296 STAGE-COACH AND MAIL IN DAYS OF YORE 



have never troul)lecI to detail sucli tliing-s ; caring 

 only to narrate the 2^ecnliarly had or good coach- 

 man sliiji, as the case might he, or the eccentricities 

 in manner or dress, of the men ^vho drove tliem. 

 The merely efficient coachman, ^vith no salient 

 characteristics to l)e desci'i1)ed enthusiastically or 

 sintefully caricatured, stood little chance of notice 

 in print. He drove until the natural end of his 

 career came, or until it was cut short hy the 

 railway ; and in eitlier case ended ohscurely. 



On the other hand, the noted masters of the 

 art of driving a coach, who taught the young 

 hloods that accom])lishment, or who were excellent 

 comjmnions with joke and song to Avhile the 

 hours aAvay, have foniul ahundant notice ; and 

 they are the chronicles of these men that make 

 that apparent Avealth of reminiscence. 



The coachmen ended, as may he supposed, 

 very variously. A generation ago, many of the 

 city and suhurl)an omnil)uses Avere driven hy 

 gloomy, purple-faced men, confirmed misanthropes, 

 who vicAved the Avorld \vith jaundiced eyes, and, 

 living in vivid recollection of the past, despised 

 themselves, their oninil)uses, and the people they 

 drove. These AAcre the old coachmen. The 

 Pu'chmoml Conveyance Company, Avhose omnihuses 

 in the 'sixties conveyed many Londoners hetween 

 the " Goose and Gridiron," St. Paul's Churchyard, 

 and that famous riverside town, employed a 

 numhcr of old-time coachmen, Avho Avore tall 

 hats Avith a gold hand, and Avere never tii'ed 

 of telling their ])()x-seat 2><is«<3ngers ahout the 



