Old Coaching Days: Some Incidents in the Life of Moses James Nobbs, the last of the Mail Coach GuardsNobbs, Moses James
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Old Coaching Days: Some Incidents in the Life of Moses James Nobbs, the last of the Mail Coach Guards
Nobbs, Moses James
Nobbs, Moses James, 1817-; Postal service -- Great Britain -- Employees
In 1838 I was transferred to the Cheltenham and Aberystwith Mail, leaving
Cheltenham at 7.0 a.m. and arriving at Aberystwith at 9.0 p.m. I worked
this Mail for 16 years—from 1838 to 1854—and this was the most eventful
period of my career. The road ran through a fearful country, and we had
to go over Plinlimmon Mountain, the top of which is about 2,000 feet
above the sea level. We had many accidents and adventures with this
coach. For example, we left Hereford one market day, the wind blowing a
hurricane. When we reached St. Owen’s turnpike gate I saw that the gate
was closed, and blew the horn for the gatekeeper to open it. He threw
the gate wide open, when it rebounded and struck one of the leaders,
which so frightened the team that they got completely out of hand, and
galloped down the road as fast as they could lay feet to the ground. The
coachman was a very nervous man, and, finding he could not control the
horses or pull them up, he threw himself off the box into the road, with
the result that the back part of his head was dashed in. The horses, now
at full gallop, ran into a donkey cart in which an old woman and her
daughter were going home from market, and doubled it up completely. The
daughter heard the noise of the approaching coach and jumped out in time
to save herself, but the poor old woman was kicked to death before I
could cut the harness to release the leaders, which had fallen and got
mixed up with the remains of the cart. I had the bodies of the old woman
and the coachman placed on hurdles and carried to the Infirmary.
Meanwhile the leaders had broken loose from the coach and galloped on for
about two miles. They did further mischief by running into another cart,
but without doing any serious damage. There is little use reproaching
the dead, but it would have been a good thing for this poor coachman and
others if he had been as good a whip and possessed of as steady nerves as
the late Mr. Selby. If he had only stuck to his post—as every coachman
should in such circumstances—this sad accident might have been averted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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