Volume Ii Part 19 (1/2)
Gifford, in his notes on Ben Jonson, says: ”Heaven and h.e.l.l were two common alehouses, ab.u.t.ting on Westminster Hall. Whalley says that they were standing in his remembrance. They are mentioned together with a third house, called Purgatory, in a grant which I have read, dated in the first year of Henry VII.”
Old Fuller quaintly says of h.e.l.l: ”I could wish it had another name, seeing it is ill jesting with edged tools. I am informed that formerly this place was appointed a prison for the King's debtors, who never were freed thence until they had paid their uttermost due demanded of them. This proverb is since applied to moneys paid into the Exchequer, which thence are irrecoverable, upon what plea or pretence whatever.”
Peacham describes h.e.l.l as a place near Westminster Hall, ”where very good meat is dressed all the term time;” and the Company of Parish Clerks add, it is ”very much frequented by lawyers.” According to Ben Jonson, h.e.l.l appears to have been frequented by lawyers' clerks; for, in his play of the _Alchemist_, Dapper is forbidden
”To break his fast in Heaven or h.e.l.l.”
Hugh Peters, on his Trial, tells us that he went to Westminster to find out some company to dinner with him, and having walked about an hour in Westminster Hall, and meeting none of his friends to dine with him, he went ”to that place called Heaven, and dined there.”
When Pride ”purged” the Parliament, on Dec. 6, 1648, the forty-one he excepted were shut up for the night in the h.e.l.l tavern, kept by a Mr.
Duke (_Carlyle_); and which Dugdale calls ”their great victualling-house near Westminster Hall, where they kept them all night without any beds.”
Pepys, in his _Diary_, thus notes his visit: ”28 Jan. 1659-60. And so I returned and went to Heaven, where Ludlin and I dined.” Six years later, at the time of the Restoration, four days before the King landed, in one of these taverns, Pepys spent the evening with Locke and Purcell, hearing a variety of brave Italian and Spanish songs, and a new canon of Locke's on the words, ”Domine salvum fac Regem.” ”Here, out of the windows,” he says, ”it was a most pleasant sight to see the City, from one end to the other, with a glory about it, so high was the light of the bonfires, and thick round the City, and the bells rang everywhere.”
After all, ”h.e.l.l” may have been so named from its being a prison of the King's debtors, most probably a very bad one: it was also called the Constabulary. Its Wardens.h.i.+p was valued yearly at the sum of 11_s._, and Paradise at 4_l._
Purgatory appears also to have been an ancient prison, the keys of which, attached to a leathern girdle, says Walcot's _Westminster_, are still preserved. Herein were kept the ducking-stools for scolds, who were placed in a chair fastened on an iron pivot to the end of a long pole, which was balanced at the middle upon a high trestle, thus allowing the culprit's body to be _ducked_ in the Thames.
”BELLAMY'S KITCHEN.”
In a pleasantly written book, ent.i.tled _A Career in the Commons_, we find this sketch of the singular apartment, in the vicinity of the (Old) House of Commons called ”the Kitchen.” ”Mr. Bellamy's beer may be unexceptionable, and his chops and steaks may be unrivalled, but the legislators of England delight in eating a dinner in the place where it is cooked, and in the presence of the very fire where the beef hisses and the gravy runs! Bellamy's kitchen seems, in fact, a portion of the British Const.i.tution. A foreigner, be he a Frenchman, American, or Dutchman, if introduced to the 'kitchen,' would stare with astonishment if you told him that in this plain apartment, with its immense fire, meatscreen, gridirons, and a small tub under the window for was.h.i.+ng the gla.s.ses, the statesmen of England very often dine, and men, possessed of wealth untold, and with palaces of their own, in which luxury and splendour are visible in every part, are willing to leave their stately dining-halls and powdered attendants, to be waited upon, while eating a chop in Bellamy's kitchen, by two unpretending old women. Bellamy's kitchen, I repeat, is part and parcel of the British Const.i.tution. Baronets who date from the Conquest, and squires of every degree, care nothing for the una.s.suming character of the 'kitchen,' if the steak be hot and good, if it can be quickly and conveniently dispatched, and the tinkle of the division-bell can be heard while the dinner proceeds. Call England a proud nation, forsooth! Say that the House of Commons is aristocratic!
Both the nation and its representatives must be, and are, unquestionable patterns of republican humility, if all the pomp and circ.u.mstance of dining can be forgotten in Bellamy's kitchen!”[42]
FOOTNOTE:
[42] At the noted Cat and Bagpipes tavern, at the south-west corner of Downing-street, George Rose used to eat his mutton-chop; he subsequently became Secretary to the Treasury.
A COFFEE-HOUSE CANARY-BIRD.
Of ”a great Coffee-house” in Pall Mall we find the following amusing story, in the _Correspondence of Gray and Mason_, edited by Mitford:
”In the year 1688, my Lord Peterborough had a great mind to be well with Lady Sandwich, Mrs. Bonfoy's old friend. There was a woman who kept a great Coffee-house in Pall Mall, and she had a miraculous canary-bird that piped twenty tunes. Lady Sandwich was fond of such things, had heard of and seen the bird. Lord Peterborough came to the woman, and offered her a large sum of money for it; but she was rich, and proud of it, and would not part with it for love or money.
However, he watched the bird narrowly, observed all its marks and features, went and bought just such another, sauntered into the coffee-room, took his opportunity when no one was by, slipped the wrong bird into the cage and the right into his pocket, and went off undiscovered to make my Lady Sandwich happy. This was just about the time of the Revolution; and, a good while after, going into the same coffee-house again, he saw his bird there, and said, 'Well, I reckon you would give your ears now that you had taken my money.' 'Money!'
says the woman, 'no, nor ten times that money now, dear little creature! for, if your lords.h.i.+p will believe me (as I am a Christian, it is true), it has moped and moped, and never once opened its pretty lips since the day that the poor king went away!”
STAR AND GARTER, PALL MALL. FATAL DUEL.
Pall Mall has long been noted for its taverns, as well as for its chocolate- and coffee-houses, and ”houses for clubbing.” They were resorted to by gay n.o.bility and men of estate; and, in times when gaming and drinking were indulged in to frightful excess, these taverns often proved hot-beds of quarrel and fray. One of the most sanguinary duels on record--that between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun--was planned at the Queen's Arms, in Pall Mall, and the Rose in Covent Garden; at the former, Lord Mohun supped with his second on the two nights preceding the fatal conflict in Hyde Park.
Still more closely a.s.sociated with Pall Mall was the fatal duel between Lord Byron and Mr. Chaworth, which was _fought in a room_ of the Star and Garter, when the grand-uncle of the poet Lord killed in a duel, or rather scuffle, his relation and neighbour, ”who was run through the body, and died next day.” The duellists were neighbours in the country, and were members of the Nottinghams.h.i.+re Club, which met at the Star and Garter once a month.
The meeting at which arose the unfortunate dispute that produced the duel, was on the 26th of January, 1765, when were present Mr. John Hewet, who sat as chairman; the Hon. Thomas Willoughby; Frederick Montagu, John Sherwin, Francis Molyneux, Esqrs., and Lord Byron; William Chaworth, George Donston, and Charles Mellish, junior, Esq.; and Sir Robert Burdett; who were all the company. The usual hour of dining was soon after four, and the rule of the Club was to have the bill and a bottle brought in at seven. Till this hour all was jollity and good-humour; but Mr. Hewet, happening to start some conversation about the best method of preserving game, setting the laws for that purpose out of the question, Mr. Chaworth and Lord Byron were of different opinions; Mr. Chaworth insisting on severity against poachers and unqualified persons; and Lord Byron declaring that the way to have most game was to take no care of it at all. Mr. Chaworth, in confirmation of what he had said, insisted that Sir Charles Sedley and himself had more game on five acres than Lord Byron had on all his manors. Lord Byron, in reply, proposed a bet of 100 guineas, but this was not laid. Mr. Chaworth then said, that were it not for Sir Charles Sedley's care, and his own, Lord Byron would not have a hare on his estate; and his Lords.h.i.+p asking with a smile, what Sir Charles Sedley's manors were, was answered by Mr. Chaworth,--Nuttall and Bulwell. Lord Byron did not dispute Nuttall, but added, Bulwell was his; on which Mr. Chaworth, with some heat, replied: ”If you want information as to Sir Charles Sedley's manors, he lives at Mr.
Cooper's, in Dean Street, and, I doubt not, will be ready to give you satisfaction; and, as to myself, your Lords.h.i.+p knows where to find me, in Berkeley Row.”
The subject was now dropped; and little was said, when Mr. Chaworth called to settle the reckoning, in doing which the master of the tavern observed him to be flurried. In a few minutes, Mr. Chaworth having paid the bill, went out, and was followed by Mr. Donston, whom Mr. C. asked if he thought he had been short in what he had said; to which Mr. D. replied, ”No; he had gone rather too far upon so trifling an occasion, but did not believe that Lord Byron or the company would think any more of it.” Mr. Donston then returned to the club-room.
Lord Byron now came out, and found Mr. Chaworth still on the stairs: it is doubtful whether his Lords.h.i.+p called upon Mr. Chaworth, or Mr.
Chaworth called upon Lord Byron; but both went down to the first landing-place--having dined upon the second floor--and both called a waiter to show an empty room, which the waiter did, having first opened the door, and placed a small tallow-candle, which he had in his hand, on the table; he then retired, when the gentlemen entered, and shut the door after them.