William Avery (1819-1902) was my 2nd great grandfather. His occupation was that of a coachman, and historical records suggest he was most likely employed by a wealthy family in Lee Park, Manor Park, or Lee Road in the London suburb of Lee, Kent, England, during the Victorian era between 1844 and about 1875. Given his residence in Eastdown Park near Lee Manor House from before 1861 to after 1871, it's highly probable that he worked for the prominent Baring family, owners of Lee Manor House since 1796. The Barings were influential merchant bankers who founded Barings Bank, one of the world's oldest merchant banks, and their wealth from international finance would have easily supported a full stable staff including coachmen.
At age 20, he was listed on the 1841 census as a servant employed at the Chatham Barracks in Gillingham, Chatham, England. Perhaps he was a stable-boy, groom, or even an apprentice coachman. Three years later, at the time of his marriage in 1844, he was identified as a coachman on his marriage banns. Later, on Lee and Lewisham, London, England census records for 1851, 1861, and 1871, he is listed as a coachman.
William had an older brother who was the Riding Master at Hastings St Mary in the Castle in Sussex. Perhaps he was responsible for helping William become a coachman, as such family connections were common in securing positions in the equestrian trades.
Victorian London Travel
In Victorian London (1837-1901), most people got around on foot. In fact, a distance of five or six miles—one way—was often traveled daily to work, the marketplace, or to church. Only the wealthy upper class had the means to travel by horse. Coach travel was not only expensive but sometimes dangerous and almost always uncomfortable. Roads were poor, streets were crowded, highwaymen roamed the countryside (though less so by mid-century due to improved policing), and the costs to own a carriage and horses were excessive.
The actual price of a carriage was not prohibitive, but when you add in the cost of horses, feeding them, a place to stable horses in London, along with wages for a coachman, outriders, and grooms, the cost became prohibitive for all but the landed gentry and aristocracy. A typical coachman's weekly wage ranged from 20 to 30 shillings (about £1 to £1.50), often including board and lodging, but the role demanded long hours and exposure to the elements.
Duties of the Coachman in Private Employ
The coachman was in charge of the stables in the manor house, overseeing grooms, stable-boys, and sometimes even blacksmiths for shoeing horses. He would possess great skill in driving, with the ability to handle reins lightly for smooth control, and a good general knowledge of horses. He was responsible for the purchase of feed and grain, ensuring the horses were properly fed and regularly groomed. He was required to watch over the condition of horses, apply remedies for ailments as necessary, and report more serious symptoms when he did not have the skill to treat them. He was expected to clean the coach himself or see that the stable-boy did it properly. The coachman was expected to have horses and coach ready to travel within twenty minutes of notice.
In private service, like that potentially for the Barings, a coachman might also accompany the family on outings, perform errands in town, and maintain harnesses and vehicles. Uniforms were often provided as livery—tailored coats, breeches, boots, and top hats in the employer's colors—to signify status. Accidents were a real risk; for instance, coaching mishaps claimed lives, including that of Sir Henry Harpur, 7th Baronet, in 1819 near Ticknall, highlighting the dangers of poor roads and high speeds.
The Coach
A coach is a large, enclosed, four-wheeled carriage with two or more horses harnessed as a team, driven by a coachman. Coaches generally had a front and a back seat inside, and a small, elevated seat for the driver in front called a coach box. A coach might have a built-in compartment called a boot, and a luggage case for the top of a coach called an imperial. A coach with four horses was called a coach-and-four and weighed a ton. Horses were changed every ten miles. A coach together with the horses, harness, and attendants is a turnout.
There were many different types of coaches, including the private 'Road coach', the 'Hackney coach', the 'Clarence coach' (also known as the “growler” thanks to the noise its wheels made on the cobblestoned streets), the Hansom cab (a fast and nimble transport for gents), and of course the highly romanticized 'Royal Mail Coach' which was used for carrying the mails. Mail coaches also carried a few passengers and traveled 100 to 120 miles in a day, stopping only to change horses and drop off mail. Outside passengers (exposed to the weather) paid half the fare of inside passengers. By the late Victorian era, the rise of railways began to eclipse coaching, with lines like the London and Greenwich Railway (opened 1836) shifting travel patterns, though private coaches remained a symbol of elite status until the automobile's arrival around 1900.
In driving a coach, the coachman used a coachwhip, usually provided with a long lash. Experienced coachmen never used the lash on their horses. They flicked the whip near the ear of the leaders to give them the suggestion to move on or cracked it next to their flank to ask for increased speed.
Coachmen and coach passengers might have worn a box coat, a heavy wool overcoat with or without shoulder capes, used when riding on the box seat, exposing them to all kinds of foul weather.
A coach horse or coacher is used or adapted for drawing a coach, as it is typically heavier and of more compact build than a road horse. They were stylish and showed wonderful action. Coach horse breeds included the Breton, German Oldenburg, Hanoverian, Holsteiner Warmblood, and the Yorkshire Coach Horse.
Sometimes an extra horse, called a cockhorse, was led behind a coach so that it could be hitched before the regular team to assist in passing over steep or difficult terrain.
Coaches were sometimes accompanied by a Dalmatian dog (also known as a coach dog or carriage dog). They would discourage highwaymen and chase off loose animals.
A coach house was a building for keeping a private carriage in and often included stabling for the horses and accommodation for the coachman, groom, or other servants; it was usually an outbuilding on an estate or adjacent to a large house.
A coaching inn, also called coaching house, located along a route followed by horse-drawn coaches, served coach travelers and offered stabling for the horses of stagecoaches and a place to change horses.
Eastdown Park, Lee, Kent
From sometime before 1861 and after 1871, William and his family lived in Eastdown Park, very near the Lee Manor House and other English 'Country Houses' in Lee, Kent (a map from 1872 shows the area). Lee itself has ancient roots, with its woodland nature sparing it from heavy Norman exploitation in the Domesday Book era, and by the Victorian period, it had become a desirable suburb for London's elite due to its proximity to the city and emerging rail links. The Baring family's development of the area in the mid-19th century turned parts of their estate into planned suburbs, reflecting the era's urban expansion.
Perhaps my interest in driving a horse has been passed down in the family genes. [Photo of Biggs, our miniature horse, with his Meadowbrook Cart.]
Sources: Paintings by Charles Cooper Henderson and James Pollard are in the public domain. Definitions and historical material are from Wikipedia, supplemented by additional research on Victorian coaching and Lee history.
A Compelling Tale: The Whip's Whisper
In the misty dawn of 1855, William Avery rose before the sun kissed the rooftops of Lee Manor House, his calloused hands already itching for the reins. At 36, he was no novice to the stables' rhythm—the sharp tang of hay, the warm snort of Hanoverian steeds, and the polished gleam of the Baring family's Clarence coach, its wheels whispering secrets of London's cobblestoned veins. Employed by the illustrious Barings, whose banking empire spanned empires from Britain to the Americas, William's world was one of quiet authority amid opulence he could touch but never own.
His day began in the coach house, a sturdy outbuilding tucked behind the grand manor built nearly a century prior by Thomas Lucas and now the domain of Sir Francis Baring's descendants. As head coachman, William commanded a small realm: two grooms, a stable-boy named Jem, and a pair of Dalmatians that trotted like spotted sentinels. "Lads, see to the harness—polish till it shines like the Queen's crown," he'd bark, his voice steady as the Thames. But his true skill lay in the drive: a light flick of the whip, never striking flesh, just a crack near the leader's ear to urge the team onward. "Horses know a man's heart," he'd say, echoing lessons from his brother, the Riding Master down in Sussex, who had pulled strings to land him this post after his apprenticeship at Chatham Barracks.
One crisp autumn eve, as fog cloaked the Kent countryside, word came from the house: Lady Baring required passage to a soiree in Mayfair, six miles through rutted lanes and bustling streets. William had the coach-and-four ready in fifteen minutes flat—faster than the mandated twenty—his box coat warding off the chill. The Barings' livery, deep blue with gold trim, marked him as their man, a symbol of their status in a city where railways were beginning to rumble, threatening to eclipse the clip-clop of hooves.
As they rattled over Blackheath, a sudden storm lashed the roads, turning them to muck. The lead horse faltered on a steep incline, but William's calm command steadied the team. "Easy now, lads," he murmured, hitching the spare cockhorse he'd wisely brought along. Inside, Lady Baring clutched her pearls, unaware of the peril averted. Highwaymen were rare these days, thanks to Peelers patrolling the routes, but accidents loomed—William knew tales of overturned coaches claiming lives, like the ill-fated Baronet Harpur decades prior.
By journey's end, as the coach pulled up to the glittering townhouse, Lady Baring offered a rare nod. "Well done, Avery. You're the steady hand in a changing world." Back at the stables that night, under the lantern's glow, William groomed the weary horses, his thoughts drifting to his growing family in Eastdown Park. The railways might conquer the mails, carrying post at speeds undreamed, but for the elite, the coachman's art endured—a bridge between old England's romance and the steam-driven future.
Years later, as automobiles began to sputter onto the scenes in the 1890s, William retired, his whip hung in quiet honor. But in the genes passed to descendants—like a drifting cowboy far across the seas—the whisper of the reins lingered, a tale of duty, skill, and the unyielding bond between man and beast in Victorian England's fading glory.
Revised Nov. 28, 2025, courtesy of Drifting Cowboy as edited and enhanced by Grok xAI.
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