The London Pleasure Gardens of the Eighteenth Century

By Wroth and Wroth

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Title: The London Pleasure Gardens of the Eighteenth Century

Author: Arthur Edgar Wroth
Warwick William Wroth

Release date: August 28, 2023 [eBook #71511]

Language: English

Original publication: London: Macmillan and Co, 1896

Credits: deaurider, Karin Spence and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LONDON PLEASURE GARDENS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY ***

THE

LONDON PLEASURE GARDENS

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

[Illustration]

[Illustration: _Drawn in the Gardens, on the night of August
the 19^{th} 1833, by Robert Cruikshank Esq^r._----

C.H. SIMPSON, ESQ^R. M.C.R.G.V.

_For upwards of 36 Years,--with a distant view of his Colossal
Likeness in Variegated Lamps._

_To C. H. Simpson, Esq^r. M.C. of the Royal Gardens
Vauxhall,--this Print, taken in the Sixty Third year of his age,
on the Night of his benefit is, by express permission, most
respectfully dedicated by his obliged and humble Servant,--the
Publisher._

_London. Published by W. Hidd. 14. Chandos St.^t West Strand,
August 20.^{th} 1833._]

THE LONDON
PLEASURE GARDENS

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

BY
WARWICK WROTH, F.S.A.
OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM

ASSISTED BY
ARTHUR EDGAR WROTH

_WITH SIXTY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS_

London
MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD.
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.
1896

_The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved_

“A great deal of company, and the weather and garden pleasant
and it is very cheap and pleasant going thither.... But to hear
the nightingale and the birds, and here fiddles and there a
harp, and here a Jew’s trump, and here laughing and there fine
people walking is mighty divertising.”--SAMUEL PEPYS.

PREFACE

In the following pages an attempt has been made to write, for the first
time, a history of the London pleasure gardens of the last century.
Scattered notices of these gardens are to be found in many histories of
the London parishes and in other less accessible sources, and merely
to collect this information in a single volume would not, perhaps,
have been a useless task. It is one, however, that could not have
been undertaken with much satisfaction unless there was a prospect of
making some substantial additions--especially in the case of the less
known gardens--to the accounts already existing. A good deal of such
new material it has here been possible to furnish from a collection of
newspapers, prints, songs, &c., that I have been forming for several
years to illustrate the history of the London Gardens.[1]

The information available in the writings of such laborious
topographers as Wilkinson, Pinks, and Nelson is, of course,
indispensable, and has not been here neglected; yet even in the
treatment of old material there seemed room for improvement, at
least in the matter of lucidity of arrangement and chronological
definiteness. For, if the older histories of the London parishes have
a fault, it is, perhaps, that, owing to their authors’ anxiety to omit
nothing, they often read more like _materials_ for history than
history itself. Thus, we find advertisements and newspaper paragraphs
set forth at inordinate length and introduced without being properly
assimilated with the context, and the reader is often left to find his
own way through a mass of confusing and trivial detail.

The principal sources of information consulted are named in the notes
and in a section at the end of each notice, and, wherever practicable,
a list has been added of the most interesting views of the various
gardens. The Introduction contains a brief sketch of some of the main
characteristics of the pleasure resorts described in the volume, and
it is only necessary here to add that even our long list of sixty-four
gardens does not by any means exhaust the outdoor resources of the
eighteenth-century Londoner, who had also his Fairs, and his Parks,
and his arenas for rough sport, like Hockley-in-the-Hole. But these
subjects have already found their chroniclers.

In preparing this work for press I have had the assistance of my
brother, Mr. Arthur E. Wroth, who has, moreover, made a substantial
contribution to the volume by furnishing the accounts of Sadler’s
Wells, White Conduit House, Bagnigge Wells, and Hampstead Wells, and
by compiling ten shorter notices. For the remaining fifty notices, for
the Introduction, and the revision of the whole I am myself responsible.

Although the book has not been hastily prepared, and has been written
for pleasure, I cannot hope that it is free from errors. I trust,
however, that the shortcomings of a work which often breaks new ground
and which deals with many miscellaneous topics will not be harshly
judged.

WARWICK WROTH.

LONDON,
_September, 1896_.

CONTENTS

PAGE
PREFACE v

INTRODUCTION 1

I. CLERKENWELL AND CENTRAL GROUP

ISLINGTON SPA, OR NEW TUNBRIDGE WELLS 15

THE PANTHEON, SPA FIELDS 25

THE LONDON SPA 29

THE NEW WELLS, NEAR THE LONDON SPA 33

THE ENGLISH GROTTO, OR GROTTO GARDEN, ROSOMAN STREET 37

THE MULBERRY GARDEN, CLERKENWELL 40

SADLER’S WELLS 43

MERLIN’S CAVE 54

BAGNIGGE WELLS 56

“LORD COBHAM’S HEAD” 68

“SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE” TAVERN AND GARDENS 70

ST. CHAD’S WELL, BATTLE BRIDGE 72

BOWLING GREEN HOUSE, NEAR THE FOUNDLING HOSPITAL 75

ADAM AND EVE TEA GARDENS, TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD 77

THE PEERLESS POOL 81

THE SHEPHERD AND SHEPHERDESS, CITY ROAD 86

THE SPRING GARDEN, STEPNEY 88

II. MARYLEBONE GROUP

MARYLEBONE GARDENS 93

§ 1. _Origin of Marylebone Gardens_ 93

§ 2. _Marylebone Gardens_, 1738–1763 95

§ 3. _The Gardens under Thomas Lowe_ 101

§ 4. _Later History_, 1768–1778 103

THE QUEEN’S HEAD AND ARTICHOKE 111

THE JEW’S HARP HOUSE AND TEA GARDENS 113

THE YORKSHIRE STINGO 115

BAYSWATER TEA GARDENS 117

III. NORTH LONDON GROUP

PANCRAS WELLS 123

ADAM AND EVE TEA GARDENS, ST. PANCRAS 127

THE ASSEMBLY HOUSE, KENTISH TOWN 129

WHITE CONDUIT HOUSE 131

DOBNEY’S BOWLING GREEN, OR PROSPECT HOUSE 141

BELVIDERE TEA GARDENS, PENTONVILLE ROAD 145

THE CASTLE INN AND TEA GARDENS, COLEBROOKE ROW,
ISLINGTON 147

THREE HATS, ISLINGTON 148

BARLEY MOW TEA HOUSE AND GARDENS, ISLINGTON 153

CANONBURY HOUSE TEA GARDENS 154

COPENHAGEN HOUSE 156

HIGHBURY BARN 161

THE DEVIL’S HOUSE, HOLLOWAY 167

HORNSEY WOOD HOUSE 169

THE SPRING GARDEN, STOKE NEWINGTON 172

THE BLACK QUEEN COFFEE HOUSE AND TEA GARDENS, SHACKLEWELL 173

IV. HAMPSTEAD GROUP

HAMPSTEAD WELLS 177

THE SPANIARDS 184

NEW GEORGIA 187

BELSIZE HOUSE 189

KILBURN WELLS 194

V. CHELSEA GROUP

RANELAGH HOUSE AND GARDENS 199

§ 1. _Origin of Ranelagh_ 199

§ 2. _The Rotunda_ 201

§ 3. _The Entertainments and the Company_ 203

§ 4. _Annals of Ranelagh_, 1742–1769 208

§ 5. _Later History_, 1770–1805 212

STROMBOLO HOUSE AND GARDENS 219

STAR AND GARTER TAVERN AND GARDENS, CHELSEA 220

JENNY’S WHIM, PIMLICO 222

CROMWELL’S GARDENS, AFTERWARDS FLORIDA GARDENS, BROMPTON 225

VI. SOUTH LONDON GROUP

BERMONDSEY SPA GARDENS 231

ST. HELENA GARDENS, ROTHERHITHE 238

FINCH’S GROTTO GARDENS 241

CUPER’S GARDENS 247

“THE FOLLY” ON THE THAMES 258

BELVEDERE HOUSE AND GARDENS, LAMBETH 261

RESTORATION SPRING GARDENS, ST. GEORGE’S FIELDS 263

THE FLORA TEA GARDENS (OR MOUNT GARDENS) WESTMINSTER
BRIDGE ROAD 265

THE TEMPLE OF FLORA 266

APOLLO GARDENS (OR TEMPLE OF APOLLO) 268

DOG AND DUCK, ST. GEORGE’S FIELDS (ST. GEORGE’S SPA) 271

THE BLACK PRINCE, NEWINGTON BUTTS 278

LAMBETH WELLS 279

MARBLE HALL, VAUXHALL 281

THE CUMBERLAND TEA GARDENS, VAUXHALL (SMITH’S TEA GARDENS) 283

VAUXHALL GARDENS 286

§ 1. 1661–1728 286

§ 2. 1732–1767 290

§ 3. 1768–1790 305

§ 4. 1791–1821 311

§ 5. 1822–1859 316

INDEX 327

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

“C. H. Simpson, Esq., M.C.R.G.V.” _Frontispiece_.

(Coloured print published by W. Kidd,
1833; Robert Cruikshank del. W. cp.
_infra_, “Vauxhall Gardens,” pp. 319, 320.)

“A Tea Garden” _To face page_ 6

(G. Morland pinxit; Mlle. Rollet
sc. W.)

Plan showing distribution of the London Pleasure
Gardens „ 12

“Richard Temple, Viscount Cobham” „ 17

(Mezzotint. G. Kneller pinx.; Faber
fecit 1732. W.)

“Vincent Lunardi, Esq.” „ 79

R. Cosway del.; F. Bartolozzi sc., frontispiece
to Lunardi’s _An Account of the First Aërial
Voyage in England_. London, 1784. W.)

“William Defesch” „ 97

(Soldi pinx.; F. Morellon le Cave sc.,
1751. W.)

“Ann Catley” „ 105

(Lawrenson pinx.; Evans sc., published
by Matthews and Leigh, 1807.)

“South-east View of Copenhagen House,”
1783 „ 157

(_See_ Views, Copenhagen House, No. 2.)

The Rotunda at Ranelagh, _circ._ 1751 „ 202

(From the 1754 ed. of Stow’s _Survey_.)

The Chinese House, the Rotunda and the
Company in Masquerade in Renelagh (_sic_)
Gardens” „ 205

(A coloured print, Bowles del. et sc.,
1751. W.)

“St. Helena Tavern and Tea Gardens” „ 239

(_See_ Views, St. Helena Gardens, No. 1.)

“Mrs. Baddely” „ 243

(Mezzotint. Zoffany pinx.; R. Lowrie
sc. [1772]. W.)

“View of the Savoy, Somerset House and the
water entrance to Cuper’s Gardens” „ 249

(_See_ Views, Cuper’s Gardens, No. 1.)

General Prospect of Vauxhall Gardens, 1751 „ 301

(From the 1754 ed. of Stow’s _Survey_.)

The Rotunda (Music Room), Vauxhall, 1752 „ 303

(Printed for Tho. Bowles, 1752. W.)

Admission ticket to the Vauxhall Jubilee Ridotto,
29 May, 1786. With the seal and autograph
of Jonathan Tyers the younger. W. „ 305

“Vauxhall” „ 307

(From Rowlandson’s drawing engraved by
R. Pollard, aquatinted by F. Jukes, 1785.
W. For details, _see_ Grego’s _Rowlandson_,
I. p. 62f. and p. 156f.)

“Vauxhall on a Gala Night” „ 311

(Pugh del.; Rhodes sc., published by
Richard Phillips, 1804.)

“Mrs. Martyr” „ 313

(Engraved by W. Ridley for Parson’s
_Minor Theatre_, 1794.)

Plan of Vauxhall Gardens in 1826 „ 318

(From Allen’s _Lambeth_.)

ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT

PAGE
Islington Spa in 1733 19

(_See_ Views, Islington Spa, No. 2.)

May Day at the London Spa, 1720 31

(_See_ Views, London Spa, No. 2, Brit. Mus. Library.)

A View of the English Grotto near the New River Head,
_circ._ 1760 38

(_See_ p. 37, note 1, No. 1, _infra_. W.)

Sadler’s Wells Anglers, 1796 46

(Woodward del. Cruikshank sc. Coloured print
[W.] “New River Head, Islington,” in Woodward’s
_Eccentric Excursions_, 1796.)

Sadler’s Wells in 1792, and as it was before 1765 49

(_See_ Views, Sadler’s Wells, No. 3.)

Spinacuti’s Monkey at Sadler’s Wells, 1768 51

(“The curious and uncommon performances of a
monkey as they will be introduc’d every evening at
Sadler’s Wells by Signor Spinacuta” (_sic_). Engraved
placard, _circ._ 1768. W.)

“The Bread and Butter Manufactory,” Bagnigge Wells,
1772 59

(_See_ Views, Bagnigge Wells, No. 2, mezzotint. W.)

Frontispiece for the _Sunday Ramble_ 63

(_See_ Views, Bagnigge Wells, No. 5. W.)

“Summer Amusement” 69

(An engraving printed for Bowles and Carver. W.)

Bill of Peerless Pool, _circ._ 1846 83

(_See_ Views, Peerless Pool, No. 3. W.)

Marybone Gardens, 1755–1761 99

(_See_ Views, Marylebone Gardens, No. 2; published
by J. Ryall. W.)

Thomas Lowe 102

(“Mr. Lowe at Sadler’s Wells.--_With early Horn
salute the morn._” Engraving in _The Vocal Magazine_,
1778, song 1091. W.)

Jew’s Harp House, 1794 114

(From a water-colour copied from Crace Coll., _Cat._
p. 569, No. 106.)

The Bayswater Tea Gardens, 1796 118

(_See_ Views, Bayswater Tea Gardens. Coloured
prints. W.)

Bill of Pancras Wells, _circ._ 1730, showing the Wells, and
the “Adam and Eve” tavern, near St. Pancras Church
est end) 125

(Photographed from a drawing in Crace Coll., reproducing
engraved bill of _circ._ 1730: _see_ Views, Pancras
Wells, No. 1.)

White Conduit House 136

(Engraving published 1 May, 1819, by R. Ackermann.)

“A representation of the surprising performances of Mr.
Price” at Dobney’s, _circ._ 1767 142

(_See_ Views, Dobney’s Bowling Green, No. 2.)

Johnson at the Three Hats, 1758 149

(_See_ Views, Three Hats, No. 3. W.)

Highbury Barn in 1792 163

(_See_ Views, Highbury Barn, No. 2. W.)

A view of ye Long Room at Hampsted, 1752 179

(_See_ Views, Hampstead Wells, No. 3.)

South View of The Spaniards, 1750 185

(_See_ Views, The Spaniards, No. 1. W.)

Belsize House and Park 190

(From a water-colour drawing by F. Kornman, after
an eighteenth-century engraving.)

The Attack on Dr. John Hill at Ranelagh, 6 May, 1752 207

(A print published by H. Carpenter, 1752. W.)

Regatta Ball at Ranelagh, 1775 214

(Admission ticket, G. B. Cipriani inv.; F. Bartolozzi
sc. W.)

A West View of Chelsea Bridge, showing Jenny’s Whim,
1761 223

(_See_ Views, Jenny’s Whim, No. 2. W.)

Orchestra and Dancing-platform, St. Helena Gardens, _circ._
1875 239

(_See_ Views, St. Helena Gardens, No. 3.)

Admission ticket, Finch’s Grotto 242

(From Wilkinson’s _Londina Illustrata_.)

Plan of Cuper’s Gardens, 1746 255

(From Wilkinson’s _Londina Illustrata_.)

“The Folly,” before _circ._ 1720 259

(Drawn by F. Anderson (1896) from the engraving
“Somerset House, La Maison de Somerset.” W. _See_
Views, “The Folly,” No. 2.)

“Labour in Vain” (St. George’s Spa in background), 1782 275

(_See_ Views, Dog and Duck, No. 4. W.)

The Black Prince, Newington Butts, 1788 278

(Printed for C. Bowles, 1788. W.)

Waterside entrance to Cumberland Gardens 284

(_See_ Views, Cumberland Gardens.)

Vauxhall ticket by Hogarth (“Amphion”) 291

(From a silver ticket in the British Museum.)

Vauxhall ticket by Hogarth (“Summer”) 294

(From a silver ticket in the British Museum.)

The Citizen at Vauxhall, 1755 297

(A plate in the _Connoisseur_ published by Harrison and
Co., Aug. 12, 1786, illustrating “The Citizen at
Vauxhall” in 1755. W.)

Title-page of a Collection of Hook’s Songs, 1798. W. 309

Charles Dignum 313

(An engraving by Jas. Heath from a painting by
Augs. Callcot, forming frontispiece to _Vocal Music_
... _composed and adapted by Charles Dignum_, London,
1803. W.)

Madame Saqui 315

(An engraving by Alais published 1820. W.)

Darley in the Orchestra at Vauxhall 317

(An engraving, _circ._ 1792. W.)

Admission ticket for Green’s Balloon Ascent, 31 July, 1850 321

(Ticket with Green’s autograph. W.)

Vauxhall in 1850 323

(Doyle’s View from _Punch_, July, 1850.)

“The Farewel to Vaux Hall” 325

(From Bickham’s _Musical Entertainer_, 1733 &c. W.)

THE

LONDON PLEASURE GARDENS

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

THE

LONDON PLEASURE GARDENS

INTRODUCTION

An entry in the diary of Samuel Pepys records how on the 7th of June,
1665, “the hottest day (he says) that ever I felt in my life,” he took
water to the Spring Garden at Foxhall and there stayed, pleasantly
walking, and spending but sixpence, till nine at night. The garden that
he visited was that which formed the nucleus of those Vauxhall Gardens
which, seventy or eighty years later, became the most favoured summer
resort of pleasure-seeking Londoners. Vauxhall with its great concourse
of high and low, its elaborate concerts, its lamps and brightly painted
supper-boxes, is far removed from the simple garden in which Mr. Pepys
delighted to ramble, but not only Vauxhall, but several other pleasure
gardens of the eighteenth century may be traced to comparatively humble
beginnings in the period between the Restoration and the reign of
Anne.[2]

In the early days of these gardens no charge was made for admission,
but a visitor would naturally spend a trifle in cheese-cakes and
syllabubs for the ladies, and would order for himself some bottle-ale
and such substantial viands as were afforded by the tavern or
the master’s dwelling-house attached to the garden. The musical
entertainments that afterwards became a feature of the principal
gardens were originally of little account. The Wells of Lambeth (1697)
and Hampstead (1701) provided a concert of some pretensions, but Mr.
Pepys at the Spring Garden was content with the harmony of a harp, a
fiddle, and a Jew’s trump.

In some places, however, a Long (or Great) Room was at an early period
built for the dancing that generally took place there in the morning
or the afternoon; and booths and raffling-shops were set up for the
benefit of card-players and gamblers. The quiet charm of a garden
was, moreover, sometimes rudely broken by the incursion of gallants
like “young Newport” and Harry Killigrew--“very rogues (says Pepys)
as any in the town.” At last, about 1730–40, the managers of the
principal public gardens found it desirable to make a regular charge
for admission: they requested gentlemen “not to smoak on the walks,”
sternly prohibited the entrance of servants in livery, and, generally,
did their best to exclude improper characters.

The author of the _Sunday Ramble_, a little guide-book of the last
century often quoted in this work, visited, or says that he visited, on
a single Sunday all the best known gardens near town. But it would have
required an abnormally long life and a survey far less hurried to make
acquaintance with all the open-air resorts that flourished during the
whole, or part, of the eighteenth century. Such a long-lived Rambler
who wished to know his gardens at first hand would probably have
visited them (as in this volume we invite the reader to do) in five or
six large groups, paying little heed to what might seem the pedantry of
Parishes and Hundreds.

Beginning in what are now the densely populated districts of
Clerkenwell and central London, he would find himself in the open
fields and in a region abounding in mineral springs. Islington Spa
(1684–1840) and its opposite neighbour Sadler’s Wells (from 1683)
had chalybeate springs that claimed to rival the water (“so mightily
cry’d up”) of Tunbridge Wells in Kent, and if the water itself was
unpalatable, the adjoining pleasure gardens and Long Rooms, with their
gay company, tended to make the drinking of medicinal water both
pleasant and seductive. At no great distance from Sadler’s Wells were
the Wells of Bagnigge (from 1759), the London Spa (from 1685), St.
Chad’s Well, and Pancras Wells (from _circ._ 1697); and a walk to
Old Street would be rewarded by a plunge in the clear waters of the
Peerless Pool, or by a basket of carp and tench caught in the fish pond
close by.

Behind the Foundling Hospital there might be found a bowling green;
at the Mulberry Garden (Clerkenwell) a skittle-ground and an evening
concert; in Rosoman Street, a wonderful grotto and an enchanted
fountain[3] and (at the New Wells, _circ._ 1737–1750), a complete
“variety” entertainment.

Sunday afternoon, if you did not mind the society of prentices and
milliners, might be spent in Spa Fields at the Pantheon tea-house and
garden (1770–1776), or at the Adam and Eve Gardens at Tottenham Court.

Farther west lay the Marylebone Bowling Green and Garden, developed in
1738 into the well-known Marylebone Gardens, and in this neighbourhood
were several humbler places of entertainment, the Jew’s Harp House, The
Queen’s Head and Artichoke, and The Yorkshire Stingo.

Islington and North London were full of rural resorts, the Sunday
haunts of the London “cit” and his family. In Penton Street was the
renowned White Conduit House, and near it Dobney’s Bowling Green, both
visited in early days for their delightful prospects of the distant
country. The Three Hats in Islington attracted visitors who wished to
see the surprising horsemanship of Sampson and of Johnson “the Irish
Tartar.” Canonbury, Highbury, Kentish Town, and Hornsey were pleasant
places farther afield.

Still farther north were Belsize House, with its fashionable gambling
and racing; the popular Wells of Hampstead, and the Kilburn Wells. The
Spaniards, and New Georgia with its maze and mechanical oddities, were
Sunday attractions in Hampstead for the good wives and daughters of
tradesmen like Zachary Treacle.[4]

Chelsea could boast of at least two gardens in addition to the famous
gardens and Rotunda of Ranelagh. In Pimlico was Jenny’s Whim. At
Brompton, the Florida (or Cromwell’s) Gardens, a pleasant place, half
garden, half nursery, where you could gather cherries and strawberries
“fresh every hour in the day.”

London south of the Thames was not less well provided for. Nearly
opposite Somerset House were Cuper’s Gardens (_circ._ 1691–1759).
Lambeth had its wells and its Spring Garden (Vauxhall Gardens). In St.
George’s Fields and Southwark were the mineral springs of the notorious
Dog and Duck; the Restoration Spring Gardens, and Finch’s Grotto
Gardens. Farther east were the Bermondsey Spa, and the St. Helena
Gardens at Rotherhithe.

Such was the geographical distribution of the London pleasure gardens.
“A mighty maze--but not without a plan.” Or, at least a clue to their
intricacies may be found by arranging them in three groups, each with
its distinctive characteristics.

In our first division we may place pleasure resorts of the Vauxhall
type, beginning with the four great London Gardens--Cuper’s Gardens,
the Marylebone Gardens, Ranelagh, and Vauxhall itself. These were
all well-established in popular favour before the middle of the last
century, and all depended for their reputation upon their evening
concerts, their fireworks,[5] and their facilities for eating and
drinking. Ranelagh relied less on the attractions of its gardens
than did the other resorts just mentioned. Here the great Rotunda
overshadowed the garden, and the chief amusement was the promenade
in an “eternal circle” inside the building. Except on gala nights of
masquerades and fireworks, only tea, coffee and bread and butter were
procurable at Ranelagh; and a Frenchman about 1749 hints at more than a
suspicion of dulness in the place when he comments “on s’ennuie avec de
la mauvaise musique, du thé, et du beurre.”

Imitations of the principal gardens were attempted in various parts
of London. Thus the Mulberry Garden (_circ._ 1742), the Sir
John Oldcastle and the Lord Cobham’s Head in Clerkenwell had their
fireworks, and their concerts by local celebrities, described in the
advertisements as a “Band of the best Masters.” Finch’s Grotto Garden
in Southwark (1760–_circ._ 1773), though not a fashionable resort,
was illuminated on certain evenings of the week, and provided very
creditable concerts, in which performers of some repute occasionally
took part. Bermondsey Spa, from about 1784, had, like Vauxhall, its
Grand Walk and coloured lamps, and kept its own poet and musical
composer (Jonas Blewitt, the organist).[6] Two places called the
Temple of Apollo (or Apollo Gardens) and the Temple of Flora, in the
Westminster Bridge Road, also endeavoured to acquire something of
a Vauxhall tone, at least to the extent of having painted boxes,
illuminations and music, and a variety of (imitation) singing-birds.
These Temples were set up late in the eighteenth century, and came to a
bad end.

To a second division belong the gardens connected with mineral springs.
Several of these, as we have already seen, date from the end of the
seventeenth century--Islington Spa, Sadler’s Wells, and the Wells of
Pancras, Hampstead, and Lambeth. The Dog and Duck, Bagnigge Wells, and
other springs did not become well known till the eighteenth century.
Such places were usually day resorts, opening early in the morning and
providing something in the way of breakfasting, dancing, and music. The
waters were advertised, and by many accepted, as Universal Medicines. A
rising of the vapours, a scorbutic humour, an inveterate cancer could
all be cured (as “eminent physicians” constantly testified) by drinking
these unpleasant, but probably harmless, beverages--if possible, on the
spot, or at any rate in bottles sent out by the dozen and stamped with
the proprietor’s seal. Islington Spa became the vogue in 1733 when the
Princess Amelia regularly attended it. The Dog and Duck waters were
recommended to Mrs. Thrale by Dr. Johnson, and many cures vouched for
by a physician attested the efficacy of the purging and chalybeate
Wells of Bagnigge.

But the adventitious attractions of these places had a tendency to
obscure their importance as spas. Bagnigge Wells and, to some extent,
Islington Spa became after a time little more than tea-gardens.
Sadler’s lost sight of its Wells early in the eighteenth century, and
relied for profit on the development of the rope-dancing and pantomime
in its theatre. The Dog and Duck (St. George’s Spa) became at last a
tea-garden and a dancing-saloon which had to be suppressed as the haunt
of “the riff-raff and scum of the town.” Finch’s Grotto and Bermondsey
Spa, on the other hand, when their springs had ceased to attract,
developed (as we have shown) into minor Vauxhalls.

[Illustration: _A tea Garden._]

The third division of the London gardens consists of those that were
mainly tea-gardens. Many of these though small and unpretending
possessed a distinctly rural charm. Such were Highbury Barn, and the
Canonbury House tea-gardens, Hornsey with its romantic wood, and
Copenhagen House standing alone in the hay-fields. Bagnigge Wells
and White Conduit House, the classic tea-gardens of London, were
prettily laid out and pleasantly situated, but in their later days
became decidedly cockneyfied. The great day at these gardens was
Sunday, especially between five and nine o’clock. The amusements were
of a simple kind--a game of bowls or skittles, a ramble in the maze,
and a more or less hilarious tea-drinking in the bowers and alcoves
which every garden provided. In the Long Rooms of Bagnigge Wells,
White Conduit House, and the Pantheon the strains of an organ, if the
magistrates allowed the performance, might also be enjoyed.

The season at most of the London gardens began in April or May, and
lasted till August or September. The principal gardens were open during
the week (not, regularly, on Sundays) on three or more days, and those
of the Vauxhall type were usually evening resorts. Much depended, it
need hardly be said, upon the state of the weather, and sometimes the
opening for the season had to be postponed. When the rain came, the
fireworks were hopelessly soaked and people took refuge as they could
under an awning or a colonnade or in a Great Room. A writer in _The
Connoisseur_ of 1755 (May 15th) only too justly remarks that our
Northern climate will hardly allow us to indulge in the pleasures of a
garden so feelingly described by the poets: “We dare not lay ourselves
on the damp ground in shady groves or by the purling stream,” unless
at least “we fortify our insides against the cold by good substantial
eating and drinking. For this reason the extreme costliness of the
provisions at our public gardens has been grievously complained of by
those gentry to whom a supper at these places is as necessary a part of
the entertainment as the singing or the fireworks.” More than seventy
years later Tom Moore (_Diary_, August 21st, 1829) describes
the misery of a wet and chilly August night at Vauxhall--the gardens
illuminated but empty, and the proprietor comparing the scene to the
deserts of Arabia. On this occasion, Moore and his friends supped
between twelve and one, and had some burnt port to warm themselves.

The charge for admission at Vauxhall, Marylebone Gardens, and Cuper’s
was generally not less than a shilling. Ranelagh charged half-a-crown,
but this payment always included “the elegant regale” of tea, coffee,
and bread and butter. The proprietors of the various Wells made a
regular charge of threepence or more for drinking the water at the
springs and pump rooms. At some of the smaller gardens a charge of
sixpence or a shilling might be made for admission, but the visitor on
entering was presented with a metal check which enabled him to recover
the whole or part of his outlay in the form of refreshments.

Vauxhall, Marylebone, Cuper’s, and Ranelagh often numbered among
their frequenters people of rank and fashion, who subscribed for
season-tickets, but (with the possible exception of Ranelagh) were by
no means exclusive or select. The Tea-gardens, and, as a rule, the
Wells, had an aristocracy of aldermen and merchants, young ensigns and
templars, and were the chosen resorts of the prentice, the sempstress,
and the small shop-keeper.

The proprietors of gardens open in the evening found it necessary to
provide (or to announce that they provided) for the safe convoy of
their visitors after nightfall. Sadler’s Wells advertised “it will be
moonlight,” and provided horse patrols to the West End and the City.
The proprietor of Belsize House, Hampstead, professed to maintain
a body of thirty stout fellows “to patrol timid females or other.”
Vauxhall--in its early days usually approached by water--seems to
have been regarded as safe, but Ranelagh and the Marylebone Gardens
maintained regular escorts.

In the principal gardens, watchmen and “vigilant officers” were always
supposed to be in attendance to keep order and to exclude undesirable
visitors. Unsparing denunciation of the morals of the chief gardens,
such as is found in the lofty pages of Noorthouck, must, I am
inclined to think, be regarded as rhetorical, and to a great extent
unwarranted. On the other hand, one can hardly accept without a smile
the statement of a Vauxhall guide-book of 1753, that “even Bishops
have been seen in this Recess without injuring their character,” for
it cannot be denied that the vigilant officers had enough to do. There
were sometimes scenes and affrays in the gardens, and Vauxhall and
Cuper’s were favourite hunting-grounds of the London pickpocket. At
the opening Ridotto at Vauxhall (1732) a man stole fifty guineas from
a masquerader, but here the watchman was equal to the occasion, and
“the rogue was taken in the fact.” At Cuper’s on a firework night a
pickpocket or two might be caught, but it was ten to one that they
would be rescued on their way to justice by their confederates in St.
George’s Fields.

The dubious character of some of the female frequenters of the best
known gardens has been necessarily indicated in our detailed accounts
of these gardens, though always, it is hoped, in a way not likely to
cause offence. The best surety for good conduct at a public garden
was, after all, the character of the great mass of its frequenters,
and it is obvious that they were decent people enough, however wanting
in graces of good-breeding and refinement. Moreover, from the end of
the year 1752, when the Act was passed requiring London gardens and
other places where music and dancing took place to be under a license,
it was generally the interest of the proprietor to preserve good order
for fear of sharing the fate of Cuper’s, which was unable to obtain a
renewal of its license after 1752, and had to be carried on as a mere
tea-garden. The only places, perhaps, at which disreputable visitors
were distinctly welcome were those garish evening haunts in St.
George’s Fields, the Dog and Duck, the Temples of Flora and Apollo and
the Flora Tea-Gardens. All these were suppressed or lost their license
before the end of the eighteenth century.

Of the more important gardens, Marylebone and Cuper’s ceased to exist
before the close of the last century. Ranelagh survived till 1803 and
Vauxhall till 1859. Finch’s Grotto practically came to an end about
1773 and Bermondsey Spa about 1804. Many of the eighteenth-century
tea-gardens lasted almost to our own time, but the original character
of such places as Bagnigge Wells (closed 1841), White Conduit House
(closed 1849), and Highbury Barn (closed 1871) was greatly altered.

During the first thirty or forty years of the nineteenth century
numerous gardens, large and small, were flourishing in or near London.
Some of these, like Bagnigge Wells, had been well-known gardens in the
eighteenth century, while the origin of others, such as Chalk Farm,
Camberwell Grove House, the Rosemary Branch Gardens at Islington,
or rather Hoxton, the Mermaid Gardens, Hackney, and the Montpelier
Gardens, Walworth, may be probably, or certainly, traced to the last
century. These last-mentioned places, however, had little or no
importance as public gardens till the nineteenth century, and have not
been described in the present work.

Many new gardens came into existence, and of these the best known are
the Surrey Zoological Gardens (1831–1856); Rosherville (established
1837); Cremorne (_circ._ 1843–1877); and the Eagle Tavern and
Gardens (_circ._ 1825–1882), occupying the quiet domain of the old
Shepherd and Shepherdess.

The sale of Vauxhall Gardens in August 1859, or perhaps the closing of
Highbury Barn in 1871, may be held to mark the final disappearance of
the London Pleasure Gardens of the eighteenth century. “St. George’s
Fields are fields no more!” and hardly a tree or shrub recalls these
vanished pleasances of our forefathers. The site of Ranelagh is still,
indeed, a garden, and Hampstead has its spring and Well Walk. But the
Sadler’s Wells of 1765 exists only in its theatre, and its gardens
are gone, its spring forgotten, and its New River covered in. The
public-house, which in London dies hard, has occupied the site, and
preserved the name of several eighteenth-century gardens, including the
London Spa, Bagnigge Wells, White Conduit House and the Adam and Eve,
Tottenham Court, but the gardens themselves have been completely swept
away.

Vauxhall, Belsize House, and the Spa Fields Pantheon, none of them in
their day examples of austere morality, are now represented by three
churches. From the Marylebone Gardens, the Marylebone Music Hall may
be said to have been evolved. Pancras Wells are lost in the extended
terminus of the Midland Railway, and the Waterloo Road runs over the
centre of Cuper’s Gardens. Finch’s Grotto, after having been a burial
ground and a workhouse, is now the headquarters of our London Fire
Brigade. Copenhagen House with its fields is the great Metropolitan
Cattle Market. The Three Hats is a bank; Dobney’s Bowling Green, a
small court; the Temple of Apollo, an engineer’s factory, and the sign
of the Dog and Duck is built into the walls of Bedlam.

[Illustration: _PLAN_

_showing distribution of the_

_London Pleasure Gardens._]

CLERKENWELL AND CENTRAL GROUP

ISLINGTON SPA, OR NEW TUNBRIDGE WELLS

A poetical advertisement of the year 1684[7] refers to “the sweet
gardens and arbours of pleasure” at this once famous resort, situated
opposite the New River Head, Clerkenwell. The chalybeate spring in
its grounds was discovered at or shortly before that date, and the
proprietor in 1685 is described in the _London Gazette_[8] as
“Mr. John Langley, of London, merchant, who bought the rhinoceros and
Islington Wells.”

The original name of the Spa was Islington Wells, but it soon acquired
(at least as early as 1690) the additional title of New Tunbridge, or
New Tunbridge Wells, by which it was generally known until about 1754,
when the name of Islington Spa came into use, though the old title, New
Tunbridge, was never quite abandoned.[9]

Although the place could not at any period boast of the musical and
“variety” entertainments of its neighbour Sadler’s Wells, it soon
acquired greater celebrity as a Spa, and from about 1690 to 1700 was
much frequented. The gardens at this period[10] were shaded with limes
and provided with arbours; and, in addition to its coffee-house, the
Spa possessed a dancing-room and a raffling shop.[11] The charge for
drinking the water was threepence, and the garden was open on two or
three days in the week from April or May till August.

As early as seven o’clock in the morning a few valetudinarians might be
found at the Well, but most of the visitors did not arrive till two or
three hours later. Between ten and eleven the garden was filled with a
gay and, in outward seeming, fashionable throng. The company, however,
was extraordinarily mixed. Virtue and Vice; Fashion and the negation
of Fashion had all their representatives. Sir Courtly Nice drove up to
the gate in his gilt coach, and old Sir Fumble brought his lady and
daughter. Modish sparks and fashionable ladies, good wives and their
children, mingled with low women and sempstresses in tawdry finery;
with lawyers’ clerks, and pert shopmen; with sharpers, bullies, and
decoys. A doctor attended at the Well to give advice to the drinkers,
not a few of whom came for the serious purpose of benefiting their
health.

[Illustration: _Richard Temple_

[Illustration]

_Viscount Cobham, &c._

Walker & Equtall Ph Sc]

But the chief attraction was the Walks; the promenade where the beau
strutted with his long sword beribboned with scarlet, and ladies
fragrant with Powder of Orange and Jessamine discussed one another
and the fashions:--

Lord! madam, did you e’er behold
(Says one) a dress so very old?
Sure that commode was made, i’ faith,
In days of Queen Elizabeth;
Or else it was esteemed the fashion
At Charles the Second’s coronation:
The lady, by her mantua’s forebody,
Sure takes a pride to dress like nobody.[12]

Others of more plebeian estate preferred the seclusion of an arbour
shaded with climbing shrubs and sycamore, where sweethearts could chat,
or, if so minded, enjoy a late breakfast of plum-cake and ale. Older
people retired to the coffee-house to smoke and talk politics over
their coffee, but the man about town and his female friends were to be
found deep at play in the raffling shop, or speculating in the Royal
Oak Lottery.[13] Again and again it was the _Board_ that won,
while the projector and the man with cogged dice in his pocket looked
cynically on. At about eleven a.m. the dancing began. Music for dancing
all day long was advertised in 1700 for every Monday and Thursday of
the summer season. But the music of that period seems to have been only
the harmony of three or four by no means accomplished fiddlers, and
it is doubtful if the dancing ever continued beyond the morning and
afternoon.

In the early years of the eighteenth century the Spa seems to have gone
out of fashion,[14] and in 1714 _The Field Spy_ speaks of it as a
deserted place:--

The ancient drooping trees unprun’d appear’d;
No ladies to be seen; no fiddles heard.

The patronage of royal personages at last revived its fortunes. In
the months of May and June 1733, the Princess Amelia, daughter of
George II., and her sister Caroline came regularly to drink the
waters. On some occasions the princesses were saluted by a discharge
of twenty-one guns, and the gardens were thronged. On one morning the
proprietor took £30, and sixteen hundred people are said to have been
present. New Tunbridge Wells once more, for a few years, became the
vogue. Pinchbeck, the toyman, prepared a view of the gardens which he
sold as a mount for his fans. A song of the time, _The Charms of
Dishabille_, which George Bickham illustrated with another view of
the gardens, gives a picture of the scene (1733–1738):--

Behold the Walks, a chequer’d shade,
In the gay pride of green array’d;
How bright the sun! the air how still!
In wild confusion there we view
Red ribbons grouped with aprons blue;
Scrapes, curtsies, nods, winks, smiles and frowns,
Lords, milkmaids, duchesses and clowns,
In their all-various dishabille.

The same mixed company thus frequented the Spa as of old, and when my
Lord Cobham honoured the garden with a visit, there were light-fingered
knaves at hand to relieve him of his gold repeater. The physician who
at this time attended at the Well was “Dr.” Misaubin, famous for his
pills, and for his design to ruin the University of Cambridge (which
had refused him a doctor’s degree) by sending his son to the University
of Oxford. Among the habitués of the garden was an eccentric person
named Martin, known as the Tunbridge Knight. He wore a yellow cockade
and carried a hawk on his fist, which he named Royal Jack, out of
respect to the Royal Family.

[Illustration: ISLINGTON SPA IN 1733. BY GEORGE BICKHAM.]

Fashion probably soon again deserted the Spa; but from about 1750 to
1770 it was a good deal frequented by water-drinkers and visitors who
lodged for a time at the Wells. One young lady of good family, who
was on a visit to London in June 1753, wrote home to her friends[15]
that New Tunbridge Wells was “a very pretty Romantick place,” and
the water “very much like Bath water, but makes one vastly cold and
Hungary.” A ticket costing eighteenpence gave admission to the public
breakfasting[16] and to the dancing from eleven to three. It was
endeavoured to preserve the most perfect decorum, and no person of
exceptionable character was to be admitted to the ball-room.[17] This
invitation to the dance reads oddly at a time when the Spa was being
industriously recommended to the gouty, the nervous, the weak-kneed,
and the stiff-jointed.[18]

In 1770 the Spa was taken by Mr. John Holland, and from that year, or
somewhat earlier, the place was popular as an afternoon tea-garden.
The “Sunday Rambler” describes it as genteel, but judging from George
Colman’s farce, _The Spleen; or Islington Spa_ (first acted in
1776), its gentility was that of publicans and tradesmen. “The Spa
(says Mrs. Rubrick) grows as genteel as Tunbridge, Brighthelmstone,
Southampton or Margate. Live in the most social way upon earth: all
the company acquainted with each other. Walks, balls, raffles and
subscriptions. Mrs. Jenkins of the Three Blue Balls, Mrs. Rummer and
family from the King’s Arms; and several other people of condition, to
be there this season! And then Eliza’s wedding, you know, was owing to
the Spa. Oh, the watering-places are the only places to get young women
lovers and husbands!”

In 1777, Holland became bankrupt, and next year a Mr. John Howard
opened the gardens in the morning and afternoon, charging the
water-drinkers sixpence or threepence, or a guinea subscription. He
enriched the place with a bowling-green[19] and with a series of
“astronomical lectures in Lent, accompanied by an orrery.” A band
played in the morning, and the afternoon tea-drinking sometimes (1784)
took place to the accompaniment of French horns.[20] Sir John Hawkins,
the author of _The History of Music_, frequented the Spa for his
health in 1789. On returning home after drinking the water one day in
May (Wednesday 20th, 1789) he complained of a pain in his head and died
the next morning of a fever in the brain. “Whether (as a journalist of
the time observes) it was owing to the mineral spring being taken when
the blood was in an improper state to receive its salubrious effect, or
whether it was the sudden visitation of Providence, the sight of the
human mind is incompetent to discover.”

The Spa continued to be resorted to till the beginning of the
present century when the water and tea-drinking began to lose their
attractions. The author of _Londinium redivivum_, writing about
1803,[21] speaks, however, of the gardens with enthusiasm as “really
very beautiful, particularly at the entrance. Pedestals and vases
are grouped with taste under some extremely picturesque trees, whose
foliage (is) seen to much advantage from the neighbouring fields.” At
last, about 1810, the proprietor, Howard, pulled down the greater part
of the old coffee-house,[22] and the gardens were curtailed by the
formation of Charlotte Street (now Thomas Street). At the same time the
old entrance to the gardens, facing the New River Head, was removed
for the building of Eliza Place.[23] A new entrance was then made in
Lloyd’s Row, and the proprietor lived in a house adjoining. A later
proprietor, named Hardy, opened the gardens in 1826 as a Spa only. The
old Well was enclosed, as formerly, by grotto work and the garden walks
were still pleasant. Finally in 1840, the two rows of houses called Spa
Cottages were built upon the site of the gardens.

A surgeon named Molloy, who resided about 1840–1842 in the proprietor’s
house in Lloyd’s Row, preserved the Well, and by printed circulars
invited invalids to drink the water for an annual subscription of one
guinea, or for sixpence each visit. In Molloy’s time the Well was
contained in an outbuilding attached to the east side of his house.
The water was not advertised after his tenancy, though it continued to
flow as late as 1860. In the autumn of 1894, the writers of this volume
visited the house and found the outbuilding occupied as a dwelling-room
of a very humble description. Standing in this place it was impossible
to realise that we were within a few feet of the famous Well. A door,
which we had imagined on entering to be the door of a cupboard, proved
to be the entrance to a small cellar two or three steps below the level
of the room. Here, indeed, we found the remains of the grotto that had
once adorned the Well, but the healing spring no longer flowed.[24]

Eliza Place was swept away for the formation of Rosebery Avenue, and
the two northernmost plots of the three little public gardens, opened
by the London County Council on 31 July, 1895,[25] as Spa Green, are
now on part of the site of the old Spa. The Spa Cottages still remain,
as well as the proprietor’s house in Lloyd’s Row, and beneath the
coping-stone of the last-named the passer-by may read the inscription
cut in bold letters: ISLINGTON SPA OR NEW TUNBRIDGE WELLS.

[Besides the authorities cited in the text and notes and in
the account in Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_, p. 398, ff., the
following may be mentioned:--_Experimental observations on
the water of the mineral spring near Islington commonly called
New Tunbridge Wells._ London, 1751, 8vo; another ed., 1773,
8vo (the Brit. Mus. copy of the latter contains some newspaper
cuttings); Dodsley’s _London_, 1761, s.v. “Islington”;
Kearsley’s _Strangers’ Guide_, s.v. “Islington”; Lewis’s
_Islington_; _Gent. Mag._ 1813, pt. 2, p. 554, ff.;
advertisements, &c., in Percival’s Sadler’s Wells Collection and
in W. Coll.; Wheatley’s _London_, ii. 268, and iii. p. 199.]

VIEWS.

1. View of the gardens, coffee-house, &c., engraved
frontispiece to Lockman’s poem, _The Humours of New Tunbridge
Wells at Islington_, London, 1734, 8vo (cp. Pinks, 401, note,
and 402).

2. View of the gardens, well, coffee-house, &c., engraved by G.
Bickham, jun., as the headpiece of “The Charms of Dishabille
or New Tunbridge Wells” (Bickham’s _Musical Entertainer_,
1733, &c., vol. i. No. 42).

3. Engravings of the proprietor’s house in Lloyd’s Row;
Cromwell’s _Clerkenwell_, 352; Pinks, 405. The house is
still as there represented.

THE PANTHEON, SPA FIELDS

The Spa Fields Pantheon stood on the south side of the present Exmouth
Street, and occupied the site of the Ducking Pond House,[26] a wayside
inn, with a pond in the rear used for the sport of duck-hunting.

The Ducking Pond premises having been acquired by Rosoman of Sadler’s
Wells, were by him sub-let to William Craven, a publican, who, at a
cost of £6,000, laid out a garden and erected on the site of the old
inn a great tea-house called the Pantheon, or sometimes the Little
Pantheon, when it was necessary to distinguish it from “the stately
Pantheon” in Oxford Street, built in 1770–1771, and first opened in
January 1772.[27]

The Spa Fields Pantheon was opened to the public early in 1770, and
consisted of a large Rotunda, with two galleries running round the
whole of the interior, and a large stove in the centre.

The place was principally resorted to by apprentices and small
tradesmen, and on the afternoon and evening of Sunday, the day when
it was chiefly frequented, hundreds of gaily-dressed people were to
be found in the Rotunda, listening to the organ,[28] and regaling
themselves with tea, coffee and negus, or with supplies of punch and
red port. A nearer examination of this crowded assembly showed that it
consisted of journeymen tailors, hairdressers, milliners and servant
maids, whose behaviour, though boisterous, may have been sufficiently
harmless.

The proprietor endeavoured to secure the strict maintenance of order by
selling nothing after ten o’clock in the evening. But his efforts, it
would seem, were not entirely successful. “Speculator,” a correspondent
of the _St. James’s Chronicle_, who visited the place in May 1772,
“after coming from church,” looked down from his vantage-ground in
one of the galleries upon what he describes as a dissipated scene. To
his observation the ladies constituted by far the greater part of the
assembly, and he was shocked more than once by the request, “Pray, Sir,
will you treat me with a dish of tea?”

A tavern with tea-rooms for more select parties stood on the east of
the Rotunda. Behind the buildings was a pretty garden, with walks,
shrubs and fruit trees. There was a pond or canal stocked with fish,
and near it neat boxes and alcoves for the tea-drinkers. Seats were
dispersed about the garden, the attractions of which were completed by
a summer-house up a handsome flight of stone steps, and a statue of
Hercules, with his club, on a high pedestal. The extent of the garden
was about four acres.

A writer in the _Town and Country Magazine_ for April 1770 (p.
195), speaks contemptuously of the canal “as about the size of a
butcher’s tray, where citizens of _quality_ and their spouses
come on Sunday to view the amorous flutterings of a duck and drake.”
This, however, is the opinion of a fashionable gentleman who goes
alternately to Almack’s and Cornelys’s, while Ranelagh (he says)
“affords me great relief.”

The career of the Pantheon was brief; for in March 1774 the building
and its grounds were announced for sale on account of Craven’s
bankruptcy. According to the statement of the auctioneer the place was
then in full trade, and the returns almost incredible, upwards of one
thousand persons having sometimes been accommodated in the Rotunda.
It is uncertain if another proprietor tried his hand, if so he was
probably unsuccessful, for the Pantheon was certainly closed as a place
of amusement in 1776.

In July 1777 the Rotunda, after having been used for a time as a depot
for the sale of carriages, was opened for services of the Church of
England under the name of Northampton Chapel. One of the preachers,
moralising on the profane antecedents of the place, adopted the text,
“And he called the name of that place Bethel, but the name of that city
was called Luz at the first.”

The building was afterwards purchased by the Countess of Huntingdon,
and opened in March 1779 under the name of Spa Fields Chapel as a
place of worship in her connexion. Various alterations were at that
time, and subsequently, made in the building, and a statue of Fame,
sounding a trumpet, which had stood outside the Pantheon on the
lantern surmounting the cupola was removed. The tavern belonging to
the Pantheon, on the east side of the Rotunda, was occupied by Lady
Huntingdon as her residence. It was a large house partly covered by
branches of jessamine.

The gardens, in the rear of the Rotunda, were converted in 1777 into
the Spa Fields burial-ground, which became notorious in 1843 for its
over-crowded and pestilential condition, and for some repulsive
disclosures as to the systematic exhumation of bodies in order to make
room for fresh interments.

Spa Fields Chapel was pulled down in the beginning of 1887, and the
present church of the Holy Redeemer was erected on its site, and
consecrated for services of the Church of England on 13 October, 1888.
Such have been the strange vicissitudes of the Pantheon tea-house and
its gardens.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_; Walford, _O. and N. London_; _The Sunday
Ramble_; Tomlins’s _Perambulation of Islington_, p. 158; _Notes
and Queries_, 1st ser. ii. p. 404; _Spa Fields Chapel and its
Associations_, London, 1884.]

VIEWS.

1. View of Northampton or Spa Fields Chapel, with the Countess
of Huntingdon’s house adjoining. Hamilton, del., Thornton
sculp., 1783. Crace, _Cat._ p. 589, No. 43.

2. Exterior of Chapel and Lady Huntingdon’s house, engraving in
Britton’s _Picture of London_, 1829, p. 120.

3. Later views of the Chapel (interior and exterior) engraved in
Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_, pp. 146, 147.

THE LONDON SPA

The London Spa public-house, standing at the corner of Rosoman Street
and Exmouth Street, marks the site of a seventeenth-century inn called
The Fountain.

A spring of chalybeate water was discovered on the premises of this
inn about 1685, and was a special inducement held out to the public by
the proprietor, John Halhed, vintner, to visit his house. In August
1685, Halhed, in advertising the virtues of the water, stated that no
less an authority than Robert Boyle, the chemist, had adjudged and
openly declared it to be the strongest and very best of these late
found out medicinal waters. The honest vintner, in giving other local
wells their due, maintained that his was equivalent, if not better,
in virtue, goodness, and operation, to that of Tunbridge (so mightily
cry’d up) or any other water yet known. On 14 July, 1685, the house
was solemnly nominated and called the London Spaw, by Robert Boyle, in
the presence of “an eminent, knowing, and more than ordinary ingenious
apothecary ... besides the said John Halhed and other sufficient men.”
The name of the Fountain seems thenceforth to have been superseded by
that of the London Spa. In inviting persons of quality to make a trial
of the spring, Halhed expressed the wish that the greatness of his
accommodation were suitable to the goodness of his waters, although he
was not without convenient apartments and walks for both sexes. The
poor were to be supplied with the water gratis.

For a few years subsequent to 1714 the place appears to have fallen
into neglect; but it afterwards was once more frequented, and in 1720
the author of _May Day_[29] writes:--

Now nine-pin alleys, and now skettles grace,
The late forlorn, sad, desolated place;
Arbours of jasmine fragrant shades compose
And numerous blended companies enclose.

On May-day the milkmaids and their swains danced in the gardens to the
music of the fiddler. Holiday folk flocked to test the virtues of the
spring, and from this time onwards, the London Spa enjoyed some degree
of popularity. In the summer of 1733, _Poor Robin’s Almanack_
records how--

Sweethearts with their sweethearts go
To Islington or London Spaw;
Some go but just to drink the water,
Some for the ale which they like better.

The annual Welsh fair, held in the Spa Field hard by, must have brought
additional custom to the tavern, and in 1754 the proprietor, George
Dodswell, informed the public that they would meet with the most
inviting usage at his hands, and that during the fair there would be
the “usual entertainment of roast pork with the oft-famed flavoured
Spaw ale.” From this date onwards the London Spa would appear to have
been merely frequented as a tavern.[30] The present public-house was
built on the old site in 1835.

[Illustration: MAY DAY AT THE LONDON SPA. 1720.]

[The London Spaw, an advertisement, August 1685, folio sheet in
British Museum; Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_.]

VIEWS.

1. A view of the London Spa in Lempriere’s set of views,
1731; Crace, _Cat._ p. 588, No. 41. Cp. Pinks’s
_Clerkenwell_, p. 168.

2. Engraving of the Spa garden, T. Badeslade, inv.; S.
Parker, sculp.; frontispiece to _May Day, or the Origin of
Garlands_, 1720.

THE NEW WELLS, NEAR THE LONDON SPA

Houses in Lower Rosoman Street,[31] Clerkenwell, west side, about one
hundred yards from the London Spaw public-house, now occupy the site of
this place of amusement.

The New Wells commanded a pleasant prospect of the fields and country
beyond; but nothing is known of the medicinal waters, and the prominent
feature of the place was a theatre, probably intended to rival Sadler’s
Wells, in which entertainments, consisting of dancing, tumbling,
music and pantomime were given from 1737 (or earlier[32]) till 1750.
The purchase of a pint of wine or punch was generally the passport
necessary for admission, and the gardens were open on Sunday as well as
on week-day evenings. The entertainments usually began at five o’clock,
and concluded about ten. In 1738, there were comic songs and dancing,
an exhibition of views of Vauxhall, and a whimsical, chymical and
pantomimical entertainment called the _Sequel_.

During the next year (1739) similar entertainments were given, and
Mr. Blogg sang the “Early Horn,” and “Mad Tom” with a preamble on the
kettledrums by Mr. Baker. At this time the place possessed a kind of
Zoological Gardens, for there was then to be seen a fine collection of
large rattlesnakes, one having nineteen rattles and “seven young ones,”
a young crocodile imported from Georgia, American darting and flying
squirrels, “which may be handled as any of our own,” and a cat between
the tiger and leopard, perfectly tame, and one of the most beautiful
creatures that ever was in England. This show could be seen for a
shilling.

In 1740 a Merlin’s Cave was added to the attractions of the gardens
(cp. “Merlin’s Cave,” _infra_), and there was displayed a firework
representation of the siege of Portobello by Admiral Vernon. On 3
July, 1742,[33] Monsieur and Madame Brila from Paris and their little
son, three years old, exhibited several curiosities of balancing, and
the two Miss Rayners, rope-dancing. There were songs and dancing; a
hornpipe by Mr. Jones of Bath, who played the fiddle as he danced,
and an exhibition of views of the newly opened Rotunda at Ranelagh.
In June 1744 there was a pantomime, _The Sorceress, or Harlequin
Savoyard_; the part of Harlequin being sustained by Mr. Rosoman. A
dance of Indians in character concluded an entertainment witnessed by a
crowded and “polite” audience of over seven hundred persons. In August
of the same year a Mr. Dominique jumped over the heads of twenty-four
men with drawn swords; Madam Kerman performed on the tight-rope, danced
on stilts, and (according to the advertisements) jumped over a garter
ten feet high.

Next came to the Wells (1745) a youthful giant seven feet four inches
high, though under sixteen years of age, who occasionally exhibited his
proportions on the rope. In 1746 there appeared a Saxon Lady Giantess
seven feet high, and the wonderful little Polander, a dwarf two feet
ten inches in height, of the mature age of sixty, “in every way
proportionable, and wears his beard after his own country’s fashion.”
During this year Miss Rayner performed the feat of walking up an
inclined rope, one hundred yards long, extending from the stage to the
upper gallery, having two lighted flambeaux in her hands.

The same year (1746) witnessed the celebration at Sadler’s Wells and
other places of entertainment in London of the victory of the Duke of
Cumberland at Culloden. At the New Wells were given representations
of the battle, and the storming of Culloden House. Mr. Yeates[34] (or
Yates), the manager at this time, in acknowledging his gratification
at the applause manifested, regretted that on the appearance of
Courage (the character symbolising the Duke of Cumberland) several
hearty Britons exerted their canes in such a torrent of satisfaction
as to cause considerable damage to his benches. About this period
Mrs. Charlotte Charke (the youngest daughter of Colley Cibber the
dramatist) appeared at the Wells as Mercury in the play of _Jupiter
and Alcmena_.

From 1747 to 1750 the theatre and gardens remained closed, but after
having been considerably improved they were re-opened on 16 April,
1750. Towards the close of this year, Hannah Snell made her appearance
and went through a number of military exercises in her regimentals.
This warlike lady, who had served under the name of James Gray as a
marine at the siege of Pondicherry, and who had been several times
wounded in action, was one of the first party that forded the river,
breast high, under the enemy’s fire. She worked laboriously in the
trenches, and performed picket duty for seven nights in succession.

The entertainments at the New Wells appear to have ceased about 1750.
In 1752 the proprietor, Yeates, let the theatre to the Rev. John
Wesley, and in May of that year, it was converted into a Methodist
tabernacle. A few years later the theatre was removed, probably in
1756, when Rosoman Row (now Rosoman Street) was formed.

[Cromwell’s _Clerkenwell_, p. 254; Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_;
newspaper advertisements, W. Coll.].

THE ENGLISH GROTTO, OR GROTTO GARDEN, ROSOMAN STREET

The English Grotto was in existence in 1760, and is described as
standing in the fields, near the New River Head. A view of that
date[35] represents it as a small wooden building resembling the London
Spa. A flag is flying from the roof, and some well-dressed people are
seen walking near it. A garden, with a curious grotto and water-works,
were probably its only attractions.

It may be conjectured that this English Grotto is identical with
the Grotto Garden in Rosoman Street, which was kept in (or before)
1769[36] by a man named Jackson, a successful constructor of grottoes,
and contrivances of water-works. In 1769 he advertised the place
as his Grand Grotto Garden, and gold and silver fish Repository.
In the garden was a wonderful grotto; an enchanted fountain; and
a water-mill, invented by the proprietor, which when set to work
represented fireworks, and formed a beautiful rainbow. A variety of
gold and silver fish, “which afford pleasing ideas to every spectator”
might be purchased at this repository. Sixpence was sometimes charged
for admission, and a number of people are said to have resorted there
daily. The place was still in Jackson’s possession in 1780.

[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE ENGLISH GROTTO NEAR THE NEW RIVER
HEAD.

_Circ._ 1760.]

The house and Grotto Garden were at the north-east corner of Lower
Rosoman Street (originally Rosoman Row), almost facing the London Spa.
About 1800 the house, or its later representative, was No. 35, Lower
Rosoman Street, and in its garden were some remains of the wonderful
grotto. From the windows there was still a pleasing prospect of the
country for many miles. In this house Mr. Pickburn, the printer, first
published _The Clerkenwell News_ in 1855, and continued to print
the newspaper there until 1862.

[For authorities and views, see notes.]

THE MULBERRY GARDEN, CLERKENWELL

The Mulberry Garden in Clerkenwell, the site of which was afterwards
occupied by the House of Detention, was open in 1742, but contrary
to the usual practice, the proprietor (W. Body) made no charge for
admission, relying for profit on the sale of refreshments.

It was a somewhat extensive garden with a large pond, gravelled walks,
and avenues of trees. From the seats placed beneath the shade of a
great mulberry tree, probably one of those introduced into England
in the reign of James I., the players in the skittle-alley might
often be watched at their game. The garden was open from 6 p.m. in
the spring and summer, and, especially between 1742 and 1745, was
advertised in the newspapers with extravagant eulogy. “Rockhoutt[37]
(the proprietor declared) has found one day and night’s Al Fresco in
the week to be inconvenient; Ranelagh House, supported by a giant
whose legs will scarcely support him[38]; Mary le Bon Gardens, down
on their marrow-bones; New wells[39] at low water; at Cuper’s[40]
the fire almost out.” The attractions offered were a band of wind
and string instruments in an orchestra in the garden and occasional
displays of fireworks and illuminations. The proprietor professed (6
April, 1743) to engage British musicians only, maintaining that “the
manly vigour of our own native music is more suitable to the ear and
heart of a Briton than the effeminate softness of the Italian.” On
cold evenings the band performed in the long room. On 2 September,
1742, the proprietor excused himself from a pyrotechnic display on the
ground that it was the doleful commemoration of the Fire of London. On
9 August, 1744, there was a special display of fireworks helped out by
the instrumental music of the “celebrated Mr. Bennet.” At this fête
“honest Jo Baker” beat a Trevally on his side drum as he did before the
great Duke of Marlborough when he defeated the French at the Battle of
Malplaquet. This entertainment must have been popular, for beyond the
sixteen hundred visitors who were able to gain admission, some five
hundred others are said to have been turned away. On 25 August, in the
same year, another firework display was given, and on this occasion
the proprietor condescended to make a charge of twopence per head for
admission.

The gardens do not appear to have been advertised between 1745 and
1752, during which period they were probably kept by a Mrs. Bray, who
died on 1 March, 1752, “with an excellent good character.” Beyond this,
her obituary only records that she “is thought to have been one of the
fattest women in London.” In 1752 the gardens were in the hands of
Clanfield, the firework engineer of Cuper’s Gardens, who every summer
evening provided vocal and instrumental music, from six o’clock, and
fireworks at nine.[41] The admission was sixpence with a return of
threepence in refreshments.

Fashionable gentlemen appear to have played an occasional game of
ninepins or skittles in the Mulberry Garden, but on the whole the place
enjoyed only a local celebrity among tradesmen and artisans, and its
proprietor, in elegant language,[42] made his appeal to “the honest
Sons of trade and industry after the fatigues of a well-spent day,” and
invited the Lover and the jolly Bacchanalian to sit beneath the verdant
branches in his garden.

Nothing is known of the garden subsequent to 1752. The site was used
about 1797 as the exercising ground of the Clerkenwell Association of
Volunteers, and the House of Detention (now replaced by a Board School)
was subsequently built on it.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_.]

VIEWS.

Two engravings, probably contemporary, showing well-dressed
gentlemen playing at ninepins near the mulberry tree: Guildhall
Library, London (_Catal._ p. 210). One of these views is
engraved in Pinks, p. 128.

SADLER’S WELLS

Towards the close of the seventeenth century there stood on the site of
the present Sadler’s Wells Theatre (Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell), a
wooden building of a single story erected by Sadler, a surveyor of the
highways, as a Music House. The house stood in its own grounds, and the
New River flowed past its southern side.

It was in the garden of this house that in 1683 some workmen in
Sadler’s employ accidentally unearthed an ancient well, arched over
and curiously carved. Sadler, suspecting the water to have medicinal
properties, submitted it for analysis to a doctor, who advised him to
brew ale with it. This he did with such excellent results that the
ale of Sadler’s Wells became, and long remained, famous. In 1684,
Dr. Thomas Guidot issued a pamphlet setting forth the virtues of the
water which he described as a ferruginous chalybeate, akin to the
waters of Tunbridge Wells, though not tasting so strongly of steel and
having more of a nitrous sulphur about it. Being neither offensive
nor unpleasant to taste, a man was able to drink more of it than of
any other liquor. It might be taken with a few carraway comfits, some
elecampane, or a little preserved angelica to comfort the stomach. A
glass of Rhenish or white wine might also accompany the tonic, and
habitual smokers would find it very convenient to take a pipe after
drinking.

Sadler lost no time in advertising his Wells,[43] and in preparing
for the reception of the water-drinkers. He laid out his garden with
flowers and shrubs, and constructed in the centre a marble basin to
receive the medicinal water. Posturers, tumblers and rope-dancers,
performing at first in the open-air, were engaged. A Mrs. Pearson
played on the dulcimer on summer evenings at the end of the Long Walk,
and visitors danced to the strains of a band stationed on a rock of
shellwork construction. The place soon became popular, and hundreds of
people came daily to drink the water.

Epsom and Tunbridge Wells (in Kent) saw in Sadler’s Wells a serious
rival to their own spas, and in 1684 a tract was issued protesting
against this “horrid plot” laid to persuade people that “Sadler’s
Musick House is South-Borrow and Clarkenwell Green Caverley Plain.”
Was it possible for water from such a source to “bee effectual as our
wonder-working fountains that tast of cold iron, and breathe pure nitre
and sulphur”? Audacious and unconscionable Islington should surely be
content with its monopoly from time immemorial of the sale of cakes,
milk, custards, stewed prunes, and bottled ale. But even if the waters
“could be conceited somewhat comparable, where is the air? Where the
diversions? Where the conveniences?”

Possibly this tirade was not ineffectual; at any rate, about 1687
the place was comparatively deserted and the well fell into disuse.
“Sadler’s excellent steel waters” were, however, again advertised in
1697 as being as full of vigour, strength and virtue as ever they
were and very effectual for curing all hectic and hypochondriacal
heat, for beginning consumptions and for melancholy distempers. The
water-drinking appears to have finally ceased early in the eighteenth
century;[44] though the place, surrounded by fields till quite late in
the century, remained a pleasant resort for Londoners.

There you may sit under the shady trees
And drink and smoke fann’d by a gentle breeze.[45]

There pleasant streams of Middleton
In gentle murmurs glide along
In which the sporting fishes play
To close each wearied Summer’s day.
And Musick’s charms in lulling sounds
Of mirth and harmony abounds;
While nymphs and swains with beaux and belles
All praise the joys of Sadler’s Wells.
The herds around o’er herbage green
And bleating flocks are sporting seen
While Phœbus with its brightest rays
The fertile soil doth seem to praise.[46]

As late as 1803 mention is made of the tall poplars, graceful willows,
sloping banks and flowers of Sadler’s Wells; and the patient London
fisherman, like his brethren of the angle of the eighteenth century,
still stood by the stream.[47]

From about 1698 the gardens ceased to be a prominent feature of
Sadler’s Wells, and the fortunes of the place from that time to the
present day mainly concern the historian of the Theatre and the Variety
Stage, and can only be dealt with briefly in the present work.

[Illustration: SADLER’S WELLS ANGLERS. 1796.]

In 1698 (23 May) a vocal and instrumental concert was given, and
the company enjoyed such harmony as can be produced by an orchestra
composed of violins, hautboys, trumpets and kettledrums. This was
one of the concerts given in the Music House twice a week throughout
the season and lasting from ten o’clock to one. In 1699 James Miles
and Francis Forcer (_d._ 1705?), a musician, appear to have been
joint proprietors of Sadler’s Wells, which was for some years styled
Miles’s Music House. In this year (1699) there was an exhibition of
an “ingurgitating monster,” a man, who, for a stake of five guineas,
performed the hardly credible feat of eating a live cock. This
disgusting scene was witnessed by a very rough audience, including
however some beaux from the Inns of Court. A brightly painted gallery
in the saloon used for the entertainments appears to have been occupied
by the quieter portion of the audience, who were able from thence
to survey the pit below, which was filled, according to Ned Ward
(_circ._ 1699), with butchers, bailiffs, prize-fighters, and
housebreakers. The audience smoked and regaled themselves with ale and
cheese-cakes; while the organ played, a scarlet-clad fiddler performed,
and a girl of eleven gave a sword dance.

In 1712, Miles’s Music House was the scene of a fatal brawl in which
Waite, a lieutenant in the Navy, was killed by a lawyer named French,
“near the organloft.” In 1718 it is mentioned as the resort of
“strolling damsels, half-pay officers, peripatetic tradesmen, tars,
butchers and others musically inclined.”

Miles died in 1724 and probably about that time Forcer’s son, Francis
Forcer, junior (_d._ 1743), an educated man of good presence,
became proprietor and improved the entertainments of rope-dancing
and tumbling. The neighbourhood of Sadler’s Wells about this period
was infested by footpads. It was consequently a common sight to see
link-boys with their flaming torches standing outside the theatre, and
horse patrols were often advertised (_circ._ 1733–1783) as escorts to
the City and the West End. Occasionally the play-bills announced:--“It
will be moonlight.”

In 1746 Rosoman was proprietor, and introduced the system of admitting
the pit and gallery free, on the purchase of a pint of wine. A charge
of half-a-crown was made for the boxes. The audience smoked and toasted
one another. The man-servant by day became a beau at night; and with
the lady’s-maid, decked out in colours filched from her mistress, gazed
open-mouthed at the wonderful sights. Winifred Jenkins describes her
experiences, in _Humphry Clinker_ (1771):--“I was afterwards of a
party at Sadler’s Well, where I saw such tumbling and dancing on ropes
and wires that I was frightened and ready to go into a fit. I tho’t
it was all enchantment, and believing myself bewitched, began for to
cry. You knows as how the witches in Wales fly on broom-sticks; but
here was flying without any broomstick or thing in the varsal world,
and firing of pistols in the air and blowing of trumpets and singing,
and rolling of wheelbarrows on a wire (God bliss us!) no thicker than
a sewing thread; that to be sure they must deal with the Devil. A fine
gentleman with a pig’s tail and a golden sord by his side, came to
comfit me and offered for to treat me with a pint of wind; but I would
not stay; and so in going through the dark passage he began to show his
cloven futt and went for to be rude; my fellow sarvant Umphry Klinker
bid him be sivil, and he gave the young man a dous in the chops; but i’
fackins Mr. Klinker warn’t long in his debt; with a good oaken sapling
he dusted his doublet, for all his golden cheese-toaster; and fipping
me under his arm carried me huom, I nose not how, being I was in such a
flustration.”

Between 1752 and 1757 Michael Maddox exhibited his wire-dancing and
his tricks with a long straw, which he manipulated while keeping his
balance on the wire. In 1755 (and for many years afterwards) Miss
Wilkinson, the graceful wire-dancer and player of the musical glasses,
was a principal performer.

Giuseppe Grimaldi (“Iron Legs”) the father of the famous clown, was the
ballet-master and chief dancer in 1763 and 1764; and remained at the
Wells till 1767. Harlequinades and similar entertainments were from
this time added to the ordinary amusements of tumbling and rope-dancing.

[Illustration: SADLER’S WELLS IN 1792, AND AS IT WAS BEFORE 1765.]

In 1765 Rosoman pulled down the old wooden house and erected in
its place a new theatre which in part survives in the building of
the present day. The seats now had backs with ledges, as in our
music-halls, to hold the bottles and glasses of the audience. About
this time, or a few years later, the charge for a box was three
shillings including a pint of wine (port, Mountain, Lisbon or punch),
and eighteen pence and one shilling for the pit and gallery; an
extra sixpence entitling the ticket-holder to a pint of the wine
allowed to the box-holders. Angelo, at a later time, refers in his
_Reminiscences_ to the Cream of Tartar Punch and the wine of the
Sloe Vintage usually drunk at Sadler’s Wells.

Among the vocalists were Mrs. Lampe (1766–1767) and the famous Thomas
Lowe (1771 and later). In 1768 Spinacuti exhibited his wonderful monkey
which performed on the tight-rope feats resembling Blondin’s. Jemmy
Warner, the clown, appeared in 1769, and Richer, the wire and ladder
dancer, in 1773; and the years 1775 and 1776 were noticeable for the
appearance of James Byrne, the harlequin, father of Oscar Byrne. In
1778 the interior of the theatre was entirely altered and the roof
considerably raised. The audience now often included people of rank,
such as the Duke and Duchess of York and the Duke and Duchess of
Gloucester.

In 1781 Joseph Grimaldi (_b._ 1779, _d._ 1837) made his first
appearance at Sadler’s in the guise of a monkey, and appeared there
year by year till within a few years of his retirement. On 17 March,
1828, he took a farewell benefit there, playing “Hock,” the drunken
prisoner in “Sixes, or the Fiend.” His final appearance was at Drury
Lane on 27 June, 1828, when, prematurely broken down in health, he
sang, seated, his last song, and made his farewell speech.

The Dibdins, Charles the elder in 1772 and Charles the younger, 1801
to 1814, wrote many plays and songs for Sadler’s Wells. Charles the
younger and Thomas Dibdin were also proprietors and managers.

Among the performers who appeared between the years 1780 and 1801 were
Miss Romanzini, the ballad-vocalist, afterwards Mrs. Bland. Braham
(then Master Abrahams) the singer; Paul Redigé the clever tumbler,
called “the little Devil”; La Belle Espagnole, his wife; Dighton and
“Jew” Davis, pantomimists; Bologna and his sons in their exhibitions
of postures and feats of strength; Placido the tumbler, Dubois the
clown, and Costello (1783), whose wonderful dogs enacted a play called
_The Deserter_. Edmund Kean, the tragedian, appeared in June 1801
as “Master Carey, the pupil of Nature,” and recited Rollo’s address
from _Pizarro_.

[Illustration: SPINACUTI’S MONKEY AT SADLER’S WELLS, 1768.]

Among the varied entertainments at Sadler’s may be mentioned the
pony-races in 1802 (July) and 1822 (April and June). A course was
formed by means of a platform carried from the stage round the back
of the pit. In 1806 and 1826 a racecourse was formed outside in the
ground to the east of the theatre; booths, stands, and a judge’s box
were erected, and many of the most celebrated full-sized ponies with
a number of jockeys of “great celebrity” and lightweight were, at
least according to the bills, engaged. In 1826 (June) a balloon ascent
from the grounds was made by Mrs. Graham, and in 1838 her husband
also ascended. Belzoni, the famous excavator, exhibited his feats of
strength in 1803. In 1804 Sadler’s Wells was known as the “Aquatic
Theatre.” A large tank filled with water from the New River occupied
nearly the whole of the stage, and plays were produced with cascades
and other “real water” effects.

Our rapid survey, omitting many years, now passes on to 1844, when
Samuel Phelps became one of the proprietors of Sadler’s Wells.
During Phelps’s memorable management (1844–1862) there were produced
some thirty of Shakespeare’s plays, occupying about four thousand
nights--_Hamlet_ being played four hundred times.

In 1879 Sadler’s Wells was taken by Mrs. Bateman (from the Lyceum
Theatre), and under her management the whole of the interior was
reconstructed. At the present time it is a music-hall with two houses
nightly. It is curious to note that Macklin, describing Sadler’s Wells
as he remembered it some years before Rosoman’s time, says that several
entertainments of unequal duration took place throughout the day, and
were terminated by the door-keeper calling out “Is Hiram Fisteman
here?” Fisteman being a mythical personage whose name signified to the
performers that another audience was waiting outside. The price of
admission at that time was threepence and sixpence; to-day the charge
is twopence, a box being procurable for a shilling.

[The authorities are numerous. The Percival collection relating
to Sadler’s Wells (in Brit. Mus.) contains a great mass of
material bound in fourteen volumes. Useful summaries are given
in Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_, 409, ff; in the _Era Almanack_, 1872,
p. 1, ff; in M. Williams’s _Some London Theatres_; and in H.
Barton Baker’s _London Stage_, ii. p. 187, ff]

VIEWS.

The views, especially those of the 19th century, are abundant.
The following are of the 18th century:--

1. A view of Sadler’s Wells. C. Lempriere, sculp., 1731. Crace,
_Cat._, p. 593, No. 77; cp. _ib._ p. 592, No. 76.

2. Hogarth’s Evening, showing old Sadler’s Wells and the Sir
Hugh Middleton tavern.

3. South-west view of Sadler’s Wells, from a drawing by R.
C. Andrews, 1792; with a smaller view of the same in its
former state. Wise, sc., published in Wilkinson’s _Londina
Illustrata_.

Many others may be seen in the Percival and Crace collections.

MERLIN’S CAVE

The Merlin’s Cave, a tavern standing in the fields near the New River
Head, close to the present Merlin’s Place, possessed extensive gardens
and a skittle-ground, which were frequented by Londoners especially on
Sundays.

It was probably built in 1735 or not long afterwards[48] and derived
its name from the Merlin’s Cave constructed in 1735 by Queen Charlotte
in the Royal Gardens at Richmond. The Richmond Cave was adorned by
astrological symbols, and contained waxwork figures, of which the
wizard Merlin was the chief. By the end of 1735 humble imitations of
the Cave were established in various parts of the Kingdom, and it is
highly probable that the Merlin’s Cave tavern had an exhibition of this
kind. The New Wells in Lower Rosoman Street, Clerkenwell, possessed a
Merlin’s Cave in 1740.[49]

About 1833 the gardens of the Merlin’s Cave were built over. The New
Merlin’s Cave, a public-house now numbered 131 Rosoman Street, stands
a little north of the old site.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_, 580, 581; Wheatley’s _London_, s.v.]

VIEWS.

1. A view of the skittle-ground, Merlin’s Cave, New River Head,
with rules and instructions for playing. A print published by G.
Kearsley, 1786. Crace, _Cat._ p. 592, No. 71.

2. Old Merlin’s Cave near the New River Head, Rosoman Street. A
drawing by C. H. Matthews, 1833. Crace, _Cat._ p. 592, No.
70.

BAGNIGGE WELLS

A modern public-house, “Ye olde Bagnigge Wells,” standing on the west
side of the King’s Cross Road (formerly Bagnigge Wells Road), and the
building yard of Messrs. Cubitt, behind it, now occupy part of the site
of these famous Wells.

Bagnigge House, the building which formed the nucleus of the place of
entertainment called Bagnigge Wells, is believed to have been a summer
residence of Nell Gwynne. It fronted Bagnigge Wells Road, and was
pleasantly situated, lying in a hollow called Bagnigge Wash (or Vale);
and being well sheltered on all sides, except the south, by the rising
grounds of Primrose Hill, Hampstead and Islington.[50]

In 1757 a Mr. Hughes, described as a man curious in gardening, and
apparently the tenant of Bagnigge House, found that the more he watered
his plants with the water drawn from a well in the garden, the less
they seemed to thrive. He asked the opinion of a doctor, John Bevis,
who analysed the water, and pronounced it a valuable chalybeate. At
the same time the water of another well, sunk in the ground adjoining
Bagnigge House, was discovered to possess cathartic properties. Hughes,
realising the commercial possibilities of these wells, opened the
house and gardens to the public, at least as early as April 1759. The
place was open daily, including Sundays, and in 1760 Bevis published a
pamphlet, setting forth the virtues of the waters.

The chalybeate well was situated just behind the house, and the
cathartic well about forty yards north of the chalybeate. The water
of the two wells, which were each some twenty feet in depth, was,
however, brought to one point, and thence drawn from a double pump
placed within a small circular edifice consisting of pillars supporting
a dome, erected behind the house. This was commonly called the Temple.
The chalybeate was of a ferruginous character having “an agreeable
and sprightly sub-acid tartness,” and was, according to Bevis, “apt
to communicate a kind of giddiness with an amazing flow of spirits
and afterwards a propensity to sleep if exercise be not interposed.”
The purging water left a “distinguishable brackish bitterness on the
palate,” and three half-pints were “sufficient for most people,”
without the addition of salts to quicken their virtue.

The charge for drinking the water at the pump was threepence: half
a guinea entitled the visitor to its use throughout the season.
At a later date when Bagnigge Wells was mainly frequented for its
tea-gardens, a general charge of sixpence was made for admission.

The Long Room,[51] the old banqueting hall of Bagnigge House, was about
seventy-eight feet by twenty-eight feet with a rather low ceiling
and panelled walls. At one end of the room was a distorting mirror,
a source of considerable amusement, which, for instance, revealed to
Captain Tommy Slender of the Middlesex Militia, so odd a figure, that
he was almost “hyp’d to death.” Filled with apprehension he consulted
a physician, who understanding the use of the concave and convex
mirror made his patient take copious draughts of the water, and, after
pocketing his fee, led him to another panel of the glass, where the
Captain beheld a portly well-conditioned man. Vastly pleased he went
home convinced of the virtues of the wells. At the other end of the
room was a good organ[52] which provided music for the company. A water
organ was also to be heard in the grounds. The organ performances were
prohibited on Sundays by the magistrates from about 1772, apparently
with the idea of rendering the attractions of Bagnigge Wells less
dangerously seductive. The organ was, however, played regularly on the
week-day afternoons.[53]

[Illustration: “THE BREAD AND BUTTER MANUFACTORY, OR THE HUMORS
OF BAGNIGGE WELLS,” 1772.

(INTERIOR OF LONG ROOM.)]

From about 1760 till near the end of the eighteenth century Bagnigge
Wells was a popular resort. Some hundreds of visitors were sometimes to
be found in the morning for the water-drinking, and early breakfasts
were provided. In the afternoon the Long Room and the gardens were
thronged by tea-drinkers, especially on Sundays. Stronger beverages
were not unknown, and a bowl of good negus was a feature here. The
lawyer, the man about town, and the active city merchant, no less than
the gouty, and the hypochondriac, came to while away an hour or two:--

Ye gouty old souls and rheumaticks crawl on,
Here taste these blest springs, and your tortures are gone;
Ye wretches asthmatick, who pant for your breath,
Come drink your relief, and think not of death.
Obey the glad summons, to Bagnigge repair,
Drink deep of its streams, and forget all your care.

The distemper’d shall drink and forget all his pain,
When his blood flows more briskly through every vein;
The headache shall vanish, the heartache shall cease,
And your lives be enjoyed in more pleasure and peace.
Obey then the summons, to Bagnigge repair,
And drink an oblivion to pain and to care.[54]

The city matron deemed it the very home of fashion:--

Bon Ton’s the space ’twixt Saturday and Monday,
And riding in a one-horse chair on Sunday:
’Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons
At Bagnigge Wells with china and gilt spoons.[55]

With “genteel females” there mingled others of decidedly bad
reputation.[56] Even a feminine pickpocket[57] was not unknown. The
notorious John Rann,[58] who, as Dr. Johnson observed, towered above
the common mark as a highwayman, was a visitor at Bagnigge Wells, and
a favourite with some of the ladies there. On 27 July, 1774, Rann was
brought before Sir John Fielding after one of his escapades, but was
acquitted, the magistrate exhorting him in a pathetic manner to forsake
his evil ways. On the Sunday following (31 July), he appeared at
Bagnigge Wells with all his old assurance, attired in a scarlet coat,
tambour waistcoat, white silk stockings, and a laced hat. On each knee
he wore the bunch of eight ribbons, which had gained him his sobriquet
of Sixteen Strings Jack. On this occasion his behaviour gave such
offence to the company that he was thrown out of one of the windows
of the Long Room. About four months later, 30 November, 1774, he was
hanged at Tyburn for robbing Dr. Bell, chaplain to the Princess Amelia.

The grounds of Bagnigge Wells were behind the Long Room, and were laid
out in formal walks, with hedges of box and holly. There were a number
of fine trees, some curiously trimmed, and a pretty flower garden.
Ponds containing gold and silver fish, at that time a novelty, were in
the gardens; and the pond in the centre had a fountain in the form of a
Cupid bestriding a swan from whose beak issued streams of water.

Parallel with the Long Room, and separating the eastern part of the
grounds from the western (and by far the larger) portion, ran the
river Fleet, with seats on its banks, for such as “chuse to smoke or
drink cyder, ale, etc., which are not permitted in other parts of the
garden.” Willows, large docks and coarse plants, elder bushes and other
shrubs in luxurious profusion, fringed the banks; and we hear of Luke
Clennell, the artist, making studies of the foliage.

Three rustic bridges spanned the stream, and amid the trees were two
tall leaden figures; one a rustic with a scythe, the other a Phyllis
of the hay-fields, rake in hand.

Arbours for tea-drinking, covered with honeysuckle and sweetbriar,
surrounded the gardens; and there was a rustic cottage and a grotto.
The last named, a small castellated building of two apartments open
to the gardens, was brightly decorated in cockney fashion with
shells, fossils, and fragments of broken glass. A bowling-green and
skittle-alley were among the attractions of the Wells, and a bun-house
or bake-house was erected (before 1791) on the south side of the house,
but not immediately contiguous to it.

Hughes, the original proprietor, appears to have remained at the Wells
till about 1775; and a Mr. John Davis was subsequently the lessee till
his death in 1793. During the last twenty years of the eighteenth
century the company, for the most part, seems to have consisted of
persons of lower rank than formerly:--

Cits to Bagnigge Wells repair
To swallow dust and call it air.

Prentices and their sweethearts, and city matrons with their husbands,
frequented the place; while unfledged Templars paraded as fops, and
young ensigns sported their new cockades. The morning water-drinking
was not neglected, but the full tide of life at Bagnigge was from
five to eight p.m. on Sundays, when the gardens were crowded with
tea-drinkers. A prentice-song sets forth the delights of the Wells:--

Come prithee make it up, Miss, and be as lovers be
We’ll go to Bagnigge Wells, Miss, and there we’ll have some tea;
It’s there you’ll see the lady-birds perched on the stinging nettles,
The crystal water fountain, and the copper shining kettles.
It’s there you’ll see the fishes, more curious they than whales,

And they’re made of gold and silver, Miss, and wags their little tails;
They wags their little tails, they wags their little tails.

[Illustration: Frontispiece _for the_ Sunday Ramble;

_Being a View in Bagnigge Wells Garden, drawn on y^e Spot._

_Salubrious Waters, Tea, and Wine,
Here you may have, and also dine;
But, as ye through the Garden rove,
Beware, fond Youths, the Darts of Love._]

About 1810 the place became more exclusively the resort of the lower
classes, though the situation was still somewhat picturesque. In 1813
Thomas Salter, the lessee, became bankrupt, and Bagnigge Wells was
put up for sale by auction[59] on four days in the month of December.
Not a bench or shrub was omitted: the “excellent fine-toned organ,”
the water-organ, the chandeliers from the Long Room, dinner and tea
services of Worcester china; the tea-boxes, two hundred drinking
tables, four hundred teaboards, and some four hundred dozen of ale and
stout. The various rooms and buildings were also offered for sale,
including “Nell Gwyn’s house,” the summer-house, the bake-house, the
grotto, temple, bridges; the two leaden rustics,[60] the fountains and
all the gold and silver fish. Also the pleasure and flower gardens
with their greenhouses, all the trees, including a “fine variegated
holly tree,” the gooseberry and currant bushes, the hedges, shrubs and
flowers.

In the year following, however, the place was re-opened under W.
Stock’s management, and though the gardens[61] were now curtailed of
all the ground west of the Fleet (at this time a ditch-like, and, on
warm evenings, malodorous stream), an attempt was made to revive their
popularity. The proprietor’s efforts were not very successful, and
during the next few years the premises frequently changed hands. In
1818 the lessee of Bagnigge Wells was Mr. Thorogood, who let it to
Mr. Monkhouse (from White Conduit House) about 1831. In April 1831
Monkhouse advertised the Concert Room as being open every evening for
musical entertainments, which continued to be the main feature of
Bagnigge Wells until its close. In, or before, 1833 Richard Chapman was
the proprietor, and John Hamilton in 1834.

In 1838 (August 14th), the lessees, Mr. and Miss Foster, announced
for their benefit night an array of concert-room talent:--Le Mœurs of
Bagnigge Wells, Mr. Darking (of the London concerts), Miss Anderson
(from the Mogul Concert Room), Messrs. Sutton and Gibson (Sadler’s
Wells), Master Clifford (Yorkshire Stingo), Mr. H. Smith (Royal Union
Saloon), Mr. Boyan (Queen’s Head Rooms), Mr. Roberts (White Conduit);
and the songs included “Tell me, my heart,” “Billy the Snob” (in
character), “Pat was a darling boy.” A scene was given from _Julius
Cæsar_; a soliloquy from _Hamlet_; and one Simpson exhibited
classical delineations of the Grecian statues. The concert was followed
by a ball, in which were danced a Highland fling (by a Mr. McDougal),
a double comic medley dance, a waterman’s hornpipe, and a hornpipe
in real fetters and chains. During the evening a balloon was sent up
from the grounds; and sixpence procured admission to the whole. On
other concert nights the admission was as low as threepence. Among the
singers in the latest days of Bagnigge Wells were the well-known Paddy
O’Rourke, Alford, Ozealey, Prynn, Box, Sloman, Booth, Gibbs and Dickie.
Besides the songs and duets, portions of plays were acted, though
without scenery or special dresses.

The year 1841 witnessed the last entertainment at Bagnigge Wells, when
on 26 March there was an evening performance (admission sixpence) of
glees, farces and comic songs. The dismantling of the place was now
begun. The grotto, which was already in a very dilapidated condition,
was destroyed by some passers by in the early morning of 6 April, 1841.

In 1843 all that remained was the north end of the Long Room, and,
according to a representative of _Punch_, who visited the spot in
September of that year, the old well was filled up with rubbish and
mosaics of oyster shells. Shortly afterwards, the present tavern was
built; Mr. Negus, a name suggestive of other days, being the tenant in
1850.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_; Walford’s _O. & N. London_; Palmer’s
_St. Pancras_, p. 77, ff.; Wheatley’s _London P. & P._;
Kearsley’s _Strangers’ Guide_; Noorthouck’s _London_, p. 752,
ff.; Clinch’s _Marylebone and St. Pancras_, p. 148, ff.;
Malcolm’s _Lond. Rediv._ (1803), p. 237; _Sunday Ramble_
(various editions); Rimbault in _Notes and Queries_, 1st ser.
ii. 228; 4th ser. xi. 24; _Era Almanack_, 1871 (account of
Bagnigge Wells by Blanchard).]

VIEWS.

The following views may be noted:--

1. “Ancient stone from Bagnigge Wells,” engraved in Pinks, p.
558.

2. “The Bread and Butter Manufactory, or the Humors of Bagnigge
Wells,” a mezzotint published by Carrington Bowles, 1772; cp. an
aquatint print from a painting by Sanders, published by J. R.
Smith in 1772.

3. Mr. Deputy Dumpling and Family enjoying a summer afternoon, a
print (1780) published by Carrington Bowles. Crace, _Cat._,
p. 583, No. 84.

4. Bagnigge Wells, near Battle Bridge, a print (1777). Crace,
_Cat._, p. 583, No. 82; engraved in Walford’s _O. & N.
London_, ii. p. 294.

5. Bagnigge Wells Garden, frontispiece engraved for the
_Sunday Ramble_, “drawn on ye spot,” Page sculp.
(_circ._ 1774?) (W. Coll.); engraved in Pinks, p. 563.

6. “A Bagnigge Wells scene: or, No resisting temptation.”
An engraving published by Carrington Bowles, 1780. Crace,
_Cat._, p. 583, No. 85; a hand-coloured mezzotint in Brit.
Mus. _Catal. of Prints_, vol. iv., No. 4,545.

7. View of the Tea-gardens and Bun-house, from a drawing, taken
in 1790 (?); copy in sepia in W. Coll.; an almost identical
view is reproduced in Rogers’s _Views of Pleasure Gardens of
London_, p. 23, “from a drawing made in 1827.”

8. “The Road to Ruin” (with figure of John Rann). Crace,
_Cat._, p. 583, No. 86.

9. A view taken from the centre bridge in the gardens of
Bagnigge Wells. An example in Crosby Coll.; also reproduced in
Ashton’s _The Fleet_.

10. The original garden entrance to Bagnigge Wells (_circ._
1800?) J. T. Smith del. Etched in Rogers’s _Views of Pleasure
Gardens of London_, p. 26.

11. View of Bagnigge Wells Gardens, 1828, engraving in
Cromwell’s _Clerkenwell_, p. 414; reproduced in Pinks, p.
567.

12. A collection of manuscript notes, sketches and drawings,
relating to Bagnigge Wells in its later days, made by Anthony
Crosby. (Guildhall Library, London.)

13. “Residence of Nell Gwynne, Bagnigge Wells.” An engraving, C.
J. Smith, sc. 1844; Crace, _Cat._, p. 583, No. 88; Pinks,
p. 559.

“LORD COBHAM’S HEAD.”

The Lord Cobham’s (or Cobham’s) Head, named after Sir John Oldcastle
“the good Lord Cobham,” was situated in Cold Bath Fields, and on the
west side of Coppice Row, now Farringdon Road, at the point where it
was joined by Cobham Row.

It was first opened in 1728 (about April), and in its garden there was
then “a fine canal stocked with very good carp and tench fit to kill,”
and anglers were invited to board at the house. It was advertised to
be let or sold in 1729, and little is heard of it till 1742 when it
possessed a large garden with a “handsome grove of trees,” and gravel
walks, and claimed to sell the finest, strongest and most pleasant
beer in London at threepence a tankard. Some vocal and instrumental
music was at this time provided in the evening, and the walks were
illuminated.

In 1744 a good organ was erected in the chief room of the inn and the
landlord, Robert Leeming, for one of his concerts in 1744, announced
Mr. Blogg and others to sing selections from the Oratorios of “Saul”
and “Samson”; a concerto on the organ by Master Strologer and the
Coronation Anthem of Mr. Handel. After the concert came a ball, the
price of admission to the whole entertainment being half-a-crown. For
July 20th of the same year there was announced “a concert of musick
by the best Masters,” for the benefit of a reduced citizen, followed
by the display of a “set of fireworks by several gentlemen lovers
of that curious art--Rockets, line ditto, Katherine wheels, and many
other things; likewise will be shewn the manner of Prince Charles’s
distressing the French after he passed the Rhine.” The concerts do not
appear to have been given after this period but the Cobham’s Head long
continued to exist as a tavern, and is marked in Horwood’s Plan of 1799.

[Illustration: SUMMER AMUSEMENT.]

In December 1811 it was sold by auction, being described at that time
as a roomy brick building with a large yard behind, probably all that
was left of the gardens. About 1860 during the operations for the
Metropolitan Railway the Cobham’s Head was inundated by the bursting of
a New River Main, and was so much injured by the undermining for the
Railway that it had to be vacated.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_; Wheatley’s _London P. and P._, “Coppice
Row.”]

“SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE” TAVERN AND GARDENS.

The Sir John Oldcastle Tavern was situated in Cold Bath Fields on the
west side of Coppice Row, and was on the same side of the road as
the Lord Cobham’s Head, but rather nearer to Bagnigge Wells. It was
originally a wayside inn, but during the first half of the eighteenth
century became a well-known tavern. In 1707 (July 18th) the Clerkenwell
Archers held their annual dinner there, and frequented it for some
years.

In the rear of the house were extensive gardens, well planted with
trees; and from 1744 to 1746 these were open during the summer for
evening entertainments. A band “of the best Masters” played from five
o’clock till nine; the walks were lit with lamps, and fireworks were
displayed at the close of the evening. The admission was sixpence,
including refreshments. In July 1746 concerts of vocal and instrumental
music were announced, at which the chief vocalist, Mr. Blogg, sang such
songs as “Come, Rosalind,” “Observe the fragrant blushing Rose” and
“The Happy Pair.”[62]

In 1753 a Smallpox Hospital was erected on part of the Oldcastle
estate, but the Sir John Oldcastle, immediately adjacent, was left
standing till 1762 when, being in a ruinous condition, it was pulled
down.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_; Larwood and Hotten, _History of
Signboards_, p. 97; Tomlins’s _Perambulation of Islington_, p.
172; _Low Life_ (1764), p. 81; _The Field Spy_ (London, 1714);
Ashton’s _The Fleet_, p. 117.]

VIEWS.

South view of the Sir John Oldcastle in Lempriere’s Set of
Views, 1731.

ST. CHAD’S WELL, BATTLE BRIDGE.

The site of St. Chad’s Well, a mineral spring and garden at Battle
Bridge, is now partly occupied by St. Chad’s Place, a small street
turning out of the Gray’s Inn Road (east side) and lying between the
King’s Cross Station (Metropolitan Railway) and the Home and Colonial
Schools.

About the middle of the eighteenth century the Well was in considerable
repute, at least in the neighbourhood, and is said to have been
visited in the morning by hundreds of people who paid threepence for
the privilege of drinking. A hamper of two dozen bottles could be
bought for £1. At that time the gardens attached to the Well were very
extensive, and abounded with fruit trees, shrubs, and flowers.

During the last ten or twenty years of the eighteenth century few
visitors frequented the Well;[63] though we hear of it again about
1809, as being much resorted to by the lower classes of tradesmen on
Sundays.

In the early part of the nineteenth century it had a few visitors of
note. Sir Allan Chambré, the judge, used to visit the Well, and Munden,
the comedian, when living at Kentish Town, drank the water three
times a week. Mr. Mensall, the master of the Gordon House Academy at
Kentish Town, used to march his young gentlemen to St. Chad’s once a
week in order to save in doctor’s bills. John Abernethy, the surgeon,
was also a visitor. When Hone visited the place in 1825, the Spring of
St. Chad was once more almost deserted. Hone found a faded inscription
“St. Chad’s Well,” placed over a pair of wooden gates, one of which
(to quote his description) “opens on a scene which the unaccustomed
eye may take for the pleasure-ground of Giant Despair. Trees stand as
if made not to vegetate, clipped hedges seem willing to decline, and
nameless weeds straggle weakly upon unlimited borders.” “On pacing the
garden alleys, and peeping at the places of retirement, you imagine
the whole may have been improved and beautified for the last time by
some countryman of William III.” “If you look upwards you perceive
painted on an octagon board ‘Health Restored and Preserved.’ Further
on, towards the left stands a low, old-fashioned, comfortable-looking
large-windowed dwelling, and ten to one but there also stands at the
open door an ancient, ailing female in a black bonnet, a clean coloured
cotton gown, and a check apron; ... this is the Lady of the Well.”

In September 1837 the dwelling-house, spring and garden were put up to
auction by their proprietor, a Mr. Salter. The next proprietor, William
Lucas, finding that the celebrity of the waters had for a number of
years past been confined chiefly to the neighbourhood, issued in 1840 a
pamphlet and hand-bills in which the water was described as perfectly
clear when fresh drawn, with a slightly bitter taste. It was composed
of sulphate of soda and magnesia in large quantities, and of a little
iron held in solution by carbonic acid. The waters were recommended
as a universal medicine, being “actively purgative, mildly tonic and
powerfully diuretic.” The Pump-room was opened at 5 a.m., and the
price of admission was threepence, or one guinea a year. By this time
the old garden had been considerably curtailed by the formation of St.
Chad’s Place, and by letting out (1830) a portion as a timber yard. But
it was more carefully kept, and a new and larger pump-room had been
built in 1832. A fore-court adjoined the Gray’s Inn Road, and next to
it were the dwelling-house and pump-room. Beyond them was the garden
which on the north was joined by the backs of the houses in Cumberland
Row, and on the south by the timber-yard.

The pump-room was still in existence in 1860,[64] but was removed about
that time during the operations for the new Metropolitan Railway.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_, pp. 504–506; Kearsley’s _Strangers’
Guide_ s.v. “Battlebridge”; Lysons’s _Environs_, iii. (1795),
p. 381; Lambert’s _London_, iv. 295; Hughson’s _London_, vi. p.
366; _Gent. Mag._ 1813, pt. 2, p. 557; Cromwell’s _Islington_,
p. 156, ff.; Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i. 322, ff.; E. Roffe’s
_Perambulating Survey of St. Pancras_, p. 13; Palmer’s _St.
Pancras_, p. 75; Clinch’s _Marylebone, and St. Pancras_;
Ashton’s _The Fleet_, p. 49.]

VIEWS.

1. St. Chad’s Well, a view from the garden. Water colour drawing
by T. H. Shepherd, 1850. Crace, _Cat._ 583, No. 81.

2. Plan annexed to the auctioneer’s particulars and conditions
of sale of St. Chad’s Well, 1837 (_see_ Pinks, p. 506).

BOWLING GREEN HOUSE, NEAR THE FOUNDLING HOSPITAL

The Bowling Green House, a tavern with a large bowling green attached
to it on the south, was situated at the back of the Foundling Hospital,
and south of the New Road. A lane turning out of Gray’s Inn Lane led
to it. It is first mentioned in 1676,[65] and it afterwards gained
notoriety as a resort of gamesters. On a day in March, 1696, the
house was suddenly surrounded by soldiers and constables, who seized
and conveyed before a Justice of the Peace every person found on the
premises. Some of the offenders had to pay a fine of forty shillings
apiece.[66]

In the course of years, the character of the place changed, and in
1756 the proprietor, Joseph Barras,[67] announced that he had greatly
altered and fitted up the Bowling Green House[68] in a “genteel
manner.” The Bowling Green was declared to be in exceeding fine
order, and coffee, tea, and hot loaves were to be had every day. J.
P. Malcolm[69] says that the Bowling Green House was for many years a
quiet country retreat, but shortly before 1811 it was removed, and Judd
Street, Tonbridge Street, &c., began to cover the space south of New
Road. Hastings Street and part of Tonbridge Street appear to be on the
site.

[Authorities cited in the notes.]

ADAM AND EVE TEA GARDENS, TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD

The premises of the Adam and Eve stood at the north-west extremity
of Tottenham Court Road, at the lower end of the road leading to
Hampstead, and occupied the site of the manor-house of the ancient
manor of Tottenhall or Tottenham.

The Adam and Eve Tavern is known to have been in existence under that
sign in 1718.[70] Already in the seventeenth century Tottenham Court
is mentioned as a place of popular resort, one of “the City out-leaps”
(Broome, _New Academy_, 1658). George Wither (_Britain’s
Remembrancer_, 1628) speaks of the London holiday-makers who
frequented it:--

“And Hogsdone, Islington and Tottenham Court,
For cakes and cream had then no small resort.”

In 1645 Mrs. Stacye’s maid and two others (as the Parish books of St.
Giles in the Fields record) were fined one shilling apiece for the
enormity of “drinking at Tottenhall Court on the Sabbath daie.”[71]
In Wycherley’s _Gentleman Dancing-master_ (1673) a ramble to Totnam
Court is mentioned together with such fashionable diversions as a visit
to the Park, the Mulberry Garden, and the New Spring Garden (_i.e._
Vauxhall).

In the succeeding century Tottenham Court Fair and the “Gooseberry
Fair” doubtless brought many a customer to the Adam and Eve, and in the
spring-time, as Gay expresses it, “Tottenham fields with roving beauty
swarm.” The Adam and Eve then possessed a long room, with an organ, and
in its spacious gardens in the rear and at the side of the house were
fruit-trees and arbours for tea-drinking parties. There were grounds
for skittles and Dutch-pins, and in the fore-court which was shadowed
by large trees, tables and benches were placed for the visitors. At
one time it could boast the possession of a monkey, a heron, some wild
fowl, some parrots, and a small pond for gold fish.

Vincent Lunardi, the first man in England to make a balloon ascent,[72]
made an unexpected appearance at the Adam and Eve Gardens on 13 May,
1785. He had ascended from the Artillery Ground about one o’clock, but
the balloon, being overcharged with vapour, descended in about twenty
minutes in the Adam and Eve Gardens. “He was immediately surrounded by
great numbers of the populace, and though he proposed re-ascending,
they were not to be dissuaded from bearing him in triumph on their
shoulders.”[73]

[Illustration: ... _et se Protinus æthereà tollit inastra
via_.

VINCENT LUNARDI ESQ^r.

_Secretary to the Neapolitan Ambassador and the first aerial
Traveller in the English Atmosphere Sept^r. 15. 1784._

Publish’d Oct^r 5^th 1784 by John Bell British Library Strand]

Towards the end of the eighteenth century[74] the Adam and Eve began
to be hemmed in by buildings; by Brook Street (now Stanhope Street)
on the west, and by Charles Street (now Drummond Street, western
end) on the north. The gardens however appear to have retained their
old dimensions,[75] and at that time extended as far north as Charles
Street.[76]

The thousands of honest holiday-makers who visited the gardens had,
however, towards the end of the eighteenth century, been replaced by a
motley crew of highwaymen, footpads and low women,[77] and in the early
years of the present century (before 1811) the magistrates interfered:
“the organ was banished, the skittle grounds destroyed, and the gardens
dug up for the foundation of Eden Street.”

About 1813 the Adam and Eve Tavern and Coffee House, once more
respectably conducted, was a one-storied building. Part of it fronted
the New (Euston) Road, while an archway in the Hampstead Road led to
the other parts of the premises. A detached gabled building, originally
part of the domestic offices of the old Tottenhall Manor House, was
still standing at this time and was used as a drinking parlour in
connection with the Adam and Eve. Six small houses and shops also
adjoined the tavern and brought the proprietor about £25 each a year in
rent, though they are said to have been partly constructed out of the
boxes in the old tea-gardens.

The large public-house called the Adam and Eve, which now stands on the
old site at the corner of the Euston and Hampstead Roads, was built in
1869.

Near the Adam and Eve was the Cold Bath in the New Road. It was in
existence in 1785, when it was advertised[78] as in fine order for the
reception of ladies and gentlemen. The bath was situated in the midst
of a pleasant garden, and was constantly supplied by a spring running
through it. The water was described as serviceable to persons suffering
from nervous disorders and dejected spirits.

[Wilkinson’s _Londina illust._, i. “Tottenhall,” Nos. 92,
93; Hone’s _Year Book_, p. 47, cp. p. 317; Walford, iv. 477;
v. 303 ff.; Palmer’s _St. Pancras_, p. 204, ff.; Larwood and
Hotten, _Signboards_, 257, 258; Brayley’s _Londiniana_, ii. p.
165; Cunningham’s _London_ (1850), “Tottenham Court Road”; F.
Miller’s _St. Pancras_, p. 161; Wheatley’s _London_, “Tottenham
Court Road” and “Adam and Eve.”]

VIEWS.

1. The scene of Hogarth’s March to Finchley (see Nichols’s
_Hogarth_, i. 155, ff.) is laid at the Tottenham Court
Turnpike, at the south end of the Hampstead Road. On the right
is the King’s Head tavern, and on the left the Adam and Eve.
The sign of Adam and Eve appears on a post in the road, and
Hogarth has inscribed it “Tottenham Court Nursery,” in allusion
to Broughton’s amphitheatre for boxing that existed here
(_see_ Walford, v. 304).

2. Two views in Wilkinson’s _Londina_, i. “Remains of the
Manor House denominated the lordship of Toten-hall, now vulgarly
called Tottenham Court, and occupied by the Adam and Eve Tea
House and Gardens.” Shepherd del., Wise sculp. (published 1813).
Beneath this is a plan of the vicinity marking Eden Street, ii.
Part of the Adam and Eve coffee rooms, Hampstead Road, J. Carter
del., Wise sculp. (published 1811).

3. A woodcut in Hone’s _Year Book_, p. 47, of the Adam and
Eve (before 1825), substantially the same as Wilkinson’s second
view. The views in Wilkinson and Hone show the Adam and Eve
in its altered condition after the proprietor Greatorex (end
of eighteenth century?) had made an addition to the tavern,
fronting the New Road.

THE PEERLESS POOL

The Peerless Pool should, in strictness, be described in a history of
sports and pastimes, but as a pleasant summer resort, an oasis in the
regions of Old Street and the City Road, it must be allowed a place in
the present volume.

In ground immediately behind St. Luke’s Hospital (built 1782–84), Old
Street, was one of the ancient London springs which had formed, by its
overflowings, a dangerous pond, referred to,[79] as early as 1598,
as the “clear water called Perillous Pond, because divers youths by
swimming therein have been drowned.”

In the seventeenth century it was apparently resorted to for the
favourite amusement of duck-hunting: “Push, let your boy lead his water
spaniel along, and we’ll show you the bravest sport at Parlous Pond”
(Middleton’s _Roaring Girl_, 1611).

In 1743, William Kemp, a London jeweller, who had derived benefit from
his plunges in its water, took the Parlous Pond in hand. He embanked
it, raised the bottom, changed its name to Peerless Pool, and opened
it to subscribers as a pleasure bath. In the adjacent ground, of which
he held the lease, he introduced other attractions: in particular he
constructed a fish-pond, 320 feet long, 90 feet broad, and 11 feet
deep, and stocked it with carp, tench, and other fish. The high banks
of this were thickly covered with shrubs, and on the top were walks
shaded by lime trees. To the east of the fish-pond was a Cold Bath
(distinct from the Pool) 36 feet long and 18 feet broad,[80] supplied
by a spring. The Peerless Pool itself as contrived by Kemp was an
open-air swimming-bath, 170 feet long, more than 100 feet broad, and
from 3 to 5 feet deep. It was nearly surrounded by trees, and the
descent was by marble steps to a fine gravel bottom, through which the
springs that supplied the pool came bubbling up. The entrance was from
a bowling-green on the south side, through a marble saloon (30 feet
long) which contained a small collection of light literature for the
benefit of subscribers to the Pool. Adjoining this were the dressing
boxes.

The place became, from about the middle of the eighteenth century,
a favourite resort of London anglers and swimmers, and many London
merchants and persons of good position were among the subscribers. An
annual payment of one guinea entitled subscribers to the use of the
baths, and to the diversion of “angling and skating at proper seasons.”
Occasional visitors paid two shillings each time of bathing.

[Illustration: THE PLEASURE BATH, PEERLESS POOL, CITY ROAD.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

PLEASURE BATH

£. _s._ _d._

Month 0 9 0
Two Months 0 16 0
Year 1 1 0

Single Bathe }
with Towels } 0 1 0
and Box }
Ditto without 0 0 6

COLD BATH

£. _s._ _d._

Month 0 10 0
Two Months 0 17 0
Year 1 10 0
Single Bathe 0 1 0

THE PLEASURE BATH OF PEERLESS POOL,

The largest in England, is situated in the immediate
neighbourhood of the heart of the City, within Ten minutes’
direct walk of the Bank and Exchange. (vide plan.) Surrounded
by trees and shrubberies, open to the air, although
entirely screened from observation, and most ample in its
dimensions--=170= FEET in length, by =108= in
breadth--it offers to the Bather the very advantages he would
least expect to find at so short a distance from the centre of
the metropolis. Its depth, which increases gradually from 3 feet
6 inches to 4 feet 8 inches, is such as to afford free scope to
the Swimmer, while it precludes all fear of accident to any,
and the temperature of the water rises to a height sufficient
to ensure all the comfort and luxury of Bathing, without the
risk of injury to health, from a too violent contrast with the
external air.

THE COLD BATH,

THIRTY-SIX feet by EIGHTEEN, is the largest
of its kind in London, and both Baths are entirely supplied by
Springs, which are constantly overflowing.

* * * * *

_The City Road is the line from all parts of the_ WEST
END _to the City. Omnibuses pass both ways nearly every
minute throughout the day._

1, Bath Buildings Entrance--2, Baldwyn Street Entrance--3, Cold
Bath--4, Pleasure Bath--5, Dressing Boxes--6, Shrubberies.

BILL OF PEERLESS POOL. _Circ._ 1846.]

About 1805 Mr. Joseph Watts (father of Thomas Watts, the well-known
Keeper of Printed Books at the British Museum) obtained a lease of
the place from St. Bartholomew’s Hospital at a rental of £600 per
annum, and eventually saw his way to a profit by building on part of
the ground. He drained the fish-pond which lay due east and west, and
built the present Baldwin Street on the site. The old-fashioned house
inhabited by Kemp, which stood in a garden and orchard of apple and
pear trees overlooking the west end of the fish-pond, Watts pulled
down, erecting Bath Buildings on the spot.[81] The pleasure bath and
the cold bath he, however, continued to open to the public at a charge
of one shilling, and Hone gives a pleasant description of it as it was
(still in Watts’s proprietorship) in 1826. “Its size,” he says, “is the
same as in Kemp’s time, and trees enough remain to shade the visitor
from the heat of the sun while on the brink.” “On a summer evening it
is amusing to survey the conduct of the bathers; some boldly dive,
others ‘timorous stand,’ and then descend, step by step, ‘unwilling and
slow’; choice swimmers attract attention by divings and somersets, and
the whole sheet of water sometimes rings with merriment. Every fine
Thursday and Saturday afternoon in the summer, columns of blue-coat
boys, more than three score in each, headed by their respective
beadles, arrive, and some half strip themselves ere they reach their
destination; the rapid plunges they make into the Pool, and their
hilarity in the bath, testify their enjoyment of the tepid fluid.”

The Pool was still frequented in 1850,[82] but at a later time was
built over. Its name is kept locally in remembrance by Peerless Street,
the second main turning on the left of the City Road, just beyond Old
Street, in coming from the City. This street was formerly called
Peerless Row, and formed the northern boundary of the ground laid out
by Kemp.[83]

[Maitland’s _Hist. of London_, i. p. 84, ff.; Dodsley’s
_London_, “Peerless Pool”; Noorthouck’s _London_, p. 756, ff.;
Trusler’s _London Adviser_ (1786), p. 124; Hone’s _Every Day
Book_, i. p. 970, ff.; Pennant’s _London_, p. 268; Wheatley’s
_London P. and P._ iii. s.v.; newspaper cuttings, &c., W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

1. Two woodcuts (pleasure bath and fish-pond) from drawings,
_circ._ 1826, by John Cleghorn in Hone’s _Every Day
Book_ (cited above).

2. View of Peerless Pool Bath and Gardens in 1848; coloured
drawing by Read. Crace, _Cat._, p. 608, No. 9.

3. The Pleasure Bath, Peerless Pool. An advertisement bill with
woodcut of the bath, surrounded by trees and shrubberies, and a
plan of the vicinity (1846?), W. Coll.; cp. Crace, _Cat._,
p. 608, No. 8.

THE SHEPHERD AND SHEPHERDESS, CITY ROAD

The Shepherd and Shepherdess ale-house stood on or near the site
afterwards occupied by the well-known Eagle Tavern in the City Road and
Shepherdess Walk.

It was built at some time before 1745, and its gardens were frequented
in the last century by visitors, who regaled themselves with cream,
cakes and furmity. Invalids sometimes stayed at the Shepherd and
Shepherdess[84] to benefit by the pure air of the neighbourhood. The
City Road (opened in 1761) was cut through the meadow-grounds that
surrounded the inn. The place gradually lost its rural isolation, but
it is found enumerated among the tea-gardens resorted to by Londoners
of the “middling classes” in the first quarter of the nineteenth
century.

The Shepherd and Shepherdess appears to have been pulled down about
1825, at which time Thomas Rouse built on or near its site the Eagle
Tavern (rebuilt 1838) which formed the nucleus of the famous Eagle
establishment with its Grecian saloon and theatre, its gardens and
dancing pavilion. The tavern, grounds and theatre were purchased by
“General” Booth in 1882, and have since been occupied by the Salvation
Army.[85]

[Larwood and Hotten, _Signboards_, 352, 353; _Picture of
London_, 1802 and 1823; Walford, ii. 227, 274.]

THE SPRING GARDEN, STEPNEY

This Spring Garden was situated a little distance to the north of the
Mile End Road and its eastern side abutted on what is now Globe Road.

It was in existence at least as early as 1702, and at that period seems
to have been sometimes known as the Jews’ Spring Garden,[86] probably
because it was owned or frequented by some of the wealthy Jews who
at that time and long afterwards resided in Goodman’s Fields and the
neighbourhood. There was a tavern attached to the gardens, the keeper
of which, in 1743, was a Mr. Dove Rayner,[87] described as a man of
“agreeable mirth and good humour.”

The garden continued to exist till 1764 when we hear of it as a Sunday
evening resort of holiday-makers,[88] but it does not appear to be
mentioned at a later date.

In Horwood’s Plan (G) of 1799 the garden (or its site), together with
a few buildings, is marked as Spring Garden Court. Later on, in the
present century, the ground was known as Spring Grove. Nicholas Street
and Willow Street, between Globe Road and St. Peter’s Road on the west,
now appear to occupy part of the site.

About the middle of the last century Stepney is described as[89] a
village consisting principally of houses of entertainment to which vast
crowds of people of both sexes resorted on Sundays and at Easter and
Whitsuntide, to eat Stepney buns and drink ale and cyder.

One of these inns was known as The Treat; and there is a print[90] of
it, dated 1760, inscribed with the couplet:--

At Stepney now with cakes and ale,
Our tars their mistresses regale.

MARYLEBONE GROUP

MARYLEBONE GARDENS

§ 1. _Origin of Marylebone Gardens._

The principal entrance[91] to these well-known gardens was through The
Rose (or Rose of Normandy), a tavern situated on the east side of the
High Street, Marylebone, opposite (old) Marylebone Church. The gardens
extended as far east as the present Harley Street; and Beaumont Street,
part of Devonshire Street, part of Devonshire Place, and Upper Wimpole
Street now occupy their site. When enlarged (in 1753) to their fullest
extent they comprised about eight acres, and were bounded on the south
by Weymouth Street, formerly called Bowling Green Lane or Bowling
Street.

As a place of amusement of the Vauxhall type, the gardens date,
practically, from 1738, but the Marylebone garden and bowling-green
came into existence at a much earlier period.

The gardens were originally those belonging to the old Marylebone
Manor House,[92] and were detached from it in 1650. There were several
bowling-greens in the immediate vicinity, the principal of which was
a green appurtenant to the Rose, and situated in the gardens behind
this tavern. In 1659 the gardens of the Rose, the nucleus of the later
Marylebone Gardens, consisted of gravel walks, a circular walk, and the
bowling-green which formed the central square. The walks at that time
were “double-set with quick-set hedges, full grown and indented like
townwalls.” On the outside of the whole was a brick wall, with fruit
trees.

Pepys records a visit in 1668 (7 May):--“Then we abroad to Marrowbone,
and there walked in the garden: the first time I ever was there, and a
pretty place it is.”

In 1691 the place was known as Long’s Bowling Green at the Rose, and
for several years (_circ._ 1679–1736) persons of quality might be
seen bowling there during the summer time:--

At the Groom Porter’s batter’d bullies play;
Some Dukes at Marybone bowl time away.[93]

Less innocent amusement was afforded by the tavern, which, at the end
of the seventeenth and in the early part of the eighteenth century, was
notorious as a gaming-house. Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham (_d._
1712) was wont at the end of the season to give a dinner at the Rose to
its chief frequenters, proposing as the toast, “May as many of us as
remain unhanged next spring meet here again.” “There will be deep play
to-night (says Macheath in the _Beggar’s Opera_), and consequently
money may be pick’d up on the road. Meet me there, and I’ll give you
the hint who is worth setting.”

Some special attractions were occasionally offered to the quality who
frequented the Bowling Green; thus, in 1718 there were illuminations
there, and a consort of musick to celebrate the King’s birthday. In
1736 we hear of scaffolding, 135 feet high, that was erected in the
gardens for the Flying Man who was to fly down it by a rope with a
wheelbarrow before him.

§ 2. _Marylebone Gardens under Gough and Trusler._ 1738–1763.

Daniel Gough, who was proprietor of the Rose and its gardens in 1737,
first made a regular charge for admission,[94] and in the summer of
1738 (July 12) advertised and opened “Marybone[95] Gardens” as a place
of evening entertainment. He selected a band from the Opera and the
Theatres to play, from six to ten, eighteen of the best concertos,
overtures and airs; erected a substantial garden-orchestra, in which
was placed (1740) an organ by Bridge; and built (1739–1740) the House
or Great Room for balls and suppers. Gough was succeeded as manager
(in 1751?) by John Trusler,[96] who being by profession a cook paid
attention to the commissariat of the Gardens. The rich seed and plum
cakes, and the almond cheese-cakes made by his daughter, Miss Trusler,
became a spécialité of the place. Sir John Fielding, the magistrate,
was of opinion that Londoners should not want Mrs. Cornelys’s
entertainments in Soho, when they had Ranelagh with its music and
fireworks and Marybone Gardens with their music, wine and plum-cakes.

During this period (1738–1763) Marybone Gardens were opened in the
morning for public breakfasting in the Great Room, and for a concert,
beginning at twelve, to which the admission was two shillings, or one
shilling. The admission for the evening entertainment was the same, but
was raised on exceptional nights to three shillings.

In August 1738, there were introduced “two Grand or Double Bassoons,
made by Mr. Stanesby, junior, the greatness of whose sound surpass
that of any other bass instrument whatsoever.” In 1741 a grand martial
composition was performed by Mr. Lampe in honour of Admiral Vernon.
In 1744 Knerler, the violinist, was the principal executant; and Mr.
Ferrand performed on “the Pariton, an instrument never played on in
publick before.”

In 1747 Miss Falkner made her appearance and remained the principal
female singer[97] till about 1752.

[Illustration: _W^m. Defesch._]

Mary Ann Falkner (or Faulkner),[98] was the niece of George Faulkner,
the Dublin printer, and was a vocalist of celebrity in her day, though
she never aspired beyond such songs as “Amoret and Phillis,” “The Happy
Couple,” “Fair Bellinda,” “Delia,” and “The Faithful Lover.” She had
many admirers, among whom were the Earl of Halifax (the second Earl),
Lord Vane, and Sir George Saville; but she behaved circumspectly, and
bestowed her hand upon a young man named Donaldson, the son of a
linendraper. Unfortunately, her husband, who had been brought up in
what Dr. Trusler calls “the line of a gentleman,” was extravagant and
idle, and consented (about 1753) to a base arrangement by which his
wife was taken under the protection of Lord Halifax.

The Earl built a house for Mrs. Donaldson at Hampton Court Green,
where she seems to have lived quietly. At a later time when Halifax
was contemplating marriage with the wealthy daughter of General Drury,
she surprised him one evening in the walks at Vauxhall Gardens, and so
exerted her influence that the Earl not only left his Vauxhall friends
without an apology, but broke off his engagement with Miss Drury.[99]

Other vocalists of this period were Thomas Lowe (from 1750); Mr.
Baker (1750); Master Michael Arne (1751); Madame Ramelio (1752–1753);
Mrs. Chambers (1753); Champness (1757); Kear (1757); Thomas Glanville
(1757); and Reinhold (from 1757). Defesch, the well-known musician, was
engaged as first violin in 1748.

In 1758 “La Serva Padrona, or the Servant Mistress,”[100] the first
Burletta ever given in the gardens, was performed and was often
afterwards repeated. It was an adaptation of Pergolesi’s composition
by the elder Storace, and by Dr. Trusler, the proprietor’s son.
The younger Trusler subsequently became a clergyman and finally a
bookseller. He distinguished himself by selling to his clerical
brethren original sermons printed in script characters, and made in
this way, as he told his Bishop, an income of £150 a year.

During this period of the Gardens’ history the evening entertainments
were usually confined to concerts, though balls were given from time
to time in the Great Room. Fireworks were not often displayed, but on
26 September, 1751, after a masquerade, they were introduced with a
kind of apology:--“the playing-off the fireworks (which will begin at
eleven o’clock) will not incommode the ladies.” “A large collection” of
fireworks was announced for display on the June evenings of 1753.

A view of Marybone Gardens in 1755 shows smartly-dressed people
promenading in the Grand Walk, with the Orchestra and the Great Room
on either hand. At this period families of good position had country
houses in the High Street, Marylebone, and they probably availed
themselves of the subscription tickets for the balls and concerts in
the Gardens. Old Dr. John Fountayne, for instance, would stroll in from
the Manor House School with his friend Mr. Handel. On one occasion the
great composer begged for Fountayne’s opinion on a new composition that
the band was performing. They sat down together, and after a time the
clergyman proposed that they should move. “It is not worth listening
to--it’s very poor stuff.” “You are right, Mr. Fountayne,” said Handel,
“it _is_ very poor stuff. I thought so myself when I had finished
it.”[101]

[Illustration: MARYBONE GARDENS, 1755–1761.]

The Gardens appear to have been generally conducted in a respectable
way, though the Duke of Cumberland, if Dr. Trusler[102] has not
maligned him, used to behave in a scandalous manner when he visited the
place. Probably, gentlemen did not always accede to the proprietor’s
humble request that they should not “smoak on the walks”; and a scene
occasionally occurred. One Saturday night in August 1751, an angry
gentleman drew upon another who was unarmed, but had his sword struck
out of his hand by a “nobleman” standing by, so that the disputants
were reduced (we are told) to the use of cane and fist. But on the
whole, Marybone Gardens was a decent and social place of amusement, and
little parties were to be seen chatting and laughing in its latticed
alcoves. In May 1753 when the Gardens had been extended and improved,
the place could boast (according to a contemporary account) of the
largest and politest assembly ever seen there.

A guard of soldiers and peace-officers conducted the company
(_circ._ 1741) to and from the Gardens, and at eleven and twelve
o’clock a special guard set off to take people along the fields as
far as the Foundling Hospital. (_circ._ 1743). The neighbourhood
of the Gardens was, in fact, by no means safe. On a June night of
1751 when the entertainment was in full swing, some thieves entered
the house of Mr. William Coombs, a wine merchant residing at the
Gardens, and carried off his plate and china. About three weeks later a
gentleman who was in the fields at the back of the Gardens, listening
to the strains of the band, had a pistol pointed at him by a man who
demanded his money and his watch. On June 30, 1752, a servant going to
the Gardens was attacked in the fields and robbed by two footpads.[103]
At a later date (1764) the proprietor felt it necessary to offer “a
premium of ten guineas” for the apprehension of any highwayman or
footpad found on the road to the Gardens, and a horse-patrol to and
from the City was provided at that time. It is said that Dick Turpin
once publicly kissed in the Gardens a beauty of the time related to Dr.
Fountayne. The lady expostulated, but Turpin exclaimed “Be not alarmed,
Madam, you can now boast that you have been kissed by Dick Turpin.
Good morning!”

§3. _The Gardens under Thomas Lowe._ 1763–1768.

In 1763 the Gardens and adjoining premises were taken at a yearly
rent of £170[104] by Thomas (“Tommy”) Lowe, the favourite tenor of
Vauxhall Gardens, who had already appeared at Marybone Gardens in 1750.
He engaged, among other singers, Mrs. Vincent, Mrs. Lampe, and the
beautiful Nan Catley, then only eighteen. Lowe opened in May (1763)
with a “Musical address to the Town,” in which the singers (Lowe,
Miss Catley and Miss Smith) apologised for the absence of some of the
attractions of Ranelagh and Vauxhall:--

Yet Nature some blessings has scatter’d around;
And means to improve may hereafter be found.

The entertainments under Lowe’s management consisted principally of
concerts in which he himself took a prominent part.[105] The Gardens
were opened at 5 p.m.: the concert began at 6.30, and the admission
was one shilling. In 1765 the concerts included songs from Dr. Boyce’s
“Solomon,” and Mrs. Vincent sang “Let the merry bells go round” by
Handel, accompanied by a new instrument called the Tintinnabula. There
was a new Ode (August 31), called “The Soldier,” “wrote and set to
music by a person of distinction.” In 1767 (August 28), Catches and
Glees were performed.

[Illustration: THOMAS LOWE.]

A wet season, combined, as would appear, with insufficient enterprise,
involved the manager in difficulties, and by a Deed of 15 January,
1768, he assigned to his creditors all the receipts and profits
arising from the Gardens. He retired in 1769, and was glad to accept
an engagement at Finch’s Grotto, though at one period he had been
making, it is said, £1,000 a year. He died 2 March, 1783. Dibdin says
that Lowe’s voice was more mellow and even than that of Beard, but that
“Lowe lost himself beyond the namby-pamby of Vauxhall”; while “Beard
was at home everywhere.”

§4. _Later History of the Gardens._ 1768–1778.

During 1768,[106] the Gardens were carried on by Lowe’s creditors. The
receipts for the season from season-tickets (£1 11_s._ 6_d._ each) and
money at the doors and bars, were £2,085 1_s._ 7½_d._, but the result
was a deficit of £263 10_s._ 3_d._, though the salaries do not appear
to have been excessive. Miss Davis for six nights got three guineas;
Mr. Phillips three guineas; Master Brown four guineas; Werner, harpist
for six nights, two guineas. The Band cost £27 13_s._ a week.

Dr. Samuel Arnold, the musician, became proprietor of the Gardens in
1769; and though he eventually retired (in 1773?) a loser, the Gardens
probably offered more attractions under his management than at any
other period. The weather being wet and cold, the opening of the season
of 1769 was postponed till after the middle of May. The proprietor
sedulously advertised the “very effectual drains” that had been made in
the Gardens, “so that they become very dry and pleasant in a short time
after heavy rains.” A few light showers, moreover, would not hinder the
performances, and when dancing took place there was a covered platform
in the Garden.

The seasons of 1769[107] and 1770 were sufficiently gay. The ordinary
admission at this time, and until the final closing of the gardens
was one shilling, raised to half-a-crown, three shillings or three
shillings and sixpence on the best nights, when the performers had
their benefits. On such nights there were fireworks by Rossi and
Clanfield; the transparent Temple of Apollo was illuminated, and a
ball concluded the entertainment. In 1769 nearly the whole staff took
a benefit, in their turn. Mrs. Forbes, Mr. Hook, Mr. Pinto, Piquenit
the treasurer, the doorkeepers, and finally the waiters. Thomas
Pinto was engaged as leader, James Hook, father of Theodore Hook, as
organist (1769–1772), Mrs. Forbes and Miss Brent (afterwards Mrs.
Pinto) as singers. Hook’s “Love and Innocence,” a pastoral serenata,
was performed for the first time on 10 August (1769), and there were
Odes by Christopher Smart, set to music by Arnold, and an “Ode to the
Haymakers,” by Dr. Arne.

[Illustration:

_Lawrenson pinx^t._ _Evans sculp._

_Published July 1807, by Matthews & Leigh._]

In 1770[108] the leader was F. H. Barthelemon, one of the best known
violinists of his time, and distinguished for his firmness of hand,
and purity of tone. His burletta, “The Noble Pedlar,” was successfully
produced this year. “The Magic Girdle,” and “The Madman,” were also
produced; and the “Serva Padrona,” was revived. On 4 September the
Fourth Concerto of Corelli, with the additional parts for trumpets,
French horns and kettledrums, was performed. In 1771[109] “The Magnet”
was performed (first time, 27 June) and Miss Catley, now principal
singer at Covent Garden, made her re-appearance.

From 1772 to 1774 the productions of Torré[110] the fireworker made
the gardens very popular. Residents in the neighbourhood thought the
fireworks a nuisance, and attacked Torré in the newspapers. Mrs.
Fountayne produced a rocket-case found in her own garden, and in 1772
Arnold, as proprietor, was summoned at Bow Street. He pleaded, however,
a license from the Board of Ordnance, and the fires of Torré continued
to burn bright. Torré’s masterpiece, often repeated at the Gardens, was
called the Forge of Vulcan. After the fireworks were over, a curtain
rose, and discovered Vulcan and the “Cyclops” at the forge behind Mount
Etna. The fire blazed, and Venus entered with Cupid, and begged them to
make arrows for her son. On their assenting, the mountain appeared in
eruption, and a stream of lava poured down its sides.

Numerous singers were engaged for 1772,[111] Charles Bannister,
Reinhold, Mrs. Calvert and others, and the musical entertainments
were “The Divorce,” by Hook; “The Coquet,” by Storace; “The Magnet,”
and “La Serva Padrona.” Bannister gave his clever musical imitations
of well-known singers and of “the Italian, French and German manner of
singing.” At Hook’s Annual Festival on 28 August (1772) “Il Dilettanti”
(by Hook) was given for the first time with choruses by “the young
gentlemen from St. Paul’s Choir.” The pyrotechnic entertainments
included a representation of Cox’s Museum, and a magnificent temple
consisting of “upwards of 10,000 cases of different fires all ...
lighted at the same time.” During the fireworks, martial music was
performed under Hook’s direction in the Temple of Apollo.[112]

In 1773[113] the Gardens were open for three evenings in the week.
Handel’s “Acis and Galatea” was performed (27 May), and Barthelemon’s
“The Wedding Day,” in which “Thyrsis, a gay young swain, is beloved by
Daphne, an antiquated damsel.” Arne conducted his catches and glees at
a concert on 15 September.[114]

In 1774[115] there was music every week-day evening. Several novelties
were introduced, but the fortunes of the Gardens appear to have been
waning. Dr. Arnold’s “Don Quixote” was performed for the first time
on 30 June. The first Fête Champêtre took place in July, but the
newspapers attacked the management for charging five shillings for
an entertainment which consisted of a few tawdry festoons and extra
lamps. Some of the visitors, we are told, “injured the stage and broke
its brittle wares.” One cannot help suspecting that Dr. Johnson was at
the bottom of this outrage: at any rate during a visit of his to the
Gardens at some time between 1772–1774 a similar incident occurred.

Johnson, who had heard of the fame of Torré’s fireworks, went to the
Gardens one evening, accompanied by his friend George Steevens. It was
showery, and notice was given to the few visitors present, that the
fireworks were water-soaked and could not be displayed. “This” (said
Johnson) “is a mere excuse to save their crackers for a more profitable
company. Let us both hold up our sticks and threaten to break those
coloured lamps, ... and we shall soon have our wishes gratified. The
core of the fireworks cannot be injured: let the different pieces be
touched in their respective centres, and they will do their offices
as well as ever.” Some young men standing by indulged in the violence
suggested, but failed to ignite the fireworks. “The author of _The
Rambler_,” as Mr. Steevens judiciously observes, “may be considered,
on this occasion as the ringleader of a successful riot, though not as
a skilful pyrotechnist.” A second Fête Champêtre succeeded better, and
the company did not leave till six in the morning.

During this year (1774), and in 1775 and 1776 the Gardens were open on
Sunday, after five p.m., for a promenade (without music); and sixpence,
returned in tea, coffee, and Ranelagh rolls, was charged for admission.
As far back as 1760 the Gardens had been opened on Sunday, and “genteel
persons were admitted to walk gratis,” and to drink tea there. But this
tea-drinking had been prohibited in 1764. The “Sunday Rambler,” who
visited Marybone Gardens about this time, speaks of them with profound
contempt as a place of tea-table recreation. Nobody was there, the
tablecloths were dirty, and the rubbish for Signor Torré’s fireworks
was left lying about. The Gardens, he adds, were “nothing more than two
or three gravel roads, and a few shapeless trees.”

In the same year (1774) the managers of the Gardens advertised
and opened (6 June) the Marybone Spa. In the winter of 1773 the
City Surveyor, while searching for the City Wells in Marybone, had
discovered in the Gardens a mineral spring. The public were now
admitted to drink this water from six o’clock in the morning. It was
suggested that the waters might be useful for nervous and scorbutic
disorders, but, in any case, “they strengthen the stomach, and promote
a good appetite and a good digestion.”

But the end of Marybone Gardens, as an open-air resort, was rapidly
approaching. In 1775 no concerts appear to have been advertised, though
there were several displays of fireworks by Caillot in June, July, and
August. Already in 1774, one of those profaners of the “cheerful uses”
of the playhouse and the public garden--a lecturer and reciter--had
appeared in the person of Dr. Kenrick (on Shakespeare). The management
had now (June 1775) to rely for the evening’s entertainment on “The
Modern Magic Lantern,” consisting of whimsical sketches of character,
by R. Baddeley the comedian, and on a “Lecture upon mimicry,” by George
Saville Carey. In July, a conjurer was introduced.

In 1776 there was a flicker of the old gaiety. The Forge of Vulcan was
revived in May, and there were fireworks by Caillot. A representation
of the Boulevards of Paris was prettily contrived, the boxes fronting
the ball-room being converted into the shops of Newfangle, the
milliner; Trinket, the toyman; and Crotchet, the music-seller.[116]

The Gardens closed on 23 September, 1776, and were never afterwards
regularly opened. Henry Angelo (_Reminiscences_), referring to the
Marybone Gardens in their later days, says they were “adapted to the
gentry rather than the _haut ton_.” Whatever this distinction may
be worth, it is clear from the comparative paucity of the contemporary
notices that the Marybone Gardens, though a well-known resort, at no
period attained the vogue of Ranelagh, or the universal popularity of
Vauxhall.

About 1778 the site of the Gardens was let to the builders, and the
formation of streets (_see_ § 1) begun. J. T. Smith[117] states
that the orchestra, before which he had often stood when a boy, was
erected on the space occupied by the house in Devonshire Place,
numbered (in 1828) “17.” According to Malcolm, a few of the old trees
of the Gardens were still standing in 1810 at the north end of Harley
Street.

The old Rose of Normandy (with a skittle alley at the back) existed,
little altered, till 1848–1850, when a new tavern was built on its
site. The tavern (still bearing the old name) was subsequently taken by
Sam Collins (Samuel Vagg), the popular Irish vocalist, who converted
its concert-room into a regular music hall, The Marylebone, which
he carried on till 1861, when he parted with his interest to Mr.
W. Botting. The present Marylebone Music Hall (with the public bar
attached to it) fronts the High Street, and standing on the site of the
old Rose of Normandy, from which the Marybone Gardens were entered,
may claim, in a measure, to be evolved from that once famous pleasure
resort.[118]

[Sainthill’s _Memoirs_, 1659 [_Gent. Mag._ vol. 83; p. 524);
advertisements, songs, &c., relating to Marybone Gardens
(1763–1775), Brit. Mus. (840, m. 29); Newspaper advertisements,
songs, &c., in W. Coll. Newspaper cuttings, &c., relating to
London Public Gardens in the Guildhall Library, London; Smith’s
_Book for a Rainy Day_, p. 40, ff.; Thomas Smith’s _Marylebone_;
Blanchard, in _Era Almanack_, 1869, p. 32, ff.; Grove’s
_Dict. of Music_ (1880), art. “Marylebone Gardens,” by W. H.
Husk. Angelo’s _Reminiscences_, ii. p. 3; Timbs’s _Romance of
London_; Walford, iv. 431, ff.; Thomas Harris’s _Historical and
Descriptive Sketch of Marylebone Gardens_, London, 1887.]

VIEWS.

1. A view of Marybone Gardens and orchestra, J. Donnowell del.
1755; published by J. Tinney. Crace, _Cat._ p. 566, No. 74.

2. Modifications of 1, published by R. Sayer, 1755, and by
Bowles and Carver. Crace, _Cat._ p. 566, Nos. 75, 76. Also
1761, published by J. Ryall [W. Coll.].

3. Views of Rose of Normandy. Crace, _Cat._ p. 566, Nos.
79–81; p. 567, No. 82.

THE QUEEN’S HEAD AND ARTICHOKE

In the neighbourhood of the Marylebone Gardens were a few much humbler
places of entertainment, standing in what in the last century was a
rural district; the Queen’s Head and Artichoke, the Jew’s Harp house
and, farther west, the Yorkshire Stingo.

The Queen’s Head and Artichoke was in Marylebone Park, nearly opposite
Portland Road, and about five hundred yards from the north side of the
New Road (Marylebone Road). It was a small and picturesque old inn,
standing in a meadow to which a footpath led, and displaying a portrait
of Queen Elizabeth as its sign. Tradition attributed the building of
the house to a gardener of the Queen, and the curious combination of
the sign was believed to have something to do with this. The inn is
marked in Rocque’s map of 1745, and it probably then possessed, as it
did at the beginning of the present century, a ground for skittles and
“bumble-puppy,” and shady bowers, in which cream, tea and cakes were
served.

It was pulled down about 1811, and the Colosseum afterwards occupied
part of the site. A new tavern was then built near the site of the old
inn, and this is probably identical with the public-house called the
Queen’s Head and Artichoke, which is now No. 30 Albany Street, east
side.

[_Gent. Mag._ 1819, pt. 2, p. 401; Larwood and Hotten, _Hist. of
Signboards_, pp. 311, 312; Walford, v. p. 255; Smith, _Book for
a_

_Rainy Day_; Wheatley, _London P. and P._, s.v. “Jew’s Harp,”
and “Albany Street”; Hone’s _Year Book_, p. 318; Clinch’s
_Marylebone_, pp. 40 and 45.]

VIEWS.

1. A water-colour drawing by Findlay, 1796. Crace, _Cat._
p. 569, No. 104; cp. an engraving of the inn in Walford, v. p.
258, and a small sketch in Clinch’s _Marylebone_, p. 45
(dated 1796).

2. An engraving published in _Gent. Mag._ 1819, pt. 2, p.
401; reproduced in Clinch’s _Marylebone_, facing p. 40.

THE JEW’S HARP HOUSE AND TEA GARDENS

The Jew’s Harp House was in Marylebone Park, a little to the north-west
of the Queen’s Head and Artichoke, from which it was separated by
fields. It is marked in Rocque’s map of 1745, and while still a quiet
inn, is said to have been a favourite haunt of Arthur Onslow, the
famous Speaker (_b._ 1691, _d._ 1768), who used to take his pipe
and glass in the chimney corner. One day when driving to the House
of Commons in his coach, he was recognised by the landlord, and on
his next visit to the inn was welcomed by the family as befitted Mr.
Speaker. His incognito was thus betrayed, and he returned no more.

By 1772 it had become a recognised place of amusement provided with
“bowery tea-gardens,” skittle-grounds,[119] a trap-ball ground
and a tennis court. A large upper room, reached by a staircase
from the outside, was used as a dining-room for large parties and
occasionally for evening dances. Facing the south of the premises was a
semi-circular enclosure with boxes for ale and tea drinking, guarded by
painted deal-board soldiers.

The place was in existence till about 1812, when it was removed for
the formation of Regent’s Park. It stood between the present Broad Walk
of the Park, and the north-east corner of the Botanic Gardens.

[Illustration: JEW’S HARP HOUSE, 1794.]

[J. T. Smith’s _Book for a Rainy Day_, pp. 17, 18 (ed. 1833);
Hone’s _Year Book_, p. 318; Larwood and Hotten, _Signboards_,
pp. 340, 341, where J. T. Smith’s description of the Jew’s Harp,
Marylebone, is wrongly referred to the Jew’s Harp, Islington;
Timbs’s _Club Life_ (1866), ii. p. 236; Chambers’s _Book of
Days_, ii. p. 74; Wheatley’s _London_, s.v. “Jew’s Harp”;
Walford, v. p. 255; Clinch’s _Marylebone and St. Pancras_, p.
48; _Picture of London_, 1802, p. 370.]

VIEWS.

The Jew’s Harp public-house in Marylebone Park. A water-colour
drawing by Bigot, 1794. Crace, _Cat._ p. 569, No. 106; cp.
a sketch in Clinch’s _Marylebone_, p. 48.

THE YORKSHIRE STINGO

The Yorkshire Stingo, a public-house on the south side of the
Marylebone Road, nearly opposite Chapel Street and the entrance to
Lisson Grove, is the modern representative of a rural inn of the same
name that was in existence at least as early as 1733.

From 1770 (or earlier) extensive tea gardens and a bowling green were
attached to the place.[120]

During the first forty years of the present century the gardens were
much frequented by the middle classes, especially on Sundays, when
admittance was by a six-penny ticket including refreshments. For
several years, from about 1790, a fair was held on the first of May at
or near the Yorkshire Stingo, and the May-dance with Jack-in-the-Green
took place.[121] This fair was suppressed as a nuisance in the early
part of the present century.

In 1836 and for a few years following, the Yorkshire Stingo had its
Apollo, or Royal Apollo, Saloon, in which concerts, vaudevilles and
comic burlettas were given every evening.[122] On gala nights, balloon
ascents, fireworks and other entertainments took place in the grounds.
The admission was one shilling.

The tea-gardens and bowling green were closed about 1848, and the
present County Court and the Marylebone Baths and Wash-Houses,[123]
nearly adjoining the present Yorkshire Stingo on the east were built on
their site.

[Thomas Smith’s _Marylebone_, p. 185; Walford, iv. 410; v. 256;
Larwood and Hotten, _Signboards_, p. 384; _Picture of London_,
1802 and 1829; Wheatley’s _London P. and P._ “Yorkshire Stingo.”]

VIEWS.

1. “The Yorkshire Stingo in 1770,” a small sketch in Clinch’s
_Marylebone_, p. 46, showing the tavern and the entrance to
the tea-gardens.

2. View of the new County Court and the Baths and the
Wash-Houses, built upon the ground of the late tea-gardens,
&c., of the Yorkshire Stingo Tavern. A woodcut, 1849. Crace,
_Cat._ p. 567, No. 89.

BAYSWATER TEA GARDENS

The Bayswater Tea Gardens, situated in a region once noted for its
springs and salubrious air, were originally the Physic Garden of “Sir”
John Hill, botanist, playwright, and quack doctor:--

“His farces are physic, his physic a farce is,”

and in this garden he grew the plants for his wonderful Water Dock
Essence and Balm of Honey.

Hill died in 1775, and his garden was (some years before 1795) turned
into a place of amusement, known as the Bayswater Tea Gardens, and much
frequented by the denizens of Oxford Street and neighbourhood.[124]
Views of 1796 show the boxes and arbours, and a family party, more
plebeian than that in George Morland’s “Tea Garden,” in full enjoyment
of their tea. Waiters are bustling about with huge kettles crying
“’Ware kettle, scaldings!”

The Bayswater Tea Gardens are mentioned in the _Picture of
London_, 1823–1829, among those frequented by Londoners of the
middle classes. From about 1836 they appear to have been called the
Flora Tea Gardens, Bayswater.

[Illustration: THE BAYSWATER TEA GARDENS, 1796.]

For the 27th June, 1836, Mrs. Graham was announced to make her ascent
from the gardens at five o’clock, in her silk balloon. In the evening
were fireworks, the admission being one shilling. In August 1839,
Hampton, the aëronaut, made an ascent about seven in the evening
in his Albion balloon from these gardens, which were crowded by “a
fashionable and respectable company.” The balloon moved over the
Kensington Gardens, and Hampton then descended in his safety parachute,
this descent being the feature of the performance. The parachute struck
against a tree and fell. Hampton was extracted from the tackle in a
shaken condition, but was borne on the shoulders of four men into the
Flora Gardens amid loud applause, and a grand display of fireworks
concluded the entertainment.

At a later date the place was called the Victoria Tea Gardens, and
became well known for running matches and other sporting meetings. The
gardens continued open till 1854, but their site, together with that of
Hopwood’s Nursery Grounds, was afterwards (from about 1860) covered by
the houses of Lancaster Gate.

[Art. “Hill John, M.D.” in _Dict. of Nat. Biog._; Lysons’s
_Environs_, iii. p. 331; _Era Almanack_, 1871; Faulkner,
_Kensington_, p. 420; Wheatley, _London P. and P._ s.v.
“Bayswater” and “Lancaster Gate”; Walford, v. pp. 183, 185, 188;
newspaper cuttings, W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

“View of the Tea Gardens at Bayswater,” two oval prints in
Woodward’s _Eccentric Excursions_, plate v. Woodward del.,
J. C. sculp. London, published 1796 by Allen and West.

III

NORTH LONDON GROUP

PANCRAS WELLS

These Wells were situated close to old St. Pancras Church on its south
side. In connection with them was a tavern originally called the Horns,
and its proprietor, Edward Martin, issued in 1697 a handbill setting
forth the virtues of the water, which he declares to have been found
“by long experience” a powerful antidote against rising of the vapours,
also against the stone and gravel. It likewise cleanses the body and
sweetens the blood, and is a general and sovereign help to nature.
For the summer season of this year (beginning on Whit-Monday) Martin
promised to provide dancing every Tuesday and Thursday. The charge
for the “watering” and such other diversions as were obtainable was
threepence.

In 1722 a proprietor of the Wells laments that the credit of the place
had suffered for many years “by encouraging of scandalous company”
(probably some of “the pretty nymphs” mentioned[125] by Thomas Brown)
and by making the Long Room a common dancing room. He promises to
prevent this in the future, and to exclude undesirable characters from
the garden walks.

About 1730 Pancras Wells seem to have regained their reputation; at any
rate they were industriously advertised, and the London print-dealers
sold views of the gardens and the rooms. The water could be obtained
at the pump-room, or a dozen bottles of it might be purchased for
six shillings of Mr. Richard Bristow, goldsmith.[126] At this time,
and for forty or fifty years later, the surroundings of the Wells
were completely rural, and visitors might be seen coming across the
fields by the foot-paths leading from Tottenham Court, Gray’s Inn, and
Islington. The gardens and premises had now (1730) reached their full
extent. Facing the church was the House of Entertainment, and behind
this was the Long Room (sixty feet by eighteen) with the Pump Room at
its west end. The gardens lay further south, in the rear of these and
other buildings. A pleasant stroll might be taken in the New Plantation
or in the shaded, but formal, garden known as the Old Walk. Little is
heard of the Wells during the next thirty or forty years. But in June
1769 the proprietor, John Armstrong, advertised the water as being in
the greatest perfection. The place, however, was probably now chiefly
frequented as a “genteel and rural” tea garden, with its hot loaves,
syllabubs, and milk from the cow. Dinners were also obtainable, and
the powerful refreshments of “neat wines, curious punch, Dorchester,
Marlborough, and Ringwood beers.”

[Illustration: BILL OF PANCRAS WELLS, _circ._ 1730, SHOWING
THE WELLS, AND THE ADAM AND EVE TAVERN NEAR ST. PANCRAS CHURCH.]

According to Lysons, the Pancras water continued in esteem till some
years before 1795, but when he wrote (1795–1811) the Well appears to
have been enclosed in the garden of a private house. Part of the site
of the old Wells and walks was formerly occupied by the houses in
Church Row, but these have been swept away for the premises of the
Midland Railway connected with the St. Pancras Terminus.[127]

[T. Brown’s _Letters from the Dead to the Living_, part ii.
first published 1702, “Moll Quarles to Mother Creswell”;
Dodsley’s _London_, 1761, s.v. “Pancras”; Lysons’s _Environs_,
iii. (1795), p. 381; Supplement (1811), p. 283; _Gent. Mag._
1813, pt. 2, p. 556; _Beauties of England and Wales_, x. part
iv. (1816), p. 175; Clinch’s _Marylebone and St. Pancras_;
Palmer’s _St. Pancras_; Miller’s _St. Pancras_; Roffe’s _St.
Pancras_ (1865), p. 10; Lewis’s _Islington_, p. 37, note;
Walford, v. 339.]

VIEWS.

1. A bird’s-eye view of St. Pancras Wells, showing the garden,
house, &c., the old church, &c., with a description of the
mineral waters. A tinted drawing, 1751, Crace, _Cat._ p. 580,
No. 57. The original engraving is of _circ._ 1730; _see_
Palmer’s _St. Pancras_, p. 246, ff.; Clinch’s _Marylebone_, p.
156; Walford, v. 336.

2. “The south-west view of Pancras Church and Wells.” Chatelain
del., J. Roberts sc., 1750. Crace, _Cat._ p. 579, No. 45; W.
Coll. (Pl. 30 in Chatelain’s _Fifty Views_); also the south-east
view, Chatelain’s _Fifty Views_, pl. 29, with “Adam and Eve.”

3. Pancras Wells. A north view of the garden, house, &c. Copy of
an old drawing, 1775, Crace, _Cat._ p. 580, No. 58.

4. A view of the Long Room at St. Pancras, and the Trap-Ball
Ground. Copy of an old drawing, 1775. Crace, _Cat._ p. 580, No.
59.

5. Colonel Jack robbing Mrs. Smith going to Kentish Town (near
the Wells). W. Jett del., J. Basire sc., 1762. Crace, _Cat._ p.
580, No. 60.

ADAM AND EVE TEA GARDENS, ST. PANCRAS

The Adam and Eve Tavern, situated near the west end of old Saint
Pancras Church, was in existence at least as early as 1730[128],
and is mentioned in 1754[129] as a resort of the London “cit.”
In 1778 it could boast of a long room adorned with gilt-framed
oval pier-glasses;[130] and in 1786 the landlord, Charles Eaton,
advertised[131] the attractions of his gardens and pleasure grounds.

About the beginning of the present century it could still be described
as an agreeable retreat “with enchanting prospects,” and the gardens
were well laid out with arbours, flowers and shrubs. Cows were kept for
making syllabubs, and on summer afternoons a regular company met to
play bowls and trap-ball in an adjacent field. One proprietor fitted
out a mimic squadron of frigates in the garden, and the long room was a
good deal used for bean-feasts, and tea-drinking parties.[132]

In 1803, about three and a half acres of the Adam and Eve tea-gardens
were taken to form the St. Giles-in-the-Fields Cemetery (adjoining the
old St. Pancras Churchyard), though the tavern still lingered on. In
later years (_circ._ 1865–1874) the Adam and Eve was an ordinary
public-house. It still retained (1874) a portion of its old grounds,
which were used by its frequenters for bowl-playing. This ground,
however, was enclosed by a high wall, and was overlooked by the mean
houses that formed Eve Place. The building has since been taken down.

[F. Miller’s _St. Pancras_, pp. 45 and 49; Palmer’s _St.
Pancras_, pp. 244, 245; Roffe’s _St. Pancras_, p. 3; _Picture of
London_, ed. 1802, p. 370; Wheatley’s _London_, III., 20, 22,
23; _see also_ notes.]

VIEWS.

The Adam and Eve is shown in the 1730 view of Pancras Wells,
and in the views of old St. Pancras Church, _e.g._, in the
“South view of the Church of St. Pancras,” printed for Bowles
and Carver (W. Coll.).

THE ASSEMBLY HOUSE, KENTISH TOWN

The Assembly House was in existence in 1725[133] or earlier, and
consisted of a large inn, partly built of wood, with a Long Room on
the south, entered from outside by a covered staircase. This room
for many years continued to be used for dancing by the élite of the
neighbourhood.

By about 1776 the village of Kentish Town had become a somewhat
populous place, and in the summer-time was much resorted to by
Londoners, who took lodgings there, or made brief excursions thither.
In 1788 the Assembly House was taken by a Mr. Thomas Wood, who
specially advertised his trap-ball and skittle-ground, pleasant
summer-house, and extensive garden.

The house was pulled down in 1853, and its site and that of the garden
covered by houses. The Assembly House tavern (No. 298 Kentish Town
Road) and a police station have been built on the baiting ground and
yard that were formerly in front of the old house.

[Miller’s _St. Pancras_, p. 294, ff.; Roffe’s _St. Pancras_, pp.
10, 11; Walford, v. p. 320; Palmer’s _St. Pancras_, p. 62, ff.]

VIEWS.

1. “The Assembly Rooms, Kentish Town, 1750,” Walford, v. p. 313.

2. “The Old Assembly House, Kentish Town,” May 1853; drawn and
etched by W. B. Rye, _Etchings_, London, 1857.

WHITE CONDUIT HOUSE

White Conduit House was originally a small ale-house of the seventeenth
century, and, according to tradition, the workmen who built it were
carousing there to celebrate its completion on the day of the execution
of Charles I.

It derived its name from the water-conduit, faced with white stone,
which stood in a field nearly opposite. In 1731 White Conduit House was
still a one-storied building, but between that date and about 1745 it
was pulled down, or altered,[134] and a Long Room added.

From about 1745 the garden was well laid out, and possessed a circular
fish-pond and a number of pleasant arbours. Robert Bartholomew, the
proprietor in 1754, added a long walk, and, to prevent his visitors
being in the “least incommoded from people in the fields,” constructed
a fence some seven feet in height. Hot loaves, tea, coffee and liquors
‘in the greatest perfection’ were the refreshments offered, and he
assured those who drank his milk, procured directly from the cow, that
his animals “eat no grains.” Cricket was played at this time (1754)
in a meadow adjoining the house; bats and balls being provided by the
proprietor.[135]

The house contained rooms for tea-drinking, and also the Long Room,
from whence “is the most copious prospects and airy situation of any
now in vogue,” a description ungrammatical but correct, for White
Conduit House at this time, and until about 1775, was picturesquely
situated. Standing on rising ground, and environed by pleasant country
lanes and pastures, it commanded towards the north fine views of
Hampstead and Highgate.

In 1774 the gardens at the back of the house were described as being
laid out with several pleasing walks, prettily disposed, with the
pond in the centre, and an avenue of trees. For the accommodation of
the tea-drinkers, there were “genteel boxes” let into the hedges, and
decorated with Flemish paintings. A large painting was placed at the
far end of the avenue, and seemed to increase its length.

Under Robert Bartholomew (who was probably proprietor until his death
in 1766) White Conduit had become a popular tea-garden, and till about
the end of the eighteenth century, its visitors, though never in the
least people of fashion, were on the whole of a respectable class. The
favourite day was Sunday in the spring and summer-time, when large
numbers of holiday-folk crowded the house and gardens. The ‘City prig,’
in white satin waistcoat and scratch wig; the graver man of business,
clad in brown, his wife and family, were persons of consequence here;
while their dependants also spent their holiday at the same place:--

Wish’d Sunday’s come, mirth brightens ev’ry face,
And paints the rose upon the housemaid’s cheek,
Harriot, or Mol, more ruddy. Now the heart
Of ’prentice, resident in ample street,
Or alley, kennel-wash’d, Cheapside, Cornhill,
Or Cranbourne, thee for calcuments renown’d,
With joy distends. His meal meridian o’er
With switch in hand, he to White Conduit House
Hies merry-hearted. Human beings here
In couples multitudinous assemble,
Forming the drollest group that ever trod
Fair Islingtonian plains. Male after male,
Dog after dog succeeding, husbands, wives,
Fathers and mothers, brothers, sisters, friends,
And pretty little boys and girls. Around,
Across, along the gardens’ shrubby maze
They walk, they sit, they stand. What crowds press on,
Eager to mount the stairs, eager to catch
First vacant bench, or chair in long room plac’d.
Here prig with prig holds conference polite,
And indiscriminate the gaudy beau
And sloven mix. Here he who all the week
Took bearded mortals by the nose, or sat
Weaving dead hairs, and whistling wretched strain,
And eke the sturdy youth, whose trade it is
Stout oxen to contund, with gold-bound hat
And silken stocking strut. The red-arm’d belle
Here shows her tasty gown, proud to be thought
The butterfly of fashion.[136]

Curtseys, bows and compliments were the order of the day. A White
Conduit method of effecting an introduction was for the gallant
’prentice to tread on the lady’s train, to apologise profusely, and
finally to suggest an adjournment for tea in one of the arbours. By
five o’clock on a fine Sunday afternoon a seat was hardly procurable;
for the tea-drinking was then in full vigour, and the famous White
Conduit loaves[137] in great request.

Among its frequenters White Conduit House could number Oliver
Goldsmith, who was wont (_circ._ 1768) to call there at tea-time
on his “shoemaker’s holidays.”[138] (cp. Highbury Barn, _infra_).
On one occasion, meeting in the gardens the wife and daughters of a
tradesman to whom he was under some obligation, he treated the ladies
handsomely to refreshments; only to find when the reckoning came, that
his purse was empty.[139] Abraham Newland, the famous cashier of the
Bank of England, was also a visitor at White Conduit, and, at a later
time George Cruikshank[140] made many of his character sketches there.
The visitors came to dread his sketchbook, and children who made faces
were set on their good behaviour by the threat that Mr. Cruikshank
would put them in his book.

In 1794, or earlier, the owner of White Conduit was Mr. Christopher
Bartholomew,[141] a man of considerable means, who did much to improve
the grounds. At one time he owned the freeholds of both the Angel Inn,
Islington, and White Conduit House, and was said to be worth £50,000.
Having won a lottery prize, he gave a public breakfast in the Conduit
gardens “to commemorate the smiles of fortune,” as the invitation
tickets expressed it. Unfortunately his taste for gambling in the
Lottery increased, and soon his entire fortune was squandered, and he
ultimately died in poverty at a mean lodging in March, 1809, at the age
of sixty-eight.

The surroundings of White Conduit House were still agreeable, and in
1803 we find references to the fine prospect, and the mild refreshing
breezes from the abundant hay crops for which the district was noted.
By about 1833, however, brickfields and rows of houses had destroyed
its rural aspect.

Until about the beginning of the present century, White Conduit House
appears to have had no entertainments apart from its tea-gardens,
and from the organ performances[142] in the house. But under the
proprietorship of Sharpe and Warren (from about 1811, or earlier, till
1828) several changes took place. The pond was filled in and planted
over, and a new tea and dancing saloon, dignified by the name of the
Apollo Room, and subsequently converted into a billiard-room, was
erected in the north-west angle of the gardens. The tea-boxes were
enlarged, and the old paintings removed or defaced. A pretty miniature
steeple, set up in the last century, and a maze were still to be
seen in the garden. From about 1825 White Conduit House possessed a
band-stand, and a small stage erected at the north-east end of the
grounds, which were further embellished with fountains and statuary.

Bowls and dutch-pins were played, and archery (in 1827) was a popular
amusement. Balloon-ascents were also a feature; the most important
being those made by Graham (1823–1825); Mrs. Graham (1826); Charles
Green (1828); and John Hampton in 1842, and on 19 August 1844 when
Hampton was accompanied by “Mr. Wells” (Henry Coxwell). In 1824
(September) at a Benefit and Gala Fête thirty kinds of fireworks were
displayed: fiery pigeons flew across the gardens, and two immense
snakes went in pursuit of one another.

In 1825 the place was advertised as “the New Vauxhall: White Conduit
Gardens,” and evening concerts, variety entertainments and firework
displays were given in the grounds. On 21 June of this year, in
commemoration of the Battle of Waterloo, a grand Gala and Rural Fête
took place in the evening, with a concert and fireworks. There was
music in the Quadrille Room and the Country Dance Room; and for dancing
in the Grand Walk, the Pandean band The gardens were illuminated by
variegated lamps; “vigilant officers” were in attendance, and no person
was admitted “in dishabille.” The admission was two shillings.

[Illustration: WHITE CONDUIT HOUSE.]

Chabert,[143] the fire-eater, was here in 1826 (June). After swallowing
arsenic, oxalic acid, boiling oil and molten lead, without, it is said,
feeling any inconvenience, he entered a large heated oven, supported by
four pillars, and there cooked a leg of lamb and a rump steak, which
he proceeded to divide among the spectators. The admission was half a
crown and eighteenpence. In July of this year, Mrs. Bland here made
her last public appearance. This singer,[144] well-known for the sweet
quality of her mezzo-soprano voice and unaffected rendering of English
ballads, was long attached to Drury Lane Theatre, and for several years
appeared at Vauxhall. About 1824 her mind became affected, and on her
recovery she was glad to accept an engagement at an inferior place of
entertainment.

In October 1826 the magistrates in granting the license stipulated that
the music should cease at 11.30 P.M., and that the gardens
should close at 11.45. Masquerades and fireworks were prohibited. These
restrictions, however, appear to have been subsequently withdrawn or
disregarded.

About this period (1826) part of the south side of the gardens was cut
off by the formation of Warren Street; and a few years later (before
1833) a gasometer and a tall chimney disfigured the north-east corner
of the grounds.

The accommodation of White Conduit House having now become
insufficient, a new hotel was contemplated. The first stone was laid
on 2 February 1829, Messrs. Bowles and Monkhouse being then the
proprietors. About the middle of June 1829[145] the new building,
referred to in the bills as “New Minor Vauxhall: White Conduit House,
Hotel and Tavern,” was opened with a concert and ball. It was a tall,
plain structure. Its chief room, a large hall about eighty feet by
sixty, was much used for dances, dinners, and political meetings.

From many of the laudatory press notices, from about 1826 onwards,
it might appear that White Conduit House was a crowded and even
fashionable resort. But this was by no means the case. Surrounding
buildings had spoilt the place, and at this period “Vite Cundick
Couse,” as its Cockney visitors called it, was comparatively
neglected: the chimes of the miniature steeple were silent, and the
gardens had lost their rural charm.

Hone[146] severely describes it as a “starveling show of odd company
and coloured lamps” possessing a mock orchestra with mock singing, and
a dancing room, in which no respectable person would care to be seen.
In 1832 (November) the magistrates refused to grant the license, and in
1834 (15 February) the proprietor was fined £5 for the “rowdy” conduct
of some of the audience. A satirical visitor in 1838[147] ridicules the
vocal attainments of the singers, and the gaudy dresses of the female
performers, whose heads were decorated with blue roses and adorned with
corkscrew curls. The audiences were now composed of the artisan class,
the small shop-keeper, the apprentice and shop lad; with a sprinkling
of lawyers’ clerks recognisable by their long hair, worn-out “four and
ninepenny gossamers,” short trousers, and blucher boots, and by their
conversation, which is described as no less objectionable than their
cabbage-leaf cigars.

From 1830 till the close of the place in 1849 the entertainments,
beginning about 7.30, were of a very varied character; concerts,
juggling, farces and ballets. The admission, occasionally sixpence,
was usually one shilling; half of which was sometimes returned in
refreshments. Ladies and children generally came in half price. A
diorama, and moonlight view of Holyrood were exhibited in 1830; and
about the same time Miss Clarke made one of her ascents upon an
inclined rope attached to a platform above the highest trees in the
garden, reaching this eminence “amidst a blaze of light.” Here, too, in
1831 (August), and also in 1836 and 1837, Blackmore of Vauxhall made
some of his “terrific ascents.” A play of T. Dibdin’s entitled the
‘Hog in Armour’ was performed in 1831 (April), and Charles Sloman, the
clever impromptu versifier, appeared in August and September 1836.

In 1839 Breach the proprietor, who exerted himself in popularising the
house, placed its amusements under the management of John Dunn,[148]
styled the English Jim Crow on account of his imitations of T. D. Rice
in “Jump Jim Crow.” In 1841 a large painting of Windsor Castle and the
park-troops was placed at the end of the centre (then denominated the
Chinese) walk; and in 1842 (July and August), a Mr. Bryant being the
landlord, Batty’s Circus was engaged.

In 1843 R. Rouse was the proprietor, and in these later years the
amusements of White Conduit House gradually deteriorated, until they
were terminated on 22 January, 1849, by a Ball given for the benefit of
the check-takers. Three days afterwards the demolition of the house was
begun, and it was soon levelled for a new line of streets, the present
White Conduit public-house being erected on part of the site.

The gardens had extended from Penton Street, in an easterly direction,
to White Conduit Street, now called Cloudesley Road. Albert Street
now approximately marks their southern boundary; and Denmark Road the
northern limit.

[Fillinham’s collection relating to White Conduit House in Brit.
Mus.; Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_; Walford’s _Old and New London_;
Wheatley’s _London P. & P._; Lewis’s Islington; Tomlins’s
_Peramb. of Islington_; Cromwell’s _Islington_; Hone’s _Every
Day Book_, vol. ii. p. 1201, ff.; _Mirror_, 1833, vol. xxi.
p. 426; Nelson’s _Islington_; Brayley’s _Londiniana_; _Era
Almanack_, 1871; newspaper cuttings in W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

The Crace, Fillinham, and other collections contain numerous
views, from which the following may be selected:--

1. South view of White Conduit House in Lempriere’s Set of
Views, 1731; reproduced in Lewis’s _Islington_ and Pinks’s
_Clerkenwell_.

2. White Conduit House, 1749. Engraving in Knight’s _Old
England_, vol. ii. fig. 2,402.

3. White Conduit House near Islington (_circa_ 1771). A
print, Crace, _Cat._ No. 200.

4. White Conduit House in the last century (_circa_ 1780).
A woodcut, Crace, _Cat._ No. 201.

5. The Old White Conduit Tea Gardens, Islington. Coloured view,
1822 (W. Coll.).

6. Old White Conduit House Tea Gardens. Sepia drawing, signed C.
H. M. Fillinham Coll. p. 46.

7. White Conduit House Tavern and Tea Gardens, 1828. Engraved
heading of a White Conduit bill. Fillinham Coll.

8. General View of the Gardens, White Conduit House. Fillinham
Coll. p. 46.

9. White Conduit House. Engraving in Cromwell’s
_Clerkenwell_, p. 216.

10. White Conduit Gardens from Islington Terrace. Sepia drawing,
signed C. H. M. 1829. Fillinham Coll. p. 46.

11. Old White Conduit House. P. H. D. 1831, engraved in Rogers’s
_Views of Pleasure Gardens of London_, p. 53 (showing
balloon and old conduit).

12. The White Conduit Gardens, north view. Sepia drawing by C.
H. Matthews, 1832. Crace, _Cat._ No. 204.

13. View in Gardens showing stage, &c. Water-colour drawing,
signed I. F., June 2, 1832. Fillinham Coll. p. 48.

14. A view in the Gardens of White Conduit House with the
rope-dancing and fireworks. Sepia drawing, 1848. Crace,
_Cat._ No. 207; cp. Ashton’s _The Fleet_.

15. White Conduit House, Hotel and Tavern. North-west view
of front. A water-colour drawing by Matthews, 1849. Crace,
_Cat._ No. 208.

16. Bird’s-eye view of the gardens of White Conduit House, taken
from the balcony. A coloured drawing by Mr. Crace, 1849. Crace,
_Cat._ No. 209.

DOBNEY’S BOWLING GREEN, OR PROSPECT HOUSE

Dobney’s Bowling Green, or, as it was originally called, Prospect
House, stood on a portion of the site of Winchester Place (now part of
Pentonville Road) near to the south-east corner of Penton Street, and
opposite the New River Reservoir. It was in existence as early as the
seventeenth century, a Mr. Ireland being rated in 1669[149] for “the
Prospect.”

Prospect House, standing on Islington Hill, derived its name from the
fine views that it commanded, and in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries was a vantage-ground from which artists often sketched St.
Paul’s and the Metropolis. It possessed good bowling greens probably as
early as 1633, and in the spring of 1718 these were advertised as open
for the accommodation of all gentlemen bowlers.

Later on, the place was called Dobney’s (or D’Aubigney’s) Bowling
Green House, from the name of its proprietor, whose widow, Mrs. Ann
Dobney, also kept the place for many years.[150] She was succeeded by
a Mr. Johnson, who called the place Johnson’s Prospect and Bowling
Green House. He converted the bowling green, which was near the
corner of Penton Street, into an _al fresco_ amphitheatre, and
in 1767 engaged the equestrian Price[151] who drew large audiences
by his performances, which lasted during the spring and summer
season, beginning at six o’clock. Price is said to have made, by his
exhibitions at Dobney’s and elsewhere, a fortune of £14,000.

[Illustration: “A REPRESENTATION OF THE SURPRISING
PERFORMANCES OF MR. PRICE” AT DOBNEY’S. _Circ._ 1767.]

In 1769 Philip Jonas performed there feats of manual dexterity, and
the exhibition of the skeleton of a whale, three score feet long,
was reckoned an attraction. In 1770, the house was occupied as a
boarding-school by the Rev. John Davis, but the place was soon again
re-opened as the Jubilee Gardens, in allusion to the Stratford Jubilee
of Shakespeare.

In 1772, Daniel Wildman, an expert in bee-keeping, gave on summer
evenings a curious performance called “Bees on horse-back,” described
as follows:--

“Daniel Wildman rides standing upright, one foot on the saddle, and the
other on the horse’s neck, with a curious mask of bees on his face.
He also rides standing upright on the saddle with the bridle in his
mouth, and by firing a pistol makes one part of the bees march over a
table, and the other part swarm in the air, and return to their places
again.” This performance, together with other entertainments, began
at a quarter before seven, and the admission was one shilling, or two
shillings to the boxes and gallery.

In 1774, the gardens were still open, but in a much neglected
condition, as the walks were not kept in order nor the hedges properly
cut. There were, however, at this time several good apartments in the
house and two tea-rooms on the north side of the bowling green, built
one above the other, and Dobney’s (as it was still popularly called)
was a favourite Sunday resort of the London apprentice:--

On Sabbath day who has not seen
In colours of the rainbow dizened,
The ’prentice beaux and belles, I ween,
Fatigued with heat, with dust half-poisoned,
To Dobney’s strolling, or Pantheon,
Their tea to sip or else regale,
As on their way they shall agree on,
With syllabubs or bottled ale.[152]

In 1780, we hear of lectures and debates taking place in the house;
but in 1781 “the lease and trade of the Shakespeare Tavern and Jubilee
Gardens, formerly called Dobney’s Bowling Green,” were offered for sale
by auction. At that time, according to the auctioneer’s advertisement,
Dobney’s consisted of a dwelling house, a building containing a
bake-house, kitchens, &c., with an adjoining erection comprising two
spacious rooms, capable of dining near two hundred people each, a
trap-ball ground, bowling green and “extensive gardens properly laid
out.”

The place, however, ceasing to be frequented, the ground was, about
1790, partly built over with the houses forming Winchester Place.
The gardens, or a part of them, remained until 1810, when they
disappeared.[153] Dobney’s Court, an alley on the east side of Penton
Street, now occupies a small part of the original site.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_; Nelson’s _Islington_; Lewis’s
_Islington_; _Sunday Ramble_; Tomlins’s _Perambulation of
Islington_, pp. 160, 187; _Memoirs of De Castro_, p. 29.]

VIEWS.

1. A drawing of Prospect House taken about 1780 was at one time
in the possession of Mr. Upcott (_Notes and Queries_, 1st
series, ix. 1854, p. 572).

2. “A representation of the surprising performances of Mr.
Price,” engraved for the _Universal Museum and Comp. Mag._
(_circ._ 1767), W. Coll.

BELVIDERE TEA GARDENS, PENTONVILLE ROAD

The Belvidere tavern and tea gardens in the Pentonville Road, at the
south-west corner of Penton Street, occupied the site of Busby’s Folly,
itself a house of entertainment with a bowling green attached to it.
Busby’s Folly, which was in existence at least as early as 1664,[154]
afterwards (between 1731 and 1745) acquired the name of Penny’s Folly.

In August 1769, Penny’s Folly was taken by a German named Zucker, who
exhibited there his Learned Little Horse, while Mrs. Zucker played
favourite airs on the musical glasses, and “the so-much admired
and unparalleled Mr. Jonas” displayed his “matchless and curious
deceptions.” The entertainment began at 6.30, and took place in a large
room commanding a “delightful prospect” from its fourteen windows. The
admission was one shilling, and it was announced that “The Little Horse
will be looking out of the windows up two pair of stairs every evening
before the performances begin.”

The performances of Zucker had already been for some years in repute
with holiday folk, and in 1762 he had received honourable mention in a
prologue spoken at the Haymarket Theatre:--

How dull, methinks, look Robin, Sue and Nancy
At Greenwich Park did nothing strike your fancy;
Had you no cheese-cakes, cyder, shrimps or bun,
Saw no wild beastis, or no jack-ass run?
Blest Conduit House! what raptures does it yield;
And hail, thou wonder of a Chelsea field!
Yet Zucker still amazingly surpasses
Your Conduit-house, your pigmy, and your asses.[155]

Penny’s Folly was afterwards pulled down and the Belvidere tavern came
into existence about 1780.

In the early part of the present century, and probably twenty years
earlier, the Belvidere possessed a bowling green, and a large
garden, with many trees and plenty of accommodation for tea-drinking
parties. The chief attraction was a large racket-court. The garden
and racket-court continued to be frequented till 1860 or later. In
1876, the Belvidere was rebuilt and is now used as a public-house,
the garden, or part of it, being occupied by the pianoforte works of
Messrs. Yates.

[Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_, 531–533; Tomlins’s _Perambulation of
Islington_, 40, 41, 163, 164; _Picture of London_, 1802, p. 370.]

VIEWS.

1. South front of Busby’s Folly, one of C. Lempriere’s Set of
Views, 1731 (woodcut in Pinks, p. 530); cp. woodcut in Tomlins’s
_Perambulation of Islington_, p. 164, and a water-colour
drawing by C. H. Matthews in Crace, _Cat._ p. 606, No. 212.

2. The Belvidere Gardens, early in the present century, woodcut
in Cromwell’s _Clerkenwell_ (1828), p. 414, J. and H. S.
Storer del. et sculp. (copied in Pinks, p. 531).

3. The “Belvidere Gardens at the present time” (_circ._
1860?), Pinks, p. 532.

THE CASTLE INN AND TEA-GARDENS, COLEBROOKE ROW, ISLINGTON

The Castle Inn is mentioned in 1754 as a Sunday resort of the London
“cit.,” who frequented it in the evening to smoke his pipe and obtain
the light refreshment of cyder and heart-cakes. The house must have
stood nearly alone till 1768, when the oldest portion of the street
called Colebrooke Row was built. The Castle Inn, with its tea gardens,
was then the last house but one at the northern end of the Row.[156]
A pleasant nursery garden occupied, till about 1822, six acres of the
ground in the rear of Colebrooke Row.

The inn and tea gardens were still in existence about 1772, but the
house had ceased to be a place of public entertainment at the time when
Nelson published his _Islington_, _i.e._ 1811.

[_The Connoisseur_, No. 26 (1754); Nelson’s _Islington_ (1811),
p. 385; Lewis’s _Islington_ (1842), pp. 351, 352.]

THREE HATS, ISLINGTON

The Three Hats was a picturesque old inn standing in the Upper Street,
Islington, a few doors from the corner of the Liverpool Road and on the
site of the present Islington branch of the London and County Bank.

It first became known as a place of amusement in 1758, when, in the
field adjoining, Thomas Johnson, “the Irish Tartar,” one of the
earliest equestrian performers in England, made his _début_. He
galloped round the field standing first on one horse, then on a pair,
then on three horses. At one time he rode the single horse standing
on his head, but as this posture “gave pain to the spectators” he
discontinued it. His feats seem to have been of a simpler kind than
those afterwards performed by the rider Price at Dobney’s in 1767.
One of Johnson’s performances at the Three Hats (17 July, 1766) took
place in the presence of the Duke of York and of about five hundred
spectators.

In the spring of 1767 Johnson was succeeded by the equestrian Sampson,
who announced his appearance at five o’clock at a commodious place
built in a field adjoining the Three Hats. “A proper band of music”
was engaged for this entertainment. In the summer of this year
Sampson introduced his wife into his entertainment, and inserted the
following advertisement in the _Public Advertiser_ for 23 July:
“Horsemanship at Dingley’s, Three Hats, Islington. Mr. Sampson begs
to inform the public that besides the usual feats which he exhibits,
Mrs. Sampson, to diversify the entertainment and prove that the fair
sex are by no means inferior to the male, either in courage or agility,
will this and every evening during the summer season perform various
exercises in the same art, in which she hopes to acquit herself to the
universal approbation of those ladies and gentlemen whose curiosity may
induce them to honour her attempt with their company.”

[Illustration: JOHNSON AT THE THREE HATS, 1758.]

The Three Hats had other attractions besides the horsemanship and
at least as early as 1768 had become a favourite Sunday resort. In
Bickerstaffe’s comedy the “Hypocrite,” published in 1768, Mawworm
says: “Till I went after him (Dr. Cantwell) I was little better than
the devil. My conscience was tanned with sin like a piece of neat’s
leather, and had no more feeling than the sole of my shoe, always
aroving after fantastical delights. I used to go every Sunday evening
to the Three Hats at Islington--mayhap your ladyship may know it. I
was a great lover of skittles, but now I can’t bear them.”

Sampson’s performances still continued in 1770 and additional
diversions were occasionally provided: “At the Three Hats, Islington,
this day, the 1st of May (1770) will be played a grand match at that
ancient and much renowned manly diversion called Double Stick by a sett
of chosen young men at that exercise from different parts of the West
country, for two guineas given free; those who brake the most heads to
bear away the prize.” “To begin precisely at four.” “Before the above
mentioned diversion begins, Mr. Sampson and his young German will
display alternately on one, two, and three horses, various surprising
and curious feats of famous horsemanship in like manner as at the Grand
Jubilee at Stratford-upon-Avon. Admittance one shilling each person.”

In 1771 Sampson was under a cloud--he is said to have been ensnared
“into gay company” by Price, his rival at Dobney’s--and sold his horses
to Coningham, who performed in the evening at the Three Hats (1771
and 1772), and was announced as follows:--“First: He rides a gallop,
standing upright on a single horse, three times round the room without
holding. Second: He rides a single horse on full speed, dismounts,
fires a pistol, and performs the boasted feat of Hughes’s leaping over
him backwards and forwards for forty times without ceasing; also flies
over three horses on full speed, leaps over one and two horses on
full speed as they leap the bar, plays a march on the flute, without
holding, upon two horses, standing upright.” It was also announced
that “Mr. and Mrs. Sampson, Mr. Brown, &c., will perform to make these
nights the completest in the kingdom. The Tailor and Sailor upon the
drollest horses in the kingdom. The doors to be opened exactly at five,
and to mount at a quarter to five. Admittance in the front seats two
shillings, and the back seats one. Mr. Coningham will engage to fly
through a hogshead of fire upon two horses’ backs, without touching
them, and, for a single person, will perform activity with any man in
the world.”

In 1772 Sampson resumed his performances at the Riding School of the
Three Hats and gave lessons there. On Whit Monday some other curious
attractions were advertised in the _Gazetteer_ (June 6, 1772): “A
young gentleman will undertake to walk and pick up one hundred eggs
(each egg to be the distance of one yard apart) and put them in a
basket within an hour and fifteen minutes; if any egg breaks he puts
down one in its place, for a wager of ten guineas. And on Whitsun
Tuesday will be run for an holland shift by a number of smart girls,
six times round the School.”

About this period the riding seems to have come to an end,[157]
though the Three Hats continued for many years to be a favourite
tea-garden until the ground at the back of the house was built over.
The _Morning Chronicle_ gives us a glimpse of the place in 1779
(21 July): “Yesterday morning upwards of twenty fellows who were
dancing with their ladies at the Three Hats, Islington, were taken
by the constables as fit persons to serve his Majesty, and lodged in
Clerkenwell Bridewell, in order to be carried before the commissioners.”

On 6 January, 1839, a fire (which destroyed two neighbouring houses) so
damaged the roof of the Three Hats, then a mere public-house, that in
April of the same year the whole place was demolished, and the present
branch office of the London and County Bank was erected on the site.

[Lewis’s _Islington_; Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_.]

VIEWS.

1. Engraving of Three Hats and other old houses adjacent, in
_Gent. Mag._ 1823, pt. 2, frontispiece; cp. p. 113.

2. A sepia drawing by C. H. Matthews, 1839. Crace, _Cat._
p. 596, No. 110.

3. Engraving in the _Grand Magazine_, showing Johnson’s
equestrian feats, 1758, W. Coll.; cp. Crace, _Cat._ p. 596,
No. 108.

BARLEY MOW TEA HOUSE AND GARDENS, ISLINGTON

The Barley Mow Tea House and Gardens were on the west side of Frog
Lane, now Popham Road, Islington. They are first mentioned in
1786.[158] About 1799, the Barley Mow was kept as a public-house by
a man named Tate, and George Morland lived there for several months,
indulging in drinking and low company, but finding time to paint some
good pictures which he generally sold for small sums. He often borrowed
for sketching purposes old harness and saddles from a farm-house
opposite, and was wont “to send after any rustic-looking character”
to obtain a sitting. The Barley Mow has been used as a public-house
to the present time, and is now No. 31, Popham Road, but it has been
modernised, or rebuilt, and the garden has disappeared.

[Nelson’s _Islington_, 128, 197; Cromwell’s _Islington_, p. 194,
ff.; Lewis’s _Islington_, 154, ff.; Walford, ii. 262; _Morning
Herald_, 22 April, 1786.]

CANONBURY HOUSE TEA GARDENS

The Canonbury House tea-gardens, a quiet and unpretending resort of
Londoners, derive a certain antiquarian interest from their situation
within the ancient park attached to Canonbury House, the mansion built
by the Priors of St. Bartholomew’s, Smithfield, for their summer
residence. Houses in Canonbury Place, first erected about 1770, occupy
the site of the old mansion, though a substantial relic still exists in
Canonbury Tower, built in the sixteenth century, and during the last
century let out for summer lodgings to various tenants, the best known
of whom was Oliver Goldsmith.

About 1754 a small ale-house was built by a Mr. Benjamin Collins on the
eastern side of the mansion. This afterwards came into the possession
of James Lane, who made additions to the premises, utilising, it would
seem, a range of tiled outhouses on the east of the house which were
supposed to have originally been its stables.

The place had a good reputation and became much frequented as a
tea-garden under the name of Canonbury House. Lane died in 1783, and
about 1785 the tavern was taken by a Mr. Sutton, who died soon after,
leaving the premises to his wife.

The “Widow Sutton” enlarged the tavern, which was then known as
Canonbury House Tavern (or Canonbury Tavern), laid out a bowling green
and improved the tea-gardens. The house was much used for the dinners
of Societies.

The gardens, which at this time occupied about four acres, were almost
entirely situated within the old park wall of the Priors of St.
Bartholomew’s, and the wall on the east divided them from the open
fields. The old fish-pond of the Priors was also connected.

The _Sunday Ramble_ describes Canonbury House in 1797 as “a place
of decent retreat for tea and sober treatment.” In 1810 an Assembly was
established at the tavern, and about 1811 the grounds consisted of a
shrubbery and bowling green with Dutch-pin and trap-ball grounds and
butts for ball-firing used by the Volunteers. The old tiled outhouses
were used as a bake-house for the pastry and rolls till 1840, when they
were pulled down.

About 1823 the builders had invaded the rural neighbourhood of
Canonbury, but the tea-gardens continued to be frequented as a pleasant
resort till 1843, or later.

At sometime between 1843 and 1866 the Canonbury Tavern was rebuilt. It
now stands on the north side of Canonbury Place, a little to the east
of Canonbury Tower and on the opposite side of the road.

A garden, though not of the old dimensions, is still attached to the
tavern and open to the public during the summer.

[Nichols’s _Canonbury_, 1788, 33; _The Ambulator_, 1st ed. 1774,
s.v. “Canonbury House”; Kearsley’s _Strangers’ Guide_ (1793?),
s.v. “Canonbury or Cambray House”; _A Modern Sabbath_, 1797,
chap. vii.; Nelson’s _Islington_, 252; Brayley’s _Londiniana_,
iii. 269, ff.; _Picture of London_, eds. 1802 and 1829; Lewis’s
_Islington_, p. 310; Timbs’s _Club Life_, 1866, ii. 228.]

VIEWS.

Exterior of Canonbury Tavern (north view), a small engraving
published in 1819 by R. Ackermann (W. Coll.); Crace, _Cat._
p. 602, No. 174.

COPENHAGEN HOUSE

Copenhagen House stood alone on an eminence in the fields, on the
right-hand side of Maiden Lane, the old way leading from Battle Bridge
to Highgate, being about midway between those places.[159]

It is known to have been a house of public entertainment in 1725[160]
and was probably one much earlier, seeing that the oldest part of the
building was in the style of the seventeenth century. “Coopen-hagen” is
marked in a map of 1695.[161]

There are various accounts of the origin of the the name. A Danish
Prince or a Danish Ambassador is said to have resided in the house
during the Great Plague. Or, again, an enterprising Dane is said to
have built the inn for the accommodation of his countrymen who had come
to London in the train of the King of Denmark on his visit to James I.
in 1606.[162] In the early part of the eighteenth century Copenhagen
House is not often mentioned, though the curious Highbury Society[163]
used to assemble here previous to the year 1740, when it began to meet
at Highbury.

[Illustration: South East View _of_ Copenhagen House.

_London: Printed for R. Sayer and J. Bennett, Map and Printsellers,
N^o. 53 Fleet Street, as the Act directs, 20th March, 1783_]

In 1780 a brutal robbery[164] of which the landlady, Mrs. Harrington,
was the victim, attracted attention to the place. A subscription was
opened for her benefit, and visitors came in such numbers that Mr.
Leader, the owner of the House, pulled down the old wooden building
attached to its western end, and built in its stead a long room for
tea-drinking parties, with a large parlour below for drinking and
smoking. There were gardens attached, with the usual accommodation for
skittles and Dutch-pin playing.

Under Mrs. Harrington’s management, Copenhagen House first became
celebrated for its Fives Courts. A young Shropshire woman (afterwards
Mrs. Tomes) who assisted Mrs. Harrington, gave Hone an interesting
little account of the introduction of the game:--“I made the first
fives ball (she said) that was ever thrown up against Copenhagen
House. One Hickman, a butcher at Highgate, a countryman of mine,
used the house, and seeing me ‘country,’ we talked about our country
sports, and amongst the rest, _fives_: I told him we’d have a
game some day. I laid down the stone in the ground myself, and against
he came again, made a ball. I struck the ball the first blow, and he
gave it the second, and so we played; and as there was company they
liked the sport, and it got talked of. This was the beginning of the
_fives-play_, which has since become so famous at Copenhagen
House.”

John Cavanagh (_d._ 1819), the famous Irish fives player, had many
matches at Copenhagen House for wagers and dinners. The wall against
which the combatants played was (says Hone) the same that supported the
kitchen chimney, and when the wall resounded louder than usual, the
cook exclaimed, “Those are the _Irishman’s_ balls,” and the joints
trembled on the spit. Hazlitt, in a pleasant memoir of Cavanagh,[165]
says that he had no equal in the game or second. He had no affectation
in his playing. He was the best up-hill player in the world, and
never gave away a game through laziness or conceit. His “service” was
tremendous, but a peculiarity of his play was that he never volleyed,
though if the ball rose but an inch from the ground he never missed it.
“His eye,” adds Hazlitt, “was certain, his hand fatal, his presence of
mind complete.”

In 1795 the house was kept by Robert Orchard, notorious for his
connexion with the London Corresponding Society, which at that time
held tumultuous meetings in the adjoining Copenhagen Fields. Orchard
was succeeded by a man named Tooth, who gained custom by encouraging
brutal sports. At this time, “on a Sunday morning, the fives ground
was filled by bull-dogs and ruffians, who lounged and drank to
intoxication: so many as fifty or sixty bull-dogs have been seen tied
up to the benches at once, while their masters boozed and made match
after match, and went out and fought their dogs before the house, amid
the uproar of idlers attracted to the ‘bad eminence’ by its infamy.”

There was also a common field, east of the house, wherein bulls were
baited, and this was called the bull-field. At last the magistrates
interfered, and in 1816 Tooth lost his license. The next landlord, a
Mr. Bath, conducted the house respectably, and refused admittance to
the bull-dogs. The bull-field was afterwards used for the harmless
purpose of cow-keeping.

From about this period (1816–1830) Copenhagen House was a favourite
Sunday tea-garden with the middle-classes[166] who flocked there,
especially in the summer-time during the hay harvest in the fields
around.[167] Although the builders were making their way up to
Copenhagen House from London on the south, it still commanded an
extensive view of the metropolis and western suburbs, with the heights
of Hampstead and Highgate, “and the rich intervening meadows.” In
1841[168] the tavern and tea-gardens were still in existence, and the
space between them and Highgate was still open fields. Attached to the
house at that time was a well known cricket ground.[169]

About 1852 the Corporation of London purchased Copenhagen House with
its grounds and adjacent fields to the extent of about seventy-five
acres, and began to build there the present Metropolitan Cattle Market,
between the York and Caledonian Roads, which was opened in 1855. The
old tavern (pulled down in 1853[170]) and tea-gardens were thus swept
away, and their site is approximately marked by the Great Clock Tower
in the market.[171]

[Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i. 858, ff.; Nelson’s _Islington_;
Lewis’s _Islington_; Larwood and Hotten, _Signboards_, 435, 436;
Walford, ii. 275, 276, 283; v. 374; Tomlins’s _Perambulation of
Islington_, 204, 205.]

VIEWS.

1. Copenhagen House, Islington, as it appeared in 1737, sepia
drawing by Bernard Lens. Crace, _Cat._ p. 604, No. 191.

2. South-east view of Copenhagen House, printed for R. Sayer and
J. Bennett, 20 March, 1783 (W. Coll.); the woodcut in Lewis’s
_Islington_, p. 283, is derived from this.

3. Copenhagen House, Islington. J. Swaine del. 1793; J. Swaine,
sculp. 1854. Woodcut (W. Coll.).

4. There are several views of Copenhagen House in the nineteenth
century, see _e.g._ Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i. 858;
Cromwell’s _Islington_, p. 204; Crace, _Cat._ p. 605,
Nos. 194, 196 (views of 1853).

5. “The Grand Meeting of the Metropolitan Trades’ Unions in the
Copenhagen Fields on Monday, April 21, 1834.” Coloured engraving
by Geo. Dorrington (W. Coll.). This shows Copenhagen House and
an enormous concourse in the fields.

HIGHBURY BARN

Highbury Barn Tavern with its gardens is, like the Canonbury House
Tavern and gardens, rooted in a respectable antiquity, for it stood on
the site of Highbury Barn[172] which formed part of the farm attached
to the old country seat[173] of the Prior of the Knights of St. John of
Jerusalem.

Highbury Barn (the tavern) was originally a small cake and ale
house which was in existence at least as early as 1740[174]. It was
occasionally (about 1768) honoured by a visit from Oliver Goldsmith on
one of his Shoemaker’s holidays. Goldsmith and three or four of his
friends would leave his Temple chambers in the morning and proceed by
the City Road and through the fields to Highbury Barn, where at one
o’clock they enjoyed a dinner of two courses and pastry, at the cost
of tenpence a head including the waiter’s penny. The company then to
be met with at the inn consisted of Templars and literary men, and a
citizen or two retired from business. At about six, Goldsmith and his
party adjourned to the White Conduit House for tea, and ended the day
with supper at the Globe or Grecian.

The trade of the place greatly increased under the management of Mr.
Willoughby, who, dying in December 1785, was succeeded by his son. The
younger Willoughby (landlord 1785–1818?)[175] laid out the gardens,
bowling green and trap-ball ground.[176] A large barn belonging to
the neighbouring Highbury Farm (or Grange) was incorporated with the
premises and fitted up suitably for a Great Room. Here a monthly
assembly subscribed to in the neighbourhood was held in the spring
and winter and monster dinner-parties of clubs and societies were
accommodated. In 1800 a company of eight hundred persons sat down to
dinner, and seventy geese were to be seen roasting on the fire. Three
thousand people were accommodated at the Licensed Victuallers’ Dinner
in 1841.

About 1793 the garden commanded an extensive prospect, and as late as
1842 Highbury could be described as “a beautifully situated hamlet.”

[Illustration: HIGHBURY BARN IN 1792.]

In 1818 the property was purchased by the former proprietor of the
Grove House, Camberwell, and Highbury Barn was much resorted to as
a Sunday tea-garden (_circ._ 1823–1830). The place then passed
(before 1835) into the hands of John Hinton (previously landlord of
the Eyre Arms, St. John’s Wood) who with his son Archibald Hinton,
ultimately the sole proprietor, gave new life to the place and made
Highbury Barn a kind of North London Cremorne. By about 1854 the number
of monster dinner-parties and bean-feasts had much fallen off, and on
Whit-Monday of that year Hinton opened his establishment for musical
entertainments with a performance by the band of the Grenadier Guards.

A license for dancing was granted in October 1856, and in July 1858 a
Leviathan dancing platform, with an orchestra at one end, was erected
in the grounds. It was open to the sky with the exception of one side,
which consisted of a roofed structure of ornamental ironwork. The whole
platform occupied four thousand feet. A standard of gas lamps in the
centre of the platform and lamps placed round its railing lit up the
place in the evening, when the gardens were frequented by large masses
of people. In a more secluded part of the gardens was an avenue of
trees, flanked by female statues, each holding a globular gas lamp.
About 1858 the admission was sixpence, and at this time Highbury Barn
was much frequented on Sunday evenings, when little parties might be
seen on the lawn before the Barn or in the bowers and alcoves by its
side. The gardens occupied five acres.

Archibald Hinton gave up possession in 1860; and in 1861 Edward
Giovanelli opened Highbury Barn, after having improved the grounds
and erected a spacious hall for a ball and supper room. In 1862 Miss
Rebecca Isaacs and Vernon Rigby were the principal singers, and Leotard
the gymnast was engaged for the summer season. On 20 May 1865 the
Alexandra Theatre was opened in the grounds, but the entertainments
in the gardens were also continued. “The splendid Illuminations”
were boldly advertised, and Blondin (1868), Natator the man-frog,
and the Siamese Twins were engaged (1869). The riotous behaviour,
late at night, of many frequenters of the gardens caused annoyance
to the neighbours, who regularly opposed the renewal of the license.
In October 1870 the dancing license was refused, and next season Mr.
E. T. Smith took the place of Giovanelli as manager, but the license
being again refused in October 1871, Highbury Barn was finally closed.
The flowerbeds became choked with grass and weeds, and nightshade
luxuriated around the dismantled orchestra. By the spring of 1883 the
place had been covered with buildings, and a large public-house, the
Highbury Tavern (No. 26, Highbury Park N.), on part of the old site,
alone commemorates this once popular resort.

[Nelson’s _Islington_; Cromwell’s _Islington_; Lewis’s
_Islington_; Tomlins’s _Perambulation of Islington_; Kearsley’s
_Strangers’ Guide_; Walford, ii. 273. ff.; Forster’s _Life of
Goldsmith_, bk. iv. chap. 2; _Picture of London_, 1802, 1823 and
1829; Ritchie’s _Night-side of London_ (1858); _Era Almanack_,
1871, pp. 3, 4; M. Williams’s _Some London Theatres_, 1883, p.
33, ff.; newspaper cuttings and bills, W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

1. Highbury Barn (gabled buildings), an etching from a drawing
by B. Green, 1775 (W. Coll.).

2. Highbury Assembly House, near Islington, kept by Mr.
Willoughby, 1792, print published in 1792 by Sayer (W. Coll.;
also Crace. _Cat._ p. 603, No. 182).

3. “Highbury Barn, Islington,” engraving published May 1, 1819,
for R. Ackermann.

4. Highbury Barn (exterior) (_circ._ 1835), engraving in
Cromwell’s _Islington_, p. 247, J. and H. S. Storer, del.
et. sc.

5. “The Leviathan Platform, Highbury Barn,” woodcut in
_Illustrated London News_, July 1858.

6. Two views of “The Gardens, Highbury Barn Tavern”
(_circ._ 1851), in Tallis’s _Illustrated London_, ed.
Gaspey.

THE DEVIL’S HOUSE, HOLLOWAY.

This place, in spite of its unpromising name, deserves a brief notice
as a quiet summer resort of Londoners.

The Devil’s House was a moated timber building which originally formed
the manor-house of Tolentone (afterwards Highbury) Manor. It stood on
the east of Devil’s Lane, previously (before 1735) called Tallington or
Tollington Lane, and now known as the Hornsey Road. It was within two
fields of Holloway Turnpike.[177]

There was a tradition that the house was a retreat of Claude Duval’s,
and the house and Lane were sometimes known as “Duval’s.” There is,
however, no direct evidence to connect the famous highwayman with the
house, and Duval’s House may be considered as a popular corruption
of Devil’s House. In a survey of Highbury Manor made in 1611, this
house already bears the name of “Devil’s House in Devil’s Lane” and
is described as being at that date an old building “with a mote, and
a little orchard within.” In the Islington Survey of 1735, it appears
as “Devol’s House,” an apparent compromise between the fiend and the
highwayman.

It is not known to have been a place of entertainment till 1767 when
the landlord,[178] who attempted to change the name to the Summer
House, offered to London anglers and pedestrians the attraction of
“tea and hot loaves, ready at a moment’s notice, and new milk from the
cows grazing in the pleasant meadows adjoining.” The house was still
encompassed with a wide moat crossed by a bridge, and there was an
orchard with a canal. The garden which surrounded the house was well
laid out, and the water was stocked with abundance of tench and carp.
The place was still occupied and used as an inn in 1811,[179] though
about that time the landlord nearly filled up the moat with earth.

The house was in existence in 1849 (or later),[180] being on the east
of the Hornsey Road near the junction with the Seven Sisters’ Road.

[Lysons’s _Environs_ (1795), “Islington,” p. 127, note; Nelson’s
_Islington_, 133, 173; Lewis’s _Islington_, pp. 67, 279, 280;
Larwood and Hotten, _Signboards_, 294, 295, quoting a letter
signed H. G., 25 May, 1767, in the _Public Advertiser_, which
describes the place at that period; Walford, ii. 275; Tomlins’s
_Perambulation of Islington_, pp. 31, 32.]

VIEWS.

1. A view of the house, gardens and bridge appears in Walford,
v. 378, “Claude Duval’s House in 1825.”

2. Devil’s or Du Val’s House, Holloway, a sepia drawing by C. H.
Matthews (1840); Crace, _Cat._ p. 604, No. 190.

HORNSEY WOOD HOUSE.

Hornsey Wood House was situated on the summit of rising ground on
the east of Hornsey and at the entrance to Hornsey Wood. It began to
be frequented about the middle of the last century,[181] and in the
earlier years of its existence aspired to be “a genteel tea-house,”
though unpretending in appearance. On popular holidays, such as
Whit-Sunday, its long room might be seen crowded as early as nine
or ten in the morning with a motley assemblage of “men, women and
children eating rolls and butter and drinking of tea at an extravagant
price.”[182]

The pleasures of Hornsey Wood House were of an unsophisticated
kind--unlimited tea-drinking, a ramble in the wood, and a delightful
view of the surrounding country. An excursion to Little Hornsey
to drink tea was a favourite with London citizens’ wives and
daughters.[183] Hone remembered the old Hornsey Wood House, as it
stood (apparently before 1800), “embowered and seeming a part of the
Wood.” It was at that time kept by two sisters, Mrs. Lloyd and Mrs.
Collier, and these aged dames were usually to be found before their
door on a seat between two venerable oaks, wherein swarms of bees hived
themselves.

Soon after their death (before 1800?) the house was pulled down and
the proprietor expended £10,000 in improvements and in erecting the
roomy brick building known as Hornsey Wood Tavern. The tea-gardens were
enlarged and a lake formed, for the benefit of those who wished for a
little angling or boating. To effect these improvements, a romantic
part of the wood was destroyed, but the remaining portion still
continued an attraction. About 1835 the “lower order of citizens” as T.
Cromwell (_Islington_, p. 138) calls them, used to go “palming” to
the wood on Palm Sunday. All through the present century Hornsey Wood
House (or Tavern) was a favourite Sunday resort of Londoners.

In 1866 at the time of the formation of Finsbury Park, the house was
pulled down and its site and that of the gardens and the Wood must be
looked for in the Park, which was opened as a public recreation ground
in 1869.

[_The Idler_, No. 15, July 1758; Dodsley’s _London_, 1761; _Low
Life_ (1764), p. 46; _Sunday Ramble_, 1776 and 1797; Kearsley’s
_Strangers’ Guide_; Lambert’s _London_, iv. 274; _Picture of
London_, eds. 1802, 1823 and 1829; Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i.
759, ff.; Lewis’s _Islington_, pp. 190, 282; J. F. Murray’s
_World of London_, 1845, ii. p. 82, ff.; Walford, v. 430, ff.;
_Illustrated London News_, 14 August, 1869; J. H. Lloyd’s
_Highgate_, 1888.]

VIEWS.

1. An engraving of old Hornsey Wood House &c., in Lewis’s
_Islington_, p. 282.

2. There are many views of the later Hornsey Wood House (or
Tavern), _e.g._ one engraved in Walford, v. 426, and there
assigned to the year 1800. This is substantially the same as
one (undated) in Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i. 759. Hone,
_ib._ 761, also gives a woodcut of the Lake. There is an
engraving of the house of 1809, published by J. Cundee (W.
Coll.), and there are views of it of a later date; _e.g._
an engraving in Cromwell’s _Islington_, p. 138.

THE SPRING GARDEN, STOKE NEWINGTON.

This Spring Garden is marked in Warner’s _Survey of Islington_,
1735, rather to the south of Newington Green. About 1753 the tavern
connected with the garden was taken by W. Bristow, who advertised the
place as an afternoon tea-garden, appending to his advertisement the
note “beans in perfection for any companies.”[184]

It is mentioned in _Low Life_, 1764 as resorted to on Whit-Sunday
evening by Londoners of the lower classes. Cromwell in his
_Islington_ (p. 199) published in 1835, speaks of the tavern and
tea-gardens as existing “within memory.”

THE BLACK QUEEN COFFEE-HOUSE AND TEA-GARDENS, SHACKLEWELL.

The Black Queen Coffee-house situated on Shacklewell Green had attached
to it a bowling green and tea-gardens planted with fruit trees, yews,
limes, and poplars. It is said to have been resorted to by “genteel
company,” but little is known of it, except that in 1793 (when in
possession of a Mr. Moore) the lease was advertised to be sold by
auction (13th September, 1793).

[_The Daily Advertiser_ for 3 September, 1793.]

HAMPSTEAD GROUP

HAMPSTEAD WELLS

The outlet of the once famous spring of Hampstead is at the present
time to be found on the north side of Well Walk, and the water now
trickles out slowly into a basin, which forms part of a modern
fountain. The earliest mention of the spring occurs in the time of
Charles II. when one Dorothy Rippin appears to have made some profit by
the sale of the water, as she issued a halfpenny token which has on its
obverse the words, DOROTHY RIPPIN AT THE WELL IN HAMSTED, and
a representation of a well and bucket.[185] The well was in 1698 on the
estate of Susanna Noel and her son Baptist, third Earl of Gainsborough,
and was given by them conjointly on 20th December of that year,
together with six acres of land, for the benefit of the Hampstead poor.
A tablet on the present fountain records this gift.

The first to draw attention to the medicinal value of the water, was a
well-known physician, Dr. Gibbons,[186] who in the early part of the
eighteenth century described it as being as fully efficacious as any
chalybeate water in England.

In April 1700 the water was advertised as being of the same nature
and virtue as that at Tunbridge Wells, and was sold by Phelps, an
apothecary, at the Eagle and Child in Fleet Street, for threepence a
flask. It was also obtainable from the lessee of the Wells at the Black
Posts, King Street, near the Guildhall; at Sam’s Coffee House, Ludgate
Hill, and at several other places in the City.

From this time there grew up around the spring various places of
entertainment--a tavern[187] and coffee room, a bowling green and
raffling shops, and, as will be presently seen, a chapel.

The chief building was the Great Room situated on the south side of
Well Walk, about one hundred yards from the East Heath. It was a large
house lit with long windows, and within its walls took place concerts
and dances for the amusement of the Wells visitors up to 1733. The
first recorded entertainment was given therein 1701 (18 August), when
there was a “consort” of both vocal and instrumental music by the “best
masters.” The performance began at ten o’clock in the morning, and
dancing took place in the afternoon. The tickets for the dancing cost
sixpence, and one shilling was charged for the concert. In September of
the same year, another concert was given at eleven o’clock, at which
one Jemmy Bowen sang and two men performed on the violin. There was
dancing in the afternoon as usual. These performances were continued
every Monday during the season. “Very good music for dancing all
day long” was announced for 12 May, 1707, and on 22 July, 1710, a
girl of nine, a pupil of Mr. Tenoe, sang several operatic songs, and
this performance began at five for the “conveniency of gentlemen’s
returning.” The admission was two shillings and sixpence.

[Illustration: _A View of y^e Long Room at Hampstead from the
Heath._ | _Vue de la Chambre longue à Hampstead du Côté de
la Colline._]

In the vicinity of the Great Room, stood Sion Chapel,[188] where
couples on presenting a license and the sum of five shillings could
be married at any time. A clergyman was always in attendance, and if
the newly married would take their wedding dinner in the garden of the
tavern nothing beyond the license was required. In 1716 the chapel was
referred to as a “private and pleasure place” where many persons of
the best fashion were married. It may be suspected, however, that the
marriages were often, like those at the Fleet and Mayfair, irregular,
and that the license was occasionally dispensed with.

During the first ten or twenty years of the eighteenth century,
Hampstead Wells presented a gay and varied scene. When tired of the
music and dancing in the Great Room, the visitor could adjourn to the
bowling green, or to the raffling shops, where the cards were flying
and the dice rattling, while fine gentlemen lost their money with
“ease and negligence.” There was the promenade in Well Walk beneath
the avenue of limes, or a stroll might be taken on the breezy Heath.
Court ladies were there “all air and no dress”; city ladies all dress
and no air, and country dames with “broad brown faces like a Stepney
bun.” Citizens like Mr. Deputy Driver in the comedy[189] came down from
town, perhaps to find their ladies coquetting with a beau, or retired
to picquet with some brisk young Templar. “This Hampstead’s a charming
place,” exclaims Arabella the citizen’s wife: “To dance all night at
the Wells; be treated at Mother Huff’s,[190] have presents made one at
the raffling shops, and then take a walk in Cane Wood with a man of wit
that’s not over rude.”

With this gay and fashionable throng there mingled company of a lower
class, such as the Fleet Street sempstresses who danced minuets “in
their furbeloe scarfs” and ill-fitting clothes. By about 1724 the
more rakish and disreputable element had become predominant.[191] Bad
characters came from London in “vampt up old cloaths to catch the
apprentices.” Lord Lovemore might still court his “mimic charmer”[192]
there, but modest people did not care to join the company on the walks.
The playing and dicing were kept up as formerly, but gentlemen no
longer lost with ease and negligence, and one sharper tried to cheat
another. In 1733 the Great Room was converted into an Episcopal Chapel
and was used for church services until 1849. In 1869 the West Middlesex
Volunteers occupied the building. About 1880 it was demolished, and
to-day a modern red brick house in Well Walk (erected in 1892), and the
entrance to Gainsborough Gardens occupy the site. A tablet on the house
testifies that the “Old pump room” (_i.e._ Great Room) once stood
on the spot.

In 1734 Dr. John Soame published a pamphlet in which he extolled with
somewhat suspicious optimism the virtues of the neglected spring,
recommending the water for cutaneous affections and nervous disorders.
According to Soame, the spring[193] then threw off water at the
rate of five gallons in four minutes, and could be made to throw a
stream upwards to a height of at least twelve feet. “The Beautys
of Hampstead,” a song of this period, extols the “Chrystal bub’ling
Well,”[194] but the water-drinking does not appear again to have become
the vogue, though as a place of amusement the Wells still enjoyed
some degree of popularity. Another assembly-house, known as the Long
Room, took the place of the old Great Room. This was a substantial red
brick building of one storey. The ground floor consisted of an entire
room with two small ante-rooms, one on either side of the entrance,
used for tea-parties and card-playing. The floor above was divided up
into rooms, where a cosy supper or a game of cards might be enjoyed.
The house (probably built, in part, in the seventeenth century) still
exists, and is to be found on the opposite side to the old Great Room,
about a hundred yards further down Well Walk, going from the Heath.
It is now a private residence called Weatherall House. It was in the
Long Room that the Hampstead Balls took place of the kind described
by Frances Burney. Here Evelina[195] was worried by Beau Smith, and
refused the offers of “inelegant and low-bred” partners, who “begged
the favour of hopping a dance” with her. Samuel Rogers (_Table
Talk_) says that in his youth (_circ._ 1783) the Hampstead
Assemblies were frequented by “a great deal of good company,” and that
he himself danced four or five minuets there in one evening.

In 1802 a surgeon named John Bliss published a treatise, in which,
without success, he endeavoured once more to awaken an interest in the
medicinal properties of the Well. Mr. Keates, consulting chemist to
the Metropolitan Board of Works, in recent times stated that it was a
distinctly chalybeate water containing sufficient iron to render it
capable of producing marked therapeutic effects. It was extremely pure,
and in general character, though with a larger proportion of iron,
resembled that of Tunbridge Wells.[196]

[Dodsley’s _London_ (1761); _Ambulator_, 1774; Kearsley’s
_Strangers’ Guide_ (1793?); Walford, v. 467, ff.; Thorne’s
_Environs of London_ (1876), 281; Sir Gilbert Scott’s _Proposed
Destruction of the Well Walk_ (Hampstead, 1879), with plan of
Well Walk; Park’s _Hampstead_; Baines’s _Hampstead_.]

VIEWS.

1. The Pump-room, Well Walk (_i.e._ Great Room), since, the
Episcopal Chapel, in Baines’s _Hampstead_, from a drawing
by Blanche Cowper Baines, after E. H. Dixon.

2. The old Well Walk, Hampstead, about 1750 (Walford, v. 463).

3. A view of “Ye Long Room at Hampstead from the Heath.”
Chatelain del. et sculp. 1752 (W. Coll.).

4. Well Walk, engraving in Howitt’s _Northern Heights_,
from a photograph.

5. Well Walk in 1870 in Baines’s _Hampstead_, from a sketch
by Walter Field.

THE SPANIARDS

The old Spaniards inn, still standing on the north side of the road
between the upper and lower Heath of Hampstead, deserves a brief
mention, seeing that about the middle of the eighteenth century or
earlier, it had attached to it a curious garden laid out by one William
Staples, who was probably the keeper of the inn.[197]

A contemporary account describes how “out of a wild and thorny wood
full of hills, valleys, and sandpits,” the ingenious Mr. Staples “hath
now made pleasant grass and gravel walks, with a mount, from the
elevation whereof the beholder hath a prospect of Hanslope steeple
in Northamptonshire, within eight miles of Northampton; of Langdon
hill, in Essex, full sixty miles east,” and of other eminences, the
visibility of which was perhaps less mythical.

The walks and plats were ornamented with a number of curious devices
picked out with pebble stones of variegated colours. There were over
forty of these quaint designs, such as the sun in its glory, the twelve
signs of the Zodiac, the Tower of London, the grand colossus of Rhodes,
the pathway of all the planets, the spire of Salisbury, Adam and Eve,
the shield of David, the Egyptian pyramids, and an Egyptian sphinx: an
odd association of things earthly and celestial.

Towards the end of the eighteenth century the Spaniards was much
resorted to, especially on Sundays.[198] During the Gordon Riots of
1780, its landlord, Giles Thomas, is said to have arrested the progress
of the mob bent on the destruction of Caen Wood House, Lord Mansfield’s
residence, hard by, through rolling out his beer barrels into the road,
and setting them abroach, thus gaining time to summon the military for
the defence of the house.

[Illustration: SOUTH VIEW OF THE SPANIARDS, 1750.]

In the present century, though the mount and the pebbled plots had
disappeared, the Spaniards gardens were rendered attractive by a
bowling-green, and by pleasant arbours and parterres: it was resorted
to by many a party of tea-drinkers like that of Mr. Raddle, Mrs.
Bardell and her friends.[199]

[Park’s _Hampstead_; Baines’s _Hampstead_; Walford, v. 445, ff.;
Thorne’s _Environs of London_, 1876.]

VIEWS.

1. The south view of the Spaniards (showing the garden as laid
out by Staples) near Hampstead (Chatelain del., J. Roberts
sculp. 1750, W. Coll., reproduced in Chambers’s _Book of
Days_, ii. 71).

2. The Spaniards Tavern, Hampstead, Middlesex, drawn and
engraved for Dugdale’s _England and Wales_.

3. View of the inn as at present, Walford, v. 445.

4. “View of a skittle ground at Hampstead” (either the Spaniards
or Jack Straw’s Castle), Woodward’s _Eccentric Excursions_,
coloured print, pl. iv. p. 14 (1796).

NEW GEORGIA

New Georgia was situated in Turner’s Wood to the north-east of the
Spaniards tavern, Hampstead, and at the northern extremity of the road
opposite the western lodge of Caen Wood. It was a wooden cottage, two
storeys high, irregularly constructed, and standing in a wilderness
and garden laid out “in a delightful romantic taste.” The proprietor,
Robert Caston, built the cottage in 1737, and opened New Georgia to the
public.

He was his own architect, builder, and gardener, and probably compared
his labours to those of the founders of the American colony of Georgia
established in 1733. An inscription on the cottage explained the origin
of New Georgia as follows:--“I Robert Caston, begun this place in a
wild wood, stubbed up the wood, digged all the ponds, cut all the
walks, made all the gardens, built all the rooms, with my own hands;
nobody drove a nail here, laid a brick or a tile, but myself, and thank
God for giving me such strength, being sixty-four years of age when I
begun it.”

Tea was supplied in the cottage or the gardens, but the chief
attractions were a number of mechanical oddities set in motion in
the garden and in the various little rooms into which the house was
divided. London shopkeepers, like Zachary Treacle,[200] often made
their way to the place on Sunday afternoons, and were diverted by
reptiles that darted forth when a board or spring was trodden upon, by
a chair that collapsed when sat upon, and by various contrivances of
water-works.

The more boisterous, who on other Sundays delighted in a roll down the
hill in Greenwich Park, found amusement in thrusting their heads into
the New Georgia pillory to receive in that position the kisses of the
ladies. A thickly-planted maze was another source of diversion.

The place does not appear to have been frequented after about 1758,
and was subsequently (before 1795)[201] enclosed in the estate of Lord
Mansfield.

[_Gent. Mag._ 1748, vol. 18, 109; _The Connoisseur_, No. 26,
25 July, 1754; _The Idler_, No. 15, 22 July, 1758; Lysons’s
_Environs_, ii. 527; Lambert’s _London_ (1806), iv. 255; Park’s
_Hampstead_; Prickett’s _Highgate_, 72, ff. Walford, v. 446.]

VIEWS.

New Georgia is clearly marked in Rocque’s Survey, 1745, but
there appear to be no views.

BELSIZE HOUSE

Belsize House was a large Elizabethan mansion, modified in the time of
Charles II. Pepys, who visited it in 1668 (17 August) when it was the
residence of Lord Wotton, describes its gardens as “wonderful fine: too
good for the house the gardens are, being, indeed, the most noble that
ever I saw, and brave orange and lemon trees.”[202]

The house was a private residence until 1720, when it was converted
into a place of public amusement, under the management of a Welshman
named Howell. At this time it was a somewhat imposing structure, with
wings, and a tower in the centre. The entrance was by a door placed
between the wings, and also by an external staircase at one wing.

The inaugural entertainment took place about April, 1720, and consisted
of an “uncommon solemnity of music and dancing.” The place was usually
open from 6 a.m. till 8 p.m., without charge for admission. The Park,
Wilderness and Garden, about a mile in circumference, were advertised
(about 1721?), as being wonderfully improved and filled with a variety
of birds, “which compose a most melodious and delightful harmony.”
Those who wished for an early stroll in the park could “breakfast on
tea or coffee as cheap as at their own chambers.” As the journey from
London was not unattended with risks, twelve stout fellows (afterwards
increased to thirty), completely armed, were announced as “always at
hand to patrol timid females or other.”

[Illustration: BELSIZE HOUSE AND PARK.]

Belsize became a fashionable rendezvous. In July 1721 the Prince and
Princess of Wales, attended by several persons of rank, dined at the
house, and were entertained with hunting and other diversions. In
June, 1722, on the occasion of a wild deer hunt, three or four hundred
coaches brought down the “Nobility and Gentry” from town. Athletic
sports were introduced, and the proprietor gave a plate of several
guineas to be run for by eleven footmen (1721). Gambling and intrigue
were the less wholesome results of this influx of the nobility and
gentry. In May 1722 the Justices took steps to prevent the unlawful
gaming, while in the same year “A serious Person of Quality” published
a satire called _Belsize House_, in which he undertook to expose
“the Fops and Beaux who daily frequent that Academy,” and also the
“characters of the women who make this an exchange for assignations.”

This house, which is a nuisance to the land
Doth near a park and handsome garden stand
Fronting the road, betwixt a range of trees
Which is perfumed with a Hampstead breeze.
The Welsh Ambassador has many ways
Fool’s pence, while summer season holds, to raise.
For ’tis not only chocolate and tea,
With ratafia, bring him company.
Nor is it claret, Rhenish wine or sack
The fond and rampant Lords and Ladies lack
Or ven’son pasty for a certain dish
With several varieties of fish;
But hither they and other chubs resort
To see the Welsh Ambassador make sport,
Who in the art of hunting has the luck
To kill in fatal corner tired buck,
The which he roasts and stews and sometimes bakes,
Whereby His Excellency profit makes.
He also on another element
Does give his choused customers content
With net or angling rod, to catch a dish
Of trouts or carp or other sorts of fish.

The Welsh Ambassador was the nickname of the proprietor, James Howell,
an enterprising though not very reputable person, who had once been
imprisoned for some offence in Newgate.

Races[203] and similar amusements continued for several years to be
provided, and music was performed every day during the season. In the
spring of 1733 (31 May) a race was advertised for ponies twelve hands
six inches high. The length of the race was six times round the course;
“Mr. Treacle’s black pony,” which distinguished itself by winning the
plate at Hampstead Heath in the previous year, being excluded.

In 1736 a fat doe was advertised to be hunted to death by small
beagles, beginning at nine in the morning, and sportsmen were invited
to bring their own dogs, if “not too large.” In the same year (16
September) a boys’ race was run, beginning at three o’clock, six times
round the course: a prize of one guinea was given to the winner, and
half a guinea to the second runner. “Each person to pay sixpence
coming in, and all persons sitting on the wall or getting over will be
prosecuted.”

For an afternoon in August 1737, there was announced a running match
six times round the park, between “the Cobler’s Boy and John Wise the
Mile-End Drover,” for twenty guineas. In 1745 there were foot-races in
the park, and this is the last notice we have of Belsize as a place of
amusement.

The mansion falling into a ruinous state[204] was pulled down at
the close of the eighteenth century (before 1798), and a large,
plainly-built house was erected in its stead. From 1798–1807 this new
Belsize House was tenanted by the Right Hon. Spencer Perceval and
others. In the autumn of 1853 the house was pulled down (cp. _The
Illustrated London News_ for 9th September, 1854, p. 239), and the
buildings of the Belsize Estate were subsequently erected on the site
of the Park.

The present Belsize Avenue (on the west side of Haverstock Hill) is the
representative of a beautiful avenue of elms, which originally led up
to the old Belsize House, the site of which was near the present St.
Peter’s Church.

[Palmer’s _St. Pancras_, 227, ff.; Baines’s _Hampstead_; Walford
v. 494, ff.; Howitt’s _Northern Heights_; Lambert’s _London_,
1806, iv. 256; Thorne’s _Environs of London_, s.v. “Hampstead”;
Park’s _Hampstead_; newspaper advertisements, W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

1. Old Belsize House. A view on a Belsize House advertisement,
_circ._ 1721? and a view by Maurer, 1750; cp. Howitt’s
_Northern Heights_ and C. Knight’s _Old England_, ii.
fig. 2404.

2. Belsize House in 1800 (Walford, v. 492).

KILBURN WELLS

The spring known as Kilburn Wells was situated in the Abbey Field near
the site of the old Kilburn Priory, and in the rear of the Bell Tavern.
It attracted public notice about the middle of the last century;[205]
and some endeavours were made, probably by the proprietor of the Bell,
to bring Kilburn Wells into vogue: at any rate, in 1752 it is referred
to as a place in some respects akin to Sadler’s Wells:--

Shall you prolong the midnight ball
With costly supper at Vaux Hall,
And yet prohibit earlier suppers
At Kilburn, Sadler’s Wells or Kupers?[206]

About 1773 Kilburn Wells began to be more widely known, and the
proprietor’s advertisement of 17 July in that year announced that the
water was then in the utmost perfection, the gardens enlarged and
greatly improved, and the house and offices “repainted and beautified
in the most elegant manner.” The Great Room was described as specially
adapted for “the use and amusement of the politest companies” who might
require it for music, dancing, or entertainments. “This happy spot is
equally celebrated for its rural situation, extensive prospects, and
the acknowledged efficacy of its waters; is most delightfully situated
on the site of the once famous Abbey of Kilburn on the Edgware Road, at
an easy distance, being but a morning’s walk from the metropolis, two
miles from Oxford Street; the footway from Marybone across the fields
still nearer. A plentiful larder is always provided, together with the
best of wines and other liquors. Breakfasting and hot loaves.”

An account of the medicinal water drawn up by the usual “eminent
physician” was given away to visitors, and in one of the rooms was a
long list of the diseases said to have been cured. Tn 1792 Godfrey
Schmeisser made a careful analysis of the water. It was a mild
purgative, milky in appearance, and had a bitterish saline taste. The
use of the water for curative purposes appears to have ceased in the
early part of the present century (before 1814), but the Old Bell,
or Kilburn Wells as the place was generally denominated, enjoyed
popularity as a tea-garden as late as 1829.[207]

About 1863 the Old Bell was pulled down, and the present Bell
public-house erected on the spot. A brick reservoir long enclosed the
spring, but some years ago it was demolished and built over. It stood
immediately behind the Bank at the corner of Belsize Road.

[Thorne’s _Environs of London_; Lambert’s _London_, iv. 288;
Howitt’s _Northern Heights_; Baines’s _Hampstead_; Park’s
_Hampstead_; Walford, v. 245, ff.]

VIEWS.

1. The Bell Inn, Kilburn, 1750 (Walford, v. 246).

2. The Bell Inn, Kilburn, from a mezzotint, 1789, reproduced in
Baines’s _Hampstead_.

3. View of the Old Bell Inn at Kilburn on the Edgware Road.
Rathbone del. Prestal sculp. 1789. Crace, _Cat._ p. 670,
No. 76.

4. An engraved handbill, describing the waters, at the top of
which is a print of the Long Room, by F. Vivares; mentioned in
Park’s _Hampstead_, p. xxxi*, additions.

CHELSEA GROUP

RANELAGH HOUSE AND GARDENS

§ 1. _Origin of Ranelagh_

About the year 1690 Richard, Viscount (afterwards Earl of) Ranelagh,
Paymaster-General of the Forces, built for himself on the east side of
Chelsea Hospital a private residence known as Ranelagh House, and laid
out a garden. In 1691[208] the house is described as “very fine within,
all the rooms being wainscotted with Norway oak,” and the garden plats
and walks were “curiously kept and elegantly designed.” Bowack in 1705
says that the gardens were “esteemed to be the best in England, the
size considered.” Here Lord Ranelagh lived till his death in 1712.

In 1733 the property was sold, and at that time Lacy, patentee of Drury
Lane Theatre, made arrangements for forming Ranelagh into a place of
public amusement. Nothing decisive was done till 1741, when a large
circular building, the famous Rotunda (at first generally called the
Amphitheatre), was erected in the Ranelagh grounds by William Jones,
architect to the East India Company.[209]

The capital for the undertaking was furnished by a few shareholders,
and was divided into thirty-six shares of £1,000 each. The principal
shareholder and manager was Sir Thomas Robinson, Bart., M.P., whose
gigantic form was for many years familiar to all frequenters of
the Rotunda: a writer of 1774 calls him its Maypole and Garland of
Delights.[210]

The Rotunda and Gardens were first opened on 5 April, 1742, with a
public breakfast, and a visit to Ranelagh became the vogue. Of the
early fortunes of the place the best chronicler is Horace Walpole. On
April 22, 1742, he writes to Mann:--“I have been breakfasting this
morning at Ranelagh Garden: they have built an immense amphitheatre,
with balconies full of little ale-houses: it is in rivalry to Vauxhall
and costs above twelve thousand pounds.”[211]

On May 26[212] he again describes the “vast amphitheatre, finely gilt,
painted and illuminated; into which everybody that loves eating,
drinking, staring, or crowding, is admitted for twelvepence.” In
1744,[213] Mr. Walpole goes “every night constantly” to Ranelagh,
“which has totally beat Vauxhall.” “Nobody goes anywhere else;
everybody goes there. My Lord Chesterfield is so fond of it, that he
says he has ordered all his letters to be directed thither.” “The floor
is all of beaten princes”; “you can’t set your foot without treading on
a Prince or Duke of Cumberland.” In 1748,[214] “Ranelagh is so crowded,
that going there t’other night in a string of coaches, we had a stop of
six and thirty minutes.”

In 1745 Mr. Thomas Gray had written to a friend[215] that he had no
intention of following the stream to Ranelagh, and he touched a weak
spot in the delights of the London Pleasure Gardens--the uncertainty of
the London weather. “I have never been at Ranelagh Gardens since they
were opened.... They do not succeed: people see it once, or twice, and
so they go to Vauxhall. Well, but is it not a very great design, very
new, finely lighted? Well, yes, aye, very fine truly, so they yawn and
go to Vauxhall, and then it’s too hot, and then it’s too cold, and
here’s a wind and there’s a damp.” But in August 1746 we find Gray
declaring[216] that his evenings lately have been chiefly spent at
Ranelagh and Vauxhall.

Other literary people, at least as interesting, as Walpole’s Dukes and
Princes, frequented Ranelagh. The learned Mrs. Carter was there in
1748, and found the gardens very pleasant on a June evening, though she
did not relish such “tumultary torchlight entertainments.” Goldsmith
and Reynolds used to go there together about 1771, and Dr. Johnson
“often went to Ranelagh,” which he deemed, as the Rev. Dr. Maxwell
apologetically observes, “a place of innocent recreation.”

§ 2. _The Rotunda_

The guide-books abound with architectural details of the Ranelagh
Rotunda.[217] A sufficient idea of its general appearance may be gained
by glancing at some of the contemporary prints and by noticing a few
salient features. Writers of the time compare it to “the Pantheon at
Rome”: the Londoner of to-day will think rather of the British Museum
Reading Room which it resembled in size and, to some extent, in general
appearance. The circumference was 555 feet and the internal diameter
150 feet. It was entered by four Doric porticoes opposite one another,
and the interior architecture corresponded with the exterior.

On the exterior was an arcade encircling the building, and above this
arcade was a gallery reached by steps placed at the porticoes.

In the interior was a circle of fifty-two[218] boxes, separated by
wainscotting. Each box had its “droll painting” and its bell-lamp with
candles; and in each seven or eight people could be accommodated with
refreshments. Benches covered with red baize were dispersed about the
area, and the plaster floor was covered with matting.

Above the circle of boxes was a gallery containing a similar range of
boxes which were entered by folding-doors from the gallery outside
the building. The Rotunda was lighted by sixty windows, and the chief
material used in its construction was wood.

The ceiling was painted an olive colour, with a rainbow round the
extremity, and there hung from it numerous chandeliers, each ornamented
with a gilt crown and containing crystal bell-lamps of candles. When
all the candles were lighted, the sight, we are told, was “very
glorious.”

In the centre of the building was a remarkable square erection
supporting the roof, and made up of pillars and arches elaborately
decorated. This “grand and elegant structure” was nothing more or less
than a fireplace containing a chimney and an open fire. On cold days in
February and March the best place was “one of the hot blazing red-cloth
benches” by the fire. This fireplace structure had originally contained
the orchestra, but after a few years the orchestra was, for acoustic
reasons, moved to the side of the Rotunda. Behind the orchestra was an
organ by Byfield, set up in 1746.[219]

[Illustration:

_The Inside View of the Rotunda in Renelagh Gardens with the
Company at Breakfast._

_Vue de la Compagnie à Dejeuner dans la Rotonde au
Mellieux des Jardines de Renelagh._

THE ROTUNDA AT RENELAGH, _circ._ 1751.]

Johnson declared that “the _coup d’œil_” of Ranelagh was “the
finest thing he had ever seen.”[220] When Johnson first entered
Ranelagh and its brilliant circle, it gave, as he told Boswell,[221]
“an expansion and gay sensation” to his mind, such as he had never
experienced anywhere else. Miss Lydia Melford, in _Humphry
Clinker_, wrote about Ranelagh to her ‘dear Willis’ with an
enthusiasm less restrained, and without Dr. Johnson’s moralising
comment:--“Alas, Sir, these are only _struggles_ for happiness.”
“Ranelagh (she writes) looks like the enchanted palace of a genio,
adorned with the most exquisite performances of painting, carving, and
gilding, enlightened with a thousand golden lamps that emulate the
noonday sun; crowded with the great, the rich, the gay, the happy and
the fair; glittering with cloth of gold and silver, lace, embroidery,
and precious stones. While these exulting sons and daughters of
felicity tread this round of pleasure, or regale in different parties,
and separate lodges, with fine imperial tea and other delicious
refreshments, their ears are entertained with the most ravishing
delights of music, both instrumental and vocal.”

§ 3. _The entertainments and the company._

The usual charge for admission was half a crown,[222] which always
included the ‘regale’ of tea, coffee and bread and butter. Foote called
Ranelagh the Bread and Butter Manufactory, and, except on ball nights,
no other refreshments seem to have been procurable.

The place was usually open on three days in the week, Mondays,
Wednesdays and Fridays.[223] The regular season for the evening
concerts and garden-promenade began at Easter, but the Rotunda was
often open in February, or earlier, for the dances. In the early days
of Ranelagh the public breakfastings and the morning concerts at twelve
were a constant feature. About 1754 the proprietors of Ranelagh were
refused a license for music, and the breakfasting took place that year
without concerts: these breakfasts and morning concerts do not appear
to have been subsequently renewed.

The evening concerts (from May 1742, onwards) generally began, at 6.30
or 7. Between the Acts the company walked in the gardens to the music
of horns and clarinets, and a garden-orchestra was erected about 1764.
The gardens were illuminated, but fireworks did not become a prominent
feature till about 1767.

The gardens themselves were somewhat formally laid out. There were
several gravel walks, shaded by elms and yews; a flower-garden, and “a
beautiful octagon grass plat.” The principal walk led from the south
end of Ranelagh House to the bottom of the gardens, where there was
a circular Temple of Pan. At night the walks were prettily lit with
lamps attached to the trees. There was also a canal with a Temple
indifferently described as the Chinese House and the Venetian Temple.

[Illustration: _The Chinese House, the Rotunda, & the Company
in Masquerade in RENELAGH GARDENS_]

In its earliest as well as in its latest days masquerades attracted
many to the Rotunda and the gardens, but the chief diversion was the
promenade in the Rotunda. A guide-book of 1793 states that “walking
round the Rotundo” was “one of the pleasures of the place.” We hear
much at all periods of “the circular labour” of the company
and “the ring of folly.”[224] Matthew Bramble found one half of the
company “following one another’s tails in an eternal circle like
asses in an olive mill while the other half are drinking hot water
under the denomination of tea.” Mr. Bramble exacted much from places
of amusement, but it is to be suspected from other testimonies that
there was an atmosphere of dulness, a note of ennui, about the
ordinary diversions of this fashionable rendezvous. “There’s your
famous Ranelagh (says ‘Evelina’) that you make such a fuss about; why
what a dull place is that!” A Frenchman describing Ranelagh about
1800--foreigners were always expected to visit it--calls it “le plus
insipide lieu d’amusement que l’on ait pu imaginer,” and even hints at
Dante’s Purgatory. Another Frenchman writing much earlier, _circ._
1749, briefly comments “on s’ennuie avec de la mauvaise musique, du thé
et du beurre.”

Samuel Rogers (_Table Talk_), who must have known Ranelagh from
about 1786 till its close, was struck by the solemnity of the whole
thing: “all was so orderly and still that you could hear the whishing
sound of the ladies’ trains as the immense assembly walked round and
round the room.” An “affray” of the kind familiar at Vauxhall and
not infrequent at Marylebone was practically unknown at Ranelagh. On
May 6th, 1752, Dr. John Hill was caned in the Rotunda by an angry
gentleman, and the newspapers and caricaturists were momentarily
excited, chiefly because Hill’s injuries were supposed to be a sham.
One almost welcomes a scene at Ranelagh. On the 12th of May, 1764, four
footmen were charged before Sir John Fielding with riotous behaviour at
Ranelagh House, “hissing several of the nobility, relative to their not
giving or suffering vails to be taken, pelting several gentlemen with
brick-bats and breaking the windows.”[225]

Throughout its career of more than a hundred and sixty years, Ranelagh
fairly maintained its position as a fashionable resort, but at all
periods the company was a good deal mixed. Philomides, “a gentleman
of sprightly wit, and very solid judgment,” has described[226] the
frequenters of the place four or five years after it was first opened.
My Lord (he says) was sure to meet his tailor there, and Statira would
see her toyman “cursing himself for letting this Statira have a service
of very fine Dresden china, which she assured him her Lord would pay
for immediately.” The ubiquitous Templar was easily recognised--a
pert young fellow in a fustian frock, and a broad-brimmed hat “in an
affected impudent cock.” There was an Oxford scholar, a political
pamphleteer and a spruce military spark smelling of lavender water. A
coxcomb just returned from his travels was more absurd. He had set up
as virtuoso, and brought home a headless Helen and a genuine ‘Otho’
coined at Rome two years ago. He might now be heard talking Italian in
a loud voice and “pronouncing the word Gothic fifty times an hour.”

In 1760 a fashionable lady complains that there were too many
tradesmen’s wives at Ranelagh. But compared with Vauxhall it was
fashionable, at least according to a lady’s maid in “High Life Below
Stairs” (_circ._ 1759, Act I. sc. 2):--

_Lady Charlotte’s Maid_: Well, I say it again, I love Vauxhall.

_Lady Bab’s Maid_: Oh, my stars! Why, there is nobody there but
filthy citizens--_Runelow_ for _my_ money.

[Illustration: THE ATTACK ON DR. JOHN HILL AT RANELAGH, 6 MAY,
1752.]

From about 1774 it was considered fashionable to arrive at the Rotunda
about 11 P.M., one hour after the concert was over. In 1777, according
to Walpole, the company did not arrive till twelve. “The people of the
true ton,” says the satirical “Harlequin in Ranelagh,”[227] (1774),
“come in about eleven, stare about them for half an hour, laugh at the
other fools who are drenching and scalding themselves with coffee and
tea ... despise all they have seen, and then they trail home again to
sup.” The citizens, on the other hand, came to stare at the great, at
the Duke of Gloucester or Lady Almeria Carpenter, or whoever it might
be. They came to see how the great folks were dressed, how they walked
and how they talked. Some worthy men were compelled by their wives to
wear swords, and in the circling promenade found it hard “to adjust the
spit to the humour of those behind and before” them. The ‘Harlequin’
enlarges on some unpleasant characters who haunted Ranelagh, Baron
H----g (for instance), who trails about like a wounded worm, and Lord
C----y who “runs his nose under every bonnet.” It is not to be denied
that Ranelagh, though on the whole decorous, had a tolerable reputation
as a place of assignation.

§ 4. _Annals of Ranelagh 1742–1769._

From this general sketch of Ranelagh and its frequenters, we may pass
on to some details of its amusements year by year.

The principal performer at the concerts in the earliest days
(1742–_circ._ 1760) was the well-known actor and vocalist Beard,
who was considered by Dibdin to be, “taken altogether, the best English
singer.” Giulia Frasi, young and interesting, with her “sweet clear
voice,” was heard in 1751 and 1752. Michael Festing at first led the
band, and was succeeded (about 1752) by Abram Brown, a performer who
(according to Burney) had “a clear, sprightly and loud tone, with a
strong hand,” but who was deficient in musical knowledge and feeling.
Parry, the Welsh harper (1746), and Caporale, the violoncello player,
were also among the earlier performers.[228]

At first, choruses from oratorios (this was still the case in 1763)
were a feature of the concerts, but the performances soon came to
differ little from those of Vauxhall and Marylebone. In 1754 an
entertainment of recitation, with a procession, was given under the
name of Comus’s Court. In 1757 “Acis and Galatea” was performed for
the benefit of the Marine Society. On 10 June, 1763[229] Bonnell
Thornton’s ‘Burlesque Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day’ was performed,
“adapted (by Burney) to the antient British music, viz.: the salt-box,
the Jew’s-harp, the marrow-bones and cleavers, the hum-strum or
hurdy-gurdy, etc., etc.” The performers sang the recitative, airs and
choruses in masquerade dresses, and the salt-box song was especially
successful. The fun must have been rather forced, though Johnson, who
read the Ode when printed, “praised its humour,” seemed much diverted
with it, and repeated the lines:--

In strains more exalted the salt-box shall join,
And clattering and battering and clapping combine;
With a rap and a tap while the hollow side sounds,
Up and down leaps the flap, and with rattling rebounds.

In 1762–1764 the principal singer was the Italian Tenducci,[230] whose
voice, according to Miss Lydia Melford, was “neither man’s nor woman’s;
but it is more melodious than either, and it warbled so divinely, that
while I listened I really thought myself in Paradise.”

On 29 June, 1764, Mozart, then eight years old, performed on the
harpsichord and organ several of his own compositions. On 12 May,
1767,[231] Catches and Glees were rendered with instrumental parts by
Arne, an addition considered necessary on account of the size of the
Rotunda. This was stated to be the first public performance of the kind
in England.

In 1769 Dibdin was a singer of ballads, and on 12 May of this year
there was a Jubilee Ridotto, an event at which we may pause to recall
some of the earlier masquerades and balls which, from time to time,
enlivened the routine of Ranelagh.

The most famous of these entertainments was the “Grand Jubilee
Masquerade, in the Venetian taste,” that took place on Wednesday,
26 April, 1749, to celebrate the proclamation of the peace of
Aix-la-Chapelle. The Masquerade (says Horace Walpole[232]) “had nothing
Venetian in it, but was by far the best understood and prettiest
spectacle I ever saw; nothing in a fairy tale ever surpassed it....
It began at three o’clock; at about five, people of fashion began to
go; when you entered, you found the whole garden filled with masks and
spread with tents, which remained all night very commodely. In one
quarter was a Maypole dressed with garlands, and people dancing round
it to a tabor and pipe, and rustic music, all masked, as were all the
various bands of music that were disposed in different parts of the
garden; some like huntsmen with French-horns, some like peasants, and
a troop of harlequins and scaramouches in the little open temple on
the mount. On the canal was a sort of gondola, adorned with flags and
streamers, and filled with music, rowing about. All round the outside
of the amphitheatre were shops, filled with Dresden china, Japan, &c.,
and all the shopkeepers in mask. The amphitheatre was illuminated, and
in the middle was a circular bower, composed of all kinds of firs in
tubs, from twenty to thirty feet high; under them, orange trees, with
small lamps in each orange, and below them all sorts of the finest
auriculas in pots; and festoons of natural flowers hanging from tree
to tree. Between the arches, too, were firs, and smaller ones in the
balconies above. There were booths for tea and wine, gaming-tables, and
dancing, and about two thousand persons. In short, it pleased me more
than the finest thing I ever saw.”

Later masquerades, though attended by fashionable people, were
less select, as appears, for example, from an advertisement which
a gentleman inserted in the _Public Advertiser_ of 8 March,
1753[233]:--“This is to inform the Lady that was in a wite mask, red
Beard and Ey’s at the last Masquereade but one, in a brown and silver
flora Pethecoat and head-dress, remarkable gentle, very finely maid,
who lost her company and walked with several masks, perticuler with
one, who in raptorous heared her declare a dislike to gameing and
the intention of Maskquerdes ... on which he asked, wathere single
or ingaged, and under whos care that Night? the lady pointing to a
tall gentleman in black and a bag wigg, said his, my Brother.” His
intentions were honourable, and he begged to see her face. In reply,
“she repetted Part out of the Orphin ‘Trust not a man’; said he had
taken notice enough of her to know her again; bid him look sharp at the
next Makquered, at wich and all other Places he as been dispionted of
seeing her; he therefore hops (if not ingaged) will get her Brother or
some Friend to call on him” as he feels assured he could be happy for
life with her.

On the occasion of the Jubilee Ridotto on 12 May, 1769, the gardens
and the Chinese House were illuminated. “A large sea-horse stuck full
of small lamps floated on the Canal, and had a very agreeable aspect.”
A favourite Ranelagh ‘serenata,’ Dibdin’s ‘Ephesian Matron,’ was
performed at ten, and the Rotunda and gardens were gradually filled by
a brilliant company. The Dukes of York and Cumberland were there, and
one of the prettiest characters was “a rural nymph in rose-coloured
sattin, trimmed with silver.” The tickets, which cost a guinea,
included the supper. Unfortunately, the wine and sweetmeats were not
immediately forthcoming, and some gentlemen broke open the wine cellar
and helped themselves. Sir Thomas Robinson, to make things pleasant,
thereupon sent a general invitation to the company to sup with him. The
dancing began at twelve, and was continued till four, a comparatively
early hour at Ranelagh masquerades.

§ 5. _Later history of Ranelagh, 1770–1805._

A “Gentleman in Town,” writing in _The Town and Country Magazine_
for April 1770 (p. 195) to his friend in the country, enlarges on the
fashionable assemblages to be then seen at Ranelagh three times a
week. And we may note that about this time the tradesmen advertised
their silver Ranelagh silks and Ranelagh waistcoats in gold, silver
and colours. The sweet voice of “the lovely Mrs. Baddeley” was then
to be heard in the Rotunda, and she sang (in the autumn, 1770) in
“The Recruiting Sergeant,” together with Mrs. Thompson, Dibdin, and
Bannister.[234]

The garden concerts, and the fireworks, and transparent pictures in a
building in the grounds had by this time become prominent features of
the place.[235]

The event of 1775 was the Ranelagh Regatta and Ball,[236] which took
place on June 23rd. Early in the afternoon of that day the whole river
from London Bridge to Millbank was covered with pleasure boats, and
scaffold erections were to be seen on the banks, and even on the top of
Westminster Hall. Gambling tables lined the approaches to Westminster
Bridge: men went about selling indifferent liquor, Regatta songs and
Regatta cards. The river banks now resembled a great fair, and the
Thames itself a floating town. Wild calculations fixed the number of
the spectators at 200,000, or “at least” three millions. At 7.30 a
cannon signalled the start of the racing-boats, and about 8.30, when
the prizes had been awarded, the whole procession began to move “in
a picturesque irregularity towards Ranelagh.” The Directors’ barge,
with its band playing and gold REGATTA ensign flying, led the
way, and the fortunate persons who had ball-tickets landed at Ranelagh
Stairs at nine o’clock.

Dancing took place in the Temple of Neptune, a temporary octagon
erection in the grounds. Mrs. Cornelys had been given seven hundred
guineas (it is said) to supply the supper, and it is lamentable to
reflect that the supper was “indifferent, and the wine very scarce.”
However, there was a great company: the Duke of Gloucester, the Duke
of Northumberland, Lord North, the Duchess of Devonshire, Sir Joshua
Reynolds, Garrick, Colman, Samuel Foote. A band of two hundred and
forty instrumentalists, under Giardini, performed in the Rotunda,
and there was singing by Vernon and Reinhold, including the cheering
ballad:--

Ye lords and ye ladies who form this gay throng,
Be silent a moment, attend to our song,
And while you suspend your fantastical round,
Come, bless your sweet stars that you’re none of you drowned.

[Illustration: ADMISSION TICKET, BY CIPRIANI AND BARTOLOZZI.]

From this time (1775) till about 1790 the concerts continued as usual,
but Ranelagh seems during the period to have suffered a certain
eclipse. In May 1788 the shares are said to have fallen from their par
value (£1,000) to £900. Ranelagh was “voted a bore with the fashionable
circles,” and its distance from town began to be considered an obstacle.

About 1791, however, its fortunes revived, and numerous masquerades,
sometimes lasting till six or eight in the morning, and firework
displays (chiefly by Caillot and by Rossi and Tessier) remained a
feature of Ranelagh till its close.

Henry Angelo (_Reminiscences_, ii. _p._ 3 _f._), speaking of its later
days, declares that it was frequented by “the élite of fashion.” The
gentlemen wore powder, frills and ruffles, and had gold-headed canes.
“Cropped heads, trousers or shoe-strings” were not to be seen there.
The men used to buy in the ante-room myrtles, hyacinths and roses, not
to wear themselves, but for presentation to the ladies.

A masquerade of 1792 (14 February) was attended by Mrs. Jordan,
“supported” (as the newspapers said) “between the friendly arms of
the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Clarence.” Mr. Petit was good as
a man walking in his sleep with a candle, and amid the usual crowd of
harlequins, sailors and flower-girls, “a monkey of the largest size was
offensively dexterous.”[237] At another masquerade this year (16 May)
a Guy Faux, a ‘Bath Maccarony,’ an African Princess, and three or four
Romps attracted attention.

On May 7th, 1792, the exhibition called Mount Etna was introduced and
remained popular at Ranelagh for several years. A special building with
a scene designed by G. Marinari, ‘painter to the Opera,’ was prepared
for it in the gardens. The idea was evidently borrowed from Torré’s
Forge of Vulcan, the great attraction at the Marylebone Gardens some
twenty years earlier. The scene represented Mount Etna and the Cavern
of Vulcan with the ‘Cyclops’ forging the armour of Mars, “as described
(the advertisements add) in the Aeneid of Virgil.” To an accompaniment
of music “compiled from Gluck, Haydn, Giardini, and Handel,” we see the
‘Cyclops’ going to work. “The smoke thickens, the crater on the top of
Etna vomits forth flames, and the lava rolls dreadful along the side of
the mountain. This continues with increasing violence till there is a
prodigious eruption, which finishes with a tremendous explosion.”

On June 27th, 1793, the Chevalier D’Eon fenced in the Rotunda with M.
Sainville, and received the congratulations of the Prince of Wales and
Mrs. Fitzherbert.[238]

In 1797 (April) there was an enjoyable masquerade, at which there
reigned (we are told) “good nature and pleasant hilarity, without
riot”: all this, in spite of a crowd of imaginary Dutch skippers,
lunatics, coachmen, quack doctors and watercress girls.

At a concert in 1798 (June) Incledon and Madame Mara sang. In 1799 a
January masquerade was diversified by a drawing for fifty twelfth cakes
as prizes for the masks.

The Directors now began to offer prizes for regattas and volunteer
shooting-matches, and a few splendid entertainments mark the closing
years of Ranelagh.

On 2 June, 1802, Boodle’s Club gave an elegant dance at which the
ladies “wore white and silver, ornamented with laurel”--and diamonds,
and amused themselves by drawing prizes of trinkets in a Lottery
Booth. On the 28 June (1802) the Picnic Society gave an “afternoon
breakfast,” and at five o’clock Garnerin, the French aeronaut, and
Captain Sowden ascended in a balloon from the gardens.[239]

On 23 September (1802) Mr. Thomas Todd descended into a reservoir
of water twenty-five feet deep, prepared for him in the gardens.
His awkward diving-tub, and his dress of leather and metal excited
the laughter of spectators born too early to know the diver of the
Polytechnic. Nor is this praiseworthy experiment to be counted among
the splendid entertainments of Ranelagh, for Mr. Todd was “misfitted
by his coppersmith,” forgot to take down his lamp, and did not remain
under water more than five minutes.[240]

On 1 June, 1803, a ball in commemoration of the Installation of
the Knights of the Bath took place and proved one of the finest of
the entertainments. Yet these were only ‘struggles for happiness,’
and attempts to galvanise a nearly lifeless Ranelagh. The unending
promenade, with its sentimental songs and elegant regale of tea and
coffee, had ceased to attract, and the lamp-hung trees, the Chinese
House and the music on the Canal had lost their ancient charm. On 8
July, 1803, the Rotunda of Ranelagh was opened for the last time as a
place of amusement.

On 30 September, 1805, the proprietors gave directions for the
demolition of Ranelagh House and the Rotunda; the furniture was sold by
auction shortly afterwards, and the buildings were removed. The organ
was bought for Tetbury Church, Gloucestershire, where it remained till
1863, when it was purchased by a builder.

The Ranelagh grounds had extended from the old Burial Ground (east of
Chelsea Hospital) to the rivermarshes on the south, and the Chelsea
Bridge Road now crosses their eastern boundary. When the buildings were
removed the grounds were, by degrees, purchased of the shareholders
by General Richard R. Wilford to add to his property adjoining. A
poet of the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ in June 1807 laments the
Fall of Ranelagh, and the site already overgrown with weeds. The
foundation walls of the Rotunda and the arches of some of the cellars
could, however, be traced as late as 1813, and part of the site was
a favourite playground for Chelsea children. By 1826, the Ranelagh
grounds had become by purchase the property of Chelsea Hospital and
were parcelled out into allotments. The ground is, at the present time,
once more a ‘Ranelagh Garden,’ in which the public are admitted, as the
old advertisements would say, “to walk gratis.”

All traces of Ranelagh have been thus obliterated, and a London
historian (Jesse, _London_, iii, 420) on visiting the site in 1871,
could find as its memorial only a single avenue of trees with
one or two of the old lamp-irons--the ‘firetrees’ of the early
advertisements--still attached.

[From the numerous authorities, the following may be
selected:--_Gent. Mag._ 1742, 418, ff.; _Ranelagh House: a
Satire in prose_, London, 1747 (W. Coll.); Dodsley’s _London_,
1761; Sir John Fielding’s _Brief Description of London_,
1776; Burney’s _Hist. of Music_, iv. 668, ff.; Kearsley’s
_Strangers’ Guide_ (1793?); Lysons’s _Environs_, Supplement,
p. 120; Faulkner’s _Chelsea_, ii. 299, ff.; Blanchard in _The
Era Almanack_, 1870; Grove’s _Dict. of Music_, art. “Ranelagh
House,” by W. H. Husk; L’Estrange’s _Village of Palaces_, ii.
296; Walford, v. 76, ff.; Austin Dobson’s _Eighteenth Century
Vignettes_, 2nd ser. p. 263, ff.; collections relating to
Ranelagh in British Museum and Guildhall libraries, and a large
series of cuttings from newspapers, magazines, &c., W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

A good representative series of the principal early views of
Ranelagh is in the Crace Collection (_Catal._ p. 164; pp.
312–314). The site is well marked in Horwood’s Plan A, 1794.

STROMBOLO HOUSE AND GARDENS, CHELSEA

Strombolo House[241] was a minor place of entertainment, dating from
1762, or earlier, with tea-gardens and “a fine fountain”[242] attached
to it. The gardens[243] are said to have been most frequented about
1788. They were open chiefly in the afternoons of week-days and Sundays
for tea-drinking during the summer season. The house, opposite the
famous Royal Bun House, Chelsea, in Jew’s Row (now Pimlico Road), was
still standing in 1829, when Faulkner’s _Chelsea_ (second edition)
was published, but it appears to have been disused as a place of
amusement long before that date.

The ground was afterwards occupied by the Orange Tavern and tea-gardens
to which was attached the Orange Theatre, a small private playhouse,
where local geniuses performed (1831–32). St. Barnabas Church, Pimlico,
built 1848–1850, standing off the south side of Pimlico Road (entrance
in Church Street) is now nearly on the site.

[O’Keefe’s _Recollections_, i. p. 88; Faulkner’s _Chelsea_,
ii. p. 357; Davis’s _Knightsbridge_ (1859), p. 263; Wheatley’s
_London P. and P._ s.v. “Strombello”; Timbs’s _Club Life_
(1866), ii. p. 260.]

STAR AND GARTER TAVERN AND GARDENS, CHELSEA

In the grounds attached to the Star and Garter Tavern in the Five
Fields between Chelsea and Pimlico,[244] displays of fireworks and
horsemanship took place in 1762 (July-September) to celebrate the birth
of the Prince of Wales, and the visit of the chiefs of the Cherokee
Indians[245] who were duly exploited by the proprietor. Carlo Genovini,
an Italian artificer, exhibited stars and moving suns, a guilloche of a
varied coloured rose, reprises of water cascades and many pyrotechnic
devices, together with the Temple of Liberty, a machine thirty-two feet
long and forty high “painted in a theatrical manner” with Britannia
triumphant over the portico. The fireworks began at eight or nine and
the tickets were usually half-a-crown.

On other evenings at seven o’clock Thomas Johnson, the well-known
equestrian, performed feats with two and three horses similar to
those undertaken by him at the Three Hats, Islington. The admission
was one shilling. The proprietor of the Star and Garter also kept the
neighbouring Dwarf’s Tavern, with Coan, “the jovial Pigmy,” as Major
Domo,[246] and to this place visitors were invited to adjourn after the
fireworks, there to sup on “a most excellent ham, some collared eels,
potted beef, etc., with plenty of sound old bright wine and punch like
nectar.”[247]

[Faulkner’s _Chelsea_, ii. 354–356, where further details
of the fireworks and horsemanship may be found; Davis’s
_Knightsbridge_, p. 264.]

JENNY’S WHIM, PIMLICO

St. George’s Row, near Ebury Bridge, formerly called The Wooden Bridge
or Jenny’s Whim Bridge, marks the site of Jenny’s Whim, a tavern and
pleasure-garden popular in the last century.

Jenny’s Whim is said to have been established as a place of amusement
by a firework artificer and theatrical machinist, in the reign of
George II. About 1750 it appears to have been a good deal frequented
during the day-time, and people of rank and fashion occasionally
visited it. Walpole once encountered Lord Granby “arrived very drunk
from Jenny’s Whim,” where he “had dined with Lady Fanny [Seymour] and
left her and eight other women and four other men playing at Brag.”

A writer in _The Connoisseur_ comparing it in 1755 with Ranelagh
and Vauxhall, describes it, however, as a resort of “the lower sort of
people,” rather than of the quality.

[Illustration: _A West VIEW OF Chelsea BRIDGE
... Un VUE du Pont de Chelsea du COTE du ‘Vest._

SHOWING JENNY’S WHIM, 1761.]

The gardens possessed, in addition to the usual bowers, alcoves and
prim flowerbeds, a bowling-green, a grotto, a cock-pit and a ducking
pond. In the centre was a large fish pond. Mechanical devices, similar
to those at New Georgia, Hampstead, attracted many visitors. A
Harlequin, a Mother Shipton, or some terrific monster, started up in
the recesses of the garden when an unsuspected spring was trodden upon,
and huge fish and mermaids rose at intervals from the water of the
pond.

The admission about 1755 appears to have been sixpence.

Before the close of the eighteenth century, the popularity of the place
had declined, though it was still frequented as a summer tea-garden,
and by 1804 Jenny’s Whim had become a mere public-house. The house,
a red brick building with lattice work, containing a large room
originally used for breakfasting parties, continued in existence for
many years, and was not pulled down till 1865.

[Walford, v. 45., ff.; Walpole’s _Letters_, ii. 212, 23 June,
1750; _The Connoisseur_, No. 68, 15 May, 1755; _Low Life_, 1764;
Davis’s _Knightsbridge_, 253, ff.; _Notes and Queries_, 3rd ser.
viii. 166; Angelo’s _Picnic_ (1834), s.v.]

VIEWS.

1. The north front of Jenny’s Whim Bridge and the Old Public
House at the foot of the Bridge, water colour drawing, 1761.
Crace, _Cat._ p. 311, No. 58.

2. “A west view of Chelsea Bridge” (showing Jenny’s Whim).
Boreman pinx. Lodge sculp. (1761), W. Coll.; Crace, _Cat._
p. 311, No. 59 (cp. Walford, v. 43).

CROMWELL’S GARDENS,

Afterwards FLORIDA GARDENS, BROMPTON

Cromwell’s Gardens consisted of grounds immediately adjoining (and
perhaps at one time belonging to) Hale House, Brompton, a mansion
popularly known as Cromwell House from a tradition, seemingly
unfounded, that the Protector or his family had once resided there.
Some of the entrance tickets of Cromwell’s Gardens consisted of rude
imitations of Oliver’s pattern-shillings, and had his effigy on the
obverse.

The Gardens were in existence at least as early as 1762,[248] and in
1776 they are described as frequented by fashionable gentlemen of
Kensington and the West End, and by various ladies who were apparently
not always of irreproachable character. Brompton was then and long
afterwards in the midst of gardens and nurseries, and was noted for its
salubrious air. Cromwell’s Gardens were within a pleasant rural walk
from the Park, Chelsea and Knightsbridge. The grounds were neatly kept:
there were “agreeable” arbours for drinking tea and coffee, and in one
part of the garden trees, curiously cut, surrounded an elevated grass
plat. Their retired situation rendered them (in the opinion of the
“Sunday Rambler”) “well adapted for gallantry and intrigue.”

Music of some kind seems to have been provided, and at one time
equestrian performances in the open air were exhibited by Charles
Hughes, the well-known rider, who in 1782 founded with Dibdin the Royal
Circus, afterwards the Surrey Theatre. The admission was sixpence,[249]
and the gardens were open at least as late as nine at night.[250]

In 1781 (or 1780) the gardens were in the hands of Mr. R. Hiem, a
German florist, who grew his cherries, strawberries, and flowers there.
About that time he changed the name to Florida Gardens,[251] erected
a great room for dining in the centre of the gardens, and opened the
place to the public at a charge of sixpence. A bowling-green was formed
and a band (said to be subscribed for by the nobility and gentry)
played twice a week during the summer. An air-balloon and fireworks
were announced for 10 September, 1784. It was a pleasant place where
visitors could gather flowers, and fruit “fresh every hour in the
day,” and take the light refreshment of tea, coffee, and ice creams,
or wine and cyder if they preferred it. Hiem specially recommended his
Bern Veckley as “an elegant succedaneum for bread and butter, and eat
by the Noblesse of Switzerland.” However, like many proprietors of
pleasure-gardens, he subsequently became bankrupt, between 1787 and
1797 (?).

Maria, Duchess of Gloucester, having procured a lease (before September
1797)[252] of the place, built there a villa, at first called Maria
Lodge, then Orford Lodge, at which she died in 1807. Shortly after
1807 the premises consisting of about six acres were purchased by
the Rt. Hon. George Canning, who changed the name of the house to
Gloucester Lodge, and lived there for many years.

The house was pulled down about 1850 and the ground let on building
leases. Part of Courtfield Road, Ashburn Place, and perhaps other
streets, occupy the site of Gloucester Lodge which stood immediately
south of the present Cromwell Road, and west of Gloucester Road near
the point where the Gloucester Road intersects Cromwell Road.

[_Sunday Ramble_ (1776); _A Modern Sabbath_ (1797), chap.
vii.; Faulkner’s _Kensington_ (1820), pp. 438, 441; Lysons’s
_Environs_, supplement to first ed. (1811), p. 215; Wheatley,
_London P. and P._ s.v. “Cromwell House” and “Gloucester Lodge”;
Fores’s _New Guide_ (1789), preface, p. vi.; _The Public
Advertiser_, 10 July, 1789; _The Morning Herald_, 7 July, 1786;
and newspaper cuttings in W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

There seem to be no views of the Cromwell and Florida Gardens.
There is a view of the garden front of Gloucester Lodge in
Jerdan’s _Autobiography_ (1852), vol. ii. frontispiece.

SOUTH LONDON GROUP

BERMONDSEY SPA GARDENS

The Bermondsey Spa Gardens owe such celebrity as they attained to the
enterprise of their founder and proprietor, Thomas Keyse, a self-taught
artist, born in 1722, who painted skilful imitations of still life
and exhibited pictures at the Royal Academy. About 1765 he purchased
the Waterman’s Arms, a tavern in Bermondsey, together with some waste
ground adjoining, and opened the place as a tea-garden, exhibiting
there a collection of his own pictures. At that time, and for several
years in the present century, Bermondsey was surrounded by open country.

About 1770 a chalybeate spring was discovered in the grounds, and
Keyse’s establishment thereupon acquired the name of the Bermondsey
Spa Gardens. Keyse was a cheery, ingenious landlord, remarkable among
other things for his preparation of cherry-brandy. In 1784 he obtained
a license for music from the Surrey magistrates, and spent £4,000 in
improvements. The gardens (covering not less than four acres) were
opened during the summer months on week-day evenings and Sundays, and
the price of admission on week-days was a shilling. Each visitor was,
however, given on entering a metal check,[253] which was exchanged
for refreshments to the extent of sixpence. On special occasions the
admission was half-a-crown or three shillings.

In the gardens were the usual arbours and benches for tea-drinking. The
space before the orchestra was about a quarter of the size of that at
Vauxhall, and on the north-east of the garden was a lawn of about three
acres. A row of trees leading from the entrance to the picture gallery
was hung at night with lamps of red, blue, green, and white, in humble
imitation of the Grand Walk at Vauxhall.[254]

Jonas Blewitt, one of the most distinguished organists of the latter
half of the eighteenth century, composed the music of many songs for
the entertainments at the Spa.[255] The Spa poets were Mr. J. Oakman
and Mr. Harriss. Songs of hunting, drinking, and seafaring took their
turn with ditties full of what may be described as sprightly sentiment.
The other music[256] consisted of burlettas, duets, and interludes,
performed by vocalists of only local fame. In a burletta called the
‘Friars,’ certain nuns who had been forced by wicked guardians to take
the veil, make their escape with the assistance of two friars. These
reverend men, after singing an anacreontic song, divide the gold which
the ladies have given them as their reward, and the whole concludes
with a chorus. The words of the burlettas and songs were printed in
little books, sold for sixpence at the bar and in the exhibition
room.[257]

An occasional display of fireworks took place, and the gardens and a
cascade (introduced about 1792) were illuminated.[258] From time to
time there was a representation of the Siege of Gibraltar by means
of fireworks, transparencies and bomb shells.[259] The apparatus for
the Siege, which was designed by Keyse himself, was set up in a field
divided from the lawn by a sunk fence, the rock being fifty feet high
and two hundred feet long. The blowing up of the floating batteries and
the sinking of boats in ‘fictitious water’ were (we are assured) ‘so
truly represented as to give a very strong idea of the real Siege.’

A permanent attraction was the Gallery of Paintings, an oblong room
described as being about the same size as W. M. Turner’s studio
in Queen Anne’s Street. Here were exhibited Keyse’s pictorial
reproductions of a Butcher’s Shop and a Greengrocer’s Stall and many
other paintings, including a Vesuvius, and a candle that looked as if
it were really lighted.

On the whole, the Bermondsey Spa appears to have been a respectable,
though hardly fashionable, resort, which brought its proprietor a
moderate income and supplied harmless, if not very exalted, means of
recreation.

It being not unnecessary to provide for the safe convoy of the visitors
after nightfall, Keyse inserted the following advertisement in the
newspapers:--“The Spa Gardens, in Grange Road, Bermondsey, one mile
[the distance is rather understated] from London Bridge; for the
security of the public the road is lighted and watched by patroles
every night, at the sole expense of the proprietor.” The lighting
and patrolling were probably somewhat mythical, but no doubt the
announcement served to reassure the timid.

J. T. Smith, the author of _A Book for a Rainy Day_, has left a
graphic description of a visit that he paid on a bright July evening of
1795. The popularity of the gardens was then waning, and on entering he
found no one there but three idle waiters. A board with a ruffled hand
within a sky-blue painted sleeve directed him to the staircase which
led “To the Gallery of Paintings,” and he made a solitary tour of the
room.

The rest of the visit may be described in Smith’s own words. “Stepping
back to study the picture of the ‘Greenstall,’ I ask your pardon,’
said I, for I had trodden upon some one’s toes. ‘Sir, it is granted,’
replied a little, thick-set man, with a round face, arch look, and
closely-curled wig, surmounted by a small three-cornered hat put very
knowingly on one side, not unlike Hogarth’s head in his print of the
‘Gates of Calais.’ ‘You are an artist, I presume; I noticed you from
the end of the gallery, when you first stepped back to look at my best
picture. I painted all the objects in this room from nature and still
life.’ ‘Your Greengrocer’s Shop,’ said I, ‘is inimitable; the drops of
water on that savoy appear as if they had just fallen from the element.
Van Huysum could not have pencilled them with greater delicacy.’
‘What do you think,’ said he, ‘of my Butcher’s Shop?’ ‘Your pluck is
bleeding fresh, and your sweetbread is in a clean plate.’ ‘How do you
like my bull’s eye?’ ‘Why, it would be a most excellent one for Adams
or Dollond to lecture upon. Your knuckle of veal is the finest I ever
saw.’ ‘It’s young meat,’ replied he; ‘anyone who is a judge of meat can
tell that from the blueness of its bone.’ ‘What a beautiful white you
have used on the fat of that Southdown leg! or is it Bagshot?’ ‘Yes,’
said he, ‘my solitary visitor, it is Bagshot: and as for my white, that
is the best Nottingham, which you or any artist can procure at Stone
& Puncheon’s, in Bishopsgate Street Within.’ ‘Sir Joshua Reynolds,’
continued Mr. Keyse, ‘paid me two visits. On the second, he asked me
what white I had used; and when I told him, he observed, ‘It’s very
extraordinary, sir, how it keeps so bright. I use the same.’ ‘Not
at all, sir,’ I rejoined: ‘the doors of this gallery are open day
and night; and the admission of fresh air, together with the great
expansion of light from the sashes above, will never suffer the white
to turn yellow. Have you not observed, Sir Joshua, how white the posts
and rails on the public roads are, though they have not been repainted
for years; that arises from constant air and bleaching.’ ‘Come,’ said
Mr. Keyse, putting his hand upon my shoulder, ‘the bell rings, not for
prayers, nor for dinner, but for the song.’

“As soon as we had reached the orchestra, the singer curtsied to us,
for we were the only persons in the gardens. ‘This is sad work,’ said
he, ‘but the woman must sing, according to our contract.’ I recollect
that the singer was handsome, most dashingly dressed, immensely
plumed, and villainously rouged; she smiled as she sang, but it was not
the bewitching smile of Mrs. Wrighten, then applauded by thousands at
Vauxhall Gardens. As soon as the Spa lady had ended her song, Keyse,
after joining me in applause, apologised for doing so, by observing
that as he never suffered his servants to applaud, and as the people
in the road (whose ears were close to the cracks in the paling to hear
the song) would make a bad report if they had not heard more than
the clapping of one pair of hands, he had in this instance expressed
his reluctant feelings. As the lady retired from the front of the
orchestra, she, to keep herself in practice, curtsied to me with as
much respect as she would had Colonel Topham been the patron of a
gala-night. ‘This is too bad,’ again observed Mr. Keyse, ‘and I am sure
you cannot expect fireworks!’ However, he politely asked me to partake
of a bottle of Lisbon, which upon my refusing, he pressed me to accept
of a catalogue of his pictures.”

Keyse died in his house at the Gardens on 8 February, 1800[260] and
his pictures were subsequently sold by auction. His successors in the
management of the Bermondsey Spa failed to make it pay,[261] and it was
closed about 1804.[262] The Site, now in Spa Road, was afterwards built
upon.

[Lysons’s _Environs_, vol. i. (1792), p. 558; Smith’s _Book
for a Rainy Day_, p. 135, ff. under “1795”; G. W. Phillips’s
_History and Antiquities of Bermondsey_, 1841, pp. 84, 85;
_Dict. Nat. Biog._ art. “Keyse”; Walford, vi. 128, 129;
_Histories of Surrey_; E. L. Blanchard in the _Era Almanack_
for 1870, p. 18; Rendle and Norman’s _Inns of Old Southwark_,
pp. 394–396; _A Modern Sabbath_ (1797), chap. ix.; Kearsley’s
_Strangers’ Guide to London_ (1793?); Fores’s _New Guide_
(1789), preface, p. vi.; _Picture of London_, 1802, p. 370,
where “the pictures of the late Mr. Keys” are mentioned; “Public
Gardens” Coll. in Guildhall Library, London; _Description of
some of the Paintings in the Perpetual Exhibition at Bermondsey
Spa_, Horselydown (_circ._ 1785?) 8vo. (W. Coll.). Song-books
(words only) of Bermondsey Spa, W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

A pen and ink sketch of Bermondsey Spa and a portrait of Keyse
were in J. H. Burn’s Collection, and at his sale at Puttick’s
were bought by Mr. Gardner (_Notes and Queries_, 6th ser.
i. 506).

ST. HELENA GARDENS, ROTHERHITHE

These gardens were opened in 1770, and in May 1776 music and dancing
were advertised to take place there in the evenings. Towards the
close of the century the Prince of Wales (George IV.) and various
fashionable people are said to have occasionally visited the place.
St. Helena’s was a good deal frequented as a tea-garden during the
first thirty years of the nineteenth century,[263] chiefly by the
dockyard population of the neighbourhood. In 1831 fireworks and other
entertainments were introduced on the week-day evenings and the place
was for some years styled the Eastern Vauxhall. In 1832 the gardens
occupied about five acres and a half, and in this year the performers
advertised included Mr. G. R. Chapman “from the Adelphi and Astley’s”
as organist and musical director, Mrs. Venning, “from the Nobility’s
Concerts,” Miss Wood, “the Infant Prodigy, only six years of age,”
and Miss Taylor who performed “many difficult airs on that delightful
instrument, the Musical Glasses.” Concerts, dancing and other
amusements continued till about 1869 when the gardens appear to have
been closed.

[Illustration: _S^t. Helena Tavern and Tea Gardens._

_Rotherhithe._]

In 1874, the gardens passed into the hands of Messrs. W. H. and J.
R. Carter who erected an orchestra and a dancing platform, and
provided music and fireworks for an admission of sixpence. The gardens
had fallen into a neglected state, but the walks were once more well
laid out, and the old chestnut trees, the elms and planes were still
standing.

[Illustration: ORCHESTRA AND DANCING-PLATFORM, ST. HELENA
GARDENS, _circ._ 1875.]

The gardens ceased to exist in 1881 and were eventually built
over.[264] The site was to the west of Deptford Lower Road, and
just south of Corbett’s Lane and the present St. Helena Road. St.
Katharine’s Church (consecrated 18 October, 1884) in Eugenia Road
(south of St. Helena Road) stands on part of the site.

[Newspaper cuttings, W. Coll.; and see notes.]

VIEWS.

1. The entrance to the St. Helena Tavern and tea-garden,
water-colour drawing, signed R. B. 7 June, 1839 (W. Coll.).

2. Admission ticket in white metal. Size 1·5 inch. Nineteenth
century, _circ._ 1839? (British Museum). _Obverse_:
View of the entrance to the tavern and gardens (similar to No.
1); in foreground, two posts supporting semi-circular board
inscribed “St. Helena Tavern and Tea Gardens. Dinners dress’d”:
in exergue, “Rotherhithe.” _Reverse_: “Refreshment to the
value of sixpence” within floral wreath.

3. Lithographed poster of the St. Helena Gardens, _circ._
1875, showing the orchestra, dancing-platform, and gardens
illuminated at night (W. Coll.).

FINCH’S GROTTO GARDENS

Finch’s Grotto Gardens situated on the western side of St. George’s
Street, Southwark, near St. George’s Fields,[265] derived their name
from Thomas Finch, a Herald Painter, who, having inherited from a
relation a house and garden, opened both for the entertainment of
the public in the spring of 1760. The garden possessed some lofty
trees, and was planted with evergreens and shrubs. In the centre was
a medicinal spring over which Finch constructed a grotto, wherein a
fountain played over artificial embankments and formed “a natural and
beautiful cascade.” The spring enjoyed some local celebrity, and was
recommended to his patients by a doctor named Townshend, who resided in
the Haymarket and afterwards in St. George’s Fields. In our own time
Dr. Rendle has described the water as “merely the filtered soakage of
a supersaturated soil,” which could be obtained almost anywhere in
Southwark.

A subscription ticket of a guinea entitled the holder to such benefits,
as Finch’s spring conferred and gave admission to the evening
entertainments that were introduced from about 1764. The ordinary
admission was a shilling, raised on special nights to two shillings.
The gardens were open on Sunday when sixpence was charged, though the
visitor was entitled for his money to tea, half a pint of wine, cakes,
jelly or cyder.

[Illustration: ADMISSION TICKET, FINCH’S GROTTO.]

An orchestra containing an organ by Pike, of Bloomsbury, stood in the
garden, and there was another orchestra attached to a large octagonal
music-room decorated with paintings and festoons of flowers. This
Octagon Room was used for occasional balls and for the promenade and
concert on wet evenings.

The place appears to have been respectably conducted, but there is
little evidence that it was ever a modish resort, in spite of the
assertion of the country-bred Mrs. Hardcastle[266] that no one could
“have a manner that has never seen the Pantheon, the Grotto Gardens,
the Borough and such places where the nobility chiefly resort.”[267]

The vocal and instrumental concerts which took place every evening
in the season (May-September) were of a creditable though not very
ambitious character. About fifteen hundred persons are said to have
been present on some of the Freemasons’ nights and on the benefit
nights of the performers.

[Illustration: _M^{rs}. Baddely._]

Numerous singers and instrumentalists were engaged,[268] of whom the
best known are Robert Hudson the organist, Miss Snow and Thomas Lowe.
Sophia Snow, the daughter of Valentine Snow, sergeant trumpeter to the
King, married Robert Baddeley the comedian, who introduced her to the
stage at Drury Lane in 1765. As Mrs. Baddeley, she became notorious for
her beauty and intrigues. She had some powers as an actress in genteel
comedy and her melodious voice made her popular at Ranelagh (from 1770)
and Vauxhall.

Lowe was the well-known tenor singer of Vauxhall and lessee of
Marylebone Gardens from 1763 to 1768. Becoming bankrupt in 1768, he
was glad to accept engagements at the humbler Finch’s Grotto. He was
announced to sing in August 1769, and appeared under the designation of
Brother Lowe at one of the Freemasons’ Concerts at the Grotto.

Finch died on October 23, 1770, and his successor, a Mr. Williams,
advertised the place as Williams’s Grotto Gardens. The concerts were
continued and among the musical entertainments were Bates’s “The
Gamester” (1771) and Barnshaw’s “Linco’s Travels.”[269]

The programmes of entertainments under Finch and Williams included
concertos on the organ, pieces for horns and clarionets, Handel’s
Coronation Anthem, an Ode to Summer with music by Brewster, and songs,
such as “Thro’ the Wood, Laddie”; “Water parted from the Sea”; “Oh
what a charming thing is a Battle”; “British Wives”; “O’er Mountains
and Moorlands”; “Cupid’s Recruiting Sergeant” (with drum and fife
accompaniment); “Swift Wing’d Vengeance,” from Bates’s Pharnaces;
“Shepherds cease your soft complainings;” a satirical song on Garrick’s
Stratford Jubilee; “Hark, hark, the joy inspiring horn”; “The Season of
Love,” sung by Mr. Dearle, (1765):--

Bright Sol is return’d and the Winter is o’er,
O come then, Philander, with Sylvia away.[270]

Fireworks were occasionally displayed, and when a ball was given,
the place was illuminated at a cost of about five pounds, and horns
and clarionets played till twelve in the garden. In 1771 and 1772 a
grand transparent painting forty feet wide and thirty high, with
illuminations, was displayed. Over the centre arch of this masterpiece
was a medallion of Neptune supported by Tritons: on each side were
two fountains “with serpents jetting water, representing different
coloured crystal.” On one wing was Neptune drawn by sea-horses; on the
other, Venus rising from the sea; and the back arches showed a distant
prospect of the sea. In June 1771 a representation was given “of the
famous Fall of Water call’d Pystill Rhiader near the seat of Sir Watkin
Williams Wynne, Bart., in Denbighshire.”

Apparently these entertainments failed to pay the proprietor and in
1773 (?) he pulled down the grotto over the spring and rooted up the
shrubs to form a skittle ground in connection with the tavern, which
still continued to be carried on.

About 1777 the “messuages and lands known as the Grotto Gardens” were
purchased for the parish of St. Saviour’s, Southwark, part of the
ground being used for the erection of a workhouse and part for a Burial
Ground (consecrated in 1780). In 1799 the Workhouse was sold to Mr.
John Harris, hat manufacturer, and M.P. for Southwark in 1830, who used
it as his manufactory and residence. Some relics of the old Grotto were
to be found many years after the closing of the Gardens, notably the
Octagon Room, which was converted into a mill and at one time used as
the armoury of the Southwark Volunteers.

In 1824 “a very large and old mulberry tree” was standing at the
end of a long range of wooden tea-rooms formerly belonging to the
gardens and converted into inferior cottages. Behind the cottages was
a water-course derived from Loman’s Pond dividing them from a field,
once part of the gardens, though only occupied at that time by dust and
rubbish.

The tavern attached to the Gardens continued to be carried on under
the sign of the Grotto till 28 May, 1795, when it was destroyed
by fire. The new tavern erected in its place bore the sign of The
Goldsmith’s Arms, and afterwards of the “Old Grotto new reviv’d.”

In the front of this house was inserted a stone bearing the
inscription:--

Here Herbs did grow
And Flowers sweet,
But now ’tis call’d
Saint George’s Street.[271]

This building was removed for the formation of the present Southwark
Bridge Road in 1825 and a public house named The Goldsmith’s
Arms--still standing--was built on the western side of the new road,
more upon the site of the old Grotto Gardens. The main site of the
gardens is now occupied by the large red-brick building, which forms
the headquarters of the Metropolitan Fire Brigade.

[Wilkinson’s _Londina Illustrata_, vol. ii., “Finch’s Grotto
Gardens”; Manning and Bray’s _Surrey_, iii. 591; Brayley and
Mantell’s _Surrey_, v. 371; Rendle and Norman’s _Inns of Old
Southwark_, 360–364; Walford, vi. 64; newspaper cuttings, W.
Coll.]

VIEWS.

The only view is one of the second tavern published in
Wilkinson’s _Londina Illustrata_, 1825:--

“South-east view of the Grotto, now the Goldsmith’s Arms in the
Parish of St. George’s, Southwark.” This shows the inscription:
“Here Herbs did grow.”

CUPER’S GARDENS

Cuper’s Gardens, a notable resort during the first half of the last
century, owe their name and origin to Boyder Cuper, who rented, in the
parish of Lambeth on the south side of the Thames opposite Somerset
House, a narrow strip of meadow land surrounded by water-courses.

About 1691 or earlier he opened the place as a pleasure garden with
agreeable walks and arbours and some good bowling-greens. As an old
servant of the Howard family he obtained the gift of some of the
statues that had been removed when Arundel House in the Strand was
pulled down. These, though mutilated and headless, appeared to the
proprietor to give classic distinction to his garden, and they remained
there till 1717, when his successor, a John Cuper, sold these ‘Arundel
Marbles’ for £75.[272]

During the first twenty or thirty years of the last century, Cuper’s
was a good deal frequented in the summer-time. A tavern by the
waterside, called The Feathers, was connected with the grounds.

It is not certain that music and dancing were provided at this period,
and the company appears to have consisted chiefly of young attorneys’
clerks and Fleet Street sempstresses, with a few City dames, escorted
by their husbands’ ’prentices, who (perhaps after paying a visit
to the floating ‘Folly’) sat in the arbours singing, laughing, and
regaling themselves with bottle-ale.[273]

The place was popularly known as Cupid’s Gardens, and is even thus
denominated in maps of the last century. This name is preserved in the
traditional song, once very popular, “’Twas down in Cupid’s Garden”:--

’Twas down in Cupid’s Garden
For pleasure I did go,
To see the fairest flowers
That in that garden grow:
The first it was the jessamine,
The lily, pink and rose,
And surely they’re the fairest flowers
That in that garden grows.[274]

In 1738 the tavern and gardens were taken by Ephraim Evans, a publican
who had kept the Hercules Pillars opposite St. Dunstan’s Church, Fleet
Street. During his tenancy (1738–1740) he improved the gardens and
erected an orchestra in which was set up an organ by Bridge. A band
played from six till ten and Jones, the blind Welsh harper, was engaged
to perform selections from Handel and Corelli. The admission was then
and thenceforward one shilling, and the gardens were opened on Sunday
free of charge.[275] It was announced that care would be taken to keep
out bad company and that no servant in livery would be admitted to walk
in the garden.

[Illustration: VIEW OF THE SAVOY, SOMERSET HOUSE AND THE
WATER ENTRANCE TO CUPER’S GARDEN.

_From a picture in the Collection of_

THE REV^D. PHILIP DUVAL, D.D. & F.A.S.]

There was a back way to the gardens leading from St. George’s Fields,
and watchmen were appointed “to guard those who go over the fields late
at night.” The favourite approach, however, was by water, and the
visitors landed at Cuper’s Stairs, a few yards east of the present
Waterloo Bridge. The season lasted from April or May till the beginning
of September.

Evans died on 14 October, 1740,[276] but the tavern and gardens were
carried on by his widow. It was under the spirited management of
the widow Evans that Cuper’s Gardens especially flourished, and her
advertisements figure frequently in the newspapers (1741–1759). ‘The
Widow,’ as she was called, presided at the bar during the evening and
complimentary visitors described her as “a woman of discretion” and
“a well-looking comely person.” By providing good music and elaborate
fireworks, she attracted a good deal of fashionable patronage. The
Prince and Princess of Wales visited the place and some of Horace
Walpole’s friends,[277] Lord Bath and Lord Sandys, for instance, both
of whom had their pockets picked there. The well-dressed sharper was,
in fact, by no means unknown at Cuper’s. One night in 1743 a man was
caught stealing from a young lady a purse containing four guineas, and
while being taken by a constable to Lambeth was rescued by a gang of
thieves in St. George’s Fields. On the whole, Cuper’s was looked upon
as a decidedly rakish place at which a prudent young lady was not to be
seen alone with a gentleman.[278]

For the evening concert of 16 June, 1741, Mrs. Evans announced “a new
grand concerto for the organ by the author, Mr. Henry Burgess, junior,
of whom it may be said without ostentation that he is of as promising
a genius and as neat a performer as any of the age.” Composers better
known to fame than Mr. Henry Burgess, junior, were also represented.
The programme, for instance, of one July evening in 1741 consisted
of “The Overture in Saul, with several grand choruses composed by
Mr. Handel”; the eighth concerto of Corelli; a hautboy concerto by
Sig. Hasse; “Blow, blow thou wintry wind,” and other favourite songs
composed by the ingenious Mr. Arne, and the whole concluded with a
new grand piece of music, an original composition by Handel, called
‘Portobello,’ in honour of the popular hero, Admiral Vernon, “who took
Portobello with six ships only.” On other occasions there were vocal
performances (1748–1750) by Signora Sibilla and by Master Mattocks.
The Signora was Sibilla Gronamann, daughter of a German pastor and the
first wife of Thomas Pinto, the violinist. She died in or before 1766.
Mattocks, who had “a sweet and soft voice,” was afterwards an operatic
actor at Covent Garden. Mrs. Mattocks sang at the gardens in 1750.

After the concert, at half-past nine or ten, a gun gave the signal for
the fireworks for which the place was renowned.

On 18 July, 1741, the Fire Music from Handel’s opera, “Atalanta,”
was given, the fireworks consisting of wheels, fountains, large
sky-rockets, “with an addition of the fire-pump, &c., made by the
ingenious Mr. Worman, who originally projected it for the opera” when
performed in 1736. The _Daily Advertiser_ for 28 June, 1743,
announced that “this night will be burnt the Gorgon’s head ... in
history said to have snakes on her hair and to kill men by her looks,
such a thing as was never known to be done in England before.” For
another night (4 September, 1749) the entertainment was announced to
conclude with “a curious and magnificent firework, which has given
great satisfaction to the nobility, wherein Neptune will be drawn on
the canal by sea-horses and set fire to an Archimedan (_sic_) worm
and return to the Grotto.”

In 1746 (August 14) there was a special display to celebrate “the
glorious victory obtained over the rebels” by the Duke of Cumberland,
consisting of emblematic figures and magnificent fireworks, with
“triumphant arches burning in various colours.” In 1749 (May) there
was a miniature reproduction with transparencies and fireworks of
the Allegorical Temple that had been displayed in the Green Park on
27 April, 1749, to commemorate the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle. At the
opening of the gardens on April 30 for the season of 1750, the edifice
from which the fireworks were displayed was altered “into an exact
model of that at the Hague, made on account of the General Peace.”

The season of 1752, practically the last at Cuper’s, lasted from
May till near the end of September. The principal vocalist was Miss
Maria Bennett.[279] The fireworks and scenic effects were novel and
elaborate. A song commemorating the Prince of Wales’s birthday was
“shown curiously in fireworks in the front of the machine.” The
fireworks building, when the curtain was withdrawn, disclosed a
perspective view of the city of Rhodes--sea, buildings, and landscape,
with a model of the Colossus, from under which Neptune issued forth
and set fire to a grand pyramid in the middle of the canal. Dolphins
spouted water; water-wheels and rockets threw up air-balloons and suns
blazed on the summit of the building.

On one occasion the crowd near the fireworks was so great that a
gentleman took up his position in a tree, and when St. George and the
Dragon came to a close engagement and the clockwork began to move the
arms of St. George to pierce the Dragon, he let go his hands to clap
like the rest and fell headlong upon the bystanders.[280]

The ‘Inspector’ of the _London Daily Advertiser_ took his friend
the old Major, to Cupid’s Gardens (as they were still called) on a
pleasant August evening in this year. The Major was delighted with all
he saw. “Now I like this. I am always pleased when I see other people
happy: the folks that are rambling about among the trees there; the
jovial countenances of them delight me ... here’s all the festivity and
all the harmless indulgence of a country wake.”[281]

The country wake element was in evidence late in the evening, and
constables stationed at the gate had occasionally to interfere. One
night, for instance, a pretty young woman, accompanied by a friend,
promenaded the gardens dressed as a man wearing a long sword. No small
sensation was caused in the miscellaneous company, which included a
physician, a templar, a berouged old lady and her granddaughter, and
the sedate wife of a Cheapside fur-seller. “A spirited young thing with
a lively air and smart cock of her hat” passed by. “Gad,” said she, as
she tripped along, “I don’t see there’s anything in it; give us their
cloathes and we shall look as sharp and as rakish as they do.” “What an
air! what a gate! what a tread the baggage has!” exclaimed another.

But the days of Cuper’s were numbered. In the early part of 1752 the
statute-book had been dignified by the addition of 25 George II., cap.
36, entitled, “An Act for the better preventing thefts and robberies
and for regulating places of public entertainment and punishing
persons keeping disorderly houses.” By section 2 of this enactment
it was required that every house, room, garden, or other place kept
for public dancing or music, &c., within the cities of London and
Westminster, or twenty miles thereof, should be under a licence. The
Act took effect from December 1, 1752, and the necessary licence for
the season of 1753 was refused to the management of Cuper’s Gardens.
The widow Evans complained bitterly that she was denied the liberty of
opening her gardens, a misfortune attributed by her to the malicious
representations of ill-meaning persons, but which was really owing,
no doubt, to the circumstance that Cuper’s was degenerating into the
place which Pennant says he remembered as the scene of low dissipation.
Meanwhile Mrs. Evans threw open the grounds (June 1753) as a tea-garden
in connection with the Feathers, and the walks were “kept in pleasant
order.”

In the summer of 1755 entertainments of the old character were revived,
but they were advertised as fifteen private evening concerts and
fireworks, open only to subscribers, a one guinea ticket admitting two
persons. It is to be suspected that the subscription was mythical, and
was a mere device to evade the Act. However, a band was engaged, and
on June 23 loyal visitors to Cuper’s commemorated the accession of
King George to the throne by a concert and fireworks. Clitherow, who
had been the engineer of Cuper’s fireworks from 1750 (or earlier), was
again employed, but had to publish in the newspapers a lame apology for
the failure of the Engagement on the Water on the night of August 2
(1755), a failure which he explained was not due to his want of skill
but “owing to part of the machinery for moving the shipping being
clogg’d by some unaccountable accident, and the powder in the ships
having unfortunately got a little damp.”

From 1756–1759 Cuper’s Gardens were again used as the tea-garden
of the Feathers. There was no longer a Band of Musick but (as the
advertisements express it) “there still remains some harmony from the
sweet enchanting sounds of rural warblers.”

The last recorded entertainment at the place was a special concert
given on August 30, 1759 by “a select number of gentlemen for their
own private diversion,” who had “composed an ode alluding to the late
decisive action of Prince Ferdinand.” Any lady or gentleman inspired
by Prussian glory was admitted to this entertainment on payment of a
shilling.

For several years the gardens remained unoccupied, but from about 1768
three acres of them were leased to the firm of Beaufoy, the producers
of British wines and vinegar. The orchestra, or rather the edifice
used from 1750 for the fireworks, was utilised for the distillery. Dr.
Johnson once passed by the gardens: “Beauclerk, I, and Langton, and
Lady Sydney Beauclerk, mother to our friend, were one day driving in
a coach by Cuper’s Gardens which were then unoccupied. I, in sport,
proposed that Beauclerk, and Langton, and myself, should take them, and
we amused ourselves with scheming how we should all do our parts. Lady
Sydney grew angry and said, ‘An old man should not put such things in
young people’s heads.’ She had no notion of a joke, sir; had come late
into life, and had a mighty unpliable understanding.”[282]

[Illustration: PLAN OF CUPER’S GARDENS.]

J. T. Smith[283] tells us that he walked over the place when occupied
by the Beaufoys, and saw many of the old lamp-irons along the paling
of the gardens, humble reminders of the days when the walks of Cuper’s
Gardens were “beautifully illuminated with lamp-trees in a grand taste,
disposed in proper order.” In 1814 part of the ground was required
for making the south approach to Waterloo Bridge. The “fireworks”
building and the rest of Messrs. Beaufoys’ works were then taken down
and the Waterloo Road, sixty feet in width, was cut through the three
acres, thus passing through the centre of Cuper’s Gardens which had
extended up to the site of the present St. John’s Church (built in
1823) opposite Waterloo Station.

The Royal Infirmary for Children and Women erected in 1823 on the
eastern side of the Waterloo Road stands on (or rather _over_) the
centre of the site of the gardens. The Feathers was used during the
building of the bridge for the pay-table of the labourers, and when it
was taken down (about 1818?) its site was occupied by a timber-yard,
close to the eastern side of the first land-arch of the Waterloo Bridge.

The public-house now called the Feathers, standing near the Bridge and
rising two stories above the level of the Waterloo Road was built by
the proprietor of the old Feathers in 1818.

[Wilkinson’s _Londina Illustrata_, vol. ii. “Cuper’s Gardens,”
Public Gardens Coll. in Guildhall Library, London (newspaper
cuttings, &c.); Charles Howard’s _Historical Anecdotes of the
Howard Family_ (1769), 98, ff.; Pennant’s _Account of London_,
3rd ed. 1793, 32–34; _Musical Times_, February 1894, 84, ff.;
Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i. 603; E. Hatton’s _New View of
London_, 1708, ii. 785; Lysons’s _Environs_, 1792, i. 319, 320;
Walford, vi. 388, 389; _The Observator_, March 10, 1702-3;
newspaper cuttings, W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

1. View of the Savoy, Somerset House, and the water entrance
to Cuper’s Gardens, engraved by W. M. Fellows, 1808, in J. T.
Smith’s _Antiquities of Westminster_, from a painting (done
in 1770, according to Crace, _Cat._ 188, No. 219) by Samuel
Scott.

2. Woodcuts in Walford, vi. 391, showing entrance to the gardens
(the back entrance) and the “orchestra” during the demolition
of the buildings; cp. _ib._ 390. Walford also mentions,
_ib._ p. 388, a view showing the grove, statues, and
alcoves, of the gardens.

3. Water-colour drawings of Beaufoys’ and Cuper’s in 1798 and in
1809 (Crace, _Cat._ 648, Nos. 49, 50).

4. Wilkinson, _Lond. Illust._ (1825), vol. ii. gives three
views, Pl. 155, view of the Great Room as occupied for Beaufoys’
manufactory, with a plan of the gardens; Pl. 156, another
similar view; Pl. 157, view of the old Feathers Tavern.

“THE FOLLY” ON THE THAMES

Close by Cuper’s Stairs (where the visitors to Cuper’s Gardens landed)
and opposite Somerset House, there was generally moored during the
summer months a sort of castellated house-boat, notorious as The
Folly.[284]

It consisted of a strong barge on which was a deck platform, surrounded
by a balustrade, and contained a saloon provided with large windows and
divided into boxes and compartments. At each of the four angles of the
deck was a turret, giving the whole something of the appearance of a
floating castle.

This “whimsical piece of architecture” (as Thomas Brown calls it)[285]
was in existence soon after the Restoration, and in 1668 was visited by
Pepys.[286] It was intended, says Brown, “as a musical summer-house for
the entertainment of quality where they might meet and ogle one another
... but the ladies of the town finding it as convenient a rendezvous
for their purpose ... dash’d the female quality out of countenance
and made them seek a more retired conveniency” for their “amorous
intrigues.” Queen Mary (II.) once paid it a visit, and the proprietor
endeavoured to re-christen it The Royal Diversion. It continued,
however, to be popularly known as The Folly, and already in 1700 had
ceased to have any quality to boast of, at least among its female
frequenters.

[Illustration: “THE FOLLY,” BEFORE _circ._ 1720.]

Thomas Brown describes a visit that he made about 1700. Rowing up to
the side in a boat he found himself scrutinised by a crowd of women
both young and old, and (as he puts it) “of all sorts and sizes.”
Some of these ladies were dancing and tripping airily about the deck,
and some tattling to their beaux; but many of the company, including
certain long-sworded bullies, were crowded into the boxes in the saloon
where they sat, smoking, and drinking burnt brandy. “In short, it was
such a confused scene of folly, madness and debauchery” that Thomas
Brown, by no means a squeamish person, stepped again into his boat
“without drinking.”

The Folly in its later days was occasionally visited by people who at
least worked honestly for their living, and the draper’s apprentice,
when his shop was shut, would row up with his sweetheart for an
evening’s amusement at this curious haunt.[287]

The Folly was in existence till 1720, and perhaps for more than thirty
years later, but the character of its frequenters, and the gambling
that took place at what was known as its Golden Gaming Table, at last
led to its suppression as a public resort. It was suffered to fall into
such decay that its material was burnt for fire-wood.

Near that part of the river where the Folly was usually moored the
famous Chinese junk was anchored about 1848, and visited by thousands
of sight-seers.[288]

[Thomas Brown’s _Amusements Serious and Comical_, Part ii.
“The Thames”; Wheatley’s _London Past and Present_, “Folly”;
E. Hatton’s _New View of London_, 1708, ii. 785; Wilkinson’s
_Londina_, vol. i. No. 88; also vol. ii. “Cuper’s Gardens”;
Walford, iii. 290; Larwood and Hotten, _History of Signboards_,
509; manuscript notes, &c. in “Public Gardens” collection in
Guildhall Library, London.]

VIEWS.

1. A view of Whitehall from the water, showing the Folly
Musick House on the Thames. Engraved in Wilkinson’s _Londina
Illustrata_, vol. i. No. 88, from a drawing taken about the
time of James II. “in the possession of Thomas Griffiths, Esq.”

2. The Southern Front of Somerset House with its extensive
Gardens, &c., showing the Folly. A drawing by L. Knyff, about
1720, engraved by Sawyer Junior, and published (1808) in J.
T. Smith’s sixty additional plates to his _Antiquities of
Westminster_. This is copied, with a short account of the
Folly, in E. W. Brayley’s _Londiniana_ (1829), vol. iii.
130, 300. It is substantially the same as the view on a larger
scale engraved by Kip in Strype’s _Stow_, 1720, ii. bk. 4,
p. 105. Cp. also an engraving (W. Coll.) “Somerset House, La
Maison de Somerset.” L. Knyff del. I. Kip sc. undated, before
1720?

BELVEDERE HOUSE AND GARDENS, LAMBETH

Belvedere House and Gardens were near Cuper’s Gardens,[289] but a
little higher up the river (south side). They were opposite York
Buildings in the Strand, and extended from the present Belvedere Road
(then called Narrow Wall) to the water’s edge. Some modern writers
speak of the gardens as a place of public entertainment in the reign of
Queen Anne, but there seems no evidence of this, and in 1719 or 1720
the premises were in the possession of a Mr. English (or England), who
at that time sold them to the Theobald family. In 1757, Belvedere House
was the private residence of Mr. James Theobald.

In the early part of 1781, “the house called Belvedere” was taken by
one Charles Bascom, who opened it as an inn, with the added attractions
of “pleasant gardens and variety of fish-ponds.” He professed in his
advertisements, to accommodate his guests with choice wines and with
eating of every kind in season, after the best manner, especially with
“the choicest river-fish which they may have the delight to see taken.”

The gardens could not have been open later than 1785, for in that year
part of the ground was turned into the Belvedere (timber) Wharf, and
part was occupied by the machinery of the Lambeth water-works.

[Advertisement in _The Freethinker_ for April 28, 1781, quoted
in Wilkinson’s _Londina_, vol. ii. “Cuper’s Gardens,” _notes_,
and in Nichols’s _Lambeth_, Nichols’s _Bibl. Top. Brit._ ii.
Appendix, 158; map in Strype’s _Stow_ (1720), vol. ii. book 6,
p. 83, Appendix; Manning and Bray, _Surrey_, iii. 467; Brayley
and Mantell, _Surrey_, iii. 393; Howard’s _Historical Anecdotes
of some of the Howard Family_, 106; Wheatley’s _London P. and
P._ s.v. “Belvedere Road.”]

RESTORATION SPRING GARDENS, ST. GEORGE’S FIELDS

The Restoration Tavern was in existence in the early part of the reign
of Charles II.[290] In 1714 there was a new cock-pit in its grounds
and a great match of cock fighting was announced to take place there;
“two guineas a battle, and twenty guineas the odd battle” all the week,
beginning at four o’clock. The races and popular sports then frequent
in St. George’s Fields probably brought additional custom to the house.

In the gardens of the tavern was a purging spring which was
advertised[291] in 1733 as already well-known for the cure of all
cancerous and scorbutic humours. About the same year a second spring
was discovered, a chalybeate “of the nature of Piermont Water but
superior.” The water was obtainable every day at the gardens,[292]
and was declared to “far exceed” the water at the neighbouring Dog
and Duck. Dr. Rendle says that it must have been the mere soakage of
a swamp, but whatever may have been the virtues of the spring it was
probably before long eclipsed by its rival at the Dog and Duck, though
the Restoration was in existence in 1755 and perhaps for some years
later.

In 1771 the garden, or at any rate about an acre of it, was taken by
William Curtis,[293] the author of _Flora Londinensis_, who formed
a Botanical Garden there which was afterwards open to subscribers
until 1789, when the botanist removed to another garden in the more
salubrious air of Brompton.

Restoration Garden is marked in the map in Stow’s _Survey_, 1755,
as abutting on the western side of Angel Street (a continuation of the
Broad Wall), southern end. In a map of the Surrey side of the Thames
showing the proposed roads from Blackfriars Bridge (circ. 1768) the
ground is marked as “Public House Gardens” and “Gardens.” The Half-way
House from the Borough to Westminster Bridge is marked immediately
south of the gardens; and still further south is the Westminster Bridge
Road, the end east of the Asylum. St. Saviour’s Union, Marlborough
Street (near the New Cut), is now near the site.

[Rendle and Norman, _Inns of Old Southwark_ (1888), pp.
367, 368; and see Notes.]

THE FLORA TEA GARDENS (OR MOUNT GARDENS),
WESTMINSTER BRIDGE ROAD

The Flora Tea Gardens (or Mount Gardens), were on the right hand side
of the Westminster Bridge Road going towards the Obelisk, and opposite
the Temple of Flora. They were in existence about 1796–7. The gardens
were well kept and contained “genteel paintings.” They were open on
week-days and on Sundays till about 11 p.m., and the admission was
sixpence.

Among the frequenters were democratic shopmen, who might be heard
railing against King and Church, and a good many ladies respectable and
the reverse. The “Sunday Rambler” (1796–7) describes the company as
very orderly, but at some time before 1800 the place was suppressed on
account of dissolute persons frequenting it.

Some small cottages were then built in the middle of the garden, which
retained a rural appearance till shortly before 1827, when several rows
of houses, “Mount Gardens,” were erected on the site.

[The Flora Tea Gardens described in _A Modern Sabbath_ (1797),
chap. viii., are evidently identical with the Mount Gardens
mentioned by Allen (_Lambeth_, 335), though he does not mention
their alternative name (cp. Walford, vi. 389). Allen (_loc.
cit._) is the authority for the suppression of the gardens.]

THE TEMPLE OF FLORA

The Temple of Flora stood hard by the Temple of Apollo, in the middle
of Mount Row on the left hand side of Westminster Bridge Road, going
towards the Obelisk, and was separated by Oakley Street from the Apollo
Gardens (Temple of Apollo). Concerts were given every evening in the
season, and the place is described as “beautifully fitted up with
alcoves and exotics.”

In the hot house was “an elegant statue of Pomona,” a transparency
of Flora, and at the lower end of the garden, a natural cascade and
fountain. “The entrance and the gardens,” were advertised in July
1789 as being formed by the proprietor into an exact imitation of the
admired Temple of Flora, which he had constructed at the Grand Gala at
Ranelagh.

Some special entertainments were given in June and July in honour
of the King’s recovery, and the Grand Temple of Flora, an “elegant
and ingenious imitation of Nature in her floral attire,” was then
illuminated with nearly a thousand variegated lamps amid wreaths
of flowers twining round pillars “made in imitation of Sienna
marble.” Fireworks and water-works were also displayed; a large
star of lamps was suspended above the cascade, and (in the absence
of nightingales) “a variety of singing birds” were imitated. The
admission for these special entertainments was one shilling, and the
gardens were illuminated from eight till the closing time at eleven.
Light refreshments were served consisting of orgeat, lemonade,
“confectionary,” strawberries and cream.

There is evidence[294] that in the first few years of its existence
(1788–1791) the place was visited by some people of good position, but
it afterwards became the haunt of dissolute characters and of young
apprentices.[295] The author of _A Modern Sabbath_ describes
(_circ._ 1796) the boxes in the gardens as “neatly painted” like
most of the company who were to be seen there about ten in the evening.
The admission appears to have been now reduced to sixpence.

In 1796 the proprietor, a man named Grist, was indicted for keeping the
place as a disorderly house, and was ordered (May 30) to be confined
for six months in the King’s Bench Prison,[296] and in all probability
the Temple of Flora was then finally closed.

Mme. Lamotte, the heroine of the famous Diamond Necklace affair,
ended her strange career (23 August, 1791) in her house near the
Temple of Flora, a place of amusement that, it is likely enough, she
frequented.[297]

[_A Modern Sabbath_ (1797), chap. viii.; _Public Advertiser_,
2 July, 1789 (fêtes of June and July); Brayley and Mantell,
_Surrey_, iii. 399; Allen’s _Lambeth_, 321.]

APOLLO GARDENS (OR TEMPLE OF APOLLO)

These gardens were on the left hand side of the Westminster Bridge Road
going from Westminster to the Obelisk, and were situated nearly where
the engineering factory of Messrs. Maudslay, Sons and Field now stands
and opposite the present Christ Church Congregational Chapel.[298]

Walter Claggett, the proprietor (at one time a lessee of the
Pantheon[299] in Oxford Street) opened the place in October 1788 with
an entertainment given in the concert room, which is described as a
fine building with “a kind of orrery in the dome, displaying a pallid
moon between two brilliant transparencies.” In this building was an
orchestra containing a fine-toned organ, and in the opening concert,
given before nearly one thousand three hundred people, a band of about
seventy instrumental and vocal performers took part, the organist being
Jonathan Battishill.

Previous to the opening for the season in April 1790, the gardens were
much altered and a room was arranged for large dinner parties. In the
gardens were a number of “elegant pavilions or alcoves” ornamented with
the adventures of Don Quixote and other paintings.

In 1792 (May-July) there was music every evening and fantoccini were
exhibited. In this year the concerts took place in a covered promenade
described as the Grand Apollonian Promenade. Mr. Flack, junior, was the
leader of the band; Mr. Costelow the organist, and the vocalists were
Mr. Binley, Miss Wingfield, Mrs. Leaver, and Mrs. Iliff, the last-named
one of the Vauxhall singers in 1787. New overtures, &c., “composed by
Messrs. Haydn and Pleyel since their arrival in this Kingdom” were
advertised for performance.

The season began in April or May, and the visitor on entering at five
o’clock or later, paid a shilling or sixpence (1792) receiving in
exchange a metal check entitling him to refreshments. No charge was
made for the concert. At about nine o’clock many persons who had “come
on” from other public places visited the Apollo for hot suppers, and
the gardens and promenade were illuminated, sometimes with two thousand
lamps. The proprietor prided himself on “the superior excellence of
the Music and Wines.” He boasted, moreover, of the patronage of the
nobility and gentry, and vaunted the “chastity and dignity” of the
place, though it was probably owing to the presence of some of these
late arriving visitors that the Apollo Gardens speedily acquired an
unenviable reputation.

In 1792 the place was known to be a resort of cheats and pickpockets.
We hear of one Elizabeth Smith, a smartly dressed young woman, about
eighteen, being charged in 1792 at the Guildhall with “trepanning a
Miss Ridley,” a beautiful girl ten years of age, whom she had taken
with her to the Apollo and the Dog and Duck, and left crying on
Blackfriars Bridge, after stealing her fine sash.

The Apollo was suppressed by the magistrates, probably about 1793.[300]
The proprietor himself became bankrupt; the orchestra was removed to
Sydney Gardens, Bath;[301] and the Temple of Apollo fell into a ruinous
state and its site was eventually built upon.

[A collection of newspaper cuttings relating to London, &c.
(section, Apollo Gardens) in Guildhall Library, London (_Catal._
ii. 546); “Public Gardens” collection (newspaper cuttings, &c.)
in Guildhall Library (_Catal._ ii. 761); Brayley and Mantell,
_Surrey_, iii. 399; Allen’s _Lambeth_, 319; Walford, vi. 343,
389; _A Modern Sabbath_, chap. viii.]

VIEWS.

There appear to be no extant views. The site may be ascertained
from Horwood’s _Plan_, 1799; and from Willis’s _Plan_, 1808. In
the Crace Coll. (_Cat._ p. 122, No. 69) are “Two drawn plans
of a plot of land called the Apollo Gardens, lying next the
Westminster Bridge Road to the Obelisk,” by T. Chawner.

DOG AND DUCK, ST. GEORGE’S FIELDS

(ST. GEORGE’S SPA)

The Dog and Duck was in existence as a small inn as early as 1642.[302]
In its vicinity were three or four ponds in which, no doubt, the brutal
sport of hunting ducks with spaniels was at one time practised,[303]
and near the place were mineral springs whose properties were known as
early as 1695, though the water does not appear to have been advertised
for sale till about 1731,[304] when the Dog and Duck had taken to
itself the imposing sub-title of St. George’s Spaw. At this time the
water was sold at the pump for fourpence a gallon, and was stated to be
recommended by eminent physicians for gout, stone, king’s evil, sore
eyes, and inveterate cancers. A dozen bottles could be had at the Spa
(_circ._ 1733–1736) for a shilling.

From about 1754 till 1770 the water was in considerable repute, and
new buildings appear to have been erected for the accommodation
of visitors. There was a long room for breakfasting (1754), a
bowling-green, and a swimming-bath (1769) two hundred feet long and
nearly one hundred feet broad. Tea and coffee were to be had in
the afternoon. At this period people of good position seem to have
frequented the Spa or to have sent for the water. We find Miss Talbot
writing about the place to Mrs. Carter, and Dr. Johnson suggested the
use of the water to Mrs. Thrale.[305]

The proprietors issued (1760) to subscribers an admission ticket
handsomely struck in silver with a portrait of Lazare Rivière, the
famous Professor of Medicine, on its obverse.[306]

The _St. James’s Chronicle_ ranked the water with that of
Tunbridge, Cheltenham, and Buxton.

Physicians of repute described its curative properties, and affirmed
it to be excellent for cutaneous afflictions and for cancer which it
would certainly arrest, even if it did not cure. This water, which
was advertised as an aperient (Epsom Salts being also kept on the
premises), came at a much later date--1856--under the observation of
Dr. Rendle, the historian, and, as it happened, the Officer of Health
in that year for the Parish of St. George’s, Southwark. Rendle procured
an analysis of water from the superficial well, formerly the spring,
on the site of the old Dog and Duck and was forced to describe it as
“a decidedly unsafe water” containing impurities, eighty grains per
gallon, chiefly alkaline chlorides, sulphates and nitrates, gypsum and
carbonate of lime, with a little phosphoric acid.

But we return to the year 1770, about which time the Dog and Duck took
a new lease of life. A temporary circus established in St. George’s
Fields by Sampson, of The Three Hats, Islington, was the cause of much
additional custom being brought to the tavern, and Mrs. Hedger who
kept the house was obliged to send for her son who was then a youth
in a stable-yard at Epsom. Young Hedger soon saw the possibilities
of the place. He gradually improved the premises and in a few years
was making a large income from the tavern and its tea-garden, which
was much frequented, especially on Sundays.[307] The garden was well
laid out and contained “a pretty piece of water” doubtless one of the
old ducking ponds, and at one time a band played in the garden for
the delectation of the week-day visitors. At night, the long room was
brilliantly lighted for the company who assembled to dance, drink,
and listen to the strains of the organ. Under Hedger, however, the
character of the company went from bad to worse. The “rowdy” delights
of the Dog and Duck are indicated, though probably with an exaggerated
coarseness, in Garrick’s Prologue to “The Maid of the Oaks” acted at
Drury Lane in 1775:--

St. George’s Fields, with taste and fashion struck,
Display Arcadia at the Dog and Duck,
And Drury misses here in tawdry pride,
Are there “Pastoras” by the fountain side;
To frowsy bowers they reel through midnight damps,
With Fauns half drunk, and Dryads breaking lamps.[308]

In about ten years the Dog and Duck had become a place of assignation
and the haunt of “the riff-raff and scum of the town.” One of its
frequenters, Charlotte Shaftoe, is said to have betrayed seven of her
intimates to the gallows. At last, on September 11, 1787, the Surrey
magistrates refused to renew the license. Hedger, like the Music Hall
managers of our own time, was not easily beaten. He appealed to the
City of London, and two City justices claiming to act as justices in
Southwark, renewed the license seven days after its refusal by the
County magistrates. The legality of the civic jurisdiction in Surrey
was tried in 1792 before Lord Kenyon and other judges, who decided
against it. The license of the Dog and Duck was then made conditional
on its being entirely closed on Sundays.[309]

In 1795 the bath and the bowling-green were advertised as attractions
and the water might be drunk on the usual terms of threepence each
person. About 1796 the place was again open on Sundays, but the license
was lost. This difficulty the proprietor surmounted by engaging a
Freeman of the Vintners Company, who required no license, to draw the
wine that was sold on the premises. The “Sunday Rambler” who visited
the place (_circ._ 1796) one evening about ten o’clock found a
dubious company assembled. He recognised a bankrupt banker and his
mistress; a notorious lady named Nan Sheldon; and another lady attired
in extreme fashion and known as “Tippy Molly,” though once she had been
a modest Mary Johnson. De Castro (_Memoirs_), with a certain touch
of pathos, describes the votaries of the Dog and Duck in its later
days as “the children of poverty, irregularity and distress.”[310]
It would, indeed, be easy to moralise on the circumstance that the
place was soon to become the inheritance of the blind and the lunatic.
In or before 1799 the Dog and Duck was suppressed, and the premises,
after having been used as a public soup-kitchen, became in that year
the establishment of the School for the Indigent Blind, an institution
which remained there till 1811.

[Illustration: “LABOUR IN VAIN” (ST. GEORGE’S SPA IN BACKGROUND,
1782.)]

Meanwhile, the enterprising Hedger, had made a good use of his profits
by renting (from about the year 1789) a large tract of land in St.
George’s Fields at low rates from the managers of the Bridge House
Estate. The fine for building was £500, but Hedger immediately paid
this penalty, and while sub-letting a portion of the ground, ran up on
the rest a number of wretched houses which hardly stood the term of his
twenty-one years’ lease. From this source he is said to have derived
£7,000 a year. He died in the early part of the present century,[311]
having obtained the title of The King of the Fields, and the reputation
of a “worthy private character.” He left his riches to his eldest son,
whom the people called the Squire.

The Dog and Duck was pulled down in 1811 for the building of the
present Bethlehem Hospital, the first stone of which was laid on
18 April, 1812. The old stone sign of the tavern, dated 1716, and
representing a spaniel holding a duck in its mouth, and the Arms of
the Bridge House Estate, was built into the brick garden-wall of the
Hospital where it may still be seen close to the actual site of the
once notorious Dog and Duck.

[Trusler’s _London Adviser_ (1786), pp. 124, 164; Fores’s _New
Guide_ (1789), preface, p. vi; Allen’s _London_, iv. 470, 482,
485; _A Modern Sabbath_, 1797, chap. viii.; Wheatley’s _London
P. and P._ s.v. “St. George’s Fields” and “Dog and Duck”;
Humphreys’s _Memoirs of De Castro_ (1824), 126, ff.; Manning and
Bray, _Surrey_, iii. 468, 554, 632, 701; Allen’s _Lambeth_, p.
7, 347; _Gent. Mag._ 1813, pt. 2, 556; Rendle and Norman, _Inns
of Old Southwark_, p. 368, ff.; Walford, vi. 343, 344, 350–352,
364; Larwood and Hotten, _Signboards_, 196, 197; _Notes and
Queries_, 1st ser. iv. 37; newspaper cuttings in W. Coll.]

VIEWS.

1. The old Dog and Duck Tavern, copied from an old drawing 1646,
water-colour drawing by T. H. Shepherd, Crace, _Cat._ p.
646. No. 27.

2. The Dog and Duck in 1772. A print published 1772. Crace,
_Cat._ p. 646, No. 28.

3. Woodcut of exterior, 1780, in Chambers’s _Book of Days_,
ii. 74.

4. “Labour in Vain, or Fatty in Distress” (St. George’s Spa in
the background), print published by C. Bowles, 1782, Crace,
_Cat._ p. 647, No. 35, and W. Coll.

5. Engraving of the exterior, 1788 (W. Coll.).

6. Interior of the Assembly Room. A stipple engraving, 1789,
reproduced in Rendle and Norman, _Inns of Old Southwark_,
373.

7. Sign of Dog and Duck, engraved in Walford, vi. 344; cp.
Crace, _Cat._ p. 646, No. 32, and Rendle and Norman,
_Inns of Old Southwark_, p. 369.

THE BLACK PRINCE, NEWINGTON BUTTS

The Black Prince at Newington Butts possessed, about 1788, a pleasant
garden frequented for trap-ball playing. There is a view (W. Coll.) of
the tavern and garden printed for C. Bowles, 22 Sept., 1788.

[Illustration: THE BLACK PRINCE, NEWINGTON BUTTS, 1788.]

LAMBETH WELLS

In the last century Lambeth Marsh and the fields in the neighbourhood
were a favourite resort of Londoners for running-matches and outdoor
sports, and the Lambeth Wells offered the special attractions of music
and mineral water-drinking. The Wells (opened to the public before
1697) were situated in Three Coney Walk, now called Lambeth Walk, and
consisted of two springs, distinguished as the Nearer and Farther Well.
The water was sent out to St. Thomas’s Hospital and elsewhere at a
penny a quart, and the poor had it free.

The usual charge for admission for drinking the waters was threepence,
including the music, which, about 1700, began at seven in the morning,
and was continued on three days of the week till sunset, and on other
days till two. The season began in the spring, usually on Easter Monday.

Attached to the Wells was a Great Room, in which concerts and dancing
took place. During the season of 1697 there was a “consort” every
Wednesday of “vocal and instrumental musick, consisting of about thirty
instruments and voices, after the manner of the musick-meeting in York
Buildings, the price only excepted,” each person to pay for coming in
but one shilling. These concerts began originally at 2.30 p.m., but
afterwards at six, when no person was admitted in a mask.

About 1700 these shilling concerts seem to have been discontinued, but
the Wells remained in some repute till about 1736, when they found a
rival in the spring of the Dog and Duck, and the attendance fell off.

In 1740 the owner was named Keefe. About 1750, under his successor
Ireland, a musical society under the direction of Sterling Goodwin,
organist of St. Saviour’s, Southwark, gave a monthly concert there.
At the same period Erasmus King, once coachman to Dr. Desaguliers,
read lectures there and exhibited experiments in natural philosophy
(admission sixpence). There were gala dancing-days in 1747, and in 1752
(June 27), when a “penny wedding in the Scotch manner was celebrated
for the benefit of a young couple.”

At a later date (after 1755?[312]) the place was condemned as a
nuisance, and the magistrates refused the dancing licence. The Great
Room was then used for Methodist services, and the music-gallery for
the pulpit, but the preacher (we are told) being disturbed greatly in
his enthusiastic harangues was obliged to quit, and the premises were
afterwards built on, or devoted to various purposes, with the exception
of the dwelling-house, which (before 1786) was turned into a tavern,
under the sign of the Fountain. The present Fountain public-house,
erected on the site of the older Fountain in 1829, is No. 105 Lambeth
Walk, nearly opposite Old Paradise Street (formerly Paradise Row). The
Wells themselves, though long closed, were still in existence in 1829,
but a house was subsequently built over them.

Brayley and Mantell (_Surrey_, iii. 400) writing about 1841, say
that part of the grounds continued “long within memory” to be used as a
tea-garden.

[Nichols’s _Parish of Lambeth_ (1786), p. 65, ff.; _Gent. Mag._
1813, pt. 2, p. 556; Manning and Bray, _Surrey_, iii. 468;
Brayley and Mantell, _Surrey_, iii. 399, ff.; Allen’s _Lambeth_,
p. 346, ff.; Walford, vi. 389].

MARBLE HALL, VAUXHALL

Marble Hall was situated on the Thames, at the spot afterwards occupied
by the southern abutment of Vauxhall Bridge. Part of the road to the
bridge now occupies the site.

Joseph Crosier, the proprietor in 1740, “enlarged, beautified and
illuminated” the gardens,[313] and built a Long Room facing the river,
which was opened in May 1740, and used for dancing during the spring
and summer.

From _circ._ 1752–1756 the proprietor was Naphthali Hart,[314]
teacher of music and dancing, who held assemblies at Marble Hall in
the season, devoting his energies in the winter to Hart’s Academy,
Essex House, Essex Street, Strand, where (as his advertisements state)
“grown gentlemen are taught to dance a minuet and country dances in the
modern taste, and in a short time.” “Likewise gentlemen are taught to
play on any instrument, the use of the small Sword and Spedroon.” “At
the same place is taught musick, fencing, French, Italian, Spanish,
Portuguese, High German, Low Dutch, Navigation, or any other part of
the Mathematicks.” “A sprightly youth is wanted as an apprentice.”

In the spring of 1756 Marble Hall was opened as a coffee house and
tavern, but little appears to be known of it after this date, though it
was in existence till about August 1813, when the abutment of Vauxhall
Bridge on the Surrey side was begun.

[Advertisements in “Public Gardens” collection in Guildhall
Library, London; Manning and Bray, _Surrey_, iii. 484, and
map, p. 526; Allen’s _Lambeth_, 368; Walford, vi. 339.]

THE CUMBERLAND TEA-GARDENS AND TAVERN, VAUXHALL

(ORIGINALLY SMITH’S TEA-GARDENS)

These small gardens, about one acre and a half in extent, were
pleasantly situated on the south bank of the Thames, immediately
to the south of Vauxhall Bridge (built 1811–1816). Under the name
of Smith’s Tea-Gardens they were probably in existence some years
previous to 1779. “A Fête Champêtre, or Grand Rural Masked Ball,” with
illuminations in the garden and the rooms, was advertised to take place
on 22 May, 1779, at 10 P.M., the subscription tickets being
one guinea.

About May 1784 the gardens were taken by Luke Reilly, landlord of the
Freemasons’ Tavern in Great Queen Street, who changed the name to the
Cumberland (or Royal Cumberland) Gardens.[315] At this time they were
open in the afternoon and evening, and visitors to Vauxhall Gardens
sometimes had refreshments there in the arbours and tea-room while
waiting for Vauxhall to open; or adjourned thither for supper when
tired of the larger garden.

In August 1796 a silver cup given by the proprietor was competed for on
the river by sailing boats. In 1797 a ten years’ lease of the gardens
and tavern was advertised to be sold for £1,000.

From 1800 to 1825 the gardens were much frequented by dwellers in the
south of London. Between three and four o’clock in the morning of
May 25, 1825, the tavern was discovered to be on fire. The engines
of Vauxhall Gardens and of the various Insurance Offices came on the
scene, but the fire raged for more than an hour, and the tavern and the
ball-room adjoining were completely destroyed and the plantation and
garden greatly injured. In October of the same year the property on the
premises was sold by the lessors under an execution and at that time
the gardens were, it would seem, finally closed.[316]

[Illustration: WATERSIDE ENTRANCE TO CUMBERLAND GARDENS.]

The South Lambeth Water Works occupied the site for many years and
the Phœnix Works of the South Metropolitan Gas Company are now on the
spot.[317]

[Newspaper cuttings in W. Coll.; Walford, vi. 389, 449; Timbs,
_Curiosities of London_ (1868), p. 18, and _Club Life_, ii. 261;
_Picture of London_, 1802, 1823 and 1829; the _Courier_ for 25
and 26 May, 1825; Allen, _Lambeth_, p. 379.]

VIEWS.

“Cumberland Gardens, &c.” A view by moonlight of the waterside
entrance to the gardens. Undated (_circ._ 1800?). W. Coll.

The gardens are well marked in Horwood’s _Plan_, D. 1799.

VAUXHALL GARDENS

§ 1. 1661–1728

These, the most famous of all the London pleasure gardens, were known
in their earliest days as the New Spring Garden at Vauxhall, and
continued till late in the eighteenth century to be advertised as
Spring Gardens.[318]

The Spring Garden was opened to the public shortly after the
Restoration, probably in 1661.[319] It was a prettily contrived
plantation, laid out with walks and arbours: the nightingale sang in
the trees; wild roses could be gathered in the hedges, and cherries
in the orchard. The Rotunda, the Orchestra, and the Triumphal Arches,
distinctive features of the later Vauxhall, were then non-existent,
and the proprietor’s house from which refreshments were supplied was
probably the only building that broke the charm of its rural isolation.
It was a pleasant place to walk in, and the visitor might spend what
he pleased, for nothing was charged for admission. It soon became one
of the favourite haunts of Pepys, who first visited it on 29 May 1662.
On hot summer days, he would take water to Foxhall with Deb and Mercer
and his wife, to stroll in the garden alleys, and eat a lobster or a
syllabub. On one day in May (29, 1666) he found two handsome ladies
calling on Mrs. Pepys. He was burdened with Admiralty business--“but,
Lord! to see how my nature could not refrain from the temptation, but I
must invite them to go to Foxhall, to Spring Gardens.”

In a few years the Spring Garden became well known. Fine people came
thither to divert themselves and the citizen also spent his holiday
there, “pulling off cherries [says Pepys] and God knows what.” The
song of the birds was charming, but from about 1667 more sophisticated
harmony was furnished by a harp, some fiddles, and a Jew’s trump.
About this time the rude behaviour of the gallants of the town began
to be noted at the Spring Garden. Gentlemen like “young Newport” and
Harry Killigrew, “a rogue newly come back out of France, but still in
disgrace at our Court,” would thrust themselves into the supper-arbours
and almost seize on the ladies, “perhaps civil ladies,” as Pepys
conjectures. “Their mad talk [he adds] did make my heart ake,” though
he himself, at a later time, was found at the gardens eating and
drinking with Mrs. Knipp, “it being darkish.”

During the last thirty years of the seventeenth century, the Spring
Garden, if less perturbed by the Killigrews and Newports, was not
a little notorious as a rendezvous for fashionable gallantry and
intrigue. “’Tis infallibly some intrigue that brings them to Spring
Garden” says Lady Fancyful in ‘The Provoked Wife’ (1697), and Tom Brown
(_Amusements_, 1700, p. 54) declares that in the close walks
of the gardens “both sexes meet, and mutually serve one another as
guides to lose their way, and the windings and turnings in the little
Wildernesses are so intricate, that the most experienced mothers have
often lost themselves in looking for their daughters.” It is not hard
to picture Mrs. Frail “with a man alone” at Spring Garden; Hippolita
eating a cheese-cake or a syllabub “with cousin,” and the gallant of
Sedley’s ‘Bellamira’ (1687) passing off on Thisbe the fine compliments
that he had already tried on “the flame-coloured Petticoat in New
Spring Garden.”

On the evening of 17 May, 1711, Swift (it is interesting to note)
visited the gardens with Lady Kerry and Miss Pratt, “to hear the
nightingales.”[320] The visit of Addison’s Sir Roger in the spring of
1712 is classical.[321] “We were now arrived at Spring Garden, which
is exquisitely pleasant at this time of year. When I considered the
fragrancy of the walks and bowers, with the choirs of birds that sung
upon the trees, and the loose tribe of people that walked under their
shades, I could not but look upon the place as a kind of Mahometan
Paradise.” You must understand, says the Knight, there is nothing in
the world that pleases a man in love so much as your nightingale. “He
here fetched a deep sigh, and was falling into a fit of musing, when
a mask, who came behind him, gave him a gentle tap upon the shoulder,
and asked him if he would drink a bottle of mead with her.” The old
Knight bid the baggage begone, and retired with his friend for a glass
of Burton and a slice of hung beef. He told the waiter to carry the
remainder to the one-legged waterman who had rowed him to Foxhall, and,
as he left the garden animadverted upon the morals of the place in his
famous utterance on the paucity of nightingales.

In 1726 the Spring Garden is singled out as one of the London
sights,[322] but it would seem that it had fallen into disrepute,
and that fresh attractions and a management less lax were now
demanded.[323]

§ 2. 1732–1767.

In 1728 Mr. Jonathan Tyers, the true founder of Vauxhall Gardens,
obtained from Elizabeth Masters a lease of the Spring Gardens for
thirty years at an annual rent of £250, and by subsequent purchases
(in 1752 and 1758) became the actual owner of the estate. He greatly
altered and improved the gardens, and on Wednesday 7 June 1732 opened
Vauxhall with a Ridotto al fresco. The visitors came between nine and
eleven in the evening, most of them wearing dominoes and lawyers’
gowns, and the company did not separate till three or four the next
morning. The later Vauxhall numbered its visitors by thousands, but at
this fête only about four hundred people were present, and the guard of
a hundred soldiers stationed in the gardens, with bayonets fixed, was
an unnecessary precaution. Good order prevailed, though a tipsy waiter
put on a masquerading dress, and a pickpocket stole fifty guineas from
a visitor, “but the rogue was taken in the fact.” A guinea ticket gave
admission to this entertainment, which was repeated several times
during the summer.

From about 1737 the Spring Gardens began to present certain features
that long remained characteristic. The admission at the gate was one
shilling, the regular charge till 1792, and silver tickets were issued
admitting two persons for the season, which began in April or May.[324]

An orchestra containing an organ was erected in the garden, and the
concert about this time lasted from five or six till nine. About 1758
this orchestra was replaced by a more elaborate ‘Gothic’ structure
“painted white and bloom colour” and having a dome surmounted by a
plume of feathers. The concert was at first instrumental, but in 1745
Tyers added vocal music, and engaged Mrs. Arne, the elder Reinhold, and
the famous tenor, Thomas Lowe, who remained the principal singer at
Vauxhall till about 1763.

[Illustration: VAUXHALL TICKET BY HOGARTH (AMPHION ON DOLPHIN).]

On the opening day of the season of 1737 “there was (we read) a
prodigious deal of good company present,” and by the end of the season
Pinchbeck was advertising his New Vauxhall Fan with a view of the
walks, the orchestra, the grand pavilion, and the organ.

The proprietor was fortunate in the patronage of Frederick Prince of
Wales, who had attended the opening Ridotto and often visited Vauxhall
till his death in 1751.[325] On 6 July, 1737, for instance, His Royal
Highness with several ladies of distinction and noblemen of his
household came from Kew by water to the Gardens, with music attending.
The Prince walked in the Grove, commanded several airs and retired
after supping in the Great Room.

Of fashionable patronage Vauxhall had, indeed, no lack till a very
late period of its existence; but the place was never exclusive or
select, and at no other London resort could the humours of every class
of the community be watched with greater interest or amusement. “Even
Bishops (we are assured) have been seen in this Recess without injuring
their Character.” To us, some of its entertainments seem insipid and
the manners and morals of its frequenters occasionally questionable,
but the charm of the place for our forefathers must have been real,
or Vauxhall would hardly have found a place in our literature and
social history. The old accounts speak of Spring Gardens not only with
naïve astonishment, but with positive affection. “The whole place”
(to borrow the remark, and the spelling, of a last century writer)
“is a realisation of Elizium.” One of the paintings in the gardens
represented “Two Mahometans gazing in wonder at the beauties of the
place.” Farmer Colin, after his week’s trip in town (1741) returned to
his wife full of the wonderful Spring Gardens:--

Oh, Mary! soft in feature,
I’ve been at dear Vauxhall;
No paradise is sweeter,
Not that they Eden call.

Methought, when first I entered,
Such splendours round me shone,
Into a world I ventured,
Where rose another sun:

While music, never cloying,
As skylarks sweet, I hear:
The sounds I’m still enjoying,
They’ll always soothe my ear.

The account of _England’s Gazetteer_ of 1751 is naturally more prosaic,
but takes the exalted tone that characterises the old descriptions of
the gardens:--“This (Foxhall) is the place where are those called
Spring Gardens, laid out in so grand a taste that they are frequented
in the three summer months by most of the nobility and gentry then
in and near London; and are often honoured with some of the royal
family, who are here entertained, with the sweet song of numbers of
nightingales, in concert with the best band of musick in England.
Here are fine pavilions, shady groves, and most delightful walks,
illuminated by above one thousand lamps, so disposed that they all take
fire together, almost as quick as lightning, and dart such a sudden
blaze as is perfectly surprising. Here are among others, two curious
statues of Apollo the god, and Mr. Handel the master of musick; and
in the centre of the area, where the walks terminate, is erected the
temple for the musicians, which is encompassed all round with handsome
seats, decorated with pleasant paintings, on subjects most happily
adapted to the season, place and company.”

The usual approach to the gardens until about 1750, when it became
possible to go by coach, was by water. At Westminster and Whitehall
Stairs barges and boats were always in waiting during the evening.
Sir John, from Fenchurch Street, with his lady and large family, came
on board attended by a footman bearing provisions for the voyage. The
girls chatter about the last city-ball, and Miss Kitty, by her mamma’s
command, sings the new song her master has taught her. Presently, “my
lady grows sick” and has recourse to the citron wine and the drops. At
the Temple Stairs a number of young fellows, Templars and others, hurry
into the boats, and Mr. William, the prentice, takes the water with
Miss Suckey, his master’s daughter. The deepness of their design is an
inexhaustible fount of merriment, for _she_ is supposed to be gone
next door to drink tea, and _he_ to meet an uncle coming from the
country.[326]

[Illustration: VAUXHALL TICKET BY HOGARTH (“SUMMER”).]

More refined would be the party of Mr. Horatio Walpole, in a barge,
“with a boat of French horns attending,” or (at a later date) of
Miss Lydia Melford, who describes how “at nine o’clock in a charming
moonlight evening we embarked at Ranelagh for Vauxhall, in a wherry
so light and slender that we looked like so many fairies sailing in
a nutshell.” The pleasure of the voyage was marred by the scene on
landing, for, although the worthy beadles of the gardens were present
at the waterside to preserve order, there was at all periods on landing
at Vauxhall Stairs “a terrible confusion of wherries,” “a crowd of
people bawling, and swearing, and quarrelling,” and a parcel of ugly
fellows running out into the water to pull you violently ashore. But
you paid your shilling at the gate, or showed your silver ticket, and
then passed down a dark passage into the full blaze of the gardens, lit
with their thousand lamps.[327] This was the great moment, as every
Vauxhall visitor from first to last, has testified. An impressionable
young lady[328] found herself dazzled and confounded by the variety of
the scene:--“Image to yourself ... a spacious garden, part laid out in
delightful walks, bounded with high hedges and trees, and paved with
gravel; part exhibiting a wonderful assemblage of the most picturesque
and striking objects, pavilions, lodges, groves, grottos, lawns,
temples, and cascades; porticos, colonnades, and rotundas; adorned
with pillars, statues, and paintings; the whole illuminated with an
infinite number of lamps, disposed in different figures of suns, stars
and constellations; the place crowded with the gayest company, ranging
through those blissful shades, or supping in different lodges on cold
collations, enlivened with mirth, freedom and good humour, and animated
by an excellent band of music.” Among the vocal performers you might
perhaps have the happiness to hear the celebrated Mrs.---- whose voice
was so loud and shrill that it would make your head ache “through
excess of pleasure.”

Goldsmith’s Chinese Philosopher[329]--for foreigners always visited
Vauxhall and even imitated it in Paris and at the Hague--received
a similar impression on entering the gardens with Mr. Tibbs, the
second-rate beau, and the pawnbroker’s widow. “The lights everywhere
glimmering through the scarcely moving trees; the full-bodied concert
bursting on the stillness of the night; the natural concert of the
birds in the more retired part of the grove vying with that which was
formed by art; the company gaily dressed, looking satisfaction, and the
tables spread with various delicacies.”

For an hour or two the promenade and the concert were sufficiently
amusing, and the crowd gathered before the orchestra, when Lowe or Miss
Stevenson came forward with a new song. Music is the food of love,
and the Vauxhall songs were (as Mr. Dobson has remarked) “abjectly
sentimental.” Incidents like the following described by an amorous
advertiser in the _London Chronicle_ for 5 August, 1758, must have
been not uncommon at the gardens:--“A young lady who was at Vauxhall
on Thursday night last in company with two gentlemen, could not but
observe a young gentleman in blue and a gold laced hat, who being near
her by the orchestra during the performance, especially the last
song, gazed upon her with the utmost attention. He earnestly hopes (if
unmarried) she will favour him with a line directed to A. D. at the bar
of the Temple Exchange Coffee-house, Temple Bar, to inform him whether
fortune, family and character may not entitle him upon a further
knowledge, to hope an interest in her heart.”

At nine o’clock a bell rang, and the company hurried to the north side
of the gardens to get a view of the Cascade. A curtain being drawn
aside disclosed a landscape scene illuminated by concealed lights.
In the foreground was a miller’s house and a waterfall. “The exact
appearance of water” was seen flowing down a declivity and turning the
wheel of a mill: the water rose up in foam at the bottom, and then
glided away. This simple exhibition was a favourite at Vauxhall, though
it lasted but a few minutes and was spoken of contemptuously in _The
Connoisseur_ and other journals as the “tin cascade.”[330]

[Illustration: THE CITIZEN AT VAUXHALL, 1755.]

The concert was then resumed, and some hungry citizens and their
families had already taken their seats in the supper boxes. During
supper the citizen[331] expressed his wonder at the number of the
lamps, and said that it must cost a great deal of money every night to
light them all. The eldest Miss declared that for her part she liked
the dark walk best of all because it was _solentary_. Little Miss
thought the last song pretty, and said she would buy it if she could
but remember the tune: and the old lady observed that there was a great
deal of good company indeed, but the gentlemen were so rude that they
perfectly put her out of countenance by staring at her through their
spy-glasses. The more fashionable visitors arrived later and had their
supper after the concert, often hiring a little band of French horns
to play to them. An interesting supper-party might have been seen at
the gardens on a June night in 1750, Horace Walpole, Lady Caroline
Petersham and “the little Ashe, or the Pollard Ashe as they call her.”
In the front of their box--one of the best boxes, of course, near the
orchestra and in full view of the company--sat Lady Caroline “with the
vizor of her hat erect, and looking gloriously jolly and handsome.”
“She had fetched (says Walpole) my brother Orford from the next box,
where he was enjoying himself with his _petite partie_, to help
us to mince chickens. We minced seven chickens into a china dish,
which Lady Caroline stewed over a lamp, with three pats of butter and
a flagon of water, stirring and rattling and laughing, and we every
minute expecting the dish to fly about our ears. She had brought
Betty, the fruit girl, with hampers of strawberries and cherries from
Rogers’s, and made her wait upon us, and then made her sup by us at a
little table.... In short the whole air of our party was sufficient, as
you will easily imagine, to take up the whole attention of the Gardens;
so much so, that from eleven o’clock till half an hour after one we
had the whole concourse round our booth; at last, they came into the
little gardens of each booth on the side of ours, till Harry Vane took
up a bumper and drank their healths, and was proceeding to treat them
with still greater freedoms. It was three o’clock before we got home”
(Walpole to Montague, 23 June, 1750).

At this point it seems appropriate to furnish some details of the
Vauxhall commissariat, and we cannot do better than transcribe an
actual Bill of Provisions sold in the gardens about the year 1762.[332]

_s._ _d._
Burgundy, a bottle 6 0
Champagne 8 0
Frontiniac 6 0
Claret 5 0
Old hock, with or without sugar 5 0
Two pound of ice 6
Rhenish and sugar 2 6
Mountain 2 6
Red port 2 0
Sherry 2 0
Cyder 1 0
Table beer, a quart mug 4
A chicken 2 6
A dish of ham 1 0
A dish of beef 1 0
Salad 6
A cruet of oil 4
Orange or lemon 3
Sugar for a bottle 6
Ditto for a pint 3
A slice of bread 1
Ditto of butter 2
Ditto of cheese 2
A tart 1 0
A custard 4
A cheese cake 4
A heart cake 2
A Shrewsbury cake 2
A quart of Arrack 8 0

When Tyers leased the gardens in 1728 there was in the dwelling-house a
“Ham Room,” so that this famous Vauxhall viand must have been already
in request. The thinness of the slices was proverbial. A journal of
1762, for instance, complains that you could read the newspaper through
a slice of Tyers’s ham or beef. A certain carver, hardly perhaps
mythical, readily obtained employment from the proprietor when he
promised to cut a ham so thin that the slices would cover the whole
garden like a carpet of red and white.

The chickens were of diminutive size. Mr. Rose, the old citizen in
_The Connoisseur_ (15 May, 1755), found them no bigger than a sparrow
and exclaimed at every mouthful: “There goes twopence--there goes
threepence--there goes a groat ... why it would not have cost me above
fourpence halfpenny to have spent my evening at Sot’s Hole.”

Chicken, ham and beef remained the staple of Vauxhall fare, but from
about 1822 onwards the chicken cost four shillings instead of the
half-crown, at which the old citizen had grumbled. Ham remained steady
at one shilling a plate, and was cut no thicker. Thackeray speaks of
“the twinkling boxes in which the happy feasters made believe to eat
slices of almost invisible ham.”

In 1774 the same liquors were in demand, at the same prices as in 1762.
In 1822 the claret sold was half a guinea a bottle and Frontiniac had
risen from six shillings to ten shillings and sixpence a bottle. By
this time, arrack--the famous rack punch that Jos. Sedley drank so
freely--had risen from eight to twelve shillings a quart. In 1859 it
was ten shillings a bowl, and rum and whisky, and of course, Guinness
and Bass had taken their places in the bill. About 1802 Vauxhall Nectar
was a common summer beverage. It was “a mixture of rum and syrup with
an addition of benzoic acid or flowers of benjamin” and was taken with
water.

Having thus given a general sketch of the company and amusements at
Vauxhall, we must say something of the gardens themselves and of the
character of the musical entertainments.

[Illustration:

_A General Prospect of Vaux Hall Gardens._

_Shewing at one View the disposition of the whole Gardens._

_Vue Detaillee des Jardins de Vaux Hall._

GENERAL PROSPECT OF VAUXHALL GARDENS, 1751.]

The gardens[333] occupied about twelve acres and were laid out in
gravel walks flanked by a number of fine trees. On passing through
the principal entrance, that connected with the manager’s house[334]
at the western end of the gardens, the visitor beheld the Grand
(or Great) Walk, planted on each side with elms and extending about
nine hundred feet, the whole length of the garden, to the eastern
boundary fence, beyond which could be seen pleasant meadows with the
hay-makers at their task. At the eastern end of this walk there was a
gilded statue of Aurora, afterwards (before 1762) replaced by a Grand
Gothic Obelisk bearing the inscription _Spectator fastidiosus sibi
molestus_. This latter erection would hardly have borne inspection
by daylight, for, like much of the ‘architecture’ of Vauxhall, it
consisted merely of a number of boards covered with painted canvas.

Parallel to the Grand Walk was the South Walk with its three triumphal
arches through which could be seen a painting of the ruins of Palmyra.

A third avenue, the Grand Cross Walk, also containing a painted
representation of ruins, passed through the garden from side to side,
intersecting the Grand Walk at right angles. This cross walk was
terminated on the right by the Lovers’ (or Druid’s) Walk, and to the
left were the Wildernesses and the Rural Downs.

The lofty trees of the Lovers’ Walk formed a verdant canopy in which
the nightingales of Spring Gardens, the blackbirds, and the thrushes
were wont to build. This was the principal of the Dark Walks so often
mentioned in the annals of Vauxhall. In 1759 complaints were made of
the loose characters who frequented these walks, and in 1763 Tyers was
compelled to rail them off. When Vauxhall opened for the season in 1764
some young fellows, about fifty in number, tore up the railings in
order to lay the walks open.

The Rural Downs, at least in the earlier days of Vauxhall, were covered
with turf and interspersed with firs, cypresses and cedars. On one
of the little eminences was a leaden statue of Milton[335] seated,
listening to music, and at night-time the great Bard was illuminated
by lamps. Here were also the Musical Bushes where a subterraneous
band used to play fairy music till about the middle of the eighteenth
century when this romantic entertainment ceased, “the natural damp of
the earth being found prejudicial to the instruments.”

The Wildernesses were formed by lofty trees and were (about 1753)
the verdant abode of various “feathered minstrels, who in the most
delightful season of the year ravish the ears of the company with their
harmony.”

The orchestra, open in the front, stood, facing the west, in the centre
of what was called The Grove, a quadrangle of about five acres formed
by the Grand, Cross, and South Walks and by the remaining side of the
garden.

On each side of this quadrangle were the supper-boxes and pavilions,
placed in long rows or arranged in a semi-circular sweep. These were
decorated, about 1742, with paintings chiefly by Francis Hayman.
Hogarth allowed his “Four Times of the Day” to be copied by Hayman for
the boxes, and is said to have given Tyers the idea of brightening
Vauxhall with paintings. It is doubtful if any of the pictures in the
boxes can be traced directly to his hand, though an undoubted Hogarth,
“Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn” was presented by the artist to Tyers and
hung in the Rotunda. The pictures in the boxes chiefly represented
scenes in popular comedies and a number of common sports and pastimes
such as the play of seesaw, the play of cricket, the humorous diversion
of sliding on the ice, leap-frog, and the country dance round the
maypole. Some of the larger boxes, denominated temples and
pavilions, were more elaborately designed and decorated. Such were the
Temple of Comus (in the semi-circle of boxes on the left of the garden)
and the Turkish Tent behind the orchestra.

[Illustration:

_The Inside of the Elegant Music Room in VAUX HALL
GARDENS._

_Le dedans du Concert Elegant aux Jardins du VAUX HALL._

THE ROTUNDA (MUSIC ROOM), VAUXHALL, 1752.]

Roubillac’s celebrated marble statue of Handel, as Orpheus, stood in
various positions in the gardens (sometimes under cover) from 1738 to
1818.[336]

The principal structure was the Rotunda, entered through a colonnade to
the left of the Grand Walk. It was a circular building, seventy feet
in diameter, elegantly fitted up and containing an orchestra in which
the band performed on wet evenings. When first opened it was known as
the New Music Room or the Great Room, and in early days was nicknamed
the Umbrella from the shape of the roof. With the Rotunda was connected
a long room, known as the Saloon, or the Picture Room. This projected
into the gardens, parallel to the Grove.

Under Tyers’s management the concert began at five or six and lasted
till nine or ten. It consisted of sixteen pieces, songs alternating
with sonatas and concertos. An overture on the organ, always formed
part of the entertainment. Not much is known of the instrumental
music, for the Vauxhall advertisements, until late in the eighteenth
century, never gave the details of the programme. Arne, and Dr. John
Worgan, (the Vauxhall organist) were the composers during this period.
Valentine Snow, serjeant-trumpeter to the king, was a favourite about
1745, and Burney remarks that “his silver sounds in the open air, by
having room to expand, never arrived at the ears of the audience in a
manner too powerful or piercing.”

The songs consisted chiefly of sentimental ballads, and of a few more
sprightly ditties, such as Miss Stevenson’s song “You tell me I’m
handsome”:--

All this has been told me by twenty before,
But he that would win me must flatter me more.

The verse is highly conventional, but sometimes shows a glimmering
of poetic form that raises it somewhat above the level of our own
drawing-room ballads. The average Vauxhall song seems to our ears
sufficiently thin and trivial, but on the lips of Lowe or Mrs.
Weichsell, may easily have been successful. Of the popularity of the
songs at the time, there can be no question. The magazines, especially
_The London Magazine_, regularly published the words, and often
the music, of “A new song sung at Vauxhall,” and the contemporary
collections of Vauxhall songs, such as _The Warbler_ published at
a shilling in 1756, were numerous.

In the period 1745–1767, when the singers were few in number, the
chief male vocalist was Thomas Lowe, who possessed an inexhaustible
répertoire of Delias and Strephons which he sang with great applause
from 1745 till about 1763, when he entered on the management of the
Marylebone Gardens.[337] Mrs. Arne sang for a few years from 1745,
and Miss Stevenson frequently _circ._ 1748–1758. Miss Isabella
Burchell, better known as the Mrs. Vincent of Marylebone Gardens, sang
at Vauxhall from 1751 to 1760. She was originally a milk-girl employed
on Tyers’s estate in Surrey, and it was through his instrumentality
that she obtained instruction in music.

In 1764, the chief singers were Vernon and Miss Brent, who belong
rather to our next period. Miss Wright’s “Thro’ the wood, laddie,” was
popular in 1765.

[Illustration]

Jonathan Tyers died on 1 July, 1767. He had amassed a large fortune
and owned the estate of Denbies at Dorking, where he laid out a curious
garden containing a hermitage, called the Temple of Death, and a
gloomy valley of the Shadow of Death. In spite of these lugubrious
surroundings this “Master-builder of Delight” retained his love for
Vauxhall till the last, and shortly before his death had himself
carried into the Grove to take a parting look at the Spring Gardens.

He was succeeded at Vauxhall by his two sons, Thomas and Jonathan.
‘Tom’ Tyers, as he was called by Dr. Johnson, with whom he was a
favourite, had been bred to the law, but he was too eccentric and
vivacious to confine himself to practice. “He, therefore (says
Boswell), ran about the world with a pleasant carelessness,” amusing
everybody by his desultory talk and abundance of anecdote. He furnished
many songs for the gardens, but in 1785, sold his interest to his
brother Jonathan’s family. Jonathan was manager of Vauxhall from 1785
till his death in 1792.

§ 3. 1768–1790.

During this period the character of the entertainments of Vauxhall and
the arrangement of the gardens themselves, underwent no very material
changes,[338] and people of all ranks frequented the place as of old.
The singers, however, were more numerous, and there seems to have been
a general tendency to stay late. In 1783, the concert began at eight
and ended at eleven, and a London guide-book of 1786,[339] states
that the company at that time seldom left the garden till two in the
morning, if the weather was fine.

From about 1772–1778, a good deal of rowdyism appears to have disturbed
the harmony of Vauxhall, though it must be said that the company
under old Tyers had not always been distinguished for urbanity. The
rude treatment to which Fielding’s Amelia was subjected at the gardens
(_circ._ 1752), can hardly have been an isolated occurrence, and
in the summer of 1748 a party of ladies, apparently of good position,
used to crow like cocks when visiting Vauxhall, while their friends of
the male sex responded with an ass’s bray. One Mrs. Woolaston, attained
special proficiency in her imitations.[340]

At this time (1772–1778), it was the custom to violently emphasize the
importance of the _last night_ of the season. Young Branghton,
in _Evelina_ (_circ._ 1778), declares that the last night
at Vauxhall is the best of any; “there’s always a riot--and there the
folks run about--and then there’s such squealing and squalling! and
there all the lamps are broke, and the women run skimper scamper.”[341]

From the newspapers we learn that on the 4th of September, 1774,
“upwards of fifteen foolish Bucks who had amused themselves by breaking
the lamps at Vauxhall, were put into the cage there by the proprietors,
to answer for the damage done. They broke almost every lamp about the
orchestra, and pulled the door leading up to it off the hinges.”

[Illustration: _Vauxhall_]

The Dark Walk and Long Alleys were also not without their terrors.
Evelina, who had unwittingly strayed thither, was surrounded by a
circle of impudent young men, and the Branghton girls were also
detained, though they had gone more with their eyes open. “Lord,
Polly,” says the eldest, “suppose we were to take a turn in the Dark
Walks?” “Ay, do,” answered she, “and then we’ll hide ourselves,
and then Mr. Brown will think we are lost.” A quarrel in public between
two angry gentlemen was also a not uncommon incident, and the affair
sometimes assumed the heroic proportions of a Vauxhall “Affray.” For
example, one day in June 1772 two gentlemen, Captain Allen and Mr.
Kelly, created a scene. The words “scoundrel” and “rascal” were heard,
and Allen who had a sword would have overpowered Kelly who had only
his cane, if the bystanders had not interposed.[342] But the Vauxhall
Affray _par excellence_, was the affair of Bate, “the fighting
parson,” and Mr. Fitzgerald.[343] The Rev. Sir Henry Bate Dudley, Bart.
(as he afterwards was) was at Vauxhall on the evening of 23 July, 1773,
in company with Mrs. Hartley and some friends. A party of gentlemen sat
down near them, and made a deliberate attempt to stare the beautiful
actress out of countenance. Captain Crofts and Mr. George Robert
Fitzgerald were among the offenders, or at any rate took their part.
Bate expostulated loudly with Crofts, and a crowd gathered round. The
next day Bate and Crofts met at the Turk’s Head Coffee House in the
Strand, where matters were being peaceably adjusted, when Fitzgerald
appeared on the scene insisting on satisfaction for his friend Captain
Miles, who wanted to box the parson. Bate declared that he had offered
no insult to Miles, but ultimately the party adjourned to the front
dining-room of the Spread Eagle Tavern close by, and there in fifteen
minutes Bate had completely beaten Miles. A few days afterwards Bate
discovered that the supposed Captain Miles was Fitzgerald’s footman,
esteemed an expert bruiser. Bate published an account of the affair in
the papers, and Fitzgerald’s conduct was generally condemned, though he
tried to make out that the footman had only pretended to be beaten. A
further quarrel arising out of this incident led to a meeting between
Fitzgerald and a Captain Scawen in Flanders. As a finishing touch to
our picture of the Vauxhall manners of the period, we must recall an
evening in August 1782, when the Prince of Wales and a party of gay
friends visited the gardens. When the music was over the Prince was
recognised by the company, and being surrounded, crushed, and pursued,
had to beat a hasty retreat. The ladies followed the Prince, the
gentlemen pursued the ladies; the curious and the mischievous increased
the tumult, and in a few minutes the boxes were deserted, the lame
overthrown, and the well-dressed demolished.[344]

On May 10, 1769, a Ridotto al fresco was given at which not less than
ten thousand people are said to have been present. The Rotunda was
lit with nearly five thousand glass lamps, and a platform under an
awning was laid down in the gardens for dancing. The fancy dresses
were not numerous, and Walpole, who was there with his friend Conway,
only walked twice round, and was glad to get out of the mob and go
home. Some years later, on 29 May, 1786, there was another Ridotto to
celebrate (approximately) the Jubilee of Vauxhall Gardens. Fourteen
thousand additional lamps were displayed, and most of the company
appeared in dominoes, as at the original Ridotto of 1732.

[Illustration:

_A Collection_
of Favorite
_SONGS_]

During this period (1768–1790) the principal tenor was Vernon, who
had taken Lowe’s place in 1764. His répertoire appears to have been
somewhat less conventional than that of his predecessor, and his
gay and energetic manner rendered him popular in such songs as
the “English Padlock,” the “Crying and Laughing” Song, and “Cupid’s
recruiting Sergeant.” He was a constant singer at Vauxhall till the
end of the season of 1781. In 1783 Arrowsmith, a young tenor, pupil
of Michael Arne, aspired with some success to take Vernon’s place. He
sang till 1785, but in the summer of next year (1786) a more celebrated
tenor, Charles Incledon, then only twenty-two, made his appearance, and
sang till 1790.

The principal female singers were Mrs. Baddeley (about 1768); Mrs.
Weichsell (1769–1784); Miss Jameson (1770–1774); Miss Wewitzer
(_circ._ 1773); Mrs. Hudson (1773–1776); Mrs. Wrighten
(1773–1786); Mrs. Kennedy (1782–1785); Miss Leary (1786–1789); Mrs.
Martyr, the actress (1786–1789). Of these vocalists, Mrs. Baddeley
and Mrs. Kennedy were the well-known actresses. The latter possessed
a powerful voice, and often assumed male parts at Covent Garden.
Mrs. Wrighten had a vivacious manner and a bewitching smile, and
her “Hunting Song” was popular. Mrs. Weichsell, the mother of Mrs.
Billington the actress, was an especial favourite at the gardens. A
magazine poet of 1775[345] celebrates her among the best Vauxhall
singers.--

Sweet Weichsell who warbles her wood-note so wild,
That the birds are all hushed as they sit on each spray,
And the trees nod applause as she chaunts the sweet lay.

In 1774 James Hook was appointed organist and composer, and remained
at Vauxhall Gardens till 1820, exerting his facile, if not very
distinguished powers, as a music-writer. In 1775 Catches and Glees were
for the first time introduced into the concert. On an evening of July
of this year Lord Sandwich and a party of friends amused themselves
by starting some Catches and Glees of their own, which they sang from
their box near the orchestra. General Haile, who sat in the next box,
then requested a young lady who was with him to sing a song, which the
band obligingly accompanied, to the great delight of the audience.[346]
A favourite catch, “They say there is an echo here,” was performed
in 1780, by two sets of singers and musicians, the stanzas of the
principal band being answered by an invisible band of voices and wind
instruments stationed over the Prince’s box at the bottom of the garden.

[Illustration: _Vauxhall on a Gala Night_]

In 1783 Barthelemon led the orchestra, and a band of drums and fifes,
horns and clarionets, was introduced to perambulate the gardens after
the regular concert. These supplementary bands generally formed part of
the later Vauxhall entertainments.

§ 4. 1791–1821.

In 1792 the ordinary admission was raised from one shilling to
two shillings, and Grand Galas and Masquerades became features of
Vauxhall.[347] On 31 May, 1792, there was a successful masked ball, and
the gardens were a blaze of light. Amid a crowd of Haymakers, Punches,
Chimney Sweeps, and Sailors, Munden, the actor, attracted attention in
the character of a deaf old man.

People of all classes took part in these masqueradings. Deputy Gubbins
went as a very fat Apollo, and his spouse, a portly matron, as Diana
with a huge quiver. Master Gubbins was Cupid. But these characters were
misunderstood by the newspaper-reporter, who described the Deputy as
the Fat Knight, accompanied by his lady as Mother Quickly, and by the
hope of all the Gubbinses as an awkward Toxophilite.[348]

The “Dashalls” and “Tallyhos” sometimes caused trouble, and a newspaper
of 1812, describes how at a ball of this year, a crowd of masks
followed “Mr. Cockadoodle Coates” with crowing and exclamations of
“Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo.”

An imposing festival took place on 20 June, 1813, to celebrate the
Battle of Vittoria and Wellington’s victories. The Prince of Wales, and
all the Royal Dukes were present at the banquet.

During this period (1791–1821) some capable vocalists made their
appearance at Vauxhall; Darley (who had already sung at the gardens in
1789); Mrs. Franklin (who had previously appeared as Miss Leary); Mrs.
Mountain,[349] the actress (1793); the well-known Charles Dignum (1794)
and Mrs. Bland[350] the popular ballad-singer (1802). Dignum and Mrs.
Bland remained Vauxhall favourites for some years.[351]

[Illustration: M^{RS}. MARTYR.]

Fireworks, which had long before been usual at Cuper’s Gardens,
Marylebone Gardens, and Ranelagh, were not introduced at Vauxhall
till 1798. From about 1813, they became a permanent institution. In
1816, Mme. Saqui of Paris appeared at Vauxhall, and was the principal
attraction for several seasons. A mast about sixty feet high was
erected on the firework platform at the eastern end of the gardens, and
from its top depended an inclined rope 350 feet long. At twelve o’clock
a lady of muscular and masculine appearance, bedecked with spangles
and waving plumes, might be seen ascending this rope to the platform,
amid a glare of blue flame. Her appearance was almost supernatural:--

Amid the blaze of meteors seen on high,
Etherial Saqui seems to tread the sky;[352]

Having now reached the highest point, she made her descent in a shower
of Chinese Fire, and “in the face of a tempest of fireworks.” This
exciting performance became a necessity at Vauxhall, and Saqui’s feats
were afterwards reproduced by Longuemare and Blackmore.

[Illustration: CHARLES DIGNUM.]

At this period (_circ._ 1817) the newspapers describe the
orchestra as a “pagoda of lustre,” and the covered walks as arches of
fire. The songs, and the music, and the fireworks were the attractions
till about one o’clock, when the ordinary visitors withdrew. But the
noisy and the dissipated sometimes kept up the fun with reels and
waltzes till nearly four in the morning.[353]

We have now wandered far from the old Spring Garden of Jonathan Tyers
and the later history of Vauxhall must, in the present volume, be very
briefly summarised.

In the gardens themselves, some important changes had already been
effected. In 1786, a Supper Room had been added to the left of the
Rotunda, and in 1810–11 many of the trees in the Grove were cut down,
and part of the Grand Walk and two sides of the Grove were covered in
by a vaulted colonnade supported by cast-iron pillars. This colonnade
was brilliantly lit with lamps, and was convenient in the wet weather
that was proverbial at Vauxhall, but it greatly tended to destroy what
Walpole calls, “the gardenhood” of the place.[354] The last of the old
trees of Tyers’s period is said to have survived till 1805.

[Illustration: _Madame Saqui_

_The celebrated Performer on the Rope at Vauxhall._]

In 1821 Vauxhall Gardens passed out of the possession of the Tyers
family. After the death of Jonathan Tyers the younger in 1792, his
place was taken as proprietor and manager by his son-in-law Bryan
Barrett, who died in 1809. Barrett’s son, George Rogers Barrett then
acted as manager of the gardens for many years. In 1821, the property
was purchased from the Barrett family for £30,000[355] by T. Bish (the
lottery-office keeper), F. Gye, and R. Hughes.

§ 5. 1822–1859.

The gardens opened[356] for the season of 1822 on June 3rd, and for the
first time received the appellation of The Royal Gardens, Vauxhall.
This change in the name was made with the approval of George IV. who
as Prince of Wales had been a regular frequenter of the gardens and
had received from a grateful management public recognition of his
patronage. In 1791, a gallery had been constructed in the gardens
and named after him.[357] This was the shrine of an allegorical
transparency portraying him leaning against a horse held by Britannia.
Minerva bore his helmet; Providence fixed his spurs, and Fame blew a
trumpet and crowned him with laurel. The good-natured Darley came to
the front of the orchestra (August 1792) and sang in his best manner,
“The Prince of the People”:--

Endow’d with each virtue, the dignified Youth,
Ere Reason enlighten’d his mind,
Burst forth on the world in example and truth,
The boast and delight of Mankind.

The gardens had now (1822) completely assumed their nineteenth-century
aspect and Vauxhall, lit with “20,000 additional lamps,” began to
supply a constant succession of variety entertainments.

[Illustration: DARLEY IN THE ORCHESTRA AT VAUXHALL.]

The Rotunda was decorated as an Indian Garden Room, and at a later
date was fitted up with seats and boxes and used for the equestrian
performances. In the Saloon (or Picture Room) adjoining, where
historical pictures by Hayman were still hanging, was an exhibition
called by the erudite managers Heptaplasiesoptron. On plates of glass
ingeniously distributed manifold reflections were produced of revolving
pillars, palm-trees, twining serpents, coloured lamps and a fountain.

The old Cascade had been abolished about 1816, and a stage for
rope-dancing occupied its site (1822). A Submarine Cavern and a new
exhibition of Waterworks appear to have covered the Rural Downs.

At the eastern end of the garden was a building of wood and canvas
representing a Hermit’s Cottage, wherein might be seen--all in
transparency--the Hermit himself pursuing his studies by the aid of a
lamp, a blazing fire and a brightly-shining moon. At this end of the
gardens was the Firework Tower, where the fireworkers Hengler, Mortram
and Southby were now (1822) at work, preparing for the ascent of
Longuemare, which was to take place at twelve o’clock _à la Saqui_.

The South Walk (so much of it at least as remained uncovered) was
now known as the Firework Walk, and the three Triumphal Arches had
disappeared.

The Dark Walk of Vauxhall now began at the Submarine Cavern, passed
along the left hand and eastern boundaries of the garden and terminated
at the right hand end of the Grand Cross Walk, the last branch of it
being thus identical with the Lovers’ Walk of old days. The Cross Walk
was now usually denominated the Chinese Walk from its being lit with
Chinese lanterns. Four cosmoramas had taken the place of its Ruins.

[Illustration: _From an actual survey made by T. Allen, in 1826._

VAUXHALL GARDENS.

_1 Fire work Tower_
_2 Evening Star_
_3 Hermitage_
_4 Smugglers Cave_
_5 House in which M^r Barrett died_
_6 Statue of Milton_
_7 Transparency_
_8 Theatre_
_9 Chinese entrance_
_10 Artificers work shops_
_11 Octagon temples_
_12 Fountain_
_13 Circles of Boxes_
_14 Orchestra_
_15 Collonade_
_16 Rotunda_
_17 Picture Room_
_18 Supper Room_
_19 Ice House_
_20 Bar_
_21 Princes Pavilion_
_22 Entrance_
_23 Water Gate_
_24 House_]

The boxes and pavilions containing Hayman’s paintings remained much
as of old. Among other noteworthy features of the later Vauxhall was
the gilded cockle-shell sounding-board over the orchestra (from 1824);
a new avenue called the Italian Walk (from about 1836), and the Neptune
Fountain.

In 1822 Ramo Samee, the Indian juggler and sword-swallower, made his
appearance, and next year a Shadow Pantomime and Grey’s Fantoccini were
introduced. From this period, Vauxhall was enlivened or vulgarised by
the performance of comic songs. Mallinson (_circ._ 1823), W. H.
Williams (from 1824), and J. W. Sharp (from 1846) being some of the
best-known singers.

In 1826 the admission was raised to four shillings, on account of the
engagement of Braham and Miss Stephens and of Mme. Vestris, whose
“Cherry Ripe” was popular. In 1827 the space in front of the firework
tower was cleared of shrubs, and a representation of the Battle of
Waterloo took place there. Cooke’s stud and a thousand horse and foot
soldiers engaged in this action. The “Waterloo” ground afterwards
(1834) became the Polar Regions, and subsequently the space was covered
by other scenic displays, including (1847) a view of Venice with
“imitation water.”

In 1828 Ducrow’s stud was engaged, and in the next year ballets became
a feature.

In 1830–1832 the musical director was Sir Henry Bishop, who composed
operettas for the gardens, such as “The Sedan Chair,” “The Bottle of
Champagne,” and the “Magic Fan.” In the last-named Mrs. Waylett and
Paul Bedford took part. George Robinson, the alto, made Bishop’s “My
Pretty Jane” popular. On August 2, 1833, when a one shilling night was
tried, upwards of 27,000 people paid for admission.

The 19th of August, 1833, is notable in the Vauxhall annals as the
benefit night of old Simpson, for more than thirty-six years Master
of the Ceremonies at the gardens, and himself one of the sights and
institutions. He was a man of short stature and his plain face was
pitted with the smallpox, but his manner and dress made ample amends.
He wore a shirt with an enormous frill, a coat of antique cut, and
black silk knee-breeches and hose. In his uplifted left hand he carried
his tasselled and silver-headed cane, and with his right raised his hat
to every one he met, as a welcome to the Royal Property. His habitual
attitude has been immortalised by Cruikshank and he was exhibited (from
1833) in the gardens in coloured lamps--an immense effigy, forty-five
feet high. Simpson’s Vauxhall Addresses and his letters to newspaper
editors were masterpieces of florid humility. To the editor of _The
Times_ he wrote to say that he had given directions that the
illustrious editor’s “much-beloved family” were to be admitted “to any
number” at the Vauxhall Juvenile Fêtes--a communication which amused
Thomas Barnes who had no children. Simpson died, almost in office, on
25 December, 1835, after expressing a wish that the managers of the
Royal Gardens would dispose as they deemed fit of his “humble body.”
Thackeray calls him “the gentle Simpson, that kind, smiling idiot.”[358]

[Illustration: ADMISSION TICKET FOR GREEN’S BALLOON ASCENT, 31
JULY, 1850.]

In 1836 the gardens were open in the day-time, but Vauxhall by
daylight, as “Boz” observed, is “a porter-pot without porter; the House
of Commons without the Speaker; a gas-lamp without gas.” Ballooning
was the chief feature of these afternoon fêtes.[359] On 7 November,
1836, Charles Green, accompanied by Monck Mason and Robert Hollond,
M.P., ascended from the gardens at 1.30 P.M. in the balloon,
afterwards named “the Nassau,” and descended next morning near
Weilburg in the Duchy of Nassau after a voyage occupying eighteen
hours.[360] On 24 July, 1837, Green, Edward Spencer, and Robert Cocking
ascended in a balloon with a parachute attached, and Cocking in
descending in the parachute was killed.

In 1839 the proprietorship of Gye and Hughes came to an end, and
Vauxhall was closed in 1840. The gardens were again open in July 1841
with Alfred Bunn as stage-manager. During this season Bunn and “Alfred
Crowquill” published at the gardens their amusing series of _Vauxhall
Papers_, “a daily journal published nightly, every other evening,
three times a week.”[361] The Ravel Family and Ducrow’s horsemanship
were among the attractions of this season, which came to an end on
8 September, when the announcement was made that Vauxhall would
“positively close its doors for ever.”

On 9 September (1841) the gardens were offered for sale by auction,
but were bought in at 20,000 pounds. The furniture and fittings
were, however, disposed of at this time, notably, twenty-four of the
paintings by Hayman, which realised sums from £1 10s. to £9 15s. Four
busts of the celebrated Simpson were sold for half-a-crown apiece.

From 1842 till the final closing of the gardens, galas, masquerades,
and a great variety of entertainments were advertised in bold letters
of many colours, but Vauxhall was now rapidly declining. In 1845,
Musard conducted Promenade Concerts, and in that year and during most
of the years following, Mr. Robert Wardell was the lessee. In 1846,
gas lamps took the place of the oil lamps, and about this time the
musicians in the orchestra ceased to wear the cocked hats that had
long been their characteristic head-dress. In 1849, there was a Grand
Venetian Carnival, and 60,000 lamps were advertised.

[Illustration: VAUXHALL IN 1850, DOYLE’S VIEW FROM
_Punch_.]

In October 1853, when the annual license for the Royal Gardens was
applied for, great complaints were made of the nuisance caused by
the bals masqués which lasted from 11 P.M. till 5 or 6
A.M., and were frequented by many disreputable characters. The
license was renewed on the somewhat easy conditions that the fireworks
should not be let off after eleven, and that the gardens should close
at three in the morning. In 1858, Mr. R. Duffell was the director.
Monster galas were announced, and the gardens were opened on Sundays
for a promenade.

Monday, 25 July, 1859, witnessed the last entertainment at Vauxhall
Gardens. One of the vocalists at the concert then given was Mr. Russell
Grover, who died lately, in April 1896. After the concert and the
equestrian performances in the Rotunda, dancing was continued till past
midnight: the fireworks displayed the device _Farewell for Ever_,
and Vauxhall was closed.

On 22 August following, the auctioneer ascended his rostrum in the
gardens at noon and announced that the site had been let for building,
and that all the property on the premises must be sold. Three “deal
painted tables with turned legs,” made for the gardens in 1754, went
for nine shillings each. The dancing platform realised fifty guineas,
the ballet theatre seventeen guineas, and the orchestra ninety-nine
pounds. The pictures that still remained in the supper boxes were
purchased by Edward Tyrrell Smith, who placed them in the Banqueting
Hall at Cremorne. The whole sale realised about £800.

The builders soon went to work upon the twelve acres of Vauxhall
Gardens, and in 1864 the church of St. Peter, Vauxhall, erected on part
of the site, was consecrated. Numerous streets of small houses have
for many years completely obliterated all traces of the gardens, the
boundaries of which, it is, however, interesting to trace. The western
boundary is marked by the present Goding Street, and the eastern by St.
Oswald’s Place. Leopold Street and a small portion of Vauxhall Walk
define their northern limit, and Upper Kennington Lane marks their
southern extent. The space within these boundaries is occupied by Gye
Street, Italian Walk, Burnett Street, Auckland Street, Glynn Street,
and part of Tyers Street,[362] and also by St. Peter’s Church and the
Lambeth District School of Art.

[Illustration: The Farewel to VAUX HALL.]

As late as 1869 “the Supper Colonnade of Vauxhall” was advertised to be
sold cheap,[363] and with this prosaic detail of our own time, we must
perforce take leave of the pleasure gardens of a past century.

AUTHORITIES AND VIEWS.

The literary and pictorial matter available for a history
of Vauxhall Gardens is almost inexhaustible and, except in
a monograph, it would be impossible to set forth a detailed
list of authorities and views. The present sketch is primarily
based on the materials furnished by an extensive collection
in the writer’s possession, consisting of views, portraits,
songs, bills, and cuttings from newspapers and magazines, and
covering the period 1732–1859. Among many other authorities that
have been consulted, the following may be mentioned:--Pepys’s
_Diary_: _A Sketch of the Spring Garden, Vauxhall_ (by John
Lockman, 1753?); _A Description of Vauxhall Gardens_, London, S.
Hooper, 1762 (Guildhall Library, London); Kearsley’s _Stranger’s
Guide_ (1793?); _Sale Catalogues of Vauxhall Gardens_, 1818
(Brit. Mus.) and 1841 (W. Coll.); _A Brief Historical and
Descriptive Account of the Royal Gardens, Vauxhall_, 1822; _The
Vauxhall Papers_, 1841; the histories of Lambeth and Surrey; W.
H. Husk in Grove’s _Dict. of Music_, art. “Vauxhall Gardens”;
Austin Dobson’s _Eighteenth Century Vignettes_, 1st ser. p. 230,
ff.; Cunningham’s _Handbook of London_; Wheatley’s _London Past
and Present_; Walford, vi. 447, ff.; Blanchard in _Era Almanack_
for 1870, p. 9, ff.

INDEX

Abel, musician, 244

Abernethy, John, 73

Abrahams, Master, 50

Adam and Eve Tea Gardens, St. Pancras, 125–128

Adam and Eve Tea Gardens, Tottenham Court, 77–80

Adams, Master, 243

“Aeriel,” The, 320

Aitken, 243

Alexandra Theatre, 165

Alford, 65

Allen, Capt., 307

Amelia, Princess, 18

Anderson, Miss, 65

Angelo, 213

Angling, 45, 46, 68, 81 f., 168, 170

Apollo Gardens, 266, 268–270, 276

Apollo Saloon, 115, 116

Armstrong, John, 124

Arne, Dr., 96, 104, 106, 210, 250, 303

Arne, Michael, 96, 97, 310

Arne, Mrs., 291, 304

Arnold, Dr. Samuel, 103–106

Arrowsmith, 310

Arundel House, 247

Assembly House, Kentish Town, 129, 130

Baddeley, Robert, 108, 243

Baddeley, Mrs., 213, 243, 310

Bagnigge Wells, 56–67

Baker, Jo., drummer, 41

Baker, Mr., instrumentalist, 34

Baker, Mr., vocalist, 97, 242

Bannister, Charles, 104–106, 213

Bannister, Mrs. John, 105

Barley Mow Tea House and Gardens, 153

Barnes, Thomas, of _The Times_, 320

Barnshaw, 242–244

Barras, Joseph, 75

Barrett, Bryan, 316

Barrett, George Rogers, 316

Barthelemon, F. H., 104, 106, 311

Barthelemon, Mrs., 104, 106

Bartholomew, Christopher, 134

Bartholomew, Robert, 131, 132

Bartolozzi, 213, 214

Bascom, Charles, 261

Bate, “Parson”: _see_ Dudley, Sir H. B.

Bateman, Mrs., 52

Bates, Joah, 243, 244

Bath, Mr., 158

Battishill, Jonathan, 268

Batty’s Circus, 139

Bayswater Tea Gardens, 117–119

Beard John, 95, 103, 208, 209

Beauclerk, Lady Sydney, 254

Beaufoy, Messrs., 254, 256, 257

Bedford, Paul, 319

Bell Tavern, Kilburn, 194, 195

Belsize House, 189–193

Belvedere House and Gardens, Lambeth, 261, 262

Belvidere Tea Gardens, Pentonville, 145, 146

Belzoni, 52

Bennet, Mr., 41

Bennet, Mrs., 54

Bennett, Miss Maria, 251

Bermondsey Spa Gardens, 231–237

Bethlehem Hospital, 276

Bevis, John, 57

Billington, Mrs., 310

Binley, Mr., 269

Birkett, 233

Bish, T., 316

Bishop, Sir H., 319

“Black Prince,” The, Newington Butts, 278

“Black Queen” Coffee House and Tea Gardens, Shacklewell, 173

Blackmore, 138, 314

Bland, Mrs., 50, 136, 137, 312

Blewitt, C., 233

Blewitt, Jonas, 232

Bliss, John, 182

Blogg, Mr., 34, 68, 70

Blondin, 165

Body, W., 40

Bologna family, 51

Boodle’s Club, 216

Booth, Mr., 65

Booth, “General,” 86

Bowen, Jemmy, 178

Bowles, Mr., 137

Bowling Green House, 75, 76

Box, Mr., 65

Boyan, Mr., 65

Boyce, Dr., 101

Boyle, Robert, 29

Braham, 50, 319

Bray, Mrs., 41

Breach, Mr., 139

Brent, Mr., 209

Brent, Miss, 103, 104, 210, 304

Brewster, 243

Bridge, organ-builder, 95, 248

Brila family, 34

Bristow, W., 172

Broughton’s Amphitheatre, 80

Brown, Abram, 208

Brown, Mr., at the “Three Hats,” 150

Brown, Master, vocalist, 103

Brown, Thomas, 258, 259

Bryant, Mr., 139

Bull Feathers Hall, 145

Bunn, Alfred, 322

Burchell, Miss Isabella, 304: _see also_ Vincent, Mrs.

Burgess, Henry, jun., 249

Burling, Mr., 233

Burney, Dr. Charles, 202, 209

Burton, Mr., 233

Busby, Christopher, 145

Busby’s Folly, 145

Butler, organist, 202

Byfield, 202

Byrn, Mrs., 233

Byrne, James, 50

Byrne, Oscar, 50

Caillot, 105, 108, 213, 215

Calvert, Mrs., 105

Camberwell Grove House: _see_ Grove House, Camberwell

Canning, George, 226, 228

Canonbury House Tea Gardens, 154, 155

Cantrell, Miss, 243

Caporale, 209

Carey, George Saville, 108

Carey, Master, 51

Carli, Miss, 243

Carlyle’s “Diamond Necklace,” quoted, 267

Carpenter, Lady Almeria, 208

Carter, Mrs., 201, 272

Carter, Messrs. W. H. and J. R., 238

Cartwright, Mrs., 105

Castle Inn and Tea Gardens, Colebrooke Row, 147

Caston, Robert, 187

Catches and Glees, 102, 106, 210, 310

Catley, Anne (“Nan”), 101, 105

Cavanagh, John, 157, 158

Cave, vocalist, 116

Cemmitt, Miss, 233

Chabert, 136

Chad’s Well: _see_ St. Chad’s Well

Chalk Farm, 10

Chambers, Mrs., 97

Chambré, Sir Allen, 72

Champness, 97, 210

Chapman, G. R., 238

Chapman, Richard, 65

Chatterton, Thomas, 104

Charke, Mrs. Charlotte, 35

Cheere, Henry, 302

Cheney, Master, 104

Cherokee Indians, 220

Chinese Junk, 260

Cibber, Colley, 35, 147

Cipriani, 213, 214

Claggett, Walter, 268, 270

Clanfield, 41, 104, 105

Clark, Mrs., at Finch’s Grotto, 243

Clarke, Miss, rope-dancer, 138

Clarke, Mr., at Finch’s Grotto, 243

Clennell, Luke, 61

Clifford, Master, 65

Clitherow, 105, 213, 253

Coan, John, 146, 220, 221

Coates, “Romeo,” 312

Cobham, Lord, 18

“Cobham’s Head,” 68, 69

Cocking, Robert, 322

Cocklin, violinist, 243

Cold Bath near the “Adam and Eve,” 79, 80

Collett, Mrs., 101

Collier, Mrs., 170

Collins, Benjamin, 154

Collins, Sam (Samuel Vagg), 109

Colman, G., 214

Coningham, equestrian, 150, 151

Cooke, equestrian, 319

Copenhagen House, 156–160

Corelli, 105, 248, 250

Cornelys, Mrs., 27, 96, 213

Costello, 51

Costellow, organist, 269

Cox’s Museum, 106

Coxwell, Henry, 135

Craven, William, 25–27

Cremorne Gardens, 11, 324

Cricket, 131, 159, 302

Crofts, Capt., 307

Cromwell House, Brompton, 225–227

Cromwell’s Gardens, Brompton, 225–228

Crosier, Joseph, 281

Cruikshank, George, 134

Culver, Mr., 105

Cumberland, Duke of, 35, 98, 251

Cumberland Tea Gardens, Vauxhall, 281, 283–285

Cuper, Boyder, 247

Cuper, John, 247

Cuper’s Gardens, 40, 41, 181, 194, 247–257, 258, 261

Cupid’s Gardens, 248, 249, 252

Curtis, William, botanist, 264

Dalton, James, 127

Darking, Mr., 65

Darley, Mr., 312, 316, 317

Davis, “Jew,” 50

Davis, John, 58, 62

Davis, Miss, vocalist, 101, 103

Dearle, Mr., 210, 242, 244

Defesch, 97

“Denbies” at Dorking, 305

D’Eon, the Chevalier, 216

Desaguliers, Dr., 280

Devil’s House, Holloway, 167, 168

Dibdin, C., 50, 106, 210, 212, 213

Dibdin, Thomas, 50

Dickie, 65

Dighton, 50

Dignum, Charles, 312, 313

Dingley’s, Islington, 148

Diving at Ranelagh, 217

Dobney, Mrs. Ann, 141

Dobney’s Bowling Green, 141–144

Dodswell, George, 30

Dog and Duck, 263, 264, 269, 271–277, 280

Dominique, Mr., 34

Donaldson, Mrs., 97

Dorman, Mrs., 104, 243, 244

Dowson, Miss, 243, 244

Drury, General, 97

Dubellamy, 106

Dubois, 51

Duck-hunting, 271

Ducking Pond House, 25

Ducrow, 319, 322

Dudley, Sir Henry Bate, Bart., 307, 308

Duffield, R., 324

Dunn, John, 139

Duval, Claude, 167

Dwarf’s Tavern, Chelsea, 146, 220, 221

Eagle Tavern, 11, 86, 87

Eaton, Charles, 127

English Grotto, Rosoman Street, 37–39

Espagnole, La Belle, 50

Esser, Miss, 105

Evans, Ephraim, 248, 249

Evans, Mrs., 249 ff.

Evelyn, John, 286, 287

Exeter Change, 243, 263

Falkner, Miss M. A., 96

Fawcett, Mr., 168

Fawcett, vocalist, 210

Feathers Tavern, Cuper’s Gardens, 247 ff.

Ferrand, Mr., 96

Festing, Michael, 208

Fielding, Sir John, 61, 96

Finch, Thomas, 241 ff.

Finch’s Grotto Gardens, 241–246

Fisher, violinist, 106

Fitzherbert, George Robert, 307

Fitzherbert, Mrs., 216

Fives-playing at Copenhagen House, 157

Flack, Mr., 269

Fleet River, 61, 64

Flora Tea Gardens, Bayswater, 117, 119

Flora Tea Gardens, Westminster Bridge Road, 265

Floranze, Mme., 233

Florida Gardens, Brompton, 225–228

“Folly, The,” on the Thames, 248, 258–260

Foote, Samuel, 214

Forbes, Mrs., 103–105, 243

Forcer, Francis, sen., 46, 47

Forcer, Francis, jun., 46, 47

“Forge of Vulcan,” 105 ff.

Formantel, Miss, 209

Foster, Mr., 65

Foster, Mrs., 105

“Fountain” Tavern, Baldwin Street, 85

Fountayne, Dr. John, 98, 100

Franklin, Mrs., 312: _see also_ Leary, Miss

Frasi, Giulia, 208

Frederick Prince of Wales, 291

Freeman, Mrs., 233

Froud, Miss, 103

Gainsborough, Earl of, 177

Gambling, 16, 17, 75, 94, 180, 181, 190, 260

Garnerin, 217, 321

Garrick, 214

Garth’s _Dispensary_, 177

Garvey, Miss, 243

Genovini, Carlo, 220

George (IV.), Prince of Wales, 215, 216, 238, 308, 312, 316

Gibbons, Dr., 177

Gibbons, Mrs., 101

Gibbs, 65

Gibson, 65

Giovanelli, Edward, 164, 165

Glanville, Thomas, 97

Glindon, 116

Gloucester Lodge, Brompton, 228

Gloucester, Maria Duchess of, 227

Goldsmith, Oliver, 133, 134, 154, 161, 162, 201

“Goldsmith’s Arms,” Southwark, 246

Goodwin, Sterling, 244, 280

Gordon Riots, 185

Gough, Daniel, 95

Graham, Mr., 135

Graham, Mrs., 52, 117, 135

Granby, Lord, 222

Granom, Lewis, 251

Gray, Thomas, 200, 201

Greatorex, Mr., 80

Grecian Saloon, 86

Green, Charles, 135, 321, 322

Green, Master, vocalist, 243, 244

Grey’s Fantoccini, 319

Griffith, Charles, organist, 58

Grimaldi, Giuseppe, 48

Grimaldi, Joseph, 50

Grist, Mr., 267

Gronamann, Sibilla, 250

Grotto Garden, Rosoman Street, 37–39

Grove House, Camberwell, 10, 164

Grover, Russell, 324

Guidot, Dr. Thomas, 43

Gwynne, Nell, 56, 58, 64

Gye, F., 291, 316, 322

Hagley, William, 263

Haile, General, 311

Hale House, Brompton, 225–227

Halhed, John, 29

Halifax, Earl of, 96, 97

Hamilton, John, 65

Hampstead Wells, 177–183

Hampton, John, 119, 135

Handel, G. F., 68, 98, 102, 106, 243, 244, 248, 250, 293, 303

Hardy, Mr., 22

Harper, Miss, 105

Harrington, Mrs., 157

Harris, John, M.P., 245

Harriss, Mr., 232, 233

Hart, N., teacher of dancing, 281

Hartley, Mrs., 307

Hasse, Sig., 250

Hawkins, Sir John, 21

Haydn, 269

Hayman, Francis, 303, 318, 322

Hedger, Mr., 273 ff.

Hengler, 318

Hercules Pillars, Fleet Street, 248

Herryman, Mr., 103

Hiem, R., 226, 227

Highbury Barn, 161–166

Highbury Society, The, 157, 161

Hill, Sir John, 117, 205, 207

Hinton, Archibald, 164

Hinton, John, 164

Hogarth, 53, 80, 290, 291, 294, 302

Holland, John, 20, 21

Hollond, Robert, M.P., 321

Hood, Mr., 54

Hook, James, 103–106, 309, 310

Hornsey Wood House, 169–171

House of Detention, 40, 42

Howard, John, 21, 22

Howell, James, 189, 191

Hudson, Mr., at Ranelagh House, 210

Hudson, Mrs., at Vauxhall, 310

Hudson, Robert, organist, 243

Hughes, Mr., of Bagnigge Wells, 57, 62

Hughes, Charles, equestrian, 150, 151, 226

Hughes, R., 316, 322

Hunting at Belsize House, 190–192

Huntingdon, Countess of, 27

Hyat, Miss, 101

Iliff, Mrs., 269

Incledon, Charles, 216, 310

Ireland, Mr., 280

Isaacs, Miss Rebecca, 165

Islington Spa, 15–24

Jack Straw’s Castle, Hampstead, 186

Jackson, of the Grotto Garden, 37, 38

Jameson, Miss, 310

Jenny’s Whim, Pimlico, 222–224

Jew’s Harp House, 113, 114

Jews’ Spring Garden, 88

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 107, 201, 203, 254, 272, 305

Johnson, Thomas, equestrian, 142, 148, 220

Johnson, Mr., of “Dobney’s,” 141

Johnson’s Prospect House: _see_ Dobney’s Bowling Green

Jonas, Philip, 143, 145

Jones, William, architect, 199

Jones, hornpipe dancer, 34

Jones, Welsh harper, 248

Jordan, Mrs., 215

Jubilee Gardens, Pentonville: _see_ Dobney’s Bowling Green

Kean, Edmund, 51

Kear, 97, 242, 243

Keeble, organist, 202

Keefe, Mr., 280

Kelly, Mr., 307

Kemp, William, 81 ff.

Kennedy, Mrs., 310

Kenrick, Dr., 108

Kentish Town Assembly House, 129, 130

Kerman, Madam, 34

Keyse, Thomas, 231 ff.

Kilburn Wells, 194–196

King, Erasmus, 280

King’s Bench Prison, 276

Knerler, Mr., 96

Lacy, patentee of Drury Lane, 199

Lambert, George, 128

Lambeth Wells, 279, 280

Lamotte, Mme., 267

Lampe, Mr., 96

Lampe, Mrs., 50, 101

Lane, James, 154

Langley, John, 15

Lauder, Mr., 242

Leader, Mr., 157

Leary, Miss, 310, 312

Leaver, Mrs., 269

Le Mœurs, 65

Leeming, Joseph, 320

Leeming, Robert, 68

Legg, Mr., 101

Leotard, 165

Lewis, Mr., of Restoration Gardens, 263

Lloyd, Mrs., 170

London Corresponding Society, 158

London Spa, 29–32

Long, Robert, 101

Long’s Bowling Green, 94

Longuemare, 314, 318

“Lord Cobham’s Head,” 68, 69

Lord, Thomas, 132

Love, Mr., 116

Lowe, Thomas, 50, 97, 101–103, 242, 243, 291, 295, 304, 308

Lucas, William, 73

Lunardi, Vincent, 78

Lyon, Master, vocalist, 243

Macklin, 52

Maddox, Michael, 48

Mallinson, 319

Mara, Mme., 216

Marble Hall, Vauxhall, 281, 282

Marinari, G., 215

Marriages at Sion Chapel, Hampstead, 178, 180

Marshall, Miss, 243

Martin, Edward, 123

Martin, the “Tunbridge Knight,” 18

Martyr, Mrs., 310

Marylebone Gardens, 40, 93–110

Marylebone Music Hall, 109

Marylebone Spa, 108

Mason, Monck, 321, 322

Masters, Elizabeth, 290

Mattocks, Mr. and Mrs., 250

May-dance, 30, 115

Maze, at New Georgia, 188;
at White Conduit House, 135

McDougal, Mr., 65

Mensall, Mr., 73

Merlin’s Cave, Clerkenwell, 54, 55

Merlin’s Cave at the New Wells, 34, 54;
at Richmond, 54

Mermaid Gardens, Hackney, 10

Miles, James, 46, 47

Miles, Mr., 273

Miles’s Music House, 46, 47

Mills, Mr., 273

Milton, statue of, 302

Milward, Mr., 233

Misaubin, “Dr.,” 18

Molloy, Mr., 22

Monconys, 287

Monkhouse, Mr., 65, 137

Montagu, Lady M. W., 20

Montpelier Gardens, Walworth, 10

Moore, Mr., 173

Moore, at Finch’s Grotto, 242

Morland, George, 153

Morland, Sir Samuel, 287

Mortram, 318

Mother Huff’s, Hampstead, 180

“Mount Etna” at Ranelagh, 215, 216

Mount Gardens: _see_ Flora Tea Gardens, Westminster Bridge Road

Mountain, Mr. and Mrs., 312

Moyse, Miss, 101, 243

Mozart, 210

Mulberry Garden, 1

Mulberry Garden, Clerkenwell, 40–42

Munden, 72, 311

Murphin, 243

Musard, 322

Nassau balloon, 322

Natator, the man frog, 165

Negus, Mr., 66

Nepecker, Mr., 243

New Georgia, Hampstead, 187, 188, 222

New Spring Gardens, Chelsea, 221

New Spring Garden, Vauxhall (Vauxhall Gardens), 78, 286, 287

New Tunbridge Wells: _see_ Islington Spa

New Wells, near the London Spa, 33–36, 40

Newington Butts, 278

Newland, Abraham, 134

North, Lord, 214

Northampton Chapel, 27

Oakes, Miss, 243

Oakman, J., 232

“Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day,” B. Thornton’s, 209

Offield, Mr., 242

Old Spring Garden, Vauxhall, 286, 287

Oldcastle: _see_ Sir John Oldcastle

Oldfield, Mr., 242

Onslow, Arthur, 113

Orange Theatre, 219

Orchard, Robert, 158

O’Rourke, Paddy, 65

Oswald, 209

Ozealey, 65

Paddy O’Rourke, 65

Paine, Thomas, 115

Palmer, flute-player, 243

Pancras Wells, 123–126

Pandean Band, 135

Pantheon, Oxford Street, 25, 268

Pantheon, Spa Fields, 25–28, 143

Park, hautboy player, 103

Parry, harper, 208

Parson Bate: _see_ Dudley, Sir H. B.

Patagonian Theatre, 243

Pay, Miss, 233

Pearson, Mrs., 44

Peerless Pool, The, 81–85

Peile, Mr. and Mrs., 233

Penny’s Folly, 145, 146

Pepys, Samuel, 1, 2, 94, 189, 258, 286–288

Perceval, Rt. Hon. Spencer, 192

“Perillous Pond,” 81

Petersham, Lady Caroline, 298

Phelps, Samuel, 52

Phillips, Mr., 103, 106

Piercy, Mrs., 233

Pike, organ-builder, 242

Pinchbeck, 18, 291

Pinder a Wakefielde tavern, 56

Pinto, Mrs., 104: _see also_ Brent, Miss

Pinto, Thomas, 103, 104, 250

Piquenit, 104

Placido, 51

Plenius, Miss, 101

Pleyel, 269

Price, equestrian, 142, 148, 150

Prospect House: _see_ Dobney’s Bowling Green

Prynn, 65

Queen’s Head and Artichoke, 111, 112

Racing, 51, 191, 236

Ramelio, Mme., 97

Ramo Samee, 319

Ranelagh, Earl of, 199

Ranelagh House and Gardens, described, 199–218;
origin of, 199 ff.;
Rotunda, 201 ff.;
entertainments and company, 203 ff.;
annals of, A.D. 1742–1769, 208 ff.;
history of, A.D. 1770–1805, 212 ff.;
allusions to, 34, 40, 266, 294

Ranelagh Regatta, 213

Rann, John, 60, 61, 67

Ravel Family, 322

Rawlins, Mr., dancer, 244

Raworth, Mr., 101

Rayner, Mr. Dove, 88

Rayner, Miss, 34, 35

Redigé, Paul, 50

Reed, Mrs., at Finch’s Grotto, 243

Reeves, Mons., 105

Reilly, Luke, 283

Reinhold, 97, 104–106, 214, 291

Restoration Spring Gardens, 263, 264

“Revenge,” Chatterton’s, 104

Reynolds, Sir J., 201, 214, 235

Reynoldson, 103

Rice, T. D., 139

Richer, wire dancer, 50

Rigby, Vernon, 165

“Riley’s” Gardens, Vauxhall, 283

Rippin, Dorothy, 177

Rivière, Lazare, 272

Roberts, Mr., 65

Robinson, George, vocalist, 319

Robinson, Sir Thomas, 40, 200, 212

Rockholt House, 40

Rodell, Mons., 106

Rogers, Samuel, 182, 205

Romanzini, Miss, 50: _see also_ Bland, Mrs.

Rose of Normandy tavern, 93, 94, 109

Rosemary Branch, Islington (Hoxton), 10

Rosherville Gardens, 11

Rosoman, Mr., 25, 33, 34, 47, 48

Rossi, 104, 215, 233

Roubillac, 302, 303

Rouse, R., 139

Rouse, T., 86

Royal Apollo Saloon, 115, 116

Royal Gardens, Vauxhall: _see_ Vauxhall Gardens

Royal Oak Lottery, 17

Rule, Rev. John, 147

Sadler, Mr., 43, 44

Sadler’s Wells, 15, 43–53, 124, 243

St. Chad’s Well, 72–74

St. George’s Spa: _see_ Dog and Duck

St. Helena Gardens, Rotherhithe, 238–240

St. Pancras Wells: _see_ Pancras Wells

Sainville, M., 216

Salter, Mr., of St. Chad’s Well, 72

Salter, Mr. (jun.?), of St. Chad’s Well, 73

Salter, Thomas, of Bagnigge Wells, 64

Samee, Ramo, 319

Sampson, equestrian, 142, 148–151, 273

Sampson, Mrs., 149, 150

Sandwich, Lord, 310

Saqui, Mme., 312–315

Scawen, Capt., 308

“Serva Padrona,” 97, 105, 106

Shacklewell, 173

Shaftoe, Charlotte, 274

Shakespeare Tavern and Jubilee Gardens: _see_ Dobney’s Bowling Green

Sharp, J. W., 319

Sharp and Warren, Messrs., 135

Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, 94

“Shepherd and Shepherdess,” 85–87

Sherratt, John, 95

Siamese Twins, 165

Sibilla, Signora, 250

Simpson, Mr., at Bagnigge Wells, 65

Simpson, C. H., of Vauxhall Gardens, 319, 320, 322

Sion Chapel, Hampstead, 178

“Sir John Oldcastle” Tavern, 70, 71

“Sixteen Strings Jack”: _see_ Rann, John

Skeggs, Mr., 209

Sloman, Charles, 65, 139

Smart, Christopher, 104

Smart, violinist, 243, 244

Smeisser, G., 195

Smith, A., at Finch’s Grotto, 243, 244

Smith, Edward Tyrrell, 165, 324

Smith, H., 65

Smith, J. T., 234 f., 254

Smith, Miss, vocalist, 101

Smith, Mrs., at Finch’s Grotto, 243

Smith, Thomas, at Finch’s Grotto, 243

Smith’s Tea Gardens, Vauxhall, 283

Snell, Hannah, 35

Snow, Sophia, 243

Snow, Valentine, 243, 303

Soame, Dr. John, 181

Southby, 318

Spa Fields Chapel, 27

Spaniards, The, Hampstead, 184–186

Spencer, Edward, 322

Spinacuti, 50

Spring Garden, Charing Cross, 1, 286

Spring Gardens, Chelsea, 221

Spring Gardens, Knightsbridge, 221

Spring Garden, The New, Vauxhall, 78

Spring Garden, Stepney, 88, 89

Spring Garden, Stoke Newington, 172

Spring Gardens, Vauxhall (Vauxhall Gardens), 286 ff.

Squibb, Mr., 101

Stanesby, Mr., 96

Staples, William, 184

Star and Garter Tavern, Chelsea, 220, 221

Steevens, George, 107

Stephens, Miss, 319

Stephenson, Miss, Bermondsey Spa, 233

Stepney Spring Garden, 88, 89

Stevenson, Miss, Vauxhall Gardens, 295, 304

Stock, W., 64

Stoke Newington Spring Garden, 172

Storace, 97, 101

Storer, Mrs., 209

Strologer, Master, 68

Strombolo House, Chelsea, 219

Suett, Master (Dick Suett), 243

Surrey Zoological Gardens, 11

Sutton, Mr., 65

Sutton, Mrs., 154

Swift, Jonathan, 288

Swinnerton, G., 128

Sydney Gardens, Bath, 270

Talbot, Miss, 272

Tate, Mr., 153

Taylor, Mr., 101, 103

Taylor, Miss, 238

Taylor Mrs., 101, 243

Temple of Apollo: _see_ Apollo Gardens

Temple of Flora, 266–267

Tenducci, 210

Tenoe, Mr., 178

Tessier, 215, 233

Theobald, James, 261

Thomas, Giles, 185

Thomas, Miss, 105, 210, 243

Thompson, Mrs., 104–106, 213, 233

Thornton, Bonnell, 209

Thorogood, Mr., 65

Thrale, Mrs., 272

Three Hats, The, Islington, 148–152

Three Tuns Ale House, 75

Todd, Thomas, 217

Tooth, Mr., 158

Torré, 105–107

Townshend, Dr., 241

Trades Unionists in Copenhagen Fields, 160

“Treat, The,” Stepney, 89

Trelawny, Miss, 106

Trusler, Mr. John, 95, 101

Trusler, Dr. John, 97

Trusler, Miss, 95, 101

Tunstall, Miss, 116, 312

Turpin, Dick, 100

Tyers, Jonathan, 289, 290 ff.

Tyers, Jonathan, the younger, 305 ff.

Tyers, Thomas (“Tom”), 305

Tytler, J., 78

Vauxhall Affray, The, 307

Vauxhall Gardens, account of, 286–326;
allusions to, 34, 200, 201, 252, 269, 283, 284;
early history of, 286–289;
Ridottos at, 298, 308;
season-tickets, 290, 291, 294;
approaches to, 293 ff.;
the Cascade, 296, 318;
refreshments at, 296–300;
Grand Walk, Dark Walks, Lovers’ Walk, &c., described, 300–302,
318;
the boxes, 302, 303;
the Rotunda, 303, 314, 318;
concerts, 303, 304, 308–312, 319;
affrays and disorderly scenes at, 305–308, 312;
fireworks, 312 ff.

_Vauxhall Papers_, 322

Venning, Mrs., 238

Vernon, Admiral, 34, 96, 250

Vernon, vocalist, 214, 304, 308, 310

Vestris, Mme., 319

Victoria Tea Gardens, Bayswater, 119

Vincent, Mrs., 101, 304

Walpole, Horace, 200, 210, 222, 249, 294, 298, 308

Wardell, Robert, 323

Warner, Jemmy, 50

Watts, Joseph, 82, 84

Watts, Thomas, 82, 84

Waylett, Mrs., 319

Weichsell, Mrs., 304, 310

Wellington, Duke of, 312

Werner, harper, 103

Wesley, Rev. John, 36

Weston, of Drury Lane, 243

Wewitzer, Miss, 106, 310

White Conduit House, 131–140, 146, 162

White Conduit Loaves, 133

Wilde, Miss, 106

Wilder, Mr., 227

Wildman, Daniel, 143

Wilford, General R. R., 218

Wilkinson, Miss, 48

Williams, Mr., 241, 243 ff.

Williams, W. H., 319

Williams’s Grotto Gardens, 243 ff.

Willoughby, Mr., 162

Willoughby’s Tea Gardens, 162

Wingfield, Miss, 269

Wood, Miss, 238

Wood, Thomas, 129

Woolaston, Mrs., 306

Worgan, Dr. John, 303

World’s End, Knightsbridge, 221

Worman, Mr., 250

Wright, Miss, 210, 304

Wrighten, Mrs., 236, 310

Wynne, Sir W. W., 245

Yates, Mr., 35

Yeates, Mr., 35, 36

York Buildings Music Meeting, 279

Yorkshire Stingo, The, 115–116

Young, Miss, 209

Zucker, Mr., 145, 146

Zucker, Mrs., 145

THE END

_Richard Clay and Sons, Limited, London and Bungay._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Some of the rarer items of the collection which it seemed desirable
to cite as authorities are marked W. or W. Coll.

[2] Several London pleasure gardens were in existence _before_ the
Restoration, the Mulberry Garden on the site of Buckingham Palace and
the Spring Gardens at Charing Cross being well-known instances. But in
the present volume only such seventeenth-century gardens as survived
till the succeeding century are noticed.

[3] The English Grotto.

[4] Cp. _The Idler_, No. 15, July 1758.

[5] At Vauxhall fireworks were not introduced till 1798, but
illuminations were always a feature of the gardens.

[6] Bermondsey Spa and Finch’s Grotto, above mentioned, might be
classed among the spas and springs, but their amusements resembled
those of Vauxhall.

[7] _Islington Wells, a song of all the virtues of those old waters
newly found out._ London, 1684 (Brit. Mus.), cp. _A morning
ramble; or Islington Wells burlesqt._ London, 1684 (Cunningham,
_London_, 1850, s.v. “Islington”).

[8] _London Gazette_, 24 September, 1685.

[9] Nearly all modern writers--Mr. Pinks is an exception--have
in some way or other confused Sadler’s Wells with New Tunbridge
Wells (Islington Spa). The mistake may have first arisen from the
circumstance that Sadler, in his printed prospectus concerning the
discovery of the wells on his premises, describes them as “Sadler’s New
Tunbridge Wells near Islington.” The sub-title of New Tunbridge Wells
never, however, took root at Sadler’s, though it was soon permanently
adopted (as is stated in our text) by the rival Islington Wells,
_i.e._ Islington Spa.

[10] The following details are mainly derived from _Islington Wells,
or the Threepenny Academy_, 1691, and from Edward Ward’s _Walk to
Islington_, 1699, fol. (Ward’s _Works_, ii. 63, ff. ed. 1709).

[11] Ward describes the gambling places as an outhouse with sheds and a
hovel adjoining.

[12] _Islington Wells, or the Threepenny Academy._

[13] Cp. E. Ward, “The Infallible Predictor” (_Works_, ii. p. 355,
ed. 1709).

[14] An advertisement of 23 May, 1712 (Percival’s Sadler’s Wells
announces the performances from six to ten in the morning and from four
till eight in the evening of two wonderful posture-makers, a man and a
child of nine, to take place in the dancing-room of New Tunbridge Wells.

[15] Extract from family correspondence communicated by C. L. S. to
_Notes and Queries_, 8th ser. vi. 1894, p. 69.

[16] In 1760 the breakfasting was ninepence, the afternoon tea
sixpence, and the coffee eightpence. No stronger beverages were sold.

[17] A serious attempt seems to have been made to keep this rule.
The _London Daily Advertiser_ for 25 June, 1752, records that a
beautiful though notorious woman, who had appeared at the dancing at
New Tunbridge on June 24, was, on being recognised by the company,
turned out by a constable.

[18] Dr. Russel, who analysed the water about 1733, says that it had a
taste of iron and (unless mixed with common water) was apt to make the
drinker giddy or sleepy. This was the experience of Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu, who, however, expatiates on the benefit she had derived from
the Spa.

[19] This was between the main part of the Spa gardens and St. John’s
Street Road; cp. Wallis’s _Plan_, 1808.

[20] A band had played in the morning under Holland’s management
(advertisement in the _Public Advertiser_, 5 May, 1775).

[21] Malcolm, _Lond. rediv._ iii. 230, 231.

[22] The orchestra connected with it was pulled down in 1827;
Cromwell’s _Clerkenwell_, p. 357.

[23] No. 6, Eliza Place, stood on the site of the old entrance (Pinks).

[24] Mr. Philip Norman, writing in _Notes and Queries_, 8th
ser. vi. 1894, p. 457, says:--“I have seen (in the cellar of No. 6,
Spa Cottages, behind the house at the corner of Lloyd’s Row) grotto
work with stone pilasters and on each side steps descending. Here, I
believe, was the chalybeate spring. For many years it has ceased to
flow.”

[25] _Daily Telegraph_, 1 August, 1895.

[26] A newspaper paragraph of April 1752, mentions the little summer
house at the Ducking Pond House in Spa Fields, as being lately stripped
of its chairs and tables by some pitiful rogues.

[27] In _The Macaroni and Theatrical Magazine_ for January 1773
(p. 162) is the notice:--

“Pantheons: The _Nobility’s_, Oxford Road; the _Mobility’s_,
Spawfields.”

[28] The organ appears, about 1772, to have been silenced on Sundays,
at least for a time. A correspondent in _The Gazetteer and New Daily
Advertiser_ for 20 June, 1772, refers to the Middlesex Justices who
will not suffer the organs to be played at the Little Pantheon, White
Conduit House, Bagnigge Wells, &c.

[29] _May Day, or the Origin of Garlands_, a poem published in
1720. _The Field Spy_, published in 1714 (Rogers, _Views of
Pleasure Gardens of London_, p. 46), speaks of the spring and garden
as if a good deal frequented in 1714.

[30] A rare bronze ticket of oblong form, incised with the words,
“London Spaw No. 19,” is in the possession of Mr. W. T. Ready, the
London coin dealer. It may belong to about the middle of the last
century.

[31] Rosoman Street was called after Mr. Rosoman, who about 1756 built
the west side, which was then called Rosoman Row. Rosoman, who acted at
the New Wells in 1744, was the well-known proprietor of Sadler’s Wells.
Pinks (_Clerkenwell_) states that the houses numbered (in his
time) 5 to 8 occupied the site of the Wells.

[32] The New Wells seem to have been already established in 1737.
The earliest advertisement quoted in Pinks is of 1738, but there are
earlier advertisements (W. Coll.), May to August 1737, in one of which
reference is made to the alterations in the theatre that season.

[33] _Daily Post_, 3 July, 1742 (quoted in _Gent. Mag._ 1813,
pt. ii. p. 561).

[34] Doran’s _London in Jacobite Times_, ii. pp. 148, 149.

[35] The English Grotto has escaped the minute research of Mr.
Pinks, and his continuator Mr. Woods (cp. however, Daniel, _Merrie
England_, i. chap. ii. p. 33). It is practically known only from the
following views:--

(1) A view of the English Grotto, near the New River Head.
Chatelain del. et sculp. 1760. Crace, _Cat._ p. 591, No. 60
(cp. engraving (_circ._ 1760), without artist’s name, in W.
Coll.).

(2) The Grotto, near the New River Head, 1760. A drawing in
Indian ink. Crace, _Cat._ p. 590, No. 59.

(3) A water-colour copy of No. 1 by R. B. Schnebellie. Crace,
_Cat._ p. 591, No. 61.

[36] The continuator of Pinks (p. 740) quotes advertisements of 1769,
without, however, specifying the newspapers referred to. J. T. Smith,
_Book for a Rainy Day_, p. 70, refers to the Grotto Garden as
being kept by Jackson in 1779. Pinks (p. 169) mentions the fountain and
Grotto in 1780, and describes the site.

[37] Rockhoutt = Rockholt House in Essex.

[38] The legs referred to are those of Sir Thomas Robinson, the
principal proprietor of Ranelagh, nicknamed Long Sir Thomas.

[39] The New Wells, Clerkenwell.

[40] Cuper’s Gardens, Lambeth.

[41] Newspaper advertisement in “Public Gardens” collection in
Guildhall Library, London.

[42] Advertisement in _Daily Advertiser_, 8 July, 1745.

[43] Sadler originally advertised the place as “Sadler’s New Tunbridge
Wells,” but it soon became known simply as Sadler’s Wells. On the
confusion with the neighbouring New Tunbridge Wells (Islington Spa),
_see_ Islington Spa, _supra_, note 3.

[44] About 1800 the forgotten well was accidentally re-discovered
between the stage door and the New River.

[45] A poem by William Garbott, entitled the _New River_,
published probably about 1725.

[46] _A new song on Sadler’s Wells_, set by Mr. Brett, 1740.

[47] The Sadler’s Wells anglers are mentioned in the _Field Spy_,
a poem of 1714. The New River remained open until 1861–62 when it was
covered in.

[48] A newspaper cutting in “Public Gardens” collection in Guildhall
Library, records the death on 2 February, 1786, of Mrs. Bennet, of
Merlin’s Cave, Spa Fields, who was the successor of her uncle, Mr. Hood.

[49] A view of the Merlin’s Cave at Richmond forms the frontispiece of
_Gent. Mag._ 1735; on the cave, _see_ Walford’s _Greater
London_, ii. 345, ff

[50] A square stone bearing the inscription given below was, about
1760, over an old gateway in the wall to the north of the Long Room,
and was still there in 1843. In 1850 it was to be seen in Coppice Row,
now Farringdon Road.

S T
THIS IS BAGNIGGE
HOUSE NEARE
THE PINDER A
WAKEFEILDE
1680.

The Pinder a Wakefielde (the modern representative of which stands near
the old site in Gray’s Inn Road) was a tavern; and some writers have
inferred from the above inscription that Bagnigge Wells itself was a
place of entertainment as early as 1680.

[51] Over one of the chimney-pieces of the room was the garter of the
order of St. George, in relief, and over another the bust of a woman in
Roman dress, popularly supposed to represent Nell Gwynne. This bust was
let into a circular cavity of the wall, bordered with festoons of fruit
and flowers moulded in delft earth and coloured after nature. Owing to
the number of visitors promenading in the Long Room to the hindrance of
the waiters, the room was, before 1797, divided into two, though we are
told that the “former elegance” remained.

[52] The organ and its organist (under Davis), Charley Griffith, are
shown in an engraving “The Bagnigge Organfist” (undated). “Published
for the benefit of decayed musicians.”

[53] _Picture of London_, 1802.

[54] “Bagnigge Wells,” a song in the _London Magazine_, June, 1759.

[55] Colman’s prologue to Garrick’s _Bon Ton_, 1775.

[56] This is made sufficiently clear in the _Sunday Ramble_ (1774,
&c.); in the poem cited in the next note, and in Trusler’s _London
Adviser_ (1786).

[57] _Bagnigge Wells_, an anonymous poem (1779).

[58] _The life of John Rann, otherwise Sixteen Strings Jack_,
reprinted London, 1884; C. Whibley in _The New Review_, 1896, p.
222; cp. also the print “The Road to Ruin.”

[59] Sale Catalogue, 1813. (Copy in Brit. Mus.)

[60] A few years before 1891, these figures were in the possession of
Dr. Lonsdale of Carlisle (Wheatley’s _London P. and P._).

[61] The temple (behind the Long Room) and the grotto to the north of
it, were, as formerly, in the garden east of the Fleet. The western
garden, previous to its curtailment, contained the rustic cottage
nearly opposite the grotto, and the pond with its swan and Cupid
fountain about the middle of the garden.

[62] For New Year’s day 1751, new fireworks in the Chinese manner were
announced to take place at the Sir John Oldcastle (Pinks, p. 738).
This was a special subscription entertainment. The regular open-air
amusements appear to have come to an end in 1746.

[63] The Well at Battle Bridge (_i.e._ St. Chad’s) is mentioned
with four other London Wells in the _Macaroni and Theatrical
Magazine_ for January 1773, p. 162. A Mr. Salter was part proprietor
of the Well for many years previous to 1798. His mind became deranged
and on 17 July, 1798, he was found drowned in a pond in the garden of
St. Chad’s (_The Courier_ for 18 July, 1798).

[64] Coull’s _St. Pancras_, p. 22.

[65] In the minutes of a Vestry Meeting in St. Giles’s parish, held in
1676, it is recorded that a meeting is appointed with the parishioners
in St. Andrew’s, Holborn, about the Bowling Green in Gray’s Inn Fields
and the houses near thereabouts built (F. Miller’s _St. Pancras_,
p. 77).

[66] Malcolm’s _Manners and Customs of London_ (1811), p. 209.

[67] Barras’s advertisement is quoted in Palmer’s _St. Pancras_,
p. 310.

[68] It was generally known as the Bowling Green House, but the sign of
the inn appears to have been the Three Tuns, for in a plan of the new
road from Paddington to Islington (_London Mag._ 1756), the place
is marked as the Three Tuns Ale House and the Three Tuns Bowling Green.

[69] Malcolm in _Gent. Mag._ 1813, pt. 2, pp. 427–429. The Bowling
Green House is marked in Horwood’s Plan C, 1799; in a map of 1806 in
Lambert’s _London_, vol. iv., and in Wallis’s plan of 1808.

[70] Walford, v. 304, cites a newspaper advertisement of September
1718, announcing that “there is a strange and wonderful fruit growing
at the Adam and Eve at Tottenham Court, called a Calabath, which is
five feet and a half round, where any person may see the same gratis.”

[71] Cunningham’s _Handbook of London_ (1850), “Tottenham Court
Road”; _see also_ Paxton’s _History of St. Giles’ Hospital and
Parish_ (cited in F. Miller’s _St. Pancras_, p. 161), where
similar fines for drinking at Tottenham Court are recorded for the year
1644.

[72] His first ascent was on 15 September, 1784. This was the first
ascent in England, but it may be noted that Mr. J. Tytler had made an
ascent from Edinburgh on 27 August, 1784.

[73] The _Morning Herald and Daily Advertiser_, Saturday, 14 May,
1785.

[74] See Horwood’s _Plan_, 1793.

[75] See Wallis’s _Plan_, 1808.

[76] Thus the grounds must at that time have covered the space now
occupied by Eden Street and Seaton (formerly Henry) Street.

[77] There may be some exaggeration in this description (based on
Wilkinson), for in the _Picture of London_, 1802, p. 370, the Adam
and Eve is enumerated among the tea-gardens frequented by the middle
classes, and is described as somewhat similar to the Jew’s Harp, with a
small organ in the room upstairs where tea, wine and punch are served.

[78] Walford, v. 305.

[79] Stow’s _Survey_, p. 7 (ed. Thoms).

[80] At a depth of four feet was a bottom of “lettice” work under which
the water was five feet deep.

[81] Watts’s building operations do not appear to have been completed
till about 1811 or later (cp. Hughson’s _London_, iv. (1811), p.
414).

[82] Peerless Pool is mentioned in _The Picture of London_, 1829
(p. 370), as one of the principal public baths of London. Cunningham,
_Handbook of London_, 1850, speaks of it as a then existing public
bath. Mr. Hyde Clark writing in _Notes and Queries_ (7th Series,
viii. 214, 215) for 14 September, 1889, says that “it continued to be
used as a bath until comparatively late years.” I am informed that
after the death of Joseph Watts, the Bath was carried on by his widow,
Mrs. Watts, and by the sons, Thomas Watts of the British Museum and his
brother. It seems to have been built over at some time between 1850 and
1860.

[83] The grounds originally extended on the north-east to a tavern
called The Fountain, which was frequented by tea-parties:--

And there they sit so pleasant and cool,
And see in and out the folks walk about,
And gentlemen angling in Peerless Pool.

(Lines in Hone, _loc. cit._). There is now a public house called
The Old Fountain at the east end of Baldwin Street. The Shepherd and
Shepherdess (_q.v._) was close by on the other side of the City
Road.

[84] Cp. Lewis’s _Islington_, p. 31, note 6, referring to August
1758.

[85] For the connexion of the Salvation Army with the Eagle, and for
some details as to the history of the Eagle tavern and gardens see
_The Times_ for 1882 (Palmer’s _Index_, under “Salvation
Army,” June to September). On the Eagle _see also_ Dickens,
_Sketches by Boz_ (Miss Evans and the Eagle); Hollingshead’s _My
Lifetime_, i. p. 25, ff.; Ritchie’s _Night-side of London_
(1858); Stuart and Park, _The Variety Stage_, p. 35, ff. &c.;
_Era Almanack_, 1869, p. 80; H. Barton Baker’s _The London
Stage_, ii. p. 254, ff.; and a view of the garden in Rogers’s
_Views of Pleasure Gardens of London_, p. 57.

[86] _The Post Man_, Oct. 3 to 6, 1702, has the advertisement “At
Milend the garden and house called _the Jews Spring Garden_ is to
be let. Enquire at Capt. Bendal’s at Milend” (_Notes and Queries_,
1st ser. ii. 463). Mr. Alexander Andrews (_ib._ 2nd ser. viii.
422) has shown that this Jews’ Spring Garden is in all probability to
be identified with the Spring Garden marked in a map of Stepney parish
of 1702.

[87] Rayner, Master of the Spring Garden at Stepney, died April 3,
1743, aged 70 (_London Daily Post_ for 6 April, 1743).

[88] _Low Life_ (1764), “Stepney Spring Gardens.”

[89] Dodsley’s _London_ (1761), s.v. “Stepney.” There are modern
streets known as Garden Street and Spring Garden Place, but these are
some distance _south_ of the Mile End Road, not far from St.
Dunstan’s, Stepney.

[90] See Crace, _Cat._, p. 616, No. 80.

[91] “The back entrance was from the fields, beyond which, north, was a
narrow winding passage, with garden palings on each side, leading into
High Street” (Smith’s _Book for a Rainy Day_, p. 39).

[92] Pulled down in 1791. Devonshire Mews was built on the site.

[93] These lines, often erroneously attributed to Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu, occur in Pope’s _The Basset-table, an Eclogue_. The
allusion in the second line is to Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham.

[94] Gough issued, 1738–9, silver tickets at 12_s._ each,
admitting two persons for the season. In 1740 the silver season-ticket,
admitting two, cost £1 1_s._ There are extant silver (or rather
base silver) season tickets of 1766 (Wilkinson, _Londina_, vol.
ii., last plate, No. 19) and of 1767 (Brit. Mus.). These later tickets,
admitting two, cost £1 11_s._ 6_d._, or two guineas. There
are copper tickets of 1770 (specimen in Brit. Mus.). In 1774 the ticket
for two cost two guineas.

[95] The use of the old spelling which occurs in all the advertisements
and contemporary notices must be conceded.

[96] J. T. Smith and several modern writers state that Trusler was
proprietor in 1751. It would appear, however, from the newspapers that
in 1754 John Sherratt was proprietor, and in May 1755 Mr. Beard was
stated to have “lately taken the Gardens.” Trusler was undoubtedly
manager from 1756–1763. He died before October 1766.

[97] Cp. _Vocal Melody_, Book iii. _A favourite collection of
songs and dialogues sung by Master Arne and Miss Faulkner at Marybone
Gardens, set by Mr. Arne._ Published 15 August, 1751, by J. Walsh,
Catherine Street, Strand.

[98] The name is variously spelt; usually Falkner.

[99] See Trusler’s _Memoirs_, p. 63, ff.; cp. _Dict. Nat.
Biog._, art. “Dunk, George Montagu, second Earl of Halifax,”
1716–1771.

[100] _The Servant Mistress, a burletta translated from the
Italian._ Price 6_d._, printed at Marybone Gardens.

[101] Hone’s _Year Book_, pp. 500–503.

[102] Trusler’s _Memoirs_, p. 57.

[103] Two men were executed 15 June, 1763, at Tyburn for robbing, in
Marybone Fields, the waiters belonging to Marybone Gardens.

[104] Indenture between Robert Long and Thomas Lowe, dated 30 August,
1763. The lease was for fourteen years. Trusler ceased to reside at the
Gardens in 1764 when he went to Boyle Street, Saville Row, and Miss
Trusler carried on business as a confectioner.

[105] The vocalists 1763–1767, besides Lowe, were--1763, Mrs. Vincent,
Mrs. Lampe, Miss Catley, Miss Hyat, Miss Smith, Miss Plenius (1763?),
and Mr. Squibb (Sig. Storace and Miss Catley had benefits); 1764, Mrs.
Vincent, Mrs. Lampe, Miss Moyse, Miss Hyat, Mr. Squibb; 1765, Mrs.
Vincent, Mrs. Collett, Miss Davis, Mrs. Taylor, Mr. Legg; 1766, Mr.
Taylor, Mr. Raworth, Mrs. Vincent, Miss Davis; 1767, Mrs. Gibbons.

[106] The vocalists in 1768 were Reynoldson, Taylor, Phillips, Miss
Davis, Miss Froud.

[107] Performers in 1769: Pinto, leader; Hook; Park, hautboy.
Vocalists, Mrs. Forbes, Miss Brent, Mr. Herryman, Mr. Reynoldson.

[108] Performers, 1770: Barthelemon (violin); Hook; Reinhold, Charles
Bannister; Mrs. Thompson; Mrs. Barthelemon; Mrs. Dorman. It is well
known that Thomas Chatterton the poet wrote a burletta called _The
Revenge_, which he sold to the management of Marybone Gardens for
five guineas. It was not published till 1795, when it was issued as
_The Revenge, a burletta acted at Marybone Gardens, MDCCLXX._ In
the Marybone Gardens’ advertisements of 1770 (and of later dates) no
burletta bearing the name of _The Revenge_ appears, and the writer
of the article “Chatterton” in _Dict. Nat. Biog._ thinks that the
burletta must have been performed at some time subsequent to 1770,
the year of Chatterton’s death. In _The Revenge_ as published,
the _dramatis personæ_ are Jupiter, Mr. Reinhold; Bacchus, Mr.
Bannister; Cupid, Master Cheney; Juno, Mrs. Thompson. Reinhold,
Bannister, and Mrs. Thompson sang at the Gardens 1770–1773, and Cheney
in 1770. I may add that a burletta called _The Madman_, performed
at the Gardens in 1770, has a plot quite distinct from that of _The
Revenge_.

[109] Performers, 1771: Hook; solo violin, Mons. Reeves; Charles
Bannister; Mrs. Thompson; Miss Esser; Miss Harper (afterwards Mrs. John
Bannister); Miss Thomas; and Miss Catley who sang “The Soldier tired
of War’s Alarms”; “Sweet Echo,” from _Comus_ (the echo “sung by a
young gentleman”), &c.

[110] According to J. T. Smith (_Rainy Day_, p. 52, n.), Torré
was a print-seller in partnership with Mr. Thane, and lived in Market
Lane, Haymarket. Other fireworkers at the Gardens at this period were
Clitherow (1772); Clanfield (1772 and 1773); Caillot of Ranelagh (1773,
1775, 1776).

[111] Performers, 1772: Hook, organ; Charles Bannister, Culver,
Reinhold, Mrs. Calvert, Mrs. Forbes, Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Cartwright and
Mrs. Thompson.

[112] On his own benefit night in July 1772, Torré gave a
representation of Hercules delivering Theseus from Hell, in addition to
the Forge of Vulcan.

[113] Performers, 1773: Charles Bannister; Reinhold; Phillips;
Barthelemon (leader); Miss Wilde; Mrs. Thompson; Mrs. Barthelemon. “Mr.
Dibdin, of Drury Lane Theatre,” was announced to sing in Barthelemon’s
“La Zingara, or the Gipsy” on Barthelemon’s benefit night.

[114] Also on 13 June, 1774.

[115] Performers, 1774: Fisher (violin), Dubellamy, Reinhold; Mons.
Rodell, “musician to the King of Portugal,” German flute; Miss
Wewitzer, Miss Trelawny, Miss Wilde.

[116] A large printed bill referring to this entertainment is in the
possession of Mr. H. A. Rogers, and is reproduced in his _Views of
Pleasure Gardens of London_, p. 30.

[117] _Nollekens_, i. 33, chap. ii.

[118] At a bazaar held in the Portman Rooms, Baker Street, in 1887
(Nov. 22–26), for the benefit of the charities of Marylebone Church,
an ingenious reproduction was attempted, under the direction of Mr.
Thomas Harris, the architect, of the latticed alcoves, lamp-hung trees,
&c., of the old Marybone Gardens (see _A Booke of ye olde Marybone
Gardens_, 1887 (sold at the bazaar); _Daily Telegraph_ for 23
November, 1887).

[119] An account of the robbery and murder in 1808 of Mr. William
Joachim in the Marylebone Fields mentions that he was on his way home
to Lisson Grove, after a visit to the Jew’s Harp Tavern to see the
skittle-playing (F. Miller’s _St. Pancras_, p. 238).

[120] Wheatley, _London Past and Present_, s.v. “Yorkshire
Stingo,” states on the authority of Cooke’s _Old London Bridge_,
p. 7, that a bridge designed by the celebrated Thomas Paine, being the
second cast-iron bridge ever constructed, was brought to London in
1790 and set up in the bowling-green of the Yorkshire Stingo; it was
afterwards taken back to Rotherham (where it had been made in 1789) and
broken up in 1791.

[121] _The Picture of London_, 1802, p. 370, mentions the
Yorkshire Stingo as a house many years celebrated for rustic sports on
May Day.

[122] Newspaper cuttings in W. Coll.; cp. Hollingshead’s _My
Lifetime_, i. 24, and _see also_ Stuart and Park, _The
Variety Stage_, p. 38, who mention Cave and Glindon as the comic
vocalists. The saloon, which was in the rear of the tavern, had a
small but capable orchestra directed by Love, afterwards leader at the
Princess’s Theatre under Charles Kean. Miss Tunstall of Vauxhall was at
one time a singer there.

[123] Pulled down about 1895.

[124] Woodward’s _Eccentric Excursions_, p. 18.

[125] Before 1702.

[126] _The Country Journal, or the Craftsman_, 7 March, 1729–30.
If an allusion in a pamphlet of 1735--_A seasonable examination
of the pleas and pretensions of ... Playhouses erected in defiance
of Royal Licence_ (London, printed for T. Cooper, 1735)--may be
relied on, Pancras Wells had about that time some kind of (unlicensed)
theatrical or “variety” entertainments resembling those of Sadler’s
Wells.

[127] According to Roffe (_St. Pancras_), Pancras Wells occupied
the south side of Church Hill from its base to its summit. Palmer
in his _St. Pancras_, published in 1870, says the Well “is now
enclosed in the garden of a private house, neglected and passed out of
mind.”

[128] It is shown in the bird’s-eye view of Pancras Wells of 1730. In
April 1731, James Dalton, a notorious footpad, robbed a linenpedlar
at night near the Adam and Eve after drinking with him at the tavern
(Pinks’s _Clerkenwell_, p. 549).

[129] _The Connoisseur_, 1754, No. 26.

[130] Five of these pier-glasses were stolen from the long room in 1778
(_London Evening Post_, 11–14 July, 1778).

[131] Advertisement of 1786 quoted in Clinch’s _Marylebone and St.
Pancras_, p. 157.

[132] There are advertisements of the Adam and Eve issued (at the end
of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth century?) by G.
Swinnerton, Junr. and Co., and by George Lambert (quoted in Walford,
vol. v. p. 338). The _Picture of London_, 1805, mentions the Adam
and Eve Tea-gardens, bowling-green, &c., but the conversion of the
gardens into the cemetery (authorised by Act of Parliament in 1803)
appears to have been already carried out in 1804.

[133] There is a mention of the inn in 1725: the Assembly Rooms were
certainly in existence in 1750, and perhaps at an earlier date. The
original sign of the inn appears to have been the Black Bull; see
_Notes and Queries_, 1st ser. viii. p. 293; W. Elliot’s _Some
Account of Kentish Town_ (1821), p. 65.

[134] The new or altered building contained the circular structure
shown in so many views of the place.

[135] The White Conduit meadow long continued in use as a cricket
ground. About 1784 and subsequently a club composed of gentlemen and
men of rank played its matches there. Among the players were the Duke
of Dorset, Lord Winchilsea, Lord Talbot, Col. Tarleton, and Thomas
Lord, who afterwards established the Marylebone Cricket Club.

[136] A poem by W. W[oty] printed in the _London Chronicle_, 1760,
vol. vii. p. 531.

[137] “White Conduit Loaves” was a London cry till about 1825.

[138] Forster’s _Life of Goldsmith_; cp. Goldsmith’s _Citizen of
the World_, Letter 122.

[139] “An Awkward Position,” a painting by A. Solomon, depicts the
situation. This was exhibited in the Royal Academy, and reproduced in
the _Illustrated London News_, 14 June, 1851.

[140] Ashton, _The Fleet_, p. 66.

[141] Bartholomew sold his interest in White Conduit House 25 March,
1795.

[142] About 1772 these performances were prohibited on Sundays.

[143] See a bill in the London Sections Collection, Guildhall Library,
and cp. Rogers’s _Views of Pleasure Gardens of London_, p. 55;
also G. Cruikshank’s Ivan Ivanitz Chabert, a print published 13 March,
1818. Hone’s _Every Day Book_, ii. p. 771, ff.

[144] Born 1769, died 1838.

[145] Till May of 1829 the old building was still standing.

[146] Hone’s _Every Day Book_, ii. p. 1204.

[147] Cp. the White Conduit concert described in the _Sketches by
Boz_ (“The Mistaken Milliner,” cap. viii.).

[148] The _Variety Stage_, by Stuart and Park, p. 8; 103.

[149] The place appears to be referred to as early as 1633 as “the
bowling place in Islington Fields” (Pinks, p. 710).

[150] Mrs. Dobney died at about the age of ninety on 15 March, 1760.

[151] Pinks states that Price had been starring at the Three Hats,
Islington, prior to his performance at Dobney’s in 1767 (cp. _Memoirs
of J. de Castro_ (1824), p. 29, who says that Price, Thomas Johnson,
and old Sampson exhibited at the Three Hats). This may have been the
case, though from 1758 to the spring of 1767, Thomas Johnson was
certainly the chief equestrian performer at the “Three Hats.”

[152] _London Evening Post_, August 1776. The Pantheon is the
tea-house in Exmouth Street.

[153] Tomlins in his _Perambulation of Islington_, published in
1858, but written in part about 1849, describes Prospect House as still
existing behind Winchester Place, though the bowling green (he says)
had been already covered by Winchester Place.

[154] Busby’s Folly is first mentioned in 1664 as a meeting-place of
the Society of Bull Feathers Hall, a fraternity of Odd Fellows. It is
supposed to have derived its name from Christopher Busby, landlord of
the White Lion Inn, Islington, in 1668.

[155] Prologue written and spoken by Mr. Gibson before the Orphan at
the New Theatre in the Haymarket on 31 May, 1762 (_Owen’s Weekly
Chronicle or Universal Journal_, June 5 to 12, 1762). The “wonder
of a Chelsea field” mentioned in this prologue is evidently Coan,
the dwarf (called “the jovial pigmy”), who attracted visitors to the
Dwarf’s Tavern in Chelsea Fields (see _infra_, Star and Garter,
Chelsea).

[156] According to Nelson and Lewis, the house facing to the south at
the northern termination of Colebrooke Row, was occupied about 1772
by the Rev. John Rule, who there kept a school, of some repute, for
gentlemen’s sons. The Castle Inn was the adjoining house and a house
next to the Castle was supposed by a doubtful tradition (cp. J. Knight,
art. “Cibber” in _Dict. Nat. Biog._) to be that in which Colley
Cibber died 12 December, 1757 (_see_ Nelson and Lewis). The old
house with a red-tiled roof, still existing, though divided into the
dwelling houses Nos. 56 and 57 Colebrooke Row, was apparently the
Castle Inn. The southern end of Colebrooke Row was built in the present
century. The Row also now extends a little farther to the north than
when Nelson wrote, so that Rule’s house is not now at the extreme
northern end of the Row.

[157] Sampson’s Riding School at Islington is mentioned in the
_Macaroni and Theatrical Magazine_ for January 1773, p. 162,
together with Astley’s and Hughes’s.

[158] They were probably in existence before this date, but are
not marked in the survey of Islington of 1735. An advertisement in
_The Morning Herald_ of 22 April, 1786, announces the sale
of the ground-rents of an Islington copyhold estate. This estate,
situated “in the Lower Street, opposite Cross Street, Islington, and
extending down to Frog Lane,” comprised a brick mansion and garden,
four dwelling-houses and gardens, and the Barley Mow Tea House and
Gardens. A plan of the estate was to be seen at Mr. Spurrier’s, the
auctioneer’s, Copthall Court, Throgmorton Street. The estate was
therefore between the present Essex Road, where it is touched by Cross
Street, and Popham Road.

[159] See the survey of roads in Islington parish in 1735 (Nelson’s
_Islington_, p. 20).

[160] Hone, _Every Day Book_, i. p. 860. Tomlins
(_Islington_, 204, 205) discovered that in 1753 it was occupied
by a currier, and supposes, therefore, that it was not a place of
entertainment till after that date. The meeting of the Highbury Society
there before 1740 seems however to bear out Hone’s assertion that
Copenhagen House was already an inn in the first half of the eighteenth
century.

[161] Map in Gibson’s edition of Camden’s _Britannia_, 1695.

[162] Hone, however, shows (_op. cit._ 860) that there is some
reason for supposing that Copenhagen House was not in existence until
after 1624.

[163] On the Highbury Society, see note _infra_ under Highbury
Barn.

[164] The graphic account in Hone (_op. cit._ 862) is worth
reading, though too long for quotation here.

[165] Hazlitt’s memoir is published in the _Examiner_ for February
17, 1819; most of it is reprinted in Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i.
865, ff.

[166] _Picture of London_, 1823 and 1829; Hone’s _Every Day
Book_, i. 859, 870.

[167] The hay-harvest is referred to in Nelson’s _Islington_,
1811, 74. A view of 1809, published by Cundee in the _Juvenile
Tourist_, 1810, shows cockney visitors playing in the hay.

[168] Plan in Lewis’s _Islington_.

[169] J. Hollingshead’s _My Lifetime_, i. 13. The cricket ground
was between Copenhagen House and Maiden Lane.

[170] Tomlins, _Perambulation of Islington_, p. 205.

[171] F. Miller, _St. Pancras_, 269.

[172] Highbury Barn, _i.e._, the grange or farm of Highbury
Manor, is mentioned by that name at an early period, and there are
extant various leases of it of the fifteenth century, granted by
the Prior and Convent of St. John of Jerusalem (_e.g._ “our
certain grange, situate upon the site of our manor of Highbury called
Highbury Barn”--see Tomlins’s _Perambulation of Islington_). The
name Highbury Barn is, therefore, much older than the date of the
incorporation of the large barn of Highbury Farm with the Highbury
Tavern premises.

[173] The site of the Prior’s house was occupied by a private residence
called Highbury House built in 1781 and immediately opposite the
Highbury Barn Tavern.

[174] The Highbury Society, formed by Protestant Dissenters to
commemorate the abandonment of the Schism Bill at the end of the reign
of Anne, met at first at Copenhagen House, but about 1740 assembled at
Highbury Barn. The members beguiled their pilgrimage from Moorfields
to Highbury by bowling a ball of ivory at objects in their path. This
society was dissolved about 1833.

[175] The younger Willoughby was certainly proprietor in 1792 and
later, and Lewis says he succeeded his father on the death of the
latter in December 1785. In May 1789 Highbury House (Nichols,
_Canonbury_, p. 31, note) opposite the Tavern was sold by auction,
as were also Highbury Tea House with gardens and bowling-green and
two good messuages adjoining, together with many fields in the
neighbourhood. This sale does not, however, necessarily imply any
change in the management of Highbury Barn, which may at that time have
been only rented by Willoughby from the owner of Highbury House and the
adjoining property.

[176] A few years previous to 1811 Willoughby cultivated at one end
of the gardens a small plantation of hops, and afterwards erected
a brewery on the premises. Highbury Barn was sometimes called
“Willoughby’s Tea Gardens” (_Picture of London_, 1802).

[177] Lysons, Nelson and Lewis all identify the moated house called
in the Survey of 1611 “The Devil’s House” or the “Lower House” with
the old Tallington or Tollington Manor House. In the survey of the
roads of Islington (Nelson’s _Islington_, p. 20), however, both
Tallington House and Devil’s House are separately marked, the two being
divided by Heame Lane, a lane running at right angles to Tallington
(Devil’s) Lane. This Tallington House must therefore have been an
eighteenth-century residence and not the old Manor House.

[178] Nelson (_Islington_), writing about 1811, says that about
thirty or forty years before his time (1776?) the landlord’s name was
Fawcett.

[179] This seems to be implied by Nelson (_Islington_, 1811), who
says that in his time the old “house had been fitted up in the modern
taste.”

[180] Lewis’s _Islington_, 1841, mentions the house as still
existing, and it is described as still standing in Tomlins’s
_Perambulation of Islington_, a work published in 1858, but in
part written nine years before the date of publication.

[181] Tea-drinking on Sunday at Little Hornsey is mentioned in the
_Connoisseur_, No. 68, May 15, 1755, and Hornsey Wood is referred
to in _The Idler_, No. 15, July 1758, in a way which implies
that its reputation as a place of Sunday recreation was already well
established. It appears from a passage in _Low Life_, referred to
in the next note, that in or before 1764 the sign of the tavern was The
Horns. The place was, however, usually known as Hornsey Wood House, and
in its latest days as Hornsey Wood Tavern.

[182] _Low Life_ (1764), p. 46.

[183] Mr. Rose, the “citizen at Vauxhall,” described in the
_Connoisseur_, May 1755, No. 68, used to grumble when his wife and
daughters went “to Little Hornsey to drink tea.”

[184] Newspaper cutting, 1753 (W. Coll.).

[185] See Boyne’s _Trade Tokens_, ed. Williamson, ii. p. 818. This
token is undated. The only dated token of Hampstead is one of 1670.

[186] The “Mirmillo” of Garth’s _Dispensary_.

[187] The modern public-house in Well Walk called the Wells Tavern,
though at one period, (before 1840) bearing the sign of the Green Man,
is probably on the site of the original tavern.

[188] Sion Chapel (the exact site of which is unknown) is of course
distinct from the Episcopal Chapel into which the Great Room was
converted in 1733.

[189] Baker’s comedy, _Hampstead Heath_, London, 1706.

[190] _The Country Journal, or the Craftsman_ for 16 October,
1736, has the notice:--“On Sunday between seven and eight in the
evening one Mr. Thomas Lane, a farrier of Hampstead, going home from
the Spaniards upon the Heath near the house called Mother Huff’s,” was
attacked and robbed and stripped naked by three men who jumped out of
the bushes.

[191] Lysons’s _Magna Britannia_, vol. iii. 1724, p. 44.

[192] This lady had made an earlier appearance at Cuper’s Gardens;
_see_ Welsted’s _Epistle on False Fame_.

[193] The spring at this time was adjacent to the Great Room, and was
in this position, _i.e._ on the opposite side to the existing
fountain, at any rate as late as 1806.

[194] In Bickham’s _Musical Entertainer_ (1733, &c.).

[195] _Evelina_ (1778), letter li.

[196] The house, No. 17 in Well Walk, which is just behind the existing
fountain, has a shallow well supposed to contain the source of the
original spring.

[197] MS. _History of Middlesex_, 1752, quoted by Park.

[198] _A Modern Sabbath_, 1797, p. 53; see also Woodward’s
_Eccentric Excursions_, 13.

[199] Dickens, _Pickwick Papers_, cap. xlvi.

[200] Cp. _The Idler_, No. 15, July 1758.

[201] Lysons, _Environs_, ii. 527.

[202] Evelyn (_Diary_, 2 June, 1676) describes the gardens as very
large and woody, but ill kept.

[203] _E.g._ “Galloway Races” in 1725 and 1729.

[204] _Ambulator_, 1774; Dodsley’s _London_, 1761.

[205] From the manuscript history of Middlesex quoted by Park
(_Hampstead_), the spring would appear to have been discovered
about 1742; the date on the reservoir containing the water was,
however, 1714, and Walford (v. 245) states that the spring was known
before 1600. But there is no evidence that Kilburn Wells was a place
of entertainment earlier than about 1742, though the Bell tavern dated
from about 1600.

[206] Richard Owen Cambridge, _Dialogue between a master and his
servant_ (1752). “Kupers” = Cuper’s Gardens, Lambeth.

[207] _Picture of London_, 1802 and 1829.

[208] Gibson, _View of the Gardens near London_, Dec. 1691.

[209] Lord Ranelagh’s house remained standing till 1805, and was used
in connexion with the Ranelagh entertainments.

[210] Robinson lived at Prospect Place adjoining the gardens. He died
on 3 March, 1777.

[211] Cp. Walpole’s letter to Mann of 26 May, 1742: “The building and
disposition of the gardens cost sixteen thousand pounds.”

[212] Walpole to Mann, 26 May, 1742.

[213] Walpole to Conway, 29 June, 1744.

[214] Walpole to Montagu, 26 May, 1748.

[215] Gray to Chute, July 1745 (Gray’s _Works_, ed. Gosse, ii.
125, ff.).

[216] _Works_, ed. Gosse, ii. 139.

[217] See especially Kearsley’s _Strangers’ Guide_ (1793?).

[218] This was the number about 1793.

[219] Burney says that the first organist was Keeble, who was succeeded
by Butler. Burney himself was organist in 1770.

[220] Boswell, _Life_, chap. xxvi. p. 236, ed. Croker.

[221] _Life_, 1777–1778, chap. lxi. p. 561, ed. Croker.

[222] In the early days, sometimes one shilling and two shillings,
including the breakfast and the morning concert. On special nights when
fireworks were displayed, the price was raised to three shillings or
more. Tickets costing from half a guinea to two guineas were issued for
the masquerades.

[223] Sometimes it was advertised as open “every evening.” People were
allowed to walk in the gardens and view the Rotunda during the day-time
for one shilling.

[224] “Harlequin in Ranelagh,” _London Magazine_, May 1774.

[225] Cp. _Gent. Mag._ 1764, p. 247.

[226] _Ranelagh House: a satire_, 1747.

[227] _London Magazine_, 1774.

[228] Other early vocalists were:--Mrs. Storer (1751); Miss Young
(1755); Miss Formantel (_Ten favourite songs sung by Miss Formantel
at Ranelagh_, music by Mr. Oswald, published July 1758).

[229] According to a statement of Burney’s (note in Croker’s ed. of
Boswell’s _Johnson_, p. 143, anno “1763”), the salt-box song was
sung by Beard accompanied on that instrument by Brent, the fencing
master, while Skeggs played on the broomstick as bassoon. Croker
assigns the composition, and apparently the first performance, of
the Ode to 1769, and states that the first edition (which he himself
had seen) of it bears the date 1749, a date which he considered to
be a misprint for 1769. But the date 1769 is, as some later writers
have seen, clearly erroneous, and the composition--and possibly the
_first_ performance at Ranelagh--must be assigned to 1759. The
published edition of the Ode, in the British Museum, is dated (May)
1763, and the Ode was undoubtedly performed at Ranelagh on 10 June
of that year (1763). (See _Annual Register_; _Lloyd’s Evening
Post_, 8–16 June, 1763.)

[230] Cp. _Six new English songs composed by Ferdinando Tenducci, and
to be sung by him at Ranelagh_. Sold by the author at his lodging in
the Great Piazza, Covent Garden, 1763 (W. Coll.).

Other performers at this period were:--1762: Champness, Hudson, Miss
Thomas, Miss Brent. 1763: Dearle, Miss Wright, Miss Brent. 1765 (?):
the elder Fawcett.

[231] _Gent. Mag._ 1767, p. 277.

[232] Walpole’s _Letters_, ed. Cunningham, ii. 150, ff. (Walpole
to Mann, 3 May, 1749).

[233] It is to be feared that this advertisement was an invention
of the editor’s, but it would have had little point for his readers
had it not been actually based on familiar incidents of the Ranelagh
masquerades.

[234] Mrs. Baddeley also sang there in 1772.

[235] An impetus to the fireworks seems to have been first given by
Angelo, father of Henry Angelo, who directed the displays in 1766. In
1771 the fireworkers were Clitherow and Caillot.

[236] The admission ticket for the Regatta Ball (Lake scene) was
prepared by Cipriani and Bartolozzi.

[237] _Evening Mail_, Feb. 15–17, 1792.

[238] Newspaper cutting [W. Coll.] assigned to 28 June (referring to 27
June), 1793. Mr. Vizetelly (_Chevalier D’Eon_, p. 322) states that
D’Eon fenced at Ranelagh in 1794. The managers of Ranelagh had given
the Chevalier, who was then in money difficulties, a benefit night in
1791 (24 June).

[239] Another great fête of this period (June 1802 or 1803?) was the
Ball given by the Spanish Ambassador.

[240] _The European Magazine_, October 1802, and several
newspapers of the time.

[241] The name was spelt Strumbels, Strombels and Strumbello. Davis
(_Knightsbridge_) calls it Stromboli House.

[242] O’Keefe’s _Recollections_.

[243] Davis’s _Knightsbridge_. Strumbelo is marked in the map of
1789 in Fores’s _New Guide_.

[244] The Star and Garter was at the end of Five Fields Row. In
Faulkner’s time (_Chelsea_, ii. p. 354), about 1829, the house, no
longer used as a tavern, was Mr. Homden’s Academy.

[245] On the Cherokee Chiefs, see Forster’s _Goldsmith_, bk. iii.
chap. vi. (ann. 1762).

[246] John Coan, “the unparalleled Norfolk Dwarf,” died there 16 March
1764 (_Daily Advertiser_, 17 March, 1764).

[247] The Dwarf’s Tavern according to Faulkner (_Chelsea_, ii.
354), was situated in Chelsea Fields “on the spot which was afterwards
called Spring Gardens, between Ebury Street and Belgrave Terrace,” and
which was subsequently (a few years before 1829) occupied by Ackerman’s
Waterproof Cloth Manufactory. This Spring Garden is the place usually
marked in the maps (_e.g._, Horwood’s Plan, B. 1795) as the _New
Spring Gardens, Chelsea_, and was a place of public entertainment,
as may be inferred from a newspaper advertisement of January 1792: “J.
Louis, of New Spring Gardens, Chelsea, having fitted up _likewise_
the above house (_i.e._ York Coffee House) in Norris Street,
Haymarket, for the winter, serves dinners and suppers there.”

This Spring Garden was distinct from the _Spring Gardens,
Knightsbridge_, a place frequented by Pepys, and perhaps identical
with the World’s End, Knightsbridge (see Davis’s _Knightsbridge_,
p. 149, ff.). The Knightsbridge Spring Gardens (which stood about
where William Street joins Lowndes Square) ceased to be a place of
entertainment before 1773, in which year the house belonging to them
was occupied by Dr. C. Kelly, who had his anatomical museum there.
Walford (v. 18) engraves from a drawing in the Crace Collection a view
of the “Spring Gardens,” which he assigns to the Knightsbridge Spring
Gardens, but it is possibly a representation of the _Chelsea_
Spring Gardens.

[248] O’Keefe’s _Recollections_, vol. i. p. 88: “1762. At Cromwell
House, Brompton, once the seat of Oliver, was also a tea-garden
concert.”

[249] The price appears on the (undated) pewter and brass admission
tickets to Cromwell’s Gardens. The British Museum has four specimens in
pewter, with Cromwell’s head; and one of the brass tickets.

[250] The Sunday Rambler visits the gardens between 7.30 and 9 p.m.

[251] I follow the _Modern Sabbath_, ed. 1797, in stating that
Cromwell’s Gardens were identical with the Florida Gardens. In the
second edition of the _Sunday Ramble_ (1776) Cromwell’s Gardens
at Brompton are described under that name, and in the 1797 ed. (_A
Modern Sabbath_) almost the same description is repeated, and it
is expressly stated that the name of the place had been changed from
Cromwell’s to Florida Gardens. On the other hand, Faulkner describes
the Florida Gardens as having been originally a nursery garden kept by
“Hyam” (he is called Hiem in the advertisements) and converted by him
(for the first time, it is implied) into a place of public amusement.
Faulkner after describing Hale House, mentions Cromwell’s Gardens as
a separate place of amusement earlier than the Florida Gardens. The
contemporary authority of the _Modern Sabbath_ seems, however,
preferable; especially as Faulkner does not appear to be able to state
the precise site of Cromwell’s Gardens. A further complication may
perhaps be thought to be introduced by the passage in O’Keefe (cited
in Note 1) where Cromwell’s Gardens are described as “at Cromwell
House” (_i.e._ Hale House). But the inhabitants of Cromwell House
from 1754 to 1794, or later, are well known to have been people of
substance, and the gardens proper of Hale House could hardly have been
employed as a tea-garden. The Florida Gardens (afterwards occupied by
Canning’s Gloucester Lodge) were (as stated above) adjacent to Hale
House, and may possibly at one time have belonged to its owners, and
have been let out partly as a tea-garden and partly as a nursery. The
writer of the _Modern Sabbath_ in fact remarks that Cromwell’s
Gardens is supposed to have taken its name from the ground being
formerly the patrimonial estate of the Protector who once had a
palace here upon the site of which is a handsome seat (_i.e._
Hale House). The change of name from Cromwell to Florida took place
(as appears from the various editions of a _Sunday Ramble_) at
some time between 1776 and 1797. I suggest that the change took place
about 1780, because Lysons (who, however, does not mention Cromwell’s
Gardens) says that the place was “much puffed in the daily papers
between the years 1780 and 1790 by the name of Florida Gardens.” In any
case they certainly were advertised by Hiem as the Florida Gardens as
early as 1781.

[252] The Florida Gardens are described as a place of entertainment in
the _Modern Sabbath_, published in 1797, but they were already
in the possession of the Duchess of Gloucester in September 1797.
Cp. a newspaper paragraph of 25 September, 1797, in “Public Gardens”
Collection in Guildhall Library: “Florida Gardens, at present in the
possession of the Duchess of Gloucester, were fitted up in an elegant
manner as a place of resort by the late Mr. Wilder [a successor of
Hiem?] but did not answer the purpose for which they were intended.”

[253] These checks in copper and lead resemble the tradesmen’s
halfpenny tokens of the end of the eighteenth century, and are usually
described as tokens: see descriptions in Sharpe’s _Catalogue_, p.
89; Atkins, p. 193. Miss Banks, in the MS. catalogue of her tokens (p.
210) now in the Department of Coins, British Museum, says respecting
the leaden check: “One shilling was paid on going in, and this ticket
given in exchange which would count for sixpence if the person chose
liquor.”

[254] Smith’s _Book for a Rainy Day_: the description strictly
applies to the year 1795; _A Modern Sabbath_, chap. ix. (1797),
implies that the place was more refined than Smith’s description would
suggest.

[255] Blewitt lived in Bermondsey Square, where he died in 1805.

[256] Cp. “X” in _The Musical Times_ for October 1, 1893, p. 588.

[257] It is possibly worth while to record the names of some of the
forgotten performers at Bermondsey Spa. _Circ._ 1785–1788 the
vocalists were Mr. Birkett, Mr. C. Blewitt, Mr. Burling (or Birling),
Mr. Harriss; Mrs. Thompson, Mrs. Byrn, Mrs. Piercy; Miss Stephenson,
Miss Pay, Miss Cemmitt; Mme. Floranze. In 1792 the leader of the band
was Mr. Peile, and the vocalists were Mr. Burton, Mr. Milward, Mrs.
Freeman, and Mrs. Peile.

Among the burlettas (1785–1788) were “The Quack Doctor,” “The Fop,” and
“The Auctioneer.”

[258] The fireworks in 1792 were by Rossi and Tessier, of Ranelagh.
On 25 September, 1792, “by particular desire, the Battle of the Fiery
Dragons, and the line comet to come from the Rock of Gibraltar and
cause the Dragons to engage.”

[259] This entertainment was probably first introduced in 1786, in
which year (2 September) the _Public Advertiser_ announces “the
representation of the storming of a fort which with the fortifications
cover (_sic_) 3 acres of ground, the rock being fifty feet high
and 200 feet long.” From about 1789 to 1792 it was advertised as a
representation of the Siege of Gibraltar. The writer of _A Modern
Sabbath_ (1797) gives further details. “On the north-east side
of the gardens is a very fine lawn consisting of about three acres,
and in a field parted from this lawn by a sunk fence is a building
with turrets, resembling a fortress or castle.” At each side of this
fortress at unequal distances were two buildings, from which on public
nights bombshells, &c., were thrown. The fire was returned and the
whole exhibited the “picturesque prospect of a siege.”

[260] _Gent. Mag._ 1800, pt. i. p. 284. Keyse’s house was a large
wooden-fronted building, consisting of square divisions in imitation of
scantlings of stone (J. T. Smith). The entrance to the Gardens was next
to the house, beneath a semi-circular awning.

[261] Hughson’s _London_, vol. v. (1808), p. 60. _The Picture of
London_ for 1802 mentions in the “Almanack of Pleasures” under July
17, “A silver cup run for at Spa Gardens, Bermondsey, by gentlemen’s
ponies.”

[262] Blanchard in _Era Almanack_, 1870, p. 18 (followed by
Walford). Brayley and Mantell (_Surrey_, iii. 200, 201) say the
Gardens were closed about 1805. Lambert in his _London_ (iv. 140)
published in 1806, speaks of the Spa as still open, but the passage may
have been written a year or more before the date of publication.

[263] _Picture of London_, eds. 1802, 1829; Tallis’s
_Illustrated London_, ed. Gaspey.

[264] In the _Era Almanack_, 1871, p. 6, it is stated that the
gardens “disappeared in 1869.” Walford, vi. 138, says they ceased to
exist in 1881.

[265] “The principal site of Finch’s Grotto Gardens appears to have
been a triangular piece of ground forming the western side of St.
George’s Street, Southwark, and bounded on the south by the road called
Dirty Lane and on the north by a vinegar yard in Lombard Street, and
the extremity of St. Saviour’s Parish.” Wilkinson, _Londina_. A
way from Falcon Stairs through Bandy Leg Walk (now Guildford Street)
led directly to the place, and Williams, Finch’s successor, made an
entrance from St. George’s Fields. Those who came by water landed at
Mason’s Stairs.

[266] Goldsmith’s _She Stoops to Conquer_, act. ii.

[267] The Dukes of York and Gloucester, brothers of George III., are,
however, said to have visited the gardens many times.

[268] List of performers under Finch and Williams:--Messrs. Oldfield
(or Offield?, 1765), Lauder, Dearle, Baker, Barnshaw of Covent Garden
Theatre, Moore, Tom Lowe, Kear (sang at Marylebone 1754, and at
Sadler’s Wells in 1771 and later), Nepecker, Clarke, Thomas and A.
Smith from the Richmond Theatre, Weston from Drury Lane (1772), Aitken
and Murphin, Master Adams, Master Suett (in 1771, from Ranelagh,
supposed to be Dick Suett the actor), Master Green, and Master Lyon.
The female singers were Mrs. Forbes, Reed, Smith, Taylor, Clark, and
Dorman, and Misses Garvey, Thomas (in August 1765), Carli, Moyse,
Snow, Dowson (sang at Sadler’s Wells 1775), Cantrell, Marshall, and
Oakes. The instrumentalists included Cocklin and Smart, _violins_;
Hudson, _organ_; Palmer, _flute_.

[269] “Linco’s Travels” was also performed at the Patagonian Theatre,
Exeter Change. Humphreys’s _Memoirs of Decastro_, 237.

[270] A programme of a benefit night for 12 September, 1771 (under
Williams), may be inserted as a specimen:--

“Act i.--An Overture. A favourite song from the opera of Pharnaces:
‘Swift wing’d vengeance nerves my arm,’ by Mr. A. Smith, set by Mr.
Bates. A favourite Scotch air by Miss Dowson, words and music by Mr.
A. Smith. An overture by Abel. The Act to conclude with a celebrated
song from Anacreon, set by Mr. Starling [Sterling?] Goodwin, by Mr. A.
Smith. Act ii.--‘The soldier tired of war’s alarm,’ by Miss Dowson.
A new song, ‘O what a charming thing is a battle,’ by Mr. Barnshaw.
An overture in Otho, Handel. ‘Sweet Echo,’ by a young gentleman from
Italy. Trumpet Concerto by Master Green, pupil of Mr. Jones. The
celebrated song of the ‘British Wives,’ by Mr. A. Smith. A new song by
Miss Dowson. Concerto on the violin by Mr. Smart. The Act to conclude
with ‘Russel’s triumph,’ by Mr. A. Smith, by particular desire. To
which will be added an entertainment called ‘The Gamester,’ to be sung
by Mr. A. Smith, Mr. Barnshaw, Miss Dowson, and Mrs. Dorman, with a
hornpipe in the character of a sailor, by Mr. Rawlins from the Opera
House in the Haymarket. At the end of the hornpipe Mr. A. Smith will
sing the celebrated song of ‘The storm or the danger of the sea,’ in
character. After which will be displayed a Grand Transparent Painting.”

[271] In 1827 this stone was used as a step in the yard of the house
of a Mrs. Stevens near the site of the Gardens, the verses being then
almost illegible (Wilkinson).

[272] Nichols’s _Lambeth_, 1786 (in vol. ii. of _Bibl. Topog.
Brit._ p. 77, ff.); Michaelis’s _Ancient Marbles in Great
Britain_, 35–37.

[273] Prologue to Mrs. Centlivre’s _Busybody_.

[274] Chappell (_Popular Music in the Olden Time_, ii. 727, 728)
gives words and music.

[275] The gardens were closed on the Sundays of 1752.

[276] _Gent. Mag._ 1740, 525.

[277] Walpole’s _Letters_, ed. Cunningham, ii. 32, 24 June, 1746.
Bad company was not unknown in the earlier days of the gardens: see
Welsted’s _Epistle on False Fame_, 1732:--

“For Cupid’s Bowers she hires the willing scull ...
While here a ’prentice, there a captain bites.”

[278] _The Complete Letter-writer_, Edinburgh, 1773, quoted in
_Notes and Queries_, 7th ser. ii. 469.

[279] Twelve songs by Lewis Granom, as sung at Cuper’s Gardens by Miss
Maria Bennett, published London, 24 November, 1752.

[280] The fireworks at Cuper’s in 1751 are described in the _London
Daily Advertiser_ for 10 September, 1751.

[281] ‘The Inspector,’ No. 448, in the _London Daily Advertiser_
for 6 August, 1752. The details that follow are derived from the same
journal for 4 August, 1752, where they are related of “one of the
public gardens on the other side of the water.” Possibly Vauxhall is
intended, but if not literally true of Cuper’s Gardens, they seem
sufficiently applicable to them.

[282] Boswell, _Life of Johnson_, ed. Croker, chap. xli. p. 366.

[283] _Nollekens_, ii. 201.

[284] The Folly was occasionally moored off the Bank side (Wheatley,
_London Past and Present_, “The Folly”).

[285] _Amusements Serious and Comical_, part ii. “The Thames.”

[286] Pepys (_Diary_, 13 April, 1668) jots down in his daily
expenditure a shilling spent “in the Folly.” From the circumstance that
he makes no special comment on the place it may perhaps be inferred
that he was already acquainted with it from previous visits.

[287] Tom D’Urfey, _A Touch of the Times_, 1719.

[288] Walford, iii. 290, 291.

[289] Walford’s statement (_Old and New London_, vi. 388) that
they adjoined Cuper’s Gardens is not quite accurate. Four strips of
land belonging to four different proprietors are marked in the map in
Strype’s _Stow_ (1720) as lying between the Belvedere Gardens and
Cuper’s Gardens.

[290] The proprietor, William Hagley, issued a halfpenny token “at ye
Restoration in St. George’s Feilds.” Boyne’s _Trade Tokens of the
Seventeenth Century_, ed. Williamson, p. 1036, No. 357.

[291] Advertisement in the _Country Journal or the Craftsman_, 31
March, 1733, where the celebrated “Purging Spring” and the Chalybeate
Spring “lately discovered” are mentioned, “at Mr. Lewis’s, commonly
called the Restauration Gardens in St. George’s Fields.”

[292] The water was also to be obtained at a corkcutter’s under Exeter
Change in the Strand.

[293] Loudon’s _Arboretum et frut. Brit._ vol. i. p. 75. Nichols,
_Parish of Lambeth_, p. 84, says “about the year 1777.”

[294] _Notes and Queries_, 7th series, xi. p. 87 (communication
from Lieut.-Col. Capel Coape).

[295] This appears from the evidence brought forward in the prosecution
of Grist; see _The Whitehall Evening Post_ for May 7 to May 10,
1796 (referring to May 7).

[296] Newspapers cited by E. M. Borrajo in _Notes and Queries_,
7th ser. xi. 138.

[297] “The English translator of Lamotte’s _Life_ says she fell
from the leads of her house, nigh the Temple of Flora, endeavouring to
escape seizure for debt, and was taken up so much hurt that she died in
consequence. Another report runs that she was flung out of window....
Where the Temple of Flora was, or is, one knows not” (Carlyle,
_Diamond Necklace_, note near end). The Temple of Flora alluded to
was certainly in London, and there can be no reasonable doubt that the
popular resort now described is the place in question.

[298] At the period when the gardens were open “The Asylum”
(_i.e._ Female Orphan Asylum) stood where Christ Church now stands.

[299] Cp. Wilkinson, _Londina Illust._ vol. ii. “Pantheon Theatre.”

[300] Allen (_History of Lambeth_, 319) states that the Apollo
Gardens were suppressed about 1791, but this is certainly erroneous,
as the gardens were frequently advertised in 1792. Kearsley’s
_Strangers’ Guide to London_ (1793?) mentions the place as
“the resort of company in the evenings,” and says that music was
occasionally performed there. The Temple of Apollo was described about
1796–7 in _A Modern Sabbath_ as already becoming ruinous, and it
is there stated that Claggett, the proprietor, had become bankrupt. A
newspaper paragraph of December 1796 refers to a field opposite the
Asylum, close by “the ditch that encircles that place of late infamous
resort, the Apollo Gardens.”

[301] This was probably the orchestra that seems to have stood in the
centre of the gardens and not that in the concert room.

[302] Cp. a token of 1651 (“At the Dogg and Ducke in Southwarke,”
type, Spaniel with Duck in mouth) in Boyne’s _Trade Tokens_, ed.
Williamson, p. 1022, there assigned to The Dog and Duck in Deadman’s
Place, Southwark, by Mr. Philip Norman, who, however, suggests the
possibility of its belonging to the Dog and Duck in St. George’s
Fields. A specimen is in the British Museum.

[303] The ponds are marked in Rocque’s Map, _circ._ 1745. The
duck-hunting probably took place at an early period, not later than
_circ._ 1750.

[304] Newspaper cutting of 1731 (W. Coll.): see also _The Country
Journal or the Craftsman_ for 12 Aug. 1732; also 26 Aug. 1732.

[305] Johnson to Mrs. Thrale, 10 July, 1771, Letter viii. in Johnson’s
_Works_ (ed. Murphy), xii. 338.

[306] A specimen in British Museum (from Miss Banks’s Coll.). Silver,
size 1·25 inch; _Obverse_: _Lazarius Riverius.--Non omnibus
dormio.--Miseris succurrere disco_. Bearded head of Rivière, to
left; beneath head, the number “18” incised. _Reverse_: _The
original Spaw in St. George’s Fields so memorable in the Plague,
1665.--For the proprieters_ (sic) _T. Townshend Alchemist to
his Majesty, 1760._ Another specimen described in C. A. Rudolph’s
_Numismata_ (relating to medical men), 1862, p. 45, has the words
“Robert Baker, Esq., Twickenham,” evidently the subscriber’s name,
engraved on the edge.

[307] The water continued to be advertised in newspapers of 1771–1779.
Hedger afterwards put in his nephew Mills (or Miles) to conduct the
house which is said to have yielded Hedger £1,000 a year, but evidently
himself remained the moving spirit.

[308] On the “Maid of the Oaks,” see Baker’s _Biog. Dram._

[309] The Dog and Duck may have been more respectably conducted for a
time. On 28 May, 1792, a charity dinner of the Parish of St. Thomas,
Southwark, was held there (engraved invitation ticket in W. Coll.).

[310] The Dog and Duck and the Apollo Gardens were for a time
within the Rules of the King’s Bench Debtors’ Prison (De Castro’s
_Memoirs_, pp. 126, 134).

[311] In De Castro’s _Memoirs_ (1824) it is stated that he died
“about two years ago,” which indicates the year 1822, or possibly the
year 1810 (for part of the _Memoirs_ were apparently written
_circ._ 1812) as the date of his death. He was certainly alive,
however, during part of the year 1810.

[312] Lambeth Wells are marked in the map of 1755 in Stow’s
_Survey_.

[313] They were of smaller extent than the Cumberland Gardens, their
river-side neighbour situated a little further south.

[314] One account calls him Nathan Hart.

[315] “Riley’s Gardens, Vauxhall,” mentioned in Trusler’s _London
Adviser_, 1786, are doubtless identical with Reilly’s Cumberland
Gardens.

[316] In the _Picture of London_ for 1829 the Cumberland Gardens
are named in the list of places of London amusement, but it is probable
that this entry has been inadvertently copied from a previous edition
(1823) of the work. Cp. Allen, _Lambeth_ (1827), p. 379.

[317] Timbs (_Curiosities of London_, 1868, p. 18) says that
Price’s Candle Manufactory occupied the site, but in the Post Office
Directory map of 1858 the “Phœnix Gas Works” are marked immediately
south of Vauxhall Bridge and the Candle Works still further south,
_i.e._, beyond the Vauxhall Creek which formed the southern
boundary of the gardens.

[318] In the advertisements the name Vauxhall Gardens first appears in
1786, but many years before that date the place was often popularly
known as Vauxhall Gardens.

[319] The place was at first generally called The New Spring Garden.
Cunningham (_Handbook of London_, s.v. “Vauxhall Gardens”)
and other modern writers suppose that it was called _New_ to
distinguish it from the old Spring Garden at Charing Cross, and this
view seems to receive some countenance from a passage in Evelyn’s
_Fumifugium_, 1661, quoted by Cunningham. It must be borne in
mind, however, that there existed at Vauxhall shortly after the
Restoration, _two_ Spring Gardens which seem to have been
distinguished as the Old and New. This appears very distinctly from
the following passage in Pepys, under date 29 May, 1662:--“Thence home
and with my wife and the two maids and the boy took the boat, and to
Foxhall, where I had not been a great while. To the Old Spring Garden,
and there walked long, and the wenches gathered pinks. Here we staid,
and seeing that we could not have anything to eate but very dear, and
with long stay, we went forth again without any notice taken of us, and
so we might have done if we had had anything. Thence to the new one,
where I never was before, which much exceeds the other; and here we
also walked, and the boy crept through the hedge and gathered abundance
of roses, and after a long walk, passed out of doors as we did in the
other place.”

Somewhat earlier (2 July, 1661), Evelyn in his _Diary_ has the
entry “I went to see the New Spring Garden at Lambeth, a pretty
contrived plantation.” This probably, if not quite certainly (for
compare the mention in Evelyn’s _Fumifugium_ noticed above),
refers to Vauxhall Gardens. Monconys, the French traveller (1663),
briefly describes “Les Jardins du Printemps” at Lambeth, but it can
hardly be made out whether he is alluding to the garden called by
Pepys the Old Spring Garden at Vauxhall or to the New Spring Garden,
_i.e._, Vauxhall Gardens (cp. Tanswell’s _Lambeth_, p. 181).
The supposed site of the Old Spring Garden at Vauxhall (or Lambeth) is
indicated in a map in Manning and Bray’s _Surrey_, iii. p. 526
(cp. Walford, vi. 340). The statement of Aubrey and Sir John Hawkins,
usually accepted by modern writers, that Sir Samuel Morland occupied in
1675 a house on the site of Vauxhall Gardens, is evidently erroneous
(cp. _Vauxhall Papers_, No. 4, p. 28).

[320] _Swift to Stella_, 17 May, 1711.

[321] _The Spectator_, 20 May, 1712, No. 383. As notices of the
Spring Garden are rare at this period, the following advertisement may
be worth quoting:--“Lost in Fox Hall, Spring Garden, on the 29th past
a little Spaniel Dog, Liver Coloured and white long Ears, a Peak down
his Forehead, a small Spot on each knee” (_The Postman_, May 3–6,
1712). The pleasant walks of the Spring Garden are referred to in 1714
in Thoresby’s _Diary_, ii. 215.

[322] _A New Guide to London_ (1726). Guildhall Library, London.

[323] Lockman in his _Sketch of the Spring Gardens_ (1753?)
praises Jonathan Tyers for having reformed the morals of the Spring
Garden when he became proprietor in 1728.

[324] Several of the Vauxhall season tickets were designed for Tyers
by Hogarth. They are engraved in Nichols’s _Lambeth_, pl. xv.
p. 100, and in Wilkinson’s _Londina lllustrata_. A good though
not complete collection of Vauxhall tickets is in the British Museum,
including the series of silver tickets brought together by Mr. Edward
Hawkins. Tyers presented Hogarth as a return for his services with a
gold ticket, inscribed _in perpetuam beneficii memoriam_, which
was a free pass to the gardens for ever. Mrs. Hogarth had it after her
husband’s death, and in 1856 it was in the possession of Mr. F. Gye who
bought it for £20 (cp. Nightingale in _The Numismatic Chronicle_,
vol. xviii (1856), p. 97). In 1737 the season tickets admitting two
persons cost one guinea; in 1742 they were twenty-five shillings; in
1748, two guineas.

[325] In honour of Frederick, Tyers constructed the “Prince’s Pavilion”
at the western end of the Gardens facing the orchestra.

[326] This description is adapted from the _Scots Magazine_ for
July 1739.

[327] The lamps about the middle of the eighteenth century were about
1,000–1,500 in number; they afterwards greatly exceeded this total.

[328] Smollett’s _Humphry Clinker_.

[329] Goldsmith’s _Citizen of the World_, Letter lxxi.

[330] The cascade was varied in the course of years. In 1783 the
background was a mountain view with palm trees.

[331] _The Connoisseur_, 15 May, 1755.

[332] From _A description of Vauxhall Gardens_, London, S. Hooper,
1762.

[333] Further details as to the form of the Gardens may be seen in
the guides of Lockman and “Hooper.” Mr. Austin Dobson (_Eighteenth
Century Vignettes_, 1st series) gives the best modern account of the
Vauxhall geography.

[334] From about 1827 the entrance chiefly used by the public was the
“coach-entrance” at the corner of Kennington Lane.

[335] This has been attributed to Roubillac, but Mr. Dobson thinks
that it was probably by Henry Cheere who made such leaden statues for
gardens. The statue was cleared in 1779 of the bushes that had grown
round it, and it was still in the gardens in 1817.

[336] In 1818 it was removed to the house of Dr. Jonathan Tyers Barrett
in Duke Street, Westminster; it was described lately (1894) as being in
the possession of Mr. Alfred Littleton.

[337] On Lowe, see _supra_, p. 50, p. 101 f., and p. 243.

[338] As to the introduction of the covered walk see _infra_, § 4.

[339] Trusler’s _London Adviser_, p. 163.

[340] _Notes and Queries_, 6th ser. ix. (1884), p. 208.

[341] _Evelina_, Letter xlvi. Cp. _The Macaroni and Theatrical
Magazine_ for September 1773, p. 529, which gives a plate showing
“the Macaroney Beaus and Bells in an Uproar, or the last Evening at
Vauxhall Gardens” (W. Coll.).

[342] _The Gazeteer and New Daily Advertiser_, 29 June, 1772.

[343] _The Vauxhall Affray, or the Macaronies defeated_, London,
1773; _Westminster Magazine_ for September 1773, p. 558; _The
Macaroni and Theatrical Magazine_ for August 1773, where there is a
copper-plate showing the parson fighting the footman (W. Coll.).

[344] _British Magazine_, 6 August, 1782.

[345] _Westminster Magazine_, May 1775.

[346] _Middlesex Journal_, July 23–25, 1775.

[347] On the gala nights the charge was three shillings.

[348] A burlesque account in the _Bon Ton Magazine_, June 1791,
with plate (W. Coll.).

[349] Her husband, Mr. Mountain, was leader at Vauxhall from 1792.

[350] On Mrs. Bland, see _supra_, p. 137 (White Conduit House).

[351] Miss Tunstall, another singer, was in repute at the gardens about
1820.

[352] _Sketches from St. George’s Fields_ (1821), 2nd ser. p. 216.

[353] In 1806 the opening of the gardens on Saturdays was discontinued
on account of the disorderly persons staying on late into Sunday
morning. From about this time the gardens were for a long period
usually open on three days of the week only.

[354] Already in 1769 an awning or other covering was placed over
one of the walks, and “covered walks” are afterwards alluded to. The
permanent colonnade was not erected till 1810.

[355] Some accounts say £28,000.

[356] Admission, three shillings and sixpence.

[357] This Prince’s Gallery was burnt down in 1800.

[358] Among the curious characters of Vauxhall Gardens must be noticed
a youth named Joseph Leeming, who called himself “the Aeriel” and “the
Paragon of Perfection,” and offered himself for inspection to artists
and surgeons as a model of bodily perfection. On 2 July, 1825, and on
subsequent occasions he mingled with the other visitors at Vauxhall
and created excitement by his extraordinary Spanish costume and by
distributing three or four hundred “Challenges” to the people in front
of the orchestra. One of these curious challenges is in my collection.
It is a small card printed with the words “The Aeriel (_sic_)
challenges the whole world to find a man that can in any way compete
with him as such. No.--.” (cp. Hone’s _Every Day Book_, i. p.
1456, ff.).

[359] An earlier balloon ascent from Vauxhall Gardens by Garnerin in
1802 may be noted.

[360] A detailed account of the voyage is given in Monck Mason’s
_Aeronautica_, London, 1838.

[361] The publication came to an end on 23 August, 1841. It consisted
of sixteen parts, sixpence each. A set of these is in my collection.
Mr. H. A. Rogers, of Stroud Green, has recently undertaken an
interesting facsimile reprint of this scarce little journal.

[362] This part of Tyers Street was formerly called Brunel Street.

[363] _Punch_ for 21 August, 1869, “The Lament of the Colonnade.”

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling
errors have been corrected silently.

2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have
been retained as in the original.

3. Superscripts are represented using the caret character, e.g. D^r. or
X^{xx}.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.

5. Bold print is shown as =xxx=.

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