52 THE COACHING ERA 



could appreciate the points of their team, and converse 

 with them in the language of the road. 



"I talk to nobody about 'orses except lords," declares 

 the coachman in LavengrOy and Jem Howell considered 

 that a member of the nobility was a distin£l ornament to 

 a coach-box saying: "I like to have a lord about my coach, 

 it looks so respectable. " Besides a knowledge of horse- 

 flesh "Lords" had two other endearing qualities — they 

 made good listeners, and they tipped well. 



Lord Abingdon who was a noted whip often drove 

 the Blenheim coach with its celebrated team of greys, 

 but one day he had the box-seat he did not take the 

 ribbons, though the coachman offered them to him 

 with the conventional remark: "Now, my lord, have you 

 your driving-gloves on?" When the coach reached the 

 Gloucester Coffee House, Lord Abingdon gave the 

 coachman his fee, who looked at it disdainfully: 



"My lord, half a sovereign." 



"Yes, you see I did not drive." 



"But you might have, my lord," was the reproachful 

 reply. 



"Oh well, give it me back," said Lord Abingdon, 

 producing a sovereign. 



"Thank you, my lord, that's right. We don't do 

 things by halves on the Blenheim." 



The old coachmen and the swell dragsmen differed 

 greatly in externals, but had many traits in common, 

 among the most prominent of which was a strong pre- 

 disposition for "shouldering," which, in the expressive 

 slang of the road, meant carrying passengers whose 



