Coach building’s influential Past Masters

Pictured above: John Philipson trialing the joint venture steam road carriage

With our Livery Company’s 350th anniversary fast approaching, our focus turns to the trades which gave rise to the Company’s foundation: coach building and harness making. Scrolling through the Past Masters’ list reveals many names synonymous with England’s finest carriage builders: Thrupp, Hooper, Lawton and Hopkinson, to name but a few.

As the automobile replaced the harness horse as king of the road after 1900, fewer names jump off the page, but one did catch my eye, John Philipson; who was Master of the Company in 1917. I had come across the name during research for a recent article, but the dates did not match. It appears that our Past Master was actually the son of the gentleman I had written about. Nonetheless, the story of the family makes interesting reading, particularly as John Philipson senior was not only a talented engineer, but also a coach builder and harness maker of great repute.

Turn the clock back 150 years and it was not uncommon for sporting gentlemen to submit contributions to relevant publications under a pen name. Some did so purely for pleasure and their correspondence was usually featured in the letters’ pages of the publication. Those that were particularly successful became salaried contributors to such well known journals as the Sporting Magazine and The Field. Some of their pseudonyms became household names: Henry Hall Dixon, the ‘Druid’, who wrote ‘Silk and Scarlett’, Alfred Pullin, who, as ‘Old Ebor’, wrote about rugby and cricket for 40 years and William Fairhurst, the ‘Olympian’, who launched the Football Field and Sports Telegram in 1884.

Other interesting names included, ‘Tityrus’, ‘Raoul Duke’, ‘Sabretache’ and the ‘Blower’. Perhaps they wished to hide their identities, but, quite ironically, some did so behind pen names so outlandish that they still attracted a lot of attention.

The world of equine sport was no exception. Better known to hunting and coaching men of the period as, ‘Nimrod’, Charles James Apperley became the best known of them all. His work was so well paid that it allowed him to keep a string of hunters and devote his life to driving coaches on his beloved ‘road’ and riding to hounds. His work his still read by today’s coachmen, nearly 200 years after it was written.

‘Nimshivich’ wrote for The Field magazine. His work showed great understanding of both harness making and coach building and he was clearly a very knowledgeable and technical craftsman. His written correspondence with other enthusiasts was featured in the magazine, with a regular exchange of letters between the likes of, ‘Speedy’, ‘Charley’ and, ‘Glencairn’; who we now know was Colonel JP Pedler, who recounted wonderful tales of his driving adventures in India. This content was later put into print as a series of essays and included in John Philipson’s detailed book on harness.

The importance of this particular work cannot be underestimated, as the accomplished coachman and academic, Fairman Rogers, remarked that: “all good coachmen should know it by heart” – Rogers penned his Manual of Coaching in 1899, which remains the defining work on the subject. Writing under his own name John wrote the volume on Harness in 1882, which was then followed by, The Technicalities of the Art of Coach-Body Making and The Art and Craft of Coach Building, in 1885 and 1897 respectively.

John Philipson (1832-1898) and ‘Nimshivich’ were actually one and the same; the Managing Director of Atkinson & Philipson, the well-known Newcastle coach builder. The origins of the company can be traced back to 1774, when John Atkinson first set up in business in Newcastle. Interestingly, the company also manufactured railway carriages for a time, even undertaking work for George Stephenson in 1825; still seen by many as the father of the railways. Atkinson’s daughter married George Philipson in 1830 and their son, John, was born two years later.

John was educated at a private academy in the city and grew up surrounded by the business of carriage making. Clearly, the young man paid great attention to what was going on around him, as, quite unbelievably, he then served an apprenticeship learning the trades of coach-body maker, coach smith, axle turner, and mechanical draughtsman. John then gained further experience by spending time at the London firm of Briggs & Co., before returning to dedicate himself to the family concern. Perhaps in recognition of both his and his father George’s efforts, the firm changed its name to Atkinson & Philipson in 1840. He was very progressive in his outlook and superintended the erection of lathes for iron and wood turning, and introduced many improvements in machinery to reduce the physical labour required to make wheels, springs and axles. In 1856 he became managing partner, and in 1864 succeeded his father in the business. John then ran the firm with his brother until 1873, at which point he became the sole proprietor.

Top hat wearing John Philipson on the factory floor

During his career he registered a great number of design patents: a carriage spring with a receptacle formed in each end containing a rubber cushion, rubber buffers to lessen the rattle of carriage windows and a convertible carriage to which a variety of different bodies could be fitted. It was said that the balancing mechanism on the company’s two-wheeled carriages was second to none. He also undertook independent assignments for the Post Office and the government and his designs for parcel vans, ambulances and prison vans were all adopted; leading to him receiving the honorary title of, Designer to the Post Office.

John was highly respected by his peers. He was a member of the Institute of Mechanical Engineers and was made President of the British Association of Carriage Builders in 1895 and Vice President of the Self Propelled Traffic Association in 1896. His final project was in partnership with Toward & Co, when they successfully trialed a steam road carriage, and, at the time of his death, a heavy wagon designed to carry three tons up hill was under construction. He died unexpectedly from complications arising from a bout of influenza at just 66 years of age in 1898.

Without access to our own records it is not possible to confirm whether he was also a liveryman of the Coachmakers, although it seems likely that he was. We do however know that his son continued in his father’s footsteps professionally and went on to become Master Coachmaker in 1917.