Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
said the Squire,--“Come then, if you wish to be well-mounted, and would
really look like a “baron bold,” seat yourself fearlessly on either,
and bear yourself through the streets of London with the dignity ~196~~
befitting a true, magnanimous and puissant knight of Munster!”--This
address had the desired effect,--it implied a doubt of the Baronet's
courage, and he seated himself on the “gallant steed” immediately.--Tom
and Bob at same time betook themselves, the former to the other “high
mettled racer,” and the latter to the unassuming rejected Rosinante
of Sir Felix. A trifling delay, however, occurred; the stirrups of
the Baronet's charger were too short, and he alighted while the groom
repaired the defect.
Now see him mounted once again
Upon his nimble steed;
Full slowly pacing o'er the stones,
With caution and good heed.
Whether, like the Calenderer's horse under the its guidance of the
celebrated John Gilpin, the disdainful steed now in the management of
Sir Felix, “wondered what thing he'd got upon his back,” we are not
competent to decide; but he certainly in his progress “o'er the
stones” manifested frequent impatience of restraint. These symptoms
of contumaciousness were nevertheless borne by the Baronet without
complaint,--
Till finding soon a smoother road
Beneath its well-shod feet,
The snorting beast began to trot,
Which galled him in his seat.
And, as if intuitively knowing the incapacity of his rider to restrain
him, and despising curb and rein, the indignant animal set off at full
speed, to the great dismay of Dashall and the Squire, who putting their
horses to the pith of their mettle, hurried after their friend with the
utmost solicitude. Luckily, however, the career of the spirited animal
was impeded, and finally stopped, by the frequent interposition of the
passengers on the road, and the Baronet was safely set down, ready to
exclaim with Hawser Trunnion, “If ever I get astride the back of
such another harum scarum son of a bitch again, my name is not Felix
O'Grady.”
The pursuers speedily rejoined the pursued, and felt happy in the
knowledge of his welfare. The abashment of the baronet, occasioned
by this untoward adventure, soon gave way to his characteristic
good-humour; and ~197~~ having resigned all further government of
the Squire's unruly quadruped, and resumed possession of his own, the
triumvirate proceeded towards the place of destination.
In the meanwhile, the city horsemen arose with Phoebus, to mount their
rosinantes, to be present at the enlargement of the stag, and were
roused from their slumbers according to order by the watchmen. The
motley group, that was early in the field, furnished a capital subject
for the caricaturist. Carts, horses, lame mares, and refractory donkies,
with their grotesque riders, covered the field, together with dandies in
chaises, and the lassies from St. Giles's, Chick-lane, Wapping, and
St. Catherine's, in market carts, with their sweet-hearts, considerably
swelled the number of the hunters. The stag was decorated with bunches
of ribbons, and seemed when enlarged much more frightened at the
appearance of the Londoners, than at the hounds, his natural enemies.
When the chase commenced, never was witnessed such a scene of confusion
and disorder. Upset carts, and unhorsed huntsmen, were seen in all
directions. The stag went off in good style, and out of hundreds of
horsemen, not above a dozen were able to keep their seats, but a number
of fellows were on the lurk to take care of the stray horses.
After a cursory glance at the variegated and boisterous assemblage,
the stag bounded forward with the velocity of lightning, amidst the
astounding shouts of the multitude, and was instantly followed by his
biped and quadruped foes of indescribable diversity, from the amateur
of the turf on his spirited and well caparisoned steed, to the spavined
gelding, bearing its cockney rider, and numerous other _annual_
equestrians, preceded by every description of the canine race, from
the high bred beagle to the “cur of low degree.” All was tumultuous
dissonance, and confusion worse confounded. Tallyho enjoyed the scene
to the very acme of delight, and giving the reins to his experienced
courser, high in blood, and eager for accustomed exercise, the noble
animal accompanied by its companion under the guidance of Dashall,
started off with unrivalled celerity, and in a few moments set all
competition at defiance. Sir Felix, in an attempt to follow his friends,
leaped a fence, but gaining the opposite side, horse and rider came
to the ground: fortunately neither of them sustained any injury.--Sir
Felix, ~198~~ however, on regaining his footing, found that his horse,
which had gone forward, was in possession of a stranger, who losing
his own, had availed himself of this opportunity of remounting, and now
pursued his way bare-headed; for the wind had uncourteously uncovered
his pericranium, and he abandoned his castor to its fate rather than
by stopping to pick it up, risque the restitution of his prize, and
the wrath of the baronet, who stood spell-bound against the fence,
vociferously demanding his gelding, and extending his arm in reiterated
denunciation of vengeance. The unceremonious intruder turning round on
the saddle, without slackening his career.--” Bide you where you are,
my fine fellow,” he provokingly exclaimed, “until the chase is over, and
your gelding shall then be forthcoming.” If the sense of misfortune is
alleviated by seeing it participated by others, the baronet had ample
fund of consolation, for numbers around him were involved in similar
calamity. He profited too, by an admirable lesson of patience under
disaster. On the right of his runaway gelding, and its rider, he
perceived a dismounted horseman, quietly submitting to adversity, by
seating himself on a bank, while his unburthened steed pursued the chase
with unabating celerity, leaving its owner to wait, at leisure, its
return. Two cockney equestrians now approached, at full speed, the
fence where Sir Felix still stood, in the attitude of remonstrance and
irritation; and attempting the leap, one, like the baronet, gained the
opposite side, but with a less successful result; for the rider was
pitched over with some violence, with his heels aloft in the air, as if
about to perambulate the field on his hands, while his horse came to the
ground on its face and knees, suspended by its hind legs from the upper
bar of the fence, and vainly essaying at extrication. The other cockney
sportsman was similarly situated: his horse had not cleared the fence,
neither had the rider, although he had reached the neck of his rosinante
in his progress to the opposite side; in this position he assumed a
permanent aspect, for his horse rested with his fore-legs over the
fence, and seemed incapable of either retrograding or proceeding. These
lessons taught the baronet resignation in mishap; the result of which
was the return, in about an hour, of his friends Tom and Bob, to his
great comfort, which was further increased by their bringing with them
his gelding, having recognized the animal ~199~~ in the possession of a
stranger, who, on their claiming it as belonging to Sir Felix O'Grady,
very readily gave it up, saying, that the baronet had not forgot in the
midst of his threats, frequently to announce his name, and hoping that
he would excuse him for having resorted to the privilege which every
person claims on this day, of taking care of the stray horses. The party
now fully satisfied with the humours and disasters of the Easter Hunt,
turned their steeds homewards, and journeying unimpeded, notwithstanding
the throng of the road, they quickly gained town, without the occurrence
of any other memorable incident.
Having reached the mansion of Dashall, Sir Felix acquainted Tallyho with
the success of his mission respecting the hand, as a partner, at the
Mansion-house Ball, of the august descendant of the Kings of Ulster,
the sage and venerable Miss Judith Macgilligan. “O, the beautiful
_illustrissimo_! the sweet crature” exclaimed the baronet, “with
commendable care of her virgin purity, and fair unsullied fame, is
tenacious of etiquette, and insists that she shall be asked with all due
form and respect, (after I have introduced your Squireship to the honour
of her notice) at the Mansion-house. By my conscience, I believe she is
in love with your character, and no doubt will prove desperately so with
your person. Faith and troth now, she is both too young and too old for
matrimony; too young, because she may live to torment you these twenty
years to come, which is a penance no sprightly lad should voluntarily
undergo for all her fortune; and too old, being in all respects
disqualified by age, for the important object of marriage, which was
instituted for the procreation of children.”
“My dear sir,” rejoined the Squire, “immaculate may the lady remain in
her person and property, I have no views on either.”
“By the powers of charity retract that 'stern decree,'” exclaimed the
baronet, “would you break the heart of the love-sick nymph, by chilling
indifference to the potency of her charms and the magnitude of her
fortune? However, all joking apart, my good friends, will you do my aunt
and your humble servant the honour of calling at our lodgings; we shall
wait your coming and proceed together to the civic entertainment?” This
was agreed to;--the baronet retired, and the two cousins having the best
part of the day still before them, set out on a stroll to Tothill-fields
Fair, with the view of ascertaining Real Life in Westminster, amongst
the middle and lower orders of its extensive population.
~200~~ Crossing St. James's Park, our two observers soon reached the
scene of jollity. Here, as in all the fairs held in London, and its
vicinity, was a vast assemblage of idlers, including both sexes and all
ages. “They talk of the severity of the times,” said Dashall, “and the
distress of the lower orders of society; I cannot say, however, that I
have witnessed any semblance of distress or privation amongst such in
this metropolis to the extent represented,1 in the whole course of my
observation. These fairs, for instance, more properly marts of iniquity,
are crammed to excess; and in pursuit of low enjoyment there appears no
deficiency of pecuniary means. In all these resorts of dissipation,
not only the shows are filled with spectators, but the booths and
neighbouring public-houses are crowded with male and female revellers.”
The Squire acquiesced in the correctness of his friend's remark, and
both coincided in opinion that the regular daily public places of
amusement in the metropolis afford ample opportunity for rational
recreation, independent of the continuance of fairs, which have no other
tendency than facilitating the progress of licentiousness.
Dashall observed, that on the present occasion, in the midst of so much
alleged distress,-the booths and shows of Tothill-fields Fair were
much more extensive than in former years. “We must, however,” said he,
“although the evil continues, do the Magistrates the justice to say
that they have acted meritoriously in preventing the erection of those
dangerous machines named round-abouts, by which, at former fairs, many
serious accidents were occasioned.”
While Ton and Bob were quizzing the costermongers and the Venuses,
they in their turn were queered out of their wipes; thus another
cogent argument was afforded as to the necessity of suppressing these
nuisances, as being the rendezvous of infamy, and the harvest of
depredation. The visitors appeared in all their glory, as elegant