every day.
At Totnam Court
And Kentish Town,
And all those places
Up and down.”
Drunken Barnaby notices some of its inns. Sir William d'Avenant, describing the amusements of the citizens during the long vacation, makes a “husband gray” ask,
“Where's Dame? (quoth he.) Quoth son of shop
She's gone her cake in milk to sop—
Ho! Ho!—to Islington—enough!”
Bonnel Thornton, in “The Connoisseur,” speaks of the citizens smoking their pipes and drinking their ale at Islington; and Sir William Wealthy exclaims to his money-getting brother, “What, old boy, times are changed since the date of thy indentures, when the sleek crop-eared 'prentice used to dangle after his mistress, with the great Bible under his arm, to St. Bride's on a Sunday, bring home the text, repeat the divisions of the discourse, dine at twelve, and regale upon a gaudy day with buns and beer at Islington or Mile-end.” *
Among its many by-gone houses of entertainment, the Three Hats has a double claim upon our notice. It was the arena where those celebrated masters, Johnson, ** Price, Sampson, *** and Coningham exhibited their feats of horsemanship, and the scene of Mr. Mawworm's early back-slidings. “I used to go,” (says that regenerated ranter to old Lady Lambert,) “every Sunday evening to the Three Hats at Islington; it's a public house; mayhap your Ladyship may know it.
* “The Minor,” Act I.
** Johnson exhibited in 1758, and Price, at about the same
time—Coningham in 1772. Price amassed upwards of fourteen
thousand pounds by his engagements at home and abroad.
*** “Horsemanship, April 29, 1767.
Mr. Sampson will begin his famous feats of horsemanship next
Monday, at a commodious place built for that purpose in a
field adjoining the Three Hats at Islington, where he
intends to continue his performance during the summer
season. The doors to be opened at four, and Mr. Sampson will
mount at five. Admittance, one shilling each. A proper band
of music is engaged for the entertainment of those ladies
and gentlemen who are pleased to honour him with their
company.”
I was a great lover of skittles, too; but now I can't bear them.” At Dobney's Jubilee Gardens (now entirely covered with mean hovels), Daniel Wildman * performed equestrian exercises; and, that no lack of entertainment might be found in this once merry village, “a new booth, near Islington Turnpike,” for tricks and mummery, was erected in September 1767; “an insignificant erection, calculated totally for the lowest classes, inferior artisans, superb apprentices, and journeymen.”
Fields,
* “The Bees on Horseback!” At the Jubilee Gardens, Dobney's,
1772. “Daniel Wildman rides, standing upright, one foot on
the saddle, and the other on the horse's neck, with a
curious mask of bees on his face. He also rides, standing
upright on the saddle, with the bridle in his mouth, and, by
firing a pistol, makes one part of the bees march over a
table, and the other part swarm in the air, and return to
their proper places again.”
** Animadvertor's letter to the Printer of the Daily
Advertiser, 21st September 1767.
*** August 22nd, 1770, Mr. Craven stated in an
advertisement, that he had “established rules for the
strictest maintenance of order” at the Pantheon. How far
this was true, the following letter “To the Printer of the
St. James's Chronicle” will show:—
“Sir—Happening to dine last Sunday with a friend in the
city, after coming from church, the weather being very
inviting, we took a walk as far as Islington. In our return
home towards Cold Bath Fields, we stepped in to view the
Pantheon there; but such a scene of disorder, riot, and
confusion, presented itself to me on my entrance, that I was
just turning on my heel in order to quit it, when my friend
observing that we might as well have something for our money
(for the doorkeeper obliged each of us to deposit a tester
before he granted us admittance), I acquiesced in his
proposal, and became one of the giddy multitude. I soon,
however, repented of my choice; for, besides having our
sides almost squeezed together, we were in danger every
minute of being scalded by the boiling water which the
officious Mercuries were circulating with the utmost
expedition through their respective districts. We therefore
began to look out for some place to sit down in, which with
the greatest difficulty we at length procured, and producing
our tickets, were served with twelve-penny worth of punch.
Being seated towards the front of one of the galleries, I
had now a better opportunity of viewing this dissipated
scene. The male part of the company seemed to consist
chiefly of city apprentices and the lower class of
tradesmen. The ladies, who constituted by far the greater
part of the assembly, seemed most of them to be pupils of
the Cyprian goddess, and I was sometimes accosted with,
'Pray, sir, will you treat me with a dish of tea?' Of all
the tea-houses in the environs of London, the most
exceptionable that I have had occasion to be in is the
Pantheon.
“I am sir, your constant reader,
“Speculator.”
“Chiswick, May 5, 1772.”
near Islington,” * was opened in 1770 for the sale of tea, coffee, wine, punch, &c., a “tester” being the price of admission to the promenade and galleries. It was eventually turned to a very different use, and converted into a lay chapel by the late Countess of Huntingdon.
* Spa-Fields (like “Jack Plackett's Common” the site of
Dalby Terrace, Islington) was famous for duck-hunting, bull-
baiting, and other low sports. “On Wednesday last, two women
fought for a new shift valued at half-a-guinea, in the Spaw-
Fields near Islington. The battle was won by a woman called
Bruising Peg, who beat her antagonist in a terrible
manner.”—22nd June 1768.
But by far the most interesting ancient hostelrie that has submitted to the demolishing mania for improvement is the Old Queen's Head, formerly situate in the Lower Street,