The most trying time for the coachmen and guards were the two first hours on the road. After that, few vehicles were moving about, but up to that time a large number of all sorts, many of which were without lights, were in motion, and not only was a very careful look-out by the former necessary, but the latter had often, especially on thick nights, to make a free use of his horn to avoid collisions. The roads for the first ten miles out of town, as far as Barnet to the north and Hounslow to the west, might, when the days were not at their longest, be said to be a blaze of light. Between the down mails leaving London and the day coaches arriving, none with less than three lamps, and many with five, and some even with six, it was a bad look-out for travellers who drove horses that were frightened at lights. Indeed, I have known some persons very nervous on this subject. They seemed to think that because the strong light dazzled them, it must have the same effect upon the coachman's eyes; and, when I have been driving a coach very strongly lighted, I have known men to leave the road and drive into a field to get out of my way. The presence of a number of coaches carrying powerful lights, and going both ways, probably does have the tendency of throwing small carriages without lamps into the shade, and so making it more difficult to see them. An aspiring costermonger, trying to thread his way with his donkey and cart among the numerous other vehicles, might be overlooked without much difficulty among such a brilliant company.
I have sometimes been asked, when I was driving coaches, whether I had ever had an accident, to which I was able to reply for a good many years, that, though I had been very near several, I had been fortunate enough to steer clear of them. I had experienced different things which might easily have ended in an accident, such as a leader's rein breaking, the bit falling out of a wheel horse's mouth, a fore wheel coming off, and similar things, but had always managed to pull up without coming to grief. The case of the wheel might have been attended with very serious consequences if we had been going fast at the time, but fortunately it occurred just when I had pulled up to go slowly round a corner.
At last, however, it did come, and I think I may say "with a vengeance," though it was not accompanied with any loss of life or limb, or indeed any very serious consequences. It occurred when I was working the Aberystwith and Caernarvon "Snowdonian." A pole chain broke when descending a rather steep fall of ground, which caused the coach to approach the off-side of the road, and, as the lamps threw their light very high, I did not see a large stone, commonly called in the parlance of the road, "a waggoner," until it was close under the roller bolt, and immediately afterwards the fore wheel struck it with such violence that the concussion threw the box passenger and myself off the box. He was thrown clear of the coach, whilst I was pitched over the wheelers' heads, but, alighting upon the leaders' backs, was quietly let down to the ground between them. This, mercifully, laid me what the sailors call "fore and aft," and consequently the coach was able to pass over without touching me, and beyond a broken arm, I was little the worse. The horses galloped on for a few hundred yards, and then ran the off-side wheels up the hedgebank, upsetting the coach into the road.
This was somewhat of a lesson to me, for perhaps I had got the horses into the habit of going rather too fast down the falls of ground, of which there were several in the stage, but if I had not made play there, it would have been impossible to keep time. We were horsed by one of the hotel proprietors in Caernarvon, and it was certainly the worst team I ever drove. Underbred to start with, and, though our pace was not fast, yet from age and other infirmities too slow for it even such as it was.
Nevertheless, time was bound to be kept somehow, as we not unfrequently carried passengers who wanted to proceed from Caernarvon by the up mail train, and there was not much time to spare.
There was one thing I never would do, and that was to call upon good horses, the property of one proprietor, to fetch up time lost by the bad ones belonging to another.
I have previously alluded to being near accidents in consequence of a broken rein, and when I was driving the Aberystwith and Kington "Cambrian" I had a very near shave indeed from that cause. We had just commenced the descent of Radnor forest on the up journey, and I had begun to "shove 'em along a bit," when the near lead rein broke, and, consequently, the leaders got, to use a nautical phrase, athwart the wheelers. Of course, I tightened the brake at once, and was able to bring the coach to a standstill before any harm was done, as the pole held, and the horses were quiet, but another yard or two more and the coach must have gone over, as the leaders were already jammed in between the wheelers and a high hedgebank, with their heads turned the wrong way.
A fallen horse and the wheel off a carriageJ. Sturgess del. et lith.M&N. Hanhart imp.HORSES IN A HEAP. LEADER DOWN, WHEELERS FALLING OVER HIM.
J. Sturgess del. et lith.M&N. Hanhart imp.HORSES IN A HEAP. LEADER DOWN, WHEELERS FALLING OVER HIM.
J. Sturgess del. et lith.M&N. Hanhart imp.HORSES IN A HEAP. LEADER DOWN, WHEELERS FALLING OVER HIM.
J. Sturgess del. et lith.
M&N. Hanhart imp.
HORSES IN A HEAP. LEADER DOWN, WHEELERS FALLING OVER HIM.
Perhaps some reader may say, "What a shame it was to use such reins, they ought not to be able to break;" and of course they ought not, but horsekeepers were not the most reliable of men, and no coachman could possibly find time to examine the harness at every stage. If leading reins could be cut out of one length of leather, there would be very few or no breakages, but as they are obliged to be made of several lengths sewn together, they are liable to break, as they get old, from the stitches becoming rotten. Nevertheless such things ought not to happen, but as I knew they would, I always carried about me two short straps the same width as the reins, one about two inches long, with a buckle at both ends, and the other with a buckle at one end and a billet at the other, so that a breakage would be easily repaired at whatever part it might occur.
I have twice had three out of the four horses in a heap, from a leader coming down and the two wheelers falling over him; but in such a case as this there is very little danger if the coachman has the presence of mind not to leave his box till there is sufficient strength at the horses' heads to prevent them jumping up and starting off frightened.
These, and a few others which have come to the front in connection with other subjects, are all the accidents and close shaves which I have experienced as a coachman; and when I call to mind the many thousand miles I have driven, over some very indifferent roads, with heavy loads, at all hours, in all weathers, and with all sorts of "cattle," I think I may consider myself fortunate. But then I was insured in the "Railway Passengers' Insurance Company," and recommend all other coachmen to do the same.
So much for my own experiences. Now for a few which have been gone through by others.
Went over bank and hedgeJ. Sturgess del. et lith.M&N. Hanhart imp.WENT OVER BANK & HEDGE.
J. Sturgess del. et lith.M&N. Hanhart imp.WENT OVER BANK & HEDGE.
J. Sturgess del. et lith.M&N. Hanhart imp.WENT OVER BANK & HEDGE.
J. Sturgess del. et lith.
M&N. Hanhart imp.
WENT OVER BANK & HEDGE.
All those which have resulted from climatic influences will be introduced in connection with their respective causes, but I will venture to present to the reader others which, from one cause or another, possess more or less a character of their own, and are distinguished either by extraordinary escapes, great recklessness, or some other remarkable feature. The first I shall notice is distinguished by the singularity of the escapes, and I cannot convey the circumstances connected with it better than by giving the report of the inspector upon the accident which occurred to the Gloucester and Caermarthen mail on December 19, 1835. He says:—
"It appears from the tracks of the wheels, which are still visible, owing to the frost setting in immediately after the accident, that about a hundred yards before the cart was met, the mail was in the middle of the road, leaving room on either side for the cart to pass, and at this distance the cart was seen to be on the wrong side of the road. The coachman called out in the usual way when the carter crossed to his near side of the road, and had the coachman gone to his near side, no accident would have occurred; but, by the tracks of the wheels, it is quite clear that the coachman took the off-side of the road in a sort of sweep, when the leaders coming in front of the cart, and not being able to pass, went over the bank and hedge, the latter being low; and then the wheelers followed in as regular a manner as if they had been going down a street, and all the four wheels of the coach went on the bank straight forward and went down the precipice in this manner for some short distance before the mail went over, which it did on the right side, and turned over four times before it was stopped by coming against an oak tree. But for this impediment to its progress it would have turned over again and fallen into a river. The pole was broken at both ends, and the perch and hind springs were broken. The fore boot was left in its progress; the mail box was dashed to atoms, and the luggage and bags strewed in all directions. A tin box containing valuable deeds was broken, and the deeds scattered in all directions, but have been all recovered, and are safe in Colonel Gwynne's possession, to whom they belong. When the coach came against the tree it was on its wheels. Colonel Gwynne caused it to be chained and locked to the tree till the inspector should see it. The distance from the road to the tree is eighty-seven feet. The passengers were Colonel Gwynne on the box, Mr. D. Jones, Mr. Edwards, and Mr. Kenrick on the roof, and Mr. Lloyd Harris and Mr. Church inside. Colonel Gwynne jumped off when he saw the leaders going over the bank, as did Edward Jenkins the coachman and Compton the guard. The latter was somewhat stunned at first, but all escaped with slight hurt.
"Mr. D. Jones was found about half-way down the precipice, bleeding much, having received several cuts about the head and face, and was a good deal bruised and in a senseless state. Mr. Harris, when the coach came in contact with the tree, was forced through the part from which the boot had been separated, and fell into the river. He remembers nothing of the accident except feeling cold when in the river, from which, somehow or other, he got out and went to a farmhouse near, where he was found in a senseless state. He has a severe cut on the upper lip, but both he and Mr. Jones are recovering rapidly. Mr. Kenrick was not hurt in the least. The accident appears to have been one of the most extraordinary ever heard of, and the escape of the passengers with their lives most miraculous. The coachman's conduct seems to have been most censurable. He is reported by the guard and passengers to have driven the whole of the way most irregularly. He was remonstrated with by them, but, as has been seen, with no effect. One of the passengers thought he was drunk, but the guard says he did not observe it, but that he only heard him speak once. The horses were so little injured that they were at work the next day in their usual places."
The coachman was afterwards brought before the magistrates, when he pleaded guilty to negligence and being on the wrong side of the road, and was fined five pounds.
On 13th January, 1836, when the Falmouth and Exeter mail was about three miles from Okehampton, the coachman drove against a heap of stones which had been placed too far out from the off-side of the road, and the concussion was so great that both himself and the guard were thrown off. The horses, finding themselves under no control, immediately went off at a smart pace, and, although they had three sharp turns to take, and a hill to go down, actually arrived at the Okehampton turnpike gate without the slightest accident. There was one gentleman inside, who was not aware that anything was amiss, but merely thought the coachman was driving too fast. Perhaps the despised turnpike gate prevented a serious accident in this case.
In July, 1839, the Ipswich mail, when arriving at Colchester, the coachman Flack, as is usual, threw down the reins and got down when no horsekeeper was at the horses' heads, and they galloped off till the near leader fell and broke his neck, which stopped them. Probably this accident would not have occurred if the coach had been fitted with a brake, which the coachman ought to put on tight before leaving his box.
An old friend of mine writes me, "One night I was a passenger in the Glasgow mail, driven by Captain Baynton, and felt rather uneasy when I found we were racing with the Edinburgh mail for the Stamford Hill toll-gate. The consequence was, we cannoned in the gate, and a most awful crash ensued, killing two wheel horses and seriously injuring the other two. It is needless to say that Billy Chaplin never allowed the captain to take the Glasgow mail out of the yard again." Anything more reckless than this could not possibly be. Not only were they racing down hill, but the gate was too narrow to admit of both coaches going through abreast; consequently, unless the nerve of one of the coachmen gave way before it was too late, so as to make him decline the contest in time, a smash was inevitable. Neither had they the excuse that they were driving opposition coaches.
On September 29th, 1835, when the coachman of the Ipswich mail was getting into his seat at the "Swan with Two Necks" yard in Lad Lane, the horses suddenly started off, knocking down the man who was attending at their heads, and throwing the coachman off the steps. They then proceeded at a rapid pace into Cheapside, when the coach, catching the hind part of the Poole mail, the concussion was so great that it threw the coachman of that mail from his box with such violence that he was taken up senseless, and was carried to the hospital in a dangerous state. The horses of the Ipswich mail, continuing their speed, ran the pole into the iron railings of the area of Mr. Ripling's house, which breaking, fortunately set the leaders at liberty, when the wheel horses were soon stopped without doing any further damage.
To anyone who remembers the situation of the yard of the "Swan with Two Necks," it will be a matter of surprise how four horses, entirely left to their own guidance, could possibly steer the coach clear of the different corners between it and Cheapside.
The following is an instance of a coach absolutely rolling over.
The "Liverpool Express," when near Chalk Hill on her journey to London, though not a particularly fast coach, was going at a great pace, as the stage was only four miles, and she was making time for a long stage to follow. Somehow or another she got on the rock, which is easily done with a coach heavily loaded on the roof if the wheel horses are not poled up even, or not the right length, and the coach is kept too much on the side of the road.
Though I have elsewhere said a good deal on the subject of pole chains, I have been induced to make a practical application here for the benefit of any young coachmen who may be disposed to spring their teams on a nice piece of flat ground. But to return to the "Express."
It was a very old coach, and the transom plate was so much worn as to have become round, and she rolled over, killing one passenger and severely injuring two more. "They were thrown off like a man sowing wheat broadcast," says my informant. One passenger brought an action against the proprietors and recovered heavy damages, though they tried to saddle it on the coachman's driving too fast; but the jury laid it to the bad state of the transom plate, and gave damages accordingly.
The following accident, like many others, is one which ought not to have happened at all, and it appears to me that, after all the investigation which took place, the saddle was put upon the back of the wrong horse. However, I will give the Post-office minute upon the occasion:—
"London and Worcester mail coach accident caused through carrying an extra passenger on the box, July 9th, 1838.
"As the mail coach was entering Broadway, the horses ran away; when the leading reins breaking, the coach was drawn against a post, and the pole and splinter bar were broken. Fortunately, the coach did not overturn. The reason for the horses taking fright could not be ascertained, but the guard stated that the book-keeper at Oxford had insisted on placing an extra passenger on the box seat with the coachman, who had declared since the accident that, if the extra passenger had not been on the box seat, he would have been enabled to stop the horses.
"An order was issued that the book-keeper and coachman were to be summoned, with the intent of punishing them both with the utmost rigour of the law; as regards the coachman for allowing an extra person to ride with him, and the book-keeper for insisting that the coachman (who was in a manner obliged to obey his orders) should carry the passenger on the seat with him.
"The inspector found, when applying for the summons, that he could only proceed against the coachman. The case was heard before the magistrates at Oxford, when the coachman was fined in the penalty of fifty shillings and costs."
The question was raised as to asking the contractor to dismiss the coachman, but the opinion of the Postmaster-General was that the punishment had fallen on the wrong man, and he would, therefore, not insist upon his dismissal.
I should have supposed that, in such a case as this, the guard would have had power to summarily prevent an extra passenger being carried. If he had not that power he surely ought to have had it, and if he did possess it, and did not exercise it, he alone was to blame. But, after all, it is difficult to understand how the presence of a third person on the box could have contributed to the breaking of the reins, which was the ultimate cause of the accident.
Amongst the other old institutions and customs which I have raked up from the dust-heap of time, is the law of Deodand, and I will now, by means of an accident, give a practical insight into the working of it.
As the Holyhead mail was one day galloping down a sharp pitch in the road at Shenley, three boys on their way to school, as was a not uncommon practice with boys in those days, tried which of them could run across the road nearest to the horses' heads of the coach. Two of them got across in time and escaped without harm, but the third, being foolhardy, tried to return; the lamentable result of which was that the near side leading bar struck him and knocked him down, causing the mail to run over him, and he was killed on the spot.
A coroner's inquest was held, before which the coachman had to appear, but no blame was attached to him, although a deodand of one sovereign was levied on the coach.
The law appears to have worked hardly in this case. If any one was to blame, it must have been the coachman, and it was rather rough on the proprietors to fine them indirectly for an accident over which they could have no control.
There was a coach from Cambridge to London, called the "Star," what was called an up and down coach; that is, leaving Cambridge in the morning, and returning again in the evening, from the "Belle Sauvage," Ludgate Hill, which was driven by Joe Walton, a very steady, good coachman, but which, nevertheless, met with a very serious and expensive accident.
Sir St. Vincent Cotton, well known afterwards on the Brighton road, whenever he travelled by the "Star," was allowed by Mr. Nelson, the London proprietor, to waggon it, and it was considered a great piece of condescension on the part of old Joe to give up the ribbons to anyone; but the baronet was a first-rate amateur, and a liberal tipper, so he waived the etiquette. On one of these occasions the "Star" was a little behind time, and St. Vincent was making it up by springing the team a little too freely, which set the coach on the rock, and old Joe becoming nervous, seized hold of the near side reins and thus threw her over. Calloway, the jockey, who was on the coach, had his leg broken, and the accident altogether cost the proprietors nearly two thousand pounds. Sir St. Vincent was unable to assist them much, as he was hard-up at the time.
Probably the fact of the coach being driven by an amateur was not without its effect upon the costs, as, whether he was to blame or not, a jury would not be unlikely to arrive at the conclusion that he was the wrong man in the wrong place.
And now I will wind up this formidable chapter of accidents with one which indicates that the palmy days were passing away, and as it is always somewhat painful to witness the decay of anything one has been fond of, I will draw the veil over the decadence of a system which arrived nearer to perfection than any other road travelling that was ever seen in the world. Sufficient to say that my own experience on a journey during that winter on the Holyhead mail quite confirms the description given of the state of the horses and harness.
I was on the box of the mail one night in the month of January in that winter, when I saw the old short Tommy, which had lain so long on the shelf, reproduced, to enable time to be kept, and in one place there lay by the side of the road the carcase of a horse which had fallen in the up mail. Perhaps it was not very much to be wondered at that the proprietors should be unwilling to go to the expense of buying fresh horses at such a time, but they carried their prudence so far that it partook of cruelty.
The mail coach minute of the General Post-Office says: "Collision between the Holyhead mail coach and the Manchester mail coach, 29 June, 1838, at Dirty House Hill, between Weedon and Foster's Booth."
"Both coachmen were in fault. The Holyhead coach had no lamps, and the explanation of their absence was that 28th June of that year was the Coronation Day of our beloved Queen, and the crowd was so great in Birmingham that, in paying attention to getting the horses through the streets, and having lost considerable time in so doing, in the hurry to get the coach off again, the guard did not ascertain if the lamps were with the coach or not. The Manchester coach, at the time of the accident, was attempting, when climbing the hill, to pass the Carlisle mail coach, and was ascending on the wrong side of the road. The horses dashed into each other, with the result that one of the wheel horses of the Holyhead mail, belonging to Mr. Wilson, of Daventry, was killed, and the others injured, one of the leaders seriously. The harness was old, and snapped like chips, or more serious would have been the consequences. In fact, the horse killed was old and worn-out, otherwise, the sudden concussion might have deprived the passengers of life, and, probably, more horses would have been killed. As it was difficult to decide which of the two coachmen was most in the wrong, it was left to the two coachmasters to arrange affairs between themselves."
How the Holyhead, the Manchester, and the Carlisle mails ever got together on the same road I am unable to say, but can only suppose that the railway being open at that time from Liverpool and Manchester to Birmingham, the bags were in some way handed over to them for conveyance as far as was possible, and were then consigned at the terminus at Birmingham to their respective mail coaches; but, even then, I should have thought that the weight of the bags could not have been sufficient to necessitate a separate coach for each place.
How vividly do these words recall the many wet and snowy journeys which I have experienced, both as coachman and passenger, in years gone by, and, strange as it may appear to most people now-a-days, with no unpleasurable associations, though no doubt it was rather trying at the time. Snowstorms, in particular, were very detrimental to coachmen's eyes, particularly when accompanied with high winds. A good look out forward could on no account be relaxed, and that placed the eyes in such a position as was most favourable for the large flakes to fall into them. One coachman on the Holyhead mail, I forget his name, lost his sight from the effects of a snowstorm in the pass of Nant Francon, but probably his eyes had already been weakened by previous experiences of the same nature. I don't think my own have even quite recovered the effects of three winters over the base of Cader Idris.
But, notwithstanding all the bad weather I have been exposed to, I cannot call to mind having ever been wet through outside a coach; but then I always took care to be well protected by coats, and all other contrivances for withstanding it. I have, however, seen a fellow-passenger, when he dismounted from a coach at the end of an eighty miles' journey, performed in soaking rain, whose boots were as full of water from the rain having run down him, as if he had just walked through a brook.
I never had the misfortune of being regularly snowed up, though I have had some experience of snowdrifts. One of the winters that I drove the "Harkaway" was accompanied by a good deal of snow, and the road for part of the journey, which ran over high and exposed ground, became drifted up, preventing the coach running for two days.
On the third, however, as a slight thaw had set in, it was determined to try and force a way through, especially as the road surveyor had sent some men to clear away the snow. As far as the coach road was concerned, however, these men might nearly as well have stayed at home, as they had confined their attention to letting off the water where it had melted, and when the coach arrived at the spot the drifts remained very much as they had been. Under these circumstances, instead of the proverbial three courses there were only two offered to us—namely, to "go at it or go home." I chose the former alternative, and, catching the horses fast by the head, sent them at the first drift with such a will, that, between the force of the pace and a struggle or two besides, the coach was landed about half way through, when it stuck fast. The workmen now came to our assistance, and dug us out, and I had then only to do the same at the other two drifts, and we managed to catch a train at Machynlleth, though not the right one, as it had taken us two hours to cover a distance of one mile and a half.
Though I have always been fortunate enough to keep clear of dangerous floods, I did so once only by a detour of seven miles, thereby lengthening the day's drive to one hundred, and this reminds me of a rather droll request that was once made to me.
I was driving my drag with a party going to a picnic, and in the course of the drive we had to ford a river which had risen very considerably from the rains of the previous night. When we had got about half-way across, the water had become deep enough to rise a foot or so up the leaders' sides, and the spray was dashing over their backs. Of course, there was nothing to be done except to push on, but a lady called to me from behind, begging me either to turn round, or else put her down. If I had acceded to her last request, she would have met with a cool reception!
Notwithstanding all that was done by the great improvement made in roads, together with the superior class of horses employed and the general excellence of the coachmen, nothing could be effected to prevent loss of time or accidents occurring through severe snows, floods, and fogs, and the mail-bags were from these causes delayed, although, as we have already seen, almost superhuman efforts were made by the guards to get them through the stoppages.
Neither were the Postmaster-General and his subordinates wanting in using all the means in their power, whether by expenditure of money or in any other way, to secure the safety and punctuality of the mails. The expenses incurred during serious snows, in paying for the removal of the snow or for extra horses to the coaches, were considerable. In one heavy snowstorm the sum of one hundred and ninety pounds was paid for these purposes, and for another the cost was one hundred and sixty.
At one time the attention of the Postmaster-General was called to a snow-plough, and the following circular was issued in December, 1836, to the postmasters: "I send you some copies of a description of snow-plough, which has been used with great advantage in former seasons for the purpose of forcing a passage through the snow, and I have to request that you will communicate with the magistrates, commissioners, trustees, and surveyors of roads, or other influential persons, urging their co-operation in endeavouring to remove the impediments to the progress of the mails. The Postmaster-General relies on all possible efforts being made by yourself and others to secure this important object, and I would suggest whether, among other methods, the passage of the mail coaches through the snow might not be facilitated by placing them on sledges." Whether any pattern of snow-plough or sledge accompanied this missive is not clear, but, judging from some correspondence on the subject, I should fancy there was.
Nothing appears to have been done with either implement, and, indeed, it is not very likely that they would have been popular with the horse contractors. If the snow-ploughs had succeeded in clearing a space sufficient to permit of the passage of a coach, it would probably have left the road in a very heavy state, and I should doubt whether in the climate of this country sledges would have been found of much use. Our frosts are seldom intense enough, and too frequently accompanied with thaws, to allow of the surface being in a fit state for their use for sufficient length of time to make it worth while adapting the coaches to them. If sledges had been brought into general use, probably a good many proprietors would have followed the example set them by one of their number, who, when the coachman had succeeded by great exertions in getting his coach through the snow, said to him, "Why don't you stick her?" and, strange to relate, she did stick in a drift on the next journey.
Dense fogs, although not altogether stopping the traffic on the roads, were more conducive to accidents than heavy snows, which did absolutely prohibit progress. In the latter case, at the worst, conveyances were reduced to a complete standstill, and there was an end of it for the time; but if the fog was of such a density as to be capable of being cut with a knife and fork an attempt must be made. Though we hear from time to time of all traffic being stopped in the streets of the metropolis, I never recollect to have known of coaches being quite reduced to that state of helplessness; and, here again, the Postmaster-General is found providing what remedy he could. In November, 1835, he ordered links to be prepared, but with the assistance of those, even if carried by men on horseback, only very slow progress could have been effected. It is one of the greatest evils attendant on a fog that it renders lamps useless, and very much circumscribes the light thrown by a link.
If the fog was not very thick indeed, it was possible, though it might be attended by some little risk, to keep going pretty well, but when it became so dense as to hide the horses from the coachman's view there would be no travelling beyond a foot's pace. One could keep pushing along pretty well, as I recollect having done myself when driving a mail, and time had to be kept if at all possible, as long as the hedges could be distinguished, though I hardly knew how soon my leaders would be in the middle of a lot of loose horses which I could not see, but distinctly hear clattering along just in front of us.
Notwithstanding all the care that could be taken, accidents were the inevitable result of the attempts made to keep going, of which I will now give one or two instances, though they were not of a serious nature.
On December 3rd, 1839, the Gloucester and Stroud mails, which ran for a long distance over the same ground, were both drawn off the road and upset in a thick fog, and within a few days of this occurrence the Edinburgh mail was overturned into a ditch, owing to the fog being so thick that the coachman could not see his horses.
But floods were most to be dreaded. As has been shown, though fogs and snowstorms were great hindrances to locomotion, and the cause of a vast amount of inconvenience and expense, they were seldom attended with loss of life, whereas sad records of fatal issues are to be found in connection with floods, to a few of which I will call the reader's attention.
On September 11th, 1829, when the Birmingham and Liverpool mail reached Smallwood Bridge, it turned out that the bridge had been blown up by the force of the water, and the coachman, not being aware of it, the coach was precipitated into the river. The guard was washed down under a remaining arch. The coachman caught hold of a stump and saved himself. Of the three inside passengers, one being a slender, active young man, managed to get out by breaking the glass of the window, and helped to save the guard. The two others sunk to the bottom with one of the horses, and nothing could be seen but water.
Strange to say, however, the bags were eventually recovered, when the letters were carefully spread out to dry, and were, most of them, eventually delivered in tolerable condition. Some few fragments are to be seen now at the General Post-Office.
Moreton, the guard, was washed down about two hundreds yards, when he caught hold of a tree, and remained there up to his neck in water for an hour before he was rescued.
A most serious flood took place near Newport Pagnel, in November, 1823, though, fortunately, not attended with any fatal consequences, though the stoppage of traffic was very great.
The report to the General Post-Office was, "Owing to a sudden rise in the waters near Newport Pagnel, two mails, six coaches, and a van were unable to proceed on their journeys, and, but for the hospitality of Mr. R. Walker, brick-maker, the passengers, amounting to upwards of sixty persons, would have been exposed during the tempestuous night to all the severities of the season. He most kindly opened his doors, and generously offered to the passengers and horses every assistance and comfort in his power; turning his own horses out of the stables to afford shelter to those of the mails."
On February 9th, 1831, the Milford Haven mail met with a most serious accident.
The following is the report of the inspector, which, though rather involved, affords a graphic account of the circumstances, and I think I cannot do better than give it in his words. He says, "About two o'clock in the morning, when crossing a small bridge near the river Towy, about six miles from Caermarthen, on the London road between Caermarthen and Llandilo, owing to the heavy falls of snow and rain on the mountains and a rapid thaw afterwards, which caused the river to overflow the bridge and high road, the morning also being very dark, and the rain falling heavily, the coach was overtaken by the flood, and before the coachman was aware of it, the water rose to such a height in a few minutes that the four horses were unfortunately drowned, and all on the coach would undoubtedly have shared the same fate but for the meritorious conduct of a passenger named John Cressy (a servant in the employ of Sir Richard Phillips), who swam through the flood for about one hundred yards, and secured some boats, which he brought to their assistance, just as the water had reached the top of the coach, and by this means all the passengers, together with coachman, guard, and mails, were saved. John Cressy was awarded fifteen pounds by the Postmaster-General for his gallant conduct."
Some years after this, but I have not got the date, a somewhat similar accident happened on the down journey of the Gloucester and Aberystwith mail. The water had flooded the road at Lugwardine to a considerable depth, and one of the arches of the bridge had collapsed; the result of which was that coach, horses, passengers, and all were precipitated into the water, and were with great difficulty rescued, and though no life was lost at the time, one passenger, a Mr. Hardwick, died afterwards from being so long immersed in the water.
There can be but few left now who are able to call to mind that the style of coaches which now run in the summer months from the "White Horse Cellars," and traverse the different roads out of London, were to a great extent anticipated more than fifty years ago. But so it is, and I have a vivid recollection of having seen, in the years 1837 or 38, a remarkably well-appointed coach start from the "Cellars," which created quite a crowd of people, even in those days when coaches were as common as blackberries. It was named the "Taglioni," after a favouritedanseuseof those days, and ran to Windsor and back in the day. It was painted blue, with a red undercarriage, the family colours of Lord Chesterfield, who horsed it, in conjunction with Count d'Orsay and Prince Bathyani. Young Brackenbury was the professional coachman, for, though his Lordship and his brother proprietors drove very frequently, they kept a curate to do the work when they had other things to do which they liked better. Brackenbury used to wear a mostrécherchéblue scarf, with "Taglioni" embroidered on it by the Countess's own hands.
His Lordship had the credit of being a very good coachman, as will be seen from the few lines I venture to produce, which appeared in one of the sporting periodicals of that time:—
"See Chesterfield advance with steady hand,Swish at a rasper and in safety land,Who sits his horse so well, or at a race,Drives four in hand with greater skill or grace."
"See Chesterfield advance with steady hand,Swish at a rasper and in safety land,Who sits his horse so well, or at a race,Drives four in hand with greater skill or grace."
"See Chesterfield advance with steady hand,Swish at a rasper and in safety land,Who sits his horse so well, or at a race,Drives four in hand with greater skill or grace."
"See Chesterfield advance with steady hand,
Swish at a rasper and in safety land,
Who sits his horse so well, or at a race,
Drives four in hand with greater skill or grace."
No doubt, the "Taglioni" did take her share in the ordinary business of a public conveyance, and not, as in the present day, of carrying only parties on "pleasure bent," but it had a certain spice of the toy about it; and I should think did not much exercise the minds of Pears or Shepherd, who each had a coach on the same road. As a boy, I had an eye for a coach, and remember, as well as I remember old Keat's birch, seeing those two coaches pass through Eton. Shepherd's was a true blue coach, and travelled on the maxim of "Certain, though slow." Pears drove a coach painted chocolate with red undercarriage, and was altogether a smarter turn-out than the gentle Shepherd, and travelled somewhat faster, but, I believe, ran little chance of being run in for furious driving.
Whilst I stand in fancy upon the classic ground of Eton, there arises before my sight a pageant, which for better or worse has now, like so many other antique customs, passed away never to be revived. I suppose this is a necessary accompaniment of the progress of the age, and that "Montem" could hardly have been carried on in the days of the boiling kettle. It would have been as easy to get blood out of a stone assaltfrom a rushing train; besides which the present facilities of locomotion would have brought together an exceedingly miscellaneous gathering at Salt Hill, to say the least of it.
Still it was a unique institution, and contained in it a very kindly feeling—that of giving a little start in the world to a youth who had attained the top rung of the college ladder, and was entering upon his university career.
Most of the ways and doings of old Eton have found plenty of chroniclers. The institution in the library is never forgotten. The birch and the block always come in for their fair share of comment, but the triennial festival of "Montem" has, so far as I am aware, not received anything like the same amount of attention; and as I acted a part in two of them, both in blue and red, I will venture to intrude upon the patience of the reader whilst I make a short digression, emboldened thereto by the fact that Eton customs have already been handled, as well as the ribbons, in a book on coaching.
Well, then, "Montem" was celebrated every third year. The day's work began by four boys, selected for the purpose and gaily habited, starting off by two and two, early in the morning, to scour the principal roads in the neighbourhood, and gather donations in money—called for the occasion "Salt"—from all the travellers they met with. By this means a nice sum was collected, which was given to the senior boy on the foundation upon his leaving the college for the University of Cambridge. At a later hour, about ten o'clock, the whole school assembled in the college square. The sixth form, if I recollect rightly, wore fancy dresses, representing some classical or historical characters, and attended by one or two pages, selected from the lower boys, and also wearing fancy dresses. The fifth form wore a rather heterogeneous dress, a mixture of military and civil. It consisted of a red coat and white trousers, with a sword and sash, surmounted by a cocked hat, from which was fluttering in the wind a feather, such as was worn by a Field-Marshal or a General Officer, according to the taste of the wearer, or in what he could get. The lower boys were dressed in blue jackets and white trousers, each carrying in his hand a white wand, in length about six or seven feet, and in the procession were mixed alternately with the semi-military fifth form.
In this formation they marched round the quadrangle of the college, upon debouching from which a somewhat strange scene ensued. The wearers of the red coats drew their swords and began hacking vigorously at the wands, which were held out by their owners for the purpose of being cut to pieces. The swords, however, were so blunt that more wands owed their destruction to the hands of the blue boys than the swords of the red. The work of destruction being accomplished, the whole fell in again and marched to Salt Hill, where dinners were provided for them by their different houses; and dinner being ended, they returned to college as they liked.
The two hotels at Salt Hill are, I believe, now converted to other uses, and the dwellers there would be as much astonished to see a "Montem," as one of the hundred and odd mails and coaches which passed their doors in those days.
A book about coaching would be very incomplete without touching on the subject of horses, as they were like the main spring of a watch: the coach could not go without them.
Of course, a very large number of horses were employed in the coaches, and I can remember that many people feared that, if coaches ceased to run, the number and quality of the horses bred in the country would deteriorate, in consequence of this demand for them falling off; but that, like most prognostications of the same sort, has proved to be unfounded, and I should think the number of horses at the present time employed in public conveyances, must exceed considerably what it was in the days of road travelling.
However that may be, no doubt very large numbers were kept by the different coach proprietors, both in town and country, at the head of which stood Mr. Chaplin, with about thirteen hundred; and a very large capital was invested in the business, though probably not so large as might be supposed by the uninitiated; for, judging by my own experience, I should say that the price of horses used for that purpose has been over-stated. Nimrod, who was no doubt a very competent authority on the subject, at the time he wrote his article in theQuarterly Review,[1]puts the average price at twenty-five pounds, with about thirty pounds for those working out of London; but I think those prices are rather high.
This statement may appear erroneous to those who would judge by the sums now obtained for the horses which have been running in the summer coaches out of London in the present day; but the two businesses have little in common, except that the coaches go on wheels and are drawn by horses. Six months' work on a coach, loaded as they used to be, would take more out of the horses employed in them than would two years in the coaches which look so pretty at Hatchett's on a fine summer morning, and no one could have afforded to give high prices for what wore out so quickly; not but that horses increased in value for the work required of them as they became seasoned to it; but, again, some wore out in the seasoning. Many horses, doubtless, were bought at the price of twenty-five pounds, and perhaps in some cases a little over, though those were exceptional cases, and for myself, I can say that I never found it necessary to exceed that sum; but in drawing the average, we must not leave out of the calculation the large number of horses which found their way into coaches in consequence of the infirmity of their tempers, and, I may add, of the bad management they had been subjected to.
If a horse, though from no fault of his own, ran away with the parson's or lawyer's "four-wheeler," he was immediately offered to the nearest coach proprietor. If another kicked a commercial traveller out of his buggy, he was at once offered to the coach proprietor. If a gentleman's carriage-horse took to any bad habit, which rendered him unfit for his work, or unpleasant to the coachman to drive, he also was offered to the coach proprietor; and I once came into possession of a very good horse at the price of ten pounds from this last cause. He had taken to jibbing, probably because he had a very light mouth, which caused him to resent the bearing rein, and was offered to me for the above-named sum, at which I immediately closed. The coachman brought him to my stable in time for him to be harnessed and take his place in the team going out that evening, and he stayed to witness the start, quite expecting, I make no doubt, to see some fun. I put him at lead, by the side of a very good horse, though, by the by, he had brought a coach to grief when placed alongside of the pole. Of course, there was no bearing rein, and he only just stood for a moment till the bars began to rattle against his houghs, when he started off with a bound and a hop, and never gave the slightest trouble.
Horses also got into coaches in consequence of unsoundnesses, which, though little or no detriment to them for work, reduced their market value very considerably; and I once became possessed, for the sum of eighteen pounds, of a very fine horse, nearly thorough-bred, and only five years old, because he had become a roarer, and which had been bought as a hunter for one hundred guineas only a short time previously; but though he ran over a nine-mile stage with some very heavy hills upon it, having no weight on his back, he never made the slightest noise. There are other causes of unsoundness, such as crib-biting, which are no detriment to a coach-horse, though lowering their value in the market.
Then, again, if a horse fell and chipped his knees, whether it arose from any fault or not, he was, as a general rule, sold out of a gentleman's stable; and I once picked up an excellent horse merely for fear he should break his knees. He was a very well-made animal, with the exception that he turned his toes in. He was the property of a clergyman, who must have known little or nothing about horses, and, I suppose, some knowing friend who thought hedidknow must have alarmed him by telling him that the horse was certain to come down with such a pair of forelegs; so, to save a greater loss, a horse worth thirty pounds at least came into my possession for twenty. So far from falling, he was a safe goer, both in saddle and harness.
The instances to which I have alluded may be classed perhaps more as shortcomings and failings than vice, but to those must be added many whose tempers were apparently incorrigible, and they could only be put in a coach, as those who travelled post would not put up with them.
Just one worden passanton that mode of travelling, as it must be quite unknown to the majority of people now living; but, as one who can recollect it, I venture to say that a well-built comfortable carriage with four post-horses was the perfection of travelling. It is not to be denied that it took a day or two to get over the same distance as is now travelled by a train in a few hours, but the inns on the road were good, generally afforded comfortable accommodation, the cooking was also good, and the wine very fair, of which it was usual to order a bottle for the "good of the house." Some of them had a special character for what were called sleeping-houses, and travellers would continue their journey for an extra stage for the purpose of reaching one of these houses for the night. The attention paid to posting travellers was very great. Upon the carriage stopping at the door, the entrance was perceived to be lined by the hostess, waiters, chambermaids, etc., and the universal question was, "Will you please to alight?" If they elected to proceed, the cry was immediately raised, "First and second turns out," and in a minute would be seen approaching two mounted postboys, with two other men leading the hand horses, and in about three minutes they were off again, dashing along at about nine miles an hour. If, however, the day's journey was ended, the dusk of evening was exchanged for a comfortable private sitting-room with a bright fire—no public rooms in those days. At the time appointed a comfortable dinner would be served, thepiece de resistancebeing very commonly placed on the table by the host himself. Indeed, one of the great recommendations of the inns of those days was that the host and hostess interestedthemselvesin the comfort of their guests. If we add to this the fact that at the beginning of the journey you were taken from your own door, and at the end of it landed at your own or a friend's door, without the experiences of a crowded railway station, there may be something to be said in favour of it.
I can imagine I hear someone say, "Oh, yes, it might have been pleasant enough for those swells who could afford to pay for four horses, but how about the smaller fry who were obliged to be contented with the modest pair?" Well, I must confess that the odd mile or two an hour did make a difference, and posting in a travelling carriage packed with all its boxes, and containing four or five persons about it, such, in fact, as was called by the postboys a "bounder, having everything except the kitchen grate," was often, especially in winter, not unattended with discomfort and tediousness. How well can I recollect, when quite a child, at the end of a day's travelling of seventy or eighty miles on a winter's day, when twilight was fast sinking into darkness, envying the people who I could see through the windows of the houses, sitting round a blazing fire! And, indeed, the blacksmith, blowing up the fire on his hearth and making the sparks fly from the iron by the blows administered by his brawny arms, possessed much attraction. This, however, was quite made up for on the down journey later in the year. This, indeed, was unalloyed delight. After having been "cribbed, cabined, and confined" in London for five months, with nothing more nearly approaching to the country than Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens (and in those days there was not a flower-bed in either of them), when one emerged from the suburbs, which was sooner done in those days than now, and the eye beheld the fields and green hedges, made brilliant by wild flowers, it seemed a very Elysium; and to hold in one's hand a posy of dog-roses was bliss itself, even though they had received a peppering of road dust. I have always loved a dog-rose since, and shall continue to do so as long as I live. The longest summer day was hardly long enough for taking in such happiness. No amount of railway travelling will ever leave behind such happy reminiscences of childhood. Then, again, there was time and opportunity for other things, which can never be the case in railway travelling; amongst which was the childish pleasure of being fitted with a new straw hat whilst the horses were being changed at Dunstable. It was not allcouleur de rose, neither was it all labour and sorrow. Like all other things in this world, it had its lights and shades.
Perhaps it may be urged against this that there is no time for such a mode of travelling now. It may be so, but, as a nearly worn-out old roadster, it strikes me there may be too much haste for comfort. It was undeniably slow and expensive, though it may be doubted whether people generally spent more money in travelling than they do now. The facilities offered by railways cause the present generation to move about a great deal more freely than did their ancestors.
But all this is skirting, and I must return to the scent, which was, I think, very much the sort of horses which we coachmen had to drive. They were, indeed, often a very queer lot, but they had to be driven, and were driven. Of course, four of this sort were not put all together; there were always one or two steady ones among them. But even if they had been, and all had determined to do wrong, it is most improbable that all would have gone wrong in the same way, and one could have been played off against another. This is one great advantage in four. In single harness, if the horse takes to bad ways, you have the whole team against you, but that is, as I have said, very unlikely with four. Perhaps this may account for the old saying that "half the coachmen were killed out of gigs."
When I got a horse that was very troublesome, I always found that doubling him, that is, making him run his stage double, brought him to his senses in the course of a week or two. Some may say it was not right to risk the lives and limbs of the passengers, by using unruly horses, but, practically, very little danger was incurred. I will not say that no accidents ever occurred from this cause, but they were very rare. If an accident should have happened, and a life been lost from that cause, the old law of "deodand" would have touched up the proprietor's pockets severely; besides which, horses of this description were only entrusted to the hands of well-tried men.
Notwithstanding all this, however, accidents did occasionally happen from this cause, and sometimes of a very serious nature, one or two of which I will now produce. The first was an exceedingly calamitous one, and I think I cannot do better than use the words of a friend of mine, who was an eye-witness to the scene, as they will be more likely to convey a full idea of the horrible appearance presented by the mingled heap of injured human beings and horses, with the coach on the top of them, than anything I can say at second hand. He says: "I was staying at the 'White Horse,' at Hockliffe, for a few days, and on the first night I was disturbed by a man knocking at the front door and shouting, 'Get up, the "Greyhound" is overturned and all the passengers are killed.' Upon hearing of this terrific slaughter," he proceeds to say, "I got up, and with others started to the scene of the catastrophe, which was about a mile and a half distant, opposite to a large mansion called 'Battleden House,' then the residence of Sir G. P. Turner, and there we found a mass of human beings and horses all of a heap. The coachman was under the coach with his leg broken, many of the passengers dangerously injured, and two horses had legs broken. It was a shocking sight to witness, and melancholy to hear the squealing of horses, and the passengers moaning."
After all, however, it was found that there was not so much damage done here to the passengers as would have been expected. None were killed, nor any so seriously injured but that they were able to be conveyed to their destinations in a few days.
The cause of the accident originated in the near side wheeler accomplishing what she had tried to do many times before, viz., kick over the pole, which broke, when, of course, all control was lost, and the coach was overturned into the ravine where it was found.
In the other case no injury was sustained by anyone except the culprit himself, who must have been an exceedingly violent brute.
In October, 1839, when near Maidenhead a horse in the Bristol mail kicked so violently that he broke the pole-hook and harness, and put out his own shoulder in his fall.
Blind horses, again, found their way into coaches, and, if high mettled ones, performed very good work. The worst of them was, that they became too knowing about the corners, and when at wheel, where they were generally driven (though in Ireland I have had both leaders blind), if the coachman was not on the look out for it, might hang him into one. Some however, were very bold, and high couraged. I recollect one which ran in the lead of the "Greyhound" out of Shrewsbury, of this sort. He was so handsome a horse, that, if he had been all right, he would have commanded at least a hundred guineas for a gentleman's carriage, but being blind, of course, was only fit for a coach. One day, when I was travelling by that coach, and was as usual driving, he quite won my heart by the high couraged manner in which he elbowed his way through the large droves of cattle which were being driven along the road from Shrewsbury fair.
The reader will now understand how it came to pass that the average value of coach-horses was so low, as these blemished, unsound, and vicious ones never cost more than fifteen pounds, and very often not much above half that sum. I once purchased a good mare for the very modest figure of twenty-five shillings. It may be asked, how was it possible to buy a horse fit to run a coach, or indeed do any fast work, for such a sum? to which I reply, that she had only one place where she could possibly be utilized, and that at the time she came into my possession coaches were continually being supplanted by railways, and therefore there was very little demand for such as her. She had neither size nor form for a wheeler, even if she would have condescended to go there, and only of use on one side at lead, I forget which, and I suppose would very promptly have made fragments of any carriage behind her in single harness. She was, however, a real good leader where she chose to go, and I drove her in a match team of chestnuts for a considerable time. I bought her with confidence, as I had frequently driven her in another coach previously.
Talking of only going on one side, I do not think coachmen always consider this enough. There is a theory with many gentlemen, and their coachmen, that the sides should be changed frequently; but with hard work, such as that in a coach, horses do their work better and easier to themselves by always going in the same place. At one time I was horsing a coach, and driving one side, as it was called, another coachman driving the other; and, consequently, we both drove the same horses over some stages. He said to me, "That in one of my teams, one leader could not go up to the other." I asked him on which side he drove him. He replied, "I put him on the off side, because I can get at him better there." I said, "You try the near side," which was where I always drove him, "and you will not want to get at him." Of course, if a horse begins to hang to one side, it has become time to change him.
The vices which most commonly brought horses into coaches were jibbing and kicking. I do not recollect to have ever known a case of either of them being thoroughly eradicated, though they were sufficiently kept under to render them of little moment; but they were liable to return if a fresh hand took hold of them, especially if he showed any signs of indecision. It is astonishing how soon horses find out a change of hand.
The great thing to attend to with jibbers is not to keep them standing. If they have time to plant themselves they will give trouble; but if the coachman is up and off at once, they will generally start.
With kickers at wheel I never found two or three good punishments over the ears to fail in bringing them into subjection, or, at any rate, sufficiently so, though a "ventilated" front boot might occasionally be the result. With a road coach, however, this did not much signify. A leader might be harder to tame, as he cannot be got at in the same way. I have heard it said of some one that he was so excellent a whip that he could hit a fly on a leader's ear. I can only say I never saw it done. But if a leader will not stand still to kick, he can be driven; kick and keep going doesn't much matter.
In justice to the horses, however, it must be said that they are not the only ones to blame. No small number of them are rendered vicious, or unsteady, by mismanagement, and irremediable mischief is not unfrequently produced from quite unexpected causes. To give one instance: I am convinced that many a leader is set kicking by the pole-chains being too slack.
I fancy I hear someone say, "What on earth have the pole-chains to do with the leaders?" Well, I will try and show how intimately they are connected.
When pulling up or going down-hill, the wheel horses must come back towards the coach sufficiently to tighten the pole-chains. They will thus be nearer the coach, or further off, by just that number of inches. Then, as the leaders' reins are held in the same place as the wheelers', they must also come back by the same number of inches, which may, in the case of very slack pole-chains, be sufficient to allow the bars to fall upon the leaders' houghs, which is a fertile source of kicking; and it is a very true saying that a horse which has once kicked in harness is never to be trusted again.
For a large number of jibbers I believe the bearing rein to be responsible. But, after all, horses are queer creatures. They have as many fads and fancies as men and women. Some will kick for being touched in one spot, and some in another. I drove a leader for some time who was easily set kicking by the bar touching him above his houghs; but upon lengthening his traces by two or three holes, so as to let the bar fall below the hough, in case it should touch him, he was quite contented. And, again, some horses will kick when touched by a low pole, others by a high one.
Coupling reins also are frequently so arranged as to be a cause of discomfort to horses. It is manifest that when one horse carries his head high, and his partner low, the coupling rein of the former should be above that of the latter; and, again, if one horse tosses his head, and his coupling rein is the under one, he must cause much annoyance to the other, especially if he has a light mouth.
Parliament has now passed a Bill for the purpose of regulating the traffic in horseflesh. Such an Act, if it had been placed on the Statute Book, and had resulted in creating a demand for horseflesh for food, would have been a great boon to stage coachmen formerly, as they would not have been called upon to wear out the old horses. It would have paid the proprietors better to put them up to feed when they became stale, and fatten them for the market. It would also have prevented much suffering to horses.
And now, if any reader is astonished at the price of horses, if he has never heard of a less price for a set of harness than sixty guineas, he will be incredulous when I mention the cost of that generally used with coaches. Eighteen pounds was the top price usually given, and I have driven with well-shaped and good-looking harness which only cost sixteen. Indeed, at Walsall, which was the chief emporium for low-priced harness, if two or three sets were taken at the same time, they could be had for eleven pounds each. Collars were not included.
Of course, such harness as this did not last long, and, perhaps, was not the cheapest in the long run; though I doubt whether the leather was not better then than it is now, being all tanned with oak bark.
As the railways are dependent upon the excellence of the permanent way for the pace at which they can travel, so were coaches indebted to the good state of the roads for the great speed at which they were able to perform their journeys by day and night; and it may be safely said, without fear of contradiction, that in no other country had they been brought so near to perfection, although a good deal of improvement still remained to be done, and would have been effected if the railway era had been postponed for another decade. Everything that could be thought of to lighten the draught was being adopted. Not only were hills cut down and valleys filled up, but on one hill on the Holyhead road, between Dunstable and Brickhill, a tram of granite had been laid on one side of the road to render the draught lighter to carriages ascending the hill, though it had been very greatly eased by a deep cutting through the chalk. I was one day travelling up by the "Wonder," and when going up this hill, Harry Liley, who was driving, although it was a hard frost, put the wheels upon the tram to show me what a help it was to the horses. If it was of so much benefit when the frost had hardened the road, what must it have been when the road was soft? If these trams had become general, they would have saved the extra pair of horses which used to be frequently employed to pull the fast coaches up the worst ascents. Notwithstanding all that had been done on the main roads, there remained miles and miles of cross roads which were traversed by coaches at high speed, where little had been effected in the way of lowering hills, and it was then that the greatest care and skill were required to ensure the safety of heavily loaded coaches.
It must be recollected that up to quite the latter end of the great coaching days no patent breaks were in use. They were not invented till about the year 1835, and were very slow in coming into use. I knew a case of the Post-Office authorities refusing their sanction for the proprietors to have one attached to a mail coach at their own expense, because they thought it would break the contract with the coachmaker, and I can quite imagine that the breaks were no favourites of those who miled the coaches, as there was not only the original cost, but the use of one has a considerable influence in wearing out the hind wheels.
I had on one occasion undertaken to horse a coach over a stage, when the coach was supplied by one of the proprietors, and to save his hind wheels he wanted to omit the break. I immediately said, that no horse of mine would be put to a coach which was sent out without a break, as I believed them to be a great security against accidents. I have known of one instance, however, where, a break caused an accident instead of preventing it, but then the hind wheels must have been in a shameful condition, as they both broke upon its application.
I really think that wheel horses held back better in the days before breaks came into use than they do now. It was then necessary to take a hill in time, as it was called, which meant going slowly over the brow, and about half-way down it; and horses were, by this means, better educated in holding than they are now, when it is not generally necessary even to slacken the pace at all, as the pressure upon the horses can be regulated by the break. This is also an enormous help to a fast coach, even if it did not render the use of the skid almost unnecessary.
I was once talking this subject over with little Bob Leek, who, from having driven the "Hirondelle" for some years, was a very competent judge, and I remarked that I thought a break was worth a mile an hour to a coach. He replied, he thought it was worth two, and I have little doubt he was right over hilly roads, such as some which the "Hirondelle" travelled over.
It was to the system of turnpike trusts, now unfortunately no more, that this country is indebted for the general excellence of its roads, and against which I never heard more than two objections raised. One, that it was very unpleasant and annoying to be obliged to stop at the toll bars and pull out the money when the fingers were cold, and the other, that it was a very expensive method of collecting money. The first of these objections, I think, may be passed over in silence. It, no doubt, is unpleasant to do anything which requires the use of the fingers when they are cold, but surely that should not be held to be sufficient reason for putting an end to a system which in the main worked well. To the second a plea of guilty must be returned; but with mitigating circumstances. Indeed, there was no necessity for it at all, if the trustees had carried out their work well.
The "pikers," as they were called, did, no doubt, make a good living out of the business, but so do most middlemen, and they need not have been permitted to make an exorbitant profit. But before going further, perhaps, I had better explain what a "piker" is, as they, like the dodo, no longer exist. Well, then, they were a class of men who leased the turnpike tolls, each of them generally taking all the gates in a larger or smaller district. Sam Weller said they were "Misanthropes who levied tolls on mankind;" but, as a general rule, these men did not collect themselves, but employed others to do it, who resided in the houses. Of course, these "pikers," like other people, thought their first duty was to themselves, and they usually put their heads together previous to the lettings of the gates, and agreed to divide the spoils amicably, instead of bidding against one another. There was nothing, however, to prevent the trustees putting in collectors, the same as the pikers did, and by that means find out the real value of the tolls, and at the same time keep Mr. Piker up to the scratch. This, indeed, was often done, but when it was omitted, great losses were incurred, as I have found to my own advantage.
The tolls were not levied under the General Turnpike Act of Parliament, but under local Acts, and it was usual to insert in these local Acts a clause compelling coaches to pay toll both going and returning, even if drawn by the same horses. This, I think, was a decided hardship, but it was generally mitigated by the pikers allowing them to pay for only three horses instead of four, making six a day instead of eight, and this led to a contest which I once had with a piker.
At the first gate, a short distance out of Machynlleth, the lessee of it refused this concession to the "Harkaway" coach; therefore, when the day arrived for the annual letting, my partner and myself outbid him and took the gate, putting in a collector, and at the end of the year, after paying for the collecting, we had fifty pounds to divide between us. Now, I think I have shown that if proper care was taken by the trustees, no necessity existed, on this score, for abandoning the turnpike system, for in this one example they gratuitously threw away at least sixty pounds a year, which ought to have been available for repairing the roads.
In another trust on the same road, the trustees tried to be a little too sharp. As I have already said, the tolls were levied under local Acts, and in this case, the special clause relating to coaches had been, either intentionally or inadvertently, omitted, and we consequently claimed that the coach should, like all other conveyances, be exempted from paying if returning with the same horses. The trustees, however, contended that a public conveyance was liable to pay both ways, independently of a special clause to that effect. The question was referred to counsel's opinion, which was given in favour of the coach, and this so exasperated the trustees that they proceeded in hot haste to erect a new toll-gate to catch it after the change of horses.
In their hurry, however, they forgot that there were yet three months before the annual letting of the gates, and they found themselves face to face with the difficulty that no one could be persuaded to become a lessee for that short period.
In this dilemma, we coach proprietors stepped in, and,faute de mieux, were accepted as lessees, the result being that, instead of paying the toll at the end of the three months, we retired from the business with a profit of thirty shillings, after paying the expenses of collecting.
On the day following, the stables were changed to the other side of the gate, and the coach ran through free with a ticket from the previous one.
These seem small things to write about, but they afforded some interest and amusement at the time, and may be worth mentioning as being a sample of the life.
The turnpike system, no doubt, like all other human inventions, had its defects, but to it we are indebted for the excellence of our internal communications; and I cannot help thinking that it was unjust both to the bondholders and the ratepayers to allow it to die out. Though the former were fairly liable to the diminished value of their property caused by the rivalry of the railways, they, or those before them, had honestly lent their money upon the understanding that the Acts of Parliament would be renewed from time to time, and it was little short of robbery to allow them to expire. Hardships, no doubt, did exist in some districts from the excessive number of the toll gates, especially in Wales, where it was no uncommon thing to be called upon to pay at three gates in a distance of ten or twelve miles.
This was found so burdensome that it produced the Rebecca riots in South Wales, which led to the passing of an excellent Act for that part of the Principality, and if that Act had been extended to North Wales and England, the turnpike gates would, most probably, have been standing at the present day, and I know not who would have been losers by it, except the doctors and the timber merchants and other hauliers. At any rate, the cost of repairing the roads fell on those who enjoyed the benefit. The system, on the whole, worked well, and might easily have been made to work better, and I entertain no doubt, indeed, I know it, that large numbers of those who clamoured against it, would now recall it if possible. If it was expensive to collect the tolls, it appears to be impossible to collect a wheel and van tax.