Stagecoaches as Christmas icons

A patch of dandelions had blossomed during those heady mild and sunny days of October and early November, apparently thinking spring had arrived, and then we experienced those few days of snow which appeared as blizzards on the heights and which piled deep snow against the dry stone walls, beyond the reach of the wintry sun.

Even on that November day, the sun was shining and bathing that patch of unseasonal dandelions in a pool of warmth, and I spotted a few bees and flies around them, drawn to their brilliant colour in spite of the lateness of the season.

The bed of dandelions occupied a site on the south of a dry stone wall and could therefore gain every advantage from the sun, even in winter. At the other side of the wall, in shadow where the low-lying sun could not reach, was 2ft of drifted winter snow and I thought the contrast was remarkable. Dandelions are sturdy plants, however, but they usually bloom in their millions during the spring and continue in a less dramatic way through the year until September or October. I did feel, however, that this little clump of lovely flowers had got its seasons rather confused.

Romance v reality

If the Christmas cards I send and receive are any guide, this year's batch will portray a selection of beautiful and atmospheric scenes comprising coaches and horses in snowbound streets among warmly illuminated cottages or drawing up outside welcoming inns. There will be a variety of coaches, some with four wheels and some with two, and they will be drawn by teams of horses numbering either two or four, or at times, even a solitary horse. Some will be privately owned, others will be stagecoaches going about their business of carrying passengers, and some will be mail coaches doing vital work for the nation.

It is easy to gaze upon those lovely scenes and to think how wonderfully romantic it must have been, sitting in a picturesque coach drawn by four brave horses as the snow falls around and smothers the road surface. The reality, of course, was much different. The coaches were dreadfully uncomfortable, there was no heating and no facilities like toilets and they were extremely cramped. The roads were dreadful, full of potholes, wheel-ruts and mud and it is amazing that these vehicles managed to reach their destination at the appointed time, and it is equally surprising that people actually wanted to travel aboard them.

But who cares about reality when stagecoaches can produce such wonderfully romantic scenes in our minds, particularly at this time of the year? I have a selection of cards before me now - one coach is a brilliant red and black, and it is drawn by four glossy black horses as it travels through a snowbound village with its passengers smiling and looking very happy.

It even has pheasants and hares hanging from its uppermost rail and a posthorn is sounding to announce its presence.

It's a lovely picture, and so is another showing a coach and four racing through a picturesque snowbound lane and yet another showing a coach discharging passengers before a splendid country house with footmen in attendance.

I could mention many more, but in spite of the hard reality of actually being carried in such an uncomfortable vehicle, I still find the golden age of coaching most fascinating. And, like the holly and the ivy, or the mistletoe and Christmas pudding, such scenes are an essential part of the atmosphere of our modern Christmas.

The first vehicles to bear the name of "stage coach" were not at all romantic or beautiful. The name appeared around 1600 and was given to a long, lumbering waggon which had an open top and very broad-rimmed wheels; this waggon was drawn by a team of horses but usually carried goods rather than passengers.

From time to time, it might carry poor people who could not afford a horse of their own. The roads at the time were horrendous, being little more than mud or rock-strewn tracks, which is why these vehicles had wide rims to their wheels (it was thought they would not sink into the mud), but progress was painfully slow, even if some of them had teams of eight or even ten horses.

The driver, invariably equipped with a long whip, usually rode alongside on a pony or horse so he probably had a reasonably comfortable journey.

In spite of this, the idea of having coaches which carried passengers and which undertook long journeys through the countryside was not far behind.

The first stagecoach of the kind with which we are familiar appeared in the middle of the 17th century but was far from popular. Indeed, within the next 20 years, only half a dozen of these stagecoaches could be seen in England, no doubt due to the appalling state. of the roads.

One gallant traveller called Edward Parker wrote: "My journey was noe ways pleasant ... this travel hath so indisposed mee that I am resolved never to ride up againe in ye coaches. I am extremely hott and feverish ..."

But towards the end of that century, travel by coach was becoming more popular and in 1683, a coach ran from York to London via Doncaster, Newark, Stamford, Bugden and Stevenage, resting the night at each of those towns. It took six days to complete the trip.

By this time, it was realised the roads were in need of improvement and so the turnpikes were introduced as a means of raising money from travellers to pay for better roads (with little success), then in 1754, a coach with springs was introduced, travelling from Edinburgh to London in just ten days. By 1775, there were some 400 stagecoaches on our roads, averaging about 8mph, but it was the revolutionary road surfacing method, introduced by J L MacAdam during the last quarter of that century which transformed the coaching world.

Average speeds increased by 10mph, travelling was much more comfortable and, suddenly, journeys by stage coach became highly fashionable. Coaching inns began to flourish and by 1835 there were 700 mail coaches on the roads with the 400-mile journey from Edinburgh to London being done in 45 hours.

Our Christmas cards give us just a tiny flavour of what is known as the Golden Age of Coaching but it all ended when the railways began to attract passengers from the roads.

Good books

Over the past few months, I have been impressed by the number of villages, some very small indeed, which have managed to produce books which highlight their history. There is no doubt many of these were prompted by the millennium but among them are several examples where the writers or compilers have avoided the trap of regurgitating ancient history from old records. Instead, they have concentrated on what their villages look like today, and how the people work and relax in those modern surroundings.

This kind of approach is an important form of social history and it will be of immense value in the future, when the people of the next century or further ahead will want to know how their ancestors lived and what their village looked like. Among the villages which have adopted this approach I can recall Glaisdale and now Thirkleby, near Thirsk, each book showing the people of those communities as they are today.

And if anyone is wondering what to buy relations as a Christmas present, then a book about their ancestral village might not come amiss!

I commend the authors and publishers for their efforts.

Change of career

And finally! In my recent piece about Beatrix Potter, her husband was a solicitor when he left my word processor but when he appeared in print, he had become a soldier! Such things happen in the world of the modern printed word, but so that the record can be corrected, I can confirm that the husband of Beatrix was a solicitor with an office in Hawkshead.