James Woodforde: from Oxford to Ansford in Somerset in 1761 and 1774

The first journey, Oxford to Ansford riding a horse

Parson James Woodforde is probably the best known of English diarists from the eighteenth century.

He kept a diary from 1759 right up to the day before he died in 1803. The diary is of great value in

understanding the nature of personal travel (for the well-to-do classes) in the period. He used his

diaries very consistently to record his expenditures and other details of his journeys, often with

precise times of departure and arrival.

Woodforde in academic dress at Oxford. Public Domain Image.

Whilst we can reconstruct many aspects of travel by stage-coach from advertisements and time-

tables printed in newspapers and elsewhere, Woodforde gives us insights into other forms of travel

and also into many aspects of stage-coach travel not documented by advertisements or timetables.

At 5 a.m. on the 24th August 1761 he set out from Oxford on horse-back for the family home in

Ansford, Somerset (where his father was the Rector). He paid or tipped a servant in Oxford one

shilling, though it is not clear for what, probably either for helping him with his luggage or for

feeding his horse. He overtook another man named Wills from Oxford. They stopped for breakfast

at Farnborough 28 kilometres (17 miles from Oxford), which cost them one shilling and two pence

each. He also paid the ostler (a servant who looked after the horses in the stables attached to the

inn) two shillings for feeding his horse. They arrived at Everleigh in Wiltshire, some 40 km (25 miles)

from Farnborough by one’ clock and dined (i.e. had what we would call lunch) there, which cost him

two shillings. He and Wills split the tips to the maid servant and the ostler (but there is no mention

of his horse being fed). They fed their horses again at Chicklade in Wiltshire (43 km or 27 miles)

from Everleigh, which cost Woodforde a shilling. Finally, they arrived at the Bear in Wincanton, after

another 22 km (14 miles), at 11’ o’ clock at night, three hours after sunset ‘so much fatigued’ where

they spent the night. He also spent four pence on turnpikes (toll roads). By the time Woodforde got

up the next day, Wills had already left. He paid two shillings and five pence for bed and breakfast

and feeding his horse and tipped the maid and the ostler six pence each. He arrived at Ansford in

the morning, though he does not on this occasion record the precise time, but it was only 11 km (7

miles).

Studies for ‘The Pilgrimage to Canterbury’ by Thomas Stothard drawn in 1806. Image courtesy of the Tate Gallery, London. Image released under Creative Commons CC-BY-NC-ND (3.0 Unported)Travel by horse was no doubt faster in 1761 due to the improvements to many sections of the roads by turnpike trusts than it had been for the medieval pilgrims depicted here. But women still had to ride side-saddle, which must have made the stage-coach an especial boon to women.

So, the first day Woodforde travelled 133 km (82 miles). He arrived at Wincanton 18 hours after he

left Oxford but we know he made three stops. His average speed was therefore something over 7.4

km per hour (4.6 miles per hour). If we supposed that his stops totalled three hours, his average

speed would have been 8.9 km per hour (5.5 mph). We can only guess why he broke the journey so

close to home. He was clearly very tired. Maybe he could go no further. Possibly the horses could

go no further. This is a long way to ride a horse in a day and was probably not the kind of journey

that could be repeated the following day. Alternatively, perhaps he didn’t fancy travelling any

further in the dark – a much more hazardous undertaking than travelling during the day. We can see

that, although he was not paying any stage-coach fares, his journey cost him 6 shillings and 2 pence

(there were 20 shillings to the pound and 12 pence to the shilling). This is £0.31 which may not

sound very much, but at this date an agricultural labourer, and thirty per cent of adult males were

such, might earn between one shilling and two shillings a day. This kind of journey was therefore

entirely out of reach for most of the population. Finally, we might note that the turnpike tolls were

a very small part (2.8%) of Woodforde’s costs.

Rievelaux Abbey, after Joseph Mallord William Turner, 1836. Note the woman and child riding side saddle.

The second journey, Oxford to Ansford in 1774 by stage-coach and post-chaise.

In the early entries of Woodforde’s diaries, his numerous journeys back and forth between Oxford and his father’s house in Ansford were made riding a horse. By 1774 we find him travelling by stage-coach and post-chaise. This may reflect the great increase in the number of coach services in these years, associated with the turnpiking of a high proportion of all main roads in this period. Turnpiking refers to the ‘privatisation’ (primarily of ‘trunk’ roads) formerly the responsibility of the individual parishes through which the road passed. In general, this led to major improvements in road quality, but the (charitable) turnpike trusts, charged a toll to cover costs (they were legally forbidden from making a profit, though this is not to suggest that no trustees ever benefitted financially).

Changing Horses to a Post-Chaise outside the ‘George’ Posting-house, Charles Cooper Henderson. Painted c.1830-1840. Courtesy of the Tate Gallery. Image released under Creative Commons CC-BY-NC-ND (3.0 Unported).

On the 16th January, Woodforde went to the Cross Inn in Oxford and booked a place on the stage-coach to Bath for the 31st, paying ‘entrance money’ (i.e. a deposit) of 10 shillings and six pence – approaching two week’s wages for agricultural labourer in this area in the winter months. This was half the full fare. On the 31st January 1774, Woodforde’s diary records that:

I got up at half past six in order to go in the Machine [he is referring to a scheduled stage-coach service]. The Porter’s man [then as now, Oxford and Cambridge colleges employed ‘porters’ in a combined role we might equate with receptionists and security guards] called me at six, for which and carrying my portmanteau [his luggage] to the Cross Inn [a distance of less than a mile] gave him 0 1 0 [i.e. one shilling, a substantial tip]. To Frank Payne’s boy gave 0 0 6 [mean 0 pounds, 0 shillings and six pence. it is not clear what service was rendered here, but Frank Payne was his ‘bed-maker’ a college servant whose duties went well beyond making the beds of college members.] I went to the Cross Inn at a little after 7 and the machine was gone [whether he arrived a few minutes late or the coach departed earlier than scheduled, he does not record]. However, I tool a post-chaise [private hire coach – a bit like a taxi or an executive limousine today] immediately from the Cross Inn and overtook the Machine at Ensom [Ensham] about 5 miles from Oxon [Oxford] and there got into it. For the post-chaise likewise paid 0 4 0. Gave the drive 0 1 0 [another handsome tip]. There was one other passenger in it a gentleman of Exeter College (part of Oxford University): we stopped and breakfasted at the Bridge and there I left the gentleman as he was only there to meet some other company [Woodforde does not record if he split the costs with hid companion from Exeter College but this seems likely].

The tips that Woodforde gave: a shilling each to the adult men and six pence (half a shilling) to the boy (either a child or a young man in our terms). These were comparatively large sums comparable to what an agricultural labourer might earn for a whole day’s work in the winter in the rural south-

east at this date. Even if Woodforde was unusually generous, this suggests that servants with ‘front facing’ roles, might earn far more from tips than from wages. The route that Woodforde took, from Oxford to Eynsham, had replaced the older longer route taken by wheeled vehicles relatively recently. Woodforde clearly travelled along the relatively new turnpike road (promoted by the famous jurist, Lord Blackstone) which left Oxford on the new causeway (to avoid flooding) through Botley. Outside Oxford, new road was re-routed to avoid the ascent up Witham Hill which was considered rather steep for wheeled vehicles, though the slope would barely register with the driver of a modern car. New road alignments designed to facilitate wheeled traffic were a common feature of the new turnpike roads associated with a rise in the use of wheeled vehicles. The toll bridge at Eynsham, which still operates today (tolls for pedestrians were abolished in 1836 but cars pay five pence!), shortened the journey from Cheltenham to Oxford, which had formerly been via Woodstock, a detour of around 10 miles.

Swinford Bridge built for the Earl of Abingdon in 1769. The bridge was constructed from local limestone – the same honey-coloured stone that characterises the traditional stone houses and medieval churches of the Cotswolds. Image licenced by Jimfbleak at the English language Wikipedia under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported.

The diary continues:

For my breakfast at Witney – paid 0 1 0. At Witney the Machine [coach] took up a poor player [actor] a young man who is in a consumption [i.e. had tuberculosis, which until the development of anti-biotics in the 1940s, was an incurable disease] and going to his friends at Bath [possibly to take the waters, which were widely believed to have medicinal properties] – he looked dreadful bad. I dined [lunched] at Burford by myself, paid there 0 4 0 [two to four days wages for an agricultural labourer]. At Burford paid the remaining part of the fare 0 10 6. Dr Bosworth of Oriel (another of the Oxford colleges) and a young lady came into the same room where I dined, as they were going to London in the Stroud machine (i.e. the Stroud to London stage-coach]. I was not long with them at the Inn in Burford as our

machine was just setting off. At Burford we took up a young farmer who was lame and was going to try the Bath waters and the farmer’s sister, a young woman. The farmer thinks his condition to be rheumatism. We got to Cirencester about 5 this afternoon where we slept and ate. I supped in a room by myself and spent the evening.

James Pollard, The ‘Tally-Ho’ London - Birmingham Stage Coach Passing Whittington College, Highgate. Painted 1836. Image courtesy of the Tate Gallery, London. Image released under Creative Commons CC-BY-NC-ND (3.0 Unported)

5pm may seem early to stop to the modern reader, but at this time of year it would be dark by then and at this date, even on turnpike roads, the road surfaces were not always good enough to travel safely in the dark – though a generation later, all night services were running on higher quality roads]. On the 1st February Woodforde records that:

I got up this morning at half past five, got into the machine about six and set off before breakfast for Bath. At Cirencester paid 0 3 6 [for dinner and a room]. Gave the chamber maid and waiter 0 1 6 [it is not clear how this was split between the two recipients]. At Tedbury [Tetbury] we breakfasted, paid 0 1 6. We got to Petty France [a hamlet on the road between Tetbury and Bath] about 11 where the machine stays for two or three hours. And, as I wanted to reach Ansford this evening, I took a post-chaise at Petty France and set forth for Bath immediately. It snowed prodigiously all the way to Bath. Gave the [stage] coachman at Petty France 0 1 0 [another handsome tip]. At Petty France for a chaise to Bath 0 11 3. For some rum and water at Petty France paid 0 0 3. Gave a poor boy at Petty France 0 0 3 [an act of charity not a tip and half the level of his usual tip to ‘boys’ of six pence]. Gave Petty France Driver 0 1 6 besides a dram on the road [since he does not itemise the cost, it is a fair assumption he was dispensing some of the rum he had just purchased].

I got to Olde Downe between 3 and 4 this afternoon where I stayed about a quarter of an hour, eat [ate] some cold roast beef, drank a pint of ale, and then got into a fresh chaise for Ansford. It snowed all the way very thick from Bath to Old Downe. At Bath for a Chaise paid 0 10 6. Gave the Bath driver, besides a dram 0 1 6. For a chaise at Old Down to Ansford paid 0 10 6. Eating at Old Downe paid 0 1 0. I got to Ansford I thank God safe and well this evening at 6 o’clock [Woodforde’s tendency to thank God for his arrival is a reflection, not simply of religiosity, but of how dangerous travel by stage-coach was – accidents were much more common per mile than by car today] It snowed all the way from Old Downe to Ansford and wind blowed very rough and it was very cold indeed. Gave the Old Downe driver a dram at Gannards Grave, another at home and gave him also 0 1 6.

I found Mr Pouncett and my sister Jane at home by themselves and I supped and slept at [the] Parsonage. Brother John supped and spent the evening with us. All friends pretty well but poor Dr Clarke who is worse rather than I left him. His legs very swell [swollen] and he talks but very little and looks very ill indeed. Mr Pouncett supped and slept at [the] Parsonage.

Since Woodforde left Oxford at 7 a.m. and arrived in Ansford at 6 p.m. the following day, the journey took 35 hours. On the 1762 horse-back journey described above he left Oxford at 5 a.m. and arrived at an unstated time the following morning. So, the earlier journey took at most 31 hours and likely less than 29 hours. Before we jump to the conclusion that travelling by stage-coach and post chaise in 1774 we need to account of the fact the earlier journey was undertaken in June, when there are 19 hours of day-light, while the latter was taken in January when there are only 9 hours of daylight. Moreover, while the 1774 journey was slow, it was no doubt a good deal more comfortable, less tiring and more sociable (and Woodforde was nothing if not sociable) and had a much a much longer ‘stop-over’ at Cirencester than at Wincanton, which would likely have contributed to his being a good deal less tired on arriving home that in 1774. Riding a horse is hard physical work and hence tiring and Woodforde noted being very ‘fatigued after his marathon ride from Oxford to Wincaunton. We should not though, assume travelling even on the inside of a stage-coach was comfortable (see the accounts by Hatchett and Mauritz). While coaches had steel springs for suspension by this date and most of the turnpike roads had a tamped (rammed) gravel surface, this was an uncomfortable mode of travel compared with even third class rail travel a couple of generations later, or a coach or car journey today.

The second journey involved massively higher levels of expenditure over the 36 hours of the journey. In 1761 Woodforde spent 7 shillings and 6 pence in total, though this does not include the cost of owning and maintaining the horse on the first place, of which more later. In 1774, the stage-coach fare from Oxford to Bath cost 21 shillings (£1 and 1 shilling or a guinea). In the first 24 hours (i.e. to the point where he ‘checked out’ at Cirencester) he spent an additional two shilling and 6 pence in tips; and 4 shillings for the post-chaise; and 8 shillings and 4 shillings for meals and a room a total of 0 16 6 . On the second day he spent: £1 11 3 for the three post-chaise journeys; two shillings and 6 pence for meals; and 5 shillings and six pence, a total of £1 19 3 (not counting the three pence he gave to the poor boy at Petty France) So, the whole journey, all in, cost £2 16 9. For comparing the two journeys, it is simplest to convert both sums to pence (there being 240 pence in the pound). In 1761 his costs were 90 pence and in 1774 675 pence. So, the direct costs were around seven times higher for the more comfortable later journey. In large part this reflects the greater costs of stage-coach travel and the greater still costs of travelling by post-chaise. It may also reflects Woodforde’s higher income at a somewhat later stage in his life and he certainly bought some rather more expensive meals on this occasion. However, we do need to consider the cost of his horse. On other days, when Woodforde hired a horse, he paid two shillings and six pence a day. But in 1761 he was using his own horse and simply to have his horse available and ‘ready-to-go’ when he wanted to leave Oxford he incurred considerable long-term stabling costs. Later in the year, he rode his own horse back to Oxford, and, on the 1st June 1774 he agreed to stable his horse in Jackson’s Livery Stable on Holliwell Street. In return for feeding his horse three times a day, he agreed to pay Mr Jackson eight shillings a week. The annual cost would therefore

have been 416 shillings or 20 pounds and 16 shillings. This sum would approach the annual earnings of some agricultural labourers.

Bibliographical note

Woodforde’s diaries have been painstakingly transcribed and published in full, for the first time, in recent years by the Parson Woodforde society in 17 volumes, a tremendous public service for those interested in the period. This account was taken from: Winstanley, R.L., The Ansford Diary of James Woodforde. Volume 1: 1759-1763 (1989) and Winstanley, R.L., The Oxford and Somerset Diary of James Woodforde 1774-1775 (1998). Copies can be purchased from the Parson Woodforde Society. These are highly recommended, but for those who want something shorter (and/or cheaper) there are earlier heavily abridged versions which easily be purchased online. However, readers should be aware that the selection criteria made by editors in any abridged diary inevitably make the diaries unrepresentative of the full account in multiple ways, which can mislead the unwary. Tastes vary as to what is most and least interesting and the editors’ abridgements will, for that reason, often excise the material some readers will find most interesting. Moreover, the abridged editions of Woodforde are not in every case always absolutely accurate in their transcriptions. Note that in the interests of accessibility and clarity (rather than conventional academic practice) I have in places modified Woodforde’s punctuation, spelling and capitalisation. However, in order to preserve the flavour of Woodforde’s account, I have not done so consistently. The use of square brackets ‘[]’ indicates insertions by me into Woodforde’s narrative.

Leigh Shaw-Taylor 2017