Lord William Pitt Lennox

Summary

Lord William Pitt Lennox Coaching, with Anecdotes of the Road

Then the excitement as the well-appointed "drag" drove through the village, the guard sounding his cheerful horn, and the coach pulled up for a snack at a cleanly wayside public-house, where the buxom landlady and the pretty barmaid dispensed the creature comforts to the hungry guests, their appetites sharpened by a drive of some twenty or five-and-twenty miles.
They then turn to the rail, declaring that, instead of the "balmy odours" of nature—her breath upon the breeze—the traveller is nearly suffocated with the rank smell of oil, smoke, gas, and sulphur.
Source: Gutenberg

Lord William Pitt Lennox Coaching, with Anecdotes of the Road

Such was the turnpike gate in bygone days.
Few sights were more amusing than the "White Horse Cellar," Piccadilly, in the old times of coaching. What a confusion—what a Babel of tongues! The tumult, the noise, was worthy the pen of a Boz, or the pencil of Cruikshank. People hurrying hither and thither, some who had come too soon, others too late. There were carriages, hackney-coaches, vans, carts, and barrows; porters jostling, touters swearing, cads elbowing, coachmen wrangling, passengers grumbling, men pushing, women scolding.
Source: Gutenberg

Lord William Pitt Lennox Coaching, with Anecdotes of the Road

It is painted green, picked out with red, evidently an old stage-coach metamorphosed; for a close observer might perceive the words "Chatham and Rochester," partly defaced, and painted over with a fancy crest and motto; the driver sitting, like a journeyman tailor on his board, with one servant behind, with a gaudy livery and gold-laced hat; the horses, one blind, two kickers and a bolter, evidently bent on having a way of their own. "Regular Brummagem," exclaims the man of "no trust." "All is not gold that glitters."
Source: Gutenberg

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