Thomas Howell, Dolly’s Beef Steak House

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catering

Street View: 5
Address: Queen’s Head Passage

You might be forgiven in thinking that the address for Dolly’s Beef Steak House was 42 Newgate Street when looking at the elevation at the top of this post, but that is not true. The Steak House could be reached through the passageway under number 42 Newgate Street and is just as often referred to as ‘off Paternoster Row’, that is, the other side of Queen’s Head Passage. Queen’s Head Passage was also sometimes referred to as Queen’s Head Court. Horwood’s 1799 map below shows the passage between the two streets; Paternoster Row on the bottom and Newgate Street at the top. And below the map a drawing by T.H. Shepherd of 1856, showing the entrance to the establishment itself.

(Source: British Museum)

Although Tallis refers to Dolly’s as a Beef Steak House, Shepherd writes Steak & Chop House on the panel at the entrance to the establishment and Dolly’s Hotel on the lamp. Other sources do indeed show a huge variety in the way they refer to Dolly’s, but there was apparently only one “Dolly’s” and everybody knew what the various references meant. It had allegedly all started in the early eighteenth century when Queen Anne gave the premises to her favourite cook Dorothy, or Dolly, who was astute enough to make sure that her waitresses and bar maids were well turned out, thereby softening the blow for the customers when the bill came. One gentleman was so taken by the lovely waitress that a poem was written about them and immortalised in an engraving.

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The attractiveness of the waitresses was in stark contrast to the appearance of Dolly herself as the few portraits that exist of her are anything to go by, although I am not sure any were made in her lifetime and they could be flights of later imagination. This one is taken from volume 3 of James Caulfield’s Portraits, Memoirs, and Characters of Remarkable Persons, from the Revolution in 1688 to the End of the Reign of George II (1820) and made a century after the original Dolly had her chop house.

Many now famous people partook of the steaks and chops on offer at Dolly’s; James Boswell went there on 15 December 1762 and wrote in his diary, “I resolved today to be a true-born old-Englishman” and to do that, he went to Dolly’s to partake of a solitary meal consisting of “a large, fat, beaf-steak to fullfill the charge of Beef-eating”. He thought beef-steak houses excellent places to dine as you could be warm and comfortable there, either joining in conversation, or not if the fancy so took you, and the price of the food was reasonable. “My dinner, beef, bread & beer & waiter was only a shilling”.⁽¹⁾ Boswell was to dine at Dolly’s more often, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. Another, more frequent, customer of Dolly’s was George Fordyce, a physician, who dined there every day at four o’clock on the same menu, that is: chicken or fish for starters, then a rump steak of a pound and a half, accompanied by a tankard of ale, some brandy and a bottle of port. After all that he went home to receive his students for a lecture on chemistry. He was considered a poor lecturer; you wonder why, don’t you? You can read more about him and his drunken bedside manners here.

In 1786, Thomas Jefferson and a couple of friends came across a sign board advertising the chop house and decided to go inside. Apparently they enjoyed themselves so much there that they felt they had to write an apology to the person to whom they were supposed to go for dinner:

One among our many follies
Was calling in for steaks at Dolly’s
Whereby we’ve lost – and feel like Sinners
That we have miss’d much better dinners
…⁽²⁾

old sign board found on Pinterest

But fast forward to 1839 when Tallis produced his Street Views and Thomas Howell was the proprietor of Dolly’s Steak House. He had acquired the freedom of the City by redemption in 1837 and on the registration papers it is said that he was then 31 years old and the son of Robert Howell, a farmer of Oswestry, Shropshire. Howell’s address is already given as Dolly’s Chop House in Queen’s Head Court. A decade later, in 1846, a page-long article appeared in The Literary Garland, and British North American Magazine describing Dolly’s. It said that if you were coming from Newgate Street, “down a quiet court, silent as a cloister, and on the right hand side you will see Dolly’s Chop-House”. Combining this information with the one of Shepherd’s drawing, I think that Dolly’s was closer to Paternoster Row than to Newgate Street and that Shepherd showed the passage to Paternoster Row, rather than the one Tallis showed in Newgate Street. According to the anonymous author of the article, a more celebrated place could not be found and it had, in the century and a bit that it had existed, been visited by a large number of celebrated man (no women apparently), some of whom he described as partaking of the legendary steaks served at Dolly’s. For instance Dr. Johnson is imagined as coming there with Mr. Thrale to escape “the pleasant chattering of Mrs T”. Other famous guests he imagined sitting in the chop house were Oliver Goldsmith, Joshua Reynolds and Richard Brinsley Sheridan, but after all this name-dropping, he mentions Howell, the proprietor.

Howell keeps a very good cellar and keeps up the tradition of the house in serving excellent steaks, “firm, tender and juicy”. There is a separate smoking room which is referred to as Howell’s own City House of Commons. And best of all, according to the author of the article, the bill is surprisingly moderate and he resolved to “refresh our inward man for ever afterwards at Dolly’s Chop-house”.⁽³⁾ But the “for ever afterwards” of the author in The Literary Garland was not for ever as the end for the chop-house came in 1881 when it closed its doors. The building was destroyed just over a year later to make way for a ‘Manchester warehouse’.⁽⁴⁾ Despite the fact that the beef-steak-house has been demolished and this post has therefore come to an end, you can still see parts of the building as Elliot Stock, a publisher of Paternoster Row, had 10 copies of Oliver Goldsmith’s The Vicar of Wakefield bound with wooden boards taken from the panelling of Dolly’s Chop House. Number 4 (of 10) has been on the market and contains a paper label signed by Stock (see for a full description and a picture of the wooden boards here).

(1) James Boswell, London Journal 1762-1763, ed. G. Turnbull (Penguin Classics, 2014, p. 43-47). Waiters were given a penny as a tip.
(2) Kevin J. Hayes, The Road to Monticello: The Life and Mind of Thomas Jefferson (2008), pp. 313-314.
(3) The same article also appeared in The Aberdeen Journal, 22 January 1845.
(4) New York Times, 26 December 1881 and 8 April 1883.

Neighbours:

<– 42 Newgate Street

41 Newgate Street –>

Rev. Dr. Cotton, ordinary of Newgate prison

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prison

Street View: 5
Address: 1 Newgate Street

Although Tallis does not give an occupation for the Rev. Cotton, it is not very difficult to work out that he was the Ordinary at Newgate prison. On the 17th of December 1791, young Horatio Salusbury Cotton, the 17-year old son of Robert Salusbury Cotton of Reigate, matriculated at Wadham College, Oxford, and went on to receive his B.A. four years later.⁽¹⁾ He became the curate at Peasemore in 1796, the vicar at Desborough in 1800, changed to the combination curate/schoolmaster at Cuckfield Grammar School in 1805 and from 1810 could be found at Hornsey.⁽²⁾ In the baptism register from St. Mary, Hornsey, we find an entry Cotton probably wrote himself for the baptism on 28 September 1810 for Lynch, the son of Cotton and his wife Caroline Amelia. Lynch had been born on 22 November 1806 at Cuckfield.

Cotton’s house marked by red arrow on the 1799 map by Horwood

In 1821, a batch of three children for Horace and Caroline are baptised on 4 August 1821 at Christ Church in the City of London: Elizabeth Berkeley (born 8 February 1808), Emma (born 8 October 1810) and Stapleton (born 8 May 1814). The address for the family is Newgate Street which is directly linked to his appointment as Ordinary of Newgate Prison on 29 July 1814.⁽³⁾ We know so precisely because a committee conducted an investigation into the state of some prisons and Cotton was questioned as one of the employees. He states that although he has been in office since 29 July 1814, he has not yet (that is in April 1815 when the committee questions him) had his instructions in writing, “the Town Clerk has promised to send them two or three times, but there has been delay”. We know that Cotton earned £400 a year beside £6 from Lady Barnardiston’s Gift, and was given a house to reside in.⁽⁴⁾ After his retirement in 1838, he received a pension of £300.⁽⁵⁾

Cotton’s House and part of the prison wall from Tallis’s Street View map

Because the house was given to him to live in, Cotton’s name on a list of voters was objected to on the grounds that he was not the owner or tenant. The house belonged to the City and for as long as anyone could remember it had always been occupied by the ordinary. The poor rate for the property, although in the name of Cotton, had in fact been paid by the City. It was ascertained that Cotton was only allowed to live in the house as long as he was the ordinary and that he could not claim any rights towards the property. His name on the voters’ list was struck off.⁽⁷⁾

In 1838, Sotheby’s sold the Collection of Books on Angling, the Property of the Rev. H.S. Cotton, Late Ordinary of Newgate which included some of his father’s books. In subsequent sales more of Cotton’s books and prints were sold off and the third portion contained “an extraordinary collection of tracts relating to criminals, lives of notorious thieves, felons, &c.”⁽⁶⁾ One item which has turned up is a notebook by Cotton on those condemned to death during his tenure, not just their names, but also his personal observations, although it was against the rules to do anything of the sort. The notebook has come onto the market and Peter Berthoud wrote an excellent post on it, see here.

Cotton’s bookplate (Source: Houghton Library)

Thomas Wontner was the schoolmaster at Newgate prison at the same time as the Reverend Cotton was the ordinary there. Wontner wrote in his Old Bailey Experience⁽⁸⁾ that a clergyman of the church of England was appointed by the alderman of the City to minister to the spiritual needs of the prisoners, “and more particularly to afford consolation to the unhappy men who come under the sentence of death”. According to Wontner, “there is not a more fit individual for the situation in the whole body of ministers belonging to our church establishment” than Cotton who had “an excellent heart” and “sound judgement; and, above all, is a determined enemy to cant and dissimulation”. Well, maybe just a bit too determined, as Cotton had to be censured by the authorities for “harrowing the prisoner’s feelings unnecessarily”. Cotton’s job was not made easy as the various denominations to which the City’s aldermen belonged, caused them to allow all kinds of people in to administer consolation to those sentenced to death with the result that the prisoner, in stead of a few quiet last hours after having his mind prepared with the help of the official ordinary, was beset by other ministers who, according to Wontner, only managed to inflict “additional punishment to that which the law has already awarded to the man, torturing and distracting his mind”. And whilst Wontner applauds their zeal, he condemns their interference. The only one allowed to see the prisoner in his last hours should be the Newgate ordinary as he has “great experience among criminals”.

W. Thomson, Dr. Cotton, ordinary of Newgate, Announcing the Death Warrant (Source: Tate Gallery)

Source: peterharrington.co.uk

Wontner had another problem and that was the abundance of lurid adventure stories, figuring “robbers, pirates and loose women”. These stories so influenced young boys that it was almost inevitable that they turned to crime. He blamed the national school system where the boys were “taught to read entirely from the Scriptures, and never see any other book of interest. It is highly probable, if books of general history were put into their hands, and their tastes directed to substantial food for their mind, by which they might acquire a desire for the knowledge of facts instead of fiction, they might be excited to a better kind of reading, and much of the mischief avoided.” Wontner does not deny that the Scriptures are of the first importance, but “little works of morality, with natural and general history, are decidedly the most proper for their years.” Wontner was not the only one to think that a diet of exclusively dry religion was not the best way to prepare the prisoners for a new life outside the prison walls. That new life was frequently on the other side of the planet as transportation was considered a just punishment for even minor offences. While in the late 18th century, prisoners were given prayer books and bibles, in the 19th century, the realisation that more could be achieved by varying the reading material took hold. The S.P.C.K. (Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge) changed their list of books suitable to be given to prisoners from one exclusively filled with religious material to one where secular literature was listed amongst the society’s own publications. That is not to say that they were willing to provide the material that included the “robbers, pirates and loose women” Wontner objected to, but more general books on history, voyages, travel and biography were selected as suitable.⁽⁹⁾ Wontner wrote in his Old Bailey Experience that “with the assistance of the Rev. Mr. Cotton and Mrs. Fry, I succeeded in obtaining a stock of these books; and I am satisfied, from my experience with nearly five hundred boys, that no other is so well calculated to engage their attention.” One famous visitor to Newgate, Charles Dickens, wrote about the situation in the prison in one of his Sketches by Boz and it comes complete with a description of the chapel. According to Dickens it was not much: mean, unpainted, dingy and bare. But worse of all was the condemned pew below the reading desk where the unfortunates to be put to death were placed on the Sunday before their execution.⁽¹⁰⁾

Newgate Chapel from W.J.Loftie, London City (1891)

In 1838, Cotton retired to Reigate, Surrey, where he died on 7 June 1846, 72 years old (his wife had died in 1842). His will is short and he leaves his copyhold of the Manor of Colley at Reigate to his two sons Lynch and Stapleton. Lynch also gets the quarto Baskett Bible that Cotton had inherited from his grandfather. Daughters Emma and Elizabeth get a cottage and the residue of the estate. Cotton had named George William Rillett Potter of Basinghall Street executor, but he declined and probate was granted to daughter Emma.⁽¹¹⁾

——————–
(1) Alumni Oxonienses: The Members of the University of Oxford, 1500-1714 (1888-1892).
(2) http://www.db.theclergydatabase.org.uk
(3) Report from the Committee on The King’s Bench, Fleet, and Marshalsea Prisons, &c. (1815).
(4) Parliamentary Papers, House of Commons and Command, volume 33. Account and Papers relating to Crime (session 1831-1832).
(5) The Necessity of Reforming the Corporation of London, Demonstrated by a Plain Statement of Facts (1843).
(6) Advertisements for future sales in Sotheby’s Catalogue of a Valuable Collection of Books (1837).
(7) The Standard, 2 November 1836.
(8) Thomas Wontner, Old Bailey Experience. Criminal jurisprudence and the actual working of our penal code of laws (1833).
(9) Janet Fyfe, Books Behind Bars. The Role of Books, Reading, and Libraries in British Prison Reform, 1701-1911 (1992).
(10) Charles Dickens, “A visit to Newgate” in Sketches by Boz (1837) Online here.
(11) National Archives, PROB 11/2046.

Neighbours:

<– 2 Newgate Street

George Whiffin Bradbee, fringe maker

Tags

fringe maker

Street View: 5
Address: 115 Newgate Street

In 1784, Nicholas Bradbee was apprenticed to James Rogers of Dowgate Hill, a barber. Rogers promised to teach Bradbee in seven years the “art or mystery of barber and peruke maker”. After his apprenticeship (in 1791), Nicholas set up on his own, not as might be expected as a hairdresser, but as a silk lace and worsted fringe manufacturer at 115 Newgate Street. One year later, he married Rebecca Leah Whiffin; the couple had at least six children (Ann, Mary, Philip, John, Rebecca and George Whiffin). Nicholas unfortunately died in May 1815 and Rebecca had to continue the business on her own until the youngest son, George Whiffin, was old enough to take over. The 1821 insurance with the Sun Fire Office is still in Rebecca’s name, but the 1823 entry is for George Whiffin “lace and fringe manufacturer”.

Two illustrations from The Imperial Macramé Lace Book by the Barbour Brothers of New York (1877)

Fringes were very much in vogue in the Victorian era and anything from chairs, parasols, purses and curtains were fashioned with a macramé fringe. Have a look here for John Hopper’s blog post on macramé. Numerous handbooks on needlework mentioned macramé, or macramé lace as it was usually called, but some books were entirely devoted to fringe making. A good example is The Imperial Macramé Lace Book by the Barbour Brothers of New York which explains the intricacies of the lace work step by step. Another work with a typical long title was Complete guide to the work-table. Containing instructions in Berlin work, crochet, drawn-thread work, embroidery, knitting, knotting or macramé, lace, netting, poonah painting, & tatting, with numerous illustrations and coloured designs. The work had originally been published as separate supplements to The Young Ladies’ Journal, but was obviously so popular that more editions had to be issued.

The Morning Post 18 January 1842

In 1842, a small booklet was issued by Mrs Bradbee (I assume this is Rebecca), The Lady’s Fancy Needlework Instructor. It was sold at 115 Newgate Street, in St. Paul’s Churchyard, and at 75 King’s Road, Brighton, where the Bradbee’s also had a shop. I have not seen a copy of Mrs Bradbee’s instruction book, so cannot tell you what it looks like or what needlework techniques she described, but if you are determined to see for yourself, there is one in the Royal Collection.

The Young Ladies’ Journal (1884) – section on macramé

George Whiffin married Mary Bean in 1823; the couple had four daughters and one son, George Whiffin junior, who joined his father in the business. Nothing very much happened for quite some years, except someone stealing in and frightening Miss Sweetlove, a guest of the Bradbees, in 1835⁽¹⁾ and the death of Rebecca in 1847⁽²⁾. In 1851, at the Great Exhibition, Bradbee showed his needlework and fringes on 5 feet of counter and 48 feet of wall.⁽³⁾ The Illustrated London News of 11 October 1851 qualified Bradbee’s tassel work as simple, but “most charming” and as “clearly copied from Oriental originals”. The fringes, however, meet with less praise; they are considered “more quaint than tasteful”.

Entry in the Official descriptive and illustrated catalogue of the Great exhibition, vol. 2 (1851), p. 562

In 1854, young George Whiffin “of the Grange, Willesden Green, and Newgate-street” married Louisa, widow of Edward Prosser Esq., “of Glynfield House, Willesden, and Laurence-Lane, Cheapside”. So far, so good, Louisa was a good match and she gave G.W. junior some £2,700 as gifts in the fourteen months after the marriage. The money turned out to be more than necessary and in 1855, things came to a head; Bradbee senior and Bradbee junior were declared bankrupt. The case in the Court of Bankruptcy dragged on for quite a while, because they would not give a complete account of their assets and G.W. senior was even accused of papering over a cupboard to conceal the items in it, although it turned out to have been just some glass and china “not of much value” and the concealing was probably done by a previous (bankrupt) occupant of the house. The furniture at the Willesden house “had been nearly all swallowed up in paying arrears of rent”. The accounts that were made up by Messrs. Harding and Pullein for the period from 1 January 1850 show that the sale of the goodwill for the Brighton business brought £500 to the balance and the sale of the lease of a house a little over £220. Junior’s account showed a positive balance, but senior’s dealings were one big black hole; he appeared to have used the money junior received from his wife’s trustees to plug the holes in his own finances rather than investing them in the business and there had been some dodgy dealings with bonds. The final outcome was that the Bradbees were judged to be guilty of reckless trading and their certificates were of the third (for G.W. senior) and second (for G.W. junior) class.⁽⁴⁾ A second-class certificate was issued when the debtor had acted careless or reckless, but not dishonest. A third-class certificate, however, was issued when the bankruptcy was caused by dishonesty.

The Young Ladies’ Journal (1884) – section on Berlin work

In most cases, a bankruptcy like this would be the end of a business and no more would be heard of the people involved. In this case it was certainly the end of the business and G.W. senior seems to have become a landlord (he died in 1891). G.W. junior, however, managed to get his name into the papers again. In 1875, a news item in Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper of 21 November speaks of the petition of the wife of a picture dealer for a divorce on the grounds of her husband’s adultery and cruelty. The wife turns out to be Louisa Bradbee who related that she married Bradbee in July 1854 and that they had moved to Brussels in 1870. While there, she discovered that her husband had started an affair with a Madame Leman. When confronted, Bradbee promised to give up his lover, but not just yet, as the woman was “enceinte” as the newspaper put it. Mrs Bradbee offered to provide for the child if he would end the relation with Leman. Although he promised to do so, he was discovered to be living in Baker Street with a woman other than his wife. Lloyd’s Weekly does not disclose this woman’s name, but The Observer reporting on the same case alleged it was the same woman as the one Bradbee had had a liaison with in Brussels. The divorce was granted and in 24 February 1877, Bradbee married Jean Clemence Lemmens “late of Brussels” in Paris.⁽⁵⁾ Although the name is not quite the same Leman – Lemmens, I think we can assume that it concerns the same woman. Louisa took the name of her first husband again and lived for another twenty years. She died in late 1895 or early 1896 in Nieuport, Belgium.⁽⁶⁾ In 1891, George Whiffin (occupation given as antiquary) and Clemence were living in Hans Road, Kensington, with two of their daughters. In 1901, they are living in Halsey Street, Chelsea; G.W.’s occupation is once again given as picture dealer. He seems to have died in 1906.⁽⁷⁾

(1) The Morning Chronicle, 10 February 1835.
(2) The Morning Chronicle, 2 July 1847.
(3) The Daily News 17 April 1851.
(4) The Daily News, 2 April and 4 June 1856; The Morning Chronicle, 11 June 1856.
(5) The Pall Mall Gazette, 29 March 1877.
(6) The Daily News, 20 February 1896.
(7) Some of the biographical data in this post have been elicited from www.hyattfamily.co.uk, the rest from Ancestry.co.uk.

Neighbours:

<– 116 Newgate Street

114 Newgate Street –>