[7] Indubitably the Cheshire Cheese.
[8] An error on the part of the writer. It is served on Mondays and Wednesdays as well.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE “CHESHIRE CHEESE” IN LITERATURE
“The Field of Art” (“Scribner”), Feb. 1897:
“There is no date recorded of the building of the ‘Cheese,’ but for over two hundred years it has been in existence, and has been patronised by celebrities of every degree. Charles II. ate a chop there with Nell Gwynne. A brass tablet in one corner informs you that this was the favourite seat of Dr. Samuel Johnson, and the panelling immediately below is quite polished by the heads of generations of the faithful who have held it an honour to occupy the seat....
“Along Fleet Street nineteenth century humanity rushes in throngs, feverishly intent on the main chance. But now and again units from the mass fall out and disappear into a little doorway, so unobtrusive in its character as to be easily passed by strangers in search of it. A small passageway, a bit of court, and one enters the Old Cheshire Cheese, treading in the footsteps of generations of wits and philosophers. A wit the visitor may not be, but he is certain to be the other in one way or another, and his purpose in coming here can have little in common with the hurly-burly he has but just left out there in Fleet Street. The tide of affairs has left him stranded on an oasis of peculiar charm—a low-ceilinged room, brown as an old meerschaum, heavily raftered, and carrying to the sensitive nostril the scent of ages, the indescribable aroma inseparable from these haunts of geniality: the merry glow of the fire in the old grate, flirting tiny flames upwards that caress the steaming, singing kettle hanging just above. The old copper scuttle glints with the fitful gleams upon its burnished pudgy sides; the floor spread abundantly with sawdust softens the sounds of footfalls. The white tablecloths make the note of tidiness relieving the prevailing low tone of the room.... The silk hats and trousers of modern London almost seem out of harmony with the cosy quaintness of their environment; but smalls and buckles, and cocked hats pass away, and architecture survives the fashions and persons of its creators.
“The waiter before one looks very different from the picture on the wall of his one-time predecessor, but, what is important, the spirit remains the same. In an atmosphere of good fellowship the frequenters of to-day converse over their chop and pint, or perhaps before the cheery fire nurse their knees in reflective mood, drawn together by the same instincts that animated this delightful company of old.
“But who among these, if appealed to, could define the æsthetic charm of the place? Is it the rich colouring of yellow, and old gold, and silver, and brown, the traditions mellow as old wine that sweeten the atmosphere, the satisfaction of the senses, the pure contentment of soul, the pause by the way for the furbishing of one’s mental apparel? It is all these and more that make the Old Cheshire Cheese a delight, and, when one has gone, leaves of its high-backed benches and polished tables, its general aspect of warm and cheery hospitality, a glowing memory.”
“Chambers’s Journal,” Saturday, June 2, 1883, after speaking of an imaginary journey from Temple Bar eastward, thus describes the “Cheese”: