Who has not heard of Guildhall on Lord Mayor's Day, and the Easter Ball at the Mansion House? But we profane not the pene. tralia where even Common-Councilmen fear to tread! The City Marshals, and men in armour (Heros malgré eux !); the pensive-looking state-coachmen, in all the plumpness, pomp, and verdure of prime feeding, wig, and bouquet; the postillion, '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 infinitely 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 This said, the Broomstick hastily he took, Though soon his voice in penitential strain His Broomstick thus bemourned, but mourned in vain. ་་ My poor Broomstick, of Broomsticks the best, To ashes is quite burnt away! Oh, where shall I find one so dear, That the table oft set in a roar? Thy grunting, so soft to the ear, Shall revive the choice spirits no more!"" 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. 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; An- thony Munday; Thomas Dekker; Thomas Middleton; John Squire; John Web. ster; Thomas Heywood; John Taylor (the Water-Poet, one of Ben Jonson's adopted poetical sons, and a rare slang fellow); Edward Gayton, 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 Titchburn, 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 Fosterlane-end and Soperlane-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 several 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 several barges, with drums beating, and trumpets sound. ing, and varietie of other musick to take the eare, while the flaggs and silver pend. ents made a pleasant sight delectable to the beholders. Thus the Lord Maior and Companies, together with the military souldiers being landed, put an end to the water solemnitie, than which there hath not been a more gracefull sight upon the Thames ever since the city stood. The Lord Maior being landed, the severall Companies went to their severall stations appointed for them in the streets; and the Lord Maior being now readie to proceed on his way, the military band march'd before with drums beating and colours flying, all in a noble and warlike equipage; after them the aged pensioners of the city, doing a kind of small homage for their maintenance, went bearing the escucheons of the city, and severall of the members of that Company out of which the Lord Maior was chosen. 'After these came severall gentlemen-ushers adorn'd with gold chaines; behind them certaine rich batchelours, 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 farr 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 for lorn, for want of a zealous governor the Moors and leopards, like evil 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 remained not long: for at the approach of the Lord Maior, as if now he had espy'd CHAPTER V. BUT Easter-Monday was not made only for the city's dancing dig. nitaries. It draws up the curtain of our popular merriments; and Whit-Monday, not a whit less merry, trumpets forth their joyous * 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 Mercer's 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 several 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 hard; 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 majestie, and makes the wealthy ladies covet winter, to appear clad in their sable furrs. 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.' The above is one of the rarest of the city pageants, and also one of the most interesting. 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 courtesie.' 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. * 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 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; but 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 dis, tinction, continuation. We hail the return of these festive seasons when the busy inhabitants of Lud's town and its beautiful suburbs, in spite of hard times, no trade, 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. The gods assembled on Olympus presented not a more glorious sight than the laughing divinities of One-Tree Hill,* rolling down from its enchant. ing summit! What an animated scene! Hark to the loud laugh of some youngsters that have had their roll and tumble. Yonder is a wedding party from the neighbouring village. See the jolly tar, with his true blue jacket and trowsers, checked shirt, radiant with a gilt brooch as big as a crown piece, yellow straw hat, striped stockings, and pumps; and his pretty bride, with her rosy cheeks and white favours. How light are their heels and hearts! And the blythesome couples that follow in their train-noviciates in the temple of Hymen, but who, ere long, will be called upon to act as principals! All is congratu lation, good wishes, and good humour. Scandal is dumb; envy dies for the day; disappointment gathers hope; and one wedding, like a fool, or an Irish wake, shall make many. O yes! O yes! O yes! When the peripatetic pieman rings his bell At morning, noon, or when you sit at eve; It needs no ghost to tell, In song, recitative, He warbles cakes and gingerbread to sell! There is a droll print, called Greenwich Hill, or Holiday Gambols,' with the following appropriate inscription : The Easter Monday of 1840 gave token of returning hilarity. 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, up-anddowns, 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 amus. ing themselves with cricket, fives, and archery. How sweetly has honest, merry Harry Carey described the origin of Sally in our Alley,' which touched 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 elegances 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,' Tarts of gooseberry, raspberry, cranberry; Of all sorts and sizes; Ginger beer, That won't make you queer, Like the treble X ale of Taylor and Hanbury!' 'Here, good Christians, are five Reasons why you shouldn't go to a fair, published by the London Lachrymose Society for the sup. pression of fun.' And here, good Christians, are five-and-fifty why you should! published by my Lord Chancellor Cocke Lorel, President of the High Court of Mummery, and Conscience-keeper to his merry Majesty of Queerumania, for the promotion of jollity.' These zealous rivals vociferated in each other's ears, sans intermission. The former gave away his five reasons for nothing— which was about their value: still Chancellor Cocke Lorel's fifty-five had the greater circulation, though at the noli me tangere price of a Penny Magazine. One of the better order of mendicants, whom time had touched with a gentle and reverend hand, and on whose smooth, pale brows, hung the blossoms of the grave, arrested our attention with the following quaint ditty, which pleased us, inasmuch as it seemed to smack of the olden time. 'I love but only one, And thou art only she 'Cold comfort this, broiling and frying under a burning hot sun!' soliloquised a solitary ballad-singer. But, what's the use of sighing?' (Singing.) 'Gently, Simon Scrape, you can't afford to sing to your self solus. Good luck to me! A rush o' two!-A merry holiday to your honours!' And, having two strings to his bow, and one to his fiddle, he put a favourite old tune to the rack, commenced killing time by beating it, and enforced us to own the soft impeachment of THE BALLAD-SINGER'S APOLOGY FOR GREENWICH FAIR, 'Up hill and down hill, 'tis always the same; We toil up the hill till we reach to the top; O how much more quick we descend than we climb! |