The former began early in the forenoon and went on until the evening.
The people came down from London in boats for the most part, and by the
Old Kent Road in vehicles of every description, or even on foot for the
whole five miles. If it was a fine morning the park was filled with the
working classes and the young men and maidens belonging to the working
classes. The sports were primitive: the favourite amusement was for a
line of youths and girls to run down hill hand in hand. The slope was
steep, the pace was rapid: before long half of them were sprawling
headlong or rolling over and over, with such displays and derangements
as may be imagined. Or there were games of kiss in the ring and
thread-my-needle: or there were sailors showing the Cockneys how to
dance the hornpipe; men with telescopes through which could be seen the
men hanging in chains on the Isle of Dogs, or St. Paul's Cathedral: or
there were the old pensioners telling yarns of the battles they had
fought, especially the Battle of Trafalgar, when to every man, as it
seemed, Fortune had caused the hero Nelson to fall into his arms.
Outside the Park the street was filled with booths where everything
could be bought, as at Lady Fair, which was worthless, including
gingerbread. There were theatrical booths, shows of pictures,
pantomimes, Punch and Judy, exhibitions of monsters, dwarfs, giants,
bearded ladies, mermaids, menageries of wild beasts, feats of
legerdemain, fire-eaters, boxers and quarterstaff players, cock
fighting, and every other conceivable amusement. In the evening, beside
the Theatre, there were the dancing booths. The same cause which led to
the suppression of the Lady Fair brought about that of Greenwich Fair.
It was suppressed, I think, about the year 1855. I myself saw it in
1851, but only in the afternoon, when it was already, I remember, a
good-natured crowd playing horse tricks upon each other, and making a
noise, which, with the bellowing of the show folk, the blaring of the
bands, the cries of the boys and girls on the merry-go-rounds, and the
roar of the crowd, one will never forget. For my own part I am of
opinion that the noise was the worst part of the fair: that what went on
in the evening would have gone on just as much outside the Fair as in
it: and that it did very little harm to let the people enjoy themselves
in their own way, which was a coarse, somewhat drunken and somewhat
indecent way.
CHAPTER X
ST. MARY OVERIES
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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