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

A

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

B

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

C

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

D

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

E

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

F

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

G

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

H

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

I

Iliff, Mrs., 269

Incledon, Charles, 216, 310

Ireland, Mr., 280

Isaacs, Miss Rebecca, 165

Islington Spa, 15–24

J

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

K

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

L

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

M

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

N

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

O

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

P

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

Q

Queen’s Head and Artichoke, 111, 112

R

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

S

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

T

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

V

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

W

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

Y

Yates, Mr., 35

Yeates, Mr., 35, 36

York Buildings Music Meeting, 279

Yorkshire Stingo, The, 115–116

Young, Miss, 209

Z

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_,