Visit
page one, two,
three, four, five,
six, seven,
eight, nine,
ten, eleven
Like
many other of the north London pleasure gardens, it owed its
origin to the discovery of a spring of " chalybeate"
water, and a year or so after tbat event there is mention
of one of its early proprietors in the London Gaiette (1685),
"Mr. John Langley of London, merchant, who bought the
Rhinoceros and Islington Wells." For the ten years following
it had quite a vogue as a watering-place, and became the frequent
theme of the poets of Grub Street, who were employed to sing
its praises. When the eighteenth century opened Islington
Spa was a fine going concern; to the medicinal attractions
of its waters were added the amusements of a tea garden, and
the amenities of the place, like those of many others, began
to expand in sympathy with the more generous views of life
then becoming common among Londoners. Ned Ward will tell you
of its lime trees, its coffee-house, its dancing saloon, its
raffling shop, and its gaming tables. A tame doctor was kept
on the premises to administer the waters, which were supplementary
now to the pleasures of music, dancing, and the promenade.
Islington Spa became a great place of popular resort, where
city madams, sempstresses, and clerks could rub shoulders
on occasion with people of a higher rank, and its arbours
were much affected by city apprentices and their sweethearts
with a weakness for plum cake.
Other
less desirable visitors followed, as was usually the case
in these public places-sharpers, frail women, and pickpockets,
and even on occasion gentlemen of the road. They took my Lord
Cobham's watch from him there about the middle of the century,
and doings at the play-tables were not above suspicion.
Like
many of its competitors Islington Spa had varying fortunes
until, in 1733, in the month of May, it occurred to the Princesses
Caroline and Amelia to attend regularly and take its waters.
These royal ladies were duly saluted with twenty-one guns,
and all London flocked to the gardens to see a real princess.
Their visit brought sudden prosperity to the place; the proprietor,
it was said, took £30 of a morning in entrance money
alone, and Mr. Pinchbeck, the toyseller, seizing the psychological
moment, did a large trade in fans bearing a representation
of the place, which may still be found in collections of those
interesting objects.
It
was in that very year that Mr. George Bickham, jun., made
a very pretty drawing of Islington Spa, and engraved it at
the head of a copy of verses set to music, which celebrate
some of the charms of the society which gathered there. The
engraving shows the company taking the waters in a very quaint
and delightful courtyard and garden, and assisted by a contemporary
letter from a young lady who was there soon after we can revive
the pleasures which such places afforded for our ancestors,
and measure the gulf between the Islington of that day and
this. "New Tunbridge Wells is a very pretty and romantick
place," says the letter, "and the water much like
Bath water, but makes one vastly cold and hungary." It
made Lady Mary Wortley Montagu giddy and sleepy, it seems,
but her ladyship left it on record that she derived much benefit
from its use.
Even
as late as 1803 we learn from Malcolm, in that valuable work
of his where are preserved so many interesting particulars
of the life of the century which had just closed, that "the
gardens were very beautiful, particularly at the entrance.
Pedestals and vases are grouped under some extremely picturesque
trees, whose foliage is seen to much advantage from the neighbouring
fields." We do not doubt it; a garden of any sort of
a century old has a beauty of its own, but there is pathos
for a Londoner in the thought that such a picture existed
in Clerkenwell during the present century. The beginning of
the end, however, came soon after. Charlotte Street, afterwards
Thomas Street, arose on part of the site in 1810, and Eliza
Street was built over the original entrance, a new one being
made from Lloyd's Row.
The
gardens, thus curtailed, struggled on till 1840, when the
end came by the building of two rows of houses, known as Spa
Cottages. The well itself was enclosed in an outhouse of the
dwelling of a former proprietor, and its waters, were offered
at sixpence a quart by an enterprising surgeon. It seems almost
incredible that they continued to run until the year 1860.
But all interested in the past of this enormous County of
London will be grateful to Mr. Philip Norman and Mr. Warwick
Wroth, who visited the spot independently in 1894, and after
"a search in the outhouse discovered a cellar containing
the old spring, dry, indeed, but still surrounded by the remains
of its grotto, its steps, and its balustrade, the relics of
its better days.
A
similar institution, which proved a formidable rival to Islington
Spa, was the famous gardens of Bagnigge, opened by a Mr. Hughes
in 1759, in grounds which are now covered by the Phoenix Brewery,
a little north of Clerkenwell Police Court, and by part of
the great building yard of the Messrs. Cubitt in the Gray's
Inn Road. There were traditions of merrymaking about this
pleasant spot long before Mr. Hughes made his venture.
Bagnigge
House, which gave its name to the gardens and wells, was a
country residence of Nell Gwynn, where King Charles the Second
and his brother James delighted at times to take breakfast
with that lady. Mr. Hughes appears to have discovered the
capabilities of the place quite by accident. As a great amateur
of gardening he was much troubled by the difficulty of growing
his pansies and carnations, and in seeking for the cause he
discovered that their roots were beset by the percolations
of two springs of water.
Analyses
of these waters disclosed the fact that one was "a chalybeate
of a ferruginous character, with an agreeable subacid tartness,
apt to produce a kind of giddiness, and afterwards a propensity
to sleep if exercise be not interposed." Thus Dr. Bevis,
the analyst and adviser to Mr. Hughes. The other, we learn
on the same authority, was a "carthartic, which left
a distinguishable brackish bitterness on the palate,"
and three half pints were sufficient for most people.
The
ingenious Mr. Hughes sank wells to collect these health -
giving streams, ran pipes into an ornamental dome supported
on pillars in the classic taste, which he called the Temple,
and provided Londoners with a new spa or watering place-just
as George the Third mounted the throne of his grandfather.
Such
was the origin of Bagnigge Wells, a place of resort for the
true-bred cockney for half a century. Nell Gwynn's dining-room,
the banqueting-hall of Bagnigge House, a room of a generous
spaciousness nearly eighty feet by forty, provided a pump-room
or promenade. The old gardens were laid out with clipped hedges
of yew; formal walks ran between alleys of box and holly;
there were arbours covered with sweetbrier and honeysuckle
for tea-drinking; ponds containing gold fish, then not often
seen; a fountain with Cupid bestriding a swan, and leaden
statues of Phyllis and Corydon - perhaps those very figures
which today give a quaint interest to one of the galleries
of South Kensington.
The
Fleet River, crossed by three rustic bridges, divided the
gardens into two unequal parts, the eastern and smaller portion
being devoted to people whose tastes were less modish than
those of the patrons of the pump-room. Here pleasant seats
were provided on the banks of the stream for such" as
chuse to smoake or drink cyder, ale, etc., which are not permitted
in other parts of the garden."
The
severity of the formal garden too, as we read, declined upon
the eastern bank of the Fleet and melted away into the pleasing
rusticity of willows, elder bushes, burdock and water plants,
which were well known to artists seeking opportunity for the
study of natural foliage.
Carry
on to page five