I Am Very Sorry To Say That I Rejoiced When I Once More Perceived
The Towers Of Windsor Behind Me.
It is not proper for wanderers to
be prowling near the palaces of kings, and so I sat me down,
philosophically, in the shade of a green hedge, and again read
Milton, no friend of kings, though the first of poets.
Whatever I
may think of their inns, it is impossible not to admire and be
charmed with this country.
I took my way through Slough, by Salthill, to Maidenhead. At
Salthill, which can hardly be called even a village, I saw a
barber's shop, and so I resolved to get myself both shaved and
dressed. For putting my hair a little in order, and shaving me, I
was forced to pay him a shilling. Opposite to this shop there
stands an elegant house and a neat garden.
Between Salthill and Maidenhead, I met with the first very
remarkable and alarming adventure that has occurred during my
pilgrimage.
Hitherto I had scarcely met a single foot passenger, whilst coaches
without number every moment rolled past me, for there are few roads,
even in England, more crowded than this western road, which leads to
Bath and Bristol as well as to Oxford. I now also began to meet
numbers of people on horseback, which is by no means an usual method
of travelling.
The road now led me along a low sunken piece of ground between high
trees, so that I could not see far before me, when a fellow in a
brown frock and round hat, with a stick in his hand a great deal
stronger than mine, came up to me. His countenance immediately
struck me as having in it something suspicious. He however passed
me; but, before I was aware, he turned back and asked me for a
halfpenny to buy, as he said, some bread, as he had eaten nothing
that day. I felt in my pocket, and found that I had no halfpence:
no, nor even a sixpence; in short, nothing but shillings. I told
him the circumstance, which I hoped would excuse me; on which he
said, with an air and manner the drift of which I could not
understand, "God bless my soul!" This drew my attention still
closer to the huge brawny fist, which grasped his stick, and that
closer attention determined me immediately to put my hand in my
pocket and give him a shilling. Meanwhile a coach came up. The
fellow thanked me and went on. Had the coach come a moment sooner,
I should not easily have given him the shilling, which, God knows, I
could not well spare. Whether this was a footpad or not, I will not
pretend to say, but he had every appearance of it.
I now came to Maidenhead bridge, which is five-and-twenty English
miles from London.
The English milestones give me much pleasure, and they certainly are
a great convenience to travellers.
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