Brown draws a vivid if somewhat unpleasant picture of the streets.[589] 'Some Carry, others are Carried: Make way there, says a gouty leg'd Chairman, that is carrying a Punk of Quality to a Morning's Exercise; or a Bartholomew Baby Beau, newly launched out of a Chocolate House, with his Pockets as empty as his brains. Make room there, says another Fellow driving a Wheelbarrow of Nuts, that spoil the Lungs of the City Prentices. One draws, another drives. Stand up there you blind Dog, says a Carman, Will you have the Cart squeeze your Guts out? One Tinker knocks, another bawls, Have you a Brass Pot, Iron Pot, Kettle, Skillet, or a Frying Pan to mend? Whilst another yelps louder than Homer's Stentor, Two a groat, and four for Sixpence Mackerel. One draws his Mouth up to his Ears, and howls out, Buy my Flounders, and is followed by an old burly Drab, that screams out the sale of her Mades and her Souls at the same Instant.
'Here a sooty Chimney Sweeper takes the Wall of a grave Alderman, and a Broom man justles the Parson of the Parish. There a fat greasie Porter runs a Trunk full butt upon you, while another salutes you with a Flasket of Eggs and Butter. Turn out there you Country Putt, says a Bully with a Sword two yards long jarring at his heels, and throws him into the Kennel. By and by comes a Christning, with the Reader screwing up his Mouth to deliver the Service a la mode de Paris, and afterwards talk immoderately nice and dull with the Gossips, and the Midwife strutting in the front, and young Original Sin as fine as Fippence, follow'd with the Vocal Musick of Kitchen Stuff ha' you Maid, and a damn'd Trumpeter calling in the Rabble to see a Calf with Six Legs and a Top Knot. There goes a Funeral with the Men of Rosemary after it, licking their Lips after three hits of White, Sack and Claret at the House of Mourning, and the Sexton walking before, as big and bluff as a Beef Eater at a Coronation. A Poet Scampers for 't as fast as his Legs will carry him, and at his heels a brace of Bandog Bailiffs, with open Mouths ready to devour him and all the Nine Muses.'
Let us turn to a prettier street scene. It is May Day, and, although maypoles are banished to the country, where they still hold their own, London celebrates it in another fashion. The milkmaids hold their festival, and even Gay's 'Sallow Milkmaid's' cheeks must have brightened at the prospect of such a treat. Confiding customers lent them silver plate, and women's taste and a few ribbons make a gorgeous trophy. Misson could not help being struck with it: 'On the First of May, and the five or six Days following, all the pretty young Country girls that serve the Town with Milk, dress themselves up very neatly, and borrow abundance of Silver Plate, whereof they make a Pyramid, which they adorn with Ribbands and Flowers, and carry upon their Heads, instead of their common Milk Pails. In this Equipage, accompany'd by some of their fellow Milk Maids, and a Bag pipe or a Fiddle, they go from Door to Door, dancing before the Houses of their Customers, in the Midst of Boys and Girls that follow them in Troops, and every Body gives them something.'
MILKMAID ON MAY DAY.
And Steele notices:[590] 'I was looking out of my parlour window this morning, and receiving the honours which Margery, the milk maid to our lane, was doing me, by dancing before my door with the plate of her Customers on her head,' etc.
In the daytime, after dinner, Hyde Park was the fashionable resort either for promenading, riding, or driving. 'Here the people take the Diversion of the Ring: In a pretty high place which lies very open they have surrounded a Circumference of two or three hundred Paces Diameter with a sorry Kind of Ballustrade, or rather with Poles plac'd upon Stakes, but three Foot from the Ground; and the Coaches drive round and round this. When they have turn'd for some Time round one Way, they face about and turn t'other: So rowls the World.'[591]
But it evidently was falling into evil habits, for on July 1, 1712, the Queen found it necessary to issue some rules and directions 'for the better keeping Hyde Park in good Order.' The gate-keepers were to be always on duty, and not to sell ale, brandy, or other liquors. No one should leap over the ditches, or fences, or break the latter down. 'No Person to ride over the grass on the South side of the Gravelled Coach Road ... excepting Henry Wise, who is permitted to pass cross that Part of the Park leading from the Door in the Park Wall, next his Plantation.' No grooms or others were to ride over the banks, or slopes, of any pond. No stage coach, hackney coach, chaise with one horse, cart, waggon, or funeral should pass through the park; and no one should cut or lop any of the trees.
As evening drew on the lamps were lit, i.e. if there were not a full moon, or in the summer time; but should the pavement be up, or a sewer open, a lantern was specially provided.
Where a dim Gleam the paly Lanthorn throws
O'er the mid' Pavement; heapy Rubbish grows,
Or arched Vaults their gaping Jaws extend,
Or the dark Caves to Common Shores descend.
Oft' by the Winds, extinct the Signal lies.
Or smother'd in the glimm'ring Socket dies,
E'er Night has half roll'd round her Ebon Throne;
In the wide Gulph the shatter'd Coach o'erthrown,
Sinks with the Snorting Steeds; the Reins are broke,
And from the cracking Axle flies the Spoke.