Hrs.

Mins.

1889.

F. W. Shorland

44

49

1891.

P. A. Ransom

43

25

1892.

R. H. Carlisle

32

55

1894.

G. P. Mills

29

28

,,

C. C. Fontaine

28

27

1895.

W. J. Neason

27

38

1897.

J. Hunt

26

47

1899.

F. R. Goodwin (motor-paced)

25

26

1903.

F. Wright (unpaced)

31

48

1904.

E. H. Grimsdell

28

3

,,

G. A. Olley

27

10

1905.

E. H. Grimsdell

26

10

,,

R. Shirley

23

43

A tricycle record, unpaced, made by F. W. Wesley in 1905, at 32 hours 42 minutes yet stands.

Tandem safety records:—

Hrs.

Mins.

1894.

E. Oxborrow and H. Sansom

27

33

1905.

E. Bright and P. H. Miles (unpaced)

27

54

XIX

Eaton Socon, its long straggling street and beautiful church-tower, left behind, the road descends to the “river Kym,” as the guidebooks call the tiny stream which, bordered by marshes, crosses under the road at a point known as Cross Hall. The “river Kym” certainly is, or was, important enough to confer its name upon the neighbouring townlet of Kimbolton, but the country folk now only know it as Weston Brook. The descent to it has of late years acquired the name of “Chicken Hill,” given by the North Roaders, racing cyclists, who must often have run over the fowls kept by the people of a cottage at the bottom. This is succeeded by Diddington Bridge, a picturesque, white-painted timber structure spanning the little Diddington Brook, which has eaten its way deeply into the earth, and is romantically shaded by tall trees and bordered by the undergrowth that fills the pretty hollow.

The slight rise from this spot is succeeded by an easy descent into narrow-streeted Buckden, one of those old “thoroughfare” coaching villages which imagined themselves on the way to becoming towns in the fine, free-handed old days. The huge bulk of the “George” is eloquent of this, with its fifteen windows in a row, and the signs still noticeable in the brickwork, showing where the house was doubled in size at the period of its greatest prosperity. Nowadays the “George” is all too large for its trade, and a portion of it is converted into shops. As for the interminable rooms and passages above, they echo hollow to the infrequent footfall, where they were once informed with a cheerful bustle and continuous arrival and departure. There was a period, a few years ago, when the North Road Club’s road-racing events brought crowds of cyclists and busy times once more to the “George,” but they are irretrievably gone.

To and from Buckden and Welwyn in coaching times drove every day the notable Cartwright, of the York “Express”; a day’s work of about seventy miles. Cartwright was something more than a coachman, being himself landlord of the “George” at Buckden, and horsing one or two of the stages over which he drove. “Peter Pry,” one of the old Sporting Magazine’s coaching critics, waxes eloquent over him. It was a vile day when, to sample Cartwright’s quality, he set out by the York “Express” from London for Grantham; but neither the weather nor the scenery, nor anything in Heaven or Earth drew his attention from Cartwright. He starts at once with being struck at Welwyn with Cartwright’s graceful and easy way of mounting the box, and then proceeds to make a kind of admiring inventory of his person. Thus, he might have been considered to be under fifty years of age, bony, without fat; healthy looking, evidently the effect of abstemiousness; not too tall, but just the size to sit gracefully and powerfully. His right hand and whip were beautifully in unison; he kept his horses like clock-work, and to see the refinement with which he managed the whip was well worth riding many hours on a wet day. But the occasions on which he used the whip were rare, although the tits were only fair, and not by any means first-rate. No dandy, but equipped most respectably and modestly, and with good taste, he was the idol of the road, both with old and young; while his manners on the box were respectful, communicative without impertinence, and untarnished with slang. Acquainted with everybody and every occupation within his sphere, he was an entertaining companion even to an ordinary traveller; but he enchanted the amateur of coaching with his perfect professional knowledge, which embraced all niceties. His excellent qualities, we are glad to notice, in conclusion, had gained their reward; he was well-to-do, lived regularly, had a happy family, and envied neither lord nor peasant.

Welwyn, the road to Buckden, and Buckden itself seem quite lonely without this figure of all the virtues and the graces.