Rose, erected over a doorway, which was the only indication in the
main street of such an establishment. In the superior houses of the
metropolis in the sixteenth century, room was gained in the rear of
the street-line, the space in front being economized, so that the line
of shops might not be interrupted. Upon this plan, the larger taverns
in the City were constructed, wherever the ground was sufficiently
spacious behind: hence it was that the Poultry tavern of which we are
speaking, was approached through a long, narrow, covered passage,
opening into a well-lighted quadrangle, around which were the
tavern-rooms. The sign of the Rose appears to have been a costly work,
since there was the fragment of a leaf of an old account-book
preserved, when the ruins of the house were cleared after the Great
Fire, on which were written these entries:--"Pd. to Hoggestreete, the
Duche Paynter, for ye Picture of a Rose, with a Standing-bowle and
Glasses, for a Signe, xx_li._ besides Diners and Drinkings. Also for a
large Table of Walnut-tree, for a Frame; and for Iron-worke and
Hanging the Picture, v_li._" The artist who is referred to in this
memorandum, could be no other than Samuel Van Hoogstraten, a painter
of the middle of the seventeenth century, whose works in England are
very rare. He was one of the many excellent artists of the period,
who, as Walpole contemptuously says, "painted still-life, oranges and
lemons, plate, damask curtains, cloth-of-gold, and that medley of
familiar objects that strike the ignorant vulgar."
But, beside the claims of the painter, the sign of the Rose cost the
worthy tavern-keeper, a still further outlay, in the form of divers
treatings and advances made to a certain rather loose man of letters
of his acquaintance, possessed of more wit than money, and of more
convivial loyalty than either discretion or principle. Master Roger
Blythe frequently patronized the Rose Tavern as his favourite
ordinary. Like Falstaff, he was "an infinite thing" upon his host's
score; and, like his prototype also, there was no probability of his
ever discharging the account. When the Tavern-sign was about to be
erected, this Master Blythe contributed the poetry to it, after the
fashion of the time, which he swore was the envy of all the Rose
Taverns in London, and of all the poets who frequented them. "There's
your Rose at Temple Bar, and your Rose in Covent-garden, and the Rose
in Southwark: all of them indifferent good for wits, and for drawing
neat wines too; but, smite me, Master King," he would say, "if I know
one of them all fit to be set in the same hemisphere with yours! No!
for a bountiful host, a most sweet mistress, unsophisticated wines,
honest measures, a choicely-painted sign, and a witty verse to set it
forth withal,--commend me to the Rose Tavern in the Poultry!"
Even the tavern-door exhibited a joyous frontispiece; since the
entrance was flanked by two columns twisted with vines carved in wood,
which supported a small square gallery over the portico surrounded by
handsome iron-work. On the front of this gallery was erected the sign,
in a frame of similar ornaments. It consisted of a central compartment
containing the Rose, behind which appeared a tall silver cup, called
in the language of the time "a standing-bowl," with drinking-glasses.
Beneath the painting was this inscription:--
"THIS IS
THE ROSE TAVERNE
IN THE POULTREY:
KEPT BY
WILLIAM KING,
CITIZEN AND VINTNER.
"This Taverne's like its Signe--a lustie Rose,
A sight of joy that sweetness doth enclose:
The daintie Flow're well-pictur'd here is seene,
But for its rarest sweetes--Come, Searche Within!"
The authorities of St. Peter-upon-Cornhill soon determined, on the
10th of May, 1660, in Vestry, "that the King's Arms, in painted-glass,
should be refreshed, and forthwith be set up by the Churchwarden at
the parish-charges; with whatsoever he giveth to the glazier as a
gratuity, for his care in keeping of them all this while."
The host of the Rose resolved at once to add a Crown to his sign, with
the portrait of Charles, wearing it in the centre of the flower, and
openly to name his tavern "The Royal Rose and King's Head." He
effected his design, partly by the aid of one of the many excellent
pencils which the time supplied, and partly by the inventive muse of
Master Blythe, which soon furnished him with a new poesy. There is not
any further information extant concerning the painting, but the
following remains of an entry on another torn fragment of the old
account-book already mentioned, seem to refer to the poetical
inscription beneath the picture:-- ... "_on ye Night when he made ye
Verses for my new Signe, a Soper, and v. Peeces_." The verses
themselves were as follow:--
"Gallants, Rejoice!--This Flow're is now full-blowne;
'Tis a Rose--Noble better'd by a Crowne;
All you who love the Embleme and the Signe,
Enter, and prove our Loyaltie and Wine."
Beside this inscription, Master King also recorded the auspicious
event referred to, by causing his painter to introduce into the
picture a broad-sheet, as if lying on the table with the cup and
glasses--on which appeared the title "_A Kalendar for this Happy Yeare
of Restauration 1660, now newly Imprinted_."
As the time advanced when Charles was to make his entry into the
metropolis, the streets were resounding with the voices of
ballad-singers pouring forth loyal songs, and declaring, with the
whole strength of their lungs, that
"The King shall enjoy his own again."
Then, there were also to be heard, the ceaseless horns and
proclamations of hawkers and flying-stationers, publishing the latest
passages or rumours touching the royal progress; which, whether
genuine or not, were bought and read, and circulated, by all parties.
At length all the previous pamphlets and broad-sheets were swallowed
up by a well-known tract, still extant, which the newsmen of the time
thus proclaimed:--"Here is _A True Accompt and Narrative--of his
Majestie's safe Arrival in England--as 'twas reported to the House of
Commons, on Friday, the 25th day of this present May--with the
Resolutions of both Houses thereupon:--Also a Letter very lately writ
from Dover--relating divers remarkable Passages of His Majestie's
Reception there_."
On every side the signs and iron-work were either refreshed, or newly
gilt and painted: tapestries and rich hangings, which had engendered
moth and decay from long disuse, were flung abroad again, that they
might be ready to grace the coming pageant. The paving of the streets
was levelled and repaired for the expected cavalcade; and scaffolds
for spectators were in the course of erection throughout all the line
of march. Floods of all sorts of wines were consumed, as well in the
streets as in the taverns; and endless healths were devotedly and
energetically swallowed, at morning, noon, and night.
At this time Mistress Rebecca King was about to add another member to
Master King's household: she received from hour to hour accounts of
the proceedings as they occurred, which so stimulated her curiosity,
that she declared, first to her gossips, and then to her husband, that
she "must see the King pass the tavern, or matters might go cross with
her."
A kind of arbour was made for Mistress Rebecca in the small iron
gallery surmounting the entrance to the tavern. This arbour was of
green boughs and flowers, hung round with tapestry and garnished with
silver plate; and here, when the guns at the Tower announced that
Charles had entered London, Mistress King took her seat, with her
children and gossips around her. All the houses in the main streets
from London-bridge to Whitehall, were decorated like the tavern with
rich silks and tapestries, hung from every scaffold, balcony, and
window; which, as Herrick says, turned the town into a park, "made
green and trimmed with boughs." The road through London, so far as
Temple-Bar, was lined on the north side by the City Companies, dressed
in their liveries, and ranged in their respective stands, with their
banners; and on the south by the soldiers of the trained-bands.
One of the wine conduits stood on the south side of the Stocks'
Market, over which Sir Robert Viner subsequently erected a triumphal
statue of Charles II. About this spot, therefore, the crowd collected
in the Market-place, aided by the fierce loyalty supplied from the
conduit, appears for a time to have brought the procession to a full
stop, at the moment when Charles, who rode between his brothers the
Dukes of York and Gloucester, was nearly opposite to the newly-named
King's Head Tavern. In this most favourable interval, Master Blythe,
who stood upon a scaffold in the doorway, took the opportunity of
elevating a silver cup of wine and shouting out a health to his
Majesty. His energetical action, as he pointed upwards to the gallery,
was not lost; and the Duke of Buckingham, who rode immediately before
the King with General Monk, directed Charles's attention to Mistress
Rebecca, saying, "Your Majesty's return is here welcomed even by a
subject as yet unborn." As the procession passed by the door of the
King's Head Tavern, the King turned towards it, raised himself in his
stirrups, and gracefully kissed his hand to Mistress Rebecca.
Immediately such a shout was raised from all who beheld it or heard of
it, as startled the crowd up to Cheapside conduit; and threw the poor
woman herself into such an ecstasy, that she was not conscious of
anything more, until she was safe in her chamber and all danger
happily over.[31]
The Tavern was rebuilt after the Great Fire, and flourished many
years. It was long a depôt in the metropolis for turtle; and in the
quadrangle of the Tavern might be seen scores of turtle, large and
lively, in huge tanks of water; or laid upward on the stone floor,
ready for their destination. The Tavern was also noted for large
dinners of the City Companies and other public bodies. The house was
refitted in 1852, but has since been closed.
Another noted Poultry Tavern was the Three Cranes, destroyed in the
Great Fire, but rebuilt, and noticed in 1698, in one of the many paper
controversies of that day. A fulminating pamphlet, entitled "_Ecclesia
et Factio_: a Dialogue between Bow Church Steeple and the Exchange
Grasshopper," elicited "An Answer to the Dragon and Grasshopper: in a
Dialogue between an Old Monkey and a Young Weasel, at the Three Cranes
Tavern, in the Poultry."
FOOTNOTE:
[31] Abridged from an Account of the Tavern, by an Antiquary.
THE MITRE, IN WOOD STREET,
Was a noted old Tavern. Pepys, in his _Diary_, Sept. 18, 1660, records
his going "to the Mitre Tavern, in Wood-street, (a house of the
greatest note in London,) where I met W. Symons, D. Scoball, and
their wives. Here some of us fell to handicap, a sport I never knew
before, which was very good." The tavern was destroyed in the Great
Fire.
THE SALUTATION AND CAT TAVERN,
No. 17, Newgate-street (north side), was, according to the tradition
of the house, the tavern where Sir Christopher Wren used to smoke his
pipe, whilst St. Paul's was re-building. There is more positive
evidence of its being a place well frequented by men of letters at the
above period. Thus, there exists a poetical invitation to a social
feast held here on June 19, 1735-6, issued by the two stewards, Edward
Cave and William Bowyer:
"Saturday, Jan. 17, 1735-6.
"Sir,
"You're desir'd on Monday next to meet
At Salutation Tavern, Newgate-street.
Supper will be on table just at eight,
[_Stewards_] One of St. John's [Bowyer], 'tother of St. John's
Gate [Cave]."
This brought a poetical answer from Samuel Richardson, the novelist,
printed _in extenso_ in Bowyer's _Anecdotes_:
"For me, I'm much concerned I cannot meet
'At Salutation Tavern, Newgate-street.'
Your notice, like your verse, so sweet and short!
If longer, I'd sincerely thank you for it.
Howe'er, receive my wishes, sons of verse!
May every man who meets, your praise rehearse!
May mirth, as plenty, crown your cheerful board,
And ev'ry one part happy--as a lord!
That when at home, (by such sweet verses fir'd)
Your families may think you all inspir'd.
So wishes he, who pre-engag'd, can't know
The pleasures that would from your meeting flow."
The proper sign is the Salutation and Cat,--a curious combination, but
one which is explained by a lithograph, which some years ago hung in
the coffee-room. An aged dandy is saluting a friend whom he has met in
the street, and offering him a pinch out of the snuff-box which forms
the top of his wood-like cane. This box-nob was, it appears, called a
"cat"--hence the connection of terms apparently so foreign to each
other. Some, not aware of this explanation, have accounted for the
sign by supposing that a tavern called "the Cat" was at some time
pulled down, and its trade carried to the Salutation, which
thenceforward joined the sign to its own; but this is improbable,
seeing that we have never heard of _any_ tavern called "the Cat"
(although we _do_ know of "the Barking Dogs") as a sign. Neither does
the _Salutation_ take its name from any scriptural or sacred source,
as the _Angel and Trumpets_, etc.
More positive evidence there is to show of the "little smoky room at
the _Salutation and Cat_," where Coleridge and Charles Lamb sat
smoking Oronoko and drinking egg-hot; the first discoursing of his
idol, Bowles, and the other rejoicing mildly in Cowper and Burns, or
both dreaming of "Pantisocracy, and golden days to come on earth."
"SALUTATION" TAVERNS.
The sign Salutation, from scriptural or sacred source, remains to be
explained. Mr. Akerman suspects the original sign to have really
represented the Salutation of the Virgin by the Angel--"Ave Maria,
gratia plena"--a well-known legend on the jettons of the Middle Ages.
The change of representation was properly accommodated to the times.
The taverns at that period were the "gossiping shops" of the
neighbourhood; and both Puritan and Churchman frequented them for the
sake of hearing the news. The Puritans loved the good things of this
world, and relished a cup of Canary, or Noll's nose lied, holding the
maxim--
"Though the devil trepan
The Adamical man,
The saint stands uninfected."
Hence, perhaps, the Salutation of the Virgin was exchanged for the
"booin' and scrapin'" scene (two men bowing and greeting), represented
on a token which still exists, the tavern was celebrated in the days
of Queen Elizabeth. In some old black-letter doggrel, entitled _News
from Bartholemew Fayre_ it is mentioned for wine:--
"There hath been great sale and utterance of wine,
Besides beere, and ale, and Ipocras fine;
In every country, region, and nation,
But chiefly in Billingsgate, _at the Salutation_."
_The Flower-pot_ was originally part of a symbol of the Annunciation
to the Virgin.
QUEEN'S ARMS, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD.
Garrick appears to have kept up his interest in the City by means of
clubs, to which he paid periodical visits. We have already mentioned
the Club of young merchants, at Tom's Coffee-house, in Cornhill.
Another Club was held at the Queen's Arms Tavern, in St. Paul's
Churchyard, where used to assemble: Mr. Samuel Sharpe, the surgeon;
Mr. Paterson, the City solicitor; Mr. Draper, the bookseller; Mr.
Clutterbuck, the mercer; and a few others.
Sir John Hawkins tells us that "they were none of them drinkers, and
in order to make a reckoning, called only for French wine." These were
Garrick's standing council in theatrical affairs.
At the Queen's Arms, after a thirty years' interval, Johnson renewed
his intimacy with some of the members of his old Ivy-lane Club.
Brasbridge, the old silversmith of Fleet-street, was a member of the
Sixpenny Card-Club held at the Queen's Arms: among the members was
Henry Baldwyn, who, under the auspices of Bonnel Thornton, Colman the
elder, and Garrick, set up the _St. James's Chronicle_, which once had
the largest circulation of any evening paper. This worthy
newspaper-proprietor was considerate and generous to men of genius:
"Often," says Brasbridge, "at his hospitable board I have seen needy
authors, and others connected with his employment, whose abilities,
ill-requited as they might have been by the world in general, were by
him always appreciated." Among Brasbridge's acquaintance, also, were
John Walker, shopman to a grocer and chandler in Well-street, Ragfair,
who died worth 200,000_l._, most assuredly not gained by lending money
on doubtful security; and Ben Kenton, brought up at a charity-school,
and who realized 300,000_l._, partly at the Magpie and Crown, in
Whitechapel.
DOLLY'S, PATERNOSTER ROW.
This noted tavern, established in the reign of Queen Anne, has for its
sign, the cook Dolly, who is stated to have been painted by
Gainsborough. It is still a well-appointed chop-house and tavern, and
the coffee-room, with its projecting fireplaces, has an olden air.
Nearly on the site of Dolly's, Tarlton, Queen Elizabeth's favourite
stage-clown, kept an ordinary, with the sign of the Castle. The house,
of which a token exists, was destroyed in the Great Fire, but was
rebuilt; there the "Castle Society of Music" gave their performances.
Part of the old premises were subsequently the Oxford Bible Warehouse,
destroyed by fire in 1822, and rebuilt.
The entrance to the Chop-house is in Queen's Head passage; and at
Dolly's is a window-pane painted with the head of Queen Anne, which
may explain the name of the court.
At Dolly's and Horsman's beef-steaks were eaten with gill-ale.
ALDERSGATE TAVERNS.
Two early houses of entertainment in Aldersgate were the Taborer's Inn
and the Crown. Of the former, stated to have been of the time of
Edward II., we know nothing but the name. The Crown, more recent,
stood at the End of Duck-lane, and is described in Ward's _London
Spy_, as containing a noble room, painted by Fuller, with the Muses,
the Judgment of Paris, the Contention of Ajax and Ulysses, etc. "We
were conducted by the jolly master," says Ward, "a true kinsman of the
bacchanalian family, into a large stately room, where at the first
entrance, I discerned the master-strokes of the famed Fuller's pencil;
the whole room painted by that commanding hand, that his dead figures
appeared with such lively majesty that they begat reverence in the
spectators towards the awful shadows. We accordingly bade the
complaisant waiter oblige us with a quart of his richest claret, such
as was fit only to be drank in the presence of such heroes, into whose
company he had done us the honour to introduce us. He thereupon gave
directions to his drawer, who returned with a quart of such inspiring
juice, that we thought ourselves translated into one of the houses of
the heavens, and were there drinking immortal nectar with the gods and
goddesses:
"Who could such blessings when thus found resign?
An honest vintner faithful to the vine;
A spacious room, good paintings, and good wine."
Far more celebrated was the Mourning Bush Tavern, in the cellars of
which have been traced the massive foundations of Aldersgate, and the
portion of the City Wall which adjoins them. This tavern, one of the
largest and most ancient in London, has a curious history.
The Bush Tavern, its original name, took for its sign the _Ivy-bush_
hung up at the door. It is believed to have been the house referred to
by Stowe, as follows:--"This gate (Aldersgate) hath been at sundry
times increased with building; namely, on the south or _inner side_, a
great frame of timber, (or house of wood lathed and plastered,) hath
been added and set up containing divers large rooms and lodgings,"
which were an enlargement of the Bush. Fosbroke mentions the Bush as
the chief sign of taverns in the Middle Ages, (it being ready to
hand,) and so it continued until superseded by "a thing to resemble
one containing three or four tiers of hoops fastened one above another
with vine leaves and grapes, richly carved and gilt." He adds: "the
owner of the Mourning Bush, Aldersgate, was so affected at the
decollation of Charles I., that he _painted his bush black_." From
this period the house is scarcely mentioned until the year 1719, when
we find its name changed to the Fountain, whether from political
feeling against the then exiled House of Stuart, or the whim of the
proprietor, we cannot learn; though it is thought to have reference to
a spring on the east side of the gate. Tom Brown mentions the Fountain
satirically, with four or five topping taverns of the day, whose
landlords are charged with doctoring their wines, but whose trade was
so great that they stood fair for the alderman's gown. And, in a
letter from an old vintner in the City to one newly set up in Covent
Garden, we find the following in the way of advice: "as all the world
are wholly supported by hard and unintelligible names, you must take
care to christen your wines by some hard name, the further fetched so
much the better, and this policy will serve to recommend the most
execrable scum in your cellar. I could name several of our brethren to
you, who now stand fair to sit in the seat of justice, and sleep in
their golden chain at churches, that had been forced to knock off long
ago, if it had not been for this artifice. It saved the Sun from being
eclipsed; the Crown from being abdicated; the Rose from decaying; and
the Fountain from being dry; as well as both the Devils from being
confined to utter darkness."
Twenty years later, in a large plan of Aldersgate Ward, 1739-40, we
find the Fountain changed to the original Bush. The Fire of London had
evidently, at this time, curtailed the ancient extent of the tavern.
The exterior is shown in a print of the south side of Aldersgate; it
has the character of the larger houses, built after the Great Fire,
and immediately adjoins the gate. The last notice of the Bush, as a
place of entertainment, occurs in Maitland's _History of London_, ed.
1722, where it is described as "the Fountain, commonly called the
Mourning Bush, which has a back door into St. Anne's-lane, and is
situated near unto Aldersgate." The house was refitted in 1830. In the
basement are the original wine-vaults of the old Bush; many of the
walls are six feet thick, and bonded throughout with Roman brick. A
very agreeable account of the tavern and the antiquities of
neighbourhood was published in 1830.
"THE MOURNING CROWN."
In Phoenix Alley, (now Hanover Court,) Long Acre, John Taylor, the
Water Poet, kept a tavern, with the sign of "the Mourning Crown," but
this being offensive to the Commonwealth (1652), he substituted for a
sign his own head with this inscription--
"There's many a head stands for a sign;
Then, gentle reader, why not mine?"
He died here in the following year; and his widow in 1658.
JERUSALEM TAVERNS, CLERKENWELL.
These houses took their name from the Knights of St. John of
Jerusalem, around whose Priory, grew up the village of Clerkenwell.
The Priory Gate remains. At the Suppression, the Priory was
undermined, and blown up with gunpowder; the Gate also would probably
have been destroyed, but for its serving to define the property. In
1604, it was granted to Sir Roger Wilbraham for his life. At this time
Clerkenwell was inhabited by people of condition. Forty years later,
fashion had travelled westward; and the Gate became the
printing-office of Edward Cave, who, in 1731, published here the first
number of the _Gentleman's Magazine_, which to this day bears the Gate
for its vignette. Dr. Johnson was first engaged upon the magazine
here by Cave in 1737. At the Gate Johnson first met Richard Savage;
and here in Cave's room, when visitors called, he ate his plate of
victuals behind the screen, his dress being "so shabby that he durst
not make his appearance." Garrick, when first he came to London,
frequently called upon Johnson at the Gate. Goldsmith was also a
visitor here. When Cave grew rich, he had St. John's Gate painted,
instead of his arms, on his carriage, and engraven on his plate. After
Cave's death in 1753, the premises became the "Jerusalem"
public-house, and the "Jerusalem Tavern."