Coaching Days & WaysCuming, E. D. (Edward William Dirom)
History
Coaching Days & Ways
Cuming, E. D. (Edward William Dirom)
Coaching (Transportation) -- England; England -- Social life and customs
'The coach arrives at Staines, and the ancient gentleman puts his
intentions into effect, though he was near being again too late; for
by the time he could extract his hat from the netting that suspended
it over his head, the leaders had been taken from their bars, and
were walking up the yard towards their stables. On perceiving a fine
thorough-bred horse led toward the coach with a twitch fastened tightly
to his nose, he exclaimed, "Holloa, Mr. Horse-keeper! You are going
to put an unruly horse in the coach." "What! this here 'oss?" growls
the man; "the quietest hanimal alive, sir!" as he shoves him to the
near side of the pole. At this moment, however, the coachman is heard
to say in somewhat of an undertone, "Mind what you are about, Bob;
don't let him touch the roller-bolt." In thirty seconds more they are
off--"the staid and steady team," so styled by the proprietor of the
coach. "LET 'EM GO! and take care of yourselves," says the artist, so
soon as he is firmly seated upon his box; and this is the way they
start. The near leader rears right on end; and if the rein had not been
yielded to him at the instant, he would have fallen backwards on the
head of the pole. The moment the twitch was taken from the nose of the
thorough-bred near-wheeler, he drew himself back to the extent of his
pole-chain--his forelegs stretched out before him--and then, like a
lion loosened from his toil, made a snatch at the coach that would have
broken two pairs of traces of 1742. A steady and good-whipped horse,
however, his partner, started the coach himself, with a gentle touch of
the thong, and away they went off together. But the thorough-bred was
very far from being comfortable; it was in vain that the coachman tried
to soothe him with his voice, or stroked him with the crop of his whip.
He drew three parts of the coach, and cantered for the first mile, and
when he did settle down to his trot, his snorting could be heard by the
passengers, being as much as to say, "I was not born to be a slave." In
fact, as the proprietor now observed, "he had been a fair plate horse
in his time, but his temper was always queer."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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