We’re independent men, with wives, and sweethearts, by our side,
We’ve hearts at rest, with health we’re bless’d, and, being Easter
tide,
We make our _spring-time_ holiday, and take a bit of pleasure,
And gay as May, drive care away, and give to mirth our leisure.
It’s for our good, that thus, my boys, we pass the hours that stray,
We’ll have our frisk, without the risk of squabble or a fray;
Let each enjoy his pastime so, that, without fear or sorrow,
When all his fun is cut and run, he may enjoy to-morrow.
To-morrow may we happier be for happiness to-day,
That child or man, no mortal can, or shall, have it to say,
That we have lost both cash and time, and been of sense bereft,
For what we’ve spent we don’t relent, we’ve time and money left.
And we will husband both, my boys, and husband too our wives;
May sweethearts bold, before they’re old, be happy for their lives;
For good girls make good wives, my boys, and good wives make men
better,
When men are just, and scorning trust, each man is no man’s debtor.
Then at this welcome season, boys, let’s welcome thus each other,
Each kind to each, shake hands with each, each be to each a brother;
Next Easter holiday may each again see flowers springing,
And hear birds sing, and sing himself, while merry bells are
ringing.
*
The clear open weather during the Easter holidays in 1825, drew forth a
greater number of London holiday keepers than the same season of many
preceding years. They were enabled to indulge by the full employment in
most branches of trade and manufacture; and if the period was spent not
less merrily, it was enjoyed more rationally and with less excess than
before was customary. Greenwich, though crowded, was not so abundant of
boisterous rudeness. “It is almost the only one of the popular
amusements that remains: Stepney, Hampstead, Westend, and Peckham fairs
have been crushed by the police, that ‘stern, rugged nurse’ of national
morality; and although Greenwich fair continues, it is any thing but
what it used to be. Greenwich, however, will always have a charm: the
fine park remains--trees, glades, turf, and the view from the
observatory, one of the noblest in the world--before you the towers of
these palaces built for a monarch’s residence, now ennobled into a
refuge from life’s storms for the gallant defenders of their country,
after their long and toilsome pilgrimage--then the noble river; and in
the distance, amidst the din and smoke, appears the ‘mighty heart’ of
this mighty empire; these are views worth purchasing at the expense of
being obliged to visit Greenwich fair in this day of its decline.
‘Punch’ and his ‘better half’ seemed to be the presiding deities in the
fair, so little of merriment was there to be found. In the park,
however, the scene was different; it was nearly filled with persons of
all ages: the young came there for amusement, to see and be seen--the
old to pay their customary annual visit. On the hills was the usual
array of telescopes; there were also many races, and many sovereigns in
the course of the day changed hands on the event of them; but one race
in particular deserves remark, not that there was any thing in the
character, appearance, or speed of the competitors, to distinguish them
from the herd of others; the circumstances in it that afforded amusement
was the dishonesty of the stakeholder, who, as the parties had just
reached the goal, scampered off with the stakes, amidst the shouts of
the by-standers, and the ill-concealed chagrin of the two gentlemen who
had foolishly committed their money to the hands of a stranger.”[77]
According to annual custom on Easter Monday, the minor theatres opened
on that day for the season, and were thronged, as usual, by spectators
of novelties, which the Amphitheatre, the Surrey theatre,
Sadler’s-wells, and other places of dramatic entertainment, constantly
get up for the holiday-folks. The scene of attraction was much extended,
by amusements long before announced at distant suburbs. At half-past
five on Monday afternoon, Mr. Green accompanied by one of his brothers,
ascended in a balloon from the Eagle Tavern, the site of the still
remembered “Shepherd and Shepherdess,” in the City-road. “The atmosphere
being extremely calm, and the sun shining brightly, the machine, after
it had ascended to a moderate height, seemed to hang over the city for
nearly half an hour, presenting a beautiful appearance, as its sides
glistened with the beams of that orb, towards which it appeared to be
conveying two of the inhabitants of a different planet.” It descended
near Ewell in Surrey. At a distance of ten miles from this spot, Mr.
Graham, another aërial navigator, let off another balloon from the Star
and Garter Tavern, near Kew-bridge. “During the preparations, the
gardens began to fill with a motley company of farmers’ families, and
tradesmen from the neighbourhood, together with a large portion of city
folks, and a small sprinkle of some young people of a better dressed
order. The fineness of the day gave a peculiar interest to the scene,
which throughout was of a very lively description. Parties of ladies,
sweeping the ‘green sward,’ their gay dresses, laughing eyes, and the
cloudless sky, made every thing look gay. Outside, it was a multitude,
as far as the eye could see on one side. The place had the appearance of
a fair, booths and stalls for refreshments being spread out, as upon
these recreative occasions. Carts, drays, coaches, and every thing which
could enable persons the better to overlook the gardens, were put into
eager requisition, and every foot of resting-room upon Kew-bridge had
found an anxious and curious occupant. In the mean time, fresh arrivals
were taking place from all directions, but the clouds of dust which
marked the line of the London-road, in particular, denoted at once the
eagerness and numbers of the new comers. A glimpse in that direction
showed the pedestrians, half roasted with the sun, and half suffocated
with the dust, still keeping on their way towards the favoured spot.
About five o’clock, Mr. Graham having seated himself in the car of his
vehicle, gave the signal for committing the machine to its fate. She
swung in the wind for a moment, but suddenly righting, shot up in a
directly perpendicular course, amidst the stunning shout of the
assembled multitude, Mr. Graham waving the flags and responding to their
cheers. Nothing could be more beautiful than the appearance of the
balloon at the distance of about a mile from the earth, for from
reflecting back the rays of the sun, it appeared a solid body of gold
suspended in the air. It continued in sight nearly an hour and a half;
and the crowd, whose curiosity had brought them together, had not
entirely dispersed from the gardens before seven o’clock. On the way
home they were gratified with the sight of Mr. Green’s balloon, which
was seen distinctly for a considerable time along the Hammersmith-road.
The shadows of evening were lengthening, and
------ midst falling dew,
While glow the Heavens with the last steps of day,
Far through their rosy depths it did pursue
Its solitary way.”[78]