"From Richmond to Darlington, part of the great north road; execrably broke into holes like an old pavement, sufficient to dislocate one's bones."
"To Morpeth; a pavement a mile or two out of Newcastle; all the rest _vile_.
"To Carlisle; cut up by innumerable little paltry one-horse carts."
One more instance from the pen of Young and we leave him. In the course of one of his journeys, he makes his way into Wales, where he finds his _bête noire_ in the roads, and freely expresses himself thereupon in his usual forcible style: "But, my dear sir, what am I to say of the roads in this country? the turnpikes, as they have the assurance to call them, and the hardiness to make one pay for? From Chepstow to the half-way house between Newport and Cardiff they continue mere rocky lanes, full of hugeous stones as big as one's horse, and abominable holes. The first six miles from Newport they were so detestable, and without either direction-posts or milestones, that I could not well persuade myself I was on the turnpike, but had mistook the road, and therefore asked every one I met, who answered me, to my astonishment, 'Ya-as.' Whatever business carries you into this country, avoid it, at least till they have good roads; if they were good, travelling would be very pleasant."
The necessity for a better class of road cannot but have forced itself upon the Government of the country from time to time, if not for the benefit of travellers and to encourage trade, at any rate to secure a rapid movement of troops in times of disturbance or rebellion; yet we find the state of streets in the metropolis, and roads in the country, as in 1750, thus described in Blackie's 'Comprehensive History of England': "When the only public approaches to Parliament were King Street and Union Street, these were so wretchedly paved, that when the King went in state to the House, the ruts had to be filled up with bundles of fagots to allow the royal coach a safe transit. While the art of street-paving was thus so imperfect, that of road-making was equally defective, so that the country visitor to the metropolis, and its dangers of coach-driving, had generally a sufficient preparative for the worst during his journey to town. This may easily be understood from the fact that, so late as 1754, few turnpikes were to be seen after leaving the vicinity of London, for 200 miles together, although it had been made felony to pull them down. These roads, indeed, were merely the produce of compulsory pauper labour, contributed by the different parishes; and, like all such work, it was performed in a very perfunctory manner."