CHAPTER III.

ACCIDENTS.

I have sometimes been asked, when I was driving coaches, whether I had ever had an accident, to which I was able to reply for a good many years, that, though I had been very near several, I had been fortunate enough to steer clear of them. I had experienced different things which might easily have ended in an accident, such as a leader's rein breaking, the bit falling out of a wheel horse's mouth, a fore wheel coming off, and similar things, but had always managed to pull up without coming to grief. The case of the wheel might have been attended with very serious consequences if we had been going fast at the time, but fortunately it occurred just when I had pulled up to go slowly round a corner.

At last, however, it did come, and I think I may say "with a vengeance," though it was not accompanied with any loss of life or limb, or indeed any very serious consequences. It occurred when I was working the Aberystwith and Caernarvon "Snowdonian." A pole chain broke when descending a rather steep fall of ground, which caused the coach to approach the off-side of the road, and, as the lamps threw their light very high, I did not see a large stone, commonly called in the parlance of the road, "a waggoner," until it was close under the roller bolt, and immediately afterwards the fore wheel struck it with such violence that the concussion threw the box passenger and myself off the box. He was thrown clear of the coach, whilst I was pitched over the wheelers' heads, but, alighting upon the leaders' backs, was quietly let down to the ground between them. This, mercifully, laid me what the sailors call "fore and aft," and consequently the coach was able to pass over without touching me, and beyond a broken arm, I was little the worse. The horses galloped on for a few hundred yards, and then ran the off-side wheels up the hedgebank, upsetting the coach into the road.

This was somewhat of a lesson to me, for perhaps I had got the horses into the habit of going rather too fast down the falls of ground, of which there were several in the stage, but if I had not made play there, it would have been impossible to keep time. We were horsed by one of the hotel proprietors in Caernarvon, and it was certainly the worst team I ever drove. Underbred to start with, and, though our pace was not fast, yet from age and other infirmities too slow for it even such as it was.

Nevertheless, time was bound to be kept somehow, as we not unfrequently carried passengers who wanted to proceed from Caernarvon by the up mail train, and there was not much time to spare.

There was one thing I never would do, and that was to call upon good horses, the property of one proprietor, to fetch up time lost by the bad ones belonging to another.

I have previously alluded to being near accidents in consequence of a broken rein, and when I was driving the Aberystwith and Kington "Cambrian" I had a very near shave indeed from that cause. We had just commenced the descent of Radnor forest on the up journey, and I had begun to "shove 'em along a bit," when the near lead rein broke, and, consequently, the leaders got, to use a nautical phrase, athwart the wheelers. Of course, I tightened the brake at once, and was able to bring the coach to a standstill before any harm was done, as the pole held, and the horses were quiet, but another yard or two more and the coach must have gone over, as the leaders were already jammed in between the wheelers and a high hedgebank, with their heads turned the wrong way.

Perhaps some reader may say, "What a shame it was to use such reins, they ought not to be able to break;" and of course they ought not, but horsekeepers were not the most reliable of men, and no coachman could possibly find time to examine the harness at every stage. If leading reins could be cut out of one length of leather, there would be very few or no breakages, but as they are obliged to be made of several lengths sewn together, they are liable to break, as they get old, from the stitches becoming rotten. Nevertheless such things ought not to happen, but as I knew they would, I always carried about me two short straps the same width as the reins, one about two inches long, with a buckle at both ends, and the other with a buckle at one end and a billet at the other, so that a breakage would be easily repaired at whatever part it might occur.

I have twice had three out of the four horses in a heap, from a leader coming down and the two wheelers falling over him; but in such a case as this there is very little danger if the coachman has the presence of mind not to leave his box till there is sufficient strength at the horses' heads to prevent them jumping up and starting off frightened.

These, and a few others which have come to the front in connection with other subjects, are all the accidents and close shaves which I have experienced as a coachman; and when I call to mind the many thousand miles I have driven, over some very indifferent roads, with heavy loads, at all hours, in all weathers, and with all sorts of "_cattle_," I think I may consider myself fortunate. But then I was insured in the "Railway Passengers' Insurance Company," and recommend all other coachmen to do the same.

So much for my own experiences. Now for a few which have been gone through by others.

All those which have resulted from climatic influences will be introduced in connection with their respective causes, but I will venture to present to the reader others which, from one cause or another, possess more or less a character of their own, and are distinguished either by extraordinary escapes, great recklessness, or some other remarkable feature. The first I shall notice is distinguished by the singularity of the escapes, and I cannot convey the circumstances connected with it better than by giving the report of the inspector upon the accident which occurred to the Gloucester and Caermarthen mail on December 19, 1835. He says:--

"It appears from the tracks of the wheels, which are still visible, owing to the frost setting in immediately after the accident, that about a hundred yards before the cart was met, the mail was in the middle of the road, leaving room on either side for the cart to pass, and at this distance the cart was seen to be on the wrong side of the road. The coachman called out in the usual way when the carter crossed to his near side of the road, and had the coachman gone to his near side, no accident would have occurred; but, by the tracks of the wheels, it is quite clear that the coachman took the off-side of the road in a sort of sweep, when the leaders coming in front of the cart, and not being able to pass, went over the bank and hedge, the latter being low; and then the wheelers followed in as regular a manner as if they had been going down a street, and all the four wheels of the coach went on the bank straight forward and went down the precipice in this manner for some short distance before the mail went over, which it did on the right side, and turned over four times before it was stopped by coming against an oak tree. But for this impediment to its progress it would have turned over again and fallen into a river. The pole was broken at both ends, and the perch and hind springs were broken. The fore boot was left in its progress; the mail box was dashed to atoms, and the luggage and bags strewed in all directions. A tin box containing valuable deeds was broken, and the deeds scattered in all directions, but have been all recovered, and are safe in Colonel Gwynne's possession, to whom they belong. When the coach came against the tree it was on its wheels. Colonel Gwynne caused it to be chained and locked to the tree till the inspector should see it. The distance from the road to the tree is eighty-seven feet. The passengers were Colonel Gwynne on the box, Mr. D. Jones, Mr. Edwards, and Mr. Kenrick on the roof, and Mr. Lloyd Harris and Mr. Church inside. Colonel Gwynne jumped off when he saw the leaders going over the bank, as did Edward Jenkins the coachman and Compton the guard. The latter was somewhat stunned at first, but all escaped with slight hurt.

"Mr. D. Jones was found about half-way down the precipice, bleeding much, having received several cuts about the head and face, and was a good deal bruised and in a senseless state. Mr. Harris, when the coach came in contact with the tree, was forced through the part from which the boot had been separated, and fell into the river. He remembers nothing of the accident except feeling cold when in the river, from which, somehow or other, he got out and went to a farmhouse near, where he was found in a senseless state. He has a severe cut on the upper lip, but both he and Mr. Jones are recovering rapidly. Mr. Kenrick was not hurt in the least. The accident appears to have been one of the most extraordinary ever heard of, and the escape of the passengers with their lives most miraculous. The coachman's conduct seems to have been most censurable. He is reported by the guard and passengers to have driven the whole of the way most irregularly. He was remonstrated with by them, but, as has been seen, with no effect. One of the passengers thought he was drunk, but the guard says he did not observe it, but that he only heard him speak once. The horses were so little injured that they were at work the next day in their usual places."

The coachman was afterwards brought before the magistrates, when he pleaded guilty to negligence and being on the wrong side of the road, and was fined five pounds.

On 13th January, 1836, when the Falmouth and Exeter mail was about three miles from Okehampton, the coachman drove against a heap of stones which had been placed too far out from the off-side of the road, and the concussion was so great that both himself and the guard were thrown off. The horses, finding themselves under no control, immediately went off at a smart pace, and, although they had three sharp turns to take, and a hill to go down, actually arrived at the Okehampton turnpike gate without the slightest accident. There was one gentleman inside, who was not aware that anything was amiss, but merely thought the coachman was driving too fast. Perhaps the despised turnpike gate prevented a serious accident in this case.

In July, 1839, the Ipswich mail, when arriving at Colchester, the coachman Flack, as is usual, threw down the reins and got down when no horsekeeper was at the horses' heads, and they galloped off till the near leader fell and broke his neck, which stopped them. Probably this accident would not have occurred if the coach had been fitted with a brake, which the coachman ought to put on tight before leaving his box.

An old friend of mine writes me, "One night I was a passenger in the Glasgow mail, driven by Captain Baynton, and felt rather uneasy when I found we were racing with the Edinburgh mail for the Stamford Hill toll-gate. The consequence was, we cannoned in the gate, and a most awful crash ensued, killing two wheel horses and seriously injuring the other two. It is needless to say that Billy Chaplin never allowed the captain to take the Glasgow mail out of the yard again." Anything more reckless than this could not possibly be. Not only were they racing down hill, but the gate was too narrow to admit of both coaches going through abreast; consequently, unless the nerve of one of the coachmen gave way before it was too late, so as to make him decline the contest in time, a smash was inevitable. Neither had they the excuse that they were driving opposition coaches.

On September 29th, 1835, when the coachman of the Ipswich mail was getting into his seat at the "Swan with Two Necks" yard in Lad Lane, the horses suddenly started off, knocking down the man who was attending at their heads, and throwing the coachman off the steps. They then proceeded at a rapid pace into Cheapside, when the coach, catching the hind part of the Poole mail, the concussion was so great that it threw the coachman of that mail from his box with such violence that he was taken up senseless, and was carried to the hospital in a dangerous state. The horses of the Ipswich mail, continuing their speed, ran the pole into the iron railings of the area of Mr. Ripling's house, which breaking, fortunately set the leaders at liberty, when the wheel horses were soon stopped without doing any further damage.

To anyone who remembers the situation of the yard of the "Swan with Two Necks," it will be a matter of surprise how four horses, entirely left to their own guidance, could possibly steer the coach clear of the different corners between it and Cheapside.

The following is an instance of a coach absolutely rolling over.

The "Liverpool Express," when near Chalk Hill on her journey to London, though not a particularly fast coach, was going at a great pace, as the stage was only four miles, and she was making time for a long stage to follow. Somehow or another she got on the rock, which is easily done with a coach heavily loaded on the roof if the wheel horses are not poled up even, or not the right length, and the coach is kept too much on the side of the road.

Though I have elsewhere said a good deal on the subject of pole chains, I have been induced to make a practical application here for the benefit of any young coachmen who may be disposed to spring their teams on a nice piece of flat ground. But to return to the "Express."

It was a very old coach, and the transom plate was so much worn as to have become round, and she rolled over, killing one passenger and severely injuring two more. "They were thrown off like a man sowing wheat broadcast," says my informant. One passenger brought an action against the proprietors and recovered heavy damages, though they tried to saddle it on the coachman's driving too fast; but the jury laid it to the bad state of the transom plate, and gave damages accordingly.

The following accident, like many others, is one which ought not to have happened at all, and it appears to me that, after all the investigation which took place, the saddle was put upon the back of the wrong horse. However, I will give the Post-office minute upon the occasion:--

"London and Worcester mail coach accident caused through carrying an extra passenger on the box, July 9th, 1838.

"As the mail coach was entering Broadway, the horses ran away; when the leading reins breaking, the coach was drawn against a post, and the pole and splinter bar were broken. Fortunately, the coach did not overturn. The reason for the horses taking fright could not be ascertained, but the guard stated that the book-keeper at Oxford had insisted on placing an extra passenger on the box seat with the coachman, who had declared since the accident that, if the extra passenger had not been on the box seat, he would have been enabled to stop the horses.

"An order was issued that the book-keeper and coachman were to be summoned, with the intent of punishing them both with the utmost rigour of the law; as regards the coachman for allowing an extra person to ride with him, and the book-keeper for insisting that the coachman (who was in a manner obliged to obey his orders) should carry the passenger on the seat with him.

"The inspector found, when applying for the summons, that he could only proceed against the coachman. The case was heard before the magistrates at Oxford, when the coachman was fined in the penalty of fifty shillings and costs."

The question was raised as to asking the contractor to dismiss the coachman, but the opinion of the Postmaster-General was that the punishment had fallen on the wrong man, and he would, therefore, not insist upon his dismissal.

I should have supposed that, in such a case as this, the guard would have had power to summarily prevent an extra passenger being carried. If he had not that power he surely ought to have had it, and if he did possess it, and did not exercise it, he alone was to blame. But, after all, it is difficult to understand how the presence of a third person on the box could have contributed to the breaking of the reins, which was the ultimate cause of the accident.

Amongst the other old institutions and customs which I have raked up from the dust-heap of time, is the law of Deodand, and I will now, by means of an accident, give a practical insight into the working of it.

As the Holyhead mail was one day galloping down a sharp pitch in the road at Shenley, three boys on their way to school, as was a not uncommon practice with boys in those days, tried which of them could run across the road nearest to the horses' heads of the coach. Two of them got across in time and escaped without harm, but the third, being foolhardy, tried to return; the lamentable result of which was that the near side leading bar struck him and knocked him down, causing the mail to run over him, and he was killed on the spot.

A coroner's inquest was held, before which the coachman had to appear, but no blame was attached to him, although a deodand of one sovereign was levied on the coach.

The law appears to have worked hardly in this case. If any one was to blame, it must have been the coachman, and it was rather rough on the proprietors to fine them indirectly for an accident over which they could have no control.

There was a coach from Cambridge to London, called the "Star," what was called an up and down coach; that is, leaving Cambridge in the morning, and returning again in the evening, from the "Belle Sauvage," Ludgate Hill, which was driven by Joe Walton, a very steady, good coachman, but which, nevertheless, met with a very serious and expensive accident.

Sir St. Vincent Cotton, well known afterwards on the Brighton road, whenever he travelled by the "Star," was allowed by Mr. Nelson, the London proprietor, to waggon it, and it was considered a great piece of condescension on the part of old Joe to give up the ribbons to anyone; but the baronet was a first-rate amateur, and a liberal tipper, so he waived the etiquette. On one of these occasions the "Star" was a little behind time, and St. Vincent was making it up by springing the team a little too freely, which set the coach on the rock, and old Joe becoming nervous, seized hold of the near side reins and thus threw her over. Calloway, the jockey, who was on the coach, had his leg broken, and the accident altogether cost the proprietors nearly two thousand pounds. Sir St. Vincent was unable to assist them much, as he was hard-up at the time.

Probably the fact of the coach being driven by an amateur was not without its effect upon the costs, as, whether he was to blame or not, a jury would not be unlikely to arrive at the conclusion that he was the wrong man in the wrong place.

And now I will wind up this formidable chapter of accidents with one which indicates that the palmy days were passing away, and as it is always somewhat painful to witness the decay of anything one has been fond of, I will draw the veil over the decadence of a system which arrived nearer to perfection than any other road travelling that was ever seen in the world. Sufficient to say that my own experience on a journey during that winter on the Holyhead mail quite confirms the description given of the state of the horses and harness.

I was on the box of the mail one night in the month of January in that winter, when I saw the old short Tommy, which had lain so long on the shelf, reproduced, to enable time to be kept, and in one place there lay by the side of the road the carcase of a horse which had fallen in the up mail. Perhaps it was not very much to be wondered at that the proprietors should be unwilling to go to the expense of buying fresh horses at such a time, but they carried their prudence so far that it partook of cruelty.

The mail coach minute of the General Post-Office says: "Collision between the Holyhead mail coach and the Manchester mail coach, 29 June, 1838, at Dirty House Hill, between Weedon and Foster's Booth."

"Both coachmen were in fault. The Holyhead coach had no lamps, and the explanation of their absence was that 28th June of that year was the Coronation Day of our beloved Queen, and the crowd was so great in Birmingham that, in paying attention to getting the horses through the streets, and having lost considerable time in so doing, in the hurry to get the coach off again, the guard did not ascertain if the lamps were with the coach or not. The Manchester coach, at the time of the accident, was attempting, when climbing the hill, to pass the Carlisle mail coach, and was ascending on the wrong side of the road. The horses dashed into each other, with the result that one of the wheel horses of the Holyhead mail, belonging to Mr. Wilson, of Daventry, was killed, and the others injured, one of the leaders seriously. The harness was old, and snapped like chips, or more serious would have been the consequences. In fact, the horse killed was old and worn-out, otherwise, the sudden concussion might have deprived the passengers of life, and, probably, more horses would have been killed. As it was difficult to decide which of the two coachmen was most in the wrong, it was left to the two coachmasters to arrange affairs between themselves."

How the Holyhead, the Manchester, and the Carlisle mails ever got together on the same road I am unable to say, but can only suppose that the railway being open at that time from Liverpool and Manchester to Birmingham, the bags were in some way handed over to them for conveyance as far as was possible, and were then consigned at the terminus at Birmingham to their respective mail coaches; but, even then, I should have thought that the weight of the bags could not have been sufficient to necessitate a separate coach for each place.