And Now, Another Report from Carriage and Driver

It’s September once more, and time for a new report from Carriage and Driver with a preview of the upcoming decade’s hottest new vehicles. Whether you’re looking for a sporty performance model or a practical family vehicle, Carriage and Driver will tell you all you need to know!

First up, this 1816 model landaulette (as illustrated by R. Ackermann—a name well known to Car and Driver readers, I’m sure!), perfect for the smaller household with seating for two and comfortably drawn by one horse. Quite smart!

When more seating is required, Car and Driver readers can’t do better than this Patent Landau built and patented by Birch and Son of Great Queen-street in Lincoln’s-Inn-fields. Mr. Birch “has obtained a patent for improvements in the construction of the roofs and upper quarters, not only of landaus, but of all other carriages which are made to fall down. By these improvements the objections against landaus upon the old plan, either as town, pleasure, or travelling carriages, are entirely removed. The head or roof, and upper parts, by the new invention, have an even smooth surface, like a well built town coach, shew no outward joints on the top of the windows, or locks on the roof; yet are so completely secured as to prevent any possibility of being opened from the outside: it removes the inconveniences arising from the leather contracting, or drawing the fore-lights out of their perpendicular position, it causing the shutters and glasses to act properly, and renders it impossible for water to penetrate the leather or to lie on the roof.” (Ackermann’s Repository, February 1809)

For anyone who admires barouches but requires more seating than a barouche provides, perhaps this handsome caleche will answer. With enclosed seating for four, you’ll be out of the weather and very much in style.

If your fancy runs to foreign vehicles, this droschki may be the carriage for you.  Its form is particularly graceful and elegant, and models seating one or two are available. The Emperor of Russia recently made a gift of one to his majesty King George IV. (Ackermann's Repository, August 1820)

And speaking of Russia…with the approach of winter, our readers might find this next model of interest. This Imperial Sledge, as seen in a outing attended by a number of monarchs, nobility, and other great persons during the recent congress in Vienna, makes getting around during the snowy season both possible and pleasurable. With its phaeton form and elegant decoration, you’ll drive like an emperor! (Ackermann’s Repository, April 1816)

What say you, Carriage and Driver readers? Is there a model here you’d like to take out for a test drive?

Where the Boys Were: The Four-Horse Club

Some things never change, and one of those is the preoccupation of young men with going very fast. We already know that fast, “sexy” vehicles are not a modern phenomenon: today’s Porsche was the 19th century’s high-perch phaeton-and-four.

So where were the boys of the 19th century who liked to go fast?

It seems to have been a not-uncommon event for dashing young men who fancied they knew a thing or two about “handling the ribbons’—that is, driving a team of horses—to bribe coach drivers to let them have a go at driving stagecoaches (much to the dismay of the passengers!) So popular was this pastime in the 18th century that one group of well-born hell-raisers started calling themselves “the Four-Horse Club”.

Fortunately for the poor stagecoach passengers of a few years later, young men decided that driving their own coaches might be more amusing (though it was still fashionable to imitate professional drivers in dress and, alas, in use of profanity), and in 1807 a group of them founded the Bensington Driving Club (BDC) in Bensington, Oxfordshire. Because membership in that club was limited to 25, a second driving club was established a year later and took over the name of Four-Horse Club (FHC). Membership was limited by several things—birth and social standing, ability to afford to belong, and, of course, driving skill. To be asked to join one of these very exclusive clubs was an enormous honor.

Members of these clubs gathered somewhere in London (the Four-Horse Club in Cavendish Square), then drove in procession to a pub some 20 miles from the city where they would dine, then drive back the following day. The Four-Horse Club used to alternate its destination between two pubs until one of them distinguished itself one hot summer’s afternoon by providing a change of chairs part-way through dinner, so that members might cool their posteriors!

The rules of the Four-Horse Club were very strict: only barouches were permitted, painted yellow; harnesses had to be silver-mounted, and horses (originally bays, though this rule was relaxed) had to wear rosettes. Drivers wore coats that reached to the ankles with three tiers of pockets and mother of pearl buttons as large as five shilling pieces. Their waistcoats were blue with yellow stripes an inch wide, their breeches of plush with strings and rosettes to each knee. It was fashionable that the hat should be 3 1/2 inches deep in the crown. Very strict, too, were the rules of the bi-weekly outings held in May and June: the order of the procession was always the same, and members were to keep to a strict trot and not attempt to pass each other. No drag-racing for these boys!

The Bad Boy of Carriages

Oh, I love Marissa’s themes! I’ll have some information on bad boys in weeks to come, but I’ve been holding off on a post and it’s just itching to get out. Maybe it’s the sunshine or the fact that my wonderful critique partner Kristin has a sporty little car she drives with the top down. Either way, I keep envisioning myself tooling down the road in one of these.

As we’ve mentioned, carriages were the equivalent of cars in nineteenth century England. Then as now, some people drove sensible sedans, some hard-working trucks, and others piled into SUVs or minivans.

And some drove sports cars.

The high-perch phaeton was the sports car of the rich and famous. Showy and impractical, it was nonetheless the most dashing of carriages. When you drove a phaeton, you made a statement.

And you drove a phaeton. There were only two seats at most, so you couldn’t very well have a coachman driving for you. The minimal number of seats also came in handy if you were a gentleman who wanted a little alone time with a certain young lady. You weren’t required to have a chaperon like a maid along in open carriages, because everyone could see what was happening anyway, but stricter mamas couldn’t very well insist on one when there simply wasn’t room.

Phaetons were also one of the carriages of choice for those who liked to race. The idea was to set a record in time from point A to point B. One of the favorite roads was the stretch between London and Brighton.

And speaking of favorites, I spotted one of my favorite books this morning in a local bookstore. Now you can too! Come back next week when we’ll be giving away a chance to win an autographed copy of Marissa’s Bewitching Season!