A gentleman who was considered a fixture in this box was Mr. Hammond, a Coventry manufacturer, who evening after evening, for nearly forty-five years, was always to be found in the same place, and during the entire period was well known for his severe and often able comments on the events of the day. Here he pontificated throughout the days of Wilkes, of the American War, and of the French War, and, being on the side of liberty, was constantly in opposition to almost everyone else.
The Chapter continued to be a coffee-house up to 1854, when it became a tavern.
The Royal Exchange was the resort of all the trading part of the City, foreign and domestic, from half an hour after one till near three in the afternoon; but the better sort generally met in the Exchange Alley a little before, at three celebrated coffee-houses called Garraway’s, Robin’s, and Jonathan’s. In the first the people of quality who had business in the City, and the most considerable and wealthy citizens, congregated. In the third met buyers and sellers of stock.
The Royal Exchange Coffee-house resembled a gaming-house more than anything else, being full of gamesters, with the same sharp, intent looks, with the difference only that there it was selling of Bank stock, East India, South Sea, and lottery tickets, instead of the cards and dice dear to ordinary gamblers.
The British Coffee-house in the West End was much frequented by Scotchmen, whilst a mixture of all sorts went to the Smyrna, not very far away. There were other little coffee-houses much frequented in this neighbourhood—Young Man’s for officers, Old Man’s for stockjobbers, paymasters, and courtiers, and Little Man’s for sharpers. Here there were two or three faro tables upstairs.
After the theatre fashionable men went to Tom’s and Will’s Coffee-houses, where they played piquet and indulged in conversation. Here you might see blue and green ribbons and stars sitting familiarly with private gentlemen, and talking with the same freedom as if they had left their quality and degrees of distance at home—a sight which amazed foreigners not used to the liberty of speech permitted in England.
A favourite resort of literary men was the Percy Coffee-house in Rathbone Place, Oxford Street. This was used by Thomas Byerley and Joseph Robertson, who together produced the “Percy Anecdotes” in 1820, writing as Sholto and Reuben Percy. A large sum was realized by the work in question, which began in 1820 and ran into forty-four parts.
The West End coffee-houses were often disturbed by the eccentricities of the “bloods.” A wild band, for instance, frequented the Royal Chocolate-house in St. James’s Street, where on one occasion a dispute at hazard produced a quarrel, which became general throughout the room; and, as they fought with their swords, three gentlemen were mortally wounded. The affray was at length ended by the interposition of the Royal Guards, who were compelled to knock the parties down indiscriminately with the butt-ends of their muskets, as entreaties and commands were of no avail. On this occasion a footman of Colonel Cunningham’s, greatly attached to his master, rushed through the swords, seized and literally carried him out by force without injury.
Lord Camelford, of duelling notoriety, one evening entered the Prince of Wales Coffee-house, Conduit Street, and, as was his usual custom, sat down and began to read the papers. A dashing fellow, and in his own opinion a first-rate blood, happening to come in, threw himself on the opposite seat of the same box, and, in a consequential tone, bawled: “Waiter! bring me a pint of madeira and a couple of wax candles, and put them in the next box.” He then drew over to himself Lord Camelford’s candles, and began to read, which proceeding merely caused his lordship to look indignant, whilst he continued reading his paper. The waiter soon reappeared, and announced the completion of the gentleman’s commands, who immediately lounged round to his own box. Lord Camelford, having now finished his paragraph, called out, in a mimicking tone: “Waiter! bring me a pair of snuffers.” These being quickly brought, his lordship laid down his paper, walked round the table at which the “blood” sat, snuffed out both the candles, and retired to his seat. Boiling with rage and fury, the indignant beau roared out: “Waiter, waiter! who the devil is this fellow that dares to insult a gentleman? What is he? What do they call him?” “Lord Camelford, sir,” replied the other in a tone scarcely audible. The coxcomb, horror-struck at the name of the dangerous nobleman, said tremblingly, “What have I to pay?” and, on being told, quietly laid down his money and sneaked away, leaving his madeira untasted.
Disturbances were frequently caused in coffee-houses by dashing bucks who attempted either to dominate or to upset the domination of others. At the west end of Cecil Court, in St. Martin’s Lane, there existed, towards the end of the reign of George II, Pon’s Coffee-house, much frequented by foreigners of distinction, officers, and men about town. In the course of time the foreigners began to dominate this place, always contriving to get one of themselves into the chair, and occupying special seats which were kept for them alone. This created much ill-feeling, and at length reached the ears of the celebrated Lord Tyrawley, at that time a gay spark about town. Discussing the foreign ascendancy which prevailed in this place, Lord Tyrawley said, in his vigorous way: “It is all your own fault. The Frenchmen see you are afraid of them, and therefore behave with insolence. I am sure they are cowards, and if I was in the company I would undertake to insult the lot with impunity, and leave the room without being questioned or prevented by any one of them.” This led to a conversation, which ended in a bet that Lord Tyrawley would carry his threat into execution, and on an appointed day he proceeded to action.