
London's
Tea Gardens
An essay by William B Boulton
Visit
page one, two,
three, four,
five, six, seven,
eight, nine,
ten, eleven
The
programme of amusement at this cockney paradise was very typical
of the London al fresco in its prime. In the morning the place
was chiefly at the disposal of the invalids who believed in
the efficacy of its waters, and who, at the height of its
vogue, were to be found at Bagnigge in hundreds. Many of these
partook of the early breakfast which was provided for the
austere ones, who drank the waters in an orthodox manner on
an empty stomach. A good organ, presided over by Mr. Charles
Griffiths, provided music in the pump-room for the gouty and
the lame: the pumproom with its panelled walls, low ceiling,
its armorial bearings, its bust of Nell Gwynn in a niche in
the wall, "bordered with festoons of fruit and flowers,
moulded in delf earth, and coloured after nature," and
its general pleasant flavour of antiquity.
As
the day wore on the invalids withdrew and the place was pre
pared for another class of customers. The citizens, their
wives and daughters, came for their afternoon outing; the
long room if the weather threatened, and the arbours if the
sun shone, were filled with sober parties of shopkeepers or
with boys and their sweet hearts, drinking tea and eating
the bread and butter and the buns baked on the ground for
which the place was famous. Negus was another of the products
of Bagnigge held in much favour, and there were cider and
ale for the more jovial spirits who smoked under the shade
of the Fleet willows and watched the games of skittles and
Dutch pins which were played in the eastern part of the gardens
during the long summer evenings.
It
was on Sundays, however, that Bagnigge was seen at its best.
Its nearness to the city, its undoubtedly pleasant surroundings,
and the quasi-fashionable char acter imparted to the place
by the patronage of the well-to-do invalids who drank its
waters, made it the paradise of the city matron for a quarter
of a century at least.
From
May till October, Holborn and Cheapside and Smithfield put
on their Sunday best and emptied themselves into Bagnigge
as the Sabbath afternoons came round. Half the bad poets of
the last half of the century sang one aspect of the place
or another. Listen to Mr. William Woby in the "Shrubs
of Parnassus" on its springs:
"…
and stil'd the place
Black Mary's hole, there stands a dome superb
Hight Bagnigge, where from our forefathers hid,
Long had two springs in dull stagnation slept;
But taught at length by subtle art to flow
They rise; forth from oblivion's bed they rise;
And manifest their virtues to mankind."
That
was one way of saying what the proprietor said much more directly
in his daily advertisement. "Mr. Davis takes this method
to inform the publick that both the chalybeate and the purging
waters are in the greatest perfection ever known and may be
drank at 3d. each person, or delivered in the pump-room at
8d. per gallon. They are recommended by the most eminent physicians
for various disorders as specified in the hand-bills."
. But there were not wanting versifiers of better equipment.
Here is Mr. Churchill, for example, in 1779 with a metrical
study quite as convincing as Mr. Davis's prose
"Thy
arbour Bagnigge, and the gay alcove
Where the frail nymphs in amorous dalliance rove,
Where 'prentice youths enjoy the Sunday feast,
And city madams boast their Sabbath best,
Where unfledged Templars first as fops parade,
And new made ensigns sport their first cockade."
The
prentice's song, too, is not without some suggestion of local
colour:
"Come,
prithee make it up, Miss, and be as lovers be,
We'll go to Bagnigge Wells, Miss, and there we'll have some
tea;
It's there you'll see the lady-birds perched on the stinging
nettles,
And chrystal water fountains, and shining copper kettles;
It's there you'll see the fishes, more curious they than
whales,
They're made of gold and silver, Miss, and wags their little
tails."
Finally, Mr. Colman in his prologue to Mr. Garrick's"
Bon Ton" gives the city madam's view of what then constituted
the mode
"Bon
Ton's the space 'twixt Saturday and Monday,
'Tis riding in a one horse chair on Sunday,
'Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons
At Bagnigge Wells with china and gilt spoons."
With
these varied attractions for various classes of customers,
Bagnigge during nearly half a century had a not surprising
vogue. There was some attempt at a promenade in fine dresses
on Sundays, where aspiring young men about town, who were
not quite the mode, graduated in deportment for the brighter
glories of Ranelagh and Vauxhall.
Carry
on to page six
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