Old Coaching Days / Some Incidents in the Life of Moses James Nobbs, the last of the Mail Coach Guards

by Moses James Nobbs

MAIL COACHMEN AND MAIL GUARDS.

Mr. Nobbs’ reference to the skill of the present Duke of Beaufort’s father as a “whip,” a skill which seems to be hereditary in that family, reminds us of the fact that the same nobleman, while Marquess of Worcester, habitually drove the “Beaufort” coach on the Brighton Road. The “Age” coach, on the same road, was driven by Sir Vincent Cotton, and the Hon. Fred. Jerningham acted as coachman to the Brighton day mail. It would appear, therefore, that in the days when stage coaching was a serious business, aristocratic amateurs of four-in-hand driving were as much in evidence as they are now. Many of them were, of course, unknown to their passengers, and the historians of the old coaching days allege that they were in the habit of pocketing their tips in a matter-of-course manner which would have done credit to the oldest regular coachman on the road.

But it was the guard who was the person of greatest importance on a Mail Coach, and he was generally fully conscious of his own dignity, and inclined to “stand upon” it on the slightest provocation. It was necessary, however, that the guards should be men of strict probity, as they were often entrusted with commissions of great consequence, such as the conveyance of large sums of money for bankers, &c. Moreover, they were principally dependent for their income upon fees received from the public, and in some cases, it is said, those fees amounted to as much as 300l. a year. It is obvious that this system was one that opened a door to corruption and abuse had the guards been unscrupulous men. The payment made to them by the Post Office was but half a guinea, a week—a sort of retaining fee—or just sufficient, with the uniform, to mark them as servants of the Department. Thus, when the Post Office guards began to be employed on the railways, the Postmaster-General had to apply to the Treasury for authority to pay them in salaries, “inasmuch as it was clear that they would have no chance of obtaining fees.” Some time afterwards the Postmaster-General made a second application to the Treasury, stating “that on certain lines of road, owing to the competition of the railways (with the coaches), the number of passengers by coaches was greatly reduced, and that, consequently, the guards had lost many of their fees.” Thereupon the Treasury granted permission to pay the guards employed on coaches, in certain cases, at the same rate as the Post Office guards on the railways.

The Stage Coach system was already in its decline when Mr. Nobbs took up duty in 1836. In 1837—the year of Her Majesty’s Accession—52 Mail Guards were appointed; in 1840, 19; in 1843, only 1. The total number of Mail Guards in the United Kingdom in 1841 was 365; in 1843 it had fallen to 327.

It has been pointed out by a recent writer that the Mail Bag Apparatus now in use on the railways had its prototype in the days of the stage coaches, when the Mail bags were held out on the end of a stick to be clutched by the guard as the coach hurried past. Many of these exchanges were, of course, made in the night, and a former officer of the Surveying Staff in the North of Scotland vouches for the truth of the following anecdote. At one of the offices in Caithness—Dunbeath, he believes—the coach used to pass very early in the morning, and the Sub-Postmaster was in the habit of keeping the bags ready for despatch in his bedroom. The blowing of the horn warned him of the approach of the coach, and the guard used to come and receive the bags out of the bedroom window. Once, on a dark rainy night, the guard was handed what he supposed to be the Mail bags, and the coach proceeded some little distance on its way, when, to his disgust, the guard discovered that instead of Mail bags he was carrying off a portion of the Sub-Postmaster’s apparel. The coach was turned back, and once more, to his astonishment, the sleepy Sub-Postmaster heard the tootle of the horn and hastened to the window to inquire what might be the matter. “Hey, mon!” shouted the guard, “gie’s the bags an’ tak’ in yer breeks!” Needless to say the incident afforded the passengers much amusement.

In taking leave of the last of the old Mail Coach Guards we may quote from a recent issue of the Daily Telegraph the following paragraph relative to one who was perhaps the oldest surviving stage coachman:—

“One of the olden time has passed away in William Clements of Canterbury, who, before the present century had reached its twenties, drove the famous ‘Tally-ho’ Coach which plied between the Cathedral City and Gracechurch Street. More than once he had to run the gauntlet of robbers and highwaymen, of whom, however, he had a decidedly low opinion. Railways killed his Coach. Clements reluctantly admitted the superiority of the iron horse to his own teams, although he never relinquished the idea that England’s degeneracy commenced when the ‘Tally-ho’ and other coaches were vanquished by ‘Puffing Billy.’ He died in his ninety-first year, and perhaps is entitled to be called the ‘Last of the Whips.’”

Mr. Clements was not, however, the “Last of the Whips.” While these sheets were passing through the press we had the pleasure of an interview with another veteran, Mr. Harry Ward, of whom mention is made on page [35]. Mr. Ward states that he is 78 years of age, though, judging by his hale and active appearance, one would pronounce him to be ten years younger. He drove the London and Glasgow Mail so far back as the year 1833, at which time he was the youngest coachman on the road. Mr. Ward assures us that in all his fifty years’ experience he never had an accident to his coach. To the remark that this must surely be a unique record, he replied, with pardonable pride, that he was reckoned “the champion coachman” of his time. Such was his fame, indeed, that after the London and Exeter Coach had twice met with serious mishaps, some of the leading inhabitants of Devon and Cornwall sent a strongly worded memorial to the authorities, asking that Harry Ward might be placed on the box; and he was transferred accordingly. Mr. Ward, whose memory is wonderfully clear, has a distinct recollection of the great snow-storm of 1836, when his coach was one of several that were snowed up on Salisbury Plain. He, too, knew the members of the Beaufort family well; indeed it was he who taught the present scions of that house the “art and mystery” of four-in-hand driving. We are glad to be able to add that Mr. Ward is in good health, and still quite capable of managing a team.

Eyre and Spottiswoode, East Harding Street, E.C.