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ILLUSTRATED HANDBOOK FOR THE SEASON 1887
CHARLES EYRE PASCOE
WEDDING CAKES.
WILLIAM BUSZARD.
WEDDING CAKES OF
FINEST QUALITY
ONLY,
CAKES OF ANY MAGNITUDE
ALWAYS READY.
Prices from 1 to CO Guineas.
SPACIOUS SHOW ROOMS, WHERE A LARGE
AND VARIED ASSORTMENT CAN
ALWAYS BE SEEN.
Illustrated Catalogues sent Gratis on Application.
197, OXFORD STREET,
LONDON, W.
7*
BROWN'S HOTEL,
21, 22, 23, 24, Dover Street, and 31, Albemarle Street.
ELECTRIC LIGHT IN ALL SITTING & BEDROOMS.
SUITES OF ROOMS WITH FITTED BATHS.
PUBLIC DRAWING: AND DINING
ROOMS, ETC.
ELEVATORS, TELEPHONES, NEWS TAPE, ETC.
JVo charge for Attendance or Electric Light.
Inclusive prices given if desired.
Entrances in Dover and Albemarle Streets.
AND
PULTENEY HOTEL,
13, Albemarle Street.
{Opposite the Albemarle Street Entrance of Brown 's Hotel.)
ELECTRIC LIGHT THROUGHOUT.
J. J. FORD AND SONS, Proprietors.
Telephone, No. 3696.
Telegraphic Address :
BROWNOTEL, LONDON.
THE CIVIL SERVICE CO-OPERATIVE SOCIETY,
LIMITED.
283 Haymarket London, S.W,
[Established 1866.]
In compliance with the request of several influential clients, the Directors now afford facilities for dealing at the Store, to Americans who may be visiting, or temporarily residing in, London.
Particulars as to Membership can be obtained on application to the Secretary.
THE STORE COMPRISES THE FOL- LOWING DEPARTMENTS:-
ARTISTS' COLOURS AND MATE- RIALS,
BEDSTEADS, BEDDING, ETC.
BICYCLES AND TRICYCLES,
BOOKS AND MUSIC,
BOOTS AND SHOES,
BRUSHES.
CARPETS, CURTAINS, FLOOR CLOTH, ETC,
CARRIAGES, ETC
CHEMICALS, DRUGS, MEDI- CINES, ETC,
CHINA, GLASS, EARTHENWARE, ETC,
CIGARS, TOBACCO, PIPES, ETC,
CUTLERY, ETC,
DRAPERY, HOSIERY, UM- BRELLAS, ETC.
DRESSES, MANTLES, ETC,
ELECTRO-PLATE, SILVER, ETC.
FISHING RODS, TACKLE, ETC.
FLOWERS.
FRESH MEAT,
FRUITS, SWEETS, ETC,
FURNITURE,
GAMES, ETC.
GROCERY,
GUNS, AMMUNITION, ETC.
HABERDASHERY,
HATS, ETC,
IRONMONGERY, BATHS, ETC,
JEWELRY.
LADIES' UNDERCLOTHING.
LAMPS.
MATS, TURNERY, ETC,
MILLINERY,
OPTICAL GOODS AND SCIENTIFIC INSTRUMENTS,
PERFUMERY, HAIR WASHES, ETC.
PROVISIONS,
SADDLERY, HARNESS, ETC.
STATIONERY,
SURGICAL INSTRUMENTS,
TAILORING AND MILITARY OUTFITTING,
TRUNKS, PORTMANTEAUS, ETC,
WINES, SPIRITS, AND LI- QUEURS.
An Illustrated Price List will be forwarded on application.
HARBOROW
UJ <
I- OC
I CO
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O
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ARBOROYV
I5.CoeKSPUR Street. S.W.
Speci/iLiTy
BRITISH WOOL UNDERCLOTHING
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33
HARBOROW,
MANUFACTURER TO THE ROYAL FAMILY, ESTABLISHED UPWARDS OF A CENTURY,
15, COCKSPUR STREET, CHARING CROSS, S.W.
* *
SPIERS & POND
(LIMITED)
Central Offices :
New Bridge Street, London, E.C.
SPIERS AND POND'S principal Establishments in the Metropolis are : —
THE CRITERION, Piccadilly Circus.— Restaurant, Buffet, Cafe, American Bar, Smoking Room, &c. The fashionable East Room, specially devoted to the service of dejeuners, dinners, and suppers* in the most recherche style of French Cookery. The West Room (Le Diner Parisien) Table d'hote, 5s. The Glee Dinner, served daily from 6 till 8.30 in the Grand Hall, consisting of Soups, JFVsA, Entrees, Joints, Sweets, Ices, and Dessert, and accompanied by vocal music, madrigals, part-songs, and Glees, 3s. 6d. Grill Room in basement open till midnight. Commodious lifts to all parts of the building.
THE GAIETY. Restaurant, Buffet, Grill Room. Speciality, Suppers after the Theatre till midnight. On Sunday the Grill Room is open from 6 till 11.
THE ALBION TAVERN. Opposite Drury Lane Theatre, for Dinners and Suppers after the Theatre.
THE HOLBORN VIADUCT HOTEL. For Families and Gentlemen.
THE FREEMASONS' HOTEL. Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn. Close to the Law Courts. A comfortable middle-class Hotel, most conveniently situate.
THE DUVAL RESTAURANT. Opposite the Royal Courts of Justice, Strand. Organized on the model of the famous " Bouillons Duval " in Paris, for the service of good food, well cooked, at the most moderate prices that can be made remunerative. Part of this Establishment is reserved as a Vegetarian Restaurant.
WINCHESTER HOUSE RESTAURANT. Old Broad Street, City.
THE AUCTION MART RESTAURANT. Tokenhouse Yard, City.
THE WINDMILL RESTAURANT. Cannon Street.
LUDGATE STATION RESTAURANT.
MANSION HOUSE STATION RESTAURANT.
VICTORIA (LCD. Railway) STATION RESTAURANT.
MOORGATE STREET STATION RESTAURANT, &c. &c. &c
£narajvti*n Steel is t.Kumllzy
ROYAL AGRICULTURAL HALL,
LONDON, N.
FIXTURES FOE HALF-YEAR ENDING JUNE, 1887.
February 22 to 25 Cart-Horse Show.
March 1 and 2 . Roadster Show.
March 14 to 28 . Architectural and
Building Trades' Exhibition.
April 7 to 24 . Engineering Exhi- bition.
May 28 to June 3 . The Horse Show.
June 11 to 18
. Royal Military Tour- nament.
PORTRAITS
182, RECENT STREET, W.
MARSHALL & SNELGROVE,
£tlfc Jflrrrcrs, iLarcmrn, posters, (General an* .-fFanrj) Braprrs, GTarprt jFactovs, dr.
COUET MILLINERY, FLOWERS, PLUMES, &o. TROUSSEAUX AND LAYETTES.
EVERY DESCRIPTION OF LADIES' UNDERCLOTHING,
GENTLEMEN'S OUTFITTING.
FAMILY AND COMPLIMENTARY MOURNING;
AN EXPERIENCED STAFF OF WORKERS.
CARPETS, RUGS, &c, of every description, ©rtrntal Carpets, Kugs. antr (Tapestries imports tmcrt.
HOUSEHOLD LINEN. M 'ANO HESTER GOODS.
BLANKETS, &c, &c, for Charitable purposes, at Special Prices. Orders hy Post receive prompt attention. Patterns Post Free.
YERE STREET, OXFORD STREEtThENRIETTA STREET, AND MARYLEBONE LANE, W.
AND AT SCARBOROUGH AND LEEDS, YORKSHIRE.
LONDON OF TO-DAY
PORTRAITS.
" None are superior." — Times. Some of the finest specimens of Photography ever produced."
Morning Post.
" Theirs are the finest." — Art Journal. " Brilliant and full of life" — Athen^um.
108 & 110, REGENT ST., & 54, CHEAPSIDE.
VIEWS OF LONDON,
AND OF ALL THE PLACES ON THE CONTINENT OF INTEREST.
FREE LESSONS IN PHOTOGRAPHY.
Studios are specially reserved for Amateurs. A course of instruction is given by the Stereoscopic Company to those purchasing apparatus. Proficiency guaranteed in 3 or 4 lessons.
Every tourist should learn how to photograph, as the pleasure of a tour is thereby much enhanced.
LONDON STEREOSCOPIC & PHOTOGRAPHIC CO.
(Limited), 108 & 110, EEGENT ST., W., & 54, CHEAPSIDE.
vs.
London of To-day.
AN ILLUSTRATED HANDBOOK FOR THE SEASON:
BY
CHARLES EYRE PASCOE.
Third Year of Publication.
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1887.
W. H. CREMER, JUN.,
210, Regent Street.
By Special Appointment to
$}tx itlnjfsti.) tfjc <£umi, K.1S&- Or Iprinrcss of glMalrs,
and Tin:
$ttnripal (Courts of ?2uropr.
MESSRS. CREMER'S Exhibits invariably obtain the highest award, and an inspection of their Specialities assures custom and recommendation.
Apart from the higher-class Toys, Messrs. Cremkr have a surprising collection of Novelties, Knick-knacks, and Oddities for Presents at the popular price — One Shilling — consisting of Toys, Dolls, Games, China, Glass, and Terra-Cotta Ornaments, Leather Goods, and Fancy Articles of exceptional excellence, which have been universally pronounced by the press as " Little Gifts one need not be ashamed to Present." Please ask for Special List.
" The public is mainly indebted to Mr. Cremer for the extraordinary
advances made of late years in the Art of Toys."— Art Journal.^ " Dolls have risen a thousand-fold in our estimation since our visit to
Mr. Cremer's." — Times. " If we had carte blanche to make young people happy, we would send
them to Mr. Crkmer's to choose some Toys." — Times. " A distinguishing characteristic of Mr. Cremer's is the Hospital tor
Dolls." — Domestic Magazine.
MESSRS. CREMER are celebrated for the Enter- tainments they provide for Garden and Evening Parties.
!
CREMER, Jun.,
THE LARGEST TOY ESTABLISHMENT IN EUROPE,
Only Address : 210, REGENT STREET, (Immediately Opposite Conduit Street).
CONTENTS.
The Introduction — A propos pp. 15-19
Chapter I.
WE TAKE A LOOK ROUND WITH THE READER.
The Old and the New — London of To-day practically a new city — Changes which have taken place since 1800 — Greater part of the West-end of the town dates from the present century — London of To-day, its streets and boulevards — Its new pleasures and amusements . pp. 20-26
Chapter II.
WHERE SHALL WE STAY?
The resources of the purse first to be considered — Experience can alone decide which hotel is the most comfortable — " The Slaughters" — The Head-waiter — Representative hotels: "Brown's," " Batt's," the Metropole, the Grand, Langbam, Ball-room of Metropole, &c. — Dining hall of the Grand— Mr. Gordon— The Old Tavistock— The " First Avenue " — Leading West-end hotels — Ordinary tariff of London hotels — Hotels for persons of moderate means — Fees to servants — Nathaniel Hawthorne and Mark Twain on this subject . , . pp. 27-12
Chapter III,
BOARD, LODGINGS, AND FURNISHED HOUSES.
The boarding-house of Kensington and the boarding-house of Blooms- bury — The whereabouts of the best, how ascertained — Their usual weekly charges — " Lodgings " — Where to be found — Rent per week in various localities of London — An old traveller's view of the English system of lodgings — Furnished Houses, Rents — How to get a Furnished House , , , . , , . pp. (3-48
6 Contents.
Chapter IV.
WHERE SHALL WE DINE?
A question not to be answered hastily — A popular London restaurant — The Rainbow, " Blanchard's," " Simpson's," &c. — The East Room at the Criterion — A dinner there — " Yerrey's " — The " Cafe Royal " — The table d'h6te at the Grand Hotel and Hotel Metropole — The First Avenue daily dinner — The Holborn Restaurant — Music at dinner — The Confectioners and Dining places for ladies — Restaurants at the railway termini— Cheap dinners — Where to dine on Sunday — City restaurants pp. 49-63
Chapter V.
WHAT'S GOING ON IN TOWN?
The pleasantest time of the year to visit London — The Season : its pleasures and amusements — When the Season maybe said to begin — "The Park " — Rotten Row — The Drive — Some other places of fashionable out- door resort — Kensington Gardens' — St. James's and the Green Parks — Regent's Park — The Botanical Gardens — The " Zoo " . pp. 64-75
Chapter VI.
The Court — Drawing-rooms and Levees — The fashion in respect of these
pp. 76-81
Chapter VII.
State Balls — Dances — Garden Parties — Political Receptions — Soiree of the Royal Academy — Evening Fete at Botanical Gardens — Strawberry Fete at Chiswick pp. 82-86
Chapter VIII.
Dinners — Anniversary and Ceremonial — May ushers in the season of dinners — Dinner of the Royal Academy — Charity dinners — Grand Nights at the Temple — Regimental dinners — A "Command" dinner
pp. 87-95
Chapter IX.
Lords and Commons in Session — House of Commons — Regulations for admission of strangers, &c. — Daily business — Hints to Strangers — Lords Spiritual and Temporal pp. 96-104
Contents.
Chapter X.
The Clubs— Not always hospitable to strangers unless " distinguished " — In this respect compared with some American Clubs . pp. 105-107
Chapter XI.
THE ROYAL ITALIAN OPERA.
The Opera Season — Subscription nights — Prices — Her Majesty's Theatre — Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden — Mr. Gyeonthe prospects of Italian opera in London — Madame Patti — Madame Nilsson — Opera in English and Mr. Rosa pp. 108-115
Chapter XII.
MUSIC.
Concerts of the Philharmonic; Sacred Harmonic, and other Societies — The popular classical concerts — The concert season generally — Arrange- ments for 1887 — Viscountess Folkestone's orchestra . pp. 116-120
Chapter XIII.
THE THEATRES.
No city has so many as London— The theatrical season— Hour of opening, and prices of admission — Locale of the chief houses — Their reputation in particular lines of dramatic work — " Stars," and stock companies — Actors and actresses of to-day — Pastoral Plays . pp. 121-126
Chapter XIV.
MISCELLANEOUS ENTERTAINMENTS.
Mr. and Mrs. German Reed's — Moore and Burgess Minstrels — The princes of legerdemain— Madame Tussaud's— Music Halls . pp. 127-135
Chapter XV.
ART GALLERIES AND EXHIBITIONS.
The Art Season in London— Show Sunday — The Critics' and private-view days at the Royal Academy— Summer and Winter Exhibitions — The Water-colour societies — Grosvenor Gallery — Bond Street Galleries — Photographic Exhibition— Private picture galleries . pp. 136-142
8 Contents.
Chapter XVI.
THE MAY MEETINGS
The business of doing good pp. 143-145
Chapter XVII. DRIVES AND EXCURSIONS.
The environs of London — Greenwich — Woolwich — Hampstead — Richmond — Kew — Hampton Court — Bushey Park — Windsor — The Crystal and Albert palaces — Place of Fashionable Resort — Bentley Priory, &c pp. 146-160
Chapter XVIII.
SOME EVENTS OF THE SEASON.
"The Derby" — Ascot — Goodwood — Sandown Park — Meets of the Four- in-Hand and Coaching Clubs — Tattersall's — Military Reviews — Henley Regatta — Procession of boats at Eton (4th of June) — Royal Thames Yacht Club races — : Cricket matches — Wimbledon Camp — Military Tournament — Athletic sports — Farewell to the Season
pp. 161-192
Chapter XIX. SATURDAY TO MONDAY AT THE SEASIDE.
Seaside resorts within easy reach of London — Brighton — Margate — Westgate-on-Sea — Ramsgate — Some places on the south coast — Ways of reaching them — Cheap railway trips — Steamboat trips pp. 193-200
Chapter XX.
SUNDAY IN LONDON.
Church and chapel — Hours of divine service at the chief Church of Eng- land, Dissenting, Roman Catholic, and other places of worship — After church pp. 201-212
Chapter XXI.
SOME SUGGESTIONS FOR TRIPS AWAY FROM LONDON.
pp. 213—215
Contents. 9
Chapter XXII.
THE STREETS AND PUBLIC BUILDINGS.
Introductory — The old and the new — A proposal for memorials to the illustrious who have lived in London— Relics of Roman London — Mr. Harrison on London pp. 216-221
Chapter XXIII. THE BUSTLING STRAND.
The bustling Strand — Its historical associations — Charing Cross — Streets leading from the Strand north and south — The Adelphi — Exeter Hall — Beaufort Buildings — The Savoy — Wellington Street — Waterloo Bridge— Somerset House — Holywell Street — Norfolk Street — The Royal Courts of Justice . . . . . pp. 222-228
Chapter XXIV.
ROUND ABOUT COVENT GARDEN.
Round about Covent Garden — Bow Street — The old coffee-houses — Russell Street — Boswell and Johnson — Covent Garden Market — Evans's — The New Club— Garrick Street — Long Acre— St. Martin's Lane — Leicester Square — Soho — Dryden — The Turk's Head Club
pp. 229-234
Chapter XXV. THROUGH FLEET STREET.
Through Fleet Street— Temple Bar— Child's Bank— The Temple— The Temple Church— Hall and Library of *'- Middle Temple, &c— Dis- tinguished persons who have lived in the Temple — Chancery Lane — Fetter Lane — Dr. Johnson's residence in Fleet Street — Alsatia — The newspapers pp. 235-242
Chapter XXVI.
LUDGATE CIRCUS TO ST. PAUL'S.
Ludgate Circus — Blackfriars — "The Times" Office — Newgate Prison — Ludgate Hill — Paternoster Row — St. Paul's Churchyard — The Cathe- dral— Its history, monuments, &c. — Arrangements for admission — St. Paul's School pp. 243-249
10 Contents.
Chapter XXVII.
CHEAPSIDE TO THE BANK.
The City — The jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor — The City's government — The General Post Office — Christ's Hospital — St. Bartholomew's Hos- pital— The Guildhall — The Mansion House — The Royal Exchange — Bank of England pp. 250-260
Chapter XXVIII.
THROUGH THE CITY TO THE TOWER.
The Tower of London — Members of the House of Commons and the Tower — Its history and traditions — The Chapel of St. Peter — Tower Green — The Tower Warders — The Mint — Trinity House . pp. 261-268
Chapter XXIX.
CORN HILL AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.
Cornhill — Change Alley and " Garraway's " — The Jerusalem Coffee- House — Crosby Hall — Leadenhall Street — The Ship and Turtle Tavern — St. Catherine Cree — Mark and Mincing Lanes . pp. 269-271
Chapter XXX.
FROM THE TOWER TO WESTMINSTER.
Thames Street and Chaucer — Billingsgate — Cannon Street — London Stone — Queen Victoria Street — Heralds' College — The Embankment — River piers pp. 272-277
Chapter XXXI.
WESTMINSTER— THE HALL, THE PALACE, AND THE ABBEY.
The Hall, the Palace, and the Abbey — The founder of Westminster Hall — Its present state — The Houses of Parliament — Rules of admission — St. Stephen's crypt — Westminster Abbey — The Monuments — The Cloisters — Westminster School ..... pp. 278-291
Contents. 11
Chapter XXXII.
PARLIAMENT STREET TO PALL MALL.
The Government offices, Whitehall — The Chapel Royal — The ceremony of the Royal Maundy — Scotland Yard — Cockspur Street — Trafalgar Square — The National Gallery — The Haymarket — Pall Mall and the Clubs ......... pp. 292-300
Chapter XXXIII.
REGENT STREET AND PICCADILLY.
The most important West-End thoroughfares — The latest fashions — St. James's Hall — The Albany — Burlington House — White Horse Cellar — The Coaches — Mansions facing on Piccadilly . . pp. 301-308
Chapter XXXIV. ST. JAMES'S TO OXFORD STREET.
From St. James's by way of Bond Street to Oxford Street — St. James's Palace — St. James's Street — The aristocratic quarter — Bond Street and its shops pp. 309-312
Chapter XXXV.
OXFORD STREET TO HOLBORN.
From the Marble Arch through Oxford Street to Holborn — Oxford Street — Soho Square — Tottenham Court Road — Bloomsbury — The British Museum — Lincoln's Inn — The Soane Museum — College of Sur- geons— Gray's Inn — Holborn pp. 313-321
Chapter XXXVI.
SOME NOTES OF INTERESTING EVENTS
pp. 322-323
Chapter XXXVII. FREE EXHIBITIONS.
Museums, Exhibitions, &c, open free to the public — Military barracks in London — Prisons, &c pp. 32 1-327
12 Contents.
Chapter XXXVIII. LIBRARIES, AND CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS.
Libraries of reference — Art Library at Soutli Kensington — British Museum Reading-room, &c, — Hospitals and Charitable Institutions — Hospital Sunday pp. 328-333
Chapter XXXIX. THE SHOPS.
Mr. Tristram Shandy's advice — Our adoption of it — We state our case — And await his Worship's decision 336-339
Chapter XL. THE BOOKSELLERS AND THE BOOKSHOPS.
A reader's request — Little Britain once the seat of the great trade — Pater- noster Row its headquarters now — The great publishers — The second- hand booksellers and their special lines of business . pp. 340-346
Chapter XLI.
SHOPS FOR GENTLEMEN.
Sterne's advice — Addison's also — Our own — Rotten Row the chief empo- rium of Fashion — The great tailors of the day — Poole, Whitaker, Hill Brothers, &c— Mr. Dore— Mr. Woodman of London Wall— The Fashionable shops for scarfs, " ties " and cravats — Messrs. Harborow, of Cockspur Street — The silk-hat considered — The question of boots — The leading bootmakers — The leading gun-makers — Other note- worthy shops for gentlemen, &c, &c. . . . pp. 347-360
Chapter XLII.
SHOPS FOR LADIES: NOTES ON THE FASHIONABLE
FIRMS, &c.
The Goddess of Fashion — Debenham and Freebody — Redfern's costumes — Lewis end Allenby — Marshall and Snelgrove — Leading Dress- makers and their specialities — Millinery — Gloves — Boots and Shoes — Lace, &c. — Clearance sales — Cremer's toy warehouse — Messrs. Buszard, makers of wedding-cakes — Gunter — Charbonnel and Walker — The flower-shops pp. 361-378
Contents. 13
Chapter XLIII.
SOME OTHER SHOPS OF INTEREST.
The craze for cheapness — Its effect on the old-established houses — An expensive but not a dear article — Messrs. Johnstone, Norman, and Co., of Bond Street — A piano of their make — Some notes on furni- ture— Maple of Tottenham Court Road — Old furniture — Wardour Street — Liberty and Co. of Regent Street and their Oriental Ware- house— Bric-a-Brac dealers — The Picture dealers — The Printsellers — Mr. Van der Weyde and his Photographs , . pp. 379-390
Chapter XLIV.
TRAINS, CABS, AND POST.
Chief Railway Termini in London — Metropolitan and District lines — Cabs and cabmen — Omnibuses — Tramways — River steamboats — Postal ar- rangements— Poste Restante — Parcels — Commissionaires pp. 391-397
DEBENHAM AND FREEBODY
Invite an inspection of their Novelties and Specialities in
COURT DRESSES AND TRAINS,
PRESENTATION DRESSES,
BALL, EVENING^ & VISITING DRESSES.
COSTUMES.
TAILOR-MADE JACKETS AND GOWNS,
TEA GOWNS, DRESSING GOWNS,
MANTLES, MILLINERY,
AND
WEDDING TROUSSEAUX.
SPECIAL DESIGNS IN
NATIONAL, HISTORICAL AND FANCY COSTUMES
FOB TABLEAUX, THEATBICALS,
FANCY BALLS.
DEBENHAM & FREEBODY,
Wigmore Street & Welbeck Street,
LONDON, W.
A PROPOS.
THE 20th of June, 1887, completes the 50th year of Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen's reign. Of course her subjects everywhere, but in London, perhaps, most of all, are preparing to celebrate this Jubilee. When we have elbowed our own way to the front and tossed up a cap with the rest, Ave shall be in better position to tell of what's going on. At the date of this present writing we are a long way back in the crowd, and can only speak from hearsay — from what the " World " tells us, and "Truth" and the "Daily News" and the "Times." And when this book is published to the thousands who year by year ask for it (Mr. Sneer may laugh ; but we take leave to repeat, the thousands who year by year ask for it), the daily journals will already have told in greater detail than we coidd possibly attempt the special preparations made for keeping (as we hope) that great Festival of the year in London of to-day. Still we must do our part.
Then, by your leave, good Sir. Stand aside, please, and give us room to clear our pipes for one loud, long, and lusty cheer for Queen Victoria and the proposal of a sentiment — The Queen ! God bless her ! Hip, hip, hurrah ! — and one ringing cheer more, please. And as we happen to note an American friend or two in the crowd, perhaps they will oblige with a tiger, as we have heard it more than once vigorously given, at great feasts in Boston, Mass., wherein we were sometime an humble sojourner.
16 London of To-day.
Thank you, gentlemen. Now let's pass on our way and see what's to be seen to-day in London.
Stay — just one word more. Masters, spread yourselves and allow the ladies room to see and space to listen. Ladies and gentlemen, — We cannot allow this auspicious and memorable opportunity to pass without offering a remark or two in the proper vein. Ladies and gentlemen, to suit the humour of the hour our talk in this chapter should be of banquets and banners and garlands, of brilliant illuminations, of tissue-clad ladies in gilt coaches, of handsome cavaliers on prancing horses, of naval reviews and military spectacles, of trumpets, drums, and salutes, of roast- ing of oxen whole, and drinking of tuns of ale, of children's merry-making, and old folks rejoicing, of stout-lunged huzzas and waving of caps — in fine, of all that pageant-making and enthu- siastic festivity with which the Queen's lieges propose to celebrate the Queen's Jubilee. We should speak of Public Thanksgiving in the Abbey of Westminster ; of other great functions of State ; of Drawing Rooms, Levees, and Balls ; of the inflowing of guineas for raising an Imperial Institute ; of other guineas con- tributed to the building of a Church House for the clergy ; of the intended magnificent hospitality of the Lord Mayor and Corporation of London ; of the great annual gathering of Bards and Welsh choirs in the Albert Hall ; of presentations to the public of parks, and statues, and schools, and churches, and alms-houses ; of galas all over the world ; and, as we most earnestly should have wished, foremost of all, of greater pros- perity and happiness among the Queen's humbler subjects. All this is what we ought to have talked about here if we were not in danger of the journals forestalling us.
But, ladies and gentlemen, since that is sure to be the case, we venture a word or two here (as you have been so good as to favour us with your attention) respecting ourselves. The oppor- tunity seems a fitting one, if Mr. Critic and Mr. Sneer will kindly step aside and give us permission to speak. If it is not precisely true, ladies and gentlemen, that, during the fifty years of Her
A propos. 17
Majesty's reign, every man has eaten in safety, under his own vine, what he planted (cries of" No politics "), and sang the merry songs of peace to all his neighbours, yet England has heretofore been blessed almost beyond example. Her literature, ladies and gentlemen (will Mr. Sneer have the courtesy to refrain from in- terrupting ?) has assuredly won its proudest triumphs under the sovereignty of women (a voice " Tell us something new "), as many (if the gentleman will only give permission to finish our sentence) more eloquent wielders of the pen than we have said time and time before. The reign of Elizabeth was made im- mortal by —
" Hands that penned And tongues that uttered wisdom."
That of Anne, the Augustan age, as it is most familiarly called, sometimes by those who know least about its literature (gentle- men, Mr. Sneer continues to interrupt), marks the next great epoch in our literary annals. And the reign of Queen Victoria the next. It is scarce necessary to recall the names of those whose contributions to our literature are to be classed anions not the least lasting and precious memorials of her time. The most of these names are in one way or another associated with London — London life, London scenes, and London people. In what way they are associated, no one has told us more than authors of Handbooks, so called, witli whose labours, ladies and gentlemen, some of you, no doubt, are sufficiently familiar. That industrious literary worker not seldom sows what another reaps, and, in the eyes of his more distinguished literary brother, who frequently avails himself of the other's industry, at small sacrifice of his own time and little charge to his own pocket, and generally with but reluctant acknowledgment of his takings, is only a literary chiffonnier. Beginning with Ned Ward,1 whom everybody has vilified, and ending with Timbs and Thornbury, whose compila- tions many have sneered at, there has been hardly a writer on
1 u
The London Spy." B
18
London of To-day.
London, London life, and London ways by whose labours some one has not profited.
Ladies and gentlemen, this book which we have had the honour to submit twice before for your acceptance, and which, very generously, you have each previous year asked for in larger
number than we have been able to supply, illus- trates the life and fashion of London of to- day. In regard of this, it speaks of the Hotels of to-day, the Re- staurants of to- day, the State ceremonies of to- day, the Galas, Festivals, and Amusements of to-day, and finally, the Streets and Shops of to-day. If as strangers to the Town you wish to know Where to Stay, the author ventures advice upon that subject ; if where to eat a good old English dinner, or a dinner in the most recherche style of the haute cuisine Fi-anqaise, he proffers advice upon that ; if you wish to learn something about the Theatres, Concerts, and Pleasures of the town, he has not lost sight of that ; if, ladies, you desire to know whereabout in London you may view the height of the mode in respect of gowns, bonnets, and hats, he in- forms you upon that ; and if you, gentlemen, are bent upon studying the highest fashion in respect of coats and cravats, he has not failed to consider your commands upon that.
A propos. 19
In a word, ladies and gentlemen, lie offers for your acceptance a book which informs you upon most things likely to interest, when you flock to the capital city to celebrate the great National Holiday decreed for the Fiftieth Year of the reign of good Queen Victoria. If it should happen that some future historian a hundred years hence open this book for information of the London life of that year, he will find it sufficiently trustworthy, as well, the author hopes, in relation to its reading-matter as its illustrations. And the literary brother who may then have to write for a living, if " Comrade " Jones or " Citizen " Robinson do not provide him with a living without the necessity of writing, may with all our heart take from it as much and freely as he please.
With grateful acknowledgment of past favours, ladies and gentlemen, the author begs leave to remain your most obliged, and obedient, humble servant.
20 London of To-day.
Chapter I. AVE TAKE A LOOK ROUND WITH THE READER.
WHERE is the London of our grandfather's time ? Almost improved away. Nay, where is the London of our dearest mother's day ? Scarce to be recognized. But a month ago we traversed it, if perchance we might light upon the place of her girlhood, and found it dismal, murky, and unfashionable, having long since passed without the pale of what are known among house-agents and auctioneers as desirable residential neigh- bourhoods. Yet in the early years of the century, let us assure the reader, the district about Theobalds Road, Harpur Street, Lamb's Conduit Street, Southampton Row, and adjacent streets, were inhabited by persons of the first respectability. The gardens of Gray's Inn, now least like gardens of any cultivated patch we know within central London, a discredit to any assem- blage of gentlemen calling themselves ancient and honourable, were then the playing-ground and promenade of many a pretty school-miss whose papa stood well among merchants of the city. On Sundays their wives took the air in these same gardens after morning service at the Foundling Chapel (has not our own mother told us so, our mother who used to ride home a-top of the coach from the Misses Appleton's School on Clapbani Common to spend Sunday at home) ; and what a wretched, sooty, forsaken place it is now ! Most worthy Ancients and Honourables of the Society of Gray's Inn, why not cultivate somewhat of the kindly sympathies of your predecessors, turn your joyless "gardens " into real gardens, and open them to the little children of the neigh- bourhood ? Does the reader care to see intact a street of the well-to-do middle-class of the Georges, then let him turn aside
We take a Look round with the Reader.
21
into Harp or Street, in Theobalds Road, and he may see one. Alderman Bovdell (of Shakespeare Gallery fame) once lived here, as did other of his brethren of the scarlet gown. Harpur Street shelters no aldermen now. But you may still see the rings for the oil lamps, and the extinguishers for the flambeaux which used to light Mr. Alderman Boy- 4
dell's guests to their carriages after dining with that worthy patron of the Fine Arts.
Yes, old London is going, going, indeed, has well-nigh gone. Occasionally, we try to revive its recollections by send- ing a coach-and-four out of Picca- dilly with red-coated guard and tooting horn, and a gentleman driving in drab-coat and cheese- plate buttons ; but it is only a make-believe. It is a kind of children playing at horses, and baby throwing brown-paper parcels into the " boot." Here and there, we may stroll into an old tavern with sanded floor, and fancy John in the greasy suit, with the bunch of seals at his fob, in waiting. But John isn't
the old John ; he is young Fritz, or Gustave, and so we turn out again into the street to get our cut of mutton elsewhere. " Your hotel, madam," we remarked lately to the landlady of an old- Georgian inn in Holborn, "must now be one of the oldest in London, probably the oldest in these parts." "Yes, sir, it is," she answered, " and it would be a good deal better for me if it were more modern." Just so. The king has arisen that knew not Joseph. Le rot est mort, vive le roi I We must put on our
^C^i^-^l-^
22 London of To-day.
hat, tie up our muffler, and go out into the cold, and work our- selves into an honest glow in contemplating the modern. Good- bye the old, welcome the new. " Hand our traps, please JohnT into that brand-new cab-landau that's passing ; " and " Driver, drive us to the Metropole." No ! " Hold hard, cabby ! Drive to the ' Criterion.' " We are a cup too low. We'll have a nice little lunch arranged by the manager (if he will be so good) in the East Room, and then, with your leave, we'll have a look at London of to-day. You'll not be angry with us, sirs, if we plunge at once into the fashion of the time, and call for our Petite marmite, our Rougets a la Spiers, our Becasse et Salade, Biscuits Criterion, and pint of Richebourg, which have been recommended. Then, back to the Metropole, and you shall hear
what Ave have to say.
# # # * *
# # # # * London of to-day is, as to its greater part, a new city.
There are persons still living who remember when its western limits reached but a short distance beyond the now thickly populated districts of Piinlico and Paddington. Those limits now extend almost to Kingston in Surrey, and to Brentford in Middlesex, having long since encroached upon Fulham, Shep- herd's Bush, and Kilburn. In the beginning of George the Third's reign there was nothing but a dreary, monotonous waste of dank pasturage between Cavendish Square and, what was then, the village of Marvlebone. It was not till the year 1764 that Portman Square was laid out for building; and it was nearly twenty years before it was completed. Harley Street was begun about the same time. Soon afterwards Portland Place, formerly reckoned the most magnificent thoroughfare in London, and still one of its broadest and pleasantest, was built ; and also most of the streets that intersect it. Regent Street, the " Circuses " so- called at either end of it, and Waterloo Place, all date from the early years of the present century. The Clubs — the Athenseum, Reform, Carlton, Oxford and Cambridge, Army and Navy, United
We take a Look round ivith the Reader. 23
Service (Senior and Junior), in point of fact, the whole of Pall Mall and the splendid terraces fronting St. James's Park, have grown up within a period of fifty years — 1826-1876. The Regent's Park district — that is to say, that part of London north of Portland Place — belongs to the second decade of the century. Belgravia, much of May fair, Tyburnia, Notting Hill, the Hyde Park fashion- able quarters north and south, with their splendid mansions, have all risen within comparatively recent times. Between Kensington and Chelsea the fields over which Addison walked are now as much built upon as Belgravia. The pleasant walnut-tree walks and mulberry orchards of his time have long since made way for roads, for so-called " gardens," and for spacious squares. Elm Park, one of the last unoccupied spots between London and the old gardens of Cremorne, is now covered with streets and terraces ; and of Cremorne itself, once the favourite resort of many a gay Londoner, nothing remains. On the river-side, between Cheyne Walk and Chelsea College, a row of fine red-brick houses has grown up, and the picturesque scene by the " Old Swan " has vanished. Prince's famous grounds have gone into the jaws of the devourer, which threaten to leave no green thing behind him. In the north-west of the town similar work goes on, as the man- sions on Fitz-John's Avenue testify. In the far east, rows and rows of neat little houses appear all the way down the road to Ilford. On the Surrey and Kentish side, even to Sydenham and Chislehurst, Wimbledon and Croydon, the work of building pro- gresses, enlarging to a wonderful extent the area of modern London.
The lines of communication with London in the south — the bridges which cross the Thames — London, Southwark, Black- friars, Waterloo, Charing Cross, Westminster — are all of more or less recent construction ; none dating farther back than the beginning of the century. The greater number of London's public buildings are of more modern date still — the General Post-Office, the Foreign and other public offices at Whitehall, the Houses of Parliament, South Kensington Museum, Burlington
24 London of To-day.
House, &c. To these might be added the Thames Embankment, a large number of churches and chapels, public institutions, hos- pitals, schools, &c. ; all the great railway termini — Charing Cross, St. Pancras, Waterloo, London Bridge, King's Cross, Euston Square ; the numerous theatres and places of amusement, the palatial mansions of the West-End, and the monster warehouses of the City — all these are but the work of yesterday. Since the end of the eighteenth century London has undergone a mar- vellous change. The monster Metropolis, which is still swelling every year — to which, indeed, many thousand houses, forming several hundred new streets, covering a distance not far short of a hundred miles, were added but a year ago — which is increasing in a way which makes it bewildering to contemplate, not its final limits, but where those limits will reach even in the near future : this monster London is really a new city. It is this London — almost without limit in extent — new as to its life, its streets, and the social condition of the millions who dwell in them, whose very manners, habits, occupations, and even amusements have undergone as complete change within the past half-centnry as the great city itself — it is this London which we purpose to discuss with the reader. We will not tax his patience with telling him of the square miles it covers, nor of the exact num- bers of its population, nor of the births and deaths which take place within its limits in the course of twenty-four hours, nor of its trade, food-supply, means of locomotion, and the rest, all of which information may be gathered from Reports, " Blue " and other books, within reach of those who may be curious in such matters.
London of to-day has taken somewhat of the form and ways of a Continental city. Broad new streets and boulevards are opening in various parts. We have a grand new thorough- fare at the eastern end of Piccadilly recently completed. We are promised a grander, opening up a vista from the Strand to Buckingham Palace. Huge, foreign-looking hotels are lifting their white fronts as fast as if London had only just begun to
We take a Look round with the Reader. 25
find out that strangers from afar might care to come and visit her. It is certain that the number of strangers who come to London for a long visit is marvellously on the increase. The Americans, who some years ago used merely to rush through London on their way to their beloved Paris, now begin to find out that London is a remarkably pleasant place to make a stay in. Even Frenchmen are beginning to make prolonged visits to our metropolis, and to admit that the climate is not invariably disagreeable. English enterprise has gone to meet the new comers by establishing Restaurants on the most approved Conti- nental pattern here, there, and everywhere. The citizens are, we think, showing a disposition to eat and drink less, to amuse themselves more, and to take more of their pleasure in the open air, even at night. Perhaps some day Londoners will be found innocently sipping coffee, eau sucree, and gooseberry-syrup, o' summer-nights, under the trees of Northumberland Avenue, or the Mall in St. James's Park, in the fashion of the light-hearted Parisians.
At amusement, indeed, Londoners work harder than ever. They are determined that the dulness begotten of irksome and too constant labour shall not reign in their upper circles at least. Each successive Season sees some new device for killing time. One year it is in the direction of out-door sports, another of in- door entertainment. "Pastoral Plays " are come into vogue, and display (as has been remarked) a confidence in the climate of London which is generous and patriotic. The Royal Institute of Painters in Water Colours has lately been devising Masques after the fashion of Venice and Milan. Its contemporary, the Society of British Artists, has taken to the liberal (in more senses than one) fashion of continental towns, of entertaining friends on Sunday. Even the conservative Benchers of the Inner and Middle Temple are following the mode, in forsaking their ancient dinner-smellino- halls and receiving the fair sex and their lords in the summer in the pleasanter Temple Gardens. The taste for open-air fetes is more and more cultivated. Let us not forget to
26 London of To-day.
name the Strawberry Fete (at Chiswick) of the Horticultural Society, and the Evening Fete and Floral Exhibition of the Botanic Society as among the best examples of these. Of indoor amusements, private theatricals take the lead, though amateur concerts (witness Lady Folkestone's Orchestra of Ladies) are in- creasing in enterprise and success. Dances at the New Club (the only successful " society-club " ever started, so says Count Vasili : has he forgotten " Almacks " ?) are the most fashion- able of the day. The annual Military tournament is perhaps the most popular amusement of to-day. The Horse Guards authorities give the London public no more than a week of it (though it begs for more), lest the applause of the arena should prove detrimental to military discipline. These changes and novelties, incident to " London of to-day," are among the sights of the Season which we have duly chronicled in this book for the information and entertainment of visitors and their friends.
Wliere shall we Stay ?
27
Chapter II.
WHERE SHALL WE STAY?
AN authority,1 whose dictum we shall not venture to dis- pute, says that what a stranger chiefly wants to know
in the pages of a guide-book is, " which, and where, are the
best hotels and restaurants? " Cheerfully ac- cepting this ruling, and thankful for the suggestion it em- bodies, we be- gin the practical part of our work with an honest endeavour to tell the " stranger " all we know con- c erning these matters in rela- tion to London. " Where shall we stay?" "Which hotel do you re- commend ? " are questions very
sure to be asked of some one in arranging the preliminaries of
1 "The Athen<eum."
HALL OF THE HOTEL METROPOLE.
28 London of To-day.
a first visit to the metropolis. Such questions, however, can only be satisfactorily answered by a foreknowledge of the contents of the purse, or of the resources within reach of the inquirer, and of his preferences and requirements. An expenditure of a guinea a day to one person may mean extravagance of the grossest kind to another, while a third may object to go beyond the reasonable limits of tenor twelve shillings, even though his resources be ample. Again, in what particular district of London does the visitor wish to stay, and for how long ? It might be inconvenient, for instance, to lodge at a West-End hotel while one's business took him early each day to the City. In like manner, a lady bent on shopping and sight-seeing would hardly desire to stay in Salisbury Square, Fleet Street, though, by-the-way, many ladies do live close at hand, at the Royal Hotel, Blackfriars. But if some difficulties are in the way of giving a straightforward answer to this common inquiry, we may still be of service in aiding the reader to answer it satis- factorily himself. The most obvious difficulty is that it is not always possible to learn except by experience, what one will have to pay as a casual guest at an hotel, whether he be lodged in- differently or well, whether he eat and drink of the best, or eat and drink of the worst. There is no way of getting at the actual cost beforehand. The guest must occupy his room and go through a course of meals and send for his bill before he can decide whether he is being treated well or ill, unless, indeed, he has already stayed at an hotel which satisfies every reasonable expectation. Then, of course, as a wise traveller he will give such hotel the preference whenever he comes to town.
In that admirable picture of Vanity Fair in the beginning of the century, drawn by the master-hand of Thackeray, a few pleasant little touches are thrown in illustrative of the London inn of seventy years ago. Our old friend Dobbin has just arrived at Southampton in the Ramchunder East Indiaman, Captain Bragg, from Madras. He drives off by swift post-chaise to London, and is set down at the "Slaughters," then a famous hostelry in St. Martin's Lane (kept by a Mr. Robertson), where the Major
Wliere shall ive Stay ?
29
a
stayed whenever he came to town. " Old John," the head- waiter, receives him at the door, " in the same greasy snit, with the same double chin and flaccid face, with the same huge bunch of seals at his fob, rattling his money in his pockets as before, and receiving the Major as if he had only gone away a week ago. ' Put the Major's things in 23, that's his room,' said John, exhi- biting not the least surprise, though Dobbin had been absent from England some fifteen years. ' Roast fowl for your dinner, I suppose ? ' And the Major following his things into ' No. 23,' where stood the great moreen bed, and the shabby carpet, and all the old black furniture with the faded chintz, just as he recollected them in his youth, fell to unbuckling the straps of his trunk, and with a chuckle of inward satisfaction said to himself, ' I'm glad old John didn't forget me.' "
It is very pleasant to re- ceive that half- respectful, half- familiar salutation of the head-waiter on entering an old-fashioned, or indeed new- fashioned London hotel. A man, be he never so big a "swell," walks inches taller among the other guests, if the head-waiter happen to show him some exceptional attention as he walks into the coffee-room, bowing him for- ward with a pleasant smile, and showing him to a seat with every mark of honest gratification. We have noticed in our rambles through Lon- don, now extending over a period longer than we care to remember, well-known actors and men of letters, public functionaries, popular M.P.'s, barristers in
1/
THE HEAD-WAITER.
30 London of To-day.
big practice, ay, and more distinguished people than these, talk- ing in the most confidential manner with the " head-waiter," and discovering keen appreciation of the little civilities shown them by that personage. It is pleasant, we repeat, to be received at an hotel with some show of kindly greeting, if not by the head-waiter, by one or other of those whose duty it is to see that we and our belongings are well bestowed. A shake of the hand from the pro- prietor or manager as we enter, a respectful show of recognition from the hall porter, or an agreeable smile of welcome from the gentleman who sits at the desk waiting to give us a room and number, these are civilities which cost nothing and are very pro- fitable in securing the good-will and recommendation of guests. In a city like London, competition in the hotel business is necessarily as active as in every other branch of trade ; and the hotel pro- prietor, or manager, who is courteous and obliging on principle, must soon discover that his principle and interest are identical. What man soon forgets the place or pei"son where or by whom he was affably received, where there was no visible motive for such reception ? The poorest memory, the least impressible nature will retain so much as that, and retain it too with some feeling of esteem.
But to return to the question we have set ourselves to answer. Were we asked from personal knowledge to make a selection, we should say that each of the undermentioned, in its particular line, might serve as a representative of the best class of London hotels. The management, accommodation, and cuisine of these are, to our thinking, as good as can be, and the prices, for such advantages, moderate.
Brown's Hotel in Dover Street (21-24), enjoys an excellent reputation. Many visitors to London during the Season have a preference for a small, quiet,, home-like hotel, away from the hubbub and noise of the great streets. Then this is the very place for them. " Brown's " is an old hotel modernized ; that is to say, it combines something of the old with something of the new system. It has all the modern conveniences ; the rooms
Where shall ive Stay?
31
are cosy and pleasant; the service is good; the cookery and wines are excellent. A general dining-room recently set apart for that purpose allows a guest
the option of dining with other
guests, as in the case of the
arsrer
hotels
As good a
THE RULER OF THE ROAST.
dinner as can be had in London may be had here : the tariff the same as that of other first-class hotels. May we interpose a personal matter? The "Athe- naeum " (to which journal we have already expressed our obligations in this chapter), with its usual penetration in matters literary, perceives that " all who advertise in Mr. Pascoe's book receive notice also in the text." Mr. Pascoe may be permitted the oppor- tunity of saying " right here " (as Americans say) that that is so, and for the reason that he personally knows nearly every firm advertising in the preceding or following pages, and he writes exactly what he knows about them, just the same as the " Athe- nasum " prints what it knows about books. But that journal forgets also to say that a large number of business firms, hotels, restaurants, &c, which do not advertise in Mr. Pascoe's book, are noted in the text, comprising at least four-fifths of the whole number. The reader will perceive that " Brown's Hotel " is advertised herein ; but such fact does not preclude the author from adding that he knows it to be one of the very best hotels in all London from actual experience of its comforts, and therefore it is he recommends it. To revert once more to the impersonal '• we."
" Mackellar's " is another excellent hotel in Dover Street; so
32
London of To-day.
also is " Batt's." Each is of the highest respectability. " Batt's " is a smaller hotel than " Brown's," and retains, perhaps, more of the " family " character, though patronized also by gentlemen without family. Thomas's in Berkeley Square, the Bath in Arlington Street, Rawlings's in Jerniyn Street, may be con-
THE HALL OF THE GRAND HOTEL.
sidered representative of the best class of Private hotels at the west end of London.
From among the great joint-stock hotels open to the eye of everyone, the Metropole, Grand, Langham, First Avenue, West- minster Palace, &c, it is perhaps more difficult to make choice of one for special commendation. In point of exterior grandeur and sumptuous internal decoration, we should say there are no
Wliere shall we Stay ? 33
hotels in Europe to equal the Hotel Metropole and the Grand. We doubt, indeed, if that birthland of hotel magnificence, America, have any to excel them. For a matter of 12s. or 15s. a day, a gentleman may stay in one of these palaces. For a trifle more he might fare like a prince in one of these palaces. If he give play to his imagination and indulge for a night in the luxury of a grand suite of rooms— let's say, for example, the Marie Antoinette suite at the Metropole — he might like Christo- pher Sly in the comedy readily believe himself one :
" Am I a lord ?
Or do I dream, or have I dream 'd till now 1
I do not sleep ; I see, I hear, I speak ;
I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things : —
Upon my life, I am a lord indeed."
These two hotels are as superior to the old joint-stock London hotels of twenty years ago, with their lack of enterprise, sombre dreariness, and tedious monotony of unappetising meals, as the low-ceilinged bed-rooms and huge, carved fourposters, such as Mr. Titmarsh tells us "the Emperor Halexander's sister sle|> in when the allied sufferings was here," are to the lofty bed-roons and light, undraped bedsteads of to-day. We all can call to mind — at least those, of us who have crossed the meridian of forty — the gloomy and grand, not to say " seedy" drawing-room, the big pillared coffee-room, the dull and dreary smoking-room, the little fish called a sole, the little strips of tough toast, and the ill-made coffee and washy milk served in pretentious electro- plated ware, suggestive of the grand hotels of yesterday. These unpleasant reminiscences have been obliterated by recent expe- riences of more modern and enterprising hotels. Of these, the Metropole and the Grand may be held representative of the hotels of London of to-day. It is no secret, we believe, that these hotels owe then* origin to the energy of one gentleman, and that he takes a personal share in their direction as well as in that of other places well known to and patronized by the public of London. Mr. Frederick Gordon may be said with some
c
34
London of To-day.
semblance of truth to be lord, if not of all he surveys, of no in- considerable part of that splendid thoroughfare of modern London, Northumberland Avenue. The palace of luxurious indolence which once stood within view of it on the site now known as Carlton House Gardens, famous for its figured lemon-satin cur- tains, sofas, and chairs, its emblematical paintings of Graces and Muses, its ormolu chandeliers, and its sculptured figures of
THE MARIE ANTOINETTE ROOM AT THE HOTEL METROPOLE.
nymphs and other classical personages, could show no more beauti- ful rooms than any visitor may step into who crosses the hall of the Hotel Metropole. Let him take note of the noble suite known as the Whitehall Rooms, late in occupation of the Junior Carlton Club, but now reserved for balls, dances, and big dinners. The evening we peeped into the principal room it was brilliantly lighted and very tastefully laid-out for a dinner of the officers of
~ mill]
j o a. o
h O
§ o o
c4
hJ J
<r\ X W
H
»— i
X >
H H
' >J3J
Where shall we Stay? 35
the 10th Hussars in honour of Prince Albert Victor ; the oak- panelled " King's Room," so called, forming the reception-room. Not a tithe, we should say, of the visitors who make use of this building have any notion of the attractiveness of some of its apartments. It excites one's curiosity to know who first sug- gested this sumptuous shelter for travellers, with its wealth of decorative display and excellent apportionment of space.
" Sir," interrupts Mr. Sneer at our elbow, " do, pray, be less liberal in the use of embellishments." Dear Mr. Sneer, give us leave to explain once for all. In this little work, which you and others have been good enough to view with some favour, we do not attempt the style of the essayist, or of the historian, or of the novelist, or of the critic. We write of what we see as it im- presses us at the moment, transcribing from our note-book to our blue-ruled copy-paper at leisure — neither embellishing nor touching-up. If personal knowledge of this, that, or the other place in London, of that hotel, or this restaurant, of Mr. Vigo, the eminent tailor, or Mr. Allenby, the distinguished fashioner of ladies' costumes, permits us to write without need ot taking notes, we do so. The one talent of our profession that we utterly lack is an aptness at fiction and invention. So, good Mr. Sneer, we most humbly ask to take our leave, begging to be allowed to pursue our own way with the reader, whose dutiful servant we are.
The Ball-room at the Metropole deserves inspection from that noble band of aristocratic co-operators which advertises " suites of rooms in the vicinity of Queen's Gate for Balls, Suppers, and Wedding Breakfasts : Ball-rooms 70 by 30 and 50 by 23." Apropos of which " Vieille " writes to " Incpiirer " in the columns of a leading ladies' journal that she will find she can manage her " party " far " more economically and comfortably by having it done out than by trying to manage it at home." Why, certainly she can. The people at the Metropole will pro- vide her with everything, the necessary rooms, decorations, band, service, and wine at so much per head, an arrangement which
36
London of To-day.
<*ets rid of a erood deal of friction at home and unnecessary wrangling abroad. Some of the smartest dances of the season are given here : one of the smartest and prettiest we know being the Fancy-dress Ball and Children's Party arranged by the Committee of the " Chelsea Hospital for Women."
This suite is separated by a corridor from the main entrance of the hotel, so that host, hostess, or committee-men are, as it were, their own masters for the night. "We commend these same Whitehall Rooms to the notice of " stewards " who have hitherto kicked their heels about (as we more than once have done) in the dreary ante-room of the time-honoured establishment in King Street, St. James's, meditating on the drearier prospects of the dessert : " My lords and gentlemen, please to charge your glasses ! My lords and gentlemen, please silence for the Right Honourable Sir Raffle Buffle ! "
A few years ago, a casual customer who walked into the coffee-room of one of the fashionable West-End hotels to diney was looked upon somewhat as an interloper. Some of us- may remember " Jairing's " of fifteen years ago — " ' Jairing's r being an hotel for Families and Gentlemen in great repute in the Midlands." An uncommercial traveller and lady being at their wit's end for a meal enter the trreat coffee-room of
Where shall we Stay ? 37
Jairing's. A modest luncheon of grilled chops and boiled potatoes is ordered. In three-quarters of an hour these appear on the table, being heralded with a great nourish of silver dish- covers ; and afterwards comes the bill. A word of protest is made against the amount. "When individuals is not staying in the 'ouse," answers the waiter, " then- favours is not as a rule looked upon as making it worth Mr. Jairing's while ; nor is it indeed a style of business Mr. Jairing wishes." To-day the chance visitor is not only welcomed, he is bidden to dinner. As we have else- where remai-ked, the daily table d'hote dinners of the Grand and Metropole are the best provided in London. No inconsiderable number of the diners are casual guests. The dining-hall of the Grand in the London Season is to-day one of the sights of London. In these times of unceasing innovation, it is hardly necessary to speak of the numerous contrivances designed to add to the conveniences of hotel-life — electric lights, electric bells, telephones, safety lifts, and the rest. Gas is almost entirely superseded in the hotels to which we more particularly refer. The sanitary arrangements are as perfect as sanitary science can make them, and ought to quiet the susceptibilities of the most nervous sufferer. Convenience and economy of space, ventilation, warmth, light, and air appear to have been carefully considered, and the most approved methods of adding to the general comfort of visitors in these matters have been adopted. Even the time- honoured services of chamberlain and chambermaid are in a manner superseded at the Hotel Metropole by ingenious contri- vances for delivering a guest's boots and matutinal jug of hot water without the necessity of opening his chamber door. Had good Leigh Hunt lived in our day he might have found reason to revise his essay " On getting up on Cold Mornings." For the rest, the drawing-rooms, the reception, and reading-rooms open to every one, the suites of apartments reserved to the use of those disposed to pay for greater privacy, are charming examples of good taste in the matter of furniture and decoration.
The visitor will be less interested, perhaps, in these particulars
38 London of To-day.
than in knowing what he may have to pay for the privilege of living in such hotels. So far as we have been able to judge, no more than he had to pay before such hotels were in existence. The daily expenses at first-class hotels are about the same all over London : bed-rooms for one person from As. per night, with Is. 6(7. for attendance; breakfast 3s. to 3s. Qd. ; lunch about the same; dinner 3s. 6d. to 6s. At second-class hotels these prices may be somewhat reduced. Five guineas a week woidd we should say be a fair average sum at which to reckon expenses at an hotel at the West End.
The First Avenue, in Holborn, is a fine example of a modern hotel. Standing on the border land of the law-quarter in the main thoroughfare from Oxford Street to the City, it is convenient for business people, while not too remotely placed from the West- End and its gaiety. The system of some American hotels is adopted here in allowing the option of board and lodging at a fixed sum per day. Not many persons appear to avail them- selves of the privilege, if it be one. " The European plan" (as Americans say) is generally preferred in Europe, as we have reason to believe it now is in America. The arrangements of the First Avenue are comfortable, and the charges more moderate than at some of the West-End hotels. It advertises the electric liorht in all its bed-rooms, which should be a ereat convenience, and allows guests full liberty of lunching and dining in the restau- rant of the hotel, whereby they secure the benefit of ordinary res- taurant prices. Americans, who do not mind what they pay for suitable apartments, are apt to cavil at our hotel charges for food as compared with those at home. Here, then, is an effort to please them. In the season the First Avenue is well patronized by Ameri- cans (we have heard an American gentleman say it is the most com- fortable hotel he ever stayed in), who come to the daily table d'hote dinner from their dearly-loved adjacent district of Bloomsbury.
Mr. Gordon and the Messieurs Holland may be congratulated on the success which has attended their efforts to give Londoners and visitors to London a class of hotels which in point of comfort
" We have heard an American Gentleman say it is the most comfortable hotel he ever stayed in." p. 38.
Where shall we Stay? 39
and completeness are not to be bettered in any city in the world. In these hotels we have the best part of the American and Continental system engrafted on that which has made our repre- sentative English hotels famous all the world over for good management, civility, and attention to guests, cleanliness, comfort, good food, and a fair tariff' of charges.
For old-fashioned English comfort and old-fashioned English fare go to the Tavistock. Most good-natured and attentive reader who hath travelled thus far with us, you received our personal confession in the opening chapter. '; Sir, we love every- thing that's old ; old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine." The Tavistock hath many a time stood in the place of an old friend to us. Do we not know every retainer of the house, from Samuel, good-tempered guardian of the Hall, to the portly chamberlain above stairs, who hath promised to become our chief butler whenever that literary peerage, of which we have been so long disappointed, shall be ours. Do we not know, we say, every retainer of the establishment ; and is there no pleasure in this remembrance ? Aye, sirs, as we conceive a very great pleasure— to know and be known to reputable and worthy people.
If you relish old-fashioned comfort and old-fashioned fare go to the Tavistock ; and you may mention to Mr. Charles Taylor (twenty-five years in the service of that hotel and now its managing director) that we recommend his place. And if you quarrel with your treatment, we'll forswear old Port, which of all our hobbies is the supreme in the drinking way (we never exceed two glasses) and of which the Tavistock hath a large and old selection. A comfortable bed to lie upon, a good breakfast, a good dinner, civility and a moderate " bill," may all be counted upon at the Tavistock in Covent Garden.
The chief hotels at, or in proximity to, the great London railway stations are the following: — The Cannon Street' hotel, at Cannon Street station ; the Charing Cross, the Grand, and Metropole at Charing Cross ; the Euston Square, at Euston Square ; the Hoi-
40 London of To-day.
born Viaduct and First Avenue hotels, at and near Holhorn Viaduct ; the Great Northern, at King's Cross ; the Midland Grand, at St. Pancras ; the Great Western, at Paddington ; the Westminster Palace, Buckingham Palace, and Grosvenor hotels, at and near Victoria Station ; the Terminus hotel at London Bridge.
The leading hotels of the West End, controlled by joint-stock companies (in addition to the foi-egoing) are the Alexandra, facing Hyde Pai'k ; the Langham, in Portland Place, an hotel of world-known reputation; and the St. James's hotel, in Piccadilly (No. 77). " Claridge's," in Brook Street (49-55), may be added to the list. For many years this hotel enjoyed an extensive reputation as being the home in London of foreign princes, grand-dukes, duchesses, and other distinguished people in every degree. It has now passed into "limited liability" hands, and Claridge's no longer exclusively enjoys the patronage of the personages whose lineage is chronicled in the " Almanach de Gotha," and similar publications ; but it still has a fair share of aristocratic custom.
" Limmer's," in Conduit Street, has earned some distinction as an exclusive and somewhat expensive hotel. " Long's Hotel," in Bond Street, has for more than half a century been a resort of gentlemen of fashion. Among that class it enjoys much the same prestige that the "Tavistock" does with men who have no leisure to be fashionable. " Thomas's " (25, Berkeley Square) is another old London hotel, well known and patronized by well-to-do people in the season, as also is Baily's at South Kensington. This is a quiet and pleasant hotel in a fashionable neighbour- hood. Other first-class hotels at the West-End of the town are "Cox's" (55), "Rawlings's" (37, 38), the Cavendish (81). and the British (82), Jermyn Street (there are one or two others hereabout) ; the Albemarle (1), and the York (10, 11), Albemarle Street ; the Bristol, in Burlington Gardens ; the Burlington, in Cork Street; the 'Bath (25), Arlington Street; " Symonds's," in Brook Street (34).
In another direction of London, the Royal Hotel, Blackfriars,
Where shall we Stay? 41
is entitled to rank with the best West-End houses. It enjoys an extensive foreign patronage, and is conducted somewhat in the continental fashion. It is well managed, comfortable, and not expensive. The Inns of Court, Holborn, is also entitled to favour- able mention. " Morley's " (1 and 3), Trafalgar Square; the Arundel in Arundel Street ; the Bedford in Covent Garden ; the Salisbury, in Salisbury Square, Fleet Street; "Wood's," in Furni- val's Inn, Holborn; "Bidler's" (133), Holborn Hill, are comfort- able old-fashioned London hotels in favour with visitors from the provinces, country gentlemen, clergymen, and others. Haxell's (375), Strand ; the Covent Garden; " Anderton's " (164-5), Fleet Street ; the Horse Shoe, Tottenham Court Road ; the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, are houses suitable to persons of moderate means. Within the City are some excellent hotels : the Albion, and the Castle and Falcon, Aldersgate Street ; the Guildhall (22), King Street, Cheapside; Cocker's (19-21), Chai*terhouse Square, are of well-known reputation among gentlemen whose business takes them to the City.
Hotel charges average about as follows : Bed-room from 3 s. 6^., with Is. 6d. attendance; breakfast, plain, consisting of eggs, and such cold meat as may be on the side -table, 2s. 6d. ; lunch about the same; dinner off the joint, with vegetables and cheese, 3s. 6d. Thus, a guest's lowest daily expenses in a good London hotel, partaking of plain fare, are about 12s. 6d., ex- clusive of beer or wine. At the first-class West-End hotels, single bed-rooms cost from 4s. to 15s. per day; attendance, Is. 6d. ; breakfast, 3s. to 3s. 6d. ; table d'hote dinner, without wine, 5s. ; luncheon a la carte. In some few hotels, dinner is 6s. or 7s. 6d. In hotels of the second order, bed-rooms cost 2s. Qd. to 6s. ; attendance, Is. to Is. 6d. ; breakfast, Is. 6d. to 2s. 6d. ; dinner, 2s. 6d. to 3s. Gd.
The question of fees to servants is interesting in connection with London hotel life. When you have paid Is. 6d. a day for attendance, it is hard to be called on to pay over again. Still, you may wish to give something to servants who have been
42
London of To-day.
attentive and obliging, especially if you are told (as occasionally happens) that they receive low wages in view of " tips." The Hall porter, " boots," the chambermaid, and the waiter attending the guest during his stay are the servants to whom a gratuity is, by custom, accorded in England. On this subject, Nathaniel Hawthorne remarks : " This English system of fees has its good side, and I never travel without finding the advantage of it, especially on railways, where the officials are strictly forbidden to take fees, and where, in consequence, a fee secures twice as much good service as anywhere else." And "Mark Twain" (on the same subject) finds something to say in its favour. The " Portier," Anglice Hall-porter, whose functions are described in " A Tramp Abroad," is a personage well-deserving of sup- port, though "boots" and chambermaid may have more claims on our generosity. As to the " waiter," mere common sense should lead one to fee him. He looks after our dinner.
THANK YOU !
Boarding-houses and Lodgings.
43
Chapter III. BOARD, LODGINGS, AND FURNISHED HOUSES.
BOARDING-HOUSES
SUCH as are common to most American cities, and many Eng- lish watering-places, inland and at the seaside, are rare in London. The boarding-honse of Boston or New York is a popular institution, frequented by " all sorts and conditions of men," politicians and artists, medical men, literary men, young
married people, old mar- ried people, ladies waiting > to be married, bachelors,
and even transient travel- lers. The London board- ing-house is chiefly a home for cultivated waifs, and one need not be afraid to declare (so, at least, writes a recent authority) " that the cultivated waif is often the sweetest and most companionable per- son to be found in this unhappy planet." There are boarding - houses in Bayswater, Kensington, and Notting Hill, in the squares, crescents, and terraces of those districts, the residents of which are generally retired military men, with a sprinkling of colonists, ladies who have passed their girlhood without marrying (none the less cheerful, happy, and con-
LODGINGS.
44 London of To-day.
tented, for that), ladies whose lords are abroad, widows, and occa- sionally mothers with girls eligible for husbands. There are boarding-houses in Bloomsbury, where are to be found medical and other students of both sexes and several nationalities, Ameri- can folk passing through London, literary parsons " up " for a week or two's reading at the British Museum, brides and bride- grooms from the provinces, Bohemians pure and simple, and the restless gentlemen who are " something in the city," but no one knows what. There are boarding-houses in the London suburbs — in Claphain, in Brixton, in Dulwich, in Putney, Highgate, Holloway, and the like, which shelter but two or three inmates, and to gain admission to which is often the securing all the privileges, rights, and comforts appertaining to a well-ordered and pleasant English home. Lastly, there is the boarding-house east- ward of Finsbury Square and the shipping district of Leadenhall, which is frequented by English and American " skippers," and occasionally their wives, and the chief mates of their ships. In default of recommendations the whereabouts of boarding-houses are best found by a careful study of the advertising columns of the London dailies or by publishing an advertisement setting forth what may be required in the way of accommodation and what the advertiser offers to pay for lodging and board per week. The charges per week vary from £5 5s. in the more fashionable parts of London, to £2 2s., £1 10s., and even £1 in the less desirable places. Board in a private family may sometimes be had for a guinea and a half or two or three guineas per week ; but as few visitors will be at the trouble of searching for such accommoda- tion we need not further refer to it.
Some of the quiet Squares in the Bloomsbury district are very desirable resting-places in London, and we know of more than one boarding-house in this quarter at which we ourselves should consider it a privilege to stay. Those who undertake the management of a boarding-house have no easy task in striving to satisfy the whims and wants of every guest, and where they succeed in this they certainly deserve success. The ordinary
Boarding-houses and Lodgings.
45
daily routine of a boarding-house of the first class is breakfast from about 8 to 9.30 ; luncheon at 1.30; dinner at 7.
LODGINGS,
or to use the genteeler designation, " apartments to let," may be met with in every part of London, central and suburban, north, south, east, and west, in the most fashionable and in the least fashionable thoroughfares. They may be rented in Regent Street, in Piccadilly, Bond Street, Pall Mall, St. James's Street, and the
numerous streets adjacent ; in the Strand, in Craven, Adelphi, Bedford, Henrietta, "Wellington, and Norfolk, and several other streets ; in the quiet and unquiet thorough- fares north and south of Ox- ford Street, from its eastern- most to its westernmost end; in the vicinity of aristocratic Grosvenor Square, South Audley, Green, Charles, and Park streets ; in the Blooms- bury district, iu all the streets adjacent to Bedford, Russell, Mecklenburgh, and the other squares ; in Bayswater, Pimlico, Kensington, Hammersmith — in short, everywhere : in every part of metropolitan London, and outside of it. The expensiveness of lodgings varies with the locality. A couple of rooms on the third floor in Piccadilly, fronting the Green Park, will cost not less than £3 3s. a week, and they are not often to be had at that price. The same, accommodation in Jermyn Street, in a much smaller house, will, in the season, cost £2 2s. The drawing-room floor in a street such as Hanover Street, Hanover Square, or Maddox Street will
BACHELOR QUARTERS.
46 London of To-day.
command not less than £4 4s. In Bloomsbury, near the British Museum, similar accommodation may be had for £2 2s. or £3 3s., and even for less out of the season. For the bachelor who wants comfortable quarters at a moderate rental, say, from one guinea to a guinea and a half, no central district offers so many advantages as the Strand. In nearly all the streets south of it are to be found private hotels and lodging-houses, in which good bed-rooms may be had from 15s. 6d. to £l Is. per week, in some instances including breakfast. Bury Street, Ryder Street, and Duke Street, St. James's, are popular resorts for military and naval men. Bed-rooms may be had here for about £l Is. per week. In the Kensington and Bays water and out- lying suburbs, good rooms may be had for £l Is. or £l 10s. per week. As a general thing, in London itself lodgings are more expensive than in the suburbs.
It should be borne in mind that these prices ordinarily cover plain cooking, use of plate and linen, attendance, boot-cleaning, but not washing of table linen, &c, unless specially agreed at time of hiring. Nearly all lodging-house keepers display a card — not too conspicuously the better class — notifying apartments to let. At the time of hiring, say explicitly whether you dine at home or not. It is perhaps advisable for ladies to arrange to do so, as there is something of home-comfort in the fashion, and the restaurants in London where ladies may dine comfortably in the evening without an escort are not many. Arrange with the land- lady that you will order in everything for yourself. Civil and obliging tradespeople are to be met with everywhere in London, who will " call for orders " every day without charge, thus saving the trouble of going to the shops. Bills are paid weekly ; and a week's notice is the general rule before vacating rooms, except when otherwise agreed upon.
An American traveller of experience remarks on this subject: — " The English custom of lodgings has its advantages, but is rather uncomfortable for strangers, who, in first settling them- selves down, find that they must undertake all the responsibility
Boarding-houses and Lodgings. 47
of housekeeping, and cannot get even a cup of tea till tliey have made arrangements with the grocer. Soon, however, there comes a sense of being at home and by our exclusive selves, which can never be attained at hotels or boarding-houses." This fairly states the disadvantages and advantages of Lodgings ; though the prudent housewife or bachelor may, by taking thought beforehand, and providing himself, or herself, with a little tea in bulk, get any number of cups of tea within ten minutes of setting foot in " lodg- ings." Moreover a mutton-chop or rump-steak may be readily got from the nearest butcher's, a sole or other fish from the nearest fishmonger's, a loaf of bread from the nearest baker's, butter and milk from the nearest dairy. The whole may be laid on the table in half-an-hour. The "responsibility of housekeep- ing " is amply compensated, in most cases, by the advantages gained in lessening of expense, greater comfort at meals, and of choice in the things provided for those meals. Assuming 12*\ 6d. as a fair average of daily expenditure in an inexpensive hotel, the cost of " lodgings " and of board inclusive, that is to say, of break- fast, dinner, and supper, should represent a saving of nearly 50 per cent., thus : —
Hotel (per day). Lodgings (per day).
s. d. s. d.
Bed-room and attend- ance for one person
(say) 4 0
Breakfast 2 6
Dinner 3 6
Supper and incidentals 2 6
|
Lodgings per day (at |
||
|
£1 \s. per week) for |
||
|
one person |
3 |
0 |
|
Breakfast .... |
1 |
0 |
|
2 |
6 |
|
|
1 |
0 |
12 6 7 6
«
This calculation is made for one person ; the saving should be proportionately larger in the case of two.
48
London of To-day.
FUKNISHED HOUSES.
Many persons of position who come to London temporarily hire a furnished house. These are generally let for the Season, the Session (*". e., the Parliamentary Session), by the quarter, or by the year. They may be had in almost every part of London, in the most fashionable localities like Mayfair and Belgravia, or away on the outskirts of the town, like Hampstead and Chiswick. Rents vary from five to fifty guineas a week. In the register of " Town Houses to be Let," kept by Godwin and Basley, of 28, Cadogan Place, Belgrave Square, we note that " a well-arranged flat" in Queen's Mansions, Victoria Street, Westminster, may be rented for six guineas a week. The following will give an idea of rents for the Parliamentary Session (six months), at the West- end of London for a well-furnished house.
Situation. Eccleston Square . Ennismore Gardens Hans Place . . Lowndes Square Lowndes Street Lowndes Street Onslow Gardens Onslow Gardens
On the whole, w
Rooms. Rent.
10 bed and 4 reception .... 480 Guis
11 bed and 5 reception .... 360 „
12 bed, 1 bath, and 4 reception . (360 ,, 10 bed, 1 bath, and 5 reception . 660 ,,
10 bed and 4 reception .... 400
8 bed and 3 reception . . . 360
11 bed, 1 bath, and 5 reception . 360
9 bed, 1 bath, and 3 reception . 360
■>•>
re cannot do better than refer the reader for further information, if he should be in need of it, to the above- named firm, which is well known, and long established in Lon- don. Americans on the look out for a house may be interested in knowing that these are the appointed House Agents of the present United States Minister.
Where shall we Dine ?
49
Chapter IV. WHERE SHALL WE DINE ?
TO know where to dine in London, well, comfortably, and with economy, in a way satisfactory to the appetite, the temper, and the purse, comes only of experience and is a secret in the pos- session of comparatively few Londoners themselves. When a man has attained to middle age, he has gene- rally learned that, taking- one day with another, the dinner most suited to his taste and pocket comes from his own kitchen. When he goes abroad it is usually his first business to find a place where he may eat that meal in com- fort, and have it served
GATTI s. D
50 London of To-day.
to him at least as good, if not somewhat better, in point of variety and cookery, than he has been in the habit of having at his own table. If he succeed in this without many vexatious and expensive experiments, he maybe considered more fortunate than the majority of his fellows. Without the trusted friend at hand to offer advice, experience alone can guide one where it is best to dine in a big city.
Till within late years, it was a common reproach to London that the accommodation provided for those who, either from ne- cessity or choice, were compelled to dine from home, was insuf- ficient and bad, and the prices charged high in comparison of the quality of the cookery and fare provided. There were the clubs, indeed — the best, probably, in the world — but they supplied the wants of but a small section of the community, and that, too, a section owning, in most cases, homes and establishments of its own, and one, moreover, to which economy was not a necessity. There were the hotels, too, of vast proportions, where the prices were generally on a scale of proportionate grandeur, and where aristocratic dulness rather than comfort seemed often to be the aim of the management. Then, again, in the city and around the old Law Courts were taverns, popularly supposed to have been in days gone by the favourite haunts of great and witty men, the fame of whose memories seemed as it were to impart an addi- tional flavour to wines and meat. Lower down, again, in the scale came the foreign establishments, which dispensed their hos- pitalities, mostly in the neighbourhood of Leicester Square, to crowds of strange men, wearing strange garments, and talking in strange tongues. Here, indeed, economy was studied, for the purse of the exile is rarely a deep one ; but then, unfortunately, the study required an appreciation of foreign manners and cus- toms, as well as of foreign tastes, not always to be found in the self-satisfied Briton. Last of all were the little cookshops and eating-houses, where nameless nastinesses were always forth- coming, at a cost within the reach even of the poorest, but where the general surroundings were not seldom of a nature
Where shall we Bine ? 51
to destroy the appetites even of the least fastidious and most penurious.
There is now no capital in Europe that has so many excellent restaurants as London. We are inclined to think that to-day the most popular restaurant in London is " Gatti' s " in Adelaide Street, Strand. The number of regular diners here daily is pro- bably greater than at any other restaurant in town. Of visitors, casual customers, that is to say, from the suburbs and country, the number, too, must be very considerable. But for the hub- bub and hurrying to and fro of customers and waiters we should be disposed to recommend this as the best middle-class dining- place in London. The food is good, well served, and reasonably cheap. Ladies may lunch or dine in comfort in the smaller dining-halls, entered by way of the Strand or King William Street. As public caterers the Messrs. Gatti have deserved well of Londoners. Even in the days of the old Hungerford Market Cafe and the worthy five fiddlers who nightly fiddled selections from Tancredi and the Italian masters, the while the customer sipped his chocolate or coffee, the fare provided was good, wholesome, and cheap. Xow it is much more varied, and the daily bills of Messrs. Gatti will compare favourably in point of price, quality of food, and cookery, with those of more expensive restaurants. The hungry student of men and manners might do worse than pass the mid-day hour at one of the little marble- topped tables in the Adelaide Street establishment. We should say that much of the success of this establishment is due to the personal attention of the proprietors, who seldom seem absent from the counter of custom. There they sit, apparently with unruffled temper, day in and day out, to overlook the labours of many M-aiters and to attend to the wants of numberless •customers.
The more popular of the dining-plaees of the tavern's order in the West and Central districts are " Blanchard's," in Beak Street, Regent Street ; " Simpson's," in the Strand ; the Rainbow, near the Middle Temple Gate ; the St. James's Restaurant, in Piccadilly.
52 London of To-day.
The dinners supplied at these places (the orthodox soup, fish, and the joint) are to be commended. A better roasted saddle or haunch of mutton than " Simpson's " serves, or used to serve daily, is not to be had in London. The Rainbow is largely patronized by the lawyers, who have the reputation of being better judges of what constitutes a good dinner than most men. " Blanchard's " is largely frequented by civil service officials, and the wealthier west-end tradesmen. The St. James's is a good place for luncheon, particularly during the season.
Spiers and Pond, who came from Australia to teach us Londoners something new, were the originators of the mo- dern London restaurant, of which the London tavern of the " Blanchard's " class was the immediate forerunner. That firm found our eating-places dull, gloomy, and stuffy, like mahogany- lined sarcophagi, and built theirs cheerful, light, and roomy. But to the last, worthy Mr. Pond was a "saddle "-loving soul, and liked his chop or plain cut of mutton and mealy potato in the tavern style, and preferred these to any of your kick-shaws and made- dishes. He entertained the notion that all must be of his way of thinking. We believe he once asked for a boiled leg of mutton, with plum-pudding at a Swiss hotel. But men grow weary of too much mutton, as they do of too much partridge. So the diner-out who wanted a lighter fare sought out the French kit- chens of London. He went to Verrey's and Kettner's (to which, as we remember, we were introduced, while yet in its prime, by the genial author of " The Gay Science " : is he already quite forgotten ?), and Nicols'. When Mr. Pond died the great firm concluded that what others could do it might do. So the attrae- tive East Rooms of the Criterion were opened, and chefs enticed from Bignon's and the Lion d'Or, and English gourmets offered a taste of the haute cuisine Franqaise.
The East Rooms are to-day what Verrey's and Kuhn's were thirty years ago — the representative French restaurants of Lon- don. If you want a real French dinner, the best cookery of its kind, good wines, and to mingle in the highest circles, go there. The epicure may there taste his Bisque d'Ecrevisses, or
Wliere shall we Dine ? 53
Petite marmite, bis sole Normande, his Vol-au-vent of carps' roe, his Ris-de-veau a la Finaneiere, and the most admirable ices of Tortoni, as well served as at the Cafe Anglais on the Boulevard des Italiens. Try, and judge for yourself, O indulgent reader of epicurean tastes. This part of the Criterion enjoys very distinguished patronage. Nothing would tempt us to reveal the names of some of the swells we have "happened upon" upstairs or at the Jermyn Street entrance ; but those whose curiosity is tickled will find them very highly placed in the "Court Guide" and similar publications. The Englishman whose antipathy to continental powers does not extend to their cuisine will stand a better chance of tasting here the favourite dishes of Paris, Vienna, and, we might almost add, St. Peters- burg (to judge, at least, by the attention shown to the Service special a la carte by the personnel of Chesham Place), than at any other London restaurant we know.
On the first occasion we dined at the East Rooms, we had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the manager. " Have you ordered dinner ? " asked that admirable organizer of dinners. No, we had not yet taken that precaution. " Shall I do so for you ? " We thanked him for his civility ; and the matter presently came before us in this shape, to be pleasantly discussed by four :
Menu.
Bisque d'Ecrevisses.
Sole au vin Rouge.
Longe de veau a la Bourgeoise.
Tournedos a l'Espagnole.
Becasses.
Salade.
Biscuit Criterion.
The wines ? A bottle of very good claret, and a. bottle of ex- cellent champagne. Afterward to the theatre controlled by that popular manager Mr. George Edwardes, of whom, by the way, a friend at our elbow, who knows all the theatrical gossip of the town, tells us, that he shares with Mr. Bram Stoker the dis-
54
London of To-day.
tinction of being the most popular theatre-manager of London of to-day. Truly no more delightful resorts after a pleasant dinner could be found than the Lyceum and Gaiety theatres afford. And — as to the bill : a well-known authority has recently declared
that a man who is prepared to spend not less than six shillings on his dinner may enter boldly any restaurant in Paris, from the Cafe Anglais down- wards, and dine on soup, one dish, cheese, and half a bottle of wine. But the writer's next sentence shows that the possession of eight or ten shillings would afford a more reason- able security, while his further obser- vations prove that one or two big gold
pieces would be required for an absolute guarantee against all con- tingencies. In respect of the East Rooms' dinners — the service is a hi carte, every dish being sepa- rately prepared to the order of
each guest or party — we cannot offer any better advice than the foregoing suggests ; though for one gold piece a man and his friend may taste of the best.
Among the French restaurants of London, Verrey's is entitled to notice. It stands on the west side of Regent Street, at the corner of Hanover Street. Verrey's was, we believe, the first
VERJIEY S.
WJiere shall we Dine ? 55
French restaurant opened in London. The original Verrey was a Swiss, who, long ago, gained a reputation for sweetmeats, though, by the way, he does not figure in the " Epicure's Al- manack," published by Longmans in 1815. Doubtless, he became celebrated after that period. At all events, he was in flourish- ing condition forty or fifty years ago ; and in the Great Exhi- bition year (1851) Verrey's restaurant became the rendezvous of the more aristocratic foreign visitors to London, who flocked thither to eat pistachio ices, and other delicate morsels. Presently Londoners sought Mr. Verrey out ; and the excellence of his cookery became known to the gourmets of the fashionable quarter. The Cafe Royal (Regent Street, east side) is another place Avhich enjoys extensive patronage from men who relish a well-cooked French entree. A good dinner in the French manner may be had here for about 5s. Occasionally, one may partake of a satisfactory meal at a smaller restaurant in the vicinity of Leicester Square or Soho Square (for example at Pinoli's, 17, Wardour Street), for 3s. Kettner, in Church Street, Soho, once had a reputation second to none in London for good cookery. A few years ago his little restaurant was crowded nightly.
In the way of table (Vhotes, that of the Grand Hotel is worthy of special notice. Originally, as the name implies, the table d'hote was the principal table in the salle a manger of a French hotel, at which the two principal daily meals were served for a stated sum, and at which it was customary for the landlord himself to preside. Its counterpart has long flourished in England as the " ordinary " or dinner served at a fixed price to farmers and others on market days at old-fashioned inns in country towns. In the French hotels, particularly in provincial towns, the casual guests at the table d'hote considerably outnumber the visitors staying in the hotel. The advantage of a seat at the table d'hote is obvious. One gets a much better dinner and at a more mo- derate charge than if he ordered, and paid for, each dish sepa- rately. The tourist, straying into an English country-town, will
56 London of To-day.
often find a more satisfactory dinner served in a second-class inn at the one o'clock " ordinary " for Is. 6d. than he would get at the principal hotel for 5s. Such a dinner as the Grand Hotel serves daily from 6 to 8.30 for 5s., if provided in the old way, would cost at least from 10s. to 15s. per head. That dinner consists of six courses of two dishes each — soups, fish, entrees, removes, vegetables, roasts, sweets, with dessert. It is admirably served, in a dining-hall one of the most attractive in London, to a company " very select " — that is to say, to ladies and gentlemen staying in the hotel, and then- friends, and a large number of casual guests, non-residents, who come up from outlying places to dine before sroinsr to the theatres. The table d'hote dinner of the Metropole is also excellent. Many fashionable visitors give dinner-parties in the salon — full-dress affairs, quite in the May- fair manner, and not a quarter so expensive. The dining-hall here is not so elaborate as that of its near neighbour ; but in the season it attracts a large number of " swells." The Langham also provides a table d'hote dinner ; and we believe other hotels have adopted the system of opening their dining-room to non- residents.
We can speak very favourably, and have heard others do so, of the Restaurant of the First Avenue Hotel, Holborn. It is a quiet, well-ordered place, with an excellent daily bill of fare — prices not too high, cooking good, wines equally so. Guests living at the hotel may if they please make use of this restaurant, and (we'll let them into a secret) in doing so may cut down the weekly bill a trifle ; though why one should pay more for dining in the salon than in the restaurant is a riddle only to be solved by those who know. We can only explain it in supposing that there is a sense of exclusiveness enjoyed in the salon that belongs not to the more public place, and for that, of course, we are all prepared to pay handsomely.
Attached to most of the leading West-end hotels are luncheon bars and " grill-rooms," where one may get almost anything in the shape of fish, flesh, fowl, and, for aught we know, in
'fit' Pf^lPKPW
The Table d'Hote at the Grand.
It is admirably served in a dining-hall one of the most attractive in London." P. 56.
Where shall we Dine ? 57
proper season good red herring, sandwiches, cold-meats, hot- meats, grilled chops, steaks, kidneys, " snacks " of fish, salads, plates of sonp and other eatables, with such drinkables as the inclination suggests : these are provided at more moderate prices than if served inside the hotels. And as far as our ex- perience goes, the luncheons provided at these " bars " and " grill-rooms " are for the most part excellent. When the Lieu- tenant (one of the personages of that pleasant piece of fiction, " The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton ") grumbled at the luncheon served to his party at the Ambleside Hotel, my Lady was moved to express her surprise. A young man, a soldier, who professed himself able to enjoy anything in the way of food, ouo-ht not, she thought, to have cared whether lemon and bread crumbs were or were not served with a mutton cutlet. " Madam," quoth the Lieutenant, " that is very well in a cam- paign, when you are glad of anything ; but there is no merit in eating badly-cooked food — none at all. * * * It is no shame that anyone should know what is good to eat, and that what he eats is properly prepared. It is not any more contemptible than dressing yourself in good taste." Continued the Lieutenant : " You cannot have everything in a desert island ; but in a town where you have time to study such things, a good luncheon is a good thing." Undoubtedly it is ; and it is well, perhaps, that the reader should know that he may secure one without much trouble, and at a moderate charge, at either of the places above- named, or, for that matter, at any of the restaurants mentioned in this chapter.
Of outside Restaurants, the Holborn and Criterion are the first in London. The Holborn Restaurant is probably the finest dining-place in the world. For elaborate and tasteful orna- mentation, it could hardly be surpassed. Indeed, apart from the merits of the dinners served in its saloon and numerous private dining-rooms, it is well worth visiting if only to judge of the luxury and splendour which now seem an inseparable part of the modern London dining-place. At the first glance one
58
London of To-day.
would think that the expenditure on marble pillars, marble stairways, alabaster walls, carved wood-work, panellings of oak, stained-glass windows, and examples of the potter's art, mirrors,
kill aai^aaafta8iiMKi@fe dKiil fe^Si
THE HOLBOHN RESTAURANT.
painting, gilding, and upholstery had been almost too lavish. But even such a big sum as a couple of hundred thousand pounds, for such matters as these (we have been told that was the cost of rebuilding) are within the possibilities of enterprising and
Where shall we Dine? 59
careful management, and the Holborn Restaurant can lay claim to this essential of its business, or it would never have reached its present place as one of the most popular dining-places in London.
Hotel proprietors and restaurateurs have long ago dis- covered the fascinating powers of music upon their customers. Experts tell us that Wagner brings a demand for lager beer, that Strauss exhilarates and causes champagne to be largely ordered, and possibly the music of modern English composers influences the consumption of brandies and sodas. We have yet to learn how appetite is affected. In London the pro- prietors of the Holborn give their customers an excellent band. The -Criterion has a chorus of glee -singers to wile away waits through the courses ; and the halls of St. James resound nightly with the combined forces of dinner band, Moore and Burgess, and other minstrels. These facts seem to prove that the three- and-sixpenny diner rather affects music with his meal. The dinner which he gets at the Holborn for that sum is of the usual six courses, and excellent it is. With wines of the favoured vintages, such a dinner is fit for a king, if kings love luxurious dining. The most noble the Marquis of Steyne, being asked to dinner by his sovereign, dined, as we know, from a boiled neck of mutton and turnips. His Majesty George IV. cared for nothing so much in his later days as stewed chicken and rice. But then he had no digestion. King William, his successor, loved a " gallhnawfrey," and dosed all his friends with it. Every king is not blessed with good appetite and digestion as the diners of the Holborn Restaurant are. The management humours everyone's whim, however, and apparently with success. It serves a broiled mutton chop and a glass of water with equal readiness and civility as a brace of birds and bottle of champagne. Having had the privilege of tasting all four at this restaurant, we are the better able to testify to the fact.
As to the Grill Room of the Holborn — an unusually attractive luncheon-place — a gentleman, whose good judgment in matters
<30 London of To-day.
pertaining to the table is unimpeachable, tells us that it is not to be bettered. " I dined there," he says, " with my wife, children, and the governess — a little party of seven. We had a chicken, chops and tomatoes, and a bottle of Beaune ; and the bill came to 15s." Could we better this at home with fowls at 7s. 6d. a couple ?
In the Strand are one or two noticeable dining-places, chiefly, however, patronized by gentlemen ; the Tivoli, Romano's, and the Gaiety. At the first, German cookery, and, for a London restaurant, good German wines and beer are to be had. The prices, too, are moderate. There is a French cafe at the foot of Ludgate Hill (north side) which may be recommended.
Ladies who come to London shopping, or for a day's amuse- ment, may lunch or dine with comfort at either of the following places : the Grand, the Metropole, the First Avenue, the Bur- lington (in Regent Street), the St. James's, close at hand, the Bristol, the Criterion and other establishments of Messrs. Spiers and Pond, the Holborn Restaurant. The principal confectioners patronized by ladies are Charbonnel and Walker, 173, New Bond Street, and Buszard, 197, Oxford Street (south side, a few yards from Regent Circus). These firms stand supreme. Marshall's, opposite Charing Cross Railway Station ; Thompson's (188, Regent Street) ; Duclos', near the Princess's Theatre (178, Oxford Street) ; and Simpson's (247, Oxford Street), are also to be recommended.
Before incurring much expense for a special dinner in London, it is best to consult a native diner-out, in whose judgment you may rely. If the dinner be ordered beforehand a day or two, this is not so necessary, seeing that at least half-a-dozen of the chief London restaurants can provide as good a dinner as one would wish to eat. But for a dinner on the moment it might be useful to note that tortue claire, tortue liee, fins and green fat, with the customary iced punch, are seldom to be had in perfection westward of the territory of the Lord Mayor, nearer, in fact, than Purssell's in Cornhill and the Ship and Turtle in LeadenhaTl Street. Nor would we advise filets de soles en matelotte Normande, rougetsii la Lyonnaise, tranches de Saumon,
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Where shall ive Dine? 61
sauce Genevoise, or devilled whitebait, anywhere eastward of Charing Cross. The East Room at the Criterion is the most likely place now to eat in perfection Supreme de Volaille aux truffles, Quenelles de Gibier a la Financiere, and Chateaubriand a la Cherron. Such toothsome dishes, with wines of the favoured vintages, are not to be had at every restaurant; still less are they to be found in ordinary bills of fare.
As to prices, a hungry man may satisfy his appetite in reason- able comfort for 3.?. Qd. ; a fastidious man for a trifle more, say 6s. ; a diner who can show good play with knife and fork upon tish, flesh, and fowl, and whose pint of claret makes but a poor account on the bill, for 7*'. Qd. ; an epicure for 10s. The prices- shown on the " Coffee-room " bill of fare of the Reform Club afford a fair insight into cost of dining at a London club of the first class. Soups are charged as follows : Julienne, Sd. ; Turtle, Is. 9 d. Fish: Cod, boiled, 1*. ; Salmon, en ^souchet, Is. 3d. ; Smelts, 9d. ; Sole, Is. Id. ; Whitebait, 1*. Entrees : Poulet en Fricassee aux Truffes, 3s. ; Filet de Boeuf and olives, Is. 4c?. ; Cotelettes de Mouton, 8 d. each ; Crepinettes de gibier, 8tL Roasts: Beef, Is. Qd. ; Mutton, Is. Qd. Poultry and game: Chicken, 4s. Qd. ; Wild Duck, 4s. 9d. ; Woodcock, 5s. ; Ptarmigan,. 2s. 3c?. ; Plover, 2s. 9d. Vegetables, Qd. and 9d. per portion ; Entremets, &c, from 4d. to Qd. per portion.
In a general way we should say that no more delicious oysters are to be had than at Pimm's in the Poultry, and Sweeting's in Cheapside ; and turtle than that which is supplied by Purssell's of Cornhill (78-80), and Painter's of Leadenhall Street (129-130), the Ship and Turtle tavern. Fish, plain boiled, may, doubtless, be had in greater perfection outside of London, but hardly so in London than that which is shown on the daily bill of fare of Blanchard's (Beak Street), Simpson's (the Strand), and the Tavistock in Covent Garden. In the line of Entrees and French dishes, no better place than the East Rooms at the Criterion. As to the roast, we say Blanchard's and the Tavistock. For game, we have eaten this in excellent condition at the IIol- born Restaurant, the Tavistock, and Blanchard's in Beak
62
London of To-day.
Street. In the important matter of wines, the diner-out shall not better some of those on the wine-tariff of the Tavistock,
Brown's, and But stay. We are all first-rate judges
of wine. This is a topic so fruitful of contention that it were
best to let the reader judge for himself. It is hardly necessary to add that opportunity is within his reach in almost every London thoroughfare. That admirable au- thority " Mr. Robert " l tells us that every class of diner-out has its pre- ferences. It is well not to disturb these.
On Sunday, if one should be com- pelled to dine away from his hotel or lodging, he must arrange to take his principal daily meal either be- tween 1 and 3, or after 6 after- noon. The London restaurants are closed till 1, and between 3 and 6. Dining-places are usually full on Sunday nights, being largely patro- nized by gentlemen who treat their wives and daughters to a mild dissipation to break the monotony of Sunday, or by more conscientious folk who dine out to give their servants a rest.
With respect to the railway terminal restaurants, it may be interesting to note that at most of them a fair luncheon may be had at a very moderate price. Several of these are quite popular dining-rooms, notably the Mansion House (Metropolitan Station) refreshment room, whose tiled walls bear evidence of the Antipo- dean origin of the founders of the firm, and that at Victoria Station. The Holborn-viaduct establishment has of late become popular, and deservedly so.
Those who, from motives of expediency or choice, may not 1 " Punch " (" Diary of a City Waiter ").
DRV, SIR
Where shall we Dine ?
63
care to dine at a restaurant which makes a carefully-selected cellar of wines one of its principal specialities, will find in Mr. Kent's, St. Paul's Cafe and Restaurant (61, St. Paul's Church- yard), a well-managed Temperance dining-place.
Of chop-houses there are few remaining : Dolly's has vanished ; the old Cock Tavern in Fleet Street is no longer in existence ; the Cheshire Cheese, in the same thoroughfare, is of distinction among chop-houses, though, as it seems to us, not quite the Cheshire Cheese of twenty years ago ; Stone's, in Panton Street, in the Haymarket, is entitled to notice.
In the City are many excellent Restaurants chiefly frequented by business-men. We need hardly mention them here, since strangers going into the City about luncheon-time will be sure to find them out, if not by invitation by unavoidable attraction. After the luncheon-hour (it is rather a prolonged one) the City Restaurants are deserted.
LUNCH AT THE C.S.C.S. STORKS.
64 London of To-day.
Chapter V.
WHAT'S GOING OX IN TOWN ?— THE SEASON— ITS PLEASURES AND AMUSEMENTS.
THE pleasantest time of the year to visit London is un- doubtedly in " the season," the period of the year when the guests, for whom London trade and society prepare their fascina- tions, assemble in the fashionable quarter of the town. London possesses in February and March, and, virtually, in December and January, most of the amusements which so clamorously assail the visitor in May, June, and July. All the forces of diversion and social occupation which London parades with so grand a nourish of trumpets after Easter, have been there long pre- viously drawn up to be used, if not to dazzle. The public seems about that time, however, suddenly to become aware that they are there, and to pounce down upon them in a sort of frenzy, that it mi<rht lose them if it did not devour them in the mass. For a period of three months in summer, by general assent called "the season," aristocratic London gorges itself, so to say, with pleasure and social dissipation. It eats many superfluous meals, ranging between " Willis's Rooms' " banquets, and ball-room suppers ; and, in general, dances, flirts, gossips, and goes to exhi- bitions, fetes, theatres, and opera more, and, on the whole, fatigues itself more by day and gets less sleep at night than in all other months of the year put together.
A thin and almost invisible line divides the London season from the months which precede it. With the re-assembling of the House of Commons after the Easter recess, it resumes itself in point of time, and may be said to begin in reality. The social energies which display themselves before that time are not
The Season.
65
so much spasmodic as inactive. Many distinguished families avoid tbe trouble of two migrations by not coming to town till after the Easter recess of Parliament ; re-unions and party-giving on a large scale are therefore difficult. And until such time as the fashionable journals " paragraph " the fashionable arrivals, and give unusual space to the dinner parties and receptions of the Mayfair and Belgravian quarter, the season cannot be said to have begun in earnest. When Earls, Countesses, and other
" swell " people contrive to let it be known that they have " arrived in town for the season," and are giving dinners and dances to their friends, then the means of plea- sure crop up and spread abroad in London in luxuriant profusion. The Court, represented by the Prince and Princess of Wales, and one or two other members of the Royal Family, usually becomes resident in London in May.
Art takes the initia- tive. The Royal Academy throws open its doors in the first week of May. The other art galleries, those of the Grosvenor, Royal Society of Painters hi Water Colours, and of the Royal Insti- tute, and kindred institutions are likewise opened to the public. In the musical world the operatic and concert announcements become more than ordinarily prominent, and tempt the eye if not the purse with a splendid array of musical talent. The managers of the several theatres put forth their most attrac- tive bills in order to encourage the patronage of visitors. At
E
WHEN EAULS, COUNTESSES, ETC.
66
London of To-day.
South Kensington, the authorities, equally alive to the opportu- nities of the season, hold their annual international exhibition, whereat conferences, evening fetes, military concerts, and the like are specially arranged to instruct and amuse the people who now throng to London. There are races at Epsom, Ascot, Sandown, and Kempt on Park: flower-shows in the charming gardens of the Royal Botanic and Horticultural Societies ; firework galas at the Crystal Palace ; military tournaments and horse-shows in the Agri- cultural Hall at Islington ; fashionable bazaars, amateur theatri- cals, and pastoral plays atKnightsbridge, Kensington, and Coombe Wood; meets of the " Four-in-hand" and " Coaching" clubs in Hyde Park ; excursions by coach to pleasant places in the en- virons ; cricket matches at " Lord's " and the " Oval ; " boat and yacht racing on the Thames ; Lawn-tennis tournaments at "Wim- bledon ; athletic contests at Brompton ; banquets, suppers, dances,
Harden -parties and re- ceptions every whore : these represent but a tithe of the amusements which the London season reserves for the votaries of pleasure.
SOME PLACES OF
FASHIONABLE OUT-DOOR RESOPvT.
Mrs. Delany, in a letter to her groat friend the Duchess of Portland, re- marks, " what company is in town you are sure of meeting in the Park." And what was true of her day re- mains true of our own. To find out " who's in town," meaning
WAITING FOU MY LADY.
The Parks and Gardens. 67
to engage in the occupation of critically surveying from an open carriage the youth, beauty, celebrity, and wealth of the town, is one of the earlier pleasures of the London season. These may be enjoyed to most advantage in the parks, but especially Hyde Park, where the upper classes of the English fashionable world congregate between five and seven o'clock, partly to take the air, but chiefly to see and be seen! There is no finer sight in London than " the drive " on a June afternoon. The most stately man- sions in Mayfair, Belgravia, and Tyburnia, contribute to the gay throng of distinguished personages who, for the space of two hours, in stately procession, two carriages deep, drive round and round the Ladies' Mile. In the morning, between eleven and one, the ride called Rotten Row — a wide avenue flanked by rrees extending along the southern boundary of the park — is crowded with ladies and gentlemen on horseback, representatives of " the upper ten." The singular name of this thoroughfare, we may parenthetically remark, is sometimes said to be a corrup- tion of Route du Roi, or King's Road; but Timbs mentions that it is derived from the word rotteran, meaning to muster, ami that its origin is traceable to the military reviews which used to be held here. The name is libellous and unpleasino-, and nii<dit well be changed for another that would do justice to the delight- ful avenue; some name that might reflect the soft, translucent foliage that borders it in summer, or the flowers which are bedded in rich masses along its walks, or the distinction that belongs to its frequenters.
Eotten Row is the entrance way of the London fashionable world. Xowhere else is the assemblage so aristocratic, so little diluted with the streams of inferior humanity. Shabbiness never ventures here. Seated in one of the chairs along " the Row " at the proper hour of the day, one may catch a glimpse of the most notable people in London : now of a Cabinet minister; now of a famous ambas- sador or foreign prince ; now of a popular bishop ; now of a leading Radical M.F. ; now of the Prince of Wales and his sons; now of a city magnate and ruler of the financial world : now of
68
London of To-day.
some famous artist, actor, or popular author. The dress of the riders is faultless as the horses they ride. For aught oue can see in Rotten Row ou a Midsummer morning, all the world may
be prosperous, dignified, well-tailored, and well- groomed. There is no such thing as poverty, and no such thing as work ; all the world is bent on pleasuring. Oc- casionally the music of the band of a regiment of Life or Horse Guards, stationed at Hyde Park barracks, lends strength to the illusion.
Royal and aristocratic wealth and state, Avhat- ever other results they may have had upon Eng- lish growth and society, have at least conferred upon London its chief embellishments and adornments ; and chief among these are its Parks. Had not Henry VIII. desired a park within reach of Whitehall, in which to lounge away an idle hour, and to hunt the deer, this magnifi- cent possession of four hundred acres would probably long since have passed into the energetic hands of the builder. Hyde Park, indeed, remained a royal park, to which none but the Sovereign and the Court people were admitted, for centuries after Henry had for ever done with beheading wives and defying Rome. The people, however, in time acquired the privilege of wandering at will over the royal domain; and it now, as everyone knows, belongs to the people who, truth to say, the fashionable habitues of "the season" notwithstanding, find ample enjoyment in its un- fenced meadows and beautiful walks. The restrictions which
IN ROUTE TO 1HE HOW.
The Parks and Gardens. 69
confront one in many pleasure-grounds are here absent ; and the purpose of public recreation is not defeated by arbitrary warnings against going this way or going that.
KENSINGTON GARDENS.
These gardens, which lie contiguous to, and practically form a part of Hyde Park, and for which the public is indebted to the taste of William of Orange, Queen Anne, and Caroline, the com- placent queen of George II., have been a favourite resort of Londoners for more than a century and a half. " The ladies of Queen Anne's days here loved to display their rich brocades and glossy damasks, while the wits and politicians of the Augustan age exchanged polished sarcasms on Stuart or Hanoverian, accord- ing to the political likings of the speaker's party." What was at that time the close preserve of the court and aristocracy is now a public park for the people of Bayswater and Kensington. Nursery- maids and children in the morning, and their elders and betters in the afternoon, have taken the place of the court ladies and the wits of the "Augustan age." "The Gardens," separated from " the Park " by a sunken wall and a bridge across the Serpen- tine, are a triumph of the landscape gardener's art. The trees are planted with discrimination, and the foliage is luxuriant. The surface undulates, and the paths wind now along the shore of a lake, now under a leafy archway, and now into an open space, bedded out with flowers of brilliant hues. Kensington Palace, which adds somewhat to the picturesqueness of the Gardens, was originally the residence of the Earl of Nottingham, and was purchased from him by William III. Within it Queen Mary, the consort of that king, died ; and Queen Anne subse- quently occupied it, giving those splendid fetes, which were attended by all the great world of London, attired in " brocaded robes, hoops, nycaps, and fans." She, too, died within its walls ; and in it also died George II., who, with Queen Caroline, had spent most of his time in it. It became the home of the Duke and Duchess of Kent, to whom, on the 24th of May, 1819, was
70 London of To-day.
born Alexandria Victoria, her present Majesty. It was here that news was brought her of the death of William IV., she receiving the messengers just as she had left her bedroom, "in a loose white nightgown and shawl, her nightcap thrown off, and her hair falling upon her shoulders, her feet in slippers, tears in her eyes, but perfectly collected and dignified." The Broad AValk in Kensington Gardens used to be — we do not know whether it may be so now— the fashionable promenade of the wealthier inhabitants of Bayswater and Kensington on Sunday afternoons, between four and six o'clock. Within five minutes' walk of Kensington Gardens, in the direction of the Royal Albert Hall, are the
HORTICULTURAL GARDENS,
the grounds of which are objects of attraction on many accounts — their merit in connection with garden architecture ; the interest, attending the flower-shows there held dui-ing April, May, June, and July ; and the special relation existing between the grounds and the annual international exhibitions now being held at South Kensington. The ground is laid out in three terraces, rising successively in elevation, and surrounded by Italian arcades open to the gardens. There are also cascades and waterworks. The highest terrace has a spacious conservatory, to form a winter- garden. These gardens are open daily from nine a.m. Visitors to the International Exhibition are admitted to them without extra fee, except on special occasions.
ST. JAMES S AND THE GREEN PARKS.
It was Henry VIII. who unconsciously endowed the inhabi- tants of London with what promised at one time to be the prettiest of all the parks — that which takes its name from St. James's Palace. But there is nothing here, remarks a recent chronicler of London, " to fill a man with envy by reminding him of the un-
The Parks and Gardens. 71
equal distribution of the world's honours and riches ; whatever his poverty may be, he can find rags to match his own ; and if he be splenetic, he may, as Goldsmith says, meet companions with whose groans he may mingle his own. The pinched faces of the 'lower orders' (as the labouring classes are called in England), may be seen as often as others ; and the hands are not dainty which share the contents of wicker luncheon-baskets and paper parcels with the water-fowl on the lake, which are said to be the direct descendants of those introduced by Charles II." This is so within the park, no doubt, though at times of the day and at certain periods of the year it makes some show of gentility. Bein<r on the high-road to the clubs and government offices, a steady stream of " swells " flows daily through the " Mall ; " and on "levee" and " drawing-room " days it is thronged with gay carriages, whose occupants are proceeding to pay their respects to royalty. To the student of contemporary manners, the hour between one and two afternoon, passed in St. James's Park on these occasions (the daily papers announce the dates) will bring some amusement.
The Green Park, in the very midst of the aristocratic quarter, adjoins Piccadilly on one side and St. James's on the other. It consists principally of greensward, but there are some fine trees in the north-western part, and some pretty flower-beds. The broad road crossing the park to Buckingham Palace is called Constitution Hill, at the top of which used to stand the equestrian statue of the first Duke of Wellington. Now that it has been wheeled away to Aldershot, one may see how great an improve- ment the re- arrangement of Hyde Park Corner has produced. The place seems as if it were destined to be the site of several statues. As London statues go, we may reasonably hope not.
REGENT S PARK.
Unlike the noble series of parks we have noticed, extending from Whitehall to Kensington, Regent's Park, north-westward of
72 London of To-day.
Oxford Street, was never a royal resort, and may be said to date from to-day. The largest of all, it was laid out under the direction of the Prince Regent, afterwards George IV., in the year 1812. It was formed out of crown lands, and derived its name from the title of the royal gentleman who gave it to the people. It is a beautiful open space, enriched with lakes, plantations, shrubberies, and beds of flowers. North of it rises the broad, gradual slope and cone-like summit of Primrose Hill, worn bare these many years by the feet of the multitude, having scarce any foliage, but with a look-out over London from the top which might have delighted the contemplative eye of Professor Teufels- drockh. The park is surrounded by extensive ranges of buildings, forming terraces, variously designated. On the western limit is the cosy and pleasant district of St. John's Wood, with its little secluded cottages and villas. On the opposite, eastern, side of the park is that land of semi-suburban lodging-houses and com- fortable retreats, Kentish Town ; and a little farther off, the somewhat more prosperous Camden Town ; while just north of these are the picturesque heights of Hampstead and of Highgate, redolent of memories of Coleridge, Lamb, Leigh Hunt, Keats, and Shelley.
THE BOTANICAL GARDENS
are situated in the Regent's Park, occupying the chief part of the space within the inner circle. They are supplied with a rich col- lection of exotic, as well as native plants ; and hither, at certain seasons of the year, on certain days (duly advertised in the daily papers), come a multitude of fashionable folk to the exhibitions and flower shows of the Royal Botanic Society. The Spring Ex- hibitions of Plants and Flowers usually take place on Wednes- days, in the last week of March and April ; the Summer Ex- hibitions of Plants, Flowers, and Fruits on "Wednesdays, in May and June. The great attraction of the year is the Evening Fete and Floral Exhibition, which takes place on "Wednesday, early
The Parks and Gardens. 73
in July. There are also " special exhibitions " during May and June, and " promenades " every Wednesday, from the first Wed- nesday in May to the first Wednesday in August. Admission by strangers is obtained through the courtesy of Fellows of the Society, and on special occasions by payment. The first page of the " Times," or the fourth of the " Daily News " will afford information on this point during the season.
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS
occupy a triangular space of about fifteen acres at the northern end of the Broad Walk, and along the Regent's Canal. This place has long been the pride of London, and no expense or care have been spared to make it the most interesting and complete zoological exhibition in the world. The " Zoo " in time past was as favourite a fashionable resort as Rotten Row. It was the custom of the " upper ten" to resort thither on Sunday after- noons, and promenade in its pleasant avenues enlivened by the sights and sounds of a bewildering variety of the animal world. As admission to these Sunday rendezvous was only to be had by permits from a Fellow of the Society, the general public were excluded, and the "best people" had the spacious grounds to themselves. In later years the " Zoo " has become less fashion- able on Sundays, though this day is still set apart for the admis- sion of Fellows and their friends.
In striking contrast with these exclusive gatherings is the multitude which invades the " Zoo " on Monday, which is the " popular-price " clay, when a sixpence opens the gate to the neediest. Then you may see troops of sturdy, good-natured, won- dering folk — men, women, and children — who come thither, not to see each other, but to stand amazed at the animal show ; to ride on the elephants and camels, and see the hungry lions i\~i\, and gaze amused at the ridiculous antics of the monkey com- inunity in their cage. On other days the price of admission is a
74 London of To-day .
shilling, and large crowds of people frequent the " Zoo " on Satur- day afternoons, when a cavalry-band discourses music near the refreshment pavilion.
No one can visit the animal treasures of the Zoological Gardens without a sentiment of wonder. Their preservation has reached here the perfection of science. No species of the animal world seems to have been omitted in the plan ; and the large space de- voted to the Gardens enables something like a representation of the natural haunts of each animal to be made. In all. there are nearly two thousand animals : many of them descendants of the original animals placed in the Gardens when they were laid out half a century ago. Nothing could be more picturesque than the disposition and adornment of the space. Swans and ibis, flamingoes, pelicans, and queer-shaped water-birds, are seen sun- ning themselves beside, or swimming in, graceful miniature ponds, while the plants and shrubs which surround them hint of the dis- tan regions whence they have been brought. Deer and antelope are gliding in little turfy parks ; the kangaroo has a familiar nook in a copse of shrubbery by himself. The elephants, guided by keepers, and their backs supplied with howdahs, wander at large beneath the high-spreading trees in the avenues. The amphibious rhinoceros and hippopotamus have independent houses, supplied at the side by such murky ponds as they love to wallow in ; the soft- eyed giraffe cranes his neck amiably over a high slight fence, and sometimes commits playful depredations on visitors' hats and bonnets ; the lions, tigers, leopards, jaguars, wolves, hyenas — malevolent beasts of the jungle, the prairie, and the steppe — are, of course, securely caged, the cages being spacious and airy. Most interesting is the reptile-house, provided with a splendid variety of the scaled and slimy creation, from the enormous boas and cobras to the green lizard and the glittering-eyed African viper. The bears have their pits, from the top of which one looks far down to see their antics in the Avell below, the beaver his hut, dam, and pond, very much as he had them in his days of fullest liberty. The other animals are equally well cared
The Parks and Gardens. 75
for, well housed, well fed, and rejoicing in manifold civilities from visitors. The Zoological Gardens in the summer months pro- vide one of the pleasantest places for recreation and study to be found in London, and especially for children, as well of the wealthy as of the poorer classes.
76
London of To-day.
Chapter VI. THE COURT—DRAWING-ROOMS AND LEVEES.
IT is not often now that the Royal Standard proclaims the presence of the Queen at Buckingham Palace ; and when it is flying there it is generally only for the few brief hours daring which Her Majesty is in London to hold a " Dra wing-Room."
^ The cheerless cere-
monial known by that name — a cere- monial restricted, of all seasons of the year, to the cold and treache- rous days of March and April — is a survival of the an- cient custom of Royalty to dine in public, as the Levee is of that of receiving persons of high rank while the Sovereign was completing his toilette. At the Court of Louis XIV. the change of clothing was a solemn function, one peer havino- the right to hand the monarch his shirt, and another to hold a candle while he re- moved that garment to don his nightgown. It is easily seen from Pepys and Saint Simon that the old custom of the drawing- room was that all properly-qualified persons, having sufficient
ESCORT DUTY,
The Court — Drawing-rooms and Levees. 77
quarterings or powerful protectors, were allowed to come and go about the palace during the evening, and gamble if they liked at le jeu die roi, the King's table being kept for him by some nobleman in whom he had confidence. This is the undoubted origin of public gaming-tables, and was developed to great lengths by the Prince-Bishops and other small German poten- tates, as well as by the patricians of Venice. In the reign of George II. the scandal of such proceedings as Charles allowed at Whitehall was attenuated to a reception every evening, when " all persons properly dressed," and, we may suppose, presented, were admitted while the Royal Family amused themselves playing at cards. By degrees this comparative freedom of intercourse between Sovereign and subject was diminished. After the death of Queen Caroline receptions were held only twice a week, and later still the King gave up evening receptions, and held his state earlier in the day, a practice confirmed by George IV., and con- tinued ever since. This simple explanation tells why colourless dowagers and shivering damsels are now called upon to don evening attire on bitter spring mornings and present a ridiculous spectacle to ribald spectators in the Mall and St. James's Park. Perhaps old Court customs and modern Court rules had better be left to antiquaries and gentlemen ushers. In the light of day they seem a little ridiculous ; and, doubtless, in a few years to come, will be merely interesting as the gossip of history.
As the regulations of the Court insist that all ladies who are to be presented shall appear in full Court-dress — that is to say, with low bodice, short sleeves, train, lappets, and a decoration of ostrich plumes as head-dress, it follows that ladies who might wish to appear otherwise are debarred the privilege of paying their respectful homage to Her Majesty in person. That these regulations are strictly observed, any lady with sufficient curiosity may judge for herself by standing for an hour or so after noon in the Buckingham Palace lload on a Drawing-Room day — that is to say, if she is not honoured with the acquaintance of a friend who has already been presented at Court. The train, plumes,
78 London of To-day.
and lappets are deemed indispensable ; the regulation as to the low bodice is sometimes not enforced in the case of ladies in delicate health. The feathers must be white, black onlv bean* permitted as deep mourning. They must be worn (a lady of distinction informs us) "so that they may be visible in the royal presence ; one long feather drooping at the side, and two curling over towards the face. In lieu of veritable lace lappets, a tulle veil of two widths, a yard long, may fall at the back. Gloves must be white, except when the Court is in mourning."
The Sovereign shows herself very jealous of any interference with rules and regulations established by custom and precedent. It has happened, we are told, that a bodice has had to be cut down in the palace itself, and a piece of tulle torn from the skirt of the dress has had to take the place of the forgotten lappets. A train, too, not properly lined has, in a current of air, fluttered over the head of the wearer, although the pages with their gold-headed sticks have striven to lead it the way it should go ; and under these distressing circumstances a lady has had to pass before royalty. Any costume not conforming to the regu- lations comes at once under the Argus-eyed court officials, and cannot appear in the presence-chamber. Young girls and brides presented wear white.
Attending a Drawing-room confers a sort of diploma of moral respectability, for only ladies of unimpeachable character may put in an appearance. Directly, it leads to nothing in the way of invitations, unless there is a personal acquaintance with some member of the Royal Family, or the person presented hold some official or political position, when it is desirable a few days after the Drawing-room to go to Buckingham Palace, and enter the name and address in the books kept there for the purpose, when an invitation to a court ball or concert may follow.
The etiquette to be observed by those who attend a Drawing- room or Levee, whether they be English or foreign, is as follows. The dates of such receptions are always announced in the daily newspapers. At least two clear days beforehand, the name of
The Court — Drawing-rooms and Levees. 79
the lady (or the gentleman) to be presented must be sent in before noon to the Lord Chamberlain, at his office, St. James's Palace, in order that it may be laid before her Majesty. No presentation may be made except by those who actually attend the court, therefore a letter from the person who presents, stating that it is his or her intention to attend, must accompany the application. In due course, if the Queen's sanction is obtained (aud it is only in extreme cases that this is withheld), a card is sent from the Lord Chamberlain containing some printed rules, and the name of the person presented and the person who presents. Large cards with these names distinctly written upon them are taken to the palace : oue is given to the Queen's page at the top of the staircase, while the other is handed to the Lord Chamberlain, who stands beside the Queen. No lady is allowed to attend more than one court reception in a year. Gentlemen only attend the Queen's Drawing-rooms with ladies, and in these circumstances may be presented with them. Those who attend Drawing-rooms after they have been presented need give no intimation of their intention to attend beforehand. Ladies are seldom presented more than twice in a lifetime — before and after marriage — unless they " come into a title." Officers in the army, diplomatic corps, &c, may go through the formula on each promotion. Ministers, ambassadors, and certain other distinguished folk, have the privilege of the " entree " — that is, thev arrive and depart at a separate entrance, and pass through the presence chamber before the general company.
The Drawing-rooms are held at * Buckingham Palace, the site of old Buckingham House and the Mulberry Gardens, the palace where George III. aud his queen brought up their numerous family in domestic fashion. The Levees — -unless on occasions very rare nowadays when the Queen (not the Prince of Wales) holds them — take place at St. James's Palace, where in the beoinning of this reign Drawing-rooms were also held. The suite of rooms here have been redecorated, but at best they are of uninviting aspect, even when the gay throng of splendidly-
80 London of To-day.
uniformed military and naval officers is there. The guard-room has the walls conrpletely lined with arms. Over the mantelpiece may be seen the initials, " H A." (Henry VIII. and Queen Anne Boleyn), united by a true-lover's knot. Buckingham Palace shows off to far better advantage the gold-laced uniforms and court-dresses, the costly costumes, the heirlooms of old lace and jewels, which, as a matter of course, are worn by those who have them. The company are admitted to Buckingham Palace at two o'clock ; but long before that hour the line of carriages be- gins to form in the Mall. The vulgar crowd stand without in the roadway to stare at the pretty faces, the plumes and lappets, the enormous bouquets, which the last season or so ladies have carried, and the gay liveries of the servants, many of whom also wear big bouquets. When at last there is a move, the carriages are driven through a fine quadrangle to the great entrance, where the company alight, amid a glamour of scarlet and gold. The Queen's guests cross the hall, paved with variegated marble, supported by marble pillars, and deposit their cloaks in a room across the sculpture gallery. Passing up the grand staircase, lined with Yeomen of the Guard ("Beefeaters"), the company traverse the picture gallery, boasting of some fine works by Greuze and Maas, and other well-known masters, and enter one of the suite of rooms, which are guarded by Gentlemen- at-arms, who cross their halberds at the doorway when no more can be admitted. The ladies keep their trains over their arm until they are about to enter the presence-chamber, when court officials remove it, and they reach her Majesty with train trail- ing on the ground. The Queen stands in the centre of a semi- circle of her illustrious relatives, the members of her Household behind.
This brilliant group stands in front of the alcove where is the throne. Those to be presented enter without the glove on the right hand. This they place beneath the extended hand of the Queen, which they kiss, bending as low as possible. It is necessary to curtsey to each royal personage (a somewhat diffi-
The Court — Drawing-rooms and Levees. 81
cult operation), walking sideways till the train is thrown by the Queen's pages on the left arm again; and, leaving the throne-room, the ceremony of presentation is over. Those who have attended a previous drawing-room simply pass the royal presence, bowing ; and when the court is held by any but the Queen in person, (although the presentation is considered in every case equivalent to one to her Majesty,) there is no kissing of hands. It is contrary to etiquette to turn round in the royal presence ; but everything is so well arranged, and the company are told so exactly what they are to do, that presence of mind only is necessary. This, however, we are informed, is not always forthcoming.
Levees are conducted on the same plan, but are confined exclusively to men, who wear uniform or court dress. The old court dress, sometimes seen now, comprised shoes with buckles, satin or velvet breeches, a cloth coat, with that curious appendage a bag wig, and richly embroidered waist- coat with lace ruffles, a cocked hat, and sword. About fifteen or sixteen years ago the Lord Chamberlain announced that dark cloth trousers of the same colour as the coat, with narrow gold stripes down the side, might be worn at Levees, but breeches are, we believe, part of the full dress for Drawing-rooms. The coat is of the form known as a dress coat, single-breasted, with gilt buttons, and a straight collar, embroidered, as are the cuffs and pocket flaps. A white waistcoat, white tie and cocked hat, and sword complete the suit. It may be in velvet or in cloth. On eertain days of the year, the so-called "Collar days," high diplomatic and distin- guished personages wear the collars and badges of the Garter, Thistle, and other orders of Knighthood.
COURT DRESS.
o t-
82
London of To-day.
Chapter VII.
STATE BALLS, DANCES, GARDEN PARTIES, AND
RECEPTIONS.
TOUCHSTONE says, "Why, thou never wast at. court; thou never sawest good manners." It is for sake of the much-to-be-desired learning of good manners possibly that the fashionable world is so anxious to put in an appearance at court
festivities. These in London
take the form of a State Con- cert or two in the year, in addition to a State Ball. Ladies on such occasions wear ordinary full evening dress, but gentlemen must appear in court dress or uniform. The state concerts, at which the best professional singers per- form, are held in the concert- room at Buckingham Palace. A fine organ is at one end, with huge standard candle- sticks in front, the royal family occupying an alcove at the opposite side of the apart- All the rooms are thrown open, and in certain of them refreshments are served. The Yeomen of the Guard are in attendance. An invitation is deemed " a command," and the company are supposed to be in their places before the royal family enter. At the balls, royalty begins the dancing with a quadrille
"the cream of society.
ment.
State Balls, Dances, and Garden Parties. 83
at the upper end of the room ; afterwards it becomes general. There is always on these occasions a magnificent display of dresses, flowers, and plate. The lighting is very perfect, a combination of wax lights and gas. A state ball is a brilliant sight, once seen not likely to be forgotten ; though to those invited outside the charmed circle of the best society it may be a dull affair.
The Prince and Princess of "Wales give a children's dance and a ball most years at Marlborough House, when the list of guests includes the cream of society and those famous in all branches of the professional, artistic, and political world. Such parties are far less formal than a state ball. The popular and beautiful Princess of Wales receives her guests, and both host and hostess dance
most of the evening, and enter into the entertainment with spirit. One of the last events of the season usually is a garden party at Marl- borough House. The grounds and the house it- self are very charming, and well arranged. The Prince and Princess also in most years give a " royal picnic " at Virginia Water, at the conclusion of the festivities of the Ascot week. Many of the chief balls of the Lon- don season are honoured by the presence of princes. These are received at the entrance by the host and hostess, and conducted to some specially reserved Supper is ordinarily laid for them in a separate room, to which a few are specially bidden.
GOING TO THE 1JAI.L.
seats.
84 London of To-day.
Subscription dances, under the patronage of along list of ladies, are given at the Town Hall, Kensington, and Princes Hall, Picca- dilly, both capital places for the sort of thing, with good floors, ample space, and surroundings of comfort and prettiness. In order to join any of these, it is necessary to be introduced by a steward or patroness, from whom vouchers are obtained. Surplus money is handed to a charity. The cost is not great ; for six of the best, including refreshments, £2 lOs. The Cinderella dances begin at eight and terminate at twelve, the hour when that young lady left the ballroom ; whence the name. Before the erection of these buildings London was badly off in the way of ballrooms. Most of the public balls were held at Willis's Rooms, where " Almack's " flourished. The annual Caledonian ball (in aid of the Caledonian Society) is still given there, and that of the Wiltshire Society, and others. At the Caledonian, which is one of the fashionable balls of the season, Scotchmen appear in Scotch garb. There are plenty of reels, and one or two fancy quadrilles got up by the lady patronesses, who are people well known in the fashionable world. Admission by voucher, on payment of a guinea. The ball takes place in the middle of June.
When Parliament meets, the political receptions begin. These are all much of one kind, on whichever side in politics the givers of these receptions happen to be. The throng come and go from about ten to twelve, and the more crowded the more successful. Sometimes there is a band ; often the only attraction is seeing and being seen. A buffet with light refreshment is set in one of the rooms. Xone of these reunions are so celebrated nowadays as those held by Lady Palmerston and Lady Walde- "rave, though Lord Hartington hospitably throws open the doors of Devonshire House, and Lady Salisbury collects crowds in Arlington Street. The ambassadors in diplomatic uniform, and ministers in their blue and gold, give life and colour. The Diplo- matic corps entertain a great deal. Whether political or social entertainments, the entree is only obtained into the charmed circle, for those who are strangers, by personal introductions, or
■ > ImMM
i- Hi sli
/ y'h
mm
"An event to which Fashionable London looks forward with interest." p. 85*
State Balls, Dances, and Garden Parties. 85
through their own embassies on some occasions. The Lady Mayoress usually holds receptions at the Mansion House on stated days in June and July, from 3 to 5 afternoon. The New Club, a fashionable and very successful " Society " club, in Covent Garden, once the famous Evans's (where music and suppers were the attractions), and subsequently the Falstaff" Club, has, during the last season or so, given the smartest balls arranged in London. The members invite their own friends, who include some of the prettiest and most distinguished women of the day. The club has its own private band, the rooms are fitted up to perfection, and no money is spared in floral decorations. It gives little dances and great balls, to which everyone in London society wishes to go : and many fashions have originated there — for example, the huge jonquil bouquets carried by ladies a season or two ago. The Soiree of the Royal Academy, at Burlington House, usually given in the middle of June, is an event to which fashionable London looks forward with interest. The Evening Fete and Special Exhibition of the Royal Botanic Society in July is another, and perhaps the most delightful of all the enter- tainments arranged for the special delight of London society. An open-air fete within reach only of the very select, is that arranged by the officers of the Household Cavalry, when the " I Zineari " match with officers of the Life or Horse Guards takes place at Windsor, generally in presence of members of the Royal Family. The Garden Parties and Dinners at " the Cot- tage " at Wimbledon, during the meeting of the National Rifle Association, are pleasant affairs. The annual reception of the President and Council of the Royal Society at Burlington House, is generally held in May. The President receives a large number of the most distinguished scientific men of the day, and entertains his guests, among other things, with a sight of many scientific curiosities, curious drawings of anthropological studies, sketches, maps, &c. The Benchers of the Inner and Middle Temple give a garden party in July in the pleasant gardens of the Temple. There is a Strawberry Fete, arranged by the Royal Horticultural Society in the society's gardens at Chiswirk. This pleasant
8Q
London of To-day.
event takes place early in July, or in the last week of June, Fellows and their friends are invited to inspect, the Gardens, in which fresh strawberries (most delicious of summer fruits) are supplied at Is. per basket. — Admission to Fellows, their friends, and orders and season-ticket-holders as on ordinary occasions, and to subscribers to the Chiswick Horticultural Society or bearers of their tickets.
The president and council of the Royal Institute of Water- Colours have lately inaugurated in their popular galleries, Picca- dilly, a conversazione which is a happy compromise between the private view, with its daring flights of millinery, and the smoking concert (as of the British Artists), with its genial
Bohemianism.
" Sandwich soirees " are also in voffue.
A QUIET COUNER.
Dinners — Anniversary and Ceremonial. 87
Chapter VIII.
DINNERS— ANNIVERSARY AND CEREMONIAL.
" " T has often perplexed me to imagine," writes Nathaniel X Hawthorne,1 " how an Englishman will be able to reconcile himself to any future state of existence from which the earthly institution of Dinner shall be excluded. * * * The idea of dinner has so imbedded it- selfamonghis Li] highest and deepest cha- racteristics, so illumi- nated itself withintellect, |i and softened ■
itself with the \ , . „ 1
kindest emo- i
tions of his hear t, s o -flfcfci linked itself with Church and State, and grown so majestic with long heredi- tary custom
and ceremonies, that by taking it utterly away Death instead
of putting the final touch to his perfection would leave him in-
1 "Our Old Home : Civic Banquets."
DINNER AT THE CLUB.
88 London of To-day.
finitely less complete than we have already known him. He could not be roundly happy. Paradise among all its enjoyments would lack one daily felicity which his sombre little island possessed." No city, town, part or section of the globe enjoys that "felicity" in greater measure than London in the Season.
The month of May ushers in the season of dinners. The ad- vertisement columns of the leading journals now become charged with notices of forthcoming dinners of a public or semi-public character. Some of these are arranged in the interests of chari- table institutions ; some to perpetuate the fame of a great school ; some to bring together the past and present officers of various regiments of the Queen's service ; others to revive the memories of a great victory ; others again for political purposes ; and others solely for the pleasure of eating and drinking, and not unfre- quentlv chiefly at the cost of those who are not made partakers of the feast. Examples of the first in order may be found in the annual dinners of the Royal Literary Fund, the Newspaper Press Fund, and the Artists' General Benevolent Institution ; of the second in the annual commemoration of old Rugbeians, or of the past scholars of Winchester, Marlborough, or Cheltenham ; of the third in the regimental dinners of the Royal Artillery, the 1st or Grenadier Guards Club, the 10th Hussars, or Royal Marines ; of the fourth, in the anniversary of " the glorious 1st of June ; " of the fifth in the annual banquets of the National Liberal and Cobden Clubs ; of the sixth and last in any of those nice little dinners -at the Star and Garter, Richmond, or the Trafalgar, Greenwich, arranged by enterprising financiers, di- rectors, and committee-men. From the epicure's standpoint these last dinners are generally the best, possibly because no expense is spared in providing the most delicious dishes, and other people's money is sometimes freely spent to make them alike gratifying to the palate and pleasant to the memory.
In addition to such entertainments of a public, semi-official, or commemorative character, there is the annual dinner of the Royal Academy, and the series of banquets given in the Season by the
Dinners — Anniversary and Ceremonial. 89
Lord Mayor at the Mansion House to the Judges, Bishops, Cabinet Ministers, Provincial Mayors, Representatives of Com- merce, the Arts, Literature, and the like which are also largely shared in by other members of society. The Inns of Court have also their periodical feasts — " Grand Nights," as they are termed t — on which occasions more or less distinguished guests are enter- tained by the Benchers of the several societies in the Halls of those societies.
Then there are the Parliamentary Fnll-Dress dinners, usually eight in number, to which M.P.'s alone are bidden, given by the Speaker of the House of Commons ; the Sessional dinners of each House; and finally the Ministerial "Whitebait dinner, given at the end of the Session. Interspersed with these we have dinners innumerable of Clubs, Societies, Civic Companies (for the most part the most desirable of any in London), and those of a com- plimentary character gotten-up in honour of individuals.
Few gratifications are more desired by London mortals than an invitation to the Royal Academy's dinner. The clear objects of men's desires are seldom of easy attainment : and an invitation to the Royal Academy's dinner is no exception to the common rule. A man may not only be a very respectable person, but may even be in a certain sense a very distinguished or influential person, and yet have little chance of being invited to that May banquet. The President of the Royal Academy has to recognize the claims of the Academicians and of distinguished painters who are not Academicians. Then, the dinner is understood to be representative in its character. There are always one or more members of the Royal Family present. The Church, the Senate, the Bar, Medicine, Literature and Science, the Army and the Navy, the City — all these claim their living illustrations in the companv. The President would find it difficult to entertain in one dining-room, or even within the enclosure of one reasonably- sized building, all the men in these various walks of life who consider that they have some claim to be regarded as distinguished or influential. It is to be feared that a good many persons are
90 London of To-day.
doomed to look out year after year with unavailing expectancy for an invitation to the Academy's dinner, and to find each year bringing only its new disappointment.
The scene of most public dinners in aid of charities in London is Willis's Rooms, King Street, St. James's. Anyone may attend these banquets who has a guinea to spend on a ticket, and one or more, let us hope, to hand to the secretary after dinner. There is something to be said in favour of this peculiarly English custom of lending support to charitable institutions by means of annual banquets. What says Menenius [ of the effects of dining on the human sympathies ?
" The veins unfilled, our blood is cold, and then We pout upon the morning, are unapt To give or to forgive : but when we have stuffed These pipes and these conveyances of our blood With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls Than in our priest-like fasts."
" Therefore I'll watch him till he be dieted to my request," adds the crafty Roman, bent on influencing the wayward Corio- lanus, " and then I'll set upon him." Nevertheless, let us not forget the admonition of Addison. Sir Francis Bacon, mentions a cunning solicitor, he tells us (the anecdote reads curiously like the story of Menenius), " who would never ask a favour of a great man before Dinner ; but took care to prefer his petition at a time when the party petitioned had his mind free from care, and his appetites in good humour. Such a transient, tem- porary good nature as this is not that Philanthropy, that love of mankind which deserves the title of a Moral Virtue."
The more generous charity, it is unnecessary to point out, is that which needs no " wine and feeding " to stimulate its bounty ; but since (with some sense of one's own shortcomings in this respect, be it admitted) the majority of us are less prone to acts of charity than we ought to be, by all means let us stick to public dinners, if, perchance, these make us more apt " to give
i " Coriolanus," act v., scene 1.
Dinners — Anniversary and Ceremonial. 91
or to forgive " and more generous in the bestowal of our guineas. A public dinner at Willis's Rooms, however, is not the pleasantest kind of meal to a gentleman of fastidious taste and nervous temperament. It is not gratifying to every one's feelings to have himself announced by name to a room- full of " stewards " and other strangers who take no more notice of the announce- ment than the lions at the Zoological Gardens do of blue-bottle Hies hi summer. The guest hears his name shouted by a waiter, and suddenly finds himself in an ante-room crowded with old, middle-aged, and young gentlemen in evening-dress. The guest makes his bow, and retires at once to the most convenient corner out of the way. Presently, dinner is announced, and, truth to say, dinners at Willis's Rooms are not quite so satisfactory as those usually served st home. After dinner come the speeches, which are, generally, by far the worst part of the banquet. There are, possibly, a score public men in England gifted with the faculty of after-dinner oratory. If the charitably-disposed guest be so fortunate as to find one of these occupying the chair he may be deemed lucky. For ourselves, we may remark that the worst examples of after-dinner speeches we ever listened to were delivered by a Cabinet Minister, an ex-Lord Chancellor, a scientific General, and a distinguished Admiral, and the best by a London vicar of a west-end parish, and a well-known journalist and man of letters.
Secretaries of charitable institutions are generally on the look- out for an illustrious or distinguished personage to fill the chair at these anniversary dinners, but as a rule these illustrious and distinguished personages are but indifferent orators. The in- quisitive stranger might find some entertainment, and possibly hear something worth listening to, at one or other of the fol- lowing public dinners if he can secure an invitation through a friend, or will be at the expense of a ticket : —
The Dinner of the Institution of Civil Engineers. „ „ Boyal Literary Fund.
„ „ Newspaper Press Fund.
92 London of To-day.
The Dinner of the Artists' General Benevolent Institution.
„ „ Royal Geographical Society.
„ „ Theatrical Fund.
The Festival of the Sons of the Clergy — Stewards' Dinner. The Cobden Club Dinner at Greenwich. The Dinner at the Guildhall on Lord Mayor's Day.
Dinners at the Mansion House are pleasanter and more de- sirable every way than most public banquets elsewhere. But it is not everyone who has the honour of an invitation from the Lord Mayor, though we have known instances where the exercise of a little diplomacy on the part of a stranger has secured one. Civic authorities are proverbially hospitable, and especially to foreign visitors. The Lord Mayor by ancient custom gives a dinner on Plow Monday (the first Monday after the Feast of the Epiphany) to his Household ; on Easter Monday to the Spital Preacher (the person appointed to preach the annual sermon before the Corporation on that day at Christ Church, Newgate Street), and the governors of the so-called Royal Hospitals; and later in the year he entertains the Fruiterer's Company, after their annual presentation of fruit. There are other dinners given at the Mansion House during the months of April, May, June, and July, but none depend upon any custom, though they are annually given. The City Companies' banquets are, on the whole, the best arranged and most delicious feasts given within the jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor. Interest with the Prime Warden, Master, or Clerk of a Company might possibly procure an in- vitation to one of these, though it can hardly be a pleasant ordeal to ask for one; and the onlv excuse for doing so would be a legitimate desire to study the customs of these ancient guilds. " Grand Nights " at the Middle Temple and other of the Inns of Court, are occasions of pleasant festivity. Comparatively few guests are admitted to these banquets of the lawyers. Personal distinction or intimacy with one of the Benchers seem to be the best passport to their hospitality.
If the " Grand Night " feasts of these days are not charac- terized by the pomp and profusion that distinguished them in the
Dinners — Anniversary and Ceremonial. 93
early history of the Inns of Court, there is none the less attention paid to the important consideration of good eating and drinking. We read of " tender meats " and " delicate confections " being served up to the " courageous blasts " of sixteen trumpets, with drums and fifes, and the " sweet harmony of violins, sackbuts, recorders, and cornets," in addition to which double cannons fired " warning shots," intimating to the constable-marshal to prepare for dinner. These ceremonials are gone ; but the substantial part of the ceremony remains, modified, it is true, but modified for the better. It may be interesting to see what the Templars have for dinner on these nights in the summer season, and to learn how much they pay for it. We are not referring to the luxuries provided for the Benchers and their guests, nor even to the lesser bill of fare enjoyed by the " senior bar mess," where dine the senior members of the Bar who are not of the Bench. But to take an ordinary mess of four, whether of bar- risters, or students, for they dine indiscriminately together at the Middle Temple. First, they have a tureen of soup, next a sirloin of beef, or a leg of mutton, then a duck with asparagus, followed by a tart, or, as it would have been formerly called, a " pasty," and cheese, &c. They are, moreover, supplied with as much beer as they like, not " buttery beer," but excellent bitter ale, and two bottles of wine (generally one of champagne). For this repast each man pays the modest sum of 2s. The " loving cup " is passed round the hall, or, to speak more correctly, is- passed as far as it will go, for in modern times it has never been known to reach the last man. In olden days the cup was filled with mead, and there is a tradition that on one occasion the- students consumed thirty-six quarts of that beverage. This might have been in the time of Queen Mary, when brawls and violence were frequent among the students, and resulted in their being forbidden to bring their swords and daggers in to dinner with them.
A Regimental dinner is of course open only to those gentle- men who have served or are at present serving with the corps or
94 London of To-day.
regiment in honour of which it is given. These banquets are unusually good if somewhat expensive. They are mostlv held at the Metropole and Grand, at the Ship and Turtle, in Leadenhall Street, less frequently now at Limmer's Hotel; in point of fact, at those dining-places where a good dinner commands a good price, and where the price paid is, generally speaking, sure to command a good dinner. Spiers and Pond secure a fair share of these special banquets at the Freemasons' Tavern. They mostly take place between the last week of May and first week of July. The Derby and Ascot weeks are fa- vourite dates for regimental dinners in London, because officers serving with their regiments at Aldershot, Chatham, Portsmouth, and other garrisons generally manage during those weeks to get a day or two's leave for " a run up to town." The consumption of food is not the only object which brings brothers, or rather grandfathers and uncles in arms, to mess with their old regiment in London. There is a great attraction in having worn the same badge and marched under the same colours, and it is naturally interesting to soldiers, who have long since turned their swords into reaping-hooks, to run up to town and meet the " young fellows," the competition youngsters who have invaded the ser- vice of late years. To retired officers who have missed the annual regimental dinner for a dozen years or more, the absence of fiery sherry and " strong military " port, and the difficulty of " getting forrarder " on dry champagne and sound claret, will, possibly, appear an improvement, even if the lemon squash, which has superseded brandy and soda-water, may seem effeminate. There will, probably, at every such banquet, be a colonel or two at least to tell each other quietly that the " service has ^one to the dogs," but these veterans can hardly be numerous enough to cast a gloom over the board, at which, mayhap, old comrades may meet who have not seen each other since they last stood side by side on a well-fought field.
There are some other dinners given during the season, a seat at which one might be pardoned for coveting, if solely on the
Dinners — Anniversary and Ceremonial. 95
ground of curiosity. Of such, we might name the annual " Derbv " dinner (given on the evening of the Derby Day) at which all the greater personages of the racing world are present. If we mistake not, this Banquet is now given by H.R.H. the Prince of Wales. The Trinity House dinner should be also mentioned as one of note ; and the annual dinner of the Navy Club (composed of distinguished naval officers) to the First Lord of the Admiralty is an interesting event. A " command " dinner at Windsor Castle would no doubt be a novel experience to one curious as to the etiquette of the Court, if ciiriosity in this matter were not a sure bar to the honour of a " command."
HIS ROVAL HIGHNESS IN THE CHAIR.
96
London of- To-day.
Chapter IX. LORDS AND COMMONS IN SESSION.
ENGLAND, contrary to most other nations, holds its Par- liamentary Session in the summer, or, to be strictly accu- rate, during spring and summer. While most persons are pining to live in the country, England's assembly of wise men prefer
* 'AjS^
,4'*J
IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
being cooped up in town. They devote to legislation and town life exactly that space which intervenes between the death of the last pheasant, and the shooting of the first grouse, as by law permitted — that is to say, between the middle of February and the second week in August. Many visitors to London look forward to a night in the House of Commons as one of the most interesting engagements of their stay. The proceedings of Par- liament, however, are, as a rule, very dull ; and, except for the gratification of a pardonable curiosity in seeing the people's re- presentatives, engaged in the people's business, are hardly worth the studying at Westminster. The newspapers print more than most persons care to know of the " wordy talk " of England's legislators. As to the great majority of M.P.'s themselves, any- thinc noteworthy in their appearance may best be studied in the
Lords and Commons in Session. 97
brief half hour before four in the vicinity of Westminster Hall under guidance of a friendly policeman. It is not easy to learn beforehand when the great popular leaders may be expected to make set orations ; as these are generally worth hearing, it behoves the earnest student of English men and manners to be watchful of his opportunity, and to read his newspaper. On such in- teresting occasions, the demand for seats by strangers is always greatly in excess of the accommodation provided. Indeed, the British House of Commons will hold only about one-half of the members actually elected to sit in it, on either side of Mr. Speaker. There are 306 seats on the floor of the House. In addition, accommodation is provided for 122 members in the side galleries, where they can see very little, and whence, in accor- dance with unwritten rnle, they, till lately, never took part in debate. Of the 670 members for whom the Constitution finds constituencies, only two-thirds can find seats of any kind in the House of Commons. The accommodation for strangers is on a correspondingly limited scale. There are forty-four seats under the gallery nominally allotted to peers and officials. Peers, how- ever, are in the habit of assembling in the gallery over the clock, where they share with Westminster schoolboys (this is a piece of " immemorial " humbug : why should Westminster boys ex- clude the citizens at large ?) and other distinguished strangers an accommodation limited to nineteen seats. The Speaker's gallery is seated for forty-three persons, the Strangers' gallery for sixty, and the Ladies' gallery for forty-nine, of whom about fourteen can hear the debate and see considerable portions of the House. At the other end of the House, over the Strangers' gallery, there is a smaller, darker, and less well-known cage, with pens that will hold eight ladies. Seats for this space are in the gift of the Sergeant-at-Arms, but many members live through a Parliament, and thousands outside who take an interest in its proceedings, and never hear of this institution. The net re- sult is that the House of Commons, when filled to its fullest capacity, will hold 691 persons, of whom 203 are strangers.
G
98 London of To-day.
Perhaps Mr. Parnell and his forthcoming Irish House of Commons or Representatives may help to remedy this inconvenience.
Strangers (ladies and gentlemen) who have not the advantage of being personally known to a Member of Parliament, should seek out some friend through whom an introduction may be had. A member's written order is the only passport to the Strangers' Gallery. The more coveted place reserved to the male public is the Speakers' Gallery ; but here again a member's aid is necessary, unless the applicant can obtain that of some more influential personage known to the Speaker or Serjeant-at-Arms. No doubt admission may, in some cases, be obtained to either gallery through a courteous written application to one of the principal officials of the House. The secretary of Legation ■would probably help American applicants, whose curiosity is not to be satisfied by the reports and descriptions given in the " Daily News " and other London journals.
The Ladies' Gallery, because of its limited accommodation, is still more difficult to enter, and, once entered, is not a very pleasant place on a hot summer's night. To avoid disappoint- ment, in every case the applicant would do well to write or apply for an order of admission at least two days in advance of the day on which he or she may wish to be present in the House.
The Parliamentary Session begins, as we have said, in Feb- ruary, and ends in August, with a recess at Easter and Whit- suntide. The more important business of the nation is ordi- narily taken in hand after Easter, and it may be said to be at highest pressure during the " heated term " (if we have any) in May, June, and July. The House of Commons meets at four in the afternoon of Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday; and unless " counted-out," on the attention of the Speaker being called to the fact that less than a quorum — forty members — are present, seldom rises before midnight, and occasionally sits con- siderably beyond that hour. On Wednesday it meets at noon, and invariably rises at six. Towards the end of the Session,
Lords and, Commons in Session.
90
morning sittings are sometimes held from two till seven, followed by evening debates beginning at nine, and continued frequently till dawn.
The evenings of Monday and Thursday are known as " Go- vernment nights," when Bills in progress have precedence of Notices of Motion. Tuesdays and Wednesdays are supposed to be set apart for private members' business, that is to say, of others than members of the Government. On Tuesdays notices of motion precede Bills in progress. Hence Tuesdays are de- voted to " academic discussion." l
The daily business of the House of Commons begins with
prayers read by the chaplain, who comes in with the Speaker, officially robed and wigged, attended by the Serjeant-at- Arms in Court-dress, carrying the mace, which he deposits upon the table furthest from the chair. The mace remains here so Ions as the Speaker sits in the chair; when he vacates it, and the House resolves itself into Com- mittee, it is laid to rest on a rack under the ledge of the table. From four till half-past seven the house is usually
i We are chiefly indebted for these facts to Mr. David Anderson's "Scenes in the Commons," London, 1884.
MR. SPEAK Kll.
100 London of To-day.
well attended ; but during what has come to be known as the dinner-hour, which extends to ten or a little later, it is, as a rule, comparatively empty. But it does not follow that some of the more interesting proceedings of Parliament may not take place during the dinner hour and before it. Before dinner one may be witness of the " badgering " of ministers, during dinner of, possibly, the farce of a " count ; " after dinner of, perhaps, the excitement of a critical division. It would be well, therefore, that the stranger should be in his seat in the gallery — if he desire to hear the best speakers and make himself acquainted with all the more interesting procedure of the House — at the hour of meeting, and be prepared to continue in it till the time of adjournment ; it may be long after midnight. To that end he would do wisely to refresh himself both inwardly and outwardly before going down to the House, or he may find himself somewhat exhausted in attempting to stay through the whole of a sitting. Ladies are more hospitably treated in their gallery in being supplied with tea and other light refreshment. Generally, the more important speeches in debate, that is to say, of ministers and the opposition leaders, are delivered after the dinner hour. The preliminary work of " keeping the pot boiling " is left to bores and bad speakers, and a sufficiently dreary business it is — at least, to those not actually occupied with it. A good " square " meal and an even temper will tend greatly to alleviate the wretchedness of being wedged in tightly in the Strangers' Gallery on a hot night with all sorts and conditions of men listening for three or four hours to the commonplace speeches of feeble orators.
Some fifty years ago there was a book written by an American author, the forerunner of many similar books, which became very popular both in England and America. This book was " Colonel Crocketts' Exploits and Adventures in Texas." The Colonel, among many other sage remarks, gave it as his opinion that nothing but the dollars and mileage could compensate a man for sitting in Congress. " Some men," said he, " take a pride in
Lords and Commons in Session.
101
saying a great deal about nothing — like windmills, their tongues must be going whether they have any grist to grind or not. This is all very well in Congress, where every member is ex- pected to make a speech to let his constituents know that some things can be done as well as others ; but I set it down as rather an imposition on good nature to be compelled to listen without receiving the dollars and the mileage. Many members will do nothing else for their pay but listen day in and day out, and they earn every penny of it, provided they don't sleep. * * *
SLEEPING ORATORS.
No man can imagine, who has not tried it, what dreadful hard work it is to listen. Splitting gum logs in the -dog days is nothing to it. I've tried both, and give the preference to the gum logs." The " bearings of these observations," as Captain Cuttle says, " lays in the application on it."
Were it not for the occasional eloquence and good sense interspersed with the " wordy talk," the gallery reserved to strangers would be, on ordinary nights of the Session, a purgatory to be avoided by every person of any sensitiveness. " Do you mean seriously to tell me that you are not bored in the House
102
London of To-day.
of Commons ? " asks Kenelm Chillingly of a friendly M.P. " With the speakers very often, yes ; but with the strife between
PLAN OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
Ladies' Gallery.
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#*„ When the Liberals are in power the Independent and Radical members of that party occupy seats below the gangway on the right ; the Parnellites seats below the gangway on the left of the Chair.
the speakers, no," he answers. This reply sums up in few words the principal inducement to most persons who are can-
Lords and Commons in Session.
103
didates for seats in the galleries, and especially on great " Field Nights." The " strife between the speakers " is the sole [at- traction. The reader may find the foregoing plan useful as indicating the places occupied by the various parties in the House of Commons.
LORDS SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL.
Admission to hear the Debates in the House of Lords is ob- tained through the written order of a peer. A courteous applica- tion generally meets with a speedy answer and the requisite order. The Lord Chancellor takes his seat on the woolsack (the official seat) about four and the House rises on most evenings of
104 London of To-day.
the session between 6 and 7. Occasionally, but not often, its debates are prolonged to a later hour. The arrangements of the House of Lords are somewhat similar to those of the lower chamber. Members of the government and its supporters sit on the right of the Lord Chancellor ; the opposition to the left. On the " cross-benches " below the table sit the Princes (when they are present), the Duke of Cambridge, and the more " inde- pendent " members. The Bishops are always seated to the right of the Lord Chancellor. The doings of the Upper Chamber have little interest for the majority of the citizens of London, except when it interferes with the progress of legislation by coming in too eager conflict with the House of Commons. A stranger will find more to interest him, perhaps, in the Lords' debates in the brief space of two hours than the average Englishman will find in the course of six months. At all events a visitor should be able to gratify his curiosity by looking on the Throne, the Lord Chancellor, the Woolsack, possibly four or five bishops in their lawn and black satin robes, and (on exceptional occasions) maybe fourscore or more elderly gentlemen of noble ancestry, seated on roomy red-leather-covered benches. The House of Lords has always contained among its members some of the most eminent lawyers of the country, a successful general or two, and a considerable number of the more wealthy landowners of the kingdom of more or less ancient nobility. A friendly occupant of a seat in the gallery would no doubt be willing to point out to a stranger the statesmen and " men of light and leading" among these.
The Clubs. 105
Chapter X. THE CLUBS.
ENOUGH has been written of the London clubs for every one to know their names, their location, and the privileges of their members. We have said something on this subject else- where (Parliament Street to Pall Mall). Men seek admission to them for various reasons : for the convenience of a permanent London address ; for political reasons ; for the honour of being permitted to write on club-paper ; for the right of imprinting the club name on their visiting-cards ; for the sake of a good dinner well-served at a moderate price ; for the pleasure of entertaining their friends in better fashion than at home, in lodgings, or at a restaurant ; for the sake of a little gambling in genteel society ; as a refuge from domestic worry. Strangers to London seldom obtain the privilege of the entree, unless they happen to be dis- tinguished strangers, though English gentlemen visiting a foreign city are usually iuvited to become honorary members of every club in the place, and that by natives of very slight acquaintance. One might be pardoned for thinking that the " Union," " Somer- set," or " St. Botolph " Clubs of Boston are not one whit less respectable or exclusive (in the vulgar sense of the word) than the " Carlton " or " Reform," or, let us say, the " Garrick " of London. The Englishmen who have been admitted to the honorary membership of the former during a visit to Boston must outnumber the Americans who have been admitted to the privileges of the latter as ten to one. The number of Americans connected with letters to whom the doors of the "Athenaeum" of London have been opened might be computed at one to ten in comparison of English literary men to whom the hospitality of
106 London of To-day.
the " Century " or " Union " of New York has been freely offered. Visitors to London then will not think it unfriendly if, not being of the class of " distinguished strangers," they find clubland rather a region of inhospitality and frigid reserve than of amiability and fraternal kindness.
After all, we do not know that they miss much in not having access to the clubs. An idea prevails among the uninitiated that a London club is an epitome of sumptuous comfort. There can be no greater delusion. The majority of clubs wear, in the daytime especially, a singularly comfortless aspect. The rooms are, unquestionably, of handsome proportions, and the upholstery of superior though weighty grandeur ; but these things alone do not convey any sense of comfort or snugness. Club-rooms are generally lacking in warmth of colour, and their grim severity is unbroken by the pretty little occasional tables, cabinets, and screens — in a word, those graceful superfluities which give to rooms an air of home. The Strangers' Room for diners is generally as dreary an eating-place as can be imagined, and apart from the dinners served in them, and the pleasure of partaking of a friend's hospitality, to be avoided by anyone who can afford a seat at the table d'hote of the Grand. Most club smoking-rooms are on a par with smoking-rooms elsewhere, neither better nor worse. Men talk, smoke, drink and snore, and the loudest talkers and snorers are voted nuisances by those about them. It is a mistake to suppose there is anything like general conversation or general introduction as in military mess-rooms or in the ward-room of an ironclad. Host and guest keep together and converse with timorous speech as if afraid of being overheard ; and as for listening to the gossip of the town, a stranger hears about as much of this in a London club as he does in Covent Garden Market. The card-rooms and billiard-rooms have their attractions ; but on the whole we ineline to think that the three great inducements to club-life are those which the Reading, Breakfast, and Coffee-rooms afford.
The suburban clubs constituted for the purpose of social enter-
The Clubs. 107
taininents should be noticed. Such are " Hurlingham," " Rane- lagh," the " Orleans," &c. They are conducted upon the ordinary club plan, but have grounds as well as a house, where polo, pigeon- shooting, lawn tennis, and other out-door amusements are carried on. Members may admit friends of either sex, and on summer afternoons constantly take down parties to see the polo or play lawn tennis, and to dine afterward. There is a new development of the same sort in London, where what may be called cafe and casino clubs have been established. At the former, such as the " Bachelors' Club," ladies are invited to dine or sup by the members before or after the theatre. At the " New Club," which is at present the only specimen of the latter class, a band plays every night at eleven, when persons who have been to the play, or have nothing particular to do, drop in and drink coffee and smoke. There are weekly balls in the season. Young ladies go to the balls, but the visitors on ordinary nights are mostly fashionable " friskies." We will not say so ; but a writer of undoubted authority in " Harper's Magazine " does.1
i May, 1886.
108
London of To-day.
Chapter XI.
THE ROYAL ITALIAN OPERA.
F*OR many years it was customary to publish the prospectus of the Royal Italian Opera in the beginning of March ; the season itself commenced about the last week of April. It con- tinued for a period of about sixteen weeks, ending the middle of July. Ordinarily four regular performances were given weekly, namely, on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, commencing each night at eight o'clock. Wednesday there was no perform- ance ; but on Friday in most seasons there was. The principal support of Italian Opera in London was the system of "subscrip- tion," by which the wealthy engaged, at the beginning of each season, to rent a "box" or " stall " for a stated number of nights, generally two out of the four or five on whichperformances were given. The " Subscrip- tion " consisted of Twenty Nights, and the terms were as follows : — Boxes on the Third Tier (for four per- sons), 20 guineas ; Boxes on the Second Tier (for four persons), 40 guineas ; Boxes on the First Tier (for four persons), 70 guineas ; Boxes on
THE STALL?, PLEASE.
The Italian Opera. 109
the Grand Tier (for four persons), 120 guineas; Boxes on the Pit Tier (for four persons), 110 guineas; Orchestra Stalls (each), 16 guineas; Reserved Dress Circle Seats (each), 10 guineas; Re- served Amphitheatre Stalls, first or second rows (each), 8 guineas.
The ordinary nightly prices range from '2s. 6d. for a seat in the gallery, to £5 5s. for a private box for four persons on the prin- cipal tier. A pit ticket costs 7s. 6d. ; an orchestra stall, £1 Is. ; a seat in the dress circle, 10*\ 6d. Seats can be booked in ad- vance at the box office, open from 10 to 5. Evening dress is deemed indispensable in all parts of the house (except the gallery) during " the season."
There are two houses connected with Italian Opera in London — Her Majesty's Theatre, in the Haymarket ; and the Royal Italian Opera House, in Bow Street, Covent Garden, ordinarily called Covent Garden Theatre. It is no secret that while theatrical management of late years has been excep- tionally prosperous in London, operatic management has been the reverse. Mr. Ernest Gye, than whom no one may claim to speak with better authority, or a more intimate knowledge of operatic affairs, has pointed out wherein the theatres have the best of it from a business standpoint. When a play makes a genuine hit, it may be run for hundreds of nights, for months, sometimes for years. Let an opera be the best the world ever saw, the operatic manager cannot play it every night. The public will not listen to the same music night after night. They expect variety. This means enormous additional work and ex- pense, a great 3taff of carpenters and wardrobe people to change the scenery, to repair and put back into store hundreds of dresses, to get out and to look over hundreds more. In a little theatre, when the manager has secured his success, the scenery and dresses go on till they are worn out ; and a new set has to be bought. This means that a squad of night carpenters may be dispensed with. In an opera house there is carpentering going on morning, noon, and night. The law of the place is perpetual change. There is no end to the rehearsals. The music library
110 London of To-day.
of the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden, is a department of the greatest importance, and involves a great deal of work. There are transpositions and cuttings innumerable to be made to suit each prima donna ; and these alterations affect not only the
BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
principal soprano, but everybody else, including the orchestra. The quantity of music to be copied is very great.
Ao-ain, while the London theatres, generally, have raised their prices of admission, those of the Italian Opera have remained stationary. The price of a stall at Covent Garden was, indeed, for a time raised to 25s. ; but the public would not pay it. Yet while it costs in technical language from £120 to £140 to " raise
The Italian Opera. Ill
the curtain" every night at a London theatre, it costs the manage- ment of the Opera £600 or £700 when artists who attract the public appear on its stage. The increase in the remuneration of artists has been very great. Mario and Giulia Grisi earned together little more in a month than a single soprano now does in a week. £400 per night is a tremendous sum to pay a prima donna, when it is considered what else has to be paid, and the loss on the unavoidable dull nights, when the house is only half- full. America is credited with having brought about the rise in prices. Another cause is the scarcity of singers of the first class. There are only three or four first-class soprani in the world, Mr. Ernest Gye says, and some of these are hardly at their best. They are eagerly competed for, and consequently obtain extrava- gantly high prices. As a matter of course, every opera-manager is only too eager to secure a young soprano with a fresh voice — who, if she existed, could of course be engaged for a fourth of the salary of present prime donne. "Since Patti, Lucca, Nilsson, and Albani, very few have come to the fore, and for the most part with thin, wiry voices, not the voices to master the music of either Wagner or Gounod. Managers are always hoping to find the coming soprano ; but she is a rare bird. How many have there been in the course of thirty or forty years ? Giulia Grisi, Jenny Llnd, Sontag, Tietjens, Cruvelli, and Gerster perhaps, Persiani and the like were of the second rank as to voice. Alboni, superb and unapproachable in her quality of voice, was one of the great mistresses of song at the Covent Garden Opera House. Again, Mario, Tamberlik, Sims Reeves, Lablache, Giuglini, Gardoni, Graziani, and Formes, sang at the Haymarket opera and here. If those successful singers are spread over thirty or forty years, the average of first-class voice and commensurate musical and histrionic skill is not very great." It is, however, quite time, Mr. Gye thinks, that somebody made a hit. " Success in Germany and Russia is not enough to establish an artist. Only Paris and London give the real brevet of rank. Nobody cares a rush for a success at Vienna and St. Petersburg."
1J2 London of To-day.
Infinitely more is known about music, Mr. Gye savs (in this he but expresses the common opinion), than in the days of his fathers management of the Opera House twenty years or so ago. " But the people who love music are divided into sections, and all of these do not believe in Italian opera of the melodious school of Mozait, Bellini, Donizetti, Rossini, and Verdi, the masters who really attract the general public, and whose method is again coming into fashion among French composers. In the old time in London there were only the orchestras of the Opera and the Philharmonic to perform any piece of music. Now the field is enormously large, and excellent musical entertainments are pro- vided for all schools of musicians and amateurs. Competition of this kind has a great deal to do, of course, with producing in- difference as to the Opera, which was once almost the only place in London to hear music in, and was besides a fashionable sort of rendezvous — a place where one met his friends. Another present difficulty of operatic management is the scarcity of new operas and new singers. Since Gounod's ' Faust ' the only great success (according to Mr. Gye) has been Boi'to's ' Metistofele.' Not that plenty of good music has not been written, but that nothing like the ' Trovatore ' or ' Pugoletto ' of one master, or the ' Huguenots ' or the ' Prophete ' of another has been turned out of late years." As to Wagner, Mr. Ernest Gye thinks that life is not long enough to discuss his music. " He produces his operas, but there is a terrible dearth of new, good, and popular work, like that of Verdi, on which operatic management used to run as on wheels — good vocal music, in fact."
But for Madame Adelina Patti the year 1885 would have been noted in musical annals as the first for upwards of a century and a half in which London had been without an Italian opera. Generally, during the last forty years— indeed invariably from 1846 until, two or three years ago, when Mr. Mapleson retired from the management of Her Majesty's Theatre — two companies of Italian singers performed in London throughout the season ; and once, when Mr. E. T. Smith made a gallant attempt to
The Italian Opera. 113
popularize Italian Opera, we had as many as three. During the great Wagner season, again, when the " Ring des Niebe- lungen" was performed at Her Majesty's Theatre, while every work that Wagner had up to that time produced, from the "Flying Dutchman" to the aforesaid "Ring," was given under Herr Richter's direction at Drury Lane, we had the lyric drama represented in the course of one season by two German and two Italian companies. Suddenly, however, the two German ma- nagers retired from the scene, and the two Anglo-Italian sur- vivors of the contest formed a compact by which, in lieu of the two Italian operas previously not thought too much for London, we were to have but one. The new experiment was attended with no success the first season, and ended in catastrophe the second; and so complete in 1884 was the operatic collapse that Italian opera, or rather cosmopolitan opera in the Italian lan- guage, seemed, so far as England was concerned, to be at an end.
At the last moment, however, Madame Adelina Patti came to the rescue, and, reducing her terms it is said by nearly one- half, consented to save the entertainment of which she has been the most distinguished ornament for the last quarter of a century. She had received in America £800 a night for the season of 1884, and £1,000 the previous season. With the view, however, of preventing an absolute breach of continuity in the series of Italian operatic representations which, since the early part of the last century, London had never been without, she consented to sing for £500 a night. That this fee, absolutely considered, is a large one, cannot well be denied. It is said to represent a full half of the entire nightly expenses at the Royal Italian Opera as now conducted. Italian Opera has of late years been gradually dwindling away, until now little of it except Patti and Nilsson seems to remain. A numerous repertory of operas still exists, which, however, can only be animated by the genius of <n-eat singers ; or, in default of a company of great singers, then, as regards the principal part, by one.
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London of To-day.
On the important question of salaries paid to the reigning queens of song, Madame Christine Nilsson has given it as her opinion that, all tilings considered, they are hardly overpaid. Such song-birds are exceedingly rare. " You can count all the soprani of the first line on the fingers of one hand. Now, take our kindred artist, the painter. He is not such a rare bird as a soprano. If he is really good, and paints portraits in London or Paris, he makes from £10,000 to £20,000 a year. He is not only not rare — he is numerous. Take, for illustration, your Millais, Holl, Leighton, Herkomer, Ouless, in London; and Meissonnier, Carolus Duran, and Cabanel, not to mention poor Bastien- Lepage, in Paris, as well as Sargent and several more. . . . " We singers are rare ; we are competed for, and, according
to the law of supply and de- mand, fetch a high price, as would a fairly handsome dia- mond. Such a one as is worth three or four hundred pounds now, if there were only four or five in the world, would fetch twenty, thirty t ho usand — what you will. . . .
" The voice of the singer is not a permanent gift ; she cannot go on singing in her dotage as a painter can paint. Sans de- raisonner, the working life of the artist on canvas is fully twice
WF. SING tils AUK K.lItE
English Opera. 115
as long as that of the singer, whose voice or general health may break down at any moment, and who is exposed to risks in hurrying from one engagement to another, from which the painter is entirely free. But the life of a singer is made up of hard work, care, and self-denial — so far as I know — the absolute conditions of achieving and sustaining a high professional re- putation. The ■prima donna lives, as it were, in a glass-case."
Of late years the Carl Rosa Opera Company has given a season of "Opera in English" in London, sometimes at Her Majesty's Theatre, sometimes at Drury Lane, which have been unusually successful. The long-continued co-operation of the same artists, and the care taken in rehearsal and preparation, with the ex- cellence of the orchestra and the chorus, have combined to render these performances memorable in Operatic annals. Mr. Rosa's efforts to establish an era in English opera, not only by worthy representations, but also by the production of original works by native composers, have, so far, been attended with signal success, a result which appears likely to continue to reward efforts that are eminently deserving. Besides English adaptations of im- portant foreign works, several new operas have been commissioned by Mr. Rosa from composers of British nationality. The most recent novelties have been the productions, respectively, of natives of Scotland, Ireland, and England ; Mr. A. C. Mackenzie's " Co- lomba" having been brought out by Mr. Rosa at Drury Lane Theatre in 1883 •, Mr. C. V. Stanford's "Canterbury Pilgrims," in the same locality, in the following year; Mr. Goring Thomas having contributed "Esmeralda," in 1883, and " Xadeshda " in 1885. The last-named work proved especially successful.
Another specialty, and another success recently associated with Mr. Rosa's management, was the production of an English version of M. Massenet's " Manon," the original of which was first brought out at Paris in the early part of 1884. The season of 1887 begins May 2 at Drury Lane, and the chief novelty pro- mised is Mr. Corder's new opera "Nordisa" (the libretto based on " La Bergere des Alpes ").
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London of To-day.
Chapter XII. MUSIC.
MUSIC, like every other class of entertainment in England, centres in London, where there are a surprising number of regular performances during the year, generally well patronized
by students and admirers of the art. Such are the concerts of the old - established Philharmonic and Sacred Harmonic Societies; the ora- torios and other special perfor- mances at the Royal Albert Hall and Crystal Pa- lace ; the world- renowned " popu- lar " classic con- certs given throughout the winter, from Oc- tober to March ; the weekly " bal- lad" concerts of Mr. Boosey ; the admirable series of Saturday afternoon concerts at the Crystal Palace, at which the best classical and popular
RICHTER.
Music.
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A FAVOURITE.
music is heard ; the excellent Richter concerts at St. James's Hall ; the Floral Hall performances, under direction of the
management of the Royal Italian Opera; the course of pianoforte recitals, to which the genius of Van Biilow, Charles Halle, and others give character ; the concerts of Mr. Henx-y Leslie's choir and of the London Musical Society ; Royal Aca- demy of Music, and Royal Society of Musicians ; the Promenade Concerts at Covent Garden Theatre ; and finally the crowd of lesser meetings at which the best music may be heard — all (with ^ one or two exceptions) filling the London winter and spring. In general the most noteworthy musical performances are those which are given at that period of the year. The daily news- papers make note of all that is transpiring in the musical world ; failing these, the visitor will do well to seek information at Mr. Austin's office, St. James's Hall, where he will be sure to meet with courteous attention.
Following are notes of some of the more important Concerts given in Lon- don at stated periods of the year, any of which will be found highly interesting to those who appreciate good music.
The Monday Popular Concerts, held weekly at St. James's Hall, under direc- /- tion of Mr. S. Arthur Chappell, begin- ning in October of each year, and ending in the following March.
The Saturday Popular Concerts, also held at St. James's Hall under the same direction, beginning in November and extending through the same period.
ANOTHER FAVOURITE.
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London of To-day.
The London Ballad Concerts, under direction of Mr. John Boosey, weekly, at St. James's Hall, beginning in the last week of November, and ending in March following.
The Crystal Palace Concerts, held at the Crystal Palace, Syden- ham, weekly, under direction of Mr. August. Manns, on each succes- sive Saturday during the winter season, and also in the summer sea- son, beginningin February, and continuing till the first week in June. The Philharmonic Society's Concei'ts, six in number, under the conductorship of Sir Arthur Sullivan, at St. James's Hall, at stated intervals during the months of March, April, May, and June. Among the possible performers are Mesdames Fricken- haus, Norman-Neruda, Schumann, Menter, Herr Rubenstein, and Signor Piatti.
The Sacred Harmonic Society's series of Concerts, at St. James's Hall, on advertised dates, in November, December, January, February, March, and May.
The Albert Hall Choral Society's series of Concerts at the Royal Albert Hall, South Kensington, in January, Feb- ruary, March, and April; and those of the Royal Amateur Orchestral Society's at the same place in December. March, and May.
The Richter Concerts at St. James's Hall in May, June and July.
The London Musical So- ciety generally gives two concerts — one in March and the other in
June.
The Roval Academy of Music gives concerts at St. James's Hall in February, March, April, May, June, and July.
AN AMATEUR.
Music.
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The concerts given by Mr. Henry Leslie's choir are entitled to more than passing notice as among the more interesting events of the summer musical season. This choir was formed more than a quarter of a century ago, and soon became a specialty among London musical performances by the admirable rendering of vocal part-music realized by skilful training and con- stant prac- tice. The results, in- deed, were such as Avere worthy comparison with those which had previously rendered the Berlin Dom- chor and the Colo gn e choir fa- mous. Mr.
Leslie's choristers originally num- bered only between thirty and forty members. These, however, were soon largely reinforced, and the choir gradually came to com- prise between two and three hundred voices. Their refined execution of unaccompanied part-music, sacred and secular — cantatas, anthems, psalms, madrigals, glees, and part-songs, &c. — has been often the theme of eulogistic comment, and the disso- lution of the choir some five years ago was consequently a source of widespread regret. It was, however, soon afterwards re- organized, with Mr. Randegger, vice Mr. Leslie, as conductor, this gentleman having retired from all but a general direction of
RETURNING THANKS.
120 London of To-day.
the arrangements. Mr. Leslie's resumption of the oflice of con- ductor and the continuance of the concerts are matters for congratulation on the part of all who can appreciate the oppor- tunity of hearing a certain class of music rendered in a style that has never been surpassed and has rarely been equalled.
Mention may properly be made here of the musical evenings of Mr. Henschel and of Mr. Dannreuther ; of the Novello Oratorio Concerts ; of the recitals at St. James's Hall of Madlle. Klee- berg ; of Mr. W. G. Cusins' annual concert at the same place; of the Bach Choir's and Signor Sarasate's series of concerts in May and June ; and the concerts of the Royal College and the Guildhall School of Music.
Two or three years ago, in order to raise some money for a charity, Viscountess Folkestone organized an orchestra of ladies more or less well known in society. The affair has since grown, and Lady Folkestone's band bids fair to become a permanent institution. At present the orchestra is limited to a string band, comprising fourteen first and a similar number of second violins, eio-ht violas, and eight violoncellos. Some of the best families are represented in this orchestra. " A glance at the list reveals such names as Bouverie, OH pliant, Lytton, Dairy mple Hay, De Grey, Curzon, and many others. Girls of almost every type of beauty are there, clad uniformly in white frocks relieved by shoulder knots, some of pale blue and others of salmon colour. No Adam is allowed to invade this orchestral Eden. It is true that when a choir is employed black coats are permitted to form a sort of background to the picture. The ladies are also graciously pleased to admit the sterner (and lower) sex as soloists. But the members of the band are women to an indi- vidual. Even the chef d'orchestre is a lady. Lady Folkestone stands to her work as Richter does. She taps the desk with her ivory and silver mounted baton, her beat is broad and distinct, and she gives the 'points' with professional care ; all 'just like a man.
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The Theaties.
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Chapter XIII.
THE THEATRES.
ONDOIST has no lack of Theatres ; indeed, no city has so many. It is surprising how the majority of them in some seasons contrive to subsist. To fill all the London theatres nightly would require an aggregate of some 80,000 persons. Probably not a tenth part of them do fill nightly, a condition of things which, though adverse to the interests of managers and
lessees, is a gain one way, inasmuch as it secures greater vai-iety and com- fort to the play-going pub-