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.
Should anyone wish for a graphic account of Irish life in the later portion of the eighteenth century, he should read Sir Jonah Barrington’s ‘Personal Sketches of Ireland,’ and he will find afterwards that Lever’s novels afford but a faint reflection of the manners and customs existing in the west and south of Ireland. Ignorance, idleness, and dissipation were the characteristic of the wealthier classes, and a meeting of the ‘gentry’ could seldom take place without quarrelling and bloodshed. At races, fairs, and elections, the lower class enjoyed themselves likewise, after their kind, in breaking of heads and drunkenness. It was a singular state of things, but it must be borne in mind, whilst reading the following memoirs, as, otherwise, the facts therein related would scarcely be credited.[34]