Although, as previously stated, open attacks were not often made upon the coaches, robberies of the bags conveyed by them were quite common--chiefly at night--and we may assume that they were made possible through the carelessness of the guards. It would be a long story to go fully into this matter. Let a couple of instances suffice. On the last day of February 1810, in the evening, a mail-coach at Barnet was robbed of sixteen bags for provincial towns by the wrenching off the lock while the horses were changing. And on the 19th November of the same year seven bags for London were stolen from the coach at Bedford about nine o'clock in the evening. The authorities had a good deal of trouble with the mail guards and coachmen, and the records of the period are full of warnings against their irregularities. Now they are admonished for stopping at ale-houses to drink; now the guards are threatened for sleeping upon duty. Then they are cautioned against conveying fish, poultry, etc., on their own account. A guard is fined L5 for suffering a man to ride on the roof of the coach; a driver is fined L5 for losing time; another driver, for intoxication and impertinence to passengers, is fined L10 and costs. The guards are entreated to be attentive to their arms, to see that they are clean, well loaded, and hung handy; they are forbidden to blow their horns when passing through the streets during the hours of divine service on Sundays; they are enjoined to keep a watch upon French prisoners of war attempting to break their parole; and to sum up, an Inspector despairingly writes that "half his time is employed in receiving and answering letters of complaint from passengers respecting the improper conduct and impertinent language of guards." A story is told of a passenger who, being drenched inside a coach by water coming through an opening in the roof, complained of the fact to the guard, but the only answer he got was, "Ay, mony a ane has complained o' that hole," and the guard quietly passed on to other duties. Railway travellers are familiar with an official at the principal through stations whose duty it seems to be to ring a bell and loudly call out "Take your seats!" the moment hungry passengers enter the refreshment-rooms. How far his zeal engenders dyspepsia and heart disease it is impossible to say. In the mail-coach days similar pressure was put upon passengers; for every effort was made to hurry forward the mails. In a family letter written by Mendelssohn in 1829, he describes a mail-coach journey from Glasgow to Liverpool. Among other things he mentions that the changing of horses was done in about forty seconds. This was not the language of mere hyperbole, for where the stoppage was one for the purpose of changing horses only the official time allowed was one minute.