The Convict: A TaleJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Convict: A Tale
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Prisoners -- Fiction
The external appearance of the place was not at all deceptive. The
march of improvement was not a quick march in Barhampton. In fact, in
the space of fifty years, but one improvement had been made in the
town, and the audacious and reforming mayor, who had sanctioned,
recommended, and successfully carried out this act of innovation, had
been held in execration ever since by a considerable portion of his
fellow-townsmen. The deed I speak of was the enlargement of the
High-street, and the giving it as near as possible a straightforward
direction. It would now admit two carriages, or even waggons, abreast
in every part; formerly only one could pass, except at particular
places, where a greater expansion had been purposely given to the
road, in order to prevent the comers up and goers down from jamming
each other together immovably. In previous times, also, this street
had pursued a sort of zigzag direction, which nearly doubled its
length, and this had evidently been done, not for the purpose of
avoiding the acclivities, but rather for that of finding them out; for
even in going down the hill, carriages had to mount as often, though
not so far at any one time, as they had to descend; and in coming up,
one rise seemed only to be overcome in order to go down and seek for
another.
The same innovating magistrate who had committed the heinous act of
straightening and widening the street, had expressed an antipathy to
the old town gates, and their heavy oaken doors, with portcullis and
draw-bridge; but the whole town rose as one man to resist his rash and
horrible proceedings. In vain he showed that more than one horse had
taken fright in going over the clattering, rickety, old bridge; in
vain he pointed out that a very respectable old lady had broken her
neck at the same spot, by a fall into the ditch. The people said that
the horses were mad and the lady drunk, to do such things; and the
mayor died, like all great patriots, before he saw his schemes for the
improvement of his native place carried into full accomplishment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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