was opened about 1730, and is described as a "Midnight Concert Room,"
in _Adventures Underground_, 1750. Professor Porson was a great lover
of cider, the patronymic drink for which the cellar was once famed; it
became his nightly haunt, for wherever he spent the evening, he
finished the night at the Cider Cellar. One night, in 1795, as he sat
here smoking his pipe, with his friend George Gordon, he abruptly said,
"Friend George, do you think the widow Lunan an agreeable sort of
personage, as times go?" Gordon assented. "In that case," replied
Porson, "you must meet me to-morrow morning at St. Martin's-in-the-Fields,
at eight o'clock;" and without saying more, Porson paid his reckoning,
and went home. Next morning, Gordon repaired to the church, and there
found Porson with Mrs. Lunan and a female friend, and the parson
waiting to begin the ceremony. The service being ended, the bride and
her friend retired by one door of the church, and Porson and Gordon by
another. The bride and bridegroom dined together with friends, but
after dinner Porson contrived to slip away, and passed the rest of the
day with a learned friend, and did not leave till the family were
about to retire for the night, when Porson adjourned to the Cider
Cellar, and there stayed till eight o'clock next morning. One of his
companions here is said to have shouted before Porson, "Dick can beat
us all: he can drink all night and spout all day," which greatly
pleased the Professor.
We remember the place not many years after Porson's death, when it
was, as its name implied, _a cellar_, and the fittings were rude and
rough: over the mantelpiece was a large mezzotint portrait of Porson,
framed and glazed, which we take to be the missing portrait named by
the Rev. Mr. Watson, in his Life of the Professor. The Cider Cellar
was subsequently enlarged; but its exhibitions grew to be too
sensational for long existence.
OFFLEY'S, HENRIETTA-STREET.
This noted tavern, of our day, enjoyed great and deserved celebrity,
though short-lived. It was No. 23, on the south side of
Henrietta-street, Covent Garden, and its fame rested upon Burton ale,
and the largest supper-room in this theatrical neighbourhood; with no
pictures, placards, paper-hangings, or vulgar coffee-room finery, to
disturb one's relish of the good things there provided. Offley, the
proprietor, was originally at Bellamy's, and "as such, was privileged
to watch, and occasionally admitted to assist, the presiding priestess
of the gridiron at the exercise of her mysteries." Offley's chop was
thick and substantial; the House of Commons' chop was small and thin,
and honourable Members sometimes ate a dozen at a sitting. Offley's
chop was served with shalots shred, and warmed in gravy, and
accompanied by nips of Burton ale, and was a delicious after-theatre
supper. The large room at that hour was generally crowded with a
higher class of men than are to be seen in taverns of the present day.
There was excellent dining up-stairs, with wines really worth
drinking--all with a sort of Quakerly plainness, but solid comfort.
The fast men came to the great room, where the _spécialité_ was
singing by amateurs upon one evening of the week; and to prevent the
chorus waking the dead in their cerements in the adjoining churchyard,
the coffee-room window was double. The "professionals" stayed away.
Francis Crew sang Moore's melodies, then in their zenith; sometimes,
in a spirit of waggery, an amateur would sing "Chevy Chase" in full;
and now and then Offley himself trolled out one of Captain Morris's
lyrics. Such was this right joyously convivial place some
five-and-forty years since upon the singing night. Upon other
evenings, there came to a large round table (a sort of privileged
place) a few well-to-do, substantial tradesmen from the neighbourhood,
among whom was the renowned surgical-instrument maker from the Strand,
who had the sagacity to buy the iron from off the piles of old London
Bridge, and convert it (after it had lain for centuries under water)
into some of the finest surgical instruments of the day. Offley's,
however, declined: the singing was discontinued; Time had thinned the
ranks and groups of the bright and buoyant; the large room was mostly
frequented by quiet, orderly persons, who kept good hours; the
theatre-suppers grew few and far between; the merry old host
departed,--when it was proposed to have his portrait painted--but in
vain; success had ebbed away, and at length the house was closed.[39]
Offley's was sketched with a free hand, in _Horæ Offleanæ, Bentley's
Miscellany_, March, 1841.
FOOTNOTE:
[39] Walks and Talks about London, 1865, pp. 180-182.
THE RUMMER TAVERN.
The locality of this noted tavern is given by Cunningham, as "two
doors from Locket's, between Whitehall and Charing Cross, removed to
the water-side of Charing Cross, in 1710, and burnt down Nov. 7th,
1750. It was kept in the reign of Charles II., by Samuel Prior, uncle
of Matthew Prior, the poet, who thus wrote to Fleetwood Shephard:
"My uncle, rest his soul! when living,
Might have contriv'd me ways of thriving:
Taught me with cider to replenish
My vats, or ebbing tide of Rhenish.
So when for hock I drew prickt white-wine,
Swear't had the flavour, and was right wine."
The Rummer is introduced by Hogarth into his picture of "Night." Here
Jack Sheppard committed his first robbery by stealing two silver
spoons.
The Rummer, in Queen-street, was kept by Brawn, a celebrated cook, of
whom Dr. King, in his _Art of Cookery_, speaks in the same way as
Kit-Kat and Locket.
King, also, in his _Analogy between Physicians, Cooks, and
Playwrights_, thus describes a visit:--
"Though I seldom go out of my own lodgings, I was prevailed on the
other day to dine with some friends at the Rummer in Queen-street....
Sam Trusty would needs have me go with him into the kitchen, and see
how matters went there.... He assured me that Mr. Brawn had an art,
etc. I was, indeed, very much pleased and surprised with the
extraordinary splendour and economy I observed there; but above all
with the great readiness and dexterity of the man himself. His motions
were quick, but not precipitate; he in an instant applied himself from
one stove to another, without the least appearance of hurry, and in
the midst of smoke and fire preserved an incredible serenity of
countenance."
Beau Brummel, according to Mr. Jesse, spoke with a relish worthy a
descendant of "the Rummer," of the savoury pies of his aunt Brawn, who
then resided at Kilburn; she is said to have been the widow of a
grandson of the celebrity of Queen-street, who had himself kept the
public-house at the old Mews Gate, at Charing Cross.--See _Notes and
Queries_, 2nd S., no. xxxvi.
We remember an old tavern, "the Rummer," in 1825, which was taken down
with the lower portion of St. Martin's-lane, to form Trafalgar-square.
SPRING GARDEN TAVERNS.
Spring Garden is named from its water-spring or fountain, set playing
by the spectator treading upon its hidden machinery--an eccentricity
of the Elizabethan garden. Spring Garden, by a patent which is extant,
in 1630 was made a bowling-green by command of Charles I. "There was
kept in it an ordinary of six shillings a meal (when the king's
proclamation allows but two elsewhere); continual bibbing and drinking
wine all day under the trees; two or three quarrels every week. It was
grown scandalous and insufferable; besides, my Lord Digby being
reprehended for striking in the king's garden, he said he took it for
a common bowling-place, where all paid money for their coming
in."--_Mr. Garrard to Lord Strafford._
In 1634 Spring Garden was put down by the King's command, and ordered
to be hereafter no common bowling-place. This led to the opening of "a
New Spring Garden" (Shaver's Hall), by a gentleman-barber, a servant
of the lord chamberlain's. The old garden was, however, re-opened; for
13th June, 1649, says Evelyn, "I treated divers ladies of my
relations in Spring Gardens;" but 10th May, 1654, he records that
Cromwell and his partisans had shut up and seized on Spring Gardens,
"w'ch till now had been ye usual rendezvous for the ladys and
gallants at this season."
Spring Garden was, however, once more re-opened; for, in _A Character
of England_, 1659, it is described as "The inclosure not disagreeable,
for the solemnness of the grove, the warbling of the birds, and as it
opens into the spacious walks at St. James's.... It is usual to find
some of the young company here till midnight; and the thickets of the
garden seem to be contrived to all advantages of gallantry, after they
have refreshed with the collation, which is here seldom omitted, at a
certain cabaret in the middle of this paradise, where the forbidden
fruits are certain trifling tarts, neats' tongues, salacious meats,
and bad Rhenish."
"The New Spring Garden" at Lambeth (afterwards Vauxhall) was
flourishing in 1661-3; when the ground at Charing Cross was built
upon, as "Inner Spring Garden" and "Outer Spring Garden."
Buckingham-court is named from the Duke of Buckingham, one of the
rakish frequenters of the Garden; and upon the site of Drummond's
banking-house was "Locket's Ordinary, a house of entertainment much
frequented by gentry," and a relic of the Spring Garden gaiety:
"For Locket's stands where gardens once did spring."
Dr. King's _Art of Cookery_, 1709.
Here the witty and beautiful dramatist, Mrs. Centlivre, died, December
1, 1723, at the house of her third husband, Joseph Centlivre, "Yeoman
of the Mouth" (head cook) "to Queen Anne."[40] In her Prologue to
_Love's Contrivances_, 1703, we have
"At Locket's, Brown's, and at Pontack's enquire
What modish kickshaws the nice beaux desire,
What famed ragouts, what new invented sallad,
Has best pretensions to regain the palate."
Locket's was named from its first landlord:[41] its fame declined in
the reign of Queen Anne, and expired early in the next reign.
FOOTNOTES:
[40] Curiosities of London, pp. 678, 679.
[41] Edward Locket, in 1693, took the Bowling-green House, on Putney
Heath, where all gentlemen might be entertained. In a house built on
the site of the above, died, Jan. 23, 1806, the Rt. Hon. William Pitt.
"HEAVEN" AND "HELL" TAVERNS, WESTMINSTER.
At the north end of Lindsay-lane, upon the site of the Committee-rooms
of the House of Commons, was a tavern called "Heaven;" and under the
old Exchequer Chamber were two subterraneous passages called "Hell"
and "Purgatory." Butler, in _Hudibras_, mentions the first as
"False Heaven at the end of the Hell;"
Gifford, in his notes on Ben Jonson, says: "Heaven and Hell were two
common alehouses, abutting on Westminster Hall. Whalley says that they
were standing in his remembrance. They are mentioned together with a
third house, called Purgatory, in a grant which I have read, dated in
the first year of Henry VII."
Old Fuller quaintly says of Hell: "I could wish it had another name,
seeing it is ill jesting with edged tools. I am informed that formerly
this place was appointed a prison for the King's debtors, who never
were freed thence until they had paid their uttermost due demanded of
them. This proverb is since applied to moneys paid into the Exchequer,
which thence are irrecoverable, upon what plea or pretence whatever."
Peacham describes Hell as a place near Westminster Hall, "where very
good meat is dressed all the term time;" and the Company of Parish
Clerks add, it is "very much frequented by lawyers." According to Ben
Jonson, Hell appears to have been frequented by lawyers' clerks; for,
in his play of the _Alchemist_, Dapper is forbidden
"To break his fast in Heaven or Hell."
Hugh Peters, on his Trial, tells us that he went to Westminster to
find out some company to dinner with him, and having walked about an
hour in Westminster Hall, and meeting none of his friends to dine with
him, he went "to that place called Heaven, and dined there."
When Pride "purged" the Parliament, on Dec. 6, 1648, the forty-one he
excepted were shut up for the night in the Hell tavern, kept by a Mr.
Duke (_Carlyle_); and which Dugdale calls "their great victualling-house
near Westminster Hall, where they kept them all night without any
beds."
Pepys, in his _Diary_, thus notes his visit: "28 Jan. 1659-60. And so
I returned and went to Heaven, where Ludlin and I dined." Six years
later, at the time of the Restoration, four days before the King
landed, in one of these taverns, Pepys spent the evening with Locke
and Purcell, hearing a variety of brave Italian and Spanish songs, and
a new canon of Locke's on the words, "Domine salvum fac Regem." "Here,
out of the windows," he says, "it was a most pleasant sight to see the
City, from one end to the other, with a glory about it, so high was
the light of the bonfires, and thick round the City, and the bells
rang everywhere."
After all, "Hell" may have been so named from its being a prison of
the King's debtors, most probably a very bad one: it was also called
the Constabulary. Its Wardenship was valued yearly at the sum of
11_s._, and Paradise at 4_l._
Purgatory appears also to have been an ancient prison, the keys of
which, attached to a leathern girdle, says Walcot's _Westminster_, are
still preserved. Herein were kept the ducking-stools for scolds, who
were placed in a chair fastened on an iron pivot to the end of a long
pole, which was balanced at the middle upon a high trestle, thus
allowing the culprit's body to be _ducked_ in the Thames.
"BELLAMY'S KITCHEN."
In a pleasantly written book, entitled _A Career in the Commons_, we
find this sketch of the singular apartment, in the vicinity of the
(Old) House of Commons called "the Kitchen." "Mr. Bellamy's beer may
be unexceptionable, and his chops and steaks may be unrivalled, but
the legislators of England delight in eating a dinner in the place
where it is cooked, and in the presence of the very fire where the
beef hisses and the gravy runs! Bellamy's kitchen seems, in fact, a
portion of the British Constitution. A foreigner, be he a Frenchman,
American, or Dutchman, if introduced to the 'kitchen,' would stare
with astonishment if you told him that in this plain apartment, with
its immense fire, meatscreen, gridirons, and a small tub under the
window for washing the glasses, the statesmen of England very often
dine, and men, possessed of wealth untold, and with palaces of their
own, in which luxury and splendour are visible in every part, are
willing to leave their stately dining-halls and powdered attendants,
to be waited upon, while eating a chop in Bellamy's kitchen, by two
unpretending old women. Bellamy's kitchen, I repeat, is part and
parcel of the British Constitution. Baronets who date from the
Conquest, and squires of every degree, care nothing for the unassuming
character of the 'kitchen,' if the steak be hot and good, if it can be
quickly and conveniently dispatched, and the tinkle of the
division-bell can be heard while the dinner proceeds. Call England a
proud nation, forsooth! Say that the House of Commons is aristocratic!
Both the nation and its representatives must be, and are,
unquestionable patterns of republican humility, if all the pomp and
circumstance of dining can be forgotten in Bellamy's kitchen!"[42]
FOOTNOTE:
[42] At the noted Cat and Bagpipes tavern, at the south-west corner of
Downing-street, George Rose used to eat his mutton-chop; he
subsequently became Secretary to the Treasury.
A COFFEE-HOUSE CANARY-BIRD.
Of "a great Coffee-house" in Pall Mall we find the following amusing
story, in the _Correspondence of Gray and Mason_, edited by Mitford:
"In the year 1688, my Lord Peterborough had a great mind to be well
with Lady Sandwich, Mrs. Bonfoy's old friend. There was a woman who
kept a great Coffee-house in Pall Mall, and she had a miraculous
canary-bird that piped twenty tunes. Lady Sandwich was fond of such
things, had heard of and seen the bird. Lord Peterborough came to the
woman, and offered her a large sum of money for it; but she was rich,
and proud of it, and would not part with it for love or money.
However, he watched the bird narrowly, observed all its marks and
features, went and bought just such another, sauntered into the
coffee-room, took his opportunity when no one was by, slipped the
wrong bird into the cage and the right into his pocket, and went off
undiscovered to make my Lady Sandwich happy. This was just about the
time of the Revolution; and, a good while after, going into the same
coffee-house again, he saw his bird there, and said, 'Well, I reckon
you would give your ears now that you had taken my money.' 'Money!'
says the woman, 'no, nor ten times that money now, dear little
creature! for, if your lordship will believe me (as I am a Christian,
it is true), it has moped and moped, and never once opened its pretty
lips since the day that the poor king went away!"
STAR AND GARTER, PALL MALL. FATAL DUEL.
Pall Mall has long been noted for its taverns, as well as for its
chocolate- and coffee-houses, and "houses for clubbing." They were
resorted to by gay nobility and men of estate; and, in times when
gaming and drinking were indulged in to frightful excess, these
taverns often proved hot-beds of quarrel and fray. One of the most
sanguinary duels on record--that between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord
Mohun--was planned at the Queen's Arms, in Pall Mall, and the Rose in
Covent Garden; at the former, Lord Mohun supped with his second on the
two nights preceding the fatal conflict in Hyde Park.
Still more closely associated with Pall Mall was the fatal duel
between Lord Byron and Mr. Chaworth, which was _fought in a room_ of
the Star and Garter, when the grand-uncle of the poet Lord killed in a
duel, or rather scuffle, his relation and neighbour, "who was run
through the body, and died next day." The duellists were neighbours in
the country, and were members of the Nottinghamshire Club, which met
at the Star and Garter once a month.
The meeting at which arose the unfortunate dispute that produced the
duel, was on the 26th of January, 1765, when were present Mr. John
Hewet, who sat as chairman; the Hon. Thomas Willoughby; Frederick
Montagu, John Sherwin, Francis Molyneux, Esqrs., and Lord Byron;
William Chaworth, George Donston, and Charles Mellish, junior, Esq.;
and Sir Robert Burdett; who were all the company. The usual hour of
dining was soon after four, and the rule of the Club was to have the
bill and a bottle brought in at seven. Till this hour all was jollity
and good-humour; but Mr. Hewet, happening to start some conversation
about the best method of preserving game, setting the laws for that
purpose out of the question, Mr. Chaworth and Lord Byron were of
different opinions; Mr. Chaworth insisting on severity against
poachers and unqualified persons; and Lord Byron declaring that the
way to have most game was to take no care of it at all. Mr. Chaworth,
in confirmation of what he had said, insisted that Sir Charles Sedley
and himself had more game on five acres than Lord Byron had on all his
manors. Lord Byron, in reply, proposed a bet of 100 guineas, but this
was not laid. Mr. Chaworth then said, that were it not for Sir Charles
Sedley's care, and his own, Lord Byron would not have a hare on his
estate; and his Lordship asking with a smile, what Sir Charles
Sedley's manors were, was answered by Mr. Chaworth,--Nuttall and
Bulwell. Lord Byron did not dispute Nuttall, but added, Bulwell was
his; on which Mr. Chaworth, with some heat, replied: "If you want
information as to Sir Charles Sedley's manors, he lives at Mr.
Cooper's, in Dean Street, and, I doubt not, will be ready to give you
satisfaction; and, as to myself, your Lordship knows where to find me,
in Berkeley Row."
The subject was now dropped; and little was said, when Mr. Chaworth
called to settle the reckoning, in doing which the master of the
tavern observed him to be flurried. In a few minutes, Mr. Chaworth
having paid the bill, went out, and was followed by Mr. Donston, whom
Mr. C. asked if he thought he had been short in what he had said; to
which Mr. D. replied, "No; he had gone rather too far upon so trifling
an occasion, but did not believe that Lord Byron or the company would
think any more of it." Mr. Donston then returned to the club-room.
Lord Byron now came out, and found Mr. Chaworth still on the stairs:
it is doubtful whether his Lordship called upon Mr. Chaworth, or Mr.
Chaworth called upon Lord Byron; but both went down to the first
landing-place--having dined upon the second floor--and both called a
waiter to show an empty room, which the waiter did, having first
opened the door, and placed a small tallow-candle, which he had in his
hand, on the table; he then retired, when the gentlemen entered, and
shut the door after them.
In a few minutes the affair was decided: the bell was rung, but by
whom is uncertain: the waiter went up, and perceiving what had
happened, ran down very frightened, told his master of the
catastrophe, when he ran up to the room, and found the two antagonists
standing close together: Mr. Chaworth had his sword in his left hand,
and Lord Byron his sword in his right; Lord Byron's left hand was
round Mr. Chaworth, and Mr. Chaworth's right hand was round Lord
Byron's neck, and over his shoulder. Mr. C. desired Mr. Fynmore, the
landlord, to take his sword, and Lord B. delivered up his sword at the
same moment: a surgeon was sent for, and came immediately. In the
meantime, six of the company entered the room; when Mr. Chaworth said
that "he could not live many hours; that he forgave Lord Byron, and
hoped the world would; that the affair had passed in the dark, only a
small tallow-candle burning in the room; that Lord Byron asked him, if
he addressed the observation on the game to Sir Charles Sedley, or to
him?--to which he replied, 'If you have anything to say, we had better
shut the door;' that while he was doing this, Lord Byron bid him draw,
and in turning he saw his Lordship's sword half-drawn, on which he
whipped out his own sword and made the first pass; that the sword
being through my Lord's waistcoat, he thought that he had killed him;
and, asking whether he was not mortally wounded, Lord Byron, while he
was speaking, shortened his sword, and stabbed him in the belly."
When Mr. Mawkins, the surgeon, arrived, he found Mr. Chaworth sitting
by the fire, with the lower part of his waistcoat open, his shirt
bloody, and his hand upon his belly. He inquired if he was in
immediate danger, and being answered in the affirmative, he desired
his uncle, Mr. Levinz, might be sent for. In the meantime, he stated
to Mr. Hawkins, that Lord Byron and he (Mr. Chaworth) entered the room
together; that his Lordship said something of the dispute, on which
he, Mr. C., fastened the door, and turning round, perceived his
Lordship with his sword either drawn or nearly so; on which he
instantly drew his own and made a thrust at him, which he thought had
wounded or killed him; that then perceiving his Lordship shorten his
sword to return the thrust, he thought to have parried it with his
left hand, at which he looked twice, imagining that he had cut it in
the attempt; that he felt the sword enter his body, and go deep
through his back; that he struggled, and being the stronger man,
disarmed his Lordship, and expressed his apprehension that he had
mortally wounded him; that Lord Byron replied by saying something to
the like effect; adding that he hoped now he would allow him to be as
brave a man as any in the kingdom.
After a little while, Mr. Chaworth seemed to grow stronger, and was
removed to his own house: additional medical advice arrived, but no
relief could be given him: he continued sensible till his death. Mr.
Levinz, his uncle, now arrived with an attorney, to whom Mr. Chaworth
gave very sensible and distinct instructions for making his will. The
will was then executed, and the attorney, Mr. Partington, committed to
writing the last words Mr. Chaworth was heard to say. This writing was
handed to Mr. Levinz, and gave rise to a report that a paper was
written by the deceased, and sealed up, not to be opened till the time
that Lord Byron should be tried; but no paper was written by Mr.
Chaworth, and that written by Mr. Partington was as follows: "Sunday
morning, the 27th of January, about three of the clock, Mr. Chaworth
said, that my Lord's sword was half-drawn, and that he, knowing the
man, immediately, or as quick as he could, whipped out his sword, and
had the first thrust; that then my Lord wounded him, and he disarmed
my Lord, who then said, 'By G--, I have as much courage as any man in
England.'"