In Chapter XIV. of the original Life in London, there is such a graphic description of Tom, Jerry and Logic—the Oxonian; making a “jolly Night of it” at the once famed Vauxhall Gardens: written in so truly a Piercy Egania!!! style that we are tempted to reproduce it in its entirety for the benefit of our readers, together with a few Notes of our own to follow.
——“I perceive,” said Tom, “on perusing the newspaper, Vauxhall Gardens are open, and therefore, Jerry, to-night we will pay them a visit.” “It is an extraordinary place, indeed,” replied Hawthorn, “if my Old Dad and Mam have not exaggerated its grandeur; but, as the old people have not been used to sights, it may account for their astonishment and rapture in speaking about them.” “I am not surprised at that,” answered Tom, smiling; “in my humble opinion, it has not its equal in the world. There is nothing like it in Paris. Pleasure holds her court at Vauxhall. In those gay regions, you are liable to jostle against the gods and goddesses—Bacchus you will find frequently at your elbow—Venus and the Graces passing and repassing, yet condescendingly smiling upon you—Momus surrounded by fun and laughter—Terpsichore attending upon your steps—and Apollo winding up the whole with the most pleasing harmony.” “No Lethe, then is necessary at Vauxhall, I suppose,” said Jerry, ironically, interrupting Tom. “Yes, my dear Coz,” answered the Corinthian. “It might be inferred that nearly, if not all the visitors, upon entering Vauxhall Gardens, had drank of the waters of Lethe, for everything else seems to be forgotten on joining this enchanting scene: however, I can speak for myself in this respect.” “Excellently well defined, Tom,” replied Logic. “To me, Vauxhall is the festival of Love and Harmony, and produces a most happy mixture of society. There is no precision about it, and every person can be accommodated, however substantial, or light and airy their palates. If eating, my dear Jerry, is the object in view, you will perceive tables laid out in every box, and the order is only wanted by the waiter instantly to gratify the appetite. If drinking, the punch is so prime, and immediately follows the call, that it will soon make you as lively as a harlequin. If inclined to waltz or to reel, partners can be procured without the formality of a master of the ceremonies. If you are fond of singing, the notes of that ever-green, Mrs. Bland, never fail to touch the heart. If attached to music, the able performers in the orchestra, the Pandean minstrels, and regimental bands, in various parts of the gardens, prove quite a treat. If promenading is your forte, you will find illuminated walks of the most interesting and animated description. Numerous persons of the highest quality: myriads of lovely females, with gaiety beaming upon every countenance; and the pleasure of meeting with old friends and acquaintances, render the tout ensemble impressively elegant and fascinating. Even the connoisseur in paintings may find subjects at Vauxhall too rich to be passed over in haste. In short, there is such an endless variety of amusements, in rapid succession, from the song to the dance—from refreshment to the glass—from the cascade to the fireworks, that time positively flies in these Gardens. Reflection is not admitted; and the senses are all upon the alert. You may be as extravagant as you please, or you need not spend a single farthing, if economy is your object, and not be found fault with neither. If you like it so best,” continued the Oxonian, smiling, “you may be as gay as a dancing-master, and enter into all the fun and frolic by which you are surrounded; or you can be as decorous as a parson in his pulpit, and be nothing more than a common observer. But if enjoyment is your motto, you may make the most of an evening in these Gardens more than at any other place in the Metropolis. It is all free and easy—stay as long as you like, and depart when you think proper.” “Your description is so flattering,” replied Jerry, “that I do not care how soon the time arrives for us to start.” Logic proposed a “bit of a stroll,” in order to get rid of an hour or two, which was immediately accepted by Tom and Jerry. A turn or two in Bond Street—a stroll through Piccadilly—a “look in” at Tattersall’s—a ramble through Pall Mall—and a strut on the Corinthian Path, fully occupied the time of our heroes till the hour for dinner arrived, when a few glasses of Tom’s rich wines soon put them on the qui vive; Vauxhall was then the object in view, and the Trio started, bent upon enjoying all the pleasures which this place so amply affords to its visitors.
“It is really delightful,” exclaimed Jerry, on his entering the Gardens, during the first act of the concert; “I was, on my first visit, enraptured with Sydney Gardens, at Bath; but, I must confess, that the brilliancy of this scene is so superior that it appears to me like a New World, and you have not, my friends, overrated it.”
Hawthorn, under the guidance of his pals, was not long in exploring the illuminated walks, the rotunda, and everything belonging to this fashionable place of resort. Our hero was in high spirits; Logic was also ripe for a spree; and the Corinthian so agreeable in disposition, that he made known to his two friends he was ready to accommodate them in any proposition they might feel inclined to make. Jerry expressed himself much pleased with the arrangement and performance of the concert; and he likewise observed, the music of the songs reflected considerable credit on the talents of the composer.[26] On passing through the rooms attached to the rotunda, in which the paintings of Hogarth and Hayman[27] are exhibited, and also the portraits of the late King and Queen, on their coming to the throne, Jerry, with a smile, retorted upon Logic, “that those paintings certainly could not be passed over in haste, if the proprietors of the Gardens thought catalogues were not necessary, it would, however, prove much more pleasing to the visitors if a few lines were painted under them, by way of explanation.” “I must agree with your remarks,” replied Logic; “no visitor ought to be suffered to remain in the dark on any subject amidst such a blaze of illumination. Never mind criticising any more about these pictures; let us retire to a nice little box, for I assure you my ogles have feasted enough, and I stand in need of much more substantial refreshment. Some burnt-wine, ham shavings,[28] chickens, sherry, and a lively drop of arrack-punch, my boys, will enable us to finish the evening like trumps.” “A good proposition,” cried Tom. “It is,” said Jerry; “and I second it.” The Trio immediately left the gay scene, for a short period, to partake of all the choice articles which the larder could produce to please their palates. The bottle was not suffered to stand still by our heroes, and the punch also moved off with great facility, till the lively military band invited them once more to join the merry dance, when Logic, full of fun and laughter, said, “he was now able to reel with any lady or gentleman in the Gardens.” “Yes,” replied Tom, laughing heartily, “I’ll back you on that score, Bob; but not to dance.” The elegant appearance and address of the Corinthian soon procured him lots of dashing partners: Jerry was not behind his Coz in that respect; and the agility both our heroes displayed on the “light fantastic toe” attracted numerous gazers. Logic, who was for “pushing along, keep moving,” as he termed it, was interrupted in his pursuit by a jack-o’-dandy hero, and who also quizzed the Oxonian with the appellation of “Old Barnacles.” Some sharp words passed in reply from Logic, when the dandy, who was rather snuffy, as well as impudent, put himself into a posture of defence, crying out, “Come on my fine fealow, I’ll soon spoil your daylights.” The Oxonian immediately gave the dandy so severe a blow on his head that he measured his length on the ground like a log of wood: and, on Logic perceiving the fallen dandy quite terrified, he assumed to be in a most violent rage, and addressing two of the sisterhood near him, with “My dears, if you do not hold my arms, I am so tremendous a fellow, I shall certainly do him a mischief.” This piece of bombast had the desired effect; and the dandy, amidst roars of laughter, endeavoured to get up and run away; but Logic held him, and said, “That was the way he took to correct fellows who addressed him improperly; and, to prevent mistakes in future, he advised him to remember Mr. Green Specs.” The Oxonian, anxious to keep up the fun, pretended, all of a sudden, to be in great agony, and, putting up his hand to his head, exclaimed, in a piteous tone, “I have got the worst of it after all; I have lost an eye.” “I hope not,” said a lady, a little advanced in years, who was an observer of the scene, apparently much grieved at his misfortune. “Never mind, my love,” replied Logic; “it is only a green one; I can get another,” showing his spectacles, with one of his glasses out. Bob now reeled off, receiving the applause of the spectators as a very funny fellow. On the conclusion of the dance, Tom and Jerry traversed the Gardens, and enjoyed themselves to the utmost extent in all the variety they afforded, till day-light had long given them the hint it was time to think of home. Logic, as upon former occasions, was not to be found; and the Corinthian and his Coz were compelled to leave Vauxhall without him.
Under the Especial Patronage of HIS MAJESTY.
Royal Gardens, Vauxhall.—The Proprietors respectfully beg leave to acquaint the Public that these Gardens having been newly and fancifully decorated, are now open for the SEASON, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday Evenings. TO-MORROW, June 11, Wednesday and Friday Evenings next, a Vaudeville, written by Mr. Moncrieffe, called ACTORS’ AL FRESCO; or, the Play in the Pleasure Grounds. With principally original Music composed by Messrs. T. Cooke, Blewitt, and Horn. Sir Udolph Honeysuckle, Mr. S. Bennett; Orlando Saville, Mr. Horn; Signor Patrick O’Diddle, Mr. Fitzwilliam; Jeremy Crambo, Mr. Woulds; Miss Frances Honeysuckle, Miss Graddon; Miss Penelope Honeysuckle, Miss Pearce; Sally Larkspur, Mrs. Fitzwilliam; Villagers, &c., &c.—The Vaudeville will begin at a quarter past eight.—Author and Stage Manager, Mr. Moncrieffe.
An Entirely NEW DIVERTISEMENT (composed by Mr. Ridgway), for which a numerous Corps de Ballet is engaged.