plan is a quadrangle, with an open area in the middle, so that all the
rooms are well lighted. The Pall-Mall front has a bold and rich
cornice, and the windows are decorated with Corinthian pilasters: the
garden front varies in the windows, but the Italian taste is preserved
throughout, with the most careful finish: the roof is Italian tiles.
To be more minute, the consent of all competent judges has assigned a
very high rank to this building as a piece of architectural design;
for if, in point of mere _quantity_, it fall greatly short of many
contemporary structures, it surpasses nearly every one of them in
_quality_, and in the artist-like treatment. In fact, it makes an
epoch in our metropolitan architecture; for before, we had hardly a
specimen of that nobler Italian style, which, instead of the flutter
and flippery, and the littleness of manner, which pervade most of the
productions of the Palladian school, is characterized by breath and
that refined simplicity arising from unity of idea and execution, and
from every part being consistently worked up, yet kept subservient to
one predominating effect. Unfortunately, the south front, which is by
far the more striking and graceful composition, is comparatively
little seen, being that facing Carlton Gardens, and not to be
approached so as to be studied as it deserves; but when examined, it
certainly must be allowed to merit all the admiration it has obtained.
Though perfect, quiet, and sober in effect, and unostentatious in
character, this building of Barry's is remarkable for the careful
finish bestowed on every part of it. It is this quality, together with
the taste displayed in the design generally, that renders it an
architectural bijou. Almost any one must be sensible of this, if he
will but be at the pains to compare it with the United Service Club,
eastward of which, as far as mere quantity goes, there is much more.
Another critic remarks: "The Travellers' fairly makes an epoch in the
architectural history of Club-houses, as being almost the first, if
not the very first, attempt, to introduce into this country that
species of rich _astylar_ composition which has obtained the name of
the Italian palazzo mode, by way of contradistinction from
Palladianism and its orders. This production of Barry's has given a
fresh impulse to architectural design, and one in a more artistic
direction; and the style adopted by the architect has been applied to
various other buildings in the provinces as well as in the metropolis;
and its influence has manifested itself in the taste of our recent
street architecture."
The Travellers' narrowly escaped destruction on October 24, 1850, when
a fire did great damage to the billiard-rooms, which were, by the way,
an afterthought, and addition to the original building, but by no
means an improvement upon the first design, for they greatly impaired
the beauty of the garden-front.
THE UNITED SERVICE CLUB.
One of the oldest of the modern Clubs, was instituted the year after
the Peace of 1815, when a few officers of influence in both branches
of the Service had built for them, by Sir R. Smirke, a Club-house at
the corner of Charles-street and Regent-street,--a frigid design,
somewhat relieved by sculpture on the entrance-front, of Britannia
distributing laurels to her brave sons by land and sea. Thence the
Club removed to a more spacious house, in Waterloo-place, facing the
Athenæum; the Club-house in Charles-street being entered on by the
Junior United Service Club; but Smirke's cold design has been
displaced by an edifice of much more ornate exterior and luxurious
internal appliances.
The United Service Club (Senior) was designed by Nash, and has a
well-planned interior, exhibiting the architect's well-known
excellence in this branch of his profession. The principal front
facing Pall Mall has a Roman-Doric portico; and above it a Corinthian
portico, with pediment. One of the patriarchal members of the Club was
Lord Lynedoch, the hero of the Peninsular War, who lived under five
sovereigns: he died in his 93rd year, leaving behind him a name to be
held in honoured remembrance, while loyalty is considered to be a real
virtue, or military renown a passport to fame. It is a curious fact
that the Duke of Wellington fought his last battle at an earlier
period of life than that in which Lord Lynedoch "fleshed his maiden
sword;" and though we were accustomed to regard the Duke himself as
preserving his vigour to a surprisingly advanced age, Lord Lynedoch
was at his death old enough to have been the father of his Grace. The
United Service was the favourite Club of the Duke, who might often be
seen dining here on a joint; and on one occasion, when he was charged
1_s._ 3_d._ instead of 1_s._ for it, he bestirred himself till the
threepence was struck off. The motive was obvious: he took the trouble
of objecting, so that he might sanction the principle.
Among the Club pictures is Jones's large painting of the Battle of
Waterloo; and the portrait of the Duke of Wellington, painted for the
Club by W. Robinson. Here also are Stanfield's fine picture of the
Battle of Trafalgar; and a copy, by Lane, painted in 1851, of a
contemporary portrait of Sir Francis Drake, our "Elizabethan
Sea-King." The Club-house has of late years been considerably
enlarged.
THE ALFRED CLUB.
In the comparatively quiet Albemarle-street was instituted, in 1808,
the Alfred Club, which has, _ab initio_, been remarkable for the
number of travellers and men of letters, who form a considerable
proportion of its members. Science is handsomely housed at the Royal
Institution, on the east side of the street; and literature nobly
represented by the large publishing-house of Mr. Murray, on the west;
both circumstances tributary to the _otium_ enjoyed in a Club. Yet,
strangely enough, its position has been a frequent source of banter to
the Alfred. First it was known by its cockney appellation of
_Half-read_. Lord Byron was a member, and he tells us that "it was
pleasant, a little too sober and literary, and bored with Sotheby and
Francis D'Ivernois; but one met Rich, and Ward, and Valentia, and many
other pleasant or known people; and it was, in the whole, a decent
resource in a rainy day, in a dearth of parties, or Parliament, or in
an empty season."
Lord Dudley, writing to the Bishop of Llandaff, says: "I am glad you
mean to come into the Alfred this time. We are the most abused, and
most envied, and most canvassed, Society that I know of, and we
deserve neither the one nor the other distinction. The Club is not so
good a resource as many respectable persons would believe, nor are we
by any means such quizzes or such bores as the wags pretend. A duller
place than the Alfred there does not exist. I should not choose to be
quoted for saying so, but the bores prevail there to the exclusion of
every other interest. You hear nothing but idle reports and twaddling
opinions. They read the _Morning Post_ and the _British Critic_. It is
the asylum of doting Tories and drivelling quidnuncs. But they are
civil and quiet. You belong to a much better Club already. The
eagerness to get into it is prodigious."
Then, we have the _Quarterly Review_, with confirmation strong of the
two Lords:--"The Alfred received its _coup-de-grâce_ from a well-known
story, (rather an indication than a cause of its decline,) to the
effect that Mr. Canning, whilst in the zenith of his fame, dropped in
accidentally at a house dinner of twelve or fourteen, stayed out the
evening, and made himself remarkably agreeable, without any one of the
party suspecting who he was."
The dignified clergy, who, with the higher class of lawyers, have long
ago emigrated to the Athenæum and University Clubs, formerly mustered
in such great force at the Alfred, that Lord Alvanley, on being asked
in the bow-window at White's, whether he was still a member, somewhat
irreverently replied: "Not exactly: I stood it as long as I could, but
when the seventeenth bishop was proposed I gave in. I really could not
enter the place without being put in mind of my catechism."
"Sober-minded people," says the _Quarterly Review_, "may be apt to
think this formed the best possible reason for his lordship's
remaining where he was. It is hardly necessary to say that the
presence of the bishops and judges is universally regarded as an
unerring test of the high character of a Club."
THE ORIENTAL CLUB.
Several years ago, the high dignitaries of the Church and Law kept the
Alfred to themselves; but this would not do: then they admitted a
large number of very respectable good young men, who were
unexceptionable, but not very amusing. This, again, would not do. So,
now the Alfred joined, 1855, the Oriental, in Hanover-square. And
curiously enough, the latter Club has been quizzed equally with the
Alfred. In the merry days of the _New Monthly Magazine_ of some thirty
years since, we read:--"The Oriental--or, as the hackney-coachmen
call it, the Horizontal Club--in Hanover-square, outdoes even Arthur's
for quietude. Placed at the corner of a _cul-de-sac_--at least as far
as carriages are concerned, and in a part of the Square to which
nobody not proceeding to one of four houses which occupy that
particular side ever thinks of going, its little windows, looking upon
nothing, give the idea of mingled dulness and inconvenience. From the
outside it looks like a prison;--enter it, it looks like an hospital,
in which a smell of curry-powder pervades the 'wards,'--wards filled
with venerable patients, dressed in nankeen shorts, yellow stockings,
and gaiters, and faces to match. _There_ may still be seen pigtails in
all their pristine perfection. It is the region of calico shirts,
returned writers, and guinea-pigs grown into bores. Such is the
_nabobery_, into which Harley-street, Wimpole-street, and
Glocester-place, daily empty their precious stores of bilious
humanity." Time has blunted the point of this satiric picture, the
individualities of which had passed away, even before the amalgamation
of the Oriental with the Alfred.
The Oriental Club was established in 1824, by Sir John Malcolm, the
traveller and brave soldier. The members were noblemen and gentlemen
associated with the administration of our Eastern empire, or who have
travelled or resided in Asia, at St. Helena, in Egypt, at the Cape of
Good Hope, the Mauritius, or at Constantinople.
The Oriental was erected in 1827-8, by B. and P. Wyatt, and has the
usual Club characteristic of only one tier of windows above the
ground-floor; the interior has since been redecorated and embellished
by Collman.
THE ATHENÆUM CLUB.
The Athenæum presents a good illustration of the present Club system,
of which it was one of the earliest instances. By reference to the
accounts of the Clubs existing about the commencement of the present
century, it will be seen how greatly they differed, both in
constitution and purpose, from the modern large subscription-houses,
called Clubs; and which are to be compared with their predecessors
only in so far as every member must be balloted for, or be chosen by
the consent of the rest. Prior to 1824, there was only one institution
in the metropolis particularly devoted to the association of Authors,
Literary Men, Members of Parliament, and promoters generally of the
Fine Arts. All other establishments were more or less exclusive,
comprising gentlemen who screened themselves in the windows of
White's, or Members for Counties who darkened the doors of Brookes's;
or they were dedicated to the Guards, or "men of wit and pleasure
about town." It is true that the Royal Society had its convivial
meetings, as we have already narrated; and small Clubs of members of
other learned Societies, were held; but with these exceptions, there
were no Clubs where individuals known for their scientific or literary
attainments, artists of eminence in any class of the Fine Arts, and
noblemen and gentlemen distinguished as patrons of science,
literature, and the arts, could unite in friendly and encouraging
intercourse; and professional men were compelled either to meet at
taverns, or to be confined exclusively to the Society of their
particular professions.
To remedy this, on the 17th of February, 1824, a preliminary
meeting,--comprising Sir Humphry Davy, the Right Hon. John Wilson
Croker, Sir Francis Chantrey, Richard Heber, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Dr.
Thomas Young, Lord Dover, Davie Gilbert, the Earl of Aberdeen, Sir
Henry Halford, Sir Walter Scott, Joseph Jekyll, Thomas Moore, and
Charles Hatchett,--was held in the apartments of the Royal Society, at
Somerset House; at this meeting Professor Faraday assisted as
secretary, and it was agreed to institute a Club to be called "The
Society," subsequently altered to "The Athenæum." "The Society" first
met in the Clarence Club-house; but, in 1830, the present mansion,
designed by Decimus Burton, was opened to the members.
The Athenæum Club-house is built upon a portion of the court-yard of
Carlton House. The architecture is Grecian, with a frieze exactly
copied from the Panathenaic procession in the frieze of the
Parthenon,--the flower and beauty of Athenian youth, gracefully seated
on the most exquisitely sculptured horses, which Flaxman regarded as
the most precious example of Grecian power in the sculpture of
animals. Over the Roman Doric entrance-portico is a colossal figure of
Minerva, by Baily, R.A.; and the interior has some fine casts of
_chefs-d'oeuvre_ of sculpture. Here the architecture is grand,
massive, and severe. The noble Hall, 35 feet broad by 57 feet long, is
divided by scagliola columns and pilasters, the capitals copied from
the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates. This is the Exchange, or Lounge,
where the members meet. The floor is the Marmorato Veneziano mosaic.
Over each of the two fire-places, in a niche, is a statue--the Diana
Robing and the Venus Victrix, selected by Sir Thomas Lawrence--a very
fine contrivance for sculptural display. The Library is the best Club
Library in London: it comprises the most rare and valuable works, and
a very considerable sum is annually expended upon the collection,
under the guidance of members most eminent in literature and science.
Above the mantelpiece is a portrait of George IV., painted by
Lawrence, upon which he was engaged but a few hours previous to his
decease; the last bit of colour this celebrated artist ever put upon
canvas being that of the hilt and sword-knot of the girdle; thus it
remains unfinished. The bookcases of the drawing-rooms are crowned
with busts of British worthies. Among the Club gossip it is told that
a member who held the Library faith of the promise of the Fathers, and
was anxious to consult their good works, one day asked, in a somewhat
familiar tone of acquaintance with these respectable theologians, "Is
Justin Martyr here?"--"I do not know," was the reply; "I will refer to
the list, but I do not think that gentleman is one of our members."
Mr. Walker, in his very pleasant work, _The Original_, was one of the
first to show how by the then new system of Clubs the facilities of
living were wonderfully increased, whilst the expense was greatly
diminished. For a few pounds a year, advantages are to be enjoyed
which no fortunes, except the most ample, can procure. The only Club
(he continues) I belong to is the Athenæum, which consists of twelve
hundred members, amongst whom are to be reckoned a large proportion of
the most eminent persons in the land, in every line,--civil, military,
and ecclesiastical,--peers spiritual and temporal (ninety-five
noblemen and twelve bishops), commoners, men of the learned
professions, those connected with science, the arts, and commerce, in
all its principal branches, as well as the distinguished who do not
belong to any particular class. Many of these are to be met with every
day, living with the same freedom as in their own houses, for 25
guineas entrance, and 6 guineas a year. Every member has the command
of an excellent library, with maps; of newspapers, English and
foreign; the principal periodicals; writing materials, and attendance.
The building is a sort of palace, and is kept with the same exactness
and comfort as a private dwelling. Every member is master, without any
of the trouble of a master: he can come when he pleases, and stay away
when he pleases, without anything going wrong; he has the command of
regular servants, without having to pay or manage them; he can have
whatever meal or refreshment he wants, at all hours, and served up as
in his own house. He orders just what he pleases, having no interest
to think of but his own. In short, it is impossible to suppose a
greater degree of liberty in living.
"Clubs, as far as my observation goes, are favourable to economy of
time. There is a fixed place to go to, everything is served with
comparative expedition, and it is not customary in general to remain
long at table. They are favourable to temperance. It seems that when
people can freely please themselves, and when they have an opportunity
of living simply, excess is seldom committed. From an account I have
of the expenses at the Athenæum in the year 1832, it appears that
17,323 dinners cost, on an average, 2_s._ 9¾_d._ each, and that the
average quantity of wine for each person was a small fraction more
than half-a-pint.
"The expense of building the Club-house was 35,000_l._, and 5,000_l._
for furnishing; the plate, linen, and glass cost 2,500_l._; library,
4,000_l._, and the stock of wine in cellar is usually worth about
4000_l._: yearly revenue about 9000_l._"
The economical management of the Club has not, however, been effected
without a few sallies of humour. In 1834, we read: "The mixture of
Whigs, Radicals, _savants_, foreigners, dandies, authors, soldiers,
sailors, lawyers, artists, doctors, and Members of both Houses of
Parliament, together with an exceedingly good average supply of
bishops, render the _mélange_ very agreeable, despite of some two or
three bores, who 'continually do dine;' and who, not satisfied with
getting a 6_s._ dinner for 3_s._ 6_d._, 'continually do complain.'"
Mr. Rogers, the poet, was one of the earliest members of the Athenæum,
and innumerable are the good things, though often barbed with
bitterness, which are recorded of him.
Some years ago, judges, bishops, and peers used to congregate at the
Athenæum; but a club of twelve hundred members cannot be select.
"Warned by the necessity of keeping up their number and their funds,
they foolishly set abroad a report that the finest thing in the world
was to belong to the Athenæum; and that an opportunity offered for
hobnobbing with archbishops, and hearing Theodore Hook's jokes.
Consequently all the little crawlers and parasites, and
gentility-hunters, from all corners of London, set out upon the creep;
and they crept in at the windows and they crept down the area steps,
and they crept in unseen at the doors, and they crept in under
bishops' sleeves, and they crept in in peers' pockets, and they were
blown in by the winds of chance. The consequence has been, that
ninety-nine hundredths of this Club are people who rather seek to
obtain a sort of standing by belonging to the Athenæum, than to give
it lustre by the talent of its members. Nine-tenths of the
intellectual writers of the age would be certainly black-balled by the
dunces. Notwithstanding all this, and partly on account of this, the
Athenæum is a capital Club: the library is certainly the best Club
library in London, and is a great advantage to a man who writes."[22]
Theodore Hook was one of the most clubbable men of his time. After a
late breakfast, he would force and strain himself at large arrears of
literary toil, and then drive rapidly from Fulham to town, and pay a
visit "first to one Club, where, the centre of an admiring circle, his
intellectual faculties were again upon the stretch, and again aroused
and sustained by artificial means: the same thing repeated at a
second--the same drain and the same supply--ballot or general meeting
at a third, the chair taken by Mr. Hook, who addresses the members,
produces the accounts, audits and passes them--gives a succinct
statement of the prospects and finances of the Society--parries an
awkward question--extinguishes a grumbler--confounds an
opponent--proposes a vote of thanks to himself, seconds, carries
it,--and returns thanks, with a vivacious rapidity that entirely
confounds the unorganized schemes of the minority--then a chop in the
committee-room, and just one tumbler of brandy-and-water, or _two_,
and we fear the catalogue would not always close there."
At the Athenæum, Hook was a great card; and in a note to the sketch of
him in the _Quarterly Review_, it is stated that the number of dinners
at this Club fell off by upwards of three hundred per annum after Hook
disappeared from his favourite corner, near the door of the
coffee-room. That is to say, there must have been some dozens of
gentlemen who chose to dine there once or twice every week of the
season, merely for the chance of Hook's being there, and permitting
them to draw their chairs to his little table in the course of the
evening. Of the extent to which he suffered from this sort of
invasion, there are several bitter oblique complaints in his novels.
The _corner_ alluded to will, we suppose, long retain the name which
it derived from him--_Temperance Corner_. Many grave and dignified
personages being frequent guests, it would hardly have been seemly to
be calling for repeated supplies of a certain description; but the
waiters well understood what the oracle of the corner meant by
"Another glass of toast and water," or, "A little more lemonade."
FOOTNOTES:
[22] New Quarterly Review.
THE UNIVERSITY CLUB.
In Suffolk-street, Pall Mall East, was instituted in 1824, and the
Club-house, designed by Deering and Wilkins, architects, was opened
in 1826. It is of the Grecian Doric and Ionic orders; and the staircase
walls have casts from the Parthenon frieze. The Club consists chiefly
of Members of Parliament who have received University education;
several of the judges, and a large number of beneficed clergymen. This
Club has the reputation of possessing the best stocked wine-cellar in
London, which is of no small importance to Members, clerical or lay.
ECONOMY OF CLUBS.
Thirty years ago, Mr. Walker took some pains to disabuse the public
mind of a false notion that female society was much affected by the
multiplication of Clubs. He remarks that in those hours of the
evening, which are peculiarly dedicated to society, he could scarcely
count twenty members in the suite of rooms upstairs at the Athenæum
Club. If female society be neglected, he contended that it was not
owing to the institution of Clubs, but more probably to the long
sittings of the House of Commons, and to the want of easy access to
family circles. At the Athenæum he never heard it even hinted, that
married men frequented it to the prejudice of their domestic habits,
or that bachelors were kept from general society. Indeed, Mr. Walker
maintains, that Clubs are a preparation and not a substitute for
domestic life. Compared with the previous system of living, they
induce habits of economy, temperance, refinement, regularity, and good
order. Still, a Club only offers an imitation of the comforts of home,
but only an imitation, and one which will never supersede the reality.
However, the question became a subject for pleasant satire. Mrs. Gore,
in one of her clever novels, has these shrewd remarks:--"London Clubs,
after all, are not bad things for family men. They act as conductors
to the storms usually hovering in the air. The man forced to remain at
home and vent his crossness on his wife and children, is a much worse
animal to bear with, than the man who grumbles his way to Pall Mall,
and not daring to swear at the Club-servants, or knock about the
club-furniture, becomes socialized into decency. Nothing like the
subordination exercised in a community of equals for reducing a fiery
temper."