John Cavanagh, the fives player (died 1819), whose exploits have been commemorated by William Hazlitt, sometimes found his way to the Rosemary Branch, though most of his matches took place in the neighbourhood at Copenhagen House. By trade he was a house-painter, and one day, putting on his best clothes, he strolled up to the gardens for an afternoon holiday. A stranger proposed to Cavanagh a match at fives for half a crown and a bottle of cider. The match began—7, 8, 10, 13, 14 all. Each game was hotly contested, but Cavanagh somehow just managed to win. ‘I never played better in my life,’ said the stranger, ‘and yet I can’t win a game. There, try that! That is a stroke that Cavanagh could not take.’ Still the play went on, and in the twelfth game the stranger was 13 to his opponent’s 4. He seemed, in fact, to be winning, when a new-comer among the bystanders exclaimed: ‘What! are _you_ there, Cavanagh?’ The amateur fives player let the ball drop from his hand, and refused to play another stroke, for all this time he had only ‘been breaking his heart to beat Cavanagh.’ {49} [Picture: The Tea-Gardens, Rosemary Branch, 1846] Early in the thirties, the proprietor, a Mr. McPherson, began to provide ‘gala nights’ for the inhabitants of the district, and advertised his ‘Branch’ as the Islington Vauxhall. In 1835 he is said to have spent £4,000 on the place, but for some mysterious reason chose this moment for retiring from business. In October, 1836, the gardens were offered for sale—three acres only, but provided with ‘elevated terrace-walks’ screened by trees, and with ground for rackets and skittles. The place was taken by a new proprietor, who continued the fireworks and illuminations, and introduced (1837) Mrs. Graham and her balloon, in which she ascended with the gallant Colonel of the Honourable Lumber Troop. [Picture: Admission Ticket, Rosemary Branch, 1853] A view of about the middle of the forties depicts the gardens as entirely surrounded by alcoves and trees, with two rope ascents and a pony race {50} going on in the arena simultaneously, like Barnum’s Circus. An admiring youth, a lady in an ample shawl and hat, and two gentlemen posed in the manner of tailors’ models, occupy the foreground, while a crowd of onlookers stand in front of the circle of boxes. Festoons of coloured lamps, a minute balloon, a small theatre, and an orchestra, are also symbolic of the attractions of the Islington Vauxhall.