Majesty with Distinct Robes, upon several occasions; also the Salt Spoons, Forks and Cups, us'd at the Coronation.' Altogether, a visit to the Tower then very much resembled one nowadays. As to the tombs at Westminster, what more do we want to know about them, as they then were, than what is contained in _Spectator_ No. 26, where Addison grumbles at Sir Cloudesley Shovel's monument, 'Instead of the brave rough English Admiral, which was the distinguishing Character of that plain gallant Man, he is represented on his Tomb, by the Figure of a Beau, dress'd in a long Perriwig, and reposing himself upon Velvet Cushions under a Canopy of State? 'And for all else in the grand old abbey, have we not the lifelike description of Sir Roger's visit?[339] how he saw Jacob's pillar, sat in the Coronation Chair, handled Edward the Third's sword, and afterwards wanted the Spectator to call on him 'at his Lodgings in _Norfolk Buildings_, and talk over these Matters with him more at leisure.' It would be a literary profanity to deal with them except in their entirety. [Footnote 339: _Spectator._] But the lions, the tombs, and Bedlam could never be sufficient recreative pabulum for a large city, so there were outlets for the exuberance of their spirits in the three fairs, Bartholomew, May fair, and Southwark. Bartholomew fair stands pre-eminent, both for its antiquity, its size, and length of duration. In Anne's time it was no longer the great mart for cloth it used to be--and the fair was given over to rioting and unlimited licence. This fair is a most congenial subject for Ward's pen, and he gives it free range--too free, alas! for many extracts. He describes the entrance to it as a '_Belfegor's_ Concert, the rumbling of _Drums_, mix'd with the intolerable Squalling of _Cat Calls_ and _Penny Trumpets_,' so, to get out of the noise and smell, prominent in which latter was 'the Singeing of Pigs, and burnt Crackling of over Roasted Pork' (which was a specialty in the fair), he turned into an ale house, where he had doctored beer, and was so annoyed by a waiter, who would constantly inquire, 'Do you call, sirs?' that he threatened to kick him downstairs. From this upper room he could see the booths, and note the humours of the fair: the mock finery of the actors, who were 'strutting round their Balconies in their Tinsey Robes, and Golden Leather Buskins;' and the sorry buffoonery of the Merry Andrews. Having rested, he sallied forth into the fair, saw the rope-dancers, one of whom was a negress, who set a countryman near Ward into fits of laughter, which he explained: 'Master, says he, I have oftentimes heard of the Devil upon two Sticks, but never Zee it bevore in me Life. Bezide, Maister, who can forbear Laughing to see the Devil going to Dance?' He speaks in high terms of the German rope-dancer, of whom Lauron gives two portraits. He then went into a booth to see 'a Dwarf _Comedy_, Sir-nam'd a _Droll_,' but does not seem to have cared much about it.