CHAPTER VI.

HORSES.

A book about coaching would be very incomplete without touching on the subject of horses, as they were like the main spring of a watch: the coach could not go without them.

Of course, a very large number of horses were employed in the coaches, and I can remember that many people feared that, if coaches ceased to run, the number and quality of the horses bred in the country would deteriorate, in consequence of this demand for them falling off; but that, like most prognostications of the same sort, has proved to be unfounded, and I should think the number of horses at the present time employed in public conveyances, must exceed considerably what it was in the days of road travelling.

However that may be, no doubt very large numbers were kept by the different coach proprietors, both in town and country, at the head of which stood Mr. Chaplin, with about thirteen hundred; and a very large capital was invested in the business, though probably not so large as might be supposed by the uninitiated; for, judging by my own experience, I should say that the price of horses used for that purpose has been over-stated. Nimrod, who was no doubt a very competent authority on the subject, at the time he wrote his article in the _Quarterly Review_,[1] puts the average price at twenty-five pounds, with about thirty pounds for those working out of London; but I think those prices are rather high.

[1] _Quarterly Review_ for 1832, vol. 48, pages 346-375.

This statement may appear erroneous to those who would judge by the sums now obtained for the horses which have been running in the summer coaches out of London in the present day; but the two businesses have little in common, except that the coaches go on wheels and are drawn by horses. Six months' work on a coach, loaded as they used to be, would take more out of the horses employed in them than would two years in the coaches which look so pretty at Hatchett's on a fine summer morning, and no one could have afforded to give high prices for what wore out so quickly; not but that horses increased in value for the work required of them as they became seasoned to it; but, again, some wore out in the seasoning. Many horses, doubtless, were bought at the price of twenty-five pounds, and perhaps in some cases a little over, though those were exceptional cases, and for myself, I can say that I never found it necessary to exceed that sum; but in drawing the average, we must not leave out of the calculation the large number of horses which found their way into coaches in consequence of the infirmity of their tempers, and, I may add, of the bad management they had been subjected to.

If a horse, though from no fault of his own, ran away with the parson's or lawyer's "four-wheeler," he was immediately offered to the nearest coach proprietor. If another kicked a commercial traveller out of his buggy, he was at once offered to the coach proprietor. If a gentleman's carriage-horse took to any bad habit, which rendered him unfit for his work, or unpleasant to the coachman to drive, he also was offered to the coach proprietor; and I once came into possession of a very good horse at the price of ten pounds from this last cause. He had taken to jibbing, probably because he had a very light mouth, which caused him to resent the bearing rein, and was offered to me for the above-named sum, at which I immediately closed. The coachman brought him to my stable in time for him to be harnessed and take his place in the team going out that evening, and he stayed to witness the start, quite expecting, I make no doubt, to see some fun. I put him at lead, by the side of a very good horse, though, by the by, he had brought a coach to grief when placed alongside of the pole. Of course, there was no bearing rein, and he only just stood for a moment till the bars began to rattle against his houghs, when he started off with a bound and a hop, and never gave the slightest trouble.

Horses also got into coaches in consequence of unsoundnesses, which, though little or no detriment to them for work, reduced their market value very considerably; and I once became possessed, for the sum of eighteen pounds, of a very fine horse, nearly thorough-bred, and only five years old, because he had become a roarer, and which had been bought as a hunter for one hundred guineas only a short time previously; but though he ran over a nine-mile stage with some very heavy hills upon it, having no weight on his back, he never made the slightest noise. There are other causes of unsoundness, such as crib-biting, which are no detriment to a coach-horse, though lowering their value in the market.

Then, again, if a horse fell and chipped his knees, whether it arose from any fault or not, he was, as a general rule, sold out of a gentleman's stable; and I once picked up an excellent horse merely for fear he should break his knees. He was a very well-made animal, with the exception that he turned his toes in. He was the property of a clergyman, who must have known little or nothing about horses, and, I suppose, some knowing friend who thought he _did_ know must have alarmed him by telling him that the horse was certain to come down with such a pair of forelegs; so, to save a greater loss, a horse worth thirty pounds at least came into my possession for twenty. So far from falling, he was a safe goer, both in saddle and harness.

The instances to which I have alluded may be classed perhaps more as shortcomings and failings than vice, but to those must be added many whose tempers were apparently incorrigible, and they could only be put in a coach, as those who travelled post would not put up with them.

Just one word _en passant_ on that mode of travelling, as it must be quite unknown to the majority of people now living; but, as one who can recollect it, I venture to say that a well-built comfortable carriage with four post-horses was the perfection of travelling. It is not to be denied that it took a day or two to get over the same distance as is now travelled by a train in a few hours, but the inns on the road were good, generally afforded comfortable accommodation, the cooking was also good, and the wine very fair, of which it was usual to order a bottle for the "good of the house." Some of them had a special character for what were called sleeping-houses, and travellers would continue their journey for an extra stage for the purpose of reaching one of these houses for the night. The attention paid to posting travellers was very great. Upon the carriage stopping at the door, the entrance was perceived to be lined by the hostess, waiters, chambermaids, etc., and the universal question was, "Will you please to alight?" If they elected to proceed, the cry was immediately raised, "First and second turns out," and in a minute would be seen approaching two mounted postboys, with two other men leading the hand horses, and in about three minutes they were off again, dashing along at about nine miles an hour. If, however, the day's journey was ended, the dusk of evening was exchanged for a comfortable private sitting-room with a bright fire--no public rooms in those days. At the time appointed a comfortable dinner would be served, the _piece de resistance_ being very commonly placed on the table by the host himself. Indeed, one of the great recommendations of the inns of those days was that the host and hostess interested _themselves_ in the comfort of their guests. If we add to this the fact that at the beginning of the journey you were taken from your own door, and at the end of it landed at your own or a friend's door, without the experiences of a crowded railway station, there may be something to be said in favour of it.

I can imagine I hear someone say, "Oh, yes, it might have been pleasant enough for those swells who could afford to pay for four horses, but how about the smaller fry who were obliged to be contented with the modest pair?" Well, I must confess that the odd mile or two an hour did make a difference, and posting in a travelling carriage packed with all its boxes, and containing four or five persons about it, such, in fact, as was called by the postboys a "_bounder_, having everything except the kitchen grate," was often, especially in winter, not unattended with discomfort and tediousness. How well can I recollect, when quite a child, at the end of a day's travelling of seventy or eighty miles on a winter's day, when twilight was fast sinking into darkness, envying the people who I could see through the windows of the houses, sitting round a blazing fire! And, indeed, the blacksmith, blowing up the fire on his hearth and making the sparks fly from the iron by the blows administered by his brawny arms, possessed much attraction. This, however, was quite made up for on the down journey later in the year. This, indeed, was unalloyed delight. After having been "cribbed, cabined, and confined" in London for five months, with nothing more nearly approaching to the country than Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens (and in those days there was not a flower-bed in either of them), when one emerged from the suburbs, which was sooner done in those days than now, and the eye beheld the fields and green hedges, made brilliant by wild flowers, it seemed a very Elysium; and to hold in one's hand a posy of dog-roses was bliss itself, even though they had received a peppering of road dust. I have always loved a dog-rose since, and shall continue to do so as long as I live. The longest summer day was hardly long enough for taking in such happiness. No amount of railway travelling will ever leave behind such happy reminiscences of childhood. Then, again, there was time and opportunity for other things, which can never be the case in railway travelling; amongst which was the childish pleasure of being fitted with a new straw hat whilst the horses were being changed at Dunstable. It was not all _couleur de rose_, neither was it all labour and sorrow. Like all other things in this world, it had its lights and shades.

Perhaps it may be urged against this that there is no time for such a mode of travelling now. It may be so, but, as a nearly worn-out old roadster, it strikes me there may be too much haste for comfort. It was undeniably slow and expensive, though it may be doubted whether people generally spent more money in travelling than they do now. The facilities offered by railways cause the present generation to move about a great deal more freely than did their ancestors.

But all this is skirting, and I must return to the scent, which was, I think, very much the sort of horses which we coachmen had to drive. They were, indeed, often a very queer lot, but they had to be driven, and were driven. Of course, four of this sort were not put all together; there were always one or two steady ones among them. But even if they had been, and all had determined to do wrong, it is most improbable that all would have gone wrong in the same way, and one could have been played off against another. This is one great advantage in four. In single harness, if the horse takes to bad ways, you have the whole team against you, but that is, as I have said, very unlikely with four. Perhaps this may account for the old saying that "half the coachmen were killed out of gigs."

When I got a horse that was very troublesome, I always found that doubling him, that is, making him run his stage double, brought him to his senses in the course of a week or two. Some may say it was not right to risk the lives and limbs of the passengers, by using unruly horses, but, practically, very little danger was incurred. I will not say that no accidents ever occurred from this cause, but they were very rare. If an accident should have happened, and a life been lost from that cause, the old law of "deodand" would have touched up the proprietor's pockets severely; besides which, horses of this description were only entrusted to the hands of well-tried men.

Notwithstanding all this, however, accidents did occasionally happen from this cause, and sometimes of a very serious nature, one or two of which I will now produce. The first was an exceedingly calamitous one, and I think I cannot do better than use the words of a friend of mine, who was an eye-witness to the scene, as they will be more likely to convey a full idea of the horrible appearance presented by the mingled heap of injured human beings and horses, with the coach on the top of them, than anything I can say at second hand. He says: "I was staying at the 'White Horse,' at Hockliffe, for a few days, and on the first night I was disturbed by a man knocking at the front door and shouting, 'Get up, the "Greyhound" is overturned and all the passengers are killed.' Upon hearing of this terrific slaughter," he proceeds to say, "I got up, and with others started to the scene of the catastrophe, which was about a mile and a half distant, opposite to a large mansion called 'Battleden House,' then the residence of Sir G. P. Turner, and there we found a mass of human beings and horses all of a heap. The coachman was under the coach with his leg broken, many of the passengers dangerously injured, and two horses had legs broken. It was a shocking sight to witness, and melancholy to hear the squealing of horses, and the passengers moaning."

After all, however, it was found that there was not so much damage done here to the passengers as would have been expected. None were killed, nor any so seriously injured but that they were able to be conveyed to their destinations in a few days.

The cause of the accident originated in the near side wheeler accomplishing what she had tried to do many times before, viz., kick over the pole, which broke, when, of course, all control was lost, and the coach was overturned into the ravine where it was found.

In the other case no injury was sustained by anyone except the culprit himself, who must have been an exceedingly violent brute.

In October, 1839, when near Maidenhead a horse in the Bristol mail kicked so violently that he broke the pole-hook and harness, and put out his own shoulder in his fall.

Blind horses, again, found their way into coaches, and, if high mettled ones, performed very good work. The worst of them was, that they became too knowing about the corners, and when at wheel, where they were generally driven (though in Ireland I have had both leaders blind), if the coachman was not on the look out for it, might hang him into one. Some however, were very bold, and high couraged. I recollect one which ran in the lead of the "Greyhound" out of Shrewsbury, of this sort. He was so handsome a horse, that, if he had been all right, he would have commanded at least a hundred guineas for a gentleman's carriage, but being blind, of course, was only fit for a coach. One day, when I was travelling by that coach, and was as usual driving, he quite won my heart by the high couraged manner in which he elbowed his way through the large droves of cattle which were being driven along the road from Shrewsbury fair.

The reader will now understand how it came to pass that the average value of coach-horses was so low, as these blemished, unsound, and vicious ones never cost more than fifteen pounds, and very often not much above half that sum. I once purchased a good mare for the very modest figure of twenty-five shillings. It may be asked, how was it possible to buy a horse fit to run a coach, or indeed do any fast work, for such a sum? to which I reply, that she had only one place where she could possibly be utilized, and that at the time she came into my possession coaches were continually being supplanted by railways, and therefore there was very little demand for such as her. She had neither size nor form for a wheeler, even if she would have condescended to go there, and only of use on one side at lead, I forget which, and I suppose would very promptly have made fragments of any carriage behind her in single harness. She was, however, a real good leader where she chose to go, and I drove her in a match team of chestnuts for a considerable time. I bought her with confidence, as I had frequently driven her in another coach previously.

Talking of only going on one side, I do not think coachmen always consider this enough. There is a theory with many gentlemen, and their coachmen, that the sides should be changed frequently; but with hard work, such as that in a coach, horses do their work better and easier to themselves by always going in the same place. At one time I was horsing a coach, and driving one side, as it was called, another coachman driving the other; and, consequently, we both drove the same horses over some stages. He said to me, "That in one of my teams, one leader could not go up to the other." I asked him on which side he drove him. He replied, "I put him on the off side, because I can get at him better there." I said, "You try the near side," which was where I always drove him, "and you will not want to get at him." Of course, if a horse begins to hang to one side, it has become time to change him.

The vices which most commonly brought horses into coaches were jibbing and kicking. I do not recollect to have ever known a case of either of them being thoroughly eradicated, though they were sufficiently kept under to render them of little moment; but they were liable to return if a fresh hand took hold of them, especially if he showed any signs of indecision. It is astonishing how soon horses find out a change of hand.

The great thing to attend to with jibbers is not to keep them standing. If they have time to plant themselves they will give trouble; but if the coachman is up and off at once, they will generally start.

With kickers at wheel I never found two or three good punishments over the ears to fail in bringing them into subjection, or, at any rate, sufficiently so, though a "ventilated" front boot might occasionally be the result. With a road coach, however, this did not much signify. A leader might be harder to tame, as he cannot be got at in the same way. I have heard it said of some one that he was so excellent a whip that he could hit a fly on a leader's ear. I can only say I never saw it done. But if a leader will not stand still to kick, he can be driven; kick and keep going doesn't much matter.

In justice to the horses, however, it must be said that they are not the only ones to blame. No small number of them are rendered vicious, or unsteady, by mismanagement, and irremediable mischief is not unfrequently produced from quite unexpected causes. To give one instance: I am convinced that many a leader is set kicking by the pole-chains being too slack.

I fancy I hear someone say, "What on earth have the pole-chains to do with the leaders?" Well, I will try and show how intimately they are connected.

When pulling up or going down-hill, the wheel horses must come back towards the coach sufficiently to tighten the pole-chains. They will thus be nearer the coach, or further off, by just that number of inches. Then, as the leaders' reins are held in the same place as the wheelers', they must also come back by the same number of inches, which may, in the case of very slack pole-chains, be sufficient to allow the bars to fall upon the leaders' houghs, which is a fertile source of kicking; and it is a very true saying that a horse which has once kicked in harness is never to be trusted again.

For a large number of jibbers I believe the bearing rein to be responsible. But, after all, horses are queer creatures. They have as many fads and fancies as men and women. Some will kick for being touched in one spot, and some in another. I drove a leader for some time who was easily set kicking by the bar touching him above his houghs; but upon lengthening his traces by two or three holes, so as to let the bar fall below the hough, in case it should touch him, he was quite contented. And, again, some horses will kick when touched by a low pole, others by a high one.

Coupling reins also are frequently so arranged as to be a cause of discomfort to horses. It is manifest that when one horse carries his head high, and his partner low, the coupling rein of the former should be above that of the latter; and, again, if one horse tosses his head, and his coupling rein is the under one, he must cause much annoyance to the other, especially if he has a light mouth.

Parliament has now passed a Bill for the purpose of regulating the traffic in horseflesh. Such an Act, if it had been placed on the Statute Book, and had resulted in creating a demand for horseflesh for food, would have been a great boon to stage coachmen formerly, as they would not have been called upon to wear out the old horses. It would have paid the proprietors better to put them up to feed when they became stale, and fatten them for the market. It would also have prevented much suffering to horses.

And now, if any reader is astonished at the price of horses, if he has never heard of a less price for a set of harness than sixty guineas, he will be incredulous when I mention the cost of that generally used with coaches. Eighteen pounds was the top price usually given, and I have driven with well-shaped and good-looking harness which only cost sixteen. Indeed, at Walsall, which was the chief emporium for low-priced harness, if two or three sets were taken at the same time, they could be had for eleven pounds each. Collars were not included.

Of course, such harness as this did not last long, and, perhaps, was not the cheapest in the long run; though I doubt whether the leather was not better then than it is now, being all tanned with oak bark.