Coaching, with Anecdotes of the Road

by Lord William Pitt Lennox

Lord Poltimore's team of roans were always up to the mark, and were such fast steppers that any one of them might justly have been termed the rapid Rhone. His Lordship had the smartness and quickness so essential in a thoroughly good dragsman.

Four such horses as Lord Grantley's were never put together in the days I write of—they were in every sense of the word matchless. They were purchased at four years old in Yorkshire, and stood nearly seventeen hands high, the colour Arabian grey, with black manes and tails. This was the only admissible case of switch tails; the size and figure of those splendid animals were a sufficient reason for their not being docked. The drag was not a drag, it was an old tub of a family carriage, unworthy the beautiful horses his Lordship drove.

Lord Suffield was the quickest and smartest coachman I ever sat on the box with, and never shall I forget a journey I took with him to Newmarket to attend the July Meeting. We started from "Grillon's Hotel" in Albemarle Street, where his Lordship resided, with four as nice cattle as ever the lover of driving could wish to sit behind; but upon reaching the first stage I found, to my dismay, that we were to proceed with posters for the rest of the journey. The team came forth from the yard, and were with some difficulty put to, for the near-side wheel, a mare, was somewhat cantankerous; there was a lurking devil in her eye which foreboded mischief. She took an exception, in the first place, to the pole pieces, and would not be coupled up; this, however, after a little dodging, leaning, and squealing, was achieved, and then came the start—or, rather, I should say the time for starting; not an inch, however, would she budge. She planted her fore feet at a most resisting angle in front of her, and there she stuck; the united forces of the leaders and her collaborateur, the offside wheeler, were insufficient to move her. Coaxing, persuasion, and all sorts of soothing arts were lavished on her in vain; and as the suaviter in modo failed the fortiter in re was tried, and with a better result, for after shoving, thumping, and double thonging, she suddenly bolted into her collar and started off at an awful pace. Suffield kept her head straight, though for miles nothing could stop her.

At last the nonsense was taken out of her, and we reached our destination in safety. The mare, as may be imagined, was in no very enviable plight; she shook from head to foot; but we afterwards heard that the lesson she had received was not thrown away, and that she ever after took kindly to her work.

Colonel Lincoln Stanhope had a good team, but he was not a first-rate whip. His brother Fitzroy was incomparably one of the best gentlemen-coachmen in England. Many an aspirant to four-in-hand celebrity was indebted to him for the knowledge in driving they possessed; and many a friend's life was saved by his presence of mind, coolness, courage, and skill, as I have already said.

Sir St. Vincent Cotton was a first-rate coachman; and, although he must be ranked among the genus irritabile, he possessed great coolness, which he invariably exercised when occasion required it. His horses got away with him more than once, as I can vouch for; but I know not the man with whom I would sooner be seated on the box under such trying circumstances. His strength of arm was prodigious; and, although not quite so showy or graceful a whip as some of his compeers, he was a steady and safe one.

Sir Henry Peyton was nulli secundus: he belonged to the old school; his team was always the same, and his horses were of the right sort—large ones in a small compass.

Captain Angerstein's turn-out was exceedingly neat, but his horses never had a fair chance, as he was continually changing them; and Captain Tollemache was first rate as an amateur whip. Many others are equally worthy of honourable mention, but I have confined myself to those I have sat beside on the box.

A fashion has lately sprung up amongst us, or rather, I should say, been adopted (for it is of American origin), and that is the almost total abolition of the bearing-rein. Much has been said, written, and argued pro and con.; some assert, and with truth, that, generally speaking, it is less safe, for as the best and soundest horse may once in twelve months make a mistake, the advocates for the loose rein cannot help to admit that a bearing-rein must assist the horse to recover himself under such circumstances. All extremes are bad, and no one would wish to torture an animal's mouth by pulling his head into an unnatural position, like a dromedary, with an excruciatingly tight bearing-rein; but, on the other hand, the absence of one is open to objection. Some horses may, and do, carry themselves so well that a bearing-rein appears superfluous; but, nevertheless, it may be useful, and for this reason should never be entirely dispensed with. I do not say that exceptions may not be permitted. Those possessed of thoroughbred horses, endowed with superior action, may indulge in any whim or caprice they like; and animals worth from four hundred guineas to six hundred guineas apiece, and which go with their heads up, of course do not require a bearing-rein, but I condemn the principle for universal adoption; and I have heard the opinions of some of the best coachmen of the day, both amateurs and professionals, who have asserted that for the generality of horses the practice is a dangerous one. Some animals' heads are put on differently from others, and consequently they vary in their mode of carrying them. Some, for instance, are star-gazers and appear to be taking lunar observations, while others poke their heads forward in such a longitudinal form that they resemble in this particular the Continental swine trained for grubbing truffles. The plan I should like to see adopted would be to have a bearing-rein with an elastic end to it, so that horses that did not require having their heads held well up would not be deprived of the ornament of such a rein, and even with horses that did require it, if the elastic was pretty strong, it would aid them in case of a trip or stumble.

In former days it was the custom to drive with wheel-reins home—that is, short to the hand; this was decidedly objectionable, especially in hilly counties; and, with groggy wheel-horses, not unattended with danger, for an awkward blunder might pull you from the box. The running-rein is now universally adopted, and in skilful hands is immeasurably superior to the old system. This is observable in the best-appointed fast coaches, of which there are happily still a few left, as well as private carriages.