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THE HOLYHEAD ROAD
[Illustration: THE “WONDER,” LONDON AND SHREWSBURY COACH. _From a
Print after J. Pollard._]
THE HOLYHEAD ROAD:/ THE MAIL-COACH ROAD TO DUBLIN
By CHARLES G. HARPER
Author of “_The Brighton Road_,” “_The Portsmouth Road_,” “_The Dover
Road_,” “_The Bath Road_,” “_The Exeter Road_,” “_The Great North
Road_,” and “_The Norwich Road_”
[Illustration]
_Illustrated by the Author, and from Old-Time Prints and Pictures_
_Vol. I. LONDON TO BIRMINGHAM_
LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL
LTD. 1902
[_All rights reserved_]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: PREFACE]
_“The olden days of travelling, now to return no more, in which distance
could not be vanquished without toil_”—_those are the days mourned by
Ruskin, who had little better acquaintance with them than afforded by
his childish journeys, when his father, a prosperous wine-merchant,
travelled the country in a carriage with a certain degree of style.
Regrets are, under such circumstances, easily to be understood, just as
were those of the old coach-proprietors, innkeepers, coachmen, postboys,
and all who depended upon road-travel for their existence; but few among
travellers who lived in the days when the change was made from road to
rail had feelings of that kind, else railways would not have proved so
immediately successful. It has been left for a later era to discover the
charm and rosy glamour of old road-faring days, a charm not greatly
insisted upon in the literature of those times, which, instead of being
rich in praise of the road, is fruitful in accounts of the miseries of
travel. Pepys, on the Portsmouth Road in 1668, fearful of losing his way
at night, as had often happened to him before; Thoresby, in 1714 and
later years, on the Great North Road, thanking God that he had reached
home safely; Horace Walpole, on the Brighton Road in 1749, finding the
roads almost impassable, therefore, and reasonably enough, “a great
damper of curiosity”; Arthur Young for years exhausting the vocabulary
of abuse on roads in general; and Jeffrey in 1831, at Grantham, looking
dismally forward to being snowed up at Alconbury Hill—these are a few
instances, among many, which go to prove, if proof were necessary, that
travelling was regarded then as a wholly unmitigated evil._
_But, quite apart from such considerations, there is a charm clinging
about the bygone and the out-of-date wholly lacking in things
contemporary. The Romans who constructed and travelled along their roads
could not find in them the interest we discover, and the old
posting-houses and inns frequented by our grandfathers must have seemed
to them as matter-of-fact as we now think our own railway hotels. It is,
indeed, just_ BECAUSE _the old roads and the wayside inns are superseded
by the rail and the modern hotel, and because they are altogether
removed from the everyday vulgarity of use and competition, that they
have assumed their romantic aspect, together with that which now
surrounds the slow and inconvenient coaches and the harmful unnecessary
highwayman, long since become genuine antiques and puppets for the
historical novelist to play with._
_The_ HOLYHEAD ROAD, _in its long course towards the Irish Sea, holds
much of this old romance, and not a little of a newer sort. Cities whose
history goes back to the era of the Saxons who first gave this highway
the name of “Watling Street,” lie along these many miles; and other
cities and towns there are whose fame and fortunes are of entirely
modern growth. Some have decayed, more have sprung into vigorous life,
and, in answer to the demand that arose, a hundred years ago, for
improved roads, the old highway itself was remodelled, in the days that
are already become distant._
_But better than the cities and towns and villages along these two
hundred and sixty miles is the scenery, ranging from the quiet pastoral
beauties of the Home Counties to the rocks and torrents, the mountains
and valleys of North Wales. This road and its story are a very epitome
of our island’s scenery and history. History of the larger sort—that
tells of the setting up and the putting down of Kings and Princes—has
marched in footprints of blood down the road, and left a trail of fire
and ashes; but it may well be thought, with one who has written the
history of the English people, that the doings of such are not all the
story: that the village church, the mill by the riverside, the drowsy
old town, “the tolls of the market-place, the brasses of its burghers in
the church, the names of its streets, the lingering memory of its
guilds, the mace of its mayor, tell us more of the past of England than
the spire of Sarum or the martyrdom of Canterbury.”_
CHARLES G. HARPER.
PETERSHAM,
SURREY,
_April 1902_.
[Illustration]
LIST _of_ ILLUSTRATIONS
SEPARATE PLATES
PAGE
THE “WONDER,” LONDON AND SHREWSBURY COACH. (_From a
Print after J. Pollard_) _Frontispiece_
SKETCH-MAP OF THE HOLYHEAD ROAD AND THE WATLING
STREET xix
YARD OF THE “BULL AND MOUTH,” ST. MARTIN’S-LE-GRAND.
(_From an old Print_) 13
“TALLY-HO” AND “INDEPENDENT TALLY-HO,” LONDON AND
BIRMINGHAM COACHES, NEARING LONDON, 1828. (_From a
Print after J. Pollard_) 25
THE “ANGEL,” ISLINGTON. MAIL COACHES AND
ILLUMINATIONS ON NIGHT OF THE KING’S BIRTHDAY,
1812. (_From a Print after J. Pollard_) 41
HIGHGATE ARCHWAY AND THE TURNPIKE GATE, 1823. (_From
an Old Print_) 45
HIGHGATE ARCHWAY: MAIL COACH NEARING LONDON. (_From
a Print after J. Pollard_) 51
THE “WOODMAN,” FINCHLEY, 1834: COVENTRY AND
BIRMINGHAM COACH PASSING. (_From a Print after J.
Pollard_) 55
HIGHGATE VILLAGE, 1826. (_From an Old Print_) 59
THE OLD ROAD, BARNET 67
THE OLD ROAD, RIDGE HILL 99
THE GREAT SNOWSTORM, DEC. 26TH, 1836. THE LIVERPOOL
MAIL PASSING TWO LADIES SNOWED UP ON RIDGE HILL IN
THEIR CHARIOT, WITHOUT HORSES, THE POSTBOY HAVING
RIDDEN TO ST. ALBANS FOR FRESH ONES. (_From a
Print after J. Pollard_) 103
ST. ALBANS CATHEDRAL 109
ST. PETER’S STREET AND TOWN HALL, ST. ALBANS, 1826.
(_From an Old Print_) 117
DUNSTABLE DOWNS 147
THE “WHITE HORSE,” HOCKLIFFE 153
THE GREAT SNOWSTORM, DEC. 26TH, 1836. THE BIRMINGHAM
MAIL FAST IN THE SNOW, WITH LITTLE CHANCE OF A
SPEEDY RELEASE: THE GUARD PROCEEDING TO LONDON
WITH THE LETTER-BAGS. (_From a Print after J.
Pollard_) 159
STONY STRATFORD 173
DAVENTRY MARKET-PLACE 235
DUNCHURCH 255
FORD’S HOSPITAL 275
THE OLD “KING’S HEAD,” COVENTRY. (_From a Print
after Rowlandson_) 295
COVENTRY, FROM WINDMILL HILL. (_After J. M. W.
Turner, R.A._) 299
THE LIVERPOOL MAIL, 1836. (From a Print after J.
Pollard) 309
ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT
Vignette: Ogilby’s Dimensurator _Title Page_
Preface vii
List of Illustrations xi
The Holyhead Road: Ogilby’s Survey 1
Clark’s Steam Carriage, 1832. (_From an Old Print_) 33
The New Highgate Archway 48
James Ripley, Ostler of the “Red Lion” 76
Hadley Green: Winter 80
South Minims 92
London Colney 101
Entrance to St. Albans 105
Market-place, St. Albans 114
The “George” 120
The “Fighting Cocks” 123
St. Michael’s 129
Mad Tom in Bedlam 132
Mad Tom at Liberty 133
Redbourne Church 134
Redbourne 135
Dunstable Priory Church 144
Little Brickhill 165
Yard of the “George” 166
Queen’s Oak 176
Market-place, Stony Stratford 181
The “Blue Ball” 183
Lilbourne 206
Cross-in-hand 209
High Cross Monument 210
The Watling Street, near Hammerwich 219
The “Four Crosses,” near Hatherton 222
Boscobel and the “Royal Oak” 227
Town Seal, Daventry 238
Braunston Hill 239
Braunston 240
Ashby St. Ledgers 243
The “Four Crosses,” Willoughby (Demolished 1898) 245
Lord John Scott’s Statue 257
Dunsmore Avenue 260
Knightlow Cross 264
The Three Spires 269
Peeping Tom 273
The “Old Ordinary” 285
The old “Bull’s Head,” Meriden 304
Meriden Cross 306
THE HOLYHEAD ROAD
LONDON TO BIRMINGHAM
MILES
London (General Post Office) to—
Islington (the “Angel”) 1¼
Highgate Archway 4¼
East End, Finchley 5¾
Brown’s Wells, Finchley Common (“Green Man”) 7
North Finchley: “Tally-ho Corner” 7½
Whetstone 9¼
Greenhill Cross 10¼
Barnet 11¼
South Mimms 14½
Ridge Hill 16
London Colney
(Cross River Colne.) 17½
St. Albans (“Peahen”) 20¾
Redbourne 25
Friar’s Wash 27½
Markyate 29
Dunstable 33½
Hockliffe 37½
Sheep Lane 41
Little Brickhill 45
Fenny Stratford
(Cross River Ousel.) 48
Stony Stratford 52¼
Old Stratford
(Cross River Ouse.) 52¾
Potterspury 55
Havencote Houses 59
Towcester (“Pomfret Arms”)
(Cross River Towe.) 60¼
Foster’s Booth
(Cross River Nen.) 64
Weedon Beck
(Watling Street branches off from Holyhead Road.) 68
Dodford 68¾
Daventry 72½
Braunston 75¾
Willoughby 77
Dunchurch 80¼
Ryton-on-Dunsmore
(Cross River Avon.) 84½
Willenhall
(Cross River Sow.) 88¾
Coventry (“King’s Head”) 91¼
Allesley 93¾
Meriden 97
Stonebridge
(Cross River Tame.) 100
Bickenhill 101½
Elmdon 102¼
Wells Green 104
Yardley 105¼
Hay Mills 106¼
Small Heath 106¾
Bordesley 108
Deritend 108½
Birmingham (General Post Office) 109¼
THE WATLING STREET, FROM WEEDON BECK TO OAKENGATES AND KETLEY
MILES
Weedon Beck to—
Watford Gap 5½
Crick Railway Station 9
Lilbourne 12½
Catthorpe Five Houses 12¾
Cave’s Inn 14¼
Gibbet
(Cross River Swift.) 15
Cross-in-Hand 17¼
Willey Railway-crossing 18
Wibtoft 20
High Cross 21
Smockington 22
Caldecote 30
Witherley
(Cross River Anker.) 31½
Mancetter 32
Atherstone 32½
Baddesley Ensor 36
Dordon 36½
Stony Delph 39
Wilnecote
(Cross River Tame.) 39½
Fazeley 40¼
Hints 42¾
Weeford 44½
(Cross-road, Lichfield to Coleshill) 44¾
(Cross-road, Lichfield to Birmingham) 46¼
Wall 47¼
Muckley Corner 48¼
Hammerwich 49½
Brownhills 51
Wyrley Bank 54¾
“Four Crosses,” Hatherton 57
Gailey Railway Station (L. & N. W. R.)
(Cross River Penk.) 59¾
Horsebrook and Stretton 61½
Ivetsey Bank (“Bradford Arms”) 65
Weston-under-Lizard 67
Crackley Bank 69½
St. George’s (Pain’s Lane Chapel) 72½
Oakengates 73¾
Ketley Railway Station 75¼
[Click anywhere on map for high resolution image.]
[Illustration:
SKETCH MAP OF THE HOLYHEAD ROAD, SHOWING ALSO THE ROMAN WATLING STREET
FROM DOVER AND THE ROMAN STATIONS ON THE WAY.
HOLYHEAD ROAD ━━━━━━━━ WATLING STREET ────────
TELFORD’S NEW ROAD THROUGH ANGLESEY ╸╸╸╸╸╸╸╸
]
[Illustration: THE HOLYHEAD ROAD.]
I
“Peace hath its victories, no less renowned than war;” and there is
nothing more remarkable than the engineering triumphs that land the
Irish Member of Parliament, fresh from the Division Lobby at
Westminster, at North Wall, Dublin, spouting treason, in nine hours and
a quarter, or bring the Irish peasant, with the reek of the peat-smoke
still in his clothes, and the mud of his native bogs not yet dried on
his boots, to Euston in the same space of time.
But a hundred years ago, when the peaceful labours of the engineer had
not begun to annihilate space and time, and the Union of Great Britain
and Ireland had only just been effected, no such ready transit was
possible, and our great-grandfathers reckoned their journeys between the
two capitals in days instead of hours. The Holyhead Road, known to our
fathers and ourselves, was not in existence; and Liverpool (and even
Parkgate, near Chester) was as often the point of embarkation for
Ireland as Holyhead. The journey from London to Dublin was then of
uncertain length, determined by such fluctuating conditions as the
season of the year, the condition of the roads, and the winds of St.
George’s Channel—sometimes smooth, but more often stormy.
What the road was, and what it became, shall be the business of these
pages to relate.
* * * * *
Close upon two hundred years ago, then, when Queen Anne was just dead,
and the Elector of Hanover had ascended the throne of England as George
I., the way to Holyhead was, in great measure, an affair of individual
taste and fancy. Some travellers went by way of Oxford and Worcester,
others by Woburn, Northampton, Lutterworth, Stafford, Nantwich, and
Chester; some kept the route now known as the Holyhead Road as far as
Stonebridge, on the other side of Coventry, and thence by Castle
Bromwich and Aldridge Heath; others followed it past Shrewsbury and
turned off at Chirk for Wrexham; while others yet had their own
preferences, and reached Holyhead goodness knows how—themselves,
perhaps, least of all. Those were the times when, as Pennant tells us,
the hardy country gentlemen rode horseback. Thickly wrapped in riding
cloaks, and with jack-boots up to their hips, they splashed through mud
and mire, making light of occasional falls, and so journeyed between
London and Holyhead in perhaps six days, if they were both active and
fortunate. Those travellers commonly rode post-horses, changing their
mounts at well-known stages on the way. The system took its origin from
the establishment of postmasters by the Post Office in 1635, when the
charge for an able horse was 2½_d._ a mile. None but duly authorised
persons were then permitted to supply horses. In 1658, according to an
advertisement in the _Mercurius Politicus_, the mileage had become 3_d._
As time went on this monopoly was abolished, and most innkeepers
supplied horses for those hardy riders who despised the newfangled
coaches. The earliest mention of a coach on this road is found in the
above-named paper, under date of April 9th, 1657: “For the convenient
accommodation of passengers from and betwixt London and West Chester,
there is provided several stage-coaches, which go from the George Inn,
without Aldersgate, upon every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday—to Coventry
in two days, for twenty-five shillings; to Stone in three days, for
thirty shillings; and to Chester in four days, for thirty-five
shillings; and from thence do return upon the same days, which is
performed with much ease to the passengers, having fresh horses once a
day.”
It may shrewdly be surmised that, as the Chester coach of 1739,
mentioned by Pennant, did not succeed in performing the journey under
six days, the coach of 1657 did not find it possible to do it in four;
and this suspicion seems warranted by an advertisement in the _Mercurius
Politicus_ of March 24th, 1659, probably emanating from the same
persons:—
“These are to give notice, that from the George Inn, without
Aldersgate, goes every Monday and Thursday a coach and four able
horses, to carry passengers to Chester in five days, likewise to
Coventry, Cosell (Coleshill), Cank, Litchfield, Stone, or to
Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Shrewsbury, Newport, Whitchurch, and
Holywell, at reasonable rates, by us, who have performed it two
years.
“WILLIAM DUNSTAN.
“HENRY EARLE.
“WILLIAM FOWLER.”
It will be observed that an alternative route, through Birmingham, is
announced, probably to suit the wishes of those who might chance to book
seats. The travelling was by no means comfortable, and in 1663 a young
gentleman is found writing to his father: “I got to London on Saturday
last; my journey was noe way pleasant, being forced to ride in the boote
all the way. The company that came up with me were persons of greate
qualitie, as knightes and ladyes. This travell hath soe indisposed mee,
that I am resolved never to ride up again in the coatch.” He probably
rode post ever afterwards.
In 1681 a coach was running (or crawling) between London and Shrewsbury,
by way of Newport Pagnell. Sir William Dugdale, travelling by it from
London to Coleshill, says: “The first night we stopped at Woburn, the
second at Hill Morton, near Rugby, and on the third we proceeded to
Coleshill.” Thence it went along the old Chester Road to Aldridge Heath
and Brownhills, and by the Watling Street from that point to Wellington.
This Shrewsbury stage was robbed on January 30th, 1703, in the
neighbourhood of Brownhills, by a gang of men and women, who, after they
had plundered the passengers, met three county attorneys, whom they also
robbed. One of the attorneys had what is described as a “porte mantel.”
In it, among other things, was a pair of shoes, in which the owner had
hidden twenty guineas. The thieves threw the shoes away, and when they
had departed he happily regained this most valuable portion of his
luggage. Other wayfarers were not so fortunate on encountering this
hybrid gang of desperadoes; for, ten days later, when two drovers, fresh
from Newcastle Fair, with bags of money in their pockets, came jogging
along the road, they were set upon and robbed. One was killed and the
other dangerously wounded. Two days after this exploit, growing bolder,
the gang attacked the High Sheriff of Staffordshire, with his lady and
servants, coming from Lichfield Fair, took sixty guineas, and cut off
one of the servants’ hands. This was too impudent: the country was
scoured, and these murderous ruffians seized. They numbered nine in all,
and of them three were women dressed in men’s clothes.
In 1702 the “Wolverhampton and Birmingham Flying Stage Coach” was
announced, to go once a week to London, in three days, and set out on
the return from the “Rose,” in Smithfield, every Thursday; but this
enterprise seems to have been short-lived. Meanwhile, the Chester stage
of 1657 and 1659 was still pursuing its steady way; proposing to go the
journey in five days, but taking six. The difference between promise and
performance is neatly illustrated by Pennant. “In March 1739,” he says,
“I changed my Welsh school for one nearer the capital, and travelled in
the Chester stage, then no despicable vehicle for country gentlemen. The
first day, with much labour, we got from Chester to Whitchurch, 20
miles; the second day to the ‘Welsh Harp’; the third, to Coventry; the
fourth, to Northampton; the fifth, to Dunstable; and, as a wondrous
effort, on the last to London, before the commencement of night. The
strain and labour of six good horses, sometimes eight, drew us through
the sloughs of Mireden and other places. We were constantly out two
hours before day, and as late at night; and in the depth of winter
proportionally later. Families which travelled in their own carriages
contracted with Benson & Co., and were dragged up in the same number of
days by three sets of able horses.”
“The single gentlemen, then a hardy race, equipped in jack-boots and
trousers up to their middle, rode post through thick and thin, and,
guarded against the mire, defying the frequent stumble and fall, arose
and pursued their journey with alacrity: while in these days their
enervated posterity sleep away their rapid journeys in easy chaises,
fitted for the conveyance of the soft inhabitants of Sybaris.”
The roads at this time were incredibly bad, no matter the route, and
indeed these several ways had their differences originated and
continually multiplied by certain lengths of road being impassable at
one season, and others equally so on some other occasion. When they were
_all_ impassable at one and the same time—a not unusual occurrence—the
traveller was indeed in evil case, and the highwayman suffered from
great depression of trade. The chief fount of information for travellers
at that time was Ogilby’s _Britannia_, first printed in 1675; a work of
which much more will presently be said. This was a thick folio volume
containing engraved plates and descriptions of every road in England.
Every considerable inn kept a copy of “Ogilby” in those days, for the
information of travellers; just as in the modern hotel one finds railway
time-tables and county directories as a matter of course. Ogilby was in
great request as a work of reference; so greatly indeed, that the early
road travellers who thumbed his pages at meal-times and upset their wine
over him, or now and again stole a particularly useful map, have
rendered clean and perfect copies of early editions not a little
difficult to come by. He was much too bulky for carrying about, and so
the careful traveller made notes and extracts for use from day to day.
Such an excerpt is the yellow and tattered sheet before the present
writer, giving manuscript details of how to reach Coventry. But besides
copied matter there is a good deal else drawn doubtless from first-hand
observation. Coming for instance, to “ffinchley Comon, att y^e galowes
keep to y^e right hande” is the direction, and the whole distance is
punctuated with the remarks “bad waye,” “a slowe,” and other signs
indicating depths of mud and ruggedness of road. “Galowes,” too, recurs
with dreadful frequency, probably not because the person who wrote this
wanted (like the Fat Boy in _Pickwick_) to “make yer flesh creep,” or
because he was morbidly minded, but for the commonplace reason that
gallows made excellent landmarks, and were as common objects of the road
then as sign-posts are now.
Dean Swift is the great classic figure on the Holyhead Road at this
period; although, to be sure, a very elusive and shadowy one, so far as
records of his journeys are concerned. He, too, like Pennant’s hardy
single gentlemen, commonly rode horseback, and has left traces of his
presence here and there along the road, generally in witty and biting
epigrams, written with a diamond ring on the windows of wayside inns.
There could scarce, at this time, be anything more naïvely amusing than
the pleased surprise he exhibits in a letter written to Pope in 1726, at
“the quick change” he made in seven days from London to Dublin “through
many nations and languages unknown to the civilised world,” when he had
expected the enterprise, “with moderate fortune,” to occupy ten or
eleven. “I have often reflected,” he adds, “in how few hours with a
swift horse or a strong gale, a man may come among a people as unknown
to him as the antipodes.”
II
The question, “How far to Holyhead?” had in old days been a difficult
one to answer. It was not only in the uncertainty and variety of routes
that the difficulty of accurately measuring the number of miles lay, but
in the wild and conflicting ideas as to what really constituted a mile.
This uncertainty lasted until the middle of the eighteenth century, when
the first milestones since the days of the Romans were erected. It was,
in fact, not before 1750, when, as part of their statutory obligations,
the numerous Turnpike Trusts began to erect their milestones, that
distances began to be publicly and correctly measured. It had already
long been known that the mileages computed by the Post Office, in
dealing with postmasters and the mails, were very inaccurate throughout
the country, and for many years previously compilers of road-books had
been accustomed to print two tables of distances; one the “computed” and
Post Office mile, and the other the measured mile.
The first of English makers of road-books, John Ogilby, mentioned this
discrepancy, so early as 1675, when he published his great work,
_Britannia_. Ogilby who had been commissioned by Charles II. to survey
the roads and measure them, did his work thoroughly. He claims to have
travelled 40,000 miles in compiling his book, a folio volume of great
typographical beauty and exquisitely engraved plans of the roads. In
making his survey, he used what he calls a “wheel dimensurator.” Exactly
what this was is shown in the beautifully etched title-page by Hollar,
to his first edition, where Ogilby himself is seen on horseback,
directing the course of two men; one wheeling the instrument, the other
checking its measurements. It apparently was a wheel fitted with a
handle and wound with a ten-mile length of tape. Trundled along, it
unwound the tape, the intermediate distances being noted down by the
assistant. Ogilby very soon discovered that although the Post Office
gave the mileage to Birmingham and Holyhead respectively as 89 and 208
miles, it was then really 116 and 269 miles. The Post Office mile, which
he calls the “vulgar computation,” was therefore practically a third
larger than our so-called Statute Mile, dating from 1593 and constituted
by a statute of the 35th year of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, not so much
for the purpose of creating a standard of measurement for the kingdom,
as for defining certain limits. That Statute was passed by a Legislature
dismayed by the rapid growth of London, and was an enactment forbidding
persons to build within three miles of the capital. When it came to the
point of defining a mile, it was found that no such measure had ever
been officially fixed, and that English, Irish, Scottish, and local
miles were of variable lengths. The mile was then taken to be eight
“forty-longs,” or furlongs, of forty perches each; a perch to consist of
5½ yards.
That this extraordinary difference between actual distances and those
computed by the Post Office should have arisen on all roads is
inexplicable, and that it should have remained after Ogilby’s official
measurements had proved the “computed” miles utterly wrong is an
astonishing proof of the vitality of error. But the real trouble arose
with the appearance of milestones along the turnpike roads. They were
the cause of much bitterness and contention between postmasters and the
Post Office, and between keepers of posting-houses and travellers.
Those who did business for the Post Office claimed extra mileage, and
travellers posting to or from Birmingham and Holyhead found themselves
charged in the aggregate for 27 or 62 miles extra, as the case might be;
which, say at 1_s._ 3_d._ a mile for chaise and four horses, was a
consideration. Travellers resented this difference and pointed out that,
if posting establishments could always have afforded to do certain
stages at certain prices, they could continue so to do; to which those
men of horses and carriages replied by pointing out that the milestones
were official and that they themselves paid more carriage duty on the
extra mileage; a generally conclusive retort.
III
The earliest coaches made no pretence of taking the traveller to
Holyhead. Chester was the _ultima thule_ of wheeled conveyance when Sir
William Dugdale and Pennant kept diaries, or when Swift wrote. We have
already seen that the Chester stage took six days, and therefore the
horrors of the journey described by Swift about the year 1700, were
protracted as well as acute. Whether or not he ever really made the
journey by coach is uncertain, but if so, he certainly for ever after
rode horseback. But here is his picture of such an experience:—
Resolv’d to visit a far-distant-friend,
A Porter to the Bull and Gate I send,
And bid the man, at all events, engage
_Some_ place or other in the Chester stage.
The man returns—“’Tis done as soon as said;
Your Honour’s sure when once the money’s paid.
My brother whip, impatient of delay,
Puts to at three and swears he cannot stay.”
(Four dismal hours before the break of day.)
Rous’d from sound sleep—thrice call’d—at length I rise,
Yawning, stretch out my arm, half-closed my eyes;
By steps and lanthorn enter the machine,
And take my place—how cordially!—between
Two aged matrons of excessive bulk,
To mend the matter, too, of meaner folk;
While in like mood, jamm’d in on t’other side,
A bullying captain and a fair one ride,
Foolish as fair, and in whose lap a boy—
_Our_ plague eternal, but _her_ only joy.
At last, the glorious number to complete,
Steps in my landlord for that bodkin seat;
When soon, by ev’ry hillock, rut, and stone,
Into each other’s face by turns we’re thrown.
_This_ grandam scolds, _that_ coughs, the captain swears,
The fair one screams and has a thousand fears;
While our plump landlord, train’d in other lore,
Slumbers at ease, nor yet asham’d to snore;
And Master Dicky, in his mother’s lap,
Squalling, at once brings up three meals of pap.
Sweet company! Next time, I do protest, Sir,
I’d walk to Dublin, ere I’d ride to Chester!
[Illustration: YARD OF THE “BULL AND MOUTH,” ST. MARTIN’S-LE-GRAND.
_From an old Print._]
This engine of torture was, however, well patronised.
The first stage-coach to ply between London and Holyhead was the
conveyance promoted chiefly by that enterprising Shrewsbury innkeeper,
Robert Lawrence. It started in 1780, and went through Coventry, Castle
Bromwich, Birmingham, Walsall, Wolverhampton, Shrewsbury, Llangollen,
Corwen, and Conway, thus keeping pretty closely to the course taken by
the modern Holyhead Road. It lay the first night at Castle Bromwich, the
second at Oswestry, and the third (if God permitted) at Holyhead. Five
years later (in the summer of 1785) the first mail-coach to Chester and
Holyhead was established, going by Northampton, Welford, Lutterworth,
Hinckley, Atherstone, Tamworth, Lichfield, Wolseley Bridge, Stafford,
Eccleshall, Woore, Nantwich, Tarporley, Chester, and St. Asaph. This,
the only mail route to Holyhead until 1808, measured 278 miles 7
furlongs, and was the longest of all ways. Other roads for many years
led by Oxford and Stratford-on-Avon, and were used by some of the
smartest coaches to the end of the coaching age; but the shortest route,
the great “Parliamentary” road to Holyhead, measures 260½ miles. In 1808
the London, Birmingham, and Shrewsbury Mail, through Oxford, was
extended to Holyhead, going by Llangollen, Corwen, and Capel Curig. It
ran thus until 1817, when it was transferred to the direct Coventry
route. The Holyhead Road had then begun to be reformed, and the direct
Mail took precedence over the old “Holyhead and Chester Mail,” still
going by its old course.
The “New Holyhead Mail,” as it was officially named, then started from
the “Swan with Two Necks,” in Lad Lane, every evening at 7.30, and took
38 hours about the business. In 1826, the year when the Menai Bridge was
opened, the time was cut down to 32¾ hours, and in 1830 to 29 hours 17
minutes, the mail arriving at Holyhead at 1.17 on the second morning
after it had left London. In 1836 and the last two years of its
existence, the journey was performed in 26 hours 55 minutes; the arrival
timed for 10.55 p.m.
Here is the time-bill for that last and best achievement:—
MILES.
LONDON dep. 8.0 P.M.
15 South Mimms arr. 9.40 „
25 Redbourne „ 10.44 „
45 Little Brickhill „ 12.32 A.M.
52¼ Stony Stratford „ 1.26 „
60¼ Towcester „ 2.12 „
72½ Daventry „ 3.25 „
80¼ Dunchurch „ 4.11 „
91¼ Coventry „ 5.18 „
100 Stonebridge „ 6.8 „
109¼ Birmingham { arr. 7.8 „
{ dep. 7.43 „
117¼ Wednesbury arr. 8.28 „
122¼ Wolverhampton „ 9.1 „
137½ Shiffnal „ 10.14 „
141½ Haygate „ 10.59 „
152 Shrewsbury { arr. 11.59 „
{ dep. 12.4 P.M.
160½ Nesscliff arr. 12.53 „
170 Oswestry „ 1.46 „
182½ Llangollen „ 2.58 „
192½ Corwen { arr. 3.55 „
{ dep. 4.0 „
198¼ Tynant arr. 5.1 „
205¾ Cernioge „ 5.39 „
220 Capel Curig „ 7.2 „
228 Tyn-y-Maes „ 7.46 „
234 Bangor { arr. 8.20 „
{ dep. 8.25 „
237 Menai Bridge arr. 8.43 „
247½ Mona Inn „ 9.43 „
260½ HOLYHEAD „ 10.55 „
The man who made that achievement possible was Thomas Telford. Long
before his aid was sought, the question of improving the communications
between the two countries had become a burning one. The Irish members,
meeting no longer on St. Stephen’s Green, had a grievance in the
circumstance of their journeys to the Imperial Parliament at Westminster
being both tedious and hazardous, and this question of road-reform was
the first raised by them. The Government, in reply, appointed a
Commission; Rennie, the foremost engineer of his day, was called in to
advise upon the harbours of Holyhead and Howth, and Telford in 1810 to
plan the road improvements.
Exactly what the road was like before it was improved under Telford, let
the Report of the Commissioners on Holyhead Roads and Harbours
tell:—“Many parts are extremely dangerous for a coach to travel upon.
From Llangollen to Corwen the road is very narrow, long, and steep; has
no side fence, except about a foot and a half of mould or dirt, thrown
up to prevent carriages falling down three or four hundred feet into the
river Dee. Stage-coaches have been frequently overturned and broken down
from the badness of the road, and the mails have been overturned.
Between Maerdy, Pont-y-Glyn, and Dinas Hill, there are a number of
dangerous precipices, steep hills, and difficult narrow turnings. At
Dinas Hill the width of the road is not more than twelve feet at the
steepest part of the hill, and with a deep precipice on one side; two
carriages cannot pass without the greatest danger. At Ogwen Pool there
is a very dangerous place, where the water runs over the road; extremely
difficult to pass at flooded times.” Arrived at Bangor there were the
dangers of the ferry to be braved, and, after these, 26 miles of the
perilous old road across Anglesey, even now to be traced by those
curious in these things. What travelling to Holyhead and Dublin was like
in those old times may best be shown by quoting an old diary of 1787, of
an expedition from Grosvenor Square, London. The party consisted of a
coach and four, a post-chaise and pair, and five outriders. They reached
Holyhead in four days (expenses, so far, £77 1_s._ 3_d._), and crossed
St. George’s Channel at a further cost of £37 2_s._ 1_d._; and cheap,
too, as times then were.
The first idea of the Government towards improving the road was to
indict twenty-one townships between Shrewsbury and Holyhead. It would
have been an excellent notion, only for the fact that those places were
quite unable to find the penalties actually recoverable at law, much
less to reconstruct the road. A larger view of the necessities of the
case had to be taken. The nation was already pledged to the construction
of two harbours, and to the nation now fell the duty of making access to
Holyhead Harbour moderately safe. The first practical result was the
selection of Telford as engineer, to survey and report upon the 109
miles between Shrewsbury and Holyhead. Telford had already carried out
many improvements for the Government in the Highlands, and had, years
before, as Surveyor to the County of Salop and Engineer of the Ellesmere
Canal, acquired a thorough knowledge of the road through North Wales. He
made a survey in 1811, but it was not until 1815 that the Government
finally adopted his report and that of the Commissioners, and the
Treasury found the money for the work. It was then decided that
improvements should be made along the whole length of road between
London and Holyhead, but that the Shrewsbury to Holyhead portion being
incomparably the worst, it should have the first attention. In the
course of five years this first part of the work was completed. The
general line of the old road was followed, along the valley of the Dee,
and thence from Corwen, across the watershed to the Vale of Conway and
to the summit-level at Ogwen Pool; descending from that point by the
valley of Nant Ffrancon to Bangor and the Menai Straits. There a quarter
of a mile of stormy water still separated the Isle of Anglesey from the
mainland, and it was not until the January of 1826 that it was bridged.
From the Anglesey side of the Straits an entirely new and direct road
was made across the island to Holyhead, saving three miles, and giving a
level route, instead of the precipitous old way.
In the result, the Holyhead Road through North Wales may, without
hesitation, be pronounced the finest in the land. Passing though it does
through the wildest scenery, nowhere is the gradient steeper than 1 in
20, while its width, from 28 to 34 feet, and its splendid surface render
it safe and convenient. The old road, frequently as steep as 1 in 6½,
and with its sides unprotected from the cliffs and torrents that
terrified bygone generations, has almost wholly vanished under the new;
but in those places where Telford did not merely remodel it, and took an
entirely new line, its character may still be seen.
In 1820 the London to Shrewsbury portion of the work was begun, and the
greater part completed by 1828. Minor improvements were made on it from
time to time in after years, but it does not nearly compare with the
more thorough work undertaken through North Wales. Parts remain rich in
very steep hills, and powerful interests situated in the larger towns
vetoed the cutting of new routes through crooked and awkward approaches,
and so have left much to be desired. Telford himself died, in his
seventy-seventh year, in 1834, but the Holyhead Road Commissioners were
in existence for years afterwards, and continued to send forth Reports
until 1851. For a long period, however, before that time those
documents, containing as they do only the surveyors’ reports as to the
condition of the road and bridges, have nothing of interest. The last
paper of importance is the Parliamentary Return of 1839, giving the sum
of the expenses incurred on the whole length of road, including
improvement of the road from Bangor to Chester, and cost of building the
Menai and Conway bridges. The total amount was £697,963 14_s._ 9_d._, of
that sum £164,489 7_s._ 9_d._ was granted by Parliament towards the work
as a national undertaking: the remaining £533,474 7_s._ 0_d._ lent by
the Treasury, to be repaid by the Commissioners out of the tolls. In
1839, according to a return made to Parliament by the Office of Woods
and Forests, £250,880 5_s._ 9¼_d._ had been thus repaid. That very
little of the balance found its way back to the Treasury may confidently
be asserted. But, however that matter stands, certainly the work was
done with rigid economy and, considering its nature and extent, at a
very small cost.
Some part of the cost of the improved road fell upon the letter writers
of that day. The postage of a letter to Ireland was sixteen pence, made
up of the following items:—
_s._ _d._
Inland postage to Holyhead 1 0
Conway Bridge 0 1
Menai Bridge 0 1
Sea postage 0 2
— —
1 4
== ==
It made no difference that the direct Holyhead Mail went nowhere near
the Conway Bridge: letters for Ireland were still charged that penny,
until Penny Postage came in 1841 and treated all places in the United
Kingdom alike.
IV
Meanwhile, stage-coaching had also been revolutionised. The growth of
Birmingham and the great commercial industries of the Midlands had
rendered the old methods too slow and cumbrous; and the ancient coaches,
supported on leather straps, and with curtained windows, starting once,
twice or thrice a week, according to distance travelled, performing
their slow and toilsome pilgrimages by daylight and resting at sundown,
gave place to the well-appointed vehicles, hung on steel springs, and
with glazed windows, that ran from either end, every day, and continued
their journeys throughout the night. No longer was it possible to drive
the same wretched animals the whole length of the weary day, but changes
at every ten or twelve miles came into vogue, and speed consequently
increased. The greatest period of coaching on the Holyhead Road dawned
in 1823, when the London and Birmingham “Tally-Ho” began to run. This
was often called “Mountain’s Tally-Ho,” being horsed out of London by
Mrs. Sarah Ann Mountain, of the “Saracen’s Head,” Snow Hill. It was a
day coach, and one of the first to run “double,” that is to say, with up
and down coaches every day. It left London at 7.45 a.m. and Birmingham
at 7 a.m. Its popularity was very soon challenged by eager competitors,
for in the following year the “Independent Tally-Ho” was put on the road
by Horne, of the “Golden Cross,” Charing Cross, starting an hour and a
quarter earlier from London, and a quarter of an hour earlier from
Birmingham, with the idea of securing the “Tally-Ho’s” custom. From this
time, coaches of this popular name multiplied until their number was
quite bewildering. In 1830, the “Original Tally-Ho” was started, and in
1832, the “Real” and the “Patent Tally-Hoes.” A picture by J. Pollard of
the “Tally-Ho” and “Independent” nearing London on a summer afternoon,
about 1828, shows that if one did actually start before the other, they
both reached London together. The scene is the “Crown,” Holloway Road, a
house now numbered 622 in that thoroughfare, and rebuilt about 1865, but
still bearing the same name, situated at the corner of Landseer Road.
[Illustration:
“TALLY-HO” AND “INDEPENDENT TALLY-HO,” LONDON AND BIRMINGHAM COACHES,
NEARING LONDON, 1828.
_From a Print after J. Pollard._
]
In 1825 all previous efforts were eclipsed by the “Wonder” coach,
between London and Shrewsbury, established in that year. It was the
first to perform much over a hundred miles a day, and, starting from the
“Bull and Mouth,” St. Martin’s-le-Grand, at 6.30 a.m., was in
Shrewsbury, 154 miles distant, at 10.30 the same night. It aroused
extraordinary competition. A “No Wonder,” running three days a week from
Birmingham lasted a season, and is heard of no more; but a more
thoroughgoing rival was the “Nimrod,” from Shrewsbury, put on the road
in 1834. How the proprietors of the “Wonder” started the “Stag,” and
successfully “nursed” the “Nimrod,” will be found recorded under
Shrewsbury. There were at this competitive time more coaches on the
Holyhead Road than on any other. So far as Barnet, there were eighteen
mails and one hundred and seventy-six other coaches, besides
road-waggons, post-chaises, and other vehicles. Some of them turned off
at Hockliffe for Manchester and Liverpool, but the greater number
continued to Birmingham. The London and Birmingham “Greyhound” was
started in 1829, and ran light, with an imperial on the roof, to prevent
luggage being placed there. Passengers’ luggage must be sent to the
office in time to be forwarded by the “Economist.” So ran the notice.
Both the “Greyhound” and the “Economist” were night coaches: the latter,
the luggage-carrier, starting an hour earlier. It was at one time
proposed to light the “Greyhound” with gas, but when it was found that
the gas-tank would take up the space in the fore-boot wanted for
parcels, the idea was relinquished. The down “Greyhound” was ingeniously
robbed in March 1835 by a gang who set to work very cleverly. Two inside
places were booked by the thieves at the “Swan with Two Necks,” and the
two remaining places at the “Angel,” Islington. When the coach reached
Hockliffe, two of the confederates alighted, and the other two left at
Stony Stratford. Nothing was discovered until Coventry was reached, when
the guard, feeling about inside, found that one of the parcels gave way.
On his leaning against it, away it went into the boot, which had been
cut open, and a bank parcel, containing 300 sovereigns and a bill of
exchange for £120 extracted. There is no record of the thieves ever
having been discovered. They disappeared, just as did those who walked
with bank-notes to the value of £4002 from the Birmingham “Balloon Post
Coach,” when standing in the yard of the “Swan with Two Necks,” December
12th, 1822. £1000 was offered for the discovery of the thieves, and the
notes were stopped, but the results do not appear.
Horrified horse-owners, and old-fashioned persons with prejudices
against invention and progress, raise outcries against the pace of
motor-cars, and have succeeded in reducing the legal speed on roads from
the original 14 miles an hour allowed by Act of Parliament to the 12
miles permitted by an order of the Local Government Board; but the pace
attained toward the close of the coaching era by some of the crack
coaches was much higher. The rival “Tally-Ho” and “Independent Tally-Ho”
coaches, for instance, ran certain stages up to 18¾ miles an hour, and
only on one stage did they drop down to 12 miles. “Furious driving,”
indeed, and vouched for by the contemporary _Coventry Chronicle_, May
8th, 1830, which well heads its report, “Extraordinary Travelling”:—
“Saturday se’night, being May-day, the usual competition took place
between the London Coaches. The “Independent Tally-ho,” running
between Birmingham and London, performed a feat altogether
unparalleled in the annals of Coaching, having travelled the distance
of one-hundred-and-nine miles in seven hours and thirty-nine minutes.
“The following is a correct account of the time it took to perform the
distance, horsed by the various proprietors:—Mr. Horne, from London to
Colney, seventeen-and-quarter miles, in one-hour-and-six minutes;—Mr.
Bowman, from Colney to Redbourne (where the passengers, stopped six
minutes for breakfast), seven-and-half miles, in twenty-six minutes;—Mr.
Morris, from Redbourne to Hockliffe, twelve-and-quarter miles, in
one-hour-and-four minutes;—Mr. Warden, from Hockliffe to Shenley, eleven
miles, in forty-seven minutes;—Mr. May, from Shenley to Daventry,
twenty-four miles, in one-hour-and-forty-nine minutes;—Mr. Garner,
from Daventry to Coventry, nineteen-and-quarter miles, in
one-hour-and-twelve minutes;—Mr. Radenhurst, from Coventry to
Birmingham, seventeen-and-three quarter miles, in one-hour-and-fifteen
minutes.
“The ‘Original Tally-ho’ performed the same distance in
seven-hours-and-fifty minutes.”
The extraordinary feat of the “Independent-Tally-ho” recorded above,
excelled the performances of that famous coach, the “Quicksilver” Exeter
mail; but that is nothing compared with the passengers’ feat of
swallowing a breakfast in the six minutes allowed for that meal at
Redbourne. It is probably no great hazard to guess that those unhappy
passengers had no breakfast at all on that historic occasion.
It is not to be supposed that coaching was an altogether safe method of
travelling, especially when feats of this kind were indulged in; but it
must be acknowledged that comparatively few of the accidents happened
when racing. Among the disasters that now and again occurred, besides
those recorded elsewhere in these pages, the following specimens, from
October 1834 to the close of 1837, are typical:—
1834, October.—Shrewsbury “Union” overturned at Overley Hill, near
Wellington. The coach was heavily laden and one of the hind
wheels collapsed. One of the outsides, a Mr. Newey, of
Halesowen, jumped off, but not far enough, and the coach and
luggage fell on him, killing him. He died the next morning, at
the Haygate inn.
1834, October.—“Nimrod.” Coachman thrown off near Haygate, and killed
on the spot.
1834, October.—Lichfield and Wolverhampton coach. A jockey, named
Calloway, had his leg broken by being thrown off in an upset.
In August 1835 he was awarded £210 damages.
1835, September.—“Emerald,” London and Birmingham coach, upset at 2
a.m. near Little Brickhill, owing to axle-tree of near
fore-wheel breaking. The five outsides were pitched into a
hedge, and not seriously hurt, but the coachman, John Webb,
was entangled with the apron, and was crushed to death by the
coach falling on him. His body was found to be terribly
mangled when carried into the “Peacock and Sandhill Tavern.”
1836.—Sawyer, the beadle of Apothecaries’ Hall, returning from
Birmingham on outside of coach (name not specified) fell
asleep. A jerk flung him off, and he was killed.
1837, August.—“Emerald,” London and Birmingham coach. Horses dashed
away up Plumb Park Hill, near Stony Stratford, and coach upset
in the succeeding valley. Outside passengers thrown a distance
of twenty feet, and two of them killed.
1837, October.—Birmingham and Shrewsbury Mail upset on entering
Wolverhampton, and coach smashed to pieces. All passengers
severely injured.
1837, December.—Holyhead Mail upset at Willenhall, owing to
obstructions in the road during alterations. Coachman’s skull
fractured, and one outside passenger injured. The “Swallow”
coach had been upset on the same spot the day before.
Besides these instances, there was the sad case of Yates, a guard on the
“Wonder,” who at Christmas time, in one year not particularised, was
thrown off the coach at Wolverhampton. The coach was overloaded with
game and Christmas hampers, and he occupied a makeshift perch over one
of the hind wheels. The vehicle gave a lurch, and he fell out; his feet
catching in the straps, he was dragged some distance on his head until
the hind wheel caught him and crushed his thigh. He died the next day.