The club continued to be quite delightful until a number of the "crutch and toothpick" element joined to watch the well-known "actor chaps," as they called them, and with their entrance the club lost all its charm and pleasant Bohemianism. Irving, among others, became aware of the observing eye of these inquisitive youths, and discontinued going to the club; others followed by degrees, and gradually the club lost its popularity.

The idea of the Lyric Club, of which I was elected an honorary member, was suggested by a small and defunct Bohemian club of that name. It was opened on far more ambitious lines, however, having for its chairman the distinguished sportsman and patron of the drama, Lord Londesborough, who was well supported by a representative committee.

All went well for some time, and the entertainments, for which a s.p.a.cious theatre had been erected, were splendidly managed by Luther Munday.

On the opening night there was a reception that went with a flourish of trumpets, and shortly after Lord Londesborough gave a dinner at which I sat next to Irving. Irving naturally gave life to the affair, and I can remember a cigar that he gave me--I think the largest and best I ever smoked.

These occasions were followed up by regular receptions when theatrical performances frequently attracted the members. "The divine Sarah,"

Marie Tempest, Hollmann, and such geniuses brought large audiences, and frequently these evenings were varied with the Guards' Band.

Everything was done, in fact, to make the club a success.

Now there was another idea, which, I conclude, emanated from the more sporting members of the committee. It was, to take a branch club at Barnes, where there was a handsome and suitable house and grounds well adapted for the purpose. The place at last decided upon was not only well adapted for cricket, lawn tennis, and other out-of-door games, but, being so near London, was of easy access. The terrace facing the river was also a capital place from which to see the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race, and a steamer from Westminster was hired to take the members down. Naturally, perhaps, the most crowded meeting held there was on the occasion of a final in the Army and Navy football match, when many distinguished visitors were present.

As with the Orleans Club, Twickenham, this club was but a flash in the pan. There came a day when it could no longer be kept up, and so it was with that in Coventry Street (or Piccadilly East, as it was called). Both branches of the Lyric Club, in fact, came suddenly to grief, owing to a great misfortune which it is better not to recall.

First of all held on Sunday nights at the Grosvenor Galleries, the Gallery Club was quite a place to belong to, and for some time was decidedly select in its members. It was also at the time quite a novelty, the best of music being heard and the best of musicians giving their services. The same may be said of the entertainers, and their entertainments. Smoke and talk prevailed during the intervals, and so the evenings pa.s.sed off cheerily.

When these Galleries of the "Greenery Yallery" period closed their doors, we removed to the rooms of the Inst.i.tute of Painters in Water Colours where the receptions were held. I forgot here to mention that occasional Sunday nights were graced by the presence of lady guests.

Paderewski played on one of these occasions to a crowded and very appreciative audience.

Later on we found our home at the Grafton Galleries, in which suppers were also given, and many a pleasant Sunday evening was spent there.

Like every club of the kind, however, it had its day. Perhaps it may have been the difficulty of finding variety among the entertainers or a want of funds to procure the best; but, whatever the reason, there was obviously a falling off of the original members, and the Gallery Club came to an end. Even so, it had been responsible for many evenings that are well worth remembering.

I shall never forget one night at the Grosvenor Gallery when Corney Grain and George Grossmith sat down at the piano together and sang and played the fool. They were then at their very best, and I think that was the night that Weedon and his brother gave their humorous skit on the extraction of teeth. The t.i.tle I cannot recall; but the performance was so clever that the t.i.tle doesn't matter.

In later days I joined the Punch Bowl Club, which was organized by a very good fellow named Mr. Percy Wood. He was a man of education and a thorough Bohemian: he had received a partial, but very incomplete, training as a sculptor; but he disliked work, and in the summer time led an idler's life. He would dress himself in old clothes, and go round the country hawking, like a common pedlar. He seemed to consider life under such conditions perfection; and yet he was always a gentleman (if one may use the much misused term), and everybody liked him. He was at one time engaged on a statue of the Prince of Wales, who arranged to call at Mr. Wood's studio. Whether his Royal Highness expected a distinguished company to meet him, or whether Mr.

Wood intended to receive his Royal Highness in such a way, I am unable to say, but the Prince arrived to find a "gentleman in possession" at the studio, and Mr. Wood's visitors' book that day must have shown quite unprecedented signatures.

[Ill.u.s.tration: C. BIRCH CRISP.

_Published in "Mayfair."_ 1911.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLIVER LOCKER LAMPSON, M.P.

_Published in "Mayfair."_ 1911.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: WEEDON GROSSMITH.

1905.]

Our friend started the Punch Bowl Club (he had always been inspired with the great idea of a real Bohemian Club) in Regent Street, and one met a variety of good fellows and plenty of clever entertainers. One of the foremost members was Mostyn Piggott, who was quite a leading light. Raven Hill was very popular also. Our club room was situated on the uppermost storey of a house of which the foundation must have been rather "d.i.c.ky," for one evening it descended into another, and when we arrived, we found our room wrecked beyond recall. After this avalanche, he started new premises over a motor establishment leading out of Oxford Street. Here we had very s.p.a.cious and very originally decorated rooms, which were hung with a great number of Indian trophies, for Wood was an Indian chief, and rejoiced in the t.i.tle of _Rah--Rih--Wah--Casda of the Six Nations Indians_--an honour bestowed, I believe, only on two or three other Europeans, the Prince of Wales (King Edward VII.) and the Duke of Connaught being the foremost chiefs.

Sometimes he appeared dressed in his war paint, as an Indian chief, at the large meetings which he delighted in organizing, when he brewed the punch, while other members, dressed in the character, gave their services as cook and waiters.

The club was run on somewhat similar lines to the Savage Club, and we addressed each other as "Brother So-and-So."

These dinners were very successful until Wood's health gave way, for they ended at a very late hour, and he never went home, preferring to sit up all night. After his death the club's popularity waned; the organizing personality that had previously supported it being absent, amus.e.m.e.nts fell through, but before the end we had some very pleasant evenings entertaining distinguished guests.

I was once persuaded to take the chair on the occasion of the visit of the Lord Chief Justice, and when, with every good intention, I rose to propose the usual toasts, to thank the Lord Chief Justice for his presence that evening, and to extol his good qualities, I almost forgot whether he was Lord Chief Justice or the Archbishop of Canterbury. However, I managed to struggle through, and with admirable prompt.i.tude the guest of the evening replied with real humour and relieved me of some part of my duty. At the end of the evening, Percy Wood came up to me and thanked me for so ably taking the chair, and when I apologized for what I considered my inability adequately to fill the post, he congratulated me, whereupon an artist who was standing by, said, "What! That a good speech! It was awful rot!"

It was a singular coincidence that on this and the following occasions when our guest was the Bishop of London, both men were total abstainers, while we indulged in our toasts from the punch bowl. I made a silhouette beforehand of the Bishop leaning forward as though to make a speech, which appeared on the menu.

[Ill.u.s.tration: W. S. GILBERT AND MSLLE. ROSA.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: TOM KNOX HOLMES.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Played first at the Gaiety Theatre where the profits, 600, were handed over by the Amateur Company to the Central Theatrical Fund._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPTAIN GOOCH. QUENTIN TWISS. ELEANOR BUFTON. LYDIA THOMPSON.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MYSELF. A. STUART WORTLEY. J. MACLEAN.]

Of the many well-known clubs I remember, I went to the Anglo-American Club, where I was invited to meet Oliver Wendell Holmes. At the time I was particularly requested to make a drawing of him for _Vanity Fair_.

I was introduced to him, amongst others, and was particularly impressed by his kindly features; the first peculiarity my eye lit upon was the prominent eyebrows. Crowds of listening people surrounded him while he talked, and the opportunity of watching my subject unnoticed at such close quarters, was a splendid one, and from my observations I made one of the best caricatures that I have ever done from memory.

When I look back it gives me great pleasure to think of the jolly days and nights when, in March, 1878, many old friends met together for the purpose of rehearsing for the unique _Amateur Pantomime_ given at the Gaiety Theatre and afterwards at Brighton. Edward Terry, Kate Vaughan, Nellie Farren, Amalia and Royce were then in their zenith, and John Hollingshead was manager of the Gaiety; and it was after this performance that we gathered for the night rehearsal.

The idea was originated by Archibald Stuart Wortley and William Yardley, and nothing could exceed their energy in promoting it. I won't say that such a thing had never been thought of before; as a similar entertainment by amateurs had taken place many years previously, in which Mr. Tom Knox Holmes had played the same part of pantaloon. I believe, however, that that performance was not carried out on the same scale.

Looking down the list of our theatrical company, I am reminded sadly of the few members of it that remain, although, of the four authors who contributed to its success, it is gratifying to know that Sir Francis Burnand is hale and hearty.

It is interesting to recollect how conscientiously W. S. Gilbert learnt his steps as the harlequin, how marvellously old Knox Holmes (who was well over seventy) played the pantaloon, and what a perfect clown Yardley made. "Odger" Colvile (afterwards the unfortunate General Sir Henry Colvile) was marvellous in his leaps and bounds. All this was the result of real hard work, and these men in the harlequinade gave the whole of their mind to it as though it were a matter of life and death. I mustn't forget either in this act that Fred McCalmont, Lord de Clifford, and Algy b.a.s.t.a.r.d equally distinguished themselves.

Perhaps it is because the harlequinade required more rehearsing than the pantomime burlesque itself (written by Reece, F. C. Burnand, H. J.

Byron, and W. S. Gilbert) that I mention it first; but, of course, Captain Gooch, Quintin Twiss, Archie Stuart Wortley, I. Maclean, and those who took prominent parts, were as good in their different ways; in fact, some of them were already distinguished amateur actors. The dancing of Ashby Sterry and Johnny Giffard I shall never forget: it was too funny to be described.

I delighted in the various characters selected for me to play, and when, as the "lightning artist," I drew Dizzy and Gladstone, I was overwhelmed with applause and boos that resounded in every part of the house from partisans of the two political leaders. So successful; in fact, was this item of the programme, that I received on the following day a genuine offer from a well-known manageress to take a similar part professionally at her theatre (a fact that amused me greatly).

POKER PLAYERS AT THE FIELDING CLUB.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _A bluff._ "JOHNNY" GIFFARD.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ALFRED THOMPSON.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 3 a.m. "This game bores me." CORNEY GRAIN.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "TOM" BIRD. _A bird with a "full" hand is worth two with a flush._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: CORNEY GRAIN AT DATCHET.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PELLEGRINI. "Can't play billiard to-night, my boy, I 'av lumbago. What you recommend to make the ''air grow?'"]

Much of my time was occupied before the curtain was raised in "making up" some of the "Forty Thieves" as prominent people of the day. For instance, Frank Parker's features adapted themselves to Gladstone's in a strikingly useful manner, and in consequence the "make up" was at once recognizable. "Willie" Higgins was Benson the convict, and so on.

At the end of the rehearsals many of us, being members of the Beefsteak Club, adjourned there, and it was not until the early morning that our party sought our respective beds. When I come to think of it, the majority of us were fairly young in those days, so we were all well able to stand the strain.

At one dress rehearsal, a scene representing a soldiers' encampment, where we were seated at mess, and a group of us dressed as officers ate a sham meal, I remember our enthusiasm was added to by the hospitality of an officer in the company who produced real champagne.

Whether the effect lasted until another scene I could never quite remember, but "Odger" Colvile (our young Guardsman, who was very fond of theatricals, and had, I believe, a private theatre at his father's place) displayed wonderful agility in the harlequinade, where, as the policeman, he attacked the proverbial dummy, which at the rehearsal, owing to an oversight, was missing. Looking round in all the excitement of his enthusiasm in the part, he grew exasperated by the delay.

"Where the devil is the dummy?" he cried, and looking round desperately, his eye caught mine; without any warning he was on me, caught me up, and for the next few minutes I saw every imaginable star out of the heavens, he belabouring me with all the ardour which he would have bestowed upon the dummy. He at last let me go, while roars of laughter went up from the others--I would have laughed if I had been able, but I never had such a time in my life, and was obliged to reserve my laughter until I could get my breath, when I laughed as heartily as the others.

The occasion of the Brighton performance was not the less amusing to us, as after it was all over the company met together at supper at the "Old Ship," which included several ladies from the Alhambra ballet, who came down to add to the stage effect.