FERRYBRIDGE COACHING DAYS

by ERIC HOULDER

PART TWO

FERRYBRIDGE INNS

(fig 1.) The late Medieval bridge at Ferrybridge

To understand the role that the inns of Ferrybridge played during the coaching era, it is important to understand their locations in regard to the road. People of my generation and older will remember the Great North Road coming directly past the school gates, before the present, raised, dual carriageway of the 1960s. However, the original road, now blocked by the railway embankment to the south, but still called Doncaster Road came directly into the Square, and exited over the late medieval bridge (fig.1) which was situated roughly where The Golden Lion is sited today. Travellers did not have to divert from the road, as they would nowadays, for the Square was the road.

To avoid undue complication, I intend to assume that we are travelling up from the south, and will describe the inns in order as we reach them.

Dropping down Gallows Hill from Grove Hall, we reach Ferrybridge Cross-roads. Here the North Road crosses the present A645, which from medieval times was the main road from the West Riding to the Humber ports. In the coaching days, and until the roundabout was built probably in the ‘thirties, there was a small area of grass in the centre. As late as the 1890s a decaying gallows stood here, as witnessed by my late grandfather. It was also an important point for the coaches, for it would be here that the guards on northbound vehicles would blow their horns to warn the ostlers, grooms and other staff in the various inns to have a ‘change’ ready.

The first coaching inn was The Greyhound, which would be on our left. The Greyhound did not have a yard as such, for the coaches were stopped along its front, which faced onto Pontefract Road, as shown in the accompanying engraving (fig.2) from Tom Bradley. The cottages opposite, now including the shop, were the stables, postboys’ accommodation and taproom. The Greyhound did not horse the Royal Mails. However, it did carry on a prosperous posting business, and horsed, amongst others, The Rockingham and The Express which were private stage coaches. The unique feature of this latter coach was that one bought a ticket for a journey, not a particular seat on a particular day. Thus, one could interrupt one’s journey and resume it on another day, if of course there was a spare place available on the coach that day.

(fig 2.) Tom Bradley's image of The Greyhound	(fig 3.) The Greyhound in the early 1970s

We know that Charles Dickens favoured The Express, and liked Ferrybridge, staying at The Greyhound on a number of occasions. In particular, he used The Express whilst writing Nicholas Nickleby, as it gave him the opportunity to spend an extra day in an area if necessary. Incidentally, The George at Greta Bridge where he seems to have stayed near the establishment which he renamed ‘Dotheboys Hall’ (to avoid legal complications!) is still there, (unlike the original Greyhound) just off the A66 near Bowes, but now a private house. It is fascinating to realise that he probably wrote much of that story in an upstairs room in Ferrybridge! Fig. 3 is a photograph of The Greyhound by the late Ken Walsh of Castleford in the early 1970s. Comparison with Bradley’s drawing shows that it had hardly changed, other than losing a wing to the early motor road, probably in the 1930s.

The first landlady of whom we have knowledge was Mary Moody, who owned the establishment at the end of the Eighteenth century and into the Nineteenth. In 1803 she took her son in law, Samuel Rusby into partnership. He continued as landlord after Mary’s death. His son kept on the inn, and even at times drove the Rockingham. Of the postboys there, only George Myers was remembered when Bradley visited in the 1880s. Incidentally, it is interesting to realise that these names are still present in the locality, and not a few local people must be descended from these personalities.

Moving on into the Square, we pass the entrance to the yard of The Angel on our left. During my childhood the bus stop for Knottingley was just outside it, and I little realised then that just a century previous, standing here would have been a risky proposition! Contrary to modern belief, the coaches rarely if ever ran under the arches of the inns; the teams were harnessed up in the yard, and at the sound of the horn would be trotted out in front of the building. As the coach approached and slowed, a boy would run up and pull out a pin, allowing the exhausted team to be led away. The fresh team would be backed on, the pin inserted, and if it was not a meal stop, the vehicle would be away within less than a minute.

(fig 4.) The Angel in 1965	(fig 5.) Tom Bradley's drawing of The Angel

The Angel was one of the premier inns of the road, being only challenged by The George at Stamford and The Crown at Boroughbridge, though the Swan across the river ran them all close. The Angel was gradually extended during the coaching era; examination of earliest surviving picture of it (fig.1) shows only the part of it nearest the bridge. Compare this with my 1965 photograph (fig. 4) and Bradley’s drawing of the inn in its heyday (fig.5) and the extent of its enlargements will be clear. Even its stabling (fig.6) was massive, for it was reputed to turn out over fifty pairs of horses a day. At the greatest extent of its business, in the 1820s, its landlord was Dr George Alderson whose father had been the vicar of Birkin. He was described as:

"a dapper little gentleman of the old school, and in his threefold capacity of doctor of medicine, for he had a good practice in the locality, coach proprietor, and mine host of the Angel, he must have been a man of no ordinary attainments."

He horsed the Highflyer and the Leeds Union, from The Angel to Doncaster, and the two Royal Mails in and out to (The New Inn) Robin Hood’s Well. The same coaches were horsed northwards to Sherburn (The Red Bear) by Mr Thomas Hall whose stables were situated nearer the (new) bridge. However, the teams were trotted down to make the actual change in front of The Angel. Thomas Hall had at one time been owner/landlord of The Swan, Ferrybridge’s other prestigious coaching house.

It is safe to say that no-one living can remember The Swan, for it fell into ruins well before the end of the Nineteenth century. My early photograph (fig. 7) shows it derelict in the 1850s or ‘60s, and Bradley’s drawing (fig. 8) done in the 1880s seems to show it then, rather than in its heyday. However, reference to figure 1 shows it in the 1780s, with the old bridge debouching almost into its entrance.

(fig 7.) The Swan in 1850/60	(fig 8.) Tom Bradley's drawing of the Swan Inn during the 1880s

By the 1820s, The Swan was still horsing some of the chief coaches, but because of its position more distant from the new bridge than the old, it was the custom to stand and change teams in front of The Golden Lion. Passengers for The Swan had to walk across the bridge, and this may have been one reason why it did not survive as long as the others. John Hall, landlord in 1786 won the contract for the mails between Ferrybridge and Tadcaster (two stages), and his son continued the tradition from his stables near the bridge. Later, Mr William Thwaites took over The Swan, and he was landlord until the coaches ran off the road in the 1840s, when it became derelict. He horsed The Wellington in both directions.

The most famous guest of The Swan was of course Sir Walter Scott. His home was at Abbotsford in the Borders, but his literary agent lived in London. As Scott hated London, and his agent disliked Edinburgh, they had a mutual understanding to avoid both cities. Their compromise was The Swan, where both stayed when conducting business. Scott also travelled around the area pretty extensively, for he actually describes Gallows Hill in The Heart of Midlothian, whilst in Ivanhoe he describes Conisbrough Castle as he first saw it from a coach to Sheffield. Clearly he changed at Doncaster on this trip.

The Golden Lion was never a coaching inn as such. However, it provided accommodation and stabling for the huge stage wagons which transported parcels around the country at much slower speeds than the coaches. I also believe, though I have no proof, that the packet boats which provided an excellent service along the waterways in those days, called at the back. Today, these vessels are all but forgotten, but many travellers preferred them, and it is not difficult to see why; they had first and second class heated lounges, food was supplied, and some even had reading material to hand. One could travel down the Aire to Hull and catch the steam packet to London in only a few hours more than the mail coach. However, bad weather caused more disruption of the boats than it did to the coaches, and the railways finally finished off both services.

The coaching and posting system employed many hundreds of thousands of people all over the country. What with horse-breeders and salesmen, innkeepers, maids, cooks, ostlers, grooms, guards, drivers, postboys, coachbuilders, painters, roadmenders, tollkeepers and even clerks in the offices, the system was probably the major source of income to more people than the armed forces after the Napoleonic Wars finished. Then, in the 1820s the first public railways opened. To begin with most people scoffed, and one expert even wrote a book proving that travelling at thirty miles an hour was much less cost-effective than at ten mph. Another ‘expert’ claimed that the human body could not survive at speeds much above thirty mph! Unfortunately, it was the coaching system that failed to survive in the 1840s, and with the supremacy of rail, the roads fell into disuse, the tollgates were eventually removed and many of the inns had to be sold.

In Ferrybridge, only The Greyhound and The Golden Lion survived. The Swan was derelict by the 1860s, and The Angel was subdivided and sold off as separate dwellings, finally being demolished in the 1960s to make way for the dual carriageway. Of these renowned coaching houses, the last to survive was The Greyhound which lasted well into living memory. Why a house with well-known Dickens associations was demolished and rebuilt only those responsible know the answer. Perhaps we, as local people, bear the blame for not having it Scheduled as an Ancient Monument!

(fig 9.) Ferrybridge Square in 1964

Long distance traffic began slowly returning to the roads with the cycling boom of the 1870s to 1890s. Motor traffic increased after the Great War, and prompted the by-passing of the village which suffered accordingly. When my last picture (fig. 9) was taken on a sleepy Sunday afternoon in May 1964, the only traffic evident is one local cyclist, and the parked car with its roof-load. Truly it can be said of Ferrybridge: sic transit gloria mundi

Eric Houlder

Ferrybridge in the Coaching Days is copyright ©Eric Houlder

<PART ONE

Readers who would like to learn more about the coaching era will find The Old Coaching Days in Yorkshire, by Tom Bradley, 1889, invaluable. It was reprinted by Smith Settle in 1988, ISBN 1 870071 23 9.