CHAPTER XIV.

COACHMEN: WHERE DID THEY COME FROM?

Coachmen, as they used to be, are now nearly, or quite, lost to sight, and it is difficult to describe them. Most of the descriptions given of them have been, more or less, caricatures; still, from the time of Tony Weller, they have been a rather peculiar people, although that character, as depicted by Dickens, was more in keeping with a previous generation, and even highly coloured for that, and as unlike what they were in the palmy days of coaching as were two men I saw at Hatchetts a summer or two ago, dressed in such great-coats as were never seen down any road, and with such hats upon their heads as, I should think, never made their appearance anywhere, unless it was on the stage. They were a sort of Gog and Magog of the road.

The coachman of the fastest and best days, which really lasted for a comparatively small number of years, was better educated, and was rarely slangy in his dress, which was well suited to his avocation, and, except in winter, would not generally attract attention. At that season, however, he did require to be well protected against weather, for he had to face all sorts, and that for nearly a whole day or night at a time. On one journey the rain might fall incessantly, on another our changeable climate would produce clear weather accompanied by intense frost, whilst on the following day there might be a driving snow, the wind blowing the flakes into the eyes till it was almost impossible to see the road.

Now all these alternations of weather had to be taken into account, and, I believe, the art of resisting them had well-nigh reached perfection; therefore, with the dread before my eyes of wearying some of my readers, I am tempted to enter with some minuteness into the subject, as, judging from the garments now usually worn, the art is lost in the present day. It was a well established fact that two moderately thick coats gave more warmth and kept out wet better than one which was very thick, and besides which, a very thick coat becomes insufferably heavy after being out many hours in the rain.

Indeed, a great change had taken place in the dress of coachmen. As the pace increased, and better bred horses were employed, and greater activity was required in the coachmen, the cumbersome old great-coat, with innumerable capes, had to make room for garments which interfered less with the movements of the wearer. I need hardly say to those who have had much experience, that there is no hope of keeping dry and warm if the neck is not secured by an ample upper neckcloth; for, tying up this part of the body not only excludes the wet and cold, but also has the effect of keeping in the natural heat of the body. Nothing chills worse than a cold draught passing up the sleeves and coming out at the neck, and to prevent this what were called coachman's cuffs were employed. These consisted of a piece of cloth about six inches in length, which buttoned over the sleeve of the ordinary coat, and when over these were added, first, a strong cloth coat, and over that a waterproof cape with sleeves, and ample enough to spread well over the apron, no wet and little cold could penetrate. Protected in this way, and with a relay of dry woollen gloves and whips, a not unpleasant day might be spent on the coach box even when the elements were unpropitious.

When a man is cased in all these clothes, he can hardly help being a little stiff in his movements, and this imparted a peculiar gait which betrayed the occupation. The left hand also generally acted as a tell tale, as the rounded position in which the wrist was necessarily held during many hours of the day could not be altogether thrown off at other times. It was not uncommon for guards in the fast day coaches to wear red coats, not the post-office guard's livery, as I have seen at Hatchett's, but an ordinary hunting coat.

As roads improved pace increased, and fast day coaches gradually appeared, notably the three "Tallyhoes" between Birmingham and London, distinguished from one another by the words "Eclipse," "Patent," and "Independent;" also the "York House," Bath, and the "Berkely Hunt," Cheltenham.

It was not, however, till about the year 1825 that the "Wonder" commenced running between Shrewsbury and London, a distance of one hundred and fifty-four miles, and it ceased running the whole journey through in the year 1840 or 1841. And this having been the first coach which attempted to cover so long a journey in one day, it marks with sufficient accuracy the time during which coaching was at its zenith. Of course, there were many fast and good coaches running after this date; but subsequent to the year 1842, most of the roads, taking their start from the Metropolis, were, more or less, pressed upon by railways, and the coaches were either taken off altogether, or else the distance run was curtailed. We may therefore put down about twenty-five years as the period during which the coaches covered the roads, though many equally good ones continued to run in Scotland, Wales, and other remote places for many years later.

During this quarter of a century the fun was fast, not to say furious, and with such rapidity did coaches increase and multiply, that it is a wonder how the demand for coachmen was satisfied, for to become one fit to be entrusted with a fast coach, and one which loaded heavily, necessitates no little practice.

From whence then was this demand supplied? Principally, I believe, like that in other trades, on the hereditary principle. It was no uncommon thing for old coachmen to have several sons at work; but, as the box of a good day coach was a lucrative post, a considerable number of men were gradually attracted to it from superior positions in life. The value of a "drive" differed very much, according to the loading of the coach, distance driven, whether single or double journey, or whether the passengers were what was called "_good cloth_," or the contrary; but one which did not bring in twenty shillings a day was not thought much of, and some were worth double.

This may appear a large remuneration to be received for a day's work, seldom occupying more than nine or ten hours; but I know it is not overstated, as I have not only been told it by others, but have myself fingered forty-five shillings in one day. Perhaps, however, I should add that I was then driving as much as ninety-three miles a day, and had no guard.

There were also other sources from which money was made, and from which coachmen driving slow coaches were enabled to make amends for the inferior quality of their passengers; and, indeed, in quite old days, the best wheel of the coach was often his. The late Mr. Jobson, who for many years kept the "Talbot Hotel" in Shrewsbury, and horsed the "Nimrod," which ran opposition to the "Wonder," had previously driven the "Prince of Wales" coach between that town and Birmingham, during which time he had the opportunity of buying up the guineas, when they were called in by the Mint, at a trifle under their standard value, and being able to dispose of them at their full price he realised a handsome profit.

Again, fish was not an unusual article to be made the subject of trading, and I once was tempted to embark in this business myself, but, as the sequel will show, not with satisfactory results. When I was driving the "Snowdonian," I was frequently asked by friends and acquaintances on the road to bring some fish from Caernarvon, as the towns through which I passed were badly supplied with it. Accordingly, one morning, hearing that a good catch of fish had been brought in, I invested, before starting, in forty pounds of very nice small salmon at sixpence a pound, with the expectation of obliging friends, and at the same time making some profit for my trouble. However, I was soon undeceived. As I went from place to place I announced with a feeling of much complacency that I had got the long-wanted article, but in most cases the answer was that they did not want salmon--any other fish would have been acceptable. Consequently, when I arrived at the end of my journey, I found that more than half was left in hand. Pickled salmon was the standard dish on my table for a fortnight. It was my first and last appearance in the character of a fishmonger. I tried no other sort of fish, as I thought they were too dainty if they could not eat salmon. But perhaps I have digressed too far, and will return to where coachmen sprang from in the required numbers.

I once sat by the side of a Captain Douglas, who had seen service in the Peninsular war, and was then driving the Birmingham and Sheffield mail out of the former town, and a quiet, nice coachman he was. He had a long stage of sixteen miles to Lichfield, and brought his team in fresh at the end of it.

From the officer coachman I come to the private. He was named Marsh, and had served at Waterloo with the 14th Regiment, and after leaving the army, had driven a coach between Maidstone and London for many years. When I first became acquainted with him, he had, like a good many others, followed the receding tide to the west, and was driving one side of the Aberystwith and Shrewsbury mail, between the former place and Newtown, during which time I occasionally worked for him; but, like an old soldier, he was always, if possible, ready for duty. It is curious enough that I first came across him on a Waterloo day, when he modestly remarked, upon the subject being alluded to, "I happened to be there." I had lost sight of him for some years, till I observed a notice of him in the _World_ newspaper of July 11th, 1888. It occurred in a short account of Lord Albemarle, and mentioned the interest he took in "the old soldier Matty Marsh, private 14th Foot, who was wounded at Waterloo, witnessed the funerals of Wellington and Napoleon, drove a coach from Maidstone for many years, and recently died at the advanced age of ninety-four years." I never heard him allude to either of the funerals, and don't very well see how he could have been at that of Napoleon's; but so far as I know, he may have attended both.

A few postboys were elevated to the "bench," notably little Dick Vickers, of the Holyhead mail; but few of them were equal to the task, and, indeed, some of them could not even handle four-horse reins sufficiently well for black work, and consequently the night coachmen were occasionally pressed into this service, much to their dislike, and this once led to a rather droll scene. A gentleman, who had taken to professional coach driving, found himself one day let in for the job of driving a hearse, and, of course, was obliged to get himself up for the occasion something like a mute, when catching sight of himself in a glass, he was so much struck with his personal appearance, that he remarked, "Well, if only some of my family could see me now, I wonder what they _would_ say?"

Indeed, it is difficult to determine from what ranks and professions the large body of coachmen required in those days was not recruited. I suppose few would have looked among the list of publishers for one, but, nevertheless, one, at any rate, from that business was drawn into the service of the road, not having been successful in the former trade. A letter from an old friend of mine, also a coachman, will, I think, interest or amuse some readers, and will show that he possessed a considerable amount of grim humour, as well as some acuteness in business.

"Many years ago," says my friend, "I took up my residence for a short time at the 'Kentish Hotel' in Tunbridge Wells--the best hotel there, and at that time there were very few houses built upon the Common. After stopping there some time, the season ended, and the exodus of visitors had commenced, I took the box seat on Stockdale's coach. I must tell you he had been a large publisher in Piccadilly, but failed, and then took to the road, this being the first coach he had driven, and being part proprietor. He was an exceedingly good amateur whip, but still, not a first-rate artist, as he would try to make you believe.

"A short time before we started, a lady with her maid, who had been stopping in the hotel, sent her luggage to be placed on the coach, and upon Stockdale seeing it, he said to the porter, 'How many passengers, Tom?' 'Two, sir,' says Tom. 'Scale it, Tom,' says he, which he immediately did. When twelve shillings was demanded for extra luggage, the lady said, 'I never paid it before, and have taken two inside places.' 'You see, _ma'ame_,' says he, 'I horse this coach over Maramscote hill, and I cannot carry your luggage for nothing; you will bring the kitchen range next time if you have nothing to pay.'

"Having seated myself very comfortably on the box seat, our friend Stockdale and myself lit our cigars, going at a fair pace till we were descending Maramscote hill, the skid-pan being on the wheel. The wheel horses did not step well together, and we rocked very considerably, which led me to observe he had better be careful, or he would put the passengers down to count them. Upon this he turned round to me, looking daggers, and asked me to look what was painted on the board at the side of the hill, and looking, I read, '_Dry rubbish may be thrown here_.' You may be sure I did not offer any more advice for the remainder of the stage; but our _contretemps_ soon cooled down, and when we were changing horses, 'I say, governor!' says he, 'forget the dry rubbish, and come in and take a little cold brandy and water. It's the only place I ever go into on the road, for it's the only place where you can escape being poisoned.' After our refreshment we went at a very jolly pace, having Robert Nelson's horses, which were first-rate, and soon arrived at the Belle Sauvage, Ludgate Hill, where we found a great bustle of coaches, and luggage just come by other coaches, arriving from different parts of the country, and porters were calling out, 'Any passengers for Leeds "Courier," "Hope," "Halifax,"'" etc., etc.

It was not only necessary that a coachman should be able to drive well, which required time and practice to acquire, but, what was of nearly equal importance, he had to learn how to get his coach quick through the country. Indeed, his was a position of no small responsibility, for he had the lives and limbs of the passengers in his hands, and as, when was sometimes the case with a strong opposition, his orders were simply "_be first_" his was no very enviable situation. When he could do all this with the minimum of wear and tear of the stock, he was a very valuable man to his employers.

As a rule, I think they were fairly careful of the stock, though certainly on slow coaches, when a little time lost could be recovered without much difficulty, the horses by no means always reaped the full benefit of the time allowed them. This, however, it must with justice be admitted, was not altogether the fault of the coachmen. The proprietors were too prone to encourage delay for the custom it brought to the "bar," and if a coachman was heard to decline the offer of a glass of sherry or brandy and water from his box passenger, he might expect black looks.

Of course, with the fastest coaches, such delays were impossible, neither could the coachman find time to pull up and patronize the house of a friend, as was frequently done by his brethren on the slower drags.

I have heard of the late Mr. Isaac Taylor, of Shrewsbury, when he wanted to select from among his coachmen one fitted for a fast coach, adopting the following plan: One of his coaches was driven by a man who he knew to be coachman enough for the job, but he was not so sure about his power of getting through the country. He, therefore, one day, quietly seated himself inside this man's coach, and after a time his doubts were confirmed, for on pulling up at a roadside inn, the landlady, without observing him, said to the coachman, "Mr. So-and-So, how will you have your eggs done to-day? Shall they be poached or boiled?" I need hardly add, he remained on the slow coach.

A smart coachman usually took his place in changing horses, and it is quite possible, as I know from experience, having been timed by a box passenger, to effect the change in one minute and a half, with only one horse-keeper, assisted by coachman and guard; but to do this, each one must know his own place; they must not be tumbling over one another. The best drill I ever knew for this purpose was as follows: As the coach gradually stopped, the guard got down, and ran forward to unhook the near leader's outside trace, and then drew the near lead rein through the territs, after which he changed the near wheel horse, and finished by running the near lead rein. The horse-keeper, on the off-side, unhooked the remaining lead traces, uncoupled the wheel horses, and changed the off-side one. The coachman, getting down from his box as fast as he could, finished changing the leaders. The horses had, of course, previous to the arrival of the coach, been properly placed; one wheeler on each side of the road, and the leaders coupled.

This, of course, could only be carried out when the team was pretty quiet to "put to," for with queer tempered ones, all sorts of dodges had to be resorted to, attended sometimes with considerable loss of time.

Occasionally, it would be necessary to run a leader's rein the first thing, and then the coachman had to bustle up to his box as quick as he could, trusting to the horse-keeper and guard to get the traces hooked as best they might. Again, some wheelers could not bear to be poled up till after the coach was started. Horse-keepers were often exceedingly smart at this sort of work, though they varied a good deal, so much so, that it was no uncommon thing for "queer ones" to start better from one end of the stage than the other.

These said horse-keepers were a rough lot, and no great wonder, for they had rough work to do. They were frequently expected to attend to eight horses, four out and four in, every day, or to take charge of six, with eight out and eight in, during the course of the day. But, what was worse than the work, they constantly had vicious horses to attend to, and such as it was dangerous to approach in the stall. To meet this difficulty, I have known a long cord used, with one end fastened to the head collar, and the other made fast to the stall-post, by which the horse could be pulled back far enough to enable the horse-keeper to keep clear of his heels whilst entering the stall. I was once travelling at night, when, upon arriving at the end of a stage, the coachman said to the horsekeeper, "Mind what you are about with that horse," pointing to a fresh one, "he bit a piece out of a man just before starting." It struck me as not a very enviable position to be left, in the middle of a dark night, to look single-handed after four dirty horses, and one of them a "savage."

But to return to changing horses, for it was an item of the very greatest importance in fast work. It was necessary at times to use a twitch with kickers, or to strap up one foreleg, though I have known this latter insufficient to keep the hind feet on the ground, and was once compelled to "Rarey" a mare before she would suffer herself to be put to the coach. She was, from some cause or another, the worst tempered horse I ever met with. When I first knew her, she was the property of a gentleman residing at Dolgelly, but her temper was so violent and untractable, that she had got the better of one or two breakers, and the ostler at the "Wynnstay Arms" at Machynlleth, having undertaken to conquer her, she had been taken there for that purpose.

It happened that I had promised to drive, a day or two afterwards, for another coachman, who wanted a rest, and as his coach did not start till after I had arrived with the "Harkaway" from Barmouth, and was back again in time for my return coach, I was able to oblige him, little thinking what I had undertaken.

On looking over the team before mounting my box, what should I espy but this very animal at off-lead. "Oh," says I, "then this is the way you are going to be broken? Well, we shall see how we can agree." And taking up the reins, I mounted the box. Cautioning the horse-keeper not to touch her, but to keep alongside the other leader through the archway out of the inn yard, and to be sure and make him carry his bar well, we started, the hitherto unmanageable mare giving very little trouble, and, after a few more journeys in the coach, she was considered to have finished her education, and returned home.

I suppose, however, that she was not much to the taste of her owner, as she was very soon purchased, for a small sum, by my partner, Mr. E. Jones, of the "Ship Hotel," Dolgelly, and put to run in the "Harkaway." I drove her for many months, and considered that she was quite subdued, though it was always necessary to strap up a foreleg when putting her to the coach, and she was always nasty in the stable. All of a sudden, however, as spring came on, she returned to her old tricks, and thought so little of having a leg strapped up, that she kicked her bar over the top of the coach, and was so violent that it was impossible to "put her to." I determined, therefore, to "Rarey" her, so, getting a long rope, and fastening it to the foreleg which was not strapped, and passing it over her withers, I gradually pulled her down, and, after the most approved "Rarey" fashion, sat upon her. After a few minutes, I allowed her to get up, but she seemed still to be very light behind, so I put her into her place at near-lead, all the while keeping a strain upon the rope, and so kept her peaceable whilst the traces were hooked, the rein run, etc. Then, handing over the rope to the guard, I got into my place, when it became, "Let 'em go, and take care of yourselves." The brute went right enough for about a couple of hundred yards, when all of a sudden, she ran her head into the near-side hedge, and set to kicking in earnest; but as this movement exposed her flank, I was soon able to make it too hot for her, and she finished the stage to Dolgelly quietly. I drove her again the next day, but she continued so violent that, as we carried a great many ladies and children at that time of year, she was taken away for fear of alarming them, especially as some parts of the road were not of the safest.