HORSES.
A book about coaching would be very incomplete without touching on the
subject of horses, as they were like the main spring of a watch: the
coach could not go without them.
Of course, a very large number of horses were employed in the coaches,
and I can remember that many people feared that, if coaches ceased to
run, the number and quality of the horses bred in the country would
deteriorate, in consequence of this demand for them falling off; but
that, like most prognostications of the same sort, has proved to be
unfounded, and I should think the number of horses at the present time
employed in public conveyances, must exceed considerably what it was
in the days of road travelling.
However that may be, no doubt very large numbers were kept by the
different coach proprietors, both in town and country, at the head of
which stood Mr. Chaplin, with about thirteen hundred; and a very large
capital was invested in the business, though probably not so large as
might be supposed by the uninitiated; for, judging by my own
experience, I should say that the price of horses used for that
purpose has been over-stated. Nimrod, who was no doubt a very
competent authority on the subject, at the time he wrote his article
in the _Quarterly Review_,[1] puts the average price at twenty-five
pounds, with about thirty pounds for those working out of London; but
I think those prices are rather high.
[1] _Quarterly Review_ for 1832, vol. 48, pages 346-375.
This statement may appear erroneous to those who would judge by the
sums now obtained for the horses which have been running in the summer
coaches out of London in the present day; but the two businesses have
little in common, except that the coaches go on wheels and are drawn
by horses. Six months' work on a coach, loaded as they used to be,
would take more out of the horses employed in them than would two
years in the coaches which look so pretty at Hatchett's on a fine
summer morning, and no one could have afforded to give high prices for
what wore out so quickly; not but that horses increased in value for
the work required of them as they became seasoned to it; but, again,
some wore out in the seasoning. Many horses, doubtless, were bought at
the price of twenty-five pounds, and perhaps in some cases a little
over, though those were exceptional cases, and for myself, I can say
that I never found it necessary to exceed that sum; but in drawing the
average, we must not leave out of the calculation the large number of
horses which found their way into coaches in consequence of the
infirmity of their tempers, and, I may add, of the bad management they
had been subjected to.
If a horse, though from no fault of his own, ran away with the
parson's or lawyer's "four-wheeler," he was immediately offered to the
nearest coach proprietor. If another kicked a commercial traveller out
of his buggy, he was at once offered to the coach proprietor. If a
gentleman's carriage-horse took to any bad habit, which rendered him
unfit for his work, or unpleasant to the coachman to drive, he also
was offered to the coach proprietor; and I once came into possession
of a very good horse at the price of ten pounds from this last cause.
He had taken to jibbing, probably because he had a very light mouth,
which caused him to resent the bearing rein, and was offered to me for
the above-named sum, at which I immediately closed. The coachman
brought him to my stable in time for him to be harnessed and take his
place in the team going out that evening, and he stayed to witness the
start, quite expecting, I make no doubt, to see some fun. I put him at
lead, by the side of a very good horse, though, by the by, he had
brought a coach to grief when placed alongside of the pole. Of course,
there was no bearing rein, and he only just stood for a moment till
the bars began to rattle against his houghs, when he started off with
a bound and a hop, and never gave the slightest trouble.
Horses also got into coaches in consequence of unsoundnesses, which,
though little or no detriment to them for work, reduced their market
value very considerably; and I once became possessed, for the sum of
eighteen pounds, of a very fine horse, nearly thorough-bred, and only
five years old, because he had become a roarer, and which had been
bought as a hunter for one hundred guineas only a short time
previously; but though he ran over a nine-mile stage with some very
heavy hills upon it, having no weight on his back, he never made the
slightest noise. There are other causes of unsoundness, such as
crib-biting, which are no detriment to a coach-horse, though lowering
their value in the market.
Then, again, if a horse fell and chipped his knees, whether it arose
from any fault or not, he was, as a general rule, sold out of a
gentleman's stable; and I once picked up an excellent horse merely for
fear he should break his knees. He was a very well-made animal, with
the exception that he turned his toes in. He was the property of a
clergyman, who must have known little or nothing about horses, and, I
suppose, some knowing friend who thought he _did_ know must have
alarmed him by telling him that the horse was certain to come down
with such a pair of forelegs; so, to save a greater loss, a horse
worth thirty pounds at least came into my possession for twenty. So
far from falling, he was a safe goer, both in saddle and harness.
The instances to which I have alluded may be classed perhaps more as
shortcomings and failings than vice, but to those must be added many
whose tempers were apparently incorrigible, and they could only be put
in a coach, as those who travelled post would not put up with them.
Just one word _en passant_ on that mode of travelling, as it must be
quite unknown to the majority of people now living; but, as one who
can recollect it, I venture to say that a well-built comfortable
carriage with four post-horses was the perfection of travelling. It is
not to be denied that it took a day or two to get over the same
distance as is now travelled by a train in a few hours, but the inns
on the road were good, generally afforded comfortable accommodation,
the cooking was also good, and the wine very fair, of which it was
usual to order a bottle for the "good of the house." Some of them had
a special character for what were called sleeping-houses, and
travellers would continue their journey for an extra stage for the
purpose of reaching one of these houses for the night. The attention
paid to posting travellers was very great. Upon the carriage stopping
at the door, the entrance was perceived to be lined by the hostess,
waiters, chambermaids, etc., and the universal question was, "Will you
please to alight?" If they elected to proceed, the cry was immediately
raised, "First and second turns out," and in a minute would be seen
approaching two mounted postboys, with two other men leading the hand
horses, and in about three minutes they were off again, dashing along
at about nine miles an hour. If, however, the day's journey was ended,
the dusk of evening was exchanged for a comfortable private
sitting-room with a bright fire--no public rooms in those days. At the
time appointed a comfortable dinner would be served, the _piece de
resistance_ being very commonly placed on the table by the host
himself. Indeed, one of the great recommendations of the inns of those
days was that the host and hostess interested _themselves_ in the
comfort of their guests. If we add to this the fact that at the
beginning of the journey you were taken from your own door, and at the
end of it landed at your own or a friend's door, without the
experiences of a crowded railway station, there may be something to be
said in favour of it.
I can imagine I hear someone say, "Oh, yes, it might have been
pleasant enough for those swells who could afford to pay for four
horses, but how about the smaller fry who were obliged to be contented
with the modest pair?" Well, I must confess that the odd mile or two
an hour did make a difference, and posting in a travelling carriage
packed with all its boxes, and containing four or five persons about
it, such, in fact, as was called by the postboys a "_bounder_, having
everything except the kitchen grate," was often, especially in winter,
not unattended with discomfort and tediousness. How well can I
recollect, when quite a child, at the end of a day's travelling of
seventy or eighty miles on a winter's day, when twilight was fast
sinking into darkness, envying the people who I could see through the
windows of the houses, sitting round a blazing fire! And, indeed, the
blacksmith, blowing up the fire on his hearth and making the sparks
fly from the iron by the blows administered by his brawny arms,
possessed much attraction. This, however, was quite made up for on the
down journey later in the year. This, indeed, was unalloyed delight.
After having been "cribbed, cabined, and confined" in London for five
months, with nothing more nearly approaching to the country than Hyde
Park and Kensington Gardens (and in those days there was not a
flower-bed in either of them), when one emerged from the suburbs,
which was sooner done in those days than now, and the eye beheld the
fields and green hedges, made brilliant by wild flowers, it seemed a
very Elysium; and to hold in one's hand a posy of dog-roses was bliss
itself, even though they had received a peppering of road dust. I have
always loved a dog-rose since, and shall continue to do so as long as
I live. The longest summer day was hardly long enough for taking in
such happiness. No amount of railway travelling will ever leave behind
such happy reminiscences of childhood. Then, again, there was time and
opportunity for other things, which can never be the case in railway
travelling; amongst which was the childish pleasure of being fitted
with a new straw hat whilst the horses were being changed at
Dunstable. It was not all _couleur de rose_, neither was it all labour
and sorrow. Like all other things in this world, it had its lights and
shades.
Perhaps it may be urged against this that there is no time for such a
mode of travelling now. It may be so, but, as a nearly worn-out old
roadster, it strikes me there may be too much haste for comfort. It
was undeniably slow and expensive, though it may be doubted whether
people generally spent more money in travelling than they do now. The
facilities offered by railways cause the present generation to move
about a great deal more freely than did their ancestors.
But all this is skirting, and I must return to the scent, which was, I
think, very much the sort of horses which we coachmen had to drive.
They were, indeed, often a very queer lot, but they had to be driven,
and were driven. Of course, four of this sort were not put all
together; there were always one or two steady ones among them. But
even if they had been, and all had determined to do wrong, it is most
improbable that all would have gone wrong in the same way, and one
could have been played off against another. This is one great
advantage in four. In single harness, if the horse takes to bad ways,
you have the whole team against you, but that is, as I have said, very
unlikely with four. Perhaps this may account for the old saying that
"half the coachmen were killed out of gigs."
When I got a horse that was very troublesome, I always found that
doubling him, that is, making him run his stage double, brought him to
his senses in the course of a week or two. Some may say it was not
right to risk the lives and limbs of the passengers, by using unruly
horses, but, practically, very little danger was incurred. I will not
say that no accidents ever occurred from this cause, but they were
very rare. If an accident should have happened, and a life been lost
from that cause, the old law of "deodand" would have touched up the
proprietor's pockets severely; besides which, horses of this
description were only entrusted to the hands of well-tried men.
Notwithstanding all this, however, accidents did occasionally happen
from this cause, and sometimes of a very serious nature, one or two of
which I will now produce. The first was an exceedingly calamitous one,
and I think I cannot do better than use the words of a friend of mine,
who was an eye-witness to the scene, as they will be more likely to
convey a full idea of the horrible appearance presented by the mingled
heap of injured human beings and horses, with the coach on the top of
them, than anything I can say at second hand. He says: "I was staying
at the 'White Horse,' at Hockliffe, for a few days, and on the first
night I was disturbed by a man knocking at the front door and
shouting, 'Get up, the "Greyhound" is overturned and all the
passengers are killed.' Upon hearing of this terrific slaughter," he
proceeds to say, "I got up, and with others started to the scene of
the catastrophe, which was about a mile and a half distant, opposite
to a large mansion called 'Battleden House,' then the residence of Sir
G. P. Turner, and there we found a mass of human beings and horses all
of a heap. The coachman was under the coach with his leg broken, many
of the passengers dangerously injured, and two horses had legs broken.
It was a shocking sight to witness, and melancholy to hear the
squealing of horses, and the passengers moaning."
After all, however, it was found that there was not so much damage
done here to the passengers as would have been expected. None were
killed, nor any so seriously injured but that they were able to be
conveyed to their destinations in a few days.
The cause of the accident originated in the near side wheeler
accomplishing what she had tried to do many times before, viz., kick
over the pole, which broke, when, of course, all control was lost, and
the coach was overturned into the ravine where it was found.
In the other case no injury was sustained by anyone except the culprit
himself, who must have been an exceedingly violent brute.
In October, 1839, when near Maidenhead a horse in the Bristol mail
kicked so violently that he broke the pole-hook and harness, and put
out his own shoulder in his fall.
Blind horses, again, found their way into coaches, and, if high
mettled ones, performed very good work. The worst of them was, that
they became too knowing about the corners, and when at wheel, where
they were generally driven (though in Ireland I have had both leaders
blind), if the coachman was not on the look out for it, might hang him
into one. Some however, were very bold, and high couraged. I recollect
one which ran in the lead of the "Greyhound" out of Shrewsbury, of
this sort. He was so handsome a horse, that, if he had been all right,
he would have commanded at least a hundred guineas for a gentleman's
carriage, but being blind, of course, was only fit for a coach. One
day, when I was travelling by that coach, and was as usual driving, he
quite won my heart by the high couraged manner in which he elbowed his
way through the large droves of cattle which were being driven along
the road from Shrewsbury fair.
The reader will now understand how it came to pass that the average
value of coach-horses was so low, as these blemished, unsound, and
vicious ones never cost more than fifteen pounds, and very often not
much above half that sum. I once purchased a good mare for the very
modest figure of twenty-five shillings. It may be asked, how was it
possible to buy a horse fit to run a coach, or indeed do any fast
work, for such a sum? to which I reply, that she had only one place
where she could possibly be utilized, and that at the time she came
into my possession coaches were continually being supplanted by
railways, and therefore there was very little demand for such as her.
She had neither size nor form for a wheeler, even if she would have
condescended to go there, and only of use on one side at lead, I
forget which, and I suppose would very promptly have made fragments of
any carriage behind her in single harness. She was, however, a real
good leader where she chose to go, and I drove her in a match team of
chestnuts for a considerable time. I bought her with confidence, as I
had frequently driven her in another coach previously.
Talking of only going on one side, I do not think coachmen always
consider this enough. There is a theory with many gentlemen, and their
coachmen, that the sides should be changed frequently; but with hard
work, such as that in a coach, horses do their work better and easier
to themselves by always going in the same place. At one time I was
horsing a coach, and driving one side, as it was called, another
coachman driving the other; and, consequently, we both drove the same
horses over some stages. He said to me, "That in one of my teams, one
leader could not go up to the other." I asked him on which side he
drove him. He replied, "I put him on the off side, because I can get
at him better there." I said, "You try the near side," which was where
I always drove him, "and you will not want to get at him." Of course,
if a horse begins to hang to one side, it has become time to change
him.
The vices which most commonly brought horses into coaches were jibbing
and kicking. I do not recollect to have ever known a case of either of
them being thoroughly eradicated, though they were sufficiently kept
under to render them of little moment; but they were liable to return
if a fresh hand took hold of them, especially if he showed any signs
of indecision. It is astonishing how soon horses find out a change of
hand.
The great thing to attend to with jibbers is not to keep them
standing. If they have time to plant themselves they will give
trouble; but if the coachman is up and off at once, they will
generally start.
With kickers at wheel I never found two or three good punishments over
the ears to fail in bringing them into subjection, or, at any rate,
sufficiently so, though a "ventilated" front boot might occasionally
be the result. With a road coach, however, this did not much signify.
A leader might be harder to tame, as he cannot be got at in the same
way. I have heard it said of some one that he was so excellent a whip
that he could hit a fly on a leader's ear. I can only say I never saw
it done. But if a leader will not stand still to kick, he can be
driven; kick and keep going doesn't much matter.
In justice to the horses, however, it must be said that they are not
the only ones to blame. No small number of them are rendered vicious,
or unsteady, by mismanagement, and irremediable mischief is not
unfrequently produced from quite unexpected causes. To give one
instance: I am convinced that many a leader is set kicking by the
pole-chains being too slack.
I fancy I hear someone say, "What on earth have the pole-chains to do
with the leaders?" Well, I will try and show how intimately they are
connected.
When pulling up or going down-hill, the wheel horses must come back
towards the coach sufficiently to tighten the pole-chains. They will
thus be nearer the coach, or further off, by just that number of
inches. Then, as the leaders' reins are held in the same place as the
wheelers', they must also come back by the same number of inches,
which may, in the case of very slack pole-chains, be sufficient to
allow the bars to fall upon the leaders' houghs, which is a fertile
source of kicking; and it is a very true saying that a horse which has
once kicked in harness is never to be trusted again.
For a large number of jibbers I believe the bearing rein to be
responsible. But, after all, horses are queer creatures. They have as
many fads and fancies as men and women. Some will kick for being
touched in one spot, and some in another. I drove a leader for some
time who was easily set kicking by the bar touching him above his
houghs; but upon lengthening his traces by two or three holes, so as
to let the bar fall below the hough, in case it should touch him, he
was quite contented. And, again, some horses will kick when touched by
a low pole, others by a high one.
Coupling reins also are frequently so arranged as to be a cause of
discomfort to horses. It is manifest that when one horse carries his
head high, and his partner low, the coupling rein of the former should
be above that of the latter; and, again, if one horse tosses his head,
and his coupling rein is the under one, he must cause much annoyance
to the other, especially if he has a light mouth.
Parliament has now passed a Bill for the purpose of regulating the
traffic in horseflesh. Such an Act, if it had been placed on the
Statute Book, and had resulted in creating a demand for horseflesh for
food, would have been a great boon to stage coachmen formerly, as they
would not have been called upon to wear out the old horses. It would
have paid the proprietors better to put them up to feed when they
became stale, and fatten them for the market. It would also have
prevented much suffering to horses.
And now, if any reader is astonished at the price of horses, if he has
never heard of a less price for a set of harness than sixty guineas,
he will be incredulous when I mention the cost of that generally used
with coaches. Eighteen pounds was the top price usually given, and I
have driven with well-shaped and good-looking harness which only cost
sixteen. Indeed, at Walsall, which was the chief emporium for
low-priced harness, if two or three sets were taken at the same time,
they could be had for eleven pounds each. Collars were not included.
Of course, such harness as this did not last long, and, perhaps, was
not the cheapest in the long run; though I doubt whether the leather
was not better then than it is now, being all tanned with oak bark.