Before the making of turnpike roads, waggons had been the usual means of conveyance, and “flying coaches,” as they were at first called, were considered a great improvement. However, fares were high, and even after the introduction of public coaches many people who were not able to afford them still travelled by the slow-going waggon. Here is an account of such a journey from London to Greenwich: “We were twenty-four inside and nine without. It was my lot to sit in the middle with a lusty woman on one side and thin man on the other. ‘Open the windows,’ said the former, and she had a child on her lap whose hands were besmeared with gingerbread. ‘It can’t be opened,’ said a little prim coxcomb, ‘or I shall catch cold.’ ‘But I say it shall, sir,’ said a butcher who sat opposite, and the butcher opened it, but as he stood or rather bent forward to do this, the caravan came into a rut, and the butcher’s head, by the suddenness of the jolt, came into contact with that of the woman who sat next to me, and made her nose bleed. He begged her pardon, and she gave him a slap in the face that sounded through the whole caravan. Two sailors that were seated near the helm of the machine, ordered the driver to cast anchor at the next public-house. He did so, and the woman next me called for a pint of ale, which she offered to me, after she had emptied about a half of it, observing, ‘that as how she loved ale mightily.’ I could not drink, at which she took offence.... A violent dispute arose between the two stout-looking men, the one a recruiting sergeant, the other a gentleman’s coachman, about the Rights of Man. Another dispute afterwards was about politics, which was carried on with such warmth as to draw the attention of the company to the head of the caravan, where the combatants sat wedged together like two pounds of Epping butter, whilst a child constantly roared on the other side, and the mother abused the two politicians for frightening her babe. The heat was now so great that all the windows were opened, and with the fresh air entered clouds of dust, for the body of the machine is but a few inches from the surface of the road.” If one can imagine this kind of thing continuing hour after hour, while one’s bones ached with the cramp, and one was stupefied with the noise and smell, one gains some idea of the delights of waggon travelling. The increase in driving led to great improvement in the roads. Even the “bagmen” of the country, whom we call commercial travellers, renounced their bags and adopted the gig, which was soon introduced into Hyde Park in a glorified form.