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318
The Royal Mail: Its Curiosities and Romance
·
James Wilson Hyde
15
"To
Carlisle;
cut
up
by
innumerable
little
paltry
one-horse
carts."
One
more
instance
from
the
pen
of
Young
and
we
leave
him.
In
the
course
of
one
of
his
journeys,
he
makes
his
way
into
Wales,
where
he
finds
his
bete
noire
in
the
roads,
and
freely
expresses
himself
thereupon
in
his
usual
forcible
style:
"But,
my
dear
sir,
what
am
I
to
say
of
the
roads
in
this
country?
the
turnpikes,
as
they
have
the
assurance
to
call
them,
and
the
hardiness
to
make
one
pay
for?
From
Chepstow
to
the
half-way
house
between
Newport
and
Cardiff
they
continue
mere
rocky
lanes,
full
of
hugeous
stones
as
big
as
one's
horse,
and
abominable
holes.
The
first
six
miles
from
Newport
they
were
so
detestable,
and
without
either
direction-posts
or
milestones,
that
I
could
not
well
persuade
myself
I
was
on
the
turnpike,
but
had
mistook
the
road,
and
therefore
asked
every
one
I
met,
who
answered
me,
to
my
astonishment,
'Ya-as.'
Whatever
business
carries
you
into
this
country,
avoid
it,
at
least
till
they
have
good
roads;
if
they
were
good,
travelling
would
be
very
pleasant."
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