My Cultural Life - London

Once, most of the main titles were just a stone’s throw away. In those days, of course, ‘the print’ was still a powerful force and so ‘the Street of Shame’ was a hubbub of activity and gossip. ‘Rebuilt 1667’ is emblazoned on the lantern which hangs over the entrance. This is true. The place rose from the ashes of the Great Fire of 1666. Its predecessor, also a Cheshire Cheese, may have been blown up in efforts to staunch the inferno, which was halted just up Fleet Street, leaving to posterity one of London’s few pre-fire quarters. It is claimed that the original hostelry was built on the site of a Carmelite monastery and certainly the pub’s cellars are cavernous and medieval.

Dr Johnson lived just up the alley in Gough Square and was doubtless a regular patron of his local since it was his principle never to hazard a crossing of Fleet Street. He must have popped in here while he was working on his magnum opus, The Dictionary of the English Language. A seventh edition of the great tome is proudly displayed in a glass case on the first floor.

Although the ‘Cheese’ and some of its furnishings go back much further, it is probably the best surviving example of that great Victorian institution: the chop house. Dickens mentions such establishments frequently, so it is appropriate that he is one of the famous writers who have patronised this pub. In The Forsyte Saga, John Galsworthy mentions the great pies that were served here. They weighed up to 80lbs and contained steak, kidneys, oysters, larks, mushrooms and spices.

If you want another quote, here’s one from Piccadilly Jim by P.G.Wodehouse,

“’I’ve seen all of England’, she said. ‘I’ve seen Westminster Abbey’, she said. ‘I’ve seen Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament and His Majesty’s Theatre and the Savoy and the Cheshire Cheese.’”

Others famous topers include Oliver Goldsmith (the knocker on the front door of the Cheese supposedly came from his house), Henry Makepeace Thackeray, Mark Twain, Jack Dempsey, Teddy Roosevelt. and Arthur Conan Doyle.  In 1891, the Rhymers Club gathered there for the first time to read their poetry to each other. Most of its members are, at best, half-forgotten, but W.B. Yeats remains a famous name who remembered:

Poets with whom I learned my trade:
Companions of the Cheshire Cheese.

Another Rhymer, the Scottish poet, John Davidson, also celebrated the hostelry in verse.

This modern world so stiff and pale 
You leave behind you when you please
For long clay pipes and great old ale
And beefsteaks at the Cheshire Cheese.

Although the Club only lasted for about three years, it published two collections of its members’ poetry, selected by a committee of four.

For people who hate pubs to be tarted up or knocked about, the Cheese is the place: a haven of old dark wood, open fires and flagstones. The only thing missing is the sawdust that used to be sprinkled on the floor. Probably another triumph for Health and Safety.