was not satisfied with the explanation, and detained the cab until a
policeman arrived. The sailor was then examined, and it was at once
evident that not only was he dead, but that he had been so for several
days. It was, in fact, a body-snatching job, and the rascals engaged
in it had dressed the corpse in sailor’s clothes to get it through the
streets without attracting attention. Instructed by the police, the
cabman drove to the place where he had been told to await the men,
but they did not appear to claim the body. They had evidently kept a
distant watch on the cab.
In the thirties and forties cabs were painted in most startling and
conflicting colours, the proprietors considering, apparently, that the
greater the contrast the more effective the result. A miniature white
horse, symbolic of the House of Hanover, was painted on the majority of
hansoms. On the sides of four-wheelers were depicted strange monsters
unknown to heraldry, zoology, or mythology. These were in imitation
of the armorial bearings so conspicuous on the panels of the old
hackney-coaches, which, as already stated, were generally discarded
family coaches.
In 1838, cabmen were compelled by Act of Parliament to take out a
licence and wear a badge. On the day of the distribution of badges,
many of the cabmen, attired in their best clothes, took a holiday. Some
half a dozen of them walked along the Strand with their badges fixed
conspicuously on their chests. A crowd soon collected around them, and
in it were two Frenchmen, one apparently showing the other the sights
of London. The latter inquired who the cabmen were, and an Englishman,
who understood French, was surprised to hear the following reply:--
“They are gentlemen who have been decorated by the Government in honour
of Her Majesty’s coronation.”
A new hansom, the “Tribus,” patented by Mr. Harvey of Lambeth House,
Westminster-bridge Road, was placed on the streets in 1844, but it was
not well patronised and was soon withdrawn. The “Tribus” carried three
passengers, and the entrance was at the rear, the driver’s seat being
removed further to the “offside.” The cabman was thus able to open
or shut the door without descending from his seat. There were five
windows to the vehicle, two being in front, one on each side, and one
behind--beneath the driver’s seat. Small safety wheels--such as can be
seen at the present day attached to many omnibuses--were fixed to the
front of the “Tribus” to prevent the vehicle pitching forward in the
event of the horse falling, a shaft breaking, or a wheel coming off.
[Illustration: THE TRIBUS. BACK VIEW.]
Mr. Harvey also patented the “Curricle Tribus,” a vehicle similar to
the “Tribus,” with the exception that it was drawn by two horses
abreast, did not possess safety wheels, and could be converted at
pleasure into an open carriage. The “Curricle Tribus,” however, never
plied for hire.
[Illustration: THE TRIBUS. SIDE VIEW.]
Another unsuccessful cab was the “Quartobus,” a four-wheeler with
accommodation for four inside passengers. It was introduced in 1844,
and Mr. Okey, the inventor, described it as “hung on four wheels, the
coupling being very close for easy draft.”
CHAPTER IV
A strike--Cabmen’s revenge on Members of Parliament--Cab
radius altered--Cabmen object to knocking at doors--The King
of Cabmen--Nicknames--A lady feared by cabmen--The kilometric
reckoner--Lord John Russell and “Palace Yard Jack”--Cab fares
altered--A strike against the introduction of lamps--Another
strike--The Cab-drivers’ Benevolent Association--The London Cabmen’s
Mission--The Hackney Carriage Proprietors’ Provident Institution--The
Cabmen’s Shelter Fund.
The cabmen’s reputation for being extortionate is by no means of
recent growth, but frequently men have been accused wrongfully. In
1853, a cabman was charged with demanding more than his legal fare,
the complainant declaring that although the distance travelled was
only three miles the defendant had charged as if it were five. Cabby
was sentenced to a month’s imprisonment, but before his time expired a
gentleman interested himself in his case, and paid to have the distance
officially measured. It was seven miles!
In the same year the Government imposed fresh regulations upon cabs,
and the fares, which had been eightpence a mile, and fourpence for
every additional half a mile, or portion of half a mile, were reduced
to sixpence for every mile, and for any part of a mile over and above
any number of miles completed. Mr. Thompson of Southampton Row, a
proprietor in a large way of business, had introduced those fares two
years previously.
The new regulations and the reduction of fares created great
indignation among both cab proprietors and cab drivers. The latter were
particularly enraged with the Members of Parliament, and hit upon a
way of expressing publicly their feelings towards them. When the House
rose on the night of July 26, and the members hurried out to go home,
they were astonished to see all the cabmen drive quickly away with
empty cabs. Some of them ran after the cabs; but the drivers declined
in most unparliamentary language to take them, and as many of the
honourable gentlemen who could not get a lift in friends’ carriages
had to walk home. The following morning there was not a cab to be
seen in the streets of London, for the cabmen were on strike. Members
of Parliament soon felt the want of cabs, and the Sergeant-at-Arms
personally asked Mr. Gamble, an omnibus proprietor, to oblige them by
running an omnibus for their sole convenience between the House and the
clubs. But Mr. Gamble, who was also a cab proprietor, and not just then
very well disposed towards Members of Parliament, declined to accede
to their request. The strike, however, only lasted for four days, for
when the men saw that the police permitted unlicensed vehicles to ply
for hire they returned to work. Nevertheless, they gained something by
the strike, for their grievances were investigated without delay, and
the following alterations made. The cab radius, which for twenty-four
years had been three miles from the General Post Office, was changed
to four miles from the statue of Charles I. at Charing Cross, and the
cabman was empowered to charge one shilling for every mile, or part of
one, which he should be required to drive beyond the radius, providing
that the cab was discharged beyond it. Moreover, the tax on each cab
was reduced from ten shillings a week to a shilling a day.
The success which attended the first cab strike of any importance
incited cabmen to think of other grievances, and from that year to
this they have never been without a good supply of them. Some were
reasonable, but the majority were imaginary or frivolous. Of the
latter nothing need be said. Of the former, one of the chief was that
passengers expected cabmen to get down and ring the bell or knock
at the door of the house where they wished to alight. For years the
cabmen’s objection to performing this duty was a source of continual
squabbles, and consequent police-court cases. But at length one
magistrate decided that cabmen were not obliged to ring bells or knock
at doors. Other magistrates agreed with him and cabmen were jubilant.
But an old gentleman, who used cabs daily, objected strongly to the
new arrangement and determined to teach the cabmen a lesson. One cold
winter’s evening, he hired a cab and rode home--a shilling distance. On
arriving at his destination, he requested the cabman to knock at the
street door. But cabby declined to do so. “This is a free country,” he
said, “and knocking at doors ain’t no part of my duty.”
“Very well, then,” the old gentleman replied, looking at his watch,
“by the law of this free country I sentence you to remain idle, in
the cold, for fourteen minutes, without any addition to your fare.”
Then he went indoors and did not send out his shilling until fourteen
minutes had elapsed, for he knew that no waiting fare could be charged
until fifteen minutes had passed. Afterwards he informed the London
newspapers of what he had done, and suggested that their readers should
follow his example. Hundreds did, and the squabbles between cabmen
and their “fares” became more frequent than ever. For some years the
quarrel dragged on, but finally people ceased from commanding cabmen to
knock at doors, and when they particularly wished it done they asked
for it as a favour.
Another grievance of cabmen, before shelters were built for their
convenience, was the action of the police in summoning them for leaving
their cabs outside coffee-shops while having their dinner. “The King
of Cabmen,” a well-dressed, important-looking individual, whom the
public believed to be an aristocrat, although he was really the son of
a London tailor, protested publicly against their action by dining _al
fresco_ in the leading thoroughfares. He would pull up outside some
public-house or dining place in the Strand, Oxford Street, Haymarket,
Regent Street, or Piccadilly, spread a very clean table-cloth over the
top of his cab, and have his dinner brought out to him. Frequently he
dined outside West-end clubs, his dinner being sent out by members
who sympathised with him. “The King of Cabmen” was also known as
“Nonpareil.” When sixpenny fares were introduced, “Nonpareil” took a
prominent part in denouncing the action of the Government, and whenever
a passenger offered him sixpence he haughtily suggested tossing him
“double or quits.”
Cabmen have always been fond of bestowing nicknames upon their
comrades, and at the present day there are men named “Busy Bee,” “Dan,
the policeman,” “Engineer Charley,” “Piggy,” “Nicodemus,” “Bill King
about Jermyn Street,” “Harry of Halfmoon Street,” “Father Christmas,”
“Hospital Jack,” “Rhoderic Dhu,” “Old Pickles,” “Topsy,” “Bustler,”
“Old London,” “Australian Jack,” “Candle-dipper,” “Mr. Smith,”
“Doctor,” “Sloane Square Sailor Jack,” and “Joe in the Copper.” Cabmen
also bestow nicknames upon their masters, the cab proprietors, and,
in the majority of cases, they are of an uncomplimentary nature.
Those existing at the present day must remain unknown beyond the
circle of cabmen, but there is no harm in publishing nicknames applied
to proprietors long since dead. “Whooping-cough Bill” was so named
because he filled up pauses in his conversation with nervous little
coughs. “Pious Tommy” would allow no swearing in his yards. “Jack the
giant-killer” was barely five feet two in height. “Darling Joey” had
been married three times. “Skin ’em alive” never allowed his men any
credit, and “Boozey Bill” was a teetotaler. Cab proprietresses usually
were named from something striking about their personal appearance.
“Ginger Sal” needs no explanation. “Beautiful Kate” was exceedingly
plain, and “Fairy Emma” was so stout that she could scarcely walk.
Another woman, very good-looking, but domineering and detested by all
cabmen who had business transactions with her, was known throughout
London as “The Queen of Hell.”
There was another woman, not an owner of cabs, who was feared by all
the cabmen of London, and consequently had more uncomplimentary names
bestowed upon her than any other woman ever had. Mrs. Prodgers, the
lady in question, obtained considerable fame through her constant
squabbles with cabmen. Possessing an extensive and unique knowledge of
cab law and London mileage, she made a point of travelling the full
distance to which her shilling entitled her, with the result that
cabmen who did not know her usually demanded more than the legal fare.
Her reply was to take his number, and apply for a summons against
him. Frequently she summoned men who took what she offered without
demur, for she had practically appointed herself an inspector of cabs
and cabmen, and was as successful in discovering breaches of the
hackney-carriage regulations as the most energetic paid official could
have been. After a time she became so dreaded that the warning cry of
“Mother Prodgers” would send every cab within hail dashing away up side
streets to escape her. Even now there are scores of cabmen who cannot
hear her name mentioned without fuming with indignation.
The conditions of a cabman’s employment were, and still are, calculated
to encourage extortion. The cabby paid the owner a certain amount for
the loan of his cab, and his profits did not begin until he had earned
the hire money. Therefore, when a cabman, after waiting for hours on
the rank, obtained a “fare,” the temptation to overcharge was very
great. It was his first job that day, and it might be his last. He was
grateful for an extra shilling or sixpence, but if it were not offered
to him he endeavoured to obtain it by indulging in scathing remarks or
vulgar abuse. The fact that a cabman has a wife and children to support
may be considered extenuating circumstances, but it is poor consolation
for the unfortunate victims of his extortion.
With the idea of protecting the public against overcharge, an endeavour
was made, in 1858, to get attached to cabs a patent machine named
“The Kilometric Register,” which would indicate the number of miles
travelled and the fare to be paid. But the cabmen objected strongly to
such an innovation, and it was not made.
Lord John Russell was in the habit of riding home every night from the
House of Commons in a cab. The distance was short, and the cabmen all
knew that he paid a shilling for his ride. But one night a cabman,
well known as “Palace Yard Jack,” was surprised to find that Lord John
had placed a sovereign in his hand instead of a shilling. He saw
that the statesman had made a mistake, but having had a spell of bad
luck, and being in great need of a new pair of boots, he did not call
his lordship’s attention to the coin. But on the following night, as
“Palace Yard Jack” was sitting on his cab, Lord John Russell walked up
to him, and said:--
“You drove me home last night, I think.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“What did I give you?”
“A sovereign, my lord.”
“Well, what have you done with it?”
“Bought a new pair of boots; and”--sticking out his feet--“look, my
lord, they’re Russells, not Wellingtons.”
Lord John Russell smiled and walked away, leaving “Palace Yard Jack” to
boast of his smartness.
In 1860 there were upwards of 4300 licensed cabs in London, and 200
cabstands.
Three years later Mr. Thomas Tilling started four cabs, and at the
present day his successors, Thomas Tilling, Limited, possess over sixty.
The minimum cab fare of one shilling was introduced in 1867. For that
sum a passenger could ride two miles, the fare for any additional
distance ridden being sixpence a mile or part of a mile. This abolition
of sixpenny fares gave great satisfaction to cabmen; but another
regulation filled them with indignation. In December, 1867, Parliament
gave power to the Chief Commissioner of Police to insist upon all cabs
carrying, between sunset and sunrise, “at least one lamp properly
trimmed and lighted.” Hansoms, or the majority of them, had for many
years carried a lamp, but the proprietors and drivers of four-wheelers
protested strongly against being put to the expense while vans and
private carriages were permitted to be without lights. The hansom
drivers supported the four-wheeler men, and on December 3 the whole
of the cabmen went on strike. A promise was immediately made that the
Police order should not be enforced, and on December 5 the men returned
to work. However, two years later Parliament passed an Act compelling
all cabs to carry a lighted lamp from sunset to sunrise.
The next strike began in September, 1868, and was an attempt to compel
the Railway Companies to abolish the “privilege” system and admit all
cabs to their termini. It was, however, shortlived and unsuccessful.
On January 1, 1870, a new regulation, compelling all cab proprietors
to display inside their vehicles a list of fares, came into force.
Four-wheelers were to have them fixed or painted on their doors;
hansoms, facing the passengers. By the same Act the cost of licences
was reduced from £19 and £17 to £2 2_s._
In the same year the Cab-drivers’ Benevolent Association was founded,
to make some provision for deserving aged or infirm cabmen unable to
earn their living. The late Marquis of Townshend, a staunch friend of
cabmen, took an active part in establishing it, and for many years it
was known among cabbies as “The Marquis’s Society.” The objects of the
Association, of which His Majesty the King is patron, are (1) to give
annuities of £20 each to aged cab-drivers who from infirmity are unable
to earn their living; (2) to grant loans, without interest, to members
requiring such aid, and to give temporary assistance to those who may
be in distress through unavoidable causes; (3) to give legal assistance
to members who may be unjustly summoned to the police-courts.
In 1900 the Society had sixty-five annuitants, and also granted small
loans to seventy-six members, nearly the whole of which were repaid.
Cabmen becoming members while under thirty years of age pay an annual
subscription of 5_s._ and an entrance fee of 2_s._ If over thirty the
entrance fee is 3_s._ There is also a Widow and Orphan Relief Fund, for
which an additional subscription of 2_s._ a-year has to be paid.
At the annual meeting of the Society in March, 1900, Benjamin
Heppelthwaite, aged 74, was elected one of the annuitants; but,
feeling that he was still able to work, he waived his right to the
annuity, which was then given to the highest unsuccessful candidate.
Heppelthwaite’s generous behaviour did not go unrewarded. The chairman,
Viscount Duncannon, at once announced that he would give Heppelthwaite,
for the next twelve months, a sum equal to the annuity which he had
refused in favour of a weaker friend.
In 1871 the London Cabmen’s Mission was started in premises adjoining
the King’s Cross Station of the Metropolitan Railway, and during
the thirty years of its existence has done much to improve the moral
character of cabmen. Religious services for cabmen and their families
are held at the hall at King’s Cross on four days in each week, and
the missionary also visits the men on the ranks to talk with them and
distribute bright, wholesome magazines.
We read, frequently, in the daily papers, of cabmen being drunk while
at work, and it will, therefore, surprise many people to hear that
there is a large number of total abstainers among London cab-drivers.
During the summer months a cabmen’s Gospel Temperance meeting is held
every Sunday evening on the stand outside King’s Cross Railway Station.
The speakers and singers are all cabmen. Last year they held, at the
same spot, an open-air Harvest Festival. Fruit, flowers, vegetables and
bread were displayed on the temporary platform, and a cabman sang, “Oh,
what shall the harvest be?” At the conclusion of the service the fruit,
flowers, and other gifts, were taken in cabs and given to a Rescue Home.
The London Cabmen’s Mission also distributes among the men, woollen
mufflers, cuffs and hosiery--presents which are greatly appreciated.
One lady subscriber gave the Mission six dozen sun-bonnets for
cab-horses, and thereby added to the comfort of the animals and the
gaiety of the streets.
Another very excellent society, the “Hackney Carriage Proprietors’
Provident Fund,” was founded, by the late Mr. Herbert Rymill, in April,
1873. It was started to establish a fund for providing annuities of £26
to aged, decayed, or disabled cab proprietors or their widows, and to
afford temporary relief to its members or to the widows and children
of deceased members. It was registered under the Friendly Societies
Acts in July, 1878, and in January, 1887, its title was changed to the
“Hackney Carriage Proprietors’ Provident Institution.” For an annual
subscription of £1 1_s._ a member is able to make provision against
misfortune. Many a cab proprietor has, through no fault of his own,
been reduced from comfortable circumstances to want. One of his horses
may have contracted glanders in consequence of the driver foolishly
permitting it to drink at a public trough; the disease spreads through
his stables and a number of his horses have to be destroyed. To a
wealthy cab proprietor this is a serious loss, but to a man who
owns only three or four cabs it would mean ruin but for the “Hackney
Carriage Proprietors’ Provident Institution’s” assistance in helping
him to tide over his difficulties. And it must be remembered that the
majority of cab proprietors are small owners; on December 31, 1900,
there were 2782 licensed cab proprietors in London, and of these 2207
owned from one to five vehicles.
The “Hackney Carriage Proprietors’ Provident Institution” had been
in existence barely two years when the “Cabmen’s Shelter Fund” was
started. Its object was to provide for cabmen on the ranks a place
where they could obtain protection from the weather, and purchase good,
wholesome food at moderate prices.
On February 6, 1875, the first shelter for London cabmen was opened
in Acacia Road, St. John’s Wood, by the Hon. Arthur Kinnaird, M.P.,
Vice-President of the Society. Among the crowd which had assembled to
witness the ceremony were some thirty or forty cabmen who came, as
representatives of their class, to do honour to the occasion. By the
end of the year the Society had placed thirteen shelters in various
parts of the Metropolis, and, at the present time, it possesses
forty-three, a dozen of which are open day and night. Many of these
were presented to the Society; the one in Palace Yard, Westminster,
by members of both Houses of Parliament, and those at Pont Street,
Belgrave Square, St. George’s Square, S.W., Clapham Common, Kensington
Crescent, Royal Crescent, Uxbridge Road, Piccadilly, Warwick Road,
Maida Vale, and the one near the Oratory, Brompton Road, by residents
in those neighbourhoods. The shelter at Portland Road Station was
presented by the residents of Richmond. The remainder were either
erected by the Fund or presented to it by various individuals. The
entire cost of the new shelter now being erected in the Haymarket has
been defrayed by Sir Squire Bancroft.
The forty-three shelters maintained by the Society are used daily by
nearly four thousand cabmen. The attendants in charge of the various
shelters make their living by selling provisions to the frequenters,
and cooking, at a charge of one penny, any food they may bring in.
Every shelter is divided into two compartments--a mess-room and a small
kitchen. The mess-rooms are supplied with newspapers, and some of them
possess small libraries.
In the mess-rooms the following rules are displayed:--
1. This Shelter is the property of the Cabmen’s Shelter Fund and is
for the use of CAB-DRIVERS solely.
2. The Drivers of the FIRST TWO CABS on the rank are not to enter the
Shelter.
3. No bad language, card-playing, betting, or gambling allowed.
4. The Attendant in charge is authorised to sell Tea, Coffee, and
Bread and Butter to the Drivers using the Shelter only, at prices as
per Tariff.
5. The Attendant is instructed to see that the above Rules are
strictly kept.
Any complaints as to attendance, quality of refreshments sold, etc.,
etc., must be made to the Hon. Sec., and will be at once attended to.
The Committee appeal to the good sense and feeling of the Drivers to
help in maintaining the respectability of this Shelter, and by every
means in their power to prevent its being damaged.
During one of the recent cab strikes an attempt was made at some
shelters to prevent non-strikers from using them. This was, of course,
in direct opposition to the rules of the Society, and the strikers were
taught that the shelters are for all cab-drivers.
CHAPTER V
Cab show at Alexandra Palace--Forder’s cab--The strike of 1894--Cabmen
become organ-grinders--The Asquith award--Boycotting the railway
stations--The “Bilking Act.”
On October 4, 1875, a Cab and Cab-Horse Show was opened at the
Alexandra Palace, and attracted a large number of people to Muswell
Hill. The first prize for the most convenient and best appointed
hansom cab was awarded to Messrs. Forder, who also exhibited one of
the same type which they had built for the Prince of Wales. Two years
previously, a cab built by this firm had been awarded the Gold Medal
of the Society of Arts, and this identical hansom won at the Alexandra
Palace the second prize for vehicles which had been at work for not
less than six months. Forder’s cab had been working in the London
streets for two years.
In the class for horses which had been at cab work for not less than
eight years, during which they must have been the property of the
exhibitor, the first prize was won by Mrs. Ruth Farmer, whose bay mare,
aged twenty, had been in constant work for seventeen years.
Prizes were also offered for cabmen who had retained their badges
and been exempt for the longest period from any charge of cruelty to
animals, reckless driving, drunkenness or any other offence, and who
had constantly driven for upwards of ten years. The winner of the first
prize had been a cab-driver for forty-six years.
The long service and good conduct prize was awarded to a cabman who
had been for thirty-five years in the service of his master, and the
Temperance prize was won by a driver who had been a teetotaler for
twenty-nine years.
Strikes, and threats to strike, have been exceedingly numerous since
1853. On some occasions the cabmen objected to Government regulations,
and on others their quarrels were with the cab proprietors. It had been
the complaint of cabmen, for very many years, that the prices charged
by proprietors for the hire of their cabs were too high, and in May,
1894, they determined to make a strenuous effort to get them reduced.
On the morning of May 10 they held a meeting in a hall at Bell Street,
Edgware Road, to discuss the advisability of striking, in the event
of the cab owners refusing to accede to their demands, the chief of
which was that the hiring-price of 16_s._ or 17_s._ a day should be
reduced by three shillings. The meeting was enthusiastic, and decided,
promptly, to strike unless the cab proprietors made the reduction which
they wanted. Negotiations were then opened with the cab proprietors,
who refused, however, to comply with the men’s request, pointing out,
in support of their decision, that, as a large number of cabmen never
worked more than four or five days a week, it was evident that they
made a very good living, and could, if they liked, make a still better
one.
In consequence of the cab proprietors’ attitude, a mass meeting was
held at midnight on May 14 at the Novelty Theatre, and the place was
so crowded that an overflow meeting had to be held in the street.
The resolution, pledging the men to strike, was moved and carried
with tremendous enthusiasm by both meetings. The following morning
the strike began, but, contrary to the expectation of most people,
there were many cabs plying for hire. The majority of these belonged
to proprietors in a small way of business who had submitted to the
Union’s demands and were permitted, therefore, to run. Men who drove
their own cabs were also allowed to work, but both class of vehicles
had to affix the Union’s labels on their windows. The former bore the
legend, “Fair-priced cab,” while the latter carried an announcement
that they were working by permission of the Union. Three thousand Union
labels were issued, and, as far as the public was concerned, the strike
was not very serious. There was a little difficulty at the railway
stations on the first day about getting sufficient cabs, and some
people complained that they could not procure them after the theatres
closed. Considering, however, that nearly nine thousand cabs were kept
off the streets, it is truly surprising that far greater inconvenience
was not caused to the public. Many people said it was a conclusive
sign that at ordinary times there are far too many cabs in London. Of
course, the cabs which were permitted by the Union to run earned plenty
of money, but the drivers were not allowed to keep all of it. Those who
worked were expected to contribute towards the support of those who
did not, and, for once in a way, that was a perfectly fair arrangement.
Certain of the men on strike were sent out daily by the Union to sell
tickets to the men at work. These tickets were of various prices, and
the colour indicated their value. When a cabman bought one he stuck it
in his hat, so that his fellowmen might see to what extent he was doing
his duty. But selling tickets was by no means the only way in which the
Union raised money to carry on the strike. Cabmen were sent out with
street organs, and for many days ground out music from morning till
night with very satisfactory results--from a pecuniary point of view.
’Busmen chaffed them unmercifully about these organs for many months
after, and an argument between a cabby and a ’busman invariably ended
in the latter advising the former to take his cab home and bring out
his organ.
When the strike had lasted for nearly a month, a Board of Conciliation
was formed to settle, if possible, the dispute. Cab proprietors and
strikers were both represented, the Home Secretary (Mr. H. H. Asquith)
acting as mediator. After a few meetings had been held at the House of
Commons, Mr. Asquith made his award, which was as follows:--
June 4 to July 15, 6 weeks at 16_s._ per day.
July 16 “ “ 22, 1 “ “ 15_s._ “ “
“ 23 “ “ 29, 1 “ “ 14_s._ “ “
“ 30 “ August 5, 1 “ “ 13_s._ “ “
August 6 “ “ 12, 1 “ “ 12_s._ “ “
“ 13 “ “ 19, 1 “ “ 11_s._ “ “
“ 20 “ October 21, 9 “ “ 10_s._ “ “
October 22 “ “ 28, 1 “ “ 11_s._ “ “
“ 29 “ January 14, 11 “ “ 12_s._ “ “
January 15 “ April 1, 11 “ “ 11_s._ “ “
April 2 “ “ 15, 2 “ “ 12_s._ “ “
“ 16 “ May 6, 3 “ “ 13_s._ “ “
May 7 “ “ 20, 2 “ “ 14_s._ “ “
“ 21 “ June 3, 2 “ “ 15_s._ “ “
“The above scale is to regulate the net cash price to be paid per day
by driver to owner for first-class street hansom cabs from this date.
It is to be subject to revision as from the first Monday in April,
1895, if within fourteen days prior to that date notice demanding
revision is given to me by, or on behalf of, either of the parties to
the agreement of this day.”
The award was dated June 11, 1894, and two days later the cabmen went
back to work. On the 27th of the same month Mr. Asquith fixed the
following scale for four-wheeled cabs:--
(1) The net cash price to be paid by driver to owner for best street
iron-tyred four-wheeled cabs, with two horses per day, to be according
to the subjoined scale:--
May 14 to July 22, 10 weeks at 13_s._ per day.
July 23 “ August 12, 3 “ “ 12_s._ “ “
August 13 “ September 9, 4 “ “ 11_s._ “ “
September 10 “ March 26, 28 “ “ 10_s._ “ “
March 27 “ April 9, 2 “ “ 11_s._ “ “
April 10 “ May 14, 5 “ “ 12_s._ “ “
(2) The net cash price to be paid by driver to owner for rubber-tyred
four-wheeled cabs to be in all cases 1_s._ (one shilling) over the
price for iron-tyred four-wheeled cabs.
(3) The net cash price to be paid by driver to owner for four-wheeled
cabs worked on the one-horse principle to be according to the
subjoined scale:--
June 4 to July 29, 8 weeks at 8_s._ per day
July 30 “ April 2, 35 “ “ 6_s._ 6_d._ “ “
April 3 “ May 7, 5 “ “ 7_s._ “ “
May 8 “ June 3, 4 “ “ 7_s._ 6_d._ “ “
(4) The actual amount charged by the Railway Companies for privileged
cabs to be paid by the drivers to the owners in addition to the above.
Londoners were heartily glad when the strike was at an end; not
because they had suffered very much inconvenience from it, but out of
sympathy for the women and children, for strike pay is not magnificent.
Nevertheless, over a thousand men were thankful to receive it for
many weeks after the strike was concluded. These were men who found
themselves out of work through cab proprietors having sold off their
stock and retired from business in disgust. The balance-sheet of
the Cab-drivers’ Union dealing with the strike showed that £8202 was
received, and £8111 spent from the beginning of the strike until July
28.
The next strike began in September, 1896, and aimed at compelling
the Railway Companies to allow all cabs the privilege of entering
their termini to pick up fares. The drivers refused to work for any
proprietor who had privileged cabs, and pressure was put upon the
drivers of the latter vehicles to cease work until the Railways
agreed to the Union’s demands. The number that did so, however, was
comparatively small. Then the strikers made the great mistake of trying
to get the public on their side by inconveniencing it. They refused to
take people into any terminus in which they were not allowed to pick up
fares, but put them down, luggage and all, outside the premises. But,
to their surprise, they found that their fares refused to pay unless
they were taken right into the station. So that plan was discarded
very quickly. The strike dragged on for many weeks, but the average
Londoner only knew that it existed by seeing Union mottoes adorning
the cabmen’s whips. Eventually it died peacefully of sheer weakness.
The year of this futile strike saw the passing of an Act which was
badly needed. Although “bilking” has never been so common as it was
in the days of back-door cabs, there has always been a number of
well-dressed rascals who make a point of swindling cabmen. Usually
they alight at some big shop or institution, telling the cab-driver
that they will be out again in a few minutes and will want to be taken
farther; then they enter the building and pass out by another door into
a different street, leaving the cabman to discover that he has been
“bilked.” The “Bilking Act,” as cabmen call the Act of 1896, made any
person who hired a cab knowing that he could not pay the legal fare,
or intending to avoid payment of it, liable to a fine of 40_s._, in
addition to the fare, or to be imprisoned for a term not exceeding
fourteen days. The whole or part of the fine could be given to the
cabman as compensation.
CHAPTER VI
Gentlemen cabmen--An applicant’s nerve--The doctor-cabby--John
Cockram--A drunken cabman’s horse.
Cab proprietors receive applications for work from all classes of
men. One morning a particularly dissipated-looking fellow strolled
into a cab-yard, not far from King’s Cross, and asked the proprietor
for a job, mentioning that he had driven most things in India from
a pony-trap to a four-in-hand, and did not anticipate the slightest
difficulty in driving a cab. The proprietor observed that it required
some nerve to drive a cab in London. “Nerve!” the applicant exclaimed.
“Well, I don’t think I’m deficient in that. One morning in India I
woke and found a cobra coiled up on my bed. It wasn’t a nice position
to find myself in, but I’d been in many a worse fix and didn’t lose
my presence of mind. I’m a bit of ventriloquist, and as there was
a big image of some old Hindoo god at the other end of the room I
immediately made it speak. As I expected, directly the cobra heard the
voice he slipped off the bed like a shot and went for the idol, while
I seized the opportunity to bolt from the room.” The cab proprietor
congratulated him on his presence of mind, but after appearing to
consult a well-worn book, declared that he had not a single vacancy.
The applicant did not seem very disappointed, and having succeeded in
borrowing twopence, departed.
Many aristocratic, military and professional men have at various
times driven a cab for a livelihood, and usually they have been
reduced to that strait through their own folly; but there have been
cases of young, well-educated men driving cabs for a period until
their prospects in life brightened. Only seven or eight years ago a
student at one of our great London hospitals passed his “final,” and
found himself in the painful position of being a qualified medical
man without any money. Unable to obtain a _locum tenens_ or an
assistantship, he applied for and received a cabman’s licence. Medical
students and their friends made a point of patronising him, and for
some months “the doctor” was one of the best-known cabmen in the West
End. He has now a very good provincial practice, but the money with
which he purchased the nucleus of it was not earned as a cabman. This
“doctor” is not the cabman referred to in Chapter IV. The latter, who
has been a driver for twenty-one years, is an old man.
An ex-cabman who is well known to many hundreds of Londoners is John
Cockram. He was born, in 1833, in French-horn Yard, Holborn, his father
being a cab proprietor in a small way of business. Cockram, senior,
died early in the forties, leaving a widow and four children totally
unprovided for. Moreover, he was deeply in debt to a horse dealer, who
speedily caused the stock-in-trade and household furniture to be seized
and sold. All that was left to the widow was a bed, a Prayer-book, a
Bible, and a watch which had been presented to her by the physician to
George IV., in whose service she had been prior to her marriage. Young
Cockram, although but eleven years of age, became the main support of
his mother, and a few years later she was entirely dependent upon him.
[Illustration: JOHN COCKRAM.]
In 1851 John Cockram became a cab-driver, but as he objected on
religious grounds to Sunday work, it was his ambition to possess a cab
of his own. Having saved £20, he purchased a horse, hired a cab, and
started business on his own account; but, as he followed Mr. Thompson’s
example and accepted sixpenny fares, he became unpopular with cabmen,
and a complaint was made to Sir Richard Mayne, the Chief Commissioner
of Police, that he was driving a cab while under age. But when Sir
Richard Mayne discovered that Cockram was the sole support of his
mother, and, moreover, thoroughly qualified for a cab-driver in every
respect, except age, he declined to prohibit him from driving. However,
there was trouble in store for Cockram. He had been a proprietor for a
very short time when his horse bolted, and the cab was smashed. Again
Cockram had to drive for a master, but this time he refused to drive on
Sundays.
“If you don’t take the cab out on Sunday, you shan’t on Monday,” the
proprietor declared; but Cockram at once offered to pay him 5_s._ every
Saturday night to allow his horse and cab to remain in the yard on the
following day. The proprietor agreed to this arrangement, and Cockram
drove for him for two years, during which time he paid off the money
which he owed for the smashed cab, and began educating himself, while
waiting on the rank, by studying _Cassell’s Popular Educator_.
In 1860 Cockram competed for and won a prize of £20 offered for the
best essay on “Sunday cab-driving, and its influence on the religious,
domestic, and physical condition of those employed.” Cockram wrote his
essay in the streets, using the top of his hansom as a writing-desk.
On the essay being published in book form, George Moore, the
philanthropist, Sir Hope Grant, and Mr. J. T. Delane, the editor of the
_Times_, sent for Cockram, congratulated him on his work, and made
many inquiries concerning Sunday cab work. Colonel H. Knollys mentions
in his “Life of General Sir Hope Grant,” that the General commissioned
Cockram to buy him a cheap cab-horse to use in his private hansom, and
promised him £5 for his trouble. Cockram purchased a horse for £38, but
refused to accept more than £2, his usual charge for such transactions.
Some years later Cockram published a useful little book entitled, “The
Horse in Sickness, and how to treat him.”
In 1862 Cockram and another young driver started business as cab
proprietors. Each had saved £100, and with their joint capital they
purchased seven horses, three cabs, and seven sets of harness. The
partners were of one opinion concerning Sunday work, and a clause was
inserted in their deed of partnership prohibiting either of them from
letting out, or using for their own pleasure, on Sunday, any horse or
vehicle. They prospered, and in 1877, the year in which they sold their
business, they possessed cabs, omnibuses, broughams, traps, and 126
horses.
Since retiring from business Mr. Cockram has been a member of the
Richmond Town Council and the Richmond Board of Guardians, and, in
June, 1895, gave evidence before the Select Committee of the House of
Lords on the Lord’s Day Act.
For many years Cockram has been an active member of the Open Air
Mission, and is frequently called upon to speak at meetings of the
Working Men’s Lord’s Day Rest Association, and kindred societies.
Although now sixty-eight years of age, he is still very energetic, and
when I last saw him--three or four months ago--he was preparing to
start off on his bicycle to hold a service many miles away from London.
Drunkenness has been the ruin of many cabmen, and the cause of numerous
accidents to the cab-riding public. Some people have had very narrow
escapes. Many years ago a lady and gentleman hailed a cab on the Grand
Parade, Portsmouth, and told the cabman to drive them to Landport
Station. They took no particular notice of the cabman, and on arriving
at the station were considerably surprised to see that everybody was
staring at them. On proceeding to pay their fare they discovered that
the cabman’s seat was empty, and the bystanders then informed them that
the cab arrived without any driver. The police took up the matter,
and discovered eventually that when the cabman picked up his fare he
was so intoxicated that before he had driven clear of the High Street
he had rolled from his seat into the middle of the road. The horse of
its own accord had taken the unsuspecting passengers in safety to their
destination.
In London, quite recently, two ladies driving in a hansom had a narrow
escape. They were engrossed in conversation when, suddenly, to their
surprise, they saw a policeman dash at their horse, and, after a few
moments’ struggle, bring it to a standstill. A large crowd collected
immediately, and not until then did the ladies become aware that their
horse had taken fright, that the cabman had been thrown from his seat,
and that for nearly a quarter of a mile the animal had been dashing
madly along uncontrolled. And then they understood that they had had a
narrow escape from being killed.
A four-wheel cab-horse took fright about four years ago near Hyde Park
Corner, and after a short but exciting run crashed into an omnibus. The
cab was damaged, and one of the omnibus horses received a bad cut. The
wounded animal was taken at once to a veterinary surgeon, who examined
the wound as thoroughly as the blood would permit and then sewed it
up. But it did not heal as quickly as he expected, and when three or
four weeks had expired he became convinced that there was some foreign
matter in the wound. So he opened it, and discovered, deeply embedded
in the flesh, the whole of one of the cab-door handles, for which cabby
had made a fruitless search soon after the accident.
CHAPTER VII
The Shrewsbury and Talbot cabs--The Court hansom--The Parlour
four-seat hansom--Electric cabs introduced--The “taxameter”--Empty
cabs--Number of cabs in London--Cab fares--Two-horse cabs.
From the introduction of hansoms and clarences until 1897, no new cab
of any importance was licensed. There were, however, several improved
hansoms placed upon the streets. The most important of these was Earl
Shrewsbury and Talbot’s indiarubber-tyred Forder-built cab, which was
introduced about 1880. In every respect the Shrewsbury and Talbot cabs
were superior to any others plying for hire, and their popularity
was assured from the first. Each of these cabs had S.T. surmounted
by a coronet painted above the side windows, and, as the wheels were
noiseless, small bells were placed on the horse.
But although Lord Shrewsbury and Talbot raised the standard of London
cabs, and thereby earned the gratitude of the travelling public, he is
not regarded with friendly feelings by other cab proprietors. They, or
the majority of them, declare that he ruined the cab trade. When the
Shrewsbury and Talbot cabs started work it became necessary for other
proprietors to have indiarubber tyres on their vehicles--an expense
which they grudged, as, being prevented by law from increasing the
fares, they saw no prospect of getting back their money.
In June, 1888, the Shrewsbury and Talbot Cab and Noiseless Tyre
Company, Limited, was formed, “to purchase, amalgamate, and carry on
(1) the business of a cab proprietor and job-master worked by the Right
Honourable the Earl of Shrewsbury and Talbot, and (2) the business of
manufacturers of steel and rubber tyres carried on by the Noiseless
Tyre Company, Limited, in Manchester and London.”
Other variations of the hansom were the “court” and the “parlour.” The
court-hansom is a four-wheeler with accommodation for two people, and
the driver’s seat is in the same position as in an ordinary hansom.
They are not numerous, but those that are plying for hire appear to be
well patronised.
[Illustration: PARLOUR’S HANSOM.]
In January, 1887, the “parlour four-seat hansom,” patented by Mr.
Joseph Parlour, was announced as about to be placed on the streets.
It was a very novel hansom. The driver sat at the back, with a
sliding door on either side of him, which he could open or close with
ease, permitting the riders to step from the vehicle on to the kerb.
Passengers sat face to face, two on each side. A hansom with a sliding
roof, and another with a movable hood, have also been tried in London.
One of the most important events in cab history occurred in 1897.
For more than a century English people, strong in their belief that
Mother Shipton’s prophecy would be fulfilled, have regarded with great
interest every attempt to invent horseless carriages. As long ago as
1771 our very good friend the horse was threatened with elimination,
if not extinction, and pictures of superannuated and disconsolate
horses gazing over a hedge at horseless vehicles careering along the
road, to the evident enjoyment of the riders, were almost as plentiful
as they were four years ago. In 1771 a horseless carriage, invented
by a mathematical instrument maker, had a trial run in the Artillery
ground near the Minories. The event aroused the greatest interest,
and the failure of the vehicle to realise the expectations formed of
it by no means disheartened the horseless carriage enthusiasts. They
declared that before long a reliable horseless carriage would certainly
be invented. In 1790 there was a belief that their prophecy had been
fulfilled, for invitations were sent out to members of the Society of
Arts, engineers, and all interested in mechanics and vehicular traffic
to attend a certain place on a stated day to inspect a horseless
carriage, which possessed the additional novelty of having one wheel
only. A large proportion of the invitations were accepted, and when
the expectant people had assembled, their host, with great ceremony,
led them to the coach-house and showed them the one-wheeled horseless
vehicle--a wheelbarrow!
After that incident, which was talked about all over England--much to
the disgust of the members of the Society of Arts who had attended the
private view--the interest in horseless vehicle invention subsided
for more than thirty years. When at last the craze did again break
out, cabs appear to have been overlooked. Steam barouches, vans and
omnibuses were invented in large numbers, but no one appears to have
tried his hand at a steam cab, and it was not until 1897 that horseless
cabs were placed on the London streets. These electric cabs were a
pleasing novelty to Londoners and were well patronised, but it must
be confessed that there were several objections to them. The want
of originality in their build was very marked, for in appearance,
although they only carried two passengers, they differed but little
from a four-wheeler minus the horse and shafts. But that is a trivial
objection compared with the following one which concerned the safety
of the public. There are many people living who have been knocked down
by carriages, cabs, omnibuses and vans, and have suffered little or
no injury because they happened, by chance or design, to roll under
the vehicle and thus escaped all four wheels. But if knocked down by
one of the electric cabs no such escape would have been possible, as
the accumulator was only a few inches from the ground, and would have
crushed to death any one who got beneath it.
[Illustration: ELECTRIC CAB.]
Many of our public vehicles are very badly lighted, but no such
complaint could be made against the electric cabs. They were, perhaps,
a little too brilliantly illuminated for the comfort of people of a
bashful disposition, who were worried by the thought that as they rode
along they were as conspicuous as if they were on the stage with the
limelight turned on them. If a man desired to ride through the streets
at night unobserved, he did not hire an electric cab. And it does not
follow that because a man wishes to escape notice that he is ashamed
of being seen. But, as before stated, the electric cabs, or “humming
birds,” as they were named by the cabmen, were well patronised while
on the streets, and certainly it was not for want of support that they
were withdrawn. Those indiarubber tyres which so constantly needed
attention were no doubt the cause of their withdrawal.
Barely had the electric cabs disappeared than an innovation was made
which, in years to come, will be considered one of the most important
events in the history of London cabs. On March 15, 1899, six cabs
fitted with a distance registering apparatus, named the “taxameter,”
started from the Hôtel Cecil on trial runs into different parts of
London, and on the following day they were plying for hire in the
streets, the drivers conspicuous with white silk hats. The taxameter is
a small species of clock fixed on the outside of the right-hand window
of the cab, and records at the end of every journey the distance
travelled and the legal fare which the passenger has to pay, whether
he has hired the cab by time or distance. It also registers extras
paid for luggage and waiting, the number of journeys made, the number
of miles travelled, and the total earnings of the day. When the cab is
empty, a little red flag, which can be seen from a distance, projects
from the side. Immediately a fare enters the cab the driver turns down
a lever, which lowers the red flag and causes the words “not engaged”
to disappear and be replaced by the tariff. When the end of the journey
is reached the cabman pulls up the lever, and the distance travelled
and the fare to be paid appears on the dial.
The cabmen were to be paid a wage of £2 2_s._ for a week of six days
and a percentage on the earnings, and evidently there were many men
who would have been glad to work on those terms, for in answer to the
Taxameter Syndicate’s advertisement for six drivers, three hundred
men applied. By the public and the press the taxameter was received
with the warmest approval, for it promised a check on the extortion,
and abuse accompanying it when practised on women, which has of late
become painfully common among some London cabmen, and has earned for
them a notoriety which will take many years to live down. Women can
travel in London by train, tram, omnibus and boat without fear of
extortion and incivility, but they know from bitter experience, that
every time they hire a cab they are running a risk of being cheated and
afterwards abused for daring to utter a protest. Women, therefore, were
naturally very pleased when they heard of the new check, but their joy
was short-lived, for the Cab-drivers’ Union interfered, and declared
that any man who drove a taxameter cab was a “black-leg.” The reasons
given for this decision were by no means satisfactory, and the only
conclusion that an unbiassed person can arrive at is, that the majority
of cabmen, in spite of their constant complaints about their difficulty
of earning a living, made, partly by overcharging, considerably more
than the £2 2_s._ a-week and percentage of earnings offered by the
Taxameter Syndicate. As the drivers would not take out taxameter cabs,
the proprietors were compelled to remove the register from them. But
the taxameter is far too useful an innovation to be suppressed at the
word of the Cab-drivers’ Union. The public must remember that the
taxameter gives them the protection for which they have been sighing
for years, and that if they are determined to enjoy its benefits the
Cab-drivers’ Union is powerless to prevent the boon. It may order a
strike, but the spectacle of men refusing to work because they are not
allowed to overcharge their customers will be more novel than edifying.
Let us hope, however, that the cabmen will not be so foolish as to
think of striking, but will recognise that the taxameter is bound to
come into general use, and when it is again tried will accept the
innovation with a good grace.
The taxameter was tried first in 1894 on a few cabs in Berlin, and met
with considerable opposition from both cab proprietors and drivers. But
the public appreciated the innovation, and patronised those cabs which
had the register to such an extent that the opposition was overcome
quickly, and soon 5500 of the 8000 cabs plying for hire in Berlin were
fitted with the taxameter. In Hamburgh, Vienna, Dresden, Stockholm
and numerous other Continental cities the taxameter is in use, and
growing in public favour. It is also at work, or has been tried, in
Manchester, Leeds, Liverpool and Bradford, and it will be strange
indeed if in the course of a few years every public cab in London and
the Provinces is not fitted with it.
On Queen Victoria’s eightieth birthday electric cabs were placed once
more on the streets. But in appearance they had not been altered for
the better. The original cabs were painted tastefully in two colours,
the upper part black and the lower part yellow, but the new ones
were black entirely. Moreover, the new cabs were taller than the
original ones, and the added inches gave them a clumsy appearance. The
accumulator was, as in the previous cabs, only a few inches from the
ground. After plying for hire for a few weeks they were taken off the
streets and have not yet reappeared.
The electric cab that is to be an all-round success has not yet been
invented, but experience is being bought, and it will be strange if
we have to wait long for it. But that it will ever supersede entirely
the horse-drawn hansom is far from being likely, for while you meet
hundreds of people who have had one ride in an electric cab, you come
across very few who have had two. It is not because their experience
was unpleasant that they have not had a second one, but because it was
not so enjoyable as a ride in a horse-drawn cab. Apparently the hansom
cab has every prospect of retaining its popularity for another sixty
years.
But, in spite of the hansom’s popularity, Londoners had complained
for a considerable period of the obstruction caused by empty hansoms
crawling along the streets plying for hire. Throughout the day a
long string of such vehicles, with here and there a four-wheeler,
perambulated the Strand and Piccadilly, blocking the traffic and
making it exceedingly difficult and somewhat dangerous for pedestrians
to cross the road. In 1899 the police authorities put an end to the
nuisance by issuing instructions that no empty cabs were to be allowed
to proceed along the Strand or Piccadilly, but were to remain on the
ranks in, or adjoining, those thoroughfares. The cabmen protested
strongly against this regulation, but the public approved of it, for
the traffic became much less congested. Moreover, as additional ranks
were provided, the cabmen did not suffer from the alteration.
Some people declare that there are too many cabs on the streets, but
it is certain that there are no more than the public require. If they
were not patronised to an extent which makes them profitable to
the proprietors and the drivers, they would not be plying for hire.
On December 31, 1900, there were 11,252 licensed cabs in London, of
which 7531 were two-wheelers and 3721 four-wheelers. There were 13,201
cab-drivers and 2782 proprietors. For each cab a proprietor pays £2 for
a police licence, which has to be renewed 12 months after issue, and
15_s._ to the Inland Revenue on the first day of every year. The driver
pays 5_s._ for his licence, which is renewable 12 months from the day
of issue.
At the present day the fares are:--
BY DISTANCE.
_s._ _d._
If hired and discharged _within_ the four-mile radius, for
any distance not exceeding two miles 1 0
For every additional mile or part of a mile 0 6
If hired _outside_ the four-mile radius, wherever discharged,
for the first and each succeeding mile or part of a
mile 1 0
If hired _within_, but discharged _outside_ the radius, whole
distance not exceeding one mile 1 0
But exceeding one mile, then for each mile ended _within_
the radius 6_d._, and for each mile or part of a mile
_outside_ 1 0
BY TIME.
_s._ _d._
Within the four-mile radius. Four-wheeled cabs for
one hour or less 2 0
Two-wheeled cab 2 6
For every additional quarter of an hour or part of a
quarter, four-wheelers 0 6
Two-wheelers 0 8
Four-wheelers, or two-wheelers, if hired _outside_ the
radius, wherever discharged, for one hour or less 2 6
If above one hour, then for every quarter of an hour or
less 0 8
If hired _within_, but discharged outside the radius, the
fares are according to the two preceding paragraphs.
LUGGAGE.
_s._ _d._
For each package carried outside the vehicle 0 2
ADDITIONAL PERSONS.
_s._ _d._
For each person above two (two children under ten
years of age are reckoned as one person) 0 6
For a child under ten years of age, carried with two or
more persons 0 3
WAITING.
_s._ _d._
By distance only. For every fifteen minutes completed,
if hired _within_ the four-mile radius: Four-wheelers 0 6
Two-wheelers 0 8
When hired _outside_ the radius, four- or two-wheelers 0 8
Unless stated to the cabman at the time of hiring that he is engaged
by time, fares must be paid according to distance. A driver can refuse
to be hired by time between 8 p.m. and 6 a.m.
A cabman hired by distance must, unless prevented by the traffic, drive
at the rate of six miles an hour; if hired by time, four miles an hour.
Should he be requested to drive above the latter speed, he may demand,
in addition to the time fare, for every mile, or any part of one,
exceeding four miles, the fare regulated by distance.
There are no two-horse cabs plying for hire at the present day, but if
there were the fares, according to an Act of Parliament of 1853, not
yet repealed, would be 8_d._ for a mile or less distance, and 2_s._
8_d._ for an hour or any portion of one. During the great snowstorm
of January, 1881, when for several days the roads were impassable
for omnibuses, a large number of cabs appeared with two horses--the
hansoms’ being harnessed tandem fashion. The drivers were well aware of
the Act of 1853, and, in case any passenger should possess a knowledge
of it, they took the precaution, before starting on a journey, to
extract a promise from the rider that he would pay double the usual
fare. That was reasonable, for, apart from the fact that vehicles were
few and travelling difficult, the cabmen, by using two horses, were
only able to be at work for half their customary time.
THE END
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
LONDON AND BECCLES.
Transcriber's Notes:
Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.
Perceived typographical errors have been changed.