A new Company--The London and District Omnibus Company--The London
Road Car Company, Limited--Its first omnibuses--The garden seats--The
flag and its meaning--Foreigners’ idea of it--Ticket system--The great
strike--The London Co-operative Omnibus Company--Mr. Jenkins and
advertisements--The Street Traffic Bill--Outside lamps.
In May, 1878, several influential City men came to the conclusion
that there was an opening in London for a new omnibus company, and,
believing that the venture would be very profitable, they decided
to start one. Remembering, perhaps, where Shillibeer and the London
General Omnibus Company received their inspiration, the promoters
deputed one of their number to visit Paris, to inspect the omnibuses
at work in that city and to take particular notice of the new vehicles
being displayed at the Exhibition by the Paris Omnibus Company.
After a stay at Paris, this gentleman proceeded to other Continental
capitals, and made himself acquainted with the latest improvements
in the omnibuses at work in those cities. On his return to London,
with a stock of useful ideas, the formation of the new London company
was proceeded with at once. The prospectus was drawn up, Memorandum
and Articles of Association were prepared, a Board was formed, and
everything was proceeding satisfactorily, when quarrels broke out among
the proposed Directors. One of them was the owner of a patent omnibus,
and proprietorship invested it, in his eyes, with an excellence and
superiority over all other omnibuses which his colleagues could not
perceive. They refused his request to make this patent omnibus the
vehicle of the new company, and that was the cause of the first
quarrel. The second, which followed it closely, was also of a personal
nature, one man being convinced that he was the best qualified of
the Board to become Managing Director, while the others expressed
quite a contrary opinion. The result of these quarrels was that the
scheme for a new London omnibus company was withdrawn, and not brought
forward again until two years had elapsed. Everything went smoothly
at the second attempt, and on August 3, 1880, the London and District
Omnibus Company, Limited, was incorporated, under the Companies
Act, with a capital of £200,000, divided into 20,000 shares of £10
each. On April 7, 1881, the name of the Company was changed to the
London Road Car Company, Limited. Six days later the Company began
work in a very modest way with three omnibuses, which ran between
Hammersmith and Victoria. These omnibuses, all drawn by three horses,
were very different from those which the Company now possesses, and in
appearance were rather ungainly. The front wheels were very small, and
the back ones large. There was no door, or staircase, at the back of
the omnibus, and all passengers had to get on the vehicle just behind
the coachman. It was found, however, that many accidents occurred
to passengers whilst entering and alighting, and, consequently, an
alteration was decided upon. The omnibus was turned right about, the
back being made the front. The old wheels, which had a crank action,
were removed, and ordinary ones substituted. The coachman was promoted
to a seat on top of the omnibus, but the door remained unaltered. The
steps were considerably improved.
The Company now possesses 455 omnibuses, or “cars,” as it prefers to
call them, and a stud of 5206 horses, not including those used in the
Jobbing Department.
[Illustration: THE LONDON ROAD CAR COMPANY’S FIRST OMNIBUS.]
In the matter of outside accommodation for passengers, the improved
omnibuses of the London Road Car Company were far in advance of those
belonging to all other companies and proprietors. In place of the
ordinary uncomfortable longitudinal seats, which so frequently led
to squabbles between people sitting back to back, the London Road
Car Company had the now common and popular garden seats. It was an
innovation which met with unqualified approval from the public. To
ladies it was a boon which they had never even expected, so accustomed
were they to being relegated to the inside of omnibuses. To clamber to
the top of the knife-board omnibuses was an impossibility with most of
them, and the athletic few who did not find the task an arduous one
were rewarded by being considered exceedingly unladylike. In fact,
until the London Road Car Company started work, it was an unusual
sight to see a female on the top of an omnibus. But now, when the
weather is fine, few ladies ride inside if there be room for them on
the roof. Truly, the fair sex should be very grateful to the London
Road Car Company. Pickpockets, certainly, were deeply indebted to it,
for the backs of the garden seats were open, and afforded them special
facilities for the exploration of ladies’ pockets. After a time this
defect was altered.
The popularity of the garden-seat omnibuses did not benefit the
London Road Car Company alone, for other companies and proprietors,
following its example, built all their new omnibuses with similar
seats and staircases. Many of their knife-board omnibuses--too new
to be discarded--were converted into the popular style of vehicle.
Some of these converted omnibuses were, it must be confessed, a
ghastly failure, for, although there was no fault to be found with
the staircase, the arrangement on the roof was not only inconvenient,
but highly dangerous. The gangway was raised, sometimes almost to a
level with the outside rail, and passengers had to be very careful, in
stepping down from it to take their seats, that they were not pitched
head-first into the road. Fortunately, the worst specimens of these
converted omnibuses have long since disappeared from the London streets.
It is surprising that garden-seat omnibuses were not introduced into
London long before the Road Car Company was formed, as they had been in
use in some Continental cities for thirty years.
At the outset of its career, the London Road Car Company adopted, as
a distinctive sign, the diminutive Union Jack which flies at the fore
of all its omnibuses. This flag was intended, also, to intimate to the
public that the Company was floated with British capital, but, as very
few Londoners were aware of the French origin of the London General
Omnibus Company, the hint was not generally understood. Strangely
enough, this appeal to the patriotism of Englishmen, has resulted
in the Company receiving a large amount of support from foreigners
visiting London. They imagine that the Union Jack is a sign that the
omnibuses are State-subsidised vehicles, and, to avoid falling into
the hands of the dreaded pirates--for the London pirates’ notoriety
has reached the chief Continental cities--they will ride in no omnibus
which does not carry a flag. Sometimes they stand for a long while
looking for an omnibus with the Union Jack flying, to discover,
eventually, that there are no Road Car omnibuses on that route. One
French lady stood at Marble Arch for more than half an hour before a
policeman could convince her that no “’bus with a flag” ran to what she
called Crick-le-Wood.
[Illustration: A ROAD CAR COMPANY OMNIBUS, 1901.]
The London Road Car Company’s flags have on several occasions been
utilised for arousing the enthusiasm of London crowds. On Sunday,
September 24, 1899, a few unpatriotic Englishmen desecrated the
plinth of Nelson’s Column by expressing therefrom sympathy with Great
Britain’s enemies. The reception accorded to them was, naturally,
very hostile, and, while the excitement was at its height, a Road Car
omnibus passed slowly through the crowd. A passenger, riding on top of
the omnibus, no sooner discovered the meaning of the angry shouts,
than he pulled the flagstaff from its socket, and waved aloft the
little Union Jack. Loud cheers greeted his action, and the pro-Boer
orators were taught speedily that Londoners had a healthy objection to
their foolish, un-English ravings.
Another innovation of the London Road Car Company was the ticket
system, which, although it had been in use on trams for many years,
had not, hitherto, been tried on omnibuses. Tickets had certainly been
issued on the omnibuses belonging to the Metropolitan Railway, which
ran from Portland Road Station to Piccadilly Circus, but it was on a
different system entirely. The Metropolitan Railway omnibuses of those
days were not like those in use at the present day. They were larger,
and the inside was divided into two compartments, the first-class
being the portion near the horses. The compartments were separated by
a curtain. These omnibuses were patronised chiefly by people residing
in the suburbs, tickets being issued at the Metropolitan Railway
stations to carry passengers through by train and ’bus to Piccadilly
Circus. The conductor collected the railway tickets on the omnibus,
and issued other tickets to passengers who had not come by train.
These omnibuses were drawn by three horses harnessed abreast. At the
present day, almost the only omnibuses drawn by three horses abreast
are the red “Favorites”--big, ungainly things, which run from Highgate
and Islington to the City. They carry nearly fifty passengers, but, in
consequence of their size, are not allowed to be in the City after 10
a.m.
[Illustration: A METROPOLITAN RAILWAY “UMBRELLA” OMNIBUS, 1901.]
The ticket system having worked successfully on the London Road Car
Company’s omnibuses, the London General Omnibus Company, and the
companies and proprietors working in conjunction with it, announced,
at the beginning of May, 1891, their intention of adopting it--a
decision which created the greatest indignation among their conductors
and coachmen, whose incomes had for many years been greatly in excess
of the value of their services. Scores of conductors have declared
since, that in those days they made frequently as much as eight or ten
shillings a day beyond their wages, and that, too, after they had paid
their coachman his share of the plunder. The companies and proprietors
were well aware that the men had been in the habit of keeping back a
portion of the daily earnings, but it is doubtful whether they knew
the extent to which the practice had grown, for ’busmen, before the
strike, were too cautious to talk of what they earned. It was only
years after that they began to speak regretfully, and yet with pride,
of the prosperous days which preceded the introduction of the ticket
system. However, the companies and proprietors promised the men an
increase in their wages, to atone for the pilferings which had been
winked at. But the additional money promised--two shillings a day--did
not make the men’s income anything like as large as that to which they
were accustomed, and, in their wrath, they vowed to strike. On the
night of Saturday, May 6, 1891, after the majority of omnibuses had
finished running, large meetings of ’busmen were held in various parts
of London, and, amidst intense enthusiasm, the men pledged themselves
not to return to work until their grievance had been satisfied. The
following morning the strike began all over London, the Road Car
men, who were scarcely interested in the matter, seeing that they had
used tickets for years, ceasing work also. Some men remained loyal to
their employers, but their efforts to take out their omnibuses were
frustrated by the angry mobs of strikers gathered around the stable
gates. Day after day the strike dragged on, and for a week the London
streets looked quite unfamiliar--devoid of the omnibuses which lend so
much life to them. Pirates, of course, did not cease work, but they
were comparatively few in number, and were scarcely noticed. Every day
the pirates contributed to the strike fund, conscious that the longer
the strike lasted, the more profitable it would be for them. It did
not, however, last nearly so long as they had hoped, for, on Sunday,
May 14, the majority of the men returned to work--and to begin issuing
tickets.
[Illustration: A RED “FAVORITE,” 1901.]
But the men who did not go back to work decided to start a Company of
their own. It was called the London Co-operative Omnibus Company, and
all the conductors, coachmen, and horsekeepers employed by it were to
be shareholders in the venture. It started operations with one omnibus,
which created a little sensation in the streets by having a broom
fixed conspicuously at its fore. This broom was a public intimation of
the new Company’s intention to sweep the London General, the Road Car
and other companies and associations off the roads. But, in spite of
its boldness, the London Co-operative Omnibus Company did not prosper.
That single omnibus never had a companion, and, after a brief career,
it disappeared from the roads, and was bought, it is rumoured, by one
of the big companies it was intended to smash.
Shortly after the strike a clergyman, named Jenkins, who had gained
considerable notoriety by, among other eccentricities, persistently
refusing to show his ticket to tramway inspectors, turned his attention
to omnibuses. But as omnibus inspectors have not the power to compel
a passenger to show his ticket, Mr. Jenkins was able to enjoy himself
with impunity. However, after many quarrels with ’busmen about various
trivial matters, he hit, eventually, upon a real grievance. On nearly
all omnibuses a long narrow board bearing some advertisement, such
as “To Swan and Edgar’s,” was fixed, outside, across the middle of
the side windows. Mr. Jenkins, declared, with truth, that the boards
obstructed the view of passengers inside the omnibus, and thereby
frequently caused them to be carried beyond the place where they
wished to alight. On the same grounds he denounced the transparent
advertisements stuck on the side and front windows. His complaint
was warmly supported by the public, and the objectionable boards,
together with the advertisements on the front windows, were ordered to
be removed. The front window advertisements had been abolished but a
very short time when the police authorities compelled the proprietors
to block up those windows by placing on them the route the omnibus
travelled. Consequently the state of affairs, as far as the front
windows were concerned, was worse than before. These route-bills have
since been reduced in size.
While Mr. Jenkins was denouncing omnibus tickets, inspectors and
advertisements, a quarrel occurred between the London General Omnibus
Company and the Camden Town Omnibus Association. The London General
Omnibus Company had become a member of this old-established association
many years previously by purchasing the stock and “times” of retiring
members, and worked amicably with its fellow proprietors until about
1896, when a difference of opinion arose concerning an extension of
a line of omnibuses. The Company severed its connection with the
Association, and at once started working in opposition to it by taking
omnibuses from the Finsbury Park and London Bridge route and running
them on the Camden Town road. This rivalry was continued for several
weeks, but eventually the dispute was settled and the Company rejoined
the Association. Had the quarrel been protracted the other associations
would, in all probability, have sided with the Camden Town body, and
Londoners would have witnessed an exciting, although perhaps not very
edifying, struggle.
The Camden Town omnibus fight was followed quickly by a more prolonged
one on the Putney road. A new line of omnibuses was started by the Era
Association--which was formed by certain proprietors not working in
conjunction with any of the companies or associations--from Fulham to
Charing Cross, _viâ_ West Kensington. Each of these omnibuses carried,
at first, a red flag, fixed by the side of the coachman, bearing the
inscription “No Monopoly.” As their fares were considerably cheaper
than those of other omnibuses, the London General Omnibus Company and
the Road Car Company’s men began to oppose them, and some very amusing
scenes were witnessed in the Brompton Road and Piccadilly. The Era
Association made a stout fight and started omnibuses from Putney to
Charing Cross at the exceedingly low price of twopence for the whole
distance. For a time these omnibuses scarcely ever made a journey
without being full inside and out, but when the two companies lowered
their fares to those of the Era there was a great falling off in the
number of the latter’s passengers. That was, of course, natural, for
when the fares were the same in all omnibuses there was no reason for
a thrifty person to wait until an “Era” came along. After a protracted
struggle the London General Omnibus Company, the Road Car Company, and
the Era raised their fares.
The Era Omnibus Association, which still has some omnibuses on the
roads, deserves credit for having placed a list of fares outside their
vehicles so that would-be passengers could see, before entering,
how much they would have to pay. They did so, of course, to show
that their fares were lower than those of the two companies, but,
nevertheless, it was an innovation which might well be followed by all
omnibus companies and proprietors. If omnibuses were compelled to have
a list of fares displayed on the nearside panel it would be a great
convenience to the public, and would, moreover, do much towards putting
an end to “pirates.” At present visitors to London do not know until
they have entered an omnibus how much they will be charged. If they sit
near the doorway they have to trust to the conductor--for they cannot
read the fares--and if it be a pirate omnibus they will assuredly be
overcharged.
Early in 1899 the Home Secretary, Sir Matthew White Ridley, brought in
a Bill for the better regulation of the street traffic of London, which
proposed to confer upon the police the power to relieve the congested
thoroughfares by diverting omnibuses from them. The Bill was a very
unpopular one, and Metropolitan members of the House of Commons were
bombarded with letters from their constituents urging them to vote
against it. In June Sir J. Blundell Maple, M.P., presented to the Home
Secretary a petition signed by over one hundred thousand regular riders
praying that the Street Traffic Bill, then before Parliament, should
be altered to preclude the possibility of omnibuses being diverted from
the main thoroughfares. Many thousands of signatures were received too
late to be included in the monster petition, which was presented in
the form of a huge volume. This unpopular Bill was withdrawn and, on
October 14, as a compliment to Sir J. Blundell Maple, who had worked
hard to obtain such a result, the ’busmen displayed his racing colours
on their whips and bell-cords. These favours they exhibited for three
days.
In July of the same year the London County Council issued an order that
on and after September 1, every omnibus should carry an outside front
lamp on the offside. Red, green, blue, and yellow lamps had for many
years been displayed by omnibuses running to the more distant suburbs,
but these had to be changed for white ones. When September 1 arrived,
very few of the omnibuses were provided with the necessary lamps, the
demand for which was greater than the supply. Some days’ grace was
allowed, and eventually every omnibus carried an outside lamp.