“His conductors are famous for being polite, Obliging and civil, they always act right, For if just complaint only comes to his ear, They are not long conductors for George Shillibeer. “It was meant that they all should wear dresses alike, But bad luck has prompted the tailors to strike. When they go to their work, his men will appear _A la Française, Conducteur à Mons. Shillibeer_. “Unlike the conductors by tailors opprest, His horses have all in new harness been drest: The cattle are good, the men’s orders are clear, Not to gallop or race—so says Shillibeer. “That the beauties of Greenwich and Deptford may ride In his elegant omni is the height of his pride— So the plan for a railroad must soon disappear While the public approve of the new Shillibeer.” _Chapter the Tenth_ _MODERN CARRIAGES_ “Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam, afar Drag the slow barge, or urge the rapid car; Or on wide waving wings expanded bear The flying chariot through the realms of air.” _Erasmus Darwin._ The year of Queen Victoria’s Coronation saw the successful opening of the London and Birmingham Railway, and from that time all but a few obstinate folk recognised the fact that the horse as a necessary adjunct to cross-country travelling was doomed. For some time, indeed, certain ingenious gentlemen had been carrying out a number of experiments with self-propelled carriages. Fifteen years before, several inventors had produced cumbrous machines which, without requiring rails, were able to progress along the roads at speeds which compared favourably with those attained by the ordinary coaches. Sir Goldsmith Gurney—to mention, perhaps, the most prominent of these men—had patented a steam-carriage in 1827 which, in spite of attacks from an irate populace who feared machinery as they feared the devil, was quite successful enough to lead the enterprising Mr. Hanning to ask for, and obtain, permission to run similar machines on many of the principal roads of England. Indeed, for a short while, there seems to have been a regular service of these primitive automobiles. Many people, it is true, fought shy of Gurney’s boilers, which in spite of the fact that they had been “constructed upon philosophical principles” occasionally exploded. It was after such an explosion at Glasgow that Tom Hood seized the opportunity to write the following lines:— “Instead of _journeys_, people now May go upon a _Gurney_, With steam to do the horses’ work By power of attorney: “Tho’ with a load it may explode And you may all be undone; And find you’re going up to Heaven Instead of up to London.” Similarly, many people declared their intention of never patronising the railroads. Steam, however, had come to stay, and the days of coaching were already numbered.