What is now the gorgeous Holborn Restaurant was in those days the dingy Holborn Swimming-bath - a very gloomy and, truth to tell, a very dirty and smelly place of recreation. I remember once, being mad about swimming - an art which I had just acquired in the delicious Brill's Bath at Brighton - coming to the Holborn establishment full of pleasurable anticipation; and I remember, as soon as I had seen and - well, smelt the water into which I proposed plunging, putting on my jacket again, and sacrificing the shilling which I had paid for my bath. Later, the dirty water was drained off, the shabby dressing-boxes done away with, the bath covered with a flooring of springy boards, and the whole place painted and renovated, and an excellent band, under the direction of a Mr. Parker (who maintained his position for years), engaged. There, too, as principal master of the ceremonies, was a curious old fellow called Gourriet, who, with Signor Venafra - who used to spend his days at Davis's, the tobacconist's in the Quadrant - had for years been one of the leading ballerinos at Her Majesty's Theatre, and whose rapt enthusiasm in beating time to the music, or pantomimic extravagance in soothing any little dispute, was equally delicious. The Holborn Casino was a much quieter place of resort than its rival, and was frequented by a different class: there was some element of respectability among its female visitors, while among the men the genus "swell," which predominated at the other place, was here almost entirely absent, the ordinary attendants being young fellows from the neighbouring Inns of Court, medical students, Government clerks, with a sprinkling of the shopocracy.
Edmund
Yates, His Recollections and Experiences, 1885
[chapter on 1847-1852]
[-483-]
"Now," said the policeman, "I would hadvise you to make
the finish at the ' Casino,' in the 'Olborn, afore you go to your
hotel, sir, and then you may say you've seen the best of the
bad places of Lunnun. The Casino is hopen till one o'clock to-night, I think, and we'll just be in
time for the best dance."
We took a cab again, which dashed up Coventry street,
through Cranbourne street, into Long acre, and up Drury
Lane, past the old theatre of that name, and in a few minutes
we descended in the wide, open space of the Holborn, before
the entrance of the Casino, the fashionable dance-house of London. The street was lined with cabs, and policemen were
thick in the vicinity of the entrance, ordering the men and women just coming
out to pass on, and keep the street
clear, a duty which gained for them a great deal of abuse from
the intoxicated women, who did not want to pass on by any means. The entrance to this place is through a gaudy, gilded
vestibule and down a descent of four or five steps to a spacious marble floor, which was covered with dancers.
The whole interior was gilded, gold leaf and white predominating above all
other colors.
The band, as at the other places of evil resort, was placed in
[-484-] the farthest end gallery, and was an excellent one.
The
leader wore white kids and the musicians white vests, and the
crash of the instruments was almost deafening, filling the large
space with a wild and not unpleasing harmony. Attendants in evening dress were on the
floor, making up sets and soliciting the habitués of the place to dance with the female partners,
which were easily found for them. A high balcony ran
all round the hall, which is 100 feet by 75 in dimension, and
in the corners of the saloon, up and down stairs, were cafés and
refreshment bars, which were crowded within customers. The entrance to this place is only one
shilling, and the class of visitors is of a superior kind to those who go to any other dance-house in London.
The saloon was really a magnificent one, rich and tasteful in
its decoration, and the women were well and neatly dressed,
and very quiet and well-behaved in their manner. Every
woman wore nice gloves, high-heeled boots, and all of them
had the lace frill or ruff now prevalent in London around
their necks. They also wore charms and lockets and gold
watches, and every one was attended by a cavalier. The men
were smoking cigars and flirting, and a number of foreigners
were present and danced incessantly, just as they would at the Mabille or any
Continental garden. In fact, this is the only
place in London, with the exception of Cremorne Gardens,
that in any way approaches the mad gaiety of the Mabille.
Still, there is a certain English decorum observed here, and
any girl who would get drunk or lift her skirts too high would be expelled instantly by
the master of ceremonies, assisted by
the policemen who are to be found scattered all over the place.
Some of the girls will go up and ask for partners to dance with
them, and then, if the latter wish to give them liquor, - well and good, but they will not solicit it, because these women affect
the fashionable lady as much as their limited resources
will allow.
They are generally the mistresses of men of leisure, and when the season is at its height a great number of
men about town may be seen here, as spectators, who come [-485-]
from the clubs or the Houses of Parliament, bored by the ennui of the reading rooms at one
place, or the prosy speeches of
members of the other. Some of the men dance with cigars in
their mouths, and whirl around in such a wild manner as to
cause collision with the other couples. Occasionally you will see two girls waltzing, and men who have
sat too long at the
dinner-table will, once in an evening, get up together and
dance a "stag dance." But this is not encouraged by the
master of ceremonies, as the dancing of a pair of male bipeds
is not calculated to help the business of the place, and it is instantly suppressed, amid cheers and laughter.
The music strikes up for the last galop, and there is a rush
for partners; the balconies and alcoves and luxurious seats
and marble tables are deserted, and in a moment everything
is in a wild hurly-burly and a confusion and uproar; men and
women galloping and bounding and yelling to the right, and
to the left, and as the last crash of the big drum beats on the
ear the passages and doorways are thronged with the dancers, every man crying for a cab to take himself and partner
somewhere, perhaps they care not where - it is no matter; and now the place is in darkness, and
the policemen
having seen the last of the women leave the doorway, begin
their patrol duty, which will last until day breaks and the stars
fall from the London sky, telling them that they are relieved
from their night's watch.
The detective shakes hand with and leaves me, he to go
eastward to Temple Bar, and I to bed in a remote quarter of the
great Babylon, whose noises and turmoil are now hushed into
silence, excepting where a solitary street-walker, famishing
from hunger, or a drunken pedestrian bars the way, and makes the night resound with insane shouts.
Daniel Joseph Kirwan, Palace and Hovel : Phases of London Life, 1878
HOLBORN CASINO (9th S. xii, 127) - The present Holborn Restaurant has
absorbed the entire site of the old Casino. In the forties it was a swimming
bath, but as a swimming bath did not pay in winter, the proprietors had the
water drained off and converted the empty bath into a dancing saloon. This
proved a profitable venture, notwithstanding the defects of bad ventilation and
awkward means of access. The proprietors got over the difficulties by putting in
a new floor at a higher level and improving the approaches. The swimming bath
was, therefore, done away with entirely. S.P.E.S.
"National Assembly Rooms, 218, High Holborn - The most
spacious and brilliantly decorated Ball Room and the best Band in London. Open
for Concert and Dancing every Evening. Musical Director, Mr. W.M. Packer. Open
at Half-past Eight; close at Twelve. Admission throughout, One Shilling." -
'Era Almanack for 1869'
The Holborn Restaurant is built on the same site, and its
number is still 218. For references to the Casino, see Mayhew's 'London
Labour and the London Poor,' iv. (1862), 219, 220.
Notes and Queries, 1903