“All the artists of the neighbourhood will dine here,” be declared with
conviction. “If we could only get old Madox Brown to come here once, he
would never go to the trouble of having dinners cooked at home!”
Madox Brown lived in Fitzroy Square, so that the convenience of the
arrangement seemed indisputable. And Charlotte Street, as well as some
other streets with long first-floor windows, was still a thoroughfare in
which artists set up their studios. The Bohemia of “The Newcomes” was
still existing north of Oxford Street when I first knew London, and when
I have visited Madox Brown in Fitzroy Square it has given me pleasure to
think that his might be the very building which was tenanted for a time
by Colonel Newcome. But if a tithe of the artists then working in that
part of the town were to demand a meal at the restaurant newly discovered
by Wills, the majority of them must have had their dinner served to them
in the street. An invasion even of the members of the Madox Brown family
would have strained the resources of the tiny place to the utmost.
At the time when Wills was making daily discoveries among the little
French eating-houses of Soho and Bloomsbury, he had few imitators in that
field of gastronomies. The Englishman still pooh-poohed the French
cuisine. He never hesitated to express his contempt for what he called
“kickshaws.” Give him a basin of mock turtle soup, a bit of boiled
turbot, a cut off the joint, and two vegetables, with apple pudding and
Stilton cheese to end up with, and he wouldn’t thank you for the finest
repast conceived by the first chef, and prepared by the most expert
assistants in Europe! There are still fine old English gentlemen who
hold this heresy; but they all held it then. The consequence is that
half the population, over fifty years of age, suffer from indigestion.
But while this most barbarous standard of dining obtained, it was
faithfully catered for by the fine old English gentleman’s staunch
admirer—the fine old English landlord. And to this day there persist a
few establishments which make it their business to supply the fine old
English dinner for the fine old English gormandizer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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