The London stage was, however, still the object of his ambition; and in the summers of 1786 to 1789, he at length succeeded in procuring engagements at Vauxhall Gardens, which resulted in a great triumph. His singing of 'The Lass of Richmond Hill' was, especially, so popular, that copies of the song were sold at one shilling each, instead of the usual sixpence. Still, Vauxhall was not 'the stage;' and, indeed, the regular actors looked down upon the Vauxhall performers as being artists of an inferior rank, so that poor Incledon's engagement there rather retarded than hastened the gratification of his wishes. At length actors' jealousies and managers' reluctance all had to give way to the sheer force of Incledon's unsurpassable voice and growing fame; and on the 20th January, 1790,[46] he made his _début_ at Covent Garden in the character of Dermot in 'The Poor Soldier.' His engagement was for three years, at £6, £7, and £8 a week. The applause with which he was received was general and sincere; his success was assured; and he became, from his rollicking, generous, sailor-like disposition, a favourite, both before and behind the scenes. He was always either playing off practical jokes upon others, or becoming the butt of them himself; and the latter was notably the case whenever Incledon was about to take his 'benefit.' On these occasions he was always very anxious about his success, and so credulous, that he believed all that the theatrical wags told him. Inquiring on one occasion as to how the list of his patrons was progressing, he was informed that 'the Marquis of Piccadilly' had just taken some tickets, and that 'the Duke of Windsor' had written for a box. 'Ah!' says Incledon, 'he must be one of the Royal Family, I suppose.' He was further delighted--or seemed to be so--when he was told that 'Lord Highgate' and the 'Bishop of Gravesend' were also coming.