All western coaches had been quickened lately by tidings of steam in the North, which would take a man nearly a score of miles in one hour; and though nobody really believed in this, the mere talk of it made the horses go. There was one coach already, known by the rather profane name of Quicksilver, which was said to travel at the almost impious pace of twelve miles an hour.
R. D. Blackmore - Perlycross: A Tale of the Western Hills (1894)
The novel was published in 1894 but set in 1835 to 1836 when Blackmore would have been ten or eleven years old living in the rural Doone country of Exmoor. Imagine his excitement as a boy in an age of horses, carriages and carts when he first heard tales of a magical machine from the North which could carry passengers almost twenty mile in one hour.
Come to think of it, I only averaged about 18 miles per hour for my daily Nottingham commute. Progress I suppose.
2 comments:
Market Towns are roughly 12 miles apart - meaning that people only had to walk or ride 6 miles maximum to get to them. And 6 miles back again. A different pace of life altogether.
DJ - surely that's 12 miles there and 12 back.
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