200 THE COACHING ERA 



being determined at all costs to pass the Phoenix, and 

 the coachman of the Phcenix being equally determined 

 that he should not; the unhappy passengers despaired of 

 ever beholding Brighton, the Pavilion, or the Prince 

 Regent again. The race ended by coaches, horses, 

 passengers, and luggage coming together with a crash, 

 and it was undeniably a "case," that being the polite 

 term by which the coachmen referred to a thorough bad 

 upset. 



In Nimrod's The Life of a Sportsman^ James Howell 

 of the Birmingham day coach, who is thinly disguised 

 as Jem Powell, gives an account of the heartless behaviour 

 of an opposition coach: 



"A gentleman comes up to me t'other day, and 

 says: 'Jem, what will you take me to Birmingham for?' 

 'My fare, sir,' said I, 'is fifteen shillings.' 'I can go 

 by the Rora (Aurora),' said he, 'for ten.' 'No doubt 

 sir,' I replied, 'but then there's the doctor's bill!' 



"He went with me that very day they had an accident 

 with the Rora." 



"Of what description?" asked Lord Edmonston. 



"They was a galloping, my lord, against the opposition 

 which was behind them, and over they went." 



"And was anyone hurt?" 



"Several, my lord." 



"Of course the opposition stopped to afford assist- 

 ance to the passengers?" 



"Not a bit of it, my lord; one gentleman told me that 

 as he was in the adl of rolling away from the coach he 

 heard the opposition coachman sing out to the other 

 as he galloped by — 'What Joe, your bees are swarming 

 this fine morning, are they?'" 



