CHAPTER X.

Oxford, June 25.

To what various, singular, and unaccountable fatalities and adventures are not foot-travellers exposed, in this land of carriages and horses!  But, I will begin my relation in form and order.

In Windsor, I was obliged to pay for an old fowl I had for supper, for a bedroom which I procured with some difficulty, and not without murmurs, and in which, to complete my misadventures, I was disturbed by a drunken fellow; and for a couple of dishes of tea, nine shillings, of which the fowl alone was charged six shillings.

As I was going away the waiter, who had served me with so very ill a grace, placed himself on the stairs and said, “Pray remember the waiter.”  I gave him three halfpence, on which he saluted me with the heartiest “G-d d-n you, sir!” I had ever heard.  At the door stood the cross maid, who also accosted me with, “Pray remember the chambermaid.”  “Yes, yes,” said I, “I shall long remember your most ill-mannered behaviour and shameful incivility;” and so I gave her nothing.  I hope she was stung and nettled at my reproof; however, she strove to stifle her anger by a contemptuous, loud, hoarse laugh.  Thus, as I left Windsor, I was literally followed by abuses and curses.

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.