The Oyster and Parched-Pea Club
The ancient town of “Proud Preston,” in Lancashire, from the year 1771 to 1841, a period of seventy years, boasted its “Oyster and Parched-Pea Club.” It was at first limited to a dozen of the leading inhabitants, all of the same political party, and who now and then drank a Jacobite toast with a bumper. Its President was styled the Speaker. Among its staff of officers was one named Oystericus, whose duty it was to order and look after the oysters, which then came “by fleet” from London. There were also a Secretary, an Auditor, a Deputy Auditor, and a Poet Laureate or Rhymesmith, as he was generally termed; also the Cellarius, who had to provide port of the first quality; the Chaplain; the Surgeon-General, the Master of the Rolls (to look to the provision of bread-and-butter); the Swig-Master, whose title expresses his duty; Clerk of the Peas; a Minstrel, a Master of the Jewels, a Physician-in-Ordinary, &c. Among the Rules and Articles of the Club, were, “That a barrel of oysters be provided every Monday night during the winter season, at the equal expense of the members; to be opened exactly at half-past seven o’clock.” “Every member on having a son born, shall pay a gallon—for a daughter half-a-gallon—of port, to his brethren of the club, within a month of the birth of such child, at any public-house he shall choose.” Amongst the archives of the club is the following curious entry, which is not in a lady’s hand:—
“The ladies of the Toughey [? Toffy] Club were rather disappointed at not receiving, by the hands of the respectable messenger, dispatched by the still more respectable members of the Oyster Club, a few oysters. They are just sitting down, after the fatigues of the evening, and take the liberty of reminding the worthy members of the Oyster Club, that oysters were not made for man alone. The ladies have sent to the venerable president a small quantity of sweets [? pieces of Everton toffy] to be distributed, as he in his wisdom, shall think fit.”
In 1795 the club was threatened with a difficulty, owing, as stated by “Mr. Oystericus,” to the day of the wagon—laden with oysters—leaving London, having changed. Sometimes, owing to a long frost, or other accident, no oysters arrived, and then the club must have solaced itself with “parched peas” and “particular port.” Amongst the regalia of the club was a silver snuff-box, in the lid of which was set a piece of oak, part of the quarter-deck of Nelson’s ship Victory. The Rhymesmith’s effusions were laughable, as:—
“A something monastic appears among oysters,
For gregarious they live, yet they sleep in their cloisters;
’Tis observed, too, that oysters, when placed in their barrel,
Will never presume with their stations to quarrel.
From this let us learn what an oyster can tell us,
And we all shall be better and happier fellows.
Acquiesce in your stations, wherever you’ve got ’em;
Be not proud at the top, nor repine at the bottom;
But happiest they in the middle who live,
And have something to lend, and to spend, and to give.”
“The bard would fain exchange, alack!
For precious gold, his crown of laurel;
His sackbut for a butt of sack;
His vocal skill for oyster barrel!”
These lines are from an Ode in 1806:—
“Nelson has made the seas our own,
Then gulp your well-fed oysters down,
And give the French the shell.”