Thank you so so much! I knew I could count on COTH for some quick illumination!
I had the general idea, but the various anecdotes from the period were really confusing me. GTD, thanks, I couldn’t figure out where it hung from. I read one incident from the Sporting Magazine (English, circa 1820’s):
‘Some few years past I was travelling to Brighton, I think by the " Alert," at the time driven by a coachman named Pattenden. On pulling up at the extreme point of Reigate Hill, and being anxious to get the drag on, he did not do it securely. On starting rather brisk, whether it came in contact with a stone, or from what cause I know not, but it flew from the wheel it was placed on to the opposite one, and fixed as properly and securely as if placed by hand, in which manner we proceeded down the hill, in my opinion, a providential and singular circumstance, which perhaps, prevented a serious accident.’
Since I thought it hung from the side of the coach, that really baffled me. (Still seems pretty “singular” all right, but at least within the realm of possibility. How this passenger knew what had happened under the coach, I don’t know, either. Sounds a bit fishy all around actually.)
I went back over what I’d read about the guard being able to put on a skid from the perch, and I realize now I was confusing a description of an early brake with the skid, because they were talking about both. So yes, guards were apparently encouraged to put it on while moving (yeah, goodhors, the fingers! OUCH), though I have some other charming stories about stage coaches that left the stop w/o the coachman, for one reason or another, with passengers inside, and the horses ran to the next change, stopping at the top and bottom of each hill, and coming in so perfectly that the passengers never realized they had no driver.
goodhors, THANK you for finding that ebay item! I’d searched all over and all I could come up with were modern automobile and motorcycle things. Frustrating! That is extremely helpful.
As to the time period, we’re on the Royal Mail, 1825. I’m just in love with the mail-coaches. By 1837, they had the system timed so perfectly that the London-Edinburgh mail left at 8 pm every night but Sunday, and arrived in Edinburgh 42 hours later. The allowed time averaged 10 mph the whole distance of 400 miles, including stops, which meant for much of the time the heavily loaded 4-in-hand coaches were traveling at 12-14 mph.
Those guys were serious dudes. The guards worked for the Post Office, and had the responsibility to get the mail through on time no matter what. If something delayed the coach, they were to take one of the leaders and go on with the mail (leaving the passengers to their fate). More than one guard died trying to get mail through snowstorms when the coach was stuck in drifts. And that’s not even to mention the floods. Woe be to any horsekeeper who delayed the mail by not having the fresh team ready (the time allowed for changes dropped from 6.5 minutes in 1810 to 80 seconds by 1837, with changes commonly made in 45 seconds.) If a tollgate keeper was asleep (or drunk) and failed to have the gate open when they heard the horn, they would be heavily fined.
I’m writing a “close call,” something that turns out basically ok. Anecdotes suggest going downhill was a frequent source of accidents, so I’m hypothesizing a skid that doesn’t hold–it catches and then releases alternately, which was apparently fairly common, and made the top-heavy coach sway (“strike”):
I have before stated several objections to a locked wheel, with a top-heavy load; but I am indebted to that experienced coachman, Mr. Charles Buxton, for the following remark, communicated personally to me the other day. ‘If,’ said he, you must lock a wheel with a heavy load, and upon a smooth hard road, let it be the wheel next the ditch, or any other dangerous part. A coach, in going down hill, always strikes on the side that the wheel is not locked. I therefore think the coachman should keep as much as he can on that side of the road on which the wheel is locked; as, by crossing the road, if he meets, or has to pass, anything, his coach will not strike; and by holding that way, at any time, it will prevent her overturning.’ This is quite correct, as the coach naturally strikes in a direct line from the perchbolt.
(Annals of the Road, 1876)
Perchbolt being what the chain is attached to?
So in my little world, the skid isn’t catching, and the Bad Barmy Thoroughbred wheeler is shouldering the pole, which puts the team at an angle to the hill. Then something happens to the skid (flies off? breaks? just doesn’t work?) and the coach is tilting down the hill, almost toppling, alternately skidding down and going forward, with the entire weight on the nearside wheeler (Our Equine Heroine, a beautiful Yorkshire Coach Horse of Great Wisdom, Athleticism and Experience). At which point Our Hero (human variety), an inside passenger, jumps out and somehow manages to get a chain on the other wheel, which locks it and takes the pressure off the good wheeler, straightens the coach, and All Is Well. (Except the good wheeler has blown out her stifle, which means she’s can’t work the fast coaches anymore, and will be sold down the river, ie for a London cab. But never fear, Our Hero buys her, and she will live happily ever after, once her stifle heals up a bit, driving an elegant cart in the country for Our Human Heroine. But all this is come…)
Does that sound do-able? I don’t have to be very detailed, and frankly it’s just self-indulgence that I go into any detail at all, but I hate to write a horse scene that is completely off the wall.
Regarding brakes vs skids and wheel wear, I found this, from An Old Coachman’s chatter (1870’s):
It must be recollected that up to quite the latter end of the great coaching days no patent brakes were in use. They were not invented until about the year 1835, and were very slow in coming into use. I knew a case of the Post-office authorities refusing their sanction for the proprietors to have one attached to a mail coach at their own expense, because they thought it would break the contract with the coach maker, and I can quite imagine that the brakes were no favourites of those who miled the coaches, as there was not only the original cost, but the use of one has a considerable influence in wearing out the hind wheels.
DNJ, The Bavarian Stagecoach sounds like a blast!
On the other hand he also has to be alive for the happy ending.