The whole British empire may be justly considered as one grand alliance,
united for public and private interest; and this vast body of people is
subdivided into an infinity of smaller fraternities, for individual
benefit.
Perhaps there are hundreds of these societies in Birmingham, under the
name of “clubs;” some of them boast the antiquity of a century, and by
prudent direction have acquired a capital, at accumulating interest.
Thousands of the inhabitants are connected; nay, to be otherwise is
rather unfashionable, and some are people of sentiment and property.
Among a variety of purposes intended by these laudable institutions, the
principal one is that of supporting the sick. Each society is governed
by a code of laws of its own making, which have at least the honour of
resembling those of the legislature; for words without sense are found
in both, and we sometimes stumble upon contradiction.
The poor-rates, enormous as they appear, are softened by these brotherly
aids; they tend also to keep the mind at rest, for a man will enjoy the
day of health, with double relish, when he considers he has a treasure
laid up for that of sickness. If a member only of a poor family be sick,
the head still remains to procure necessaries; but if that head be
disordered, the whole source of supply is dried up.
The general custom is to meet at a public house every fortnight, spend a
trifle, and each contribute sixpence, or any stated sum, to the common
stock. The landlord is always treasurer, or father, and is assisted by
two stewards, annually or monthly chosen.
As honour and low life are not always found together, we sometimes see a
man, who is idle, wish the society may suppose him sick, that he may rob
them with more security; or, if a member hang long “upon the box,” his
brethren seek a pretence to expel him. On the other hand, we frequently
observe a man silently retreat from the club, if another falls upon the
box, and fondly suppose himself no longer a member; or if the box be
loaded with sickness, the whole club has been known to dissolve, that
the members might rid themselves of the burden. The Court of Requests
finds an easy remedy for these evils, at a trifling expense.
The charity of the club is often extended beyond the grave, and
terminates with a present to the widow.
Philosophers tell us, “There is no good without its kindred evil.” This
amiable body of men, marshalled to relieve disease, has one small alloy,
and perhaps but one. As liquor and labour are inseparable, the imprudent
member is apt to forget to quit the club-room when he has spent his
necessary two-pence, but continues there, to the injury of his family.
One of these institutions is the “_Rent Club_,” where, from the weekly
sums deposited by the members, a sop is regularly served up twice a
year, to prevent the growlings of a landlord.
In the “_Breeches Club_” every member ballots for a pair, value a
guinea, _promised_ of more value by the maker. This club dissolves when
all the members are served.
The intentions of the “_Book Club_” are well known to catch the
productions of the press as they rise.
The “_Watch Club_” has generally a watchmaker for its president, is
composed of young men, and is always temporary.
If a tailor be short of employment, he has only to consult a landlord
over a bottle, and by their joint powers, they give birth to a “_Clothes
Club_,” where every member is supplied with a suit to his taste, of a
stipulated price. These are chiefly composed of bachelors, who wish to
shine in the eyes of the fair.
A bricklayer stands at the head of the “_Building Club_,” where every
member perhaps subscribes two guineas per month, and each house, value
about one hundred pounds, is balloted for as soon as erected. As a house
is a weighty concern, every member is obliged to produce two bondsmen
for the performance of covenants.
I will venture to pronounce another, the “_Capital Club_;” for when the
contributions amount to fifty pounds, the members ballot for this
capital, to bring into business, here also securities are necessary. It
is easy to conceive the two last clubs are extremely beneficial to
building and to commerce.
The last I shall enumerate is the “_Clock Club_.” When the weekly
deposits of the members amount to about four pounds, they cast lots who
shall be first served with a clock of that value, and continue the same
method till the whole club is supplied; after which, the clock-maker and
landlord cast about for another set, who are chiefly young housekeepers.
Hence the beginner ornaments his premises with furniture, the artist
finds employment with profit, and the publican empties his barrel.[276]
[276] Hutton’s History of Birmingham.
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