Public and private conveyances in Austria and Hungary—An English dragsman posed—The Vienna race-meeting—Gentleman “Jocks”—A moral exemplified.

All matters connected with the management and treatment of horses are better understood in Austria and Hungary than in any other part of the Continent; but even there they have not arrived at the completeness so familiar here. The public conveyances still partake of the genus diligence, though they have the advantage of being divided into two classes—first and second. In the latter smoking is allowed.

The horses are yoked much in the same manner as in France—three at wheel, and any number in pairs before them, as the nature of the road may require. The travelling pace is about eight English miles per hour, and to this they adhere. The length of the posts, or stages, makes a journey more tedious than it would otherwise be, as it always conveys the impression that the last four or five miles of the sixteen or eighteen has to be performed by jaded cattle, which must use them up more quickly, in the long run, than letting them work in more reasonable distances. If economy be the object, it must certainly be negatived in the end by the last four or five miles which are tacked on to every post.

The conductor, or guard, goes through the whole journey, be it long or short; but the driver is changed at every stage, with the horses. The public conveyances at Vienna and Pesth are excellent, very superior to anything we have in London. The carriages for hire in the streets consist of open britzskas and landaus, with pairs of horses, which are of a very good class. The drivers are very respectable men, and excellent coachmen. They drive very fast, and, though the streets are narrow and tortuous, collisions are very rare. There are also close carriages (broughams) with one horse or a pair, the former being called coupÉs, and not held in much favour with the Élite.

The tariff is not excessive, and a wrangle is rarely heard.

With reference to private equipages, although they imitate as much as possible the English style, they invariably fail in some little particular, which, to an English critic, stamps the turn-out as continental. For instance, the coachman sits low, with his knees bent, having one rein in each hand; the horses are so coupled that their heads touch each other; the pole-pieces are so tight as to destroy any action which the horses might otherwise display.

Some years ago I made the acquaintance of a noble prince in Hungary, who owned a large stud of horses of all descriptions—racers, hunters, harness-horses, and hacks. He invited me to stay with him during the race-week at Vienna, asking me at the same time if I would drive his drag each day to the course, assuring me that it was appointed quite in the English style, and that I should feel myself entirely at home.

The first day of the meeting having arrived, my host introduced me to various other noble persons, descanting loudly, as I could not avoid hearing, on my talent as a coachman; after which, and having partaken of a sumptuous dÉjeÛner, we walked round to the stables. Here my anticipations were somewhat damped, as my noble host, pointing to a very long low char-À-banc, much upon the principle of an elongated Croydon basket, exclaimed: “Ah, ecco a qui chÈ la carozza. Heer ees my drarg.” And, seizing a long pig-whip from the socket of the carriage, he said: “You can make ze weep, ah yes?” Suiting the action to the word, he began cracking it backwards and forwards over his head with wonderful proficiency, after the manner of the French postilions. My heart sank within me; if this was expected of me, I felt I should signally fail—I who had been brought up to learn that to hear the whip at all was a fault. To be expected to flourish out of the courtyard with a succession of reports like an eighteen-pounder, was rather too severe a test of my knowledge of “making ze weep.”

After walking round the stables, which were very complete and in fine order, the team was brought out. It was composed of four Hungarian horses with very long manes and tails, smacking rather of the circus than the road.

I did not at all approve of the way in which they were being strung together, but an English stud-groom in the prince’s service advised my making no alteration “at present,” as they had always been driven in that way, and they could be very awkward if they liked.

All being ready, and the party having taken their seats, I took mine, and found myself—with a mere apology for a footboard—seated pretty nearly on a level with the wheelers’ backs.

The prince, who had continued to “make ze weep” (albeit of this the animals took not the slightest notice), now handed it to me, and we started, or rather the whole affair went jumping out of the courtyard in a succession of terrible bounds. The horses were, however, very highly bitted, and I had no difficulty in holding them in on our passage through the town; but, when we got to the open “prater,” they became very restless and impatient, a phenomenon explained in a whisper from my host: “Heer I make ze gallop. You not?”

Upon this I slacked my hand, and they went away like four demons; dashing past everything on the road at the rate of fifty miles an hour!

The prince, who expressed his surprise that I had not “knocked” anything in our wild career, was less astonished than myself, especially as when, nearing the course, the track became crowded with every description of vehicle, while the rules of the road were entirely set at defiance!

We managed, however, to reach the grandstand in safety. It was a brilliant day, and the glowing colours of female costume, from the royal family downwards, produced a magnificent effect.

But if the colours worn by the ladies were dazzling and gorgeous, what shall we say of the hues selected for the silk jackets of the gentlemen riders, who, in order to proclaim to the multitude the part they were about to take, hovered about amongst the crowd, like tropical butterflies who had lost their way? Indeed, so much importance is attached to the privilege of sporting silk, that it is no uncommon thing for a noble owner to carry a stone over his weight, in order to display jacket and boots on the course, rather than “give a leg up” to a lighter man.

The events of the day were contended for principally by gentlemen “jocks;” and bets of a few guldens produced as much interest as if thousands of pounds had been staked.

After passing an agreeable day (the larger portion of which was occupied in getting the amateur jocks to the post) I proceeded to find my team; and took a sly opportunity of making many alterations in the attelage, giving them all more room in their couplings and in their pole-pieces, middle bar instead of lower, and cheek to those I thought would bear it, buckling the traces (as near as I could) at even lengths, slacking all the curbs, and lengthening some of the head-stalls. The effect was marvellous; instead of the wild impetuous team I had brought up from the city, I had now four horses working evenly and pleasantly together, and, after the first quarter of a mile, not pulling an ounce more than they ought. Here let me repeat the maxim: “A team properly put together is half driven.”