HAIRBREADTH ESCAPES—DRIVES TO VALENCIENNES WITH FREDERICK YATES—MEET A DANCING BEAR—RESULT—WHEEL CARRIAGES IN TOWNS—STATE OF THE PUBLIC STREETS—GAY'S DESCRIPTION OF THEM—HACKNEY COACHES—TAYLOR, THE WATER POET—ROBBERIES IN LONDON—FIRST INTRODUCTION OF OMNIBUSES.
CHAPTER XVI.
In addition to the splendid turns-out of the members of the Coaching and Four-in-Hand Club, every cavalry regiment and many infantry corps possess a regimental "drag," which is always well horsed and usually well driven. During the time I served in the army such a thing was unknown, and the only opportunities officers had of driving were when travelling by stage-coach, or when a tandem was improvised in the barrack-yard.
Many a hairbreadth escape have I had from one of these breakneck vehicles. When at a private tutor's at Donnington, I and a young companion—alas! now no more—hired a tandem from Botham, of the "Pelican," Newbury, to take us to Reading. Safely should we havearrived there but for a drove of oxen which met us on our way. The result was the accident related in a previous chapter, and my ankle was dislocated.
My next attempt was when I was on the Staff of the Duke of Wellington, at Cambrai. Frederick Yates, then in the Commissariat Department, afterwards lessee of the Adelphi Theatre, was anxious, like myself, to visit an amateur performance by the officers stationed at Valenciennes; and it was arranged that we should drive over in my dennet, to which he was to add a leader.
All went well until we approached the plains of Denain, when a man leading a dancing bear so frightened our steeds that they set off at a gallop, overturning us in a dry ditch. Unfortunately for me, the handle of my sword, which I had stowed away in front of the apron, came in contact with my body and broke a rib; so, instead of enjoying my visit, I was laid up for a week at a not over-comfortable hotel. This was my second and last appearance in a tandem, and I strongly recommend those who value their limbs never to trust themselves to such a conveyance. In earlier days I have driven four horses many hundred miles on the roadand through the crowded streets of the metropolis, and never once came to grief.
Let me now refer to the use of wheel carriages in towns, which is not of very ancient date among the English people. During the reign of James I. the drivers of both public and private carriages had no other accommodation than a bar, or driver's chair, placed very low behind the horses; in the following reign they rode postilion fashion.
After the Restoration they appeared with whip and spurs, and towards the end of the century mounted a coachman's box. This box, covered with a hammer-cloth, was in reality a box, and within it, or in a leather pouch attached to it, were tools for mending broken wheels or shivered panels, in the event of accidents occurring, which were by no means uncommon; in consequence, first, of the defective construction of the vehicles, which, according to Davenant, were "uneasily hung, and so narrow that he took them for sedans on wheels;" in the second place, from the clumsy driving of carmen in the crowded thoroughfares; and, lastly and principally, from the nature of the streets themselves, full of all the worst perils a coachman could have to encounter. The state ofthe street ways, where the ruts lay half a yard deep, did not admit of rapid driving, and we read, even in the days of Charles II., of the Royal coach being upset twice in getting from the City to Westminster.
At this date, and for some generations after, the custom was, when ladies traversed the city in carriages, for the gentlemen gallants to accompany them on horseback, riding in advance, or on each side. These formed a body-guard, not at all unnecessary or superfluous, looking to the swarms of "scourers," "knights of the road," and "goshawks" who made free warren of London streets and scrupled at no act of violence. The picture Gay has left us of the street ways in the beginning of the eighteenth century will form some estimate of what they were at an earlier period:—
"Where a dim gleam the paly lantern throws,O'er the mid pavement heapy rubbish grows,Or arched vaults their gaping jaws extend,Or the dark caves to common shores descend;Oft by the winds, extinct the signal dies,Or smothered in the glimmering socket lies.Ere night has half rolled round her ebon throneIn the wide gulf, the shatter'd coach o'erthrownSinks with the snorting steeds; the reins are broke,And from the crackling axle flies the spoke."
"Where a dim gleam the paly lantern throws,O'er the mid pavement heapy rubbish grows,Or arched vaults their gaping jaws extend,Or the dark caves to common shores descend;Oft by the winds, extinct the signal dies,Or smothered in the glimmering socket lies.Ere night has half rolled round her ebon throneIn the wide gulf, the shatter'd coach o'erthrownSinks with the snorting steeds; the reins are broke,And from the crackling axle flies the spoke."
"Where a dim gleam the paly lantern throws,O'er the mid pavement heapy rubbish grows,Or arched vaults their gaping jaws extend,Or the dark caves to common shores descend;Oft by the winds, extinct the signal dies,Or smothered in the glimmering socket lies.Ere night has half rolled round her ebon throneIn the wide gulf, the shatter'd coach o'erthrownSinks with the snorting steeds; the reins are broke,And from the crackling axle flies the spoke."
"Where a dim gleam the paly lantern throws,
O'er the mid pavement heapy rubbish grows,
Or arched vaults their gaping jaws extend,
Or the dark caves to common shores descend;
Oft by the winds, extinct the signal dies,
Or smothered in the glimmering socket lies.
Ere night has half rolled round her ebon throne
In the wide gulf, the shatter'd coach o'erthrown
Sinks with the snorting steeds; the reins are broke,
And from the crackling axle flies the spoke."
The first hirable vehicles in London were the hackney-coaches, so called not from the village of Hackney, as commonly supposed, but from the old word "to hack," or let on hire. The first hackney-coaches were stout-built vehicles, fitted for the rough roads of the time; they made their appearance originally in 1625, and were kept at certain inns, where they had to be sent for when wanted, and these were only at this time twenty in number.
In a proclamation issued by Charles I., in 1635, the King prohibited the general and promiscuous use of hackney-coaches in London, Westminster, and their suburbs, as being "not only a great disturbance to His Majesty, his dearest consort the Queen, the nobility, and others of place and degree, but the streets were so pestered and the pavements broken up that the common passage was thereby hindered." It was therefore commanded that "no hired coaches should be used in London except to travel three miles out of the same."
Two years after the foregoing prohibition the King granted a licence for fifty hackney-coachmen in and about London and Westminster, tokeep twelve horses each. This licence was extended to other cities and towns. In course of time the increase of street carriages called forth the indignation of Taylor the water-poet. What would that renowned king of scullers, whose wonted boast was that he had often ferried Shakspeare from Whitehall to Paris Garden, and Ben Jonson from Bankside to the Rose and Hope playhouses, have said had he lived in the present days? Probably the poor water rhymer would have drowned himself in his own element, or at least would have drowned his cares in a more spirited mixture. What a fearful picture did he draw of the calamity that assailed his trade!
"We poor watermen have not the least cause to complain against any conveyance that belongs to persons of worth or quality, but only against the caterpillar swarm of hirelings. They have undone my poor trade, whereof I am a member. This swarm of trade spoilers, like grasshoppers or caterpillars of Egypt, have so overrun the land that we can get no living on the water; for every day, if the Court be at Whitehall, they do rob us of our livings, and carry five hundred and sixty fares daily from us. I pray you but note the streets and the chambers orlodgings in Fleet Street or the Strand, how they are pestered with coaches, especially after a masque or play at Court, where even the very earth shakes and trembles, the casements shatter, totter, patter, and clatter, and such a confused noise is made that a man can neither sleep, speak, hear, write, nor eat his dinner or supper quiet for them; besides, their tumbling din, like counterfeit thunder, doth sour wine, beer, and ale, almost abominally, to the impairing of their healths that drink it, and the making of many a victualler's trade fallen."
In a publication entitled "The Thief," Taylor writes:—
"Carroches, coaches, jades, and Flanders mares,Do rob us of our shares, our wants, our fares;Against the ground we stand, and knock our heelsWhilst all our profit runs away on wheels."
"Carroches, coaches, jades, and Flanders mares,Do rob us of our shares, our wants, our fares;Against the ground we stand, and knock our heelsWhilst all our profit runs away on wheels."
"Carroches, coaches, jades, and Flanders mares,Do rob us of our shares, our wants, our fares;Against the ground we stand, and knock our heelsWhilst all our profit runs away on wheels."
"Carroches, coaches, jades, and Flanders mares,
Do rob us of our shares, our wants, our fares;
Against the ground we stand, and knock our heels
Whilst all our profit runs away on wheels."
The London shopkeepers, too, bitterly complained.
"Formerly," they said, "when ladies and gentlemen walked in the streets there was a chance of obtaining customers to inspect and purchase our commodities; but now they whisk past in the coaches before our apprentices have time to cry out 'What d'ye lack?'"
Taylor above referred to, does not appear to have entertained a very high opinion of the tradesmen of his day, for he writes:—
"When Queen Elizabeth came to the crowne,A coach in England then was scarcely knowne.Then 'twas as rare to see one as to spyeA tradesman that had never told a lie."
"When Queen Elizabeth came to the crowne,A coach in England then was scarcely knowne.Then 'twas as rare to see one as to spyeA tradesman that had never told a lie."
"When Queen Elizabeth came to the crowne,A coach in England then was scarcely knowne.Then 'twas as rare to see one as to spyeA tradesman that had never told a lie."
"When Queen Elizabeth came to the crowne,
A coach in England then was scarcely knowne.
Then 'twas as rare to see one as to spye
A tradesman that had never told a lie."
Hackney-coaches were admitted into Hyde Park before the year 1694, but were expelled at that period, through the singular circumstance of some persons of distinction having been insulted by several women in masks; riding there in that description of vehicle.
In 1728, the robberies were so frequent in the streets of London, Westminster, and parts adjacent, that Lord Townshend issued a notice offering a reward of £40 "for each felon convict returned from transportation before the expiration of the term for which he or she was transported, who shall, by the means of such discovery, be brought to condign punishment." It appears by the above, that the murders, beatings, and robberies were perpetrated in a great degree by returned convicts, Hackney-coaches being their special mark, as the following paragraph which appeared in the "Postman"of the 19th of October, 1728, will prove:—
"The persons authorised by Government to employ men to drive hackney-coaches, have made great complaints for want of trade, occasioned by the increase of street robbers; so that people, especially in an evening, choose rather to walk than to ride in a coach, on account that they are in a readier posture to defend themselves, or call out for help if attacked. Meantime, it is apparent that, whereas a figure for driving of an hackney-coach used lately to be sold for about £60, besides paying the usual duties to the Commissioners for licensing, they are at this time, for the reasons aforesaid, sold for £3 per figure goodwill."
The conveyance now known as the omnibus was borrowed from our Continental neighbours, for it was in existence in France two centuries ago. Its rise and progress may not prove uninteresting. Carriages on hire had long been established in Paris, and were let out by the day or hour from the sign of St. Fiacre.
In 1662 a Royal decree of Louis XIV. authorised the establishment of acarrosse à cinq sous, got by a company, with the Duke deRohan and two other noblemen at the head of it. The decree stated that these conveyances, of which there were originally seven, built to carry eight persons, should run at fixed hours, full or empty, to and from the extreme parts of Paris; the object being to convey those who could not afford to hire carriages.
The public inauguration of the new vehicles took place on the 18th of March, 1662, and was attended with much state. Three of the coaches started from the Porte St. Antoine, and four from the Luxembourg. Previous to their setting out, the principal legal functionary addressed the drivers, pointing out to them their duties to the public. After this harangue, the procession started, escorted by cavalry, the infantry lined the streets to keep them clear.
Writers disagree as to the reception these conveyances met with. Sauval, in his Antiquities of Paris, affirms that the populace hooted the drivers and broke the windows of the carriages with stones; while, on the other hand, Madame Perrier, sister to Pascal, describes the joy with which these "twopenny-halfpenny busses" were received.
It appears, too, that the King took a tripin one at St. Germain, and apièce de circonstancewas got up at the Théâtre Marais, entitled "L'Intrigue des Carrosses à Cinq Sous." Strange to say, when the fashionable Parisians ceased to patronise the omnibus, it went completely out of favour, as the poorer class declined to travel in it. Hence the company failed.
In 1827 a society entitled "Entreprise Générale des Omnibus" again introduced the system, which was thus alluded to in the newspapers of 1829:—
"The omnibus is a long coach, carrying fifteen or eighteen people, all inside. Of these carriages there were about half-a-dozen some months ago, and they have been augmented since; their profits are said to have repaid the outlay within the first year; the proprietors, among whom is M. Lafitte, the banker, are making a large revenue out of Parisian sous, and speculation is still alive."
During the struggle of the three days in July, 1830, the accidental upsetting of one of these vehicles suggested an idea that barricades could be formed out of a number of them; and this plan was tried and followed out.
Shortly after the introduction of the omnibusin Paris, a public-spirited individual started two of these carriages in London, which ran from the Bank of England to the Yorkshire Stingo, in the New-road, and were called "Shillibeers," after the introducer. Each of these vehicles carried twenty-two passengers inside, with only the driver and conductor outside; each omnibus was drawn by three horses, abreast, and the fare was one shilling for the whole distance, and sixpence for half. Since that time the fares have been considerably lowered, and outside passengers are taken.
AN ADVENTURE WITH BALL HUGHES, COMMONLY CALLED "THE GOLDEN BALL"—A SENSATION AT DARTFORD—A RELIC OF THE COMMUNE—RAILWAYS—PIONEERS OF THE RAIL—INTRODUCTION OF STEAM-CARRIAGES ON ROADS—SEDAN CHAIRS—PADDY'S PRACTICAL JOKE—FEUDS BETWEEN CHAIRMEN AND HACKNEY-COACHMEN.
CHAPTER XVII.
An adventure which occurred to me some fifty years ago may not here be out of place. I was dining one day with Ball Hughes, commonly, from his wealth, called "The Golden Ball," when the conversation turned upon Paris.
"What say you to going there?" he asked.
"I should like it much," I replied.
"Send for Guy," continued he, addressing the butler; "and help yourself to claret, we shall not have much time to spare."
Before I could express my surprise, Guy, the coachman, entered the room.
"Have the travelling-chariot with the four bays round in half-an-hour, and send theseats and imperial into my room to be packed. By the way," he proceeded, turning to me, "you will want some one to go and tell your servant to bring your clothes, we shall return in a week."
"Are you in earnest?" I inquired, somewhat taken aback at this hasty movement.
"Quite," he answered; "pass the bottle; and, John, take the small front imperial to Lord William's lodgings in Pall Mall, tell his servant to pack it up, and we will call for it on our way."
In half-an-hour the carriage was at the door; we took our seats, the faithful valet ascended the rumble, and the order was given,
"Make the best of your way to Dartford, call as you go by at No. 4, Pall Mall."
It was a lovely evening in July, and despite of having all the windows down we felt greatly oppressed with heat.
"What say you to riding?" inquired my companion; "pull up, boys."
"I am not in trim for riding," I replied, "with these thin white trousers, shoes, andsilk stockings; my legs will be awfully chafed."
"Never mind, my good fellow, we will go as slow as you please, and you shall have your choice, short or long traces."
The postilions had alighted, and, having borrowed their whips, we exchanged places, and in less time than I can describe it the Golden Ball was mounted on a high-stepping thoroughbred leader, while I was piloting two as handsome wheelers as ever trotted their twelve miles an hour.
No event worthy of record occurred upon the road. It is true that the pole occasionally reminded my brother postilion that the traces were slack, that we grazed a carrier's cart upon entering Deptford, that we frightened an itinerant vendor of apples and pears as we dashed over Blackheath, and, finally, that we upset a one-horse chaise standing in the High Street of the town identified with Pigou and gunpowder.
As we drove up to the door of the "Bull Inn" we found, to our great horror, a crowd assembled in front of it.
"Pull up!" I bellowed at the top of my voice.
"I can't," responded my friend.
"Then turn in down the yard. Take a good sweep, or we shall upset the carriage."
We did turn in with no greater damage than carrying away a wooden post, breaking a lamp, rubbing a piece of skin off the near leader, and tearing his rider's Hessian boot.
A cheer was then heard from the assembled crowd. We jumped off our horses, gave them up to the two postilions, who had hastily descended from the carriage, and made our way to the entrance, where the landlord, landlady, waiter, and ostler stood, looking as much astonished as the inhabitants of Edmonton did when Johnny Gilpin made his appearance in that town. Unfortunately Cowper was not with us to immortalise our adventure.
"Can we have four horses immediately?" asked Ball Hughes, in his blandest manner.
"The packet starts early for Calais."
"First and second turn out!" shouted the ostler, while mine host could scarcely repress a smile.
Anéclaircissementtook place when it appearedthat Queen Caroline, the ill-fated wife of the Fourth George, had been expected; that some Dartford Paul Pry had caught a view of the gold embroidered velvet jackets and caps of the postilions, and had given the signal for the cheers, mistaking the inmates of the carriage for at least Lord Hood in his Chamberlain's dress, Sir Matthew Wood in his Aldermanic gown, or Her Majesty herself decked out in Royal attire. Finding we could not reach Dover in time for the boat to Calais we stopped for the night at the "Rose," Sittingbourne.
I have already referred to the French omnibus; and it may not be here out of place to record an instance of the light-heartedness of our Continental neighbours, who instead of erasing a most painful episode in the history of their country from their minds, appear to perpetuate it, as will be seen by the following statement extracted from one of their own journals:—
"The Parisian Omnibus Company has preserved a curious relic of the late Commune in the shape of an omnibus which the Communists used for one of their barricades, and which was riddled through the street fights between the Versailles troops and the insurgents by as manyas eight hundred shots or bomb-shell splinters. The coachman's box is broken, and only one wheel hangs on to the vehicle."
I have now given theagrémensanddésagrémensof coaching, and have come to the conclusion that all unprejudiced persons would prefer the rail to the road, especially those to whom time and money are objects. A man may now breakfast in London and dine in Dublin, and this journey can be performed at (as compared with former charges) a very considerable reduction.
Pullman's cars, now confined to the Midland, and partly to the Brighton line, will soon become universal. Then a night journey will be free from exertion, and after a good night's rest the traveller will find himself some hundred miles from the place of departure. Those, too, who indulge in "sublime tobacco," whether in the shape of a meerschaum, brier, clay pipe, a mild Havannah cigar, or a Latakia cigarette, can smoke in a covered carriage, instead as of old on the outside of a mail coach, amidst a pelting, pitiless storm. However, as tastes differ, there will always be a certain number of old stagers who, denouncing steam, will talk with rapture of the palmy days of the road, andof their delight when they went "coaching, a long time ago."
Railways were originally formed altogether of timber, and it was not until 1767 that the first experiment was tried, and that upon a very small scale, to determine the advantage of substituting iron for the less durable material. Nor does it appear that this experiment was successful, or followed by any practical result, for in 1797 Mr. Carr claimed to be considered the inventor of cast-iron rails.
The railways which were constructed up to the beginning of 1800 were all private undertakings, and each was confined to the use of the establishment—generally a colliery—in which it was employed. The public railways of the United Kingdom are strictly creations of the present century. Here I may remark that as early as the year 1216 the idea of applying the power of steam to locomotion first suggested itself. Roger Bacon, a Franciscan friar, who flourished during the reign of Henry III., foretold that ships would some day move without sails, and carriages without horses; and though his scientific researches were not duly appreciated in his own times, he may fairly take rankwith the greatest pioneers of modern discovery.
In the days of Charles II., Edward Somerset, Earl of Glamorgan and Marquis of Worcester, invented and constructed the first steam-engine. His title to this honour has been the subject of dispute, some historians attributing to him a greater share of merit than there was sufficient evidence to warrant, while others deprive him of even that honour to which he possesses an indefeasible claim. Possessing inventive genius of the highest order, he was considered a mad enthusiast, because his speculations were advanced so far before the age in which he lived, and he has been set down as a quack and impostor by men incapable of comprehending the nature or appreciating the value of his creations.
The slow march of knowledge and of time has at last revealed the worth and established the character of an illustrious and unfortunate man of genius, who only lived to complete his mighty design and carry it happily into effect. Macaulay thus refers to the Marquis of Worcester:—
"The Marquis had observed the expansive power of moisture rarefied by heat. After manyexperiments, he had succeeded in constructing a rude steam-engine, which he called a fire-waterwork, and which he pronounced to be an admirable and most forcible instrument of propulsion."
But the Marquis was suspected to be a madman, and known to be a Papist, his inventions therefore found no favourable reception. His fire-waterwork might, perhaps, furnish matter for conversation at a meeting of the Royal Society, but was not applied to any practical purpose.
The next engine was invented by Captain Savery, in 1698, for the purpose of raising water by the help of fire. Newcomen came next, followed by James Watt.
And here I must pay a passing tribute to the inventive genius and wonderful discoveries of James Watt, to whom, perhaps, more than to any other man, the world is indebted for the beneficial results which have flown from the development of steam power.
Some six hundred years after Roger Bacon's prophecy, another prophet arose. In 1804, so writes a popular author, "George Stephenson was a poor labourer, his son Robert lying in his cradle; then the stage-coach dragged alongits weary course at about five miles an hour, and a letter posted in London would reach Edinburghperhapsin a week. In 1824 the father said to the son:—
"I tell you what I think, my lad. You will live to see the day, though I may not, when railroads will supersede all other modes of conveyance; when mail coaches will go by railway, and railways become the great highway for the King and his subjects. The time is coming when it will be cheaper for a working man to travel by railway than to walk on foot."
A bold, a daring, but a great social and patriotic prediction: both father and son lived to see it fulfilled. These wonderful changes have been brought about through the perseverance of a quintuple alliance—the Stephensons, Brunels, and Locke—of each of whom it may be said, if you seek his monument, "Look not at the place of his birth, his abode, or his death, but survey his works throughout the greater part of the habitable globe."
In 1824 the first locomotive constructed by George Stephenson travelled at the rate of six miles an hour; in 1829 the "Rocket" travelled at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, and obtainedthe prize of five hundred pounds offered by the directors of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway Company for the best locomotive.
In 1834 the "Firefly" attained a speed of twenty miles an hour; and at the present moment locomotives have increased their speed to over sixty miles an hour. Merciless ridicule attended the introduction of railway travelling; and in reference to a proposed line between London and Woolwich, a writer in the "Quarterly Review" not only backed "Old Father Thames" against it for any sum, but assured his readers that the people of Woolwich "would as soon suffer themselves to be fired off upon one of Congreve's ricochet rockets as trust themselves to the mercy of such a machine—a high-pressure engine, and going at the rate of eighteen miles an hour."
The reviewer adds that he trusts Parliament will limit the speed of railways to eight or nine miles an hour, which is as great as can be ventured upon with safety. Despite this prediction, the rail, as we all know, has proved a perfect success.
When railways were first proposed, in orderto prove to Parliament that they would pay, persons called "traffic takers" were placed at the entrance of large towns to note down the traffic in and out of the town. When the Brighton and South Coast line was before the House of Commons, and evidence was given as to the existing traffic, the counsel for the company suggested that they might be allowed fairly to say that this would be doubled, when increased means of travelling were afforded. This seems ludicrous now, when probably one train of passengers and one of goods carries considerably more than the above estimate.
Many ineffectual attempts have been made to introduce steam-carriages on the roads, and in 1822 Mr. (afterwards Sir) Goldsworthy Gurney—inventor of the steam-jet, emphatically called by engineers "the life and soul of locomotion"—constructed a carriage for that purpose. To show that it was capable of ascending and descending hills, of maintaining a uniformity of speed over long distances and on different kinds of roads, a journey was undertaken from Hounslow Barracks to Bath and back. On arriving at Melksham, where a fair was being held, the people made an attack upon the steam-carriage,wounding the stoker and the engineer severely on their heads from a volley of stones. The return journey was more satisfactory, as the whole distance (eighty-four miles), stoppages for fire and water included, was travelled over in nine hours and twenty minutes, the carriage at one time increasing its speed to twenty miles an hour. The Duke of Wellington and his staff met the carriage at Hounslow Barracks, and were drawn in his Grace's barouche by the steam-engine into the town.
From February to June, 1831, steam-carriages ran between Gloucester and Cheltenham regularly four times a day, during which time they carried nearly three thousand persons and travelled nearly four thousand miles, without a single accident. Every obstacle, however, was thrown in the way of this new invention; large heaps of stones were laid across the road eighteen inches deep, under the pretence of repairing the highway; and on an Act of Parliament being passed which imposed prohibitory tolls on turnpike trusts, the steam-carriage was driven off the road.
On the journey to Bath above referred to, the toll for the steam-carriage was six guineas each time of passing. About this period ColonelSir James Viney patronised a Mr. Pocock and the making of kites for the purpose of drawing a carriage, but these paper horses were ungovernable, particularly in a storm, and Sir John gave them up for a couple of ponies, which, in truth, were almost as wayward.
One conveyance alone remains to which I have not referred—the sedan chair, named after the town of Sedan, in France. In early days I well remember a very gorgeous specimen of the above, emblazoned with the family arms, which used to convey my mother to evening parties; and as late as the year 1834 I have often, at Leamington, Edinburgh, and Bath, made use of a sedan chair to take me to dinner. One advantage this conveyance had over a carriage was that, upon a snowy or rainy night, you could enter it under cover and get out of it in your Amphitryon's hall. Occasionally it was used by young spendthrifts against whom writs were out, as it enabled them to avoid the sheriff's officers. It was not always, however, a safe refuge, as Hogarth, in one of his prints, represents a tipstaff seizing hold of some debtor he was in search of.
Early in the present century a very clever caricature appeared, in which an Irishman wasseen wending his way through dirt and slush, his legs and feet obtruding from a sedan chair—some waggish practical joker (the Theodore Hook of that day) having removed the bottom of it. Two stout chairmen, aware of the trick that had been played upon their inside passenger, are selecting the dirtiest streets, or most flinty part of the road, while the unfortunate Emeralder exclaims:
"Bedad! if it was not for the honour of the thing, I would as lief walk."
The costume of the chairmen at Bath was very peculiar: they wore long, light-blue coats highly ornamented with buttons about the size of a crown piece, the skirts of which reached down to their ankles; short "inexpressibles," white cotton stockings, shoes with buckles, and a huge cocked hat bound with gold lace. They were fine, powerful men, with calves to their legs which would have made the fortune of any fashionable footman. "When sedan-chairs were first introduced, a great feud arose between the chairmen and the hackney-coachmen, which led to many serious disturbances. The contest was carried on with the greatest bitterness; and the hatred it engendered was equal to that of the Montagues and Capulets, the Guelphsand the Ghibellines, the Red and White Roses; eventually, through the interference of the law, peace was restored.
Wilson thus refers to the sedan-chair named after Sedan on the Meuse. In his Life of James I., this passage, in speaking of the Earl of Northumberland, occurs: "The stout old Earl, when he was got loose (he had been imprisoned), hearing that the great favourite, Buckingham, was drawn about with a coach and six horses (which was wondered at then as a novelty, and imputed to him as a mastering pride), thought, if Buckingham had six, he might very well have eight in his coach; with which he rode through the city of London to Bath, to the vulgar talk and admiration; and, recovering his health there, he lived long after at Petworth in Sussex; bating this over-topping humour, which shewed it rather an affected fit than a distemper.
"Nor did this addition of two horses, by Buckingham, grow higher than a little murmur. For in the late Queen's time (Elizabeth), there were no coaches, and the First Lord had but two horses; the rest crept in by degrees, as men at first ventured to sea. And every new thing the people disaffect, they stumble at;sometimes at the action of the parties, which rises like a little cloud, but soon vanishes.
"So after, when Buckingham came to be carried in a chair upon men's shoulders, the clamour and noise of it was so extravagant that the people would rail on him in the streets, loathing that men should be brought to as servile a condition as horses; so irksome is every little new impression that breaks an old custom, and rubs and grates against the public humour; but when time had made those chairs common, every minion used them; so that that which gave at first so much scandal was the means to convey those privately to such places, where they might give much more. Just like long hair, at one time described as abominable—another time approved of as beautiful."
ANCIENT AND MODERN VEHICLES—PRACTICAL JOKES IN ENGLAND AND FRANCE—FRENCH COACHES—DILIGENCES—THE MALLE-POSTE—CARRIAGES IN THE REIGN OF LOUIS XIV.—PORTE FLAMBEAUX—QUARRELS BETWEEN RIVAL COACHMEN—AN ENGLISH STAGE-COACH IN FRANCE—CONCLUSION.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Few of my readers will remember the old hackney-coaches, and fortunate are they who live at a period when they can be driven about the metropolis and throughout all the principal towns in hansom cabs and "four-wheelers." The old hackney-coach was usually a broken-down, rickety vehicle, that had evidently seen better days; it usually bore the arms and crest of some noble family; the lining, torn and faded, showed signs of former grandeur, as did the harness, now patched and tied together with string. The horses looked more fit to furnish a meal for a pack of hungry foxhounds than to go through their daily work. The coachman, becaped and bebooted, was a long time descending from and ascending his box, and when seated there it required a largeamount of "ge-upping" and "go-alonging," with the additional aid of whipping, to get his half-starved, broken-down animals into a trot.
What a contrast to the Hansom of the present day, which, generally speaking, is clean, admirably horsed, and well driven, so much so that the driver of a well-appointed two-wheeler, like Tom Tug, in "The Waterman," "is never in want of afare!" Would that I could say the same of the four-wheeler! There are some exceptions; but the majority savour too much of the old hackney-coach to merit a eulogium.
Practical jokes have often been played by persons representing highwaymen for the time being; a most memorable one was practised by the celebrated John Mytton, of Halston.
Upon one occasion, a neighbouring clergyman was invited to dine at the Squire's, as Mytton was called, and in the course of the evening, the conversation turned upon the knights of the road. Whether this casual topic gave the idea to the arch-hoaxer, or that the affair was premeditated, I know not, but it was shortly carried out. After a quiet rubber of whist, the Reverendgentleman's carriage was announced, and he took his departure.
He had not proceeded a hundred yards beyond the lodge-gate, when all of a sudden the carriage stopped, and a man with a black crape over his face presented a pistol, exclaiming,
"Your money or your life," his companion, equally disguised, catching hold of the horses.
Unarmed, and alone, resistance was in vain, he, therefore, gave his purse to the marauder.
"This won't do," said the man. "I must have your watch."
"Spare that," beseechingly implored the clergyman. "It is of little value to anyone but myself, and was the gift of a beloved mother."
"No time for sentiment," continued the other, "you must hand it out," at the same time cocking the pistol.
The valued gift now changed hands, and the Reverend gentleman was allowed to proceed to his home in safety.
Early the next morning he applied to a magistratefor assistance, and proceeded to Halston to inform Mytton of the disgraceful state of the country, when a man could be robbed within a few yards of his lodge.
"I'll send for the constable," said Mytton, "a reward shall be offered, and no exertion shall be wanting on my part to trace the scoundrel and get your property restored."
The clergyman was brimming over with gratitude, when the Squire continued.
"Come and dine here to-morrow, and I'll send an escort home with you. My keeper and a watcher will be more than a match for any two rascals that infest the road."
The invitation was accepted, and in the meantime every exertion was made by the magistrate to discover the offenders. During dinner, the conversation naturally turned upon the bare-faced robbery.
"I did not mind the fellows taking my money," said the victim. "Albeit I could not well afford to lose it, but what I felt deeply was the loss of my watch. I would give any sum in my power to recover it."
At that moment the second course was put on the table, for at the time I write ofdîners à la Russewere unknown, and a largedish with a cover over it was placed before the host.
"I wish," said Mytton, addressing his clerical friend, "you would kindly carve the pheasants. I sprained my wrist out hunting last week, and if I attempt the job, it will be a case of 'mangling done here.'"
The dish was removed and placed before the clergyman, and upon the cover being taken off, great was the delight and surprise of the victim to find his purse and watch occupying the place of the far-famed bird of Colchis.
An angry look at the perpetrator of this practical joke was soon transformed into a smile, for the delight of recovering the watch made him ample compensation for the anxiety of mind he had suffered.
A hoax similar in some degree was practised in France on the Baron de Bezenval.
This well-known nobleman was in 1788 on a visit at the house of M. de Bercheni, beyond La Ferté-sous-Jouare, an estate now belonging to the family of Castellane. It was the latter end of Autumn. Some bold poachers already disturbed the sport. The wind blew violently, and strewed the ground with leaves; the morningswere misty, the nights long, gloomy, and cold; but gloom never approached the place that the Baron inhabited. Theaprès-dînerhad been excessively merry, and all the company had gradually retired. M. de Bezenval had announced his departure, and being almost the only guest in the room, took leave of the mistress of the house.
"I hope to see you again soon," said he.
"I hope so too," replied the lady with courtesy.
He took his departure, and soon fell asleep in his post-chaise, wrapped up in thick fur. He was suddenly roused from his slumbers by a violent shaking. The postilion had been knocked off his horse, a number of armed men surrounded the vehicle, and their leader, whose face was blackened, seizing the Baron, presented a pistol to his breast.
"Sir," said the Baron, "your men do not know how to behave themselves—they should at least have given me time to draw my hunting-knife."
Without favouring him with a reply, they stripped him—his cane, rings, snuff-boxes of lapis-lazuli, and his two watches and chainsdecked with gems were wrested from him.
"Are you content?" cried Bezenval.
"No," replied they, "the chaise is ours, as all the rest; get out of it."
He alighted, and the brigands dispersed, one only mounting one of the horses, and driving off at a gallop.
"Valentine, what is to be done?" said the Baron to his servant.
"I really do not know," replied the latter; "perhaps the wisest step is to go back to the château."
Thither they turned, and two hours of most fatiguing walking brought them to it. The gates were open, there were no servants in the courts, and none in the ante-rooms. He entered the drawing-room, and not a soul was in it. But what did his eyes first fall upon? His two watches and their chains were hanging to the chimney-piece! Whilst he was gazing on them, immense shouts of laughter arose, and the bandits of quality crowded into the room in their several disguises. Such was the method devised to bring back the agreeable Baron de Bezenval.
Having described coaching in England, it may not be uninteresting to give a brief noticeof French coaching. It is now two hundred years ago that La Fontaine wrote the following lines, which began his fable "La Coche et la Mouche:—"
"Dans un chemin, montant, sablonneux, malaisé,Et de tous les côtés au soleil exposé,Six forts chevaux tiroient une coche."
"Dans un chemin, montant, sablonneux, malaisé,Et de tous les côtés au soleil exposé,Six forts chevaux tiroient une coche."
"Dans un chemin, montant, sablonneux, malaisé,Et de tous les côtés au soleil exposé,Six forts chevaux tiroient une coche."
"Dans un chemin, montant, sablonneux, malaisé,
Et de tous les côtés au soleil exposé,
Six forts chevaux tiroient une coche."
At that time public and private vehicles had not yet undergone any very notable improvements. When an inhabitant of Bordeaux or Maçon took his departure for Paris he made his will, leaving among other things "son corps à la diligence."
Eighty years previous, in the middle of the sixteenth century, private vehicles were not very numerous, if we judge by the predicament in which Henry IV., King of France and Navarre, found himself when he wrote to Sully, "Je n'ai pas pu aller vous voir hier, ma femme ayant pris ma coche." Thatcochewhich we in England still call coach, and the driver of which has obtained the name of coacher—coachman was eithercoche de terreor acoche d'eau, both conveying travellers and goods. The coche d'Auxerre alone survived in France until our days. The steamboatshave sunk it, in despite of its heroic resistance. It was only in the first year of the seventeenth century thatcochesorvoitures, were first ornamented, and provided with leather braces; they then assumed the generic name ofcarrosses, derived fromcharandcharrette.
It would occupy too much space to write a history of their transformations and successive improvements, and to follow step by step the aristocratic succession of the carrosse, calêche, berline, landau, dormeuse, char-à-banc, demi-fortune, vis-à-vis, coupé, not omitting the cabriolet, phaeton, boguey, tilbury, kibitka, britzska, and other vehicles of the young fashion of all times. The public vehicles have made slower progress. Thediligenceslong continued worthy of their grandfathers thecoches, and were very unworthy of their new name.
At the beginning of the present century, in which everything now moves on so rapidly, two days and a night were still required to pass from Paris to Orleans. Travellers slept on the road at Etampes or Pithiviers, a spot rendered immortal by Perlet's admirable personification in "Le Comédien d'Etampes;" hotel living, with its good fare and bad beds, being preferred to highroad living, with its obligato accompanimentof broken down cattle, rickety coaches, and highwaymen armed to the teeth. The diligences gave birth to the messageries, chaises, chaises-de-poste, and at a later period to the malle-postes, which, however, did not prevent certain provinces from enjoying a sort of progeniture of ancient coches, under the various names of voiturines, guimbardes, carrioles, and other instruments of torture, which enabled the traveller to accomplish easily, as the saying went, "twenty leagues in fifteen days."
After that the realdiligences, the realmessageries, attained a degree of comfort for which the public were most grateful. To frequent changes and improvement of the horses were added the comfort of the vehicle; and last, not least, the lowness of the prices. Themalle-postes, destined for the more rapid conveyance of letters, and at the same time of travellers eager to get over their journey quickly—thanks to the attention of the administration—were rendered admirably adapted to the public service, the primary object of their establishment, and to the private service of those who wished for comfort in their travels.
Thecaissecontaining the despatches, the high station occupied behind by the courrier-conducteurof the mail, thecaissereserved for travellers, the shape and size of which varied according to the seasons, and the comfortable seat for the passengers, deserved every praise. What could a traveller in those days, when steam was not in prospective existence, desire more than to travel from Paris to Bayonne, two hundred leagues, in fifty-six hours? The humbler history of thefiacrealso deserves to have a place here. Thecarrossegave birth to thefiacrein the seventeenth century. That was the first coach devoted to public use.
I have already said that the head-quarters of these vehicles were in Rue St. Antoine, Paris, and were called "carrosses à cinq sous," five sous being the price for the hour. Thefiacreslong had a bad name, and not undeservedly so. Who does not remember, even in our days, the wretched equipages that stood on the rank? Who has not had, at least once in his life, a quarrel with the drivers, often more vicious than their cattle? The cabriolets for town and country, and thecoucous, were scarcely superior in any respect, as many have wofully experienced.
Times, however, have altered, and, duringthe last few years incredible improvements have taken place, not only in the vehicles, but also in the horses and their drivers. Transformations almost as wonderful as that of Cinderella's fairy carriage have been effected. The carriages are better constructed and suspended, and are arranged more comfortably inside. The creation, too, of one-horse coupés (broughams) has successfully provided for the wants of the public, and at the present time a vast number of new companies, under various names, have vied in skill and conferred upon the people vehicles of tasteful shapes, horses in good condition, totally unlike therossesof former days, harness neat, drivers in uniform liveries, and above all, civil and attentive.
To complete this sketch, let me pay a parting tribute to the Parisian omnibus, that accommodating carriage which takes you up at all hours, at every moment, in the street or at your door, and carries you without any delay to any street or door you wish to alight at—sociable vehicles which, for the trifling sum of thirty centimes, convey you two leagues from the Barrière de l'Etoile to that of the Trône, and fromthe Madelaine to the Place de la Bastille.
Would that I had space to review all the varieties of that obliging vehicle, which, it is said, appeared at Nantes, before it invaded the streets, quays, and boulevards of the capital! Were I to enumerate the "Hirondelles," "Favorites," "Dames Françaises," "Parisiennes," "Beauvaises," "Orléannaises," &c., and point out all their graces and charms, it would lead me on to the history of locomotion by conveyance, and the celebration of steam, steamboats, railroads, trains, and their marvellous rapidity.
Let me conclude with this observation—namely, that the number of vehicles of all sorts which were wont daily to circulate in the streets of Paris exceeded sixty-one thousand; the cabriolets, hackney-coaches, diligences, and omnibusses—or, as the erudite coachman called them omnibii—amounted, out of the above number, to twenty thousand. What they are at this present moment I have no means of ascertaining.
At the commencement of the seventeenth century there were not fifty carriages to be seen in Paris; in the reign of Louis XIV.all the world possessed them, as they would have been unable to present themselves at court. No longer could they go to the Palace on horses, although the privilege was still allowed to certain Members of Parliament. This, however, ceased entirely about the middle of the reign of Louis XIV.
The adoption of this general use of wheel carriages produced a great change in the habits of social life, and had much influence on the political state of the country. The state of public roads, which the necessity of travelling on horseback imposes, must immediately influence all military movements and all communication of intelligence, must triple the expense of all commercial transfers, and prevent, or render difficult, all merely social meetings, except between the nearest neighbours.
When Laporte, thevalet de chambreto Anne of Austria, tells us that in the Winter of the year 1636, between Piteaux and Paris, on the route of Orleans, the road was so bad that the Queen was obliged to sleep in her carriage because neither the mulesnor carts that carried her baggage could possibly arrive, we may conceive how little Winter travelling there could have been in France.
Although coaches were already known and used in Paris, they were so unlike the modern vehicles of the same name that the pleasures, engagements, and assignations of the young men were still pursued on horseback.
A printed paper is yet extant in the Royal, or rather Republican Library at Paris, announcing in all its details to the public the establishment by Government ofporte-flambeauxandporte-lanternes; persons provided with them were to be posted at the Louvre, the Palais de Justice, and in other public places at Paris.
These extempore illuminations must have been very necessary in the streets of a great town still frequented by horsemen, where no aid of light was derived either from the doors of private houses or the windows of shops; the habitual darkness only made more visible from the occasional flambeaux carried before some persons of distinction by their own servants, or accompanying their coach.
This establishment ofporte-flambeaux, which was to take place in October, 1662, was announced with all the forms of a long preamble, and surrounded with all the exclusive privileges which could have accompanied the most important measure of internal government. It furnished a curious example of the minute details into which the hierarchy of despotic power had already entered in France. It called itself "The establishment ofporte-flambeaux, orporte-lanternes, for the town and suburbs of Paris, and other towns, by letters patent of the King, approved of by Parliament, and the prices regulated by this august body."
Then follows the orders, which forbid anybody from carrying a "link," or "lantern," without an express permission from the individual who has obtained this privilege from the king, to the exclusion of all others, under pain of a thousand francs (£40) penalty. The price fixed for the hire of aporte-lanternewas three sous a quarter of an hour, for persons who went on foot; for those who went in carriages five sous.
The public are then assured that the convenience of being able to go out at night with lightswill prove such a boon to all, more especially to men of business and in trade, that the streets will be more frequented, much to the discomfiture of thieves and vagabonds. To nightly depredators, the darkness of the streets must have been very favourable, as we ourselves know it is in London during a dense fog. Thus we see Boileau makes one of the torments of a town life the dread of thieves: