The nightly washing of omnibuses is an important matter, and the person who looks into an omnibus yard during the day would be surprised at its changed appearance if he were to see it late at night. About 10 o’clock the first omnibus arrives in the yard. On its way from the finishing point the conductor, lamp in hand, has searched the seats and floor of his omnibus, and found, perhaps, a stray penny. If he discovers a parcel, a purse, or anything of any value, he trudges off with it to the nearest police-station, bearing no grudge against the careless passenger who has made his walk necessary, for he knows that he will be rewarded, no matter whether the article is claimed or not. When the article is not claimed, he receives, eventually, a proportion of its value. If his search has proved fruitless, he and the coachman leave their omnibus as soon as it is in the yard, and depart for home, or the nearest public-house. But before they have quitted the yard the night men or “washers” have taken out the horses and led them into the stable. Sometimes they take them upstairs to bed. Then the washers unharness them and hang up the harness in the gangway. The collars, however, are hung under the number plates, for it is very necessary that every horse should have his own collar. The horses are then groomed, provided with food and water and secured for the night. The washers are now ready for the next ’bus, which has probably by this time entered the yard. From midnight until nearly one o’clock ’bus follows ’bus in quick succession. Each has its appointed position in the yard, so that there shall be no hitch in its getting out at the proper time in the morning. When the last omnibus has entered, the stable-gates are locked and the men sit down to their supper. It is a lively meal, and if the day has been a dry one and the ’buses are not very dirty, they linger over it. If, however, there has been much rain, they hurry through it, for a wet day means very hard work for them. The ’buses have to be swept and swabbed, the wheels, the body, and the windows have to be cleaned, the brass work polished, the cushions brushed, and the aprons shaken and sponged. For some hours the yard is full of noise and bustle.

At five o’clock the coachbuilder’s men arrive to test the wheels and thoroughly overhaul each omnibus, and in the event of their discovering any defect they repair it immediately. The coachbuilder’s men are followed by the veterinary surgeon, who examines the horses; and if he thinks that any of them should have a rest he gives instructions to that effect to the foreman.

About seven o’clock the coachman and conductor of the omnibus which came in first on the previous night arrive, the former carrying his whip and rug, the latter with his little tin box—which contains his bell-punch and tickets—under his arm. In a few minutes the bus leaves the yard for its starting point. ’Bus after ’bus now passes out, and by ten o’clock the yard has a deserted appearance, fowls and geese being almost in sole possession, until the first change of horses is made.

CHAPTER XII

Pirate Omnibuses—Their History and Tricks.

Pirate omnibusmen—the pests of the streets of London—although not quite so numerous as once they were, continue, practically unchecked, to defraud ladies, children, foreigners and other unsuspecting persons whom they succeed in enticing into their travelling plunder-traps. The disreputable doings of these rascals have been the cause of a very large proportion of the complaints which have been made against omnibuses during the last seventy years.

One of the secrets of Shillibeer’s early success was the care which he took to impress upon every man he employed the importance of politeness towards all passengers, and the seriousness with which he regarded any breach of that rule. But, in 1839, it was noticed that this high standard of politeness was not maintained by two or three conductors of the new omnibuses running from Paddington to the Bank, viâ Oxford Street. They overcharged passengers, and met any protests with a torrent of abuse. Frequently, when females only were in the omnibus, they brought their journey to an end before they reached their advertised destination, compelling the passengers to walk a considerable distance after paying their fares. Shillibeer was inundated with complaints, and at once took steps to make it known that the omnibuses referred to were not his property, although they bore his name and were painted and lettered in imitation of his vehicles. These were the first pirate omnibuses. To let the public know which really were his vehicles, Shillibeer at once had painted on them “Shillibeer’s Original Omnibus.” In a few days the same inscription appeared on some of the pirates with the word “not” preceding it in very small letters.

When Shillibeer started his ill-fated Greenwich omnibuses the pirates followed in his wake, and soon made their presence known by their impudent cheating and bullying of passengers. One night, in April, 1836, some people returning to London saw what they believed to be one of Shillibeer’s omnibuses ready to start. They entered it and sat down to wait until it was full. Within a quarter of an hour all the seats were occupied. But even then the omnibus did not start, for the conductor, in the bullying manner of his class, demanded the fares before the journey began. The passengers, anxious to get home, produced their money and tendered the usual fare—a shilling each. With a volley of oaths the conductor declared that the fare that night was eighteenpence. The passengers refused to pay the extra sixpence and threatened to report the conductor to Shillibeer for extortion and foul language, if he did not start the omnibus at once.

“Right away, Charlie,” the conductor shouted; but there was something in the way he uttered those three words which gave the coachman the tip what to do, for he drove off immediately, not towards London, but down a back street to a deserted part of Greenwich, where he pulled up.

Again the conductor demanded eighteenpence from each person, and some were disposed to pay it; but the people who were the first to enter the omnibus declined most emphatically to submit to the extortion, and prevailed upon their fellow-passengers to be equally firm. Soon some of them wished that they had not been so firm, for when the conductor found that he could not obtain more than the proper fare he bawled out, “It’s no good, Charlie. Let ’em walk to London.”