The Fleet. Its Rivers, Prison, and Marriages. Ashton John

fetch Mr. Sadler, and shew it to him? Who, having no kindness for Sadler, said no; he should not know of it, but as they had found it, so they would stop it up again, and take no notice of it; which he that found it consented to at first, but after a little time he found himself (whether out of Curiosity, or some other reason, I shall not determine) strongly inclined to tell Sadler of the Well; which he did, one Sabbath Day in the Evening.

      "Sadler, upon this, went down to see the Well, and observing the Curiosity of the Stone Work, that was about it, and fancying within himself that it was a Medicinal Water, formerly had in great esteem, but by some accident or other lost, he took some of it in a Bottle, and carryed it to an Eminent Physician, telling him how the Well was found out, and desiring his Judgment of the Water; who having tasted and tried it, told him it was very strong of a Mineral taste, and advised him to Brew some Beer with it, and carry it to some Persons, to whom he would recommend him; which he did accordingly. And some of those who used to have it of him in Bottles, found so much good by it, that they desired him to bring it in Roundlets."

      Sadler's success, for such it was, provoked the envy of others, and one or two satires upon the Wells were produced.

      Soon after he opened the Wells, Evelyn visited them, as we read in his invaluable diary. "June 11, 1686. I went to see Middleton's receptacle of water 29 and the New Spa Wells, near Islington." The Spring was still known as Sadler's up to 1697 as we find in advertisements in the Post Boy and Flying Post of June, in that year. But the "Musick House" seems to have passed into other hands, for in 1699 it was called "Miles's Musick House." They seem to have had peculiar entertainments here, judging by an account in Dawk's Protestant Mercury of May 24, 1699. "On Tuesday last a fellow at Sadler's Wells, near Islington, after he had dined heartily on a buttock of beef, for the lucre of five guineas, eat a live cock, feathers, guts, and all, with only a plate of oil and vinegar for sawce, and half a pint of brandy to wash it down, and afterwards proffered to lay five guineas more, that he could do the same again in two hours' time."

      That this was a fact is amply borne out by the testimony of Ned Ward, who managed to see most of what was going on in town, and he thus describes the sight in his rough, but vigorous language.

      "With much difficulty we crowded upstairs, where we soon got intelligence of the beastly scene in agitation. At last a table was spread with a dirty cloth in the middle of the room, furnished with bread, pepper, oil, and vinegar; but neither knife, plate, fork, or napkin; and when the beholders had conveniently mounted themselves upon one another's shoulders to take a fair view of his Beastlyness's banquet, in comes the lord of the feast, disguised in an Antick's Cap, like a country hangman, attended by a train of Newmarket executioners. When a chair was set, and he had placed himself in sight of the whole assembly, a live Cock was given into the ravenous paws of this ingurgitating monster."

      In the same year, in his "Walk to Islington," Ward gives a description of the people who frequented this "Musick House."

      " – mixed with a vermin trained up for the gallows,

      As Bullocks30 and files,31 housebreakers and padders.32

      With prize fighters, sweetners,33 and such sort of traders,

      Informers, thief-takers, deer-stealers, and bullies."

      It seems to have been kept by Francis Forcer, a musician, about 1725, and the scene at the Wells is graphically described in "The New River, a Poem, by William Garbott."

      "Through Islington then glides my best loved theme

      And Miles's garden washes with his stream:

      Now F – r's Garden is its proper name,

      Though Miles the man was, who first got it fame;

      And tho' it's own'd, Miles first did make it known,

      F – r improves the same we all must own.

      There you may sit under the shady trees,

      And drink and smoak, fann'd by a gentle breeze;

      Behold the fish, how wantonly they play,

      And catch them also, if you please, you may,

      Two Noble Swans swim by this garden side,

      Of water-fowl the glory and the pride;

      Which to the Garden no small beauty are;

      Were they but black they would be much more rare:

      With ducks so tame that from your hand they'll feed,

      And, I believe, for that, they sometimes bleed.

      A noble Walk likewise adorns the place,

      To which the river adds a greater grace:

      There you may sit or walk, do which you please,

      Which best you like, and suits most with your ease.

      Now to the Show-room let's awhile repair,

      To see the active feats performed there.

      How the bold Dutchman, on the rope doth bound,

      With greater air than others on the ground:

      What capers does he cut! how backward leaps!

      With Andrew Merry eyeing all his steps:

      His comick humours with delight you see,

      Pleasing unto the best of company," &c.

      But a very vivid description of Sadler's Wells is given in "Mackliniana, or Anecdotes of the late Mr. Charles Macklin, Comedian" in the European Magazine for 1801 (vol. xl. p. 16): —

      "Being met one night at Sadler's Wells by a friend, who afterwards saw him home, he went into a history of that place, with an accuracy which, though nature generally denies to the recollection of old age in recent events, seems to atone for it in the remembrance of more remote periods.

      "Sir, I remember the time when the price of admission here was but threepence, except a few places scuttled off at the sides of the stage at sixpence, and which was usually reserved for people of fashion, who occasionally came to see the fun. Here we smoked, and drank porter and rum and water, as much as we could pay for, and every man had his doxy that liked it, and so forth; and though we had a mixture of very odd company (for I believe it was a good deal the baiting place of thieves and highwaymen) there was little or no rioting. There was a public then, Sir, that kept one another in awe.

      "Q. Were the entertainments anything like the present? A. No, no; nothing in the shape of them; some hornpipes and ballad singing, with a kind of pantomimic ballet, and some lofty tumbling – and all this was done by daylight, and there were four or five exhibitions every day.

      "Q. How long did these continue at a time? A. Why, Sir, it depended upon circumstances. The proprietors had always a fellow on the outside of the booth, to calculate how many people were collected for a second exhibition, and when he thought there were enough, he came to the back of the upper seats, and cried out, 'Is Hiram Fisteman here?' This was the cant word agreed upon between the parties, to know the state of the people without – upon which they concluded the entertainment with a song, dismissed that audience, and prepared for a second representation.

      "Q. Was this in Rozamon's time? A. No, no, Sir; long before – not but old Rozamon improved it a good deal, and, I believe, raised the price generally to sixpence, and in this way got a great deal of money."

      Space prevents one going into the merits of the Theatre here, but it may not be out of place if I mention some of the singers, and actors, who have appeared on those boards – Joey Grimaldi, Braham, Miss Shields (afterwards Mrs. Leffler), Edmund Kean, the great traveller Belzoni, Miss Tree, Phelps, of Shakespearian fame, Marston, and others, testify to the talent which has had its home in this theatre. One peculiarity about Sadler's Wells Theatre was the introduction of real water as a scenic effect.

29

The New River Head.

30

A hector, or bully.

31

A pickpocket.

32

A tramp.

33

A Sharper.