caught a maid of old Lady Winchilsea's at the door of her house in the
Park with a candle, and had just lighted out somebody. They cut all
her face, and beat her without any provocation.
At length, the villanies of the Mohocks were attempted to be put down
by a Royal proclamation, issued on the 18th of March, 1712: this,
however, had very little effect, for we soon find Swift exclaiming:
"They go on still, and cut people's faces every night! but they
sha'n't cut mine; I like it better as it is."
Within a week after the Proclamation, it was proposed that Sir Roger
de Coverley should go to the play, where he had not been for twenty
years. The _Spectator_, No. 335, says: "My friend asked me if there
would not be some danger in coming home late, in case the Mohocks
should be abroad. 'I assure you,' says he, 'I thought I had fallen
into their hands last night; for I observed two or three lusty black
men that followed me half-way up Fleet-street, and mended their pace
behind me, in proportion as I put on to get away from them." However,
Sir Roger threw them out, at the end of Norfolk Street, where he
doubled the corner, and got shelter in his lodgings before they could
imagine what was become of him. It was finally arranged that Captain
Sentry should make one of the party for the play, and that Sir Roger's
coach should be got ready, the fore wheels being newly mended. "The
Captain," says the _Spectator_, "who did not fail to meet me at the
appointed hour, bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for that he had put on the
same sword which he made use of at the battle of Steenkirk. Sir
Roger's servants, and among the rest, my old friend the butler, had, I
found, provided themselves with good oaken plants, to attend their
master upon this occasion. When he placed him in his coach, with
myself at his left hand, the Captain before him, and his butler at the
head of his footmen in the rear, we convoyed him in safety to the
playhouse." The play was Ambrose Phillips's new tragedy of _The
Distressed Mother_: at its close, Sir Roger went out fully satisfied
with his entertainment; and, says _the Spectator_, "we guarded him to
his lodging in the same manner that we guarded him to the playhouse."
The subject is resumed with much humour, by Budgell, in the
_Spectator_, No. 347, where the doubts as to the actual existence of
Mohocks are examined. "They will have it," says the _Spectator_, "that
the Mohocks are like those spectres and apparitions which frighten
several towns and villages in Her Majesty's dominions, though they
were never seen by any of the inhabitants. Others are apt to think
that these Mohocks are a kind of bull-beggars, first invented by
prudent married men and masters of families, in order to deter their
wives and daughters from taking the air at unseasonable hours; and
that when they tell them 'the Mohocks will catch them,' it is a
caution of the same nature with that of our forefathers, when they bid
their children have a care of Raw-head and Bloody-bones." Then we
have, from a Correspondent of the _Spectator_, "the manifesto of Taw
Waw Eben Zan Kaladar, Emperor of the Mohocks," vindicating his
imperial dignity from the false aspersions cast on it, signifying the
imperial abhorrence and detestation of such tumultuous and irregular
proceedings; and notifying that all wounds, hurts, damage, or
detriment, received in limb or limbs, _otherwise than shall be
hereafter specified_, shall be committed to the care of the Emperor's
surgeon, and cured at his own expense, in some one or other of those
hospitals which he is erecting for that purpose.
Among other things it is decreed "that they never tip the lion upon
man, woman, or child, till the clock at St. Dunstan's shall have
struck one;" "that the sweat be never given till between the hours of
one and two;" "that the sweaters do establish their hummums in such
close places, alleys, nooks and corners, that the patient or patients
may not be in danger of catching cold;" "that the tumblers, to whose
care we chiefly commit the female sex, confine themselves to
Drury-lane and the purlieus of the Temple," etc. "Given from our Court
at the Devil Tavern," etc.
The Mohocks held together until nearly the end of the reign of George
the First.
BLASPHEMOUS CLUBS.
The successors of the Mohocks added blasphemy to riot. Smollett
attributes the profaneness and profligacy of the period to the
demoralization produced by the South Sea Bubble; and Clubs were formed
specially for the indulgence of debauchery and profaneness. Prominent
among these was "the Hell-fire Club," of which the Duke of Wharton was
a leading spirit:--
"Wharton, the scorn and wonder of our days,
Whose ruling passion was the lust of praise.
Born with whate'er could win it from the wise,
Women and fools must like him, or he dies.
Though wondering senates hung on all he spoke,
The club must hail him master of the joke."--_Pope._
So high did the tide of profaneness run at this time, that a Bill was
brought into the House of Lords for its suppression. It was in a
debate on this Bill that the Earl of Peterborough declared, that
though he was for a Parliamentary King, he was against a Parliamentary
religion; and that the Duke of Wharton pulled an old family Bible out
of his pocket, in order to controvert certain arguments delivered from
the episcopal bench.
MUG-HOUSE CLUBS.
Among the political Clubs of the metropolis in the early part of the
eighteenth century, one of the most popular was the Mug-house Club,
which met in a great Hall in Long Acre every Wednesday and Saturday,
during the winter. The house received its name from the simple
circumstance, that each member drank his ale (the only liquor used)
out of a separate mug. The Club is described as a mixture of
gentlemen, lawyers, and statesmen, who met seldom under a hundred. In
_A Journey through England_, 1722, we read of this Club:
"But the most diverting and amusing of all is the Mug-house Club in
Long Acre.
"They have a grave old Gentleman, in his own gray Hairs, now within a
few months of Ninety years old, who is their President, and sits in
an arm'd chair some steps higher than the rest of the company to keep
the whole Room in order. A Harp plays all the time at the lower end of
the Room; and every now and then one or other of the Company rises and
entertains the rest with a song, and (by the by) some are good
Masters. Here is nothing drunk but Ale, and every Gentleman hath his
separate Mug, which he chalks on the Table where he sits as it is
brought in; and every one retires when he pleases, as from a
Coffee-house.
"The Room is always so diverted with Songs, and drinking from one
Table to another to one another's Healths, that there is no room for
Politicks, or anything that can sow'r conversation.
"One must be there by seven to get Room, and after ten the Company are
for the most part gone.
"This is a Winter's Amusement, that is agreeable enough to a Stranger
for once or twice, and he is well diverted with the different Humours,
when the Mugs overflow."
Although in the early days of this Club there was no room for
politics, or anything that could sour conversation, the Mug-house
subsequently became a rallying-place for the most virulent political
antagonism, arising out of the change of dynasty, a weighty matter to
debate over mugs of ale. The death of Anne brought on the Hanover
succession. The Tories had then so much the better of the other party,
that they gained the mob on all public occasions to their side. It
then became necessary for King George's friends to do something to
counteract this tendency. Accordingly, they established Mug-houses,
like that of Long Acre, throughout the metropolis, for well-affected
tradesmen to meet and keep up the spirit of loyalty to the Protestant
succession. First, they had one in St. John's-lane, chiefly under the
patronage of Mr. Blenman, member of the Middle Temple, who took for
his motto, "Pro rege et lege." Then arose the Roebuck Mug-house, in
Cheapside, the haunt of a fraternity of young men, who had been
organized for political action before the end of the late reign.
According to a pamphlet on the subject, dated in 1717, "the next
Mug-houses opened in the City were at Mrs. Read's, in Salisbury-court,
in Fleet-street, and at the Harp in Tower-street, and another at the
Roebuck in Whitechapel. About the same time several other Mug-houses
were erected in the suburbs, for the reception and entertainment of
the like loyal Societies: viz. one at the Ship, in Tavistock-street,
Covent Garden, which is mostly frequented by royal officers of the
army, another at the Black Horse, in Queen-street near Lincoln's Inn
Fields, set up and carried on by gentlemen, servants to that noble
patron of loyalty, to whom this vindication of it is inscribed [the
Duke of Newcastle]; a third was set up at the Nag's Head, in
James-street, Covent Garden; a fourth at the Fleece, in
Burleigh-street, near Exeter Change; a fifth at the Hand and Tench,
near the Seven Dials; several in Spittlefields, by the French
refugees; one in Southwark Park; and another in the Artillery-ground."
Another noted Mug-house was the Magpie, without Newgate, which house
still exists as the Magpie and Stump, in the Old Bailey. At all these
houses it was customary in the forenoon to exhibit the whole of the
mugs belonging to the establishment, in a row in front of the house.
The frequenters of these several Mug-houses formed themselves into
"Mug-house Clubs," known severally by some distinctive name, and each
club had its President to rule its meetings and keep order. The
President was treated with great ceremony and respect: he was
conducted to his chair every evening at about seven o'clock, by
members carrying candles before and behind him, and accompanied with
music. Having taken a seat, he appointed a Vice-president, and drank
the health of the company assembled, a compliment which the company
returned. The evening was then passed in drinking successively loyal
and other healths, and in singing songs. Soon after ten they broke up,
the President naming his successor for the next evening; and before he
left the chair, a collection was made for the musicians.
We shall now see how these Clubs took so active a part in the violent
political struggles of the time. The Jacobites had laboured with much
zeal to secure the alliance of the street mob, and they had used it
with great effect, in connexion with Dr. Sacheverell, in over-turning
Queen Anne's Whig Government, and paving the way for the return of the
exiled family. Disappointment at the accession of George I. rendered
the party of the Pretender more unscrupulous; the mob was excited to
greater excesses, and the streets of the metropolis were occupied by
an infuriated rabble, and presented a nightly scene of riot. It was
under these circumstances that the Mug-house Clubs volunteered, in a
very disorderly manner, to be champions of order; and with this
purpose it became part of their evening's entertainment to march into
the street, and fight the Jacobite mob. This practice commenced in the
autumn of 1715, when the Club called the Loyal Society, which met at
the Roebuck in Cheapside, distinguished itself by its hostility to
Jacobitism. On one occasion this Club burned the Pretender in effigy.
Their first conflict with the mob, recorded in the newspapers,
occurred on the 31st of January, 1715, the birthday of the Prince of
Wales, which was celebrated by illuminations and bonfires. There were
a few Jacobite alehouses, chiefly on Holborn Hill, in Sacheverell's
period; and on Ludgate-hill: the frequenters of the latter stirred up
the mob to raise a riot there, put out the bonfire, and break the
windows which were illuminated. The Loyal Society men, receiving
intelligence of what was going on, hurried to the spot, and thrashed
and defeated the rioters.
On the 4th of November in the same year, the birthday of King William
III., the Jacobite mob made a large bonfire in the Old Jewry, to burn
an effigy of the King; but the Mug-house men came upon them again,
gave them "due chastisement with oaken plants," extinguished their
bonfire, and carried King William in triumph to the Roebuck. Next day
was the commemoration of Gunpowder Treason, and the loyal mob had its
pageant. A long procession was formed, having in front a figure of the
infant Pretender, accompanied by two men bearing each a warming-pan,
in allusion to the story about his birth; and followed by effigies in
gross caricature of the Pope, the Pretender, the Duke of Ormond, Lord
Bolingbroke, and the Earl of Marr, with halters round their necks; and
all of them were to be burned in a large bonfire made in Cheapside.
The procession, starting from the Roebuck, went through
Newgate-street, and up Holborn-hill, where they compelled the bells of
St. Andrew's church, of which Sacheverell was rector, to ring; thence
through Lincoln's Inn Fields and Covent Garden to the gate of St.
James's Palace; returning by way of Pall Mall and the Strand, and
through St. Paul's Churchyard. They had met with no interruption on
their way, but on their return to Cheapside, they found that, during
their absence, that quarter had been invaded by the Jacobite mob, who
had carried away all the fuel which had been collected for the
bonfire.
On November 17, in the same year, the Loyal Society met at the Roebuck
to celebrate the anniversary of the Accession of Queen Elizabeth; and,
while busy with their mugs, they received information that the
Jacobites were assembled, in great force, in St. Martin's-le-Grand,
and were preparing to burn the effigies of King William and King
George, along with the Duke of Marlborough. They were so near, in
fact, that their party-shouts of High Church, Ormond, and King James,
must have been audible at the Roebuck, which stood opposite Bow
Church. The Jacobites were starting on their procession, when they
were overtaken in Newgate Street, by the Mug-house men from the
Roebuck, and a desperate encounter took place, in which the Jacobites
were defeated, and many of them were seriously injured. Meanwhile the
Roebuck itself had been the scene of a much more serious tumult.
During the absence of the great mass of the members of the Club,
another body of Jacobites, much more numerous than those engaged in
Newgate Street, suddenly assembled, attacked the Roebuck Mug-house,
broke its windows, and those of the adjoining houses, and with
terrible threats, attempted to force the door. One of the few members
of the Loyal Society who remained at home, discharged a gun upon those
of the assailants who were attacking the door, and killed one of their
leaders. This and the approach of the Lord Mayor and city officers,
caused the mob to disperse; but the Roebuck was exposed to attacks
during several following nights, after which the mobs remained
tolerably quiet during the winter.
Early in 1716, however, these riots were renewed with greater
violence, and preparations were made for an active campaign. The
Mug-houses were re-fitted, and re-opened with ceremonious
entertainments. New songs were composed to stir up the Clubs; and
collections of these Mug-house songs were printed. The Jacobite mob
was heard beating with its well-known call, marrow-bones and cleavers,
and both sides were well equipped with staves of oak, their usual arms
for the fray, though other weapons and missiles were in common use.
One of the Mug-house songs thus describes the way in which these
street fights were conducted:--
"Since the Tories could not fight,
And their master took his flight,
They labour to keep up their faction;
With a bough and a stick,
And a stone and a brick,
They equip their roaring crew for action.
"Thus in battle array,
At the close of the day,
After wisely debating their plot,
Upon windows and stall
They courageously fall,
And boast a great victory they've got.
"But, alas! silly boys!
For all the mighty noise
Of their 'High Church and Ormond for ever!'
A brave Whig, with one hand,
At George's command,
Can make their mightiest hero to quiver."
On March 8, another great Whig anniversary, the day of the death of
William III., commenced the more serious Mug-house riots of 1716. A
large Jacobite mob assembled to their own watch-cry, and marched along
Cheapside, to attack the Roebuck; but they were soon driven back by a
small party of the Royal Society, who then marched in procession
through Newgate Street, to the Magpie and Stump, and then by the Old
Bailey to Ludgate Hill. When about to return, they found the Jacobite
mob had collected in great force in their rear; and a fierce
engagement took place in Newgate Street, when the Jacobites were again
worsted. Then, on the evening of the 23rd of April, the anniversary of
the birth of Queen Anne, there were great battles in Cheapside, and at
the end of Giltspur Street; and in the immediate neighbourhood of the
Roebuck and the Magpie. Other great tumults took place on the 29th of
May, Restoration Day; and on the 10th of June, the Pretender's
birthday. From this time the Roebuck is rarely mentioned.
The Whigs, who met in the Mug-house, kept by Mr. Read, in Salisbury
Court, Fleet Street, appear to have been peculiarly noisy in their
cups, and thus rendered themselves the more obnoxious to the mob. On
one occasion, July 20, their violent party-toasts, which they drank in
the parlour with open windows, collected a large crowd of persons, who
became at last so incensed by some tipsy Whigs inside, that they
commenced a furious attack upon the house, and threatened to pull it
down and make a bonfire of its materials in the middle of Fleet
Street. The Whigs immediately closed their windows and barricaded the
doors, having sent a messenger by a back door, to the Mug-house in
Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, begging that the persons there
assembled would come to the rescue. The call was immediately responded
to; the Mug-house men proceeded in a body down the Strand and Fleet
Street, armed with staves and bludgeons, and commenced an attack on
the mob, who still threatened the demolition of the house in Salisbury
Court. The inmates sallied out, armed with pokers and tongs, and
whatever they could lay their hands upon, and being joined by their
friends from Covent Garden, the mob was put to flight, and the
Mug-house men remained masters of the field.
The popular indignation was very great at this defeat; and for two
days crowds collected in the neighbourhood, and vowed they would have
revenge. But the knowledge that a squadron of horse was drawn up at
Whitehall, ready to ride into the City on the first alarm, kept order.
On the third day, however, the people found a leader in the person of
one Vaughan, formerly a Bridewell boy, who instigated the mob to take
revenge for their late defeat. They followed him with shouts of "High
Church and Ormond! down with the Mug-house!" and Read, the landlord,
dreading that they would either burn or pull down his house, prepared
to defend himself. He threw up a window, and presented a loaded
blunderbuss, and vowed he would discharge its contents in the body of
the first man who advanced against his house. This threat exasperated
the mob, who ran against the door with furious yells. Read was as good
as his word,--he fired, and the unfortunate man Vaughan fell dead upon
the spot. The people, now frantic, swore to hang up the landlord from
his own sign-post. They forced the door, pulled down the sign, and
entered the house, where Read would assuredly have been sacrificed to
their fury, if they had found him. He, however, had with great risk
escaped by a back-door. Disappointed at this, the mob broke the
furniture to pieces, destroyed everything that lay in their way, and
left only the bare walls of the house. They now threatened to burn the
whole street, and were about to set fire to Read's house, when the
Sheriffs, with a posse of constables, arrived. The Riot Act was read,
but disregarded; and the Sheriffs sent to Whitehall for a detachment
of the military. A squadron of horse soon arrived, and cleared the
streets, taking five of the most active rioters into custody.
Read, the landlord, was captured on the following day, and tried for
the wilful murder of Vaughan; he was, however, acquitted of the
capital charge, and found guilty of manslaughter only. The five
rioters were also brought to trial, and met with a harder fate. They
were all found guilty of riot and rebellion, and sentenced to death at
Tyburn.
This example damped the courage of the rioters, and alarmed all
parties; so that we hear no more of the Mug-house riots, until a few
months later, a pamphlet appeared with the title, _Down with the Mug;
or Reasons for suppressing the Mug-houses_, by an author who only gave
the initials Sir H---- M----, but who seems to have so much of what
was thought to be a Jacobite spirit, that it provoked a reply,
entitled the _Mug Vindicated_.
The account of 1722 states that many an encounter they had, and many
were the riots, till at last the Government was obliged by an Act of
Parliament to put an end to this strife, which had this good effect,
that upon pulling down of the Mug-house in Salisbury Court, for which
some boys were hanged on this Act, the city has not been troubled with
them since.
There is some doubt as to the first use of the term "Mug-house." In a
scarce _Collection of One Hundred and Eighty Loyal Songs_, all written
since 1678, Fourth Edition, 1694, is a song in praise of the "Mug,"
which shows that Mug-houses had that name previous to the Mug-house
riots. It has also been stated that the beer-mugs were originally
fashioned into a grotesque resemblance of Lord Shaftesbury's face, or
"ugly mug," as it was called, and that this is the derivation of the
word.
THE KIT-KAT CLUB.
This famous Club was a threefold celebrity--political, literary, and
artistic. It was the great Society of Whig leaders, formed about the
year 1700, _temp._ William III., consisting of thirty-nine noblemen
and gentlemen zealously attached to the House of Hanover; among whom
the Dukes of Somerset, Richmond, Grafton, Devonshire, and Marlborough,
and (after the accession of George I.) the Duke of Newcastle; the
Earls of Dorset, Sunderland, Manchester, Wharton, and Kingston; Lords
Halifax and Somers; Sir Robert Walpole, Vanbrugh, Congreve, Granville,
Addison, Garth, Maynwaring, Stepney, and Walsh. They are said to have
first met at an obscure house in Shire-lane, by Temple Bar, at the
house of a noted mutton-pieman, one Christopher Katt; from whom the
Club, and the pies that formed a standing dish at the Club suppers,
both took their name of Kit-Kat. In the _Spectator_, No. 9, however,
they are said to have derived their title not from the maker of the
pie, but from the pie itself, which was called a Kit-Kat, as we now
say a Sandwich; thus, in a prologue to a comedy of 1700:
"A Kit-Kat is a supper for a lord;"
but Dr. King, in his _Art of Cookery_, is for the pieman:
"Immortal made, as Kit-Kat by his pies."
The origin and early history of the Kit-Kat Club is obscure. Elkanah
Settle addressed, in 1699, a manuscript poem "To the most renowned the
President and the rest of the Knights of the most noble Order of the
Toast," in which verses is asserted the dignity of the Society; and
Malone supposes the Order of the Toast to have been identical with the
Kit-Kat Club: this was in 1699. The toasting-glasses, which we shall
presently mention, may have something to do with this presumed
identity.