“‘Thank you, we don’t accommodate gentlemen of his profession. They make room for him when they want him at the county gaol.’
“‘Who and what is he?’
“‘Why, don’t you know him? That’s the hangman; and he brings that there trunk with him to take away his perquisites, which is the wearing apparel of the poor wretch he’s a-going to swing off at eight o’clock this morning; and the mail being so late, he has only just saved his bacon this journey.’”
Having finished his tale, the gray man looked hard at me, and again uttered his favourite “Y-e-s,” which this time I was half inclined to interpret into a warning to his friend that, whilst encouraging outsiders in the bagman’s room, they might be entertaining an executioner unawares.
Travelling by public conveyances naturally leads to strange rencounters. It has often happened that wealth has been acquired, lost friends restored, estates bought and sold, etc., entirely through accidental meetings on the road. Men without heirs have been known in many instances to adopt a fellow-traveller, either from the fact of finding a person possessing the same name, or from some trifling civility or sacrifice being made in their favour by a stranger during a long and perhaps irksome journey.
There is no doubt people became acquainted, as a general rule, and shook off the rigid forms of etiquette—so essentially English—much more readily during the days of the coach travelling than now; but on the other hand, one may escape more quickly from objectionable fellow-travellers, from whom in the coaching days there was no escape till the end of the journey.
This inconvenience was more felt on the Continent than in England, where the passengers were divided into three lots, or compartments—front, back, and inside; whereas the interior of the diligence, carrying ten persons, contained barely room for each person to sit upright.
I was once returning from Madrid to Paris, after having accomplished a riding tour through Spain, visiting most of the principal towns. On quitting Madrid I rode to Bayonne, where, my horse having a bad sore back, I left him, and proceeded by diligence.
Some consternation was caused on our arrival at the hotel at Bayonne by the mispronunciation of one of my travelling companions.