OLD COACHING DAYS. 179 



Dorchester. The only passenger was the coachman's wife, so 

 they both got inside and I drove them to Salisbury, where Billy 

 Chaplin, as he was called, got into the mail, which he horsed 

 himself, and, of course, the professional ought to have been 

 driving. I was just mounting the box when the guard said to 

 me, I don't know what to do with the calf.' ' Calf,' I said ; 

 ' what calf? ' He replied, ' I did not tell you before, but veal is 

 cheap in Dorchester and dear in London, and there's a crown 

 to be got out of that calf, only the London butchers like them 

 alive ; but now that Billy is inside perhaps I had better cut its 

 throat, as if he hears it " bah ! " I might get into trouble for 

 carrying it in the hind boot.' I replied, ' Leave the calf alone. 

 I will drive very steadily out of the town, and in less than twenty 

 minutes our only inside, barring the calf, will be fast asleep.' I 

 think it only fair to add that both our insides behaved very 

 well, as we heard no more of either of them till we reached 

 Piccadilly, when Mr. Chaplin jumped into a cab, the calf was 

 dropped into the bottom of the mail-cart under the bags, and 

 carried off to Newgate Street. 



I was often asked in those days why, being so fond of 

 driving, I did not keep a coach and team of my own. My 

 reply was : ' In the first place, consider how much more practice 

 there is in driving road-coaches with all sorts of horses ; a 

 man must become a judge of pace, which is not only useful 

 but necessary ; and then again one learns how to put horses 

 together.' A man's own team is all very well for ten or twelve 

 miles, but in driving a hundred miles he has the variety of 

 ten or twelve teams, likewise of all sorts of ground, and again 

 of driving horses with all sorts of mouths, all sorts of tricks 

 and all sorts of tempers. I drove the Basingstoke coach 

 wnenever I could, frequently three days a week. It ran long 

 stages. The coach stood at Gerrard's Hall, near St. Paul's, 

 and ran from there to Bedfont, fifteen miles ; thence to 

 Bagshot, thirteen ; Hartley Row, thirteen ; Odiham, four ; 

 Basingstoke, six. It was considered a slow coach, but it was 

 not so in reality. It left the Cellar at half-past nine, reaching 



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