In the summer of 1755 entertainments of the old character were revived, but they were advertised as fifteen private evening concerts and fireworks, open only to subscribers, a one guinea ticket admitting two persons. It is to be suspected that the subscription was mythical, and was a mere device to evade the Act. However, a band was engaged, and on June 23 loyal visitors to Cuper’s commemorated the accession of King George to the throne by a concert and fireworks. Clitherow, who had been the engineer of Cuper’s fireworks from 1750 (or earlier), was again employed, but had to publish in the newspapers a lame apology for the failure of the Engagement on the Water on the night of August 2 (1755), a failure which he explained was not due to his want of skill but “owing to part of the machinery for moving the shipping being clogg’d by some unaccountable accident, and the powder in the ships having unfortunately got a little damp.” From 1756–1759 Cuper’s Gardens were again used as the tea-garden of the Feathers. There was no longer a Band of Musick but (as the advertisements express it) “there still remains some harmony from the sweet enchanting sounds of rural warblers.” The last recorded entertainment at the place was a special concert given on August 30, 1759 by “a select number of gentlemen for their own private diversion,” who had “composed an ode alluding to the late decisive action of Prince Ferdinand.” Any lady or gentleman inspired by Prussian glory was admitted to this entertainment on payment of a shilling. For several years the gardens remained unoccupied, but from about 1768 three acres of them were leased to the firm of Beaufoy, the producers of British wines and vinegar. The orchestra, or rather the edifice used from 1750 for the fireworks, was utilised for the distillery. Dr. Johnson once passed by the gardens: “Beauclerk, I, and Langton, and Lady Sydney Beauclerk, mother to our friend, were one day driving in a coach by Cuper’s Gardens which were then unoccupied. I, in sport, proposed that Beauclerk, and Langton, and myself, should take them, and we amused ourselves with scheming how we should all do our parts. Lady Sydney grew angry and said, ‘An old man should not put such things in young people’s heads.’ She had no notion of a joke, sir; had come late into life, and had a mighty unpliable understanding.”[282] [Illustration: PLAN OF CUPER’S GARDENS.]