The English Spy: An Original Work Characteristic, Satirical, And Humorous. C. M. Westmacott

      1 "Mother Goose," formerly a procuress, and one of the most abandoned of her profession. When from her advanced age, and the loss of her eye-sight, she could no longer obtain money by seducing females from the path of virtue, she married a man of the name of H., (commonly called Gentleman H.) and for years was led by him to the students' apartments in the different colleges with baskets of the choicest flowers. Her ancient, clean, and neat appearance, her singular address, and, above all, the circumstance of her being blind, never failed of procuring her at least ten times the price of her posy, and which was frequently doubled when she informed the young gentlemen of the generosity, benevolence, and charity of their grandfathers, fathers, or uncles whom she knew when they were at college. She had several illegitimate children, all females, and all were sacrificed by their unnatural mother, except one, who was taken away from her at a very tender age by the child's father's parents. When of age, this child inherited her father's property, and is now (I believe) the wife of an Irish nobleman, and to this time is unconscious that Mother Goose, of Oxford, gave her birth. The person who was instrumental in removing the child is still living in Oxford, and will testify to the authenticity of the fact here related. His present majesty never passed through Oxford without presenting Mother Goose with a donation, but of course without knowing her early history.

      Having, as Echo expressed it, now broke cover, and being advanced one step in the study of the fathers, we prepared to quit the Abingdon fair and rural shades of Bagley on our return to Oxford, something lighter in pocket, and a little too in morality. We raced the whole of the distance home, to the great peril of several groups of town raff whom we passed in our way. On our arrival my friends had each certain lectures to attend, or college duties to perform. An idle Freshman, there was yet three hours good before the invitation to the spread, and as kind fortune willed it to amuse the time, a packet arrived from Horatio Heartley. He had been spending the winter in town with his aunt, Lady Mary Oldstyle, and had, with his usual tact, been sketching the varied groups which form the circle of fashionable life. It was part of the agreement between us, when leaving each other at Eton, that we should thus communicate the characteristic traits of the society we were about to amalgamate with. He has, in the phraseology of the day, just come out, and certainly appears to have made the best use of his time.

      ===

KENSINGTON GARDENS—SUNDAY EVENING.

       Table of Contents

Singularities of 1824.

       Table of Contents

       WESTERN ENTRANCE INTO THE METROPOLIS; A DESCRIPTIVE SKETCH.

      General Views of the Author relative to Subject and Style—

       Time and Place—Perspective Glimpse of the great City—The

       Approach—Cockney Salutations—The Toll House—Western

       Entrance to Cockney Land—Hyde Park—Sunday Noon—

       Sketches of Character, Costume, and Scenery—The Ride and

       Drive—Kensington Gardens—Belles and Beaux—Stars and

       Fallen Stars—Singularities of 1824—Tales of Ton—On Dits

       and Anecdotes—Sunday Evening—High Life and Low Life, the

       Contrast—Cockney Goths—Notes, Biographical, Amorous, and

       Exquisite.

       ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE

      Its wealth and fashion, wit and folly,

       Pleasures, whims, and melancholy:

       Of all the charming belles and beaux

       Who line the parks, in double rows;

       Of princes, peers, their equipage,

       The splendour of the present age;

       Of west-end fops, and crusty cits,

       Who drive their gigs, or sport their tits;

       With all the groups we mean to dash on

       Who form the busy world of fashion:

       Proceeding onwards to the city,

       With sketches, humorous and witty.

       The man of business, and the Change,

       Will come within our satire's range:

       Nor rank, nor order, nor condition,

       Imperial, lowly, or patrician,

       Shall, when they see this volume, cry—

       "The satirist has pass'd us by,"

       But with good humour view our page

       Depict the manners of the age.

       Our style shall, like our subject, be

       Distinguished by variety;

       Familiar, brief we could say too—

       (It shall be whimsical and new),

       But reader that we leave to you.

       'Twas morn, the genial sun of May

       O'er nature spread a cheerful ray,

       When Cockney Land, clothed in her best,

       We saw, approaching from the west,

       And 'mid her steeples straight and tall

       Espied the dome of famed St. Paul,

       Surrounded with a cloud of smoke

       From many a kitchen chimney broke;

       A nuisance since consumed below

       By bill of Michael Angelo.{1}

       The coach o'er stones was heard to rattle,

       1 M. A. Taylor's act for compelling all large factories,

       which have steam and other apparatus, to consume their own

       smoke.

      The guard his bugle tuned for battle,

       The horses snorted with delight,

       As Piccadilly came in sight.

       On either side the road was lined

       With vehicles of ev'ry kind,

       And as the rapid wheel went round,

       There seem'd scarce room to clear the ground.

       "Gate-gate-push on—how do—well met—

       Pull up—my tits are on the fret—

       The number—lost it—tip then straight,

       That covey vants to bilk the gate."

       The toll-house welcome this to town.

       Your prime, flash, bang up, fly, or down,

       A tidy team of prads—your castor's

       Quite a Joliffe tile—my master.

       Thus buck and coachee greet each other,

       And seem familiar as a brother.

       No Chinese wall, or rude barrier,

       Obstructs the view, or entrance here;

       Nor fee or passport—save the warder,

       Who draws to keep the roads in order;

       No questions ask'd, but all that please