Forgotton London - the Folly of the Thames (Bookhounds, NBA)

On the Thames, off Somerset House, was a timber shed built on a strong barge, and called “the Folly.” In William III.’s reign it was anchored higher up the stream, near the Savoy. Tom Brown calls it “a musical summer-house." Its real name was “The Royal Diversion.” Queen Mary honoured it with her presence. It was at first frequented by “persons of quality,” but latterly it became disreputable, and its orchestra and refreshment alcoves were haunted by thieves, gamesters, and courtesans.

HAUNTED LONDON, by Walter Thornbury. 

"The Folly of the Thames", often just referred to as "The Folly", was a floating coffee house. Situated on the river Thames, opposite Somerset House, it was moored in London between the 17th and 18th century. Despite not being on land, the coffee house was hugely popular and in the evenings became a social hub where dancers performed waltzes and jigs.

NB: the Folly of the Thames also features tangentially in the Rivers of London, as a progenitor of the series' magical institute. 

The Folly resembled a large one-storied house, very long in proportion to its width, built upon an immense barge. There was a platform at the top, defended by a strong wooden balustrade, and flanked at each corner by a little wooden turret, with a pointed top, surmounted by a small streamer. These turrets constituted small drinking and smoking rooms, and were fitted up with seats and tables. In the centre of the structure was a sort of open belvidere, covering the main staircase leading to the roof. On this a large flag was planted. The Folly was approached from the water by steps on three sides. It was lighted by a range of large and handsome windows, and entered by two doors, one at the end, and the other at the side. Within, it contained a long music-hall, with a frescoed ceiling, gilded and painted walls, an orchestra, and the necessary complement of benches, chairs, and small tables. There was, moreover, a bar, where all sorts of liquors, materials for smoking, and other tavern luxuries were dispensed. The rest of the structure was divided into a number of small apartments for private parties, and in short, boasted every sort of accommodation afforded by a similar place of entertainment on shore. In summer it was delightful — the view of the Thames from its summit being enchanting. The coolness and freshness, combined with the enlivening influences of beauty, wine, and music, must have made it, on its first establishment, a charming place of recreation; and it cannot be wondered that the Merry Monarch and his merrier court, found it so much to their taste.

Similar situations could be created in Swords of the Serpentine, or any fantasy setting. It's a floating pleasure palace, after all; you could build one of those anywhere. 

In England the term coffee house has a special meaning, in the 17th and 18th century. People gather there, converse, exchange ideas. These are proto-clubs. Pubs and inns are where the other classes go; coffee houses are for those who have ideas. Hence the nickname penny university. You paid a penny to get in and then commenced your education.

It's not clear when the Folly on the Thames ceased to be. However, anything that lives permanently on a river will rot in short order if not looked after, and it's a reasonable bet that once the place became known as a resort of thieves and gamesters it stopped being looked after. Charles II, the Merry Monarch who popularized it, died in 1685. I'm going to hazard that the Folly went the way of all things in the early 1700s.  

However, London has a knack for remembering its past glories. 

Bookhounds: A Set of Engravings

The Hounds are made aware of a valuable lot coming up for auction. These engravings by an unknown artist feature the Great Frost and the fairs held on the Thames, and the most intriguing piece of the set is titled A Frozen Folly. It shows the coffee house locked by ice, with a dance taking place in its ballroom. Shadowy figures quadrille behind the frost-covered windows, while an amorous couple dally at the top of the little wooden turret. A devilish figure can be seen lurking at the other end of the roof platform. Mythos identifies it as a remarkably accurate depiction of a Nightgaunt. The complete set is worth about 1 point History; the Frozen Folly also confers 1 point Mythos, after careful study, not just of the Nightgaunt but also of the starry constellations seen above the coffee house.

One of the potential buyers is a megapolisomancer who, if allowed to purchase, will use the engravings to help their scheme of freezing over the Thames once again, for sinister purposes of their own. They draw on the power of Nodens to achieve this, plunging London into a dreamscape where all is frozen and silent.

Nights Black Agents: A Folly Reborn

A Node based in London (possibly linked with the Satanic Cult of Dracula) has recreated the Folly with a Thames-based restaurant, faithfully copying, among other things, the frescoed ceiling of the original. This classically-inspired artwork has, study will show, more than a few things in common with classical Satanism. Dark motifs and hideous meaning hide behind seeming mythological concepts. Its restaurant is working towards a Michelin star but its main attraction is its discreet gaming tables: poker and blackjack only. 

What isn't immediately obvious is, not only is it copying the original Folly, it has brought back a kind of demonic Merry Monarch. This begins as what seems to be a stuffed and comical doll called Charlie, which presides over the casino tables. People rub it for luck. As time goes by it acquires a sinister reputation and few can bear to touch it; they say it feels clammy, slimy, and its flesh seems to yield. Some say Charlie moves around when nobody's looking. Some say Charlie craves blood ... 

That's it for this week. Enjoy!