‘Whereas that ancient and noble house near Hampstead, commonly known as Belsize House, is now taken and fitted up for the entertainment of gentlemen and ladies during the whole summer season; the same will be open on Easter Monday next, with an uncommon solemnity of music and dancing. This undertaking will exceed all of the kind that has hitherto been known near London. Commencing every day at six in the morning, and continuing till eight at night, all persons being privileged to admittance without necessity of expense, etc. The park, wilderness, and gardens being wonderfully improved, and filled with a variety of birds, which compose a most melodious and delightful harmony. N.B.—Persons inclined to walk and divert themselves, may breakfast on tea or coffee as cheap as at their own chambers.’

From time to time we find the proprietor of this ancient prototype of Cremorne, under the title of ‘His Excellency the Welsh Ambassador,’ introducing various novelties for the diversion of his visitors. Now he announces ‘A Plate of Six Guineas to be run for by eleven footmen!’ At another time, ‘For the better diverting of the Company he designs to have Duck-hunting every evening; and what will be more extraordinary, the proprietor having purchased a large Bear-dog that will hunt a duck as well as any spaniel in England; and any gentleman may have the liberty to bring his own spaniel to try him.’

Who doubts that this announcement proved a triumph to the money-getting sagacity of Mr. Howell, more especially when we know that the great canals and walks in the grounds were very commodious for the purpose, and that all ‘the expense attending the diversion is met by the payment of sixpence for gentlemen at the time of going into the park; while the ladies are admitted free.’ But to meet certain inconveniences attending this liberality, an N.B. adds that ‘No person will be admitted but who will be thought agreeable.’

Again we learn that a great quantity of wild deer have been purchased, and that it is the spirited proprietor’s intention ‘to hunt one down every Thursday and Saturday through the whole season; and that on these days, for the convenience of single gentlemen, there will be a good ordinary at two o’clock, and for one of the dishes there will constantly be venison.’ Verily, this Welshman appears to have been exceedingly astute as to the sporting and gastronomic propensities of Englishmen, Metropolitan or otherwise. This advertisement involved a double pleasure—the delight of the chase, enhanced by the expectation of this feast in kind afterwards.

Twelve months after the opening of Belsize Gardens, Read’s Journal, July 15, 1721, contained the following announcement:

‘Their royal highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales dined at Belsize House, near Hampstead, attended by several persons of quality, where they were entertained with the diversions of hunting, and such others as the place afforded, with which they seemed well entertained, and at their departure were very liberal to the servants.’

On such occasions the mounted company rode over the park with horns blowing, and beagles barking, the proprietor leading the hunt in person. I have tried in vain to find the advertisement of this royal visit, which doubtless figured on handbills, or otherwise, in advance of the event, and with as successful an issue to the treasury of Belsize House as the appearance of the Prince of Oude, or the Siamese Ambassador, at Cremorne or the Surrey Gardens in modern times, or the Shahraza at the Crystal Palace in the summer of 1895. Such visitors, of course, bestowed a certain prestige on the new place of amusement, and brought it into favour with (to use a pet phrase of the day) the bon-ton. But this ‘delightful place of amusement’ was by no means dependent on the patronage of lords and ladies; those who could not afford silver were encouraged to spend their pence, ‘a part of the house being set aside for the accommodation of the meaner sort’; while the beaux and coquettes of fashion, who promenaded the Long Room, or minced in high-heeled shoes over the lawns or through the garden alleys, sipped coffee, tea, chocolate, or ratafia, or dined at princely prices à la Pontac, do not appear to have secured perfect immunity from vulgar and even questionable associates, since ‘sham gentlemen’ not unfrequently crept in—anyone, according to the writer of a satirical poem, written only two years after the opening of Belsize as a place of entertainment,

‘Who would at charges be,

Might keep their noble honours company.’