Note 45 — Chapter IX · THE BYROMS—KERSALL CELL—JOHN BYROM—THE LAUREATE OF THE JACOBITES—THE FATAL ’45.

“John Shaw’s” eventually assumed the character of an organised club, and after an uninterrupted career of a century and a half it still remains in a flourishing state, and is as convivial in its “green old age” as in the days when John Shaw cracked his whip, and with loud voice and imperative tone exclaimed, “Eight o’clock, gentlemen, eight o’clock,” and his serving maid, Molly, followed with her mop and bucket ready to expedite the movements of the loiterer, should the cracking of the whip have failed to “speed the parting guest.” The club has an official staff elected annually and with much mock formality, and what Dr. Johnson calls “obstreperous merriment,” and the members, who are true “Church and Queen” men, assemble once a month under the shadow of the “Mitre” to discuss punch and politics, and drink old wine, and the traditional old toasts, omitting, however, the very suggestive one of the King “over the water.” Among the most treasured relics in the possession of the club, and which now adorn the room where the members assemble, are the original portraits in oil of the autocratic and inflexible John and Molly Owen, his prime minister, and factotum—the Hebe of the house, and the veritable china bowl in which John brewed his seductive compound.