Thomas Twining, who visited the country in 1795.
“The vehicle,” says he, “was a long car with four benches.
Three of these in the interior held nine passengers. A tenth
passenger was seated by the side of the driver on the front
bench. A light roof was supported by eight slender pillars,
four on each side. Three large leather curtains suspended to
the roof, one at each side and the third behind, were rolled
up or lowered at the pleasure of the passengers. There was
no place nor space for luggage, each person being expected
to stow his things as he could under his seat or legs. The
entrance was in front over the driver’s bench. Of course, the
three passengers on the back seat were obliged to crawl across
all the other benches to get to their places. There were no
backs to the benches to support and relieve us during a rough
and fatiguing journey over a newly and ill-made road.”
The body of these public carriages was high, and the back wheels were
larger than those in front. A somewhat similar conveyance is still used
to-day in some of the northern districts of Australia.
The commonest vehicle in Russia at this time seems to have been the
_taranta_, which is described as “a travelling carriage whose body
resembles a flat-bottomed punt.” The natives apparently considered that
it was a very comfortable carriage, and it certainly could hold a great
quantity of luggage and wraps, but the foreigners using it did not
always express a similar opinion.
“We travelled certainly with speed,” says Madame Pfeiffer of
the _taranta_, in her _Journey round the World_, “but any
one who had not a body of iron, or a well-cushioned spring
carriage, would not find this very agreeable, and would
certainly prefer to travel slower upon these uneven, bad
roads. The post-carriage, for which ten kopecs a station is
paid, is nothing more than a very short wooden open car,
with four wheels. Instead of a seat some hay is laid in it,
and there is just room enough for a small chest, upon which
the driver sits. These cars naturally jolt very much. There
is nothing to take hold of, and it requires some care to
avoid being thrown out. The draught consists of three horses
abreast; over the centre one a wooden arch is fixed, on
which hang two or three bells, which continually made a most
disagreeable noise. In addition to this, imagine the rattling
of the carriage, and the shouting of the driver, who is always
in great activity urging on the poor animals, and it may be
easily understood that, as is often the case, the carriage
arrives at the station without the travellers.”
Even less “genteel” than the _taranta_ was the _kibitka_, “a common
posting-waggon,” according to Stratton, “consisting of a huge frame
of unhewn sticks, fastened firmly upon two axles, the fore part of
it having underneath a solid block of hard wood, on which it rests,
elevating it so as to allow the wheels to play.”
Other Russian carriages were the _teleka_, the _telashka_, and
the better-known _droitzschka_, or, as it was known in England,
_drosky_—an improvement originally of the sledge by the mere addition
of springs and wheels. In Norway the _carriole_ was very similar to the
original French gig, and like the _char-à-cote_ of Switzerland, was
long and narrow and peculiarly adapted for mountainous countries. But
in nearly all the colder regions, wheel carriages were scarcely used at
all, the snow making some kind of sledge far more convenient. Captain
King, in his _Journey across Asia_, gives a detailed description of the
sledges then in use (1784) in Kamtschatka.
“The body of the sledge,” he says, “is about four feet and a
half long and a foot wide, made in the form of a crescent, of
light, tough wood, strongly bound together with wicker-work;
which in those belonging to the better sort of people is
elegantly stained of a red and blue colour, and the seat
covered with bear-skins, or other furs. It is supported by
four legs, about two feet high, which rest on two long flat
pieces of wood, extending a foot at each end beyond the body
of the sledge. These are turned up before, in the manner of
a skate, and shod with the bone of some sea animal. The fore
part of the carriage is ornamented with thongs of leather and
tassels of coloured cloth; and from the cross-bar, to which
the harness is joined, are hung links of iron, or small bells,
the jingling of which they conceive to be encouraging to the
dogs. They are seldom used to carry more than one person at
a time, who sits aside [? astride], resting his feet on the
lower part of the sledge, and carrying his provisions and
other necessaries, wrapped up in a bundle, behind him. The
dogs are usually five in number, yoked two and two, with
a leader. The reins not being fastened to the head of the
dogs, but to the collar, have little power over them, and
are therefore generally hung upon the sledge, whilst the
driver depends entirely on their obedience to his voice for
the direction of them.... The driver is also provided with
a crooked stick, which answers the purpose both of whip
and reins; as by striking it into the snow, he is enabled
to moderate the speed of the dogs, or even to stop them
entirely.... Our party consisted in all of ten sledges. That
in which Captain Gore was carried, was made of two lashed
together, and abundantly provided with furs and bear-skins; it
had ten dogs, yoked four abreast, as had also some of those
that were heavy laden with baggage.”
In Europe and North America these sledges were also used, and could
be highly ornamented. Two of this kind, narrow and low, may be seen
at South Kensington. They are mentioned by several travellers. Edward
Wright, visiting Amsterdam in 1719, had seen “several coach-bodies
drawn upon sledges,” and explained that the inhabitants did not use
wheels “to avoid shaking the foundations of the houses.” Holcroft,
too, at the end of the century, journeyed from Hamburg to Paris by way
of Holland, and did not hide his surprise at the appearance of these
sledges.
“And pray, sir, what are you?” he asks in the Shandean manner.
“We never saw so staring or so strange an animal before.”
“’Tis a tropical bird, on a mast.”
“Can it be? A coach without wheels? Yes: dragged on a sledge
by a single horse, and a lady in it.”
Holcroft also noticed in Amsterdam what he called “a travelling
haberdasher’s shop with wheels, rolled through the streets by its
master.” This appears to have been some sort of light travelling booth.
In Paris itself, he records, “there is scarcely a street which is not
so narrow as to be extremely dangerous to foot passengers. They are
rendered more so at some times by the extreme carelessness, and at
others by the brutal insolence, of coachmen. There is no foot pavement;
and the only guard against carriages is formed by large stones placed
at certain distances, but close to the wall.” In Germany, too, he
found little to please him, and warns Englishmen against bringing
English-built carriages into that country, for of a surety they will be
“broken up.” England, indeed, about this time, seems to have been by
far the most progressive country as regards locomotion.
_Chapter the Ninth_
_INVENTIONS GALORE_
“Prime of Life to ‘go it!’ where’s the place like London:
Four-in-hand to-day, tomorrow you may be undone:
Where the Duke and the ’prentice they dress much the same:
You cannot tell the difference, excepting by the name!
Then push along with four-in-hand, while others drive at random,
In buggy, gig or dog-cart, in curricle or tandem.”
EGAN, _Life in London_.
If William Felton’s book shows the great improvements that had
taken place in English carriage-building during the latter half of
the eighteenth century, William Bridges Adams’s _English Pleasure
Carriages_, published in 1837, sufficiently shows the enormous
improvements which had followed upon Obadiah Elliott’s invention of the
elliptic springs.[47] In the first place you had a whole series of
light, perchless carriages being built, and in the second you had the
new macadamised roads upon which to run them.
In treating of all these various carriages, it is difficult to know
where to begin. A mere catalogue with a few lines of description cannot
be very satisfactory, and yet there seems no other method to adopt.
Bridges Adams, who was a coachbuilder himself and the inventor of
several novel carriages, is a good guide, but one could have wished
that his book had been illustrated by anything rather than those
fearsome diagrams which mean so little to any one but a coachbuilder
himself. From the beginning of the century, indeed, illustrations
of carriages began to take on that diagrammatic aspect which the
trade-papers still maintain; while at the same time the old prints and
caricatures began to disappear. It is a pity, but it cannot be helped.
“Though it would be difficult,” says Bridges Adams, “to describe every
particular variety of carriage now in use, it is comparatively easy to
set forth the leading features—the original models, as it were, of
each particular class. The distinguishing characteristics are to be
found in the form of the bodies and not in the mechanism of the springs
or framework. Thus a particular shaped body entitles the carriage to
the term Chariot, whether it be constructed with under springs or C
springs, or with both, or whether it be with or without a perch. This
rule obtains throughout the whole varieties of carriages; and in those
bodies which are formed by a combination”—as now began to be the
case—“it is customary to call them by a double name—as Cab-Phaeton,
Britzschka-Chariot, Britzschka-Phaeton, &c.” Accordingly, I shall
endeavour in a brief catalogue to point out such changes as were being
made in each broad class of vehicle.
The coach was still being made with a perch. It was not hung so high,
but in other respects it differed but little from its predecessors. The
Salisbury boot, which carried the coachman’s seat, and the hammercloth,
were still used, but for travelling long distances were removed, a
smaller platform being substituted in their place. In the _Driving
Coach_, a novelty which now became popular with gentlemen of means,
and at a later date came to be commonly known as the _four-in-hand_,
the wheels were rather nearer together, and the perch was short and
straight. This had the boots which, as we have seen, had been already
added to the mail-coaches for the convenience of outside passengers.
“The boots and body,” says Bridges Adams, “are framed together, and
suspended on springs before and behind—the connection with the
carriage being by means of curved blocks.”
Another variety of the coach was the _barouche_, which, though, I
suppose, not technically a coach at all, if one accepts Thrupp’s
definition—for it was roofless—is generally classed with this kind
of vehicle. There had been, I believe, a barouche in England so
early as 1767, but it was not popular until a much later date. The
barouche was simply a coach-body without its upper portion—an open
carriage, that is to say, with high driving seat, and a hood fixed to
the back if required—not indeed unlike an opened landau to look at.
It was purely a town carriage. Its driving seat, similar to that in a
landau, was built to hold both coachman and footman, “the hinder part
being unprovided with a standard, which would,” says Bridges Adams,
“be useless, as when the head is down there is little convenience
for the servant’s holders, and he would moreover be unpleasantly
placed, looking down on the sitters within, and listening to all the
conversation,” a matter of course which he would have been only too
pleased to do. The barouche would hold four or six persons, and in fine
weather was considered to be “the most delightful of all carriages.”
There was, too, a certain amount of state about it, and several noble
families continued to drive in them long after most other people had
given them up. When Ackermann, the publisher, invented his patent
movable axles about 1816, the barouche was one of the carriages to
which these axles were fitted. A print of this carriage is shown in
the accompanying illustration. A _barouchet_, corresponding to the
landaulet, was also built at this time, but was never popular. Bridges
Adams speaks of it as a graceless carriage for one horse.
The town chariot, or _coupé_, as it was called in France, and indeed,
at a later date in England, was being built lower than before, but
otherwise remained unaltered. The high driving seat was still removed
to transform the carriage into a post-chaise. Amusing instructions
for buying a chariot are given by John Jervis, an old coachman, in the
second volume of the _Horse and Carriage Oracle_, 1828. “The form of
Carriages,” he opines, “is as absurdly at the Mercy of Fashion, as the
Cut of a Coat is—however, if the Reader is willing to let the Builder
please himself with the form of the Exterior, he will not be quite so
polite as to submit the construction of the Interior entirely to the
caprice of his Coachmaker.” Don’t, he advises, have too much stuffing
inside: “_The present fashion of Stuffing_ is preposterous, it reduces
a Large Body to the size of a small One: however,” he adds obligingly,
“if you like to ride about for the benefit of public inspection, as
your friends, my _Lady Look-out_, the _Widow Will-be-seen_—and _Sir
Simon Stare_, do, pray, study Geoffrey Gambado on the Art of sitting
politely in Carriages, with the most becoming attitudes, &c., and
choose wide Door Lights and full Squabbing;—if you wish to go about
peaceably and quietly, like _Sir Solomon Snug_, and are contented with
seeing without being seen, adopt the contracted Lights, and common
Stuffing, which, among others, have this great advantage that when
you sit back, you may have the side Window down, and a thorough Air
passing through the Carriage, without it blowing directly in upon
you: this, to Invalids who easily catch Cold, is very important.” The
lining of the chariot, he recommends, should be “green, with Lace to
correspond, and the Green _silk Sun Shades_ of the same Colour,” green
being pleasant to the eye. Venetian blinds, he says, are very nice in
warm weather, and should be painted verdigris green on the inside and
on the outside a colour which matches with that of the coach-body.
Further instructions follow. You are advised never to permit officious
strangers to shut your carriage door—a piece of sound advice which
might well be followed to-day when seedy people expect a small tip for
having watched you get into a cab—and if your coachman sees any one
about to do so, he is to say “loudly and imperatively, ‘_Don’t meddle
with the Door!_’”
The chief maker of these chariots was the celebrated Samuel Hobson,
“who may be truly said to have improved and remodelled every sort
of carriage, which came under his notice, especially as regards the
artistic form and construction, both of body and carriage.” “Hobson’s
Chariots,” indeed, were in a class by themselves. “He lowered the
wheels of coaches and chariots,” says Thrupp, “to 3 ft. 3 in. in front
and 4 ft. 5 in. behind, and lengthened the carriage part once more to
such a true proportion to the whole vehicle as has approved itself as
correct to each succeeding generation of Coachbuilders and users of
carriages. He lowered the body, too, so that it could be entered by a
moderate double step instead of the three-fold ladder previously in
use.”
[Illustration: _Barouche_
_With Ackerman’s Patent Movable Axles_]
[Illustration: _Landaulet_
_With Patent Roof and Movable Axles_]
Mr. Jervis’s remarks about the coachmaker’s being allowed to choose
the exterior of his customer’s carriage no doubt followed on the
practice, mentioned by Bridges Adams, of building particular carriages
upon a general chariot basis. Of these hybrids, perhaps the most
popular was the _Briska-chariot_. The briska itself (more correctly
the _britzschka_) had been introduced into England from Austria about
1818 by Mr. T. G. Adams, though Bridges Adams thinks that it was
first brought here at a rather later date by the Earl of Clanwilliam,
“who liked it for its lightness; for which reason it probably obtained,
amongst coachmen and mechanics, the translated name _Brisker_ or
_Brisky_.” In England it was made in various sizes and with various
modifications. A small one for one horse was “a light open carriage,
fitted with a leathern top over the front inside seat; which top had
a glazed front and sides, or glazed front and Venetian blinds to the
sides.” Its chief characteristics were a small seat at the back of
the main body and a straight bottom line to the body itself—this
giving it “a ship-like and fast-going appearance.” Ten years after
its introduction it was so immensely popular as to threaten every
other carriage; nor was this altogether surprising, for in addition
to being liked for the sake of its own lightness, it lent itself so
well to every variety of purpose. And of these modified briskas, the
_briska-chariot_ was one of the most favoured. It was in particular
demand with those travelling abroad, inasmuch as its great length
enabled its passengers to lie at full length. Another variety, the
_droitzschka_ or _drosky_, was a modification of the Russian vehicle
of that name. This was built low, an open perch carriage with a hood,
used chiefly by “languid, aged, or nervous persons, and children.”
The drosky seems to have given the idea to Mr. David Davies for his
_pilentum_, which was very similar in appearance. This Mr. Davies is
also supposed to have been the inventor of the popular _cab-phaeton_,
a one-horse, low-hung carriage suspended on four elliptic springs.
On the Continent this carriage became known as a _milord_, once most
aristocratic, but by 1850 little better than a hack. It was somewhat
similar in appearance to the _victoria_.
The phaeton was still made, but was being superseded by the briska.
The main seat of the carriages, as in the old perch-high phaetons, was
still over the front axle, but the body was now hung low on elliptic
springs. Such a perchless carriage was called by Adams “the very
simplest form of wheeled vehicle in ordinary use. It is literally a
long box, with an arm-chair in front, and a bench behind.” And that is
a remarkably good description. Here, too, as with the chariots, there
were also various hybrids.
Landaulets were very popular in London, and were made in great
quantities by the firm with which Obadiah Elliott himself was
connected. A patent roof and Ackermann’s movable axles are shown in the
accompanying illustration of this carriage.
[Illustration: _Stanhope_]
[Illustration: _Tilbury_]
[Illustration: _Cabriolet_]
We come now to the two-wheeled carriages. Of these the most fashionable
was still the curricle, though Bridges Adams considered the shape of
the body “certainly unsightly.” It is interesting to notice in this
connection that the mode of attaching the two horses to the curricle
was “precisely that of the classic car, only more elegant.” It was in
a curricle that Charles Dickens rode about so soon as he was able to
afford the luxury of a private carriage. The _cabriolet_, somewhat
similar to it in form, was simply the old one-horse chaise brought
up to date. The body resembled a nautilus shell, thus differing from
the popular two-wheeled carriage called a _tilbury_. This had been
built first by a carriage-maker of the same name. It was constructed
without a boot (or hind seat) and was a very light carriage, with,
however, rather too much ironwork and too many springs—seven in
all—about it. Italy and Portugal seem to have taken to this particular
gig and numerous consignments were sent south by water. Another
vehicle, not very different, was the _stanhope_, also built by Tilbury
to the order of the Hon. Fitzroy Stanhope, a brother of Lord Petersham.
This was much like the old rib chair, but hung from four springs. The
only difference, so far as the shape of their bodies goes, between
the tilbury and the stanhope is to be found in the fact that in the
stanhope it is rather larger and more capacious. The _dennet_, invented
by a Mr. Bennett of Finsbury, had a body resembling that of a phaeton.
It had three springs, and Bridges Adams, without being certain upon the
point, thinks that it took its name from these three springs, which
were named after the three Misses Dennet, “whose elegant stage-dancing
was so much in vogue about the time the vehicle was first used.” The
lightest of all these carriages, however, was the common gig, such as
that arch-joker, Theodore Hook, was accustomed to drive in, which at
this time was “simply an open railed chair, fixed on the shafts, and
supported on two side springs, the harder ends of which were connected
to the loop irons by leathern braces—to give more freedom to the
motion.” Small alterations in the gig, such as the addition of a deep
boot and Venetian blinds to the lockers (to carry dogs) led to the
first _dog-cart_. Here the passengers sat back to back. _Tandem-carts_
were very similar, though here the driver’s seat was raised. The
dog-cart itself gave rise to numerous varieties, such as the _Newport_,
the _Malvern_, the _Whitechapel_, the _sliding body_, and the _Norwich_
carts.
In America the _buggy_, a light waggon, the _sulky_, the _fantail gig_,
the _tub-bodied gig_, the _chariotee_, and the _public sociable_ were
the chief carriages. The _rockaway_, made first in 1830, was a light
waggon with wooden springs on the outside of the body. The _volante_,
much used at this time by the Spanish ladies of South America and Cuba,
was a hooded gig upon two high wheels. But in America, as in Europe, no
entirely new bodies or methods of framing were needed, and such little
differences as there were are only of interest to the coachbuilder or
the expert.
Before passing, however, to the public conveyances, to which, it would
seem, most carriage-builders of an inventive turn were now giving their
attention, I may mention one or two particularly quaint or fanciful
carriages which do not readily fall into a recognised class.
About this time several people seem to have been at pains to produce a
three-wheeled carriage, “apparently designed,” says Croal, “to overcome
an element of danger in the ordinary two-wheeled gig, in which so much
of the business and pleasure of travelling took place.” In America, the
chief experiments in this direction were made by Dr. Nott, president
of Union College at Schenectady, who produced a three-wheeled chariot,
in which he drove about.[48] “The body of the vehicle was supported
by the near axle on two wheels, while a third wheel in front was in
close connection with the shafts, so that it revolved with them as
they turned. By this arrangement the body of the carriage could be hung
low, supported entirely by the wheels, while the third wheel in front,
revolving in a small circle with the shaft, enabled the occupants to
make a short and safe turn.” What became of this weird vehicle is not
known, but its inventor’s memory was enshrined in a song, one verse of
which runs as follows:—
“Where, oh where, is the good old Doctor?
Where, oh where, is the good old Doctor?
He went up in the Three Wheel Chariot,
Safe into the Promised Land!”