Like many other old established institutions, they continued to have their advocates for a long time, and by some very competent judges bearing reins were considered necessary for safety, as will appear from the anecdote I am about to narrate. When they were first being dispensed with, Ned Cracknell, who drove a Birmingham day coach called the "Triumph," left them off. Upon the coach arriving at Hounslow one day, who should be standing there but Mr. Chaplin, commonly known as Billy Chaplin, the proprietor out of London, and before Cracknell had time to get on his box, though they were very quick in changing at Hounslow, he observed that there were no bearing reins, and only snaffle bits in the horses' mouths, whereupon he called out, "Hallo, Mr. Cracknell, what monkey tricks are these you are playing? If you don't put on the curb bits and the bearing reins, you don't take the 'Triumph' coach out of the 'Swan with Two Necks' again." Probably he was quite right about the snaffle bits, as the following instance will show:-- Seven mail coaches used to leave the "White Horse Cellars" every evening, and at one time there was a great rivalry between the Devonport mail, commonly called the "Quicksilver," driven by Captain Davies, and the Stroud mail, driven by Harry Downs, a broken-down gentleman, for here I may remark, though it is a fact well known to most people, that in those days it was no uncommon thing to see well-bred men driving stage-coaches. But to return. As the Stroud mail with four bright bays, and the "Quicksilver" with four bright chestnuts, were racing at a very merry pace, our friend Harry's bays, having only snaffle bits, bolted across Turnham Green, which would probably be a feat incapable of accomplishment now, and an old friend of mine, who was travelling by it, and by the bye a very good coachman himself, says, "I experienced a very unsmooth journey until we reached the road again, and by that time the 'Quicksilver' was through Brentford."