OLD COACHING DAYS.

Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 579, 8 October 1932, Page 26 (Supplement)

OLD COACHING DAYS.

E. M. LOVELL-SMITH.)

Halswell, Tai Tapu and Lincoln Route Described. STORY OF “HELL-FIRE JACK.”

(By

COACHING in the Halswell, Tai Tapu and Lincoln districts began as early as October 17, 1864, when Messrs Bruce and Coe, who ran a coacli between Lyttelton and Christchurch, opened a coach service from Christchurch to Prebbleton, via Halswell. The coach, a spring cart drawn by two horses, left their office in Gloucester Street, opposite the “ Lyttelton Times,” at 9 a.m. and 3.30 p.m. daily; and returned from Waterlow’s, Prebbleton, at 10.15 a.m. and 5 p.m. Travelling along Lincoln Road, it reached Spreydon at 9.30, the Junction Hotel, Halswell, at 9.45, and Waterlow’s at 10 o’clock.

We know very little of that coach. It may have been the “Albert car,” which the firm used on Ferry Road. The Albert car was an Australian two-wheeler, used extensiyely in Melbourne during the ’sixties as a street cab. It had two seats, back-to-back, accommodating five passengers and a driver; and a hood or canopy, supported by radiating stays from the centre of each side. A pair of shafts enabled it to be drawn by one horse, but frequently an outrigger horse was added to draw this picturesque vehicle. However, whether the coach was this type of car, or a plain box cart, the fact remains that it met with an accident on November 18 the same year. It was travelling along Cashel Street, when a trace-link broke, and the trailing strap so frightened the horse that it commenced to play up, upsetting its companion, which bolted also. Rounding the corner, the runaway horses galloped at full speed along Oxford Terrace.

The driver, finding that he had lost control of his horses, advised a lady passenger with a child to endeavour to get out of the vehicle. This she succeeded in doing, escaping by the back. Shortly afterwards the driver was thrown out, landing on his shoulder with great force. The horses continued on their course, coming to a standstill at the Lincoln Road toll-bar. Fortunately no one was seriously injured. Bruce and Coe’s coach service lasted, presumably, for three months, for after the end of December, 1864, we can find no mention of it. It seemed to fade out of the picture. Effect of the Gold Rush.

Probably the influx of gold-diggers from Otago and elsewhere diverted the coach service to the North Road, where there was urgent demand for conveyances of every description to carry the gold-seekers to the Hurunui, en route for the West Coast via Harper’s Pass and the Teramakau.

Be that as it may, four years later, Mr J. J. Herrick announced that on and after November 21, 1868, his coach would leave Lincoln at 7.30 a.m. on Saturdays and Wednesdays for the White Hart, Christchurch, and leave there on the return journey at 3.30 p.m. the same days. Herrick was a Londoner by birth, and his people had settled in Nelson in 1842. He was a man of energy and enthusiasm, and had been on the Australian goldfields as a young man. Returning to Nelson, he settled down to farming, and in 1863 came to Canterbury with his wife and young family. Taking up land at Tai Tapu, he drained and cleared it, and opened the first store in the district. Herrick’s Coach.

The coach service enabled him to obtain supplies for the store. The conveyance was a steel-springed vehicle with seats lengthwise inside, and a door at the back.

It seated eight comfortably inside, and three beside the driver; but was capable of holding almost twice the number when required. The team, when the load was light and roads were dry, consisted of three horses, two at -the pole and one in the lead, but when required, a four-horse team was used. Luggage and boxes were placed on the roof of the coach.

Herrick’s coach met with no serious accidents, with no “ flash ” driver showing off his skill in handling a four-in-hand team. Neither did the horses prance on their hind legs when harnessed to the coach; but they gave steady, reliable service, to the great satisfaction of the farming folk of the district. It would be too quiet a service for those “ Flash Charlies ” who must have a team of thoroughbreds, and lively company on box-seat and roof.

In 1869 Herrick secured the mail contract and thereafter carried mails and passengers year in, year out His son, Mr John Herrick, now of Spreydon, tells how he used to get the letters for his father’s coach. The Southbridge coach left Cobb’s office half an hour earlier than the Tai Tapu conveyance, and young John would hop on to Joe Macfarlane’s coach and ride to the old Post Office in Market Square. Picking up the letters, he would ride on the steps back to the Triangle and carry them along to his father's coach. At 3.30 p.m. exactly Herrick left the White Hart Hotel and turning the corner proceeded along Cashel Street,

picking up a belated passenger, who climbed into the coach in breathless haste; then along Oxford Terrace, before finally turning into Lincoln Road. One can see the picture of that coach leaving the town, the plump staunchlooking horses, one of them a grey, jogging along at a steady trot, and tossing their heads occasionally; the coach, with its curtains rolled up—it is November. It jolts slightly as it goes over the uneven surface of the road; ‘the passengers gaze into space, save when their attention is diverted by the snore of a man asleep in the corner. Two farmers in subdued tones exchange views on ‘the market prices, and a young mother, with a child huddled against her breast, looks wistfully at a small boy sitting opposite. The boots of the passengers show traces of mud, and the straws adhering to the small boy’s feet, show that he has been to the pig market. On '‘the box seat can be seen from the inside the rounded backs of three passengers engaged in conversation with the driver who nods his head and keeps a wary eye on team and road. Kohler’s Gardens. They pass the site of Kohler’s Gardens where “al fresco ” entertainment and refreshment, chiefly of a liquid nature, were formerly dispensed to its patrons, and then they cross the railway line at Addington. As the coach travels along the road, the swamp on the left, with its flax, niggerheads, raupo, toi-toi, etc., stretches to the hills. The long, narrow track traversing it, Wilderness Road, leads to Sir Cracroft Wilson’s homestead, Cashmere. In after years it is to be widened and graced by the name of Barrington Street. On the right lies the site of the future Showgrounds, and tf e Twigger estate. This, too, is swamp, and as the coach rolls by, a swamp hen is seen making for cover. Further along the road, at the ford, is the embryo township of Spreydon, which takes its name from the steading of Mr Samuel Garforth, and after leaving this, the Junction Hotel, at Halswell, is seen in the distance apparently blocking the road. Here Mr Herrick pulls up his team, and passengers get down to stretch their legs and partake of refreshment. A groom gives the horses a drink, and they champ their bits and shake their bridled heads. A passenger, having paid his fare, takes his bundle off the coach and enquires the way to a farm in the district. A smartly dressed commercial traveller, with a valise, climus on board, and the five minutes being up, the driver gathers up the reins, looks round to make sure his passengers are all in their places again, and releases the brake. “Clk! Clk!” and the coach is on the move as the horses once more come into alignment. “ Hell-fire Jack.” Conversation brightens up and tongues are loosened. The commercial gentleman refers to a recent visit to Australia, and the goldfields in Victoria. Presently the talk turns upon Australian coachdrivers, and as Herrick steers his coach carefully over a bog hole in the road, the traveller remarks, “ Did you ever hear that story of ‘ Hellfire Jack’ and the curate? You haven’t, eh. Well he is one of Cobb’s drivers over there, and they were telling the yarn at the Bull and Mouth in Melbourne when I was there. “ He was driving one day and had inside the coach—an ordinary thoroughbraced Yankee vehicle, with cross seats—-a bashful young curate sitting opposite an extremely pretty girl of about twenty. “ Both kept looking away from each other, and their faces wore the strained expression common to self-conscious young people, who haven’t been introduced, and are afraid to speak; but the young parson was the more timid of the two. “ Now * Hell-fire Jack,’ as you may guess from his name, is one of those fellows always up to devilment of some kind or other, and it was not long before he ‘ twigged ’ how matters lay between the curate and the young girl inside the coach. Then his left eyelid slid down over his large brown orb, and shot back again. “ ‘ Watch me make the curate kiss the girl! ’ he said to the box-seat passengers.

“ He was driving down a hill at the time, and the coach was rapidly approaching a small stream at the foot. Without slackening speed, he drove straight for it; and as the coach wheels struck the stream with a terrific bounce, the forms of curate .and maiden, for a brief moment, were

locked together in one wild embrace! “ To the accompanying roar of laughter from the box-seat passengers, the left eyelid again slid down over the large brown eye of ‘ Hell-fire Jack.’ ” At the conclusion of the story laughter and smiles go round, and the man asleep in the corner wakes up with a start. Herrick’s eye glints, and he turns to the commercial and engages him in conversation on the state of commerce in the Victorian colony. Delivery of Parcels. A newspaper is thrown at a wayside gateway, and further is seen the crinolined figure of a woman waiting for the coach. The brake goes on, and the horses stop. Twisting the reins round the brake lever, Herrick stands on the wheel and lifts down, from the roof, a parcel, which he hands to the dame. Pajunent is made and duly entered in his notebook; and taking the reins he remounts the box and releases the brake. At a steady jog the rest of the way to Tai Tapu the coach skirts hill and river, until the Ellesmere Arms is reached, where the commercial traveller, dismounting with his valise, engages a bed for the night and a saddle horse for the next day.

The late afternoon sun throws a glamour over the whole landscape, and beautiful views of the Port Hills on the left and the vast plain and distant Alps on the right entrance the eye of the passenger. The township of Tai Tapu is not yet in existence and the coach continues its way along the bank of the river, two miles past the hotel, until Herrick’s store and farm are reached. Passengers get off, but the letters are conveyed to the Post Office at Greenpark, some two miles distant. The schoolhouse acts in that capacity at this time. Then the coach returns to its stables and

the horses are spelled for a couple of days. (To be continued.) Article Appreciated. Early residents of the Southbridge district read with much interest the articles in the “ Star ” of the coaching days of the 'sixties. One pioneer resident of Southbridge township, Mrs J. Sloan, well remembers making many trips to Christchurch, with her husband, in the coach owned by John Cowan.