The History and Origin of Fairlop Fair, with Memoirs of Mr. Daniel Day, the Founder, &c.

THIS curious and interesting account, written by a gentleman of Essex, intimate with one of the descendants of Mr. Daniel Day, will afford us an instance of its being in the power of almost every man, to add to the felicity of his neighbours and fellow creatures. The subject before us, though in the middling rank of life, for a series of years had the gratification to see the hearts of hundreds annually rejoiced and made glad, by his means, around the old Oak, and thousands to this time assemble there, on the day he set apart for innocent pastime and rational recreation, so that the benevolent views of his heart were not buried with him in his grave: and, we most sincerely hope, while the spot whereon stood the far-famed Fairlop Oak is to be pointed out, the sons and daughters of freedom and hilarity will meet beneath the delightful shades of the Forest of Hainault, in commemoration of the Founder of the Feast and Fair, Daniel Day.

Daniel Day was born in the parish of St. Mary Overy, (in which parish his father was an opulent brewer) in the year 1683, and for a great number of years, until his death, was a very considerable engine, pump, and blockmaker, in the parish of St. John’s, Wapping, where, to this day, his memory is respected as a great benefactor to that parish, particularly in the gift of the great bell at the consecration of the new church in 1760, and as an upright and ingenious tradesman, a great mechanic, as the many inventions he has left behind him in the construction of various descriptions of engines and pumps, and of the improvement he made in the jiggers used by brewers in the starting of beer, which is worked by them to this day, sufficiently proves. He was of a most charitable and humane temper, and exemplarily generous and liberal in his principles and actions; to evince this we need only mention his portioning off his twin nieces in his life-time with £1000 each, one of whom lies buried near him. He would not only lend a distressed friend considerable sums, but he invariably refused the smallest interest, and very frequently forgave the principal; in short, his character for probity was such, that his neighbours were ever satisfied with his arbitrations in their disputes, to which his abilities were amply adequate; his memory was astonishingly retentive, in so great a degree, as to enable him to repeat, almost verbatim, a long discourse or sermon. He was not the enemy of any man, or particular description of men, but the muscles of his face were violently agitated whenever he heard of litigation in law, and he always professed to be uneasy in the company of the practitioners of it.

Notwithstanding the very large sums he distributed in charities and lent, he lived in comfort and died rich, leaving to the eight fatherless children of his niece, whom we have already alluded to, the bulk of his property to be equally divided.

It is with some degree of pain we mention that Mr. Day was never married, because with a heart replete with the milk of human kindness, and possessing an understanding at the same time solid and elevated, he wanted only the additional great characters of a husband and father to have made him more completely the great and good man.

Mr. Day had many eccentricities, but they were unoffending in their nature, and no man was ever splashed or injured by his hobby-horse. We should be doing injustice to his memory if we did not mention a peculiar and very high trait in his character, and that was, his kindness to his servants; in a few words, he was their friend. He had a widowed house-keeper who lived with him for thirty years, and died in his life-time at a very advanced age. She had two very strong attachments, one to her wedding-ring and garments, and the other to tea; when she died, Mr. Day would not permit her ring to be taken off—he said, “If that was attempted, she would come to life again,” and directed that she should be buried in her wedding suit, and a pound of tea in each hand; and these directions were literally obeyed.

This whim was highly illustrative of his good nature, for although he had an aversion to tea, and never drank it, he did not debar his servants the use of it; and in the instance of his old house-keeper, carried his liberality even into her grave, by providing her a commodity there, which she was so fond of here. And although a bachelor, no man honoured more the marriage state, as will be seen hereafter.

Mr. Day enjoyed as much as any man his friend and pitcher, but he was temperate and regular in his mode of living, and very fond of the exercise of walking; by this means he enjoyed an uncommon share of health, until his death.

We are now drawing towards that last scene which sooner or later must happen to the mighty and the weak, the rich and the poor, the good and the bad.

A few years before Mr. Day’s death, a branch of the Old Oak received a shock, either by decay, by lightning, or storm; this operated upon Mr. Day as the warning of an old friend—it pointed out to him the instability of life, and the effects of time; and he received the call with the resignation of a christian, and the fortitude of a man, who was conscious of having performed his allotted part with propriety.

He set about with alacrity, a task which to some men would have been an awful preparation for the journey: his first business was to provide the repository; by the favour of the lord of the manor, he procured the dismembered limb of his favourite tree: this being done, he employed a Mr. Clear, a carpenter, to measure him for a coffin, and to make it out of this oak. Mr. Clear executed his job, and brought home his work, which was neatly pannelled, and highly rubbed and varnished with bees-wax. Mr. Day viewed his future habitation with the utmost serenity and philosophy, and addressing himself to the carpenter, said, “Mr. Clear, I have heard that when a person dies he is much stretched, and consequently much longer than when living,” and, punning upon the man’s name, went on, “now, Mr. Clear, it is not very CLEAR to me that you have made this coffin long enough, but, however, we’ll try;” and laying himself down in the coffin, he found it too short. “Never mind it,” says the Stoic, “you must desire my executors to cut off my head and put it between my legs.”

His next care was the disposition of his estate, and in this instance, as well as in every action of his life, he demonstrated himself to be a just and honest man.

After bequeathing several legacies, and providing for the children of his niece, as we have before observed, he carried his harmless oddities to the last action possible, and in that his mind shone with its wonted benignity. He directed his executors to convey his remains, by water, to Barking, accompanied by six journeymen pump and block-makers, as bearers; to each of whom he gave a new white leather apron and a guinea.

There is a proof of his munificence that ought not to be omitted; it was his custom, upon the birth of all his niece’s children, to present the mother with a gold coral, a pap-boat, and a purse of 50 guineas. I appeal to those of my fair country-women who are mothers, whether such a gallant present would not be very pleasing to them upon such occasions; and I cannot dismiss this account without observing, that the poor were daily fed at his door, and never craved other relief from him in vain.

Mr. Day was not one of those persons who left the grand account to be balanced at the hour of dissolution, or who have to trust only to a sick-bed repentance for the errors of their whole lives: he was a protestant, and a constant attendant upon divine worship at his parish church, and though he had no child of his own, he would always enforce the attendance of his nephews and nieces, their children, and of his servants.

Mr. Day was not without his aversions, which were generally well founded and immoveable, but he had few resentments.

In his dress and manners he was simplicity itself, and he was an amateur of music and dancing, the meetings of which he frequently attended; upon one of these occasions he was invited to a superior circle, where he was told it would be necessary to wear ruffles, and a pair of the finest point lace was presented to him; he viewed them with some degree of contempt, and said, “If it was the custom he must comply, but it should be in his own way,” and directed his house-keeper to get the lace dyed green, in which colour he wore them at that assembly, and upon all similar occasions.

Mr. Day retained his health until within a day or two of his death, and his faculties to the last. As he had lived, so he died—a devout christian, a sincere friend, a good master, and an honest man; he was just without austerity, liberal without profuseness, free without intemperance, and lively without excess; in fine, he lived merry and wise, and died universally revered and lamented on the 19th of October, 1767, in the 84th year of his age, and was buried agreeable to his Will, in his oak coffin, in the churchyard at Barking, in Essex, where the following epitaph may be seen:—

Here lieth interr’d the Body of Mr. Daniel Day, Block and Pump Maker, late of the Parish of St. John’s Wapping; who departed this Life October the 19th 1767, Aged 84 years.

Death, from this world, hath set me free From all my pain and misery.

On the reverse side of the stone appears the following:—

As a respectful tribute to the memory of the Founder of Fairlop Fair, the Company of Block Makers caused this stone to be repaired A.D. 1829, under the direction of the following members:—Joseph Flowers, William James Grinyer, Thomas Hemingway, Abraham Kimm, William Row, and John Owen, Treasurer.

Close to his grave is a brick tomb, with an inscription to the memory of his sister, Mrs. Sarah Killick, who died the 22d of August, 1782, in the 93d year of her age. A woman remarkable for the beauty of her person, sweetness of disposition, and the share of health she also enjoyed through life. Till her death she could play at cards, and read and work, without spectacles.

Having thus briefly introduced to the reader, an outline of the character of Mr. Daniel Day, who in the latter part of his life was called “Old Daniel Day,” we will proceed to say a few words of his favourite Oak.—This venerable and stupendous tree stood in Hainault Forest, about 10 miles from London, 3 from Ilford, and 2 from the village of Chigwell, in Essex. The trunk, or main stem, of this giant of the forest measured, about a yard from the ground, 36 feet in circumference! From this issued 11 vast arms, each of the dimensions of a tree of moderate growth. In the meridian of the day, about 60 years ago, it is said that its shadow extended over nearly an acre of ground! This tree was, about the year 1800, fenced round with a close paling, above five feet high, almost all the extremities of its branches sawed off, and Mr. Forsyth’s composition applied to them, to preserve them from decay; and the injury which the trunk of the tree had sustained from the lighting of fires in the cavities, was repaired, as much as possible, by the same composition. At the same time, on one of the branches, was fixed a board, with this inscription: “All good Foresters are requested not to hurt this old Tree, a plaster having been lately applied to its wounds.” The rabble, however, regardless of the respect due to the veteran of the Forest, soon broke down the paling, lighted fires within the trunk, as heretofore, and in consequence, before long, several of the limbs were broken quite off.

On the 25th of June, 1805, this famous Oak was discovered to be on fire, occasioned by a party of sixty persons, who came from London in several carriages during the morning, and amused themselves through the day with playing at cricket and other sports; they had kindled a fire, which had spread very considerably after they left the spot, but it was not discovered for two hours. A number of persons came with water to extinguish the flames, which was not effected until the main branch on the south side, with part of the body, was consumed.

The high winds of February 1820, however, stretched its massy trunk and limbs on that turf which it had for so many ages overshadowed with its verdant foliage; and thus it exhibited a melancholy memento of the irresistable power of time in bringing to an end not only the flower of a season, but also the towering growth of many ages.

The remains of the Fairlop Oak were purchased by Mr. Seabrooke, the builder of St. Pancras Church, and both the magnificent pulpits of that church were formed out of it, and they are certainly the most beautiful of their kind to be met with.

Our friend Mr. Day—for the friend of mankind never dies—had a small estate, whether hereditary, or a purchase, we do not know, near the Fairlop Oak, and thither he annually resorted, about a fortnight after Midsummer, to receive his rents; the congeniality of his temper would not suffer him to receive the good things of this world alone, and it was his custom to invite a few of his neighbours to accompany him, and there he would treat them with a repast of beans and bacon, &c. under the canopy of the Oak, the accomodations being provided from an adjacent small public-house, the Maypole. Mr. Day’s friends were so well pleased with the rural novelty, that they one and all pledged themselves to accompany him on the same occasion every year, on the first Friday in July, during their lives.

In the course of a few years, this amicable meeting greatly increased, and became known to the neighbouring gentry, farmers, and yeomanry; and a vast number of them annually, on the day of Mr. Day’s jubilee, visited the place. Suttling booths were soon found to be necessary for their accommodation, which naturally produced various other booths for sale, arranged around the huge Oak; and about the year 1725, this charming spot began to present every resemblance of a regular fair. It progressively increasing, puppet-shows, wild beasts, fruits, gingerbread, ribbons, and toys, of all descriptions, attended with the usual pastimes of a country wake, soon succeeded, and in a very few years it became one of the most respectable, well-regulated, and harmonious, fairs round the metropolis. This new generation of Mr. Day’s creation became his principal hobby-horse, and he found himself highly flattered by the honest attentions of his numerous visitors.

Suffer me here to digress for a few moments: methinks we see the good old man indulging the graceful sensations resulting from a knowledge of his having founded and promoted a meeting of innocent conviviality, and receiving the smiling congratulations of artless beauty, dancing around him and his venerable Tree, with bosoms light and pure as the atmosphere above them. Say, ye sons and daughters of dissipation, who indulge in midnight revelry, are your pursuits equal to the simple joys of a country fair? Is there no difference between the confined and crowded play-house, or opera, where you are all gasping for a little contaminated effluvia, and the healthful and fragrant breezes of sylvan Fairlop?

See the ruddy glow of rosy health, so fascinatingly contrasted with the lily’s rival, and the natural ringlets flowing with the playful wind! Behold the modest, yet delightful work of nature! Is there no distinction between these simple beauties, and the artful manufactured face, on which the faithless rouge and poisonous white lay waste God’s best of works, and leave not a wreck behind?

But to return: the open and generous heart of Mr. Day expanded with inexpressible delight at being the cause of happiness to others, he thought some little return due to the lads and lasses, who so graciously favoured him with their company; he provided several sacks of beans, and a sufficient quantity of bacon, dressed; the bacon was mixed in slices with the beans, and distributed from the trunk of the Tree to the multitude in pansful. The happy, frolicksome contest for the envied portion, is more easily conceived than described. Unfortunate was he who did not procure a share for his fair-one. Blessings were the donor’s reward, and the air resounded with huzzas; the very leaves of the venerable Tree nodded in silent and majestic gratitude: this custom he continued to his death. How long the chosen companions of this festival lived to accompany the founder, is not known. It is not to be doubted but they individually kept their word. Mr. Day survived them all, about ten in number, several years.

In the former part of Mr. Day’s life, he usually walked to Fairlop and back again; later in life he was wont to ride on horseback, but having a fall from his horse, he declared he would never cross another; he kept his vow, sold his horse, and purchased a mule: this obstinate animal also, unconscious of the worth he bore, threw his rider in the mire. Mr. Day discarded his mule as he had done his horse, and determined never more to trust himself upon the back of a four-legged beast. His next resource was a post-chaise or a coach; in one of these he also met with an accident, and ever after refused to enter into either. This last circumstance induced him to direct his remains to be conveyed by water to the place of burial, saying, “If he was conveyed in a hearse, he should be awakened.” He next invented a machine to go by the aid of mechanical power without horses, which, after two years successful trial, broke down in attempting the third expedition. His dernier resort was a jockey-cart, in which, attended by music, he took his annual trip up to the July preceding his death.

Long previous to Mr. Day’s exit, Fairlop Fair was known all over Essex, and the adjoining counties; and naturally the inhabitants of Wapping, and the eastern parts of London, could not be ignorant of it, consequently it was attended by a vast concourse of people. The engine-makers, pump-makers, and block-makers of Wapping, and other places contiguous to the river, a few years before Mr. Day’s death, to the amount of about thirty or forty, every year went to the Fair in a boat made of one piece of entire fir, covered with an awning, mounted on a coach-carriage, drawn by six horses, with flags, streamers, and pendants flying, and a band of music, attended by a great many persons on horseback, in carriages, and on foot. This custom, on the first Friday in every July, has been successively observed to this time, in compliment, and in commemoration of their old friend and “brother chip,” to whose pious memory they never fail to drink. The great annual resort to Fairlop Fair is so well known for twenty miles around, that it is needless to say more on the subject than that in point of the number of persons who go to it, and in accomodations and articles for sale, it is not inferior to any fair near the metropolis, excepting that it is only of one day’s duration. Seven and twenty years have now elapsed since the famous Fairlop Oak ceased to attract the attention of the holiday-makers, but the mirth and festivity, gypsying, archery, donkey-riding, swinging, &c. are still to be witnessed to a great extent. Long may Fairlop’s Friday continue to be joyously looked forward to by all as “the good Day’s” day of “fun and jollity!”