rich vein of comic humour, and here is the amusing result:--
"CLUBS,
"TURNED UP BY A FEMALE HAND.
"Of all the modern schemes of Man
That time has brought to bear,
A plague upon the wicked plan
That parts the wedded pair!
My female friends they all agree
They hardly know their hubs;
And heart and voice unite with me,
'We hate the name of Clubs!'
"One selfish course the Wretches keep;
They come at morning chimes;
To snatch a few short hours of sleep--
Rise--breakfast--read the Times--
Then take their hats, and post away,
Like Clerks or City scrubs,
And no one sees them all the day,--
They live, eat, drink, at Clubs!
"With Rundell, Dr. K., or Glasse,
And such Domestic books,
They once put up, but now, alas!
It's hey! for foreign cooks.
'When _will_ you dine at home, my dove?'
I say to Mr. Stubbs.
'When Cook can make an omelette, love--
An omelette like the Clubs!'
"Time was, their hearts were only placed
On snug domestic schemes,
The book for two--united taste,--
And such connubial dreams,--
Friends, dropping in at close of day,
To singles, doubles, rubs,--
A little music,--then the tray,--
And not a word of Clubs!
"But former comforts they condemn;
French kickshaws they discuss,
And take their wine, the wine takes them,
And then they favour us;--
From some offence they can't digest,
As cross as bears with cubs,
Or sleepy, dull, and queer, at best--
That's how they come from Clubs!
"It's very fine to say, 'Subscribe
To Andrews'--can't you read?
When Wives, the poor neglected tribe,
Complain how they proceed!
They'd better recommend at once
Philosophy and tubs,--
A woman need not be a dunce,
To feel the wrong of Clubs.
"A set of savage Goths and Picts
Would seek us now and then,--
They're pretty pattern-Benedicts
To guide our single men!
Indeed, my daughters both declare
'Their Beaux shall not be subs
To White's, or Black's, or anywhere,--
They've seen enough of Clubs!'
"They say, without the marriage ties,
They can devote their hours
To catechize, or botanize--
Shells, Sunday Schools, and flow'rs--
Or teach a Pretty Poll new words,
Tend Covent Garden shrubs,
Nurse dogs and chirp to little birds--
As Wives do since the Clubs.
"Alas! for those departed days
Of social wedded life,
When married folks had married ways,
And liv'd like Man and Wife!
Oh! Wedlock then was pick'd by none--
As safe a lock as Chubb's!
But couples, that should be as one,
Are now the Two of Clubs!
"Of all the modern schemes of Man
That time has brought to bear,
A plague upon the wicked plan,
That parts the wedded pair!
My wedded friends they all allow
They meet with slights and snubs,
And say, 'They have no husbands now,--
They're married to the Clubs!'"
The satire soon reached the stage. About five-and-twenty years since
there was produced at the old wooden Olympic Theatre, Mr. Mark Lemon's
farce, _The Ladies' Club_, which proved one of the most striking
pieces of the time. "Though in 1840 Clubs, in the modern sense of the
word, had been for some years established, they were not quite
recognized as social necessities, and the complaints of married ladies
and of dowagers with marriageable daughters, to the effect that these
institutions caused husbands to desert the domestic hearth and
encouraged bachelors to remain single, expressed something of a
general feeling. Public opinion was ostentatiously on the side of the
ladies and against the Clubs, and to this opinion Mr. Mark Lemon
responded when he wrote his most successful farce."[23]
Here are a few experiences of Club-life. "There are many British
lions in the coffee-room who have dined off a joint and beer, and have
drunk a pint of port-wine afterwards, and whose bill is but 4_s._
3_d._ One great luxury in a modern Club is that there is no temptation
to ostentatious expense. At an hotel there is an inclination in some
natures to be 'a good customer.' At a Club the best men are generally
the most frugal--they are afraid of being thought like that little
snob, Calicot, who is always surrounded by fine dishes and expensive
wines (even when alone), and is always in loud talk with the butler,
and in correspondence with the committee about the cook. Calicot is a
rich man, with a large bottle-nose, and people black-ball his friends.
"For a home, a man must have a large Club, where the members are
recruited from a large class, where the funds are in a good state,
where a large number every day breakfast and dine, and where a goodly
number think it necessary to be on the books and pay their
subscriptions, although they do not use the Club. Above all, your home
Club should be a large Club, because, even if a Club be ever so
select, the highest birth and most unexceptionable fashion do not
prevent a man from being a _bore_. Every Club must have its bores; but
in a large Club _you can get out of their way_."[24]
"It is a vulgar error to regard a Club as the rich man's public-house:
it bears no analogy to a public-house: it is as much the private
property of its members as any ordinary dwelling-house is the property
of the man who built it.
"Our Clubs are thoroughly characteristic of us. We are a _proud_
people,--it is of no use denying it,--and have a horror of
indiscriminate association; hence the exclusiveness of our Clubs.
"We are an _economical_ people, and love to obtain the greatest
possible amount of luxury at the least possible expense: hence, at our
Clubs we dine at prime cost, and drink the finest wines at a price
which we should have to pay for slow poison at a third-rate inn.
"We are a _domestic_ people, and hence our Clubs afford us all the
comforts of home, when we are away from home, or when we have none.
Finally, we are a _quarrelsome_ people, and the Clubs are eminently
adapted for the indulgence of that amiable taste. A book is kept
constantly open to receive the outpourings of our ill-humour against
all persons and things. The smokers quarrel with the non-smokers: the
billiard-players wage war against those who don't play; and, in fact,
an internecine war is constantly going on upon every conceivable
trifle; and when we retire exhausted from the fray, sofas and _chaises
longues_ are everywhere at hand, whereon to repose _in extenso_. The
London Clubs are certainly the abodes of earthly bliss, yet the ladies
won't think so."[25]
FOOTNOTES:
[23] _Times_ journal.
[24] New Quarterly Review.
THE UNION CLUB.
This noble Club-house, at the south-west angle of Trafalgar-square,
was erected in 1824, from designs by Sir Robert Smirke, R.A. It is
much less ornate than the Club-houses of later date; but its
apartments are spacious and handsome, and it faces one of the finest
open spaces in the metropolis. As its name implies, it consists of
politicians, and professional and mercantile men, without reference
to party opinions; and, it has been added, is "a resort of wealthy
citizens, who just fetch Charing Cross to inhale the fresh air as it
is drawn from the Park through the funnel, by Berkeley House, out of
Spring Gardens, into their bay-window."
James Smith, one of the authors of the _Rejected Addresses_, was a
member of the Union, which he describes as chiefly composed of
merchants, lawyers, members of Parliament, and of "gentlemen at
large." He thus sketches a day's life here. "At three o'clock I walk
to the Union Club, read the journals, hear Lord John Russell deified
or diablerized, do the same with Sir Robert Peel or the Duke of
Wellington, and then join a knot of conversationists by the fire till
six o'clock. We then and there discuss the Three per Cent. Consols
(some of us preferring Dutch Two-and-a-half per Cents.), and speculate
upon the probable rise, shape, and cost of the New Exchange. If Lady
Harrington happen to drive past our window in her landau, we compare
her equipage to the Algerine Ambassador's; and when politics happen to
be discussed, rally Whigs, Radicals, and Conservatives alternately,
but never seriously, such subjects having a tendency to create
acrimony. At six, the room begins to be deserted; wherefore I adjourn
to the dining-room, and gravely looking over the bill of fare, exclaim
to the waiter, 'Haunch of mutton and apple-tart!' These viands
dispatched, with the accompanying liquids and water, I mount upward to
the library, take a book and my seat in the arm-chair, and read till
nine. Then call for a cup of coffee and a biscuit, resuming my book
till eleven; afterwards return home to bed." The smoking-room is a
very fine apartment.
One of the grumbling members of the Union was Sir James Aylott, a
two-bottle man; one day, observing Mr. James Smith furnished with
half-a-pint of sherry, Sir James eyed his cruet with contempt, and
exclaimed: "So, I see you have got one of those d--d life-preservers."
The Club has ever been famed for its _cuisine_, upon the strength of
which, we are told that next-door to the Club-house, in
Cockspur-street, was established the Union Hotel, which speedily
became renowned for its turtle; it was opened in 1823, and was one of
the best appointed hotels of its day; and Lord Panmure, a _gourmet_ of
the highest order, is said to have taken up his quarters in this
hotel, for several successive seasons, for the sake of the soup.[26]
FOOTNOTES:
[25] The Builder.
[26] London Clubs, 1853, p. 75.
THE GARRICK CLUB.
Mr. Thackeray was a hearty lover of London, and has left us many
evidences of his sincerity. He greatly favoured Covent Garden, of
which he has painted this clever picture, sketched from "the Garden,"
where are annually paid for fruits and vegetables some three millions
sterling:--
"The two great national theatres on one side, a churchyard full of
mouldy but undying celebrities on the other; a fringe of houses
studded in every part with anecdote and history; an arcade, often more
gloomy and deserted than a cathedral aisle; a rich cluster of brown
old taverns--one of them filled with the counterfeit presentment of
many actors long since silent, who scowl or smile once more from the
canvas upon the grandsons of their dead admirers; a something in the
air which breathes of old books, old pictures, old painters, and old
authors; a place beyond all other places one would choose in which to
hear the chimes at midnight; a crystal palace--the representative of
the present--which peeps in timidly from a corner upon many things of
the past; a withered bank, that has been sucked dry by a felonious
clerk; a squat building, with a hundred columns and chapel-looking
fronts, which always stands knee-deep in baskets, flowers, and
scattered vegetables; a common centre into which Nature showers her
choicest gifts, and where the kindly fruits of the earth often nearly
choke the narrow thoroughfares; a population that never seems to
sleep, and that does all in its power to prevent others sleeping; a
place where the very latest suppers and the earliest breakfasts jostle
each other on the footways--such is Covent-Garden Market, with some of
its surrounding features."
About a century and a quarter ago, the parish of St. Paul was,
according to John Thomas Smith, the only fashionable part of the town,
and the residence of a great number of persons of rank and title, and
artists of the first eminence; and also from the concourse of wits,
literary characters, and other men of genius, who frequented the
numerous coffee-houses, wine and cider cellars, jelly-shops, etc.,
within its boundaries, the list of whom particularly includes the
eminent names of Butler, Addison, Sir Richard Steele, Otway, Dryden,
Pope, Warburton, Cibber, Fielding, Churchill, Bolingbroke, and Dr.
Samuel Johnson; Rich, Woodward, Booth, Wilkes, Garrick, and Macklin;
Kitty Clive, Peg Woffington, Mrs. Pritchard, the Duchess of Bolton,
Lady Derby, Lady Thurlow, and the Duchess of St. Alban's; Sir Peter
Lely, Sir Godfrey Kneller, and Sir James Thornhill; Vandevelde,
Zincke, Lambert, Hogarth, Hayman, Wilson, Dance, Meyer, etc. The name
of Samuel Foote should be added.
Although the high fashion of the old place has long since ebbed away,
its theatrical celebrity remains; and the locality is storied with the
dramatic associations of two centuries. The Sublime Society of Steaks
have met upon this hallowed ground through a century; and some thirty
years ago there was established in the street leading from the
north-west angle of Covent-Garden Market, a Club, bearing the name of
our greatest actor. Such was the Garrick Club, instituted in 1831, at
No. 35, King-street, "for the purpose of bringing together the
'patrons' of the drama and its professors, and also for offering
literary men a rendezvous; and the managers of the Club have kept
those general objects steadily in view. Nearly all the leading actors
are members, and there are few of the active literary men of the day
who are not upon the list. The large majority of the association is
composed of the representatives of all the best classes of society.
The number of the members is limited, and the character of the Club is
social, and therefore the electing committee is compelled to exercise
very vigilant care, for it is clear that it would be better that ten
unobjectionable men should be excluded than that one terrible bore
should be admitted. The prosperity of the Club, and the eagerness to
obtain admission to it, are the best proofs of its healthy management;
and few of the cases of grievance alleged against the direction will
bear looking into."
The house in King-street was, previous to its occupation by the
Garrick men, a family hotel: it was rendered tolerably commodious, but
in course of time it was found insufficient for the increased number
of members; and in 1864, the Club removed to a new house built for
them a little more westward than the old one. But of the old place,
inconvenient as it was, will long be preserved the interest of
association. The house has since been taken down; but its memories are
embalmed in a gracefully written paper, by Mr. Shirley Brooks, which
appeared in the _Illustrated London News_, immediately before the
removal of the Club to their new quarters; and is as follows:--
"From James Smith (of _Rejected Addresses_) to Thackeray, there is a
long series of names of distinguished men who have made the Garrick
their favourite haunt, and whose memories are connected with those
rooms. The visitor who has had the good fortune to be taken through
them, that he might examine the unequalled collection of theatrical
portraits, will also retain a pleasant remembrance of the place. He
will recollect that he went up one side of a double flight of stone
steps from the street and entered a rather gloomy hall, in which was a
fine bust of Shakspeare, by Roubiliac, and some busts of celebrated
actors; and he may have noticed in the hall a tablet recording the
obligation of the Club to Mr. Durrant, who bequeathed to it the
pictures collected by the late Charles Mathews. Conducted to the left,
the visitor found himself in the strangers' dining-room, which
occupied the whole of the ground-floor. This apartment, where,
perhaps, more pleasant dinners had been given than in any room in
London, was closely hung with pictures. The newest was Mr. O'Neil's
admirable likeness of Mr. Keeley, and it hung over the fireplace in
the front room, near Sir Edwin Landseer's portrait of Charles Young.
There were many very interesting pictures in this room, among them a
Peg Woffington; Lee (the author of the Bedlam Tragedy, in nineteen
acts); Mrs. Pritchard, and Mr. Garrick, an admirable illustration of
'Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick six feet high;'
a most gentlemanly one of Pope the actor, Garrick again as Macbeth in
the court-dress, two charming little paintings of Miss Poole when a
child-performer, the late Frederick Yates, Mrs. Davison (of rare
beauty), Miss Lydia Kelly, and a rich store besides. The stranger
would probably be next conducted through a long passage until he
reached the smoking-room, which was not a cheerful apartment by
daylight, and empty; but which at night, and full, was thought the
most cheerful apartment in town. It was adorned with gifts from
artists who are members of the Club. Mr. Stanfield had given a
splendid seapiece, with a wash of waves that set one coveting an
excursion; and Mr. David Roberts had given a large and noble painting
of Baalbec, one of his finest works. These great pictures occupied two
sides of the room, and the other walls were similarly ornamented. Mrs.
Stirling's bright face looked down upon the smokers, and there was a
statuette of one who loved the room--the author of _Vanity Fair_.
"The visitor was then brought back to the hall, and taken upstairs to
the drawing-room floor. On the wall as he passed he would observe a
vast picture of Mr. Charles Kemble (long a member) as Macbeth, and a
Miss O'Neil as Juliet. He entered the coffee-room, as it was called,
which was the front room, looking into King-street, and behind which
was the morning-room, for newspapers and writing, and in which was the
small but excellent library, rich in dramatic works. The coffee-room
was devoted to the members' dinners; and the late Mr. Thackeray dined
for the last time away from home at a table in a niche in which hung
the scene from _The Clandestine Marriage_, where Lord Ogleby is
preparing to join the ladies. Over the fireplace was another scene
from the same play; and on the mantelpiece were Garrick's
candlesticks, Kean's ring, and some other relics of interest. The
paintings in this room were very valuable. There was Foote, by
Reynolds; a Sheridan; John Kemble; Charles Kemble as Charles II.
(under which picture he often sat in advanced life, when he in no
degree resembled the audacious, stalwart king in the painting); Mrs.
Charles Kemble, in male attire; Mrs. Fitzwilliam; Charles Mathews,
_père_; a fine, roystering Woodward, reminding one of the rattling
times of stage chivalry and 'victorious burgundy;' and in the
morning-room was a delightful Kitty Clive, another Garrick, and, near
the ceiling, a row of strong faces of by-gone days--Cooke the
strongest.
"On the second floor were numerous small and very characteristic
portraits; and in a press full of large folios was one of the
completest and most valuable of collections of theatrical prints. In
the card-room, behind this, were also some very quaint and curious
likenesses, one of Mrs. Liston, as Dollalolla. There was a sweet face
of 'the Prince's' Perdita, which excuses his infatuation and
aggravates his treachery. When the visitor had seen these things and
a few busts, among them one of the late Justice Talfourd (an old
member), he was informed that he had seen the collection and he could
go away, unless he were lucky enough to have an invitation to dine in
the strangers' room.
"The new Club-house is a little more westward than the old one, but
not much, the Garrick having resolved to cling to the classic region
around Covent-Garden. It is in Garrick-street from the west end of
King-street to Cranbourn-street. It has a frontage of ninety-six feet
to the street; but the rear was very difficult, from its shape, to
manage, and Mr. Marrable, the architect, has dealt very cleverly with
the quaint form over which he had to lay out his chambers. The house
is Italian, and is imposing, from having been judiciously and not
over-enriched. In the hall is a very beautiful Italian screen. The
noble staircase is of carved oak; at the top, a landing-place, from
which is entered the morning-room, the card-room, and the library. All
the apartments demanded by the habits of the day--some of them were
not thought necessary in the days of Garrick--are, of course provided.
The kitchens and all their arrangements are sumptuous, and the latest
culinary improvements are introduced. The system of sunlights appears
to be very complete, and devices for a perfect ventilation have not
been forgotten."
The pictures have been judiciously hung in the new rooms: they
include--Elliston as Octavian, by Singleton; Macklin (aged 93), by
Opie; Mrs. Pritchard, by Hayman; Peg Woffington, by R. Wilson; Nell
Gwynne, by Sir Peter Lely; Mrs. Abington; Samuel Foote, by Sir Joshua
Reynolds; Colley Cibber as Lord Foppington; Mrs. Bracegirdle; Kitty
Clive; Mrs. Robinson, after Reynolds; Garrick as Macbeth, and Mrs.
Pritchard, Lady Macbeth, by Zoffany; Garrick as Richard III., by
Morland, sen.; Young Roscius, by Opie; Quin, by Hogarth; Rich and his
family, by Hogarth; Charles Mathews, four characters, by Harlowe; Nat
Lee, painted in Bedlam; Anthony Leigh as the Spanish Friar, by
Kneller; John Liston, by Clint; Munden, by Opie; John Johnston, by
Shee; Lacy in three characters, by Wright; Scene from Charles II., by
Clint; Mrs. Siddons as Lady Macbeth, by Harlowe; J. P. Kemble as Cato,
by Lawrence; Macready as Henry IV., by Jackson; Edwin, by
Gainsborough; the twelve of the School of Garrick; Kean, Young,
Elliston, and Mrs. Inchbald, by Harlowe; Garrick as Richard III., by
Loutherbourg; Rich as Harlequin; Moody and Parsons in _The Committee_,
by Vandergucht; King as Touchstone, by Zoffany; Thomas Dogget;
Henderson, by Gainsborough; Elder Colman, by Reynolds; Mrs. Oldfield,
by Kneller; Mrs. Billington; Nancy Dawson; Screen Scene from _The
School for Scandal_, as originally cast; Scene from _Venice Preserved_
(Garrick and Mrs. Cibber), by Zoffany; Scene from _Macbeth_
(Henderson); Scene from _Love, Law, and Physic_ (Mathews, Liston,
Blanchard, and Emery), by Clint; Scene from _The Clandestine Marriage_
(King and Mr. and Mrs. Baddeley), by Zoffany; Weston as Billy Button,
by Zoffany.
The following have been presented to the Club:--Busts of Mrs. Siddons
and J. P. Kemble, by Mrs. Siddons; of Garrick, Captain Marryat, Dr.
Kitchiner, and Malibran; Garrick, by Roubiliac; Griffin and Johnson in
_The Alchemist_, by Von Bleeck; Miniatures of Mrs. Robinson and Peg
Woffington; Sketch of Kean by Lambert; Garrick Mulberry-tree
Snuff-box; Joseph Harris as Cardinal Wolsey, from the Strawberry Hill
Collection; Proof Print of the Trial of Queen Katherine, by Harlowe.
The Garrick men will, for the sake of justice, excuse the mention of a
short-coming: at the first dinner of the Club, from the list of toasts
was omitted "Shakspeare," who, it must be allowed, contributed to
Garrick's fame. David did not so forget the Bard, as is attested in
his statue by Roubiliac, which, after adorning the Garrick grounds at
Hampton, was bequeathed by the grateful actor to the British Museum.
The Club were entertained at a sumptuous dinner by their brother
member, Lord Mayor Moon, in the Egyptian Hall of the Mansion House, in
1855.
The Gin-punch made with iced soda-water, is a notable potation at the
Garrick; and the rightful patentee of the invention was Mr. Stephen
Price, an American gentleman, well known on the turf, and as the
lessee of Drury-lane Theatre. His title has been much disputed--
"Grammatici certant et adhuc sub judice lis est;"
and many, misled by Mr. Theodore Hook's frequent and liberal
application of the discovery, were in the habit of ascribing it to
him. But, Mr. Thomas Hill, the celebrated "trecentenarian" of a
popular song, who was present at Mr. Hook's first introduction to the
beverage, has set the matter at rest by a brief narration of the
circumstances. One hot afternoon, in July, 1835, the inimitable author
of _Sayings and Doings_ (what a book might be made of his own!)
strolled into the Garrick in that equivocal state of thirstiness which
it requires something more than common to quench. On describing the
sensation, he was recommended to make a trial of the punch, and a jug
was compounded immediately under the personal inspection of Mr. Price.
A second followed--a third, with the accompaniment of some chops--a
fourth--a fifth--a sixth--at the expiration of which Mr. Hook went
away to keep a dinner engagement at Lord Canterbury's. He always ate
little, and on this occasion he ate less, and Mr. Horace Twiss
inquired in a fitting tone of anxiety if he was ill. "Not exactly,"
was the reply; "but my stomach won't bear trifling with, and I was
tempted to take a biscuit and a glass of sherry about three."