So far the legislature had only taken notice of coaches when new sources of revenue were being sought; but an eye was already upon their doings, an eye that had noted the increasing accidents, due to overloading, reckless driving, and a variety of other causes. It was not an official eye that thus ranged over the roads of the kingdom and marked the broken limbs and contusions of the lieges, acquired by falling from the roofs of coaches, by collisions and upsets: it was the stern gaze, indeed, of one Richard Gamon, a private member of Parliament, who in 1788, in the face of much opposition and ridicule, brought in a Bill to regulate stage-coaches. It is sad to think that even those who travelled largely by coach, whom Mr. Gamon desired to protect, made fun of his efforts, and, when his Bill at first failed to pass, rejoiced as greatly in the prospect of a continued free trade in broken necks and legs as ever the coach-proprietors themselves could have done. Some of this wit was very cheap stuff indeed. It largely consisted of torturing Mr. Gamon’s name into “Gammon,” and that done, the rest was easy. A morning newspaper found it possible to write thus:-- Whene’er a loaded stage drives by With more than it should draw, We view the outside group, and cry, “That’s contrary to law.” But all the folks who clamour thus Are totally mistaken, For Gammon’s Bill did never pass, So coachmen saved their bacon. Richard Gamon was a member for Winchester in five several Parliaments. He had been a commissioner for salt duties, but resigned that office to enter the House. He was created a baronet in July, 1795, and died, aged sixty-nine, April 9th, 1818. His Act was not forgotten, for in his obituary notice it is duly stated that “with him originated that useful and humane law for regulating the number of outside passengers on stage-coaches.” What with public ridicule of his original Bill and the petition of the coach-proprietors against it, Mr. Gamon and his legislative effort had, in one way and another, a stirring time. But in the same year he saw it pass into an Act, and two years later he procured an amended and stricter statute. So ridicule does not always kill.