year 1824, some young men at a humble tavern, the Wrekin, in the
genial neighbourhood of Covent Garden, with Shakspeare as their common
idol; and "it was a regulation of this Club that some paper, or poem,
or conceit, bearing upon Shakspeare, should be contributed by each
member." Hither came Douglas Jerrold, and he was soon joined by Laman
Blanchard. Upon Jerrold's suggestion, the Club was called the
Mulberries, and their contributions were entitled Mulberry Leaves. In
the Club were William Godwin; Kenny Meadows, the future illustrator of
Shakspeare; W. Elton, the Shakspearean actor; and Edward Chatfield,
the artist. Mr. Jerrold wrote, in the _Illuminated Magazine_, a
touching memoir of the Society--"that knot of wise and jocund men,
then unknown, but gaily struggling."
The Mulberry Club lived many years, and gathered a valuable crop of
leaves--contributions from its members. They fell into Mr. Elton's
hands, and are now in the possession of his family. They were to have
been published, but no one would undertake to see them through the
press--an office which, in most cases, is a very un-thankful one. The
Club did not, however, die easily: it was changed and grafted. "In
times nearer the present, when it was called the Shakspeare Club,
Charles Dickens, Mr. Justice Talfourd, Daniel Maclise, Mr. Macready,
Mr. Frank Stone, etc. belonged to it. Respectability killed it." But
some delightful results of these Mulberry Club meetings are embalmed
in Mr. Jerrold's _Cakes and Ale_, and their life reminds one of the
dancing motes in the latter. Then we hear of other clubs--the Gratis
and the Rationals, of which Jerrold was a member.
"But," says the gentle Memoir, "with clubs of more recent date, with
the Hooks and Eyes, and lastly, with Our Club, Douglas Jerrold's name
is most intimately associated. It may be justly said that he was the
life and soul of these three gatherings of men. His arrival was a
happy moment for members already present. His company was sought with
wondrous eagerness whenever a dinner or social evening was
contemplated; for, as a club associate said of him, 'he sparkled
whenever you touched him, like the sea at night.' A writer in the
_Quarterly Review_ well said of him: 'In the bright sallies of
conversational wit he has no surviving equal.'
"He was thus greatly acceptable in all social literary Clubs. In the
Museum Club, for instance, (an attempt made in 1847 to establish a
properly modest and _real_ literary Club,) he was unquestionably _the_
member; for he was the most clubbable of men." When members dropped
in, sharp shots were possibly exchanged: here are a few that were
actually fired within the precincts of the Museum Club--fired
carelessly, and forgotten:
Jerrold defined dogmatism as "puppyism come to maturity;" and a
flaming uxorious epitaph put up by a famous cook, on his wife's tomb,
as "mock turtle." A prosy old gentleman, meeting him as he was passing
at his usual quick pace along Regent Street, poised himself into an
attitude, and began: "Well, Jerrold, my dear boy, what is going
on?"--"I am," said the wit, instantly shooting off.
At a dinner of artists, a barrister present, having his health drunk
in connexion with the law, began an embarrassed answer by saying he
did not see how the law could be considered one of the arts, when
Jerrold jerked in the word _black_, and threw the company into
convulsions.
A bore remarking how charmed he was with a certain opera, and that
there was one particular song which always carried him quite
away--"Would that I could sing it!" ejaculated the wit.
A dinner is discussed. Douglas Jerrold listens quietly, possibly tired
of dinners, and declining pressing invitations to be present. In a few
minutes he will chime in, "If an earthquake were to engulf England
to-morrow, the English would manage to meet and dine somewhere among
the rubbish, just to celebrate the event."
A friend is anxious to awaken Mr. Jerrold's sympathies in behalf of a
mutual acquaintance who is in want of a round sum of money. But this
mutual friend has already sent his hat about among his literary
brethren on more than one occasion. Mr. ----'s hat is becoming an
institution, and friends were grieved at the indelicacy of the
proceeding. On the above occasion, the bearer of the hat was received
with evident dissatisfaction. "Well," said Douglas Jerrold, "how much
does ---- want this time?"--"Why, just a four and two noughts will, I
think, put him straight," the bearer of the hat replied.
_Jerrold_--"Well, put me down for one of the noughts."
"The Chain of Events," playing at the Lyceum Theatre, though
unsuccessful, is mentioned. "Humph!" said Douglas Jerrold, "I'm afraid
the manager will find it a door-chain strong enough to keep everybody
out of the house,"--and so it proved.
Douglas Jerrold is seriously disappointed with a certain book written
by one of his friends, and has expressed his disappointment.
_Friend_--"I have heard that you said ---- was the worst book I ever
wrote." _Jerrold_--"No, I didn't; I said it was the worst book anybody
ever wrote."
A supper of sheep's-heads is proposed, and presently served. One
gentleman present is particularly enthusiastic on the excellence of
the dish, and, as he throws down his knife and fork, exclaims, "Well,
sheep's-heads for ever, say I!" _Jerrold_--"There's egotism!"
During a stormy discussion, a gentleman rises to settle the matter in
dispute. Waving his hands majestically over the excited disputants, he
begins: "Gentlemen, all I want is common sense."--"Exactly," says
Douglas Jerrold, "that is precisely what you _do_ want."
But the Museum Club was broken up by troubled spirits. Then succeeded
the Hooks and Eyes; then the Club, a social weekly gathering, which
Jerrold attended only three weeks before his death. Hence some of his
best sayings went forth.
Jerrold ordered a bottle of old port; "not _elder_ port," he said.
Walking to his Club with a friend from the theatre, some intoxicated
young gentleman reeled up to the dramatist and said, "Can you tell me
the way to the Judge and Jury?"--"Keep on as you are, young
gentleman," was the reply; "you're sure to overtake them."
Asking about the talent of a young painter, his companion declared
that the youth was mediocre. "Oh!" was the reply, "the very worst
ochre an artist can set to work with."
"The laughing hours, when these poor gatherings," says Mr. Blanchard
Jerrold, "fell from the well-loaded branch, are remembered still in
the rooms of Our Club; and the hearty laugh still echoes there, and
will, it is my pride to believe, always live in the memory of that
genial and refined circle."
The Whittington Club originated in 1846, with Douglas Jerrold, who
became its first President. It was established at the Crown and Anchor
Tavern in the Strand; where, in the ball-room, hung a picture of
Whittington listening to Bow-bells, painted by Newenham, and presented
to the Club by the President. All the Club premises were destroyed by
fire in 1854; the picture was not saved, but fortunately it had been
cleverly engraved. The premises have been rebuilt, and the Club still
flourishes.
CHESS CLUBS.
The Clubs in various parts of the Metropolis and the suburbs, where
Chess, and Chess only, forms the staple recreation of the members, are
numerous. We must, however, confine ourselves to the historical data
of the early Clubs, which record the introduction of the noble game in
the Metropolis.
In 1747, the principal if not the only Chess-Club in the Metropolis
met at Slaughter's Coffee-house, St. Martin's-lane. The leading
players of this Club were--Sir Abraham Janssen, Philip Stamma (from
Aleppo), Lord Godolphin, Lord Sunderland, and Lord Elibank;
Cunningham, the historian; Dr. Black and Dr. Cowper; and it was
through their invitation that the celebrated Philidor was induced to
visit England.
Another Club was shortly afterwards founded at the Salopian
Coffee-house, Charing Cross: and a few years later, a third, which met
next door to the Thatched House Tavern, in St. James's-street. It was
here that Philidor exhibited his wonderful faculty for playing
blindfold; some instances of which we find in the newspapers of the
period:--
"Yesterday, at the Chess-Club in St. James's-street, Monsieur Philidor
performed one of those wonderful exhibitions for which he is so much
celebrated. He played _three different games at once_ without seeing
either of the tables. His opponents were Count Bruhl and Mr. Bowdler
(the two best players in London), and Mr. Maseres. He defeated Count
Bruhl in one hour and twenty minutes, and Mr. Maseres in two hours;
Mr. Bowdler reduced his games to a drawn battle in one hour and
three-quarters. To those who understand Chess, this exertion of M.
Philidor's abilities must appear one of the greatest of which the
human memory is susceptible. He goes through it with astonishing
accuracy, and often corrects mistakes in those who have the board
before them."
In 1795, the veteran, then nearly seventy years of age, played three
blindfold matches in public. The last of these, which came off shortly
before his death, we find announced in the daily newspapers thus:--
"CHESS-CLUB, 1795. PARSLOE'S, ST. JAMES'S STREET.
"By particular desire, Mons. Philidor, positively for the last time,
will play on Saturday, the 20th of June, at two o'clock precisely,
three games at once against three good players; two of them without
seeing either of the boards, and the third looking over the table. He
most respectfully invites all the members of the Chess-Club to honour
him with their presence. Ladies and gentlemen not belonging to the
Club may be provided with tickets at the above-mentioned house, to see
the match, at five shillings each."
Upon the death of Philidor, the Chess-Clubs at the West-end seem to
have declined; and in 1807, the stronghold and rallying-point for the
lovers of the game was "The London Chess-Club," which was established
in the City, and for many years held its meetings at Tom's
Coffee-house, in Cornhill. To this Club we are indebted for many of
the finest chess-players of the age.
About the year 1833, a Club was founded by a few amateurs in
Bedford-street, Covent Garden. This establishment, which obtained
remarkable celebrity as the arena of the famous contests between La
Bourdonnais and M'Donnell, was dissolved in 1840; but shortly
afterwards, through the exertions of Mr. Staunton, was reformed under
the name of the "St. George's Club," in Cavendish-square.
APPENDIX.
ALMACK'S.
(Page 86.)
Captain Gronow, writing in 1814, says: "At the present time, one can
hardly conceive the importance which was attached to getting admission
to Almack's, the seventh heaven of the fashionable world." Of the
three hundred officers of the Foot Guards, not more than half-a-dozen
were honoured with vouchers of admission to this exclusive temple of
the _beau monde_; the gates of which were guarded by lady patronesses,
whose smiles or frowns consigned men and women to happiness or
despair. These lady patronesses were the Ladies Castlereagh, Jersey,
Cowper, and Sefton; Mrs. Drummond Burrell, now Lady Willoughby; the
Princess Esterhazy, and the Countess Lieven.
"The most popular amongst these _grandes dames_ were unquestionably
Lady Cowper, now Lady Palmerston. Lady Jersey's bearing, on the
contrary, was that of a theatrical tragedy queen: and whilst
attempting the sublime, she frequently made herself simply ridiculous,
being inconceivably rude, and in her manner often ill-bred. Lady
Sefton was kind and amiable; Madame de Lieven haughty and exclusive;
Princess Esterhazy was a _bon enfant_; Lady Castlereagh and Miss
Burrell, _de très grandes dames_.
"Many diplomatic arts, much finesse, and a host of intrigues, were set
in motion to get an invitation to Almack's. Very often persons, whose
rank and fortunes entitled them to the _entrée_ anywhere, were
excluded by the cliqueism of the lady patronesses; for the female
government of Almack's was a pure despotism, and subject to all the
caprices of despotic rule: it is needless to add that, like every
other despotism, it was not innocent of abuses. The fair ladies who
ruled supreme over this little dancing and gossiping world, issued a
solemn proclamation, that no gentleman should appear at the assemblies
without being dressed in knee-breeches, white cravat, and _chapeau
bras_. On one occasion, the Duke of Wellington was about to ascend the
staircase of the ball-room, dressed in black trousers, when the
vigilant Mr. Willis, the guardian of the establishment, stepped
forward and said, 'Your Grace cannot be admitted in trousers;'
whereupon the Duke, who had a great respect for orders and
regulations, quietly walked away.
"In 1814, the dances at Almack's were Scotch reels, and the old
English country-dance; the orchestra, being from Edinburgh, was
conducted by the then celebrated Neil Gow. In 1815, Lady Jersey
introduced from Paris the favourite quadrille. The persons who formed
the very first quadrille that was ever danced at Almack's were Lady
Jersey, Lady Harriett Butler, Lady Susan Ryder, and Miss Montgomery;
the men being the Count St. Aldegonde, Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Montague,
and Charles Standish. The mazy waltz was also brought to us about
this time; but there were comparatively few who at first ventured to
whirl round the salons of Almack's; in course of time Lord Palmerston
might, however, have been seen describing an infinite number of
circles with Madame de Lieven. Baron de Neumann was frequently seen
perpetually turning with the Princess Esterhazy; and in course of
time, the waltzing mania, having turned the heads of society
generally, descended to their feet, and the waltz was practised in the
morning in certain noble mansions in London with unparalleled
assiduity."--_Abridged from the Reminiscences of Captain Gronow,
1862._
CLUBS AT THE THATCHED HOUSE.
Mr. Willis took this tavern from Mr. Freere, about 1755; and, as a
relative of Mr. Almack, afterwards succeeded to the celebrated
assembly-rooms which bore his name. "If the old saw, that 'practice
makes perfect,'" writes Admiral Smyth, "be correct, the _cuisinerie_ of
the Thatched House ought to surpass that of all others; for besides
accidental parties and visitors, the Messrs Willis ably entertain the
following Societies and Clubs: [this was written in 1860.]
Actuaries, Institute of.
Catch Club.
Club, Johnson's.
Cornish Club.
Dilettanti Society.
Farmers' Club.
Geographical Club.
Geological Club.
Linnæan Club.
Literary Society.
Navy Club.
Philosophical Club.
Physicians, College of, Club.
Political Economy Club.
Royal Academy Club.
Royal Astronomical Club.
Royal Institution Club.
Royal London Yacht Club.
Royal Naval Club, (1765).
Royal Society Club.
St. Albans Medical Club.
St. Bartholomew's Contemporaries.
Star Club.
Statistical Club.
Sussex Club.
Union Society, St. James's.
And they moreover accommodate the following Masonic Lodges:--
Friendship.
Prince of Wales's.
Middlesex.
Chapter of Friendship.
Chapter of Prince of Wales's.
Mount Mosiah Chapter.
Castle Lodge of Harmony.
The Knights Templars.
Britannic Lodge.
THE KIT-KAT CLUB.
(Page 62.)
Charles Dartiquenane, better known by the abbreviated name of
Dartineuf, was the intimate friend and associate of Swift, Steele, and
Addison, and a member of the Kit-Kat Club. He was not only famous as
an epicure, but as a punster. He is said to have been a contributor to
the _Tatler_, though his papers cannot now be ascertained. Pope, in
his _Epistles_, has:
"Each mortal has his pleasure, none deny--
Scarsdale his bottle, Darty his Ham Pie.
. . . . .
Hard task to suit the palate of such guests,
When Oldfield loves what Dartineuf detests."
Lord Lyttelton has a Dialogue in the Shades between Dartineuf and
Apicius, on good eating, in which ham pie is stated to have been the
favourite dainty of the former. Darty died in 1737, and is stated to
have left the receipt for his favourite pie with an old lady, who
transferred it to Dr. Kitchiner. (See his _Housekeeper's Oracle_,
1829, p. 249.)
WATIER'S CLUB.
(Page 168.)
Captain Gronow also relates the following account of the origin of
this noted but short-lived Club:--
Upon one occasion, some gentlemen of both White's and Brookes's had
the honour to dine with the Prince Regent, and during the
conversation, the Prince inquired what sort of dinners they got at
their Clubs; upon which Sir Thomas Stepney, one of the guests,
observed "that their dinners were always the same, the eternal joints
or beef-steaks, the boiled fowl with oyster sauce, and an apple-tart;
this is what we have at our Clubs, and very monotonous fare it is."
The Prince, without further remark, rang the bell for his cook Watier,
and in the presence of those who dined at the Royal table, asked him
whether he would take a house, and organize a dinner-club. Watier
assented, and named Madison, the Prince's page, manager; and Labourie,
the cook, from the Royal kitchen. The Club flourished only a few
years, owing to the night-play that was carried on there. The Duke of
York patronized it, and was a member. The dinners were exquisite: the
best Parisian cooks could not beat Labourie. The favourite game played
there was Macao. Upon one occasion, Jack Bouverie, brother of Lord
Heytesbury, was losing large sums, and became very irritable. Raikes,
with bad taste, laughed at Bouverie, and attempted to amuse the
company with some of his stale jokes; upon which Bouverie threw his
play-bowl, with the few counters it contained, at Raikes's head;
unfortunately, it struck him, and made the City dandy angry, but no
serious results followed this open insult.
CLUBS OF 1814.
Captain Gronow, in his very entertaining _Anecdotes and
Reminiscences_, gives these details of the Clubs of the above
period:--
"The members of the Clubs in London, many years since, were persons,
almost without exception, belonging exclusively to the aristocratic
world. 'My tradesmen,' as King Allen used to call the bankers and the
merchants, had not then invaded White's, Boodle's, Brookes's; or
Watier's, in Bolton-street, Piccadilly; which, with the Guards,
Arthur's, and Graham's, were the only Clubs at the West End of the
town. White's was decidedly the most difficult of entry; its list of
members comprised nearly all the noble names of Great Britain.
"The politics of White's Club were then decidedly Tory. It was here
that play was carried on to such an extent that made many ravages in
large fortunes, the traces of which have not disappeared at the
present day. General Scott, the father-in-law of George Canning and
the Duke of Portland, was known to have won at White's 200,000_l._;
thanks to his notorious sobriety and knowledge of the game of whist.
The General possessed a great advantage over his companions by
avoiding those indulgences at the table which used to muddle other
men's brains. He confined himself to dining off something like a
boiled chicken, with toast-and-water: by such a regimen he came to the
whist-table with a clear head; and, possessing, as he did, a
remarkable memory, with great coolness and judgment, he was able
honestly to win the enormous sum of 200,000_l._
"At Brookes's, for nearly half a century, the play was of a more
gambling character than at White's.... On one occasion Lord Robert
Spencer contrived to lose the last shilling of his considerable
fortune given him by his brother, the Duke of Marlborough. General
Fitzpatrick being much in the same condition, they agreed to raise a
sum of money, in order that they might keep a faro-bank. The members
of the Club made no objection, and ere long they carried out their
design. As is generally the case, the bank was a winner, and Lord
Robert bagged, as his share of the proceeds, 100,000_l._ He retired,
strange to say, from the foetid atmosphere of play, with the money
in his pocket, and never again gambled. George Harley Drummond, of the
famous banking-house, Charing Cross, only played once in his whole
life at White's Club at whist, on which occasion he lost 20,000_l._ to
Brummell. This even caused him to retire from the banking-house, of
which he was a partner."
Arthur's and Graham's were less aristocratic than those Clubs I have
mentioned. It was at the latter place, in 1832, that a most painful
circumstance took place. A nobleman of the highest position and
influence in society, was detected in cheating at cards, and after a
trial, which did not terminate in his favour, he died of a broken
heart.
GAMING-HOUSES KEPT BY LADIES.
The following curious piece of evidence, probably an extract from the
Journals of the House of Lords, although there is no reference to the
subject in the published "Parliamentary Debates," was found not long
since by the Editor of the _Athenæum_ amongst a mass of contemporary
MSS.:--
"Die Lunæ, 29° Aprilis, 1745.--Gaming.--A Bill for preventing the
excessive and deceitful use of it having been brought from the
Commons, and proceeded on so far as to be agreed to in a Committee of
the whole House with amendments,--information was given to the House
that Mr. Burdus, Chairman of the Quarter Session for the city and
liberty of Westminster, Sir Thomas de Veil, and Mr. Lane, Chairman of
the Quarter Sessions for the county of Middlesex, were at the door;
they were called in, and at the Bar severally gave an account that
claims of privilege of Peerage were made and insisted on by the Ladies
Mordington and Cassillis, in order to intimidate the peace officers
from doing their duty in suppressing the public gaming-houses kept by
the said ladies. And the said Burdus thereupon delivered in an
instrument in writing under the hand of the said Lady Mordington,
containing the claim she made of privilege for her officers and
servants employed by her in her said gaming-house.--And then they were
directed to withdraw.--And the said instrument was read as
follows:--'I, Dame Mary, Baroness of Mordington, do hold a house in
the Great Piazza, Covent Garden, for and as an Assembly, where all
persons of credit are at liberty to frequent and play at such
diversions as are used at other Assemblys. And I have hired Joseph
Dewberry, William Horsely, Ham Cropper, and George Sanders as my
servants or managers (under me) thereof. I have given them orders to
direct the management of the other inferior servants, (namely) John
Bright, Richard Davids, John Hill, John Vandenvoren, as
box-keepers,--Gilbert Richardson, housekeeper, John Chaplain,
regulator, William Stanley and Henry Huggins, servants that wait on
the company as the said Assembly, William Penny and Joseph Penny as
porters thereof--And all the above-mentioned persons I claim as my
domestick servants, and demand all those privileges that belong to me
as a peeress of Great Britain appertaining to my said Assembly.--M.
MORDINGTON.--Dated 8th Jan. 1744.'--Resolved and declared that no
person is entitled to privilege of Peerage against any prosecution or
proceeding for keeping any public or common gaming-house, or any
house, room, or place for playing at any game or games prohibited by
any law now in force."
END OF VOL. I.
PRINTED BY J. E. TAYLOR, LITTLE QUEEN STREET, HOLBORN.
End of Project Gutenberg's Club Life of London, Vol. I (of 2), by John Timbs