322 COACHING DAYS AND COACHING WAYS 



sealed with blood or not sealed, as the case may be, 

 Turpin rode down to the Ferry at Cawood — 189J miles 

 from London. Nine miles only separated him from his 

 goal. But the ferryman accidentally happened to be on 

 the other side of the river, and at the same moment a 

 loud shout smote his ear — (Turpin's ear, not the ferry- 

 man's). This shout was the halloo of the pursuers. 

 The only thing to be done now was to ford the river, 

 and this Dick Turpin did. Once on the other side, he 

 had a fresh start — in other words, " Once more on wings 

 of swiftness" Black Bess bore him away from his 

 pursuers. But Major Mowbray, who was one of them, 

 saw that all this parade of victory was only an expiring 

 flash. " She must soon drop," he observed. Bess how- 

 ever held on past Fulford — " till the towers of York 

 (199 J miles from London) burst upon him in all the 

 freshness, the beauty and the glory of a bright clear 

 autumnal morn. The noble minster, and its serene and 

 massive pinnacles, crocketed, lantern-like, and beautiful ; 

 Saint Mary's lofty spire ; All Hallows' tower, and archi- 

 tectural York generally, to make a long list short, 

 beamed upon him ; shortly after which another mile was 

 passed ; shortly after which Dick shouted " hurrah ! ' 

 shortly after which Black Bess " tottered — fell. There 

 was a dreadful gasp — a parting moan — a snort ; her eye 

 gazed for an instant on her master with a dying glare ; 

 then grew palsied, rayless, fixed. A shiver also ran 

 through her frame." And there was an end of the 

 celebrated ride to York. And I hope that those who 

 can believe in it will. 



And now I come to a less legendary side of my 

 subject. Turpin has taken us to York : and faster than 

 we could have gone there in the Coaching Age — faster 

 a good deal — but he has not stopped for us at any of 

 the inns, and to one or two of these inns on the great 

 North Road I wish particularly to introduce my readers. 

 For they are hostelries in the true sense of the word, 

 and call up even now I know not what coloured 



