“Tho’, up him taking in their tender hands They easily unto her charett beare; Her teme at her commandement quiet stands, Whiles they the corse unto her wagon reare. And strowe with flowers the lamentable beare; Then all the rest into their Coches climb.” “For their pomp and ease being borne In triumph on men’s shoulders.” “With chest begirt by leathern bands, The chairman at his corner stands; The poles stuck up against the wall Are ready at a moment’s call. For customers they’re always willing And ready aye to earn a shilling.” Echoes of the Street. “And jealous Juno, ever snarling, Is drawn by peacocks in her berlin.” “It should be noted,” says Croal, “that we find the word differently applied in the earlier years of the century, and in such a way as to cast doubts on the derivations quoted. In some of the last Acts passed by the Scottish Parliaments before the Union, there are references to a kind of ship or boat, called a berline. The royal burghs on the west coast of Scotland were in 1705 ordered to maintain two ‘berlines’ to prevent the importation of ‘victual’ from Ireland, this importation being forbidden at the time, and two years later an Act was passed to pay the expenses of the berlines.” “The appointments of an English coach are no less elegant than its form. A portly, good-looking coachman seated on a very high coach-box, well dressed, wearing white gloves, a nosegay in his button-hole, and his chin enveloped in an enormous cravat, drives four horses perfectly matched and harnessed, and as carefully groomed as when they excited admiration in the carriages of Grosvenor and Berkeley Squares. Such is the manner in which English horses are managed, such also is their docility, the effect either of temperament or training, that you do not remark the least restiveness in them. Four-horse coaches are to be seen rapidly traversing the most populous streets of London, without occasioning the least accident, without being at all inconvenienced in the midst of the numerous carriages which hardly leave the necessary space to pass. The swearing of ostlers is never heard at the relays any more than the neighing of horses; nor are you interrupted on the road by the voice of the coachman or the sound of his whip, which differs only from a cabriolet whip in the length of the thong, and serves more as a sort of appendage than a means of correction in the hand which carries it.” |