  T The following morceau gives so quaint an account of a day’s outing in the last century that I have thought it a pity to let it remain buried. It is by J. West, and was published in 1787: From London to Richmond I took an excursion, For the sake of my health and in hopes of diversion: Thus, walking without any cumbersome load, I mark’d ev’ry singular sight on the road. In Hyde Park I met a hump-back’d macarony Who was pleased I should see how he manag’d his pony. The Cockney was dresst in true blue and in buff, In buckskin elastic, but all in the rough; He wore patent spurs on his boots, with light soles, And buttons as big as some halfpenny rolls; His hair out of curls, with a tail like a rat, And sideways he clapt on his head a round hat; His cravat was tied up in a monstrous large bunch, No wonder the ladies should smile at his hunch. The next figure I saw, ’twas a milliner’s maid, A high cap and pink ribbons adorning her head, Which was made to sit well, but a little fantastic, With a hundred black pins and a cushion elastic. She stalked like a peacock when waving her fan, And us’d an umbrella upon a new plan; Her elbows she lean’d on her hoop as on crutches, And wagg’d her silk gown with the air of a duchess. She ogled and smil’d with a seeming good grace; However, there was no dependence upon it, Although her eyes sparkled from under her bonnet, I question’d her love, so I wished her farewel; But something more clever I’m ready to tell. From yon spot in the Park, just where the Parade is, Approach’d a grand sportsman, attended by ladies On bay horses mounted; they swift tore the ground, Escorted by servants and terriers around; I guess’d that my Lord went to sport with his Graces To Windsor’s wide forest or Maidenhead races. Through Kensington passing I saw a fine show Of chaises, gigs, coaches, there all in a row! When I came to a well where a girl stood close by, Who ask’d to what place do these folk go? and why? I, smiling, replied, ‘They, my dear, go to Windsor, To see king and queen,’—but could not convince her. On tiptoe the titt’ring girl ran off the stand, And broke half the pitcher she had in her hand. In Hammersmith’s parish I stopp’d for a minute; A stage-coach here halted—I saw who was in it, A grave-looking man with a long nose and chin, Two sparks and three damsels were laughing within; The outside was crowded, good Lord! what a rabble! Some Cits from Fleet Market, some Jews from Whitechapel, Some sailors from Wapping, and other such crew; But now in the basket29 I took a short view, Two wenches, one jolly, the other but lean, With barrels of oysters and shrimp-sacks between. The spirited coachman, o’ercharg’d with stout ale, When he started, drove faster than Palmer’s30 new mail; His six horses running were soon out of sight; A lad standing by, cried (as if in a swoon), ‘By Jove! they fly up like Lunardi’s31 balloon.’ Much pleas’d with my path when I march’d on apace, I reach’d Turnham Green; on that sweet rural place I stopp’d at an inn near a lane down to Chiswick, I call’d for some ale, but it tasted like physick. As good luck would have it, I could not drink more, When, seeing Jack Tar and his wife at the door, Join’d close arm-in-arm like a hook on a link, I reach’d him my mug and invited to drink; Jack, pleased with the draught, gave me thanks with an echo, And cramm’d in his jaw a large quid of tobacco. Again I set off on my way to Kew Bridge, Some boys and some girls came from under a hedge; They jump’d and they tumbled headforemost around, Each vied with the other to measure the ground; For halfpence they begg’d, and I gave ’em a penny, When I found that I’d left myself without any To pay toll at the bridge and to buy a few plumbs; My silver I chang’d for a handful of Brums.32 But, my sight being struck with the beauty of Kew, I forgot my expenses, when, having in view The new Royal Bridge33 and its elegant Arches There o’er the bright Thames, where the people in barges And pleasure-boats sail!—how delightful the scene! ‘Twixt the shades of Old Brentford and smiling Kew Green. Now forward for Richmond, and happy my lot! I soon reach’d that lofty and beautiful spot Extensive and pleasant; I could not help gazing On yonder fine landscape of Twick’nam’s sweet plains, Where kind Nature its thousandfold beauty maintains. To trace all its pleasures too short was the day; The dinner-bell ringing, I hasten’d away To a cheerful repast at a Gentleman’s seat, Whose friendship vouchsaf’d me a happy retreat. |
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