CHAPTER VIII

WAYSIDE INNS AND ALEHOUSES

We have shown in previous chapters how the old English inn grew up almost always under some local authority—either the lord of the manor, the monastery, or the parish—and its conduct was regulated by legal enactments from the reign of Henry II onwards. The alehouse, on the contrary, might conduct its business as its owner pleased, subject only to the natural laws of supply and demand. Every householder was free to brew either for his own consumption or for sale, the one condition being that his liquor was wholesome and good. Among the crimes that incurred the punishment of the ducking-stool in the city of Chester during Saxon times was that of brewing bad beer.

In every manor there was held annually the assize of bread and ale, the two staple articles of diet which it was essential should be pure and of good quality. “Bread, the staff of life, and beer life itself,” not unknown as a motto on the signboards, is a saying thathas come down to us from a prehistoric period. And modern science, as it seems, is inclined to endorse the maxim. Good old-fashioned wheaten and rye bread, made from the whole flour from which only the coarser brans had been sifted, built up the stamina of our forefathers. Their chief drink was ale brewed from barley or oaten malt. The small proportion of alcohol served as a vehicle for the organic phosphates necessary for the sustenance of strong nerves, while the ferment of the malt helped to digest the starch granules in the bread. Bread and ale are still the main diet of our labouring classes—but alas! stale, finely-sifted flour contains a very poor allowance of gluten, and chemically produced saccharine is destitute of phosphates. O, that our modern legislators would revive the assize of bread and ale!

InArnold’s Chronicle, published by Pynson about 1521, the following receipt for making beer is given: “Ten quarters of malt, two quarters of wheat, two quarters of oats and eleven poundes of hoppys, to make eleven barrels of single beer.” Hops only came into use about the reign of Henry VII; previously ivy berries, heath or spice had been used as a flavouring for ale. Leonard Maskall,of Plumpton, a writer on gardening in the reign of Henry VIII, has the credit of acclimatising the hop-plant. He is also said to have first introduced carp in the moat at Plumpton Place. Hence the rhyme of which many versions are given:

“Hops, heresy, carp and beer,Came into England all in one year.”

However, hops are mentioned as an adulterant in ale in a statute of Henry VI; and about the same time mention of beer occurs in the accounts of Syon Nunnery, which were kept in English.

Every inn, large or small, once possessed its own brewhouse, and although wholesale breweries were established about the time of the Flemish immigration, at the end of the fourteenth century, home-brewed ale was commonly on draught fifty or sixty years ago. TheWhite Horseat Pleshy, that village that boasts of knowing neither a teetotaller nor a drunkard, relied entirely on its home-brewed liquors up to within the last ten years, and the apparatus wherein they were prepared remains for the student of old methods to examine.

Home-brewed ale is still more commonly to be met with in some districts than manysuppose. Even in the neighbourhood of the greatest brewery town in the world, Burton-on-Trent, there are small inns which rely upon their own brewing for the best of their ale. There is a very old brewhouse at Derby, at theNottingham Castle Inn, into which any passer-by may step from the street and see, twice a week, a huge cauldron containing about a hundred and twenty gallons, bubbling and foaming in the corner. This brewhouse dates from the sixteenth century, and is oneof the oldest buildings in the town; theDolphin, whose licence dates from 1530, being another and perhaps older inn in the same neighbourhood.

White Horse, Pleshy

A legion of brewers are named in Domesday Book, mostly women, and manorial assizes show a preponderance of the fairer sex. The price of bread and ale was fixed by statute in Henry III’s reign, and it was the business of the Ale-tester to see that the measures were of standard capacity and stamped with some recognized official mark. Alehouses abounded everywhere, known by a long pole surmounted by a tuft of foliage. An Act of 1375 regulates the length of the ale-stake at not more than seven feet over the public way. The poles had a tendency to become over long to the deterioration of the timber structures from which they depended, as well as danger to travellers passing on horseback. At Guildford, and some other cloth centres, the alehouses were required to exhibit a woolpack for a sign.

These alehouses were of all sorts and sizes. There was the humble hedgeside cottage, looking like a mere sentry-box, illustrated in the fourteenth century MS.[9], where a hermitis being entertained by an alewife with a very large beer jug; or the little alehouse on the Watling Street, somewhere near Rainham, where Chaucer’s Pardoner dismounted to

“Drynke and byten on a cake”

before commencing his tale; or the establishment by Leatherhead Bridge, where Elinour Rummyng drove such a thriving trade, immortalised by the poet Skelton. Some of these larger alehouses were a cause of anxiety to well-disposed people, and no doubt the Church Houses were partly instituted with the idea of inducing the faithful to spend their time in a less disreputable manner. All kinds of bad characters resorted to the alehouse. Piers Plowman gives us a lurid picture of what went on there. How the glutton going to be shriven met the alewife and was induced to spend the afternoon and evening with

“Tymme the tynkere and tweyne of his prentisHikke the hakeneyman and Hughe the nedeler,Clarice of cokkeslane, and the clerke of the ChercheDawe the dykere and a doziene other;Sir Piers of Pridie and Peronelle of Flanders,A ribidour, a ratonere, a rakyer of Chepe,A ropere, a redynkyng, and Rose the disheres,Gofrey of Garlekehithe, and Gryfin the Walshe,And upholderes an hepe.”

They drink deeply, joke coarsely and quarrels ensue.

Finally the glutton is hopelessly intoxicated.

“He myghte neither steppe ne stande, er his staffe hadde;And thanne gan he go, liche a glewmannes biche,Somme tyme aside, and somme tyme arrere,As who-so leyth lynes for to lache foules.”

His wife and maid carry him home between them and he lies helpless through Saturday and Sunday, waking in bitter repentance at having missed his duties.[10]

From Skelton we learn how women came to pledge their wedding rings and husbands’ clothes

“Because the ale is good.”

Hence the necessity for an Act in Henry VII’s reign which empowered justices to close alehouses notorious for bad conduct, and later, the first Licensing Act of 1552, requiring every alehouse-keeper to obtain the licence of two justices, and regulating the manner in which the business is to be carried on. By an Act of 1627, a fine of twenty-one shillings, or in default a whipping, was inflicted on the keepers of unlicensed alehouses, and on a second conviction imprisonment for one month. But none of these measures were enforced throughout the country, and they were easilyevaded. Anyone was still free to sell ale in booths at fair time, and many trades had by custom the privilege to sell ale as a part of their business: for example, barbers and blacksmiths, whose customers required entertainment while waiting their turn. Two centuries after the first Licensing Act, the nation was still unconvinced on the subject of free trade in liquor. In a report on an inquiry made by Justices of the Peace for the County of Middlesex in 1736, it was shown that within the limits of Westminster, Holborn, The Tower and Finsbury (exclusive of London and Southwark), there were no less than 2,105 unlicensed houses. Spirits were retailed by above eighty other trades, particularly chandlers, weavers, tobacconists, shoemakers, carpenters, barbers, tailors, dyers, etc.

Barbers’ shops were once resorted to by idlers, in order to pass away their time, and a system of forfeits prevailed, nominally to enforce order, but in practice to promote the sale of drink. They are referred to in “Measure for Measure.”

“Laws for all faults,But laws so countenanced that the strong statutesStand like the forfeits in a barber’s shopAs much in mock as mark.”

Dr. Kenrick professes to have copied the following list of forfeits in a shop near Northallerton:

“Rules for Seemly BehaviourFirst come, first served—then come not late;And when arrived keep your state;For he who from these rules shall swerveMust pay the forfeits—so observe.1.Who enters here with boots and spurs,Must keep his nook; for if he stirs,And gives with armed heel a kick,A pint he pays for every prick.2.Who rudely takes another’s turn,A forfeit mug may manners learn.3.Who reverentless shall swear or curse,Must lug seven farthings from his purse.4.Who checks the barber in his tale,Must pay for each a pot of ale.5.Who will or cannot miss his hatWhile trimming, pays a pint for that.6.And he who can or will not pay,Shall hence be sent half trimm’d away,For will he, nill he, if in fault,He forfeit must in meal or malt.But mark who is already in drink,The cannikin must never clink.”

The Chequers, Doddington

As the restrictions on travelling gradually disappeared many of the alehouses developed into inns. As early as 1349, a statute of Edward III, requiring those who entertained travellers to be content with moderate prices, recognizes the class ofHerbergers[11]or keepers of unlicensed hostelries. And these inns as a class are deserving of close study from the difficult problem of determining their exact age. Some of them may have existed as alehouses during the Saxon period; some may even stand on the sites of Romantabernae.

The oldest of all inn signs of this class is theChequers, found throughout England, but especially in the neighbourhood of old Roman roads. This sign is found on many houses at Pompeii, and was throughout Europe the common indication of a money-changer’s office. Hence our Court of the Exchequer, which concerned itself with the national funds and their collection. The chess-board was the most primitive form of ready reckoner; and as the innkeeper was the person best qualified to act as money-changer he readily undertook the business. Small tradesmenstill send their assistants to the public-house when they require to change a sovereign. Many heraldic shields are painted with checks, and Brand, in his “Popular Antiquities,” suggested that the Chequers represent the coat of arms of the Earls of Warrenne, on the supposition that a member of this family in the reign of Edward IV possessed the exclusive right of granting licences. It is absolutely certain that no such licence was ever authorised. Nothing of the kind was ever attempted before Sir Giles Mompesson in the reign of James I; but, of course, some “chequers” may possibly have a heraldic origin.

The Chequers, Redbourne

Chaucer’s pilgrims put up at theChequers on the Hope(i.e., on the Hoop) at Canterbury,and part of this inn still remains near the Cathedral gate. There was also aChequers Innat St. Albans, but it has now ceased to exist. Either may have stood on the sites of Roman inns; but with these as with the thatchedChequerson the Watling Street, near Redbourne, or theChequersat Loose or Doddington, speculation is vain. Like the needy knife-grinder, whose breeches were so woefully torn during his drinking bout at an inn bearing the same name: “Story? God bless you, I have none to tell, sir!” is the universal answer to all our inquiries for any historical particulars beyond a century or two back.

Wayside inns needed no licence and were usually carried on by a hosteller who combined the occupation with that of farmer or tradesman of some kind. Where any old leases exist they are described merely as tenements or farms. Thus theDorset Armsat Withyham, a very picturesque old shingled and barge-boarded inn, appears as “Somers’ Farm.” Only by accident do we find the name of one of the tenants, William Pigott, on a list of Sussex tavern-keepers in the year 1636.

The Three Horseshoes near Papworth Everard

When the sign of theThree Horseshoesoccurs at the end of a rough difficult stretch of road during which a horse would often losea shoe, it is probable that the inn grew up side by side with a blacksmith’s business, even when the smithy no longer exists. In a very lonely and exposed situation on the Ermine Street, where the road to St. Ives crosses near Papworth Everard, there is a thatched inn bearing this sign and also known asKisby’s Hut. At Lickfold, about six miles from Haslemere, almost under the shadow of Black Down, the highest hill in Sussex, there is a cosy half-timberedThree Horseshoes, which has come down to our time practically unaltered since the day of its erection in 1642, and it is well worth examination. The roads around it are liable to be flooded, and it is a likely place for waggoners to pull up for repairs. But when disentangling the riddlesof local history, we must not be led astray with obvious explanations. Many old coats of arms contain the three horseshoes. Indeed there is one inn on a manor once belonging to the Shelleys, where possibly the forgotten shield of the older Kentish branch of the family—the three escallops—has been repainted as three horseshoes.

The Horseshoes, Lickfold

ThePloughandHarroware both primitive emblems, and agricultural signs such as these point to a very high antiquity. ThePloughat Kingsbury is supposed to be more than eight hundred years old.

At the Upper Dicker in Sussex there is an inn called thePlough, which is worth visiting by motorists on their way to theStaratAlfriston, especially as it will enable them to get a glimpse of Michelham Priory on an island in the Cuckmere close by. The tap-room of this inn has a generously-planned fireplace with an ancient fireback and dogs. Up till quite recently it was the custom to keep a fire constantly burning, and in the hottest weather the warmth of this fire was far from unwelcome owing to the thickness of the outer walls. This tradition of the ever-burning fire is a curious one, found in remote districts, and pointing to a time when the public-house was necessarily resorted to for purposes of this kind. At theChequers Inn, Slapestones, near Osmotherly, in Yorkshire, the hearth-fire has been burning uninterruptedly for at least a hundred and thirty years.

Some inns now known as theShipwere possibly at one time the “Sheep,” as will be readily understood by those acquainted with rustic dialect.Shepherd and Crook,Load of Hay,Woodman, are all to be found in rural districts throughout England. TheWheatsheaf, whether it surmounts a fine old coaching house in a market town, or a little wayside inn far from the madding crowd, reminds us that we once could boast of the finest wheatculture in the world; while theHarvest Homepleasantly recalls the merry-making which concluded the ingathering of the crops.

In some country villages there are a very large number of small inns close together, perhaps three in a row. At Steeple Ashton, in Oxfordshire, there are thirteen, and at East Ilsley, in Berkshire, nearly as many to a population of about five hundred. The street seems almost to consist of public-houses. But it would be quite wrong to suppose that the inhabitants of these districts are unduly given to convivial habits. The reports of the petty sessions show that drunkenness is exceedingly rare. In Steeple Ashton division no charge of drunkenness has been heard for the past six years. Such villages are decayed market towns, which become important at the time of their periodical sheep fairs, when an army of graziers and shepherds from the distant downs must find board and lodging. For a week these inns are crowded with dealers in velveteen jackets, and grizzled veterans clad in those blue smock coats and slouched hats, which were once the universal dress of village labourers, with a shaggy bob-tail dog under every chair. When fair-time is over they are quite deserted.

HISTORIC SIGNS AND HISTORIC INNS

“The Greeks honoured their great men and successful commanders by erecting statues to them,” remarks Jacob Larwood; “modern nations make the portraits of their celebrities serve as signs for public-houses.”[12]Certainly it would be possible to make the signboards on the inns serve as texts for a complete history of England. There was once even aCæsar’s Headin Great Palace Yard; and King Alfred and Canute are still commemorated at Wantage and at Southampton; while theKing Edgar Innat Chester, represents on its sign that monarch being rowed in a wherry down the river Dee by eight tributary kings. But for authentic and ancient historical signs we must not refer to any earlier period than the reign of Edward III, when inns began to be built in large numbers.

ManyRed Lioninns date from this reign. The red lion was the badge of John of Gaunt,married to Constance, daughter of Don Pedro the Cruel, King of Leon and Castille. On the other hand, John of Gaunt was the leader of an unpopular and reactionary party, not likely to commend itself to the innkeeper. TheRed Lionat Wingham, containing an oldcourt-room and some curious and beautifully carved oaken beams, ceilings and kings-posts, is declared by experts to date from 1320. In this case it is more probable that the red lion of Scotland, conquered by Edward I, is commemorated. A landlord of theRed Lionat Sittingbourne, in 1820, advertised his establishment as “Remarkable for an entertainment made by Mr. John Norwood for King Henry V, as he returned from the Battle of Agincourt, in France, in the year 1415, the whole amounting to no more than nine shillings and ninepence, wine being at that time only a penny a pint, and all other things proportionately cheap.” TheRed Lionat Speldhurst, near Tunbridge Wells, was discovered by the investigations of the late Mr. Morris in the Inland Revenue to have possessed a licence in 1415.

Red Lion, Wingham

Not allRed Lioninns, however, date from the fourteenth century, for this was also said to be the favourite badge of Cardinal Wolsey. At Hampton-on-Thames theRed Lioncame into existence when that great statesman was building Hampton Court Palace, and served to lodge the better class of craftsmen engaged in the work. After being for centuries a favourite meeting-place for the Royal Chase,it became a resort for literary and dramatic folk, Dryden, Pope, Colley Cibber, Addison, Quinn, and Kitty Clive being among the names associated with the house. In the early part of the nineteenth century it was famous for its tulip feasts which drew the tulip fanciers of the world to Hampton. In 1908 the charming old Tudor structure was condemned to make way for a street-widening scheme, and its last appearance was as the background to a cinematograph picture, in which the house suddenly burst into flames, frenzied occupants appeared at the windows, the heroes of the local fire brigade flew to the rescue in the nick of time, and the fire was put out in the most approved manner.

At Walsingham there is a large inn containing remains of fourteenth-century work, called theBlack Lion. Perhaps it takes its name from the arms of Queen Philippa, of Hainault, who came hither with her husband, Edward III, in 1361, to offer thanks for the happy conclusion of the French Wars after the treaty of Bretigny. But bothBlack LionandGolden Lionmay occasionally refer to the lions of Flanders and be marks of the great immigration of Flemish weavers, ironfoundersand brewers during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

The Swan, Sutton Valence

TheSwanwas a favourite emblem with many of our kings, its first mention being in the “Vow of the Swan,” when Edward I swore to take vengeance on Scotland for the murder of Comyn. On the signboards it must generally be ascribed to Henry IV. With Henry V and VI, the antelope is the heraldic emblem; there is an old half-timberedAntelopeopposite the Market House atGodalming, but it has recently been re-named theWhite Hart. At Bristol and at Guildford areWhite Lioninns, probably in honour of Edward IV, whose arms have for supporters theWhite Lionand theBlack Bullof the house of Clarence.

Richard III reigned for too short a span to provide us with manyWhite Boars, and the few that existed hastened after his death to change their names to that of theBlue Boar; a coat of blue paint was a cheap way of converting theWhite Boarof the fallen monarch into theBlue Boarof the Earl of Oxford, whose influence had contributed very largely to place Henry Tudor on the throne. It was at theBlue Boarat Leicester, that Richard III slept just before the battle of Bosworth. A large richly carved and gilded four-post bedstead was long preserved there and shown to sightseers as the bed which he occupied. In the time of Elizabeth, a Mr. Clarke, who kept the house, accidentally discovered a huge store of gold coins of the reign of Richard III, underneath the planks of the bedstead. He concealed his good fortune and thus from a poor condition he became rich, but this ill-gotten wealth brought a curse in its train. A maid-servant plotted with seven ruffians torob the inn. Mrs. Clarke, interrupting them at their work, was strangled by the maid-servant, who was sentenced to be drawn and burnt, and her seven accomplices were hanged in the Market Place at Leicester in 1613.

Another sign which disappeared utterly after the Battle of Bosworth, was theWhite Rose; but theRed Rose of Lancasteris not uncommon at the present time in the County Palatine. TheRose and Crown, orRose and Portcullis, are the royal signs of Henry VII’s reign. But as theRosewas in mediæval times regarded as an emblem of Our Lady, “Rosa Mystica,” besides being a national emblem, the numerousRoseinns must not be attributed to this period without more positive historical evidence. Such doubts are not likely to arise with regard to theKing’s Head, a sign nearly always adorned with a lifelike portrait of bluff King Harry. Many of these houses are old monastic or collegiate property, whose lessees were anxious by the change of sign, to acknowledge their acceptance of the situation. It is not necessary to fare a long distance from town to find an oldKing’s Head. In the village of Roehampton, a short mile from Putney, the much married monarchmay still be recognized on the battered, faded signboard hanging over an obelisk-shaped post in front of the long low inn, faced with shingles. Within the house are many quaint low-ceilinged rooms and some curious relics.

King’s Head, Roehampton

“Good Queen Bess,” either by portrait or bust, is associated with theQueen’s Head, although in this case painter or modeller had to be careful, as the Virgin Queen was exceedingly particular. If her effigy proved to beuncomely, or not lifelike in her opinion, it was liable to destruction and the perpetrator to suffer from her serious displeasure. A proclamation of 1563, complains that “a grete number of her loving subjects are much greved and to take grete offence with the errors and deformities allredy committed by sondry persons in this behalf,” and orders that means be taken to “prohibit the shewing and publication of such as are apparently deformed, until they may be reformed which are reformable.” Many of theQueen’s Headinns may owe their origin to Sir Walter Raleigh, who, in the thirtieth year of that reign obtained a patent “to make licence for keeping of taverns and retailing of wines through England.” TheQueen’s Headat Islington, a noble structure with an elaborately-carved front and richly ornamented ceilings, has always been connected traditionally with Sir Walter. Either in this house, or at theOld Pied Bullclose by, occurred that amusing episode in the early history of tobacco smoking. His servant, happening to be carrying in a pail of water, observed to his horror clouds of smoke issuing from Raleigh’s mouth, and imagining him to be on fire, with admirable presence of mind poured the liquid in a deluge over theknight.[13]Both inns have unfortunately been pulled down.

With James I, the arms of England and Scotland were united, and the Unicorn appears for the first time. There are manyUnicorninns in the South of England; but the fabulous beast was also a sign used by apothecaries, possibly because the horn (really that of the Narwhal) was supposed to detect the presence of poison. Albertus Magnus mentions (without endorsing) a belief current in his time that knife-handles made of this substance would sweat, if poison was brought into the room. Fuller was more credulous.

Charles I took refuge at theUnicorn Innat Weobly, in Herefordshire, on September 5th, 1645, and this inn was afterwards called theCrown. It is now a private house.

Royal Oaksare everywhere in memory of the Boscobel Oak, and the accession of Charles II.Oliver Cromwell, who had usurped theRose and Crownin High Street, Knightsbridge, was dethroned once more to make room for the reinstatement of the old sign. Coming nearer to our own time theBrunswickinns hail the succession of the house of Brunswick to the English Crown. George III and George IV appear occasionally, but not so frequently as William IV, our Sailor King. Queen Victoria’s popularity is shown by the hundreds ofVictoria,Island Queen,EmpressandJubileeinns. Since the coronation of our late gracious sovereign, King Edward VII, the duties of the justices have involved the closing of old houses rather than the licensing of new ones. So that it is unlikely that future generations will be able to realise the esteem and regard of his subjects by any large number ofEdward VIIinns. However, there will be a considerable array ofRoyal AlbertsandPrince of Walessignboards to indicate this nation’s good feeling towards him when he was heir apparent to the throne; the same remark will apply with regard to thePrincess AlexandraandRose of Denmark.

We have by no means exhausted the list of royal emblems. SomeFalconinns may have taken their title from the badge of the Dukes of York; but this was not invariably the case, when in districts where hawking was a popular sport. TheFalcon Hotel, near Clapham Junction, owes its name to the river Falcon, once a considerable stream, but nowonly permitted to flow through Battersea underground. The “Gun” was a Tudor sign, and theGun Innat Dorking, evidently dates from the reign of Edward VI. Edward III quartered the French arms with the English; the practice was continued by his successors and may have originated theFleur de LisorFlower de Luceinns, where none of the local families bear this charge on their shields. Mention of theFleur de Lisat Faversham is the one piece of local colouring in the “Tragedy of Arden of Faversham,” formerly attributed to Shakespeare. TheThree Frogs, near Wokingham, is, perhaps, a version of the arms of France; before theentente cordialeit used to be a theory widely current among patriotic Britons that thefleur de lisreally was intended for a heraldic representation of a frog.

Occasionally members of noble families have attained to such distinction that their crests have been utilized for inn signs far beyond the limits of their estates. TheBear and Ragged Staffwas the crest of the Earls of Warwick; but it attained to notoriety after its adoption by the rapacious Dudleys. Robert Dudley, afterwards Duke of Northumberland, discarded the Green Lion, his ownemblem, for the Bear and Ragged Staff of his mother, the last heiress of the Warwick family. His fourth son, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, a favourite of Queen Elizabeth, inherited the manor at Cumnor, an old possession of Abingdon Abbey. TheBear and Ragged Staffat Cumnor, and its landlord at that period, Giles Gosling, are described in Sir Walter Scott’s novel, “Kenilworth,” wherein is also related the tragic fate of Dudley’s unhappy countess, Amy Robsart. Old pictures show this inn down to the middle of the last century as retaining its thatched roof and rustic primitive appearance. On the signboard was the name of the licensee, with the addition, “late Giles Gosling.”

TheEagle and Childwas the crest of the Earls of Derby, theMaiden Head, of the Dukes of Buckingham, and theWhite Bear, that of the Earls of Kent. A still more frequent sign in the home counties, theGrasshopper, shows the popularity of the great Sir Thomas Gresham, to whom we owe the Royal Exchange and many other great City institutions. Sir Christopher Hatton and Sir Francis Walsingham, both Elizabethan statesmen of eminence, gave us respectively theHindand theTiger’s Head. For theSaracen’sHeadthere will be various claimants, according to locality, so many crusaders having adopted this charge; but a few innkeepers of Lollard sympathies possibly adopted the sign out of compliment to Sir John Oldcastle. Bagford informs us that thePelicanwas the badge of Lord Cromwell, the despoiler of monasteries, who also stole this emblem from the Church. At Speen, near Newbury, there was a coaching inn on the Bath Road, which provoked an epigram:

“The famous house at Speenhamland,That stands upon the hill,May well be called the Pelican,From its enormous bill.”

Coming to the ballad heroes,Guy of Warwickand theDun Cowslain by him are found all through the Midlands; but they cannot compare for popularity withRobin Hood, who is usually accompanied byLittle Johnon the signboard. This is not a result of the modern taste for romantic literature. TheRobin Hoodis mentioned as a common alehouse sign by Samuel Rowlands in “Martin Mark-all, Beadle of Bridewell,” published in 1610. All the world loved Robin Hood, and cherished his memory as a jolly good-natured outlaw, manly and fearless, generous to the poor and careful for the honour of womenkind.Robin Hood alone among the revolutionary spirits of the Middle Ages has a place on the signboards, although Wat Tyler is remembered in connection with theCrown Innat Dartford, andJack Straw’s Castlewas until lately a great resort for holiday-makers on Hampstead Heath.King James and the Tinkerinn at Enfield, which claims on doubtful authority to be over a thousand years old, is associated with another ballad story of which there are many versions, such as “King Henry and the Miller of Mansfield,” or “King John and the Miller of Charlton.” In one of these tales our old friend, the Vicar of Bray, was dining at theBearat Maidenhead with some friends. The party had taxed all the resources of the hotel, and when a stranger tired and hungry asked for refreshments, the vicar only admitted him to table very grudgingly. At the end of the meal the stranger discovered that he had left his purse behind him, and was roundly abused by the dignitary. However, his curate pleaded that the merry quips and anecdotes of the guest deserved consideration; he had proved himself a good fellow and had earned his dinner. At this moment some members of the royal staff enter, and the guest turns outto be nothing less than his Majesty James I. So the churlish vicar undergoes much discomfiture, and the curate receives the reward of high preferment.

Outbursts of patriotism are a feature on the signboards. Great victories of the British forces by land and sea, and the great military and naval heroes have all been commemorated in their turn, beginning with theCrispin and Crispinian, which greeted the troops of Henry V, as they returned along the old Watling Street, after Agincourt (which was fought on the feast day of these twin saints).

“Crispin Crispian shall never go byFrom this day to the ending of the world,But we in it shall be remembered.”“Henry V,” IV, 3.

TheBull and Mouthis said to be a corruption of Boulogne Mouth, captured by Henry VIII.Bull and Gatemay possibly be a similar vulgarism for Boulogne Gate. We might draw up a complete sequence of great battles fought and fortresses taken during the last three centuries, but those most frequently met with areGibraltar,Waterloo,Battle of the Nile, andTrafalgar. Admirals range fromBlaketoNapier, generals fromMarlboroughtoWolseley. Not one of them is forgotten, thoughWellington,NelsonandKeppelcanprobably claim the largest number of adherents. TheMarquis of Granby, almost forgotten by the ordinary reader of history, enjoyed a remarkable popularity in his own day, if we are to judge by the number of portraits of this high-spirited and courageous nobleman which hang outside public-houses. The original of Mr. Tony Weller’sMarquis of Granbyis, we believe, the one at Epsom, “Quite a model of a roadside public-house of the better class—just large enough to be convenient, and small enough to be snug.” The sign portrayed “the head and shoulders of a gentleman with an apoplectic countenance, in a red coat with blue facings, and a touch of the same blue over his three-cornered hat, for a sky. Over that again were a pair of flags; beneath the last button of his coat were a couple of cannon; and the whole formed an expressive and undoubted likeness of the Marquis of Granby of glorious memory.”

But the heart of the nation was most deeply touched by the mingled triumph and pathos at Trafalgar.Lord Nelson,Victory, andTrafalgar, greet us on every high road that leads down to the sea, in the neighbourhood of every harbour or dock, and beside the quays on every navigable river. And it issurprising how many of theseNelsoninns are buildings three or four centuries old, showing that the innkeeper was prepared to sacrifice the sign under which he had hitherto done business and trusted to make a new reputation under the ægis of the popular hero. We have discovered severalNelsoninns of thistype in Kent, though none which we recall with more pleasure than the quaint many-gabled wooden structure with a considerable list to starboard on the high path by the riverside at Maidstone. Its ways are homely but hearty; the same family have remained in possession for a period rapidly approaching the century; and almost every article of furniture is old-fashioned and curious.

The Nelson, Maidstone

The public-house has been described as “the forum of the English.” We may sneer at pot-house politics, but it is only in the tavern, the haven of free speech, that the burning questions of the day can be discussed with freedom and sincerity. Washington Irving called the inn “the temple of true liberty.” ThePunch Bowlwas a Whig sign, because that party preferred that beverage (possibly because it was favoured by Fox), whereas the Tories remained faithful to old-fashioned drinks like claret and sack. Most of the political idols obtaining a recognition over the tavern door have been champions of reform, such asJohn Wilkes,Sir Francis Burdett,Palmerston, andGladstone. Traditionally the innkeeper was strongly inclined to this side until the bitter attacks of a section of the Liberal party on his business and veryexistence forced him in self-protection into alliance with modern conservatism.

Little interesting fragments of local history are sometimes recorded on the signboards. For instance, in High Street, South Norwood, there are three public-houses in succession, theShip,Jolly Sailor, andAlbion. But for these we might forget that the Croydon Canal once ran through this district with a wharf for unloading barges. TheSloop Inn, at Blackhouse, in Sussex, dates from the time when the river Ouse was navigable as far as Lindfield. At the foot of Gipsy Hill is theGipsy Queen, named after Margaret Finch, who ruled over the encampment of nomads in the forest and told fortunes to all comers. She died in 1760, at the age of 109, and was buried in Beckenham Churchyard. Owing to her constant habit of sitting with her chin resting on her knees, it was necessary to employ a deep square box in place of an ordinary coffin for her interment. Local worthies are not very frequent; but John Winchcombe, the famous clothier of Newbury, “the most considerable clothier that England ever had,” is honoured at intervals along the Bath Road asJack of Newbury.General Wolfe, unlike the prophets, finds special remembrancein his own birthplace, Westerham; but Sir Walter Raleigh has been quite overlooked at Mitcham, in spite of the fact that he was the founder of its leading manufacture. The inhabitants of Islington are more grateful toSir Hugh Middletonfor providing them with the New River, and more than one house bearing this sign exists in the district.

Foreign princes have occasionally attained the distinction of tavern popularity, but none so frequently asFrederick the Great, whose portrait over the inspiring words “The Glorious Protestant Hero,” was painted on many a signboard after the battle of Rosbach, and theKing of Prussiais still a familiar name.Garibaldiis an instance of British sympathy with the political aspirations of a foreign people. Many English adventurers joined in the struggles of the young Italian nation, and its principal hero became for the time a popular idol of the very first order. The length to which a section of the community were led in their worship of the red-shirted revolutionist is satirised happily in Mortimer Collins’ “Village Comedy,” wherein the local publican constantly cites “Old Garry” as the proper person to appeal to in deciding delicate questions of etiquette and morality.

TheAnchorat Liphook, on the old Portsmouth road, was a favourite resort of Edward II, when hunting in Woolmer Forest, and Queen Anne when visiting the Staghunt also put up here. To this inn came Samuel Pepys in 1668, “exceeding tremulous about highwaymen,” having missed his way to Guildford while coming over Hindhead. Another inn which could many a tale unfold, if walls had tongues as well as ears, is theBullat Coventry. Half a dozen conspiracies have been hatched under its spreading gables. Henry VII made it his headquarters before the Battle of Bosworth. Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned here for a short time; and it was the first meeting-place for the devisers of Gunpowder Plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament.

A handsomely-panelled and pilastered room in theCrown and Treatyat Uxbridge, is shown to visitors as part of the hall in which took place those six months of fruitless negotiations between King and Parliament in 1644, which ended in sealing the fate of the monarchy. We have not been able to trace the particular establishment, but it is said that an alehouse had its share in accomplishing the restoration of Charles II. It appearsthat a messenger from the Parliament carrying letters to General Monk at Edinburgh travelled in company with one of the General’s sergeants, and happened to mention that he also held despatches for the Governor of Edinburgh Castle. The circumstance aroused the suspicions of his companion. The messenger was induced to stop at a wayside inn and plied with brandy until he became so intoxicated that the papers could be taken from his person without detection. Then the sergeant posted by forced stages to his general with the packet, which was opened and perused. It turned out to contain an order for Monk’s arrest. Policy and resentment combined to direct the eyes of Monk to Charles Stuart, and in due course the Restoration became an accomplished fact.

SPORTS AND PASTIMES

Many of the inn signs to be met with in the old provincial trading centres recall the sports of our ancestors. Too often these were of a brutal and barbarous character, suited only to an age which took its pleasures strenuously and knew nothing of squeamishness and delicate nerves. Not that we of the twentieth century are at heart one whit more humane. The cockney who would faint at the bloodshed and slaughter in a bull-ring, devours greedily in his Sunday newspaper all the details of a horrible murder, or a railway accident.

Bull-running and bull-baiting was an attraction only rivalled by bear-baiting. The corporations of some towns had a by-law forbidding butchers to exhibit bull beef for sale, unless the animal had previously been baited by dogs for the amusement of the populace. Over the entrance of the ancient Butchers’ Hall at Hereford, still hangs the bull-ring that was used on these occasions.It required the introduction of several fruitless bills into the House of Commons between 1802 and 1835, before an Act was finally passed to abolish the practice.Dog and Bearis a very common sign, usually Jacobean in its origin.Bull and Ring,Dog and Bull,Bull and Butcher, are all somewhat rare.

Horse and Groom, near Waltham St. Lawrence

Cock-fighting was a very favourite spectacle from the earliest times, enjoyed heartily by gentle and serf, young and old, learned and simple. Nature intended the game-cock to strive for mastery with his rival, and with the weapons provided by nature the combat has a fearful interest for the modern British boy, as each spring new conflicts recur in the farmyard. But the art of the Elizabethansportsman supplemented nature with a sharp spur of steel. A graphic account of a cock-fight is given by Count Kilmansegge in his “Diary of a Journey to England, 1761-2.” The scene is to be identified by the little passage from Queen Anne’s Gate to Birdcage Walk, still known as Cock-Pit Alley.

“On the 1st February, we went to see a cock-fight, which lasted the whole of the week, where heavy bets, made by the Duke of Ancaster and others, for more than 100 guineas were at stake. The fight takes place at the Cock-Pit close to St. James’s Park, in the vicinity of Westminster. In the middle of a circle and a gallery surrounded by benches, a slightly-raised theatre is erected upon which the cocks fight; they are a small kind of cock, to the legs of which a long spur, like a long needle is fixed, with which they know how to inflict damage on their adversaries very cleverly during the fight, but on which also they are frequently caught themselves, so breaking their legs. One bird of each of the couples which we saw fighting met with this misfortune, so that he was down in a moment, and unable to raise or to help himself, consequently his adversary at once had an enormous advantage. Notwithstanding this,he fought with his beak for half an hour but the other bird had the best of it, and both were carried off with bleeding heads. No one who has not seen such a sight can conceive the uproar by which it is accompanied, as everybody at the same time offers and accepts bets.... We were satisfied with seeing two fights, although we might have remained to see still more for the half-crown which we paid on entering.”

The cock-pit was not infrequently to be found in the inn yards. At Lincoln the corporation pit was in the yard of theReindeer, and here James I, a great patron of this sport, was entertained. Pope, whilst living with his father at Chiswick, took great delight in cock-fighting; all his pocket-money was laid out in buying birds from various choice strains. From this passion, we are told, his mother had the good sense and skill to wean him.

Country towns generally contain an inn called theCock-fighters, sometimes with remains of the old pitin situ; and the sign of theCock and Bellis said to be derived from the shrovetide cock-fights, when boys matched their birds against each other, and to the lucky owner was awarded a silver bell, which hewore in his hat for three Sundays following. Originally, the Shrovetide cocks were mounted on stools and stones thrown at them. Out of this has grown the modern “Cocoanut Shy.”

The sign of theBird in Hand, often merely facetious, may when seen on old inns, as at Widmore, near Bromley, have reference to hawking; so withHawk and BuckleandFalconwhich, as a rule, we are content to treat as heraldic emblems.

TheKentish Bowmanand theBow and Arrowremain to tell us of archery, the favourite village pastime in rural England until quite recently. It is a disputed point whether the resilient virtues of the wood, or their use in Palm Sunday processions had most to answer for the hacked and mutilated condition of the branches of old churchyard yews.Speed the Ploughrecalls the rustic ploughing competitions.

Dog and Gun,Dog and Duck,Dog and Badger,Fox and Hounds, andHuntsman, all betray the characteristic trait of John Bull, who celebrates a fine frosty morning by “going out to kill something.” The Hunt meet is usually in front of some leading inn; and hither when the run is over choice bladesrepair to recount the doings of the day. These inns abound in trophies of the chase, mounted antlers, stuffed foxes, otters, or rare birds in glass cases; though few can vie with the collection of specimens and prints at theSwan, Tarporley; where even the plate and crockery bear witness to the pursuits of its patrons.

TheBlue Capat Sandiway, in Cheshire, built in 1715, was so re-named in 1762 in memory of a very remarkable hound. So fast was his pace that a weight had to be slung round his neck to prevent him outracing the rest of the pack. On one side of the signboard his portrait appears. On the reverse the following account of the race which first brought him into notice:

“On Saturday, September 28th, 1762, Blue Cap and Wanton, ye property of Mr. Smith-Barry, Master of ye Cheshire, in a match over ye Beacon course at Newmarket, beat a couple of Mr. Meynell’s (ye Quorn), one of which was Richmond. Sixty horses started with ye hounds. Mr. Smith-Barry’s huntsman, Cooper, was ye first up, but ye mare that carried him was quite blind at ye end. Only twelve got to ye end. Will Craine, who trained ye Cheshire hounds, came intwelfth on Rib. Betting was 6 to 4 on Meynell’s.”

According to Daniel the race was run at fully thirty miles an hour.

From an inn named after an hound, we pass to another in the same county, much more curious and antique in its thatched roof gables and old furniture, which keeps green the memory of a splendid racehorse. TheSmokerat Plumbley has nothing to do with tobacco. The portrait of the old horse, together with the arms of Sir George Leicester, father of the first Baron de Tabley, owner of the horse, have been painted on the signboard by the daughter of Lady Leighton Warren, a member of this family.

Inns are no longer betting centres, but their owners are keenly interested in sport, and many jovial souls still notch calendars by racing events, referring to some local episodes as having occurred “in the year when Stickphast won the Derby.” Although theRunning Horsewas a Hanoverian emblem, most of the houses of this name within a few miles of Epsom must owe their origin to the racing fraternity. The oldRunning Horseat Sandling, near Maidstone, so students of Dickens declare, suggested Mr. Pickwick’s adventurewith the eccentric steed, hired for the benefit of Mr. Winkle.

Bowls is still almost as favourite a pastime at the old inns as it was in the days of Sir Francis Drake. In East Anglia the greens are often of remarkable size and beautifully kept. The finest bowling green in the South of England is, we believe, that behind theQueen’s Headat Hawkhurst, an old-fashioned house to be visited for its sweet situation and cosy arrangements—as well as for the almost unique collection of old furniture gathered together by the late Mr. Clements. On the lawn of theAnchorat Hartfield, a game is in vogue called “Clock Golf,” which we have seen nowhere else, but which possesses its attractions.

It is a traditional habit among prize-fighters when they retire on their laurels to assume the management of a tavern, where their reputation makes them efficient in maintaining order; but the sedentary style of life usually produces too much adipose tissue for perfect health and happiness. Old cricketers also drift into the same haven. Indeed, the public-house has contributed many of the best exponents of the national game. William Clarke, the father of moderncricket, and first secretary of the famous All England Eleven, kept theTrent Bridge Innat Nottingham; Noah Mann, a famous Sussex player, and one of the heroes of the Hambleden Club, came from an inn at North Chapel, near the Surrey border of the county. He is said to have once made ten runs with one hit. At Mitcham, nursery alike of vegetation and of Surrey cricket, every publican is a cricketer of repute.Bat and Ball,Cricketers, and similar signs are, of course, to be met with everywhere.

At theSwan, Ash Vale, close to Basingstoke Canal, and at present kept by Mr. John Tupper, the well-known army trainer, there still remains one of the last rat-pits—of course, now not utilized for the sport. Ratting survived cock-fighting for a time, the usual method being to turn a dog in with a number of rats, which he was expected to kill within a given number of minutes. The pit was about six feet in diameter with a high unclimbable rim either of wood or polished cement.

A more humane, but very exciting rough-and-tumble competition may occasionally be witnessed in the public-houses of some east-end districts, and is entitled “Boot hunting.”Various individuals who pay an entrance fee of perhaps sixpence, group themselves on a platform at the end of the room, and remove their footgear which are put into a barrel, shaken up, and then deposited in a heap. The signal is given, each man scrambles for his own property, and to the first who succeeds in getting his boots on the prize is awarded. Sometimes the competitors are chosen by the audience whose “gate-money” provides the trophy.

We can hardly trace the sites even of the inns and alehouses between Ware and Tottenham mentioned in the “Compleat Angler.” But, like old Isaac Walton, the modern piscator loves to sample “the good liquor that our honest forefathers did use to drink of, which preserved their health, and made them to live so long and to do so many good deeds!” TheTalbothas disappeared from Ashbourne on the Dove, but there are “other inns as good.” TheIsaac Walton Inn, on the Dove, has been for many years a favourite resort of anglers. On the banks of the Thames, Kennet, Arun, or Great Ouse, there are hostelries in which anglers much do congregate at eventide during the season; on their walls gigantic trout (suspected by thestranger to be modelled in plaster), float in most lifelike attitude within a sea of painted glass. And we know of snug bar parlours in the backwoods of Bermondsey, Finsbury, and Bethnal Green, whither about nine o’clock men laden with rods and heavy baskets or sacks may be observed hurrying along to be in time for the “weighing in.”

The inn yards of Bishopsgate and Southwark witnessed the early performances of the English drama; and the auditorium of the theatre takes its form from the tiers of galleries surrounding the “pit” which the players found there. Music halls have also grown up from the impromptu concerts in the taverns. The older music halls, like theOxford,Middlesex, orDeacon’s, were twenty years ago simply public-houses with a hall behind them, where a chairman, armed with a hammer to maintain silence, announced each performer by name and arranged the order of the programme.

Many inns contain museums. At theMarquis of Granby, near New Cross Station, there is a magnificent collection of hunting-knives, rifles, etc. The late Mr. Frank Churchill, of theWhite Lion, Warlingham, displayed in the ancient chimney-corner of that housegridirons, spits, and domestic utensils of ancient pattern, and Mr. Alfred Churchill had a similar museum at theWhite Hart, at Bletchingley.

For some unknown reason the police are discouraging these museums, and in some districts publicans are warned against harbouring games of any kinds. Even good old English manly pastimes like bowls and skittles are under the ban of the licensing magistrates.

The other day we discussed the matter with an old yeoman farmer, while we watched a quartette of young fellows playing a kind of bagatelle. He declared that the effect of this policy, now so sedulously pursued by the police, of depriving public-house frequenters of any species of recreation whatever, was fast driving young men into the political clubs where extravagant gambling and hard drinking, especially of spirits, was the fashion. Many promising careers had been ruined in this way—and this we may corroborate from our own experience in various towns. With tears in his eyes the old man confessed to us that his vote had blackballed his own boy from admission into the local club. The total expenditure of the group during a wholeevening’s amusement at the public-house amounted to a sum not exceeding a shilling; perchance at the club they might have been tempted to squander away at least half their week’s earnings.

THE INNS OF LITERATURE AND ART

John Ball, shut up in the Archbishop’s prison at Canterbury, fell a’longing for “the green fields and the whitethorn bushes, and the lark singing over the corn, and the talk of good fellows round the alehouse bench.” The same craving for the real things of life comes to every creative genius fretting against class restrictions. Sir Walter Scott, when staying with Wordsworth at Grassmere, usually managed to give his host the slip in order to spend an hour or two in theSwanbeyond the village; just as Addison had fled the splendid state of Holland House for theOld White Horsein Kensington Road. Either this wayside inn or theRed Lionat Hampton, was the scene of the historic drinking bout between Addison and Pope, which so upset the latter’s digestion and sense of dignity that he ever afterwards described the great essayist as a terrible drunkard. TheBull and Bush, in North End Hampstead, now chiefly patronised by holiday makers on account of its attractive tea-gardens,was another resort where Addison, Dryden, Steele, and the rest of the famous galaxy of wits loved to gather. It is said also to have once been the country seat of Hogarth.

The Falstaff, Canterbury

More temperate in their devotion to the flowing bowl, but scarcely less brilliant in their abilities, were the company who fifty years ago used to visit theBullat Woodbridge. George Borrow, the gipsy wanderer; Edward Fitzgerald, the translator of “Omar Khayyam,” and Charles Keene, thePunchArtist, were among the number. Old John Grout, who kept the house, was himself an odd character. When Lord Tennyson came to stay with Fitzgerald, at Woodbridge, the latter remarked to Grout that the town ought to feel itself honoured. John was not a student of poetry, and inquired of Mr. Groome (whose son tells the story in “Two Suffolk Friends”) who was the gentleman that Mr. Fitzgerald had been talking of. “Mr. Tennyson, the poet-laureate,” was the reply. “Dissay,” said John, hazily; “anyhow, he didn’t fare to know much about hosses when I showed him over my stables!” In these stables there is a tomb to the memory of George Carlow, who was buried there in 1738, at his own special desire.

Many, who afterwards rose to eminence inthe world of art and letters were born at inns. David Garrick’s birthplace was at theRavenat Hereford; at the Garrick Theatre, hard by, Kitty Clive, Mrs. Siddons and Kemble made some of their early successes. William Cobbett was born at theJolly Farmerat Farnham; while at the littleWheatsheafin Kelvedon, now disused, but still retaining the wrought-iron bracket from which the sign used to swing, Charles Spurgeon, the famous preacher, first saw the light. Cardinal Wolsey’s father is generally described as a butcher, but he was also a tavern-keeper at Ipswich. Like dear old Tom Hughes, who kept theBlack Lionat Walsingham, a few years ago, he combined with his inn, branch shops for the sale of bread and meat. It was at theBlack Bearat Devizes, then kept by his father, that Sir Thomas Lawrence first discovered his talent as a painter. We may add that a personage with an entirely different kind of reputation—Dick Turpin—was born at theCrown, Hempstead, Essex.

A very large number of inns all over England are dedicated to the memory of Shakespeare; in fact, a print dated 1823 shows the chief portion of the house where the Bard was born at Stratford-on-Avon, as a verypicturesque inn—theSwan and Maiden Head—with a portly, good-humoured landlord standing in the doorway and inviting visitors to enter and drink a bumper. Of Shakespeare’s characters, the one best known on the signboards is Sir John Falstaff. There are threeFalstaffinns on the Dover road. The first is that on Gad’s Hill, the scene of the hero’s most glorious exploit, and incidentally connecting him with his prototype, Sir John Oldcastle. At Canterbury, just outside the West Gate, theFalstaffis a fine old-fashioned comfortable house with some very good linen-fold panelling.But we love best to linger over theSir John Falstaffat Newington, near Sittingbourne. The projecting upper storey, bracketed out on grinning satyrs, the excellent portrait of the fat knight on the signboard, the noble cornice, and the rakish lines of the great red-tiled roof all give the distinctive character of the best Jacobean work. Standing amid its homelier neighbours in the village street, it looks like a rollicking cavalier who has come down in the world and is just a little bit ashamed of being seen in such company. His finery is sadly faded; he is obliged now to shift for himself and pick up what he can among these common people. If we wait awhile, he will take us aside, and confide in us about his doings, when he could share in the gay monarch’s revels with the best of them.Ben Jonson,Garrick, andDr. Syntax, are almost the only other literary or dramatic signs that are at all common.

Sir John Falstaff, Newington

TheThree Pigeonsat Brentford was, in all likelihood, one of the haunts of Shakespeare, and was certainly frequented by Ben Jonson, who mentions it in the “Alchymist,” as also does Thomas Middleton in “The Roaring Girl.” At this time the landlord was John Lowin, of the Globe Theatre, said to have beenthe original creator of Falstaff in the “Merry Wives of Windsor,” and of the part of Henry VIII. He died in great poverty during the Commonwealth and the inn has lately been rebuilt.

Whether theBellat Edmonton is really the house at which John Gilpin ought to have dined is a controversial point, in spite of the graphic portrait of the hero on his mettlesome steed. More authentic is the fact that, at theBell, Charles Lamb was in the habit of taking a parting glass with his friends before seeing them off by the London coach.

TheWhite Swanat Henley-in-Arden, and theRed Lionat Henley, dispute the claim to having inspired William Shenstone’s poem “Written at an Inn.” Dr. Johnson decided in favour of the latter, and would repeat with emotion the concluding verse which was scratched in the inn window:

Back to Index Next