Carriages & Coaches: Their History & Their EvolutionStraus, Ralph
History
Carriages & Coaches: Their History & Their Evolution
Straus, Ralph
Carriages and carts
“When our _Stratford_ Tub,” writes Ned Ward, “by the
Assistance of its Carrionly Tits of different colours,
had outrun the Smoothness of the Road, and enter’d upon
_London_-Stones, with as frightful a Rumbling as an empty
_Hay-Cart_, our Leathern-Conveniency[39] being bound in
the Braces to its good Behaviour, had no more Sway than a
_Funeral Hearse_, or a _Country-Waggon_, that we were jumbled
about like so many _Pease_ in a Childs-Rattle, running, at
every Kennel-Jolt, a great hazard of a Dislocation: This
we endured till we were brought within White-Chappel Bars,
where we Lighted from our Stubborn Caravan, with our Elbows
and Shoulders as Black and Blew as a _Rural Joan_, that had
been under the Pinches of an Angry _Fairy_. Our weary Limbs
being rather more Tir’d than Refresh’d, by the Thumps and
Tosses of our ill-contriv’d Engine, as unfit to move upon a
Rugged Pavement as a Gouty Sinner is to valt o’er _London
Bridge_, with his Boots on. For my part, said I, if this be
the Pleasure of Riding in a Coach thro’ _London-Streets_,
may those that like it enjoy it, for it has loosen’d my
Joynts in so short a Passage, that I shall scarce recover
my former Strength this Fortnight; and, indeed, of the two,
I would rather chuse to cry _Mouse-Traps_ for a Livelihood,
than be oblig’d every day to be drag’d about Town under such
uneasiness; and if the Qualities Coaches are as troublesome
as this, I would not be bound to do their Pennance for their
Estates. You must consider, says my Friend, you have not the
right Knack of Humouring the Coaches Motion; for there is as
much Art in Sitting in a coach finely, as there is in riding
the Great Horse; and many a younger Brother has got a good
Fortune by his Genteel Stepping in and out, when he pays a
Visit to her Ladyship.”
In Fleet Street, it seems, things were very bad. “The Ratling of
Coaches,” says Ward, “loud as the _Cataracts_ of _Nile_ Rob’d me of my
Hearing, and put my Head into as much disorder as the untunable Hollows
of a Rural Mob at a Country _Bull-Baiting_.” More trouble followed
later in the day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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