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.
“If I were to go upon the road,” says an amateur, “I would be a night coachman through a well-inhabited country. For six months of the year, it is undoubtedly the pleasanter service; and I never found any difference between taking rest by day or by night.” It is, however, calculated only for a man in the prime of his days, as all his energies are required. The night coachman ought to know his line of road well. He must take rest regularly, or he will be sure to become drowsy, if he do not go to sleep. He must also keep himself sober; keep a tight hand on his horses; keep the middle of the road; and be sure to keep time.
The night coachman must cast his eye well forward, and get out of the way of carts and waggons in time. Although, by looking perpendicularly from his box or at the hedges, if there be any, he may always see if he be in the road, yet if he cannot throw his eye some way before his leaders’ heads, he is going at random. He will often get close to things he may meet in the road before he is aware of them; and therefore, as I have already said, it is essential that he should be wide awake, and have his horses well in hand.
Chains and springs on the bars are good things for night-work, as they prevent the leaders’ traces coming off. A narrow road, sufficiently wide, of course, for carriages to pass with convenience—with no ditch on the side—is much the best for night-work. Unless when the moon is very bright, a dark night is in favour of safe travelling. When it is what coachmen term “a clear dark,” the lamps give much better light than when the darkness approaches to grey. In very wide roads, particularly where there are no hedges to confine them, lamplight is both weak and deceiving; and moonlight is often glimmering and doubtful, particularly when clouds are passing rapidly. Lamplight is treacherous, both in fogs and when horses are going at a moderate pace, with the wind just behind them; for then the steam arising from their bodies follows them, and necessarily obstructs the light. Sometimes, from driven rain or snow, a coachman can scarcely open his eyes so as to see the road to the extent of the light given by the lamps, in which case a tight hand on the horses is especially necessary.