HECTIC TIMES

Southland Times, Issue 22215, 6 January 1934, Page 12

HECTIC TIMES

PERILOUS ROADS. IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS. Modern transport compares favourably with the coaching days. This article from an English motoring monthly and written by David Le Roi, should help us to realize that we live in a day when the road is at its safest in history. Judging from the conversation of certain non-motorists, they would almost have you believe that until the advent of the petrol engine road accidents were unknown, and that in horsedrawn days the highway was a paradise for pedestrian and traveller alike. The most cursory glance at social history proves the sense of proportion in which any such statement is lacking. Then, as now, reputable transport contractors made every endeavour to guard their passengers against injury, and before any stage coach set out on a journey its axles, wheels, linch pins, and springs were thoroughly examined for defects. But such precautions failed to prevent accidents, and it was a common occurrence for an axle to break, a wheel to come off, or a pole to snap; while the ruts, which formed the principal feature of the roads, caused many a coach to overturn. Even if a traveller escaped these dangers, he still ran the risk of a horse casting its shoe, tripping over the traces, or bursting its harness. Unseen Perils. Carefully as horse and vehicle might be tested, there was always an added risk of the driver meeting with unknown perils, such as cows or donkeys straying on to the unlit road and there taking up their quarters for the night. Fog, too, was another terror with which the coachman had to contend, and in 1813 the southern mail reached Beiwick nearly a day late owing to’the driver having to lead his horses through the unpenetrable mist which enveloped the countryside. Edinburgh-Dumfries Adventure.

Like his modern brother of the peaked cap, the whip-wielding driver of the stage coach vzas frequently called upon for quick action when sudden dangei - imperilled the lives in his charge. . On one such occasion the driver of the Edinburgh to Dumfries mail had just changed horses and was proceeding down a steep hill, at the bottom of which was a sharp bend. Hardly had he commenced the descent before he made the discovery that the two wheelers had not the slightest notion of holding back. As is the way of horses they became frightened and communicated their terror to the rest of the team.

The faster the horses galloped, the more hopeless did it seem to avert the horror awaiting the load at the bottom of the hill. Any attempt to take the turn with the now racing team could only end in disaster. But, in the words of a contemporary:— “At this juncture the passengers observed a strange smile creep over the coachman’s face, while he gathered up the reins in the best style of the profession, at the same time lashing his horses ‘ into a good gallop. Terrorstruck the passengers saw nothing but destruction before them; yet they had no alternative but to await the issue. Opposite the foot of the hill was a stout gate leading into a field, and this was the goal of the driver had in view. Steadying the coach by keeping its course straight, he gave his horses all the momentum they could gather, and shot them direct at the gate.”

The gate was smashed to matchwood but the coach kept its wheels and, bounding into the field, at once drew up without injury to passengers or horses.

Racing Drivers.

Newspapers of the period, with their long lists of road accidents, are strangely familiar to modern readers, as the

following extract from the Liverpool Mercury for April 4, 1823, shows: “The dangerous and highly culpable system of racing, which has been so long and so justly complained of by all persons who have had occasion to travel on the road between and Carlisle, may, perhaps, meet a check from the circumstances we have this week to relate. On Monday last, two of these coaches, the Robert Burns and North Briton, were coming at their accustomed speed towards Preston from Liverpool, striving for the lead when the former was upset on Penwortham Bridge, and the driver and three outside passengers, falling against the battlement, were dreadfully mangled. “In coming down Pentwortham Hill, the North Briton was the first, but before they reached the bridge the Robert Burns passed its opponent. In rising the bridge, however, the horses of the other coach came abreast of the Robert Burns, which caused the driver to give additional impulse to his team. Having at this time to make a sudden turn, the coach lost its equilibrium and came down upon the right side with great force.” So it seems that the sin of overtaking is not new. As early as 1770, complaints were made regarding the overcrowding of stage coaches, the “Annual Register” for that year suggesting that “It were greatly to be wished that stage-coaches were put under some regulation as to the number of persons and the quantity of baggage. Thirty-four persons were in and about the Hertford stage this day when it broke, down by one of the traces giving way.” Fifteen years later the number of passengers a stage-coach might carry was limited by Act of Parliament, but this .regulation, together with a second in 1790, was ignored, and a committee appointed in 180 G to examine the whole question elicited some illuminating evidence. . Instead of the legal number of six passengers, many coach-owners were in the habit of squeezing twenty persons into their vehicles. The Results of Overcrowding.

Naturally, such overcrowding led to serious accidents and among the many examples recorded the following were typical:— “Last week the Croydon coach broke down by being overloaded, having sixteen outside passengers exclusive of the coachman, and two persons lost their lives, and several others were much bruised. Some little time ago the Ware coach broke down at Stamfordhill, one person was killed and several others received material hurt. The Portsmouth coach also broke down some time ago, and the coachman was killed.” When we read that “Scarce a w eek passes without some of those carriages breaking down, and often killing the unfortunate passengers,” we realize that out ancestors were not such angels of the road as some would have us credit.

The death at Marlow recently of Mr M. J. Schulte, joint founder with Mr S. Bettman of the Triumph Cycle Co., removes a figure intimately connected with the early days of the cycle and motor industries.

Scotland’s greatest engineering achievement, the new Glasgow, to Inverness road, is nearing completion and will be ready for traffic in a few weeks’ time. According to the official report, fifty-five bridges have had to be reconstructed, and on one section of the road measuring eight miles, 270,000 cubic yards of solid rock had to be removed. The cost of the road is estimated at £13,000 a mile.

Old inner tubes should not be discarded, for, although they may be too worn for keeping as emergency spares, they can be put to a variety of uses. One handy “gadget” which the amateur can easily manufacture is a small collapsible water carrier, which may be found valuable for refilling the radiator during a country tour. A suitable length of inner tube is taken and sealed together firmly at one end, either with tyre cement or by vulcanizing. A short rubber carrying strap, also cut from the old tube, can be riveted to the open end of the tube, and the result is a very useful container, which occupies but a very small space in a side pocket of the car.

C. J. P. Dodson, the famous racing motor cyclist, who was second in the recent lightweight T.T. race at over 70 miles per hour, has just added to his laurels by breaking five world’s records in the 250 c.c. class. His machine was the same model New Imperial which he used in the T.T. race. The records broken were as follows: 5 Kilos Flying start at 100.40 m.p.h., 5 Miles Flying start at 100.41 m.p.h., 10 Kilos Standing start at 94.99 m.p.h., 10 Miles Standing start at 96.90 m.p.h., 50 Kilos Standing start at 98.51 m.p.h. The 50 kilometre record previously stood to the credit of a Swiss machine at a speed of 93.61 m.p.h.

Major A. E. Phillips, D. 5.0., was recently elected chairman of the Triplex Safety Glass Company, Ltd., in place of Lieutenaut-Colonel O. C. Clare, D. 5.0., who died on August 20. Major Phillips, who joined the directorate in 1924, is a well-known sportsman and racehorse owner.

A quotation from “The Autocar” of 1899 has been causing considerable amusement among commercial vehicle operators in England, for the “villain of the piece” is one of the best-known persons in the industry to-day. The story in question described how Mr John Dennis was summoned for “furiously riding a motor tricycle” up Guildford High street. According to the evidence of a police sergeant the machine was travelling at the rate of 16 miles an hour, although the defence submitted that it was impossible for it to have reached this speed from the point where it started. However, the bench considered the pace “dangerous to the public,” and a fine of 20/- was imposed. The defendant of 1899 is now the joint managing director of a well-known firm of commercial vehicle manufactures, who commenced business in the very early days.