Читать книгу Merrie England in the Olden Time - George Daniel - Страница 19

“Sweet is the breath of early morn

That o'er yon heath refreshing blows:

And sweet the blossom on the thorn,

The violet blue, the blushing rose.

When mounts the lark on rapid wing,

How sweet to sit and hear him sing!

No carols like the feathered choir,

Such happy, grateful thoughts inspire.

Here let the spirit, sore distress'd,

Its vanities and wishes close:

The weary world is not the rest

Where wounded hearts should seek repose.

But, hark! the lark his merry strain,

To heav'n high soaring, sings again.

Be hush'd, sweet songster! ev'ry voice

That warbles not like thee—Rejoice!”

“Short and sad! Eugenio. We must away from these bewitching solitudes, or thy note will belong more to the nightingale than to the lark! Let imagination carry thee back to the reign of Queen Anne, when the Spectator and Sir Roger de Coverley embarked at the Temple-Stairs on their voyage to Vauxhall. We pass over the good knight's religious horror at beholding what a few steeples rose on the west of Temple-Bar; and the waterman's wit, (a common thing in those days, * ) that made him almost wish himself a Middlesex magistrate!

* What a sledge-hammer reply was Doctor Johnson's to an

aquatic wag upon a similar occasion. “Fellow! your mother,

under the pretence (!!!) of keeping a—————— is a receiver of stolen goods!”

'We were now arrived at Spring Garden says the Spectator, 'which is exquisitely pleasant at this time of the year. When I considered the fragrancy of the walks and bowers, with the choir of birds that sang upon the trees, and the loose tribe of people that walked under their shades, I could not but look upon the place as a kind of Mahometan paradise. Sir Roger told me it put him in mind of a little coppice by his house in the country, which his chaplain used to call an aviary of nightingales.' “And mark in what primitive fashion they concluded their walk, with a glass of Burton ale and a slice of hung-beef!

“Bonnel Thornton furnishes a ludicrous account of a stingy old citizen, loosening his purse-strings to treat his wife and family to Vauxhall; and 'Colin's * 'Description to his wife of Greenwood Hall, or the pleasures of Spring Gardens,' gives a lively picture of what this modern Arcadia was a century ago.

1 May 20, 1712.

* 'Mary! soft in feature,

I've been at dear Vauxhall;

No paradise is sweeter,

Not that they Eden call.

At night such new vagaries,

Such gay and harmless sport;

All look'd like giant fairies,

At this their monarch's court.

Methought when first I enter'd,

Such splendours round me shone,

Into a world I ventured

Where rose another sun:

Whilst music, never cloying,

As skylarks sweet I hear;

The sounds I'm still enjoying,

They 'll always soothe my ear.

Here paintings, sweetly glowing,

Where'er our glances fall,

Here colours, life bestowing,

Bedeck this green-wood hall!

The king there dubs a farmer,

There John his doxy loves;*

But my delight's the charmer

Who steals a pair of gloves!

As still amazed, I'm straying

O'er this enchanted grove;

I spy a harper playing

All in his proud alcove.

I doff my hat, desiring

He'd tune up Buxom Joan;

But what was I admiring?

Odzooks! a man of stone.

But now the tables spreading,

They all fall to with glee;

Not e'en at Squire's fine wedding

Such dainties did I see!

I long'd (poor starveling rover!)

But none heed country elves;

These folk, with lace daub'd over,

Love only dear themselves.

Thus whilst, 'mid joys abounding,

As grasshoppers they're gay;

At distance crowds surrounding

The Lady of the May.

The man i' th' moon tweer'd slily,

Soft twinkling through the trees,

As though 'twould please him highly

To taste delights like these.” **

But its days are numbered. The axe shall be laid to the roots of its beautiful trees; its green avenues turned into blind alleys;

* Alluding to the three pictures in the Pavilions—viz. the

King and the Miller of Mansfield—Sailors in a tippling

house in Wapping—and the girl stealing a kiss from a

sleepy gentleman.

** The statue of Handel.

its variegated lamps give place to some solitary gas-burner, to light the groping inhabitants to their dingy homes; and the melodious strains of its once celebrated vocalists be drowned in the dismal ditty of some ballad-singing weaver, and the screeching responses of his itinerant family. What would the gallant Mr. Lowe and his sprightly Euphrosyne, Nan Catley, say, could they be told to what “base uses” their harmonious groves are condemned to be turned?

* Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales sitting under her

splendid Pavilion.

Truly their wonder would be on a par with Paganini's, should ever that musical magician encounter on the other side Styx “My Lord Skaggs and his Broomstick!” *

* This celebrated professor played on his musical broomstick

at the Haymarket Theatre, November 1751.

“Each buck and jolly fellow has heard of Skegginello

The famous Skegginello, that grunts so pretty

Upon his broomstieado, such music he has made, O,

'Twill spoil the fiddling trade, O,

And that's a pity!

But have you heard or seen, O, his phiz so pretty,

In picture shops so grin, O,

With comic nose and chin, O,

Who'd think a man could shine so At Eh, Eh, Eh, Eh?”

There is a curious Tobacco Paper of Skaggs playing on his

broomstick in full concert with a jovial party! One of the

principal performers is a good-humoured looking gentleman

beating harmony out of the salt-box.

** Certain utilitarians affect to ridicule this ancient

civic festival, on the score of its parade, right-royally

ridiculous! and gross gluttony—as if the corporation of

London were the only gourmands who had offered sacrifices to

Apicius, and died martyrs to good living! We have been at

some pains to peep into the dining-parlours of the ancients,

and from innumerable examples of gastronomy have selected

the following, which prove that the epicures of the olden

time yielded not in taste and voracity to their brethren of

the new:—

The emperor Septimus Severus died of eating and drinking too

much. Valentinianus went off in a surfeit. Lucullus being

asked one day by his attendant, what company he had invited

to his feast, seeing so many dainties prepared, answered,

“Lucullus shall dine with Lucullus?” Vitellius Spinter was

so much given to gluttony, that at one supper he was served

with two thousand several kinds of fishes, and with seven

thousand flying fowl. Maximilian devoured, in one day, forty

pounds of solid meat, which he washed down with a hogshead

of wine. The emperor Geta continued his festival for three

days, and his dainties were introduced in alphabetical

order. Philoxenes wished he had a neck like a crane, that

the delicious morsels might be long in going down. Lucullus,

at a costly feast he gave to certain ambassadors of Asia,

among other trifles, took to his own cheek a griph (query

Griffin'!) boiled, and a fat goose in paste. Hercules and

Lepreas had a friendly contest, which could, in quickest

time, eat up a whole ox; Hercules won, and then challenged

his adversary to a drinking bout, and again beat him hollow.

If the Stoic held that the goal of life is death, and that

we live but to learn to die—if the Pythagorean believed in

the transmigration of souls, and scrupled to shoot a

woodcock lest he should dispossess the spirit of his

grandam—how much more rational was the doctrine of the

Epicurean, (after such a goodly catalogue of gormandizers!)

that there was no judgement to come.

Who has not heard of Guildhall on Lord Mayor's Day, ** and the Easter Ball at the Mansion-House? But we profane not the penetralia where even Common-Councilmen fear to tread! The City Marshals, and men in armour (Héros malgré eux!); the pensive-looking state-coachmen, in all the plumpness, pomp, and verdure of prime feeding, wig, and bouquet; the postilion, “a noticeable man,” with velvet cap and jockey boots; the high-bred and high-fed aristocracy of the Poultry and Cheapside, and their Banquet, which might tempt Diogenes to blow himself up to such a pitch of obesity, that, instead of living in a tub, a tub might be said to live in him, are subjects too lofty for plebeian handling. Cæsar was told to beware of the Ides of March; and are not November fogs equally ominous to the London citizen? If, then, by some culinary magic, he can be induced to cram his throat rather than to cut it—to feast himself instead of the worms—to prefer a minuet in the Council Chamber to the Dance Macabre in the shades below—the gorgeous anniversaries of Gog and Magog have not been celebrated in vain. *

* “Search all chronicles, histories, and records, in what

language or letter soever—let the inquisitive man waste

the deere treasures of his time and eye-sight—he shall

conclude his life only in this certainty, that there is no

subject upon earth received into the place of his government

with the like state and magnificence as is the Lord Maior of

the Citty of London.” This was said by the author of the

“Triumphs of Truth” in 1613. The following list of City

Poets will show that the office was not an unimportant one

in the olden time: George Peele; Anthony Munday; Thomas

Dekker; Thomas Middleton; John Squire; John Webster; Thomas

Heywood; John Taylor (the Water-Poet, one of Ben Jonson's

adopted poetical sons, and a rare slang fellow); Edward G ay

ton, and T. B. (of the latter nothing is known), both

Commonwealth bards; John Tatham; Thomas Jordan; Matthew

Taubman, and Elkanah Settle, the last of the poetical

parsons who wedded Lord Mayors and Aldermen to immortal

verse. One of the most splendid of these anniversary

pageants was “London's Triumph; or, the Solemn and

Magnificent reception of that Honourable Gentleman, Robert

Titeliburn, Lord Maior, after his return from taking his

oath at Westminster, the morrow after Simon and Jude day,

being October 29, 1656. With the Speeches spoken at Foster-

lane-end and Soper-lane-end.”—“In the first place,” (says

the City Poet T. B.) “the loving members of the honourable

societie exercising arms in Cripplegate Ground being drawn

up together, march'd in a military order to the house of my

Lord Maior, where they attended on him, and from thence

march'd before him to the Three Crane Wharfe, where part of

them under the red colours embarqued themselves in three

severall barges; and another part took water at Stone

Staires, being under green colours, as enemies to the other;

and thence wafting to the other side of the water, there

began an encounter between each party, which continued all

the way to Westminster; a third body, consisting of pikes

and musquets, march'd to Bainard's Castle, and there from

the battlements of the castle gave thundering echoes to the

vollies of those that pass'd along the streame. Part before

and part behind went the severall barges, with drums

beating, and trumpets sounding, and varietie of other musiek

to take the eare, while the flags and silver pendents made a

pleasant sight delectable to the beholders.

“After these came severall gentlemen-ushers adorn'd with

gold eliaines; behind them certaine rich batelielours,

wearing gownes furr'd with foynes, and upon them sattin

hoods; and lastly after them, followed the Worshipfull

Company of Skinners itself, whereof the Lord Maior is a

member. Next these, the city officers passing on before,

rode the Lord Maior with the Sword, Mace, and Cap of

Maintenance before him, being attended by the Recorder, and

all the aldermen in scarlet gowns on horseback. (Aldermen on

horseback!!) Thus attended, he rode from Bainard's Castle

into

Cheapside, the Companies standing on both sides of the way

as far as the upper end of the Old Jury, ready to receive

him. When he was come right against the old Change, a

pageant seem'd to meet him. On the pageant stood two

leopards bestrid by two Moors, attir'd in the habit of their

country; at the foure corners sate foure virgins arraid in

cloth of silver, with their haire dishriveld, and coronets

on their heads. This seem'd to be the embleme of a city

pensive and forlorn, for want of a zealous governor: the

Moors and leopards, like evill customs tyrannizing over the

weak virginitie of undefended virtue; which made an aged

man, who sate at the fore part of the pageant, mantled in a

black garment, with a dejected countenance, seem to bewaile

the condition of his native city; but thus he remaind not

long: for at the approach of the Lord Maior, as if now he

had espy'd the safety of his country, he threw off his

mourning weeds, and with the following speech made known the

joy he had for the election of so happy and just a

magistrate.

“The speech being spoken, the first pageant past on before

the Lord Maior as far as Mercers' Chappel; a gyant being

twelve foot in height going before the pageant for the

delight of the people. Over against Soper-lane End stood

another pageant also; upon this were plac'd severall sorts

of beasts, as lyons, tygers, bears, leopards, foxes, apes,

monkeys, in a great wildernesse; at the forepart whereof

sate Pan with a pipe in his hand; in the middle was a

canopie, at the portal whereof sate Orpheus in an antique

attire, playing on his harp, while all the beasts seem'd to

dance at the sound of his melody. Under the canopie sate

four satyrs playing on pipes. The embleme of this pageant

seem'd proper to the Company out of which the Lord Maior was

elected; putting the spectators in mind how much they ought

to esteem such a calling, as clad the Judges in their

garments of honour, and Princes in their robes of majestic,

and makes the wealthy ladies covet winter, to appear clad in

their sable funs. A second signification of this emblem may

be this—that as Orpheus tam'd the wild beasts by the

alluring sound of his melody, so doth a just and upright

governor tame and govern the wild affections of men, by good

and wholesome lawes, causing a general joy and peace in the

place where he commands. Which made Orpheus, being well

experienced in this truth, to address himself to the Lord

Maior in these following lines.

“The speech being ended, the Lord Maior rode forward to his

house in Silver Street, the military bands still going

before him. When he was in this house, they saluted him with

two volleys of shot, and so marching again to their ground

in Cripple-gate Churchyard, they lodg'd their colours; and

as they began, so concluded this dayes triumph.”

When the barges wherein the soldiers were, came right

against Whitehall, they saluted the Lord Protector and his

Council with several rounds of musketry, which the Lord

Protector answered with “signal testimonies of grace and

cour-tesie.” And returning to Whitehall, after the Lord

Mayor had taken the oath of office before the Barons of the

Exchequer, they saluted the Lord Protector with “another

volley” The City of London had been actively instrumental in

the deposition and death of King Charles the First, and

Cromwell could not do less than acknowledge, with some show

of respect, the blank cartridges of his old friends. The

furr'd gowns and gold chains, however, made the amende

honorable, when they “jumped Jim Crow,” and helped to

restore King Charles the Second.

But Easter-Monday was not made only for the city's dancing dignitaries. It draws up the curtain of our popular merriments; and Whit-Mon-day, * not a whit less merry, trumpets forth their joyous continuation.

* June 9, 1786. On Whit-Tuesday was celebrated at Hendon in

Middlesex, a burlesque imitation of the Olympic Games.

One prize was a gold-laced hat, to be grinned for by six

candidates, who were placed on a platform, with horses'

collars to exhibit through. Over their heads was printed in

capitals,

Detur Tetriori; or

The ugliest grinner

Shall be the winner.

Each party grinned five minutes solus, and then all united

in a grand chorus of distortion. This prize was carried by a

porter to a vinegar merchant, though he was accused by his

competitors of foul play, for rinsing his mouth with

verjuice. The whole was concluded by a hog, with his tail

shaved and soaped, being let loose among nine peasants; any

one of which that could seize him by the queue, and throw

him across his shoulders, was to have him for a reward. This

occasioned much sport: the animal, after running some miles,

so tired his hunters that they gave up the chase in despair.

A prodigious concourse of people attended, among whom were

the Tripoline Ambassador, and several other persons of

distinction.

We hail the return of these festive seasons when the busy inhabitants of Lud's town and its suburbs, in spite of hard times, tithes, and taxes, repair to the royal park of Queen Bess to divert their melancholy! We delight to contemplate the mirthful mourners in their endless variety of character and costume; to behold the forlorn holiday-makers hurrying to the jocund scene, to participate in those pleasures which the genius of wakes, kindly bounteous, prepares for her votaries. *

* On the Easter-Monday of 1840, the Regent's Park, Primrose

Hill, and the adjoining fields, presented one merry mass of

animated beings. At Chalk Farm there was a regular fair—

with swings, roundabouts, ups-and-downs, gingerbread-stalls,

theatres, donkey-races, penny chaises, and puppet-shows,

representing the Islington murder, the Queen's marriage, the

arrival of Prince Albert, and the departure of the Chartist

rioters! Hampstead Heath, and the surrounding villages,

turned out their studs of Jerusalem ponies. Copenhagen

House, Hornsey Wood House and the White Conduit, echoed with

jollity; the holiday-makers amusing themselves with cricket,

fives, and archery. How sweetly has honest, merry Harry

Carey described the origin of “Sally in our Alley” which

touelied the heart of Addison with tender emotion, and

called forth his warmest praise. “A shoemaker's 'prentice,

making holiday with his sweetheart, treated her with a sight

of Bedlam, the puppet-shows, the flying-chairs, and all the

elegancies of Moorfields, from whence proceeding to the

Farthing Pye-house, he gave her a collation of buns,

cheese-cakes, gammon of bacon, stuffed beef, and bottled

ale; through all which scenes the author dodged them.

Charmed with the simplicity of their courtship, he drew from

what he had witnessed this little sketch of Nature.”

The gods assembled on Olympus presented not a more glorious sight than the laughing divinities of One-Tree-Hill!