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By the time they had turned into the Bethnal Green Road,the day had fairly begun to break.Many of the
coach bags were already extinguished;a few country waggons were slowly toiling on,towards London;now and then,a stage-coach,covered with mud,rattled briskly by: the driver bestowing,as he passed,and admonitory lash upon the heavy waggoner who,by keeping on the wrong side of the road,had endangered his arriving at the office,a quarter of a minute after his time.The public-houses,with gas-lights burning inside,were already open.By degrees,other shops began to be unclosed,and a few scattered people were met with.Then,came straggling groups of labourers going to their work;then,men and women with fish-baskets on their heads;donkey-carts laden with vegetables;chaise-carts filled with live-stock or whole carcasses of meat;milk-women with pails;an unbroken concourse of people,trudging out with coach outlet supplies to the eastern suburbs of the town.As they approached the City,the noise and traffic gradually increased;when they threaded the streets between Shoreditch and Smithfield,it had swelled into a roar of sound and bustle.It was as light as it was likely to be,till night came on again,and the busy morning of half the London population had begun.
It was a cheerless morning when they got into the street;blowing and raining hard;and the clouds looking dull and stormy.The night had been very wet: large pools of water had collected in the road: and the kennels were overflowing.There was a faint glimmering of the coming day in the sky;but it rather aggravated than relieved the gloom of the scene: the sombre light only serving to pale that which the street lamps afforded,without shedding any warmer or brighter tints upon the wet house-tops,and dreary streets.There appeared to be nobody stirring in that quarter of the town;the windows of the coach handbags were all closely shut;and the streets through which they passed,were noiseless and empty.
It was market-morning.The ground was covered,nearly ankle-deep,with filth and mire;a thick steam,perpetually rising from the reeking bodies of the cheap coach bags,and mingling with the fog,which seemed to rest upon the chimney-tops,hung heavily above.All the pens in the centre of the large area,and as many temporary pens as could be crowded into the vacant space,were filled with sheep;tied up to posts by the gutter side were long lines of beasts and oxen,three or four deep.Countrymen,butchers,drovers,hawkers,boys,thieves,idlers,and vagabonds of every low grade,were mingled together in a mass;the whistling of drovers,the barking dogs,the bellowing and plunging of the oxen,the bleating of sheep,the grunting and squeaking of pigs,the cries of hawkers,the shouts,oaths,and quarrelling on all sides;the ringing of bells and roar of voices,that issued from every public-house;the crowding,pushing,driving,beating,whooping and yelling;the hideous and discordant dim that resounded from every corner of the market;and the unwashed,unshaven,squalid,and dirty figures constantly running to and fro,and bursting in and out of the throng;rendered it a stunning and bewildering scene,which quite confounded the
coach bags.This article was written by lianzongjian on 2010-2-25 from us-trade company.