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 basket[29] 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’s[30] new mail;
He smack’d his long whip—and zounds! what a flight!
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’s[31] 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 Bridge[33] 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
Which is called Richmond Hill—what a prospect amazing!
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.
GEORGE ROBERT FITZGERALD,
COMMONLY CALLED ‘FIGHTING FITZGERALD.’
