At his decease the business was continued by his widow, wherein she
was assisted for several years by a young woman from Shropshire. This
female assistant afterwards married a person named Tomes, from whom
Hone got much information respecting Copenhagen-house. In 1780--the
time of the London Riots--a body of the rioters passed on their way to
attack the seat of Lord Mansfield at Caen-wood; happily, they passed
by without doing any damage, but Mrs. Harrington and her maid were so
much alarmed that they dispatched a man to Justice Hyde, who sent a
party of soldiers to garrison the place, where they remained until the
riots were ended. From this spot the view of the nightly
conflagrations in the metropolis must have been terrific. Mrs. Tomes
says she saw nine fires at one time. On the New Year's-day previous to
this, Mrs. Harrington was not so fortunate. After the family had
retired to rest, a party of burglars forced the kitchen window, and
mistaking the salt-box, in the chimney corner, for a man's head, fired
a ball through it. They then ran upstairs with a dark lantern, tied
the servants, burst the lower panel of Mrs. Harrington's room
door--while she secreted 50_l._ between her bed and the
mattresses--and three of them rushed to her bed-side, armed with a
cutlass, crowbar, and a pistol, while a fourth kept watch outside.
They demanded her money, and as she denied that she had any, they
wrenched her drawers open with the crowbar, refusing to use the keys
she offered to them. In these they found about 10_l._ belonging to her
daughter, a little child, whom they threatened to murder unless she
ceased crying; while they packed up all the plate, linen, and clothes,
which they carried off. They then went into the cellar, set all the
ale barrels running, broke the necks of the wine bottles, spilt the
other liquors, and slashed a round of beef with their cutlasses. From
this wanton destruction they returned to the kitchen, where they ate,
drank, and sung; and eventually frightened Mrs. Harrington into
delivering up the 50_l._ she had secreted, and it was with difficulty
she escaped with her life. Rewards were offered by Government and the
parish of Islington for the apprehension of the robbers; and in May
following one of them, named Clarkson, was discovered, and hopes of
mercy tendered to him if he would discover his accomplices. This man
was a watchmaker of Clerkenwell; the other three were tradesmen. They
were tried and executed, and Clarkson pardoned. He was, however,
afterwards executed for another robbery. In a sense, this robbery was
fortunate to Mrs. Harrington. A subscription was raised, which more
than covered the loss, and the curiosity of the Londoners induced them
to throng to the scene of the robbery. So great was the increase of
business that it became necessary to enlarge the premises. Soon
afterwards the house was celebrated for fives-playing. This game was
our old _hand tennis_, and is a very ancient game. This last addition
was almost accidental. "I made the first fives-ball," says Mrs. Tomes,
"that was ever thrown up against Copenhagen House. One Hickman, a
butcher at Highgate, a countryman of mine, called, and, seeing me
counting, we talked about our country sports, and, amongst the rest,
_fives_. I told him we'd have a game some day. I laid down the stone
myself, and against he came again made a ball. I struck the ball the
first blow, he gave it the second--and so we played--and as there was
company, they liked the sport, and it got talked of." This was the
beginning of fives-play which became so famous at Copenhagen House.
TOPHAM, THE STRONG MAN, AND HIS TAVERNS.
In Upper-street, Islington, was formerly a house with the sign of the
Duke's Head, at the south-east corner of Gadd's Row, (now St. Alban's
Place), which was remarkable, towards the middle of the last century,
on account of its landlord, Thomas Topham, "the strong man of
Islington." He was brought up to the trade of a carpenter, but
abandoned it soon after his apprenticeship had expired; and about the
age of twenty-four became the host of the Red Lion, near the old
Hospital of St. Luke, in which house he failed. When he had attained
his full growth, his stature was about five feet ten inches, and he
soon began to give proof of his superior strength and muscular power.
The first public exhibition of his extraordinary strength was that of
pulling against a horse, lying upon his back, and placing his feet
against the dwarf wall that divided Upper and Lower Moorfields.
By the strength of his fingers, he rolled up a very strong and large
pewter dish, which was placed among the curiosities of the British
Museum, marked near the edge, "April, 3, 1737, Thomas Topham, of
London, carpenter, rolled up this dish (made of the hardest pewter) by
the strength of his hands, in the presence of Dr. John Desaguliers,"
etc. He broke seven or eight pieces of a tobacco-pipe, by the force of
his middle finger, having laid them on his first and third fingers.
Having thrust the bowl of a strong tobacco-pipe under his garter, his
legs being bent, he broke it to pieces by the tendons of his hams,
without altering the position of his legs. Another bowl of this kind
he broke between his first and second finger, by pressing them
together sideways. He took an iron kitchen poker, about a yard long,
and three inches round, and bent it nearly to a right angle, by
striking upon his bare left arm between the elbow and the wrist.
Holding the ends of a poker of like size in his hands, and the middle
of it against the back of his neck, he brought both extremities of it
together before him; and, what was yet more difficult, pulled it
almost straight again. He broke a rope of two inches in circumference;
though, from his awkward manner, he was obliged to exert four times
more strength than was necessary. He lifted a rolling stone of eight
hundred pounds' weight with his hands only, standing in a frame above
it, and taking hold of a chain fastened thereto.
But his grand feat was performed in Coldbath Fields, May 28, 1741, in
commemoration of the taking of Porto Bello, by Admiral Vernon. At this
time Topham was landlord of the Apple-tree, nearly facing the entrance
to the House of Correction; here he exhibited the exploit of lifting
three hogsheads of water, weighing one thousand eight hundred and
thirty-one pounds: he also pulled against one horse, and would have
succeeded against two, or even four, had he taken a proper position;
but in pulling against two, he was jerked from his seat, and had one
of his knees much hurt. Admiral Vernon was present at the above
exhibition, in the presence of thousands of spectators; and there is a
large print of the strange scene.
Topham subsequently removed to Hog-lane, Shoreditch. His wife proved
unfaithful to him, which so distressed him that he stabbed her, and so
mutilated himself that he died, in the flower of his age.
Many years since, there were several signs in the metropolis,
illustrative of Topham's strength: the last was one in East
Smithfield, where he was represented as "the Strong Man pulling
against two Horses."
THE CASTLE TAVERN, HOLBORN.
This noted tavern, described by Strype, a century and a half ago, as a
house of considerable trade, has been, in our time, the head-quarters
of the Prize Ring, kept by two of its heroes, Tom Belcher and Tom
Spring. Here was instituted the Daffy Club; and the long room was
adorned with portraits of pugilistic heroes, including Jem Belcher,
Burke, Jackson, Tom Belcher, old Joe Ward, Dutch Sam, Gregson,
Humphreys, Mendoza, Cribb, Molyneux, Gulley, Randall, Turner, Martin,
Harmer, Spring, Neat, Hickman, Painter, Scroggins, Tom Owen, etc.; and
among other sporting prints, the famous dog, Trusty, the present of
Lord Camelford to Jem Belcher, and the victor in fifty battles. In
_Cribb's Memorial to Congress_ is this picture of the great room:--
"Lent Friday night a bang-up set
Of milling blades at Belcher's met,
All high-bred heroes of the Ring,
Whose very gammon would delight one;
Who, nurs'd beneath the Fancy's wing,
Show all her feathers but the white one.
Brave Tom, the Champion, with an air
Almost Corinthian, took the chair,
And kept the coves in quiet tune,
By showing such a fist of mutton
As on a point of order soon
Would take the shine from Speaker Sutton.
And all the lads look'd gay and bright,
And gin and genius flashed about;
And whosoe'er grew unpolite,
The well-bred Champion serv'd him out."
In 1828, Belcher retired from the tavern and was succeeded by Tom
Spring (Thomas Winter), the immediate successor of Cribb, as Champion
of England. Spring prospered at the Castle many years. He died August
17, 1851, in his fifty-sixth year; he was highly respected, and had
received several testimonials of public and private esteem; among
which were these pieces of plate:--1. The Manchester Cup, presented in
1821. 2. The Hereford Cup, 1823. 3. A noble tankard and a purse, value
upwards of five hundred pounds. 4. A silver goblet, from Spring's
early patron, Mr. Sant.
Spring's figure was an extremely fine one, and his face and forehead
most remarkable. His brow had something of the Greek Jupiter in it,
expressing command, energy, determination, and cool courage. Its
severity was relieved by the lower part of his countenance, the
features of which denoted mildness and playfulness. His actual height
was five feet eleven inches and a half; but he could stretch his neck
so as to make his admeasurement more than six feet.
MARYLEBONE AND PADDINGTON TAVERNS.
Smith, in his very amusing _Book for a Rainy Day_, tells us that in
1772, beyond Portland Chapel, (now St. Paul's,) the highway was
irregular, with here and there a bank of separation; and having
crossed the New Road, there was a turnstile, at the entrance of a
meadow leading to a little old public-house--the Queen's Head and
Artichoke--an odd association: the sign was much weather-beaten,
though perhaps once a tolerably good portrait of Queen Elizabeth: the
house was reported to have been kept by one of Her Majesty's
gardeners.
A little beyond was another turnstile opening also into the fields,
over which was a walk to the Jew's Harp Tavern and Tea Gardens. It
consisted of a large upper room, ascended by an outside staircase for
the accommodation of the company on ball-nights. There were a
semicircular enclosure of boxes for tea and ale drinkers; and tables
and seats for the smokers, guarded by deal-board soldiers between
every box, painted in proper colours. There were trap-ball and tennis
grounds, and skittle-grounds. South of the tea-gardens were
summer-houses and gardens, where the tenant might be seen on Sunday
evening, in a bright scarlet waistcoat, ruffled shirt, and silver
shoe-buckles, comfortably taking his tea with his family, honouring a
Seven Dials friend with a nod on his peregrination to the famed Wells
of Kilburn. Such was the suburban rural enjoyment of a century since
on the borders of Marylebone Park.
There is a capital story told of Mr. Speaker Onslow, who, when he
could escape from the heated atmosphere of the House of Commons, in
his long service of thirty-three years, used to retire to the Jew's
Harp. He dressed himself in plain attire, and preferred taking his
seat in the chimney-corner of the kitchen, where he took part in the
passing joke, and ordinary concerns of the landlord, his family and
customers! He continued this practice for a year or two, and thus
ingratiated himself with his host and his family, who, not knowing his
name, called him "the gentleman," but from his familiar manners,
treated him as one of themselves. It happened, however, one day, that
the landlord of the Jew's Harp was walking along Parliament-street,
when he met the Speaker, in his state-coach, going up with an address
to the throne; and looking narrowly at the chief personage, he was
astonished and confounded at recognising the features of the
gentleman, his constant customer. He hurried home and communicated the
extraordinary intelligence to his wife and family, all of whom were
disconcerted at the liberties which, at different times, they had
taken with so important a person. In the evening, Mr. Onslow came as
usual to the Jew's Harp, with his holiday face and manners, and
prepared to take his seat, but found everything in a state of peculiar
preparation, and the manners of the landlord and his wife changed from
indifference and familiarity to form and obsequiousness: the children
were not allowed to climb upon him, and pull his wig as heretofore,
and the servants were kept at a distance. He, however, took no notice
of the change, but, finding that his name and rank had by some means
been discovered, he paid his reckoning, civilly took his departure,
and never visited the house afterwards.
The celebrated Speaker is buried in the family vault of the Onslows,
at Merrow; and in Trinity Church, Guildford, is a memorial of
him--"the figure of the deceased in a _Roman habit_," and he is
resting upon volumes of the Votes and Journals of the House of
Commons. The monument is overloaded with inscriptions and armorial
displays: we suspect that "the gentleman" of the Jews' Harp
chimney-corner would rather that such indiscriminate ostentation had
been spared, especially "the Roman habit." If we remember rightly,
Speaker Onslow presented to the people of Merrow, for their church, a
cedar-wood pulpit, which the Churchwardens ordered to be _painted
white_!
To return to the taverns. Wilson, our great landscape-painter, was
fond of playing at skittles, and frequented the Green Man
public-house, in the New-road, at the end of Norton-street, originally
known under the appellation of the "Farthing Pye-house;" where bits of
mutton were put into a crust shaped like a pie, and actually sold for
a farthing. This house was kept by a facetious man named Price, of
whom there is a mezzotinto portrait: he was an excellent salt-box
player, and frequently accompanied the famous Abel, when playing on
the violoncello. Wilkes was a frequenter of this house to procure
votes for Middlesex, as it was visited by many opulent freeholders.
The Mother Redcap, at Kentish Town, was a house of no small terror to
travellers in former times. It has been stated that Mother Redcap was
the "Mother Damnable" of Kentish Town; and that it was at her house
that the notorious Moll Cutpurse, the highway-woman of the time of
Oliver Cromwell, dismounted, and frequently lodged.
Kentish Town has had some of its old taverns rebuilt. Here was the
Castle Tavern, which had a Perpendicular stone chimney-piece; the
house was taken down in 1849: close to its southern wall was a
sycamore planted by Lord Nelson, when a boy, at the entrance to his
uncle's cottage; the tree has been spared. Opposite were the old
Assembly-rooms, taken down in 1852: here was a table with an
inscription by an invalid, who recovered his health by walking to this
spot every morning to take his breakfast in front of the house.
Bowling-greens were also among the celebrities of Marylebone: where,
says the grave John Locke (_Diary_, 1679), a curious stranger "may see
several persons of quality bowling, two or three times a week, all the
summer." The bowling-green of the Rose of Normandy Tavern and
Gaming-house in High-street is supposed to be that referred to in Lady
Mary Wortley Montagu's memorable line; and it is one of the scenes of
Captain Macheath's debaucheries, in Gay's _Beggar's Opera_.
The Rose was built some 230 years ago, and was the oldest house in
Marylebone parish: it was originally a detached building, used as a
house of entertainment in connection with the bowling-green at the
back; and in 1659 the place was described as a square brick wall, set
with fruit-trees, gravel walks, and the bowling-green; "all, except
the first, double set with quickset hedges, full-grown, and kept in
excellent order, and indented like town walls." In a map of the Duke
of Portland's estate, of 1708, there are shown two bowling-greens, one
near the top of High-street, and abutting on the grounds of the Old
Manor House; the other at the back of this house: in connection with
the latter was the Rose Tavern, once much frequented by persons of the
first rank, but latterly in much disrepute, and supposed to be
referred to by Pennant, who, when speaking of the Duke of Buckingham's
minute description of the house afterwards the Queen's Palace, says:
"He has omitted his constant visits to the noted Gaming-house at
Marybone; the place of assemblage of all the infamous sharpers of the
time;" to whom his Grace always gave a dinner at the conclusion of the
season; and his parting toast was, "May as many of us as remain
unhanged next spring meet here again."
These Bowling-greens were afterwards incorporated with the well-known
Marylebone Gardens, upon the site of which are now built
Beaumont-street, part of Devonshire-street, and Devonshire-place. The
principal entrance was in High-street. Pepys was here in 1688: "Then
we abroad to Marrowbone, and there walked in the Gardens: the first
time I was ever there, and a pretty place it is." In the _London
Gazette_, 1691, we read of "Long's Bowling-green, at the Rose, at
Marylebone, half a mile distant from London." The Gardens were at
first opened gratis to all classes; after the addition of the
bowling-greens, the company became more select, by one shilling
entrance-money being charged, an equivalent being allowed in viands.
An engraving of 1761 shows the Gardens in their fullest splendour: the
centre walk had rows of trees, with irons for the lamps in the stems;
on either side, latticed alcoves; and on the right, the bow-fronted
orchestra with balustrades, supported by columns; with a projecting
roof, to keep the musicians and singers free from rain; on the left
is a room for balls and suppers. In 1763, the Gardens were taken by
Lowe, the singer; he kept them until 1769, when he conveyed the
property by assignment, to his creditors; the deed we remember to have
seen in Mr. Sampson Hodgkinson's Collection at Acton Green: from it we
learn that the premises of Rysbrack, the sculptor, were formerly part
of the Gardens. Nan Cattley and Signor Storace were among the singers.
James Hook, father of Theodore Hook, composed many songs for the
Gardens; and Dr. Arne, catches and glees; and under his direction was
played Handel's music, followed by fireworks; and in 1772, a
model-picture of Mount Etna, in eruption. Burlettas from Shakspeare
were recited here in 1774. In 1775, Baddeley, the comedian, gave here
his Modern Magic Lantern, including Punch's Election; next, George
Saville Carey his Lecture on Mimicry; and in 1776, fantoccini, sleight
of hand, and representations of the Boulevards at Paris and Pyramids
of Egypt.
Chatterton wrote for the Gardens _The Revenge_, a burletta, the
manuscript of which, together with Chatterton's receipt, given to
Henslow, the proprietor of the Gardens, for the amount paid for the
drama, was found by Mr. Upcott, at a cheesemonger's shop, in the City;
it was published, but its authenticity was at the time doubted by many
eminent critics. (_Crypt_, November, 1827.)
Paddington was long noted for its old Taverns. The White Lion,
Edgware-road, dates 1524, the year when hops were first imported. At
the Red Lion, near the Harrow-road, tradition says, Shakspeare acted;
and another Red Lion, formerly near the Harrow-road bridge over the
Bourn, is described in an inquisition of Edward VI. In this road is
also an ancient Pack-horse; and the Wheatsheaf, Edgware-road, was a
favourite resort of Ben Jonson.[47]
Kilburn Wells, a noted tea-drinking tavern and garden, sprang up from
the fame of the spring of mineral water there.
Bayswater had, within memory, its tea-garden taverns, the most
extensive of which were the "physic gardens" of Sir John Hill, who
here cultivated his medicinal plants, and prepared from them his
tinctures, essences, etc. The ground is now the site of noble
mansions. The Bayswater springs, reservoirs, and conduits, in olden
times, brought here thousands of pleasure-seekers; as did Shepherd's
Bush, with its rural name. Acton, with its wells of mineral water,
about the middle of the last century, were in high repute; the
assembly-room was then a place of great fashionable resort, but on its
decline was converted into tenements. The two noted taverns, the Hats,
at Ealing, were much resorted to in the last century, and early in the
present.
FOOTNOTE:
[47] Robins's _Paddington, Past and Present_.
KENSINGTON AND BROMPTON TAVERNS.
Kensington, on the Great Western road, formerly had its large inns.
The coffee-house west of the Palace Road was much resorted to as a
tea-drinking place, handy to the gardens.
Kensington, to this day, retains its memorial of the residence of
Addison at Holland House, from the period of his marriage. The
thoroughfare from the Kensington Road to Notting Hill is named Addison
Road. At Holland House are shown the table upon which the Essayist
wrote; his reputed portrait; and the chamber in which he died.
It has been commonly stated and believed that Addison's marriage with
the Countess of Warwick was a most unhappy match; and that, to drown
his sorrow, and escape from his termagant wife, he would often slip
away from Holland House to the White Horse Inn, which stood at the
corner of Lord Holland's Lane, and on the site of the present Holland
Arms Inn. Here Addison would enjoy his favourite dish of a fillet of
veal, his bottle, and perhaps a friend. He is also stated to have had
another way of showing his spite to the Countess, by withdrawing the
company from Button's Coffee-house, set up by her Ladyship's old
servant. Moreover, Addison is accused of having taught Dryden to
drink, so as to hasten his end: how doubly "glorious" old John must
have been in his cups. Pope also states that Addison kept such late
hours that he was compelled to quit his company. But both these
anecdotes are from Spence, and are doubted; and they have done much
injury to Addison's character. Miss Aikin, in her _Life of Addison_,
endeavours to invalidate these imputations, by reference to the
sobriety of Addison's early life. He had a remarkably sound
constitution, and could, probably, sit out his companions, and stop
short of actual intoxication; indeed, it was said that he was only
warmed into the utmost brilliancy of table conversation, by the time
that Steele had rendered himself nearly unfit for it. Miss Aikin
refers to the tone and temper, the correctness of taste and judgment
of Addison's writings, in proof of his sobriety; and doubts whether a
man, himself stained with the vice of intoxication, would have dared
to stigmatize it as in his 569th _Spectator_. The idea that domestic
unhappiness led him to contract this dreadful habit, is then
repudiated; and the opposite conclusion supported by the bequest of
his whole property to his lady. "Is it conceivable," asks Miss Aikin,
"that any man would thus 'give and hazard all he had,' even to his
precious only child, in compliment to a woman who should have rendered
his last years miserable by her pride and petulance, and have driven
him out from his home, to pass his comfortless evenings in the gross
indulgence of a tavern." Our amiable biographer, therefore, equally
discredits the stories of Addison's unhappy marriage, and of his
intemperate habits.
The White Horse was taken down many years since. The tradition of its
being the tavern frequented by Addison, was common in Kensington when
Faulkner printed his _History_, in 1820.
There was a celebrated visitor at Holland House who, many years later,
partook of "the gross indulgence." Sheridan was often at Holland House
in his latter days; and Lady Holland told Moore that he used to take a
bottle of wine and a book up to bed with him always; the _former_
alone intended for use. In the morning, he breakfasted in bed, and had
a little brandy or rum in his tea or coffee; made his appearance
between one or two, and pretending important business, used to set out
for town, but regularly stopped at the Adam and Eve public-house for a
dram, and there ran up a long bill, which Lord Holland had to pay.
This was the old roadside inn, long since taken down.
When the building for the Great Exhibition of 1851 was in course of
construction, Alexis Soyer, the celebrated cook from the Reform Club,
hired for a term, Gore House, and converted Lady Blessington's
well-appointed mansion and grounds into a sort of large _restaurant_,
which our poetical cook named "the Symposium." The house was ill
planned for the purpose, and underwent much grotesque decoration and
_bizarre_ embellishment, to meet Soyer's somewhat unorthodox taste;
for his chief aim was to show the public "something they had never
seen before." The designation of the place--Symposium--led to a
dangerous joke: "Ah! I understand," said a wag, "impose-on-'em." Soyer
was horrified, and implored the joker not to name his witticism upon
'Change in the City, but he disregarded the _restaurateur's_ request,
and the pun was often repeated between Cornhill and Kensington.
In the reconstruction and renovation of the place, Soyer was assisted
by his friend Mr. George Augustus Sala, who, some years after, when he
edited _Temple Bar_, described in his very clever manner, what he saw
and thought, whilst for "many moons he slept, and ate, and drank, and
walked, and talked, in Gore House, surrounded by the very strangest of
company":--