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The Creevey Papers
Thomas Creevey to Elizabeth Ord, 2 November 1834

Vol. I. Contents
Ch. I: 1793-1804
Ch. II: 1805
Ch. III: 1805
Ch. IV: 1806-08
Ch. V: 1809
Ch. VI: 1810
Ch. VII: 1811
Ch. VIII: 1812
Ch. IX: 1813-14
Ch X: 1814-15
Ch XI: 1815-16
Ch XII: 1817-18
Ch XIII: 1819-20
Vol. II. Contents
Ch I: 1821
Ch. II: 1822
Ch. III: 1823-24
Ch. IV: 1825-26
Ch. V: 1827
Ch. VI: 1827-28
Ch. VII: 1828
Ch. VIII: 1829
Ch. IX: 1830-31
Ch. X: 1832-33
Ch. XI: 1833
Ch. XII: 1834
Ch XIII: 1835-36
Ch XIV: 1837-38
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“York, Nov. 2, 1834.

“Oh! Barry, my dear,† your mail is the genuine mode of travelling for us single people, provided it is not that stupid heavy Gloucester one. We were the last mail out of Post Office Yard last night—½ past 8, and such a load of letters, too, and bags as I never beheld—nevertheless I was here, 198 miles, by a quarter before five this evening, was dressed by six, and have just finished my excellent boiled fowl and bacon.‡ . . . I am so enamoured of mail travelling that

* The Earl of Durham.

Mr. Creevey usually addressed Miss Ord as Bessy, but sometimes as Barry.

Nimrod writes of this Edinburgh mail as the ne plus ultra of road work at any time. “It runs the distance, 400 miles, in a little over 40 hours, and we may set our watches by it any point of her journey. Stoppages included, this approaches eleven miles in the hour, and much the greater part of it by lamplight.” The time of the Flying Scotsman on the Great Northern Railway for this journey is now 8 hours and 25 minutes; and she keeps it.

I mean to stay here to-morrow, to play with the Minister, to have an early dinner and be off with the Edinbro mail of to-morrow about five, and so get to Alnwick about six on Tuesday morning. . . . I have been thinking much of the belligerents
Lambton and Brougham on my way down, and I think the former has completely cut his own throat by his speech at the Glasgow dinner, and has given Beelzebub a horse to ride which, with his jockeyship, will carry him thro’. It is not a year since this hair-brained Lambton claimed for himself at his Gateshead dinner the exclusive merit of originating the general Reform Bill; and now, forsooth, he pledges himself to his new allies, the Glasgow operatives, and to all other operatives, that he will have nothing short of household suffrage, &c., &c., which is, of course, a repeal of the present Reform Act, of which six months ago he was so proud. Beelzebub may say now, when he is accused of his gratuitous declaration against going on too quickly with Reform:—‘Why, I knew at the time more than you all put together. I knew that a daring measure was concocting to destroy all our labours, and put the people en masse against the property of the country, and I knew that Lord Durham was to lead this crew. With this conviction on my mind, could I do less than put the country on its guard against the new-fangled reform?’ . . . Durham’s is a truly daring measure, and he has nothing left but to pit the strength of the Radicals—himself at their head—against the property and good sense of the country; and I presume (for there is no telling till one sees) that he will be beat dead hollow.”