The Duke said nothing at the time, except stare with astonishment at so unexpected a lecture; but not a month elapsed before Charles Morris was snugly invested in a beautiful sequestered retreat surrounded by pretty grounds.
Captain Morris lived to the age of ninety-two, dying in July, 1838. He lies in Betchworth Churchyard, near the east end; his grave is simply marked by a head- and foot-stone, with an inscription of three or four lines; he who had sung the praises of so many choice spirits has not here a stanza to his own memory.
As time went on, the old customs and toasts of the Sublime Society became out of date, and, though certain modifications were attempted, it ceased to exist in 1869, when its effects were sold. The following is a list of the most important of them.
An oak dining-table with President’s cap, a mitre and a gridiron carved in three separate circular compartments at the top. This relic of past conviviality is now at White’s Club, having been purchased by the Hon. Algernon Bourke some years ago.
A carved oak President’s chair—now, I believe, at Sandringham—and a number of members’ chairs copied in oak from the Glastonbury Chair, the backs carved with the gridiron and the arms and initials of each member. A few of these chairs belong to a firm of brewers.
Forty-seven engraved portraits of members, glazed in oak frames, on which were metal gridirons. One or two of these are in the possession of the present Beefsteak Club.
Other objets d’art and curiosities were—
The ribbon and badge of the President in the form of a silver gridiron, dated 1735.
Two brown stoneware jugs, with silver lids and mounts, the thumb-pieces gridirons.
A fine couteau de chasse, with engraved and pierced blade, the handle formed of a group of Mars, Venus, and Cupid, in silver, the mounting of the sheath of open-work silver, chased with arabesque figures, scrolls, and flowers. The reputed work of Benvenuto Cellini; inscribed “Ex Dono Antonio Askew, M.D.”