Sunday Times (Sydney, NSW : 1895 - 1930), Sunday 11 March 1928, page 13

National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article122811639

FATAL DRIVE RECALLED : WHY THE

. HORSES DANCED AND PRANCED

REMARKABLE GHOST S70RY

The students of the psychic will find much to wonder at in the strange story of

the 'Phantom Coachdriver' as it lias been popularly called.

Just ordinary people when faced with the facts of the story will be equally mystified.

^yHAT malevolent destiny marked

out old George, the coachman, for

such a fate, and why did the ghostlyvistor appear but ouce after causingdisaster and disappear.

The names of the towns mentionedI

here are fictitious, and several of the

alive. When names arc mentioned theyare also similarly disguised. But thefacts are vouched for.

The coach to Warrigal left the railway down at G p.m. every Thursday.

It was just 30 miles to this outlyingtown, which served as a. centre from a

big farming district.

The railway had but newly come to

Brassley, and a mushroom town hadarisen around the brand new station,

but the old-established town of Wnrrigal was still the bigger of the two.

Old George Hanson had been drivingcoaches for twenty years.

'

Long overland trips that took daysto accomplish.

He was an experienced man, and

handled his big team of horses with a

mastery that was the envy of everydriver in the district.

George had never had an accident,

and rarely was his coach delayed.

Outlying farmers, seeing the trail of

. dust left by George and his coach as it

passed, could almost set their watchesby: him.

One day a' passenger was seated upon the box with George.

: ? The coachman was not a great talker,

but was an excellent listener.

:- The man on top was making conver

. sation just to while away the time.:

George may, or may not, have been

listening, but his next remark was an

listening, but his next remark was an

indication that he was not.

'That's where lie is; hiding behind them trees.

'He's been there a forntightnow.'

The passenger was considerably sur

prised. He had not time to make anyremark before the coach drew abreast

of the trees which George had pointedto.

Here an extraordinary thing happened.

It was broad daylight, yet the horsesseemed to show distinct signs of un

easiness.

There was apparently nothing to

cause this; yet they trembled as witha great fear.

George spoke coaxingly to them as

they reared and plunged about the road.

,The . passengers inside became

alarmed; but very soon George had his;horses quietened and running alongsmoothly again.

\HORSES' CONDUCT.

,_ George would give his companion no

'infoimation concerning the strange^conduct of the horses.

w$LNeither would he give any clue that

^night lead to an explanation of theSsgfetrnnge remarks ho made before he

reached the spot where the incident oc

curred.

Everything went smoothly for the

rest of the journey.The coach arrived in Warrigal dead

on time.

George was a busy man.

He was to leave again a few hourslater with a big list of passengers, who

were catching the night train to

Sydney.

Sydney.It was a full coach that pulled out

of the Royal Hotel yard on that me

morable Thursday night, at 6.

The weather had been threateningfor some- time, and shortly after the

rain came down in torrents, and the

night was pitch dark.

Half-way to the township the coachpulled up with a grinding of brake'sand a snorting and pawing of horses.

A HOLD-UP.

Peering out into the darkness, one ofthe passengers saw a little, old man

standing in the centre of the road, withhis arms held out, as if to stop' the

coach.

How he had not been run down in

the darkness was a mystery.

George, the coachman, shouted

out something in a loud voice that

was not audible, with the roar of

the wind and the patter of the

rain.

He seemed badly scared, and, draw

ing ins winy, uug&tju me nurses m

order to set them going again.

But they never moved.

A curious whimper, like the cry of

a child, seemed to come from one of the

leaders, but they sat back on their

haunches as the flail of the whip bit

into their hides, but made no movement

forward in response to the urge of thedriver.

Then the listener heard Georgespeaking in a pleading voice.

George, the gruff, the roughandready, the best horseman in the district,

was pleading with his horses, the only

things he loved, to go on.

There was something sinister, some

thing inhuman, about the little figure

that was now standing by the side of

the coach.

The man d-rew in his head, and putit out again almost at once.

He had just time to see the figure of

the stranger climbing on top to thedrivor's seat with remarkable celerity,

for one who appeared to be well advanced in years.

With a wild -plunge the* coach was

lugged into motion again.

It plunged wildly about the road, and

was in danger of overturning. The

sound of a struggle could be heard out

side, and the hoarse voice of Georgeraised in anger.

Then silence.

The coach still rolled from side to

side drunkenly, and the pace seemed'

terrific to the occupants inside.

The wind and rain seemed to have

The wind and rain seemed to have

increased in ferocity, and the occupantsof the coach, mostly men, were white

with dismay.The Gorge was only a mile away, the

mo.st dangerous part of the trip, wherethe sheer walls of a precipice ran level'

with the road during a sharp descent

on to the level country below.

The pace at which they were

travelling — to what appeared to be

certain destruction — caused several

of the occupants to lean out of tho

windows to find out what was tho

metter. .

The darkness was intense, and the

rushing'

of the wind and the' swish

of the rain was blinding.

Just then the light became better,

and, straining eyes in the darkness, the

watchers were horrified at what they

saw.

Perched on the driving seat was thelittle man.

He had his feet set wide apart, and

his clothes were flying behind him in

tho wind.

His grip on the fear-maddened horses

was a firm one, but they were badly out

of control.

His outline looked weirdly white in

the darkness, and on coming out of a

dark spot into a lighter one, they were

horrified to see that he was a skeleton.

The stark whiteness of his limbs

seemed to leap out of the darkness, andhis grinning leer was dreadful to see.

Frozen with horror, the watchers re

mained spellbound at the windows, until

the sheer bulk of the Gorge rose up be

fore them like an ironclad.

With a sickening thud and a scream

which will linger for ever in the me

mory of the occupants, the coach went

hurtling over the side.

DEAD ON SEAT.

Next morning they found the coach

and passengers.

Strangely enough, though badly

shaken, the passengers were uninjured.

The strangest thing of all was the

discovery of George, dead on the driver's

seat of the coach.

There was a vivid blue mark on his

throat, as though he had been strangled.

The horses were grazing contentedly

near by.

A broken shaft had released them

from the coach, which had run off tho

roadway near the gorge.

roadway near the gorge.

The coach had fallen about ten feet,

and lodged on a ledge about 30ft wide.

No trace of the mad driver of the night

before, the strange old man who had

brought destruction in his wake, was

to be seen.

Before help arrived, several of the

more intrepid passengers had endeavored

to get back to the road. They went

in search of a way out, and came upon

a little cave — nothing more than a de

pression in the walls of the cliff — that

had been scooped out by the action of

wind and rain.

They peered into the cave and

drew back horified. A figure of a

man was lying stretched out on the

floor of tho cavern. His bones were

showing through the old suit that

ho had been wearing when death

came.

Coming nearer, one of the men struck

a match. It was the skeleton figuro

that had driven the coach over thecliff the night before.

The two men who had seen the ghostly

driver the night before swore to it, even

to the long coat which they saw flying in

the wind when the coach went over tho

side.

The police say the marks on the

skeleton suggest that lie had been

murdered. His neck was broken.

.But by whom they were unablo to

say.

Just what part George the coachman

played in the tragedy that afterwards

brought summary vengeance is only a

matter for speculation. No facts were

brought to light that would help to elu

cidate the mystery of the phantomcoachman and his terrible vengeance.

First One (reading) ; 'Just fancy, beer sixpence a gallon I'

Second One: 'Really, where?'

First One: 'Not really — but just fancy!'