LONDON’S CLUBLAND

Evening Star, Issue 23349, 19 August 1939, Page 27

LONDON’S CLUBLAND

WHERE OLD CUSTOMS STILL RULE THE PASSING OF PRINCE'S When, a short time ago, Prince’s Club in Knightsbridge closed its doors for the last time, there were commentators on life who deplored) the passing of a unique bit of Victorian London, and actually pointed to it as one more indication of tho approaching end of the world (writes Ernest H.. Rann, in tho ‘Christian Science Monitor’). Certainly there was some reason for the sad) eye and the burdened heart among clubmen of the fashionable world. ■ Prince’s was a great institution, with a history of some 80 years, an unblemished record for real tennis and rackets which had been established by the finest players in the world, and an atmosphere of superlative tone. The first real strength of the club was when the Guards were in Kniglitsbridgo Barracks just opposite, and it was a standing order with them that Prince’s was “in bounds,” even for the orderly officer of the day, and as a consequence the club was always crowded with members of tho brigade. It could boast that on its roll of members there wore the names of four British monarchs, past and present. Prince’s was tho frequent haunt of King Edward VII., of King George V., of . King Edward VIII., when he was Prince of Wales, and of King George VI, when hp was Duke of York. It was always the pride of Prince’s ’hat every member knew every other member by his Christian name, andl could say exactly what he liked about him with every twist of his vocabulary; but whether that rule were maintained in the case of royalty, history is silent. PRESENCE NOT ADVERTISED. But to suppose that clubland is doomed, and that the end! of the “ West End ” world is due by reason of the disappearance of Prince’s, is absurd. As long as choice varieties of humanity exist, so long will London iiave its clubs for all sorts and conditions of men. They do not advertise their presence on Pall Mall or St. James’s street. Few of them have door plates, and behind their solemn facades they preserve an almost cloistral dignity and decorum. They had and have their own stern rules. At the National Club “ family prayers ” are said every morning, in the presence of members, the office staff, and the pages. Was it not the Alexandra Club which for 50 years refused to admit men to rooms long hallowed by femininity, so that when Queen Alexandra was once lunching there and King Edward called for her, he was kept waiting outside until a message had been sent to the dining room ? King Edward’s favoruite club was the Marlborough, hard by his home, Marlborough House. Ho formed the club for the enjoyment of himself and his friends. King George VI. is also a member of the Marlborough Club—of that and no other. The Duke of Gloucester, the King’s brother, belongs to the Marlborough, too, and the Bath, the Cavalry, and Buck’s; while the Duke of Conaught favours, next to the Marlborough, the United Services, the Army and Navy, the Guards’, as befits an old 1 soldier, and the Royal Automobile. —- Tho Princess Elizabeth is often at the Bath Club for swimming practice, and here, in perhaps happier days. King Edward VIII. (as Prince of Wales) was a frequent visitor, keen for a friendly game of squash. TOO PRESUMPTUOUS. But should a member of the Royal family appear in a Royal club it must not bo supposed that the “ divinity (that) doth hedge a king” is forgotten. The story runs that when King Edward VII (then Prince of Wales) was sitting one day by the fire a too-presump-tupus fellow-member said: “ Wales, touch tho bell.” “ Wales ” touched it, and when the waiter appeared the Prince remarked: “Waiter, kindly order this gentleman’s carriage.” Foreign princes visiting London are made temporary members of the Marlborough, and its ties with royalty aro very close, but against politics it sets a granite face, as the late Duke of Marlborough discovered to his chagrin when he gave a political luncheon to his cousin, Winston Churchill, and some 40 other persons—and invited reporters to, bo present. The Marlborough rocked to its foundations. The peculiar distinction of tho Athenaeum among the clubs of London, indeed of the world, is hardly to bo questioned. Standing on the “ sweet, shady side of Pall Mall,” it is peculiarly associated with the conception of eminence. and. has been likened to a stage across which passes every distinguished figure in the higher walks of art, natural science, literature, the church, and stage. It is the common meeting ground of the great. NOTED FOR SILENCE. The Athenaeum has always been noted for its silence and the solemnity of its deportment, but with the passing of the years its conversational atmosphere has both lightened and brightened. Some of the older members of the club still bemoan the fact that, after a hard struggle, the regulation as to the admission of visitors has been relaxed. For years the club prided itself upon the way that even the most distinguished non-members were kept from its sacred precincts. All sorts of celebrated folk have been turned sway from tho door. When Mr Ramsay MacDonald was Prime Minister and a member of the club, he took a very distinguished friend there with him. But Prime Ministers are treated like everyone else at the Athenaeum, and Ramsay MacDonald had to go elsewhere for lunch. The Athenaeum, having so many celebrities within its walls, is proud of its reputation of never staring at a guest, however famous lie mav be. But when Hugh Walpole escorted Charles Laughton, tho film star, into the dining room, every distinguished head was turned in Laughton’s direction. Many bishops were present, and the secret of their lives came out—every one of them was a film fan. ESTABLISHED FOR GAMING. The great period of London chibs dates from the middle of the eighteenth century, and nearly all of them were established for the purpose of gaming. The bow windows of White’s, still to be seen, became an institution of fashionable life in the West End. From tho first only the chosen and older members of the club sat there. The ordinary member would never have dreamed of taking a chair. Moreover, the favoured occupants of the window seats sat with their hats on, in evidence to tho outside world, in St. James’s street, and the indies of their acquaintance could not fail to recognise them in passing. But did the be-hatled members recognise tiie Indies ? That would have been asking altogether too much, and after

anxious debate it was decided that no greeting of any kind should pass from the bow window or any other window of the club, and the hat of the dandy was ever afterward fixed firmly on his head whoever might be passing. Yet, on the whole the traditions of London clubs are slowly passing away. The modern young man has less use for restrictions than had his frandfather, and wants to be free. If the Marlborough has abandoned its once inflexible rule that no one could dine there except in full evening dross, there is hope that some less understandable rules in other clubs will vanish. But with it all wo may have to wail a long, long day, if ever, to see “ Wales ” ring the bell at the call of a presumptuous friend.