Jorrocks' Jaunts and JollitiesSurtees, Robert Smith
General
Jorrocks' Jaunts and Jollities
Surtees, Robert Smith
England -- Fiction; Fox hunting -- Fiction; Hunting stories
steamed from Margate, racing against and beating the _Royal William._
This had the Lord Mayor and Aldermen on board, who had gone down to the
extent of the city jurisdiction to meet the Queen, and have an excuse
for a good dinner. The deck presented a gay scene, being covered with a
military band, and the gaudy-liveried lackeys belonging to the Mansion
House, and sheriffs whose clothes were one continuous mass of gold lace
and frippery, shining beautifully brilliant in the midday sun. The royal
yacht, with its crimson and gold pennant floating on the breeze, came
towering up at a rapid pace, with the Queen sitting under a canopy on
deck. As we neared, all hats were off, and three cheers--or at least as
many as we could wedge in during the time the cortege took to sweep past
us--were given, our band consisting of three brandy-faced musicians,
striking up _God save the King_--a compliment which Her Majesty
acknowledged by a little mandarining; and before the majority of the
passengers had recovered from the astonishment produced by meeting a
live Queen on the Thames, the whole fleet had shot out of sight. By the
time the ripple on the water, raised by their progress, had subsided,
we had all relapsed into our former state of apathy and sullenness. A
duller or staider set I never saw outside a Quakers' meeting. Still the
beggars eat, as when does a cockney not in the open air? The stewards of
these steamboats must make a rare thing of their places, for they have
plenty of custom at their own prices. In fact, being in a steamboat is a
species of personal incarceration, and you have only the option between
bringing your own prog, or taking theirs at whatever they choose to
charge--unless, indeed, a person prefers going without any. Jorrocks
took nothing. He laid down again after the Queen had passed, and never
looked up until we were a mile or two off Herne Bay.
With the reader's permission, we will suppose that we have just landed,
and, bags in hand, ascended the flight of steps that conduct passengers,
as it were, from the briny ocean on to the stage of life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account