CHAPTER II.

“The flow'ry _May_, who from her green lap throws

The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.”

'Tis Flora's holiday, and in ancient times the goddess kept it with joyous festivity. Ah! those ancient times, they are food for melancholy. Yet may melancholy be made to “discourse most eloquent music,”--

“O why was England 'merrie' called, I pray you tell

me why?--

Because Old England merry was in merry times gone by!

She knew no dearth of honest mirth to cheer both son

and sire,

But kept it up o'er wassail cup around the Christmas

fire.

When fields were dight with blossoms white, and leaves

of lively green,

The May-pole rear'd its flow'ry head, and dancing round

were seen

A youthful band, join'd hand in hand, with shoon and

kirtle trim,

And softly rose the melody of Flora's morning hymn.

Her garlands, too, of varied hue the merry milkmaid

wove,

And Jack the Piper caprioled within his dancing grove;

Will, Friar Tuck, and Little John, with Robin Hood

their king,

Bold foresters! blythe choristers! made vale and moun

tain ring.

On every spray blooms lovely May, and balmy zephyrs

breathe--

Ethereal splendour all above! and beauty all beneath!

The cuckoo's song the woods among sounds sweetly as of

old;

As bright and warm the sunbeams shine,--and why

should hearts grow cold?” *

* This ballad has been set to very beautiful music by Mr. N. I. Sporle. It is published by T. E. Purday, 50, St. Paul's Church Yard.

“A sad theme to a merry tune! But had not May _another_ holiday maker? when the compassionate Mrs. Montague walked forth from her hall and bower to greet with a smile of welcome her grotesque visitor, the poor little sweep.”

Thy hand, Eugenio, for those gentle words! _Elia_ would have taken thee to his heart. Be the turf that lies lightly on his breast as verdant as the bank whereon we sit. On a cold, dark, wintry morning, he had too often been disturbed out of a peaceful slumber by his shrill, mournful cry; and contrasting his own warm bed of down with the hard pallet from which the sooty little chorister had been driven at that untimely hour, he vented his generous indignation; and when a heart so tender as _Elia's_ could feel indignation, bitter must have been the provocation and the crime! But the sweep, with his brilliant white teeth, and Sunday washed face, is for the most part a cheerful, healthy-looking being. Not so the squalid, decrepit _factory lad_, broken-spirited, overworked, and half-starved! The little sweep, in process of time, may become a master “chum-mie,” and have (without being obliged to sweep it,) a chimney of his own: but the factory lad sees no prospect of ever emerging from his heart-sickening toil and hopeless dependance; he feels the curse of Cain press heavily upon him. The little sweep has his merry May-day, with its jigs, rough music, gingling money-box, gilt-paper cocked-hat, and gay patchwork paraphernalia. All days are alike to the factory lad,--“E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to him.” _His_ rest will be the Sabbath of the tomb!

Nothing is better calculated to brace the nerves and diffuse a healthful glow over body and mind than outdoor recreations. What is _ennui?_ Fogs, and over-feeding, content grown plethoric, the lethargy of superabundance, the want of some rational pursuit, and the indisposition to seek one. What its cure?

“'Tis health, 'tis air, 'tis exercise--

Fling but a stone, the giant dies!”

The money-grub, pent up in a close city, eating the bread of carefulness, and with the fear of the shop always before his eyes, is not industrious. He is the droning, horse-in-a-mill creature of habit,--like a certain old lady of our acquaintance, who every morning was the first up in the house, and good-for-nothing afterwards. A century ago the advantages of early rising to the citizen were far more numerous than at present. A brisk walk of ten minutes brought him into the fields from almost any part of the town; and after luxuriating three or four miles amidst clover, sorrel, buttercups, aye, and corn to boot! the fresh breeze of morn, the fragrance of the flowers, and the pleasant prospect, would inspire happy thoughts: and, as nothing better sharpens the appetite than these delightful companions, what was wanting but a substantial breakfast to prepare him for the business of the day? For this certain frugal houses of entertainment were established in the rural outskirts of the Metropolis, *

* “This is to give notice to all Ladies and Gentlemen, at Spencer's original Breakfasting-Hut, between Sir Hugh Middleton's Head and St. John Street Road, by the New River side, fronting Sadler's Wells, may be had every morning, except Sundays, fine tea, sugar, bread, butter, and milk, at four-penee per head; coffee at threepence a dish. And in the afternoon, tea, sugar and milk, at threepence per head, with good attendance. Coaches may come up to the farthest gar- den-door next to the bridge in St. John Street Road, near Sadler's Wells back gate.--Note. Ladies, &c. are desired to take notice that there is another person set up in opposition to me, the next door, which is a brick-house, and faces the little gate by the Sir Hugh Middleton's, and therefore mistaken for mine; but mine is the _little boarded place_ by the river side, and my backdoor faces the same as usual; for

I am not dead, I am not gone, Nor liquors do I sell; But, as at first, I still go on, Ladies, to use you well. No passage to my hut I have, The river runs before; Therefore your care I humbly crave, Pray don't mistake my door. “Yours to serve, Daily Advertiser, May 6, 1745. “S. Spencer.”

where every morning, “except Sundays, fine tea, sugar, bread, butter, and milk,” might be had at fourpence per head, and coffee “at three halfpence a dish.'” And as a walk in summer was an excellent recruit to the spirits after reasonable toil, the friendly hand that lifted the latch in the morning repeated the kind office at evening tide, and spread before him those refreshing elements that “cheer, but not inebriate;” with the harmless addition of music and dancing. Ale, wine, and punch, were subsequently included in the bill of fare, and dramatic representations. But of latter years the town has walked into the country, and the citizen can just espy at a considerable distance a patch of flowery turf, and a green hill, when his leisure and strength are exhausted, and it is time to turn homeward.

The north side of London was famous for suburban houses of entertainment. Midway down Gray's Inn Lane stands Town's End Lane (so called in the old maps), or Elm Street, which takes its name from some elms that once grew there. To the right is Mount Pleasant, and on its summit is planted a little hostelrie, which commanded a delightful prospect of fields, that are now annihilated; their site and our sight being profaned by the House of Correction and the Treadmill! Farther on, to the right, is Warner Street, which the lover of old English ballad poetry and music will never pass without a sigh; for there, while the town were applauding his dramatic drolleries,--and his beautiful songs charmed alike the humble and the refined,--their author, Henry Carey, in a fit of melancholy destroyed himself. *

* October 4, 1743.

Close by stood the old Bath House, which was built over a _Cold Spring_ by one Walter Baynes, in 1697. * The house is razed to the ground, but the spring remains. A few paces forward is the Lord Cobham's Head, ** transmogrified into a modern temple for tippling; its shady gravel walks, handsome grove of trees, and green bowling alleys, are long since destroyed. Its opposite neighbour _was_ (for not a vestige of the ancient building remains) the Sir John Oldcastle, *** where the wayfarer was invited to regale upon moderate terms.

* According to tradition, this was once the bath of Nell Gwynn. In Baynes's Row, close by, lived for many years the celebrated clown Joe Grimaldi.

** “Sir,--Coming to my lodging in Islington, I called at the Lord Cobham's Head, in Cold Bath Fields, to drink some of their beer, which I had often heard to be the finest, strongest, and most pleasant in London, where I found a very handsome house, good accommodation, and pleasantly situated. I afterwards walked in the garden, where I was greatly surprised to find a very handsome grove of trees, with gravel walks, and finely illuminated, to please the company that should honour them with drinking a tankard of beer, which is threepence. There will be good attendance, and music of all sorts, both vocal and instrumental, and will begin this day, being the 10th of August.

“I am yours,

“Tom Freeman.”

Daily Advertiser, 9th August 1742.

*** “Sir,--A few days ago, invited by the serenity of the evening, I made a little excursion into the fields. Returning home, being in a gay humour, I stopt at a booth near Sir John Oldcastle's, to hear the rhetoric of Mr. Andrew. He used so much eloquence to persuade his auditors to walk in, that I (with many others) went to see his entertainment; and I never was more agreeably amused than with the performances of the three Bath Morris Dancers. They showed so many astonishing feats of strength and activity, so many amazing transformations, that it is impossible for the most lively imagination to form an adequate idea thereof. As the Fairs are coming on, I presume these admirable artists will be engaged to entertain the town; and I assure your readers they can't spend an hour more agreeably than in seeing the performances of these wonderful men.

“I am, &c.

Daily Advertiser, 27th July 1743.

See a rare print, entituled “A new and exact prospect of the North side of the City of London, taken from the Upper Pond near Islington. Printed and sold by Thomas Bake-well, Print and Map-seller, over against Birching Lane, Corn-hill, August 5, 1730.”

Show-booths were erected in this immediate neighbourhood for Merry-Andrews and mor-ris-dancers. Onward was the Ducking Pond; * (“Because I dwell at Hogsden,” says _Master Stephen, in Every Man in his Humour_, “I shall keep company with none but the archers of Finsbury or the citizens that come a ducking to Islington Ponds;”) and, proceeding in almost a straight line towards “_Old Iseldon,_” were the London Spa, originally built in 1206; Phillips's New Wells; *

* “By a company of English, French, and Germans, at Phillips's New Wells, near the London Spa, Clerkenwell, 20th August 1743.

“This evening, and during the Summer Season, will be performed several new exercises of Rope-dancing, Tumbling, Vaulting, Equilibres, Ladder-dancing, and Balancing, by Ma-- dame Kerman, Sampson Rogetzi, Monsieur German, and Monsieur Dominique; with a new Grand Dance, called Apollo and Daphne, by Mr. Phillips, Mrs. Lebrune, and others; singing by Mrs. Phillips and Mrs. Jackson; likewise the extraordinary performance of Herr Von Eeekenberg, who imitates the lark, thrush, blackbird, goldfinch, canary-bird, flageolet, and German flute; a Sailor's Dance by Mr. Phillips; and Monsieur Dominique flies through a hogshead, and forces both heads out. To which will be added The Harlot's Progress. Harlequin by Mr. Phillips; Miss Kitty by Mrs. Phillips. Also, an exact representation of the late glorious victory gained over the French by the English at the battle of Dettingen, with the taking of the White Household Standard by the Scots Greys, and blowing up the bridge, and destroying and drowning most part of the French army. To begin every evening at five o'clock. Every one will be admitted for a pint of wine, as usual.”

Mahommed Caratha, the Grand Turk, performed here his “Surprising Equilibres on the Slack Rope.”

In after years, the imitations of Herr Von Eeekenberg were emulated by James Boswell. (Bozzy!)

“A great many years ago, when Dr. Blair and I (Boswell) were sitting together in the pit of Drury Lane Playhouse, in a wild freak of youthful extravagance, I entertained the audience prodigiously by imitating the lowings of a cow. The universal cry of the galleries was, 'Encore the cow!' In the pride of my heart I attempted imitations of some other animals, but with very inferior effect. My revered friend, anxious for my fame, with an air of the utmost gravity and earnestness, addressed me thus, My dear sir, I would confine myself to the cow!'”

the New Red Lion Cockpit; * the Mulberry Gardens; **

* “At the New Red Lion Cockpit, near the Old London Spaw, Clerkenwell, this present Monday, being the 12th July 1731, will be seen the Royal Sport of Cock-fighting, for two guineas a-battle. To-morrow begins the match for four guineas a-battle, and twenty guineas the old battle, and continues all the week, beginning at four o'clock.”

** “Mulberry Gardens, Clerkenwell.--The gloomy clouds that obscured the season, it is to be hoped, are vanished, and nature once more shines with a benign and cheerful influence. Come, then, ye honest sons of trade and industry, after the fatigues of a well-spent day, and taste of our rural pleasures! Ye sons of care, here throw aside your burden! Ye jolly Bacchanalians, here regale, and toast your rosy god beneath the verdant branches! Ye gentle lovers, here, to soft sounds of harmony, breathe out your sighs, till the cruel fair one listens to the voice of love! Ye who delight in feats of war, and are anxious for our heroes abroad, in mimic fires here see their ardour displayed!

“Note.--The proprietor being informed that it is a general complaint against others who offer the like entertainments, that if the gentle zephyrs blow ever so little, the company are in danger of having their viands fanned away, through the thinness of their consistence, promises that his shall be of such a solidity as to resist, the air!”--Daily Advertiser, July 8, 1745.

The latter part of this picturesque and poetical advertisement is a sly hit at what, par excellence, are called, “Vauxhall slices.”

the Shakspeare's Head Tavern and Jubilee Gardens; * the New Tunbridge Wells, **

* In 1742, the public were entertained at the “Shakspeare's Head, near the New Wells, Clerkenwell,', with refreshments of all sorts, and music; “the harpsichord being placed in so judicious a situation, that the whole company cannot fail of equally receiving the benefit.” In 1770, Mr. Tonas exhibited “a great and pleasing variety of performances, in a commodious apartment,” up one pair.

** These once beautiful tea-gardens (we remember them as such) were formerly in high repute. In 1733, their Royal Highnesses the Princesses Amelia and Caroline frequented them in the summer time, for the purpose of drinking the waters. They have furnished a subject for pamphlets, poems, plays, songs, and medical treatises, by Ned Ward, George Col-man the elder, Bickham, Dr. Hugh Smith, &c. Nothing now remains of them but the original chalybeate spring, which is still preserved in an obscure nook, amidst a poverty- stricken and squalid rookery of misery and vice.

a fashionable morning lounge of the nobility and gentry during the early part of the eighteenth century; the Sir Hugh Middleton's Head; the Farthing Pie House; * and Sadler's Music House and “Sweet Wells.” ** A little to the left were Merlin's Cave,

* Farthing Pie Houses were common in the outskirts of London a century ago. Their fragrance caught the sharp set citizen by the nose, and led him in by that prominent member to feast on their savoury fare. One solitary Farthing Pie House (the Green Man) still stands near Portland Road, on the way to Paddington.

** Originally a chalybeate spring, then a music-house, and afterwards a “theatre-royal!” Cheesecakes, pipes, wine, and punch, were formerly part of the entertainment.

“If at Sadler's sweet Wells the wine should be thick, The cheesecakes be sour, or Miss Wilkinson sick, If the fume of the pipe should prove pow'rful in June, Or the tumblers be lame, or the bells out of tune,

We hope you will call at our warehouse at Drury,--We've a curious assortment of goods, I assure you.” Foote's Prologue to All in the Wrong, 1761.

Its rural vicinity made it a great favourite with the play- going and punch-drinking citizens. See Hogarth's print of “Evening.”

“A New Song on Sadler's Wells, set by Mr. Brett, 1740.

'At eve, when Sylvan's shady scene Is clad with spreading branches green, And varied sweets all round display'd, To grace the pleasant flow'ry meads, For those who're willing joys to taste, Where pleasures flow and blessings last, And God of Health with transport dwells, Must all repair to Sadler's Wells. The pleasant streams of Middleton In gentle murmurs glide along, In which the sporting fishes play, To close each weary summer's day; And music's charm, in lulling sounds, With mirth and harmony abounds; While nymphs and swains, with beaus and belles, All praise the joys of Sadler's Wells.'”

Bagnigge Wells, * the English Grotto (which stood near the New River Water-works in the fields), and, farther in advance, White Conduit House. **

* Once the reputed residence of Nell Gwynn, which makes the tradition of her visiting the “Old Bath House” more than probable. F or. upwards of a century it has been a noted place of entertainment.'Tis now almost a ruin! Pass we to its brighter days, as sung in the “Sunday Ramble,” 1778:--

“Salubrious waters, tea, and wine, Here you may have, and also dine; But as ye through the gardens rove, Beware, fond youths, the darts of love!”

** So called after an ancient conduit that once stood hard by. Goldsmith, in the “Citizen of the World,” celebrates the “hot rolls and butter' of White Conduit House. Thither himself and a few friends would repair to tea, after having dined at Highbury Barn. A supper at the Grecian, or Temple Exchange Coffeehouses, closed the “Shoemaker's Holiday” of this exquisite English Classic,--this gentle and benignant spirit!

Passing by the Old Red Lion, bearing the date of 1415, and since brightened up with some regard to the taste of ancient times; and the Angel,--now a _fallen_ one!--a huge structure, the architecture of which is anything but angelic, having risen on its ruins, we enter Islington, described by Goldsmith as “a pretty and neat town.” In ancient times it was not unknown to fame.

“What village can boast like fair Islington town

Such time-honour'd worthies, such ancient renown?

Here jolly Queen Bess, after flirting with Leicester,

'_Undumpish'd'_ herself with Dick Tarleton her jester.

Here gallant gay Essex, and burly Lord Burleigh,

Sat late at their revels, and came to them early;

Here honest Sir John took his ease at his inn--

Bardolph's proboscis, and Jack's double chin!

Here Finsbury archers disported and quaff'd,

Here Raleigh the brave took his pipe and his draught;

Here the Knight of St. John pledged the Highbury Monk,

Till both to their pallets reel'd piously drunk.” *

In “The Walks of Islington and Hogsdon, with the Humours of Wood Street Compter,” a comedy, by Thomas Jordan, 1641, the scene is laid at the Saracen's Head, Islington; and the prologue celebrates its “bottle-beer, cream, and (gooseberry) fools and the “Merry Milkmaid of Islington,

* “The Islington Garland.”

or the Rambling Gallant defeated,” a comedy, 1680, is another proof of its popularity. Poor Robin, in his almanac, 1676, says,

“At Islington

A Fair they hold,

Where cakes and ale

Are to be sold.

At Highgate and

At Holloway

The like is kept

Here every day.

At Totnam Court

And Kentish Town,

And all those places

Up and down.”

Drunken Barnaby notices some of its inns. Sir William d'Avenant, describing the amusements of the citizens during the long vacation, makes a “husband gray” ask,

“Where's Dame? (quoth he.) Quoth son of shop

She's gone her cake in milk to sop--

Ho! Ho!--to _Islington_--enough!”

Bonnel Thornton, in “The Connoisseur,” speaks of the citizens smoking their pipes and drinking their ale at Islington; and Sir William Wealthy exclaims to his money-getting brother, “What, old boy, times are changed since the date of thy indentures, when the sleek crop-eared 'prentice used to dangle after his mistress, with the great Bible under his arm, to St. Bride's on a Sunday, bring home the text, repeat the divisions of the discourse, dine at twelve, and regale upon a gaudy day with buns and beer at _Islington_ or Mile-end.” *

Among its many by-gone houses of entertainment, the _Three Hats_ has a double claim upon our notice. It was the arena where those celebrated masters, Johnson, ** Price, Sampson, *** and Coningham exhibited their feats of horsemanship, and the scene of Mr. Mawworm's early back-slidings. “I used to go,” (says that regenerated ranter to old Lady Lambert,) “every Sunday evening to the Three Hats at Islington; it's a public house; mayhap your Ladyship may know it.

* “The Minor,” Act I.

** Johnson exhibited in 1758, and Price, at about the same time,--Coningham in 1772. Price amassed upwards of fourteen thousand pounds by his engagements at home and abroad.

*** “Horsemanship, April 29, 1767.

Mr. Sampson will begin his famous feats of horsemanship next Monday, at a commodious place built for that purpose in a field adjoining the Three Hats at Islington, where he intends to continue his performance during the summer season. The doors to be opened at four, and Mr. Sampson will mount at five. Admittance, one shilling each. A proper band of music is engaged for the entertainment of those ladies and gentlemen who are pleased to honour him with their company.”

I was a great lover of skittles, too; but now I can't bear them.” At Dobney's Jubilee Gardens (now entirely covered with mean hovels), Daniel Wildman * performed equestrian exercises; and, that no lack of entertainment might be found in this once merry village, “a new booth, near Islington Turnpike,” for tricks and mummery, was erected in September 1767; “an insignificant erection, calculated totally for the lowest classes, inferior artisans, superb apprentices, and journeymen.” ** It may not be out of place to mention that “the Pantheon *** in Spa Fields,

* “The Bees on Horseback!” At the Jubilee Gardens, Dobney's, 1772. “Daniel Wildman rides, standing upright, one foot on the saddle, and the other on the horse's neck, with a curious mask of bees on his face. He also rides, standing upright on the saddle, with the bridle in his mouth, and, by firing a pistol, makes one part of the bees march over a table, and the other part swarm in the air, and return to their proper places again.”

** Animadvertor's letter to the Printer of the Daily Advertiser, 21st September 1767.

*** August 22nd, 1770, Mr. Craven stated in an advertisement, that he had “established rules for the strictest maintenance of order” at the Pantheon. How far this was true, the following letter “To the Printer of the St. James's Chronicle” will show:--

“Sir,--Happening to dine last Sunday with a friend in the city, after coming from church, the weather being very inviting, we took a walk as far as Islington. In our return home towards Cold Bath Fields, we stepped in to view the Pantheon there; but such a scene of disorder, riot, and confusion, presented itself to me on my entrance, that I was just turning on my heel in order to quit it, when my friend observing that we might as well have something for our money (for the doorkeeper obliged each of us to deposit a tester before he granted us admittance), I acquiesced in his proposal, and became one of the giddy multitude. I soon, however, repented of my choice; for, besides having our sides almost squeezed together, we were in danger every minute of being scalded by the boiling water which the officious Mercuries were circulating with the utmost expedition through their respective districts. We therefore began to look out for some place to sit down in, which with the greatest difficulty we at length procured, and producing our tickets, were served with twelve-penny worth of punch. Being seated towards the front of one of the galleries, I had now a better opportunity of viewing this dissipated scene. The male part of the company seemed to consist chiefly of city apprentices and the lower class of tradesmen. The ladies, who constituted by far the greater part of the assembly, seemed most of them to be pupils of the Cyprian goddess, and I was sometimes accosted with, 'Pray, sir, will you treat me with a dish of tea?' Of all the tea-houses in the environs of London, the most exceptionable that I have had occasion to be in is the Pantheon.

“I am sir, your constant reader,

“Speculator.”

“Chiswick, May 5, 1772.”

near Islington,” * was opened in 1770 for the sale of tea, coffee, wine, punch, &c., a “tester” being the price of admission to the promenade and galleries. It was eventually turned to a very different use, and converted into a lay chapel by the late Countess of Huntingdon.

* Spa-Fields (like “Jack Plackett's Common” the site of Dalby Terrace, Islington) was famous for duck-hunting, bull- baiting, and other low sports. “On Wednesday last, two women fought for a new shift valued at half-a-guinea, in the Spaw- Fields near Islington. The battle was won by a woman called Bruising Peg, who beat her antagonist in a terrible manner.”--22nd June 1768.

But by far the most interesting ancient hostelrie that has submitted to the demolishing mania for improvement is the _Old Queen's Head_, formerly situate in the Lower Street, Islington. This stately edifice was one of the most perfect specimens of ancient domestic architecture in England. Under its venerable roof Sir Walter Raleigh, it is said, “puffed his pipe;” and might not Jack Falstaff have taken his ease there, when he journeyed to string a bow with the Finsbury archers? For many years it was a pleasant retreat for retired citizens, who quaffed their nut-brown beneath its primitive porch, and indulged in reminiscences of the olden time. Thither would little Quick, King George the Third's favourite actor, resort to drink cold punch, and “babble” of his theatrical contemporaries. Plays * were formerly acted there.

* The following curious “Old Queen's Head” play-bill, temp. George the Second, is presumed to be unique:--

G. II. R.

By a Company of Comedians, at the Queen's Head, in the Lower Street, Islington,

This present evening will be acted a Tragedy, called the Fair Penitent.

Sciolto, Mr. Malone.--Horatio, Mr. Johnson. Altamont, Mr. Jones.--Lothario, Mr. Dunn. Rosano, Mr. Harris.--Calista, Mrs. Harman. Lavinia, Mrs. Malone.--Lucilla, Miss Platt. To which will be added, a Farce called The Lying Valet. Prices--Pit, 2s.; Gallery, Is. To begin at 7 o'clock.”

On Monday, October 19, 1829, it was razed to the ground, to make room for a misshapen mass of modern masonry. The oak parlour has been preserved from the wreck, and is well worth a visit from the antiquary. Canonbury Tavern and Highbury Barn still maintain their festive honours. Farther a-field are the Sluice, or Eel-pie House; Copenhagen House; Hornsey-wood House, formerly the hunting seat of Queen Elizabeth; Chalk Farm; Jack Straw's Castle; the Spaniards, &c. as yet undefiled by pitiful prettinesses of bricks and mortar, and affording a delightful opportunity of enjoying pure air and pastime. The canonised Bishop of Lichfield and Mademoiselle St. Agnes have each their wells. What perambulator of the suburbs but knows St. Chad, in Gray's Inn Lane, and St. Agnes le Clair, * at Hoxton? Paneras **

* Whit, in Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, promises to treat his company with a clean glass, washed with the water of Agnes le Clare.

** “At Edward Martin's, at the Hornes at Pancrass, is that excellent water, highly approved of by the most eminent phy- sitians, and found by long experience to be a powerful antidote against rising of the vapours, also against the stone and gravel. It likewise cleanses the body, purifies and sweetens the blood, and is a general and sovereign help to nature. I shall open on Whitson-Monday, the 24th of May 1697; and there will be likewise dancing every Tuesday and Thursday all the summer season at the place aforesaid. The poor may drink the waters gratis.” Then follow sixteen lines of rhyme in praise of “this noble water,” and inviting ladies and gentlemen to drink of it. Of this rare hand-bill no other copy is known.

“And although this place (Paneras) be as it were forsaken of all, and true men seldome frequent the same but upon de-vyne occasions, yet is it visyted and usually haunted of roages, vagabondes, harlettes and theeves, who assemble not ther to pray, but to wayte for praye, and manie fall into their hands clothed, that are glad when they are escaped naked. Walke not ther too late.”--Speculi Britannio Pars, by John Norden, MS. 1594.

and Hampstead Wells, renowned for their salubrious waters, are dried up. Though the two latter were professed marts for _aqua pura_, liquids more exhilarating were provided for those who relished stronger stimulants. We may therefore fairly assume that John Bull anciently travelled northward ho! when he rambled abroad for recreation.

As population increased, houses of entertainment multiplied to meet the demand. South, east, and west they rose at convenient distances, within the reach of a short stage, and a long pair of legs. Apollo Gardens, St. George's Fields; Bohemia's Head; Turnham Green; Cuper's Gardens, Lambeth; China Hall, Rotherhithe; Dog and Duck, St. George's Fields; Cherry Gardens Bowling-green, Rotherhithe; Cumberland Gardens, Vaux-hall; Spa Gardens, Bermondsey; Finch's Grotto Garden's, St. George's Fields; Smith's Tea Gardens, Vauxhall; Kendal House, Isleworth; New Wells, Goodman's Fields; Marble Hall, Vaux-hall; Staton's Tea-House, opposite Mary-le-bone Gardens; the Queen's Head and Artichoke, Mary-le-bone Fields; Ruckholt House, in Essex, of which facetious Jemmy Worsdale was the Apollo; Old Chelsea Bun-house; Queen Elizabeth's Cheesecake House, in Hyde Park; the Star and Garter Tavern, * and Don Saltero's coffeehouse, **

* “Star and Garter Tavern, Chelsea, 1763. Mr. Lowe will display his uncommon abilities with watches, letters, rings, swords, cards, and enchanted clock, which absolutely tells the thoughts of any person in the company. The astonishing Little Man, only four inches high, pays his respects to the company, and vanishes in a flash of fire. Mr. Lowe commands nine lighted candles to fly from the table to the top of the ceiling! Added, a grand entertainment, with musick and dancing, &c. &c.”

** The great attraction of Don Saltero's Coffeehouse was its collection of rarities, a catalogue of which was published as a guide to the visitors. It comprehends almost every description of curiosity, natural and artificial. “Tigers' tusks; the Pope's candle; the skeleton of a Guinea-pig; a fly-cap monkey; a piece of the true Cross; the Four Evangelists' heads cut on a cherry-stone; the King of Morocco's tobacco-pipe;

Mary Queen of Scot's pincushion; Queen Elizabeth's prayer- book; a pair of Nun's stockings; Job's ears, which grew on a tree; a frog in a tobacco stopper,” and five hundred more odd relies! The Don had a rival, as appears by “A Catalogue of the Rarities to be seen at Adams's, at the Royal Swan, in Kingsland Road, leading from Shoreditch Church, 1756.” Mr. Adams exhibited, for the entertainment of the curious, “Miss Jenny Cameron's shoes; Adam's eldest daughter's hat; the heart of the famous Bess Adams, that was hanged at Tyburn with Lawyer Carr, January 18, 1736-7; Sir Walter Raleigh's tobacco-pipe; Vicar of Bray's clogs; engine to shell green pease with; teeth that grew in a fish's belly; Black Jack's ribs; the very comb that Abraham combed his son Isaac and Jacob's head with; Wat Tyler's spurs; rope that cured Captain Lowry of the head-ach, ear-ach, tooth-ach and belly- ach; Adam's key of the fore and back door of the Garden of Eden, &e. &e.” These are only a few out of five hundred others equally marvellous. Is this strange catalogue a quiz on Don Saltero?

Chelsea; Mary-le-bone and Ranelagh Gardens; *

* The Rotunda was first opened on the 5th of April, 1742, with a public breakfast. At Ranelagh House (Gentleman's Magazine for 1767) on the 12th of May, were performed the much-admired catches and glees, selected from the curious collection of the Catch Club; being the first of the kind publickly exhibited in this or any other kingdom. The entertainment consisted of the favourite catches and glees, composed by the most eminent masters of the last and present age, by a considerable number of the best vocal and instrumental performers. The choral and instrumental parts were added, to give the catches and glees their proper effect in so large an amphitheatre; being composed for that purpose by Dr. Arne. The Masquerades at Ranelagh are represented in Fielding's “Amelia” as dangerous to morals, and the “Connoisseur” satirises their Eve-like beauties with caustic humour.

and the illuminated saloons and groves of Vauxhall. * These, and many others, bear testimony to the growing spirit of national jollity during a considerable part of the eighteenth century. How few now remain, “the sad historians of the pensive tale,” of their bygone merriments!

* “The extreme beauty and elegance of this place is well known to almost every one of my readers; and happy is it for me that it is so, since to give an adequate idea of it would exceed my power of description. To delineate the particular beauties of these gardens would indeed require as much pains, and as much paper too, as to rehearse all the good actions of their master; whose life proves the truth of an observation which I have read in some other writer, that a truly elegant taste is generally accompanied with an excellency of heart; or in other words, that true virtue is indeed nothing else but true taste.” Amelia, b. ix. c. ix.