Such an opportunity for his satirical pen could not be missed by C. F. Lawler, the then _pseudo_ Peter Pindar, and he wrote thereon: “Liliputian Navy!!! The R----t’s Fleet, or John Bull at the Serpentine.”--“The P----e’s Jubilee.” “The R----l Showman.” “The R----l Fair, or Grande Galante Show.” And, on the sale of the Temple of Concord, which had been erected in the Green Park: “The Temple knock’d down: or R----l Auction. The last lay of the Jubilee.” They are mostly scurrilous and spiteful, but from the first of them I take the following:--
“Now to Hyde Park the crowds repair, To mark the wonders of the fair; To view the long extended line, The glory of the Serpentine.
“Now sounds the Cannon, near and far, The signal for the naval war, The cockle fleet their flounder sails Now spread to catch the whisp’ring gales.
“Now meet the rival ships; now rave The echoing thunders o’er the wave; Within the banks the eels retire, To shun the fury of the fire.
“The startled pike lifts up his head, Curious, tho’ paralyz’d with dread; Snatches a momentary peep, Then dives below the nether deep.
“And all the realm of fish--roach, dace, Perch, minnow, chub, and tench, and plaice, Far from the scene of havoc fly, And seek the stream’s extremity.
“Whisking his tail a flying eel Struck a three decker’s cockle’s keel (The vessel was the navy’s boast, And lay at anchor near the coast).
“Ungovernable from the stroke, Quick from her _netting-pin_ she broke; With rude concussion struck the shore, Then bilged, and sank, to ride no more.
“Boats from the cockle-shells at hand Were quickly lower’d down and mann’d, The gallant mariners to save-- To snatch them from a wat’ry grave.
“Scar’d at a spectacle so shocking, Each ’prentice boy doff’d shoe and stocking, Wading knee-deep, with shorten’d breath, To snatch the struggling tars from death.
“An angler threw his fishing-line Into the ruffled Serpentine; Hook’d up the ship with no small pain, And dragg’d her from the mimic main.
“See the tri-coloured cockles run, The gaping crowd enjoy the fun; Some still maintain a running fight Some strike, some sink to endless night!
“‘Lord! ’twas a glorious fight,’ says Dick; ‘Monsieur at last got devilish sick!’ ‘Then ’twas a real fight,’ cry’d Sam; ‘Why, lad, I thought it all a sham!’