“Where are Lloyd and George?” asked Lord Kenyon, wishing that my father might see them.
“They are in the garden,” was the answer.
“Master Thomas _is in the stable_, my Lord,” was the reply given by the footman.
He was, in fact, taking an active part in caring for the horses, just as, in later years, he “delighted in seeing twelve or fourteen horses bedded down, all for his own driving on the Shrewsbury road.”
“The most popular man in the county,” as he was presently to be known, married in 1803, and settled at Pradoe. He became active in the volunteer movement consequent upon the threatened invasion of England by Napoleon, and was Chairman of Shropshire Sessions and High Steward of Oswestry. That he never chose to compete for Parliamentary honours was due to his love of a country life in general and of the road in particular. He set up his own four-in-hand and drove it himself, on an average, three times a week, the thirteen miles from Pradoe to Shrewsbury; at other times the five miles to Oswestry, or, on occasional longer trips, to Llangollen or Bangor. Long before Telford had taken in hand the first portion of his work on the Holyhead Road, “His Honour” and his neighbour, Sir Henry Peyton, had done something to improve the part that ran close by. It was in those days heavy with sand, and “as bad a road as ever coach travelled on.” Grips and watercourses ran athwart, and rendered it specially dangerous at night. He had these defects covered over, and the sandy parts laid with hard material.
[Illustration: THE HONOURABLE THOMAS KENYON. _From an Old Print._]
A rigid punctuality was the chief feature of “His Honour’s” drives. He is described as having been a stylish whip, though by no means a fast driver, and never tempted to any racing rivalry. He was a species of Providence to the country-folk who had business calling them into Shrewsbury, and would always give a lift to any decent wayfarer. Only one condition he insisted upon: that no walking-sticks were allowed. Any one desiring a ride must choose between throwing his stick away and walking. Ducks and geese and market-baskets were permissible, and many an old market-woman rode to or from Shrewsbury on his coach; but sticks never had a place there. The reason of this objection to them does not appear. His punctuality was as invariable as that of the “Wonder” itself; and we have already heard how the country-folk took out their watches as that smart turn-out passed—not to see by how much the coach was overdue, but to set their watches by it. The country people whom he had brought into Shrewsbury learned, by many doleful experiences, to value punctuality as greatly as he; for if, when ready to return, they came to the “Lion” yard a minute too late, they would find the inexorable squire and his coach gone, and have to resign themselves to walking home.