London Club Life. John Timbs

throw until he drove home the brewer's twelve ponies, running; and then, getting up, and making him a low bow, whilst pocketing the cash, he said, "Thank you, alderman; for the future, I shall never drink any porter but yours."—"I wish, Sir," replied the brewer, "that every other blackguard in London would tell me the same."

      "FIGHTING FITZGERALD"

       AT BROOKES'S.

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      This notorious person, George Robert Fitzgerald, though nearly related to one of the first families in Ireland (Leinster), was executed in 1786, for a murder which he had coolly premeditated, and had perpetrated in a most cruel and cowardly manner.

      His duelling propensities had kept him out of all the first Clubs in London. He once applied to Admiral Keith Stewart to propose him as a candidate for Brookes's; when the Admiral, knowing that he must either fight or comply with his request, chose the latter. Accordingly, on the night when the ballot was to take place (which was only a mere form in this case, for even Keith Stewart had resolved to black-ball him), the duellist accompanied the Admiral to St. James's-street, and waited in the room below, while the ballot was taken. This was soon done; for, without hesitation, each member threw in a black ball; and when the scrutiny came, the company were not a little amazed to find not even one white ball among the number. However, the rejection being carried nem. con., the question was, which of the members had the hardihood to announce the result to the expectant candidate. No one would undertake the office, for the announcement was thought sure to produce a challenge; and a duel with Fitzgerald had, in most cases, been fatal to his opponent. The general opinion was that the proposer, Admiral Stewart, should convey the intelligence. "No, gentlemen," said he, "I proposed the fellow because I knew you would not admit him; but, by Jove, I have no inclination to risk my life against that of a madman."

      "But, Admiral," replied the Duke of Devonshire,9 "there being no white ball in the box, he must know that you have black-balled him as well as the rest, and he is sure to call you out at all events."

      This posed the Admiral, who, after some hesitation, proposed that the waiter should tell Fitzgerald that there was one black ball, and that his name must be put up again if he wished it. All concurred in the propriety of this plan, and the waiter was dispatched on the mission. In the meantime, Fitzgerald had frequently rung the bell to inquire "the state of the poll," and had sent each waiter to ascertain, but neither durst return, when Mr. Brookes took the message from the waiter who was descending the staircase, and boldly entered the room, with a coffee equipage in his hand. "Did you call for coffee, Sir?" said Mr. Brookes, smartly. "D—n your coffee, Sir! and you too," answered Mr. Fitzgerald, in a voice which made the host's blood run cold. "I want to know, Sir, and that without one moment's delay, Sir, if I am chose yet?"

      "Oh, Sir!" replied Mr. Brookes, attempting to smile away the appearance of fear, "I beg your pardon, Sir, but I was just coming to announce to you, Sir, with Admiral Stewart's compliments, Sir, that unfortunately there was one black ball in the box, Sir; and consequently, by the rules of the Club, Sir, no candidate can be admitted without a new election, Sir;—which cannot take place, by the standing regulations of the Club, Sir, until one month from this time, Sir."

      During this address, Fitzgerald's irascibility appeared to undergo considerable mollification; and at its close, he grasped Brookes's hand, saying, "My dear Brookes, I'm chose; but there must be a small matter of mistake in my election:" he then persuaded Brookes to go upstairs, and make his compliments to the gentlemen, and say, as it was only a mistake of one black ball, they would be so good as to waive all ceremony on his account, and proceed to re-elect their humble servant without any more delay at all." Many of the members were panic-struck, foreseeing a disagreeable finale to the farce which they had been playing. Mr. Brookes stood silent, waiting for the answer. At length, the Earl of March (afterwards Duke of Queensberry) said aloud, "Try the effect of two balls: d—n his Irish impudence, if two balls don't take effect upon him, I don't know what will." This proposition was agreed to, and Brookes was ordered to communicate the same.

      On re-entering the waiting-room, Mr. Fitzgerald eagerly inquired, "Have they elected me right, now, Mr. Brookes?" the reply was, "Sorry to inform you that the result of the second balloting is—that two black balls were dropped, Sir."—"Then," exclaimed Fitzgerald, "there's now two mistakes instead of one." He then persuaded Brookes again to proceed upstairs, and tell the honourable members to "try again, and make no more mistakes." General Fitzpatrick proposed that Brookes should reply, "His cause was all hopeless, for that he was black-balled all over, from head to foot, and it was hoped by all the members that Mr. Fitzgerald would not persist in thrusting himself into society where his company was declined." This message was of no avail: no sooner had Fitzgerald heard it than he exclaimed: "Oh, I perceive it is a mistake altogether, Mr. Brookes, and I must see to the rectifying of it myself, there's nothing like daling with principals; so, I'll step up at once, and put this thing to rights, without any more unnecessary delay."

      In spite of Mr. Brookes's remonstrance, that his entrance into the Club-room was against all rule and etiquette, Fitzgerald flew upstairs, and entered the room without any further ceremony than a bow, saying to the members, who indignantly rose at the intrusion, "Your servant, gentlemen—I beg ye will be sated."

      Walking up to the fireplace, he thus addressed Admiral Stewart:—"So, my dear Admiral, Mr. Brookes informs me that I have been elected three times."

      "You have been balloted for, Mr. Fitzgerald, but I am sorry to say you have not been chosen," said Stewart.

      "Well, then," replied the duellist, "did you black-ball me?"—"My good Sir," answered the Admiral, "how could you suppose such a thing?"—"Oh, I supposed no such thing, my dear fellow; I only want to know who it was that dropped the black balls in by accident, as it were!"

      Fitzgerald now went up to each individual member, and put the same question seriatim, "Did you black-ball me, Sir?" until he made the round of the whole Club; and in each case he received a reply similar to that of the Admiral. When he had finished his inquisition, he thus addressed the whole body: "You see, Gentlemen, that as none of ye have black-balled me, I must be chose; and it is Mr. Brookes that has made the mistake. But I was convinced of it from the beginning, and I am only sorry that so much time has been lost as to prevent honourable gentlemen from enjoying each other's company sooner." He then desired the waiter to bring him a bottle of champagne, that he might drink long life to the Club, and wish them joy of their unanimous election of a "rael gentleman by father and mother, and who never missed his man."

      The members now saw that there was nothing to be done but to send the intruder to Coventry, which they appeared to do by tacit agreement; for when Admiral Stewart departed, Mr. Fitzgerald found himself cut by all his "dear friends." The members now formed parties at the whist-table; and no one replied to Fitzgerald's observations nor returned even a nod to the toasts and healths which he drank in three bottles of champagne, which the terrified waiter placed before him, in succession. At length, he arose, made a low bow, and took leave, promising to "come earlier next night, and have a little more of it." It was then agreed that half-a-dozen stout constables should be in waiting the next evening to bear him off to the watch-house, if he attempted again to intrude. Of this measure, Fitzgerald seemed to be aware; for he never again showed himself at Brookes's; though he boasted everywhere that he had been unanimously chosen a member of the Club.

      ARTHUR'S CLUB.

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      This Club, established more than a century since, at No. 69, St. James's-street, derives its name from Mr. Arthur, the master of White's Chocolate-house in the same street. Mr. Cunningham records: "Arthur died in June, 1761, in St. James's-place; and in the following October, Mr. Mackreth married Arthur's only child, and Arthur's Chocolate-house, as it was