A Night at the Ranelagh Gardens

Chinese lanterns were strung from the trees all the way along the chestnut alley; their incandescent glow a myriad of colors in the scented night air. Ranelagh was a special pleasure garden frequented by all classes of people as long as you could afford the two shillings entrance fee. It was the year 1750 and for some even two shillings was a price too high. For courtesan Amy and her friend Rose this was in fact the case. The two would hang around the entrance hoping to interest a gentleman that would pay for them. Two 'ladies of the night', they sought out the pleasures that would sustain them. It was their bread and butter. Amy, in a long, green, silk and taffeta dress with a bustle at the back and her hair carefully arranged in ringlets, and Rose in a black and pink spotted dress with her blonde hair swept back off her face, they made an attractive proposition to most men. Luckily it was a warm night tonight, a night in July, when there should be fun and frolics in the gardens.

Robert Sheridan was a fine looking man of twenty eight years of age that often frequented Ranelagh. He liked its salubrious air, its unusual entertainments, its convivial company. On his last visit he'd seen Vesuvius erupting and also Venus, the goddess, had emerged from a pearly shell. There had been a dancing bear too and a monkey had ascended into the sky in a red balloon. Tonight there were to be fireworks and a diorama of the story of Daphnis and Chloe.

On arriving at the entrance, Robert spotted the two young ladies.
"Why, brave Sir," said Amy, "my friend and I are sadly indisposed. We have lost our money on the way to the gardens. You couldn't help us, Sir, could you, and pay for us to accompany you?"
Robert, a fine young man, if a tad naive, was impressed by the imprecations of the two women and could only be a gentleman. He produced six shillings for the ticket man at the entrance and they entered the gardens.
"The same thing happened to me," said Robert, "when I was at Vauxhall, I lost my bill-fold."
"Why, thank you kindly, young sir," said Amy, and all the while Rose was trying to devise a way of relieving him of his money and his fine pocket watch that they could see hanging from a gold chain in his waistcoat.

Meanwhile, across the park, Widow Shawcross, a lovely young woman of thirty two summers was with her son of twelve summers, Robin. They were by the lake and Robin had his sail boat attached to a piece of string so he could pull it back when it sailed too far out. It was now that the orchestra in the Rotunda started to play and the music of Handel drifted out onto the night air. A thousand oil lamps glowed in the trees and cherry blossom scattered onto the paths with every lift of the breeze.

Rose, Amy and Robert Sheridan were now seated in one of the supper boxes and the women were indicating that they would like something to eat and drink. Robert, being a generous man, could only oblige. The diorama had started and they looked out to see the wonderful diaphonous pictures of Daphnis and Chloe in an admixture of rainbow colors, the beauteous colors of myth and fairytale. Widow Shawcross and her son Robin were now approaching another supper box, next to the one occupied by Robert and Amy and Rose, but as they were taking their seats Robin could see Rose relieve Robert of his bill-fold and tuck it down her dress. He told his mother what he saw, so Widow Shawcross and the boy then marched over to Robert and the courtesans.
"Those women are thieves, common harlots."
"What do you mean?" said Robert.
"Check your money," said Widow Shawcross, and of course when Robert did so he found his money missing.

Amy and Rose knew they were in trouble and got up to run. But Robin tripped up Amy and she fell flat on her face. Widow Shawcross grabbed at Rose and started pulling her hair. Meanwhile people near them could see what was happening and rushed over to help Widow Shawcross.
"You shameful hussies," someone said, "Ranelagh is for decent folks, not common harlots of the night. Get out and don't come back," and by now Widow Shawcross had fished out Robert's bill-fold from Rose's ample cleavage.

"Get the watchman," someone said, "and take these two thieves to the magistrates."
Robert was shocked, how stupid he was to have been so easily duped. But on seeing the beauty of Widow Shawcross in the glow of the lights, he thought he was in love. Widow Shawcross too, was taken with the handsome young beau and handed over the bill-fold. Robert was a rich man, he owned much property in London; how wonderful it would be to get to know this poor, young widow and her son. Such a meeting was auspicious for both of them, because that warm, summer night was to be the beginnings of a fine romance.

Just then a thousand fireworks lit up the night sky, a pyrotechnical display of magenta, yellow, cerise and emerald. The wonderful jewel colors of the rich life. A hundred balloons were then released and now the night sky was buzzing with a wonderful party atmosphere - the true spirit of Ranelagh.