Where the Boys Are: Watier’s Club

Our century was definitely the golden age of the men’s club, a place where gentlemen and the nobility went to hang out with each other, read the papers, gamble, and conduct what we today call “networking”…and one of the more interesting of these clubs was also one of the shortest-lived, being on operation for only twelve years. But for those twelve years, Watier’s was one of the most fashionable of masculine London hangouts, and one of the few clubs to lack a political slant. The nickname Watier’s was most known by was “the Dandy Club”, which should tell you everything about the interests of its members.

Its origins are lofty ones. According to Captain Rees Gronow, a fashionable man-about-town of the time whose diary makes fascinating reading, Watier’s was the brain-child of the Prince Regent himself. At a dinner one evening in 1807, Prinny asked his friends (members of White’s and Brooks’s, two of the premier clubs of London) about the dining at their clubs, and was told that the food was universally awful: "the eternal joints, or beef-steaks, the boiled fowl with oyster sauce, and an apple tart--this is what we have, sir, at our clubs, and very monotonous far it is". Then and there, Prinny (who as you might recall, was quite the gourmet) proposed that they start their own club, dedicated to the French art of “gastronomy.” His best friend, Beau Brummell, was appointed President in perpetuity, and Prinny’s own personal chef, Jean Baptiste Watier, was summoned from the kitchen to weigh in on the matter. Though he declined to be the new club’s cook (or Prinny didn’t want to lose his chef!), the club was named in his honor and another royal chef, Monsieur Labourie, became chef; one of Prinny’s pages, Madison, was named manager.

And the result? Though Watier’s was initially billed as a musical society and singing club, it soon became known as the finest dining establishment in London, with food unmatched even by the best Parisian cooks…but it also became known as a gambling house where the stakes were incredibly high (evidently the singing wasn’t enough!) Beau Brummell’s fine athletic figure suffered as a result of his presidency, and so did his pocketbook: too much fine dining and playing at high-stakes Macao saw the beginning of his ruin, which would be complete in 1816 when he and the Prince had a falling-out. After the Beau’s flight to France to avoid his creditors, Watier’s fell apart, and in 1819 it closed.

But its legacy lived on, and ten years later Crockford’s Club was established, also dedicated to fine dining and featuring superstar chefs Louis Eustache Ude and Charles Francatelli, who went on to become Queen Victoria’s personal chef.

Thank God for the Beau

I intended to include this post in our “bad boys” series, but George “Beau” Brummell really wasn’t bad. In fact, he did a lot of good things — for men’s fashion, for interior décor, and for cleanliness. And he did it all with an amazing amount of style.

Beau Brummell was raised to be a gentleman, even though his father was only a government clerk who became a private secretary to a member of the aristocracy. Young Brummell attended Eton and made many influential friends. Once he arrived in London, his cool impudence made him a favorite in the upper levels of society, and before anyone knew it, he had become the leader of all things fashionable.

In fact, Brummell dictated men’s fashion. He threw off the lush embroidery and fanciful materials of the late 1700s and aimed for a sober but perfect dress. He was the first to wear evening dress of black coat and breeches. He ordered that cravats were only suitable if they were starched. He brought pantaloons (which became trousers) into fashion. The men’s suit today still follows the basic design laid down by the Beau. It was said that the Prince came to his house merely to watch him dress and begged him for advice.

He decreed that simple lines and lack of ostentation should rule inside the home as well. He encouraged the proprietor of White’s to install a bow window so he could sit and watch the ladies go by. I keep imagining him and his cronies using the Olympic style of rating.

“Ah, Lady Bessborough. 9 for execution and 10 for style. That’s 90 points overall. Perhaps I’ll deign to attend her ball next quarter day.”

He also started a craze for bathing. It was rumored that at least one royal duke could only be bathed when he was unconscious because he hated bathing so much. Brummell brought cleanliness and fastidiousness into fashion. And I’m sure a number of people breathed easier because of it!

Unfortunately, the Beau had two major failings: his love of gambling and his lack of skill at it. His mountain of debt forced him to flee for the Continent in 1816 before he could be arrested and thrown into Debtor’s Prison.

So, perhaps he was a bit of a bad boy after all.