HERALDIC AND EMBLEMATIC SIGNS.
Royalty stands prominently at the head of the heraldic signs in its
triple hieroglyphic of the Crown, (no coronets ever occur,) the King’s
or Queen’s Arms, and the various royal badges.
The CROWN seems to be one of the oldest of English signs. We read of it
as early as 1467, when a certain Walter Walters, who kept the Crown in
Cheapside, made an innocent Cockney pun, saying he would make his son
heir to the Crown, which so displeased his gracious majesty, King Edward
IV., that he ordered the man to be put to death for high treason.
The Crown Inn at Oxford was kept by Davenant, (Sir William Davenant’s
father.) Shakespeare, on his frequent journeys between London and his
native place, generally put up at this inn, and the malicious world said
that young Davenant (the future Sir William) was somewhat nearer related
to him than as a godson only. One day, when Shakespeare was just
arrived, and the boy sent for from school to see him, a master of one of
the colleges, pretty well acquainted with the affairs of the family,
asked the boy why he was going home in so much haste, who answered, that
he was going to see his godfather Shakespeare. “Fie, child,” said the
old gentleman, “why are you so superfluous? Have you not learnt yet that
you should not use the name of God in vain?”
On the site occupied by the present Bank of England there used to stand
four taverns; one of them bore the sign of the Crown, and was certainly
in a good line of business, for, according to Sir John Hawkins,[121] it
was not unusual in those toping days to draw a butt (120 gallons) of
mountain in half-pints in the course of a single morning.
About the same period there was another Crown Tavern in Duck Lane, W.
Smithfield. One of the rooms in that house was decorated by Isaac Fuller
(ob. 1672) with pictures of the Muses, Pallas, Mars, Ajax, Ulysses, &c.
Ned Ward praises them highly in his “London Spy.” “The dead figures
appeared with such lively majesty that they begot reverence in the
spectators towards the awful shadows!” Such painted rooms in taverns
were not uncommon at that period.
The origin of the sign of the THREE CROWNS is thus accounted for by
Bagford:[122]--“The mercers trading with Collen (Cologne) set vp ther
singes ouer ther dores of ther Houses the three kinges of Collen, with
the Armes of that Citye, which was the Three Crouens of the former
kinges, in memory of them, and by those singes the people knew in what
wares they deld in.” Afterwards, like all other signs, it was used
promiscuously, and thus it gave a name to a good old-fashioned inn in
Lichfield, the property of Dr Johnson, and the very next house to that
in which the doctor was born.
Frequently the Royal Crown is combined with other objects, to amplify
the meaning, or to express some particular prerogative; such are the
CROWN AND CUSHION, being the Crown as it is carried before the king in
coronation, and other ceremonies. We even meet with the TWO CROWNS AND
CUSHIONS; that is, the Crown for the King and for the Queen, which was
the sign of a Mr Arne, an upholsterer in Covent Garden, the hero of
several _Tatlers_ and _Spectators_, and father of the celebrated
musician and composer, Dr Arne. This political upholsterer also figures
in a farce by Murphy, entitled “The Upholsterer; or what news?” The four
Indian princes referred to in _Tatler_, No. 155, who came to England in
the reign of Queen Anne, to implore the help of the British Government
against the encroachments of the French in Canada, seem to have lodged
in this man’s house,--a circumstance frequently alluded to in the papers
of the _Tatler_ and other periodicals of the time.
The CROWN AND GLOVE refers to the well-known ceremony of the Royal
Champion at the Coronation. It occurs as a sign at Stannington,
Sheffield, Eastgate Row, South Chester, &c. The ROYAL CHAMPION himself
figures in George Street, Oxford. In the _Gazetteer_ for August 20,
1784, we find an anecdote recorded concerning the Royal Champion, which
is almost too good to be true:--“At the coronation of King William and
Queen Mary, the Champion of England dressed in armour of complete and
glittering steel; his horse richly caparisoned, and himself, and beaver
finely capped with plumes of feathers, entered Westminster Hall while
the King and Queen were at dinner. And, at giving the usual challenge
to any one that disputed their majesties’ right to the crown of England,
(when he has the honour to drink the Sovereign’s health out of a golden
cup, always his fee,) after he had flung down his gauntlet on the
pavement, an old woman, who entered the hall on crutches, (which she
left behind her,) took it up, and made off with great celerity, leaving
her own glove, with a challenge in it to meet her the next day at an
appointed hour in Hyde Park. This occasioned some mirth at the lower end
of the hall: and it was remarkable that every one was too well engaged
to pursue her. A person in the same dress appeared the next day at the
place appointed, though it was generally supposed to be a good swordsman
in that disguise. However, the Champion of England politely declined any
contest of that nature with the fair sex, and never made his
appearance.”
The CROWN AND SCEPTRE, another of the royal insignia, is named by
Misson[123] in the following incident:--“Butler, the keeper of the Crown
and Sceptre tavern, in St Martin’s Lane, told me that there was a tun of
red port drunk at his wife’s burial, besides mulled white wine.
_Note._--No men ever goe to women’s burials, nor the women to the men’s;
so that there were none but women at the drinking of Butler’s wine. Such
women in England will hold it out with the men, when they have a bottle
before them, as well as upon th’ other occasion, and tattle infinitely
better than they.”
The CROWN AND MITRE, indicative of royalty and the church, is the sign
of a High Church publican at Taunton; and the BIBLE AND CROWN has for
more than a century and a half been the sign of Rivingtons the
publishers. (See under Religious Signs.) The King and Parliament are
represented by the well-known CROWN AND WOOLPACK, which at Gedney
Holbeach, in Lincolnshire, has been corrupted into the CROWN AND
WOODPECKER. The CROWN AND TOWER, at Taunton, may refer to the regalia
kept in the Tower, or to the king being “a tower of strength.” A similar
symbol seems to be intended in the CROWN AND COLUMN, Ker Street,
Devonport, perhaps implying the strength of royalty when supported by a
powerful and united nation.
The CROWN AND ANCHOR, the well-known badge of the Navy, is a great
favourite. One of the most famous taverns with this sign was in the
Strand, where Dr Johnson often used to “make a night of it.” “Soon
afterwards,” says Boswell, “in 1768, he supped at the Crown and Anchor
in the Strand, with a company whom I collected to meet him. There were
Dr Percy, now bishop of Dromore; Dr Douglas, now bishop of Salisbury; Mr
Langton; Dr Robertson, the historian; Dr Hugh Blair, and Mr Thomas
Davis.” On this occasion the great doctor was unusually colloquial, and
according to his amiable custom “tossed and gored several persons.”
The famous “Crown and Anchor Association” against so-called _Republicans
and Levellers_--as the reformers were styled by the ministerial party in
1792--owed its name to this tavern. Its rise and progress is rather
curious: it was undertaken at the instance of Pitt and Dundas, by John
Reeves, a barrister. Reeves, at first, could get no one to join him,
but, to meet the wishes of his employers, used to go to the Crown and
Anchor, draw up some resolutions, pass them _nem. con._, and sign them
_John Reeves_, chairman: thus being in his own person, meeting,
chairman, and secretary. In this way they were inserted in all the
papers of the three kingdoms, the expense being no object to the persons
concerned. Meetings of the counties were advertised, but the first,
second, and third consisted of Reeves alone, and it was not till the
fourth meeting that he had any coadjutors. The political effervescence
created by this society, its imitations and branches, form part of the
history of the nation.
In the year 1800 the Farming Society proposed to have an experimental
dinner in order to ascertain the relative qualities of the various
breeds of cattle in the kingdom; the dinner was planned and patronised
by Sir John Sinclair, and the execution intrusted to Mr Simpkins,
landlord of the Crown and Anchor, who sent a tender of the most
Brobdignagian dinner probably ever heard of. Twelve kinds of oxen and
sheep of the most famous breed, eight kinds of pork, and various
specimens of poultry, were to bleed as victims in this holocaust to the
devil of gluttony; the fish was only to be from fresh waters, such as
were “entitled to the attention of British farmers;” there were various
kinds of vegetables, nine sorts of bread, besides veal, lamb, hams,
poultry, tarts and puddings, all of which were to be washed down by a
variety of strong and mild ales, stout, cider, Perry, and “British”
spirits. Tickets one guinea each.[124]
The ANCHOR AND CROWN was also the sign of the great booth at Greenwich
fair; it was 323 feet long, and 60 feet wide, was used for dancing, and
could easily accommodate 2000 persons at a time. The other booths also
had signs; amongst them were the ROYAL STANDARD, the LADS OF THE
VILLAGE, the BLACK BOY AND CAT, the MOONRAKERS, and others.
The CROWN AND DOVE, Bridewell Street, Bristol, may refer to the order of
the Holy Ghost, or may have been suggested by the THREE PIGEONS AND
SCEPTRE.
Objects of various trades, with a crown above them, were very common:
the CROWN AND FAN was an ordinary fan-maker’s sign.[125] The CROWN AND
RASP, belonging to snuff-makers, occurs as the sign of Fribourg and
Treyer, tobacconists, at the upper end of Pall Mall, near the Haymarket,
in 1781: it is still to be seen on the façade of the house. The oldest
form of taking snuff was to scrape it with a rasp from the dry root of
the tobacco plant; the powder was then placed on the back of the hand
and so snuffed up; hence the name of _râpé_ (rasped) for a kind of
snuff, and the common tobacconist’s sign of LA CAROTTE D’OR, (the golden
root,) in France. The rasps for this purpose were carried in the
waistcoat pocket, and soon became articles of luxury, being carved in
ivory and variously enriched. Some of them, in ivory and inlaid wood,
may be seen at the Hôtel Cluny in Paris, and an engraving of such an
object occurs in “Archæologia,” vol. xiii. One of the first snuff-boxes
was the so-called râpé, or _grivoise_ box, at the back of which was a
little space for a piece of the root, whilst a small iron rasp was
contained in the middle. When a pinch was wanted, the root was drawn a
few times over the iron rasp, and so the snuff was produced and could be
offered to a friend with much more grace than under the above-mentioned
process with the pocket grater.
The CROWN AND LAST originated with shoemakers, but the gentle craft
having the reputation of being thirsty souls, it was also adopted as an
alehouse sign: we find it as such in 1718:--
“ON EASTER Monday, at the Crown and Last at Primlico (_sic_) in
Chelsea road, a silver watch, value 30 sh., is to be bowled for; three
bowls for six pence, to begin at Eight of the clock in the morning and
continues till Eight in the evening. N.B.--They that win the watch may
have it or 30s.”[126]
The CROWN AND HALBERT was, in 1790, the sign of a cutler in St Martin’s
Churchyard;[127] the CROWN AND CAN occurs in St John Street; and the
CROWN AND TRUMPET at Broadway, Worcester: this last may either allude to
the trumpet of the royal herald, or simply signify a crowned trumpet.
Of the KING’S ARMS, and the QUEEN’S ARMS, there are innumerable
instances; they are to be found in almost every town or village. The
story is told that a simple clodhopper once walked ever so many miles to
see King George IV. on one of his journeys, and came home mightily
disgusted, for the king had arms like any other man, while he had always
understood that his majesty’s right arm was a lion and his left arm a
unicorn.
Grinling Gibbons, the celebrated carver and sculptor, lived at the sign
of the King’s Arms in Bow Street, from 1678 until 1721, when he died.
This house is alluded to in the _Postman_, January 24, 1701-2:--
“On Thursday, the house of Mr Gibbons, the carver in Bow Street, fell
down, but by special providence none of the family were killed; but,
’tis said, a young girl which was playing in the court being missed,
is supposed to be buried in the rubbish.”
At the Haymarket, corner of Pall Mall, stood the QUEEN’S ARMS tavern, in
the reign of Queen Anne. At the accession of George I. it was called the
King’s Arms, and there, in 1734, the Whig party used to meet to plan
opposition to Sir Robert Walpole. This club went by the name of the
Rump-steak Club.
Faulkner[128] says that at the King’s Arms, in the High Street, Fulham,
the Great Fire of London was annually commemorated on the 1st of
September, and had been continued without interruption until his time.
It was said to have taken its rise from a number of Londoners who had
been burnt out, and who, having no employment, strolled out to Fulham,
on their way collecting a quantity of hazel nuts, from the hedges, with
which they resorted to this house. A capital picture of the great
conflagration used to be exhibited on that day.
In 1568 the prizes of the first lottery held in England were exhibited
at the Queen’s Arms in Cheapside, the house of Mr Dericke, goldsmith to
Queen Elizabeth. There were no blanks, and the prizes consisted of ready
money, and “certain sorts of merchandises having been valued and
prized.” It had 400,000 lots of 10s. each, and the profits were to go
towards repairing the havens of the kingdom. The drawing was at first
intended to have taken place at Dericke’s house, but finally was done at
the west door of St Paul’s. The programme of this lottery, printed by
Binneman, was exhibited to the Antiquarian Society by Dr Rawlinson in
1748. The next lottery was in 1612. It was drawn on the same plan, and
granted by King James, as a special favour, for the establishment of
English colonies in Virginia. Thomas Sharpley, a tailor, had the chief
prize, which consisted of £4000 of “fair plate.”
“On Friday, April 6,” (1781) says Boswell,[129] “Dr Johnson carried me
to dine at a club, which, at his desire, had been lately formed at the
Queen’s Arms in St Paul’s Churchyard. He told Mr Hoole that he wished to
have a City-club, and asked him to collect one; but, said he, don’t let
them be patriots. The company were that day very sensible well-behaved
men.” This same tavern was also patronised by Garrick. “Garrick kept up
an interest in the city by appearing about twice in a winter at Tom’s
coffeehouse in Cornhill, the usual rendezvous of young merchants at
Changetimes; and frequented a club established for the sake of his
company at the Queen’s Arms Tavern in St Paul’s Churchyard, where were
used to assemble Mr Samuel Sharpe, the surgeon; Mr Paterson, the City
solicitor; Mr Draper, the bookseller; Mr Clutterbuck, a mercer; and a
few others: they were none of them drinkers, and in order to make a
reckoning, called only for French wines. These were his standing counsel
in theatrical affairs.”[130]
Sometimes we meet with the King’s or Queen’s Arms in very odd
combinations; thus in the reign of Queen Anne there was a QUEEN’S ARMS
AND CORNCUTTER[131] in King Street, Westminster; the sign of Thomas
Smith, who, according to his handbill, (in the Bagford collection,)
had, “by experience and ingenuity learnt the art of taking out and
curing all manner of corns without any pain;” he also sold “the
famoustest ware in all England, which never fails curing the toothache
in half an hour.” It was customary with those who were “sworn servants
to his Majesty,”--_i.e._, who had the lord chamberlain’s diploma, to set
up the royal arms beside their sign. The said Thomas, however, does not
appear to have had this honour, for not a word about it is mentioned in
his bill, so that he must have set up the Queen’s Arms merely to blind
the public. The name of the person who filled the important office of
corncutter to Queen Anne, I am afraid is lost to posterity, but, _en
revanche_, we know who drew King Charles II.’s teeth, for the Rev. John
Ward has recorded in his Diary.[132] “Upon a sign about Fleetbridge this
is written,--‘Here lives Peter de la Roch and George Goslin, both which,
and no others, are sworn operators to the king’s teeth.’”
Royal badges, and the supporters of the arms of various kings, were in
former times largely used as signs. The following is a list of the
supporters:--
RICHARD II., Two Angels, (blowing trumpets.)
HENRY IV., Swan and Antelope.
HENRY V., Lion and Antelope.
HENRY VI., Two Antelopes.
EDWARD IV., Lion and Bull.
EDWARD V., Lion and Hind.
RICHARD III., Two Boars.
HENRY VII., Dragon and Greyhound.
HENRY VIII., Lion and Dragon.
EDWARD VI., Lion and Dragon.
MARY, Eagle and Lion.
ELIZABETH, Lion and Dragon.
JAMES I., Lion and Unicorn, which have continued ever since.
Of early royal badges an interesting list occurs in Harl. MS., 304, f.
12:--
“King Edward the first after the Conquest, sonne to Henry the third,
gave a Rose gold, the stalke vert.
“King Edward the iij gave a lyon in his proper coulor, armed azure
langued or. The oustrich fether gold, the pen gold, and a faucon in
his proper coulor and the Sonne Rising.
“The prince of Wales the ostrich fether pen and all arg.
“Queen Philipe, wyff of Edward the iij^{d}. gave the whyte hynd.
“Edmond, Duk of York, sonne of Edward the iij, gave the Faucon arg.
and the Fetterlock or.
“Richard the second gave the White hart, armed, horned, crowned or,
and the golden son.
“Henry, sonne to the Erl of Derby, first Duk of Lancaster, gave the
red rose uncrowned, and his ancestors gave the Fox tayle in his prop.
coulor and the ostrich fether ar. the pen ermyn.
“Henry the iiij gave the Swan ar. and the antelope.
“Henry the v gave the Antelope or, armed, crowned, spotted (?) and
horned gold and the Red Rose oncrowned and the Swan silver, crown and
collar gold, by the Erldom of Herford.
“Henry the vi gave the same that his father gave.
“Edward the iiij gave the Whyte Lyon and the Whyte Rose and the Blak
Bull uncrowned.
“Richard the iij gave the Whyte Boar and the Whyte Rose, the clayes
gold.
“Henry the seventh gave the hawthorn tree vert and the Porte Cullys
and the Red Rose and the Whyte Crowned.
“The Ostrych fether silver, the pen gobone sylver and azur, is the Duk
of Somerset’s bage.
“The Shypmast with the tope and sayle down is the bage of . . .
“The Cresset and burnyng fyer is the bage of the Admyraltye.
“The Egle Russet with a maydenshead, abowt her neke a Crowne gold, is
the bage of the mannor of Conysborow.
“The Duk of York’s bage is the Faucon and the Fetterlock.
“The Whyte Rose by the Castell of Clyfford.
“The Black Dragon by the Erldom of Ulster.
“The Black Bull horned and clayed gold by the honor of Clare.
“The Whyte Hynd by the fayre mayden of Kent.
“The Whyte Lyon by the Erldom of Marche.
“The ostrych fether silver and pen gold ys the kinges.
“The ostrych fether pen and all sylver ys the Prynces.
“The ostrych fether sylver, pen ermyn is the Duke of Lancasters.
“The ostrych fether sylver and pen gobone is the Duke of Somersets.”
Many of these badges, as will be seen afterwards, have come down on
signboards even to the present day. Equally common are the Stuart
badges, which were:--
The red rose of Lancaster and the white rose of York frequently placed
on sunbeams; sometimes the red rose charged with the white.
The rose dimidiated with the pomegranate, symbolical of the connexion
between England and Spain by the marriage of Catherine of Arragon; for
the same reason the castle of Castille, and the sheaf of arrows of
Granada, occur amongst their badges.
The portcullis, borne by the descendants of John of Gaunt, who was born
in Beaufort Castle, whence, _pars pro toto_, the gate was used to
indicate the castle.
The falcon and fetterlock, badge of Henry VII., on account of his
descent from Edmond of Langley, Duke of York.
The red dragon, the ensign of the famous Cadwaller, the last of the
British kings, from whom the Tudors descended.
The hawthorn bush crowned, which Henry VII. adopted in allusion to the
royal crown of Richard III. having been found hidden in a hawthorn bush
after the battle of Bosworth.
The white falcon crowned and holding a sceptre was the badge of Queen
Anna Boleyn, and of Queen Elizabeth her daughter.
The phœnix in flames was adopted by Edward VI. in allusion to his birth,
having been the cause of his mother’s death; afterwards he also granted
this badge to the Seymour family.
In pondering over this class of signs great difficulty often arises from
the absence of all proof that the object under consideration was set up
as a badge, and not as a representation of the actual animal. As no
amount of investigation can decide this matter, we have been somewhat
profuse in our list of badges, in order that the reader should be able
to form his own opinion upon that subject. Thus, for instance, with the
first sign that offers itself, the ANGEL AND TRUMPET, it is impossible
to say whether the supporters of Richard II. gave rise to it, or whether
it represents Fame. Various examples of it still occur, and a very good
carved specimen may be seen above a draper’s shop in Oxford Street. It
is also the name of alehouses in King Street, Holborn, and in Stepney,
High Street, &c.
The ANTELOPE is not very common now, although in 1664 there was a tavern
with this sign in W. Smithfield, the trades token of this house bearing
the following legend:--BIBIS. VINUM. SALUTA. ANTELOP. The Rev. John Ward
tells a very feeble college joke concerning the Antelope Tavern in
Oxford:--
“I have heard of a fellow at Oxford, one Ffrank Hil by name, who kept
the Antelope; and if one yawned, hee could not chuse but yawne, that
vppon a time some schollars hawing stoln his ducks, hee had them to
the Vice chancelor, and one of the scholars got behind the Vice
chancelor, and when the fellow beganne to speak hee would presently
fall a yawning, insomuch that the Vice chancelor turned the fellow
away in great indignation.”[133]
Macklin, the centenarian comedian, who died in 1797, used for thirty
years and upwards to visit a public-house called the Antelope in White
Hart yard, Covent Garden, where his usual beverage was a pint of stout
made hot and sweetened almost to a syrup. This, he said, balmed his
stomach, and kept him from having any inward pains.[134] He died at the
age of upwards of 107, a proof that if, as the teetotallers inform us,
fermented liquors be a poison, it is certainly a slow one.
The DRAGON appears to have been one of the oldest heraldic charges of
this kingdom. It was the standard of the West Saxons, and continued so
until the arrival of William the Conqueror, for in the Bayeux tapestry a
winged dragon on a pole is constantly represented near the person of
King Harold. It was likewise the supporter of the royal arms of Henry
VII. and all the Tudor sovereigns except Queen Mary. Before that time it
had been borne by some of the early Princes of Wales, and also by
several of the kings. Thus it is recorded, 28 Hen. III., the king
ordered to be made--
“Unum draconem in modum unius vexilli de quodam rubro sanulo, qui
ubique sit de auro extensillatus, cujus lingua sit facta tamquam ignis
comburens et continue appareat moveatur, et ejus oculi fiant de
sapphiris vel de aliis lapidibus eidem convenientibus.”[135]
At the battle of Lewes, 1264, the chronicler says that--
“The king schewed forth his schild his Dragon full austere.”[136]
In that time, however, it appears not to have been the royal standard,
but it was borne along with it, for Matthew of Westminster says, “Regius
locus erat inter Draconem et standardum.”[137] Edward III., at the
battle of Crescy, also had a standard “with a dragon of red silk adorned
and beaten with very broad and fair lilies of gold.” Then, again, it
occurs on a coin struck in the reign of Henry VI., and was also one of
the badges of Edward IV.
The GREEN DRAGON was of very frequent occurrence on the signboard. When
Taylor, the water poet, wrote his “Travels through London,” there were
not less than seven Green Dragons amongst the metropolitan taverns of
that day. One of these is still in existence, the well-known Green
Dragon in Bishopsgate Street, for nearly two centuries one of the most
famous coach and carriers’ inns. At present it is simply a public-house.
The RED DRAGON is much less common, whilst the WHITE DRAGON occurs on a
trades token of Holborn, representing a dragon pierced with an arrow,
evidently some family crest.
The WHITE HART was the favourite badge of Richard II. At a tournament
held in Smithfield in 1390, in honour of the Count of St Pol, Count of
Luxemburg, and the Count of Ostrevant, eldest son of Albert, Count of
Holland and Zealand, who had been elected members of the garter, “all
the kynges house were of one sute; theyr cotys, theyr armys, theyr
sheldes, and theyr trappours, were browdrid all with whyte hertys, with
crownes of gold about their neck, and cheynes of gold hanging thereon,
whiche hertys was the kynges leverye that he gaf to lordes, ladyes,
knyghtes, and squyers, to knowe his household people from others.”[138]
The origin of this White Hart, with a collar of gold round its neck,
dates from the most remote antiquity. Aristotle[139] reports that
Diomedes consecrated a white hart to Diana, which, a thousand years
after, was killed by Agathocles, king of Sicily. Pliny[140] states that
it was Alexander the Great, who caught a white stag and placed a collar
of gold round its neck. This marvellous story highly pleased the fancy
of the mediæval writers, always in quest of the wonderful. They
substituted Julius Cæsar for Alexander the Great, and transplanted the
fable to western regions, in consequence of which various countries now
claim the honour of having produced the white hart, collared with gold.
One was said to have been caught in Windsor Forest, another on Rothwell
Haigh Common, in Yorkshire, a third at Senlis, in France, and a fourth
at Magdeburg. This last was killed by Charlemagne. The same emperor is
also reported to have caught a white stag in the woods of Holstein, and
to have attached the usual golden collar round its neck. More than three
centuries after, in 1172, this animal was killed by Henry the Lion, and
the whole story is, to this day, recorded in a Latin inscription on the
walls of Lubeck Cathedral.
Amongst the oldest inns which bore this sign, the White Hart, in the
High Street, Borough, ranks foremost in historical interest. Here it was
that Jack Cade established his headquarters, July 1, 1450. “And you,
base peasants, do ye believe him? Will you needs be hanged with your
pardons about your necks? Hath my sword therefore broken through London
gates, that ye should leave me at the White Hart in Southwark.”--_Henry
VI._, p. ii. a. 1. s. 8. In the yard of that inn he beheaded “one
Hawaydyne of Sent Martyns.”[141] Many and wild must have been the scenes
of riot and debauchery enacted in this place during the stay of the
reckless rebel. The original inn that had sheltered Cade and his
followers, remained standing till 1676, when it was burnt down in the
great fire that laid part of Southwark in ashes. It was rebuilt, and the
structure is still in existence; in Hatton’s time (1708) it could boast
of the largest sign in London except one, which was at the Castle Tavern
in Fleet Street. Charles Dickens has immortalised the White Hart Inn, by
a most lifelike description in his “Pickwick Papers.”
The White Hart Tavern, in Bishopsgate, is also of very respectable
antiquity. It has the date 1480 in the front. Standing on the boundary
of the old hospital of Bethlehem, it is probable that this building
formed part of that religious house. Doubtless it was the hostelry or
inn for the entertainment of strangers, which was a usual outbuilding
belonging to the great hospitals in those days.
In the reign of Queen Elizabeth there was a White Hart Inn in the
Strand, mentioned in a copy of an indenture of lease, from the Earl of
Bedford to Sir William Cecil (7th September 1570) of a portion of
pasture in Covent Garden, “beinge thereby devyeded from certayne gardens
belonginge to the Inne called the Whyte Heart, and other Tenements
scituate in the high streate of Westm’ comunly called the Stronde.” It
is not improbable that this inn gave its name to Hart Street and White
Hart Yard, in that neighbourhood.
There was another inn of this name in Whitechapel, connected with the
name of a rather curious character, Mrs Mapp, the female bone-setter.
“On Friday, several persons who had the misfortune of lameness, crowded
to the WHITE HART Inn in Whitechapel, on hearing Mrs Mapp, the famous
bonesetter, was there. Some of them were admitted to her, and were
relieved as they apprehended. But a gentleman who happened to come by
declared Mrs Mapp was at Epsom, on which the woman thought proper to
move off.”[142] The genuine Mrs Sarah Mapp was a female bone-setter, or
“shape mistress,” the daughter of a bonesetter of Hindon, Wilts. Her
maiden name was Wallis. It appears that she made some successful cures
before Sir Hans Sloane, in the Grecian Coffee-house. For a time she was
in affluent circumstances, kept a carriage and four, had a plate of ten
guineas run for at the Epsom races, where she lived, frequented
theatres, and was quite the lion of a season. Ballads were made upon
her, songs were introduced on the stage, in which the “Doctress of
Epsom” was exalted to the tune of Derry Down; in short, she was called
the “Wonder of the Age.” But, alas! the year after all this _éclat_, we
read in the same _Grub Street Journal_, that had recorded all her
greatness--“December 22, 1737. Died last week at her lodgings, near the
Seven Dialls, the much-talked of Mrs Mapp, the bonesetter, so miserably
poor, that the parish was obliged to bury her.” _Sic transit gloria
mundi!_
Lastly, we must mention the White Hart, at Scole, in Norfolk, as most of
all bearing upon our subject, for that inn had certainly the most
extensive and expensive sign ever produced. It is mentioned by Sir
Thomas Brown, March 4, 1663/4--“About three miles further, I came to
Scoale, where is a very handsome inne, and the noblest sighnepost in
England, about and upon which are carved a great many stories as of
Charon and Cerberus, Actæon and Diana, and many others; the signe itself
is a _White Hart_, which hanges downe carved in a stately wreath.” A
century later, it is again mentioned. Speaking of Osmundestone, or
Scole, Blomefield says--“Here are two very good inns for the
entertainment of travellers. The _White Hart_ is much noted in these
parts, being called by way of distinction Scole Inn; the house is a
large brick building adorned with imagery and carved work in several
places, as big as the life; it was built in 1655 by James Peck, Esq.,
whose arms impaling his wife’s are over the porch door. The sign is very
large, beautified all over with a great number of images of large
stature carved in wood, and was the work of Fairchild; the arms about it
are those of the chief towns and gentlemen in the county.” “There was
lately a very round large bed, big enough to hold 15 or 20 couples, in
imitation (I suppose) of the remarkable great bed at Ware. The house was
in all things accommodated at first for large business; but the road not
supporting it, it is much in decay at present.” A correspondent in
_Notes and Queries_ says:--“I think the sign was not taken down till
after 1795, as I have a recollection of having passed under it when a
boy, in going from Norwich to Ipswich.” We obtain full details of this
wonderful erection from an engraving made in 1740, entitled:--
“The North East side of y^{e} sign of y^{e} White Heart at Schoale Inn
in Norfolk, built in the year 1655 by James Peck, a merchant of
Norwich, which cost £1057. Humb^{ly} Dedicated to James Betts, Gent.,
by his most ob^{t} serv^{t}, Harwin Martin.”
The sign passed over the road, resting on one side on a pier of
brickwork, and joined to the house on the other; its height was
sufficient to allow carriages to pass beneath. Its ornamentation was
divided into compartments, which contained the following subjects
according to the numbers in the engraving:--1. Jonah coming out of the
fish’s mouth. 2. A Lion supporting the arms of Great Yarmouth. 3. A
Bacchus. 4. The arms of Lindley. 5. The arms of Hobart. 6. A Shepherd
playing on his pipe. 7. An Angel supporting the arms of Mr Peck’s lady.
8. An Angel supporting the arms of Mr Peck. 9. A White Hart [the sign
itself] with this motto,--“IMPLENTUR VETERIS BACCHI PINGUISQUE FERINÆ.
ANNO DOM. 1655.” 10. The arms of the Earl of Yarmouth. 11. The arms of
the Duke of Norfolk. 12. Neptune on a Dolphin. 13. A Lion supporting the
arms of Norwich. 14. Charon carrying a reputed Witch to Hades. 15.
Cerberus. 16. A Huntsman. 17. Actæon [addressing his dogs with the words
“ACTÆON EGO SUM, DOMINUM COGNOSCITE VESTRUM.”] 18. A White Hart couchant
[underneath, the name of the maker of the sign, _Johannes Fairchild,
struxit_.] 19. Prudence. 20. Fortitude. 21. Temperance. 22. Justice. 23.
Diana. 24. Time devouring an infant [underneath, “TEMPUS EDAX RERUM.”]
25. An Astronomer, who is seated on a “circumferenter, and by some
chymical preparations is so affected that in fine weather he faces that
quarter from which it is about to come.” There is a ballad on this sign
in “Songs and other Poems,” by Alexander Brome, Gent. London, 1661, p.
123.
This herd of white harts has led us over a large tract of ground, but we
will now return to other royal badges, and note the HAWK AND BUCKLE,
which occurs in Wrenbury, Nantwich, Cheshire; Etwall, Derby; and various
other places. This is simply a popular rendering of the Falcon and the
Fetterlock, one of the badges of the house of York. The HAWK AND BUCK,
which appears to be only another version of the last corruption, occurs
at Pearsly Sutton Street, St Helens, Lancashire; the FALCON AND
HORSE-SHOE, a sign in Poplar in the seventeenth century, (_see_ Trades’
Tokens,) may have had the same origin, whilst the BULL AND STIRRUP, in
Upper Northgate, Chester, probably comes from the Bull and Fetterlock,
another combination of badges of the house of York.
From this family are also derived the BLUE BOAR and the WHITE BOAR. One
of the badges of Richard, Duke of York, father of Edward IV., was “a
blewe Bore with his tuskis and his cleis and his membres of gold.”[143]
The heraldic origin of this sign, of which there are still innumerable
instances all over England, is now so completely lost sight of, that in
many places it passes under the ignoble appellation of the BLUE PIG.
The WHITE BOAR was the popular sign in Richard the Third’s time, that
king’s cognizance being a boar passant argent, whence the rhyme which
cost William Collingborne his life:--
“The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our Dogge,
Rulen all England vnder _an Hogge_.”[144]
The fondness of Richard for this badge appears from his wardrobe
accounts for the year 1483, one of which contains a charge “for 8000
bores made and wrought upon fustian,” and 5000 more are mentioned
shortly afterwards. He also established a herald of arms called Blanc
Sanglier, and it was this trusty squire who carried his master’s mangled
body from Bosworth battle-field to Leicester.
After Richard’s defeat and death the White Boars were changed into Blue
Boars, this being the easiest and cheapest way of changing the sign; and
so the Boar of Richard, now painted “true blue,” passed for the Boar of
the Earl of Oxford, who had largely contributed to place Henry VII. on
the throne. Even the White Boar Inn at Leicester, in which Richard
passed the last night of his royalty and of his life, followed the
general example, and became the Blue Boar Inn, under which sign it
continued until taken down twenty-five or thirty years ago. The bed in
which the king slept was preserved, and continued for many generations
one of the curiosities shewn to strangers at Leicester. It was said that
a large sum of money had been discovered in its double bottom, which the
landlord himself quietly appropriated. The discovery, however, got wind,
and his widow was killed and robbed by some of her guests, in connivance
with a maid-servant. They carried away seven horse-loads of treasure.
This murder was committed in 1605.[145]
The sign of the White Boar, however, did not become quite extinct with
the overthrow of the York faction, for we find it still in 1542, as
appears from the following title of a very scarce book:--
“David’s Harp full of most delectable harmony newly strung and set in
Tune by Thos. Basille y^{e} Lord Cobham. _Imprinted at London in
Buttolp lane at y^{e} sign of y^{e} White Boar by John Mayler for John
Gough_, 1542.”[146]
The FIREBEACON, a sign at Fulston, Lincolnshire, was a badge of Edward
IV., and also of the Admiralty.
The HAWTHORN, or HAWTHORNBUSH, which we meet in so many places, may be
Henry VII.’s badge, but various other causes may have contributed to the
popularity of that sign, such as the custom of gathering bunches of
hawthorn on the first of May. Magic powers, too, are attributed to this
plant. “And now,” says Reginald Scott, “to be delivered from witches
themselves they hange in their entrees an hearb called pentaphyllon,
cinquefole, also an oliue branch, also franckincense, myrrh, valerian
veruen, palme, anterihmon, &c.; also _Haythorne, otherwise whitethorne,
gathered on Maiedaie_,” &c.[147]
The GUN, or CANNON, was the cognizance of King Edward VI., Queen Mary,
and Queen Elizabeth. In the beginning of the eighteenth century it was
of such frequent occurrence that the _Craftsman_, No. 638,
observed--“Nothing is more common in England than the sign of a cannon.”
Sarah Milwood, the “wanton” who led George Barnwell astray, lived,
according to the ballad, in Shoreditch, “next door unto the Gun.” At the
present day it is still a great favourite. In the neighbourhood of
arsenals its adoption is easily explained.
About eighty years ago there was a famous Cannon Coffee-house at the
corner of Trafalgar Square, at the end of Whitcombe Street or Hedgelane;
its site is now occupied by the Union Club. From this coffeehouse
Hackman saw Miss Ray drive past on her way to Covent Garden Theatre,
when he followed and shot her as she was entering her coach after the
performance. The Gun was also a sign with many booksellers, as in the
case of Edward White at the Little North Door of St Paul’s Church,
1579; Thomas Ewster in Ivy Lane, 1649; Henry Brome, at the West End of
St Paul’s Churchyard, 1678, and various others.
The SWAN was a favourite badge of several of our kings, as Henry IV.,
Edward III. At a tournament in Smithfield the last king wore the
following rather profane motto:--
“Hay, hay, the wyth Swan,
By God’s soule I am thy man.”
Thomas Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, used the same cognizance; whence
Gower styles him “cignus de corde benignus;” whilst Cecily Nevil,
Duchess of York, mother of Edward IV. and Richard III., likewise had a
swan as supporter of her arms.
The sign of the SWAN AND MAIDENHEAD, at Stratford-on-Avon, may have
originated in one of the royal badges; for we find that in 1375 the
Black Prince bequeathed to his son Richard his hangings for a hall,
embroidered with mermen, and a border of red and black empaled,
embroidered with _swans having ladies’ heads_.[148] The SWAN AND FALCON
(two badges of Edward III.) was a sign in Hereford, in 1775, as appears
from the following advertisement:--
“HEREFORD MACHINE.
“IN a Day and a Half twice a week, continues flying from the Swan and
Falcon, in Hereford, Monday and Thursday mornings; and from the
Bolt-in-Tun, in Fleet Street, London, Monday and Thursday evenings.
Fare 19s.; outsides half.”--_Hereford Journal, January 12, 1775._
The SWAN AND WHITE HART may have been originally the Swan and Antelope,
supporters of the arms of Henry IV., but as it at present stands two
distinct royal badges are represented. This sign occurs on a
trades-token of St Giles in the Fields, in the second half of the
seventeenth century.
The RISING SUN was a badge of Edward III., and forms part of the arms of
Ireland; but the Sun Shining was a cognizance of several kings. Various
other causes may have led to the adoption of that luminary as a sign.
(See Miscellaneous Signs.)
Lions have been at all times, and still continue, greater signboard
favourites than any other heraldic animals. The lion rampant most
frequently occurs, although in late years naturalism has crept in, and
the _felis leo_ is often represented standing or crouching, quite
regardless of his heraldic origin. The lion of the signboard being
seldom seen _passant_, it is more than probable that it was not derived
from the national coat of arms, but rather from some badge, either that
of Edward III. or from the WHITE LION of Edward IV. Though silver in
general was not used on English signboards yet, the White Lion was
anything but uncommon. Several examples occur amongst early booksellers.
Thus in 1604 the “Shepherd’s Calendar” was “printed at London by G.
Elde, for Thomas Adams, dwelling in Paule’s Churchyarde, at the signe of
the White Lion.” In 1652 we meet with another bookseller, John Fey, near
the New Exchange; and about the same period John Andrews, a ballad
printer, near Pye Corner, who both had the sign of the White Lion. For
inns, also, it was not an uncommon decoration. Thus the White Lion in St
John’s Street, Clerkenwell, was originally an inn frequented by
cattle-drovers and other wayfarers connected with Smithfield market.
Formerly it was a very extensive building, two of the adjoining houses
and part of White Lion Street, all being built on its site. The house
now occupied by an oilshop was in those days the gateway to the
inn-yard, and over it was the sign, in stone relief, a lion rampant,
painted white, inserted in the front wall. It still remains in its
original position, with the date 1714, when it was probably renewed.
Pepys’s cousin, Anthony Joyce, drowned himself in a pond behind this
inn. He was a tavern-keeper himself, and kept the THREE STAGS at
Holborn, (a house of which tokens are extant.) Heavy losses by the fire
of 1666 preyed upon his mind. He imagined that he had not served God as
he ought to have done, and in a moment of despair committed the rash
act. We have another, and not uninteresting instance, of this sign. Sir
Thomas Lawrence’s father kept the White Lion Hotel at Bristol. He
afterwards removed to the Bear, at Devizes, where he failed in business.
It seemed that it was this last speculation in hotel-keeping which
ruined him, with reference to which local wits used to say, “It was not
the Lion but the Bear that eat him up.”--_Bristol Times_, June 4, 1859.
Since pictorial or carved signs have fallen into disuse, and only names
given, the SILVER LION is not uncommon, though in all probability simply
adopted as a change from the very frequent Golden Lion. Thus there is
one in the High Street, Poplar; in the London Road, and Midland Road,
Derby; in the Lilly Road, Luton, Herts, &c. The Red Lion is by far the
most common; doubtless it originated with the badge of John of Gaunt,
Duke of Lancaster, married to Constance, daughter of Don Pedro the
Cruel, king of Leon and Castille. The duke bore the lion rampant gules
of Leon as his cognizance, to represent his claim to the throne of
Castille, when that was occupied by Henry de Transtamare. In after years
it may often have been used to represent the lion of Scotland.
The Red Lion Inn at Sittingbourne is a very ancient establishment. A new
landlord, who entered _circa_ 1820, issued the following
advertisement:--
“WM. WHITAKER having taken the above house, most respectfully solicits
the custom and support of the nobility and gentry, &c., &c.
“The antiquity of the inn, and the respectable character which it has
in history are recorded as under:--
“Sittingbourne, in Kent, is a considerable thoroughfare on the Dover
Road, where there are several good inns, particularly the Red Lion,
which is remarkable for an entertainment, made by Mr John Norwood, for
King Henry the Fifth, _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 being proportionably cheap.
_P.S._--The same character in a like proportionate degree Wm. Whitaker
hopes to obtain by his moderate charges at the present time.”
Red Lion Square, Holborn, was called after an inn known as the Red Lion.
“Andrew Marvell lies interred under y^{e} pews in the south side of St
Giles church in y^{e} Fields, under the window wherein is painted on
glasse, a red lyon, (it was given by the Inneholder of the Red lyon
Inne, Holborn.)”[149]
Another celebrated tavern was the Old Red Lion, St John’s Road,
Islington,--which has been honoured by the presence of several great
literary characters. Thomson, of the “Seasons,” was a frequent visitor;
Paine, the author of the “Rights of Man,” lived, here; and Dr Johnson,
with his friends, are said often to have sat in the parlour. Hogarth
introduced its gable end in his picture of Evening.
The BLACK LION is somewhat uncommon; it may have been derived from the
coat of arms of Queen Philippa of Hainault, wife of Edward III.[150] We
find an example of it in the following advertisement:--[151]
“AT THE UNION SOCIETY at the Black Lion against Short’s Garden in
Drury Lane, a Linen Draper’s, on Thursday the 21st past, _was_ opened
three offices of Insurance on the birth of Children, by way of
dividend. At the same place there is two offices for marriages,” &c.
In this advertisement we touch upon the joint-stock mania then raging.
Newspapers of the time teemed with advertisements of insurance companies
of all sorts: the above paper, with less than a dozen advertisements,
offers four schemes, by which on payment of 10s. per week £1000 were
eventually to be received!
Among the badges of the Tudors, Henry VII. and Henry VIII. left us the
still common sign of the PORTCULLIS.
“A portcullis, or porte-coulisse, is French for that wooden instrument
or machine, plated over with iron, made in the form of a harrow or
lozenge, hung up with pullies in the entries of gates or castles, to
be let down upon any occasion.”--_Anstis Garter._
It is the principal charge in the arms of the city of Westminster, and
is to be seen everywhere within and without the beautiful chapel of
Henry VII., whose favourite device it was as importing his descent from
the house of Lancaster. It was also one of the badges of Henry VIII.,
with the motto, _Securitas Altera_, and occurs on some of his coins.
To this same family we also owe the ROSE AND CROWN, which sign, at the
present day, may be observed on not less than forty-eight public-houses
in London alone, exclusive of beer-houses. One of the oldest is in the
High Street, Knightsbridge, which has been licensed above three hundred
years, though not under that name, for anciently it was called the
OLIVER CROMWELL. The Protector’s bodyguard is said to have been
quartered here, and an inscription to that effect was formerly painted
in front of the house, accompanied by an emblazoned coat of arms of
Cromwell, on an ornamental piece of plaster work, which last is all that
now remains of it. It is the oldest house in Brompton, was formerly its
largest inn, and not improbably the house at which Sir Thomas Wyatt put
up, while his Kentish followers rested on the adjacent green. Corbould
painted this inn under the title of “The Old Hostelrie at
Knightsbridge,” exhibited in 1849, but he transferred its date to 1497,
altering the house according to his own fancy.
During the persecutions, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, of booksellers
suspected as publishers of the mysterious Martin Marprelate tracts, we
find one Bogue, at the loyal sign of the Rose and Crown, in St Paul’s
Churchyard, who fell into the category of the suspected, and who was so
severely persecuted that he was almost ruined by it.
One more royal, or rather princely badge remains to be mentioned,--The
FEATHERS, PRINCE OF WALES’ FEATHERS, occasionally varied to the PRINCE
OF WALES’ ARMS. Ostrich feathers were from a very early period among the
devices of our kings and princes. King Stephen, for instance, according
to Guillim, bore a plume of ostrich feathers with the motto:--VI NULLA
INVERTITUR ORDO, _No force alters their fashion_, meaning that no wind
can ruffle a feather into lasting disorder. Not only the Black Prince,
but also Edward III., himself and his sons, bore ostrich feathers as
their cognizances, each with some distinction in colour or metal. The
badge originally took the form of a single feather. John Ardern,
physician to the Black Prince, who is the first to mention the
derivation of the feathers from the King of Bohemia, says:--
“Et nota quod _talem pennam albam_ portabat Edwardus primogenitus
filius Edwardi regis super crestam suam, et _illam pennam_ conquisivit
de rege Boemiæ, quem interfecit apud Cresse in Francia, et sic
assumpsit sibi _illam pennam_ quæ dicitur _ostrich feather_, quam
prius dictus rex nobilissimus portabat super crestam.”[152]
The feather, also, is drawn in the margin of the MS. as single, and in
that shape, too, it is represented on the Black Prince’s tomb. This
feather, however, appears only to have been an ornament on the helmet of
King John of Bohemia. A contemporary Flemish poem, quoted by Baron van
Reiffenberg, thus describes his heraldic crest:--
“Twee ghiervogelen daer aen geleyt
Die al vol bespringelt zyn
Met Linden bladeren gult fyn,
Deze is, as ik merken kan
Van Bohemen Koninck Jan.”[153]
And in that shape it also occurs on the King’s seal. More difficulties
are offered by the motto: HOU MOET ICH DIEN, for so it is in full,--the
Black Prince himself wrote it after this fashion in a letter dated April
25, 1370. The last two words in German mean “I serve,” but no
explanation is given of the remainder, “Hou moet.” Since no mottos in
two languages occur, we must look for a language which can account for
both parts of the motto; and thus in Flemish we find these words to
mean, “Keep courage, I serve,” or, in less concise language, “Keep
courage, I serve with you, I am your companion in arms;” and though no
parentage has as yet been found for this motto, it may not improbably
have been derived from the Black Prince’s maternal family, since his
mother, Queen Philippa of Hainault, was a Flemish princess.
Amongst the many shops which took the feathers for their sign we find
the following noted in an advertisement:--
“THE LATE Countess of Kent’s powder has been lately experimented upon
divers infected persons with admirable success. The virtues of it
against the Plague and all malignant distempers are sufficiently known
to all the Physicians of Christendom, and the Powder itself prepared
by the only person living that has the true Receipt, is to be had at
the third part of the ordinary price at Mr Calvert’s, at the Feathers
in the old Pall Mall near St James’s,” &c.
This, and other advertisements announcing equally efficacious panacea,
appeared daily in the London papers during the plague of 1665. De Foe,
in his little chronicle of the plague, often speaks of these quack
medicines.
Less dismal images are called up by “the Feathers at the side of
Leicester Fields,” which sign was evidently complimentary to its
neighbour Frederick, Prince of Wales, son of George II., who lived at
Leicester House, “the pouting house of princes,” when on bad terms with
his father, and died there in 1751. The back parlour of this tavern was
for some years the meeting-place of a club of artists and well-known
amateurs, amongst whom Stuart, the Athenian traveller; Scott, the marine
painter; Luke Sullivan, the miniature artist, engraver of the March to
Finchley; burly Captain Grose, author of the “Antiquities of England,”
and the greatest wit of his day; Mr Hearne, the antiquary; Nathaniel
Smith, the father of J. T. Smith; Mr John Ireland, then a watchmaker in
Maidenlane, and afterwards editor of Boydell’s edition of Dr Trusler’s
“Hogarth Moralised,” and several others. When this house was taken down
to make way for Dibdin’s theatre, called the Sans-souci, the club
adjourned to the COACH AND HORSES, in Castle Street, Leicester Fields.
But, in consequence of the members not proving customers sufficiently
expensive for that establishment, the landlord one evening venturing to
let them out with a farthing candle, they betook themselves to Gerard
Street and thence to the BLUE POSTS in Dean Street, where the club
dwindled to two or three members and at last died out.
An amusing anecdote is told about the Feathers, Grosvenor Street West. A
lodge of Oddfellows was held at this house, into the private chamber of
which George, Prince of Wales, one night intruded very abruptly with a
roystering friend. The society was, at the moment, celebrating some of
its awful mysteries, which no uninitiated eye may behold, and these were
witnessed by the profane intruders. The only way to repair the sacrilege
was to make the Prince and his companion “Oddfellows,” a title they
certainly deserved as richly as any members of the club. The initiatory
rites were quickly gone through, and the Prince was chairman for the
remainder of the evening. In 1851 the old public-house was pulled down
and a new gin palace built on its site, in the parlour of which the
chair used by the distinguished Oddfellow is still preserved, along with
a portrait of his Royal Highness in the robes of the order.
Among the badges and arms of countries and towns, the national emblem
the Rose is most frequent, and has been so for centuries. Bishop Earle
observes, “If the _vintner’s Rose_ be at the door it is sign sufficient,
but the absence of this is supplied by the ivy-bush.” Hutton, in his
“Battle of Bosworth,” says that “upon the death of Richard III., and the
consequent overthrow of the York faction, all the signboards with white
roses were pulled down, and that none are to be found at the present
day.” This last part of the statement, we believe, is true, but that the
White Roses were not all immediately done away with appears from the
fact that, in 1503, a _White Rose_ Tavern was demolished to make room
for the building of Henry VII.’s chapel in Westminster; that tavern
stood near the chapel of Our Lady, behind the high altar of the abbey
church. At present, however, as the rose on the signboard represents in
the eye of the public simply the Queen of Flowers,--its heraldic history
having been forgotten long ago,--it is painted any colour according to
taste, or occasionally gilt. Long after the famous battles between the
White and Red Roses had ceased, the custom was continued of adding the
colour to the name of the sign. Thus, in Stow, “Then have ye one other
lane called Rother Lane, or _Red Rose_ Lane, of such a sign,” &c. In
Lancashire we meet, in one or two instances, with the old heraldic
flower, as at Springwood, Chadderton, Manchester, where the RED ROSE OF
LANCASTER is still in full bloom on a publican’s signboard.
Skelton’s “Armony of Byrdes” was “imprynted at Londo’ by John Wyght
dwelling in Poule’s Church yarde at the sygne of the Rose.” Machyn, in
his Diary, mentions many instances:--“The vij day of Aprill (1563) at
seint Katheryns beyond the Toure, the wyff of the syne of the Rose, a
tavarne, was set on the pelere for ettyng of rowe flesse and rostyd
boyth,” which in our modern English means that she was put in the
pillory for breaking fast in Lent.
The Rose Tavern in Russell Street, Covent Garden, was a noted place for
debauchery in the seventeenth century; constant allusions are made to it
in the old plays. “In those days a man could not go from the Rose Tavern
to the Piazzi once but he must venture his life twice.”--_Shadwell, the
Scowrers_, 1691. “Oh no, never talk on’t. There will never be his
fellow. Oh! had you seen him scower as I did; oh! so delicately, so like
a gentleman! How he cleared the Rose Tavern!”--_Ibid._ In this house,
November 14, 1712, the duel between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun
was arranged, in which the latter was killed. In the reign of Queen Anne
the place was still a great resort for loose women; hence in the “Rake
Reformed,” 1718--
“Not far from thence appears a pendant sign,
Whose bush declares the product of the vine,
Where to the traveller’s sight the full-blown _Rose_
Its dazzling beauties doth in gold disclose,
And painted faces flock in tallied cloaths.”
Hogarth has represented one of the rooms of the house in his “Rake’s
Progress.” In 1766 this tavern was swallowed up in the enlargements of
Drury Lane by Garrick, but the sign was preserved and hung up against
the front wall, between the first and second floor windows.[154]
Two other Roses, not without thorns, are mentioned by Tom Brown:--
“Between two Roses down I fell,
As ’twixt two stools a platter;
One held me up exceeding well,
Th’ other did no such matter.
The Rose by Temple Bar gave wine
Exchanged for _chalk_, and filled me,
But being for the _ready coin_,
The Rose in Wood Street killed me.”
The “Rose by Temple Bar” stood at the corner of Thanet Place. Strype
says it was “a well customed house, with good conveniences of rooms and
a good garden.” Walpole mentions a painted room in this tavern in his
letters of January 26 and March 1, 1776. The Rose in Wood Street was a
spunging-house: “I have been too lately under their [the Bayliffs’]
clutches, to desire any more dealings with them, and I cannot come
within a furlong of the _Rose spunging-house_ without five or six yellow
boys in my pocket to cast out those devils there, who would otherwise
infallibly take possession of me.”--_Tom Brown’s Works_, iii. p. 24.
Innumerable other Rose inns and taverns might be mentioned, but we will
conclude with noting the Rose Inn at Wokingham, once famous as the
resort of Pope and Gay. There was a room here called “Pope’s room,” and
a chair was shown in which the great little man had sat. It is also
celebrated in the well-known song of Molly Mog, attributed to Gay, and
printed in Swift’s “Miscellanies.” “This cruel fair, who was daughter of
John Mog, the landlord of that inn, died a spinster at the age of 67. Mr
Standen of Arborfield, who died in 1730, is said to have been the
enamoured swain to whom the song alludes. The current tradition of the
place is, that Gay and his poetic friends having met upon some occasion
to dine at the Rose, and being detained within doors by the weather, it
was proposed that they should write a song, and that each person present
should contribute a verse: the subject proposed was the Fair Maid of the
Inn. It is said that by mistake they wrote in praise of Molly, but that
in fact it was intended to apply to her sister Sally, who was the
greater beauty. A portrait of Gay still remains at the inn.”[155] The
house at present is changed into a mercer’s shop.
Sometimes the Rose is combined with other objects, as the ROSE AND BALL,
which originated in the Rose as the sign of a mercer, and the Ball as
the emblem or device which silk dealers formerly hung at their doors
like the Berlin wool shops of the present day. (_See_ under _Ball_.) The
ROSE AND KEY was a sign in Cheapside in 1682.[156] This combination
looks like a hieroglyphic rendering of the phrase, “under the rose,” but
the key is of very common occurrence in other signs, as will be seen
presently.
The Scotch THISTLE AND CROWN is another not uncommon national badge,
adopted mostly by publicans of North British origin. The CROWN AND HARP
is less frequent; there is one at Bishop’s Cleeve, Cheltenham. Of the
CROWN AND LEEK we know only one example, viz., in Dean Street, Mile
End; but since both the rose and thistle are crowned, why not the leek
also? It is “a wholesome food,” according to Fluellen, and would no
doubt look just as well under a crown as in a Welshman’s cap. The
SHAMROCK also is of common occurrence, but we have never seen it
combined with the Crown.
Among heraldic signs referring to towns are the BIBLE AND THREE CROWNS,
the coat of arms of Oxford, which was not uncommon with the booksellers
in former times. To one of them, probably, belonged the carved stone
specimen walled up in a house at the corner of Little Distaff Lane and
St Paul’s Churchyard. Such a sign is also mentioned in a rather curious
advertisement in the _Postboy_, September 27, 1711:--
“THIS IS to give notice That ten Shillings over and above the Market
price will be given for the Ticket in the £1,500,000 Lottery, No. 132,
by Nath. Cliff at the Bible and Three Crowns in Cheapside.”
The _Spectator_ in his 191st number took occasion from this
advertisement to write a very amusing paper on the various lottery
superstitions with regard to numbers.
There is also an OXFORD ARMS Inn in Warwick Lane, Newgate Street; a
fine, old, galleried inn, with exterior staircases leading to the
bed-rooms. This was already a carriers’ inn before the fire, as appears
from the following advertisement:--
“THESE ARE to give notice that Edward Barlet, Oxford Carrier, hath
removed his Inn in London from the Swan at Holborn Bridge, to the
Oxford Arms in Warwick Lane, where he did inne before the fire. His
coaches and waggons going forth on their usual days, Mondays,
Wednesdays, and Fridays. He hath also a hearse with all things
convenient to carry a corps to any part of England.”[157]
The BUCK IN THE PARK, Curzon Street, Derby, is the vernacular rendering
of the arms of that town, which are--a hart cumbant on a mount, in a
park paled, all proper. The THREE LEGS was the sign of a bookseller
named Thomas Cockerill, over against Grocer’s Hall, in the Poultry,
about 1700. Sometimes his house is designated on his publications as the
THREE LEGS AND BIBLE. These three legs were the Manx arms. It is still a
not uncommon alehouse sign. There is one, for instance, in Call Lane,
Leeds, which is known to the lower classes under the jocular
denomination of “_the kettle with three spouts_.”
County arms also are sometimes represented on the signboards; as the
FIFTEEN BALLS, (which refer to the Cornish arms, fifteen roundles
arranged in triangular form) at Union Street, Bodmin, Cornwall; ONE AND
ALL, the motto of the county of Cornwall, occurs at Cheapside, St
Heliers, Jersey; and in Market Jew Street, Penzance. This motto has,
besides the advantage of being a hearty appeal to all the thirsty sons
of Bacchus, and will call to the mind of a thoughtful toper, the
relative position of _one_ and _many_, or _all_, as explained by the
_al-fresco_ artists, who decorate the pavement in Piccadilly--“Many can
help one, one cannot help many.” The STAFFORDSHIRE KNOT is common in the
pottery districts; besides these almost every county is represented by
its own arms, such as the NORTHUMBERLAND ARMS, &c., but about these
nothing need be said.
The THREE BALLS of the pawnbrokers are taken from the lower part of the
coat of arms of the Dukes of Medici, from whose states, and from
Lombardy, nearly all the early bankers came. These capitalists also
advanced money on valuable goods, and hence gradually became
pawnbrokers. The arms of the Medici family were five bezants azure,
whence the balls formerly were blue, and only within the last half
century have assumed a golden exterior, evidently to gild the pill for
those who have dealings with “my uncle;” as for the position in which
they are placed, the popular explanation is that there are two chances
to one that whatever is brought there will not be redeemed.
The LION AND CASTLE, of which there are a few instances, (Cherry Garden
Stairs, Rotherhithe, for example,) need not be derived from royal
marriage alliances with Spain, as it may simply have been borrowed from
the brand of the Spanish arms on the sherry casks, and have been put up
by the landlord to indicate the sale of genuine Spanish wines, such as
sack, canary, mountain.
The FLOWER DE LUCE was a frequent English sign in old times, either
taken from the quartering of the French arms with the English, or set up
as a compliment to private families who bear this charge in their arms
or as crest. The preface of “Edyth, the lying widow,” ends with these
words:--
“In the cyte of Exeter by West away
The time not passed hence many a day,
There dwelled a yoman discret and wise,
At the siggne of the Flower de lyse
Which had to name John Hawkyn.”