"Lord William! Who would have thought it! How much you have improved in driving! Do you recollect when you upset the dog-cart close to that pond?"
"I hope your father is well," I replied, anxious to change the conversation; "and Sally—I mean Miss Sadbroke—let the coachman and guard have a glass of your cream of the valley."
"Pray alight, my Lord," said the coachman, "I was not aware who I had the honour of addressing. Dick, show his Lordship into the bar."
I jumped down, rushed into the well-known snuggery, shook hands with poor old Sadgrove, who was a victim to what he called the "rheumatiz," quaffed a glass of bright, sparkling ale, threw down a crown piece, kissed my hand to the blooming girl, and mounted the box, not a little elated with my adventure. But to quit this spot of juvenile reminiscences. We trotted past my tutor's house on the green, where I was cheered by the boys of the village school, and, after an agreeable drive, reached Reading and then Newbury. Here the passengers were allowed twenty minutes for dinner, where we (I can answer for myself) did ample justice to the fare, which consisted of a splendid boiled leg of mutton and a ham-and-veal pie.
"I go no further, gentlemen," said the coachman.
"All right," I responded, handing him a gold seven-shilling piece, then a current coin of the realm.
"Good morning! and thank you, my Lord," replied the deposed monarch of the whip. "I've told Mr. Dennis (commonly called Parson Dennis) that your Lordship has your driving-gloves on."
Again mounting the box, I found myself seated by one of the smartest men I ever met with at that period on the road. There was an air of conceit about him that was truly amusing, and it was rendered doubly so by his affected style of conversation. Unlike other dragsmen, he was dressed in the plainest style imaginable—a well-brushed black beaver hat, glossier than silk; a brown cutaway coat, dark Oxford mixed overalls, highly-polished Wellington boots, and fawn-coloured double kid gloves. The first object of my new companion was to inform me that he was well born, that he had been educated at Oxford, and that he was the most popular man at Bath; indeed, so much so that he was called the Beau Nash of the road. Unquestionably, according to his own showing, he was entitled to that distinction, for he offered to point out all the sights of the English Montpellier, including the assemblies, theatre, pump-room, crescents, gardens, walks, and abbey. So delighted was I with the dandified manner of my companion that the journey passed rapidly away.
On leaving Marlborough, he offered me the reins, which I accepted; and during the last stage he begged I would accept a pinch of the best Petersham mixture, informing me that it was a present from the noble Lord of that name, to whom he had been presented by an old Oxford acquaintance. Upon reaching the city of Bladud and driving up to the "York House," Mr. Dennis, with the air of Louis le Grand, politely took off his hat, wished me good evening, thanked me for my gratuity, and said that if I mentioned his name at the hotel every attention would be paid to me.
As a contrast to the above, let me show how our great-grandfathers travelled in 1739. Tennant writes as follows:—