Wherever traps and spring guns were laid, being on horseback was no better than walking, but riding could be hazardous on the open road as well. In late January 1773, after spending a convivial afternoon with friends at Cole in Somerset, Woodforde and his brother returned to Ansford Parsonage:
Brother John got quite merry and coming home was thrown from his horse, but blessed be God received no great hurt. His horse run away home…I walked with him home and led my horse in my hand. I was most miserably terrified by his fall, he riding in so disagreeable a manner as to frighten me every step till he was thrown. It was a great mercy of thine O God that he was not killed, as there was a waggon not twenty yards before him when he fell and the horse full stretch almost…My man Willm. also met with an accident this evening at my door in his return from Cole. Soon as the chaise stopped, the horse which he rode fell down and bruised his leg much. The horses breath was stopped by the harness.10
Because so many men and some women rode horses and donkeys, alighting stones (mounting blocks) were common in public places, such as by churches or in market squares, and at Moretonhampstead in Devon in 1800, Silvester Treleaven noted: ‘A new alighting stone erected at the lower end of the Shambles by subscription.’11 Gentlemen wore spurs when riding, but the Reverend William Holland was annoyed to discover his manservant using them: ‘Mr Robert among his other excellencies has been in the habit of wearing my spurs. I have once or twice had a hint of his riding hard and now I have found out the method he takes to get his horse on.’12 Servants were not always reliable riders, as Woodforde also found: ‘Ben went yesterday in the afternoon with a Mr. Watson steward to Sr. John Woodhouse to Kimberly Hall, where having made too free with the Baronets strong beer, fell of[f] his horse coming home and lost her, so that he walked about all the night after her and did not find her till about noon, she was found at Kimberly in a stable of Mr. Hares, a boy happening to see and put her in there.’13
Like modern vehicles, horses required much maintenance, as did carts and carriages. Apart from food, water, grooming, stabling, harness and veterinary care, horses needed to be properly shod. This was not a problem near home, close to familiar blacksmiths, but a cross-country traveller might have to make ‘running repairs’, like John Byng soon after leaving Basingstoke:
In a miles riding I overtook a conversable farmer, and we jogged on together being both bound for Reading; but soon, oh grief of griefs! my horse went miserably lame as if he had wrenched his foot; the farmer said it would walk off but the poor beast being unable to move, I dismounted to examine his foot, into the frog of which a great horse-nail had enter’d so deeply that with difficulty we extracted it. As soon as possible we stop’d at a blacksmith’s, who burnt in some turpentine, which, secured by tow, enabled my horse to go on tolerably.14
Horses and other pack animals were the only option for haulage in some parts of England, because wheeled vehicles were impossible on narrow, winding and steep roads. In counties such as Devon and Cornwall, the roads tended to be simply packhorse trackways. In the summer of 1795, John Manners travelled westwards from Devon into Cornwall: ‘To-day we for the first time observed the husbandmen bringing in their barley and oats…The manner in which they carry their harvest in Cornwall is very curious. Having no carts on account of their hills, they make use only of little ponies, and carry their loads in a kind of pannier, placed like a saddle on the horse.’15
Coal was carried from the north Somerset mines into Bath using donkeys, and in September 1800 Richard Warner saw one of these animals at work, delivering to the grand houses, a ‘little, wasted, panting wretch, staggering under its unconscionable burthen, and labouring up the steep streets of Bath; now dropping with fatigue, and again urged to exertion by reiterated blows’.16 The animals, he explained, were kept overnight at nearby Holloway:
Wearied and panting with the labour of the day, here the wretched beasts are driven…as the evening closes, into yards hired for the purpose, not so much for the sake of rewarding their services with rest, as to prevent their escape from the toil of tomorrow. As they pick a scanty pittance from the ditches and hedges during the day, the inhuman master thinks himself exempted from the necessity of giving them food at night; and what is still more barbarous, never removes from their backs the heavy and incumbering wooden saddle on which the coals are packed, but suffers it to continue girded on for weeks together, inflaming and increasing those galls which its pressure originally occasioned.17
Normally, goods were conveyed in carriers’ carts and waggons. Long-distance carriers made cross-country trips using large waggons pulled by six or eight horses, and some operated in the same way as stagecoaches, changing horses at wayside stops and claiming to be a fast service with names like ‘Flying Waggon’, even though their speed was slower than walking pace. Although these waggons primarily carried freight, they could also accommodate passengers. Other than walking, this was the cheapest means of travel and gave some shelter from the weather. A household might own horses and a small cart for transporting passengers and for haulage, and on one occasion Holland noted: ‘My daughter [Margaret] is to return with the two Miss Lewis’s and (because they cannot procure a better conveyance) to go in my cart. Robert is to drive.’18 At other times this cart was involved in tasks like moving dung, hay, timber and coal.
Wealthy gentry and the aristocracy would own at least one carriage that was solely for passengers, but their horses might be used for riding and farm work as well. Small carriages that were open to the elements were not suited to winter conditions, as with the donkey carriage used at Chawton by Jane Austen: ‘this is not a time of year [January] for donkey-carriages, and our donkeys are necessarily having so long a run of luxurious idleness that I suppose we shall find they have forgotten much of their education when we use them again. We do not use two [donkeys] at once however; don’t imagine such excesses.’19 Only the very rich could afford the cost of keeping large, enclosed carriages, emblazoned with their coats-of-arms, along with teams of horses and liveried servants.
There was a trade in secondhand carriages, and in London in May 1806 Ralph Heathcote accompanied a friend who was looking for something suitable to buy: ‘We went out to look at carriages, T. [Colonel Taylor] meaning to buy a chaise…We went to all the principal coachmakers. The average price for a second-hand chaise still in fashion (about two years ago) and good order, newly painted, etc., is £150.’20 Then, as now, sellers emphasised the vehicle’s good condition, and the following year this ‘one careful lady owner’ advertisement appeared in the Morning Chronicle:
COACH to be DISPOSED of, late the property of a lady, deceased; has been built but a few months, in the present stile, compass sides and projecting elbows, the lining and every part in the nicest condition, and scarce inferior to new, painted yellow and black, built by Hatchett and Co. at a considerable expence, and to be disposed of for about one-third of the original cost, at Turner’s, coach-maker, opposite Shoreditch Church.21
With no restrictions on who could drive a vehicle, carriage drivers varied enormously in their abilities. Young aristocratic men had a reputation for driving fast and often irresponsibly, but elderly drivers could equally pose a hazard, as Woodforde observed:
Mr. Du Quesne returned to his own home to dinner, though we asked him to dine with us…He complained much of being terribly shook about in his chaise by the badness of the roads…Mr. Du Quesne is very far advanced in years but he will not own it. He is by no means fit to drive a single horse chaise. His servant man that came on horseback with him, was afraid that he would overturn coming along, he cannot see the ruts distinctly, he will not however wear spectacles at all. He cannot bear to appear old.22
This was the Reverend Thomas Roger du Quesne, who died four months later at the age of seventy-five.
For long journeys across England, people resorted to public transport, of which the stagecoach was the most popular. These were roofed four-wheeled vehicles, driven by coachmen at speeds of 6–7 miles per ho
ur and running to a schedule on established routes. The term ‘stage’ referred to each stage of the journey between the points where the horses were changed. To Moritz, stagecoaches seemed strange: ‘Persons, to whom it is not convenient to pay a full price, instead of the inside, sit on the top of the coach, without any seats, or even a rail. By what means passengers thus fasten themselves securely on the roof of these vehicles, I know not; but you constantly see numbers seated there, apparently at their ease.’23
When he first arrived at Liverpool from America in May 1805, stagecoaches were also a novelty to Benjamin Silliman: ‘people ride on the roofs of the English stage coaches. This situation affords fine views of the country, and is often a convenient refuge when the inside places are all taken. I mounted the roof, and although the situation was so giddy, that at first I grasped the iron railing with great care, I soon learned to hold my arms in security, trusting to the balance of position.’24
The horses slowed or stopped these vehicles – there were no brakes. In hilly areas Silliman noted that wheels would be chained: ‘They took the wise precaution of chaining a wheel at the top of every steep hill, a practice which is common in England, and which is rendered doubly necessary by the great weight of people and luggage which an English stage coach carries on its roof. I have been one of a party of eighteen, twelve of whom were on the top.’25 Unsurprisingly, the stagecoach was not always a safe means of transport, especially when coachmen drove their overloaded vehicles recklessly over potholed and rutted roads. In 1816 the European Magazine reported attempts at improvements:
The country magistrates are exerting themselves to bring to punishment all drivers of stage coaches within their jurisdiction, who shall be found furiously driving, or shall carry more passengers than allowed by law. The following are among the various penalties to which the offending parties are liable:– Coachmen driving furiously, or permitting others to drive, forfeit 10l [£10].
TEN passengers allowed on the outside of a carriage, drawn by four horses, besides the coachman: ONE only to sit on the BOX, THREE on the FRONT of the roof, and SIX BEHIND; a penalty of 10l. for each passenger beyond that number and DOUBLE that sum if the coachman is owner or part owner.
LUGGAGE not to EXCEED TWO FEET in HEIGHT ON THE ROOF; penalty 5l/ [£5] for every inch above two feet. No passenger to SIT on the LUGGAGE; penalty 50s. to be paid by the passenger.26
Travelling inside a stagecoach was more costly, but it was safer and gave shelter from the weather. The lurching motion could cause nausea, and being inside also meant suffering other passengers. In 1802 Henry Hole was on his way to India, and he wrote to his father about the stagecoach journey from Exeter to Plymouth:
We had scarcely got through the City when the coach suddenly stopp’d, the door opened and an overgrown female of the Wapping breed made her appearance, puffing and panting as if she had not half an hour to live. A considerable difficulty then arose how she was to get in. I look’d at her and the door alternately, and really conceived it impossible; however, by a little squeezing and a great deal of shoving in the rear by the coachman [the driver] and guard assisted by half a dozen by-standers she contrived to effect her purpose in something less than a quarter of an hour. We screw’d ourselves up in each corner and allowed her to take the middle, when she sat or rather fell down with the grunt of a rhinoceros and remained a complete fixture for the whole journey. Not so her tongue; for the moment she recovered a sufficiency of breath, she attack’d me in a most barbarous dialect.27
In addition to the driver, there was also a guard, as Silliman explained: ‘Most of the English stage coaches travel with a guard. He is armed with a blunderbuss, or more commonly with pistols…To the duty of defending the coach he is rarely called for; for…the stage coaches are seldom attacked. Besides guarding the coach, he is expected to open and shut the door, and aid in case of accident, so that the coachman is never called upon to leave his seat.’28
In the event of a stagecoach overturning, the outside passengers were flung off and would undoubtedly suffer injuries, while those inside could be trapped, crushed or even drowned. Newspapers were full of coaching incidents, as in The Times in December 1807:
As the Salisbury coach was coming to town [London], on Tuesday night, it met with a shocking accident. The fog was so thick that the coachman could not see his way, and at the entrance of Belfont [now Bedfont, near Hounslow], the horses went off the road into a pond called the King’s Water, dragging the coach along with them. A young man of the name of Williams was killed on the spot. He belonged to a regiment of dragoons…In the inside of the coach were four females: the wife of the deceased, her maid, a Swiss governess who lived in the family of a gentleman in Davies Street, Berkeley Square, and another female. They all narrowly escaped drowning.29
Given such disaster stories, it is no wonder that Woodforde wrote in his diary on 6 July 1778: ‘My poor dear sister shook like an aspin leave [aspen leaf] going away, she never went in a stage coach before in her life.’30
For faster journeys or ones not on stagecoach routes, post-chaises could be hired at post-houses, which were usually inns. ‘Post’ was equivalent to ‘stage’. These chaises (literally, ‘chairs’) were roofed four-wheeled vehicles, yellow in colour. Their speed was maintained by frequent changes of horses, and like stagecoaches, they had no brake. The drivers rode on the horses, not on the chaises, and were called postillions or post-boys, even though they were usually men. In early June 1782, Moritz took a chaise from Dartford to London:
these carriages are very neat, and lightly built, so that you hardly perceive their motion, as they roll along these firm, smooth roads; they have windows in front, and on both sides. The horses are generally good, and the postillions particularly smart and active, and always ride on a full trot. A thousand charming spots and beautiful landscapes, on which my eye would long have dwelt with rapture, ere now rapidly passed with the speed of an arrow.31
He may not have noticed some of the faults that the experienced horseman and carriage driver John Byng railed against two years later:
My nerves are either so weak or my fears so overpowering, that I never (but from necessity) ride in an hackney post-chaise; jolted, winded; harness that don’t fit, horses that won’t draw; and left at the mercy of an ignorant, drunken post-boy, who cannot drive, and is everlastingly brutal to the poor beasts under his lash. Young gentlemen are ever in violent haste to hurry to nothing; and laugh when I desire a post-boy not to gallop; not to hurry down hill; or to abstain from cutting at the horses eyes!32
In Somerset William Holland occasionally hired a chaise for local journeys as in January 1807 when he and his wife were driven home from Enmore to Over Stowey along narrow lanes:
We…got on very well till we came past Radlet Common when we met a loaded waggon in a narrow part of the road. The waggoner did all he could to close the waggon up to the hedge but when we drove on a little the chaise driver began to doubt our being able to pass, especially as there was an ugly ditch on our side. I call’d and told him it would be best to get out. You cannot, returned he, get out in this dirty place. Oh cannot we, answered I, I’ll warrant you, for I deemed it far better to dirty our shoes and get wet than to be overturned and get our limbs broke, so out we got, but it was with some trouble and danger that they were able to pass afterwards. After this we got to Overstowey safe without further obstructions.33
From the 1790s onwards horse-drawn omnibuses were operating in London, from which modern buses developed, but the most common form of public transport in towns was the hackney coach, the forerunner of the hackney cab or taxi. The word ‘hackney’ meant a horse, or a horse for hire.34 Hackney coaches tended not to be purpose-built vehicles until around 1814, when the ‘chariot’ was introduced, which carried two passengers inside and one outside. Before that, hackney coaches were usually old or worn-out private carriages, and their comfort varied considerably, as did the fares charged, which led to constant disputes. A succession of regulations tried �
�� in vain – to control the exploitation of passengers by cabmen.
Particularly for elderly or invalid passengers, sedan chairs (also called hackney chairs if they were for hire) were an option. The sedan chair had a seat for a single passenger set inside a structure resembling a small sentry-box. A stout pole on either side provided the carrying handles for two chairmen, one in front and one behind. Chairmen waited at stands to catch passing trade, and a 1790 manual of advice for those staying in London said that the fares were a shilling for the first mile and sixpence for every subsequent mile. In cases of grievance, the customer should ‘take the number of the chair, which is fixed just under the top, near the hinge, and complain at the hackney-coach office’.35
John Byng was not impressed by this form of transport at Cheltenham: ‘their fare is very exorbitant; and as the master of ceremonies [at the spa pump rooms] dares not, and the company care not to make alterations, many such exactions and abuses continue here unrectified.’36 Even this sedate method of travel carried risks, as revealed in a letter from William Jenkin to a friend: ‘Thy mother met with an accident this week – as two men were carrying her in her chair, she slid out of it and fell to the ground, by which she received some hurt, one of her legs is bruised and she is likely to be confined to her room for some time.’37
For those who could afford the fare, sedan chairs were invaluable in towns in bad weather to avoid having to walk through filthy streets. Urban authorities were making some effort to install paved walkways or pavements for pedestrians, at least in the main thoroughfares, and London was sometimes hailed as the best paved city in Europe. Certainly Moritz was impressed by the capital’s streets:
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