COMBATING WITH SNOW, FOGS, AND FLOODS.
How vividly do these words recall the many wet and snowy journeys
which I have experienced, both as coachman and passenger, in years
gone by, and, strange as it may appear to most people now-a-days, with
no unpleasurable associations, though no doubt it was rather trying at
the time. Snowstorms, in particular, were very detrimental to
coachmen's eyes, particularly when accompanied with high winds. A good
look out forward could on no account be relaxed, and that placed the
eyes in such a position as was most favourable for the large flakes to
fall into them. One coachman on the Holyhead mail, I forget his name,
lost his sight from the effects of a snowstorm in the pass of Nant
Francon, but probably his eyes had already been weakened by previous
experiences of the same nature. I don't think my own have even quite
recovered the effects of three winters over the base of Cader Idris.
But, notwithstanding all the bad weather I have been exposed to, I
cannot call to mind having ever been wet through outside a coach; but
then I always took care to be well protected by coats, and all other
contrivances for withstanding it. I have, however, seen a
fellow-passenger, when he dismounted from a coach at the end of an
eighty miles' journey, performed in soaking rain, whose boots were as
full of water from the rain having run down him, as if he had just
walked through a brook.
I never had the misfortune of being regularly snowed up, though I have
had some experience of snowdrifts. One of the winters that I drove the
"Harkaway" was accompanied by a good deal of snow, and the road for
part of the journey, which ran over high and exposed ground, became
drifted up, preventing the coach running for two days.
On the third, however, as a slight thaw had set in, it was determined
to try and force a way through, especially as the road surveyor had
sent some men to clear away the snow. As far as the coach road was
concerned, however, these men might nearly as well have stayed at
home, as they had confined their attention to letting off the water
where it had melted, and when the coach arrived at the spot the drifts
remained very much as they had been. Under these circumstances,
instead of the proverbial three courses there were only two offered to
us--namely, to "go at it or go home." I chose the former alternative,
and, catching the horses fast by the head, sent them at the first
drift with such a will, that, between the force of the pace and a
struggle or two besides, the coach was landed about half way through,
when it stuck fast. The workmen now came to our assistance, and dug us
out, and I had then only to do the same at the other two drifts, and
we managed to catch a train at Machynlleth, though not the right one,
as it had taken us two hours to cover a distance of one mile and a
half.
Though I have always been fortunate enough to keep clear of dangerous
floods, I did so once only by a detour of seven miles, thereby
lengthening the day's drive to one hundred, and this reminds me of a
rather droll request that was once made to me.
I was driving my drag with a party going to a picnic, and in the
course of the drive we had to ford a river which had risen very
considerably from the rains of the previous night. When we had got
about half-way across, the water had become deep enough to rise a foot
or so up the leaders' sides, and the spray was dashing over their
backs. Of course, there was nothing to be done except to push on, but
a lady called to me from behind, begging me either to turn round, or
else put her down. If I had acceded to her last request, she would
have met with a cool reception!
Notwithstanding all that was done by the great improvement made in
roads, together with the superior class of horses employed and the
general excellence of the coachmen, nothing could be effected to
prevent loss of time or accidents occurring through severe snows,
floods, and fogs, and the mail-bags were from these causes delayed,
although, as we have already seen, almost superhuman efforts were made
by the guards to get them through the stoppages.
Neither were the Postmaster-General and his subordinates wanting in
using all the means in their power, whether by expenditure of money or
in any other way, to secure the safety and punctuality of the mails.
The expenses incurred during serious snows, in paying for the removal
of the snow or for extra horses to the coaches, were considerable. In
one heavy snowstorm the sum of one hundred and ninety pounds was paid
for these purposes, and for another the cost was one hundred and
sixty.
At one time the attention of the Postmaster-General was called to a
snow-plough, and the following circular was issued in December, 1836,
to the postmasters: "I send you some copies of a description of
snow-plough, which has been used with great advantage in former
seasons for the purpose of forcing a passage through the snow, and I
have to request that you will communicate with the magistrates,
commissioners, trustees, and surveyors of roads, or other influential
persons, urging their co-operation in endeavouring to remove the
impediments to the progress of the mails. The Postmaster-General
relies on all possible efforts being made by yourself and others to
secure this important object, and I would suggest whether, among other
methods, the passage of the mail coaches through the snow might not be
facilitated by placing them on sledges." Whether any pattern of
snow-plough or sledge accompanied this missive is not clear, but,
judging from some correspondence on the subject, I should fancy there
was.
Nothing appears to have been done with either implement, and, indeed,
it is not very likely that they would have been popular with the horse
contractors. If the snow-ploughs had succeeded in clearing a space
sufficient to permit of the passage of a coach, it would probably have
left the road in a very heavy state, and I should doubt whether in the
climate of this country sledges would have been found of much use. Our
frosts are seldom intense enough, and too frequently accompanied with
thaws, to allow of the surface being in a fit state for their use for
sufficient length of time to make it worth while adapting the coaches
to them. If sledges had been brought into general use, probably a good
many proprietors would have followed the example set them by one of
their number, who, when the coachman had succeeded by great exertions
in getting his coach through the snow, said to him, "Why don't you
stick her?" and, strange to relate, she did stick in a drift on the
next journey.
Dense fogs, although not altogether stopping the traffic on the roads,
were more conducive to accidents than heavy snows, which did
absolutely prohibit progress. In the latter case, at the worst,
conveyances were reduced to a complete standstill, and there was an
end of it for the time; but if the fog was of such a density as to be
capable of being cut with a knife and fork an attempt must be made.
Though we hear from time to time of all traffic being stopped in the
streets of the metropolis, I never recollect to have known of coaches
being quite reduced to that state of helplessness; and, here again,
the Postmaster-General is found providing what remedy he could. In
November, 1835, he ordered links to be prepared, but with the
assistance of those, even if carried by men on horseback, only very
slow progress could have been effected. It is one of the greatest
evils attendant on a fog that it renders lamps useless, and very much
circumscribes the light thrown by a link.
If the fog was not very thick indeed, it was possible, though it might
be attended by some little risk, to keep going pretty well, but when
it became so dense as to hide the horses from the coachman's view
there would be no travelling beyond a foot's pace. One could keep
pushing along pretty well, as I recollect having done myself when
driving a mail, and time had to be kept if at all possible, as long as
the hedges could be distinguished, though I hardly knew how soon my
leaders would be in the middle of a lot of loose horses which I could
not see, but distinctly hear clattering along just in front of us.
Notwithstanding all the care that could be taken, accidents were the
inevitable result of the attempts made to keep going, of which I will
now give one or two instances, though they were not of a serious
nature.
On December 3rd, 1839, the Gloucester and Stroud mails, which ran for
a long distance over the same ground, were both drawn off the road and
upset in a thick fog, and within a few days of this occurrence the
Edinburgh mail was overturned into a ditch, owing to the fog being so
thick that the coachman could not see his horses.
But floods were most to be dreaded. As has been shown, though fogs and
snowstorms were great hindrances to locomotion, and the cause of a
vast amount of inconvenience and expense, they were seldom attended
with loss of life, whereas sad records of fatal issues are to be found
in connection with floods, to a few of which I will call the reader's
attention.
On September 11th, 1829, when the Birmingham and Liverpool mail
reached Smallwood Bridge, it turned out that the bridge had been blown
up by the force of the water, and the coachman, not being aware of it,
the coach was precipitated into the river. The guard was washed down
under a remaining arch. The coachman caught hold of a stump and saved
himself. Of the three inside passengers, one being a slender, active
young man, managed to get out by breaking the glass of the window, and
helped to save the guard. The two others sunk to the bottom with one
of the horses, and nothing could be seen but water.
Strange to say, however, the bags were eventually recovered, when the
letters were carefully spread out to dry, and were, most of them,
eventually delivered in tolerable condition. Some few fragments are to
be seen now at the General Post-Office.
Moreton, the guard, was washed down about two hundreds yards, when he
caught hold of a tree, and remained there up to his neck in water for
an hour before he was rescued.
A most serious flood took place near Newport Pagnel, in November,
1823, though, fortunately, not attended with any fatal consequences,
though the stoppage of traffic was very great.
The report to the General Post-Office was, "Owing to a sudden rise in
the waters near Newport Pagnel, two mails, six coaches, and a van were
unable to proceed on their journeys, and, but for the hospitality of
Mr. R. Walker, brick-maker, the passengers, amounting to upwards of
sixty persons, would have been exposed during the tempestuous night to
all the severities of the season. He most kindly opened his doors, and
generously offered to the passengers and horses every assistance and
comfort in his power; turning his own horses out of the stables to
afford shelter to those of the mails."
On February 9th, 1831, the Milford Haven mail met with a most serious
accident.
The following is the report of the inspector, which, though rather
involved, affords a graphic account of the circumstances, and I think
I cannot do better than give it in his words. He says, "About two
o'clock in the morning, when crossing a small bridge near the river
Towy, about six miles from Caermarthen, on the London road between
Caermarthen and Llandilo, owing to the heavy falls of snow and rain on
the mountains and a rapid thaw afterwards, which caused the river to
overflow the bridge and high road, the morning also being very dark,
and the rain falling heavily, the coach was overtaken by the flood,
and before the coachman was aware of it, the water rose to such a
height in a few minutes that the four horses were unfortunately
drowned, and all on the coach would undoubtedly have shared the same
fate but for the meritorious conduct of a passenger named John Cressy
(a servant in the employ of Sir Richard Phillips), who swam through
the flood for about one hundred yards, and secured some boats, which
he brought to their assistance, just as the water had reached the top
of the coach, and by this means all the passengers, together with
coachman, guard, and mails, were saved. John Cressy was awarded
fifteen pounds by the Postmaster-General for his gallant conduct."
Some years after this, but I have not got the date, a somewhat similar
accident happened on the down journey of the Gloucester and
Aberystwith mail. The water had flooded the road at Lugwardine to a
considerable depth, and one of the arches of the bridge had collapsed;
the result of which was that coach, horses, passengers, and all were
precipitated into the water, and were with great difficulty rescued,
and though no life was lost at the time, one passenger, a Mr.
Hardwick, died afterwards from being so long immersed in the water.