THE BATH ROAD 33 



whom books and ballads are written ; and there is an old 

 picture of him in the room." 



At Woolhampton, a little over ten miles from Reading 

 still stands all that is left of the Angel, a celebrated old 

 posting inn, with a most curious sign, and three miles five 

 furlongs further on is Thatcham. Here the passengers 

 by the " New Company's elegant light four inside 

 post coaches," which in the palmy days of coaching 

 did the hundred and five miles from Bath to London in 

 twelve hours and a half, used to dine at the King's Head. 

 Here prodigies in the way of taking in provisions were 

 performed in half an hour. The attack on the table 

 must have been tremendous, and the tables were well 

 fortified for the attack. These were the days, be it 

 remembered, when English cookery was English cookery, 

 unpolluted as yet with 



"Art, with poisonous honey stolen from France." 



The distinguished author of Tancred and the Treaty 

 of Berlin has described the half hour for dinner at such 

 an inn as the King's Head with much spirit. 



"' The coach stops here half an hour, gentlemen : dinner 

 quite ready.' 



"'Tis a delightful sound. And what a dinner ! What 

 a profusion of substantial delicacies ! What mighty and 

 iris-tinted rounds of beef! What vast and marble- 

 veined ribs ! What gelatinous veal pies ! What colossal 

 hams ! Those are evidently prize cheeses ! And how 

 invigorating is the perfume of those various and 

 variegated pickles ! Then the bustle emulating the 

 plenty ; the ringing of bells, the clash of thoroughfare, 

 the summoning of ubiquitous waiters, and the all-pervad- 

 ing feeling of omnipotence from the guests, who order 

 what they please to the landlord, who can produce and 

 execute everything they can desire. 'Tis a wondrous 

 sight ! " 



Three miles further on and we are at Newbury, or 



D 



