Rule II. Mounting The Box.

Rule II. Mounting The Box.

Put the forefinger of your right hand through the leading reins, and the third finger between the wheel reins, feel your wheel horses’ mouths lightly, take your near side reins a little shorter than your off, so that in case your horses attempt to start before you are properly seated, you have the reins all of the same length, and, being properly separated, you can put them into your left hand as quickly as possible, and at once have your horses under control; this will, if attended to, always prevent accidents. Some gentlemen get on the box and have the reins handed to them by a groom, who does not know how to separate them; this is not only an unbusiness-like, but a dangerous practice.

Rule I. Selection of The Team.

Rule I. Selection of The Team.

The first thing the pupil should do, is to select four horses as nearly as possible of the same temper. Never keep a puller, for it takes your attention from things that require all your care, makes your arm ache, in fact, does away with all pleasure. I should recommend hiring or purchasing four horses that will give you no trouble, and when you can pull them about, and do nearly as you please with them, you can then get your permanent team, which will require a very judicious selection, particularly if you intend to pride yourself upon colour as well as action. I was told by a gentleman, that he was ten years, getting a perfect team of black browns; he did not confine himself to price, and he certainly now has a very nice team and they ought indeed to be perfect, after all the time, labour and expense that have been bestowed upon them.

And in that period I have had some very narrow escapes

And in that period I have had some very narrow escapes

And in that period I have had some very narrow escapes

During the last twenty-five years I have been engaged keeping livery stables and breaking horses to harness, and in that period I have had some very narrow escapes. In one instance, the box of a new double break came off and pitched me astride across the pole between two young horses; I once had the top of the pole come off when driving two high-couraged horses; a horse set to kicking, and ran away with me in single harness. As I was of course pulling at him very hard, my feet went through the bottom of the dog-cart, he kicking furiously all the time. Fortunately I escaped with only a few bruises. On another occasion, in single harness, a mare began kicking, and, before I could get her head up, she ran against the area railings of a house in Princess Square, Plymouth, broke both shafts, and split the break into matches; myself and man nearly went through the kitchen window, into the arms of the cook; she did not, however, ask us to stop and dine.

I could mention many little events of a similar kind, and consider myself very fortunate in having never had anything more serious than a sprained ankle or wrist during my tolerably long career. I will now commence my instructions.

I had for some years given up driving regularly

I had for some years given up driving regularly

I had for some years given up driving regularly

I had for some years given up driving regularly, having taken the Horse Bazaar at Plymouth, where I used to supply officers of the garrison with teams, and give them instructions in driving; this I still continue to do, and in every variety of driving. It gives me, indeed, much pleasure to see many of my pupils daily handling their teams skilfully; not a few of them giving me good reason to be really proud of them, as I know they do me credit. In my description of my driving career, I stated that I had never had an accident; I ought to have said, no serious casualty, never having upset or injured any one; but I have had many trifling mishaps, such as running foul of a waggon in a fog, having my whole team down in slippery weather; on many occasions I have had a wheel come off, but still nothing that could fairly be termed a bad accident.

The railway opened to Plymouth

The railway opened to Plymouth

The railway opened to Plymouth

After a few years, the railway opened to Plymouth, and many gentlemen asked me to start a fast coach into Cornwall, promising to give it their patronage; I accordingly started the Tally Ho! making it a day coach from Truro to London, joining the rail at Plymouth; this was a very difficult road for a fast coach, but we ran it, till Government offered the contract for a Mail; we then converted the Tally Ho! into a Mail, and ran it till the rail opened to Truro. It will have been seen that I kept to coaching nearly as long as there were any coaches left to drive.

One party must ultimately give in

One party must ultimately give in

One party must ultimately give in

Still, in every contest, one party must ultimately give in; that one, however, was not the Telegraph. We settled our differences, and went on quietly for the remainder of the time, occasionally having a little flutter, as we used to call it in those days, but we were always good friends. Should this narrative chance to meet the eye of some of those who used to travel with us in bygone times, they will doubtless well remember the pace we used to go.

The proprietors of this vehicle

The proprietors of this vehicle

The proprietors of this vehicle

The proprietors of this vehicle, thinking that our’s would take off some of their trade, made their’s a London coach also, and started at the same time as we did. We then commenced a strong opposition. I had a very good man to contend against William Harbridge, a first-class coachman. We had several years of strong opposition, the rail decreasing the distance every year, till it opened to Exeter. The Nonpareil was then taken off, and they started a coach called the Tally Ho! against the poor old Telegraph. Both coaches left Exeter at the same time, and this caused great excitement. Many bets, of bottles of wine, dinners for a dozen, and five-pound notes, were laid, as to which coach would arrive first at Plymouth.

I had my old friend Harbridge again, as my competitor. The hotel that I started from, was a little farther down the street than the one whence the Tally Ho! appeared, so that as soon as I saw my friend Harbridge mounting the box, I did the same, and made the running. We had all our horses ordered long before the usual time. Harbridge came sailing away after me; the faster he approached, the more I put on the steam. He never caught me, and, having some trifling accident with one of his horses over the last stage, he enabled me to reach Plymouth thirty-five minutes before he came in. My guard, who resided in St. Albans-street, Devonport, hurried home, and as the other coach passed, he called out and asked them to stop and have some supper; they also passed my house, which was a little farther on, in Fore-street. I was sitting at the window, smoking, and offered them a cigar as they passed a joke they did not, of course, much relish. The next night they declared they would be in first; but it was of no use, the old Telegraph was not to be beaten. Thus it went on for several weeks; somehow they were never able to get in first. We did the fifty miles several times in three hours and twenty-eight minutes (that is, at the average rate of a mile in four minutes and nine seconds, including stoppages), and for months together, we never exceeded four hours.