And now we have arrived at the last coach which was put on the road between London and Birmingham. In the year 1837 a very fast day mail was started to run to Birmingham and to go on to Crewe, where it transferred mails and passengers to the railway for conveyance to Liverpool, and was largely patronised by Irish M.P.'s, as it ran in connection with the packet to the Sister Isle, and booked through. Half a dozen of those notables of the day could frequently be seen travelling by her at one time. It was timed at twelve miles an hour. It was horsed by Sherman of the "Bull and Mouth" out of London, and was driven by H. Liley, who had long experience on the "Wonder" over the lower ground. At Redbourn, he was replaced on the box by my before-mentioned friend as having driven both the "Independent Tally-ho" and afterwards the "Nimrod," and he drove till he met the up coach tooled by Jonathan Morris, when they changed, each one returning to the place from which he started, and it was taken into Birmingham by T. Liley, a brother of Harry. He had previously driven the "Eclipse Tally-ho," and Jonathan Morris had had his experience upon the "Hibernia," already mentioned as running between Liverpool and Cheltenham. He was pitted on that coach against Jordan, who drove the "Hirondelle," and was noted as a "butcher," but was possessed of great strength and had adamantine nerve, and only a first rate practitioner had a chance with him. Jonathan was quite a different class of coachman, and saved his stock as well as the pace and load would allow him, and I have myself seen him trot by Jordan in ascending the Wyle Cop in Shrewsbury, when the latter had nearly flogged his horses to a standstill. Perhaps I should add, in fairness to Jordan, that, though he had a beautiful team, it was composed of light horses, and that the other coach was drawn by horses possessing more size and power for enabling them to get a load up a steep ascent. I have been particular in giving the antecedents of these coachmen, as, of course, they were picked out as especially qualified for the great pace at which this mail was timed, and it was a feather in their caps. Indeed, it may be said that, as at that time the end of coaching was within measurable distance, they represented "the survival of the fittest."
About this time the Postmaster-General started several day mails besides the one just mentioned. There was one on the Brighton road, and one between Birmingham and Shrewsbury, which left the Holyhead road at Shiffnal, and, passing through Ironbridge, joined it again about four miles from Shrewsbury, and probably there were others of which I have no cognizance.
CHAPTER XI.
THE BRIGHTON ROAD.
So much has already been written about the Brighton road that, perhaps, it may seem presumptuous in me to re-open the subject, but as I have noticed the Birmingham road, I will venture to dwell very shortly upon the Brighton one, as they may be said to have been the antithesis to each other, much in the same way as now the business of the southern railways differs from that of what are called by way of distinction the heavy lines. No observant person can, I think, arrive in London from the south and drive through town straight to one of the large railway stations in the north, without being struck with the difference of the traffic. So it was in the coaching days; on one road business was paramount, on the other a little time for pleasure could be indulged in. I do not mean to say that they carried on the old practice of throwing away ten minutes or a quarter of an hour at each change of horses; far from it. The work was admirably done, but it had not about it the severe utilitarianism which was the prevailing feature with the other. The horses on the northern road showed, as a rule, more blood, and the coaches gave the idea of their having been built with a view to carrying loads at a high rate of speed. Nothing seemed wanting to ensure pace with safety, whilst, at the same time, there was nothing to lead anyone to suppose for a moment that they were anything but stage coaches.
On the other hand, on the road to the fashionable watering-place, some of the coaches, from the small amount of lettering upon them, and bright pole chains, might at first sight have been mistaken for private drags.
Notwithstanding all this pace, it must not be supposed that a journey by one of those fast coaches on the northern road was a hurried, uncomfortable day's work, with no time to eat a comfortable meal. On the contrary, though only twenty-five minutes were allowed for dinner, so much assistance was generally given in waiters to carve and wait upon the passengers, that a by no means bad dinner could be made in the allotted time; and to show that the food was not otherwise than palatable, I may instance the case of a medical gentleman residing at Brickhill (I think), but, at any rate, in the town where the up "Wonder" dined, who, whenever possible, went in with the passengers and made his dinner with them.
I will now venture on a few circumstances and anecdotes connected with the Brighton road, which may help to portray the differences I have been describing in the two roads; but, before doing so, I should like to remark that anyone writing at this time on the subject is liable to make mistakes, as those coaches in some cases changed hands, as, for instance, at one time the "Age" was the property of and driven by Mr. Stevenson, and at a later period was in the possession of Sir St. Vincent Cotton. Of this coach it has been written by Nimrod that "Mr. Stevenson had arrived at perfection in his art and had introduced the phenomenon of refinement into a stage coach." I never happened to see this coach in his time, but can well remember Sir St. Vincent Cotton on the box of his neat brown coach, with bright pole chains. A friend of mine says, "Well I remember Harry Stevenson, with his beautiful team, starting from the 'White Horse Cellars,' and calling for his box passenger at the United Service Club, and from thence to the 'Elephant and Castle,' the final stop before departure for Brighton, and his guard, George Carrington, who was the essence of neatness and politeness to his passengers."
This coach was for a short time driven by Sackville Gwynne, who ran through all his property, and died in Liverpool, where he was driving a cab.
It would be tedious to enumerate half the coaches, nearly thirty in number, which ran out of Brighton every day, and many of them the best looking turns-out in the kingdom. A few as specimens will suffice. First and foremost came the "Times," starting at seven in the morning, arriving at Charing Cross at twelve, and returning to Brighton at two, driven by Sam Goodman. Bob Brackenbury, a first-rate amateur whip at that time, used to drive from Brighton to Sam Goodman's farm, a distance of eleven miles, and back again in the evening. Then there was the "Dart," another up and down coach, driven by Bob Snow, a first-rate artist. Some may even now remember his rubicund face, which he had just helped to colour with a pint of sherry after his dinner, as he mounted his box like a workman, when returning from the "Spread Eagle," Gracechurch Street, with his faultless drab great-coat, and a bale of white muslin round his neck; and such top boots! The "Elephant and Castle" was his first stopping-place, to meet the West End branch coach; and here he always replenished his inner man with a glass of hot brandy and water with a spoonful of ground ginger in it, as he said, to assist his digestion. After he started from there, it was woe-betide the poor horse that offended him before he reached Reigate, where the "Dart" stopped for dinner, and in those days the city merchants and stockbrokers knew how to take care of themselves. His only opponent was the "Item," driven by Charles Newman, who was always wretchedly horsed, and could not come near him.
Another well known face on this road was that of John Willan, who, after having lost a good fortune on the turf, started the "Arrow," which was also horsed by Horne and Sam Goodman. This coach was mostly supported by the élite of the sporting world. The turn-out was altogether most unique.