The Right Honourable Lady Mary Wortley Montagu Visits A Turkish Bath

Lady Montagu in Turkish dress. Jean-Étienne Liotard

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu was a prominent English – Oh, c’mon, it’s the awesome Lady Montagu! Writer, poet, traveler, free spirit, smallpox inoculation advocate. I was skimming through her book Letters Of The Right Honourable Lady M–Y W—Y M—-E: Written During Her Travels In Europe, Asia And Africa on an antique books website when the words “Turkish” and “hot baths” leaped off the screen.

Yeah, I’m going there in this post.

I couldn’t find many images of women by Turkish artists from the 1700s. So, I’ve used some stunning paintings by Swiss painter Jean-Étienne Liotard, who was enamored of Turkey. He painted this post’s feature image of Lady Montagu in Turkish attire.

Adrianople, April 1. O. S. 1717.

I am now got into a new world, where everything I see appears to me a change of scene; and I write to your ladyship with some content of mind, hoping, at least, that you will find the charms of novelty in my letters, and no longer reproach me, that I tell you nothing extraordinary. I won’t trouble you with a relation of our tedious journey; but must not omit what I saw remarkable at Sophia, one of the most beautiful towns in the Turkish empire, and famous for its hot baths, that are resorted to both for diversion and health. I stopped here one day, on purpose to see them; and, designing to go incognito, I hired a Turkish coach. These voitures are not at all like ours, but much more convenient for the country, the heat being so great, that glasses would be very troublesome. They are made a good deal in the manner of the Dutch stage-coaches, having wooden lattices painted and gilded; the inside being also painted with baskets and nosegays of flowers, intermixed commonly with little poetical mottos. They are covered all over with scarlet cloth, lined with silk, and very often richly embroidered and fringed. This covering entirely hides the persons in them, but may be thrown back at pleasure, and thus permits the ladies to peep through the lattices. They hold four people very conveniently, seated on cushions, but not raised.

Jean-Etienne Liotard – A Lady in Turkish Dress and Her Servant

In one of these covered waggons, I went to the bagnio about ten o’clock. It was already full of women. It is built of stone, in the shape of a dome, with no windows but in the roof, which gives light enough. There were five of these domes joined together, the outmost being less than the rest, and serving only as a hall, where the portress stood at the door. Ladies of quality generally give this woman a crown or ten shillings; and I did not forget that ceremony. The next room is a very large one paved with marble, and all round it are two raised sofas of marble, one above another. There were four fountains of cold water in this room, falling first into marble basons, and then running on the floor in little channels made for that purpose, which carried the streams into the next room, something less than this, with the same sort of marble sofas, but so hot with steams of sulphur proceeding from the baths joining to it, ’twas impossible to stay there with one’s cloaths on. The two other domes were the hot baths, one of which had cocks of cold water turning into it, to temper it to what degree of warmth the bathers pleased to have.

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres – The Turkish Bath 

I was in my travelling habit, which is a riding dress, and certainly appeared very extraordinary to them. Yet there was not one of them that shewed the least surprise or impertinent curiosity, but received me with all the obliging civility possible. I know no European court, where the ladies would have behaved themselves in so polite a manner to such a stranger. I believe, upon the whole, there were two hundred women, and yet none of those disdainful smiles, and satirical whispers, that never fail in our assemblies, when any body appears that is not dressed exactly in the fashion. They repeated over and over to me; “UZELLE, PEK UZELLE,” which is nothing but, Charming, very Charming.

The first sofas were covered with cushions and rich carpets, on which sat the ladies; and on the second, their slaves behind them, but without any distinction of rank by their dress, all being in the state of nature, that is, in plain English, stark naked, without any beauty or defect concealed. Yet there was not the least wanton smile or immodest gesture amongst them. They walked and moved with the same majestic grace, which Milton describes our general mother with. There were many amongst them, as exactly proportioned as ever any goddess was drawn by the pencil of a Guido or Titian,—and most of their skins shiningly white, only adorned by their beautiful hair divided into many tresses, hanging on their shoulders, braided either with pearl or ribbon, perfectly representing the figures of the Graces.

Jean-Baptiste Vanmour: Turkish Men and Women

I was here convinced of the truth of a reflection I have often made, That if it were the fashion to go naked, the face would be hardly observed. I perceived, that the ladies of the most delicate skins and finest shapes had the greatest share of my admiration, though their faces were sometimes less beautiful than those of their companions. To tell you the truth, I had wickedness enough, to wish secretly, that Mr Gervais could have been there invisible. I fancy it would have very much improved his art, to see so many fine women naked, in different postures, some in conversation, some working, others drinking coffee or sherbet, and many negligently lying on their cushions, while their slaves (generally pretty girls of seventeen or eighteen) were employed in braiding their hair in several pretty fancies. In short, ’tis the women’s coffee-house, where all the news of the town is told, scandal invented, &c.

Enjoying Coffee

They generally take this diversion once a week, and stay there at least four or five hours, without getting cold by immediate coming out of the hot bath into the cold room, which was very surprising to me. The lady, that seemed the most considerable among them, entreated me to sit by her, and would fain have undressed me for the bath. I excused myself with some difficulty. They being however all so earnest in persuading me, I was at last forced to open my shirt, and shew them my stays; which satisfied them very well; for, I saw, they believed I was locked up in that machine, and that it was not in my own power to open it, which contrivance they attributed to my husband.

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres. Painting inspired by Lady Montagu’s book

I was charmed with their civility and beauty, and should have been very glad to pass more time with them; but Mr W—— resolving to pursue his journey next morning early, I was in haste to see the ruins of Justinian’s church, which did not afford me so agreeable a prospect as I had left, being little more than a heap of stones.

Adieu, madam, I am sure I have now entertained you with an account of such a sight as you never saw in your life, and what no book of travels could inform you of, as ’tis no less than death for a man to be found in one of these places.

Jean Etienne Lìotard – Portrait of Maria Adelaide of France in Turkish-style clothes

Late Georgian Tea Gardens

I can’t recall why I was skimming through The Picture of London for 1804. As with most of my random, chaotic research, I didn’t find what I was seeking but instead stumbled upon something else: a listing of London tea gardens. Tea gardens! What a wondrous thing! My curiosity was piqued.

Despite writing historicals, I could never imagine myself in Regency or Victorian England. I have too much of a fondness for soft knit clothes, slang talk, and lounging about. However, I can envision myself in a tea garden, casually strolling about the flowers while chatting with friends.

Tea gardens, frequented by the middle classes, were humbler versions of pleasure gardens. They were known for tea, of course, as well as food and for providing venues for sports and concerts. Most were located in the green spaces outside London, which in those days wasn’t very far away. In The Amusements Of Old London William Biggs Boulton writes, “When George the Third came to the throne, London, including Westminster, was bounded by Oxford Street and Holborn on the north, by the river on the south, by the outer boundary of the city on the east, and by Hyde Park, Arlington Street, and St. James’ Street on the west. All the rest of modern London was suburban merely, or open and pleasant country interspersed with wild heaths, and dotted with ancient villages.”

Below I’ve excerpted some of the recommended tea gardens found in The Picture of London for 1804 and some tidbits from other books. I added some illustrations from those sources, but I struggled to find paintings of tea gardens, so I inserted images of Georgian-era people in outdoor settings.

Bagnigge Wells Tea Gardens, near Cold-bath-fields.
An elegantly finished place. In one of the rooms there is a good organ, regularly played every afternoon, Sundays excepted.


In The Book of Days, Robert Chamber’s writes,

The gardens at that time were extensive, and laid out in the old-fashioned manner, clipped trees, walks in formal lines, and a profusion of leadened statues. A fountain was placed centre, as shown in our cut. A Dutch Cupid half-choking a swan was the brilliant idea it shadowed forth. The roof of the temple is seen above trees to the left; it was a circular domed colonnade formed by a double row of pillars and pilasters; in its centre was a double pump one piston supconcert plying the chalybeate the other the cathartic water; it was encircled by a low balustrade. A grotto was the other great feature of the garden; it was a little castellated building of irregular hexagonal form, covered with shells, stones, glass, & c forming two apartments open to the gardens. They were drunk for the charge of threepence person or delivered from the pump-room at pence per gallon. As a noted place for tea drinking it is frequently alluded to by authors of the century. In the prologue to Colman’s comedy Bon Ton 1776 a vulgar city-madam from Spitalfields thus defines that phrase:

Bone Tone’s the space twix’t Saturday and Monday,
And riding in a one-horse chair on Sunday,
‘Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons
At Bagnigge Wells with china and gilt spoons

White Conduit-house Tea Gardens
Many years famous for the hot rolls peculiar to it. A delightful situation in summer, and has to boast of the finest toned organ in England for the size. Good wines, &c.

In Curiosities of London, John Timbs writes,

“A description the place [White Conduit House] in 1774 presents a general picture of the Tea Garden of that period : “The garden is formed into walks, prettily disposed. At the end of the principal one is a painting, which seems to render it (the walk) longer in appearance than it really is. In the centre of the garden is a fish pond. There are boxes for company, curiously cut into hedges, adorned with Flemish and other paintings. There are two handsome tea-rooms, one over the other, and several inferior ones in the house.” The fish-pond was soon after filled up, and its site planted, the paintings removed, and a new dancing and tea tea saloon, called the Apollo-room, built. In 1826, the gardens were opened as a “ Minor Vanxhall;” and here Mrs. Bland, the charming vocalist, last sang in public. In 1829, the small house, the original tavern, was taken down, and rebuilt upon a more extensive plan, so as to dine upwards of 2000 persons in its largest room. But in 1849 these premises wore also taken down ; the tavern was re-erected on a smaller scale, and the garden-ground let on building leases for White Conduit-street, &c.

In The Book of Days, Robert Chamber’s writes,

[The] cut represents the aspect of both buildings, as they stood in 1827. The conduit was then in a pitiable state of neglect — denuded of the outer case of stone, a mere core of rubble the house was a low roofed building, with a row of clipped trees in front, and a large garden in the rear, well supplied with arbours all round for tea drinking; and such was its popularity at the commencement of this century that fifty pounds was often taken on a Sunday afternoon for sixpenny tea-tickets. Its bread was as popular as the buns of Chelsea and White Conduit loaves was a London cry, listened for by such old ladies as wished to furnish a tea-table luxury to their friends. On week-days, it was a kind of minor Vauxhall, with singing and fire-works on great occasions; the ascent of a balloon crowded the gardens, and collected thousands of persons in the fields around. It was usual for London ‘roughs’ to assemble in large numbers in these fields for foot ball play on Easter Monday; occasionally the fun was diversified by Irish faction fights.”

Hornsey-wood-house for Tea Gardens.
A most interesting place, celebrated for the peculiar beauty of the wood adjoining. As no expense has been spared to render this an elegant house of accommodation, it stands first on the list of places of this description. Dinners provided for large parties.

Willoughby’s Tea Gardens, &c. usually known by the name of Highbury Barn.
A very pleasant place in summer, where parties are accommodated with dinners or tea, hot rolls, liquors, &c. on reasonable terins.

Chalk Farm, near Hampstead.
A house of the above description, where parties meet also for convivial entertainment every afternoon in the summer season.

In Curiosities of London, John Timbs writes,

Chalk Farm, corrupted from the old village of Chalcot, shown in Camden’s map, was another noted tea-garden. This was *the White House,’’ to which, in 1678, body of Sir Edmund Herry Godfrey was carried, after it had been found, about two fields distant, upon the south side of Primrose Hill. Several duels have been fought here: here John Scott (of the London Magazine) was shot by Mr. Christie, Feb. 16, 1821; and the poet Moore, and Jeffrey, of the Edinburgh Review, met in 1806. Chalk Farm now gives name to the railway station here.

Canonbury-louse, near Islington.
Frequented in the summer-time by tea-drinking parties, who are comfortably accommodated, on reasonable terms. Large dinner parties provided for.

Hoxton Tea Gardens, Hoxton-square.
Upon the same plan, has a good room, with a neat orchestra, and a small organ, Tea, wines, &c.

Yorkshire Stingo Tea Garden, Lisson-green, New-road, Paddington.
A house many years celebrated for rustic sports on May-day. Wines, Ales &c.

In The Book of Days, Robert Chamber’s writes,

Pursuing the road toward Paddington ‘The Yorkshire Stingo’ opposite Lisson Grove, invited wayfarer to its tea garden and bowling green; it was much crowded on Sundays when an admission fee of sixpence was demanded at the doors. For that a ticket was given, to be exchanged with the waiters for its value in refreshments; a plan very adopted in these gardens to prevent the intrusion of the lowest classes, or of such as might only stroll about them without spending anything. The Edgeware Road would point the way to Kilburn Wells, which an advertisement of 1773 assures us were then ‘in the utmost perfection the gardens enlarged and greatly improved the great room being particularly adapted to the use and amusement of the politest companies, fit for either music dancing or entertainment.”

‘The Monster’ and ‘Jenny’s Whim’ in the fields near Chelsea. Walpole, in one of his letters, says that at Vauxhall he ‘picked up Lord Granby, arrived very drunk from Jenny’s Whim.’ Angelo, in his Pic-nic or Table talk describes it as a tea garden situated after passing a wooden bridge on the left previous to entering the long avenue, the coach way to where Ranelagh once stood. This place was much frequented from its novelty, being an inducement to allure the curious by its amusing deceptions particularly on their first appearance there. Here was a large garden, in different parts of which were recesses; and treading on a spring, taking you by surprise, up started different figures, some ugly enough to frighten you; like a Harlequin, Mother Shipton, or some terrific animal. In a large piece of water, facing the tea alcoves, large fish or mermaids were shewing themselves above the surface. This queer spectacle was kept by a famous mechanist, who had been employed at one of the winter theatres. The water served less reputable purposes in 1755 when according to a notice in The Connoisseur it was devoted to ‘the royal diversion of duckhunting.’

Adam and Eve Tea Garden, Sc. Tottenham-court-road.
Similar to the above. A small organ in the room upstairs, where tea, wine, and punch are regularly served.

In Curiosities of London, John Timbs writes,

Toten Hall, at the north west extremity of Tottenham-court-road, was the ancient court house of that manor, and subsequently a place of public entertainment. In the parish books of St Giles’s in the Fields year 1645 is an entry of Mrs Stacye’s maid and others being fined for drinking at Tottenhall Court on the Sabbath daie, xijd a piece.” The premises next became the Adam and Eve Tea Gardens before the house is laid the scene of Hogarth’s March to Finchley; and in the grounds May 16 1785, Lunardi fell with his burst balloon, and was but slightly injured. The Gardens were much frequented but the place falling into disrepute, the music house was taken down, and upon the site of the Skittle-grounds and Gardens was built Eden street, Hampstead road, the public house being rebuilt.

Adam and Eve Tea Garden, &c. St. Pancras.
A pleasant distance from town, where is an excellent bowling green, and a regular company meet in summer, in the afternoon, to play at bowls and trap-ball. A very good room for parties to dine, drink tea, &c.

Camberwell-grove House and Tea Garden.
A very comfortable place, where there is a good bowling green, and such excellent accommodation as is usual to places of this description.

The Montpellier Tea Garden, Walworth, near Camberwell.
A compact place, something similar to the above, and noted for a small maze at the bottom of the garden. Tea, hot rolls, good wines, spirituous liquors, &c. Large parties provided for.

Bermondsey Spa, Southwark.
Conducted upon a pian something similar to Vauxhall. By paying one shilling the visitor is entitled to the amusement of the evening, which consists of a concert of vocal and instrumental music, and frequently of fireworks. There are some very decent paintings; and among them an excellent butcher’s shop, by the late Mr. Keys, who was unrivalled in this species of painting. Parties are accommodated with tea, wines, and good suppers.

Mermaid Tea Gardens, Hackney.
An ordinary on Sundays; a good larder, wines, &c. with an assembly room.

Cumberland Tea Gardens, Vauxhall.
In addition to the garden, this place has to boast of one of the pleasantest rooms near the metropolis. It is situated on the banks of the Thames, and commands a delightful view of that beautiful river, and of the places adjacent.

The Sluice House, near Hornsey.
Celebrated for eel pies, excellent tea, and hot rolls.

Marlborough Tea Gardens, near Sloane-square, Chelsea.
Diners, tea, &c. An excellent cricket ground.


For even more information on tea gardens visit Jane Austen’s World.