Hi Gerald.
Thought you may be interested in a little more of my fathers writings, since you brought up the Hackney coach.I quote my father.
The first Newell I know about is a fellow called Peter Newell. He was my fathers Grandfather. He was a coachman for the Berchcleugh ( I am not quite sure of the spelling but it is pronounced Ber-clew)
He was one of the Douglas clan. Incidently clan means famlily down on the borders. (We are also mixed up with the Nevilles but how I don't know) Peter married a girl called Bryson. That is where the Bryson name gets into my fathers name. I am told she was a cook and a very good one too. Now I am not sure about Peter but either his father or uncle was killed at Colloden 1745.
I do not know anything about Peters brothers except two. One Peter was my Grandfather and Robert was a Sailor and finished up in Canada as a farmer in around Medicne Hat.
My Grandfather married a ? Howden. One of her relations was the first editor of Fur & Feather a book about birds and animals (as the name says) & another was Hansard reporter in the House of Commons. This family moved to London. I never met them but my uncle Willie used to talk a lot about them. The girls were supposed to be very talented. The boys were Merchants and Newspaper men. I forgot my Grandfather had a young sister Elizabeth (called aunt Easy). I can only remember her sitting at a big frame making tapestry. To me she was very old. Anyway she was killed in 1916 when the Zepplin dropped bombs on Edinburgh.
My Grandparents had three boys and one girl. Robert my father the eldest,William 1. he died between his third and fifth birthday. Then William 2. His name was William Owler. Where the Owler came from I don't know. Then Racheal.*********I will leave my fathers writing and start a little later*******
He goes on. " Incidently a story told about my Grandfather ( my fathers father )

Early in the piece he was a cabby owner and one dark stormy night he picked up a fare from one of the hotels and was asked to hurry as the man wanted to catch a train to ? Anyway the horse played up and wouldn't face the storm. The fare abused the Grandfather.
Anyway that night the Tay bridge collapsed and everybody (I think ) on the train were drowned.
The next morning the fare came to see my Grandfather and gave him a gold soveriegn. Unquote. Later his Grandfather worked as a guard on the Berwick-Edinburgh line.
There is lots more but I have probably bored you enough. I just thought that as you mentioned the Hackney cab you may have found the tale interesting.
Roy Newell