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.
[Illustration: LONDON BEGGARS