King of Clubs (Whig Club) - Meetings

Meetings

Meetings of the King of Clubs did not always take place at the Crown and Anchor, and after 1819 they were held at the Freemasons' Tavern, at Grillions in Albemarle Street, and latterly at the Clarendon Hotel. A surviving account from one of the club's early meetings shows that a dinner for twelve members cost a £24, which included two bottles of Madeira, three bottles of Sherry, two bottles of Port and three bottles of Claret. Despite such unashamed conviviality there is no evidence that alcohol in any way impeded the flow or the quality of the conversation that took place, and we may imagine that the reverse was probably the case since the atmosphere was always a happy blend of the jovial and the serious. It was expected that members should give time to the preparation of their bon-mots, witticisms and anecdotes so that in due course these could be woven into the discussion as productively and effectively as possible. Clayden recalls how on one occasion Sharp, in fun, chanced upon Boddington's notes before a meeting, made a mental note of all his stories and brought them into the conversation before Boddington could relate them himself.

The preparation that members were expected to undertake before attending meetings of the King of Clubs does not seem to have spoiled either the spontaneity of what occurred or the enjoyment of those who attended. Yet when Francis Horner had his first experience of the club, on 10 April 1802, he gained a very mixed impression, finding the conversation less animated than he had anticipated but attributing this to the absence of Sydney Smith:

"This day I dined at the King of Clubs which meets monthly at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand. The company consisted of Mackintosh, Romilly, Whishaw, Abercromby, Sharp, Scarlett, etc. Smith is not yet come to town. The conversation was very pleasing. It consisted chiefly of literary reminiscences, anecdotes of authors, criticisms of books, etc. I had been taught to expect a very different scene – a display of argument, wit and all the flourishes of intellectual gladiatorship, which though less permanently pleasing, is for the time more striking. This expectation was not answered, partly, as I am given to understand, from the absence of Smith, and partly from the presence of Romilly, who evidently received from all an unaffected deference and imposed a certain degree of restraint."

Horner regretted that there was no discussion of political ideas and complained that Sharp and Mackintosh seemed to be too much in agreement with one another, "as if they belonged to a kind of sect". In a sense this remark was quite true, but Horner was quite happy to become a member of the sect himself that year and Clayden confirms that by 1804 Mackintosh and Sydney Smith had established "a kind of society" which still held parties "once or twice every week" in their own homes. In effect these were a continuation of the informal meetings which had started in 1798 and which Horner was now happy to attend. As far as the more formal meetings of the club were concerned there was broad agreement by members that James Mackintosh and Sydney Smith were the most brilliant contributors. Tom Moore felt that certain of the group, Mackintosh included, invested so much of their time and energy in club proceedings that their literary and professional careers suffered as a direct consequence, but whatever the risks, the King of Clubs enjoyed immense status as a place where superb conversation might be found and accordingly membership became more keenly sought than ever. In 1809, and mindful of those times when he had been in financial straits, Sydney Smith wrote dryly to Lady Holland:

"...we have admitted a Mr Baring, importer and writer, into the King of Clubs, upon the express promise that he lends £50 to any member of the club when applied to. I proposed this amendment to his introduction which was agreed to without a dissenting voice."

Smith added pointedly:

"I wish you would speak to Romilly about the levity and impropriety of his conversation – he is becoming an absolute rake and Ward and I talk of leaving the Club if a more chaste line of dialogue is not adhered to."

At one stage it was proposed by Mackintosh that the conversation and witticisms of their meetings should be recorded in a literary magazine, to be called The Bachelor. It was felt that there existed more than sufficient material to support a twice-weekly publication, but although the idea had the support of Rogers, Robert Smith, Scarlett and Sharp, the project never materialised. Consequently, though the Club's meetings spanned a quarter of a century, few details hav$e survived of the bonhomie, the magic and the sparkling conversation that went on at them. The reason for the final demise of the club is not known but the poet Thomas Campbell became a frequent guest and in the following letter to a friend he reflects on some of the reasons why he himself gradually became disenchanted:

"Much of the art and erudition of these men please an auditor at the first and second visit; the trial of minds becomes at last fatiguing because it is unnatural and unsatisfactory. Every one of these brilliants goes there to shine, for conversational powers are so much the rage in London that no reputation is higher than his who exhibits them to advantage. Where everyone tries to instruct there is, in fact, but little instruction. Wit, paradox, eccentricities, even absurdity, if delivered rapidly and facetiously, takes priority in these societies of sound reason and delicate taste. I have watched sometimes the devious tide of conversation guided by accidental associations turning from topic to topic and satisfactory upon none. What has one learned? – has been my general question. The mind it is true is electrified and quickened, and the spirits are fiercely exhilarated, but grand fault pervades the whole institution – their enquiries are desultory, and all improvements to be reaped must be accidental."