Manners and customs of ye Englyshe/A Raylway Statyon. Showynge ye Travellers Refreshynge Themselves.

Illustrated by Richard Doyle

Manners and Customs of ye Englyshe in 1849. No. 21

A Raylway Statyon. Showynge ye Travellers Refreshynge Themselves.


A Raylway Statyon. Showynge ye Travellers Refreshynge Themselves.

[Tueſday, July 31, 1849.]

PREVAILED upon by my Wife to carry her to Bath, as ſhe laid, to go ſee her Aunt Dorothy, but I know ſhe looked more to the Pleaſure of her Trip than any Thing elſe; nevertheless I do think it neceſſary Policy to keep in with her Aunt, who is an and hath a pretty Fortune; and to ſee what Court and Attention I pay her though I do not care 2d. about her! But am mightily troubled to know whether ſhe hath ſunk her Money in an Annuity, which makes me ſomewhat uneaſy at the Charge of our Journey, for what with bare, Cab Hire, and Vails to Dorothy's Servants for their good Word, it did coſt me altogether £6 2s. 6d. To the Great Weſtern Station in a Cab, by Reaſon of our Luggage; for my Wife muſt needs take ſo many Trunks and Bandboxes, as is always the Way with Women: or elſe we might have gone there for 1s. 6d. leſs in an Omnibus. Did take our Places in the Friſt Claſs notwithftanding the Expenſe, preferring both the Seats and the Company; and alſo becauſe if any Necks or Limbs are broken I note it is generally in the Second and Third Claſſes so weſettled, and the Carriage-Doors ſlammed to, and the Bell rung, the Train with a Whiſtle off like a Shot, and in the Carriage with me and my Wife a mighty pretty Lady, a Frenchwoman, and I did begin to talk French with her, which my Wife do not well underſtand, and by and by did find the Air too much for her where me was ſitting, and would come and take her Seat between us; I know, on Purpoſe. So fell a reading the Times, till One got in at Hanwell who ſeemed to be a Phyſician, and mighty pretty Diſcourfe with him touching the Manner of treating Madmen and Lunatics, which is now by gentle Management, and is a great Improvement on the old Plan of Chains and the Whip. Alſo of the Foulneſs of London for Want of fit Drainage, and how it do breed Cholera and Typhus, as ſure as rotten Cheeſe do Mites, and of the horrid Folly of making a great Gutter of the River. So to Swindon Station, where the Train do ſtop ten Minutes for Refreshment, and there my Wife hungry, and I too with a good Appetite, notwithſtanding the Diſcourfe about London Filth. So we out, and to the Refreſhment-Room with a Crowd of Paſſangers, all puſhing, and joſtling, and trampling on each others' Toes, ſtriving which mould get ſerved firſt. With much Ado got a Baſin of Soup for my Wife, and for myſelf a Veal and Ham Pie, and to ſee me looking at my Watch and taking a Mouthful by Turns; and how I did gulp a Glaſs of Guinness his Stout! Before we had half finiſhed, the Guard rang the Bell, and my Wife with a Start, did ſpill her Soup over her Dreſs, and was obliged to leave Half of it; and to think how ridiculous I looked, ſcampering back to the Train with my Meat-Pie in my Mouth! To run hurry-ſkurry at the Sound of a Bell, do ſeem only fit for a Gang of Workmen; and the Buſtle of Railways do deſtroy all the Dignity of Travelling; but the World altogether is leſs grand, and do go faſter than formerly. Off again, and to the End of our Journey, troubled at the Soup on my Wife's Dreſs, but thankful I had got my Change, and not left it behind me at the Swindon Station.