STAGE AND MAIL COACHES.
Prior to the middle of the seventeenth century, about which period
stage-coaches came into use in England, the only vehicles available to
ordinary travellers would seem to have been the carrier's stage-waggon,
which, owing to its lumbering build and the deplorable state of the
roads, made only from ten to fifteen miles in a long summer's day. The
interior of such waggons exhibited none of the refinements of modern
means of travel, the only furnishing of the machine being a quantity of
straw littered on the floor, on which the passengers could sit or lie
during the weary hours of their journey. Though the stage-coaches came
into vogue about the middle of the seventeenth century, as already
stated, the heavy waggons seem also to have held a place till much
later--for in one of these Roderick Random performed part of his journey
to London in 1739; and it was doubtless only the meaner class of people
who travelled in that way, as the description given by Smollett of his
companions does not mirror, certainly, people of fashion. M. Sobriere, a
Frenchman, on his way from Dover to London in the reign of Charles II.,
thus writes of his experience of the waggon: "That I might not take
post, or be obliged to use the stage-coach, I went from Dover to London
in a waggon. It was drawn by six horses, one before another, and driven
by a waggoner, who walked by the side of it. He was clothed in black,
and appointed in all things like another St George. He had a brave
Montero on his head, and was a merry fellow, fancied he made a figure,
and seemed mightily pleased with himself." Unlike travelling in the
present day, when one may go 100 miles in a railway carriage without
speaking to a fellow-passenger, the journey in the old-fashioned waggon
brought all the travellers too close and too long together to admit of
individual isolation, for the passengers might be associated for days
together as companions, had to take their refreshment together, lived as
it were in common, and it was even the custom to elect a chairman at the
outset to preside over the company during the journey. But the
stage-coach gradually became the established public conveyance of the
country, improving in its construction and its rate of progression as
the improved state of the roads admitted of and encouraged such
improvement. Still, compared with the stage-coaches of the best period,
travelling by the earlier stage-coaches was a sorry achievement. Here is
an advertisement of stage-coaches of the year 1658:--
"From the 26th April there will continue to go stage-coaches from the
George Inn, without Aldersgate, London, unto the several cities and
towns, for the rates and at the times hereafter mentioned and
declared:--
"Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday--To Salisbury, in two days, for xx.
s.; to Blandford and Dorchester, in two days and half, for xxx. s.; to
Burput, in three days, for xxx. s.; to Exmister, Hunnington, and Exeter,
in four days, for xl. s.; to Stamford, in two days, for xx. s.; ... to
York, in four days, for xl. s."
Indeed the charges might have been reckoned by time, the travelling
being at the rate of about 10s. a day. Another advertisement in 1739
thus sets forth the merits of some of the stage-coaches of the
period:--
"Exeter Flying Stage-coach in three days, and Dorchester and Blandford
in two days. Go from the Saracen's Head Inn, in Friday Street, London,
every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; and from the New Inn, in Exeter,
every Tuesday and Thursday." Then the advertisement makes known the
fact, with regard to another coach, that the stage begins "Flying on
Monday next." They were not satisfied in those days with a coach
"going," "running," or "proceeding," but they set them "flying" at the
rates of speed which may be gathered from these notices. Nearly thirty
years later another advertisement set forth that the Taunton Flying
Machine, hung on steel springs, sets out from the Saracen's Head Inn, in
Friday Street, London, and Taunton, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,
at three o'clock in the morning, the journey taking two days. There were
places inside for six passengers, and the fares were as follows, viz.:--
To Taunton, L1 16 0
" Ilminster, 1 14 0
" Yeovil, 1 8 0
" Sherborne, 1 6 0
" Shaftesbury, 1 4 0
Outside passengers, and children in the lap, were half these fares.
To follow out in a historical fashion the development of the coaching
period down to the introduction of railways, would be beyond the purpose
of this work, nor will the limits of these pages admit of so great an
extension of the subject. The earlier modes of travelling, and the
difficulties of the roads, are treated of in several histories of
England in a general way, and more fully in such books as the 'Lives of
the Engineers,' by Smiles; 'Old Coaching Days,' by Stanley Harris; and
'Annals of the Road,' by Captain Malet,--all of which contain much that
is entertaining and interesting. Here it is proposed merely to recall
some of the incidents of the coaching days, so far as they relate to the
mail-service, between the time when Palmer's mail-coaches were put on
the road in 1784, down to the time when they were shouldered off the
road by the more powerful iron horse.
The dangers to which the mail-coaches were exposed were chiefly of three
kinds,--the danger of being robbed by footpads or highwaymen; that of
being upset in the road by running foul of some cart, dray, or waggon,
or other object placed in the way; and the peril of being overtaken by
snowstorms, and so rendered helpless and cut off from the usual
communications.
It was an almost everyday occurrence for the mail-bags to be robbed on
the night journeys, when the principal mails were carried. We know of
these things now through notices which were issued by the Post-office at
the time, of which copies are still in existence. Here are the terms of
a notice issued to the mail-guards in March 1802:--
"Three Irishmen are in custody for highway robbery. One of them has
confessed, and declares that their purpose in going out was to rob the
mail-coach. Their first step was to watch an opportunity and fire at the
guard, which it is supposed might have been easily obtained, as they are
so frequently off their guard. They had pistols found on them. It is
therefore necessary, in addition to your former instructions, to direct
that you are particularly vigilant and watchful, that you keep a quick
eye to every person stirring, and that you see your arms are in the best
possible condition, and ready for instant duty."
On the 21st December 1805, a bag of letters for Stockport was stolen out
of the mail-box while the coach was in Macclesfield. It was a Sunday
night about ten o'clock when the robbery took place, and the bag was
found empty under a haystack near the town. The following notice of
another robbery was issued by the Postmaster-General on the 1st March
1810:--
"Whereas the bags of letters from this office (London), of last night,
for the following towns--viz.,
Hatfield,
Welwyn,
Stevenage,
Baldock,
Biggleswade,
Kimbolton,
St Neots,
Oundle,
Stilton,
Wansford,
Grantham,
Spilsby,
Spalding,
Lowth,
Horncastle,
and
Boston,
--were stolen from the mail-box, about ten o'clock on the same night,
supposed at Barnet, by forcibly wrenching off the lock whilst the horses
were changing; whoever shall apprehend and convict, or cause to be
apprehended and convicted, the person or persons who stole the said
bags, shall be entitled to a reward of One Hundred Pounds," &c.
On Monday the 19th November of the same year, the bags of letters from
Melton Mowbray,
Oakham,
Uppingham,
Kettering,
Thrapston,
Higham Ferrers,
and
Wellingborough,
were stolen at Bedford at about nine o'clock in the evening.
Again, in January 1813, a further warning to the guards was issued,
showing the necessity for vigilance on the part of these officers, by
describing some of the recent robberies which were the occasion for the
warning:--
"The guards are desired by Mr Hasker to be particularly attentive to
their mail-box. Depredations are committed every night on some
stage-coaches by stealing parcels. I shall relate a few, which I trust
will make you circumspect. The Bristol mail-coach has been robbed within
a week of the bankers' parcel, value L1000 or upwards. The Bristol
mail-coach was robbed of money the 3d instant to a large amount. The
'Expedition' coach has been twice robbed in the last week--the last time
of all the parcels out of the seats. The 'Telegraph' was robbed last
Monday night between Saracen's Head, Aldgate, and Whitechapel Church, of
all the parcels out of the dicky. It was broken open while the guard was
on it, standing up blowing his horn. The York Mail was robbed of parcels
out of the seats to a large amount."
The following account of a stage-coach robbery committed on that, at one
time, notoriously dangerous ground called Hounslow Heath, is taken from
the 'Annals of the Road,' already referred to in this work:--
"In the reign of King George III., a stage coach, driven by one
Williams, and going over Hounslow Heath on the road between Reading and
London, was stopped by a highwayman, who, riding up, demanded money of
the passengers. A lady gave up her watch, a gent his purse, and away
goes the highwayman, followed, however, by Williams (the bold) on one of
the leaders, who 'nailed' and brought him back to the coach, on which he
was placed and taken to Staines. This occurred on a Tuesday; the hearing
before the magistrates took place on Wednesday; on Thursday he was in
Newgate; on Friday he was tried, and sentenced to be hung on Monday.
Williams then got up a memorial, petitioning for a reprieve; and on this
being presented to his Majesty, the sentence was commuted to
transportation for life. The king was so pleased with Williams's daring,
that he presented him with a key of Windsor Park gates, to be used by
him and his descendants so long as they drove a coach from Reading to
London. This royal authority allowed them to pass through the park
instead of going by the turnpike road."
Another very interesting account of a mail-coach robbery is given by Mr
S. C. Hall in his 'Retrospect of a Long Life,' the object of the outrage
being, not apparently plunder for plunder's sake in the ordinary sense,
but to recover some legal documents and money paid as rent by a man in
the neighbourhood who stood high in local favour, but was understood to
have been harshly treated by his landlord. The case occurred in Ireland,
and is characteristic of the way in which the Irish people give vent to
their feelings when they are stirred by affection or sentiment.
"I was travelling in Ireland (it must have been about the year 1818),
between Cork and Skibbereen, when I witnessed a stoppage of the mail to
rob it. The road was effectually barricaded by a huge tree, passage was
impossible, and a dozen men with blackened faces speedily surrounded the
coach. To attempt resistance would have been madness: the guard wisely
abstained from any, but surrendered his arms; the priming was removed,
and they were returned to him. The object of the gang was limited to
acquiring the mail-bags; they were known to contain some writs against a
gentleman very popular in the district. These being extracted, the coach
pursued its way without further interruption. The whole affair did not
occupy five minutes. It was subsequently ascertained, however, that
there had been a further purpose. The gentleman had that day paid his
rent--all in bank-notes; when the agent desired to mark them, there was
neither pen nor ink in the house; the mail-bag contained these notes.
Where they eventually found their way was never proved, but it was
certain they did not reach the landlord, whose receipt was in the hands
of his tenant, duly signed."
Interceptions of the mail for the purpose of preventing the serving of
writs by means of the post are not unknown in Ireland at the present
time. In August 1883 a post-runner near Mallow was stopped by two men,
dressed in women's clothes and with blackened faces, who seized his
mail-bag, and made search for registered letters which it was supposed
might have contained ejectment notices. None were found, however, and
the men returned the other letters to the runner. A similar outrage was
committed in the same neighbourhood in 1881.
The following exciting and unpleasant adventure happened to the
passengers by the Enniskillen mail-coach on its way to Dublin on the
morning of the 4th January 1813. The coach had safely made its journey
to a point within two miles of a place called Dunshaughlin, the time
being about 3 A.M., when the mail-guard, watchful as his duty required,
espied a number of men suspiciously lying on each side of the road in
advance of him. The night must have been clear, and probably there was
bright moonlight; as otherwise, at that early hour in the month of
January, the men lying in wait could not have been observed. There being
little doubt that an attack upon the mail was contemplated, the carriage
was at once drawn up, and the alarm given. The drowsy or benumbed
travellers, thus rudely aroused and brought to a sense of their danger,
hastily jumped to the ground, and demanded the spare arms which were
carried for use on like emergencies. These were immediately served out
to the passengers, who, if not animated by true Irish spirit at so early
an hour, to fight for fighting's sake, were at any rate determined to
defend their lives and property. At the head of the coach-party in this
lonely and trying situation was a clergyman of the County Cavan named
King, who, like Father Tom in the play, had not forgotten the
accomplishments of his youth, and who was prepared to carry the message
of peace and goodwill with the blunderbuss at the ready, this being the
weapon with which he had armed himself. The robbers, perceiving that
they were to encounter a determined opposition, thought it wise to
retreat; and while the guards stood by their charge--the mail-coach--the
men were pursued over a field by Mr King, on whom they fired, without,
however, doing any damage. The parson, deeming a return necessary,
replied with the gaping blunderbuss--and to some purpose it was thought,
for three of the men were within twenty yards of him when he fired. The
would-be robbers being now driven off, the passengers had time to
realise their fright; and gathering themselves again into the coach, the
journey was continued, though it is hardly likely that sleep resumed its
sway over the terrified passengers for the remaining hours of that
particular night.
These are but a few instances of the robberies against which the guards
were constantly warned to be on the alert, and which they were enjoined
to prevent. They were provided with a blunderbuss and a brace of
pistols, to make a good defence in case of need; and it may be
interesting to recall that the charge for the former was ten or twelve
shot the size of a pea, and two-thirds of such charge for the
latter--the quantity of lead mentioned being sufficient, one would
suppose, if well directed, to give a hot welcome to any one attempting
the mail.
But the guards were very often not so vigilant as they should have been,
the ale-houses having then the attractions which to many they still
have: sometimes they fell asleep on their boxes, and in other respects
wofully infringed the regulations. The following official notice plainly
shows this:--
"I am very sorry to be under the necessity of addressing the mail-guards
on such a subject; but though every direction and inspection are given
them, and they are fully informed of the punishments that must follow if
they do not do their duty, yet, notwithstanding this, and every
admonition given in every way that can be devised, four guards that were
looked upon as very good ones, have in the course of last week been
guilty of such misconduct as obliges their discharge--for the public,
who trust their lives and property in the conduct of the office, can
never be expected to suffer such neglect to pass unnoticed. The four
guards discharged are John ----, for having his mail-box unlocked at
Ferry-bridge while the mail was therein; Wm. ----, for going to the
office at York drunk to fetch his mail, though barely able to stand; W.
----, for bringing the mail on the outside of the mail-box and on the
roof, and converting the mail-box to another use; W. ----, for going
from London to Newmarket without firearms."
On another occasion a guard was fined five guineas "for suffering a man
to ride on the roof of the mail-coach," and at the same time he was told
that if he had not owned the truth he would have been dismissed--this
being followed by the quaint observation, looking like a grim official
joke, "which he may be now, if he had rather than pay the fine to the
fund"! One more notice as to the vice of taking drink on the part of the
guards, and as showing the impressive and formal manner of carrying out
a dismissal in the coaching days. The document is of the year 1803, and
runs as follows, viz.:--
"I am very sorry to order in all the guards to witness the dismissal of
one old in the service; but so imperious is the duty, that was he my
brother he would be dismissed: indeed I do not think there is a guard
who hears this but will say, a man who goes into an ale-house, stays to
drink (and at Brentford) at the dusk of morning, leaving his mail-box
unlocked, deserves to lose his situation; and he is dismissed
accordingly. And I am sure I need not stimulate you to avoid fresh
misconduct--to read your instructions, and to mind them. I am the more
sorry for this, as guards who have been some time in the service are
fit for no other duty."
Towards the drivers also of the mail-coaches severe measures were taken
when they got drunk; and the penalty sometimes took a peculiar form, as
witness the following public act of submission and contrition:--
"Whereas I, John ----, being driver of the mail-coach, on my way from
Congleton to Coleshill on Monday, December 25, 1809" (some excuse,
perhaps, on account of its being Christmas-day), "did stop at several
places on the road to drink, and thereby got intoxicated,--from which
misconduct, driving furiously, and being from my coach on its returning,
suffered the horses to set off and run through the town of Coleshill, at
the risk of overturning the carriage, and thereby endangering the lives
of the passengers, and other misfortunes which might otherwise have
occurred: for which misdeeds the Postmasters-General were determined to
punish me with the utmost rigour, and if it had been prosecuted, would
have made me liable to the penalty incurred by the said offence of
_imprisonment for six months_, _and not less than three_; but from my
general good character, and having a large family, have generously
forgiven me on my showing contrition for the past offence, as a caution
to all mail and other coachmen, and making this public acknowledgment."
In another case a mail-coach driver was summoned before a magistrate for
intoxication and impertinence to passengers, and was thereupon mulcted
in a penalty of L10, with costs.
The accidents that befell the coaches were sometimes of a really serious
character, and of very frequent occurrence--some of them, or perhaps
many of them, being due wholly to carelessness. A person writing in 1822
remarks as follows:--"It is really heartrending to hear of the dreadful
accidents that befall his Majesty's subjects now on their travels
through the country. In my younger days, when I was on the eve of
setting out on a journey, my wife was in the habit of giving me her
parting blessing, concluding with the words, 'God bless you, my dear; I
hope you will not be robbed.' But it is now changed to 'God bless you,
my dear; I hope you will not get your neck broke, and that you will
bring all your legs safe home again.'" Sometimes the drivers, if it fell
in their way to overtake or be overtaken by an opposition coach, would
go in for proving who had the best team, and an exciting race would
result. Sometimes a horse would fall, and bring the coach to grief; and
in the night-time the horses would occasionally tumble over obstacles
maliciously placed on the road to bring this about. Whether this was
always done to facilitate robbery, or out of sheer wantonness, is not
quite clear, but instances of such acts of wickedness were frequent. On
the night of the 5th June 1804, some evil-disposed persons placed a gate
in the middle of the turnpike road near Welwyn Green, and set up two
other gates at the entrance of Welwyn Lane, also across the road, with
the view of obstructing the mail-coach and injuring the persons of the
passengers. Early on the morning of the 14th April 1806, the mail-coach
was obstructed, in coming out of Dumfries, by some evil-disposed persons
placing boughs or branches of trees across the turnpike road, by which
the lives of the passengers were put in peril and the mail much delayed.
A similar outrage was committed on the night of the 27th August 1809,
when a large gate was placed in the middle of the road on Ewenny Bridge,
near Bridgend, in Glamorganshire. In this instance the horses of the
mail-coach took fright, imperilling the lives of all upon the coach; for
it is very likely that they narrowly escaped being thrown over the
bridge. Again, on the night of the 30th April 1812, some persons placed
eleven gates at different points across the road two or three miles out
of Lancaster, on the way to Burton-in-Kendal, whereby destruction was
nearly brought upon the mail-coach and its human freight. Between
Northwich and Warrington, early on the morning of the 19th November
1815, eight or ten gates and a door were placed in the way of the
mail-coach, and further on a broad-wheeled cart, with the view of
wrecking the mail. On Sunday, the 15th June 1817, the horses of the
mail-coach were thrown down near Newmarket, and much injured, by
stumbling over a plough and harrow, wickedly placed in their way by
some evil-doers. These are but a few of the cases of such malicious
acts, with respect to which rewards were offered by the
Postmaster-General at the time, for the discovery of the offenders.
[Illustration: Notice of Offer of Reward.]
But there were other ways in which the mail was placed in
jeopardy--namely, by waggoners with teams getting in the middle of the
highway, and not clearing out smartly to let the mails go by, or by
otherwise so driving their horses as to foul with the mail-coach. And it
is curious to observe how such cases were dealt with by the Post-office.
The following poster, issued publicly, will explain the matter:--
"CAUTION TO CARTERS.
"Whereas I, Edward Monk, servant to James Smith of Pendlebury, near
Manchester, farmer, did, on Tuesday the 24th day of July last,
misconduct myself in the driving of my master's cart on the Pendleton
road, by not only riding furiously in the cart, but damaging the York
and Liverpool mail-coach, and endangering the lives of the
passengers--for which the conductor of the mails has directed a
prosecution against me; but on condition of this my public submission,
and paying the expenses attending it, all proceedings have been
discontinued. And I thank the conductor, and the gentlemen whose lives I
endangered, for their very great lenity shown me; and I promise not to
be guilty of such outrage in future. And I trust this will operate as a
caution to all carters or persons who may have the care of carts and
other carriages, to behave themselves peaceably and properly on the
king's highway. Witness my hand, the 2d Aug. 1804."
Then there was the danger attending the running away of the horses with
the coach, of which the following is an instance, the facts being
succinctly set forth in a notice of 1810, of which the following is a
copy:--
"Whereas Walter Price, the driver of the Chester and Manchester
mail-coach, on Thursday night the 22d Nov. 1810, on arriving in Chester,
incautiously left his horses without any person at their heads, to give
out a passenger's luggage (while the guard was gone to the post-office
with the mail-bags), when they ran off with the mail-coach through the
city of Chester, taking the road to Holywell, but fortunately without
doing any injury; in consequence of which neglect, the driver was, on
the Saturday following, brought before the magistrates, and fined in the
full penalty of Five pounds, according to the late Act of Parliament."
And through the city of Chester, with its narrow streets! It seems a
miracle how four runaway horses, with a coach at their heels, could have
cleared the town without dire disaster.
Again, it would come to pass that in dark nights the horses would
sometimes stumble over a stray donkey or other animal which had taken up
its night-quarters in the middle of the road, and there made its bed.
Nor were these the only perils of the road, which were always increased
when the nights were thick with fog. On the morning of the 30th December
1813, the mail from the South reached Berwick late owing to a fog, the
horses being led by the driver, notwithstanding whose care the coach had
been overturned twice. The drivers were called upon on occasions to make
up their minds in a moment to choose one of two courses, when danger
suddenly burst upon them and there was no escape from it. A good
instance of such a case happened to the driver of the Edinburgh to
Dumfries mail-coach, who proved that he could reason his case quickly
and take his resolve. At one of the stages he had changed horses, and
was proceeding on his way, the first portion of the road being down a
steep hill with an abrupt turn at the foot. He had hardly got his coach
fairly set in motion, when to his dismay he perceived that the
wheelers, two new horses, had no notion of holding back. The animals
became furious, while the passengers became alarmed. It seemed a
hopeless task to control the horses under the circumstances, and to
attempt to take the turn at the foot of the hill would have assured the
upsetting of the coach and all its belongings. At this juncture the
passengers observed a strange smile creep over the coachman's face,
while he gathered up the reins in the best style of the profession, at
the same time lashing his horses into a good gallop. Terror-struck, the
passengers saw nothing but destruction before them; yet they had no
alternative but to await the issue. Opposite the foot of the hill was a
stout gate leading into a field, and this was the goal the driver had in
view. Steadying the coach by keeping its course straight, he gave his
horses all the momentum they could gather, and shot them direct at the
gate. The gate went into splinters, the horses and coach bounded into
the field, and were there immediately drawn up, neither horses, coach,
nor passengers being seriously hurt by the adventure.
[Illustration: HOLYHEAD AND CHESTER MAILS SNOWED UP NEAR DUNSTABLE--26TH
DEC. 1836. (_From an old Print._)]
Of all the interruptions to the mail-coach service, none were so serious
as those which were occasioned by snowstorms, nor were the dangers
attending them of a light nature to the drivers, guards, or passengers.
The work achieved by man, either for good or evil, how insignificant
does it not seem when contrasted with the phenomena of nature!
In the year 1799 a severe snowstorm occurred in the country, which very
much deranged the mail-service, as may be gathered from the following
circular issued by the London Post-office on the 27th April of that
year:--
"Several mail-coaches being still missing that were obstructed in the
snow since the 1st February last, this is to desire you will immediately
represent to me an account of all spare patent mail-coaches that are in
the stage where you travel over, whether they are regular stationed
mail-coaches or extra spare coaches, and the exact place where they are,
either in barn, field, yard, or coach-house, and the condition they are
in, and if they have seats, rugs, and windows complete." So that here,
after a lapse of about three months, the Post-office had not recovered
the use of all its mail-coaches, and was beginning to hunt up the
missing vehicles.
Another snowstorm occurred in January 1814, evidence of which, from a
passenger's point of view, is furnished by Macready in his
'Reminiscences.' He wrote as follows:--
"The snow was falling fast, and had already drifted so high between the
Ross Inn and Berwick-on-Tweed that it had been necessary to cut a
passage for carriages for some miles. We did not reach Newcastle until
nearly two hours after midnight: and fortunate was it for the theatre
and ourselves that we had not delayed our journey, for the next day the
mails were stopped; nor for more than six weeks was there any conveyance
by carriage between Edinburgh and Newcastle. After some weeks a passage
was cut through the snow for the guards to carry the mails on horseback,
but for a length of time the communications every way were very
irregular."
But Christmas of 1836 must bear the palm for snowstorms which have
succeeded in deranging the mail-service in England, and it may be well
to quote here some accounts of the circumstances written at the time:--
"The guard of the Glasgow mail, which arrived on Sunday morning, said
that the roads were in the northern parts heavy with snow, and that at
one place the mail was two hours getting over four miles of road. Never
before, within recollection, was the London mail stopped for a whole
night at a few miles from London; and never before has the intercourse
between the southern shires of England and the metropolis been
interrupted for two whole days."
"Fourteen mail-coaches were abandoned on the various roads."
"The Brighton mail (from London) reached Crawley, but was compelled to
return. The Dover mail also returned, not being able to proceed farther
than Gravesend. The Hastings mail was also obliged to return. The
Brighton up-mail of Sunday had travelled about eight miles from that
town, when it fell into a drift of snow, from which it was impossible to
extricate it without further assistance. The guard immediately set off
to obtain all necessary aid; but when he returned, no trace whatever
could be found either of the coach, coachman, or passengers, three in
number. After much difficulty the coach was found, but could not be
extricated from the hollow into which it had got. The guard did not
reach town until seven o'clock on Tuesday night, having been obliged to
travel with the bags on horseback, and in many instances to leave the
main road and proceed across fields, in order to avoid the deep drifts
of snow."
"The Bath and Bristol mails, due on Tuesday morning, were abandoned
eighty miles from London, and the mail-bags brought up in a
postchaise-and-four by the two guards, who reached London at six o'clock
on Wednesday morning. For seventeen miles of the distance they had to
come across fields."
"The Manchester down-mail reached St Albans, and getting off the road
into a hollow, was upset. The guard returned to London in a post-chaise
and four horses with the bags and passengers."
"About a mile from St Albans, on the London side, a chariot without
horses was seen on Tuesday nearly buried in the snow. There were two
ladies inside, who made an earnest appeal to the mail-guard, whose
coach had got into a drift nearly at the same spot. The ladies said the
postboy had left them to go to St Albans to get fresh cattle, and had
been gone two hours. The guard was unable to assist them, and his mail
being extracted, he pursued his journey for London, leaving the chariot
and ladies in the situation where they were first seen."
"The Devonport mail arrived at half-past eleven o'clock. The guard, who
had travelled with it from Ilminster, a distance of 140 miles, states
that journey to have been a most trying one to both men and cattle. The
storm commenced when they reached Wincanton, and never afterwards
ceased. The wind blew fresh, and the snow and sleet in crossing
Salisbury Plain were driving into their faces so as almost to blind
them. Between Andover and Whitchurch the mail was stuck fast in a
snowdrift, and the horses, in attempting to get out, were nearly buried.
The coachman got down, and almost disappeared in the drift upon which he
alighted. Fortunately, at this juncture, a waggon with four horses came
up, and by unyoking these from the waggon and attaching them to the
mail, it was got out of the hollow in which it was sunk."
These are some of the reports, written at the time, of the
disorganisation of the mail-service in consequence of the snowstorm.
Some slight idea of the magnitude of the drifts may be obtained from one
or two additional particulars. The mail proceeding from Exeter for
London was five times buried in the snow, and had to be dug out. A
mail-coach got off the road seven miles from Louth, and went over into a
gravel-pit, one of the horses being killed and the guard severely
bruised. So deeply was another coach buried on this line of road that it
took 300 men, principally sappers and miners, working several hours, to
make a passage to the coach and rescue the mails and passengers. Near
Chatham the snow lay to a depth of 30 or 40 feet, and the military were
turned out to the number of 600 to clear the roads.
[Illustration: THE DEVONPORT MAIL-COACH FORCING ITS WAY THROUGH A
SNOWDRIFT NEAR AMESBURY--27TH DEC. 1836. (_From an old Print._)]
On the line of road from Chatham to Dover, a sum of L700 was spent by
the road-trustees in opening up the road for the resumption of traffic,
an official report stating that for 26 miles the road "was blocked up by
an impenetrable mass of snow varying from 3 feet to 18 feet in depth."
Between Leicester and Northampton cuttings were made, just wide enough
for a coach to pass, where the snow was heaped up to a height of 30, 40,
and in some places 50 feet. About a stage from Coventry, near a place
called Dunchurch, seventeen coaches were reported to be laid up in the
snow; and in other parts of the country a similar wholesale derangement
or stoppage of road-traffic took place.
On the 9th January 1837, an official report set forth that "the
mail-coach road between Louth and Sheffield had on the 6th inst. been
closed twelve days in consequence of the snow, and it is stated that it
will be a week before the mail can run." An attempt was made to get the
mail forward from Lewes to London by post-chaise and four horses; but
after proceeding about a mile from the town, the chaise returned, the
driver reporting that it was impossible to proceed, as the main road was
quite blocked up with snow to a depth of 10 or 12 feet.
These were the good old times; and no doubt to us they have a romance,
though to the people who lived in them they had a very practical aspect.
The general instructions to mail-guards in cases of breakdown were as
follows:--
"When the coach is so broke down that it cannot proceed as it is on its
way to London, if you have not above two passengers, and you can procure
a post-chaise without loss of time, get them and the mail forward in
that way, with the horses that used to draw the mail-coach, that they
may be in their places (till you come to where a coach is stationed);
and if you have lost any time, you must endeavour to fetch it up, which
may be easily done, as the chaise is lighter than the coach.
"If you cannot get a post-chaise, take off one of the coach-horses, and
ride with your bags to the next stage; there take another horse,--and so
on till you come to the end of your ground, when you must deliver the
bags to the next guard, who must proceed in the same manner. If your
mail is so large (as the York, Manchester, and two or three others are
at some part of the road) that one horse cannot carry it, you may take
two; tie the mail on one horse and ride the other. The person who horses
the mail must order his horsekeeper at every stage to furnish you with
horses in case of accidents. Change your horses at every post-town, and
do all your office-duty the same as if the coach travelled.
"If in travelling from London an accident happens, use all possible
expedition in repairing the coach to proceed; and if it cannot be
repaired in an hour or two, take the mail forward by horse or chaise--if
the latter, the passengers will go with you."
In pursuance of these instructions, many instances of devotion to duty
were given by the mail-guards, in labouring to get the mails forward in
the midst of the snowstorm of 1836.
On the 26th of December the Birmingham mail-coach, proceeding to London,
got rather beyond Aylesbury, where it broke down. Some things having
been set right, another effort was made, and some little further way
made; but the attempt to go on had to be given up, for the snow was
getting deeper at every step. A hurricane was blowing, accompanied with
a fall of fine snow, and the horses shook with extreme cold. In these
circumstances, Price the mail-guard mounted one of the horses, tied his
mail-bags on the back of another, and set out for London. He was joined
farther on by two postboys on other horses with the bye-bags, and all
three journeyed in company. The road-marks being frequently effaced,
they were constantly deviating from their proper course, clearing gates,
hedges, and ditches; but having a general knowledge of the lie of the
country, and Price being possessed of good nerves, they succeeded in
reaching the metropolis. The guard was in a distressing state of
exhaustion when he reached his destination. This was only one instance
of the way in which the guards acquitted themselves during this
memorable storm, and for their great exertions they received the special
thanks of the Postmaster-General.
At a place called Cavendish Bridge the mails were arrested by the storm,
and the exertions of the coachman and guard were thus referred to by a
private gentleman of the neighbourhood, who communicated with the
Post-office on the subject: "I take leave to remark that the zeal and
industry evinced by the guard and coachman, more especially the former
(named Needle), upon the trying occasion to which your communication has
reference, was well worthy of imitation, and formed a striking contrast
to the reprehensible apathy of two gentlemen who were inside passengers
by the mail."
A notable instance of the devotion to duty of a coachman and mail-guard,
and one illustrating the dangers and hardships which Post-office
servants of that class had to encounter, occurred in the winter of 1831.
On Tuesday the 1st February of that year, James M'George, mail-guard,
and John Goodfellow, coachman, set out from Dumfries for Edinburgh at
seven o'clock in the morning, and after extraordinary exertions reached
Moffat,--beyond which, however, they found it impossible to proceed with
the coach, owing to the accumulation of snow. They then procured
saddle-horses, and with these, accompanied by a postboy, they went on,
intending to continue their journey in this way. They had not proceeded
beyond Erickstane Hill, a rising ground in close proximity to the
well-known natural enclosure called the Deil's Beef-Tub, when it became
evident that the horses could not make the journey, and these were sent
back in charge of the postboy to Moffat. The guard and coachman,
unwilling to give in, continued their journey on foot, having in view to
reach a roadside inn at Tweedshaws, some two or three miles farther on.
The exact particulars of what thereafter happened will never be known,
beyond this, that the mail-bags were afterwards found tied to one of the
road-posts set up in like situations to mark the line of road on
occasions of snowstorms, and that the two men perished in the drift. The
last act performed by them, before being quite overcome by exhaustion
and fatigue, was inspired by a sense of duty, their aim being to leave
the bags where they would more readily be found by others, should they
themselves not live to recover them. Shortly after this the two men
appear to have succumbed; for their bodies were found five days
afterwards within a hundred yards of the place where they left the bags,
and where at the cost of their lives they had rendered their last
service to the Post-office and their country.
"And down he sinks
Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift,
Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death,
Mix'd with the tender anguish Nature shoots
Through the wrung bosom of the dying man,
His wife, his children, and his friends unseen.
... On every nerve
The deadly winter seizes; shuts up sense;
And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold,
Lays him along the snows, a stiffened corse,
Stretch'd out, and bleaching in the northern blast."
--THOMSON.
We who are accustomed to the comforts of railway travelling, are
nevertheless, in regard to accidents, very much like the ostrich; for
though we do not purposely close our eyes to danger, we are nevertheless
placed in such a position that we are unable, when shut up in a railway
carriage, to see what is before us, or about to happen.
Far otherwise was the case in the days of coaching. The passengers, as
well as the drivers and guards, were not only exposed to the drenchings
from long-continued rain, the terrible exposure to the cold night-air in
winter travelling, and the danger of attack from highwaymen, but they
ran the risks of all the accidents of the road, many of which they could
see to be inevitable before they happened. There were occasions when
passengers were frozen to death on the coaches, and others when they
fell off benumbed with cold. It is said sometimes that first impressions
are often correct; but there are, of course, erroneous first impressions
as well. A story is told of a mail-guard in Scotland who had the
misfortune to be on a coach which upset, and from which all the outside
people were thrown to the ground. The guard came down upon his head on
the top of a stiff hedge, and from this temporary situation rolled into
a ditch, where for a moment he lay. Coming to himself from a partial
stupor, he imagined there was something wrong with the top of his head,
and putting up his hand, he felt a flat surface, which to his dawning
perception appeared to be a section of his neck, his impression being
that his head had been cut off. This was, however, nothing but the
crown of his hat, which, being forced down over his head and face, had
probably saved him from more serious damage. Broken limbs were accidents
of common occurrence; but affairs of much more serious import
occasionally took place, of which the following is a notable example:--
On the night of Tuesday the 25th October 1808, the road between Carlisle
and Glasgow was the scene of a catastrophe which will serve to
illustrate in a striking degree one of the perils of the postal service
in the mail-coach era. The place where the event now to be described
occurred, lies between Beattock and Elvanfoot (about five miles from the
latter place), where the highway crosses the Evan Water, a stream which
takes its rise near the sources of the Clyde, but whose waters are
carried southward into Dumfriesshire. To be more precise, the situation
is between two places called Raecleuch and Howcleuch, on the Carlisle
road; and a bridge which now spans the water, in lieu of a former
bridge, retains by association, to this day, the name of the "Broken
Bridge."
It was at the breaking up of a severe storm of frost and snow, when the
rivers were flooded to such an extent as had never been seen by the
oldest people in the neighbourhood. The bridge had been but recently
built; and though it was afterwards stated that the materials composing
the mortar must have been of bad quality, no doubt would seem to have
been entertained as to the security of the bridge. The night was dark,
and accompanied by both wind and rain--elements which frequently usher
in a state of thaw. The mail-coach having passed the _summit_, was
speeding along at a good round pace, the "outsiders" doubtless making
themselves as comfortable as circumstances would allow, while the
"insides," as we might imagine, had composed themselves into some
semblance of sleep, the time being between nine and ten o'clock, when,
suddenly and without warning, the whole equipage--horses, coach, driver,
guard, and passengers--on reaching the middle of the bridge, went
headlong precipitate into the swollen stream through a chasm left by the
collapse of the arch. It is by no means easy to realise what the
thoughts would be of those concerned in this dreadful
experience--pitched into a roaring torrent, in a most lonely place, at a
late hour on such a night. The actual results were, however, very
serious. The two leading horses were killed outright by the fall, while
one of the wheelers was killed by a heavy stone descending upon it from
the still impending portions of the wrecked structure. The coach and
harness also were utterly destroyed. But, worse still, two outside
passengers, one a Mr Lund, a partner in a London house, and the other
named Brand, a merchant in Ecclefechan, were killed on the spot, while a
lady and three gentlemen who were inside passengers miraculously escaped
with their lives, though they were severely bruised. The lady, who had
scrambled out of the vehicle, sought refuge on a rock in mid-stream,
there remaining prisoner for a time; and by her means a second
catastrophe of a similar kind was happily averted. The mail from
Carlisle for Glasgow usually exchanged "Good-night" with the south-going
coach, when they were running to time, just about the scene of the
accident. Fortunately the coach from Carlisle was rather late; but when
it did arrive, the lady on the rock, seeing the lights approach,
screamed aloud, and thus warned the driver to draw up in time. Succour
was now at hand. Something ludicrous generally finds itself in company
with whatever is of a tragic nature. The guard of the Carlisle coach was
let down to the place where the lady was, by means of the reins taken
from the horses. _Hughie_ Campbell--that was the guard's name--when
deliberating upon the plan of rescue, had some delicacy as to how he
should affix the reins to the person of the lady, and called up to those
above, "Where will I grip her?" But before he could be otherwise
advised, the lady, long enough already on the rock, broke in, "Grip me
where you like, but grip me firm," which observation at once removed
Hughie's difficulty, and set his scruples at ease. The driver of the
wrecked coach, Alexander Cooper, was at first thought to have been
carried away; but he was afterwards found caught between two stones in
the river. He survived the accident only a few weeks--serious injuries
to his back proving fatal. As for the guard, Thomas Kinghorn, he was
severely cut about the head, but eventually recovered.
It was usual for the coachman and guard over this wild and exposed road
to be strapped to their seats in stormy weather; but on this occasion
Kinghorn, as it happened, was not strapped, and to this circumstance he
attributed his escape from death. When the mail went down, he was sent
flying over the bridge, and alighted clear from the wreck of the coach.
The dead passengers and the wounded persons were taken by the other
coach into Moffat.
It may be added that the fourth horse was got out of its predicament
little the worse for the fall, and continued to run for many a day over
the same road; but it was always observed to evince great nervousness
and excitement whenever it approached the scene of the accident.
Yet the mail-coach days had charms and attractions for travellers, if
they at the same time had their drawbacks: the bustle and excitement of
the start, when the horses were loosed and the driver let them have
rein, under the eyes of interested and admiring spectators; the
exhilarating gallop as a good pace was achieved on the open
country-road; the keen relish of the meals, more especially of
breakfast, at the neatly kept and hospitable inn; the blithe note of the
guard's horn, as a turnpike-gate or the end of a stage was approached;
and the hurried changing of horses from time to time as the journey
progressed. Ever-varying scene is the characteristic of the occasion:
the village with its rustic quiet, and odd characters, who were sure to
present themselves as the coach flew by; the fresh and blooming fields;
the soft and pastoral downs; the scented hedgerows in May and June; the
stretches of road embowered with wood, affording a grateful shade in
warm weather; the farmer's children swinging on a gate or over-topping a
fence, and cheering lustily with their small voices as the coach swept
along. And then, the hours of twilight being past, when
"Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars,"
the eeriness of a night-journey would be experienced. During hard frost
the clear ring of the horses' feet would be heard upon the road; the
discomfort of fellow-passengers rolling about in their places, overcome
by sleep, would be felt; while in the solemn dulness of the darker hours
of night the monotony of the situation would be relieved at intervals,
in the mineral districts, by miniature mountains of blazing coal,
shedding their lurid glare upon the coach as it passed, and showing up
the figures of soiled and dusky men employed thereat, thus creating a
horrible impression upon the passengers, and seeming to afford an
effective representation of Dante's shadowy world.
Or, on occasions of great national triumph--when, for example, some
important victory crowned our arms--the coach, decked out with ribbons
or green leaves, would be the bearer of the joyful and intoxicating news
down into the country,--the driver and guard, as the official
representatives of the Crown, being the heroes of the hour.
But it may be of interest to learn what a mail-coach journey was from
one who had just completed such a trip, and who, in the freshness of
youth, and with the unreserve which can only subsist in correspondence
between members of a family or dear friends, immediately commits his
impressions to writing. We have a vivid sketch of a journey of this kind
from no less a personage than Felix Mendelssohn, the great musical
composer. Mendelssohn was at the time a young man of twenty: he had been
making a tour in Scotland with his friend Klingemann--the visit being
that from which, by the way, Mendelssohn derived inspiration for the
composition of his delightful Scotch symphony; and the means by which he
quitted the northern kingdom was by mail-coach from Glasgow to
Liverpool. The following letter, descriptive of the journey, and dated
August 19, 1829, is copied from an interesting work called 'The
Mendelssohn Family':--
"We flew away from Glasgow on the top of the mail, ten miles an hour,
past steaming meadows and smoking chimneys, to the Cumberland lakes, to
Keswick, Kendal, and the prettiest towns and villages. The whole country
is like a drawing-room. The rocky walls are papered with bushes, moss,
and firs; the trees are carefully wrapped up in ivy; there are no walls
or fences, only high hedges, and you see them all the way up flat
hill-tops. On all sides carriages full of travellers fly along the
roads; the corn stands in sheaves; slopes, hills, precipices, are all
covered with thick, warm foliage. Then again our eyes dwelt on the
dark-blue English distance--many a noble castle, and so on, until we
reached Ambleside. There the sky turned gloomy again, and we had rain
and storm. Sitting on the top of the 'stage,' and madly careering along
ravines, past lakes, up-hill, down-hill, wrapped in cloaks, and
umbrellas up, we could see nothing but railings, heaps of stones or
ditches, and but rarely catch glimpses of hills and lakes. Sometimes
our umbrellas scraped against the roofs of the houses, and then, wet
through, we would come to a second-rate inn, with a high blazing fire,
and English conversation about walking, coals, supper, the weather, and
Bonaparte. Yesterday our seats on the coach were accidentally separated,
so that I hardly spoke to Klingemann, for changing horses was done in
about forty seconds. I sat on the box next by the coachman, who asked me
whether I flirted much, and made me talk a good deal, and taught me the
slang of horsemanship. Klingemann sat next to two old women, with whom
he shared his umbrella. Again manufactories, meadows, parks, provincial
towns, here a canal, there a railway, then the sea with ships, six full
coaches with towering outsiders following each other; in the evening a
thick fog, the stage running madly in the darkness. Through the fog we
see lamps gleaming all about the horizon; the smoke of manufactories
envelops us on all sides; gentlemen on horseback ride past; one
coach-horn blows in B flat, another in D, others follow in the distance,
and here we are at Liverpool."
Speed was of the first consideration, and the stoppages at the wayside
stages were of very limited duration. At an inn, the travellers would
hardly have made a fair start in appeasing their hunger, when the guard
would be heard calling upon them to take their seats, which, with mouths
full, and still hungry, they would be forced to do, though with a bad
grace and a growl--the acknowledged privilege of Englishmen. A story is
told of one passenger, however, who was equal to the occasion. Leisurely
sipping his tea and eating his toast, this traveller was found by the
landlord in the breakfast-room when the other passengers were seated and
the coach was on the point of starting. Boniface appealed to him to take
his place, or he would be left behind. "But," replied the traveller,
"_that_ I will not do till I have a spoon to sup my egg." A glance
apprised the landlord that not a spoon adorned the table, and rushing
out he detained the coach while all the passengers were searched for the
missing articles. Then out came the satisfied traveller, who also
submitted to be searched, and afterwards mounted the coach; and as the
mail drove off he called to the landlord to look inside the teapot,
where the artful traveller had placed the dozen spoons, with the double
object of cooling the tea for his second cup, and detaining the coach
till he drank it.
The illustration here inserted, from an old print, shows a passenger
securing refreshment on a cold night.
[Illustration: Nocturnal Refreshment.]
In the year 1836 the speed of some of the mail-coaches was nearly ten
miles an hour, including stoppages, and this was kept up over very long
distances. From Edinburgh to London, a distance of 400 miles, the time
allowed was forty-five and a half hours; in the opposite direction the
time was curtailed to forty-two and a half hours. From London to York,
197 miles, twenty hours were allowed; London to Manchester, 185 miles,
nineteen hours; London to Exeter, 176 miles, nineteen hours; London to
Holyhead, 259 miles, twenty-seven hours; London to Devonport, 216 miles,
twenty-one hours. But in the earlier days of the mail-coach, travelling
was much less rapid; for we find that in 1804 the mail-coach from Perth
to Edinburgh, a distance by way of Fife of 40 miles, took eight hours
for the journey, including stoppages and the transit by Ferry across the
Forth--that is, at the rate of five miles an hour. The mail-guards rode
about twelve hours at a stretch--quite long enough, in all conscience,
on a wet or frosty night.
But though in the earlier days of the mail-coaches the speed achieved by
them, even on the main lines, was probably not more than seven or eight
miles an hour, the people at head-quarters would seem to have regarded
this as a thing not to be trifled with; for in a Postmaster-General's
minute of 1791, directing that, owing to the frequent robberies, a
caution should be given to the public against sending bank notes
otherwise than in halves, the following bit of advice is added. The
minute directs that the notice shall contain "also a printed caution at
the foot of the Table, directing all persons to avoid, as far as may be,
sending any cash by the post, _partly from the prejudice it does the
coin by the friction it occasions from the great expedition with which
it is conveyed_, and especially as the cash is so liable to fall out of
the letter by jolting, and to be found at the bottom of the bag," &c. It
would be a species of high treason to treat with levity any kind of
expression or decision proceeding from a reigning Postmaster-General,
but at this safe distance of time we may venture to smile at the idea
here propounded, that coins would seriously suffer by _sweating_ in a
mail-bag conveyed by coach at the surprising rate of eight miles an
hour. Such ill-founded apprehensions of the mail-coach speed were not,
however, confined to post officials, for Lord Campbell was frequently
warned against the danger of travelling in this way, and instances were
cited to him in which passengers died from apoplexy induced by the
rapidity with which these vehicles travelled!
An incident of a romantic nature happened about the year 1780 in
connection with the stage-coach (not a mail-coach, however, be it noted)
running between Edinburgh and Glasgow at that period. The stage-coach,
drawn by four horses, had been on the road for many years, having been
established about the year 1758. The time occupied in the journey was
twelve hours; nor, down to the period in question, had any acceleration
taken place. A young lady of Glasgow, of distinguished beauty, having to
travel to Edinburgh, a lover whose suit towards her had not hitherto
proved successful, took the remaining tickets for the journey, and so
became her sole companion on the way. By assiduous attentions, and all
the winsome ways which the tender passion knows to suggest, as well as
by earnestness of pursuit, the lover won the lady to his favour, and she
soon thereafter became his wife. But the full day did not justify the
brightness of the morning: the husband failed to prove himself worthy of
his good fortune; "and the lady, in a state worse than widowhood, was, a
few years after, the subject of the celebrated Clarinda correspondence
of Burns."
In addition to the obvious duties of the mail-guards--to protect the
mails and carry out their exchange at the several stations--they were
sometimes required to perform special duties unconnected with
Post-office work. They were, for example, called upon to keep watch in
the early part of the present century upon French prisoners of war who
might be breaking their parole, a likely way of escaping being by the
mail-coaches. The guards were instructed to question any suspicious
foreigner travelling by the coach, and to report the matter to the
postmaster at the first town at which they arrived. This was doubtless
looked upon as a pleasure rather than as a hardship; for they were
reminded that the usual reward was ten guineas each--not a bad price for
a Frenchman under the circumstances.
No record of the mail-coach days would be complete without a description
of the annual procession of mail-coaches which used to be held in the
metropolis on the monarch's birthday. As every corporation or society
has its saint's day, or yearly festival, so the Jehus of the Post-office
were not without theirs; an occasion on which they showed themselves to
advantage, and drew admiring crowds to behold them. The following
account of one of these displays is from the 'Annals of the Road,' a
work of great interest on subjects connected with coaching generally;
and as the description is given with spirit and apparent truthfulness,
we cannot do better than give it at length, and in this way bring the
present chapter to a close:--
"The great day of the year was the King's birthday, when a goodly
procession of four-in-hands started from the great coach manufactory of
Mr John Vidler, in the neighbourhood of Millbank, and wended its way to
St Martin's-le-Grand. Splendid in fresh paint and varnish, gold
lettering and Royal arms, they were the perfection of neatness and
practical utility in build, horsed to perfection, and _leathered_ to
match. They were driven by coachmen who, as well as the guards behind,
were arrayed in spick-and-span new scarlet and gold. No delicate
bouquets, but mighty nosegays of the size of a cabbage, adorned the
breasts of these portly mail coachmen and guards, while bunches of
cabbage-roses decorated the heads of the proud steeds. In the cramped
interior of the vehicles were closely packed buxom dames and blooming
lassies, the wives, daughters, or sweethearts of the coachmen or guards,
the fair passengers arrayed in coal-scuttle bonnets and in
canary-coloured or scarlet silks. On this great occasion the guard was
allowed two seats and the coachman two, no one allowed on the roof. But
the great feature, after all, was that stirring note, so clearly blown
and well drawn out, and every now and again sounded by the guards, and
alternated with such airs as 'The Days when we went Gipsying,' capitally
played on a key-bugle. Should a mail come late, the tune from a passing
one would be, 'Oh, dear! what can the matter be?' This key-bugle was no
part of the mail equipment, but was nevertheless frequently used.
"Heading the procession was the oldest-established mail, which would be
the Bristol. On the King's birthday, 1834, there were 27 coaches in the
procession. They all wore hammer-cloths, and both guard and coachman
were in red liveries, the latter being furnished by the mail contractor.
They wore beaver hats with gold lace and cockades. Such a thing as a low
billycock hat was not to be seen on any coach anywhere. Sherman's mails
were drawn by black horses, and on these occasions their harness was of
red morocco.
[Illustration: St Martin's-le-Grand in the Coaching Days.]
"The coaches were new each year. In these days brass mountings were
rarely known; plated or silver only were in use. On the starting of the
procession, the bells of the neighbouring churches rang out merrily,
continuing their rejoicing peals till it arrived at the General
Post-office. Many country squires, who were always anxious that their
best horses should have a few turns in the mail-coaches in travelling,
sent up their horses to figure in the procession.
"From Millbank the procession passed by St James's Palace, at the
windows of which, above the porch, stood King William and his Queen. The
Duke of Richmond (then Postmaster-General) and the Duke of Wellington
stood there also. Each coach as it passed saluted the King, the coachman
and guard standing up and taking off their hats. The appearance of the
smart coaches, emblazoned with the Royal arms, orders, &c., coachman and
guard got up to every advantage, with their nosegays stuck in their
brand-new scarlet liveries, was at this point strikingly grand. The
inspectors of mail-coaches rode in front of the procession on
horseback."