Travels in England in 1782 | Page 3

hour by giving you
the description of a pleasing one.

CHAPTER II
.

London, 2nd June.
This morning those of us who were fellow passengers together in the
great cabin, being six in number, requested to be set on shore in a boat,
a little before the vessel got to Dartford, which is still sixteen miles
from London. This expedient is generally adopted, instead of going up
the Thames, towards London, where on account of the astonishing

number of ships, which are always more crowded together the nearer
you approach the city, it frequently requires many days before a ship
can finish her passage. He therefore who wishes to lose no time
unnecessarily, and wishes also to avoid other inconveniences, such as
frequent stoppages, and perhaps, some alarming dashings against other
ships, prefers travelling those few miles by land in a post-chaise, which
is not very expensive, especially when three join together, as three
passengers pay no more than one. This indulgence is allowed by act of
parliament.
As we left the vessel we were honoured with a general huzza, or in the
English phrase with three cheers, echoed from the German sailors of
our ship. This nautical style of bidding their friends farewell our
Germans have learned from the English. The cliff where we landed was
white and chalky, and as the distance was not great, nor other means of
conveyance at hand, we resolved to go on foot to Dartford:
immediately on landing we had a pretty steep hill to climb, and that
gained, we arrived at the first English village, where an uncommon
neatness in the structure of the houses, which in general are built with
red bricks and flat roofs, struck me with a pleasing surprise, especially
when I compared them with the long, rambling, inconvenient, and
singularly mean cottages of our peasants. We now continued our way
through the different villages, each furnished with his staff, and thus
exhibited no remote resemblance of a caravan. Some few people who
met us seemed to stare at us, struck, perhaps, by the singularity of our
dress, or the peculiarity of our manner of travelling. On our route we
passed a wood where a troop of gipsies had taken up their abode around
a fire under a tree. The country, as we continued to advance, became
more and more beautiful. Naturally, perhaps, the earth is everywhere
pretty much alike, but how different is it rendered by art! How different
is that on which I now tread from ours, and every other spot I have ever
seen. The soil is rich even to exuberance, the verdure of the trees and
hedges, in short the whole of this paradisaical region is without a
parallel! The roads too are incomparable; I am astonished how they
have got them so firm and solid; every step I took I felt, and was
conscious it was English ground on which I trod.
We breakfasted at Dartford. Here, for the first time, I saw an English
soldier, in his red uniform, his hair cut short and combed back on his

forehead, so as to afford a full view of his fine, broad, manly face. Here
too I first saw (what I deemed a true English fight) in the street, two
boys boxing.
Our little party now separated, and got into two post-chaises, each of
which hold three persons, though it must be owned three cannot sit
quite so commodiously in these chaises as two: the hire of a post-chaise
is a shilling for every English mile. They may be compared to our extra
posts, because they are to be had at all times. But these carriages are
very neat and lightly built, so that you hardly perceive their motion as
they roll along these firm smooth roads; they have windows in front,
and on both sides. The horses are generally good, and the postillions
particularly smart and active, and always ride on a full trot. The one we
had wore his hair cut short, a round hat, and a brown jacket of tolerable
fine cloth, with a nosegay in his bosom. Now and then, when he drove
very hard, he looked round, and with a smile seemed to solicit our
approbation. A thousand charming spots, and beautiful landscapes, on
which my eye would long have dwelt with rapture, were now rapidly
passed with the speed of an arrow.
Our road appeared to be undulatory, and our journey, like the journey
of life, seemed to be a pretty regular alternation of up hill and down,
and here and there it was diversified with copses and woods; the
majestic Thames every now and then, like a little forest of masts, rising
to our view, and anon losing itself among the delightful towns and
villages. The amazing large