The Story of the Limousine
If Backseats Could Talk:
Limousine Stories
First, the greatest story of them all,
care of Lord Montagu of Beaulieu,
who wrote the definitive book on chauffeurs
"Home James"
(email us if you'd like a copy -- it's out of
print, but we'll track down a copy for you):
James, from the conversation between
an owner and the new chauffeur:
"What is your name?"
"James, Your Grace."
"Christian name or surname?"
"Christian name, Your Grace."
"I always call my servants by their surnames.
What is yours?"
"Darling, Your Grace."
"Home, James."
-From "Home James," Title Page and pg. 134
Lord Montague described various chauffeur difficulties and
eccentricities from the early days, such as the chauffeur
who failed to receive a commission on his boss' new car.
The man put a sack of rocks in the trunk. The rattle
disturbed the owner. When he asked, the chauffeur said he
didn't hear a thing. And whenever the car went to the dealer
for inspection, the noise magically disappeared.
The problem was ultimately resolved when a mechanic
realized that the problem was not mechanical.
He cured it "With soft soap... to the chauffeur’s palm."
£10, that is, for the chauffeur. Now satisfied with a
commission, the chauffeur stopped
putting the rocks in the trunk.
The chauffeur is a strange beast, as the
great inventor, Leo Hendrik Baekeland, discovered.
In 1907 he described his first chauffeur:
"Very soon I engaged a machinist to
help me. The poor fellow was an Englishman who had had varied experience with almost any
kind of machinery. The eager interest with which he took to his new job was shown by the
encouraging cheerfulness he displayed during the first breakdowns; but somehow or other he
was not prepared to cope with all the ‘cussedness’ which was stored up for him
in that innocent-looking vehicle... Finally, overcome and
distracted by too many ever-recurring troubles, he took hopelessly to drink and ran
away."
- From "A Family Motor Tour Through Europe"
by Leo Hendrik Baekeland; ppg. 3-4
Mr. Baekeland soon enough found a suitable chauffeur:
"... he is an American... and is a married man of
steady and
temperate habits. An excellent coachman, he is very
observant of the rules of the road and makes a good driver.
As to his mechanical training... [he] now understands
thoroughly every part of the machinery of this
particular make of car."
He took this man on a tour of Europe. In our the
book, we
described Mr. Baekeland's encounter with fellow American
travelers and their chauffeur problems:
Others were not so fortunate as Mr. Baekeland. He describes several encounters with fellow motorists whose chauffeurs were the source of consternation. On a tour of England, one American family "gave up their auto in disgust because they could not make their cockney chauffeur stop willingly at little villages of their own liking, which their gasoline lord designated sneeringly as ‘one-heyed places.’" Another "terror-stricken" family stopped an excursion mid-way through the mountains of France on account of the chauffeur "who wanted to live up to his reputation of race-winning exploits." Baekeland further describes a friend who "like too many others, is absolutely dependent on his chauffeur," and was stuck for weeks amidst a tour while awaiting repair of the car. Each time it appeared the car was fixed there was some other problem and delay. Until, that is, he "discovered that his chauffeur was much smitten with the charms of the chambermaid of the hotel and contrived to ‘queer’ his machine to insure a longer stay"
Onward to the modern day, and we see that chauffeurs
aren't so much the problem any more -- well, they can be,
but passengers can be just as bad. We described one
adventure of a Washington, D.C. chauffeur:
A chauffeur, Mohammed, relates how a client drove him
to madness -- and his novel solution. "She went through
drivers like crazy," he says. "Six chauffeurs in as many
months. And secretaries, too." An especially grumpy
("ugly does not describe her," he says) Washington, DC,
attorney, she was the worst sort of backseat driver --
and social menace. "She makes you feel bad about
yourself," he laments. "She’s always in a rush. She
watches your speed, if you signal, which lane you’re in.
She says, ‘slow down, speed up, watch for that car.
She won’t let you do your job. She wants
to be the driver."
Returning from the airport at rush hour, she insisted
Mohammed take a certain route. "Ma’am," he said, "I’m
sorry, it’s 4:30, and it’s one-way now." The woman insisted.
"OK, fine," he said, knowing better than to argue. He
turned the car into the oncoming traffic. "See?" Her pride
wouldn’t let go. "I don’t understand it, this is stupid,"
she barked. The car now moving with, not against, traffic,
and Mohammed employing every trick in the book to make
time, the imperious rider declared that he was in the
wrong lane. "It’s ok, Ma’am," he explained. "This lane
is open during rush hour." When she decried his
uselessness and demanded he move over, that was it.
He steered three lanes over and stopped. Popping the
trunk, he dumped her bags curbside, opened the
door, and declared, "Out!" Stunned, she protested.
"You can’t do this! You’re going to lose my business."
Mohammed stood firm. "Ma’am, just get out," he said.
"And that $400 you owe me: keep it. You can use it
to buy yourself a personality."
And so goes the ever lovely battle between
passenger and servant
Every chauffeur has a story...
Every passenger has a story...
We'd like to help bring them out
Passengers, and Chauffeurs,
Send us your stories!
Hanging Out: The Chauffeur's Pastime
(Photo by Michael L. Bromley)
Email us your agony or your fun!
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