To Epsom Downs to the Great Derby Race. In a Barouche, with a Party, over Vauxhall Bridge, and by Clapham, carrying Hampers with Store of every Thing needful for a brave Lunch. The Windows and House Fronts crowded, and School-Boys mounted on Walls and Gates, and they and the Urchins in the Street shouting, as though we were going to the Races for their Amusement. But Lack! to see the pretty smart Damsels come out to gaze at us, or peeping behind Blinds and Curtains, all in high Glee, and good Humour do wonderfully heighten Beauty, as I do tell my Wife. The Road through Trees and Orchards, and the Sun shining through the young Leaves and on the Horse-Chestnut Blossoms, and the Flowers looking bright like the Lasses. So we on, till into the Ruck, which is the Jam of Carriages caused by the Stoppage at the Turnpike: and did banter each other and them about us. Across the Course to the Hill, the Admission cost us £1. Good Lack! what a Crowd of People collected to see which out of six-and-twenty Horses should run the fastest, and what a Medley of Vans, Omnibusses, and Taxed Carts on either Side of the Course with the People in Front of them, and the Grand Stand crowded with Heads, plenty as Blackberries, and seeming like a huge Mass of them. A Throng of Carriages about us, whereon young handsome rakish-looking Gallants with Mustaches and Cigars. Here and there, in open Coaches, Ladies in lilac and blue Dresses, and pink Bonnets, and gay Ribbons, all Manner of Colours, looking, with the parti-coloured Flags over the Booths, mighty lively. Presently a Bell rung and the Course cleared, but then to see an unlucky Dog running to get out, and the Mob yelling at him, and the poor Dog in his Fright rushing straight on like mad! Then the Horses with the motley Jockies on them prancing up and down before the Grand Stand, to show their Paces to the Folks in the Betting Ring. At last, they taken to the Post, and so started with much Cheering, and came easy round Tattenham Corner; but presently away in good earnest, like Shot! The Chief Struggle between the Flying Dutchman and Hotspur, but Yellow-Cap did win by half a Length. The Winner declared by his Number, hung out in Front of the Grand Stand, and to see the Flock of Carrier Pigeons sent up to bear away the News; but Mr. Wagstaffe do say they were Nothing to the Pigeons left behind. The Race run in three Minutes, but to think of the Money lost and won in that little Time! My Lord Eglinton and the Public, as I hear, do gain much, and the Ring and Rogues do lose, which I am glad of. After the Race to a brave Lunch; but the Gipsy Women and Children did come and beg Morsels out of our Plates, which in the Midst of all the Luxury was a sorry Sight. Then about the Course to see the Company and the Flinging at Snuff-Boxes, and the Thimble-Rig, and some playing at Roulette and Hazard, but the Police did seize and break several of the Tables, and take away the Stakes. Great Sport returning Home, with the Shouting for the Winner, and trumpeting on Horns, and tossing of Snuff-Boxes and Toys to the pretty Lasses at the Windows.
A PROSPECT OF GREENWICH FAIR.
Tuesday, May 29, 1849.—Whit-Tuesday.
Down the River with Browne to Greenwich to view the Fair. To the Park, where young Fellows and Hoydens at Archery, Donkey Riding, playing at Kiss-in-the-Ring, and running down the Hill, romping, tripping, and tumbling over Head and Heels, with Shouting, Screaming, and Laughter. Then down to the Fair, made in a narrow Space in the Town by a Couple of Rows of Booths and Sweet-Meat and Toy-Stalls, with Raree Shows at the farther End, and Swings and Roundabouts on the Outside. The Passage most insufferably crammed; and we having to force our Way between Walls hung with Dolls and gilt Ginger-Bread. The Stalls and Booths crowded also, and the Tobacco Smoke rising from the Drinking Places like a Fog. Young Prentice Blades and Shop-Boys pushing about with large Masquerade Noses, and did entertain themselves more than me. But the chief Amusement of these Roysterers and the frolicksome Wenches do seem to be scratching People behind, with a Scraper, which is a notched Disk of Wood, that turns on an Axle in a Mortise, with a Handle some six Inches long, and being dragged down a Man's Back, do make him believe that his Coat is torn, as I thought mine was, when first served so, which did trouble me. With this Noise of continual Tearing, and the Squeaking of Tin Trumpets, and blowing of Whistles, and half-a-dozen different Bands playing as many Tunes, is altogether made a most discordant Musique; and the Showmen bellowing to the Spectators to walk up, do increase the Babel. Strange to see the Lads and Lasses, heaved up and down, over and under, in the Swings, and to think what Pleasure they can take in such a Motion, which methinks a Physician might prescribe in Lieu of a Sea Voyage. With much Ado, to Richardson's Show, where a Tragedy, a Comic Song and a Pantomime all in Half an Hour, and the Tragedy accompanied on Whistles and Penny Trumpets by the Audience. But the best of the Fun outside, between the Performances, with the Beef-Eaters' Band playing, and the Show-Girls in their Spangles and Paint, dancing, and the Clowns grimacing and flinging Summersets, and the Robber Chief standing in a brave Posture in the Corner. Store of Fat Ladies, Wonderful Pigs, Giants and Dwarfs to see, and Conjurors in Plenty, specially in the Crowd, conjuring Handkerchiefs out of Pockets. In the Evening to the great Dancing-Booth, which lighted up and hung with variegated Lamps, was, to be sure, a pretty fine Sight. But the Company uproarious through Drink; and yet the Dancing without Liveliness, being mostly that rogueish Chin-and-Shoulder French Dance, gone heavily through. Here again that perpetual Scraping, and they who sold the Scrapers, did cry, "All the Fun of the Fair for 2d."; which was true. Home by the Railway Train, wherein the tipsy Passengers bawling and singing the whole of the Way. Methinks these Fairs do cause a Concourse of Rogues and bad Characters; and the more good cheap Concerts abound, and Museums and Exhibitions are opened to the Public, the less will the People frequent such Places as Greenwich Fair.
