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.
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.