Chapter II
The Early Years and the Continental Influence
If Chapter I was the birth of the Club, Chapter II may be considered its adolescence — a period of enthusiasm, experimentation, and the occasional international incident. Having established a home just off Pall Mall, the founding members soon discovered a pressing need for variety. This was not because they had tired of playing against each other (though some had – Lord “Cheater” Harris was finding it harder and harder to get a game), but because London society of the 1820s was obsessed with the idea of foreign travel as a means of collecting both unusual hobbies, unusual souvenirs and unusual illnesses.
It was Lord Basingthorpe — never one to shy away from adventure or a suspiciously aromatic cheese — who proposed that the Club should “test our mettle upon the Continent.” The term “tour” was used, though in truth the first such expedition in 1827 consisted of three matches, one half-match (abandoned due to a dispute over the correct interpretation of “through the hoop”), and a great many hours spent in cafés explaining the game to bemused locals.
The French Encounter
The Club’s earliest foray into European soil was a much-romanticised engagement with the Société Parisienne de Mail, an organisation that, as it turned out, did not actually exist until a fortnight after the Englishmen arrived in Paris. Undeterred, the Club cobbled together a match against a team of aristocratic dilettantes, half of whom believed they were being taught cricket.
The French style was, even in this embryonic stage, distinctly flamboyant: strokes were delivered with theatrical pauses, shots were applauded whether successful or not, and there was an alarming tendency to break for oysters between hoops. The English won narrowly, though later analysis suggested that the French had been unclear on the scoring system and believed they were winning. Two duels were fought during the game; as no substitutes were allowed, the Rev Bill Charston was forced to play on despite having sustained a severe blunderbuss injury to the upper chestal region in the second duel. This did little for his ongoing health, in fact some medical men present suggested it may have been the cause of him collapsing and sadly dying on the pitch, for which England was docked two points. A plaque in his memory was mooted, but never got made.
The Italian Episode
From Paris, the Club proceeded to Florence, lured by reports of a game called pallamaglio played in the Boboli Gardens. This “match” was, in fact, more of an afternoon promenade during which the players stopped periodically to push a ball with a stick while discussing sculpture. Nevertheless, the Club returned with what it declared to be an “Italian variation” of the sport — involving lighter balls, narrower mallets, and the occasional requirement to play from atop a garden bench.
It was during this trip that the infamous “Bench Incident” occurred, in which Captain Smythe, attempting a daring elevated shot, lost his footing and landed in the lap of the Marchesa di Montelupo. Contemporary accounts differ on whether this was accidental; what is certain is that the Marchesa sent Smythe a mallet with a ribbon the following Christmas and three years later they were married.
The German Campaign
No account of the early years of the English Pell Mell Club would be complete without mention of Herr Doktor von Hammerstein, the first foreign member of the Club. A man of impeccable moustache and impenetrable accent, von Hammerstein insisted on wearing a ceremonial Pickelhaube during play. His 1832 invitation to bring the Club to Berlin was accepted with enthusiasm, only to result in a match against what turned out to be a Prussian Guards team, who had misunderstood the rules and were not only mounted on large steeds, but were using rifles for mallets. They were also using live ammunition which led to the first and only time the English Pell Mell team has ever retired from the field of play, although in retrospect it seems only sensible – 7/8s of the team had been injured or killed. The captain Sir Hercules Patt shot himself later that day, so ashamed was he of the retirement and an incident that happened later involving a hoop, a cavalry horse, and the German Minister for Culture.
Continental Legacy
From these scattered European encounters, the English Pell Mell Club absorbed a patchwork of foreign influences. The French contributed the notion that style could trump substance (a philosophy the Bond Street Raveners would later embrace with gusto). The Italians introduced the idea that play could be improved by the presence of fine art and light refreshments. The Germans, unintentionally, reinforced the value of a robust insurance policy.
Back in London, these lessons were distilled into the evolving rules of the game — now allowing for optional flourish, mandatory pauses for conversation, and the codified ban on mounted play, a regulation still read aloud at the start of every annual meeting in memory of Berlin 1832.
