Part 19

Although, however, it may be necessary to catch up wheel-horses, and make them hold back their coach down hill, there is nothing in which a light finger is more essential to safety. The manner in which some persons haul at horses’ mouths, when descending with a load, considerably adds to the difficulty, by trying the strength of the tackle. But this is not all: these persons should be aware that all this force employed on their horses’ mouths is so much added to the pressure of the coach; in proportion to it is that pressure increased. The horses are then drawing by their heads!

The objections to a locked wheel, with a top-heavy load, have already been stated. If, however, with a heavy load, and upon a smooth hard road, a wheel must be locked, it should be that next a ditch, or other dangerous part. In going down hill, a coach always strikes on the side on which the wheel is not locked. The coachman should therefore keep as much as possible on that side of the road on which the wheel is locked: by crossing the road, if he meet or have to pass any thing, the coach will not strike; and by holding that way, at any time, it will prevent overturning. The coach naturally strikes in a direct line from the perch-bolt.

The generality of passengers know not the danger of galloping a coach, with three tons’ weight in and out, down hill, at the rate of twelve or fifteen miles an hour, with no wheel locked, the whole resistance of the wheel-horses depending on a small leather strap and buckle at the top of the hames,--these coachmen deeming it beneath their dignity to drive with breechings. Even thus, however, accidents would be much less frequent if coachmen took the precaution of pulling up their horses short, when on the point of descending. In night-work, this is doubly useful, because it often happens that a pole-chain is unhooked, or a hame-strap gets loose, without being discernible by lamp or moonlight.

“With wheel-horses that will hold back at all, I will be bound,” says a clever writer and experienced coachman, “to take a loaded coach down most of the hills now met with on our great roads, without a drag-chain, provided I am allowed to pull up my horses at the top, and let them take it quietly the first hundred yards. This, it may be said, would be losing time, but, on the contrary, time would be gained by it; for, as soon as I perceived I was master of my coach, I should let her go, and by letting my horses loose at the bottom, I could spring them into a gallop, and cheat them out of half the hill, if there were one (as frequently happens) on the next portion of road. This advantage, it must be recollected, cannot be taken if the chain be to be put on; and I have therefore in my favour all the time required to put the chain on, and to take it off again.”

There are, however, some horses which no man can make to hold a loaded coach down hill. Of this description are, first, the stiff-necked one, as he is called, who turns his head away from his partner, and shoulders the pole; and, secondly, one who, when he feels the weight pressing upon him, begins to canter and jump, as coachmen term it; with these holding back properly is out of the question. With such cattle, the drag-chain must be had recourse to; as well as when there is the least reason to suspect the soundness of the harness. All this confirms the necessity of checking the force of a coach before descending a steep hill, and indeed in some cases--as with bad holders--before coming upon a slight descent. The term which coachmen have for this species of road, is “pushing ground;” and if the fall be long, it is astonishing how the pressure of a loaded coach upon wheel horses is increased before getting to the bottom of it, and how difficult it would be, with wheelers not of the very best stamp, to pull up short, if any accident should happen.

Young coachmen, in descending a hill, should take care that their leaders do not draw on the end of the pole, which many free ones do when they find the coach coming quickly after them; for this not only increases the pressure of the coach on the wheelers, but, should either of them stumble, it must assist in bringing him down. The following good and characteristic directions were given by a very experienced coachman, to a gentleman who undertook to take his coach a journey for him, but who, although he knew the road well, had never driven on it before. “That middle twelve miles of ground,” said he, “is a punisher, and you must mind what you are at with this load. You have two hills to go down, and three to go up, in the first seven miles. Don’t stop to put the chain on, as they’ll hold well, and the tackle is good; and don’t let them walk up the hills, for they are bad hands at that--you will lose a horse’s draught by it, and perhaps get hung up on one of them. You must take fifty minutes to do the first seven miles, and good work too. When you get at the top of the last hill, get down and put your near leader to the cheek, and they’ll toddle you over the last five miles in half an hour, with all the pleasure alive.”

The following observations on this subject from the number of the _Quarterly Review_ already quoted, are too interesting to be omitted here.

“Many years have elapsed,” he says, “since I first observed that, somehow or other, the horses on the continent manage to pull a heavy carriage up a steep hill, or even along a dead level, with greater ease to themselves than our English horses. If any unprejudiced person would only attentively remark with what little apparent fatigue three small ill-conditioned horses will draw, not only his own carriage, but very often that huge over-grown vehicle the French diligence, or the German eilwagen, I think he would agree with me; but the whole equipment is so unsightly--the rope harness is so rude--the horses without blinkers look so wild--there is so much bluster with the postilion--that, far from paying any compliment to the turn-out, one is very much disposed at once to condemn the whole thing, and, not caring a straw whether such horses be fatigued or not, to make no other remark than that in England one would have travelled at nearly twice the rate with one-tenth of the noise. But neither the rate nor the noise is the point--our superiority in the former, and our inferiority in the latter, cannot be doubted. The thing to account for is, how such small, weak horses do actually manage to draw a heavy carriage up hill with so much ease to themselves. Now, in English, French, and German harness, there exists, as it were, three degrees of comparison as to the manner in which the head of the horse is treated; for, in England, it is elevated, or borne up, by what we call the bearing-rein,--in France it is left as Nature placed it (there being to common French harness no bearing-rein),--and, in Germany, the head is tied down to the lower extremity of the collar, or else the collar is so made that the animal is by it deprived of the power of raising his head. Now, passing over for a moment the French method, which is, in fact, the state of nature, let us for a moment consider which is better--to bear a horse’s head up, as in England, or to pull it downwards, as in Germany.”

Evidently fired with a favourite theme, he thus proceeds:--“In a state of nature, the wild horse, as every body knows (?), has two distinct gaits or attitudes. If man, or any still wilder beast, come suddenly upon him, up goes his head; and as he first stalks and then trots gently away--with ears erect, snorting with his nose, and proudly snuffing up the air, as if exulting in his freedom--as one fore-leg darts before the other, we have before us a picture of doubt, astonishment, and hesitation, all of which feelings seem to rein him, like a troop-horse, on his haunches; but, attempt to pursue him, and the moment he defies you--the moment, determining to escape, he shakes his head, and lays himself to his work--how completely does he alter his attitude! That instant down goes his head, and from his ears to the tip of his tail there is in his vertebræ an undulating action which seems to propel him, which works him along, and which, it is evident, you could not deprive him of without materially diminishing his speed. Now, in harness, the horse has naturally the same two gaits or attitudes, and it is quite true that he can start away with a carriage either in the one or the other; but the means by which he succeeds in this effort--the physical powers which he calls into action, are essentially different:--in the one case he works by his muscles, and in the other by his own dead, or rather living, weight. In order to grind corn, if any man were to erect a steam-engine over a fine, strong, running stream, we should all say to him, ‘Why do you not allow your wheel to be turned by cold water instead of hot? Why do you not avail yourself of the weight of the water, instead of expending your capital in converting it into the power of steam? In short, why do you not use the simple resource which Nature has presented ready-made to your hand?’ In the same way, the German might say to us, ‘We acknowledge a horse can drag a carriage by the power of his muscles, but why do you not allow him to drag it by his weight?’

“Let any one observe a pair of English post-horses dragging a heavy weight up a hill, and he will at once see that the poor creatures are working by their muscles, and that it is by sheer strength that the resistance is overcome: but how can it be otherwise; their heads are higher than nature intended them to be, even in walking in a state of liberty, carrying no weight but themselves: the balance of their bodies is therefore absolutely turned against, instead of leaning in favour of their draught; and if my reader will but pass his hands down the back sinews of our stage-coach or post-chaise horses, he will soon feel (though not so keenly as they do), what is the cruel and fatal consequence. It is true, that in ascending a very steep hill an English postilion will occasionally unhook his bearing-reins; but the jaded creatures, trained for years to work in a false attitude, cannot in one moment get themselves into the scientific position which the German horses are habitually encouraged to adopt. Besides this, we are so sharp with our horses,--we keep them so constantly on the _qui vive_, or, as we term it, in hand, that we are always driving them from the use of their weight to the application of their sinews. That the figure and attitude of a horse working by his sinews are infinitely prouder than when he is working by his weight, (there may exist, however, false pride among horses as well as men), I most readily admit; and therefore, for carriages of luxury, where the weight bears little proportion to the powers of the noble animals employed, I acknowledge that the sinews are more than sufficient; but, to bear up the head of a poor horse at plough, or at any slow, heavy work, is, I conceive, a barbarous error, which ought not to be persisted in.

“Whether there is most of the horse in a German, or of the German in a horse, is a nice point, on which people might argue a great deal: but the broad fact really is, that Germans live on more amicable terms with their horses, and understand their dispositions infinitely better, than the English; in short, they treat them as horses, while we act towards them and drill them as if they were men; and, in case any reader should doubt that Germans are better horse-masters than we are, I beg to remind him of what is perfectly well known to the British army,--namely, that in the Peninsular war the cavalry horses of the German Legion were absolutely fat, while those of our regiments were skin, and bone.”

THE TURNINGS.

These must be regulated by the ground. A good driver avoids all quick and sharp turnings. In town, it is much better to drive on a little further, where another street may allow the ample room requisite in turning. If a carriage do not pass quite across a channel without turning, the perch must be twisted according to the descent, because one wheel falls as that at the opposite angle rises. By such a wrench, especially when going fast, the main or perch bolt is frequently broken, and every part strained.

A loaded coach should never be turned short, even at a slow pace, for the coach is never safe when there is not an even bearing on the transom beds. If turned short, at a quick pace, the higher and looser part of a coach must go over, because all bodies put in motion by one power will proceed in a straight line, unless compelled to change their course by some force impressed. Hence a horse at full speed is with difficulty turned to right or left; and, if he turn suddenly, and of his own accord, he puts his rider’s horsemanship to the test. So with a coach, a sudden turn to one side the road allows the body to swag towards the other, and the centre of gravity is lost.

In a turn, a coachman must point his leaders well, that is, take proper ground for them to make the turn, and let his wheelers follow them. Moreover, as wheel-horses are always in haste to make the turn, the driver must shoot them out on the opposite side, just as he has pointed his leaders. Thus, if the turn be to the right, he must catch up his near wheel rein, and hit his off wheel-horse; and _vice versâ_. This will keep the head of the pole (which he should have his eye upon) just between the leaders, and the wheelers will follow, as if they were running on a straight road. This will also secure him against danger, by clearing his coach of posts, gutters, &c. No man can make a neat turn with four horses, unless he shoot his wheelers, at the same time that he points his leaders. In turning, the wheelers must rather be kept up, and the leaders be tight in hand, to avoid the corner; for, if the wheelers flag, and the leaders draw, the carriage must be brought against it.

THE RANKS IN TOWN.

These must never be broken, either in driving through crowded streets, or in setting down at crowded places. As to admitting others into the rank, every driver should do as he would be done by.

STOPS.

It is a good plan to use horses to stop by notice, as it may prevent accidents. In pulling up, the driver must pull the reins equally, but rather those of the wheelers first. If this is attended with difficulty, take the wheelers’ reins in the right hand, and pull till they hang well on the breeching, or on the pole chains, thus increasing the leaders’ draught so much that they will easily be pulled up.

When a young coach-horse is stopped, it should be very gradually--allowing at least ten yards to do it in; for, if it be attempted to stop him short, he will resist. A careful driver will never keep his carriage standing in a great thoroughfare; but when obliged to stop in a crowded street, the driver should, if possible, avoid the spot where another carriage is stopping; should choose as much as possible the widest part of the street; and draw up close to the curb.

There is no part of stage-coach economy in which greater alteration has been made than in changing horses. Unless business is to be transacted--as taking fares for passengers, setting down, getting out parcels, &c.--the average with fast coaches is three minutes for each change.

ACCIDENTS, &c. TO HORSES.

A cantering leader, or one that frets, is generally mismanaged by young coachmen. They are apt to pull him back, and endeavour to get him to trot, by the bit, which generally fails, or makes him even worse, by bringing him back on his bar. The right way is to pull him back by his harness; that is, to keep the wheelers back, so that he may feel his collar and bit at the same time.

A horse that kicks ought to be taken very short in his pole-piece, and gagged; and, when he begins to kick, he should be whipped on the ears--a punishment which should never be inflicted but for vice.--Hallooing to a horse when he kicks, has sometimes an effect. A hot leader is sometimes benefited by mopping. An experienced driver says, “I once bought a capital coach-horse for twenty-six pounds, because no one could drive him: and, as he had broken two carriages, he was the terror of the neighbourhood. I mopped him, and could drive him with the greatest safety, either leader or at wheel.”

In the case of a horse falling, a periodical writer, replying to another, states, “In one of his letters on ‘the Road,’ he says, ‘If the coachman be driving with the short wheel rein, and a horse fall beyond recovery, he had better open his hand, and let the reins fall out, than run the risk of being pulled off the box.’ With all due deference to such authority, I cannot subscribe to this, as it frequently happens that a horse falls, is dragged along the ground for a short distance, and recovers himself the moment the coach stops, and then starts off at full gallop, the other horses following his example. Now, if coachee has opened his fist, and let the reins tumble out, and the above occurrence should take place, I would certainly rather be on the top of Cheviot than on the top of the said coach, as the catastrophe would not be very difficult to foretell.”

On many horses, hot weather has a singular effect; and, therefore, it often happens that a good winter horse is an indifferent summer one. Coach-horses are subject to many accidents, of which one is peculiar to them--namely, fracture of the legs in trotting on level ground.[77] Fractures of the foot in draught-horses and others are common; but fractures of the leg in coach-horses when trotting over level ground, are probably caused by over-tension of the limb in the act of drawing. It is said that a coach-horse’s leg is more frequently broken, when, with a heavy load behind him, he snatches at his collar in a turn of the road.

[77] When driving one of the Birmingham fast coaches, just entering the town of Dunstable, my near leader fell with her off hind-leg snapped clean in two, held together merely by the skin. On pulling up to clear her from the coach, I found the cause of the accident; a piece of flint, shaped like a hatchet, and with a blade as keen as a razor, still adhering to the bone, against which it had either been whirled by a kick from one of the other three, or had flown upwards from the tread of the mare herself,--ED. Fifth Edition.

They are also subject to an affection known by the appellation of the lick, which greatly injures their condition. In this state they lick each other’s skins, and gnaw their halters to pieces. This probably proceeds from the state of the stomach, caused by the excitement of high feeding and work. It may be removed by opening or alterative medicines.

They are likewise subject to a kind of vertigo, which on the road is called megrims. This, of which the immediate cause is temporary pressure on the brain, is often brought on by running in the face of a hot sun; and, therefore, horses subject to megrims ought to work at night. The attack appears to come on suddenly, though a snatching motion of the head is sometimes observed to precede it. If not immediately pulled up, the horse thus affected drops. Such horses should have attention paid to the state of their bowels, and have frequent antimonial alteratives. What is called “a megrim horse” is always dangerous, especially near a precipice or ditch, as, when seized, he rolls away from his partner, and, of course, takes him with him.

ACCIDENTS TO COACHES, &c.

A necessary precaution in a gig is--never to sit with the feet under the body, but always to have one, if not both, out before it. “I had a passenger by the side of me,” says the driver who gives this caution, “who was sitting with his feet under his belly, and who was consequently thrown with much violence into the road. I had five miles further to drive him, during which he took care to have his feet before him.”

In stage-coaches, accidents no doubt occur, and no one will assert that the proprietors guard against them to the utmost of their power. The great competition, however, which they have to encounter, is a strong stimulant to their exertions on this score. In some respects, also, the increase of pace has become the traveller’s security: coaches and harness must be of the best quality; horses fresh and sound; coachmen of skill and respectability can alone be employed; and to this increased pace is owing the improvement in these men’s character. They have not time now for drinking, and they come in collision with a class of persons superior to those who formerly were stage-coach passengers, by whose example it has been impossible for them not to profit. A coachman drunk on his box is now a rarity--a coachman quite sober was, but a few years ago, still more so. On the whole, however, travelling by public conveyance was never so secure as it is at the present time. Axle-trees and springs do not often break now; and if proprietors go to the expense, their wheels are made secure against coming off.

The worst accidents, and those which, with the present structure of coaches, can never be entirely provided against, arise from broken axle-trees, and wheels coming off on the road. The guard, therefore, in whose department this lies, ought to examine the axle-tree every time it is fresh greased. He should also remove it once in ten days, put a string through the bolt that receives the linch-pin, and hang it up and cleanse it; and he should then strike it with a hammer, when, if uncracked and sound, it will ring like a bell--the coachman attending to take care that it be again properly screwed on.

Reins also break, though rarely, except in those parts which run through the terrets, the rings of the throat-lash, or in the billets; and attention to these would make all safe, as far as accidents from this cause are concerned.

Accidents happen also from want of attention to the security of the bridles. The throat-lash, therefore--particularly of the wheelers--should be as tight as can be allowed without injuring respiration. There otherwise is always danger of the bridle being pulled off. Accidents, moreover, happen from galloping coach-horses down hill, or on even ground. If, indeed, a casualty then happen, it must be a bad one. The goodness of a road is no preservative against it: on the contrary, it is possible that if a coach begin to swing, it may go over from the very circumstance of the road being so level and so smooth that there is nothing on its surface to hold the wheels to the ground. If, moreover, there be two horses at wheel whose stride in their gallop differs much as to extent, the unequal draught invariably sets the coach rolling, and, unless the pace moderate, the fore-wheel passing over even a small stone, may, under such circumstances, cause the coach to upset. In respect to lateral motion, however, much depends upon the build of the carriage. In galloping coach-horses, if the leaders lead off with two legs, the motion of the coach is considerably truer, and the swing-bars are also much more at rest, than when each horse uses the same leg.

It appears, then, that accidents to coaches are chiefly to be attributed either to the want of proper skill and care in the servants employed, or to what is still less pardonable, inattention on the part of their masters. Road-coachmen, fortunately, are well aware that the law looks sharply after them; and that for neglect proved against them, they are equally answerable to their employers, as these are to the public.