In the "Journey to London," written at the end of Vanbrugh's life, and not finished, there is a very amusing account of the manner in which a country squire and family travelled up to London in the seventeenth century.
James. They have added two cart-horses to the four old mares, because my lady will have it said she came to town in her coach-and-six; and ha! ha! heavy George, the ploughman, rides postilion!
Uncle Richard. Very well; the journey begins as it should do—James!
James. Sir!
Uncle R. Dost know whether they bring all the children with them?
James. Only Squire Humphry and Miss Betty, Sir; the other six are put to board at half-a-crown a week a head with Joan Growse, at Smoke-dunghill Farm.
Uncle R. The Lord have mercy upon all good folks! What work will these people make! Dost know when they'll be here?
James. John says, Sir, they'd have been here last night, but that the old wheezy-belly horse tired, and the two fore-wheels came crash down at once in Waggon-rut Lane. Sir, they were cruelly loaden, as I understand. My lady herself, he says, laid on four mail trunks, besides the great deal-box, which fat Tom sat upon behind.
Uncle R. So.
James. Then within the coach there was Sir Francis, my lady, the great fat lap-dog, Squire Humphry, Miss Betty, my lady's maid, Mrs. Handy, and Doll Tripe, the cook—but she puked with sitting backward, so they mounted her into the coach-box.