Now one of the chief obstacles in the way of rapid communication in our own country was the very unsatisfactory state of the roads. Down to the time of the introduction of mail-coaches, just about a hundred years ago, the roads were in a deplorable state, and travellers have left upon record some rather strong language on the subject. It was only about that time that road-making came to be understood; but the obvious need for smooth roads to increase the speed of the mail gave an impetus to the subject, and by degrees matters were greatly improved. It is not our purpose to pursue the inquiry as to roads, though the subject might be attractive, and we must be content with the general assertion as to their condition.
But not only were the roads bad, but they were unsafe. Travellers could hardly trust themselves to go about unarmed, and even the mail-coaches, in which (besides the driver and guard) some passengers generally journeyed, had to carry weapons of defence placed in the hands of the guard. Many instances of highway robbery by highwaymen who made a profession of robbery might be given; but one or two cases may repay their perusal. On the 4th March 1793 the Under-Sheriff of Northampton was robbed at eight o'clock in the evening near Holloway turnpike by two highwaymen, who carried off a trunk containing the Sheriff's commission for opening the assizes at Northampton.
In the Autobiography of Mary Hewitt the following encounter is recorded, referring to the period between 1758-96: "Catherine (Martin), wife of a purser in the navy, and conspicuous for her beauty and impulsive, violent temper, having quarrelled with her excellent sister, Dorothea Fryer, at whose house in Staffordshire she was staying, suddenly set off to London on a visit to her great-uncle, the Rev. John Plymley, prebend of the Collegiate Church at Wolverhampton, and Chaplain of Morden College, Blackheath. She journeyed by the ordinary conveyance, the Gee-Ho, a large stage-waggon drawn by a team of six horses, and which, driven merely by day, took a week from Wolverhampton to the Cock and Bell, Smithfield.
"Arrived in London, Catherine proceeded on foot to Blackheath. There, night having come on, and losing her way, she was suddenly accosted by a horseman with, 'Now, my pretty girl, where are you going?' Pleased by his gallant address, she begged him to direct her to Morden College. He assured her that she was fortunate in having met with him instead of one of his company, and inducing her to mount before him, rode across the heath to the pile of buildings which had been erected by Sir Christopher Wren for decayed merchants, the recipients of Sir John Morden's bounty. Assisting her to alight, he rang the bell, then remounted his steed and galloped away, but not before the alarmed official, who had answered the summons, had exclaimed, 'Heavens! Dick Turpin on Black Bess!' My mother always said 'Dick Turpin.' Another version in the family runs 'Captain Smith.'"
The Annual Register of the 3d October 1792 records the following case of highway robbery:—
"The daily messenger, despatched from the Secretary of State's office with letters to His Majesty at Windsor, was stopped near Langley Broom by three footpads, who took from him the box containing the despatches, and his money, etc. The same men afterwards robbed a gentleman in a postchaise of a hundred guineas, a gold watch, etc. Some light dragoons, who received information of the robberies, went in pursuit of the thieves, but were not successful. They found, however, a quantity of the papers scattered about the heath."
We will quote one more instance, as showing the frequency of these robberies on the road. It is mentioned in the Annual Register of the 28th March 1793.
"Martin (the mail robber), condemned at Exeter Assizes, was executed on Haldown, near the spot where the robbery was committed. He had been well educated, and had visited most European countries. At the end of the year 1791 he was at Paris, and continued there till the end of August 1792. He said he was very active in the bloody affair of the 10th August, at the Palace of the Tuilleries, when the Swiss Guards were slaughtered, and Louis XVI. and his family fled to the National Assembly for shelter. He said he did not enter with this bloody contest as a volunteer, but, happening to be in that part of the city of Paris, he was hurried on by the mob to take part in that sanguinary business. Not speaking good French, he said he was suspected to be a Swiss, and on that account, finding his life often in danger, he left Paris, and, embarking for England at Havre de Grace, arrived at Weymouth in September last, and then came to Exeter. He said that being in great distress in October he committed the mail robbery."
A rather good anecdote is told of an encounter between a poor tailor and one of these knights of the road. The tailor, on being overtaken by the highwayman, was at once called upon to stand and deliver, the salutation being accompanied by the presentation of two pistols at the pedestrian's head. "I'll do that with pleasure," was the meek reply; and forthwith the poor victim transferred to the outstretched hands of the robber all the money he possessed. This done, the tailor proceeded to ask a favour. "My friends would laugh at me," said he, "were I to go home and tell them I was robbed with as much patience as a lamb. Suppose you fire your two bull-dogs right through the crown of my hat; it will look something like a show of resistance." Taken with the fancy, the robber good-naturedly complied with the request; but hardly had the smoke from the weapons cleared away, when the tailor pulled out a rusty old horse pistol, and in turn politely requested the highwayman to shell out everything of value about him—his pistols not excepted. So the highwayman had the worst of the meeting on that occasion. The incident will perhaps help to dispel the sad reproach of the craft, that a tailor is but the ninth part of a man.
It should not be forgotten that these perils of the road had their effect in preventing intercourse between different parts of the country.