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Updated: May 3, 2025
'Tis a pity they do nothing better with this great empty space of Cavendish Square than fence it with these unsightly boards. By George! I don't know where the town's running. There's Montagu House made into a confounded Don Saltero's museum, with books and stuffed birds and rhinoceroses.
I refused; but March pressed me, and Comyn declared he had staked his reputation upon my horsemanship. Astley was a large man, about my build, and I donned a pair of his leather breeches and boots, and put Indian Chief to his paces around the ring. I found him no more restive, nor as much so, as Firefly. We all repaired afterwards for supper to Don Saltero's Coffee House and Museum in Chelsea.
This was reluctantly assented to; and then Miss Branghton voted for Saltero's Coffee-house; her sister, for a party to Mother Red Cap's; the brother for White-Conduit House; Mr. Brown, for Bagnigge Wells; Mr. Braughton, for Sadler's Wells; and Mr. Smith, for Vauxhall. "Well now, Ma'am," said Mr. Smith, "we have all spoken, and so you must give the casting vote. Come, what will you fix upon?"
On returning, one of the gentlemen said: "Franklin, why can you not give us an exhibition of your antics in the water?" "Yes, Ben, do; let them see that what I have told them is literally true," entreated Wygate. "Come, Ben, do it," added Hall; "it will put Saltero's curiosities into the shade. These gentlemen will be so interested in your performances that they will forget all other curiosities."
The old great houses rise, shadowy and magnificent, above the modern terraces; Don Saltero's Coffee-House yet opens its hospitable doors; Sir Thomas More meditates again on Cheyne Walk; at dead of night the ghosts of ancient minuet tunes may be heard from the Rotunda of Ranelagh Gardens, though the new barracks stand upon its site; and along the modern streets you may fancy that if you saw the ladies with their hoop petticoats, and the gentlemen with their wigs and their three-cornered hats and swords, you would not be in the least astonished.
When this request was signified in English to the company, the painter instantly exclaimed, "By the Lard! they are not to be named of a day. And as for that matter, I would not give one corner of Saltero's coffee-house at Chelsea for all the trash he hath shown."
Smith contemptuously; "how came you to think the young lady would like to go to such a low place as that! But, pray, Ma'am, have you ever been to Don Saltero's at Chelsea?" "No, Sir." "No!-nay, then I must insist on having the pleasure of conducting you there before long. I assure you, Ma'am, many genteel people go, or else, I give you my word, I should not recommend it." "Pray, cousin," said Mr.
"Well, then, Tom,-Biddy, where have you a mind to go tonight? your aunt and Miss want to be abroad and amongst them." "Why, then, Papa," said Miss Branghton, "we'll go to Don Saltero's. Mr. Smith likes that place, so may be he'll go along with us." "No, no," said the son, "I'm for White-Conduit House; so let's go there." "White-Conduit House, indeed!" cried his sister; "no, Tom, that I won't."
The house had formerly a magnificent garden, to the mulberries of which Hazlitt makes allusion in one of his essays. No. 18 was the home of the famous Don Saltero's museum. This man, correctly Salter, was a servant of Sir Hans Sloane, and his collection was formed from the overflowings of his master's.
I refused; but March pressed me, and Comyn declared he had staked his reputation upon my horsemanship. Astley was a large man, about my build, and I donned a pair of his leather breeches and boots, and put Indian Chief to his paces around the ring. I found him no more restive, nor as much so, as Firefly. We all repaired afterwards for supper to Don Saltero's Coffee House and Museum in Chelsea.
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