Part 23

In 1855, Lord Mayor Moon, F.S.A., entertained at the Mansion House the Noviomagians, and the office-bearers of the Society of Antiquaries to meet them. After dinner, some short papers were read, including one by Mr. Lemon, of the State Paper Office, presenting some curious illustrations of the state of society in London in the reign of James I., showing the "Migration of Citizens Westward." (See _Romance of London_, vol. iii. pp. 315-320.)

THE ECCENTRICS.

Late in the last century there met at a tavern kept by one Fulham, in Chandos Street, Covent Garden, a convivial Club called "The Eccentrics," which was an offshoot of "The Brilliants." They next removed to Tom Rees's, in May's-buildings, St. Martin's-lane, and here they were flourishing at all hours, some five-and-twenty years since. Amongst the members were many celebrities of the literary and political world; they were always treated with indulgence by the authorities. An inaugural ceremony was performed upon the making of a member, which terminated with a jubilation from the President. The books of the Club up to the time of its removal from May's-buildings are stated to have passed into the possession of Mr. Lloyd, the hatter, of the Strand, who, by the way, was eccentric in his business, and published a small work descriptive of the various fashions of hats worn in his time, illustrated with characteristic engravings.

From its commencement the Eccentrics are said to have numbered upwards of 40,000 members, many of them holding high social position: among others, Fox, Sheridan, Lord Melbourne, and Lord Brougham. On the same memorable night that Sheridan and Lord Petersham were admitted, Hook was also enrolled; and through this Club membership, Theodore is believed to have obtained some of his high connexions. In a novel, published in numbers, some five-and-twenty years since, the author, F. W. N. Bayley, sketched with graphic vigour the meetings of the Eccentrics at the old tavern in May's-buildings.

DOUGLAS JERROLD'S CLUBS.

One of the chapters in "_The Life and Remains of Douglas Jerrold_," by his son, Blanchard Jerrold, discourses most pleasantly of the several Clubs to which Mr. Jerrold became attached. He was of a clubbable nature, and delighted in wit-combats and brilliant repartees, the flash of which was perfectly electric.

In this very agreeable _précis_, we find that towards the end of the 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.:--