[-Vol.1-]
[-114-]
LONDON'S CLUBS FOR WOMEN
By SHEILA E. BRAINE
Not
very many years ago ladies' clubs were comparatively unknown; now-a-days, almost
every up-to-date London woman belongs to one, butterfly of fashion and working
bee alike. Dive into the back streets, or journey eastwards, and you find that
the same holds good of the toiling home-worker, the dress-maker, and the factory
girl. But what, it may be asked, do the members do at their clubs? What goes on
behind the portals of the magnificent Empress, the exclusive Green Park, as well
as the humbler doors of a Working Girls' Institute? This is what we are about to
investigate; we shall, in fact, follow some of the titled dames, the lecturers
and journalists, the tailoresses, and chorus-girls into their citadels, and see
what use they make of them.
A coroneted carriage turns into Dover Street, centre of
feminine Club-land. Lady A. is going to her club; will it be the Empress,
Sandringham, Sesame, Pioneer, or Green Park? They all lie within a stone's
throw. The carriage stops at the Empress; Lady A. passes through the heavy swing
doors, and is in the most luxurious ladies club in London. In the hall she finds
as visitor waiting for her, non-members being allowed no farther than this
without their hostesses. Together they [-115-] pass
on to the Lounge; the band is playing, and "five-o-clocker," as
the French drolly style tea, going forward. Footmen with tea-trays move swiftly
hither and thither; groups of fashionably attired men and women are standing or
sitting about, chatting and listening to the music. The Empress is a favourite rendezvous,
and on Sunday evening full to overflowing.
In one of the rooms, which might from its appearance be a salon at
Versailles, more groups and more conversation. In another two or three ladies
are writing letters, while others turn over papers and glance through magazines.
Her visitor having departed, Lady A. joins a couple of acquaintances going
upstairs to the corridor for a quiet cigarette. One of them is a country member
staying at the club with her maid. This morning she interviewed a cook here; at
one she had a small luncheon party. and to-night two relatives dine with her,
and all go on to a ball afterwards. Note that the members of these smart
West-End clubs belong mostly to that class of Society which is always going on
somewhere else.
Lady A. and the second of her two companions met the previous
afternoon at a Green Park concert, held in the French drawing-room. It was a
"smart function," as the Society journals have it, for no lady can be
a member of the Green Part of the Alexandra - where a man is never admitted -
who may not make her curtsey to Royalty. There is a musical or dramatic
entertainment at the Green Park every other Friday, during certain portions of
the year.
Lady A. leaves the Empress before the evening toilettes begin
to arrive, making the beautiful rooms look still more beautiful. There is a
constant ebb and flow of colour which goes on for hours, since the club does not
close until midnight. On her way home, Lady A. bethinks herself of an old
school-fellow of hers, who promised to give her a lesson in "Bridge."
She therefore calls at the Grosvenor Crescent Club and is promptly taken off to
the games room by her friend. "I suppose you know we have a billiard room,
too," says the latter, "and a band plays twice a week in the dining
room."
Back to Grafton Street once more. A lady, stylishly dressed,
and with a certain business-like air about her, is entering a house. Mrs. B. is
a member of the Pioneer Club, and has come to attend a committee meeting. It is
early yet, so she takes the letters waiting for her in the pigeon-hole [-116-]
bearing her number - every Pioneer has a number - and goes into the
library. Two ladies are reading books from the library to which the club
subscribes. A serious-looking girl in a pince-nez is consulting an
encyclopedia; a frivolous-looking one borrowing a novel to take home with her,
and putting twopence into a cash-box placed handy. Nobody speaks, for this is
the "silence" room. If you want to talk you can go downstairs to the
smoking room, or upstairs to the drawing room, where there are plenty of papers,
magazines, and comfortable arm-chairs.
A FRIDAY "AT HOME" AT THE WRITER'S CLUB.
It is the first Tuesday in the month, and Mrs. B. has invited two friends to the
musical "At Home," preceded by tea in the dining-room. When there is a
good Thursday evening debate, she never fails to be present. The Pioneers are
earnest, and have the courage of their convictions, so that subjects get well
thrashed out. Mrs. B. and her antagonist will dine amicably together at the club
dinner before the debate. Embryo orators exercise their powers of speech at the
"practice" debates; there is also a "Parliament." At distant
intervals the Pioneers give an evening party; occasionally, a fancy-dress one.
Mrs. B., an eminently clubable woman, belongs likewise to the Sesame, of which
her husband is a member. The Sesame, Bath, and Albemarle open their doors alike
to men and women.
Doctors, lecturers, teachers, women with diplomas and
degrees, congregate at the University Club, while
the journalist has her club - the Writers' - close to the
Strand. Here she can drop in at any hour of the day, write up her
"copy" in a quiet room, meet her friends, take a meal, or rest and
read the papers. The members sometimes give an evening party, while every Friday
afternoon they are "At Home" to their friends. These Friday teas are
very popular, and when a well-known authoress presides a large attendance may be
expected. For the rest, the Writers' us a useful, sociable little club, enabling
birds of a feather to flock together at least once a week.
To turn to another view of the picture; what do the working
women and factory girls do at their clubs? Apparently many things, both useful
and agreeable; for most of the clubs endeavour to combine instruction with
amusement. We say most, because the chief aim of the Rehearsal Club in Leicester
Square is to provide weary "theatrical" girls with rooms to rest in
and inexpensive meals.
[-117-] But
as to the others. Take a Jewish girl, for example. "Esther" is a
tailoress by trade, and helps her father to make dress coats year in, year out.
All day she works at the buttonholes and the felling; in the evening she goes to
the Jewish Working Girls' Club in Soho.
Perhaps she attends the drill in the big room on the ground floor; on Wednesday
she learns lace-making or takes cooking lessons. In the blue-papered class-room
at the top of the house all sorts of classes go on, and there is a pretty
library leading out of it. The girls learn dressmaking, millinery, reading,
writing, singing, chip-carving, basket-making; there is even a class for Hebrew.
Once in a way they hold a little exhibition, and sell their own productions.
In the matter of amusements, "Esther" does not fare
badly. Friday evening is, of course, a sacred one with her people; the club
festivities take place on Saturdays and Sundays. The girls dance, or perhaps
there is a debate; sometimes a lady makes herself responsible for a concert, and
brings her friends to help. Occasionally "Esther" and her mates get up
a variety entertainment among themselves, and sing and recite in a most spirited
manner. At Christmas they have a party for their little brothers and sisters.
Our typical maiden is English-born, but among her companions you will find
Germans, French, Poles, Russians and Hungarians.
The
club just described is for girls over twelve, and girls only; at Bethnal Green
there is one mainly composed of women members, most of them married. This
sometimes necessitates Herr Baby accompanying his mother to her club, but as a
rule the babies sleep through everything, even the club song chanted with
enthusiasm.
Every other Wednesday Mrs. Smith - a
good wide-spreading title - puts on her bonnet and steps down to the Board
School, the largest room of which building is converted for the nonce into her
club premises. Already a few early arrivals are playing dominoes at the centre [-118-]
table. But we should mention that this is the Cadogan Club - so named
from Lady Cadogan, its patroness. Sometimes her ladyship gives the members a
tea, and yonder hangs her portrait on the wall. Mrs. Smith and her companions
are mostly home-workers - tailoresses, boot machinists, umbrella coverers, box,
shirt, slipper and brush makers. One even, we are told, makes harness.
"Saddles, isn't it, Lizzie?" "No, miss, horse collars." For
sixteen years has this patient Lizzie done the two rows of stitching round these
said collars! No wonder that she and her fellow Cadoganites need a little
amusement once a fortnight!
A lady visitor plays a valse, and the livelier members are
soon whirling round the spacious room. Or a circle is formed, and songs and
recitations are the order of the day. On some nights they debate, and Mrs. Smith
and her fellow workers are quite au fait with all the questions affecting
their special industries. They pass resolutions and more than once have sent
deputations to the Home Secretary.
The pretty Honor Club in Fitzroy Square
gathers to itself the better-class working girls of the West-End. They
dance, they sing, they have a lady doctor to attend them, a gymnasium, a
refreshment-bar which they manage themselves, and a circulating library! The
whole house is theirs, and a fresh lady visitor comes every night to
superintend. Here is a new member, fourteen, and rather shy; she pays sixpence a
month, and her sister, over seventeen, eightpence. Notice the tall girl wearing
the Honor brooch, a sign that she has been in the club over three years. It is
Monday night, which means that members pay their subscriptions, consult the
doctor if necessary, take books out of the library, and dance. On Wednesday,
they play games, on Saturday they sing; Tuesday is "gym." night and
Thursday, oh wonderful Thursday is devoted to embroidery, poetry and the
mandoline!
In the East, at Stepney, the St. Mary's Working Girl's Club
is for girls employed in rope-work, tent-making, bottle-washing, etc., and with
but little joy in their toilsome, stunted lives. But at their club they dance,
and play games, besides learning sewing, an unknown art to many of them. Such
clubs have a wonderfully humanising effect upon the East-End lasses.
How far feminine Club-land will spread in the vast future who
shall say? For women, rich and poor, high and low, have learned what men found
out long ages ago, namely, that union means not only power but economy, and that
co-operation is a giant that can work wonders.
A CONCERT AT THE JEWISH WORKING GIRLS' CLUB, SOHO
George R. Sims (ed.), Living London, 1902