
shameful state. It is true the horses were very quiet ;

1 The patent brake will assist you here in keeping time. — Ed.

X

306 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

but, in case of any accident happening to either of them,
a fresh one would of course have been put in his place ;
so, when I got off the box, I desired the horsekeeper to
give my compliments to his master, and tell him, that in
the course of a fortnight, I should be up the road again,
and if I found those reins were still at work, I should do
him the kindness to cut them to pieces before the coach
started from the door. If passengers were to act thus a
little oftener than they do, it would be advantageous
to the public. When reins give way, in certain situations,
an accident must be the consequence ; and I have heard
various opinions as to which is the most dangerous, the
breaking of those of leaders or wheelers. If in descending
a hill, more danger would attend the want of command
over wheel horses ; as they would, in all probability,
either run the leaders clown, or drive them out of the
road ; but in any other situation I should prefer having
hold of my leaders' heads, as by putting them straight,
I might keep the coach in the middle of the road, and so
prevent her upsetting. I know a guard to a very fast
coach which loads very heavily, who says, he does not
much mind how fast his coachmen drive him, provided
they will keep their horses in the middle of the road.

Reins seldom break in any parts but those which run
through the territs,1 the rings of the throat lash, or in the
billets ; and a little attention to these points would make
all safe, as far as this casualty is concerned. It is, in-
deed, an imperative duty in proprietors to look to these

1 Let your reins pass through two rounded bars placed across the centre of
the territ, and friction to your reins is reduced, neither can they turn. — Ed.

ON ACCIDENTS. 307

things themselves, and not to trust to their horsekeepers ;
and where accidents by their coaches can be traced to the
want of such attention, it is but just that their pockets
should suffer. Axletrees and springs do not often break
now ; and if proprietors choose to go to the expense,
their wheels are made secure against coming: off. Thus
it is pretty clear that accidents to coaches are at this time
chiefly to be attributed to these two causes : viz. — either
the want of proper skill and care in the servants
employed ; or inattention on the part of their masters —
the latter the less pardonable of the two.

I believe it is pretty well established in our courts of
law, that, for the consequences of any accident to a coach,
which, in the common course of things, could be avoided,
the proprietors of that coach pay. This is as it should
be. Gross negligence l the law holds to be nearly equal
to malicious design ; and its decision here, that no man
should suffer by the carelessness of another, is in con-
formity with the natural sentiments of mankind. Thus
it was by the Aquilian Law. The man who was not
able to manage his horse, and happened accidentally to
ride down his neighbour's slave, was obliged to make
good the damage.

Doubtless road coachmen are well aware that the law
looks pretty sharp after them, and that they are equally
answerable to their employers, as their masters are to
the public, for wilful neglect proved against them. I
only recollect one instance of an action brought by pro-

1 ' Lata culpa prope dolum est,' says Grotius.
x 2

3^8 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

prietors against a coachman, and that was by Messrs.
Ibberson, Waddell, & Co. of the Birmingham and
Shrewsbury ' Old Prince,' for overturning the said coach,
in coming out of the ' Angel' Inn yard at Oxford, on its
road to London. The man in question paid one hundred
guineas in part of the damages sustained, as it was
proved that, though an excellent coachman, he had
driven his horses at an unsafe pace round a corner,
which produced the accident. Coaches, at that period,
used to drive into inn yards, which was a very re-
prehensible practice.

Numerous accidents have happened to coaches from
want of proper attention to the security of the horses'
bridles. The throat lash — particularly of the wheelers —
should be as tight as can be allowed without injuring the
respiration, or there is always danger of the bridle being
pulled off. The improvement, however, lately made in
harness is some security against this, as far as relates to
the middle territs on the wheelers' pads, and the double,
or what is called ' the guide territ ' to their bridle heads,
through which the leaders' reins pass. The former serve
to make these reins run from the coachman's hand to the
leaders' mouths in very nearly a straight line, whereas
with old-fashioned harness there was a considerable
bearing inwards, which frequently was the means of
stripping a horse of his bridle. But this is not all. The
guide territ prevents the leaders' rein from cutting a
wheel horse's ear, which always makes him fretful, and
unpleasant to drive. Some of the old ones — Mr. Fagg for
instance — will not accede to the improvement of the

ON ACCIDENTS.

309

middle territ ; but allowances must be made for the
prejudices of an old coachmaster. If he were to drive
his horses a few stages, he would find the benefit, as they
are considerably lighter in hand — much power being lost
in the increased angle the rein describes, on the old
plan.

I was very near meeting with an accident so lately
as last summer by a wheel horse's bridle being pulled off
his head, by the operation of the leader's rein passing
through a single head-territ, and through the near pad-
territ of the wheeler — having no middle territ. I was
going to Croydon by a Reigate coach, and, having a seat
on the front-roof, had a full command of the horses,
which were rum ones, and the coachman, what we call
on the road, a ' fresh-catched one.' He had a very
raking grey mare before the bar on the off side, who
hung off from her partner, and a near wheeler that hung
away from the pole. The consequence of this was, that
by the strain on the inside coupling-rein — and the near
leading rein drawing at a considerable angle through the
single head-territ, and no middle-territ — I espied the
bridle in the act of slipping over the near wheeler's head
as soon as we began to descend Streatham Hill. 'Coach-
man,' said I, 'your bridle is coming off your near wheeler.'
— 'By the Lord, and so it is— please to jump down,' said
he to a gentleman on the box. The gentleman made
the attempt ; and instead of putting his foot on the tread
of the roller bolt, he put it on the wheel, and got an ugly
fall. I was more fortunate in getting down, and reached
the mare's head just as the bit was quitting her mouth ;

310 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

and as the winkers were hanging" down, she had begun
to mill the coach which she saw behind her. No doubt
we should have had a case, as we had a considerable fall
of road before us, and a regular miller to deal with.

When on the subject of bridles, I will mention one
other precaution. When a wheel horse has a trick of
throwing up his head, a nose martingal should be used,
as he greatly annoys the mouth of the leader that is
before him. I should also observe that the present
method of throat-lashing coach horses, makes it still
more necessary to pay attention to the firm state of the
bridles. In coach work no chance should be thrown
away. There is quite sufficient danger when every
possible precaution is taken.

NIGHT WORK.

Travelling by night, as well as driving at that time
for pleasure, appears to be of ancient date. Clodius way-
laid Milo in the night on the Appian Way, on his road
to Rome ; and the brave but unfortunate Lateranus, the
Roman Consul, drove his own chariot, for amusement, in
the dead of the night. Amongst the fancies of the poets,
I imagine I can trace a faint analogy betwixt their de-
scription of Night, and our modern night-work on the
road. The sun is represented in his chariot and four;
but the goddess Night is in her chariot and pair, as if
more fitting the hours of darkness ; and stars are made
to precede her course, having a distant resemblance to
our modern lamps.

NIGHT WORK. 311

When all things are considered, our night-work on
the road is performed in a manner that is deserving of
the highest praise. There are instances of mails — and
those from the remotest parts of the kingdom — not
losing more than a few hours in the long period of
twelve months. Strange also as it may appear, as far as
the observation of myself, and many more with whom I
have conversed on the subject, has led us, fewer accidents
(those in thick fogs excepted) happen to coaches in the
night than by day-light. This — if such be the case — is
to be attributed to two causes : first, the attention of a
night coachman is always on the alert ; and secondly, for
the greater part of the night the road is clear of any
other carriages but those which travel with lights. No-
thing, however, but the width and the excellent state of
our present roads could enable the coaches to travel at
the pace they now do in the night — some of the mails
going ten and eleven miles in the hour, which can
scarcely be considered safe, taking the vicissitudes of the
weather into account. I have driven a good deal by
lamp-light, and I have seen the time when, from driven
rain or snow, it has been as much as I could do to open
my eyes so as to see the road to the extent of the light
given by the lamps ; in which case a tight hand on the
horses is especially necessary. Although, by looking
perpendicularly from his box, or at the hedges, if there are
any, a coachman can always see if he is in the road, yet
if he cannot throw his eye some way before his leader's
heads, he is going, as it were, by guess or at random.
He will often get close to things he may meet on the

312 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

road before he is aware of them ; and therefore, as I
have said, it is essential that he should be wide-awake,
and have his horses well in hand.

When I first knew the road, more danger was to be
encountered by night coachmen than at the present time.
Awkward bridges1 were to be passed; quarters {i.e. ruts)
were to be changed ; and at the bottom of almost every
hill was a grip, or something of that sort, which was well
calculated to throw down a blind or clumsy horse. To
guard against these, night coachmen had their marks —
such as a tree, a gate, a haystack, a cottage, or any
other object by the roadside, which gave them notice of
the danger. All, however, is now plain sailing ; and as
I before mentioned, we hear of fewer accidents by night
than by day.

Unless when the moon is very bright, a dark night
and a narrow road are in favour of the safe travelline of
a coach by night. When it is what the coachmen term
' a clear dark ' — that is, quite dark and black — the lamps
give much better light than when the darkness approaches
to grey. In very wide roads — particularly where there
are no hedges to confine it — lamp-light is both weak and
deceiving. A narrow road, sufficiently wide of course
for carriages to pass with convenience — with no ditch on

1 The old way of doing business was certainly slow when compared with
the present ; but, from the bad state of cattle, and other appendages to
coaching, more danger attended it. The following anecdote is told of a night
coachman of the old school. He had just got his coach over a very awkward
bridge in a foggy night, when he thus addressed a passenger who was on the
box with him : ' Well over that, sir ; only one eye among us ! ' That, of
course, was his own.

LAMPS. 313

either side — is much the best for night-work. Moon-light
is often glimmering and doubtful, particularly when
clouds are passing rapidly over her broad face.

There is but one thing which baffles the skill and
intrepidity of our night coachmen, and that is — a heavy
fog. Lamps here are of no avail, as far as throwing light
forward ; and in the worst of cases, the only use that can
be made of them is, for a guard to hold one in his hand
behind the coach, by which he will be able to see whether
the horses are in the road or not. Lamps, however, are
always useful, in case of any accident happening ; and,
except in very clear moonlight, a night coach should
never travel without them.

LAMPS, ROADS, COACHES, AND THE USE OF THE

WHIP.

I have always been of opinion that still greater im-
provement than has hitherto been effected might be made
in our coach lamps. They are certainly better than when
I first knew the road ; for then the glasses used to get
black with smoke, and after a certain time they were of
little service. If what we read in history be true, we
have never possessed the art of making lamps equal to
those of former times ; neither, indeed, have we possessed
the materials. Perhaps my readers may not object to
going back a little into former ages, and hear what they
have to say on this enlightening subject.

Pausanias, in his history of Greece, informs us that

3H ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

before that people collected themselves into one city, the
statue of Minerva— supposed to have fallen from Heaven
— was deposited in a tower, and that an artist named
Callimachus made a lamp of gold for the goddess, which,
when filled with oil, burned day and night for the space
of one year. This, it appears, was owing to the wick
being made of Carpasian flax, which was u inconsumable
by- fire. Above the lamp was a brazen palm-tree, which,
rising to the roof of the building, dissipated the smoke.

Now, perhaps, there is nothing so very wonderful in
all this ; but that the ancients possessed the art of con-
structing lamps, which would for many ages produce a
splendid light, without a fresh supply, I think, from the
numerous testimonies, we cannot hesitate to believe.
The most celebrated of all is the one found in the tomb
of Pallas (son of Evander, who was killed by Turnus, as
Virgil relates in his tenth y£neid), which was discovered
near the city of Rome in the year 1401. Above the
head of the deceased warrior was this lamp found, which
neither wind nor water could extinguish ; and that it was
the real body of Pallas, the inscription on the tomb
showed. Had it not been broken by the over-curious, it
would doubtless have been burning now.

In the Appian Way also, at Rome, a lamp was
discovered in the sepulchre of Tullia, Cicero's daughter,
which had been burning fifteen hundred years ; but this
became extinct on the admission of external air. Other
lamps are mentioned by credible authors, apparently
made of the same lasting materials. One was found in
a town belonging to Padua, in Italy, in the year 1500,

LAMPS. 315

which had continued to shine upwards of fifteen hundred
years. This lamp was the workmanship of one Maximus
Olybius, who it appears, produced this wonderful light
by his profound skill in the chemical art. On the urn
which contained the lamp, as also the liquor by whose
virtue the brilliant light was produced, some Latin verses
were inscribed, which have been thus elegantly trans-
lated : —

Plunderers, forbear this gift to touch,

Tis awful Pluto's own !
A secret rare the world conceals,

To such as you unknown.

Olybius, in this slender vase,

The element has chain'd ;
Digested with laborious art,

From secret science gain'd.

With guardian care two copious urns

The costly juice confine,
Lest, through the ruins of decay,

The lamp should cease to shine.

It has been remarked, that the perpetuity of these
lamps was owing to the tenacity of the unctuous matter
with which the flame was united ; and being so propor-
tioned to the strength of the fire, that, like the moisture
and heat in animals, neither of them could conquer or
destroy the other. This art, however, is lost.

Curious as the history of this lamp appears, it is but
a gnat to swrallow when compared with the account
given of another by Apollonius in his treatise called

3'6 AXXALS OF THE ROAD.

IcrTopiai OavfjLao-LOLL, or 'Wonderful Histories.' The wicks
which were used in these lamps, he gives us to under-
stand upon the authority of another, were made of
threads drawn from a soft stone} and that there was no
end to their burning. This stone was found in quarries
in Cyprus and other places ; and why these quarries
ceased to yield it, wre learn from Plutarch almost puzzled
the Oracles to say. Garments, it seems, made from
threads spun from this stone, instead of being washed,
were purified by fire.

The wicks of our lamps are now made with cotton,
but flax was the article first used, and we find it spoken
of by the Prophet Isaiah. When predicting the tender-
ness of our Saviour's administration, he beautifully illus-
trates it by the well-known proverb : — ' The bruised reed
he shall not brenk, and the smoking flax he shall not
quench : ' — alluding, no doubt, to the light of a lamp
which, when first kindled, is soon put out. What was
done in those times, however, is of little practical use to
us in these matters ; but I hope to see some improve-
ment made in our road-lamps, as there has been in those
used in streets and rooms. Portable gas, it is said, is
about to be tried for the purpose.

Roads. — Although it appears to have been a capital
object of Roman policy to open a communication with
all the provinces of their extensive empire, by means
of those roads which are justly considered among the
noblest monuments of their wisdom and their power,

' Asbestos, no doubt. — Ed.

ROADS. 317

yet, to the savage tribes of America, the idea of facili-
tating communication with distant places does not seem
to have occurred. Even in civilised countries in Europe,
men appear to have advanced pretty far in refine-
ment before it became a regular object of their political
economy to form such roads as rendered mutual inter-
course convenient. The account of these roads by that
eloquent historian, Gibbon, is given in such easy and
pleasing language, that I am certain it will not be dis-
agreeable to my readers : —

' All these cities were connected with each other, and
with the capital, by the public highways, which issuing
from the Forum of Rome, traversed Italy, pervaded the
provinces, and were terminated only by the frontiers of
the empire. If we carefully trace the distance from the
Wall of Antoninus to Rome, and thence to Jerusalem, it
will be found that the great chain of communication,
from the north-west to the south-east point of the empire
was drawn out to the length of four thousand and eighty
Roman miles. The public roads were accurately
divided by mile-stones, and ran in a direct line from
one city to another, with very little respect for the
obstacles either of nature or private property. Moun-
tains were perforated, and bold arches were thrown over
the broadest and most rapid streams. The middle part
of the road, which was raised into a terrace commanding-
the adjacent country, consisted of several strata of sand,
gravel, and cement, and was paved with large stones, or,
in some places near the capital, with granite. Such was
the solid construction of the Roman highways, whose
firmness has not yielded to the effect of fifteen centuries !

318 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

They united the subjects of the most distant provinces by
an easy and familiar entercourse ; but their primary ob-
ject had been to facilitate the marches of the legions ;
nor was any country considered as completely subdued
till it had been rendered, in all its parts, pervious to the
arms and authority of the conqueror. The advantage of
receiving the earliest intelligence, and of conveying their
orders with celerity, induced the Emperors to establish,
throughout their extensive dominions, the regular institu-
tion of posts. Houses were everywhere erected at the
distance of five or six miles ; each of them was constantly
provided with forty horses ; and, by the help of these
relays, it was easy to travel a hundred miles a-day along
the Roman roads.'

Now, as it is my present object to form somewhat of
a comparison between ancient and modern travelling, it
is but right to observe, that the use of these post-horses,
as they may be called, was for the public service, and
could only be called upon by an Imperial order. Even
Pliny, who was a minister, and a favourite one too, offers
an apology, in one of his Epistles, for letting his wife
make use of post-horses on a very urgent occasion.
There is, however, in this historian's letters, more than
one mention of his travelling post. In that to Trajan,
when on his road to Bithynia, he informs his royal
master that he intends pursuing his journey, partly in
light vessels, and partly in post chaises ; but here
he was travelling on official business. In his letter to
Gallus, descriptive of his villa, he says — ' This is but
seventeen miles from Rome ; so that, having finished my

ROADS. 3 '9'

affairs in town, I can pass my evenings here, without
breaking in upon the business of the day. There are
two different ways to it ; if you go by that of Laurentum,
you must turn off at the fourteenth mile-stone ; if by
Ostia, at the eleventh. Both of them, are, in some parts,
sandy (no M'Adam in those days !), which makes it some-
what heavy and tedious if you travel in a carriage, but
easy and pleasant to those who ride on horseback.'

Roads may be called the veins and arteries of a
country, through which channels every improvement
circulates. All the aid of science has lately been
applied to the making of them ; and by the geological
maps published, those countries are pointed out from
which the best materials are to be derived. Nothing
however, beats the Bristol limestone, broken small, as
by the direction of Mr. M'Adam. I really consider this
gentleman as being, next to the late Doctor Jenner, the
greatest contributor to the welfare of mankind that this
country ever produced — that is to say in the civil depart-
ments of life. The opposition his system of breaking
the stones small met with in rural districts afforded a
striking instance of the tyranny of custom, and showed
what a task it is to combat with prejudice and error.
The labouring men persisted in saying that stones
broken so small would wear out immediately ; whereas
they were at length convinced that the smaller the
materials the more durable they were ; and that a
large stone in a road was certain to destroy it in two
separate ways : — first, it acts as a lever to the road, by
one end raising up the face of it when a wheel passes

320 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

over the other end of it ; and secondly, by presenting an
obstacle, which is to be surmounted, the wheel falls with
increased force from the top of that obstacle, and conse-
quently makes a hole in the road. If an iron hammer
were constantly to glide over an iron surface, neither of
them would feel the effect for a very long series of years ;
but only let there be an obstacle for the hammer to sur-
mount, and drop thence on the iron, the consequence
would very soon be destructive to both.

Although philosophers have been long since aware
that ice is formed by the spicules uniting by their own
angles, yet it remained for Mr. M'Adam to put to the
proof the fact of stones forming an equally firm surface
by the uniting of their angles. Such, however, is the
case : and where the material is of good quality, many
barn floors, on which corn is thrashed, are not so even
and so hard as some of our turnpike roads. One other
great advantage attends them. When once they bind,
there is no obstacle work for the wheels on level ground ;
neither is it necessary to round the roads in the middle,
from which form several accidents to coaches have arisen ;
and I do not think our night coaches could go the pace
they now do, with roads rounded in the centre.

The worst material we have for roads is gravel.
Upon gravel roads, to use the language of a coachman,
there is no life in the coach, but the wheels are always
crying out, and on level ground the horses never have a
slack trace. Stone is now brought from a great distance,
where water carriage is to be had, to many roads in the
neighbourhood of which crave! abounds.

ROADS. 321

After all, pavement is the best surface for a loaded
coach to run upon, as far as draught is concerned. Here
she is always alive, and the vis vivida is a great help to
her.1 Some years since I used to drive the Chester mail
a good deal over those paved roads out of Chester, and
always considered that the unicorn team was quite equal
to the draught. Paved roads, however, are dangerous
for fast work : — witness the number of axletrees of
coaches that are broken every year in Piccadilly, and
•that sink-hole of a town, Brentford. It would be a great
benefit to the public if all this pavement were broken up,
and the M'Adam system adopted in its place. I could now
name a dozen coach axletrees that have been snapped
in two in this short distance, within the last eighteen
months ; but the most extraordinary case was that of the
celebrated Cheltenham ' Magnet' Her axletree gave
way in Hammersmith, and the coachman went back to
his yard in the City for another coach. The axletree of
that coach was broken in the town of Brentford, on the
same day, and with the same passengers.

Mr. M 'Adam's system is about to be put to a proper test
in that great thoroughfare. Oxford Street, London. The
system, however, is to be improved upon, by having a good
coat of broken stone put on the top of new pavement. I
have always doubted the abolition of pavement in London
streets. In Eastern nations, where neither frost nor
snow prevails, almost any materials stand good in their

1 So long as the pavement is not of asphalte, where horses cannot keep
on their legs, and on getting down cannot get up again, Nimrod's statement
still holds good. — Ed.

Y

322 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

cities ; but in a London street, of much thoroughfare, I
have no idea of anything but pavement resisting the
effects of a six or eight weeks' frost and a heavy fall of
snow. If the M'Adam system, however, can be brought
to perfection on the improved plan I have just mentioned,
the advantage to the town of London will be great.

Looking into history we find that, though several
cities had paved streets previous to the Christian era,
those which are the ornament of Europe (Rome and
one or two others excepted), had not this advantage till
about the twelfth or thirteenth century. The Greek and
Roman authors speak more of paved highways than of
paved streets, though, no doubt, great expense was
incurred in paving the streets before the doors of rich
inhabitants of the countries about which they write.

That Thebes was paved, even in the time of Epami-
nondas, we collect from the circumstance of that great
general being condemned to the care of the streets, and, by
his good conduct, rendering that abject office an honour-
able one, and afterwards sought for as such. Whether
Jerusalem was paved I am at a loss to say, as mention is
only made in the Bible of the fore-court of the Temple ;
although in the Talmud it is stated that the streets were
swept every day, which implies some hard surface.
When Rome was paved does not, I believe, clearly
appear, though certainly not in the time of its kings. Livy
mentions that in the year of the city 584, a the streets
were paved from the Oxen-market to the Temple of
Venus, and around the seats of the magistrates in the
great Circus ; and, in the course of time, officers were

1 r..c. 170.

COACHES. 323

appointed for this express purpose. Streets paved with
lava, having deep ruts made by the wheels of carriages,
were found both at Herculaneum and Pompeii.

Of modern cities, I believe, the oldest pavement is
ascribed to Paris ; but that city was not paved till the
twelfth century, when this great improvement was made
by Philip II. Previous to this the filth of Paris was
proverbial. I know of no account that informs us when
the streets of London were first paved, but certainly not
till the twelfth century. In the year 1090, the church of
St. Mary-le-bow, in Cheapside, was unroofed by the
wind, and four beams, twenty-six feet in length, sank so
deep in the soft earth, that not more than four feet of
them were visible. As trade and wealth increased, pave-
ment gradually became extended. Holborn, according
to Anderson's ' History of Commerce,' was paved for the
first time by royal command, in 141 7. Other streets
were subsequently paved under Henry VIII.,1 and
Smithfield in 16 14. All historians agree that after the
use of pavement in cities, diseases became less frequent.

I must now return to the practical part of my subject.

Coaches. — I know not whether such may be the
taste of my readers, but, for my own part, I like now and
then to look back into former ages, and see how they

1 In the King's Order it was said: 'the highway named Holborn, in
London, was so deep and miry, that many perils and hazards were thereby
occasioned, as well to the King's carriages passing that way as to those of
his subjects. He therefore ordained two vessels, each of twenty tons burthen,
to be employed at his expense, for bringing stones for paving and mending
the same.' — Anderson's History of Commerce, vol. i. p. 244.

Y 2

324 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

managed matters in those days. The three last cen-
tnries have been, I believe, justly called the wonder-
working centuries ; and doubtless, within this period,
not only have many of those arts been restored which
were lost in the wreck of time, but many of the old ones
improved upon ; and others, of which the ancients had
not the most distant notion, have been invented and
perfected for the use and convenience of man. To
carriages, however, it was left to the present century to
put the finishing hand, and I really believe they have
arrived almost at perfection. Let us then look back a little
towards their origin, and trace them to the present day.

I am not going to the Chariot of the Sun, nor to
Moses's Principia, nor to Solomon's chariots, in which he
dealt so largely ; but I think I have read that in the
time of the 'Judges,' horses and war-chariots were made
use of among the Canaanites, though the Israelites had
none. Homer's heroes fight in them ; and this will do
for my purpose, which is to show that their use is of very
'early date. What their form was it requires better
information than I am master of to determine ; but
doubtless it was various.

If by the word coach we are to understand every kind
of covered carriage in which one can conveniently travel,
there is no doubt that some of them were known to the
ancients, and several of them admit of a construction
that places them in our list of carriages. The arcera,
of which mention is made in the Twelve Tables, was a
covered carriage, used by sick and infirm persons, and
• answers to our covered waggon or wain. This was

COACHES.

325

superseded by a still more easy one, called the lectica,
from its similarity to bed, or couch. Then comes the
carpcntum, or horse-litter, the form of which may be
seen on antique coins, where it is represented as a two^
wheeled car with an arched covering, and which was
sometimes hung with costly cloth. Still later, we find
the carrucce, first mentioned by Pliny, and coming nearer
in their appellation to our name for such vehicles ; but so
little is known of them, that it is, I believe, a matter of
conjecture as to the number of their wheels. They were,
however, carriages of state, ornamented with gold and
precious stones, and the Romans considered it an honour
to be carried in those which were very lofty. It is
worthy of observation, that in the Theodosian Code, the
use of them by civil and military officers of high rank,
was commanded as a mark of their exalted situation in
life. After this period covered carriages became the
common appendages of Roman magnificence, until the
sentiments which prevailed under the feudal system
again banished them. It being then considered essential
to the feudal lords, that their vassals should be always
ready to serve them on horseback, they discouraged the
use of carriages, as tending to make them indolent and
unfit for military service.

In more modern times, Hanover surpassed all other
cities in the number and splendour of its carriages. In
1 68 1, there were fifty gilded coaches, with six horses
in each, at the magnificent court of Duke Ernest
Augustus. In the history of France are many proofs
that at Paris, in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and great part

326 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

of the sixteenth centuries, the French monarchs rode
most commonly on horseback — the servants of the court,
arid the princesses, with the principal ladies, being chiefly
mounted on asses. Persons of the first rank often sat
on a horse behind their equerry, when the horse was led
by servants. When Louis, Duke of Orleans, brother
to Charles the Sixth, was assassinated, his two at-
tendants (ccuyers) were mounted on the same horse.
In the year 1534, Queen Eleanora and the princesses
rode on white horses at a sacred festival ; and the
historian Sauval informs us, that, in his time, there
remained several horse-blocks in Paris, which had been
ordered by the Parliament in 1599. Although about
this time there were only three coaches in Paris, yet
it appears that carriages were used in France as early as
1294, when Philip (the Fair) issued an ordinance sup-
pressing the use of them by the citizens' wives. Henry
the Fourth was assassinated in his coach ; but that he
had but one, appears by a letter which he wrote to a
friend, and which is preserved. ' I cannot wait upon
you to-day,' said his Majesty, ' because my wife is using
my coach.' From drawings preserved, however, which
give the figures of these carriages, it does not appear
that they were suspended on springs, or even by leather
straps, which we call braces. The coach in which Louis
the Fourteenth made his public entrance, was supposed to
be the first that was constructed on that principle.

Travelling in a carriage, however, became unfashion-
able when Richard the Second's Queen, the daughter of
the Emperor Charles the Fourth, showed the English

COACHES. 327

ladies how gracefully and conveniently she could ride on
a side-saddle. Coaches were, I believe, very little
known in England till about the year 1580, when, ac-
cording to Stow, they were introduced from Germany,
by Fitz-Allen, Earl of Arundel. According to Anderson,
when the English Ambassador came to Scotland in
1598, he had a coach with him: and Anderson places
the period when coaches began to get into common use
about 1605 ; yet, at the Restoration, Charles the Second
rode on horseback between his two brothers.

Coaches were seen, for the first time, in Spain in the
year 1546 ; and towards the end of the sixteenth century,
John of Finland, on his return from England, brought with
him to Sweden the first coach. Before that period, the
Swedish nobility carried their wives with them on horse-
back. In Russia, it appears there were elegant coaches
in the seventeenth century ; but to what nation we are to
ascribe the invention of close carriages or coaches, I am
not able to determine. Dr. Johnson informs us it is
Hungary. To the man who first placed them upon
springs, is the next greatest credit due.

I have no means of ascertaining when stage coaches
first began running in England, but I have read that, in
1662, there were but six ; and a pamphlet was written by
one John Crossel, of the Charter-house, to suppress them,
giving, as a reason, that they brought people to London
on trifling occasions, and their wives with them. Hackney
coaches were first established in London in 1625, when
there were only twenty, and in Paris, where they were
better known by the name of fiacres, about twenty-five

328 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

years afterwards. In ancient Rome carriages were let
out for hire, as mentioned by Suetonius, who calls them
rheda meritoria and mcritoria vehicula.

The use of coaches has given rise to a profession, or
trade, which in all large cities affords employment and
maintenance to an immense number of people.

Use of the Whip. — As far as my observation has
directed me, I am enabled to state that, generally speak-
ing, or, indeed, with few exceptions amongst men of cha-
racter, coachmen are attached to, and kind towards their
horses. It is, however, their interest to pursue such con-
duct if they wish to stand well in the opinion of their
employer ; for as a carpenter, says the old proverb, is
known by his chips, so is a coachman by his horses. A
horse does not cry out when he is hurt ; if he did, who
could punish him ?

There is not a tenth part of the punishment by the
whip administered to horses in coaches that was to be
seen when I first began to travel with them. At that
time, indeed, it was customary to see half-a-dozen 'points,'
as they are termed, or pieces of whipcord ready knotted,
hanging to a coachman's button-hole, most of which, if not
all, would be used before he had finished his day's work.
The causes of all this are obvious. The roads were bad,
which destroyed the vigour and courage of the horses,
and they were not of so good and well-bred a sort as
we now make use of in coaches. To these is to be
added, that in very many cases horses were absolutely
whipped into the necessity of being whipped ; or, in

USE OF THE WHIP. 3?g

plainer English, they were so accustomed to be urged on
by the driver that, after having been a year or two at
work, they would not exert their powers until called upon
to do so. At the time I am alluding to, no sooner was
a coachman on his box and had started his coach, than
he began to show off to his passengers, by a display of
neat strokes with his whip, whether his horses required
punishing or not. I am ready to admit that some of
these old hands exhibited great execution in this part of
their profession, and that, from the comparatively little
use that has been lately made of it, the expert manage-
ment of the whip is now rarely to be met with. Amongst
London coachmen I have most particularly noticed a
deficiency here. I could name a score who are excellent
performers as far as the finger goes, but when they come
to hit a near-side leader, the blow falls powerless, and
brings to one's mind the old joke of the flea biting the
lobster.

There are as many ways of whipping coach horses as
there are horses in the coach ; and, as there is a right and
a wrong way of doing most things, a young beginner may
observe the following directions : we will begin with the
wheel-horses. Before a coachman hits a wheel-horse, he
should twist his thong three times around the crop of his
whip, holding the crop at that moment somewhat horizon-
tally, by which means the thong will twist towards the
thin end of the crop, when the thong, being doubled, will
not exceed the length of a pair-horse thong, and in some
measure resembles it. Its being double renders it of
course more severe, by falling more heavily on the horse,

33o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

and by the two ends of the thong not being spread, but
close together at the time of the blow, it falls with in-
creased force. When the off-side wheeler is struck, the
coachman's right arm should be put out from his body, in
the same position in which he presents it to his tailor to
measure him for a coat, but the blow should proceed
entirely from the wrist. The part on which the horse
should be struck is about four inches behind his false
belly-band, or somewhere near the short rib on his right
side. The stinging part of the blow is then felt under
the belly, and, unless a horse is quite beaten, or of a
sulky and bad disposition, he seldom fails to answer it.
If he do not answer it here, he must be struck before the
belly-band, when the blow falls just behind the fore-arm,
on a part on which the skin is very thin. If a wheel-
horse shows symptoms of vice, such as a disposition to
kick, etc., or, in short, if he refuses to answer either
of the other calls upon his exertions, a blow with the
double thong on his ears generally brings him to his
senses. I very much dislike seeing a coach horse struck
over the ears — the parts being so very sensitive — and
nothing short of absolute necessity justifies it. I have,
however, seen the time, and often too, under the old
system, when nothing short of this severe punishment
would have got a coach home.

In hitting a near wheeler, the coachman brings his
right hand exactly opposite to his face, and, turning the
crop three turns around as before directed, he lets the
thong fall sharply across the horse's loins for three times
in succession, if he do not answer sooner, observing that,

USE OF THE WHIP. 331

after the third blow, he draws the thong obliquely across
the horse's back, by which means his arm returns to a
state of rest, and the crop falls gently across his reins,
just above his left hand — the crop pointing a little up-
wards, to prevent the thong getting under or touching
the near wheel-horse's tail. Should this be the case, if
he lowers his crop the thong will almost always get re-
leased, but should it not, he must let the thone loose, and
draw it out from the point. When it comes up from the
tail, let the coachman throw back his crop a little to his
right hand, and the point of the thong will fall across his
fingers, when he catches it, and puts it back into his
hand. It must be observed that in striking1 the near
wheel-horse the wrist only, as in the sword exercise, is at
work; the body must be quite at rest, and, after the whip
is brought to bear, the arm must be quiet also, until the
third blow is struck. Nothing is so slow and so bad as
to see a man all legs and wings on a coach-box. He
cannot sit too quiet and at his ease, and his right arm
should be as still as circumstances will admit.

There is only one other method of hitting a wheel-
horse, and that is called pointing him. This is done by
hitting him with the point of the thong, when loose, just
behind his shoulder, but it is not considered neat execu-
tion. If there should be a free leader before the bars, it
causes him to fret, and is, in my opinion, only to be had
recourse to in emergencies — as, for instance, in turning
round a corner or into a gateway, when a leader is to be
hit, and before the coachman can recover his thon<->\ a
wheel-horse should require whipping also.

332 AAXALS OF THE ROAD.

It is generally supposed that in whipping- a leader
neatness of execution is more especially displayed, and
such I take to be the case. It is, however, quite a mis-
taken notion to suppose that it is in the power of a coach-
man to punish a leader with the single, as he can a
wheel-horse with the double thoncr. I have heard of this
man who could cut a horse's leg off, and of that who
could lift him from the ground when before the bar, but
I have never seen the coachman who could mark a horse
with the point of his thong. No doubt, however, the
blow from the loose thong falls very sharp, as it falls on
a tender part — the inside of the thigh.

As the off-leader presents himself more fully to the
right hand of the coachman than his partner does, the
horse that is the less free of the two is generally put on
that side. There are but two ways of hitting an off-
leader : one, by letting the thong fall gently over his
neck or just behind his pad, when his driver only just
wishes to refresh his memory, and let him know that he
has a whip in his hand, and the other, when he wants to
hit him sharply, by striking him with the point of the
thong just under his bar. The hard hitters of the Old
School never conceived they had done the latter effectu-
ally unless they struck their horse twice at least, if not
three times, the last stroke always ending in a draw. As
this word drazu is peculiar to the lingo of the road, I
must explain to such as may not exactly comprehend it.
We will suppose a coachman to hit his off leader three
times. The two first blows are given, as it were, under-
handed ; that is to say, the hand is lowered, so as to

USE OF THE WHIP. 333

admit of the thong going- Mnc{er £/lc fiar t]le first two
strokes. When the third or last is given, the point of the
elbow is thrown outwards, so as to incline the thong in-
wards, which brings it up to the coachman's hand after
the stroke, it generally falling across his breast, but which
would not be the case were it not for the draw. Another
advantage also attends the draw. A thong so thrown
very seldom hangs in the bars, and nothing is more un-
coachmanlike than to hit a leader above his bar. A
horse's mouth should also always be felt before his coach-
man hits him.

Hitting a near-leader with neatness and effect is con-
sidered— as it certainly is — the most difficult part of the
use of the whip. There are two ways of doing it : one,
by two common strokes and the draw, and the other, by
a sort of back- handed stroke, which is a very neat one,
and sufficiently severe ; but it does not bring the thong-
so immediately up to the coachman's hand as the draw
stroke does. In the back-handed stroke, the wrist
describes an exact figure of eight, and the arm cannot be
kept, as before, quite still. In the other method of hit-
ting him, the coachman's arm is brought about opposite
his chin, the two first blows proceeding from the wrist
alone ; but in the third, or the draw, the hand descends,
the elbow is thrown outwards, and, by two jerks of the
arm, which it is impossible to describe on paper, the draw
is effected, and the thong comes, as before stated, across
the coachman's breast, so as to enable him to catch it
instantly.

There is one other way of hitting a leader, and

3U

ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

that is by what is called the chop. This is done by
throwing out the right arm rather forward, and with it, of
course, the thong, and then bringing it back sharply, with
the wrist inclined downwards. The thong falls severely
on the horse's thigh, and comes up to the hand again the
same as in the draw. This is a very useful blow in a
narrow, confined place, or when it is necessary to lose no
time before a leader is hit, and, when neatly done, has a
very workmanlike appearance. I should here observe
that this blow generally falls above the bar, particularly
if a horse is not at work at the time.

I have said that leaders should always be hit under
their bar. This cannot always be done; for if a horse
hangs back from his collar, his bar is so low that it may
be difficult to get under it. In this case, however, the
blow is made to tell smartly, as it is in the coachman's
power to throw his whip into the flank, which no doubt
is a very sensitive part. When a leader is well up to his
collar, he always can, and always should, be hit under
his bar. Should the point of the thong catch, or, as we
say on the road, ' get hanged,' in the bars or the pole-
pieces — neither of which will it do when properly drawn
after the last stroke, as the inclination of the hand in the
act of drawing it enables it to clear them — no violence
should be used to loose it, or a broken crop will be the con-
sequence. On the contrary, the arm should be thrown
forward, and the thong lightly moved, when in a minute
or two it will shake out. Should it be fast between the
eye of the main bar and the pole-hook, the leaders
should be eased a little, and it will get released. Some-

USE OF THE WHIP. 335

times, however, on a wet day, a thong will lap around
some of these things so fast as to make it necessary for
the guard, or some person, to get down to untie it. This
is technically called having a bite. The double thong
will also sometimes hitch in the ends of the wheelers'
traces, as also in the point of the false belly-band. To
obviate this, in gentlemen's harness, these parts are
always covered, or piped as we call it.

I shall dismiss the subject of whipping coach horses
with these few hints : — One of the best proofs of a
good coachman is to see his right arm still ; and although
for the safety of his coach, he ought to be able to punish
a horse when he requires punishment, yet he should, on
all accounts, be as sparing of it as he can. Horses may
be whipped till they become callous to whipping, and
therefore slow ; and, in the condition in which coach-horses
are now kept, a pound of Nottingham whipcord will last a
good coachman his life-time. The very act of throwing
the point of the thong over the leaders' head or let-
ting it fall on their backs, as a fisherman throws his fly
upon the stream, will set half the coach horses in
England, in these days, into a gallop.

One more caution, I find, I have overlooked : — A
free leader should not be hit in a short turn, or he may
break his bar. I hit one once, and he broke, not only
his bar but the pole-hook ; and I have seen the main
bar broken in this way. Neither should leaders be hit
in o-oino- over a small bridge which is much raised, or
when the pole points upwards ; their draught on the end
of it may snap it in the futchels.

336 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

The manufacture of four-horse whips is now arrived
at great perfection, and affords employment to many
hundred hands.

DIRECTIONS FOR DRIVING.

All practical arts are facilitated by rules ; and, after all,
what are rules for the acquirement of any art, but the
observations of others collected into a small compass ?
As far as my knowledge and experience have led me,
the following remarks may be found worthy of notice,
and I offer them for the benefit of the inexperienced.

He who has made a good beginning has half finished
his work,1 and this applies to driving coach horses.
Harness them well and they are much easier driven. It

is also with coach horses as it is with mankind the

physical strength is in the governed, therefore we must
humour them a little. When starting a coach, don't pull
at their heads, but feel their mouths lightly, or they may
bolt, throw themselves down, or break through their
harness. If old horses, and the stage commences with a
hill to go down, let them feel their legs for two hundred
yards before they are put to their usual pace. When in
a turn, point your leaders well — that is, take proper
ground for them to make the turn, and let your wheelers
follow them. As wheel-horses are always in a hurry to
make the turn, shoot them out to the contrary side, just

1 ' Dimidium, qui bene ccepit, habet.' — Ovid.

DIRECTIONS FOR DRIVING. 337

as you have pointed your leaders ; for example, if your
turn is to the right, catch up your near wheel rein, and
hit your off wheel-horse, ' and vice versa! This will
keep the head of your pole (which you should have your
eye upon) just between your leaders, and your wheelers
will follow as if they were running on a straight road.
This also secures you against danger, by clearing your
coach of posts, gutters, etc. No man can make a neat
turn with four horses, unless he shoots his wheelers at
the same time that he points his leaders. Never turn a
loaded coach short, even at a slow pace, for she is never
safe when there is not an even bearing on her transom
beds. If turned short, at a quick pace, she must go
over, and for this reason : by the laws of nature, all
bodies put in motion by one power will proceed in a
straight line, unless compelled to change their course by
some force impressed. Thus, a horse at full speed is
with difficulty turned to right or left ; if he turns sud-
denly, and of his own accord, he puts his rider's horse-
manship to the test. So it is with a coach. A sudden
turn to one side the road makes her sway towards the
other, and her centre of gravity is lost. The middle of the
road is the safest place for a loaded coach — except under
peculiar circumstances.

The powers of a horse in a fast coach can be measured
to a mile. He may be very good for eight or ten, but
very bad for twelve miles of ground ; with heavy loads, the
priming is soon taken out of most of them, and therefore
they must be looked to Wheel-horses have the hardest
place, as they are at work up hill and down ; nevertheless, if

z

338 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

favour be shown, it must be to the leaders. You may
drag a tired wheeler home ; but if a leader cuts it, you
are planted. Always put your free'st leader near side, as
you will have him better in hand than if he were on the
other. If a leader is weak, and cannot take his bar, tie
up the wheeler that follows him, and he will place him
by the side of his partner. Leaders should be fast
trotters for fast coaches. When they are galloping the
bars are never at rest, consequently much of the draught
is lost in the angles they describe.

Wind is almost as essential to a coach horse in fast work
as to a hunter. Many high blowers, however, keep their
time very well, with a little watching and nursing. If
you see them distressed, keep them off their collar, and
let them only carry their harness for a hundred yards
or so, and they will recover if their condition is good.
They work best as night horses ; but if driven in the
heat of the sun, they ought to work out of the throat lash.
Indeed, I would never throat lash a leader in very
hot weather if I could drive him without doing so.
Many horses will pull and be unpleasant in the throat
lash, but go temperately out of it. Some persons will
tell you that a coach horse cannot carry his head too
high, provided he is obedient to the hand, and I am of
this opinion. At all events a horse that goes with his
head dozvn has a mean appearance in harness. The
horse trnt carries his head higher than his partner should
have his coupling rein uppermost of the two.

Temper in harness horses is much to be regarded.
Some coachmen will armje that a horse should never

DIRECTIONS FOR DRIVING.

know his place — that is to say, he should go wheeler or
leader, and on both sides. I am of opinion, that if a
horse, working constant in a coach, fancies his place, he
should have it, and in nine cases in ten he will pay for
the indulgence. On the other hand, some horses care
not where they are put — working equally well, or ill, in
all places. Temper in a coachman is also to be regarded.
Indeed it is one of the essentials to a real good wckman.
This was the only drawback from the celebrated Jack
Hale ; and it is told ©f a great artist, not now at work,
that, having four rum ones to deal with, and unable to
make them work to please him, he threw his reins on the
footboard, and exclaimed — ' Now, d — n your eyes, divide
it among y 'ou, for I will be troubled with you no longer.'

There are several ways of dealing with horses' mouths
in harness ; a good deal of trouble is often requisite to
bring them to work pleasantly, and many are incurable.
Some horses will not face a curb chain at all, and the
bars of other horses' mouths, as also their chins, are so
hard, that it is difficult to make an impression upon
them ; the latter case is more prevalent of the two. It is
also difficult to handle a horse in coach harness, parti-
cularly a leader, whose mouth is very tender. A snaffle
is not safe, as in case of a drop, or a bolt, it has not
sufficient power to catch him up quickly, at that distance
from the driver's hand. For a gig horse it may occasion-
ally answer well. The usual plan then resorted to is, to
' cheek him,' as we call it ; that is, to put his coupling
rein to the cheek, instead of the bottom of the bit.
Should even this be severe for him, and he brings his

z 2

340 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

head too much towards his partner, his draught rein must
be put down to the bit, and that will bring him straight.
He should have liberty in his bearing rein, and his curb
chain should not be tight. A check rein, to a nose
martingal, is often of service here, as it keeps his head
steady, and makes him face his work. Generally speak-
ing, such horses work pleasanter out of the throat lash.

For horses with very hard mouths there are many
expedients : there is the bit with the double port, and I
have seen the Chiffhey bit used with very good effect.
Putting the curb chain in the mouth — over the tongue,
instead of under the chin — tells well with some horses,
as it prevents what is termed a dead mouth. Letting
out the head of the bridle in the middle of a stage has
also a good effect, as the bit and curb chain then take
hold of a fresh place. A check rein is sometimes put to
the middle link of a horse's curb chain, as it keeps the
bit in the middle of the mouth, and also keeps the
mouth alive.

There is one other move for a hard puller, and that
is all I am acquainted with. Put the bearing rein to the
top of the bit (not the cheek), and the coupling rein to
the lowest loop in the bit ; this creates a counter- action,
and not only makes the bit more severe, but keeps the
mouth in play. A hard puller is generally safest,1 and
more in place, before the bars than at wheel, and he will
pull less with a free partner than a slack one.

If it can be avoided, a coach horse should not be

1 With a good pair of wheel-horses, leaders are soon checked.

DIRECTIONS FOR DRIVING. 34'

broken in a fast coach, as there is no time in fast work to
try his temper and humour him. Many horses, by being
put at first into quick work, get a habit of cantering, and
never settle to trot well afterward.

If a coachman has got a kicking wheel-horse, he
should put him on the near side, as being less liable to
be touched by anything that may annoy him. If on the
off-side, throwing the reins on his back, or touching his
tail when getting anything out of the boot, may set him
on, and mischief may ensue. A kicking leader is safer
with a ring on the reins. Many bad accidents have
arisen from the want of this precaution, by a leader's
getting a rein under his tail. With first-rate hands, how-
ever, this is not so essential, as they generally have their
horses better in hand. In the Old School, it was most
useful.

With gentlemen's horses very fresh in condition, it
often happens that a wheeler kicks over his trace,
especially in a turn, and a case is sometimes the conse-
quence. A light hip-strap prevents this, as, when the
horse rises, it takes the trace up with him. In London
streets this is particularly useful, for when horses are
turning short, or in a crowd, they are so constantly having
their traces slack, and therefore more easily kicked over.
A friend of mine — a capital coachman too — had them all
four down at once in London, last year, owing to this
manoeuvre. The hip-strap looks slow, but it is safe with
a rum one.

The following directions were given me by a very
experienced coachman, and I thought them worth book-

342 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

^

ing. I undertook to take his coach a journey for him ;
but, although I knew it well, I had never driven the
road. ' That middle twelve miles of ground,' said he, ' is
a punisher, and you must mind what you are at with this
load. You have two hills to go down and three to go
up in the first seven miles. Don't stop to put the chain
on, as they'll hold well, and the tackle is good ; and don't
let them walk up the hills, for they are bad hands at that:
you will lose a horse's draught by it, and perhaps get
hung up on one of them. You must take fifty minutes
to do the first seven miles, and good work too. When
you get to the top of the last hill, get down and put
your near leader to the cheek, and they'll toddle you over
the last five miles in half an hour with all the pleasure
alive.'

Speaking to coach horses from the box is now con-
sidered slow, but it is not without its effect. I can
produce rather a curious instance. A certain coach
proprietor who horsed one of our mails had his horses
reported to the Post Office as being unable to keep time.
He was determined not to take them off the ground, so
sent for a coachman for the purpose of driving them.
Having been told that they had had their share of whip-
cord, the artist (and such he surely was) tried the follow-
ing expedient. About an hour before his time to go out
with his coach, he went into the stable where his horses
stood, and seizing a besom, he disengaged the handle o(
it. With this he belaboured each horse for at least five
minutes — speaking to him in a certain rough language at
the same time. Suffice it to say, these horses never lost

DIRECTIONS FOR DRIVING. 343

time afterwards ; and in the course of the week I was
eyewitness to their performing their twelve miles stage
— and a very severe one — quite within their time. The
moment they heard the voice that had made such an im-
pression on them in the stable, they mended their pace
almost to the top of it, and no doubt they had been
whipped to a stand-still by their former driver. In the
Old School the voice was much resorted to, and often
with good effect ; and I have been much amused with
hearing Dan Herbert (of whom I have before spoken)
speaking to his horses in a peculiar tone and language,
as much as to tell them what he should do to them if
they did not mend their pace.1

It is not every man who knows when a coach horse
is at work. He may keep a tight trace, and yet be
doing little. There is a certain increased tension of the
frame when a horse is taking weight with him, which is
the surest criterion to judge by, and which never escapes
a quick and experienced eye. What are called lobbing
goers take a greater weight with them than horses of
finer action — that is, provided they are equally close
workers. Heavy draught shortens the stride of horses,
after having been a few years at work.

A most material point in driving four horses is to keep
them well in hand — not merely as regards their work,
but also for the safety of the coach. The track which a

1 The classical reader will recollect the speeches of Antilochus and Mene-
laus to their horses, in the 23rd book of Homer's ' Iliad,' and the good effect
they had upon them in the race. Even a whistle is thought slow at the
present day by our first-raters.

344 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

coach makes in descending a hill will show whether horses
are properly held together or not. We are perpetually
hearing of accidents from horses taking fright and bolting
across the road ; but these only happen to clumsy fellows,
of which the list is considerable. Many coachmen in fast
work like to have their horses pull at them — considering
it safer — and therefore cheek their horses to enable
them to do so. I have seen Peer with all his horses to
the cheek, over what is considered his fastest stage-
from Hounslow to Egham — but it is a rare occurrence.

Although there are rules for passing and meeting
other carriages on the road, yet there are times when
they need not be strictly adhered to, and a little
mutual civility and accommodation between coachmen is
pleasing. Thus, if I have the hill in my favour — that is
to say, if I am going down, and a loaded coach is coming
up it at the same time — I ought, if I can do it with safety,
to give the hardest side of the road to the other coach.
Nothing can be lost by a little civility when it costs
nothing.

Before a coachman gets upon the box, he should walk
round his horses' heads and see that his curb chains and
coupling reins are right, and, above all things, that the
tongues of his billet buckles are secure in their holes.
Many bad accidents have arisen from the want of this
precaution ; and I set down no man as a scientific or
even a safe coachman who does not see to these things.

A graceful and at the same time a firm seat on his box
is a great set-off to a coachman. He should sit quite
straight towards his horses, with his legs well before him

DIRECTIONS FOR DRIVING. 345

and his knees nearly straight : with the exception of a
pliant motion of his loins, on any jolting of his coach, his
body should be quite at rest, and particularly so when
he hits a horse. In handling the ribbons also, as little
motion of the arm should be observed as the nature of
the act will admit ; the reins should be shifted, when
necessary, with almost as gentle a motion as if he were
sorting a hand of cards at whist, and apparently with as
little difficulty. To see a Johnny Raw (and I could name
a few — particularly two or three of these nondescripts,
half waggoners, half 'coachmen — who are to be seen coming
into Piccadilly with their coaches, one or two of them in
smockfrocks) clawing at his reins, and reaching down to
his knees for them, is not only most annoying to the
eye, but it is dangerous to go within some yards of him —
for, command over his horses he cannot have.

There is an excellent way of handling reins, not
generally adopted. This is, when you want to take a
pull at your horses, to open the fingers of the right hand,
and put the reins into them. Then pass the left hand,
with the fingers open in front of the right hand, and
receive the reins into it again. Thus you get extra power
over your team without disturbing their mouths.

I have often amused myself, in the progress of these
letters, with looking back into those times which every
man of taste delights to think of, and comparing the
pursuits of gentlemen sportsmen of ancient days with
those of the present period. Virgil's account, in his third
Georgic, of a race with chariots, is said to excel all other
descriptions ; but we must not look to this enchanting

346 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

poet for practical instructions in the art of driving. His
seat on the coach-box is all wrong. The

— illi instant verbere torto,
Et pruiii dant lor a,

may be translated ' stooping to the reins when they
whipped their horses ; ' which is quite at variance with
our practice. For the benefit of some of my brother
whips, I will give them Mr. Pitt's English of this fine
passage : —

Dost thou not see the car's contending train
Shoot from the goal, and pour along the plain ?
By varying fits each trembling charioteer,
Now flushed with hope, now pale with panting fear,
Plies the loud lash, hangs headlong o'er the reins,
Swift bounds the fervid axle o'er the plains :
Now deep in dust obscur'd the chariot flies,
Now mounts in air, and gains upon the skies.
The strife runs high, too fierce for dull delay,
The dusty volumes darken all the way.

Independently of appearances, a firm seat on a box is
very necessary for safety to a coachman and his pas-
sengers, or a little thing will displace him. I once was
by the side of a coachman on the box of a mail, when he
was chucked off merely by one of his hind wheels strik-
ing lightly against the post of a gateway, and a bad
accident was like to have been the consequence.

NIGHT WORK.

For an amateur, I have had my share of this part of
the profession. Many's the time and oft that I have

NIGHT WORK. 347

left a good bottle of wine and a blazing fire to get on a
coach-box in wet cold nights ; and used to say that, If
I were to go upon the road, I would be a night coachman
through a well inhabited country. For six months of
the year it is undoubtedly the pleasanter service, and I
never found any difference between taking my rest by
day or by night. It is, however, only calculated for a
man quite in the prime of his days, as all his energies are
wanted. He ought also to know his line of road well ;
for lamp-light, as I have before observed, is rather
treacherous — not only in fogs, but when horses are going
at a moderate pace (as up hill), with the wind just
behind them, when the steam arising from their bodies
follows them, and necessarily obstructs the light. I was
once lost owing to this circumstance, and obliged to pull
up my coach, but no accident arose. Accidents often
occur from coachmen neglecting to light their lamps in
going into a town. It is constantly happening that,
when a coach comes up the road in the morning, there
may be no obstruction in the streets ; but rubbish from
buildings, stones, or many other things, may be thrown
out by the time she comes down again at night. It was
from this cause that Mr. Dennis had his thigh broken'
the winter before last in the town of Brentford on his
Bath coach.

The following rules are worth observing by night
coachmen : — Take your rest regularly, or you will be
sure to become drowsy, if you do not go to sleep ; keep
yourself sober ; keep a tight hand on your horses, your
eye well forward, and get out of the way of carts and

34« ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

waggons in time ; keep the middle of the road, and be
sure to keep time. Chains and springs on the bars are
good things for night work, as they prevent the leaders'
traces coming- off.

COACH HORSES.

The style of coach horse, both for gentleman's work
and on the road, is strangely altered since I first knew
what a coach horse was, and it is altered much for the
better. One part of the system, however, remains as it
was; and that is, although little horses, well bred, are now
the fashion, yet large horses still continue in heavy work,
and it must be so. Horses draw by their weight, and
not by the force of their muscles ; although doubtless well-
furnished muscles assist the application of that weight.
The hinder feet form the fulcrum of the lever by which
this weight acts against a load, and the power exerted is
always proportioned to the length of the lever — the
weight remaining the same. Large animals, therefore,
draw more than small ones, though they may have less
muscular power, and are unable to carry weight so well.
The force of muscles only tends to make a horse carry
forward his centre of gravity ; or, in plainer English, it
is the weight of the animal which produces the draught,
and the play and force of its muscles serve to continue it.
What chance would four little horses have before the
' Old Salisbury ' coach with four ton of luggage about her ?
Muscular force -would not be able to oppose such a weight
for a continuance.

COACH HORSES. 349

To show the effect of pace, it may not be amiss to
mention, that by calculations made as to the mean strength
of animals, a horse drawing horizontally and at the rate
of two miles and a half in an hour, can work for eight
hours in succession against the resistance of 200 lbs.1
Quadruplicate that pace, and he would find an eighth
part of the time a very sufficient dose. Thus I contend
that we can pretty nearly measure a horse's power in
harness.

Good hind legs and well-spread gaskins are very
essential points in a coach horse — the weight or force
applied proceeding from the fulcrum formed by the
hinder feet. Thus we see a waggon horse, when brought
to a dead pull, will sometimes not touch the ground at
all with his fore feet. I have a cart mare that will
prove this assertion any day in the year ; and to show
that horses draw by their weight, it frequently has hap-
pened that a horse has been unable to draw a cart out of
a slouo-h, until a sack of corn thrown on his back, when
he has had little difficulty in doing it. Exclusive of the
weight, this has in some degree the effect of increasing
the tension of the system, and tension is necessary to
motion. Thus it is, as I have before stated, that what
we call lobbing goers take more weight with them than
horses of better action.

There is another reason why little horses are unfit
for heavy work. They will seldom walk and draw at
the same time ; for if they walk, they are catching at their

1 One hundred and sixty pounds is the assumed power of a horse at
plough.

35° ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

collars, and doing but little. I think I never saw four
little horses walk in a coach and take anything like an
even share of draught ; and I have served an appren-
ticeship in hilly countries.

There is no labour that I know of so hard as that of
coach horses in fast work ; for which reason it is bad
policy to purchase infirm horses, though many proprie-
tors persevere in doing so. Generally speaking, they are
out of their work half their time, and are certain to die
in their owner's debt. Blind horses are less objectionable
as the roads now are. A blind horse that will go
up to his bit is much pleasanter and safer to drive
than one that can see, but who hangs away from his
work. Blind horses, however, work better in the nij/ht,
hot weather not agreeing with them. To enjoy one's
health ' like a blind horse in winter,' is a proverb.

I do not call a horse a coach horse unless he has
good legs and feet. As a wheel horse he is never to be
depended upon down hill if he has not sound limbs
under him. However good in his nature, he cannot
resist it without something to resist it with, and if he is
weak in his joints he must be powerless. To this is to
be attributed numerous accidents to coaches— many of
which the public know nothing about. If horses are
purchased with good legs and feet, there is no reason
why, in the fastest work, they should not last many
years, if shod with care and well looked after. There
are two horses in the Southampton ' Telegraph ' that
have been more than ten years in that coach ; and a grey

COACH HORSES. 351

gelding, the property of Mr. Lawrence, of Shrewsbury,
earned 1,440/. in the Holyhead mail.

Coach horses live very high — in short, as the term is,
their belly is the measure ; but I do not find that (barring
contagious diseases), where their owners are good judges
of condition, they are much subject to disease. Were
hunters to eat the quantity of corn coach horses do, their
constitutions would not stand it, because their work
is not regular. A coach horse is certain to sweat four
days out of five, which keeps his blood pure, and almost
does away with the necessity for physic, of which, in
general, they have but a small portion — perhaps not so
much as they should have. I like to see flesh on a
coach horse, if it be good flesh. It is quite a mistaken
notion that fat horses cannot go fast in harness ; they are
more powerful in draught than thin horses ; and having
nothing but themselves to carry, the flesh does not injure
their legs, as in riding.

A horse in a fast coach ought not to work more than
four days without rest, as he becomes leg weary, and
wears out the sooner. His system also becomes too
highly excited. A horse a mile, reckoning only one side
of the ground, is about the mark. Thus we will say that
ten horses shall work the coach up and down a ten-mile
stage, which gives eight at work and two lying at rest.
Every horse then rests the fifth day. In slow, heavy
work, coach horses will do their ground every day in the
year, barring accidents or illness, but ' it is the pace that
kills.'

The average ot coaching stock in slow work may be

352 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

from six to seven years, provided they are fresh and
firm on their legs when brought in. In fast coaches
from three to four, or scarcely, I fear, so much. After a
hot summer, coach horses are subject to disease, and the
month of October is the worst in the year, in conse-
quence of its being their moulting season, when all others
are supposed to be affected.

Hunters in the hunting season would not eat the
quantity of corn that coach horses do ; for they are
feverish after their work, which is not the case with
the latter, because they become accustomed to this almost
daily excitement. In this respect they resemble our-
selves. If a man drinks nothing for a week, and then
takes a bottle of port wine, he is feverish, but if he
drinks the bottle of wine for six days in succession, he
feels no such symptoms on the seventh. Some coach-
masters are fond of giving their horses all manger meat,
but this will not do, as it often produces indigestion and
disease. A certain portion of long hay is necessary for a
horse's health.

It is a most fortunate circumstance for breeders of
horses that it does not require a perfectly formed horse
to make a good coach horse. Indeed, some of those
which the London dealers and job masters sell for such
high prices for gentleman's work, are perfect brutes when
taken out of harness, and such as no man would ride for
the worth of them. The sine qua uoii, the strong and
lengthy shoulder, with well-bent hind legs, are not essen-
tials here, and a good head and tail, with a little high
action, are all that they stand in need of. A very stiff-

COACH HORSES. 353

shouldered horse, however, seldom makes even a good
coach horse, and I think that is rather a prominent
feature in English horseflesh.

Coach horses are subject to many accidents, and to
one of a peculiar nature — namely, to broken legs, and
broken in the act of trotting on fair ground. Fractures
in the foot in draught horses and others are common,
and La Fosse mentions several of them ; but fractures of
the leg in trotting over level ground are, as I have
before said, peculiar to coach horses, and doubtless caused
by over-tension of the limb in the act of drawing. I have
heard of scores, but never witnessed more than one of
these distressing accidents, and this was about two years
ago, in the Southampton ' Telegraph '- — a rather singular
coincidence attending it. I was sitting by the side of
Peer, who was driving, and we were arrived within half
a mile of Bagshot. ' The old mare (near leader) goes
lame this morning,' said I. — 'Why, yes,' replied Peer,
' her corns want dressing.' — ' Did you ever break a
horse's leg ? ' resumed I. — ' Twice,' answered Peer.
These words were scarcely out of our mouths, when I
exclaimed — ' Pull up ! the job is done — the old mare has
broken her leg.' Peer doubted it, but on getting down
to her, found it was broken just above the fetlock joint.
We took her out of the coach, left her on the road, and
in half an hour she was put out of her pain. At the
time the accident happened we were not going more than
nine miles an hour, on a road as smooth as a barn floor.
A coach horse's leg is in most danger of being broken,

A A

354 AXNALS OF THE ROAD.

if, with a heavy load behind him, he snatches at his
collar in a turn of the road.

Coach horses are also subject to a kind of vertigo,
or what we call on the road the megrims. Doubtless
this is caused by a temporary pressure on the brain, and
may therefore be termed one degree of apoplexy.
This is often brought on by running in the face of a hot
sun, and for this reason horses subject to the megrims
ought to work at night. The attack comes on very
suddenly, though a snatching motion of the head some-
times precedes it. If not immediately pulled up, the
horse drops. Coach horses thus afflicted should have
attention paid to the state of their bowels, and partake
often of antimonial alteratives. Worms are said to
produce the megrims. What we call on the road ' a
megrim horse,' is always dangerous, as, when seized with
the complaint, he rolls away from his partner, and of
course takes him with him. It is dangerous, therefore,
to drive such a horse near to a precipice or ditch.

Hot weather has a singular effect on many horses,
and it often happens that what we call a good winter
horse is frequently a very indifferent one in the summer.
Mr. Richard Lawrence's reasons why coach horses, in
the hot months, should be wetted all over with cold
water before they commence their stage, are founded I
dare say on what he terms ' pure philosophical principles,'
but I fear he will never establish his doctrine. Indeed, he
does not appear to entertain such a notion, though I see
no good reason why. Appearances are trifles when put

YOUNG HORSES. 355

in the scale against animal suffering, and particularly
when we consider what this suffering animal is.

Coach horses are subject to symptoms known by the
appellation of ' the lick,' which greatly injures their
condition. They lick each others' skins, and gnaw their
halters into pieces. This proceeds from a heated state
of the stomach, produced by the excitement of high feed
and work, and is removed by alterative medicines or
physic.

YOUNG HORSES.

My experience on the coach-box having been chiefly
confined to the public road work, I have not had suffi-
cient practice in the difficult art of breaking in young
horses, to enable me to dictate to anyone on that subject ;
and having been, in the course of these letters, particularly
cautious in offering any opinions not sanctioned by
practical observation and knowledge of the matter in
question, I determined to apply for information on this
part of my subject to a quarter whence I was certain to
receive that which could be depended upon. I wrote to
that well-known and experienced coachman, Mr. Charles
Buxton, who has been so long famed for excelling in this
branch of coachmanship, and who was kind enough to
write me the following excellent letter, which, I am
certain, in his zeal for the profession, he will excuse my
giving to the public :

' I have sent you the mode that I have adopted in

A A 2

356 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

putting young horses in harness. I think it best to put
a young one in, the first time, with only one other, which
should be steady, good-collared, and quick. A great
deal of room should be given him in his head, and he
should be driven at the cheek of an easy bit, with his
pole-piece rather slack. He should be started very
quietly, making the old horse take collar first, and the
first time should be in a wide space of ground, so that he
may be allowed to start any way he pleases without being-
checked. If he is alarmed and inclined to bounce, he
should not be held hard, and on no account stopped, for,
if he is, he may not like to start again, particularly if high
mettled. The old horse will hold him, so as to prevent
his running far.

' If a young horse is shy of his collar, he should not
be pressed to it at first, as he may take a dislike to it, and
become a jibber by so doing. I have driven horses many
times before they have touched collar, and, by not forcing
them, they have taken to it of their own accord, and
turned out very good horses. When a young coach
horse is stopped, it should be done very gradually, allow-
ing at least ten yards to do it in ; for, if it is attempted to
stop him short, he will resist, and then he is drawing by
his head. For the same reason horses should not beheld
hard in going down hill, which is a fault most coachmen
have. They forget the great weight they are throwing
upon them, as they are then drawing by their heads.

' When a young horse is first put to a coach, he
should be very carefully turned to the pole, so as to pre-
vent its touching his hind quarter, which might make him

YOUNG HORSES. 357

kick. When he has been driven long enough to make
him steady, he should be taken up in his bearing rein,
and put down lower on his bit, and driven in a wide
circle, or figure of eight, keeping the inner horse well up
to his collar and bit. In his breaking he should be fre-
quently stopped, but not held after he is pulled up, as, if
he is high mettled, it will make him restless, and, if dull,
he will not require it. Great care should be taken at
starting to make the old horse begin first if the young one
is inclined to be hot, as it will prevent him plunging. If
he is heavy, and not ready to start when the command is
given, he should be whipped till he answers it.

' Horses should have some notice given them to
move, as well as soldiers — a click, or a whistle, or any-
thing the driver pleases ; and I think it is a good plan to
use horses to stop by notice, as it may prevent accident ;
and I have found hallooing to a horse when he kicks
have great effect. When you have such a one to deal
with, he ought to be taken very short in his pole-piece,
and gagged ; and when he begins to kick he should be
whipped on the ears, which punishment, in my opinion,
should never be inflicted but for vice. It is a brutal
practice, which I wish all would deprecate.

' When horses are put for the first time into coaches,
the same mode of giving them their heads ought to be
adopted. Throat lashing a young horse, either wheeler
or leader, shows great folly and want of judgment ; but I
shall not say anything to you on coaching, as you know
more of it than I do, but I will add this remark, which is,
that I have driven many horses that would go perfectly

353 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

quiet as leaders, that would never go at the wheel ; the
reason is, they will not bear being confined by the pole-
piece. I forgot to mention that all horses ought to have
their sides frequently changed, particularly young ones.'

To the excellent advice contained in this letter I have
only one remark to add, and that applies to the road, and
not to gentlemen's work. Coach proprietors — at least all
those who do business on a large scale — should be in
possession of a break, into which they should put their
young horses previous to their going into regular work.
The practice of putting a young horse never accustomed
to harness into a coach laden with passengers — the lives of
whom, putting their individual selves out of the question,
may be most valuable to their families and their country
— is most reprehensible, and one that, when injury is sus-
tained by it, should be visited by the severest penalties
the law can inflict. Were any further proof wanting to
show the hicrh estimation in which the lives and limbs
of His Majesty's subjects are held by the law of the land,
it would be found in that statute which pardons homi-
cide if committed (' se defendendo ') in order to preserve
them.

WAGES AND COACHMEN.

Wages of coachmen are very trifling, certainly not
sufficient to find the superior order of them in clothes.
Those of the highest attainments in their art do not get
more than eighteen shillings or a pound a week ; but the

WAGES AND COACHMEN. 359

regular stipend is twelve or fourteen, and from this, in
some yards, eighteen pence a week is deducted for duty.
Mail coachmen on the lower ground (that is, not out of
London) receive sixteen shillings a week wages. Al-
though the certain income of a coachman appears small,
yet those on swell coaches that load well, with two a day,
and consequently only one home, make a very comfort-
able livelihood — say from two to four hundred pounds a
year. Perhaps I could name a few who top the latter
sum, but not many. Those who drive into and out of
London are allowed the privilege of not entering on the
way-bill the passengers they may take up on the first
stage off the stones. These they call their short shillings.
When I first knew the road, shouldering was very
much the fashion — ten times more than it is now. Per-
haps there may be some of my readers who do not know
what shouldering is ; if so, I am obliged to tell them
that it is only a genteel term for robbery : it is putting
into our own pockets what ought to go into another
person's. A little of it however, is generally winked at
by coachmasters — particularly on the night coaches ; for
without it, tongue and buckle would not always meet —
or, in other words, guard and coachman would some-
times be starved. There are other terms for a shoulder-
stick, such as, a short one, or a fish ; and another, which
is particularly expressive, and was made use of a short
time since to a friend of mine. ' You have no luggage,
I believe, Sir,' said coachee to him, after having brought
him about fifty miles. — ' I have none,' said my friend. —
' Then if you please you shall get down at the turnpike,

360 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

as I mean to swallow you! This, however, was not
altogether without an excuse, as it happened on a
Company's coach, where coachmen are not allowed to
kick, and there is no way ol getting an odd shilling on a
cold night. This bubble, however, I believe has burst,
and there are not many Company's coaches now to be
seen.

To prove how much a thing of course shouldering
was fifteen years ago, I have only to relate the following
fact. I was on the box of one coach, when we met another.
' That is little Billy Burton,' said I, ' is it not ? ' — ' Yes,
d — n him,' said my brother whip ; ' I wish he would
break his neck, for the little d — d rascal will spoil our
road.' — ' What has he been doing ?' I asked. — ' What! '
replied coachee ; ' why, he books every shilling ; our road
will be worth nothing in a short time.' — ' A new-fashioned
sort of little d — d rascal,' said I.

Some coachmen remain for many years on the same
coach : though, generally speaking, I think they are too
much given to change. Long service denotes good
conduct, good conduct ensures respect, and respect
generally carries with it corresponding advantages. For
instance — if a man is in the habit of travelling by any
particular coach, and finds the same coachman always
upon it, he begins to consider him in the light of an old
acquaintance, and instead of one shilling naturally gives
him two. Not only this ; but if he wants a little business
done up the road, he can depend on his old acquaintance,
and pays him accordingly. Chester Billy has been above
thirty years on his coach. Dan Herbert was much

WAGES AND COACHMEN. 361

longer on the Chester mail ; and Jack Peer's father has
just retired from the box of the York ' Express,' after a
service of thirty-seven years on the same coach, though
under different names. She was once called the
' Nelson,' and before that the ' Paul Jones.'

I do not think a coachman ought to drive more than
seventy miles a day ; and if this is done at two starts, it
is in his favour. The attrition, or wearing of the human
frame, under daily excitement, must tend to produce pre-
mature old age, and consequently shorten life ; and this
excitement must be considerable when a man drives a
fast coach eighty or a hundred miles a day without a
stop — particularly if his coach is strongly opposed.

The expenses of coachmen on the road are heavy, and
should be taken into consideration by passengers. They
have their horse-keepers to tip every week, or they will
not do their best for them ; and the wear and tear of
their clothes is a heavy tax on their pockets. They have,
I fear, sometimes to complain of the illiberality of
passengers ; but, as far as my observation has led me, they
are satisfied with one shilling under, and two shillings for
anything above thirty miles ; and indeed they are well
entitled to that sum — more especially when we recollect
that they are subject to empty coaches. No great diffe-
rence is now made in respectable coaches between the
fees of in and outside passengers, as it so often happens
that the latter are the better able to pay. I could name
a man — an old friend of mine — who never gave a coach-
man or guard less than a pound at a time ; but of course
he is an enthusiast in our line, and can afford it well.

362 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

No man, however, should give him less than a shilling,
and as much above that sum as he likes. If he often
travels the same road, his money is not ill-bestowed.

I have never travelled with what are called Company's
coaches, on which neither coachman nor guard is allowed
to kick ; nor do I suppose I ever shall. An old
acquaintance of mine, however, was amusing me the other
day by a description of a ride he had upon one of them.
When he came to the end of his journey, he told the
coachman to fetch him his luggage, and his answer was
very much like ' Fetch it yourself, and be d — d.' From
what we have lately seen and heard, we may venture to
pronounce the word ' Company ' but another name for
trickery and humbug ; and I hope never to see it applied
to so respectable a profession as the road.

I confess I do like to see a good coachman at work,
but there are not many to be met with, and, strange as
it may appear, they are becoming, in proportion to their
number, more scarce every year. This, however, is easily
accounted for. From the sound and fine state of the
roads, the condition of the cattle, and the improved
method of performing road work, coach horses are now
so above their work that the assistance of their driver
is seldom called for. In another half-century, I much
fear the art will be lost. When I am in town I some-
times take a peep at the mails coining up to the Gloucester
Coffeehouse,1 and such a set of spoons are, I should hope,
difficult to find. They are all legs and wings ; not one

1 This stood on the site of the St. James' Hotel, Piccadilly. — Ed.

WAGES AND COACHMEN. 363

of them has his horses in hand, and they sit on their
boxes as if they were sitting on something else.

As Black Will says, I suppose I am ' beginning to
see danger ; ' for I confess I am now not comfortable on
a fast coach with an awkward fellow on the box, though
I care not what pace I go with a workman. I would
almost as soon be with Mr. Mytton x in a gig — and that
is no joke. I had a turn with him three years ago for
the last time. We had only four hours to go forty-three
miles in, or lose our dinners; and twenty minutes allowed
for lunch. We did it ; but not without breaking a shaft,
knocking down a bullock, having one horse on his head,
and jumping, gig and all, over a good fence.

I have already observed that, as a set-off against
want of skill, we have now one good security, and that is,
we seldom hear of a coachman drunk. This was too
much the case in the Old School, and the effect of hard
living on the night coachmen operated strongly against
them, and produced numerous accidents. Some ten or a
dozen years ago, it was common to hear such a dialogue
as the following amongst members of this fraternity : —
' A bad job that, last night, with the heavy " Gloucester " !
how was it ? ' — ' Why, some says Joe was asleep.' — ' Was
he lushy ?' — ' No, he warn't drunk, nor he warn't sober ;
the liquor was a dying in him like'

There is a certain weakness in human nature which
is ever desirous of looking into futurity. The coachmen
of the Old School were somewhat touched with the same

1 The eccentric 'Jack' Mytton of Halston, Salop. See his Life by
Nimrod. — Ed.

364 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

credulity that operated so powerfully on the heroes of
antiquity ; and, like them, they had their divinations and
omens of good and evil. The single magpie foreboded
some untoward occurrence, and a hare running across
the road before their horses was little less than the floor-
ing of their coach. In my early days also they played a
game with their passengers which is now never heard of.
It was a game of chance — the various things they met
on the road constituting the chances. Thus, a horse was
so much, a man so much, an ass so much, and so on
through almost all the animal creation ; but an old
woman, sacrificing (sub dio) to the powers of digestion,
won the game at once.

From the speed of coaches, and the improved breed
and condition of coach horses, coachmen are now obliged to
be careful to whom they trust the reins; for which reason
we do not see so many amateurs at work as we formerly
did. It is indeed highly culpable in a coachman to trust
the lives of the passengers and his master's property to
anyone whom he has not good reason to know is safe.
A man, however, may be a very safe and good coachman
with horses he knows, and still a very unsafe one on
some roads with those to which he is quite a stranger.

The following is not a very bad way of doing busi-
ness, and was communicated to me by a brother amateur :
' When travelling with a coachman I do not know,' said
he, ' I always adopt the following plan — that is, if I wish
to work. In the first place I never got upon a coach-box
yet with anything like half-pay about me ; such as a
black handkerchief around my neck, or in blue pantaloons,

WAGES AMD CO ACHAT EN. 365

neither do I think I ever shall. I always take care to
have a good deal of the drag about me. A neat pair of
boots, and knee-caps, if cold weather ; a good drab
surtout — if not a poodle ; a benjamin or two about the
coach, and little of the spot about the neck. For the first
mile I always observe a strict silence, unless broken by
coachee ; but at this time he generally runs mute. He
is perhaps but just awake, or is considering about his
way-bill — reckoning his passengers, thinking what he has
to do on the road ; and, if a workman, looking over his
team to see if all is right. Leave him alone for a short
time, and when his mind is at ease he will look you over
as you sit beside him. He will begin with your boots,
proceeding upwards to the crown of your hat ; and if he
likes you, and you make a remark or two that pleases
him, and shows you to be a judge of the art, the first
time he stops, he will say — ' Now, sir, have you got yottr
driving gloves on ? would you like to take 'em.' I am
here alluding to country work, and not to the roads near
London.

Homer appoints a Providence over brutes, and
doubtless they are, on every consideration, well worth
our protection ; but we have lately been pestered with
some lessons on humanity too expansive for general
practice, or for the limits of our species. This has been
very properly denominated humbug, and is, I think,
losing ground. As far, however, as humanity towards
horses is connected with my present subject, I recommend
the practice of it most strongly to coachmen ; and that
the recommendation may have the greater weight, I will

366 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

give it in language more forcible than my own — in the
words of that accomplished orator the late Lord Erskine:
' We are too apt,' said his Lordship, ' to consider
animals under the domination of man in no view but
that of property ; whereas the dominion granted to us
over the animal world is not confided to us absolutely.
It is a dominion in trust ; and we should never forget
that the animal over which we exercise our power has all
the organs which render it susceptible of pleasure and of
pain. It sees, it hears, it smells, it tastes, it feels with
acuteness. How mercifully then ought we to exercise
the dominion entrusted to our care!' Coachmasters as
well as coachmen should bear this in mind ; and indeed
it concerns us all — for 'how can we expect mercy, having
none ?'

The Benevolent Club was established upwards of
twenty- five years since, and was presented on its forma-
tion with a handsome donation by the B. D. C. Club.
It is entirely confined to guards and coachmen, but none
are admitted after the age of thirty. Each member con-
tributes one guinea per quarter to the fund, from which,
in case of accident or illness preventing his being at
work, he receives two guineas per week for any period
not exceeding one year, and a guinea a week for life if
totally disabled.

GUARDS.

Guards on the mail coaches are of course necessary
appendages to the establishment ; and, that they may be

GUARDS. 367

equal to their duty, only go moderate distances — say
from sixty to eighty miles, when they are relieved by
others. Those on the long stages are in my opinion
imposed upon by their masters, and, by being made to
do more than they are equal to, are half their time
asleep. Many of them are two nights up for one in bed ;
therefore this is only the natural consequence. They go
from London to Exeter, and Shrewsbury, and other
places equally distant, without stopping more than three-
quarters of an hour on the road, which in bad weather is
a punisher. Indeed I have often felt sorry for guards ;
and, much as I may be awake to these matters, have
been at a loss to know how they always contrive to live.
Starting with perhaps an almost empty coach, on a frosty
night, to go one hundred and sixty miles, is a hard
undertaking of itself ; but to drink against four coachmen
(and they must take their allowance), on that length of
ground, with nothing to pay for it, is one still harder. I
have, however, a word to say about these said guards,
which may not be ill-timed — I mean those on stage-
coaches.

Were I travelling by a stage-coach, to which there
was one of those appendages called guards, and were
I of that description of passenger so well defined by Mr.
Liston in the play — who tells him, ' Remember it is
hoptionaV — I might also say to him when he kicked me
for my money, what have I to remember you for ? How-
ever, to render the matter plainer, let us reduce this to a
dialogue, and picture to ourselves a passenger at supper

368 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

on a pair of hot roasted fowls — being their second ap-
pearance in that character — when in walks the guard : —

Guard — ' Please to remember the guard, sir.'

Passenger — ' Certainly (Mr. Sheridan would have
said), for it is impossible to forget that phiz of yours.
But what have I to remember you for ? '

Guard — ' For taking care of your luggage, sir.'

Passenger — ' I wanted no one to take care of my
luggage ; the proprietors, your masters, are answerable
for that'

Guard — ' I know they are, sir ; but I hope you will
remember me for taking care of yourself!

Passenger — ' Oh, that is another part of speech ; but
pray what had you to protect me with ? '

Guard — ' My horn, sir.'

Passenger — ' What ! have you no fire-arms ? '

Guard — ' No, sir.'

Passenger — ' Then on what pretensions do you call
yourself a guard ? You resemble what we call in Latin
lucus a nan lucendo!

Here then ends the dialogue ; but, joking apart, this
matter of the guard without fire-arms is nothing less
than a tax on the public, which the public have no right
to pay. Let the guard be provided with proper fire-
arms, and he might be equally entitled with the coach-
man to his fee ; but without them he is a mere nonentity,
and very often deprives the coachman (who does some-
thing for his money) of his clue ; for some passengers do
not like being kicked twice in the same place. The
attack made on the Hereford 'Champion' coach last

GUARDS. 369

winter, near West Wycombe, must have opened people's
eyes a little on this subject. Had the guard of the
' Champion ' been provided with a blunderbuss, there
might have been by this time one villain less on the
earth. It is but justice, however, to conclude this part
of my subject by observing, that among guards to light
coaches, as well as to mails, are to be found many men
of great integrity, who are entrusted with bankers' parcels
and other valuables to a large amount, and who well
understand the duties of their situation ; and there are
others who scarcely know how to open a coach door.
There are scabby sheep, however, in all flocks.

An active guard to a coach is certainly a security to
passengers, and I will mention an instance or two. I
was once driving a mail by lamplight, when I saw a man
running just before the leaders' heads. Fearful of run-
ning over him, I pulled up and hailed him. It proved to
be the guard. He told me that the night before they
had like to have had a serious accident (the leaders were
knocked down) by two donkeys being in that part of the
road with their legs tied, and consequently could not get
out of the way of the coach. I was driving another mail
in the night for a coachman who was ill. I came upon a
waesron in the middle of the road, and no driver to be
seen. I pulled up my coach, and called to the guard to
blow his horn ; but before the words were out of my
mouth he was in the waggon, and, taking the whip out of
the waggoner's hand, awoke him from his sleep with an
unmerciful hiding, and then jumped upon his coach, whip
and all. This example was wanting, for the same thing

B B

370 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

had been occurring several times on the road, and it was
less pardonable because the offenders knew the mails
were comino-.

During the hard winter of 1814 a guard distinguished
himself much on the Holyhead road. There were four-
teen mails due in Dublin, and the merchants and others
were much distressed about their acceptances. The road
was open as far as Corwen in Merionethshire, but the
passes through the Carnarvonshire mountains were
blocked up. By extraordinary exertions, undertaken
chiefly at his own suggestion, this man got the coach,
filled with bags, to Holyhead, for which he received the
thanks of the Post Office, accompanied by a reward.
Several others that I could name have run great risk of
their lives in getting through flooded roads, and I know
of two instances where their lives were sacrificed to their
duty.

Before I quit this subject, I wish to observe that I am
far from being of opinion that guards are useless appen-
dages to stage-coaches. On the contrary, I think no
coach, running a long distance, and in the night, should
be without one, but they should be provided with fire-
arms, kept in good repair. Setting aside the idea of
highway robber)', it is impossible that coachmen in the
night can be answerable for the luggage on their coach ;
nor, indeed, can the guard, if he is asleep, and asleep he
must be a great part of his time, if worked in the way I
have stated. He should not go more than one hundred
miles, and he should be paid by the proprietors.

Fond as I am of the road, I will never miss an op-

GUARDS. 37l

portunity of exposing imposition, and of standing up for
the rights of the public. I was travelling a short time
since by a coach, when, at the second change out of
London, a guard presented himself to be paid by the
passengers. On another occasion a postilion who drove
the leaders attempted to kick. My answer to him was
this : ' Tell your master he does not want six horses, but
he wants a coachman who can drive the other four ! There
is another species of imposition, which should be reso-
lutely opposed by the public, and this is, the demand of
twopence on a parcel before it is delivered from the
office, after the carriage is paid. For instance, I book a
parcel in London, and pay twopence booking : another
twopence is demanded in many offices, besides the
amount of the carriage. This is a fraud on the public,
for where can the parcel be deposited, but in the office of
the town it is directed to be left at ?

I have another word to say respecting mail guards.
It is nothing less than an imposition on the public that
these servants ol the Crown should be paid by persons
travelling in mail-coaches. Government allows them
nothing more than a mere pittance of a few shillings a
week, leaving the public to pay them; whereas the public
have nothing to do with them. That they carry lire-arms
is true, but it is to protect the letter-bags — the property
which Government is paid to protect — that they would use
these fire-arms, and not on account of the passengers.
In short, strictly speaking, they have nothing to do with
the passengers nor their luggage, their sole duty being to
protect the mail. I therefore contend that, as Govern-

B B 2

372 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

merit is paid for carrying the mails, Government, and not
the public, should pay the persons who protect them.

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN.

On looking back into history it is quite evident that
the rise and declension of ancient states were strongly
characterised by the varying manners of their people, and
it can be little doubted that the present commanding atti-
tude which England holds in the scale of empires is to
be attributed to her manly diversions. Amongst these the
management of horses, and particularly of horses in har-
ness, has ever held a conspicuous place in all civilised
countries. In my first letter on the subject of the road I
touched a little on these matters, and how they were
managed in days of yore ; but the interest taken by all
descriptions of persons in these enlightened times in the
actions and sports of the celebrated characters of anti-
quity induces me to return to them, particularly as some
of them are intimately connected with the present part of
my subject. I am further encouraged to do this by a
knowledge of the fact that these letters are read by great
numbers of road coachmen, man)7 of whom may not have
dipped into this part of the history of the ancient world,
but which, in some measure, so much resembles the pro-
ceedings of the present day.

Strange as it may appear to us at this great distance
of time, it is a settled point that the greatest honour that
could be bestowed upon a man for a period of more than

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 373

one thousand years, was a sprig of the wild olive tree
entwined round his brow for having gained a victory at
the Olympic games ; or in other words, for having proved
himself either the best coachman, or as having produced
the best horsed chariot of his day. This sprig of olive,
however, was accompanied by other most extravagant
marks of distinction ; and the wearer of it was not satis-
fied with statues, inscriptions, altars, and sacrifices during
his life-time, but the immortal Pindar (or some other
great poet) was called upon to hand him down to pos-
terity in an ode, for which, no doubt, he was made to
' pay the piper ' well. Every gentleman has cast his eye
over those songs of triumph,1 which are unfortunately the
only existing evidence of his sublime muse. One of his
commentators gives him no small praise for raising so
many beauties from such trivial hints, and for kindling so
great a flame with so little fuel ; whilst another says
it is vain to imitate him ! Let us sportsmen, however,
remember, that the fire of Pindar's muse, which warmed
and dazzled Greece, shone forth in honour of coachmen,
jockeys, runners, wrestlers, and prize-fighters.

I am not going to bore my readers with a long dis-
sertation on this subject, but shall merely describe to
some of my brother whips, who may not have known
them before, the origin and end of these pastimes ; and I
will do so in as few words as I can.

The Olympic games were established God knows

1 It is supposed that in the banqueting room at Olympia, in which the
winners were entertained, these complimentary odes were sung in their
presence by a chorus, accompanied by instrumental music.

374 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

when ; but certainly revived as a religious ceremony
about nine hundred years before Christ. One Iphitus,
an Elean, has generally the credit of their revival ; and
they were cehbrated near to a city called Olympia, in the
territory of Elis, in Greece — a country celebrated for
good horses. Horse and chariot racing were considered
their noblest sports, although many other tastes might be
gratified. Olympia was their Newmarket ; they had
their Jockey Club, their judges, and clerks of the course,
as at the present day ; and there were chariot races
for horses of various ages. The utmost regularity pre-
vailed, and — though Greeks — it is asserted that they
were not up to a cross.

My object here may easily be seen, to form some
little comparison between past and present days ; and at
the same time, if it be necessary, to offer an apology — or,
rather, a precedent — for the gentlemen dragsmen of our
own age. The ancient Greeks were said to hold out the
torch of knowledge, and their taste in the arts was a
guide to the world. What they did, therefore, could not
have been considered bad taste ; and when we remember
that the celebration of these their favourite pastimes out-
lived the laws, the customs, the liberty, and, I believe, the
religion of their country, we know not how to condemn
them. Let us, however, produce a few memorable in-
stances of the veneration (amounting, indeed, almost to
insanity) in which the worthies of antiquity held a victory
at the Olympic games.

It is related of Philip, King of Macedonia, that in one
day he heard of three great events — a signal victory, the

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 375

birth of his son Alexander and a winning race at
Olympia ; but which of the three qave him most plea-
sure, his biographer, Plutarch, does not determine. That
great general Alcibiades brought no less than seven
chariots at one time to the post, and won the equestrian
crown, being the only Grecian who ever won three
prizes at one time in chariot races, and for which he
was immortalised by the poet Euripides. If we are to
credit history, he entertained all the spectators at his
own expense, which act of profuseness the cautious
Nicias — perhaps a little jealous of his growing popularity
— strongly urges in his well-known harangue against the
Sicilian expedition, of which Alcibiades was to be the
leader. Nicias feared the object he had in view was to
repair the injury his fortune sustained by these acts of
extravagance ; but the gallant general presently soothed
the fears of his audience by giving them to understand
that this imposing display of his magnificence to the
people was intended to reflect an honour on their coun-
try and on their name. The renowned Darius adorned
his chariots with sculptures in gold and silver of the
victories he had gained on the Olympic course; and Nero
neglected his empire to win the sprig of olive. It would
be endless, however, to enumerate similar instances, for
history would afford hundreds of them.1 I shall only
proceed to a short description of the scene of action, as

1 Perhaps the following is amongst the most powerful. In an oration
composed by Isocrates, to be spoken in a court of justice, he founded his
proof of the nobility of the family of Alcibiades, on the statement that, by
his mother's Side, he was descended from Alcmaeon, the first Athenian that
had icon a prize in the chariot race at the Olympic games /

376 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

handed down to us. Before, however, I conclude this
part of my subject, I must observe that the honours of
victory were not confined to the owners of the chariots
and horses, for the latter (the horses) were crowned
amidst the applause of the spectators, and in one instance,
where forty chariots were broken in one race, the vic-
torious one was preserved in the Temple of Apollo.
Having stated this havoc among the competitors, it is
no wonder that Ovid should say that the honour of
contending for this prize was almost equal to the winning
of it.

There was one Pausanias, a Cappadocian, who wrote a
history of Greece about two hundred years after the birth
of Christ, who, though he might have been a little more
explicit (but perhaps his taste did not lie that way), has
given us a pretty just idea of a race with chariots over
the Olympic course, and poets of all nations have immor-
talised the sport. Sophocles modestly sings of half a
score starting at the same time, but Pindar avails himself
ot his licence, and makes the number forty. When we
consider that the length ' of the course they ran upon did
not exceed an English mile, and that the charioteers had
to make twenty-two turnings round the two pillars —
generally, we may conclude, at full speed — it may well be
imagined what dreadful accidents must have happened.
Nothing, indeed, but the form of the chariot used could
have ensured safety to anyone. By the representations we

1 The Circus Maximus at Rome, in which the Romans exhibited thei.
chariot races, was an oval building of one thousand eight hundred feet in
length, and four hundred in breadth.

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GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 377

meet with on ancient coins they appear to have been very
low, and only on two wheels, somewhat resembling our
curricle. Springs, of course, they had none, and, as there
was no seat for the coachman, great part of his skill con-
sisted in being able to preserve his balance and keep his
legs. Although Nero once made his appearance at the
Olympic games in a chariot drawn by ten horses, which
he attempted to drive himself, four horses driven abreast
was the usual team, as I stated before.

Those who wish to be better acquainted with the
nature and importance of this species of diversion will find
it described in the 23rd ' Iliad' of Homer, the 'Thebais'
of Statius, Sophocles, and numerous other authors, both
in verse and prose. According to Pausanias, however —
and here we are more entitled to the truth — the method
of starting was as follows. The chariots entered the
course according to order previously settled by lot, and
then drew up in a line. They started at a signal given,
and to him who passed the pillar at the top of the course
twelve times, and the one at the bottom ten times, in
the neatest manner, without touching it or overturning
his chariot, to him was the reward given.1 As, how-
ever, it was the aim of everyone who started to make
for this pillar as to a centre, we can easily imagine the
confusion there must have been in forty, or even twenty,
chariots, all rushing to one given point, amidst the
clanging of the trumpets. No one was debarred
driving his own chariot, and kings were often seen con-
tending against kings. The following is the translation

1 This is what we call feather-edging.

378 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

of a description of a chariot-race from the ' Electra ' of
Sophocles.

When, on the second day, in order next
Came on the contest of the rapid car.
As o'er the Phocian plain the orient sun
Shot his impurpled beams, the Pythic course
Orestes enter'd, circled with a troop
Of charioteers, his bold antagonists.

One from Achaia came ; from Sparta one ;
Two from the Libyan shores ; well practised each
To rule the whirling car : with these, the fifth,
Orestes, vaunting his Thessalian mares :
^Etolia sent a sixth, with youthful steeds
In native gold arrayed : the next in rank
From fair Magnesia sprang : of Thrace the eighth
His snow-white coursers from Thesprotia drove :
From heaven-built Athens the ninth hero came :
A huge Boeotian the tenth chariot filled.

These, when the judges of the games by lot
Had fixed their order, and arranged their cars,
All, at the trumpet's signal, all at once
Burst from the barrier, all together cheer'd
Their fiery steeds, and shook the floating reins.
Soon with the din of rattling cars was fill'd
The sounding Hippodrome, and clouds of dust
Ascending tainted the fresh breath of morn.

Now mix'd, and press'd together, on they drove,
Nor spared the smarting lash ; impatient each
To clear his chariot, and outstrip the throng
Of clashing axles, and short blowing steeds,
They panted on each other's necks, and threw
On each contiguous yoke the milky foam.

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 379

But to the pillar as he nearer drew,
Orestes, reining in the nearmost steed,
While in a larger scope, with loosen'd reins,
And lash'd up to their speed, the others flew,
Turn'd swift around the goal his grazing wheel.

As yet erect, upon their whirling orbs

Roll'd every chariot, till the hard-mouthed steeds

That drew the Thracian car, unmaster'd broke

With violence away, and turning short

(When o'er the Hippodrome, with winged speed,

They had completed now the seventh career,)

Dash'd their wild foreheads 'gainst the Libyan car.

From this one luckless chance a train of ills

Succeeding, rudely on each other fell

Horses and charioteers, and soon was fill'd

With wrecks of shatter'd cars the Phocian plain.

This seen, the Athenian, with consummate art,

His course obliquely veer'd, and steering wide

With steady rein, the wild commotion pass'd

Of tumbling chariots and tumultuous steeds.

Next, and, though last, yet full of confidence

And hopes of victory, Orestes came ;

But when he saw of his antagonists

Him only now remaining, to his mares

Anxious he rais'd his stimulating voice.

And now with equal fronts abreast they drove,

Now with alternate momentary pride

Beyond each other push'd their stretching steeds.

Erect Orestes, and erect his car
Through all the number'd courses now had stood
But luckless in the last, as round the goal
The wheeling courser turn'd, the hither rein
Imprudent he relax'd, and on the stone

38o ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

The shatter' d axle dashing, from the wheels
Fell headlong, hamper' d In the tangling reins.
The frighted mares flew divers o'er the course.

*fc.j

The throng'd assembly, when they saw the Chief
Hurl'd from his chariot, with compassion mov'd,
His youth deplored ; deplored him, glorious late
For mighty deeds, now doom'd to mighty woes,
Now dragg'd along the dust, his feet in air :
Till hasting to his aid, and scarce at length
The frantic mares restraining, from the reins
The charioteers releas'd him, and convey'd
With wounds and gore disfigure!, to his friends.
The just Amphictyons on the Athenian steeds
The Delphic laurel solemnly eon f err d.

In a political view — seldom lost sight of by a Greek
— these games were productive of no slight advantages.
Being sacred to Jupiter, they protected the inhabitants of
Elis against all the calamities of war, and the fear of
displeasing the god of thunder kept all parties honest.
Greece was also generally short of horses, and nothing-
was so likely to encourage the breed of them as the
emulation raised amongst the different states — to say
nothing of the great circulation of money, for the olive
crown was purchased at a great expense. By these
games being celebrated at the beginning of every fifth
year, they settled their chronology and dates ; and a great
part of the traditional history of their country rests upon
their base, for they lasted one thousand years. As for
the reward, as I have before stated, it was nothing to
the pocket, but the honour was above all price, as the
following anecdote will show. A Spartan was offered a

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 381

large sum to sell a battle at the Olympic games. Having
beaten his man with much difficulty, he was asked what
he should gain by such a victory ? ' I shall have the
honour,' said he, ' of being posted before my king in
battle.' As a further proof of the moral effect of these
contentions for honour, it is stated in history, that when
the conquerors returned to their native cities, they made
their entry through a breach in the walls — by which was
implied, that cities inhabited by such men had no need
of walls. This, however, was not all. Greece was always
fond of pomp and splendour and the celebration of these
games suited their taste. The feasts of victory — the
entertainments to the winners — were magnificent in the
extreme, and the city of Olympia (the Newmarket of the
day) was enriched by all the works of art.
The poet says,

How few the joys that every bosom shares !

and thus it has been with gentleman coachmanship. In
Greece it was the amusement of kings, whose fame was
immortalised by the first poets of the heroic age. ' The
candidate there,' says Gibbon, ' might pursue the foot-
steps of Diomede and Menelaus, and conduct his own
horses in the rapid career. His fame was chanted in
lyric strains more durable than monuments of brass or
marble ; but a senator of Rome, or even a citizen, con-
scious of his dignity, would have blushed to expose his
person or his horses in a Roman circus. Here the reins
were abandoned to servile hands ; and if the profits of a
favourite charioteer sometimes exceeded those of an advo-

382 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

cate, they were considered as the effects of popular ex-
travagance and the high wages of a disgraceful pro-
fession.' I do not attempt to controvert such authority,
but it must be borne in mind that the interest taken in
the charioteers of Rome shook the very foundations of
the government.

I now take leave of ancient coachmanship. To every
one Nature has given some distinguishing bias, and the
greater part of mankind are endowed with a capacity for
performing, in some degree, in the different exercises
invented for our amusement ; but of this fact my readers
may be assured, that, until within the last hundred years \
the world never seize a coachman ! As to those of whom
I have just been speaking, the form of their carriages,
and the mode of putting their horses to them, were ob-
stacles to anything like fine execution in the art ; and,
although brave and daring in the race, we may be assured
they were clumsy fellows with the ribbons, and as to
their use of the whip, it was only adapted to pig-driving.

There is one requisite to make a man, whether gentle
or simple, a coachman, and that is what we call on the
road, ' hands! 1 By these I do not mean two mutton-
fists that would be very useful to a coalheaver, but a
certain faculty of touch — regulated doubtless by the
nervous influence — the possession or the non-possession
of which makes the difference between a £ood and a bad
horseman. No man with a hard, heavy hand can ever

1 Among the ancients, the proper motion of the hands was considered
a great accomplishment — so much so, that an awkward disposition of them
would have spoiled the noblest piece of oratory at Athens and Rome.

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 383

make a jockey or a coachman ; and if an amateur, the

sooner he gives up the attempt the better. Neither will

a nervous man ever excel, or even be safe on a coach-box ;

for strong nerve and presence of mind are very often

called into action there.

I have more than once amused myself with thinking,

that if a Diet were formed, before whom crentlemen

9 ....

coachmen were to be examined previous to their being

considered safe, it would not be amiss if they were to put

them to the following test : — -Let the harness of four

horses be taken to pieces — strap from strap — and then let

the pupil be directed to put it together again in their

presence. If he succeeded, I should have no hesitation

in pronouncing him safe, as his experience on the road

must have been considerable.

If a man could bequeath his experience to his heirs
as an heiiloom to his estate, what lots of money would be
saved to the young ones ! In the purchase of coach
horses some orentlemen coachmen whom I could name
have sunk little fortunes. A hint or two may not be
amiss here.

A gentleman should never purchase a horse for his
team without a good trial of his mouth and temper.
With respect to the first — to be perfect, he should be
almost what we call on the road 'a cheek horse ;' that is
to say, he should require very little curb ; should always
be at play with his bit, and yet not afraid of it ; and each
side of his mouth should be alike. To a gentleman's
leader a good mouth is everything, and then the higher
his courage is the safer he is to drive. With stage-coach

384 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

horses, which are always running home, mouth is not of
so much consequence, as there is no turning and twisting,
as in gentleman's work, which is often in a crowd. A
gentleman's leader that requires the whip should be dis-
charged— a whistle, or a click with the tongue, should
make him spring to his collar in an instant.

Wheel-horses also that are anything like perfect are
very difficult to be procured, and, after all, they are the
sheet-anchor of the drag. If they are steady, and will
hold well, a coachman may almost set his leaders at
defiance ; but if they are all ' rum ones ' together, danger
is ever at hand. Several of my driving friends prefer
purchasing their wheelers out of coaches after they have
been about six months in regular work, and it is by no
means a bad plan. For the sum of sixty to eighty guineas
they may generally pick the flower of any man's stock,
and a good, sound, well-broke coach horse cannot be said
to be dear at that price.

Gentlemen's coach horses should always be high in
flesh, as it is a great set-off to their appearance, and, if the
flesh be good, it is no obstacle to pace. A sound five-
year-old horse, with good legs and feet to begin with,
and on ly driven in harness, will, on an average, last from
six to ten years in gentleman's work, and then be very
useful for other purposes. He is generally never so well
as when in his regular work ; but if a screw gets loose, a
winter's run without his shoes, and mercurial charges to
his legs, will set him up again.

Gentlemen coachmen go along now at least two miles
an hour faster than they did fifteen years ago. This has

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 385

led to a different sort of coach horse, and the change is
much for the better. The great Yorkshire horse is
become obsolete, and those nearly, or quite, thorough-
bred have taken their place. The great size and long
action of the former rendered them unpleasant to drive ;
whereas the smartness and activity of the latter render
them quite delightful ; and — which is by no means un-
grateful to the driver — they appear to be going faster
than they really are.

A gentleman's coaching establishment should not
be lower than ten horses. These will ensure him two
teams, and two rest-horses in case of accidents which, in
the most careful hands, will sometimes occur. He should
have two complete sets of harness for his own work, as
also one for his break — an article he should never be
without. A head coachman who knows his business,
and two strong helpers under him, will keep all things
clean and in their places.

In gentleman's work, as well as on the road, a tool-
box is a necessary appendage, to keep the drag moving.
It should contain a strong screw-wrench ; wheel and
spring clips ; a spring shackle or two, with bolts and
nuts ; two chains — one for a trace, and the other shorter,
with a ring at one end and hook at the other, in case of
a tug giving way : and a short strap, with a buckle at
each end, should always be carried with a coach, as in
case of almost any part of the reins, or indeed most parts
of the harness, breaking, it comes into use in a moment.
The coachman should have it in his pocket.

Before I take leave of gentlemen coachmen, I must

c c

386 ANNALS OF THE ROAD.

mention one amateur whom I have not hitherto noticed,
in consequence of his not having belonged to either of
the clubs I have been speaking of, or driving a team of
his own. I allude to Mr. John Willan — a very capital
performer, and very often at work on the road, as also
on several of our swell drags, in the high London season.
Mr. Willan is a very powerful man, and though young in
years is full of experience, and can put four horses to-
gether as well as any man going. Mr. Willan, in short,
is good at everything : he is good over a country ; good
at cricket ; good over the mahogany ; and, to sum up
the whole — a good fellow altogether.

I may be allowed also to conclude with two or three
hints, not before mentioned. With a cantering leader, or
one that frets, young coachmen are apt, on all occasions,
to pull him back and endeavour to get him into his trot,
by the bit ; whereas that generally fails, if it do not make
him worse, by bringing him back on his bar. The scien-
tific way is to pull him back by his harness ; that is, to
keep the wheelers back, so that he may feel his collar
and the bit at the same time, which will tend to soothe
his temper.

Speaking of bars, it is well to observe, that where the
bars can go the coach can go, as they are wider than the
wheels. If they are cleared, therefore, all is safe. The
swing- bar we use in coaches is an excellent invention, as
a horse works in it from either shoulder, and of course
quite at his ease.

Moping a hot leader has sometimes a good effect. I
once bought a capital coach horse for twenty-six pounds

GENTLEMEN COACHMEN. 387

because no one could drive him ; and as he had broken
two carriages, he was the terror of the neighbourhood.
I moped him, and could drive him, with the greatest
safety, either leader or at wheel.

I have one more hint to offer. When all four horses
are to be restrained at once, almost all coachmen draw all
the reins through their finders at the same moment.
This is not the way to do it ; for here your horses mouths
are lost. The coachman should change his hands thus :
he should open the fingers of his right hand and put
the reins into them, about two inches in front of his left
hand, and then catch them again with his left by passing
it beyond his right. By this plan, his horses' mouths, as
I said before, are not lost, which they would otherwise
be. I am indebted to Jack Peer for this wrinkle, which
I briefly noticed in my last.

I have never met with more than one coachman who
drives with a full hand, and that is Mr. Hunt, who
horses and drives an Epsom coach. With a full hand,
every rein passes singly through the fingers, which is not
the case on the general plan. There is one advantage
(with long wheel reins) in this method — the near wheeler s
rein is not covered by the off leader s ; but this is more
than counterbalanced by the comparatively trifling power
a man has in his little finger, which must mainly resist
the operation of the off leader's rein. Were it not for
this, an advantage would attend it. On my asking Mr.
Hunt why he drove in this way, he replied, that he had
a very fat round hand, and he felt it more convenient.

c c 2

APPENDIX A.

SOME ROAD SLANG TERMS.

i. Of Horses.

Cattle, prads, tits

Horses.

Cocktails

Crossbred ones.

Wheeler

At wheel.

Leader

In front of wheeler.

Bolter.

.

A runaway 'oss.

Team .

•

The number of horses you drive, gene-
rally with reference to four.

Pickaxe team or
unicorn

j

Three.

Bo-kickers .

.

Kickers all round ; real brutes.

A cheek horse

.

One requiring little curb.

Milliner

.

Kicking.

Three blind uns
and a bolter

}

A badish team.

Jumping .

•

A wheeler cantering or feeling the
pressure on him.

Moping

.

Blinding.

Fanning

.

Whipping.

Springing .

.

Galloping.

Chopping .

•

Hitting a horse with the whip on the
thigh.

Towelling .

.

Flogging.

Pointing

•

Hitting a wheeler with the point of the
whip.

Queer ones .

.

Subject to the megrims.

Under the whip .

.

The off side.

39°

APTENDIX A.

Whip hand .

Up to their bits .

Carrying the bar .

Shouldering the pole
Hanging off
Poling-up or pole-
piecing
Coupling-up

Leathers
Lapping traces

Crossing traces

Terrets
Head terrets '

Guide terrets

Pole pieces .
Neckings
Throat hasps

Ribbons
Coupling reins
Draught or leading

reins
Throat lashing .

}

}

Right hand.

Going straight

The freer horse's bar being an inch or

two before his partner's.
Pushing it against his partner.
The opposite.

Fastening horses to the pole.

Fastening the coupling reins.

2. Of Harness.

Harness.

The inside trace of one leader passing

inside that of the other and returning

to his own bar.
The inside trace of one leader fastening

to the inside bar of his partner.
Rings through which your reins run.
Between the wheelers' ears through

which your leaders' reins run. (The

invention of Lord Hawke.)
On the wheelers' pads through which

your lead traces run.
Pole straps or chains.
To fasten the names a-top.
To the names through a ring on which

the pole piece goes.
Reins.

The crossed inner reins.
The outer reins, the fellows to the

coupling reins.
Passing a (leader's) coupling rein through

a ring on his own throat lash previous

to its being buckled to his partner's.

1 These are now very generally given up in favour of rings or terrets on
the outside of the wheelers' head-piece.

GENERAL ROAD SLANG AND TERMS.

39 1

A drag
A mail

A stage

Butterflies .

To mile (miled) .

No life in the coach

Coach alive.
The mad woman.
Fore and hind boot
Under carriage ' .
Telegraph springs

Box seat

Gammon board .
Backgammon board
Futchells .

Perch .
Perch bolt .

Bolt hole .
Transom plates .
Felly, and felloes or

fellies
Tire

3. Of a Coach.

. A gentleman's coach.

. Carrying the mails and a limited number

of passengers.
. A coach appointed for the conveyance

of travellers and parcels from one

city or town to another.
. Summer coaches.
. To rent at per mile.
. When travelling over deep or gravelly

roads.
. The opposite.
. An empty coach.
. Receptacles for luggage.
. The foundation.
. Coach springs or beds, the invention of

Mr. Warde of Squerries, and first used

on the Manchester ' Telegraph,' whence

the name.
. 2s, 6d. extra now, and worth it too.
. The seat in front on the roof.
. The seat behind on the roof.
. Fastening the splinter bar to the axle-
tree bed ; the pole is fastened between

the two centre ones.
. Connecting the fore and hind axletrees.
. Goes through the fore axletree bed and

fore transom, holding the perch.
. For perch bolt.

. Above and below the axletree beds.
\ The singular and plural denominating
J the quarters of the wheel.
. The iron hooping confining the felloes.

See woodcut on next page.

A .Splinter bar

B B Inside futchels

C C Outside futchels

D Bridge plate

E Perch bolt stay

F Perch bolt

G G G G Roller bolts

H H Sway bar

I Transom (axletree
bed under t ransom)
J J J J Spring clips
KKKK Carriage springs
llll Body springs
M Perch
N N Perch wings
O Hind axletree bed
P P P P Cartoux

Q Q Q Perch hoops

R R R R 1 , . , , ,

RRRR/SprmgShaCkIeS

S S Main bars
TTT Leading bars
u Pole
V Pole hook
w Pole chains
X Unicorn bar1

1 A better plan for this is to have a ring on to one of the ordinary spare swingle bars,
which then answers the double purpose of a swingle or a unicorn bar.

GENERAL ROAD SLANG AND TERMS.

393

Skid or slipper

To unskid .
The brake .

To lock or chain a
wheel,

1

Splinter or wheel bar .
Roller bolts

Main bar

Swing or swingle bars .

Three feet of tin .
A tool, a crop, the "1
polished yew J

The docker .

Points .

The cap and thumb

ferule
A case

A sack wanting .
Quarters and false

quarters
Pushing ground, ora")

long fall of ground,

or falling ground
Collar work
Feather-edging it

An iron with flanges retained by a chain
from the perch or axle, which, fitting
under the hind wheel prevents its re-
volving, and so locks the wheel.

To take this off.

An apparatus which by pressure against
the tire of the wheel retards the
motion of the coach : invented by
Mr. Tongue.

Either with skid or a chain or both ; the
latter is used hooked round the felly or
the spoke of the wheel.

From which the wheelers pull.

On the splinter bar, and on which the
wheeler's traces are fastened.

Hangs on to the pole head.

From which the leaders' four traces pull.
These hang from each end of the
main bar.

The regulation coach horn.

A whip.

A short whip kept handy by the ' smock-
frock ' and low sort.

Pieces of ready knotted whipcord for
the whip.

Of whip ; introduced by Sir Henry

Peyton.
An upset or smash.
After a case.

Ruts, and very deep ruts.

A long hill in your favour.

Uphill work.

Driving near to anything.

394

APPENDIX A.

I

A drags man

An artist or a workman

Knights of the whip, "

whips, Jehus,

coachee
A spoon or lame hand
A fr esh-catched

coachman
A wap-john
Drivers
Jarvey
A bang-up or a slap- 1

up coachman
A waste-butt sort of

fellow
Sprung
To lie still .
To keep your right

hand down
To take off your bars
Chin work .

Time .

4. Of Coachmen.

. A coachman.
Good coachman.

Coachmen.

A bad one.

One just got to work.

A gentleman's coachman.

Not coachmen.

A slow and inelegant one.

To draw or back draw

Double thonging

A lot of sort
Under- and over-
hand strokes

1

Tip-top.

One of the pull-up-at-every-inn sort.

Tipsy.
When sick.

To keep sober.

To resign the road.

Driving with your hands well up to

your face.
To keep which is the test of an artist —

and to be kept to a minute : not to a

minute or two, as a wag said to Nim-

rod one day.
To incline your thong after a hit so as

to bring it up to hand.
Hitting your wheelers with your thong

twisted.
Expressive of high approval.
Directing your points above or below

the bar.

GENERAL ROAD SLANG AND TERMS.

395

Stage .
Natty .
Set-out

Getting hanged
A bite.
Short shillings

To kick
Shouldering

A shoulder-stick, a

bit of fish, or a

short one
A scaly one
Tipping the double
A flash of lightning, a "

drop of short, or ■

don't stop to mix it .
Benjamins and upper "I

benjamins J

Dressing
A good bit of broad "

cloth or neatish

toggery
A lily shallow
A white castor
The Beaufort
The Anglesea

A drab surtout .
Belchers

A little of the spot \
about the neck J

The distance run with the same team.

Neat.

Turn-out.

Your thong catching in your bar.

A wet thong getting hanged.

Fares that coachmen are allowed not to

put on the way-bill — generally the

first stage off the stones.
To take presents from the passengers.
Taking a fare not on the way-bill, and

unknown to the proprietors.

A passenger not on the way-bill.

A shabby pay.
Not paying at all.

A glass of spirits neat.
Great coats.

Putting on great coats and shawls.

Good clothes.

A white hat (fiat, low crowned).

A white hat.

Smaller hat with narrow rim.

One higher, and very fore and aft in

brim.
A drab frock.
Two or three times round your neck

handkerchiefs.

Having on a bird's-eye fogle.

595

APPENDIX B.

A pretty bit of muslin .

A trump

The tormentor .

Hands

Handling the ribbons .
Driving with a full hand

A ' clear dark ' night .

Having a bit of the
drag about you

The shooter
The sweater
The sweating shop

A well-dressed woman.

A kind-hearted master.

One always on the look-out.

A certain faculty of touch requisite for
an artist.

Driving.

Having the reins passing through the
fingers singly.

A night quite dark and black.

Wearing driving clothes such as a box-
coat or benjamin, or a belcher with a
bit of spot about the neck.

The guard.

A young mail guard, one in training.

The rendezvous in the G.P.O.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR MAIL GUARDS. 397

APPENDIX B.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR MAIL GUARDS.

1. The guard is intrusted with the care of the letter bags,
and he is to be answerable at his peril for the security, safe
conduct, and delivery of them sealed.

2. He is not to quit or desert the mail or bags of letters, or
suffer any loitering or unnecessary stopping at public-houses, or
other misspending of time upon the road, or neglect to give
information of such misconduct on the part of the coachman ;
if he does he will be liable to be taken before a Justice of the
Peace, and committed to prison with hard labour for one month ;
and he is subject to all other punishments and penalties which
the laws (as specified in the several Acts of Parliament relative
to the Post Office) have hitherto inflicted upon post riders who
have neglected their duty.

3. If in post towns, he, on any account, collects or delivers
letters or packets, or does so upon the road (except in some
particular cases, where the superior officers of the district or
postmaster are authorised to order it), he will be liable to an
information before a Justice of the Peace, and to the payment of
\Os. for every letter, agreeable to an Act of Parliament passed
in the first year of the reign of his Majesty George III., and will
be dismissed the service.

4. The guard is to behave with civility to passengers, and
to assist the coachman on any occasions that are consistent with
his situation as protector of the mails, and do not take him out
of sight of the place where they are deposited.

5. He is on no account whatever to give up his station to

398 APPENDIX B.

another person. He is to take care his fire-arms are kept in
clean and good condition, that they are always properly loaded
and primed when on duty, and on no account whatever to be
wantonly discharging his blunderbuss or pistol as the carriage
is going along the road or through a town ; for every such
offence he forfeits five pounds, agreeably to an Act of Parlia-
ment. He is also to draw the charge of them as soon as he has
ended his journey.

6. He is to sound his horn as a signal for carriages to turn
out of the way upon the approach of the mail-coach, also to warn
turnpike men of its coming, that no unnecessary delay may
be occasioned, and likewise to prepare postmasters against its
arrival, and horse-keepers to bring out their horses at each of the
changing places ; and he is to sound it always as a signal to
passengers when the time is expired that is allowed in the time
bill for their stopping to refresh, and use his utmost exertions to
prevent delay in all cases whatever.

7. It is the guard's duty to see the time bill is justly dated
and signed at every place, and where he cannot obtain the post-
master's date and signature, to do it correctly himself; to insert
the number of passengers travelling by the coach, for which a
space is provided, and to deliver it carefully to the guard who
succeeds him at the end of his journey, or to the postmaster at
the place where the route of the mail-coach ends.

8. He must be very careful of the timepiece and time bill,
and if either should at any time be broken, torn, or lost, imme-
diate notice must be given at the General Post Office, or the
case communicated to the postmaster of the nearest place, that
he may report the same.

9. Guards will be suspended and otherwise punished who
neglect to deliver the bye bags properly, which, for want of better
attention, have been frequently carried beyond their distance,
and sometimes even brought up to London.

10. Drunkenness or disobedience of official orders will be
punished with dismissal.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR MAIL GUARDS. 399

1 1. The guard is to prevent, if possible, any more passengers
being conveyed than the contract allows, and if a guard neglect
to give immediate notice of any violation of this article, with an
account of the parties who are accessory to it, it will be con-
sidered as a very material breach of his duty, and he will be
punished accordingly.

12. It is a very necessary part of his duty to report the
earliest intelligence of all accidents, delays, or obstructions, of
inattention or want of readiness in horse-keepers, of misconduct
in any of the parties concerned in the performance of the duty,
and of all occurrences whatever that have a tendency to impede
the progress of the mail-coach, or may in any respect be proper
to be communicated. He will, if a mail-coach break down,
describe what particular part broke, on his bill ; and the next
day, as soon as possible, by letter give information how it
happened, and what damage was done.

13. If the mail-coach break down on its way to London, and
it cannot be repaired in half-an-hour, or in such time that the
mail may arrive at the Post Office by its proper time, the guard
is to ride on with it by horse or chaise. The postmasters and
contractors have directions to furnish such chaise or horse, which
the Postmaster-General will pay for the use of. The guard
must do all his business at the different offices, and his road
business, and take care that he performs his journey in the same
time as if the coach travelled.

14. If the mail-coach should fail between stage and stage,
the guard is to press one of the mail-coach horses, and ride on
to the next stage with it.

15. If in travelling from London an accident happens, he is
to use all possible expedition in repairing the coach, and if it
cannot be done in an hour or an hour and a half, as the circum-
stances of that particular road will allow, the guard must take
chaise to forward the mail.

16. Guards are on no account to carry parcels, whether for
private use or for sale ; and are to permit mail-coach con-

4co APPENDIX B.

tractors or postmasters to examine their mail box, and see their
time bill.

17. It is a guard's duty to report if horses are unfit for the
service, or if the harness and reins are bad.

18. It is a guard's duty always to have a box of tools com-
plete, according to the several articles enumerated below ; l also
a blunderbuss and case, a pair of pistols and holsters, a powder
horn, bullet mould, screwdriver, touch-hole picker, and lock for
the mail-box, and also a double or long spreading bar; and if
they do not keep them clean and in the most perfect repair,
the inspector will report it, and he will be punished for his
neglect.

19. In case of any accident that occasions the coach to be
delayed in its progress, it must be the guard's duty to see that
on the contractor's refusal, the guards are to get horses else-
where, and send an immediate account of the same to this
office.

20. The mail box, which on the regular coaches is calculated
for the reception of letter bags and such things only as relate to
the conveyance of the mail, must be confined entirely to that
use, and neither packets, parcels, luggage, or any other descrip-
tion of thing whatever must be put therein.

21. No luggage can be allowed on the roof which interferes
with the proper packing and safety of any sacks of letters which
the mails are in some cases obliged to carry there. No luggage
to be placed on the roof till after the boot is full, and then only
that which belongs to passengers. No more than three articles,
being portmanteaus or carpet-bags, are on any pretence to be
allowed, whether they be large or small, and the largest port-
manteau is not to exceed 2 feet 4 inches in length, and I foot
6 inches in height. They are never to be placed on each other.

1 Two trace chains, one pole chain, two tug chains, one hatchet, one
strong hammer, one wrench ditto, one small saw, one drift pin, one large
spike bit, two gimlets, one main bar, shackles, bolts, clips, nuts, worms,
screws, nails, cord.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR MAIL GUARDS. 401

By portmanteau is meant any article made of or covered with
leather or hair, and of course all boxes of other materials,
bundles, baskets, &c. are to be rejected. The portmanteaus are
to be fastened at one end to the seat-irons, and a staple will be
placed on each side of the coach, for one strap to go over and
further secure them.

22. No person of any description whatever, not being an
inspector of the Mail-Coach Department, can be suffered to ride
with the guard upon the mail box, on pain of dismissal, unless
in order to further some necessary business belonging to the
service. An authority to justify the same is issued from the
office, with the office seal affixed to it.

23. It is likewise the guard's duty constantly to examine the
condition and state of the mail-coaches, particularly of such
spare coach or coaches as stand upon any part of the ground
they work, and see that they are properly cleaned and taken
care of, and to report any deficiencies or imperfections in them,
and each guard is to be accountable for whatever damage the
coaches may sustain that are under his care, and also for the
loss of all seats, lamps, windows, or articles of any kind.

24. If at any time the coaches are not provided with the
best lamps and lights, the guards must report the same.

25. They must never leave their mail box unlocked when
the mail is therein, or take their lock off when the guards are
changed, till the succeeding guard has put his lock thereon.

26. The guards are on no account to permit passengers for
mere amusement to drive the mail-coaches. If a remonstrance
fails of having the proper effect, the circumstances are to be
reported on the time bill, that the penalty the law directs may
be inflicted on the coachman. Should the guards neglect to
report the circumstance, they will be suspended.

D D

402 APPENDIX C.

APPENDIX C.

MEASUREMENTS OF THE ROADS OUT OF LONDON.

I. The Kent Roads (with the exception of the road to
Woolwich through Vauxhall) are measured from the Surrey side
of London Bridge through Great Dover Street.

II. The Portsmouth Road, and those branching from it,
are measured from the Stones End in the Borough near the
Queen's Bench Prison, according to the milestones.

III. The ISLE OF WIGHT ROADS are measured from Cowes.

IV. The Croydon, Reigate, Epsom, and Brighton
Roads are measured from the Surrey side of Westminster Bridge
and from the ' Standard ' in Cornhill. The milestones are
generally numbered from both these places.

V. The Winchester and Southampton, Dorsetshire,
Devonshire, Cornwall, Wiltshire, Somersetshire, and
all the roads in the south-west of the kingdom are measured
from Hyde Park Corner through Brentford.

VI. The Uxbridge, Edgware, Birmingham, Shrews-
bury, and most of the roads in the north-western parts of the
kingdom are measured from where Tyburn turnpike formerly
stood, at the top of Oxford Street.

The HlGHGATE and Hampstead Roads are measured
from Holborn Bars, near Gray's Inn Lane, and from the
bottom of Oxford Street, where St. Giles' Pound formerly-
stood.

VII. The BARNET Road, and all the roads in the north
and some of the roads in the north-west of the kingdom, arc
measured from the place where Hick's Hall formerly stood,

MEASUREMENTS OF THE ROADS OUT OF LONDON. 403

viz. at the end of St. John Lane, St. John Street, West Smith-
field. A stone in front of the houses has an inscription pointing
out the spot.

VIII. The Ware and Huntingdon Roads, with the
branches therefrom, are measured from Skoreditch Church, but
the milestones are measured from this standard no farther
northward than Alconbury Hill, where these roads join the
Great North Road as measured from Hick's Hall.

IX. The ESSEX Roads are measured from Whitcchapel
Church.

LONDON : PRINTED BY

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE

AND PARLIAMENT STREET

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