Onward
they came at a long swinging trot, arguing unwearied speed in their
long-breathed calling. Such running footmen are often alluded to in old
plays (I would particularly instance Middleton's Mad World, my Masters),
and perhaps may be still remembered by some old persons in Scotland,
as part of the retinue of the ancient nobility when travelling in full
ceremony. Behind these glancing meteors, who footed it as if the Avenger
of Blood had been behind them, came a cloud of dust, raised by riders
who preceded, attended, or followed the state-carriage of the Marquis.
The privilege of nobility, in those days, had something in it impressive
on the imagination. The dresses and liveries and number of their
attendants, their style of travelling, the imposing, and almost warlike,
air of the armed men who surrounded them, place them far above the
laird, who travelled with his brace of footmen; and as to rivalry from
the mercantile part of the community, these would as soon have thought
of imitating the state equipage of the Sovereign. At present it
is different; and I myself, Peter Pattieson, in a late journey to
Edinburgh, had the honour, in the mail-coach phrase to "change a leg"
with a peer of the realm.
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