Actually, the club was nameless throughout their first 100 years of existence; only in 1795 did they rename themselves (rather smugly, after their own anniversary).
Anyway, this club supped more often than they dined, which in the 18th century was usually a lighter meal, with fewer options, than the fare usually discussed on this Blog. But what did the members do after supper was over? Well, just the same thing as any other club of red-blooded gentlemen did in 18th century London ... they gambled. Even though the Centenary Club's rule book states that "Any member who shall at any time during the club come to be disordered by drink, shall forfeit 6d," I suspect that, given all the bets (made, inevitably, in bottles of claret) going on, they took a very liberal view of the term "disordered."
Roulette was popular by the 18th century. But I'm not really sure what games the Centenary Club played; the minute books don't say. |
Public Executions: All fun and games for these guys? |
Who was this guy? Well, we know that he was a livery-man; in 1749 he was chosen to officiate as the master of the Worshipful Company of Stationers on Lord Mayor's Day. Contemporary printed documents refer to him as a Bookseller. And the guy obviously liked to play fast and loose with his bottles of claret, as he happened to lay more wagers, and pay more fines, than anybody.
On May 5, 1736, Innys "paid ... a bottle of wine for laying a wager during the club time without having first obtained leave of the high steward, conforming to the order of the club."
And in December of that same year, it is written "Mr Innys do pay a bottle of wine for usurping upon the power of the high steward in declaring before his high steward."
A few years later, he is fined again (twice!) for using "reflecting" language. I could go on and on.
Yes, this William Innys was quite the rabble-rouser; kind of like that slightly obnoxious friend who can perpetually be counted on to get too drunk and spend the rest of the evening trying to push everyone's buttons. But you got to love him, because he's been in the club for a long time, and, well, he always makes the evening more memorable. And I confess, dear readers, that as I turned the pages of this old leather-bound tome, I began to develop an affection for William Innys. I grew concerned when I got to the 1750s and noticed that he was attending meetings with far less frequency. The last time he came to the club was in late June, 1755. In 1756, a written note confirmed my gravest fears.
William Innys .............. dead.
Yes, this William Innys was quite the rabble-rouser; kind of like that slightly obnoxious friend who can perpetually be counted on to get too drunk and spend the rest of the evening trying to push everyone's buttons. But you got to love him, because he's been in the club for a long time, and, well, he always makes the evening more memorable. And I confess, dear readers, that as I turned the pages of this old leather-bound tome, I began to develop an affection for William Innys. I grew concerned when I got to the 1750s and noticed that he was attending meetings with far less frequency. The last time he came to the club was in late June, 1755. In 1756, a written note confirmed my gravest fears.
William Innys .............. dead.
At the top of the page, you can see the club's note of William Innys's death |
Yep ... and it was held over dinner |
That's right; I guess they auctioned off all of Innys's books after his death. Given that his life was more or less bound up with the printing industry, it isn't very surprising that Innys was quite the literary man. He was an avid reader of Cervantes (Don Quixote) and Milton (Paradise Lost) but seemed to have no taste for the Richardsonian epistolary epics that took the 1740s by storm. Neither was he a stranger to science, having owned Newton's Principia Mathematica, the anatomical work of Boerhaave and von Haller, and copies of the Royal Society's Philosophical Transactions. His books suggest that he was a religious man (he owned various sermons and devotions) but also was a lover of history and natural philosophy.
Innys happily straddled the worlds of the Ancients and the Moderns alike.
No comments:
Post a Comment