Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

From Capper’s farm were several straggling houses; but the principal part of the ground to the “King’s Head,” at the end of the road, was unbuilt upon. The “Old King’s Head” forms a side object in Hogarth’s beautiful and celebrated picture of the “March to Finchley,” which may be seen with other fine specimens of art in the Foundling Hospital, for the charitable donation of one shilling.

I shall now recommence on the left-hand side of the road, noticing that on the front of the first house, No. 1, in Oxford Street, near the second-floor windows, is the following inscription cut in stone: OXFORD STREET, 1725. In Aggas’s plan of London, engraved in the beginning of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the commencement of this street is designated “The Waye to Uxbridge”; farther on in the same plan the highway is called “Oxford Road.” Hanway Street, better known by the vulgar people under the name of HANOVER YARD, was at this time the resort of the highest fashion for mercery and other articles of dress. The public-house, the sign of the “Blue Posts,” at the corner of Hanway Street, in Tottenham Court Road, was once kept by a man of the name of Sturges, deep in the knowledge of chess, upon which game he published a little work, as is acknowledged on his tombstone in St. James’s burial-ground, Hampstead Road.[55] From the “Blue Posts” the houses were irregularly built to a large space called Gresse’s Gardens, thence to Windmill Street, strongly recommended by physicians for the salubrity of the air. The premises occupied by the French charity children were held by the founders of the Middlesex Hospital, which were established in 1755, where the patients remained until the present building was erected in Charles Street. Colvill Court, parallel with Windmill Street northward, was built in 1766; and Goodge Street,[56] farther on, was, I conjecture, erected much about the same time. Mr. Whitefield’s chapel was built in 1754, upon the site of an immense pond, called THE LITTLE SEA. This pond, so called, is inserted in Pine and Tinney’s plan of London, published in 1742, and also in the large one issued by the same persons in 1746.[57] Beyond the chapel[58] the four dwellings, then called “Paradise Row,” almost terminated the houses on that side. A turnstile opened into Crab-tree Fields.[59] They extended to the “Adam and Eve” public-house, the original appearance of which Hogarth has also introduced into his picture of the “March to Finchley.” It was at this house that the famous pugilistic skill of Broughton and Slack was publicly exhibited, upon an uncovered stage, in a yard open to the North Road.[60]

“Fain would I die preaching.”]

The rare and beautiful etching of the before-mentioned picture by Hogarth was the production of Luke Sullivan,[61] a native of Ireland, but how he acquired his knowledge of art I have not been able to learn; most probably he was of Dame Nature’s school, where pupils can be taught gratis the whole twenty-four hours of every day as long as the world lasts. Sullivan’s talents were not confined to the art of engraving; he was, in my humble opinion, the most extraordinary of all miniature painters. I have three or four of his productions, one of which was so particularly fine, that I could almost say I have it on my retina at this moment. It was the portrait of a most lovely woman as to features, flesh, and blood. She was dressed in a pale green silk gown, lapelled with straw-coloured satin; and in order to keep up a sweetness of tone, the artist had placed primroses in her stomacher; the sky was of a warm green, which blended harmoniously with the carnations of her complexion; her hair was jet, and her necklace of pearls.

Lord Orford, whose early attachment to the sleepy-eyed beauties of King Charles II.’s Court, and those with the lascivious leer of that of Louis XIV., as may be inferred by their numerous portraits in the cabinets at Strawberry Hill, would no doubt have preferred his favourites, Cooper and Petitot--names eternally, and many times unjustly, extolled by the admirers of their works to the injury of our artists, whose talents equal, if not surpass, those of every country put together, in, I think I may say, every branch of the fine arts. Upon this too general opinion of the pre-eminence of Petitot, I have now and then had a battle with Mr. Paul Fischer, the miniature painter, who certainly has produced some most highly finished and excellent likenesses of the Royal Family and several persons of fashion, particularly of King George IV. and Sir Wathen Waller, Bart.[62]

Notwithstanding Tottenham Court Road was so infested by the lowest order, who kept what they called a Gooseberry Fair,[63] it was famous at certain times of the year, particularly in summer, for its booths of regular theatrical performers, who deserted the empty benches of Drury Lane Theatre, under the mismanagement of Mr. Fleetwood,[64] and condescended to admit the audience at sixpence each. Mr. Yates, and several other eminent performers, had their names painted on their booths.

The whole of the ground north from Capper’s farm, at the back of the British Museum, so often mentioned as being frequented by duellists, was in irregular patches, many fields with turnstiles. The pipes of the New River Company were propped up in several parts to the height of six and eight feet, so that persons walked under them to gather watercresses, which grew in great abundance and perfection, or to visit the “Brothers’ Steps,” well known to the Londoners. Of these steps there are many traditionary stories; the one generally believed is, that two brothers were in love with a lady, who would not declare a preference for either, but coolly sat upon a bank to witness the termination of a duel, which proved fatal to both. The bank, it is said, on which she sat, and the footmarks of the brothers when pacing the ground, never produced grass again. The fact is that these steps were so often trodden that it was impossible for the grass to grow. I have frequently passed over them; they were in a field on the site of Mr. Martin’s chapel, or very nearly so, and not on the spot as communicated to Miss Porter, who has written an entertaining novel on the subject.[65]

Aubrey, in his _Miscellanies_, states: “The last summer, on the day of St. John Baptist (1694), I accidentally was walking in the pasture behind Montague House; it was twelve o’clock. I saw there about two or three and twenty young women, most of them well habited, on their knees very busie, as if they had been weeding. I could not presently learn what the matter was; at last a young man told me that they were looking for a coal under the root of a plantain to put under their heads that night, and they should dream who would be their husbands. It was to be found that day and hour.”[66]

“Sixteen String Jack.”]

1774.

I well remember when, in my eighth year, my father’s playfellow, Mr. Joseph Nollekens, leading me by the hand to the end of John Street, to see the notorious terror of the king’s highways, John Rann, commonly called Sixteen-string Jack, on his way to execution at Tyburn, for robbing Dr. Bell, Chaplain to the Princess Amelia, in Gunnesbury Lane. The Doctor died a Prebendary of Westminster. It was pretty generally reported that the sixteen strings worn by this freebooter at his knees were in allusion to the number of times he had been acquitted. Fortunately for the Boswell illustrators, there is an etched portrait of him; for, be it known, thief as he was, he had the honour of being recorded by Dr. Johnson.[67] Rann was a smart fellow, a great favourite with a certain description of _ladies_, and had been coachman to Lord Sandwich, when his Lordship resided in the south-east corner-house of Bedford Row. The malefactor’s coat was a bright pea-green; he had an immense nosegay, which he had received from the hand of one of the frail sisterhood, whose practice it was in those days to present flowers to their favourites from the steps of St. Sepulchre’s church, as the last token of what they called their attachment to the condemned,[68] whose worldly accounts were generally brought to a close at Tyburn, in consequence of their associating with abandoned characters. On our return home, Mr. Nollekens, stooping close to my ear, assured me that, had his father-in-law, Mr. Justice Welch, been high constable, we could have walked all the way to Tyburn by the side of the cart.[69]

At this time houses in High Street, Marylebone, particularly on the western side, continued to be inhabited by families who kept their coaches, and who considered themselves as living in the country, and perhaps their family affairs were as well known as they could have been had they resided at Kilburn.[70] In Marylebone, great and wealthy people of former days could hardly stir an inch without being noticed; indeed, so lately as the year 1728, the _Daily Journal_ assured the public that “many persons arrived in London from their country-houses in Marylebone”; and the same publication, dated October 15th, conveys the following intelligence:--

“The Right Hon. Sir Robert Walpole comes to town this day from Chelsea.”

The following lines were inserted by the late Sir William Musgrave, in his _Adversaria_ (No. 5721):--

“Sir Robert Walpole in great haste
Cryed, ‘Where’s my fellow gone?’
It was answered by a man of taste,
‘Your fellow, Sir, there’s none.’”

One Sunday morning my mother allowed me, before we entered the little church[71] in High Street, Marylebone, to stand to see the young gentlemen of Mr. Fountayne’s boarding-school cross the road, while the bell was chiming for sacred duties. I remember well a summer’s sun shone with full refulgence at the time, and my youthful eyes were dazzled with the various colours of the dresses of the youths, who walked two and two, some in pea-green, others sky-blue, and several in the brightest scarlet; many of them wore gold-laced hats, while the flowing locks of others, at that time allowed to remain uncut at schools, fell over their shoulders. To the best of my recollection, the scholars amounted to about one hundred. As the pleasurable and often idle scenes of my schoolboy days are pictured upon my retina whenever Crouch End, or the name of my venerable master, Norton,[72] are mentioned, and as others may feel similar delight with respect to the places at which they received their early education, I shall endeavour to gratify a few of my readers by a description of the house and playground of Mr. Fountayne’s academy. For this purpose it may not be irrelevant to notice something of the antiquity of that once splendid mansion, in which so many persons have passed their early and innocent hours.

Topographers who mention Marylebone Park inform us that foreign ambassadors were in the time of Queen Elizabeth and James I. amused there by hunting, and that the oldest parts of this school were the remains of the palace in which they were entertained. The earliest topographical representation which I am enabled to instance, is a drawing made by Joslin, dated 1700, formerly in the possession of his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, of which I published an etching. It comprehends the field-gate and palace, its surrounding walls and adjacent buildings in Marylebone to the south-west, including a large mansion, which in all probability had been Oxford House, the grand receptacle of the Harleian Library. Fortune, I am sorry to say, has not favoured me with the power of continuing the declining history of the palace to the period at which it became an academy, nor can I discover the time in which Monsieur de la Place first occupied it.[73] A daughter of De la Place married the Rev. Mr. Fountayne,[74] whose name the school retained until its final demolition in 1791, at which period I remember seeing the large stone balls taken from the brick piers of the gates.

Of this house, when a school, I recollect a miserably executed plate by Roberts, probably for some magazine; there is also a quarto plate displaying a knowledge in perspective, engraved by G. T. Parkyns, from a drawing by J. C. Barrow;[75] but the most interesting, and I must consider the most correct, are four drawings made by Michael Angelo Rooker,[76] formerly in my possession, but now in the illustrated copy of Pennant’s _London_ in the British Museum.[77] These have enabled me to insert the following description of a few parts of the mansion. The first drawing is a view of the principal and original front of the palace, or manor-house, with other buildings open to the playground; it was immediately within the wall on the east side of the road, then standing upon the site of the present Devonshire Mews. This house consisted of an immense body and two wings, a projecting porch in the front, and an enormously deep dormer roof, supported by numerous cantilevers, in the centre of which there was, within a very bold pediment, a shield surmounted by foliage with labels below it. The second drawing exhibits the back, or garden front, which consisted of a flat face with a bay window at each end, glazed in quarries;[78] the wall of the back front terminated with five gables. In the midst of some shrubs stands a tall, lusty gentleman dressed in black, with a white Busby-wig and a three-cornered hat, possibly intended for the figure of the Rev. Mr. Fountayne, as he is directing the gardener to distribute some plants. The third drawing, which is taken from the hall, exhibits the grand staircase, the first flight of which consisted of sixteen steps; the hand-rails were supported with richly carved perforated foliage, from its style, probably of the period of Inigo Jones. The fourth drawing consists of the decorations of the staircase, which was tessellated. This mansion was wholly of brick, and surmounted by a large turret containing the clock and bell. Mr. Fountayne was noticed by Handel as well as Clarke, the celebrated Greek scholar.[79] These gentlemen frequently indulged in musical parties, which were attended by persons of rank and worth, as well as fashion and folly.

ETCHED BY J. T. SMITH

John Mac Nally … “well known about Parliament Street, and the Surrey foot of Westminster Bridge.”]

Mrs. Fountayne was a vain, dashing woman, extremely fond of appearing at Court, for which purpose, as was generally known, she borrowed Lady Harrington’s jewels.[80] Indeed, her passion for display was carried to such an extreme, that she kept her carriage, and that without the knowledge of her husband, by the following artful manœuvre. As the scholars were mostly sons of persons of title and large fortunes, she professed to have many favourites, _who had behaved so well_ that she was often tempted to take them to the play, which so pleased the parents that they liberally reimbursed her in the coach and theatrical expenses, though she actually obtained orders upon those occasions from her friend Mrs. Yates, by which contrivance she was enabled to keep the vehicle in which they were conveyed to the theatres; Mrs. Yates,[81] however, was amply repaid for her orders by the number of tickets which Mrs. Fountayne prevailed on the parents of the scholars to take at her benefits.[82]

Previous to a consultation of physicians respecting the doubtful case of a young gentleman boarder, one of Mr. Fountayne’s daughters overheard something like the following dialogue by placing herself behind the window hangings:--_Doctor_: “You look better.”--“Yes, sir; I now eat suppers, and wear a double flannel jacket.” At this time the lady behind the curtains tittered. “Hark! what noise is that?” interrogated an old member of Warwick Lane’s far-famed college.[83] “Oh,” said another of the faculty, “it’s only the sneezing of a cat.” After this, instead of saying a word about magnesia, Gaskin’s powder, or oil of sweet almonds, they resumed their conversation upon their indulgences, and finally ended with some severe philippic upon Lord North’s administration. This occupied a considerable portion of their time before the house-apothecary (who had called them in) was questioned as to what he had given the patient. His draught being perfectly consistent with the college pharmacopœia, they all agreed that he could not do better than repeat it as often as he thought proper; and thus the important consultation ended.

In the hall of this house was a parrot, so aged that its few remaining feathers were for years confined to its wrinkled skin by a flannel jacket, which in very cold weather received an additional broadcloth covering of the brightest scarlet, so that Poll, like the Lord Mayor, had her scarlet days. Poll, who had been long accustomed to hear her mistress’s general invitation to strangers who called to inquire after the boarders, relieved her of that ceremony by uttering, as soon as they entered, “Do pray walk into the parlour and take a glass of wine!” but this she finally did with so little discrimination, that when a servant came with a letter or a card for her mistress, or a fellow with a summons from the Court of Conscience, he was greeted by the bird with equal liberality and politeness.

In this year the houses of the north end of Newman Street commanded a view of the fields over hillocks of ground now occupied by Norfolk Street,[84] and the north and east outer sides of Middlesex Hospital garden-wall were entirely exposed. From the east end of Union Street, where Locatelli the sculptor subsequently had his studio,[85] the ground was very deep; and much about that spot, more to the east, stood a cottage with a garden before it, with its front to the south. This was kept by John Smith, one of Mr. Wilton the sculptor’s oldest labourers; immediately behind this cottage was a rope-walk, which extended north to a considerable distance under the shade of two magnificent rows of elms. Here I have often seen Richard Wilson the landscape painter and Baretti walk.[86] At the right-hand side of this rope-walk there was a pathway on a bank, commencing from the site of the foundation of the present workhouse, belonging to St. Paul’s, Covent Garden. This house was then planned out, and finished in the ensuing year, according to the date on its western front.

The bank extended northwards to the “Farthing Pie House,” now the sign of the “Green Man,” and was kept by a person of the name of Price, a famous player on the salt-box.[87] Of this highly respectable publican there is an excellent mezzotinto engraving by Jones, after a picture by Lawranson. It commanded views of the old “Queen’s Head and Artichoke,” the old “Jew’s-Harp House,” and the distant hills of Highgate, Hampstead, Primrose, and Harrow. I was then in my eighth year, and frequently played at trap-ball between the above-mentioned sombre elms.

The south and east ends of Queen Anne[88] and Marylebone Streets were then unbuilt, and the space consisted of fields to the west corner of Tottenham Court Road; thence to the extreme of High Street, Marylebone Gardens, Marylebone Bason, and another pond called Cockney-ladle.[89]

I recollect the building of the north side of Marylebone Street, the whole of that portion of Portland Street north of Portland Chapel, the site of Cockney-ladle, Duke Street, Portland Place, and the greatest part of Harley Street, Wimpole Street, and Portland Place, and Devonshire Place when Marylebone Bason was the terror of many a mother.[90] Of this Bason Chatelain executed a spirited etching, of a quarto size, which is now considered by the topographical collectors a great rarity. The carriage and principal entrance to Marylebone Gardens was in High Street; the back entrance was from the fields, beyond which, north, was a narrow, winding passage, with garden-palings on either side, leading into High Street. In this passage were numerous openings into small gardens, divided for the recreation of various cockney florists, their wives, children, and Sunday smoking visitors. These were called the “French Gardens,” in consequence of having been cultivated by refugees who fled their country after the Edict of Nantes.[91] I well remember my grandmother taking me through this passage to Marylebone Gardens, to see the fireworks, and thinking them prodigiously grand. As the following notices of Marylebone Gardens have given me no small pleasure in collecting, and as they afford more information of that once fashionable place of recreation than has hitherto been brought together, or perhaps known to any other individual, I without hesitation offer my gleanings[92] to the reader, chronologically arranged, commencing with Pepys’s visit in

1668.--“When we abroad to Marrowbone, and there walked in the garden; the first time I ever was there, and a pretty place it is.”[93]

1691.--Long’s bowling-green at the “Rose,” at Marylebone, half a mile distant from London, is mentioned in the _London Gazette_, January 11.[94]

1718.--“This is to give notice to all persons of quality, ladies and gentlemen, that there having been illuminations in Marybone bowling-greens on his Majesty’s birthday every year since his happy accession to the throne; the same is (for this time) put off till Monday next, and will be performed, with a _consort_ of musick, in the middle green, by reason there is a Ball in the gardens at Kensington with illuminations, and at Richmond also.” (See the _Daily Courant_, Thursday, May 29.)

1738-9.--Mr. Gough enlarged the gardens, built an orchestra, and issued silver tickets at 12s. for the season, each ticket to admit two persons. From every one without a ticket 6d. was demanded for the evening; but afterwards, as the season advanced, the admission was 1s. for a lady and gentleman. The gardens were open from six till ten.

1740.--An organ, built by Bridge, was added to the band, admittance 6d. each; but afterwards, when the new room was erected, the admission was increased to 1s.

1741. May 23.--A grand martial composition of music was performed by Mr. Lampe, in honour of Admiral Vernon, for taking Carthagena.

ETCHED BY J. T. SMITH

“A silver haired man of the name of Lilly.”]

1742.--The proprietor of the Mulberry Garden, Clerkenwell, indulged in the following remarks upon five places of similar amusement:--

“_Ruckhoult_ has found one day and night’s alfresco in the week to be inconvenient.[95]

“_Ranelagh House_, supported by a giant, whose legs will scarcely support him.[96]

“_Mary le Bon Gardens_ down on their marrow-bones.

“_New Wells_ at low water.[97]

“_At Cuper’s_ the fire almost out.”[98] (See the _Daily Post_, July 28.)

1743.--The holders of Marybone Garden tickets let them out at reduced prices for the evening. Ranelagh tickets were also advertised to be had at Old Slaughter’s Coffee-house at 1s. 3d. each, admitting two persons. Vauxhall tickets were likewise to be had at the same place at 1s. each, admitting two persons. (See the _Daily Advertiser_ for April 23.)

1744.--Miss Scott was a singer, Mr. Knerler played the violin, and Mr. Ferrand an instrument called the Pariton.[99]

1746.--Robberies were now so frequent and the thieves so desperate, that the proprietor of the gardens was obliged to have a guard of soldiers to protect the company to and from London. The best plan of the gardens has been given in Plate I. of Rocque’s Plan of London, published in 1746.

1747.--Miss Falkner, singer;[100] Henry Rose, first violin; and Mr. Philpot, organist.--Admittance to the garden, 6d.; to the concert, 2s.

1748.--Miss Falkner, singer. No persons to be admitted to the balls unless in full dress.

1749.--It appears by the advertisements that dress-balls and concerts were the only amusements of this year.

1750.--Miss Falkner, Mr. Lowe, and Master Phillips, were the singers.

1751.--John Trusler was sole proprietor of the Gardens.[101] Singers, Miss Falkner, Master Phillips, and Master Arne. On the 30th of August there was a ball; and as the road had been repaired, coaches drove up to the door--a ten-and-sixpenny ticket admitted two persons. The doors opened at nine o’clock.

1752.--Miss Falkner and Mr. Wilder singers.

1753.--The _Public Advertiser_ of May 25, June 20, September 10 and 24, states that the gardens were much more extensive by taking in the bowling-green, and considerably improved by several additional walks; that lights had been erected in the coach-way from Oxford Road, and also on the footpath from Cavendish Square to the entrance to the gardens; and that the fireworks were splendid beyond conception. A large sun was exhibited at the top of a picture, a cascade, and shower of fire, and grand _air-balloons_ (perhaps these were the first air-balloons in England) were also most magnificently displayed; and likewise that _red_ fire was introduced. This is the earliest instance of _Red_ fire I have been able to meet with. Mrs. Chambers and Master Moore were singers.

1756.--Two rooms were opened for dinner-parties. Trusler, the proprietor of the gardens, was a cook.

1757.--Mr. Thomas Glanville, Mr. Kear, Mr. Reinhold, and Mr. Champneys were singers.

1758.--The Gardens opened on May the 16th; the singers were, Signora Saratina, Miss Glanvil, and Mr. Kear. No persons were admitted to the ball-rooms without five-shilling tickets, which admitted a gentleman and two ladies; and only twenty-six tickets were delivered for each night. Mr. Trusler’s son produced the first burletta that was performed in the Gardens; it was entitled “LA SERVA PADRONA,” for which he only received the profits of the printed books.[102]

1759.--The Gardens were opened for breakfasting; and Miss Trusler made the cakes. Mr. Reinhold and Mr. Gaudrey were the singers.

1760.--The Gardens, greatly improved, opened on Monday, May 26th, with the usual musical entertainments. The Gardens were opened also every Sunday evening after five o’clock, where genteel company were admitted to walk gratis, and were accommodated with coffee, tea, cakes, etc.

The following announcement appears in the _Daily Advertiser_ of May 6th, this year:--

“Mr. Trusler’s daughter begs leave to inform the Nobility and Gentry, that she intends to make Fruit-Tarts during the fruit Season; and hopes to give equal satisfaction as with the rich Cakes, and Almond Cheesecakes. The Fruit will always be fresh gathered, having great quantities in the Garden; and none but Loaf Sugar used, and the finest Epping Butter. Tarts of a Twelvepenny size will be made every day from One to Three o’clock; and those who want them of larger sizes to fill a Dish, are desired to speak for them, and send their dish or the size of it, and the Cake shall be made to fit.

“The Almond Cheesecakes will be always hot at one o’clock as usual; and the rich Seed and Plum-cakes sent to any part of the town, at 2s. 6d. each. Coffee, Tea, and Chocolate, at any time of the day; and fine Epping Butter may also be had.”[103]

1761.--An excellent half-sheet engraving, after a drawing made by J. Donowell, published this year, represents Marybone Gardens, probably in their fullest splendour. The centre of this view exhibits the longest walk, with regular rows of young trees on either side, the stems of which received the irons for the lamps at about the height of seven feet from the ground. On either side this walk were latticed alcoves: on the right hand of the walk, according to this view, stood the bow-fronted orchestra with balustrades, supported by columns. The roof was extended considerably over the erection, to keep the musicians and singers free from rain. On the left hand of the walk was a room, possibly for balls and suppers. The figures in this view are so well drawn and characteristic of the time, that I am tempted to recommend the particular attention of my reader to it.

The Gardens were opened gratis this year, and the organ was played while the company took their tea.

1762.--The Gardens were in fine order this year, and visited by the Cherokee Kings--admittance sixpence.[104] Mr. Trusler took care to keep out improper company; Miss Trusler continued to make the cakes.

1763.--The Gardens were taken by the famous Tommy Lowe,[105] who engaged Mrs. Vincent, Mrs. Lampe, Jun., Miss Mays, Miss Hyat, Miss Catley, and Mr. Squibb, as singers.

August 12th, Mr. Storace had a benefit;[106] the singers were, Brother Lowe, Miss Catley, Miss Smit, and Miss Plenius. Music. Mr. Samuel Arnold. A large room was cleared in the great house for the brethren to dress in.

Miss Catley’s night was on the 16th of August. Tickets were sold at Miss Catley’s, facing the Gardens.[107]

1764.--The Gardens opened on the 9th May; singers, Mr. Lowe, Mrs. Vincent, Mrs. Lampe, Jun., Miss Moyse, Miss Hyat, and Mr. Squibb. Mr. Trusler left the Gardens this year, and went to reside in Boyle Street, where his daughter continued to make her cakes, etc.

Mr. Lowe returned public thanks to the nobility and gentry for patronising the Gardens.

ETCHED BY J. T. SMITH]

This year a stop was put to tea-drinking in the Gardens on Sunday evenings.

Mr. Lowe offered a reward of ten guineas for the apprehension of any highwayman found on the road to the Gardens.[108]

1765.--This year, Mrs. Collett, Miss Davis, and Mrs. Taylor were the singers.

1766.--£1, 11s. 6d. was the subscription for two persons for the season. The doors opened on the 1st of May, at six o’clock, and the Gardens closed on the 4th of October, for the season. The principal singers were, Tommy Lowe, Taylor, Raworth, Vincent, and Miss Davis. I have an engraving of a Subscription Ticket, inscribed “No. 222, Marybone, admit two, 1766.” As this ticket is adorned by two palm-branches, surmounted with two French-horns, and has also a music book, I conclude it must have been used on a concert night. This year an exhibition of bees took place in the Gardens, and the public were again accommodated with tea at eightpence per head.

1767.--Mrs. Gibbons was a singer there this season.

1768.--Lowe gave up the Gardens, declaring his loss in the concern to have been considerable.[109]

Mr. Phillips, a singer, in the announcement of his benefit this season, states that tickets were to be had at his house, the “Ring and Pearl,” St. Martin’s Court; and also at Young Slaughter’s Coffee-house, in St. Martin’s Lane. The following are the titles of a few of the Marybone Garden songs of this year:--

Young Colin.
Dolly’s Petition.
The Invitation.
The Rose.
The Moth.
Polly.
A Hunting Song.
Jockey--a favourite Scotch song.
Freedom is a real Treasure.
Jenny charming, but a Woman.
Oh, how vain is every Blessing.
Damon and Phillis.

The composers of the above songs were Heron and James Hook (father of Theodore Hook); the singers, Reynoldson, Taylor, and Miss Froud. During the time I was collecting the titles of these and other songs, I noticed an immense number which were dedicated to Chloe. Of this I took the titles of no fewer than thirty-five published between the years 1724 and 1740. Why to Chloe? I have no Stephen Weston now to apply to.[110] Dibdin tells us, when praising the good ship _Nancy_, that Nancy was his wife, and that being the fact, accounts for the number of songs he has left us of his “Charming Nan.”[111]

[1769.--In this year, omitted by Smith, the Gardens were taken over by Dr. Samuel Arnold, the musician. The years 1769-73 were their best period.]

1770.--On June 18th, there was a concert of vocal and instrumental music. First violin, and a concerto, by Mr. Barthelemon; concerto organ, Mr. Hook. The fireworks were under the direction of Signor Rossi. The principal singers this season were, Mr. Reinhold, Mr. Bannister,[112] Mrs. Thompson, Mrs. Barthelemon, and Master Cheney. The music by Signor Pergolesi,[113] with alterations and additional songs by Mr. Arnold. In July, an awning was erected in the garden for the better accommodation of the visitors; and books of the performance were sold at the bar, price sixpence.

1771.--Mr. Bannister, Mrs. Thompson, Miss Catley, and the highly respected Mrs. John Bannister (then Miss Harper) were the singers of this year.

1772.--This season the singers were, Mr. Bannister, Mr. Reinhold, Mrs. Calvert, Mrs. Forbes, Mrs. Cartwright, and Mrs. Thompson. Music by Signor Giardani,[114] Mr. Hook, and Mr. Arnold.

For the convenience of the visitors, coaches were allowed to stand in the field before the back entrance. Mr. Arnold was indicted at Bow Street for the fireworks.[115] Torré, the fire-worker, divided the receipts at the door with the proprietor.

1773.--Proposals were issued for a subscription evening to be held every Thursday during the summer, for which tickets were delivered to admit two persons. The Gardens were opened for general admission three evenings in the week only. On Thursday, May 27th, _Acis and Galatea_ was performed, in which Mr. Bannister, Mr. Reinhold, Mr. Phillips, and Miss Wilde were singers. Signor Torré, the fire-worker, was assisted by Monsieur Caillot of Ranelagh Gardens.

On Friday, September 15th, Dr. Arne conducted his celebrated catches and glees. On the 16th of September, Mr. Clitherow was the fire-worker, for the benefit of the waiters, who parted with their unsold tickets at the doors of the Gardens for whatever they could get. Mr. Winston was in possession of an impression of an admission ticket for this season.

ETCHED BY J. T. SMITH]

1774.--The Gardens opened on May 20th. The principal singers were, Mr. Dubellamy, Miss Wewitzer (sister of the dramatic performer), and Miss Trelawny. The Gardens were opened this year on Sunday evenings for walking recreation, admittance sixpence. The receipts of one evening were at the Town-gate £10, 7s. 6d., at the Field-gate £11, 7s.[116] This year Signor Torré, one of the fire-workers of the Gardens, had a benefit; the admission was 3s. 6d.[117] Signor Caillot was then also a fire-worker in the Gardens; and I find by two shop-bills, in Miss Banks’s collection in the British Museum, that Benjamin Clitherow and Samuel Clanfield had also been employed as fire-workers.

Doctor Kenrick delivered his lectures on Shakspeare in these Gardens this year.[118]

1775.--After frequent inquiries, and a close examination of the newspapers of this year, I could not find any advertisement like those of preceding times with singing and fireworks. The Gardens are thus mentioned during the first part of the season, in the _Morning Chronicle_ and _London Advertiser_ of Monday, May 29th:--

“AT MARYBONE GARDENS,

To-morrow, the 30th instant, will be presented

THE MODERN MAGIC LANTERN,

“In three Parts, being an attempt at a sketch of the Times
in a variety of Caricatures, accompanied with a whimsical and
satirical Dissertation on each Character.

By R. BADDELEY, Comedian.[119]

“BILL OF FARE.

EXORDIUM.