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not inebriate;" with the harmless addition of music and dancing. Ale, wine, and punch, were subsequently included in the bill of fare, and dramatic representations. But of latter years the town has walked into the country, and the citizen can just espy at a considerable distance a patch of flowery turf, and a green hill, when his leisure and strength are exhausted, and it is time to turn homeward.

The north side of London was famous for suburban houses of entertainment. Midway down Gray's Inn Lane stands Town's End Lane (so called in the old maps), or Elm Street, which takes its name from some elms that once grew there. To the right is Mount Pleasant, and on its summit is planted a little hostelrie, which commanded a delightful prospect of fields, that are now annihilated; their site and our sight being profaned by the House of Correction and the Treadmill! Farther on, to the right, is Warner Street, which the lover of old English ballad poetry and music will never pass without a sigh; for there, while the town were applauding his dramatic drolleries, and his beautiful songs charmed alike the humble and the refined,-their author, Henry Carey, in a fit of melancholy destroyed himself.' October 4, 1743.

Close by stood the old Bath House, which was built over a Cold Spring by one Walter Baynes, in 1697. The house is razed to the ground, but the spring remains. A few paces forward is the Lord Cobham's Head,2 transmogrified into a modern temple for tippling; its shady gravel walks, handsome grove of trees, and green bowling alleys, are long since destroyed. Its opposite neighbour was (for not a vestige of the ancient building remains) the Sir John Oldcastle,3 where the

1 According to tradition, this was once the bath of Nell Gwynn. In Baynes's Row, close by, lived for many years the celebrated clown Joe Grimaldi,

2" SIR,-Coming to my lodging in Islington, I called at the Lord Cobham's Head, in Cold Bath Fields, to drink some of their beer, which I had often heard to be the finest, strongest, and most pleasant in London, where I found a very handsome house, good accommodation, and pleasantly situated. I afterwards walked in the garden, where I was greatly surprised to find a very handsome grove of trees, with gravel walks, and finely illuminated, to please the company that should honour them with drinking a tankard of beer, which is threepence. There will be good attendance, and music of all sorts, both vocal and instrumental, and will begin this day, being the 10th of August.

"I am yours,

"TOM FREEMAN."

Daily Advertiser, 9th August 1742.

3 SIR, A few days ago, invited by the serenity of the evening, I made a little excursion into the fields. Returning

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wayfarer was invited to regale upon moderate terms. Show-booths were erected in this immediate neighbourhood for Merry-Andrews and morris-dancers. Onward was the Ducking Pond; 1 ("Because I dwell at Hogsden," says Master Stephen, in Every Man in his Humour, "I shall keep company with none but the archers of Finsbury or the citizens that come a ducking to Islington Ponds;") and, proceeding in almost a straight line towards "Old Iseldon," were the London Spa,

home, being in a gay humour, I stopt at a booth near Sir John Oldcastle's, to hear the rhetoric of Mr. Andrew. He used so much eloquence to persuade his auditors to walk in, that I (with many others) went to see his entertainment; and I never was more agreeably amused than with the performances of the three Bath Morris Dancers. They showed so many astonishing feats of strength and activity, so many amazing transformations, that it is impossible for the most lively imagination to form an adequate idea thereof. As the Fairs are coming on, I presume these admirable artists will be engaged to entertain the town; and I assure your readers they can't spend an hour more agreeably than in seeing the performances of these wonderful men.

Daily Advertiser, 27th July 1743.

"I am, &c."

See a rare print, entituled "A new and exact prospect of the North side of the City of London, taken from the Upper Pond near Islington. Printed and sold by Thomas Bakewell, Print and Map-seller, over against Birching Lane, Cornhill, August 5, 1730."

originally built in 1206; Phillips's New Wells;' the

1 "By a company of English, French, and Germans, at Phillips's New Wells, near the London Spa, Clerkenwell, 20th August 1743.

"This evening, and during the Summer Season, will be performed several new exercises of Rope-dancing, Tumbling, Vaulting, Equilibres, Ladder-dancing, and Balancing, by Ma

dame Kerman, Sampson Rogetzi, Monsieur German, and Monsieur Dominique; with a new Grand Dance, called Apollo and Daphne, by Mr. Phillips, Mrs. Lebrune, and others; singing by Mrs. Phillips and Mrs. Jackson; likewise the extraordi

New Red Lion Cockpit; the Mulberry Gardens;2

nary performance of Herr Von Eeckenberg, who imitates the lark, thrush, blackbird, goldfinch, canary-bird, flageolet, and German flute; a Sailor's Dance by Mr. Phillips; and Monsieur Dominique flies through a hogshead, and forces both heads out. To which will be added The Harlot's Progress. Harlequin by Mr. Phillips; Miss Kitty by Mrs. Phillips. Also, an exact representation of the late glorious. victory gained over the French by the English at the battle of Dettingen, with the taking of the White Household Standard by the Scots Greys, and blowing up the bridge, and destroying and drowning most part of the French army. To begin every evening at five o'clock. Every one will be admitted for a pint of wine, as usual.”

Mahommed Caratha, the Grand Turk, performed here his "Surprising Equilibres on the Slack Rope."

In after years, the imitations of Herr Von Eeckenberg were emulated by James Boswell. (Bozzy!)

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"A great many years ago, when Dr. Blair and I (Boswell) were sitting together in the pit of Drury Lane Playhouse, in a wild freak of youthful extravagance, I entertained the audience prodigiously by imitating the lowings of a cow. The universal cry of the galleries was, Encore the cow!' In the pride of my heart I attempted imitations of some other animals, but with very inferior effect. My revered friend, anxious for my fame, with an air of the utmost gravity and earnestness, addressed me thus, 'My dear sir, I would confine myself to the cow!'"

"At the New Red Lion Cockpit, near the Old London Spaw, Clerkenwell, this present Monday, being the 12th July 1731, will be seen the Royal Sport of Cock-fighting, for two guineas a-battle. To-morrow begins the match for four guineas a-battle, and twenty guineas the old battle, and continues all the week, beginning at four o'clock."

2" Mulberry Gardens, Clerkenwell. The gloomy clouds