GENTLEMEN'S CLUBS: London's Finest (11)

This piece is about Gentlemen’s Clubs in London, those highly respectable havens for men of relatively exalted social position enabling them to escape from their wives and savour the company of like-minded and civilised members. They are a world away from the other kind of London clubs offering lap-dancing or worse or which are poised to fleece you as you gamble away your birth-right at the roulette wheel. My knowledge of London Gentleman’s Clubs is far from comprehensive as I am currently a member of none but have benefitted from the kindness and hospitality of friends who are. Gentlemen’s clubs are probably an anachronism as wives become even more assertive and hen-pecked husbands surrender to uxorious blandishments. I suspect these institutions will disappear in a generation so enjoy their manifold charms while you can and wangle an invitation!

There is a concentration of clubs around Pall Mall and St James’s Street. The oldest (late 17^th century) is probably exclusive White’s, down whose steps a hooligan member kicked Labour’s Nye Bevan in 1951 after he had remarked that “Tories are vermin”. The member was naturally obliged to resign as Bevan was a guest at the club. David Cameron resigned too in his politically correct way in protest against the continuing refusal to admit women, even though his father had been club chairman. Nearby is Boodles in whose informal Undress Room, I attended board meetings – our well-connected brewer chairman was a keen member. Across the road is Brooks’s, originally a Whig stronghold, where once Charles James Fox drank and gambled although William Pitt the Younger was also a member.  Half of Lord Melbourne’s cabinet in the 1830s were members at Brooks’s. The club was once thought rather dreary “like a Duke’s house, with the Duke lying dead upstairs” but it is now very civilised in its elegant Henry Holland building.

Brooks's Club

A little further down St James’s Street is that bastion of the traditional Tory party The Carlton Club where a famous Party meeting in 1922 saw the Tories destroy Lloyd George’s coalition ministry. The Carlton has convivial bars but the highlight is the painted portrait of wonderful Margaret Thatcher, an Honorary Member, before whose portrait on the main staircase it is appropriate to genuflect or at least blow a kiss!

Wellington Room at the Carlton Club

 Two renowned Clubs are adjacent on Pall Mall, The Reform and The Travellers. The Reform Club is a majestic Italianate palazzo by Charles Barry in 1841 with a spectacular atrium beyond the entrance hall. It was founded in the 1830s as a place for those who approved of the 1832 Reform Act and later supported the campaigns of Cobden and Bright to repeal the Corn Laws and improve “the condition of the people”. It became a Liberal stronghold before party splits in the 1880s but it remains progressive in spirit – one of the first to admit women to membership. The Reform was the venue for a spectacular fencing duel between James Bond and Gustav Graves in Die Another Day (2002).

The Reform (left) and The Travellers (right)

The Travellers was founded before The Reform and was by the same architect Charles Barry. It was first intended for wandering diplomats and members are still supposed to have visited at least 4 other countries. It is not quite as progressive as The Reform – the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, recently resigned after the members failed to change its rules to admit ladies. The Travellers has a fine Library, beautiful coffee rooms and a particularly attractive back garden.

Also on Pall Mall is the splendid Athenaeum by Decimus Burton commissioned when he was only 24 in 1824, with a copy of the Elgin Marbles frieze over the portal. Its leading light was the formidably reactionary critic John Wilson Croker. The club’s spirit is intellectual and it is well-known as a haven for bishops, writers, academics and engineers – Michael Faraday was an early member and Dickens and Thackeray were reconciled there after a long and bitter quarrel. Few politicians or businessmen darken its doors although in the 1920s rumbustious Tory F E Smith, Lord Birkenhead, not a member, regularly relieved himself in the basement lavatory of the Athenaeum. When challenged at last by the Club Secretary he enquired, all innocence, “Oh, is this place a gentlemen’s club too?”

The splendid Athenaeum Club

I have only written of a few of the clubs. Perhaps the most well-equipped is the Royal Automobile in Pall Mall with lavish facilities and an imposing exterior. The acting and literary cliques are well served by The Garrick and The Savile and they can dine in a bohemian ambiance at The Beefsteak. I attended a delightful wedding reception at The National Liberal Club presided over by a large bust of Mr Gladstone and there is no better place to celebrate Burns Night soon on 25 January than with nostalgic fellow- Scotsmen at The Caledonian Club in Belgravia.

While the great days of clubs have passed, some of their spirit was well-captured by PG Wodehouse with his portrayal of the fictional Drones, patronised by Bertie Wooster and his friends Pongo Twistleton, Tuppy Glossop, Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright and Oofy Prosser with the ladies catered for at the Junior Lipstick, haunt of red-headed and anarchic Bobby Wickham. Today’s Clubs are more serious and are the delightful epitome of London’s gentle civilisation.

SMD

19.01.15

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2015

HAM HOUSE and REGENT'S PARK: London's Finest (10)

[This is the tenth in a series describing some of the most interesting and attractive places in London]

There are several handsome country houses now in the suburbs of London, which were more remote when they were built. One such is Ham House at Richmond, a rare survival of the Stuart style – only Sudbury Hall in Derbyshire is comparable. The English love of gardens and genius for laying out parks is well illustrated by my second site, Regent’s Park in Central London, providing with Hyde Park, Green Park, St James’s Park and Kensington Gardens, the “lungs” of London allowing Londoners to breathe clean air, escape from the hubbub and enjoy some tranquillity.

Ham House, Garden Side

Ham House, Ham, Richmond is a country house tucked away on the south bank of the River Thames built in 1610 and extended in the 1670s under the architect William Samwell. It was initially designed for James I’s eldest son Frederick, Prince of Wales, but he died in 1618 before succeeding. It was acquired by William Murray, 1^st Earl of Dysart In 1626; he and his wife Catherine embellished the house substantially.  Royalist William in time went into exile but Catherine held on to the house during the Civil War; her trustee was the staunchly Scots Presbyterian and parliamentarian Lord Elgin. The house was almost lost but her daughter Elizabeth married rich Lionel Tollemache and was able to buy it back from Parliament. After Lionel died in 1668, Elizabeth married John Maitland, 1^st Duke of Lauderdale, a prominent Restoration courtier and they lived in high style at Ham.

The Picture Gallery at Ham

Lauderdale was a member of the unadmired CABAL, (Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashley and Lauderdale) which ran Charles II’s government from 1667-73. Lauderdale was the autocratic ruler of Scotland: his daughter married the 1st Duke of Argyll and 2 further Dukes were born at Ham. On Lauderdale’s death in 1680 Ham House reverted to his widow’s family, the Tollemaches, and 9 Earls of Dysart occupied the house until 1935, although the house did become dilapidated for a period in the late 19th century. The last, rich, if blind, Earl had a staff of 20 and left £4.8m in 1935. The National Trust (in the persuasive form of James Lees Milne) engineered the donation of the house to the nation in 1948.

Unlike more familiar baroque or classical stately homes, Ham is darker – much wood panelling and carved oak staircases. There are splendid Mortlake tapestries and portraits by Lely and Kneller. The front garden has a striking Coade stone figure of Father Thames on a fountain and the gardens are not in the English landscape style but instead rather formal, which would delight the eye of a Louis XIV.

Queen's Bedroom and Tapestries at Ham

The Cherry Garden at Ham

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Regent’s Park in Central London formed part of a grand town planning scheme of John Nash in 1811. He originally proposed a park containing a palace for the Prince Regent, later George IV, with some fine mansions within the park, surrounded by classic stuccoed terraces on the South and West sides. Leaving via Park Crescent, an avenue in the same style would eventually morph into Regent Street and end at the grand edifice of Carlton House. The palace in the Park was dropped and the scheme reduced but much survives enhancing the beauty of the area. In particular the Ionic Nash terraces surrounding the Park provide fine offices and lovely residences for the affluent.

Cumberland Terrace, Regent's Park

           

                                    

Boating and relaxing at Regent's Park

The sylvan setting (410 acres) is a delight in Central London and in the summer hundreds sun themselves on deck chairs or picnic by the lake. For the more energetic there are tennis courts, cycling areas and games pitches. The Regent’s Park Zoo, wholly independent of the taxpayer, has a bumpy ride as public opinion has moved against animal captivity; elephants, rhinos and polar bears have been moved to more spacious Whipsnade Zoo in Bedfordshire. In its prime in 1950, 3m visited to see the polar bear cub, Brumas. The Open Air Theatre is a magical setting for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream on a balmy evening, but 2015 will see a varied programme including The Seagull, 7 Brides for 7 Brothers, Lord of the Flies and Peter Pan.

The magical Open Air Theatre

My wife and I have simple pleasures. We walk in from York Gate and stroll to one of the cafes. We feed the importunate geese and ducks with surplus bread and the inquisitive squirrels with monkey-nuts, all giving us much innocent joy.

Friendly geese

A welcoming squirrel

 

SMD

13.11.14

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2014

SOME LONDON PUBS: London's Finest (12)

 As usual the great Dr Johnson hit the nail on the head:

 Sir; there is nothing which has yet been contrived by man by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.

In my 72 years, many days have been spent in a variety of pubs; I do not regard any part of this time as misspent. Pubs are incomparable meeting places to relax convivially with family or friends, to loosen up with a pint or two of beer after a heavy day and to shoo away the cares of the world. 

Let me first celebrate a handful of London pubs I have enjoyed.  Following in the steps of Dr Johnson I enter Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, 145 Fleet Street, a few paces from his house in Gough Square where he laboured on his Dictionary. The pub is dark but atmospheric and the clientele are a mixture of tourists on a pilgrimage and local office workers. No lexicographers or newspapermen these days!

Johnson's Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese

The City in my time was the venue for some serious drinking and, working in Cornhill, we tumbled out of the office and rushed to the historic Jamaica Inn, St Michael’s Alley, EC3 (aka The Jampot) and slaked our thirst in unbuttoned fashion.

The Jamaica

A few steps further took you to Mr Pickwick’s George and Vulture where, if you were flush, you had a traditional lunch of mixed grill with bubble and squeak washed down by a pint of bitter in a pewter pot supplemented by biscuits and napkin-wrapped Stilton and a sinful glass of port. Ecstasy!

Upstairs dining at The George and Vulture

 Now City drinking is often done in poncey wine-bars, usually converted bank branches with high ceilings and higher prices. I prefer the old-style pubs, sometimes with sawdust on the floor. I still have reunions with my old friends and colleagues at just such an establishment Bangers in Wilson Street, EC2.

Bangers in the City

Overflowing jugs of bitter are conjured up, delicious sandwiches and vol-au-vents served, while we joke and reminisce about earlier times. Long may we do so, until we finally croak.

The West End has dozens of decent neighbourhood pubs but many of the central pubs are aimed at the casual visitor. I enjoy the Victorian survivals like The Salisbury, 90, St Martins Lane WC2, with etched glass frontage, polished mahogany fittings and excellent cask ale. The Salisbury has a fair sprinkling of gay Thespian customers who add to its Bohemian atmosphere.

The Salisbury, Theatreland

Staying with Central London I also appreciate the straight-forward merits of The Gunmakers, Aybrook Street, W1, parallel to much visited Marylebone High Street, an oasis of normality where I can sink a pint or two, read my newspaper and watch some football or rugby on the TV screens, agog with the fluctuating fortunes of Arsenal or Scotland.

My introduction to London pubs dates from my Oxford undergraduate days over 50 years ago. Maybe 5 or 6 of us would descend on London and we would often follow a pub route North. Our first stop was the long-established Sir Richard Steele in Chalk Farm at the bottom of Haverstock Hill. I cannot remember the particular attraction (maybe there was a pretty barmaid) but it is still going strong and pulling in the punters. We then moved up to Hampstead High Street and The King of Bohemia, a cosy establishment with comfortable leather upholstered bay window seating. But just look at what has happened! Like hundreds of other pubs it was sold (in 2003) and redeveloped and is now a retail outlet, lost forever to the drinking classes, a sad fate indeed.

Once The King of Bohemia

Our final undergraduate destination was The Spaniards, Spaniards Road, NW3, long an institution and linked to legendary 18^th century highwayman Dick Turpin, bordering lovely Hampstead Heath. Its large beer garden was a powerful attraction. The interior is oaken and traditional: in winter a welcoming blazing log fire warms you up. We used to eat single hot sausages but now the menu is much grander, far beyond undergraduate pockets. When I lived nearby for over 25 years, we walked with the children from the Heath Extension through Sandy Wood and ate snacks in the sunny garden. The children loved the collection of caged canaries and budgies, now all gone. The Spaniards is the kind of pub where you strike up conversations with complete strangers in the agreeably civilised English way. It is an unrivalled amenity for the affluent burghers of Hampstead and Highgate.

The beer garden at The Spaniards

My last pub is only just in London in the Mansion Tax environs of Totteridge. Deep in wooded splendour with its pond and outside seating stands The Orange Tree, Totteridge Village, N20 much patronised by the locals but also a destination gastro-pub, serving oysters, fresh fish, Sunday roasts and such luxuries.

The Orange Tree, Totteridge

This spacious pub is a venue for reunions, family outings and peaceful summer imbibing.

I hope this piece, skimming through a personal selection of pubs, introduces to some and reminds others of the gentle pleasures of pub-going.

SMD

7.11.14

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2014