The History of Coaches

by George Athelstane Thrupp

upon ordinary roads, even where steam does not compete.

In France two-wheeled vehicles for public hire had been in use for some years previous to the commencement of the present century; but it was not until 1823 that London possessed a two-wheeled cab. In that year Mr David Davies built twelve two-wheeled cabs. The body was a little like a hansom cab, but smaller; it had a head of which the hinder half was stiff and solid, the fore part would fold. This arrangement was probably an imitation of the gentleman’s cabriolet, the hood of which was rarely put down altogether, as the groom had to hold on by it.[9] Outside the head on one side was a seat for the driver of the cab, and the whole was hung upon stiff shafts. They were, I think, painted yellow, and stood for hire in a yard in Portland Street, close to Oxford Street. At this time the stands in the streets were occupied by hackney coaches, which certainly were all old coaches of the gentry; many still bore the arms of the former owners, and the drivers wore great coats with a large number of capes, one over the other, to keep in warmth and keep off the rain. It was not long before the two-wheeled cab became popular, and came on the ranks with the coaches. Mr Davies’ cab was copied, but with little variation from his pattern, and the total number of cabs in 1830 was one hundred and sixty-five. After this came Mr Boulnois’ patent one-horse cab with a door behind, like a slice of an omnibus, the two passengers sitting face to face, the driver sitting on the roof—this cab it was hoped would succeed, but the shafts were too short, and the passengers always felt uneasy in case the horse should kick, and the vehicle, otherwise light and useful, fell out of fashion.

Mr Boulnois’ cab was followed by a larger sort invented by Mr Harvey, and at last, about 1836, came the brougham cab to hold two persons; this was rather smaller than that afterwards built for Lord Brougham, and of plainer outline, with straight fore pillar. From this we derive our present clarence cab on four wheels, which we may pronounce as the lightest of all four-wheeled close cabs, but it is certainly anything but satisfactory. It carries, it is true, a large quantity of luggage on the roof, besides six persons, and runs along faster than the cabs of most other cities, but it is abominably noisy, and very rough in motion, uneasy and uncomfortable. Whoever will produce an improved four-wheel cab will deserve the thanks of his countrymen. The first step to this, I consider, would be the authorisation by law of two classes of fares. Let the present cab remain at the present fare, but allow a first-class cab to charge a higher fare, and appoint a proper person or persons to inspect the cabs, and to license the first-class cabs to charge a higher fare. The second step would be to insist on the first-class cabs having patent or mail axles, and covered glass frames to lessen the rattle, and to adopt a regulating spring, which would assist in carrying a heavy load. Regulating springs can easily be made; they are unsightly on a private carriage; but this would be no objection in a public conveyance. It might be in the form of a buffer in the centre of the elliptical spring, or a second elliptic within the first, but the ingenuity of our spring makers would soon surmount the difficulty if the proper authority insisted upon the attempt.

The Hansom patent safety cab is an immense improvement upon the old high two-wheeled cab. We owe the invention to a Mr Hansom, the architect of the Birmingham Town Hall. The safety consisted in the arrangement of the framework at the nearest part to the ground, so as to prevent an upset if the cab tilted up or down. It has since been improved by Mr Evans, of Liverpool; Mr Marston, of Birmingham; and others, until the recently built hansoms are really convenient, easy, and comfortable conveyances, and receive the patronage of many ladies in preference to the four-wheelers.

Cabs of other towns of England and foreign countries have all their peculiar features. Many English towns allow a higher charge per mile than in London. In Plymouth, Southampton, Birmingham, Edinburgh, and some other towns the cabs are light, easy, and quiet. In Bristol they were recently heavy and slow, large and clumsy. In Paris, the cabs are chiefly old broughams of the gentry, with poor, slow horses; but during a great part of the year the stands have abundance of light, open victorias, some of which are satisfactory, being easy and clean. In Rome, nearly all the cabs are open victorias, with hoods and a leather apron, which is, however, but a poor protection in heavy rain; the drivers are generally civil and intelligent. In Naples the cabs are also victorias of a smaller size, and hung higher from the ground, with little horses generally of a very sorry description. Milan has very good cabs, and the best omnibuses I have ever ridden in, quite like our private omnibuses, and they are kept up in very good condition. The streets are paved at Milan very evenly, and have tracks or tramways for the wheels, of long blocks of granite, on a perfect level with the rest of the pavement. These were first laid down at the beginning of this century, and have probably contributed to the general excellence of the carriages built at Milan. This city was one of the first to make improved carriages, even before France and England.

In the year 1662 a remarkable attempt was made to furnish a method of transport which should be within the reach of all, a sort of Omnibus carriage. It was originated and managed by Blaise Pascal, the well-known author of the Lettres Provinciales. He was assisted by several noblemen, who obtained a patent from the king for the privilege. The design was to run public coaches, carrying six persons each, along certain streets in Paris, each coach keeping to its own route, for the sum of five sous each passenger for the whole journey.

This was commenced in March 1662 with seven coaches, the drivers in a blue uniform, with the king’s and city’s arms embroidered upon it. The coaches bore golden fleur de lys on the panels. At first they were a great success, and the sister of Pascal wrote to a friend, “I heard the blessings that were called down on the authors of an institution so advantageous and useful to the public.” This was a general opinion. Two more lines of route were chosen, and the number of coaches increased. They were called “the carriages of the five soldi.” It was, however, found necessary to raise the fare to six soldi, and this, with the increasing number of hackney coaches, the prohibition of the use of the omnibus by soldiers, servants, or any one in livery, and probably the death of Pascal himself, at the early age of thirty-nine, brought the enterprise to a premature end after the coaches had run nearly two years.