Mr. F. E. Baines, C.B., Inspector-General of Mails, in his well-known humorous style, gave in “_Blackfriars_” the following account of a coach trip taken to Brighton by the chiefs of the Post Office Department, to inaugurate a Parcel Post Service by road with “London-super-Mare”:—
“Mr. Moses James Nobbs, the last (I think) surviving Mail Guard, began work June 27th, 1836, and still does duty as Mail Officer at Paddington. He could remember a good deal in his fifty-three years of service. Old memories must have revived as he went down from London to Brighton, two or three years ago, as Guard in charge of the special trip of the new Brighton Parcel Coach. He was fully equipped, as of yore, for that perilous journey, a timepiece from Jamaica serving to complete the outfit. We maintained (within an hour or two) a moderate punctuality, but the tropic sun, or a luncheon at Red Hill, I know not which—perhaps both—disturbed the due action of the watch. ‘Thrice armed the Guard who hath his timepiece just.’ All the same, a blunderbuss from Exeter was handed in at the last moment to make our armament fourfold; and, I grieve to state, had, amidst the delighted and (I fear) ironical cheers of a crowded courtyard, to be tied on to the hind seat with official string.”
Mr. Baines considerately omitted to say that Mr. Nobbs’ attempts to blow the horn were somewhat of a failure. When, for the sake of Auld Lang Syne, he was asked to act as guard to the coach, he represented that he could not blow a horn owing to having lost several teeth. He was, however, persuaded to attempt it, and to practise beforehand. Unfortunately his efforts in going down that busy London artery—Cheapside—were futile, and the feeble sounds he managed to extract from the horn excited the derision of all the street urchins _en route_. Mr. Nobbs took his discomfiture in perfect good humour, and I feel sure will not be offended at this public allusion to the amusing incident.
Another _contretemps_ on the same journey was the stoppage of the coach at the bottom of Cheapside by the police on account of the coachman—that well known jehu, Mr. John Manley Birch—trying to take the coach on the wrong side of a particular post. Sir Arthur Blackwood tried his persuasive powers, Mr. Algernon Turnor threatened pains and penalties for the interference with Her Majesty’s Royal Mail, but the policemen were inexorable. The position was getting rather ludicrous, and the immense traffic was being considerably impeded, when, in a twinkling, our resolute coachman saw his opportunity, and having for leaders two horses accustomed to run in a fire-engine and quick to get a start, drove past the astonished policemen—who were not prepared for such a dash—and away we sped amid the plaudits of the assembled crowd.