Some old omnibus names--Story of the “Royal Blues”--Omnibus
racing--Complaints against conductors--Passengers’ behaviour--The
well-conducted conductor--The ill-conducted conductor--The “Equirotal
Omnibus.”
While Hancock’s steam omnibuses were endeavouring to win public
support, horse omnibuses were in a very flourishing condition, and
their proprietors were opening new lines in all the chief parts of
London.
In 1837 there were fourteen omnibuses running from Blackheath to
Charing Cross; twenty-seven from Chelsea to Mile End Gate; forty-one
from Piccadilly to Blackwall; nineteen from Hampstead to Holborn,
Charing Cross, and the Bank; seventeen from the Angel, Islington, to
the Elephant and Castle; and twenty-five from Edgware Road (the spot
where Sutherland Avenue now joins Maida Vale) to the Bank. There were
also many omnibuses running into the City from Putney, Kew, Richmond,
Deptford, Greenwich, Lewisham, Holloway, Highbury, Hornsey, Highgate,
Hackney, Homerton, Clapton, Enfield, Edmonton, Peckham, Brixton,
Norwood, Kennington, Dulwich, Streatham, and elsewhere.
At that time it was the fashion to give each omnibus line a distinctive
name, and people soon understood that a “Favorite” went to Islington,
an “Eagle” to Pimlico, and so on. The chief lines were the “Favorites,”
the “Eagles,” the “Wellingtons,” the “King Williams,” the “Napoleons,”
the “Victorias,” the “Nelsons,” the “Marlboroughs,” the “Hopes,” “Les
Dames Blanches,” the “Citizens,” the “Emperors,” the “Venuses,” and
the “Marquess of Westminsters.” At the present day the “Atlases,” the
“Favorites,” the “Paragons,” the “Royal Blues,” and the “Times,” are
the only omnibuses which have names.
The “Eagles” were green omnibuses, and ran from the “Compasses,”
at Pimlico, to Blackwall, _viâ_ Piccadilly. They belonged to a Mr.
John Clark, and old ’busmen declare that one day, as an “Eagle” was
passing Hyde Park Corner, Her Majesty Queen Victoria, then unmarried,
overtook it, and by some means or other her long habit was caught by
the handle of the open door. Clark, who, so the story runs, was acting
as conductor on that occasion, released it instantly, and Her Majesty
graciously thanked him for his promptitude. In commemoration of this
incident, Clark had the omnibus painted blue, and substituted for the
word “Eagle” on the panels, the words “Royal Blue.” Moreover, he had a
picture of Her Majesty on horseback painted on the panel of the door.
After a time he called all his omnibuses on that line “Royal Blues,”
but the original “Royal Blue” was the only one that bore a picture of
the Queen.
But the first half of the above story is not correct. What really
happened is as follows:--Clark was driving one of his omnibuses by
Hyde Park Corner, when suddenly Her Majesty approached on horseback.
He endeavoured to pull out of the way, but, as the road was partially
blocked, it was not an easy thing to do. However, being an excellent
whip, he succeeded, and the Queen, who had witnessed his efforts, most
graciously bowed to him as she rode by.
For many years the picture of the Queen painted on the Royal Blue
omnibus was one of the sights pointed out to visitors to London.
Eventually, wishing to preserve the picture, Clark had it cut out of
the omnibus door and framed, and it is now in the possession of his
daughter.
The “Royal Blues,” which were among the first omnibuses sold to the
London General Omnibus Company, now run from Victoria to King’s Cross
_viâ_ Piccadilly and Bond Street.
The “Favorites” were named after a Parisian line of omnibuses called
_Les Favorites_. The drivers and conductors wore dark blue suits with
brass buttons. These omnibuses had, as at present, the word “Favorite”
painted in large letters along the panels, and an opposition proprietor
imitated them as closely as he dared by having “Favor me” painted
on the sides of his omnibus. But the most formidable rivals of the
“Favorites” were the “Hopes,” and the racing between these omnibuses
became decidedly exciting. A “Favorite” and a “Hope” would start
together from the corner opposite the Angel, and race madly down the
City Road to the Bank. But the accidents which they caused in their
wild career became so appallingly numerous that the Islington Vestry
offered a reward to any one giving such information as would lead to
the conviction of any driver. This action certainly checked the racing
proclivities of the Islington omnibus drivers, but in other parts
of London racing flourished for many years. Down the Haymarket from
Coventry Street was a favourite racing-ground. Then, as now, there was
a cab-rank in the centre of the road, and two omnibuses would race
down, one each side of it and frequently come into collision with each
other at the end. Many passengers encouraged the coachmen to race,
and when accidents occurred to the horses or omnibuses, frequently
subscribed to pay for the damage.
Some of the omnibus proprietors possessed very inferior stock, and the
horses to be seen pulling their vehicles were a disgrace to London. A
story is told of a coachman out of work who applied to one of these
proprietors for a job.
“Ever driven a ’bus before?” the proprietor asked.
“Yes, sir. I drove a Kingsland ’bus.”
“H’m. Discharged, I suppose.”
“No, sir. I left because I wanted a change.”
“How many accidents have you had?”
“None at all, sir.”
“Smart coachman! Have you let many horses down?”
“Never let one down, sir.”
“Get out of my yard,” shouted the proprietor, fiercely; “you’re no good
to me. I want a man who’s had plenty of practice at getting horses up.
Mine are always falling down.”
About this time, the latter part of the thirties, omnibus conductors
began to fall into disrepute. The chief complaints against them,
apart from their ordinary rudeness to passengers, were that when
they were wanted to stop the omnibus they were always busy talking
to the coachman along the roof, and that they banged the doors too
violently whenever a person entered or got out. Others complained of
their shouting unnecessarily, and of standing at the door gazing in
at the passengers, thereby preventing fresh air from coming in, and
polluting the atmosphere with their foul breath. Moreover, the “cads,”
as the conductors were now called, were not at all careful to keep
objectionable people out of their omnibuses, and one passenger, an
old lady, had an exciting experience. She entered an omnibus, and the
door was banged behind her in the usual nerve-shattering way. “Right
away, Bill!” the conductor shouted, and before the poor old lady had
recovered from the shock of the door slamming, the omnibus started,
and she was pitched into the far dark corner, and fell against some
men sitting there, who answered her timid apologies with an outburst
of the vilest language imaginable. The old lady, horrified at their
abuse, began to rebuke them, but stopped short, terrified, when she
discovered that her fellow-passengers were three villainous-looking
convicts, chained together and in charge of a warder. She screamed to
the conductor to stop the omnibus, but the conductor was, as usual,
talking to the driver, and did not heed her cries. Then she opened
the door to get out, and, in her excitement, fell into the road. The
conductor jumped down, picked her up, demanded the fare, and got it.
“Right away, Bill!” he shouted, and the omnibus drove on, leaving the
old lady, bruised and trembling, in the middle of the road.
While many people were complaining of the omnibus conductors’
behaviour, a large number of regular riders declared that it was but
little worse than that of many passengers, and in January, 1836, the
_Times_ published the following guide to behaviour in omnibuses:--
OMNIBUS LAW.
1. Keep your feet off the seats.
2. Do not get into a snug corner yourself, and then open the windows
to admit a northwester upon the neck of your neighbour.
3. Have your money ready when you desire to alight. If your time is
not valuable, that of others may be.
4. Do not impose on the conductor the necessity of finding you change;
he is not a banker.
5. Sit with your limbs straight, and do not let your legs describe an
angle of forty-five, thereby occupying the room of two persons.
6. Do not spit upon the straw. You are not in a hog-sty, but in an
omnibus, travelling in a country which boasts of its refinement.
7. Behave respectfully to females, and put not an unprotected lass to
the blush because she cannot escape from your brutality.
8. If you bring a dog, let him be small and confined by a string.
9. Do not introduce large parcels; an omnibus is not a van.
10. Reserve bickerings and disputes for the open field. The sound of
your own voice may be music to your own ears--not so, perhaps, to
those of your companions.
11. If you will broach politics or religion, speak with moderation;
all have an equal right to their opinions, and all have an equal right
not to have them wantonly shocked.
12. Refrain from affectation and conceited airs. Remember you are
riding a distance for sixpence which, if made in a hackney-coach,
would cost you as many shillings; and that should your pride elevate
you above plebeian accommodations, your purse should enable you to
command aristocratic indulgences.
Excellent advice, undoubtedly, and some of it might be taken to heart,
with good results, by hundreds of omnibus passengers of to-day.
As time passed, the behaviour of the conductors grew worse. This was
due chiefly to the indifference of the omnibus proprietors. If their
conductors paid in a certain amount daily, they were quite satisfied
with them, and by no means thankful to passengers who complained of
their misbehaviour. The omnibus proprietor of this period was a much
lower class of man than George Shillibeer. In most cases he himself
had been a driver or conductor, and, on becoming an employer, his
chief anxiety was to prevent his men growing rich at his expense.
Knowing from experience what an omnibus could earn in various seasons
and weather, he took every precaution possible to guard against
his men retaining as large a portion of the earnings as he himself
had pocketed when a conductor. The men who paid daily the sum he
demanded were the conductors he preferred, and these usually were the
passenger-swindling, bullying specimens, and thoroughly deserved their
name--“cads.”
In January, 1841, the _Times_ printed the following description of two
classes of conductors:--
THE WELL-CONDUCTED CONDUCTOR
1. Never bawls out “Bank--Bank--City--Bank!” because he knows that
passengers are always as much on the look-out for him as he is for
them, so that these loud and hideous shouts are quite unnecessary.
2. Never bangs the omnibus door after he has let a passenger in or
out, but makes it a rule to shut it as quietly as possible.
3. Always takes care that there are two check strings or straps
running along the roof of the omnibus, on the inside, and
communicating with the arms of the driver by two large wooden or
other rings which are easily slipped on and off.
4. Is careful also to have a direction conspicuously placed inside the
omnibus, announcing to the passengers that if they wish to be set down
on the right hand they will pull the right-hand check-string or strap,
and if they wish to be set down on the left hand they will pull the
left-hand check-string. By this arrangement the passenger is set down
exactly where he wishes to be, and all the bawling is prevented.
5. Never stands at the omnibus door staring in upon the passengers,
but sits down upon the seat provided for him outside. In this way
he knows that he gains a double advantage: he is saved the fatigue
of standing during a whole journey, and by looking backwards as the
driver looks forwards, persons who wish to ride are more easily seen
than if the driver and conductor are both looking the same way.
6. Never allows the driver to go on till the passengers are safely
seated, and always directs him to pull up close either to the right or
left hand of the street or road.
THE ILL-CONDUCTED CONDUCTOR
1. Always bawls out
“Bank--Bank--City--Bank--Bank--Bank--City--City--Bank--Bank--Bank!” by
which disgusting noise his own lungs are injured, the public peace is
disturbed, and not any advantage gained.
2. Always bangs the door so violently that if you are sitting next the
door you are likely to be deafened for life.
3. Never provides any check-string, but compels the passengers who
want to be set down to use their sticks, canes, and umbrellas, and
loud shouts into the bargain, thereby creating a most intolerable
nuisance.
4. Always takes up and sets down his passengers in the middle of the
street; by which rudeness they are sometimes bespattered with mud and
always exposed to danger.
5. Always stands at the door of the omnibus staring in upon the
passengers, particularly after he has been eating his dinner of
beefsteak, strong onions, and stale beer; and generally has some cad
or other crony standing and talking with him. The air that would
otherwise circulate through the omnibus, in the way of ventilation, is
obstructed and poisoned.
6. Always bawls out “All right!” before the passengers have taken
their seats, by which gross carelessness great inconvenience and even
danger are often occasioned.
But it was not only of the drivers and conductors that the public
complained. The officials at the inquiry offices stationed at the
starting-point of each line, were denounced as being utterly unfitted
for the positions they occupied. All were rude, and most of them
possessed but little intelligence. One afternoon, about twenty minutes
past four, a gentleman entered the omnibus office at the George and
Blue Boar, Holborn, and inquired of the clerk whether omnibuses started
from there to a certain railway-station.
“Yes,” was the reply.
“At what hours?”
“One hour before each train.”
“Then I’m just in time to catch the 5.30 one.”
“It’s all down in writing on that there board.”
The traveller turned to the board, and, finding the 5.30 train entered
upon it, went out into the street to await the arrival of the omnibus.
But after pacing up and down for a quarter of an hour, and seeing no
sign of a conveyance, he returned to the office and enquired when it
would arrive.
“It’s gone,” the official said.
“Then it didn’t start from here,” the traveller declared. “I’ve been
waiting outside since twenty past four.”
“What train do you want to catch?”
“The half-past five, to be sure. I told you so.”
“Oh, we ain’t got no omnibus to catch that train.”
“But, man, you said that you had one to each train.”
“I told you it was all down in writing on that there board, and
you ought to have seen for yourself there ain’t no omnibus for the
half-past five.”
The traveller again turned to the board, and after glancing at it,
declared angrily, “There’s nothing of the kind stated here!”
The official pointed to a small cross against the 5.30 train, and said
triumphantly, “This here mark means there ain’t no omnibus.”
“Well, how was I to know that?”
“Most gentlemen, when they sees it, asks me what the deuce it means,
and I tells them.”
“But what do the others do?”
The clerk did not condescend to answer, but took out his pocket-knife
and busied himself in peeling an apple.
While the public was busily denouncing the behaviour of ’busmen, a
quaint vehicle, named the “equirotal omnibus,” was placed on the
streets. The inventor, Mr. W. B. Adams, maintained that all vehicles
should have four large wheels, instead of two large and two small, and
his omnibus was constructed on that principle. It was built in two
parts, which were joined together in the middle by a flexible leather
passage, to enable it to turn easily. “It will turn with facility
in the narrowest streets, without impeding the passage along the
interior,” Mr. Adams declared, “as the flexible sides move in a circle.
With this omnibus two horses will do the work of three; there will be
great facility of access and egress; perfect command over the horses;
increased ease to the passengers; greater head-room and more perfect
ventilation; greater general durability and absence of the usual
rattling noise, accompanied by entire safety against overturning.”
In spite of Mr. Adams’s recommendation, the “equirotal omnibus” did not
become popular, and had but a short career.
[Illustration: ADAMS’S EQUIROTAL OMNIBUS.]