CHAPTER XII.

EARLY DAYS.

Though it is rather a singular coincidence that my earliest experiences should be laid in the same neighbourhood as has been more than once mentioned by the late Mr. Birch Reynardson in "Down the Road," if the incidents are different, I suppose it will not signify much if the road is the same.

I have no recollection that we ever did actually drive opposition to one another, but it is not impossible that we may have done so, as I was in the habit of driving the "Royal Oak," which he mentions as running opposition to the "Nettle," on which coach he frequently handled the ribbons. However this may be, I can recollect well that he bore the character of a good, powerful coachman, and I only hope I may be able to approach him at all in my powers of description.

His spirited narratives carry one's thoughts back to scenes of a kindred nature, after a lapse of half a century, nearly as fresh as if it were only yesterday. For, reader, I am another old coachman, having driven one coach ninety-three miles a-day during one summer, and have worked another about fifteen thousand miles a-year for three years, besides others for myself, or for other coachmen.

I well recollect the "yard of tin"; indeed, when a youth, I possessed one, and flattered myself I could blow it pretty well. Such, indeed, was my passion for the road, that I was not satisfied till I could perform every feat performed by coachmen or guards. To pass from the back of the coach to the front, or _vice versa_, was sometimes accomplished by guards, and, of course, I must do the same, creeping between the hind wheel and the body, whilst the coach was proceeding at the rate of ten miles an hour. This was not a very easy performance, but to get up and down whilst the coach was in motion was not at all difficult, and doing this once led to my being mistaken for a professional guard.

I was travelling through North Wales, from Oswestry to Bangor, by a pair-horse coach, which, of course, did not aspire to much pace, and, as the day was wet, the road was heavy, which brought the two-horse power to a walk up some of the hills, slight as Mr. Telford's engineering skill had made them. Upon these occasions I got down to walk, and as my pace was faster than that of the horses, I was part way down the next hill before they overtook me, when, motioning to the coachman not to pull up, I returned to my seat by his side, and after having done this once or twice he said, "I beg your pardon, sir, but were you ever a guard on any coach?"

It is somewhat strange that Mr. Reynardson and I should both have good reason for remembering the Llanymynech toll-bar, but its existence was nearly being impressed on my mind by a far more serious accident than killing poor piggy.

Many years ago, about the year 1836, before I had the honour of wearing His Majesty's uniform, I used to indulge my love of driving by starting from my father's house, about three miles from Welshpool, about five o'clock in the morning, and walking to that town for the pleasure of driving the "Royal Oak" coach, which started at six, and returning the same day by the down coach. Thereby getting a drive of about eighty miles, and the pace was fast, especially if the "Nettle" was supposed to be near, for we knew by experience that it followed very quickly; so there was pretty well enough of practice to be had.

On one of these mornings, when we were about two miles on our journey, Harry Booth, the coachman, who was sitting by my side, whistled to the horses, which started them off beyond my powers of holding them. I said, "For goodness' sake be quiet," when he coolly replied, "I thought you wanted to drive." Fortunately, however, they came back to me after going a short distance, and we completed the nine miles to Llanymynech in thirty-five minutes from the start.

This was, perhaps, a rather rough way of learning to drive, and something like throwing a fellow into deep water to teach him to swim. At any rate, it taught me to gallop, and a coachman who could not do that was of little use on a good many coaches in those days.

This, however, is a digression, as it was on the return journey of that day that I nearly came to grief at the Llanymynech toll-bar. It occurred in this way--

The "Royal Oak" did not carry a guard, and Tom Loader, the coachman, having resigned his seat to me when the coaches met, had retired to the one usually occupied by that functionary. As, however, he was not accustomed to guard's work, he was deficient in the activity necessary for slipping the skid pan under the wheel whilst the coach was in motion, and when he tried to do so at the top of Llanymynech hill he failed in the attempt. Consequently, we got over the brow of the hill without the wheel being locked, and, as there were no patent breaks in those days, there was nothing for it but a gallop, as the wheel horses were unable to hold the big load of passengers and luggage, and, of course, the lurches of the coach became considerable, to say the least of it. The turnpike gate, which was at the bottom of the hill, was rather a narrow one, and a collision seemed not altogether improbable, when, just as the leaders reached the gate, the passenger sitting on the roof seat behind me became so much alarmed that he seized hold of my right arm, thereby rendering any use of the whip impossible if it had been necessary, which, fortunately, it was not, as the coach was then in a safe direction, though rather too near the off-side gate-post to be pleasant. If the whip had been wanted to make the off-wheel horse pull us clear of the post I was helpless, and a collision would have been attended with an awful smash, as we were going at the rate of a mile in five minutes at the time. Killing the pig would have been nothing to it.

Whilst on the subject of toll gates I am reminded that I did on one occasion break one all to pieces, and, though chronologically out of place here, I am tempted to introduce it.

It occurred many years subsequently to the affair at Llanymynech, when I was residing at Aberystwith, and, as often happened whilst there, I was working the Shrewsbury and Aberystwith mail between the latter place and Newtown for one of the regular coachmen, who wanted a few days' rest. One morning on the down journey, on our reaching the toll gate at Caersws, the gatekeeper threw it open to allow the mail to pass, but, as he did not throw it sufficiently far back to hold in the catch, the high wind blew it back again, causing it to come in contact with the stock of the near fore wheel. Of course, it was too late to pull up, but, fortunately, the gate was old and very rotten, and doubled up with the collision. It was broken all to pieces, but, with the exception of a few slight cuts on the horses from splinters of wood, no injury was sustained. The toll-bar man was disposed to give some trouble, but little Rhodes, the post-office guard (for it was one of the last mails that carried them), shut him up with the remark that the penalty for delaying the mails was fifty pounds.

Before taking leave of the subject of racing, such as was carried on by the "Royal Oak" and "Nettle" coaches, I am induced to make a few remarks about it. Perhaps, some one on reading what I have said, may be disposed to exclaim, "how dangerous it must have been!" and, indeed, Mr. Reynardson says in "Down the Road," speaking of these coaches, "they were often too fast to be quite safe, as I sometimes used to fancy." To this, the result of his practical experience, I will not demur, suffice it to say that, though I have known a coachman of the "Royal Oak" fined for furious driving, I never knew a case of one scattering his passengers. Of course, it was not altogether unaccompanied by danger, but, judging by results, it could not have been very serious, as the accidents which occurred from it were not greater than were produced by other causes. Indeed, there are some reasons why they may have been less. When coaches were running strong opposition, everything, horses, coaches, and harness, were all of the very best, and none but real "artists" could be placed upon the box. (I think I hear a whisper that sometimes boys got there.) They were, therefore, secure from any accident caused, as was sometimes the case, by carelessness and penuriousness, which, to my own knowledge, have been productive of some very serious ones, as I shall show.

About twenty-five years ago, during one summer, two accidents occurred on the road between Dolgelly and Caernarvon, which might easily have been prevented--one of which was accompanied by serious loss of life, and which was to be attributed entirely to the use of old worn-out coaches and harness, or inferior coachmen and horses, such as, if the pace had been greater, no one would have ventured to employ. To the other accident there was a rather comic side, though not, perhaps, exactly to the sufferer. The coach was upset a few miles from Barmouth, on the road to Harlech, and the coachman's shoulder was dislocated; whereupon, a medical practitioner, who was passing at the time, mistaking the injury for a fracture, splintered it up. This treatment, of course, did not tend to mend matters, and the shoulder continued so painful that upon arriving at Caernarvon another surgeon was called in, who perceived the real nature of the injury, and reduced the dislocation.

Then, again, as a fact, there was not so often, as may be supposed, a neck-and-neck race with two coaches galloping alongside of each other. Such things did occur at times, when the road was wide enough to admit of it; but much oftener the coachmen did not try to give one another the "_go-bye_," except when the leading one was called upon to stop to pick up or put down a passenger, or for any other purpose. It was understood that on those occasions, if the opposition was close behind, the one which stopped should pull to his own side of the road, leaving space to pass. Then the other one, getting in front, would "_spring 'em_" to try, if possible, to complete his next change of horses and be off again without being passed.

No coachman, who knew his business, or was not utterly reckless, would think of racing down hill, though occasionally, no doubt, they did take liberties at the top of a hill and come to grief. There could, however, be no danger in trying to pass when ascending a hill, and then was the opportunity for the coachman with the lightest load or strongest team to challenge his opponent. Of course, the leading one would not give his rival the road if he could help it, and I have had my near-side leader's bar rattling against his off-side hind wheel before he would give me room to pass; but there was no danger involved in that, as, being on the ascent, I could have pulled up at any moment.

As to there being any danger in merely galloping a coach, I am sure there is not, even at a high speed, provided the wheel horses are well matched in stride, the team well put together, and kept well in hand, and when there is sufficient draught to keep the leaders' traces tight. This will be apparent from the fact that, however much a coach may have been lurching previously, as soon as the leaders commence drawing, she becomes perfectly steady. Of course with the pole chains too slack there would be danger.

Then, again, the build of the coach has a good deal to do with it. For very fast work, coaches were generally kept what was called near the ground. Those which were built by Shackleford, of Cheltenham, for the "Hirondelle," which raced with the "Hibernia," between that town and Liverpool, at a pace as great if not greater than any coaches in England, were contracted to be made so that the roof should not exceed a certain height from the ground. I forget now what the exact measurement was, but it was some inches less than the general build, and to enable this to be done the perch was slightly bent.

The "Hibernia" coaches also, which were supplied by Williams, of Bristol, were admirably adapted for the work they had to perform, being low and remarkably steady, but heavier than those of their opponent. Indeed, Williams's coaches were not favourites with coachmen on account of their weight, but as they were generally contracted for by the mile, those were most profitable to the contractor that required the least repairs. I have heard of a coachman complaining to Mr. Williams about the weight of his coaches, to which the laconic answer was a five-shilling piece, and "Don't you bother about that."

These two coaches always made the first of May a day for more than ordinary racing, and performed the journey on those occasions at a very accelerated pace. I am afraid, at this distance of time, to say exactly by how much the time was shortened, but certainly by two or three hours, and as the ordinary time was twelve hours and a half to cover the distance of one hundred and thirty-three miles, the pace must have been very severe.

On one of these annual festivals there was a lady travelling inside the "Hirondelle," and one of the proprietors, thinking she might be alarmed at the terrific pace the coach was going at, offered to "post her" the remainder of the journey without extra charge. She, however, was quite equal to the occasion, and replied that she was much obliged by the offer, but that she liked going fast. This showed well, not only for her nerve, but also that the driving was good, and that the coachmen "made their play" judiciously.