'The old-fashioned coachman to a heavy coach--and they were all heavy
down to very recent times--bore some analogy with the prize-fighter,
for he stood highest who could hit hardest. He was generally a man
of large frame, made larger by indulgence, and of great bodily
power--which was useful to him. To the button-hole of his coat were
appended several whipcord points, which he was sure to have occasion
for on the road, for his horses were whipped till whipping was as
necessary to them as their harness. In fair play to him, however, he
was not solely answerable for this; the spirit of his cattle was broken
by the task they were called to perform--for in those days twenty-mile
stages were in fashion--and what was the consequence? Why, the
four-horse whip and the Nottingham whipcord were of no avail over the
latter part of the ground, and something like a cat-o'-nine-tails was
produced out of the boot, which was jocularly called the "apprentice";
and a shrewd apprentice it was to the art of torturing which was
inflicted on the wheelers without stint or measure, but without which
the coach might have been often left on the road. One circumstance
alone saved these horses from destruction; this was the frequency of
ale-houses on the road, not one of which could then be passed without a
call.
'Still, our old-fashioned coachman was a scientific man in his
calling--more so, perhaps, than by far the greater part of his
brethren of the present day, inasmuch as his energies and skill were
more frequently put to the test. He had heavy loads, bad roads, and
weary horses to deal with, neither was any part of his harness to be
depended on, upon a pinch. Then the box he sat upon was worse than
Pandora's, with all the evils it contained, for even hope appeared to
have deserted it. It rested on the bed of the axletree, and shook the
frame to atoms; but when prayers were put up to have it altered, the
proprietors said, "No; the rascal will always be asleep if we place
his box on the springs." If among all these difficulties, then, he, by
degrees, became a drunkard, who can wonder at his becoming so? But he
was a _coachman_. He could fetch the last ounce out of a wheel-horse
by the use of his double thong or his "apprentice," and the point
of his lash told terribly upon his leaders. He likewise applied it
scientifically, it was directed under the bar to the flank, and after
the third hit he brought it up to his hand by _the draw_, so that it
never got entangled in the pole-chains, or in any part of the harness.
He could untie a knot with his teeth and tie another with his tongue,
as well as he could with his hands; and if his thong broke off in the
middle, he could splice it with dexterity and even with neatness as
his coach was proceeding on its journey. It short, he could do what
coachmen of the present day cannot do, because they have not been
called upon to do it; and he likewise could do what they never tried to
do--namely, he could drive when he was drunk nearly as well as when he
was sober. He was very frequently a faithful servant to his employers;
considered trustworthy by bankers and others in the country through
which he passed; and as humane to his horses, perhaps, as the adverse
circumstances he was placed in by his masters would admit.'
Time has dealt kindly with the reputation of the old stage coachman,
and popular tradition holds him, as Nimrod portrayed him, a whip of
unrivalled skill. That there were such men is perfectly true;[1] but
not every stage coachman was an expert: not all were skilful or even
careful, and not all were civil: and if, as Nimrod says, they could
drive as well when drunk as when sober, the cold light of contemporary
record shows that there was ample room for improvement. Take the
following:--On the 18th of May 1808 the coachman of the Portsmouth
coach to London was intoxicated, and "when he came to the foot of the
hill on Wimbledon Common, instead of keeping straight on turned to the
left and found himself in Putney Lane, where turning the corner of Mr.
Kensington's wall in order to get again into the road to Wandsworth,
the coach was overturned." He appears to have driven on to the bank by
the roadside. The ten outside passengers were all more or less hurt,
one dying from her injuries, and the coachman himself had both legs
broken. Accidents due to reckless driving and racing were very common,
despite the law[2] of 1790 which made a coachman who, by furious
driving or careless, overturned his coach, liable to a fine not over
five pounds. The following is typical:--
'Last night occurred one of those dreadful catastrophes, the result
of driving opposition coaches, which has so stunned the country with
horror that sober people for a time will not hazard their lives in
these vehicles of fury and madness.
'Two coaches that run daily from Hinckley to Leicester had set out
together. The first having descended the hill leading to Leicester was
obliged to stop to repair the harness. The other coachman saw the
accident and seized the moment to give his antagonist the _go by_,
flogging the horses into a gallop down the hill. The horses contrived
to keep on their legs, but took fright at something on the road, and
became so unmanageable in the hands of a drunken coachman, that in
their sweep to avoid the object of their alarm, the driver could not
recover them so as to clear the post of the turnpike gate at the bottom
of the hill. The velocity was so great that the coach was split in two;
three persons were dashed to pieces and instantly killed, two others
survived but a few hours in the greatest agony; four were conveyed
away for surgical aid with fractured limbs, and two in the dickey were
thrown with that part of the coach to a considerable distance, and
not much hurt as they fell on a hedge. The coachman fell a victim to
his fury and madness. It is time the Magistrates put a stop to these
outrageous proceedings that have existed too long in this part of the
country.' (_St. James's Chronicle_, 15th July 1815).
The frequency of upsets is suggested by a letter which appeared in
the papers in 1785. The writer, who signs himself 'A Sufferer,' begs
coach proprietors to direct their servants, when the coach has been
overturned, 'not to drag the passengers out at the window, but to
replace the coach on its wheels first, provided it can be accomplished
with the strength they have with them.'
After coaches began to carry the mails, accidents grew more numerous.
We can trace many to the greater speed maintained, others to defective
workmanship which resulted in broken axles or lost wheels, many to
top-heaviness, and not a few to carelessness. The short stage drivers,
on the whole, were the worst offenders. For sheer recklessness this
would be hard to beat:--
'During the dense fog on Wednesday last, as a Woolwich coach full of
inside and outside passengers was driving at a furious rate, just
after it had passed the Six Bells on its way to town, the coachman
ran against a heavy country cart. The stage was upset, and those on
the roof were pitched violently against an empty coal waggon; two of
them fell on the shafts, one of whom had a shoulder badly dislocated;
the other had his jawbone broken, with the loss of his front teeth. A
Greenwich pensioner, with a wooden leg, had an arm broken, and
some contusions on the head.' (_Bell's Life_, 15th December 1882).
It would be easy to compile a list of accidents due to causes
unforseen, each one, illustrating a different danger of the road. Here
are a few:--
'Tuesday afternoon, as one of the Brighton stages was leaving London
at a rapid pace, the pole broke in Lambeth, and the coach was upset.
Several passengers had limbs broken and others were injured.' (_Bell's
Life_, 25th August 1822).
'A fatal accident befel the Woolwich Tally Ho opposition stage on
Tuesday. Coming down the hill from the Green Man the horses became
restive, the coachman lost his command, and immediately the whole set
off at full speed. In turning a corner the coach upset, being heavily
laden outside. Out of sixteen persons only one escaped without a leg
or arm broken, and four are not expected to survive. The coach was
literally dashed to pieces. The inside passengers were more lacerated
than those outside, owing to the coach being shattered to pieces and
their being dragged along the road for fifty yards. But little hopes
are entertained of a Major M'Leod--a very fine young man; not a vestige
of his face is left except his eyes.' (_Bell's Life_, 22nd September
1822).
'A fatal accident happened to Gamble, coachman of the Yeovil mail,
on Wednesday, caused by the leaders shying at an old oak tree. The
coachman was killed on the spot, and the guard escaped with bruises.
The horses started off and galloped into Andover at the rate of 20
miles an hour. The single inside passenger was not aware of anything
amiss until two gentlemen, who saw the horses going at a furious rate
without a driver, succeeded in stopping them just as they were turning
into the George gateway.' (_Times_, 21st February 1838).
Coachmen and guards were apt to leave too much to the honour of the
horses when stopping, and it was not at all uncommon for the team to
start on its journey with nobody on the box. An old coachman told Lord
Algernon St. Maur that on one night's drive he met two coaches without
any driver! In 1806 (46 Geo. III., c. 36) it was made an offence
punishable by fine to leave the team without a proper person in charge
while the coach stopped.
Organised races between public coaches were very popular: the coachmen
did not spare the horses on these occasions. This race took place in
1808:--
'On Sunday, August 7th, a coach called the "Patriot," belonging to the
master of the "Bell," Leicester, drawn by four horses, started against
another coach called the "Defiance," from Leicester to Nottingham, a
distance of 26 miles, both coaches changing horses at Loughborough.
Thousands of people from all parts assembled to witness the event, and
bets to a considerable amount were depending. Both coaches started
exactly at 8 o'clock, and after the severest contest ever remembered,
the "Patriot" arrived at Nottingham first by two minutes only,
performing the distance of 26 miles in 2 hrs. 10 mins., carrying twelve
passengers.'
[Illustration:
_Mail Coaches Racing:
Something Wrong with the
Opposition Coach