were invited to one of the public or private breakfast parties that were held at one of the Assembly Houses, or at Spring Gardens.

Spring Gardens was on the other side of the Avon, opposite to the Grove, and the fashionable folk went to it in their sedan-chairs, which were conveyed across the river by the ferry-boat. "It is . .. a sweet retreat, laid out in walks and ponds and parterres of flowers; and there is a long room for breakfasting and dancing," Lydia Melford reported to Mrs. Willis. "As the situation is low and damp, and the season has been remarkably wet, my uncle won't suffer me to go thither, lest I should catch cold; but my aunt says it is all a vulgar prejudice; and, to be sure, a great many gentlemen and ladies of Ireland frequent the place, without seeming to be the worse for it. They say, dancing at Spring Gardens, when the air is moist, is recommended to them as an excellent cure for the rheumatism."* In this resort public breakfasts were served on Mondays and Thursdays, to the accompaniment of French horns and clarionets and, occasionally, vocal music, at a charge of one shilling and sixpence per head. Private breakfast-parties could be given on any day at the moderate charge of one shilling per head, without music; † and the fashionable folk * Smollett: "Humphrey Clinker."

† Other charges at Spring Gardens were: for the public tea on Saturday evenings, with horns and clarionets, one shilling, which payment entitled the visitor to tea or coffee. The subscription for walking in the Gardens was half a crown for the season; and non-subscribers had to pay sixpence for admission, for which a ticket was given entitling the holder "to anything at the bar of that value."

frequently took advantage of the opportunity to have this meal in the open air.

66

"Twas pretty to see how, like birds of a feather,
The people of quality flocked all together;
All pressing, admiring, caressing, and fond,
Just the same as those animals are in a pond :
You've read all their names in the News, I suppose,
But for fear you have not, take the list as it goes.
There was Lady Greasewrister,

And Madam Van-Twister,

Her Ladyship's sister:

Lord Cram, and Lord Vulter,

Sir Brandish O'Culter,

With Marshal Carouzer,

And old Lady Mouzer,

And the great Hanoverian Baron Pauzmowzer;
Besides many others, who all in the rain went,
On purpose to honour this great entertainment:
The company made a most brilliant appearance,
And ate bread and butter with great perseverance :
All the chocolate, too, that my lord set before 'em,
The ladies despatch'd with the utmost decorum,
Soft musical numbers were heard all around,
The horn's and the clarion's echoing sound."*

the meal was not a

As the verse indicates, the meal sumptuous repast, but in addition to the items mentioned, it generally included the specially advertised Spring Gardens Cakes and Rolls," which were ready "every morning from early after nine," and the more celebrated "Sally Lun," the cake called after the confectioner of that name whose shop was in Lilliput Alley.

*Anstey: "The New Bath Guide."

Here in the broiling sun we swallow tea,
Charm'd with tweedledum and tweedledee,*
Cram down the muffin and the buttered bun,
And that eccentric dainty-Sally Lun.

The tendency of the idle visitors was to indulge overmuch in these dainties. Gay thought it worth while to record that "Lady Fitzwilliam has so

little resolution that she cannot resist buttered rolls at breakfast, though she knows they prejudice her health"; † and Thicknesse pours scorn on the folly of men, who, realising that without health and good spirits life is a burden, and that these "two first of all blessings" can only be obtained by exercise and abstinence, yet, even after the heyday of youth is passed, "will go on in loading their bodies with distemper, pain, and sorrow, till life is not worth accepting, and then repair to Bath, as if by the aid of these fountains, without their own, were capable of working miracles, and yet I daily see people who professedly come to Bath for these purposes, first drink three pints or a quart of the Bath Waters, and then sit down to a meal of Sally Luns or hot spongy rolls, rendered high by burnt butter! Such a meal, few young men in full health can get over without feeling much inconvenience, and I have known and seen it produce almost instantaneous death to valetudinarians." To those in weak health, hot buns and the like were dangerous luxuries, and

* Horn and Clarionet.

↑ "Letters from and to Henrietta, Countess of Suffolk." + "The Valetudinarian's Bath Guide."

when followed by a draught of ale occasionally proved fatal, as a curious obituary notice in the Gentleman's Magazine shows: "Wm. Cheseldon, Esq., an eminent anatomist, lithotomest, and surgeon to the Royal Hospital at Chelsea; [died on April 11, 1752] at Bath: He had drunk ale after eating hot buns, upon which being very uneasy, he sent for a physician, who advised vomiting immediately, which advice, had he taken it, might, it is tho't, have sav'd his life."

After breakfast it was no uncommon thing for a dance to be arranged, for even so early in the day the company was ready to dance the minuet or a cotillon on the lawns. It is to Anstey again that we are indebted for a picture of the scene, at an impromptu breakfast party given by Lord Ragamuffin.

He said, it would greatly our pleasure promote
If we all for Spring Gardens set out in a boat:
I never as yet could his reason explain

Why we all sallied forth in the wind and the rain ;
For sure such confusion was never yet known;
Here a cap and a hat, there a cardinal blown :

While his lordship, embroidered and powdered all o'er,
Was bowing, and handing the ladies ashore:
How the misses did huddle, and scuddle, and run;

One would think to be wet must be very good fun;

For by waggling their tails, they all seemed to take pains
To moisten their pinions like ducks when it rains.

So when we had wasted more bread at a breakfast
Than the poor of our parish have ate for this week past,
I saw, all at once, a prodigious great throng
Come bustling, and rustling, and jostling along,
For his lordship was pleased that the company now
To my Lady Bunbutter should curtsy and bow;