CHAPTER XVI.

MISCELLANEOUS SIGNS.

Signs which could not well be classed under any of the former divisions will find their place in this chapter, and hence a motley gathering may be expected. As in all inquiries it is proper to begin with the a. b. c., we shall do so here. The A. B. C. was the sign of Richard Fawkes, a bookseller, as the imprint of his works says:--

“In the suburbss of the famous Cytye of Lōdon, withoute Templebarre dwellynge in Durresme rentes [part of Durham House, where now the Adelphi stands] or else in Powles churche-yerde at the sygne of the A. B. C. The year of our Lorde MCCCCCXXX.”

This, we must admit, was a very reasonable sign for a “man of letters.” Continental booksellers also employed it; amongst others, Jacob Pietersz Paetsy, of Amsterdam, in 1597; in the Hague such a sign gave its name to a street. About 1825 there was a public-house in Clare Market called the A. B. C., where the alphabet from A to Z was painted over the door. Even at the present day many public-houses are called the LETTERS; thus there are two in Shrewsbury, two in Carlisle, one in Oldham, and others in various places. GRAND A is a public-house near East Dereham, Norfolk. LITTLE A was the sign of a tobacconist in Leadenhall Street, _circa_ 1780; his tobacco-papers, preserved among the Banks bills, were adorned with a portrait of “Sir Jeffrey Dunstan, or Old Wigs,” one of the mayors of Garrat, styled “Old Wigs” from his practice of buying those articles, by which he made an honourable living before ambition flamed his soul and he entered upon a political career. GRAND B may be seen at Long Framlington, Morpeth; Q INN at Staleybridge; and Q IN THE CORNER in Sheffield. Rhyming alphabets and nursery rhymes present us with the first and last, but the second we confess is somewhat mysterious: the _Crowned Q_, (au Q COURRONNE,) which was an old sign in the Rue de la Ferronière, Paris, is easy enough to understand, and one of those broad Rabelaisian strokes of humour which the public delighted in a century or two ago; indeed the sign continued in its old quarters until 1828. The Y was formerly a mercer’s sign in France, and may have originated from the custom of tying ribbons up in festoons, when they would assume somewhat the shape of that letter. It was also the sign of Nicholas Duchemin, a bookseller in Paris, 1541-1576. He, however, took a Pythagorean view of this letter, and considered it, as the freemasons do, an emblem of the double path of life, the broad way leading to destruction, the narrow way unto life; hence the top of the left hand branch terminated in flames, the right hand in a crown. The idea was evidently borrowed from Matt. vii. 13, unless it be from Persius, who says--

“Et tibi quæ Samios deduxit litera ramos, Surgentem dextro monstravit limite callem.”

Z was formerly a grocer’s sign in this country, and was said to stand for Zinzibar, (ginger,) but this Z after all was perhaps only a corruption of the figure 4 which, we are informed, is or was a constant grocer’s sign in some parts of Scotland, as for instance in Stirling, implying that their provisions came from the four quarters of the world. NUMBER IV is still the sign of an ale-house at 74 Hope Street, Salford, Manchester. NUMBER THREE is to be seen at Great Layton, near Blackpool. In 1633 it was the sign of a bookseller, Jean Brunet, in the Rue Neuve S. Louis, Paris. He says on the imprints of his books, _au Trois de chiffres_, in contradistinction to the Roman numerals, which at that time were not named _chiffres_ but _nombres_; chiffres applied only to the Arab numerals. The latter were introduced by Pope Silvester II. (999-1003) who, having studied at Seville, acquired them from the Moors.

The BELL is one of the commonest signs in England, and was used as early as the fourteenth century, for Chaucer says that the “gentil hostelrie that heighte the Tabard,” was “faste by the Belle.” Most probably bells were set up as signs on account of our national fondness for bell-ringing, which procured for our island the name of the “ringing island,” and made Handel say, that the bell was our national musical instrument; and long may it be so! We confess to have derived infinitely more pleasurable feelings from hearing the melodious bells on a summer afternoon ringing through the clear air and sending their sweet sounds over corn-field and meadow, over brook and stream, than from any cavatina or cantata, sung by the dearest paid Italians in crowded operas, and at over-heated concerts. Paul Hentzner, a German traveller, who visited this country in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, says, “the English are vastly fond of noises that fill the air, such as firing of cannon, beating of drums, and _ringing of bells_; so that it is common for a number of them to go up into some belfry, and ring bells for hours together for the sake of exercise.” Aubrey makes a similar remark; and, for further reference, we may go to Sir Symonds D’Ewes, who writes in his “Memoirs,” that, in 1618, he was ringing the large bell of St John’s College, Cambridge, for exercise, when the great comet was in the heavens; the consequence was, that he got entangled in the ropes, and nearly fractured his skull, whereupon he wisely resolved not to ring so long as the mischievous comet was to be seen. Generally, for a merry peal, the different toned octave bells are rung in succession; then changes are introduced, which, by continually altering, the succession of the bells produces a most pleasing effect. A peal of bells usually consists of eight, hence the frequency of the EIGHT BELLS; besides these, there are the FOUR BELLS, the FIVE BELLS, the SIX BELLS, the TEN BELLS; the EIGHT RINGERS, (Norwich and elsewhere,) the OLD RING O’ BELLS, Wolverhampton, Birmingham, &c. THREE SWANS AND PEAL, Walsall, Staffordshire; the NELSON AND PEAL, also in Warwickshire, and many others mentioned in a previous chapter. In some old belfries, the rules and fines of the ringers are painted in rhymes on the walls; as for instance, in St John’s Church, Chester, (dated 1687,) in All Saints’ Church, Hastings, (dated 1756,) &c. One of the oldest BELL taverns in Middlesex stood in King Street, Westminster; it is named in the expenses of Sir John Howard, (Jockey of Norfolk,) in 1466. Pepys dined at this house, July 1, 1660, invited by purser Washington; but came away greatly disgusted, for, says he, “the rogue had no more manners than to invite me, and let me pay my club.” In November of the same year, he was there again, “to see the 7 flanders mares that my Lord has bought lately.” In Queen Anne’s reign, the October club, consisting of about one hundred and fifty county members of Parliament, all unmitigated Tories, used to meet at this tavern. The BELL, in Warwick Lane, Newgate Street, is another example of the old London coaching inns, still in its original condition, the galleries being propped up to prevent their falling down: everything about the place has a seventeenth century look,--the country carts, the chickens here in the very heart of the city, the inn kitchen with its old black clock, its settles and white benches, the very smell of the cookery going on seems more homely and old English than the hot greasy vapours emanating from the areas of modern taverns. Coming into this yard from the adjacent crowded streets, is like entering a latter-day Pompeii. It was at this inn that Archbishop Leighton, the honest, steady advocate of peace and forbearance, died in 1684.

“He often used to say that if he were to choose a place to die in, it should be an Inn; it looks like a pilgrim’s going home, to whom this world was all as an Inn, and who was weary of the noise and confusion in it. He added, that the officious tenderness and care of friends was an entanglement to a dying man; and that the unconcerned attendance of those that could be procured in such a place would give less disturbance. And he obtained what he desired.”[671]

At the BELL, in the Poultry, lived, in the reign of King William and Queen Anne, Nathaniel Crouch, the famous bookseller, who was the first to condense great and learned works into a small and popular form. He generally wrote under the name of “John Burton.” His “Historical Rarities in London and Westminster,” was one of the books Dr Johnson, in his old age, desired to read again in remembrance of the pleasure derived from their teaching in the days of his youth.

At Finedon, three miles from Wellingborough, there is an old inn, called the BELL, having for a sign the portrait of a female with the following lines beneath:--

“Queen Edith, lady once of Finedon, Where at the Bell good fare is dined on.”

The BELL INN, kept by John Good, at Oxford, has:--

“My name, likewise my ale, is good, Walk in and taste my own home brew’d; For all that know John Good can tell, That, like my sign, it bears the Bell.”

There was a GOLDEN BELL, in St Bride’s Lane, Fleet Street, in the reign of Queen Anne, next door to which lived Lydia Burcraft, a female hairdresser, who, as appears from her bill,[672] sold an infallible pomatum to make the hair grow long and curly. The BLACK BELL is mentioned by Stowe, p. 81:--

“Above this lane’s [Crooked Lane] end upon Fish Hill Street, is one great house, for the most part built of stone, which pertained some time to Edward the Black Prince, son to Edward III., who was in his lifetime lodged there. It is now altered to a common hostelry, having the Black Bell for a sign.”

The Monument now stands on the site of this house.

The Bell occurs in innumerable combinations, most of which seem to have no particular meaning, but simply to arise from the old custom of quartering signs. Among them, we may mention the BELL AND ANCHOR, Hammersmith, which was much visited by the fashion in the beginning of the reign of George III. Representations of the place and its visitors may be seen in several of the caricatures of that period, published by Bowles and Carver, of St Paul’s Churchyard. It is still in existence, but its days of glory are past, for, instead of youth and beauty, and “names known to chivalry,” its customers now mostly consist of the Irish labourers who live in the lanes and back slums of North End. Further, we meet with the BELL AND LION, Crew, Cheshire; the BELL AND BULLOCK, Netherem, Penrith, probably united on account of the alliteration; the BELL AND CUCKOO, Erdington, near Birmingham; and the BELL AND CANDLESTICK, also in Birmingham.

The BELL AND CROWN is very common, and withal is a reasonable combination, for the bell has, from time immemorial, been rung to express the loyalty of the nation on royal entries, whether into the world or into a town, on occasion of royal marriages or deaths, at times of great victories and declarations of peace, and other loyal celebrations. Hence many bells are inscribed with the words, “=Fear God, honour the King=,” which, in the beginning of the eighteenth century, seems also to have been a common inscription on the sign of the Bell.[673] This sentiment was thus versified by a sign-painter, who evidently had more loyalty than poetical genius:--

“Let the King Live Long, Dong Ding, Ding Dong.”

Few signs have so often been wrongly explained as the BELL SAVAGE, on Ludgate Hill. Stow, generally so accurate, says it received its name from one Isabella Savage, who had given the house to the company of cutlers. Where he gathered that information we do not know, but he was “burning,” as the children say, and was certainly much nearer the truth than the _Spectator_, who states that it was called after a French play of “la Belle Sauvage.” The “Antiquarian Repertory,” following Stow, asserts that the inn was once the property of the Lady Arabella Savage, familiarly called “Bell Savage,” which name was represented in a rebus by a wild man and a bell, and so it was always drawn on the panels of the coaches that used to run to and from it, until the railways changed our style of travelling. The true origin of the name is manifest from a document in the Clause Roll, 31 Henry VI.[674]

“D. Script, irrot. Frenssh.

Omnib; Xpi fidelib; ad quos p’sens Scriptum p’ven. Joh’nes Frenssh, filius primogenitus Joh’is Frenssh, Gentilman, quondam civis et aurifabri London’ salutem in Domino. Sciatis me dedisse, concessisse, et hoc p’senti scripto meo confirmasse, Johanne Frenssh, vidue, matri mee, totum teñ sive hospicium, cum suis p’ten’, vocat’ Savagesynne, alias vocat’ le Belle on the Hope, in parochia S’ce Brigide in Fletestreet, London’, h’end et tenend, totum p.’dc̃m ten’ sive hospicium, cum suis p’t’ in p’fat’ Johanne ad t’minū vite sue, absq’ impeticõe vasti. In cugis rei testimoniū, &c.”[675]

In the sixteenth century, the Belle Savage appears to have been a place of amusement. “Those who go to Paris garden, the _Bel Savage_, or theatre, to behold bear-baiting, interludes, or fence play, must not account of any pleasant spectacle unless they first pay one penny at the gate, another at the entry of the scaffold, and a third for quiet standing.”[676] One of the attractions about that period was Banks’s wonderful horse, Marocco, which here performed his tricks before a half-admiring, half-awe-stricken audience, many of whom doubtless considered the animal a witch, if not a devil. “To mine host of the Bel Sauage and all his honest guests,” was dedicated the satirical tract of “Marocco Extaticus,” in which this horse is introduced.[677] During the civil wars we find this inn mentioned as apparently a Royalist house: “Upon search at Bell Savage (by order of Parliament) great quantities of plate were found, intended for York, but stayed by order.”[678] A very odd accident happened in this inn during the terrific storm of November 26, 1703. A Mr Hempson, we are told, was blown in his sleep out of an upper room window, and knew nothing of the storm nor of his aerial voyage, till awaking, he found himself lying in his bed on Ludgate hill. No doubt the good wine of mine host must have had something to do with this miraculous flight.[679] Having been for centuries a coaching inn, its name spread to the provinces, and some inn-keepers copied its sign, whence we meet with LA BELLE SAUVAGE, Macclesfield, and in one or two other places.

Balls were extremely common in former times, frequently in combination with other objects; this arose from the custom of the silk mercers in hanging out a GOLDEN BALL. Constantine the Great adopted a golden globe (termed _Hesa_) as the emblem of his imperial dignity, on which, after he embraced Christianity, he placed a cross, and with this addition it continues as one of the insignia of royalty at the present day. The early silk-mercers adopted this golden globe, or ball, as their sign, because in the middle ages, all silk was brought from the East, and more particularly from Byzantium and the imperial manufactories there, whence it was called _serica Constantinopolitana_, _pannus imperialis_, _Basilica_, de _Basilicio_, ρηγικον, &c. The Golden Ball continued as a silk-mercer’s sign until the end of the last century, when it gradually fell to the Berlin wool shops, and with them it continues at the present day.

Balls of various colours were invariably the signs of quacks and fortune-tellers in the eighteenth century; the Bagford Bills are full of Red, Blue, Black, White, and Green Balls, all signs of those gentry who profess to cure all the evils flesh is heir to. How they came to choose this sign is hard to say, for we can scarcely imagine that they were intended to represent magnified pills. Moorfields[680] was the head-quarters of this trade:--

“If in Moorfields a Lady stroles Among the _Globes_ and _Golden Balls_, Where ere they hang she may be certain Of knowing what shall be her fortune. Her husband too, I dare to say, But that she better knows than they.”

_Compleat Vintner_, London, 1720, p. 38.

The Golden Ball was the sign of J. Osborne, bookseller in Paternoster Row, _circa_ 1740, who printed one of the earliest “London Directories;” also of Doctor Forman in Lambeth Marsh, who was deeply implicated in the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury in 1613. The TWO GOLDEN BALLS at the upper end of Bow Street, Covent Garden, was a place famous for concerts, balls, and other amusements, in the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth century. Prince Eugene once attended a concert at this house. The TWO WHITE BALLS, in Marylebone Street, was the sign of a school in 1712, where Latin, French, mathematics, &c., were taught; in the same house there also lived a clergyman who taught “to write well in _three_ days.”[681]

The balls of the silk mercers and the quacks, suspended from an iron above the door, were generally added (in name at least) to the painted sign, when the house possessed one; as, for instance, the BALL AND CAP, Hatton Garden, 1668; the BALL AND RAVEN, Spitalfields, in the seventeenth century, (both on trades tokens;) the RED BALL AND ACORN, Queen Street, Cheapside, “a [quack] gentlewoman, daughter of an eminent physician in 1722;”[682] the PLOUGH AND BALL, at Nuneaton; the SALMON AND BALL, several in London; the BIBLE AND BALL, a bookseller’s in Ave Maria Lane, 1761; the HEART AND BALL, a silk-mercer’s in Little Britain, 1710; the GREEN MAN AND BALL, on a trades token of Charter House Lane, where the man is represented throwing a ball; and thus innumerable other combinations with the Ball might be mentioned.

The THREE BLUE BALLS, generally a pawnbroker’s sign, was also in old times used for taverns and other houses, while pawnbrokers used at pleasure such signs as the BLACKAMOOR’S HEAD, the BLACK DOG AND STILL, &c.[683] On 26th March 1668, Pepys tells us that, coming from the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, he and his party went to the BLUE BALLS tavern in the same locality, where they met some of their friends, including Mrs Knipp;

“And after much difficulty in getting of musick, we to dancing and then to a supper of French dishes, which yet did not please me, and then to dance and sing, and mighty merry we were till about eleven or twelve at night, with mighty great content in all my company, and I did, _as I love to do_, enjoy myself. My wife extraordinary fine to-day, in her flower tabby suit, bought a year and more ago, before my mother’s death put her into mourning, and so not worn till this day, and everybody in love with it, and, indeed, she is very fine and handsome in it. I having paid the reckoning, which came to almost £4, we parted.”

What a delightful flow of animal spirits that old Secretary of the Admiralty enjoyed! Alas, for the awful dignity of his modern successors!

There is still a public-house sign of the Blue Balls, at Newport, I.W.

The RING AND BALL, Fenchurch Street, 1700, seems suggested by the game of pall mall, recently revived under the name of croquet, in which a ball was struck by a mallet through an iron ring. This sign is mentioned in an advertisement of some valuable trinkets which had been lost:--

“A gold watch in a plain case, made by Thompson, with the hours of the day only; a gold chain, pear fashion, two lengths, with a gold watch-hook of Filegrin Indian work, and hung on it a diamond locket, large diamonds with hair in the middle and death at length on a tombstone; another diamond locket, less diamonds, with a cypher in hair; a red cornelian set in gold engraved with a head; a plain locket with A. K. in golden letters; a civet-box with a white stone, and engraved on it outwards a small head and a camel [cameo?] Whosoever stops them if offered to be pawned or valued, and gives notice to Mr Hankey at the _Ring and Ball_ in Fenchurch Street, shall have 5 guineas for the whole, or proportionable for any part.”[684] A small inducement to honesty!

The BAT AND BALL is a common sign for public-houses frequented by cricketers; also the CRICKETERS’ ARMS, the FIVE CRICKETERS, and many others. The WRESTLERS obtain their name from a sport formerly in great favour in this country, and still cultivated in some parts. At Yarmouth an inn of that name is more celebrated for the _jeu d’esprit_ of the immortal Nelson than anything else. When the fleet was riding in the Yarmouth roads, the landlord, desirous of the patronage of the blue-jackets, requested permission to call his house the Nelson Arms. His lordship gave him full power to do so, but at the same time reminded him that his _arms_ were only in the singular number.

“Odium quod certaminibus ortum ultra metum durat,”

says Velleius Paterculus, and the truth of the assertion is exemplified in the old national antipathy betwixt this country and our neighbours across the channel, whence the ANTIGALLICAN (the name assumed by a London association in the middle of the last century) could not fail to be a favourite sign. At present this feeling exists to only a very small extent in the minds of our lower orders; but formerly a Frenchman could not pass through the streets of London with impunity. Stephen Perlin, a French ecclesiastic, who wrote in 1558 a description of England, Scotland, and Ireland, says:--

“The people of this country have a mortal hatred for the French as their ancient enemies, and in common call us _France chenesve_ [French knave], France dogue, which is to say, French rascals and French dogs. They also call us _or son_.”

Grosley[685] devotes a whole chapter to this subject, and tells us that the French were ridiculed on the stage, and insulted and ill-treated in the streets. Even at the present day, when the penny romances are in want of a melodramatic villain, a Frenchman is sure to have the honour of personating him.

At the beginning of this century there was a tavern of this name in Shire Lane, Temple Bar, kept by Harry Lee, of sporting notoriety, and father of Alexander Lee, the first and “original _tiger_,” in which capacity he was produced by the notorious Lord Barrymore. This tavern was much frequented by his lordship and other gentlemen fond of low life, pugilism, and so-called sport. The nicknames of the brothers Barrymore will give a tolerably good idea of their amiable qualities; the eldest was called _Hellgate_; the second _Cripplegate_, (he was lame,) and the third _Newgate_, so styled, because, though an honourable and a reverend, he had been in almost every gaol in England except Newgate. This interesting family circle was completed by a sister, called _Billingsgate_, on account of the forcible and flowery language she made use of. The Antigallican is still in vogue, as there are three public-houses with that sign in London, besides some in the country, and an ANTIGALLICAN ARMS at New Charlton, Kent.

On the 29th of September 1783, the first balloon--or air-balloon as it was then called--was let off at Versailles, in the presence of Louis XVI. and the Royal Family. A sheep was the first aeronaut, and with this freight, in a cage, the balloon rose to a height of about 200 yards, floated over a part of Paris, and came down in the Carrefour Maréchal. The novelty was at once taken hold of by caricaturists, ballad-mongers, writers of comic articles, and also by the sign-painters. One of the first balloon-signs in London was that of the BALLOON FRUIT-SHOP, in Oxford Street, near Soho Square.[686] As those primitive balloons were, in the opinion of the vulgar, filled with _smoke_, the tobacconists considered them as within their province, and thus it became a favourite device with this class of shops. Several of their tobacco papers are preserved in the Banks collection. One has the following legend:--“The best Virginia under the Balloon.” Another, “Smoke the best balloon.” A third, “The best air-balloon tobacco,” &c. Some of these balloon-cuts will be found in our illustrations. One of them represents a balloon ascending, and two smokers standing beneath; one says, “I wish them a good voyage;” the other, “Smoak the balloon.” As a sign, the BALLOON, or AIR-BALLOON, is still not uncommon, and may be seen at Kingston, Hants, Birdlip, Gloucester, &c.

The BLACK DOLL, hung at the doors of rag and marine store-dealers, probably originated in these shops buying old clothes and finery, which was sold to the buccaneers and coasting-traders, who exchanged them with the natives of Africa and America, for gold, ivory, furs, &c.; just as we see at the present day, Mr Abraham, or Mr Isaacs, constantly advertising in the _Times_ for our “Left-off clothes for Australia and the Colonies.” The popular legend, however, has spread a halo of romance around the black doll. Once upon a time, an ancient dame came to a rag-shop in Norton Folgate, with a bundle of old clothes, which she desired to sell, but having no time to spare, she left them with the man to examine, promising to call for the money next day. The rag-merchant opened the bundle and found amongst the clothes a pair of diamond ear-rings, and a black doll. Anxious to restore the diamonds, (as may be imagined,) he expected the old woman to call day after day, but in vain; at last, thinking that she might have forgotten the house, he hung up the black doll at the door, but the old woman never came, and the doll hung until it rotted away, when it was replaced by a new one. The novelty of the object attracted many customers to the house, other ragmen imitated it, and so it finally became a sign, one which is now fast dying away, and being supplanted by coarse coloured prints, with absurd rhymes.

At the castles of the nobility the weary traveller formerly found food, shelter, and good “herborow;” the lower hall was always open to the adventurer, the tramp, the minstrel, and the pilgrim; the upper hall to the nobleman, the squire, the wealthy abbot, and the fair ladies. It was natural, then, that the CASTLE should at an early period have been adopted as a sign of “good entertainment for man and beast.” Such a sign became historical in the Wars of the Roses; for the Duke of Somerset, who had been warned to “shun castles,” was killed by Richard Plantagenet, at an ale-house, the sign of the Castle.

“For underneath an ale-house’ paltry sign, The Castle in Saint-Albans, Somerset Hath made the Wizard famous in his death.”

2 _Henry VI._, ac. v., sc. 2.

According to Hatton,[687] in 1708, the Castle Tavern in Fleet Street had the largest sign in London; next to it came the WHITE HART Inn, on the east side of the Borough, in Southwark.

In the reign of George I., the Castle, near Covent Garden, was a famous eating-house, kept by John Pierce, the Soyer of his day. Here the gallant feat was performed of a young blood taking one of the shoes from the foot of a noted toast, filling it with wine, and drinking her health, after which it was consigned to the cook, who prepared from it an excellent _ragout_, which was eaten with great relish by the lady’s admirers.

The CASTLE AND FALCON (probably a combination of two signs, as there is a Falcon Court close by,) is the sign of an inn in Aldersgate, which house, or one on its site, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was occupied by John Day, the most considerable printer and publisher of his time. In after years the house became a famous coaching inn, and its reputation spread to all parts of England, whence we meet, at present, with Castles and Falcons in various towns, as at Birmingham, Chester, &c. Although we incline to the opinion that the sign arose from a combination, still it is worthy of remark, that the crest of Queen Catherine Parr was a crowned falcon, perched on a castle, and of course represented as large as the castle.

The THREE OLD CASTLES occurs at Mandeville, near Somerton; the CASTLE AND BANNER at Hunny Hill, Carisbrooke, originating in the banner floating from the castle turret, when the Lord of the Manor was residing there. CASTLES IN THE AIR is to be seen at Lower Quay, Fareham; the origin seems to be an allusion to the ordinary sign swinging in mid-air--a piece of humour on the part of the landlord. The CASTLE AND WHEELBARROW, at Rouse Lench, was, doubtless, another innkeeper’s notion of suggestive humour--but he was a dull wit.

Perhaps the most patriarchal of all signs is the CHEQUERS, which may be seen even on houses in exhumed Pompeii. On that of Hercules, for instance, at the corner of the Strada Fullonica, they are painted lozenge-wise, red, white, and yellow, and on various other houses in that ancient city, similar decorations may still be observed. Originally it is said to have indicated that draughts and backgammon were played within. Brand, in his “Popular Antiquities,” ignorant of any existence of the sign in so remote a period as that mentioned, says that it represented the coat of arms of the Earls of Warenne and Surrey, who bore checqui or and azure, and in the reign of Edward IV., possessed the privilege of licensing ale-houses. A more plausible explanation, and one which is not set aside by the existence of the sign in Pompeii, is that given by Dr Lardner:--

“During the middle ages, it was usual for merchants, accountants, and judges, who arranged matters of revenue, to appear on a covered banc, so called from an old Saxon word, meaning a seat, (hence our Bank.) Before them was placed a flat surface, divided by parallel white lines, into perpendicular columns; these again divided transversely by lines crossing the former, so as to separate each column into squares. This table was called an Exchequer, from its resemblance to a chess-board, and the calculations were made by counters placed on its several divisions, (something after the manner of the Roman abacus.) A money-changer’s office was generally indicated by a sign of the chequered board suspended. This sign afterwards came to indicate an inn or house of entertainment, probably from the circumstance of the innkeeper also following the trade of money-changer--a coincidence still very common in seaport towns.”[688]

Chaucer’s Merry Pilgrims put up in Canterbury, at the sign of the “Checker of the Hope,” (_i.e._ the Chequers on the Hoop.)

“They took their in and loggit them at mydmorowe, I trowe, Atte _cheker of the Hope_ that many a man doth knowe.”

_Ludgate’s Continuation of the Canterbury Tales._

This inn (says Mr Wright, in his edition of the above work) is still pointed out in Canterbury, at the corner of High Street and Mercery Lane, and is often mentioned in the Corporation Reports, under the title of the _Chequer_. It is situated in the immediate vicinity of the Cathedral, and was therefore appropriate for the reception of the pilgrims.

When the inn had another sign besides the Chequers, these last were invariably painted on the door-post; an example of this may still be seen at the SWISS COTTAGE, Chelsea. In or near Calcots Alley, Lambeth, was formerly situated an inn or house of entertainment called the Chequers. In the year 1454 a licence was granted to its landlord, John Calcot, to have an oratory in the house and a chaplain for the use of his family and guests, as long as his house should continue orderly and respectable, and adapted to the celebration of divine service.[689] The BLACK CHEQUERS in Cowgate, Norwich, is so called on account of the chequers being black and white, whilst others are red and white, blue and white, or in such other contrast as may be fancied by the publican.

The CROOKED BILLET is a sign, for which we have not been able to discover any likely origin; it may have been originally a ragged staff, or a pastoral staff, or a _baton cornu_--the ancient name for a battle-axe.[690] It is also the name for a part of the tankard. Frequently the sign is represented by an untrimmed stick suspended above the door, as at Wold Newton, near Bridlington, where it is accompanied by the following poetical effusion on one side of the signboard:--

“When this comical stick grew in the wood, Our ale was fresh and very good; Step in and taste, O do make haste, For if you don’t ’twill surely waste.”

On the other side:--

“When you have viewed the other side, Come read this too before you ride, And now to end we’ll let it pass; Step in, kind friends, and take a glass.”

Though a very rustic sign, it was also used in towns; thus it occurs among the trades tokens of Montague Close, and was the sign of Andrew Sowle, a bookseller in Holloway Lane, Shoreditch, in 1683.

The GOLDEN HEAD appears to have been a favourite with artists, probably a classic or modern bust gilded. It was the sign of Hogarth’s master and of himself.

“Hogarth made one essay in sculpture. He wanted a sign to distinguish his house in Leicester Fields; and thinking none more proper than the Golden Head, he out of a mass of cork made up several thicknesses compacted together, carved a bust of Van Dyke, which he gilt and placed over his door. It is long since decayed, and was succeeded by a head in plaister, which has also perished, and is succeeded by a head of Sir Isaac Newton.”--_Nichols’s Anecdotes of Hogarth._

At this sign in 1735 Hogarth published the “Harlot’s Progress,” and several other engravings. Sir Robert Strange the engraver (1721-92) lived at the Golden Head, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden; and in 1762 the portrait of Cunneshote, one of the Cherokee chiefs, then on a visit to this country, was for sale at the Golden Head in Queen Square, Ormond Street; it was engraved after a painting by Francis Parsons. In 1700 it was the sign of a Monsieur Desert, “almost over against the King’s Bagnio in Long Acre, who sold guitars from 30 gs. to 30 sh. a piece.”[691] Thomas Carte the historian (1686 to 1754) lived at Mr Ker’s at the Golden Head, Newport Street, Long Acre. This sign also occurs in a most amusing advertisement:--

“_An Exceeding Small Lap Spaniel._

ANY ONE THAT has (to dispose of) such a one, either dog or bitch, and of any colour or colours, that is very, very small, with a very short round snub nose, and good ears, if they will bring it to Mrs Smith, at a coachmaker’s over against the _Golden Head_ in Great Queen Street, near Lincoln’s Inn Fields, they shall (if approved of) have a very good purchaser. And to prevent any further trouble, if it is not exceeding small, and has anything of a longish peaked nose, it will not at all do. And nevertheless after this advertisement is published no more, if any person should have a little creature that answers the character of the advertisement, if they will please but to remember the direction and bring it to Mrs Smith; the person is not _so_ provided but that such a one will still at any time be hereafter purchased.”--_Daily Advertiser_, Nov. 1744.

The TWO HEADS was the sign of a dentist in Coventry Street in 1760. One head probably represented the mouth as possessing a fine set of teeth; the other doubtless showed how unfortunate is their absence. The advertisements of this man are gems in their way:--

“Ye Beauties, Beaux, ye Pleaders at the Bar, Wives, Husbands, lovers, every one beside, Wh’d have their heads deficient rectify’d, The Dentist famed who by just application Excels each other operator in the Nation, In Coventry’s known street, near Leicester Fields, At the _Two Heads_ full satisfaction yields. Teeth artificial he fixes so secure, That as our own they usefully endure; Not merely outside show and ornament But ev’ry property of Teeth intent; To eat, as well as speak, and form support The falling cheeks and stumps from further hurt. Nor is he daunted when the whole is gone, But by an art-peculiar to him known, He’ll so supply you’ll think you’ve got your own. He scales, he cleans, he draws; in Pain gives Ease, Nor in each operation doth fail to please. Doth the foul scurvy fierce your Gums assault? In this he also rectifies the Fault By a fam’d Tincture. And his Powder nam’d A Dentifrice is also justly fam’d. Us’d as directed ’tis excellent to serve Both teeth and gums, cleanse, strengthen, and preserve; Foul mouth and stinking breath can ne’er be loved. But by his aid those evils are removed.”

_London Evening Post_, July 1760.

Taylor the Water poet (1632) mentions two taverns with the sign of the MOUTH, the one without Bishopsgate, the other within Aldersgate. Trades tokens of the first house are extant, representing a human head with a huge mouth wide open. An inventory is still extant of the stock in trade of this house in the year 1612,[692] which is not uninteresting. From it we gather that the wines drunk at that period in taverns were white wine, Vin de Grave, (a small white Burgundy wine,) Orleans wine, Malaga, sherry, sack, Malmsey, (Malvasia, a wine from the coast of Morea, sweet and white,) Alicante, (also sweet,) claret, &c. Beer seems to have been but little asked for by those that frequented this house; for whilst some of the wines were kept in such large quantities as seven hogsheads, there were only two dozen and eight bottles of ale. The names of the rooms in the house were “the Pomegranate,” “the Portcullis,” “Three Tuns,” “Cross Keys,” “Vine,” “King’s Head,” “Crown,” “Dolphin,” and “Bell,” all of them favourite tavern signs, and (as remarked on page 280) the usual names for tavern rooms. Among the utensils may be remarked fifteen silver bowls.

The MERRY MOUTH is still a sign at Fifield, Chipping Norton.

The HAND was the sign of a victualler near the Marshalsea in Southwark, in 1680. Hands occur in many combinations, owing to the custom of draughtsmen and sign-painters representing a hand issuing from the clouds to perform some action or hold some object; thus a hand holding a coffee-pot was a very general coffee-house sign. The “Hand” seems to have been a bad or evil sign:--

“I’ll go back to the country of the coffee-houses, [Fleet Street,] where being arrived I’m in a wood, there are so many of them I know not which to enter; stay, let me see, where the sign is painted with a _woman’s hand_ in it, ’tis a bawdy house, where a _man’s_ it has another qualification; but where it has a star in the sign ’tis calculated for every lewd purpose.”[693]

Though this is a sweeping denunciation, yet we find the HAND AND STAR occurring as the sign of a very respectable bookseller, Richard Tothill in Fleet Street, within Temple Bar, who in 1553 printed the “Dialogue of Comfort,” by Sir Thomas More. Not unlikely Tothill had adopted this sign from the watermarks in paper, for one of the most ancient of them is a hand, either in the position of giving benediction, or in that position called the upright hand, with a star above it. Messrs Butterworth, the law-publishers, who now occupy Tothill’s premises, possess all the leases and documents from the time of that old printer down to the present day.

Quacks, also, were very fond of a hand in their sign, pointing to an eye or an ear, to intimate that the great doctor cured the blind or the deaf. Thus, in the Harleian collection (5931) there is a handbill of S. Ketelby, sworn physician, who lived at the HAND AND EAR, in Exeter Street near the Strand, and who professed to cure deafness, lameness, &c.

“He is capable now, not only of curing those incurable by others, but even those he could not cure himself six months ago! Note: He resolves all persons deaf from external causes, whether curable or not, in two minutes, in the dark as well as at noonday, which no _other_ pretender can do,” &c.

The HAND AND FACE was the sign of another quack, who lived in Water Lane, Blackfriars, near Apothecaries’ Hall, in 1735.[694]

A few combinations of the hand refer to games, as the HAND AND BALL, Barking, (trades token,) 1650, which seems to be derived from some of the innumerable games at ball in which our ancestors delighted, such as handball, tennis, balloon or windball, stoolball, hurling, football, stowball, pallmall, clubball, trapball, northen-spell, cricket, bowling, &c. The HAND AND TENNIS, Whitcombe Street, Haymarket, is so called from the adjoining Tennis Court, erected in 1678. The OLD HAND AND TANKARD is a public-house sign at Wheatly, near Halifax. The HAND AND TENCH seems to point to a connexion with the followers of Isaac Walton; it was a mug-house in Seven Dials in 1717. The mugs in those days used to be suspended above the door, or on the sign-iron, not only in this, but in all the mug-houses, for the mug might be considered as much a badge of King George’s friends, as the white cockade was the badge of the Jacobites.

The HAND AND HEART was, in 1711, the very appropriate sign of a marriage insurance office in East Harding Street, Shoe Lane.[695] Two right hands holding a heart was a very old symbol of concord. Aubrey gives quotations from Tacitus, by which he derives it from the Romans, and adds:--

“I have seen some rings made for sweethearts with a heart enamelled held between two hands. See an Epigrame of G. Buchanan, on two rings that were made by Q. Elisabeth’s appointment, which, being laid one upon the other, shewed the like figure. The heart was two diamonds, w^{ch} joyned, made the Heart. Q. Elisabeth kept one moietie, and sent y^{e} other as a token of her constant friendship to Mary Q. of Scotts; but she cutt off her head for all that.”[696]

The HEART IN HAND is still a common ale-house sign. A similar meaning is conveyed by the equally common HAND IN HAND or CROSS HANDS; at Turnditch, Derby, this sign is called the CROSS O’ THE HANDS, and a corruption of this again is the CROSS IN HAND, at Waldron, Sussex. The Hand in Hand was also one of the usual signs of the marriage-mongers in Fleet Street. Pennant says:--

“In walking along the streets in my youth, on the side next this prison, (the Fleet,) I have often been tempted by the question, ’Sir, will you be pleased to walk in and be married.’ Along this most lawless space was most frequently hung up the sign of a male and female hand conjoined, with ‘Marriages performed within’ written beneath. A dirty fellow invited you in; the parson was seen walking before his shop, a squalid, profligate figure, clad in a tattered plaid nightgown, with a fiery face, and ready to couple you for a dram of gin or a roll of tobacco.”

The two hands conjoined is also common in France--where it is called _à la bonne Foi_. In 1624 it was the sign of Pierre Billaine, bookseller and printer in the Rue St Jacques, Paris.

The LEG used formerly to be at the door of every hosier. It was also the sign of a tavern in King Street, Westminster, frequented by Pepys. Trades tokens are extant of the LEG AND STAR, kept by Richard Finch, in Aldersgate, in the seventeenth century. It may have represented a leg with the garter round it, and the star of that order; but more probably it was a combination of two signs.

The OLD MAN, Market Place, Westminster, was probably intended for Old Parr, who was celebrated in ballads as “The Olde, Olde, Very Olde Manne.” The token represents a bearded bust in profile, with a bare head. In the reign of James I. it was the name of a tavern in the Strand, otherwise called the Hercules Tavern, and in the eighteenth century there were two coffee-houses, the one called the OLD MAN’S, the other the YOUNG MAN’S Coffee-house.

The FOUNTAIN was a favourite sign with the Londoners before the Reformation, perhaps on account of its connexion with the martyrdom of St Paul, whose head, says the legend, on being struck off, rebounded three times, when a fountain gushed up at each spot where the sacred head had touched the ground. Hence there is a church near Rome, in the midst of the desolate Campagna, called San Paolo delle Tre Fontane, where altars are raised over each of those three fountains. There is also a fountain connected with the martyrdom of St Alban, the English protomartyr, and Saints’ Wells may be met with all over the kingdom.

During the Plague of 1665, the following advertisement used to figure constantly in the papers:--

“MONSIEUR AUGIER’S famous Remedies for stopping and preventing the plague having not only been recommended by several certificates from Lyons, Paris, Thoulouse, &c., but likewise experimented here by the special directions of the Lords of his Majesty’s most honourable Privy Council, and proved by Witnesses upon oath, and several Tryals, to be of singular virtue and effect, are to be had at Mr Drinkwater’s, at the Fountain, in Fleet Street, &c.”[697]

Mr Drinkwater had evidently intended a pun by selecting a fountain as his sign.

The Fountain Tavern in the Strand was famous as the meeting-place of the ultra-loyal party in 1685, who here talked over public affairs before the meeting of Parliament. Roger Lestrange, who had been recently knighted by the king, took a leading part in these consultations. But “the fate of things lies always in the dark;” in the reign of George II. this same house became a great resort for the Whigs, who sometimes used to meet here as many as two hundred at a time, making speeches and passing resolutions.

For this reason it was proposed that Master Jephson the landlord should write under his sign:--

“Hoc Fonte derivata libertas In Patriam, Populumq: fluxit.”

“From this fam’d Fountain Freedom flow’d, For Britain’s and the People’s good.”

In this tavern, Law, subsequently famous as the Mississippi schemer, quarrelled with the magnificent and mysterious Beau Wilson; they left the house, adjourned to Bloomsbury Square, and fought a duel, in which the Beau was killed. The Kit Cat Club, in winter, used to meet at this house. This club was first established in an obscure house in Shire Lane; it consisted of thirty-nine distinguished noblemen or gentlemen, zealously attached to the Protestant succession of the house of Hanover. Among the members were the Dukes of Richmond, Devonshire, Marlborough, Somerset, Grafton, Newcastle, and Dorset, the Earls of Sunderland and Manchester, some lords, and Steele, Addison, Congreve, Garth, Vanbrugh, Manwaring, Stepney, Walpole, and Pulteney; Lord Mohun (implicated in the murder of Mountford the actor, and killed in a duel by the Duke of Hamilton) was also a member.

“The day Lord Mohun and the Earl of Berwick were entered of it, Jacob [Tonson, the secretary] said he saw they were just going to be ruined. When Lord Mohun broke down the gilded emblem on the top of his chair, Jacob complained to his friends, and said a man who would do that would cut a man’s throat.”[698]

Tonson, for fulfilling the duties of this honorary office, was presented with the portraits of all the members. After Jacob’s death, his brother Richard removed the pictures to his residence at Water Oakley, near Windsor. A list of them is to be found in Bray’s “History of Surrey,” vol. iii., p. 318. Forty-three of them have been engraved by Faber in mezzotint. The name of the club is said to have been derived from the first landlord, who was called Christopher Cat; he excelled in the making of mutton-pies, which were named after him Kit Cat, and were the standard dish of the club.

“Here did th’ assembly’s title first arise, And Kit Cat’s wits sprung first from Kit Cat’s pies.”

Next door to the Fountain Tavern lived Charles Lillie, the celebrated snuff-seller of the _Spectators_ and _Tatlers_, but “he was burnt out when he began to have a reputation in his way.”--(_Tatler_, xcii.)

The FOUNTAIN AND BEAR is a sign named in the following quaint imprint:--

“A Present for Teeming Women, or Scripture Directions for Women with childe; how to prepare for the hour of Travel. Written first for the private use of a Gentlewoman of quality in the West, and now published for the common good by John Oliver, _less than the least of saints_. Sold by Mary Rothwell, at the Fountain and Bear, in Cheapside, 1663.”

The SUN and the MOON have been considered as signs of Pagan origin, typifying Apollo and Diana. Whether or no this conjecture be true, would be difficult to prove, but certain it is that they rank among the oldest and most common signs, not only in England but on the Continent. Early in the sixteenth century the French poet Desiré Arthus wrote in his “Loyaulté Consciencieuse des Taverniers:”--

“Sur les chemins des grands villes et champs, Ne trouverez de douze maisons l’une, Qui n’ait enseigne d’un soleil, d’une lune. Tous vendant vin, chascun à son quartier.”[699]

Like the Star, (see p. 501,) the Sun did not enjoy a good reputation. Henry Peacham thus cautions young men from the country:--

“Let a monyed man or gentleman especially beware in the city, _ab istis calidis et callidis solis filiabus_ as Lipsius: these overhot and crafty daughters of the _Sunne_, your silken and gold laced harlots, everywhere (especially in the suburbs) to be found.”[700]

The reason of this sign having been especially adopted by that description of houses, we are unable to state, unless it be the one Tom D’Urfey gives in “Collin’s Walk through London,” where, speaking of a frail and fair one, he says:--

“And _like the Sun_, was understood To all mankind a common good.”

But as the sun shines alike over good and evil, so respectable as well as disreputable persons have used him for a sign; thus Wynkyn de Worde, in Fleet Street, and Anthony Kytson, another early printer, and the publisher of some works of Master John Skelton, poet laureate, carried on business under this device. Taylor the Water poet mentions three Sun taverns: being compelled one day on his “pennylesse pilgrimage,” to dine _à la belle étoile_, he says:--“I made virtue of necessity, and went to breakefast in the Sunne: I have fared better at three Sunnes many a time before now: in Aldersgate Street, Criplegate, and New Fish Street; but here is the oddss: at those Sunnes they will come vpon a man with a tauerne bill as sharp cutting as a taylor’s bill of items: a watchman’s bill or a watch hooke falls not halfe so heauy vpon a man.”[701] The Sun on Fish Street Hill is also named by Pepys:--

“Dec. 22, 1660.--Went to the Sun Tavern on Fish Street Hill, to a dinner of Captain Teddimans, where was my Lord Inchequin, (who seems to be a very fine person,) Sir W. Penn, Captain Cuttance, and Mr Laurence, (a fine gentleman now going to Algiers,) and other good company, where we had a very good dinner, good music, and a great deal of wine. I very merry--went to bed, my head aching all night.”

But the finest of all the Sun Taverns did not exist in Taylor’s time; it was built after the fire of 1666, behind the Exchange.

“Behind? I’ll ne’er believe it; you may as soon Persuade me that the sun stands behind noon.”

These are the opening lines of a ballad of 1672, entitled “The Glory of the Sun Tavern, behind the Exchange.”[702] From this ballad it is evident that the tavern was splendidly furnished, and offered comforts not generally to be met with at that time.

“There every chamber has an aquaeduct, As if the sun had fire for water truckt, Water as’t were exhal’d up to heavens sprouds, To cool your cups and glasses in the clouds.”

Pepys was a frequent visitor at this house, and, in fact, all the pleasure-seekers of that mad reign patronised it; the profligate Duke of Buckingham, in particular, was a constant customer. Simon Wadloe, the landlord, had made his fortune at the Devil in St Dunstan’s, whereupon he went to live in the country, and spent his money in a couple of years. He then “choused” Nick Colbourn out of the Sun, and Nick, who had amassed a handsome competence in the house, was easily persuaded to retire, and left it “to live like a prince in the country,” says Pepys. During the reign of Charles II., the house appears to have had an excellent custom, and was from morning till night full of the best company. The Sun Tavern, in Clare Street, was one of the haunts of the witty Joe Miller, and is often given as the locality of his jokes:--

“Joe Miller, sitting one day in the window of the Sun Tavern, Clare Street, a fish woman and her maid passing by, the woman cried: ‘Buy my soals, buy my maids!’ ‘Ah! you wicked old creature,’ cry’d honest Joe, ‘what, are you not content to sell your own soul, but you must sell your maid’s too?’”

A stereotype joke of the publican connected with the Sun is the motto, “the best liquor [generally beer] under the Sun,” which, of course, must be believed, for _Solem quis dicere falsum audeat?_ Sometimes the sign is called the SUN IN SPLENDOUR, as at Nottinghill, the “splendour” having reference simply to the golden beams or rays usually drawn by the painter. There is still a carved stone sign of the Sun, now gilt, dating from the seventeenth century, walled in the front of a house in the Poultry.

The GOLDEN SUN was the sign of Ulrich Gering, in the Rue St Jacques, Paris, printer of the first Bible in France, in 1475. At the end of the volume the Bible thus addresses the reader:--

“Jam tribus undecimus lustris Francos Ludovicus Rexerat; Ulricus, Martinus, itemque Michael Orti Teutonia, hanc mihi composuere figuram Parisii arte sua; me correctam vigilanter Venalem in vico Jacobi _Sol Aureus_ offert.”[703]

Their successor, Berthold Rumbold, on removing the business to another house in the same street, opposite the Rue Fromentel, kept the same sign, and there it continued as late as 1689, having constantly been in the hands of booksellers. Not improbably the first printers, both in England and abroad, adopted the sign of the Sun, as an emblem of the new era opened to the world by the invention of printing, which, when they reflected on their discovery, they saw would, at no distant period, spread an intellectual light over the world, as brilliant and as vivifying as that of the radiant sun.[704]

The sign of the Sun occurs in endless combinations, often capricious, without any other reason than a whim, and an alliteration, as the SUN AND SAWYERS; the SUN AND SWORD; the SUN AND SPORTSMAN; or quartered with other signs, as the SUN AND ANCHOR; DIAL; FALCON; LAST; HORSESHOE, &c. All these, and innumerable others of the same sort, occur among the London public-house signs of the present day. The SUN AND HARE is a stone carved sign, walled up in the façade of a house in the High Street, Southwark. Were it not for the initials H. N. A., it might be taken for a rebus on the name Harrison; as it is, it may be a jocular corruption of the Sun and Hart, the badge of Richard II. (See p. 109.)

The RISING SUN is nearly as common as the sun in his meridian; perhaps on account of the favourable omen it presents for a man commencing business. In 1726 it was the sign of a noted tavern in Islington, where some merry doings went on occasionally:--

“ON TUESDAY NEXT, being Shrove Tuesday, will be a fine hog barbygu’d whole at the house of Peter Brett, at the _Rising Sun_, in Islington Road, with other diversions. It is the house where the ox was roasted whole at Christmas last.”--_Mist’s Journal_, February 9, 1726.

To barbecue a hog, was a West Indian term for roasting a whole pig, stuffed with spice, and basted with Madeira wine.

The RISING SUN AND SEVEN STARS was the very appropriate sign, at which was printed a work on “Astrological Optics;” but better still, it was printed for R. _Moon_, whose shop was “in Paul’s Churchyarde, in the New Building, between the two North Doors. 1655.” An old jest-book says that an Irishman, seeing the sign of the Rising Sun was kept by A(nthony) Moon, accused the said Moon of having made a bull, for saying that the Sun was kept by the Moon.

One of the learned questions propounded by Hudibras to that cunning man, Sidrophel, the Rosicrucian, was:--

“Tell me but what’s the natural cause Why on a sign no painter draws The _full moon_ ever, but the _half_.”--_Hudibras_, part iii., c. 3.

This might be true in Butler’s time, but is no longer so; at Leicester, for instance, there are two signs of the FULL MOON, and it occurs in many other places. The Crescent, or HALF-MOON, was the emblem of the temporal power, as the Sun was the distinction of the spiritual.

Ben Jonson once desiring a glass of sack, went to the Half-Moon Tavern, in Aldersgate Street, but found it closed, so he adjourned to the Sun Tavern, in Long Lane, and wrote this epigram:--

“Since the Half Moon is so unkind, To make me go about, The Sun my money now shall have, And the Moon shall go without.”

The Half-Moon, Upper Holloway, was famous in the last century for excellent cheesecakes, which were hawked about the streets of London, by a man on horseback, and formed one of the London cries. This circumstance is noticed in a poem in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1743, entitled “A Journey to Nottingham.” In April 1747, the following advertisement appeared in the same magazine:--

“HALF-MOON TAVERN, Cheapside, April 13. His Royal Highness the _Duke of Cumberland_ having restored peace to Britain, by the ever memorable Battle of Culloden, fought on the 16th of April 1745, the _choice spirits_ have agreed to celebrate that day annually by A GRAND JUBILEE in the MOON, of which the Stars are hereby acquainted and summoned to shine with their brightest Lustre by 6 o’clock on Thursday next in the Evening.”

The CRESCENT AND ANCHOR is a sign at Norton-in-Hales, near Market Drayton; the HALF-MOON AND SEVEN STARS at Aston Clinton, near Tring; and the SUN, MOON, AND SEVEN STARS at Blisworth, in Northampton. These SEVEN STARS have always been great favourites; they seem to be the same pleiad which is used as a Masonic emblem--a circle of six stars, with one in the centre; but to tell to ears profane, what this emblem means, would be disclosing the sacred arcana. The SEVEN STARS was the sign of Richard Moone, before he was so ambitious as to place the whole firmament on his sign: in 1653 he printed--

“The first addresses to his Excellence the Lord General, &c., by John Spittlehouse, a late Member of the Army, and a servant to the Saints of the Most High God, &c. London, printed by J. C., for himself and Richard Moon, at the Seven Stars, in Paul’s Churchyard, near the great North Door. 1653.”

As a change upon the Seven Stars, a publican at Counterslip, Bristol, has put up the FOURTEEN STARS.

We have seen (p. 492) that the sign of the STAR was “calculated for every lewd purpose;” a great change certainly from mediæval times, when a star was the emblem of the Holy Virgin, who was thus styled _Maris Stella_ (star of the sea)--the signification of the name Miriam in Hebrew--or _Stella Jacobi_, (star of Jacob,) _Stella Matutina_, (morning star,) _Stella non erratica_, (fixed star, unerring star,) &c.; a star being always painted either on her right shoulder, or on her veil, as may be readily observed in the works of the early Italian masters in our National Gallery. A star of sixteen rays is the crest of the Innholders’ Company. Oliver Cromwell used to meet some of his party at the Star in Coleman Street, as was deposed by one of the witnesses in the trial of Hugh Peters:--

“_Gunter._ My Lord, I was servant at the Star in Coleman Street, with one Hildesley. That house was a house where Oliver Cromwell and several of that party did use to meet in consultation.”

John Bunyan died in 1682 at the Star, on Snowhill, in the house of his friend, Mr Strudwick, a grocer.

The POLE STAR is now a not uncommon sign. To make this device more intelligible, tavern-keepers ought to attach to it the motto it bore in the middle ages, when it was a symbol of the Church: “_qui me non aspicit errat_.” (He who does not look at me goes astray.) The STAR AND CROWN was the sign of a haberdasher in Princes Street, Coventry Street, 1785, who, among other things, sold “dress and undress hoops.”

The signs of the zodiac appear occasionally to have been adopted by conjurors and astrologers. Ned Ward describes them as figuring, in his time, on the door of “a star-peeper,” in Prescot Street.[705]

The TWO TWINS, or NAKED BOYS, was the sign of a quack in Moorfields, “near the steps going out of the Lower Field into the Middle Field. There is a door above the steps, and another below the steps, with the Twins, and the name Langham on both doors;--keep the bill to prevent mistaking the house or being sent to a wrong place.”[706] To such lengthy explanations our ancestors were compelled to resort in the absence of numbers on their houses. Either this quack had adopted the Two Twins on account of his obstetrical pretensions, or he was an astrologer as well as a quack, for Moorfields was the head-quarters of

“Augurs and soothsayers, astrologers, Diviners, and interpreters of dreams.”

In the last case he might have chosen it as being the ascendant of the city of London, which “stands in a benign and temperate climate, in the latitude of 52° and longitude of 19° 15´,--having (as artists reckon) the _celestial twins_, the house of Mercury, patron of merchandise and ingenious arts, for her ascendant.”[707]

The RAINBOW, in Fleet Street, opposite Chancery Lane, is the oldest coffee-house in London:--

“I find it recorded that one James Farr, a barber, who kept the coffee-house, which is now the Rainbow, by the Inner Temple gate, (one of the first in England,) was, in the year 1657, presented by the inquest of St Dunstan’s in the West, for making and selling a sort of liquor called Coffee, as a great nuisance and prejudice to the neighboorhood, &c., and who would have thought London would ever have had near three thousand such nuisances, and that coffee would have been (as now) so much drank by the best of quality and physicians.”[708]

The presentation here alluded to is still preserved among the records of St Sepulchre’s Church. It says:--

“We present James Farr, Barber, for making and selling a drink called coffee, whereby, in making the same, he annoyeth his neighboors by evill smells, and for keeping of fire the most part night and day, whereby his chimney and chamber has been set on fire, to the great danger and affreightment of his neighboors.”

This danger of fire was so much the greater, as a bookseller, Samuel Speedal, had his shop in the same house. In 1682, the Phœnix Fire Office, one of the first in this country, was established at this place.

The THUNDER STORM is the sign of a public-house at Framwellgate Moor, Durham; and the HAILSTONE, at Knowle, Staffordshire; both these houses may have taken their names from a severe storm, which visited the neighbourhood at or about the time of their opening, just as the HAYLIFT, at Wansforth, Northampton, is said to owe its origin to the fact of a man floating a long way down the river on a haycock, during an inundation, and landing near that place.

As for the WILD SEA, the sign of John Horton, over against Parson’s Brewhouse, Croydon,[709] in 1718, no more plausible explanation occurs to us than that John Horton might have been a sailor in his younger days.

The HOLE-IN-THE-WALL is believed to have originated from the hole made in the wall of the debtors’ or other prison, through which the poor prisoners received the money, broken meat, or other donations of the charitably inclined. The old sign of the Hole-in-the-Wall (see our illustrations) shows such an opening in a square piece of brickwork. Generally, it is believed to refer to some snug corner, perhaps near the town walls; but at the old public-house in Chancery Lane the legend is as we have given it. Hard by, in Cursitor Street, prisoners for debt found a temporary lodging up to a very recent date. Trades tokens are extant of this house, which, about 1820, was kept by Jack Randall, _alias_ Nonpareil, a famous member of the P.R.; on one occasion some verses were made containing the following lines:--

“Then blame me not, swells, kids, or lads of the fancy, For opening a lush crib in _Chancery_ Lane, An appropriate spot ’tis, you doubtless all can see, Since _heads_ I’ve oft placed there, and let out again.”

The poet, Thomas Moore, in the fast days when George IV. was king, and when pugilism and gin drinking were fashionable accomplishments, used to visit Mr Randall’s parlour. It was here that he picked up his materials for those rhyming satires on the politics and general topics of his time:--“Tom Crib’s Memorials to Congress, by one of the Fancy;” “Randall’s Diary of Proceedings at the House of Call for Genius;” “A Few Selections from Jack Randall’s Scrap Book, with Poems on the late Fight for the Championship.”

At the Hole-in-the-Wall in Chandos Street, Claude Duval the highwayman was taken prisoner; whilst the Hole-in-the-Wall in Baldwin’s Gardens was the citadel in which Tom Brown used to intrench himself from duns and bailiffs, with Henry Purcell the musician, as his companion in revelry and merriment. Tom Brown’s introductory verses, prefixed to Playford’s “Musical Companion,” 1698, are dated “from Mr Stewart’s at the Hole-in-the-Wall, in Baldwin’s Gardens.” Another Hole-in-the-Wall still exists in Kirby Street, Hatton Garden. It is a curious fact that the refreshment-room, or liquor-bar, attached to the House of Representatives at Washington, is known to most thirsty American politicians as _The Hole-in-the-Wall_.

Anciently, instead of being a painted board, the object of the sign was carved and hung within a hoop, hence (as we had occasion to remark on a former page) nearly all the ancient signs are called the “---- ON THE HOOP.” In the Clause Roll, 43 Edward III., we find the GEORGE ON THE HOOP; 26 Henry VI., the HART ON THE HOOP; 30 Henry VI., the SWAN, the COCK, and the HEN ON THE HOOP. Besides these we find mentioned the CROWN ON THE HOOP, the BUNCH OF GRAPES ON THE HOOP, the MITRE ON THE HOOP, the ANGEL ON THE HOOP, the FALCON ON THE HOOP, &c. In 1795, two of these signs were still extant, for a periodical of the time says:--“A sign of this nature is still preserved in Newport Street, and is a carved representation of a Bunch of Grapes within a Hoop. The COCK ON THE HOOP may be seen also in Holborn, painted on a board, to which, perhaps, it was transferred on the removal of the sign-posts.”[710] These hoops seem to have originated in the highly ornamented bush or crown, which latterly was made of hoops, covered with evergreens. In France, the HOOP (_le Cerceau_) was used as a sign. Jacques Androuet, a celebrated architect, and author of a work entitled “Les plus excellents Batiments de France,” lived at the sign of the Hoop, whence he adopted the surnames of Jacques Androuet du Cerceau. In 1570 he published a book on metal-work, containing several designs for ornamental iron frames and posts to suspend signboards from. That names in this country also were occasionally derived from signboards, has been stated in our introduction. Of this practice, Sir Peter Lely, the portrait painter, was an illustrious example. He belonged to a Dutch family named Van der Vaas. His grandfather was a perfumer, and lived at the sign of the Lily, (perhaps a _vase_ of lilies, with a pun on his name.) When his son entered the English army he discarded his Dutch name, and from the paternal sign, adopted the more euphonious one of Lilly or Lely; and this name he and his children afterwards retained. The famous Rothschild family is another case in point. From the RED SHIELD (the _roth schild_) above the door of an honest old Hebrew, in the Juden-gasse, (or Jews’ Alley,) at Frankfort, has been derived the name of the richest family in the world.

The HOOP AND BUNCH OF GRAPES was the sign of a public-house, in St Albans Street, (now part of Waterloo Place,) kept at the beginning of the present century, by the famous Matthew Skeggs, who obtained his renown from playing, in the character of Signor Bumbasto, a concerto on a broomstick, at the Haymarket Theatre, adjoining. His portrait was painted by King, a friend of Hogarth, engraved by Houston, and published by Skeggs himself. The HOOP AND GRIFFIN was a coffee-house in Leadenhall Street, _circa_ 1700;[711] and the HOOP AND TOY is a public-house in Thurloe Place, Brompton. Here the original meaning of the hoop seems entirely lost, as its combination with the toy seems to allude to the hoop trundled by children.

The TOY at Hampton used to be a favourite resort with the Londoners till 1857, when it was pulled down to make room for private houses. Trades tokens of this house of the seventeenth century are extant. “In the survey of 1653 (in the Augmentation office) mention is made of a piece of pasture ground near the river, called the _Toying_ place, the site, probably, of a well-known inn near the bridge now called the Toy.”[712]

Cardmakers usually took a card for their sign, as the QUEEN OF HEARTS AND KING’S ARMS, which was the sign of a cardmaker in Jermyn Street in 1803.[713] One of the Bagford Bills has: “At the OLD KNAVE OF CLUBS at the Bridgefoot, in Southwark, liveth Edward Butling, who maketh and selleth all sorts of hangings for rooms,” &c.[714] Possibly he sold also playing-cards. These knaves, however, seem at one time to have been a badge, for at the creation of seventeen knights of the Bath by Richard III., the Duke of Buckingham was “richely appareled, and his horse trapped in blue velvet embroudered with the _knaves of cartes_ burnyng of golde, which trapper was borne by foteman from the grounde.”[715] The QUEEN OF TRUMPS is a public-house sign at West Walton, near Wisbeach.

The HEART AND TRUMPET is a somewhat curious sign at Pentre-wern near Oswestry, perhaps a corruption of Hearts and Trumps. Other games have produced the sign of the GOLDEN QUOIT, in Whitehaven, and the CORNER PIN, which is so common that it figures in a Seven Dials ballad, a parody on the Low-back Car:--

“When first I saw Miss Bailey, ’Twas on a Saturday, At the _Corner Pin_ she was drinking gin, And smoking a yard of clay,” &c.

All bowlers know that the corner pins are the most difficult to strike, and that from their fall with the rest depends whether the throw counts double or not.

Formerly the merriest day of the year in “Merry England” was certainly the first of May, but of its many festivities scarcely a trace is left except the dance of the sweeps and the sign of the MAYPOLE. Stubbe, with puritanical horror, thus describes the Maypole:--

“They have twenty or fourtie yoke of oxen, every one having a sweet nosegay of flowers tyed on the tippe of his hornes, and these oxen draw home this Maie pole (this stinckyng Idoll rather) which is couered all ouer with flowers and hearbes bounde rounde aboute with stringes, from the toppe to the bottome, and sometyme painted with variable colours with two or three hundred men, women, and children following it with great devotion. And thus being reared up with handkerchiefs and flagges streaming on the toppe they strawe the ground aboute, binde green boughes aboute it, sett up sommer houses, Bowers, and Arbours hard by it. And then fall they to banquet and feast, to leape and daunce aboute it, as the Heathen people did at the dedication of their Idolles, whereof this is a perfect pattern, or rather the thing itself.”[716]

The same author also reports that it was customary for lads and lasses to go the night before May-day to the hills and woodlands to gather branches and flowers to deck the houses with on that day, and that they used to “spende all the night in pastymes” to the great detriment of female virtue; Featherstone, another sulky puritan, scandalised the fair sex by the assertion that “of tenne maydens which went to fetch May, nine of them came home with childe.”[717] The consequence of all this grumbling was that the Maypole was abolished in the godly times of the Commonwealth, and as a matter of course, revived at the Restoration--but its prestige was gone. At present it is only commemorated by hundreds of signboards. There is one on the outskirts of Hainault Forest, immortalised in “Barnaby Rudge,” which has all the regulations of the house laid down in rhyme; part of these have been quoted on p. 449. There is on the stable door:--

“Whosoever smokes tobacco here Shall forfeit sixpence to spend in beer. Your pipes lay by, when you come here, Or fire to me may prove severe.”

An old, and not uncommon sign, is the WHEEL OF FORTUNE, which may be seen at Alpington, Norwich, and in other places. This wheel is sometimes represented with four kings, one on each quadrant. In the middle ages it was a very common symbol, as well in England as on the continent, being frequently painted in churches; there is one still to be seen among the half obliterated frescoes of Catfield church in Norfolk. Other instances occur in the church of St Etienne, at Beauvais; in St Martin, at Basle; in San Zeno, at Verona; and in the beautiful pavement of the Duomo, at Sienna. Not only in those countries, but all over Europe, this device occurs as a sign. Peacham thus accounts for the wheel being chosen as the emblem of Fortune:--

“For like ourselves, the spoke that was on high Is to the bottom in a moment cast, As fast the lowest riseth by and by, All human things thus find a change at last.”

_Peacham’s Minerva Brittana_, p. 76.

The MONSTER, at one period an inn of some resort in Willow Walk, Chelsea, now a starting-point for the Pimlico omnibuses, is perhaps a corruption of the Monastery. Robert de Heyle in 1368 leased the whole of the manor of Chelsea to the abbot and convent of Westminster for the term of his own life, for which they were to allow him a certain house within the convent for his residence, to pay him the sum of £20 per annum, to provide him every day two white loaves, two flagons of convent ale, and once a year a robe of esquire’s silk. At this period, or shortly after, the sign of the Monastery may have been set up, to be handed down from generation to generation, until the meaning and proper pronunciation were forgotten, and it became “the Monster.” In still older times, viz., during the Norman rule, Chelsea appears to have been one of the manors of Westminster, so that the connexion between the village of Chelsea and the monastery of Westminster had been of very old standing. This tavern, we believe, is the only one with such a sign. Ned Ward mentions a GREEN MONSTER tavern in Prescott Street, but that may have been one of Ned’s jokes on the very common Green Dragon. The tavern in question was a very unlucky house, and not less than three or four landlords had failed in it, which was not to be wondered at, for the street appears at that time to have been one of the soberest in London. According to Ned, one “would walk by forty or fifty houses and not an alehouse.”[718]

The MILLION GARDENS, Strutton Ground, Westminster, was the singular name of the house where tickets might be obtained for a lottery of plate in 1718.[719] The name in reality refers to the “Melon Gardens,” which fruit was pronounced after the signboard orthography in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

Pepys, on the 3d of August 1660, informs us that he dined at an ordinary called the QUAKER, a somewhat unusual godfather for a sinful tavern. This house was situated in the Great Sanctuary, Westminster, and was only pulled down in the beginning of the present century to make way for a market-place, which in its turn has made room for a new sessions-house. Tull, the last landlord, opened a new public-house in Thieving Lane, and adorned the doorway of this house with twisted pillars decorated with vine-leaves, brought from the old Quaker tavern. J. T. Smith presents us with a view of this house in the additional plates to his “Antiquities of Westminster.”

The PILGRIM has been mentioned incidentally (on p. 434) as a sign at Coventry. There is another public-house of this name in Kew Lane. In 1833 a figure of a pilgrim was placed upon the roof of this house, which by concealed machinery moved to and fro like the Wandering Jew, doomed to wander up and down until the end of the world; it was, however, of contemptible workmanship, and very soon got out of order.

The GIPSY’S TENT occurs at Hagley, Stourbridge; the GIPSY QUEEN at Highbury and other places; and the QUEEN OF THE GIPSIES was the sign of the so-called gipsy house near Norwood. The queen alluded to was Margaret Finch, who died at the great age of 109 years; Norwood was her residence during the last years of her life, and there she told fortunes to the credulous. She was buried October 24, 1760, in a deep square box, as from her constant habit of sitting with her chin resting on her knees, her muscles had become so contracted that she could not at last alter her position. This woman, when a girl of seventeen, may have been one of the dusky gang pretty Mrs Pepys and her companions went to consult, August 11, 1668, which her lord duly chronicled in the evening: “This afternoon my wife and Mercer and Deb went with Pelling to see the gypsies at Lambeth, and have their fortunes told, but what they did I did not enquire.” A granddaughter of Margaret Finch, also a so-styled queen, was living in an adjoining cottage in the year 1800.

The TRUE LOVER’S KNOT is a sign at Uxbridge, the only example of it we have met with. In the North of England and in Scotland it is still the custom with betrothed lovers of the lower class to present each other with a curious kind of knot called “a true lover’s knot.” Brand says the word is not derived from true love, but from trulofa, Danish for _fidem do_. It was formerly a common present between lovers of all stations of life in England.

The FOLLY is not unusual; it is generally applied to a very ambitious, extravagantly furnished, or highly ornamented house; in such a sense it was already used in Queen Elizabeth’s reign:--

“Kirby Castle and _Fisher’s Folly_ Spinola’s Pleasure and Megse’s Glory.”

One of the most notorious “Follies” was an edifice of timber divided into sundry rooms, with a platform and balustrade on the top, which in the reign of Charles II. floated in the Thames above London Bridge. At first it was very well frequented, and the beauty and fashion of the period (Pepys amongst them, April 13, 1668,) used to go there on summer evenings, partake of refreshments on the platform, and enjoy the breeze on the river (then guiltless of the modern sewers and filth.). On one occasion Queen Mary honoured it with a visit, accompanied by some of her courtiers. Gradually, however, it took to evil courses; loose and disorderly females were admitted, and unrestrained drinking and dancing soon gave it an unenviable notoriety. In this condition it was visited by Tom Brown, who describes it with his usual coarse vigour: “This whimsical piece of Architecture was designed as a musical Summer-house for the entertainment of quality where they might meet and ogle one another; but the Ladies of the Town finding it as convenient a rendez-vous, overstock’d the place with such an inundation of harlotry, that dashed the female quality out of countenance, and made them seek some more retired conveniency.” He next describes the company in very glowing colours, but found it such a confused scene of folly, madness, and debauchery, that he--no very bashful person--was compelled to return to his boat “_without drinking_!”[720] At length the place became so scandalous that it had to be closed; it went to decay, and at last was sold for firewood.

The sign of the BLUE-COAT BOY, usually chosen by toy-shops, printsellers, and colourmen, was either in compliment to the scholars of King Edward VI.’s foundation, Christ’s Hospital,--commonly called “the Blue Coat School,” from the blue tunic of the lads, or was named after the Bridewell Boys, _i.e._, foundlings and deserted children, who wore a blue coat and trousers, with a white hat. Until the end of the last century they used to attend at all the fires with the Bridewell engine, but on the whole they were an unruly mischievous set. There was a BLUE COAT coffee-house in Sweeting’s Alley, near the Exchange, in 1711.[721] At present it is generally called the BLUE BOY, as at Old Swinford, Stourbridge; Minchinhampton, Gloucester, and in a few other places. In Islington there is still such a sign, and in Aldersgate Street, if we remember rightly, there is an ironmonger with such a decoration.

A very strange sign occurs amongst the Banks Bills. On a shop-bill dated 1698, is the following inscription: “At the signe of the TARE lives one Mr Grenier who makes all sorts of good rasors, lancets, sisers, very well, and all other sorts of instruments for chirugeons.” The engraving represents two angels holding a _tear_ by a string, surrounded by a quantity of surgical instruments, after the true meat-axe type, and vicious-looking enough to “draw tears of molten brass from the eyes of Pluto himself.”

The WEARY TRAVELLER occurs at Sutton Road, Kidderminster; the TRAVELLER’S REST in a great many places, sometimes accompanied by the phrase REST AND BE THANKFUL, which last advice serves as a sign to two public-houses at Whitehaven. Finally the FINISH was the sign of a notorious night-house in Covent Garden, kept at the beginning of the present century by a Mrs Butler. Here, according to “Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress,” the gentlemen of the road used to divide their spoil in the gray dawn of the morning, when it was time for the night-birds to fly to their roost. Crib (in reality Thomas Moore the poet, see p. 503) says that the congress is:--

“Some place that’s like the _Finish_, lads, Where all your high pedestrian pads That have been _up_ and _out_ all night, Running their rigs amongst the rattlers,[722] At morning meet, and, honour bright, Agree to share the blunt and tatlers.”

This house was originally named the Queen’s Head, but was nicknamed the _Finish_ from its being the place where the fast men of the day generally “finished off.” Ned Shuter was at one time a drawer in this house, but, inspired by the neighbourhood of the theatres, he left the pots and bottles and took to the stage. Down to a recent date it was a gloomy disreputable coffee-house, kept by one Smith, and here, in interdicted hours, beer and spirits could be obtained when all the public-houses were closed. It was pulled down very recently. These last four signs have in a measure been the expression of the authors’ minds: who, weary of their long task, and fearful of having fatigued their readers, will now betake themselves to _rest_, and _be thankful_ if they have given a few hours’ entertainment upon the subject of signboards. They now take their leave in the words of an old ballad:--

“Then faire fall all good tokens, And well fare a good heart, For by all _signs_ and _tokens_ ’Tis time for to depart.”

[671] Burnet’s Own Times, vol. ii., p. 426, ed. 1823.

[672] Harl. MSS., 5931. Bagford Bills.

[673] See _Craftsman_, Sept. 30, 1738.

[674] Archæologia, xviii., p. 198.

[675] “To all true Christian people to whom this present writing shall come: John Frenssh, eldest son of John Frenssh, gentleman, late citizen and goldsmith of London, sends greeting in our Lord. Know ye that I have given, granted, and by this my present writing confirmed to Joan Frenssh, widow, my mother, all that tenement or inn, with its appurtenances, called Savage’s Inn, otherwise called the Bell on the Hoop, in the parish of St Bride, in Fleet Street, London, to have and to hold the aforesaid tenement or inn, with its appurtenances, to the said Joan, for the term of her life, without impeachment of waste. In witness whereof,” &c. (here follow the names of six witnesses.) Dated at London the 5th day of February, in the thirty-first year of the reign of King Henry VI. after the conquest.

[676] Lambarde’s Perambulation of Kent. 1576.

[677] See Bosom’s or Blossoms Inn, under “Legendary and Biblical Signs,” p. 297.

[678] Speciall Passages from Westminster, London, York, &c., June 26-July 5, 1642.

[679] Pamphlet in the Harleian Miscellany. Index, vol. x. This dreadful storm is said to have caused more damage than the fire of 1666. Bishop Kedder and his wife were killed in it by the fall of a house in which they were sleeping. Admiral Beaumont was shipwrecked and lost with nearly the whole of his ship’s company. The Eddystone lighthouse was blown down and swallowed by the sea, with its architect, Mr Henry Winstanley. A sermon is still yearly preached at Little Wild Street Baptist Chapel, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, in memory of this fearful storm, a Mr John Taylor, bookseller of Paternoster Row, having left £40 to it as a thank-offering for his miraculous preservation at the time of the occurrence.

[680] After having been for a long time one of the most secure strongholds of the devil, a godly garrison was sent into Moorfields at the end of the last century. The _Gazetteer_, 10th September 1790, has the following paragraph:--“So numerous are become the _Gospel shops_ in the vicinity of Moorfields, that like Monmouth Street, the proprietors employ “pluckers in” on Sundays to inveigle customers. The cant phrase at the door is, “Good sound doctrine here in perfection.””

[681] _Postboy_, Jan. 1, 1711-12.

[682] Advertisements in the _Weekly Journal_ for that year.

[683] Both named in the _Daily Courant_ for 1718.

[684] _London Gazette_, Nov. 18-21, 1700.

[685] Tour to London, vol i., p. 84. “A perfectly fair judge, and writing in the true spirit of a philosopher,” says his translator. Grosley remarks that the foreigners would be in the wrong to complain of the rude insults of the lower classes, since even “the better sort of Londoners” liberally show their hatred to the French whenever they can find an opportunity.

[686] Banks Bills, dated 1787.

[687] “New View of London.” 1708, p. 9.

[688] Dr Lardner’s Arithmetic, p. 44.

[689] Allen’s History of Lambeth.

[690] Siege of Carlaeverock, c. 11:--

“--on li respont De grosses pierres et _cornues_.”

[691] _London Gazette_, April 29-May 2, 1700.

[692] Printed in Nichols’s Illustrations of Manners and Expenses in Ancient Times, 1797.

[693] Tom Brown’s Amusements for the Meridian of London, p. 71.

[694] _Country Journal or Craftsman_, Feb. 1, 1734-5.

[695] _Postman_, 1711.

[696] Aubrey, Remains of Gentilisme and Judaisme. Lansdowne MSS., No. 231.

[697] _The Intelligencer_, Sept. 4, 1665.

[698] Spence’s Anecdotes, ed. by Singer, p. 337.

[699] “On the roads near large towns and in the country, you will not find one house in twelve but it does exhibit the sign of the Sun or the Moon. They all sell wine, each of them to his own neighbourhood.”

[700] Henry Peacham’s Art of Living in London, 1642.

[701] Taylor’s Pennylesse Pilgrimage, 1630.

[702] Luttrell Ballads, ii., fol. 92.

[703] “Already had Louis XI. reigned fifteen years over the French when Ulrich and Martin [Crantz] and Michel [Friburger,] all natives of Germany, produced me in this shape at Paris by their art; carefully corrected, I am now offered for sale in the Rue St Jacques, at the Golden Sun.”

[704] This idea is in a measure set forth in some lines on the titlepage of “Gasparini Pergamensis Epistolarium opus per Joannem Lapidarium Sorbonensis Scholæ Priorem multis vigiliis ex corrupto integrum affectum ingeniosa arte impressoria in luce redactum,” 1470, beginning:--

“Ut sol lumen sic doctrinam fundis in Orbem.”

[705] _London Spy_, part xiii., p. 319, 1706.

[706] Handbill in Harleian Collection, p. 5964.

[707] A Compleat Description of London, Harl. MSS., 5953, vol. i.

[708] Hatton’s New View of London, 1708, p. 30.

[709] _Weekly Journal_, Sept. 27, 1718.

[710] _Looker-On_, Jan. 1795.

[711] _London Gazette_, Dec. 9-12, 1700.

[712] Lyson’s Historical Account of Parishes in Middlesex, p. 75.

[713] Banks Bills.

[714] Harleian MSS., 5962.

[715] Grafton’s prose continuation of John Harding’s Chronicle, p. 189.

[716] Stubbe’s Anatomy of Abuses, London, 1585, p. 94.

[717] Featherstone’s Dialogue against Light and Lascivious Dancing.

[718] _London Spy_, part xiii., p. 320, 1706.

[719] _Weekly Journal_, Jan. 18, 1718.

[720] Tom Brown’s Walk round London.

[721] _Daily Courant_, Jan. 27, 1711.

[722] Carriages.

APPENDIX.

BONNELL THORNTON’S SIGNBOARD EXHIBITION.

On the evening of Tuesday, 23d of March 1762, the ladies and gentlemen of London were informed at their tea-tables, by means of the _St James’s Chronicle_, of the following fact:--

“PROSCRIPT.”

INTELLIGENCE EXTRAORDINARY.

“_Strand._ The Society of Manufactures, Art, and Commerce, are preparing for the annual Exhibition of Polite Arts, hoping by Degrees to render this Nation as eminent in Taste as War; and that, by bestowing Præmiums, and encouraging a generous Emulation, among the Artists, the Productions of Painting, Sculpture, &c., may no longer be considered as Exotics, but naturally flourish in the Soil of Great Britain.”

Immediately under this notice was the following:--

“_Grand Exhibition._ The Society of Sign-painters are also preparing a most magnificent Collection of Portraits, Landscapes, Fancy Pieces, Flower Pieces, History Pieces, Night Pieces, Sea Pieces, Sculpture Pieces, &c., &c., designed by the ablest Masters, and executed by the best Hands in these kingdoms. The Virtuosi will have a new Opportunity of displaying their Taste on this Occasion, by discovering the different _Stile_ of the several Masters employed, and pointing out by what _Hand_ each Piece is drawn. A remarkable _Cognoscente_ who has attended at the Society’s great Room, _with his Glass_, for several Mornings, has already piqued himself on discovering the famous Painter of the _Rising Sun_, a modern _Claude Lorraine_, in an elegant Night-piece of the _Man-in-the-Moon_. He is also convinced that no other than the famous Artists who drew the _Red Lion at Brentford_, can be equal to the bold figures in the _London ‘Prentice_, and that the exquisite Colouring in the Piece called Pyramus and Thisbe must be by the same hand as the _Hole-in-the-Wall_.”

Shortly after this advertisement, the Exhibition was opened. It was held in Bonnell Thornton’s chambers in Bow Street: the hours were from nine till four, admission one shilling. The tickets had a catalogue prefixed to them. The names of the signboard-painters given in this catalogue were those of the journeymen printers in Mr Baldwin’s office, where it was printed. Hagarty alone was a transparent variation on the name of Hogarth, who had largely contributed to the fun and humour of the Exhibition.

The opening of the saloons was the signal for a perfect storm among the newspapers. The artists and their friends were terribly ruffled, and persisted in seeing in it a _persifflage_ of their exhibition just then opened in the Strand. To this animosity, however, we owe all the particulars of the signs exhibited. Catalogues, criticisms, and reviews of the Exhibition were daily brought before the public, giving full details. The most important of them we present to our readers:--

BY PERMISSION.

A CATALOGUE _of the Original Paintings, Busts, Carved Figures, &c., &c., &c., Now exhibiting by the Society of Sign-Painters, at the Large Rooms, the Upper End of Bow Street, Covent Garden, nearly opposite the Play-House Passage_.

_In the Large Passage Room._

[_N.B._--That the Merit of the Modern Masters may be fairly examined into, it has been thought proper to place some admired Works of the most eminent Old Masters in this Room, and along the Passage thro’ the Yard.]

No.

1. [_Over the Door._] A Coach and Four, Supposed to be by _Stanhope_.

2. WINDSOR, or any other CASTLE. By _Mason_. The CENTINEL and GREAT GUN by another Hand.

3. HAND and LOCK OF HAIR. Hand unknown.

4. A PANDOUR, or INDIAN PRINCE, uncertain which. _Stanhope’s_ undoubtedly.

5. A SHIP AND CASTLE. _Thomas Knife_ written under. But it is not known whether this is the name of the Artist or the Publican.

6. A HEN AND CHICKENS. By _Lodge_.

7. THREE NUNS. The Drapery copied from a _Bas-Relief_ at Rome. By _Soames_.

8. An original Whole-Length of GUY OF WARWICK. By _the same_.

9. A MAJOR WIG. By _Harrison_. [_N.B._--The Tails appear to have been added.]

10. A BARGE, in Still-Life. By _Van der Trout_. [He cannot properly be called an English artist; not being sufficiently encouraged in his own Country, he left _Holland_ with William the Third, and was the first artist who settled in _Harp Alley_.[723]]

11. The HERCULES PILLARS. The Architecture by _Young Soames_. THE FIGURE (from the _Farnesian Hercules_) by the _Father_.

12. An HEROE’S HEAD, unknown. By _Moses White_. With the least alteration, may serve for an Heroe past, present, or to come.

13. An original Three Quarters Length of KING CHARLES THE SECOND: a striking Likeness. By _Ditto_.

_In the Passage through the Yard._

1. A FLYING SWAN,--by some supposed to be a Dying one. By _Goustry_.

2. An HALF-MOON. By _Masmore_.

3. An Original Half Length of CAMDEN, the great Historian and Antiquary, in his Herald’s Coat. By _Van der Trout_. [As this Artist was originally Colour Grinder to _Hans Holbein_, it is conjectured there are some of the great Master’s Touches in this Piece.]

4. A BUTTOCK OF BEEF stuft. By _Lynne_.

5. An HAIR-CUTTER. By _the same_.

6. ADAM AND EVE. The first Attempt of that famous Artist, _Barnaby Smith_.

7. A BLACK PRINCE. By _Hitchcock_.

8. [_Over the Entrance._] An HOLY LAMB; highly finished. By _the same_.

GRAND ROOM.

[The Society of SIGN-PAINTERS take this Opportunity of refuting a most malicious Suggestion, that their Exhibition is designed as a Ridicule on the Exhibitions of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, &c., and of the Artists. They intend theirs as only an Appendix, or (in the Stile of Painters) a Companion to the others. There is nothing in their Collection, which will be understood by any Candid Person as a Reflection on any Body, or any Body of Men. They are not in the least prompted by any mean Jealousy to depreciate the Merits of their Brother Artists. Animated by the same Public Spirit, their sole View is to convince Foreigners as well as their own blinded Countrymen, that however inferior this Nation may be unjustly deemed in other Branches of the Polite Arts, the Palm for SIGN-PAINTING must be universally ceded to US, the _Dutch_ themselves not excepted.]

1. PORTRAIT of a justly celebrated PAINTER, though an Englishman and a Modern.

2. A CROOKED BILLET, formed exactly in the _Line of Beauty_,[724] its Companion. These by _Adams_.

3. The GOOD WOMAN. A Whole Length, but no Portrait. By _Sympson_. [_N.B._--It is done from Invention, not being able to find one to sit for it.]

4. A STAR. By * *

5. The LIGHT HEART. A Sign for a Vintner. By Hogarty. [_N.B._--This is an elegant Invention of _Ben Jonson_, who in _The New Inn_ or _Light Heart_, makes the Landlord say (speaking of his Sign:)--

_An Heart weighed with a Feather, and outweighed too: A Brain-child of my own and I am proud on’t._]

6. The HOG IN ARMOUR. By _Thurmond_.

7. A BUTTOCK OF BEEF. By _Simmes_.

8. The VICAR OF BRAY. The Portrait of a Beneficed Clergyman, at _Full Length_. By Allison.

9. The IRISH ARMS. By _Patrick O’Blaney_. [_N.B._--Captain _Terence O’Cutter_ STOOD for them.]

10. The GENTLEMAN OF WALES. By _David Rice_.

11. BUTTER AND EGGS. By _Simmes_.

12. The SCOTCH FIDDLE. By _M^{c}Pharson_, done from HIMSELF.

13. The BARKING DOGS. A Landscape at Moonlight. The Moon somewhat eclipsed by an Accident. _Whitaker._

14. THREE APOTHECARIES’ GALLIPOTS. _D’aeth’s_ first Attempt.

15. THREE COFFINS. Its Companion. Finished by _Shrowd_.

16. A MAN. By _Hagarty_.

17. The RISING SUN. A Landscape. Painted for _The Moon, alias_ THEOPHILUS MOON. By _Morris_.

18. The MAGPIE. By _Whitaker_.

19. NOBODY, _alias_ SOMEBODY. A Character.

20. SOMEBODY, _alias_ NOBODY. A Caricature. Its Companion. Both these by _Hagarty_.

21. The WORLD’S END. By _Sympson_.

22. The STRUGGLERS. A Conversation. By _Ransbey_.

23. A FREEMASON’S LODGE, or the _Impenetrable Secret_. By a _Sworn Brother_.

24. The BLACKAMOOR. By _Sympson_. [_N.B._--This is not intended as any Reflection on the Gentlemen who have been lately Whitewashed.]

25. A MAN RUNNING AWAY WITH THE MONUMENT. By _Whitaker_.

26. DEVIL HUGGING THE WITCH. A Conversation. By _Ransbey_.

27. The SPIRIT OF CONTRADICTION. Ditto. By _Hagarty_.

28. The LOGGERHEADS. Ditto. By _Ditto_.

29. The MAN IN THE MOON DRINKS CLARET. By _Blackman_.

30. The DANCING BEARS. A Sign for N. Dukes, or A. Hart, or any other Dancing-Master to Grown Gentlemen. By _Hagarty_.

31. MY A---- IN A BANDBOX. By _Sympson_.

32. A MAN STRUGGLING THROUGH THE WORLD. By _the same_.

33. ST JOHN’S HEAD in a Charger.

34. A DOG’S HEAD in the Porridge Pot. Its Companion. Both these by _Blackman_.

35. A MAN IN HIS ELEMENT. A Sign for an Eating House.

36. A MAN OUT OF HIS ELEMENT. A Sign for a Publick House at Wapping, Rotherhithe, or Deptford. Both these by _Stainsley_.

37. The BARLEY MOW. By _Whitaker_.

38. A BIRD IN THE HAND. A Landscape. By _Allison_.

39. ABSALOM HANGING. A Peruke-Maker’s Sign. By _Sclater_.

40. WELCOME CUCKOLDS TO HORN FAIR. By _Hagarty_.

41. The CAT O’ NINE TAILS. A Kit-Cat. By _Masmore_.

42. KING CHARLES IN THE OAK. A Land-schape. By _Allison_. The Face in Miniature. By _Sclater_.

43. An OWL IN AN IVY BUSH. Its Companion. By _Allison_.

44. FOOTE in the Character of Mrs Cole. A Sign for a _Boarding-School_. By _Stainsley_.

45. PEEPING-TOM. A Sign for a Shoemaker. By _the same_.

46.

47. A PAIR OF BREECHES.

48. A GREEN CANISTER. Its Companion. Both these by _Blackman_.

49. An HA! HA!

50. [_On a parallel line with the foregoing on the other side of the chimney._] THE CURIOSITY. Its Companion. [These two by an unknown Hand, the Exhibitors being favoured with them from an unknown Quarter.] ⁂ Ladies and Gentlemen are requested not to finger them, as Blue Curtains are hung on purpose to preserve them.

51. [_Over the Chimney._] A STAR of the first Magnitude.

52. The Renowned SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF CHRISTENDOM, from an entire New Design. 1. St George for England. 2. St Andrew for Scotland. 3. St Denis for France. 4. St Anthony for Italy. 5. St James for Spain. 6. St David for Wales. 7. St Patrick for Ireland. This by _Bransley_.

53. An Original Portrait of the present EMPEROR OF RUSSIA.

54. Ditto of the Empress QUEEN OF HUNGARY. Its Antagonist. These by _Sheerman_.

55. The SILENT WOMAN, or A GOOD RIDDANCE. A Family Piece. By _Barnsley_.

56. The GHOST OF COCK LANE. By Miss _Fanny_ ----.[725]

57. THREE PORTRAITS IN ONE.

58. ALL THE WORLD AND HIS WIFE. By _Blackman_.

59. CAT AND BAGPIPES. By _Forster_.

60. A perspective view of BILLINGSGATE, or Lectures on Elocution.

61. The ROBIN HOOD SOCIETY, a Conversation; or Lectures on Elocution.[726] Its Companion. These two by _Barnsley_.

62. AN AUTHOR IN THE PILLORY. By ----, Bookseller. First Attempt.[727]

63. _Liberty_ crowning _Britania_. By command of his Majesty.

64. View of the ROAD TO PADDINGTON, with a Presentation (_sic_) of the Deadly Never-Green[728] that bears Fruit all the Year round. The Fruit at full length. By _Hagarty_.

65. The SALUTATION, or French and English Manners. By _Blackman_.

66. GOOD COMPANY. A Conversation. Intended as a Sign for a Tobacconist. By _Bransley_.

67. DEATH AND THE DOCTOR; in _Distemper_. By _Hagarty_.

68. HOGS NORTON.[729] A Sign for a Music Shop. By _Bransley_.

69. ST DUNSTAN AND THE DEVIL.

70. ST SQUINTUM[730] AND THE DEVIL. Its Companion. By ----.

71. SHAVE FOR A PENNY. LET BLOOD FOR NOTHING.

72. TEETH DRAWN WITH A TOUCH. A Caricature. Its Companion. These two by _Bransley_.

73. A MAN LOADED WITH MISCHIEF. By _Sympson_.

74. ENTERTAINMENT FOR MAN AND HORSE. A Landscape. By _Bransley_.

75. FIRST AND LAST. By _Blackman_.

76. The CONSTITUTION; Alderman Pitt’s Entire. By _Hagarty_.

BUSTS, CARVED FIGURES, &c., &c., &c.

1. A BLUE BOAR. By _Lester_.

2. TWO INDIAN KINGS. By _Taverner_.

3. A FLAMING SWORD of Paradise.

4. ST PETER’S KEY. Both these by _Carey_.

5. A BUNCH OF GRAPES from _Portugal_. By _Pendred_.

6. A DIVIDED CROWN. By _Ward_.

7. BIRMINGHAM CASE OF KNIVES AND FORKS. [See at the other end of this a SHEFFIELD CASE. Its Companion.] Both these by _Asgill_.

8. A NAG’S HEAD, after the Manner of the Antient Bronzes. By _Millwich_.

9. A BLOCK, done from the Life. By _Brown_.

10. An exact Representation of the famous RUNNING HORSE. _Black and All Black._

11. Underneath, an Escutcheon, shewing his Pedigree, as warranted by the Herald’s office. These by _Fishbourne_.

12. Bust of a celebrated Beauty. By _Edley_.

13. Head of the THOUGHTLESS PHILOSOPHER. By _Masmore_.

14. TAKE TIME BY THE FORELOCK. By _Clark_.

15. A DUMB BELL. By _the same_.

16. The BRITISH LION, and

17. UNICORN. [The Lion in excellent Condition.] By _Jones_.

18. A French _Fleur-de-Lys_ [tarnished.] By _Garthy_.

19. Two Bronzes. By _Millwich_.

20. A Gold Fish, considerably larger than the Life. By _Cook_.

21. A MITRE, and

22. CROWN. By _Hughes_.

23. A DOLPHIN, painted with the true _Verd Antique_. By _Quarterman_.

⁂ Several TOBACCO ROLLS, SUGAR LOAVES, HATS, WIGS, STOCKINGS, GLOVES, &c., &c., &c., hung round the Room. By the above-mentioned Artists.

24. [_On the Left Hand of the Door, going out._] A Stand of Cheeses, with a Bladder of Lard on the Top.

25. A _Westphalian_ Ham. These two by _Bricken_.

--_St James’s Chronicle_, Ap. 20-22. 1762.

The next number of the _St James’s Chronicle_ contained an article on the Exhibition from another journal, written with great animosity:--

“As your paper is always ready to expose any Abuses on the Publick, I beg you will give place to the following Observations:--

“I acknowledge myself to have been one of the Curious who went yesterday morning to see the Grand Exhibition, as it is called, of the Sign-Painters, from which I did not indeed expect any great Entertainment; however, I did not imagine any Set of Gentlemen would have been concerned in a senseless Attempt at Satire, and along with it the most impudent and pickpocket Abuse that I ever knew offered to the Publick.

“The Exhibition is really of Signs, and those, in general, worse executed than any that are to be seen in the meanest streets. The Busts, carved Figures, &c., are of corresponding Excellence, all of them being the very worst of Signpost Work, and such as seem collected for an Insult on the Human understanding.

“But that your Readers may _All_ save their Time, Money, and Credit, by not falling into this Hum-trap, I shall give them an Account of some of the choicest Articles of this Collection as a sample that must damp their Curiosity for seeing the Whole.”

GRAND ROOM.

1. Mr Hogarth, or a wretched Figure done for him drawing his five orders of Periwigs.

2. A CROOKED BILLET, hung under it, on which is written, _The Exact Line of Beauty_.

3. THE GOOD WOMAN. The old stale Device of a Woman without a Head, badly executed.

5. THE LIGHT HEART. A Feather weighing down a Heart in a pair of Scales.

9. THE IRISH ARMS. A great clumsy pair of Legs.

10. The GENTLEMAN OF WALES. A Taffey with a great Leek in his Hat.

19. NOBODY. A man all Legs.

20. SOMEBODY. A man all Belly, with a Constable’s Staff.

23. A FREEMASON’S LODGE. A new Member blinded and befouling himself.

27. THE SPIRIT OF CONTRADICTION. Two Brewers bearing a cask. The Men going different ways.

30. THE DANCING BEARS. Bears in Men’s cloaths, learning to dance, a great one amongst them, with a gold Chain round his Neck; the Dancing Master a Monkey, holding a Kitten on his Breast with one hand, and pincing its tail with the other.

31. BAND-BOX. An Ass standing in a great Band-box.[731]

32. A MAN STRUGGLING THROUGH THE WORLD. The Sign of a Pasteboard Terrestrial Globe, with a Man creeping through it, his Head being out at one End, and his Heels at the other.

35. A MAN IN HIS ELEMENT. A man gluttonizing.[732]

36. A MAN OUT OF HIS ELEMENT. A Sailor fallen off his Horse.

44. FOOTE in the Character of Mrs Cole. The wit lies in the writing under it, which is, _Young Ladies educated here_.

45. PEEPING TOM.[733] A Shoemaker trying on a Shoe on a Woman.

BUT THE CREAM OF THE WHOLE JEST IS (49 and 50) two Boards behind two Curtains, (one on each side of the Chimney,) which, when the Curtains are lifted up, show the written Laughs of HA HA HA and HE HE HE.

53 and 54 are two old Signs of a SARACEN’S HEAD and a QUEEN ANNE’S, with their Tongues lolling out at one another, designed to represent the Czar and the Queen of Hungary. Over them is a great wooden Bill, with this inscription, _The present State of Europe_.

64. A view of the ROAD TO PADDINGTON, with a Representation of the Deadly Never Green that bears Fruit all the year round. This is Tyburn, with three felons hanging on it.

65. The SALUTATION, or French and English Manners, which shows a Frenchman cringingly bowing, and an Englishman taking him by the Nose.

66. GOOD COMPANY. Three Men drunk, and burning one another’s Faces with their Pipes.

69. ST DUNSTAN AND THE DEVIL. The Saint taking the Devil by the Nose with a Pair of Tongs.

70. Its Companion. Doctor Squintum doing the same.

71. SHAVE FOR A PENNY, LET BLOOD FOR NOTHING. A man under the hands of a barber surgeon, who shaves and lets blood at the same time, by cutting at every stroke of his razor.

73. A MAN LOADED WITH MISCHIEF. A Fellow with a Woman, a Monkey, and a Magpie on his Back.

74. ENTERTAINMENT FOR MAN AND HORSE. A Woman and a Hay Mow.

75. FIRST AND LAST. A Cradle and a Coffin.

76. THE CONSTITUTION. Alderman Pitt’s Entire. A tall Grenadier and a short Sailor.

“Such is the Entertainment that these wits have been able to prepare for the curious, with all the assistance of the Virtuosi which they have been long advertising to procure. If there is any Satyre in this Design, it must be in humming their Customers. Wit or taste there is certainly none; but there is a Magnitude of Imposition that is surely deserving of Punishment.

It is well known that the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, are at a great Expense for making their elegant Exhibition, and give their Tickets all away. The Artists, indeed, sell Catalogues there to those who chuse to buy them, and dispose of the Money that is got by them to Charities.

The Body of Artists made their Catalogues Tickets to serve last year for the whole Time of Exhibition in Spring Gardens, and sold them but a shilling a-piece, the Profits of which were likewise distributed in Charities.

The Society, as they call themselves, of Signpainters, or rather of Bites who borrow that Name, have the Assurance to fix a Ticket to each Catalogue, which they sell for their own Profit at a shilling; and, by obliging the Ticket to be torn off at the Second Door, make the Purchase of a New Catalogue absolutely necessary for a Second Admission. It is true most Gentlemen do refuse to let their Catalogues be torn; and many of those who had submitted to the tearing of them, insisted upon their being exchanged for whole ones, resolving, like Men of Spirit, not to be bubbled every Way.

In fine, this Mock Exhibition is a most impudent and scandalous Abuse and Bubble. An Insult on Understanding, and a most pickpocket Imposture. The best entertainment it can afford is that of standing in the street, and observing with how much shame in their Faces People come out of the House. Pity it will be, if all who are employed in the carrying on this Cheat, are not seized and sent to serve the King. And those who are Sharers in the Booty deserve likewise to be severely chastised.

I am, SIR, yours, &c.,

A DESPISER OF ALL TRICKERY.”

“_The_ Signpainters _return their Thanks to the author of the above most excellent Letter, which is seemingly abusive of their Design, but is in Fact a most admirable Irony._

_The_ LEDGER _of this Morning, after having pillaged the_ CATALOGUE OF SIGNPAINTING, _is candid enough to abuse it. But it is plain that the author has not seen the Exhibition, or could not find out the Humour of it._”

FROM THE GAZETTEER.--(_St James’ Chronicle_, Ap. 24-27, 1762.)--“The Society of Signpainters, in their Catalogue, tell us they _take the opportunity of refuting_ what they are pleased to call a _malicious Suggestion_--viz., ‘Their Exhibition being designed as a Ridicule on the Exhibition of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, etc., and the Artists,’ and that they intend theirs only as an Appendix or (in the Style of Painters) ‘Companion’ to the others. What is that but ridiculing, or an attempt towards it? They say ‘there is nothing in their Collection which will be understood by any candid person as a Reflection on any Body or any Body of Men.’ They might have spared this Assertion, for no Person, endued with the least Share of common Sense, can imagine so impotent and futile an Attempt at Satire or Ridicule on any Thing except the few Spectators who go there; which would have been better understood had it opened on the First of April.

“They also say, ‘They are not in the least prompted by any mean jealousy to depreciate the Merits of their Brother Artists.’ Which is owing to their Inability, not want of Assurance; for an Attempt in them to depreciate the Merit of the Professors of Painting and Sculpture, whom they are impudently pleased to call their Brother Artists, would be (to borrow a Simile from one of their own Productions) like Dogs barking at the Moon.

“_Their sole View_, etc., etc.--‘Their sole View’ (without any Breach of Charity) we may infer is that of filling their own Pockets by duping the Publick; for no private Men would by an Advertisement invite People to their House, and place a Porter at the Door to take a Shilling of them, with a Pretence of being animated by a public Spirit, for any other Motive.

“_Bow Street, Covent Garden, April 27._

“_The Society of_ SIGN-PAINTERS are obliged to the GAZETTEER for the _above Remarks_.”

Articles and letters abusive of the Exhibition appeared in most of the newspapers, and not a day passed but it was attacked in no very measured terms. The committee, however, generally reprinted the articles in their own organ, thanking the critics for so successfully advertising their efforts, after which no more was heard from them. The following review, having very similar annotations upon the signs to those in the letter signed “_A Despiser of all Trickery_,” may have come from one of their own pens. It appeared in a monthly sheet, entitled, “_The London Register_,” for April:[734]--

“Humour is confessedly one of the chief characteristics of the English nation. There is no Country that delights in it so much, exerts it on such various occasions, or shows it in so many Shapes. In conversation, in Books, on the Stage, we meet with it every Day; and it has sometimes been introduced, not without success, even into the Pulpit. To an Artist of our own Country, and of our own Times, we owe the Practice of enriching Pictures with Humour, Character, Pleasantry, and Satire. Such an Artist could not fail of Applause in such a Nation as ours, and his Fame is equal to his Merit.

The original Paintings, etc., the Catalogue of which now lies before us, are the Project of a well-known Gentleman, in whose house they are exhibited; a Gentleman who has, in several instances, displayed a most uncommon Vein of Humour. His Burlesque Ode on St Cecilia’s Day,[735] his Labours in the _Drury Lane Journal_, and other papers, all possess that singular Turn of Imagination so peculiar to himself. This Gentleman is perhaps the only Person in England (if we except the Artist above mentioned) who could have projected, or have carried tolerably into Execution, this scheme of a Grand Exhibition. There is a whimsical drollery in all his Plans, and a Comical Originality in his Manner, that never fail to distinguish and to recommend all his Undertakings. To exercise his Wit and Humour in an innocent Laugh, and to raise that innocent Laugh in others, seems to have been his chief Aim in the present Spectacle. The Ridicule or Exhibition, if it must be accounted so, is pleasant without Malevolence; and the general Strokes on the common Topics of Satire are given with the most apparent Good-humour. . . . . .

On entering the Grand Room, . . . . you find yourself in a large and commodious Apartment, hung round with green Bays, on which this curious collection of Wooden Originals is fixt flat, (like the Signs at present in Paris,) and from whence hang Keys, Bells, Swords, Poles, Sugar-Loaves, Tobacco-Rolls, Candles, and other ornamental Furniture, carved in Wood, that commonly dangle from the Penthouses of the different Shops in our streets. On the Chimney-Board (to imitate the Stile of the Catalogue) is a large, blazing Fire, painted in Water-colours; and within a kind of Cupola, or rather Dome, which lets the Light into the Room, is written in Golden Capitals, upon a blue Ground, a Motto from Horace, disposed in the Form following:--

From this short Description of the Grand-Room, (when we consider the singular Nature of the Paintings themselves, and the Peculiarity of the other Decorations,) it may be easily imagined that no Connoisseur, who has made the Tour of Europe, ever entered a Picture-Gallery that struck his Eye more forcibly at first Sight, or provoked his Attention with more extraordinary Appearance.

We will now, if the Reader pleases, conduct him round the Room, and take a more accurate Survey of the curious Originals before us. To which End we shall proceed to transcribe the ingenious Society’s Catalogue, adding (as we proposed before) such Notes and Illustrations as may seem necessary for his Instruction or Entertainment.

8. _The Vicar of Bray: The Portrait of a Beneficed Clergyman, at Full Length._ [The vicar of Bray is an Ass in a Feather-topped Grizzle, Band, and Pudding Sleeves.--This is a much droller Conceit, and has more Effect when executed, than the old Design of The Ass loaded with Preferment.]

9. _The Irish Arms. By Patrick O’Blaney._ [_N.B. Captain Terence O’Cutter stood for them._] [A Pair of extremely thick Legs in white Stockings and black Garters.]

12. _The Scotch Fiddle. By M^{c}Pharson, done from Himself._ [The Figure of a Highlander sitting under a Tree, and enjoying that greatest of Pleasure of _scratching where it itches_.]

16. _A Man._ [Nine Taylors at Work; in Allusion to the old Saying of _nine Taylors make a Man_.]

19. _Nobody, alias Somebody._ A Character. [The Figure of an Officer, all Head, Arms, Legs and Thighs.--This Piece has a very odd Effect, being so drolly executed that you don’t miss the Body.]

20. _Somebody, alias Nobody. A Caricature. Its Companion. Both these by Hagarty._ [A rosy figure with a little Head and a huge Body, whose Belly swags over, almost quite down to his Shoe-Buckles. By the Staff in his Hand it appears to be intended to represent a Constable.--It might also have been mistaken for an eminent Justice of Peace.]

22. _The Strugglers. A Conversation. By Bransley._ [Represents a Man and Wife fighting for the Breeches.]

23. _A Free-Mason’s Lodge, or the Impenetrable Secret. By a Sworn Brother._ [The supposed Ceremony and probable Consequences of what is called _making a Mason_, representing the Master of the Lodge with a red hot Salamander in his Hand, and the new Brother blindfold, and in a comical Situation of _Fear and Good-Luck_.]

25. _A Man running away with the Monument. By Whitaker._ [This Picture of a London Night, like the Farmer Returned, represents

---- the Watchmen in Town, Lame, feeble, half blind.----

Two of these Cripples are pursuing the Thief, one crying out, Stop Thief! and the other, I can’t catch him.]

27. _The Spirit of Contradiction. Ditto. By Hagarty._ [Two Brewers with a Barrel of Beer, pulling different Ways.]

28. _The Logger Heads. Ditto. By Ditto._ [Underwritten, the old Joke of _We are Three_. Shakespeare plainly alludes to this sign in his Twelfth Night, where the Fool comes between Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek, and, taking each by the Hand, says, “How now, my Hearts, did you never see the Picture of _We Three_?”]

30. _The Dancing Bears. By Hagarty._ [Most drolly conceived and comically executed.--Represents Four Bears on their hind Legs, drest in different Characters, one with a gold Chain round his Neck, giving Right Paw and Left, gravely practising Country-Dances, under the Tuition of a Monkey, drest like a Dancing-Master, and fiddling on a KIT-ten.--The Seriousness and Solemnity of each of these Figures is incomparable. Underneath is written, “Grown Gentlemen taught to Dance.”]

31. _Band Box. By Sympson._ [Hieroglyphically expressed . . . . an Ass standing in a Bandbox.]

33. _St John’s Head in a Charger._ [The dead Saint’s Eyes, like those in most Portraits, seem to be looking at you.]

35. _A Man in his Element. A Sign for an Eating-House._ [A Cook roasted upon a Spit at the Kitchen-Fire and basted by the Devil.]

36. _A Man out of his Element._ [A Sailor fallen off his Horse, with his Skull lighting against the ten mile Stone from Portsmouth.]

38. _A Bird in the Hand, a Landscape. By Allison._ [A common sign in various Parts of England, which has usually this Inscription,

A Bird in Hand is better far Than two that in the Bushes are.

But these Lines are much improved in the Inscription that is under this Sign in the Exhibition:

A Bird in Hand far better ’tis Than two that in the Bushes is.]

39. _Absalon Hanging, a Peruke Maker’s Sign. By Sclater._ [Underneath is written--

If Absalon had not worn his own Hair Absalon had not been hanging there.]

40. _Welcome Cuckholds to Horn-Fair. By Hagarty._ [Whimsically imagined, and drolly executed--Being a Picture of Horn-Fair containing various Figures of Cuckholds in different Characters; some with large staring Bulls’, Goats’-Horns, &c., others with their Horns just budding. The center Figure is that of a fine Gentleman (copied from the fine Gentleman in Lethe) with Rams’-Horns. On a Bank, fast asleep, sits a Citizen-like Figure, with large branching antlers, and on the other side of the Picture, is a jemmy Figure in Boots, who has no Horns upon his Head, but carries them in his Pocket, out of which the tops appear tipt with Gold. This last Gentleman’s Horse (to make the Picture complete) is also represented as a Cuckhold, having a Horn in his Forehead like an Unicorn’s.]

49. _An Ha! Ha!_

50 [_On a parallel Line with the foregoing on the other Side of the Chimney_] _The Curiosity, its Companion._ [_These two by an unknown Hand, the Exhibitors being favoured with them from an unknown Quarter._] ⁂ _Ladies and Gentlemen are requested not to finger them, as blue Curtains are hung over in purpose to preserve them._ [Behind the blue Curtains on one of these Boards is written _Ha! Ha! Ha!_ and on the other _He! He! He!_ At the first opening of the Exhibition the Ladies had infinite Curiosity to know what was behind the Curtain, but were afraid to gratify it. This _covered Laugh_ is no bad satire on the indecent Pictures in some Collections, hung up in the same Manner with Curtains over them.]

52. [_Over the Chimney_] _The Renowned Seven Champions of Christendom, from an entire New Design._ [A Capital Piece. The Seven Champions are represented in the following Manner. 1. St George is an English Sailor mounted on a Lion, with a Spit (by Way of Lance) bearing a Sirloin of Beef in one Hand, and a full Pot of Porter marked _only Three Pence a_ QUART in the other. By the Lion’s Foot are two Scrolls, like Ballads, the one inscribed O the Roast Beef of Old England: the other, Hearts of Oak are our Men. 2. St Andrew is a Highlander mounted on a Scotch Galloway, with a Broad Sword, bearing an Oat Cake at the End of it in one Hand, and a Flask of Whisky in the other. 3. St Dennis is a Frenchman, mounted on a Deer, a timorous swift-footed Animal with a small Sword in one Hand on which a Frog appears to be spitted, and a Dish of Soupe Maigre in the other. 4. St Anthony is the Pope, mounted on a _Bull_, with a Crosier and a Vessel of Holy Water dangling from it, in one Hand, and a Cod-Fish inscribed Food for Lent in the other. From his Right Foot hangs a Scroll inscribed Kiss my Toe, and on the Ground several Rolls of Paper, on which are written, Pardons, Indulgencies, &c. &c. 5. St James is a Spaniard mounted on a Mule with an Ingot of Gold in one Hand and a _Padlock_ in the other. 6. St David is Taffy mounted on a Goat brandishing a Leek in one Hand, and bearing a Cheese, by Way of Target, in the other. 7. St Patrick is an Irish Soldier, mounted on a large Stone-Horse, at whose Feet is a kind of Bill with this Inscription--To cover this Season Black and All Black. He has a Sword, bearing a Potatoe on the End of it in one Hand, and a three-square Bottle, inscribed _Green Usquebaugh_ in the other.]

53. _An original Portrait of the present Emperor of Russia._

54. _Ditto of the Empress Queen of Hungary, its Antagonist._ [These are two old signs of the Saracen’s Head and Queen Anne. Under the first is written THE ZARR, and under the other the EMPRES QUEAN. They are lolling their tongues out at each other, and over their heads runs a wooden label, inscribed, _The present State of Europe_.]

56. _The Ghost of Cock Lane. By Miss Fanny ----._ [The figure of two hands, one bearing a hammer, the other a curry-comb, in allusion to knocking and scratching.]

58. _All the World and his Wife. By Blackman._ [The figure of a foolish-looking fellow, with the globe round his body, (like Orbis in the Rehearsal,) and his wife cudgelling him.]

60. _A Prospective View of Billingsgate, or Lectures on Elocution._

61. _The Robin Hood Society, a Conversation; or Lectures on Elocution. Its Companion. These two by Barnsley._ [These two Strokes at a famous Lecturer on Elocution,[736] and The Reverend Projector of a Rhetorical Academy, are admirably conceived and executed: and (the latter more especially) almost worthy the Hand of Hogarth. They are full of a Variety of droll Figures, and seem indeed to be the Work of a great Master, struggling to suppress his Superiority of Genius, and endeavouring to paint down to the common Stile and Manner of the School of Sign-painting.]

64. _View of the Road to Paddington, with a Presentation of the Deadly-Never-Green, that bears Fruit all the year round. The Fruit at full Length. By Hagarty._ [Tyburn with three Felons on the Gallows. This _Piece_ is remarkable for the _Execution_.]

65. _The Salutation, or French and English Manners. By Blackman._ [An English Jack Tar, kicking, and taking a tawdry Mounseer, cringing and bowing, by the Nose.]

66. _Good Company. A Conversation. Intended as a Sign for a Tobacconist. By Bransley._ [The Conceit and Execution are admirable. It represents a Common-Council-Man, and two Friends, drunk, over a Bottle and a Pipe. The Common-Council-Man is fallen back on his Chair as asleep. One of the Friends, an officer, is lighting a Pipe at his red Nose, while the other, a Doctor, is using his Thumb for a Tobacco Stopper.]

68. _Hogs-Norton. A Sign for a Musick-Shop. By Bransley._ [Represents (in allusion to the old saying concerning Hog’s Norton) an Hog drest in a Laced Suit, and an enormous Tye Wig, playing upon the Organ.]

69. _St Dunstan and the Devil._ [The Saint Taking the Devil by the Nose.]

70. _St Squintum and the Devil, its Companion. By ----._ [Dr W----d doing the same. The Portrait is not unlike the Doctor.[737]]

71. _Shave for a Penny, Let Blood for Nothing._ [A Man under the Hands of a Barber-Surgeon, who shaves and lets Blood at the same Time, by cutting at every Stroke of his Razor.]

72. _Teeth Drawn with a Touch. A Caricature. Its Companion._ [A Man in much the same circumstances, mutatis mutandis, under the Hands of a Tooth-Drawer.]

“Such,” says the _London Register_, “are the Original Paintings in the Society’s Collection.” It may be remarked that there is some humour in placing many of the signs, which of themselves would not be very striking: for instance, THE THREE APOTHECARIES’ GALLIPOTS, with THE THREE COFFINS as its companion; KING CHARLES IN THE OAK, and by its side THE OWL IN THE IVY BUSH. Some of the signs are very indelicate, but this objection does not appear amongst the many charges brought against Mr Thornton and his friends. The opinion of society upon this point was very different in the last century from what it is now.

Besides the official catalogue there also appears to have been a comic or satirical guide, for the newspapers of the day advertise--

_This Day was published, Price 6d._,

HA! HA! HA! Or the Laugher’s Companion to the GRAND EXHIBITION of the SIGN PAINTERS. Also He! He! He! Or the Artist’s Guide to the Society’s Exhibition.

Printed for W. Nicholl, at the Papermill, in St Paul’s Churchyard.

We shall close this subject with a paper in favour of the much abused exhibition, a weak, but well meant, effusion in doggerel rhyme:--

_To the_ PRINTER _of_ THE ST JAMES’S CHRONICLE.

SIR,

As the Sign Painters in this Catalogue have directed any Essays on their Exhibition to be sent to you, I have troubled you with the enclosed Trifle, by inserting which in your Chronicle, you will oblige

Your humble Servant

And constant Reader

A FRIEND TO THE SIGN PAINTERS.

_Addressed to the Gentlemen of the Society of_ SIGN PAINTERS.

Though Malice darts around malignant Rays And pow’rful Envy all its Spleen displays: Go on, great Chiefs, pursue your noble Play, And nobly end, what nobly you began. Spite of Detraction shall your Mirth rise With odorif’rous Flavour to the Skies, And _Masmore’s_, _Lester’s_, _Ward’s_, and _Fishbourne’s_ Name, With thine, Van Dyke, shall live to endless Fame; For your Collection Wit and Skill combine, And Humour flows in ev’ry well chose Sign; To you the Palm, th’ admiring World must give, To you the Honour ev’ry Artist leave. Regard not they the little-minded’s Rage, Nor dread the snarling Critic’s angry Page; For conscious Worth shall be your safest Guard, And Immortality your sure Reward.

April 27-29, 1762. E. N.

[723] In Farringdon Street; the head-quarters of the London Sign-Painters.

[724] In allusion to a well-known art-theory of Hogarth’s.

[725] Fanny Parsons was the girl who played such an active part in the Cock Lane ghost performances, Jan. and Feb. 1762.

[726] A famous discussion club held at the Robin Hood Tavern, Essex Street, Strand.

[727] Evidently an allusion to Edmund Curll, the notorious bookseller, who stood in the Pillory at Cheapside.

[728] The gallows at Tyburn.

[729] A corruption of _Hook-Norton_, the name of a small village in Oxfordshire, where the hogs formerly played upon the church organ. So, at least, the story runs.

[730] “St Squintum” was probably intended for John Whitfield, the famous preacher, whose personal appearance was the subject of numerous lampoons and caricatures at this time.

[731] This seemed to be a sort of slang phrase equivalent to the present--“It’s all my eye;” it occurs in “Tom Brown,” vol. ii., p. 13, 1708. See also p. 467 of this work.

[732] 35. From another source we learn that this was very different:--“No. 35. A Man in his Element, a sign for an Eating-house,”--a cook roasted on a spit at a kitchen fire, and basted by the devil.

[733] In allusion to Peeping Tom, the shoemaker of Coventry.

[734] Under the title of--“PARTICULAR ACCOUNT of the GRAND EXHIBITION in Bow Street, with Remarks and Illustrations of it.”

[735] Bonnell Thornton composed an ode on St Cecilia’s Day, which was set to music by Dr Burney, and performed by the aid of those national instruments, the marrow bones and cleavers. The affair came off at Ranelagh, and gave general satisfaction. In a former chapter we have given full particulars of this event. Thornton was born in London 1724, educated at Westminster School and Christ Church, Oxford. In connection with Geo. Colman the elder he started the _Connoisseur_, the _St James’ Chronicle_, and other periodicals. He died May 9, 1768, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

[736] Orator Henley is doubtless intended.

[737] The celebrated preacher, George Whitfield, who was chaplain to Selina, Countess of Huntingdon.

INDEX.

A. B. C., 476. Abel Drugger, 85. Abercrombie, Sir Ralph, 58. Abraham Offering his Son, 259. Absalom, 263. Acorn, 246. Adam’s Arms, 136. Adam and Eve, 257, 258. Addison’s Head, 68. African Chief, 432. Air-Balloon, 486. Airesdale Heifer, 190. Albemarle, Duke of, 59. Albion, 329. Ale-stakes, 6. Ale-pole, 233. Alfred’s Head, 45. Almond Tree, 245. Anchor, 332. Anchor and Castle, 333. Anchor and Can, 333. Anchor and Shuttle, 333. Ancient Briton, 415. Andrew Marvel, 63. Angel, 266, 267, 268. Angel and Bible, 270. Angel and Crown, 270. Angel and Gloves, 271. Angel and Still, 271. Angel and Stilliards, 271. Angel and Sun, 272. Angel and Woolpack, 272. Angel on the Hoop, 504. Angler, 361. Annunciation, 279. Anodyne Necklace, 405. Antelope, 110. Antigallican, 485. Antigallican Arms, 136, 485. Antwerp, 425. Anvil, 346. Anvil and Blacksmith, 346. Anvil and Hammer, 346. Ape, 161. Ape and Bagpipes, 438. Apollo, 69. Apple-tree, 239. Apple-tree and Mitre, 239. Arabian Horse, 175. Archimedes, 62. Arethusa, 329. Arrow, 326. Artichoke, 250. Ash-tree, 246. Ass in the Bandbox, 467. Atlas, 71. Auld Lang Syne, 81. Australian, 436. Ave Maria, 280. Axe, 346. Axe and Cleaver, 346. Axe and Compasses, 346. Axe and Saw, 346. Axe and Tun, 475.

Babes in the Wood, 76. Bacchus, 69. Bag o’ Nails, 347. Baker and Basket, 348. Baker and Brewer, 348. Balaam’s Ass, 261. Balcony, 375. Bald Face, 165. Bald Hind, 164. Bald-faced Stag, 164. Ball, 482. Ball and Cap, 483. Ball and Raven, 483. Balloon, 355, 486. Barrel, 349. Bang Up, 355. Bank of Friendship, 434. Banner, 322. Baptist Head, 273. Barber’s Pole, 341. Barber’s signs, 344, 345. Barley Broth, 384. Barleycorn, Sir John, 79. Barley Mow, 244, 327. Barley-Stack, 244. Bat and Ball, 484. Battered Naggin, 468. Battle of the Nile, 61. Battle of Pyramids, 61. Battle of Waterloo, 61. Bay Childers, 175. Bay Horse, 171. Beadle, 336. Beagle, 194. Bear, 152, 153, 154. Bear and Bacchus, 155. Bear and Harrow, 155. Bear and Ragged Staff, 136. Bear and Rummer, 155. Bear’s Paw, 144. Bear’s Head, 155. Bedford Head, 99. Beech-tree, 246. Beef Steaks, 378. Beehive, 231, 472. Bee’s Wing, 384. Bel and Dragon, 256. Bell, 473, 477, 478, 479. Bell and Anchor, 480. Bell and Black Horse, 174. Bell and Bullock, 480. Bell and Candlestick, 480. Bell and Crown, 480. Bell and Cuckoo, 480. Bell and Horse, 174. Bell and Lion, 480. Bell and Mackerel, 230. Bell and Talbot, 165. Bell in the Thorn, 475. Bell Savage, 480, 481. Benbow, Admiral, 57. Bess of Bedlam, 370. Bible, 253. Bible and Ball, 256, 483. Bible and Crown, 103. Bible, Crown, and Constitution, 254. Bible and Dial, 256. Bible and Dove, 255. Bible and Harp, 473. Bible and Key, 285. Bible and Lamb, 255. Bible and Peacock, 255. Bible and Sun, 256. Bible and Three Crowns, 127. Bible, Sceptre, and Crown, 255. Birch-tree, 246. Bird and Bantling, 138. Birdbolt, 361. Bird in the Bush, 449. Bird in Hand, 446, 447, 448, 449. Bishop Blaize, 283. Bishop Blaize and Two Sawyers, 252. Bishop of Canterbury, 64. Bishop’s Head, 315. Blackamoor’s Head, 485. Black Ball and Lillyhead, 64. Black Bell, 479. Blackbird, 202. Black Boy, 432. Black Boy and Camel, 433. Black Boy and Cat, 105. Black Boy and Comb, 433. Black Bull and Looking-Glass, 187. Black Cock, 209. Black Crow, 203. Black Dog, 193. Black Dog and Still, 483. Black Doll, 486. Black Girl, 433. Black Friar, 319. Black Goat, 192. Black Greyhound, 195. Black Jack, 384, 385, 386. Black Lion, 120. Blackmoor’s Head and Woolpack, 347. Black Posts, 373. Black Prince, 46. Black Ram, 190. Black Spread Eagle, 139. Black Swan, 215, 216, 473. Blaize, Bishop, 283. Bleeding Heart, 300. Bleeding Horse, 175. Bleeding Wolf, 143. Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green, 73. Blink Bonny, 175. Block, 363. Blossom’s Inn, 297. Blue Anchor, 333. Blue Anchor and Ball, 333. Blue and Gilt Balcony, 376. Blue Balls, 483. Blue Bible, 253. Blue Boar, 116, 288. Blue Bowl, 395. Blue Boy, 510. Blue Bull, 195. Blue-coat Boy, 509. Blue Cock, 209. Blue Cow, 195. Blue Dog, 194, 195. Blue Flower Pot, 377. Blue Fox, 195. Blue Garland, 236. Blue Greyhound, 195. Blue Helmet, 326. Blue Horse, 170. Blue Lion, 146. Blue Man, 195. Blue Peruke and Star, 404. Blue Pig, 116, 195. Blue Posts, 373. Blue Pump, 397. Blue Ram, 195. Blue Stoops, 406. Board, 377. Boar’s Head, 378, 379, 380. Boat, 334. Boatswain, 332. Boatswain’s Call, 332. Bœuf à la Mode, 475. Bolt in Tun, 471. Bombay Grab, 328. Bonny Cravat, 406. Book in Hand, 446. Booksellers’ Signs, 6, 7. Boot, 409. Boot and Slipper, 409. Bosom’s Inn, 297, 298. Bottle, 387. Bottle and Glass, 387. Bowman, 363. Bowls and Candle-poles, 362. Boy and Barrel, 349. Boy and Cap, 349. Brace, 473. Brandy Cask, 349. Brass Knocker, 376. Brawn’s Head, 381. Brazen Serpent, 7, 261. Breeches and Glove, 409. Britannia, 415. British Oak, 246. Brood Hen, 178. Broughton, 87. Brown Bear, 152. Brown Bill, 336. Brown Cow, 190. Brown Jug, 387. Brown Lion, 150. Brunswick, The, 50. Buchanan Head, 63. Buck, 471. Buck and Bell, 165. Bucket, 397. Buck in the Park, 127. Buckthorn Tree, 246. Buffalo Head, 186. Bugle, 188. Bugle Horn, 340. Bull, 182, 183. Bull and Bedpost, 187. Bull and Bell, 165. Bull and Bitch, 187. Bull and Butcher, 187. Bull and Chain, 182. Bull and Dog, 187. Bull and Gate, 62. Bull and Garter, 252. Bull’s Head, 185. Bull Inn, 92. Bull and Magpie, 187. Bull and Mouth, 61. Bull and Oak, 188. Bull and Stirrup, 116. Bull and Swan, 188. Bull and Three Calves, 177. Bullen Butchered, 47. Bull in the Oak, 188. Bull in the Pound, 188. Bull’s Neck, 186. Bumper, 390. Bunch of Carrots, 243. Bunch of Grapes, 243. Bunch of Roses, 236. Burdett, Sir Francis, 63. Burnt Tree, 246. Bush, 3, 4, _note_, 233, 234. Bushel, 347. Butler’s Head, 63. Butt and Oyster, 381.

Cabbage, 251. Cabbage Hall, 251. Cabinet, 393. Cæsar’s Head, 45. Camden Arms, 68. Camden Head, 68. Camden House, 416. Camel, 162. Camel’s Head, 162. Canary House, 384. Cannon Ball, 327. Canute Castle, 45. Cap and Stocking, 402. Cape of Good Hope, 422. Cardinal’s Hat _or_ Cap, 315. Case is Altered, 460. Castle, 130, 417, 487. Castle and Banner, 488. Castle and Falcon, 487. Castle and Wheelbarrow, 488. Castles in the Air, 488. Castor and Pollux, 70. Cat, 197. Cat and Bagpipes, 438. Cat and Cage, 198. Cat and Fiddle, 438. Cat and Kittens, 177. Cat and Lion, 198. Cat and Parrot, 198. Cat and Wheel, 299. Caterpillar Hall, 251. Catherine Wheel, 298, 357. Cat in the Basket, 198. Centurion’s Lion, 151. Chaffcutter’s Arms, 352. Chained Bull, 182. Chaise and Pair, 176. Chapel Bell, 321. Charing Cross, 416. Charles the First’s Head, 48. Charles the Second’s Head, 49. Charter about signs granted by Charles I., 10. Chase, 361. Chelsea Waterworks, 416. Chequers, 488. Cherry Garden, 240. Cherry Tree, 240, 472. Cheshire Cheese, 383. Chestnut, 246. Child-Coat, 407. Chiltern Hundred, 418. China Hall, 435. Church, 321. Church Gates, 321. Church Stile, 321. Cinder Oven, 346. Circe, 329. Civet, 162. Cleaver, 358. Clog, 410. Clown, 85. Coach and Horses, 355, 356. Coach and Dogs, 357. Coble, 334. Cock, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209. Cock and Anchor, 212. Cock and Bear, 212. Cock and Bell, 211. Cock and Blackbird, 202. Cock and Bottle, 207, 211. Cock and Breeches, 212. Cock and Bull, 212. Cock and Crown, 212. Cock and Dolphin, 212. Cock and House, 212. Cock and Key, 471. Cock and Lion, 151. Cock and Magpie, 382. Cock and Pie, 382. Cock and Pynot, 383. Cock and Trumpet, 211. Cock and Swan, 212. Cockatrice, 161. Cock in Boots, 442. Cocoa Tree, 248. Cock on the Hoop, 504. Cock’s Head, 209. Coffee-house, 249. Coffee-pot, 394. Colt and Cradle, 445. Complete Angler, 80. Comus, 70. Copper Pot, 396. Corner Pin, 505. Cottage of Content, 434. Cotton Breeches, 409. Cotton-tree, 248. Coventry Cross, 418. Cow and Calf, 177. Cow and Hare, 449. Cow and Snuffers, 444. Cow and Two Calves, 177. Cow in Boots, 442. Cow Roast, 378. Cow’s Face, 186. Crab and Lobster, 381. Crab-tree, 247. Cradle, 130, 393. Cradle and Coffin, 464. Craven Arms, 59. Craven Head, 59. Craven Heifer, 190. Craven Ox, 188. Craven Ox Head, 188. Crawfish, 381. Crescent and Anchor, 500. Cricketers, 39. Cricketers’ Arms, 484. Cripples’ Inn, 468. Crispin and Crispian, 281. Crocodile, 162. Cromwell, 46. Cromwell, Oliver, 121. Crook and Shears, 353. Crooked Billet, 489. Cross, 275, 276. Cross Axes, 346. Cross Bullets, 327. Cross Foxes, 142. Cross Guns, 322. Cross Hands, 493. Cross in Hand, 493. Cross Keys, 131. Cross Keys and Bible, 131. Cross Lances, 322. Cross o’ the Hands, 493. Cross Pistols, 322. Cross Scythes, 353. Cross Swords, 322. Crow in the Oak, 203. Crown, 101, 239, 258. Crown and Anchor, 103. Crown and Can, 106. Crown and Column, 103. Crown and Cushion, 102. Crown and Dove, 105. Crown and Fan, 105. Crown and Glove, 102. Crown and Halbert, 106. Crown and Harp, 126. Crown and Leek, 126. Crown and Last, 105. Crown and Mitre, 103. Crown and Punchbowl, 388. Crown and Rasp, 105. Crown and Rolls, 337. Crown and Sceptre, 103. Crown and Tower, 103. Crown and Trumpet, 106. Crown and Woolpack, 103. Crown and Woodpecker, 103. Crowned Q, 476. Crowned Fan, 412. Crown of Thorns, 275. Crown on the Hoop, 504. Crow’s Nest, 178. Cumberland, Duke of, 54. Czar’s Head, 52.

Dagger, 325. Dairymaid, 353. Daisy, 238. Dancing Dogs, 444. Dancing Goat, 439. Dandie Dinmont, 81. Dapple Grey, 171. Darby and Joan, 79. David and Harp, 263. Davy Lamp, 346. Defiance, 355. Denmark House, 436, 437. Devil, 291, 294, 295. Devil and Bag of Nails, 347. Devil and St Dunstan, 291, 292, 293. Devil in a Tub, 460. Devil’s Head, 295. Dick Tarleton, 83. Digby, Captain, 99. Dirty Dick, 90. Dr Johnson’s Head, 68. Doctor Syntax, 81. Dog, 192. Dog and Bacon, 378. Dog and Badger, 197. Dog and Bear, 196. Dog and Crock, 444. Dog and Duck, 196, 197. Dog and Gun, 197. Dog and Hedgehog, 162. Dog and Partridge, 197. Dog and Pheasant, 197. Dog and Punchbowl, 388. Dog in Doublet, 443. Dog’s Head in the Pot, 443, 444. Dolphin, 227, 228. Dolphin & Anchor, 228, 229. Dolphin and Bell, 165. Dolphin and Comb, 229. Dolphin and Crown, 129. Don Cossack, 99. Don John, 68. Don Juan, 68. Don Saltero, 93, 94. Donkey Playing on Hurdy Gurdy, 439. Doublet, 407. Dove, 219. Dove and Rainbow, 259. Dovecote, 219. Dover Castle, 417. Dragon, 111, 158. Drake, 218. Drake, Admiral, 56. Dray and Horses, 349. Drovers’ Arms, 136. Drover’s Call, 355. Druid and Oak, 100. Druid’s Head, 99. Drum and Trumpet, 323. Dryden’s Head, 67. Duck and Mallard, 218. Duke’s Head, 59. Dunciad, 67. Dun Cow, 74. Durham Heifer, 190. Durham Ox, 188. Dust Pan, 397. Dusty Miller, 348. Dwarf, 89.

Eagle, 199. Eagle and Ball, 199. Eagle and Child, 138. Eagle and Serpent, 198. Eagle’s Foot, 139. Early Christian signs, 3, 4. East India House, 415. Edinburgh Castle, 418. Eight Bells, 478. Eight Ringers, 478. Elephant and Castle, 155, 156. Elephant and Fish, 156. Elephant and Friar, 156. Elisha’s Raven, 264. Elliott, General, 58. Elm, 246. Elysium, 73. England, Scotland, and Ireland, 415. English Arms, 129. Essex Arms, 60. Essex, Earl of, 60. Essex Head, 60. Essex Serpent, 80. Exchange, 415. Exmouth, Lord, 57. Experienced Fowler, 361. Express, 355. Ewe and Lamb, 177.

Falcon, 219. Falcon on the Hoop, 220, 504. Falcon and Horseshoe, 115. Falstaff, Sir John, 67, 86. Fan, 412. Farmer’s Arms, 136, 352. Father Redcap, 96. Feathers, 122. Ferguson, James, 63. Fiddler’s Arms, 83. Fifteen Balls, 127. Fighting Cocks, 210, 252. Fig-tree, 245. Filho, 175. Filho da Puta, 175. Finish, 511. Fire-beacon, 117. First and Last, 436, 464. Fir-tree, 246. Fish, 230. Fish and Anchor, 228. Fish and Bell, 165, 230. Fish and Dolphin, 230. Fish and Eels, 231. Fish and Kettle, 231. Fish and Quart, 231. Fishbone, 231. Fishing Cat, 439. Fishing Smack, 334. Five Bells, 331, 478. Five Clogs, 410. Five Cricketers, 484. Five Inkhorns, 337. Flaming Sword, 258. Flank of Beef, 378. Flask, 387. Fleece, 58. Flitch of Dunmow, 420. Flower de Luce, 128. Flower Pot, 376. Flowers of the Forest, 81. Flying Bull, 73. Flying Childers, 175. Flying Dutchman, 175. Flying Fox, 170. Flying Horse, 72, 365. Flying Monkey, 444. Foaming Quart, 387. Foaming Tankard, 349. Folly, 509. Fool, 339. Forest Blue Bell, 238. Fortune, 73. Foul Anchor, 333. Fountain, 471, 494, 495. Fountain and Bear, 496. Fountain of Juvenca, 461. (_Four_) 4, 477. Four Alls, 451, 452. Four Bells, 478. Four Coffins, 371. Fourteen Stars, 500. Fox, 168, 472. Fox and Bull, 169. Fox and Cap, 170. Fox and Crane, 169. Fox and Crown, 170, 354. Fox and Duck, 169. Fox and Goose, 168. Fox and Grapes, 169. Fox and Hen, 169. Fox and Hounds, 169. Fox and Knot, 170. Fox and Lamb, 169. Fox and Owl, 169. Fox and Punchbowl, 388. Fox’s Tail, 170. French Arms, 128. French Horn, 339. French Horn and Half Moon, 339. French Horn and Queen’s Head, 339. French Horn and Rose, 339. French Horn and Violin, 338. French signs, 8, 11, 16, 17, 28, 35, 36, 37, 41, 279, 280. Frighted Horse, 175. Froghall, 232. Frying Pan, 396. Full Measure, 349. Full Moon, 500. Full Ship, 330.

Galloping Horse, 173. Gander, 472. Gaper, 467. Gaping Goose, 444. Garden House, 373. Garrick’s Head, 85. Garter, 410, 411. Gelding, 176. General’s Arms, 136. Geneva Arms, 130. Generous Briton, 415. Gentle Shepherd of Salisbury Plain, 419. George, 287, 288. George and Blue Boar, 288. George and Dragon, 40. George and Thirteen Cantons, 289. George and Vulture, 289. George on the Hoop, 504. Gibraltar, 61, 422. Gipsy Queen, 508. Gipsy Tent, 508. Globe, 414. Globe and Compasses, 147. Glorious Apollo, 69. Glove, 411. Goat, 192. Goat and Kid, 177. Goat in Armour, 440. Goat in Boots, 440, 441. Godfrey, Sir Edmund, 64. God’s Head, 279. Golden Angel, 269. Golden Ball, 482. Golden Beard, 405. Golden Bell, 479. Golden Bottle, 386. Golden Buck, 165. Golden Candlestick, 394. Golden Can, 386. Golden Cross, 276. Golden Crotchet, 339. Golden Cup, 149. Golden Eagle, 198. Golden Farmer, 352. Golden Field Gate, 62. Golden Fleece, 72. Golden Frog, 232. Golden Fryingpan, 396. Golden Globe, 415. Golden Griffin, 145. Golden Head, 490. Golden Heart, 300, 473. Golden Jar, 397. Golden Key, 398. Golden Key and Bible, 255. Golden Lion, 146, 201, 327. Golden Maid, 364. Golden Measure, 349. Golden Quoit, 505. Golden Ring, 412. Golden Slipper, 409. Golden Sun, 498. Golden Tiger, 152. Golden Tun, 474. Goliah, or Golias, 262. Goliah Head, 262. Good Samaritan, 274. Good Woman, 454, 455. Goose and Gridiron, 239, 445. Goose and Gridiron, 316. Gospel Oak, 278. Grafton’s Head, Duke of, 386. Granby, Marquis of, 55, 58. Grand A., 476. Grand B., 476. Grasshopper, 140. Grave Maurice, 53. Gray Ass, 221. Grazier’s Arms, 352. Great Mogol, 51. Great Turk, 429. Grecian, 429. Greek Signs, 1. Green Bellows, 394. Green Dragon, 111. Green Lattice, 375. Green Lettuce, 375. Green Man, 366, 367, 368, 449. Green Man and Ball, 483. Green Man and Still, 148. Green Monkey, 444. Green Monster, 507. Green Pales, 373. Green Parrot, 222. Green Posts, 472. Green Seedling, 246. Green Tree, 245. Gresham, Thomas, 63. Gretna Green, 422. Grey Goat, 192. Greyhound, 194. Grey Mare, 177. Grey Ox, 188. Gridiron, 396. Griffin, 145. Griffin’s Arms, 136. Grinding Young, 461. Grinning Jackanapes, 440. Grouse and Moorcock, 223. Grouse and Trout, 223. Guardian Angel, 269. Guilded Cup, 387. Gun, or Cannon, 117. Guy of Warwick, 74.

Halbert and Crown, 327. Half Eagle and Key, 130. Half-Moon, 327, 500. Half-Moon and Punchbowl, 388. Half-Moon and Seven Stars, 500. Hailstone, 502. Ham, 381. Ham and Firkin, 381. Hammer, 347. Hammer and Crown, 149. Hand, 492. Hand and Apple, 239. Hand and Ball, 492. Hand and Bible, 299. Hand and Cork, 471. Hand and Ear, 492. Hand and Face, 492. Hand and Flower, 235. Hand and Heart, 493. Hand and Hollybush, 250. Hand and Pen, 337. Hand and Scales, 362. Hand and Shears, 350. Hand and Slipper, 409. Hand and Tench, 493. Hand and Tennis, 493. Handel’s Head, 83. Handgun, 326. Hand in Hand, 493. Hare, 163. Hare and Cats, 164. Hare and Hounds, 163, 164. Hare and Squirrel, 163. Hark the Lasher, 361. Hark to Bounty, 361. Hark up to Glory, 361. Hark up to Nudger, 361. Harlequin, 365. Harmer, Captain, 99. Harp, 340, 473. Harp and Hautboy, 338. Harrow, 351. Harrow and Doublet, 407. Hart on the Hoop, 504. Harvest Home, 354. Hat, 399. Hat and Beaver, 191, 400. Hat and Feathers, 400. Hat and Star, 402, 492. Hat and Tun, 473. Hautboy and Two Flutes, 338. Have at It, 209, 210. Hawk and Buck, 115. Hawk and Buckle, 115. Hawthorn, 117. Haycock, 420. Haylift, 502. Heart and Ball, 300, 483. Heart and Trumpet, 505. Heart in Bible, 299. Heart in Hand, 493. Hearts of Oak, 246. Hearty Good Fellow, 82. Heathfield, Lord, 58. Heaven, 300. Hedgehog, 162. Hell, 301. Helmet, 326. Help me thro’ this World, 450. Hen and Chickens, 178. Hen on the Hoop, 504. Hercules, 70. Hercules’ Pillars, 70. Hereford Castle, 418. Hero of Switzerland, 100. Highland Laddie, 421. Hill, 471. Hind, 472. Hippopotamus, 162. Hit or Miss, 451. Hob in the Well, 79. Hobnails, 347. Hobson’s Inn, 92. Hog in Armour, 440. Hog in the Pound, 192. Hole in the Wall, 502, 503. Hogarth’s Head, 82. Holland Arms, 172. Hollybush, 250. Homer’s Head, 65. Honest Lawyer, 456. Hood and Scarf, 406. Hoop, 504. Hoop and Bunch of Grapes, 252, 504. Hoop and Griffin, 505. Hoop and Horseshoe, 180. Hoop and Toy, 505. Hop and Barleycorn, 244. Hopbine, 244. Hope and Anchor, 73, 333. Hop-pole, 244. Horace’s Head, 65. Horn, 340. Horn and Three Tuns, 339. Horns, 166, 167, 168, 473. Horns and Horseshoe, 180. Horse, 170, 171. Horse and Chaise, 176. Horse and Dorsiter, 175. Horse and Farrier, 175. Horse and Gate, 176. Horse and Groom, 173. Horse’s Head, 176. Horse and Horseshoe, 180. Horse and Jockey, 173. Horse and Stag, 176. Horse and Tiger, 175. Horse and Trumpet, 176. Horseshoe, 178, 179, 180, 327. Horseshoe and Crown, 181. Hour-glass, 397. Hunchbacked Cats, 444. Huntsman, 361. Hyde Park, 416.

Ibex, 162. Illuminated Dust Pan, 397. Indian Chief, 431, 432. Indian Handkerchief 405. Indian King, 51, 431. Indian Queen, 431, 432. In Vino Veritas, 144. Iron Balcony, 375. Iron Pear-tree, 239. Ironwork, Signs suspended from ornamental, 7, 8. Ivy Bush, 233. Ivy Green, 233. Jackanapes on Horseback, 439. Jackass in Boots, 443. Jack of Both Sides, 468. Jack of Newbury, 78. Jack on a Cruise, 332. Jacob’s Well, 260, 274. Jamaica, 423. Jamaica and Madeira, 423. Jane Shore, 76. Jenny Lind, 83. Jersey Castle, 418. Jerusalem, 434. Jew’s Harp, 340. Jim Crow, 81. Joey Grimaldi, 85. John Bull, 415. John of Gaunt, 46. John of Jerusalem, 274. John o’ Groat’s, 79. Jolly Brewer, 450. Jolly Butchers, 302. Jolly Crispin, 281. Jolly Farmer, 352. Jolly Toper, 466. Jonson’s Head, 66. Jovial Dutchman, 425, 426. Jubilee, 100. Judge’s Head, 335. Jug and Glass, 387. Junction Arms, 136. Juno, 69.

Kangaroo, 162. Kettledrum, 322. Key, 397, 472. King and Miller, 74. King Astyages’ Arms, 257. King Charles in the Oak, 49. King Crispin. 281. King David, 262. King Edgar, 46. King John, 46. King of Denmark, 52. King of Prussia, 54. King’s Arms, 106. King’s Head, 305, 306, 307. Kings and Keys, 302. King’s Head and Good Woman, 455. King’s Porter and Dwarf, 89. Kite’s Nest, 178. Knowles, Sheridan, 60. Kouli Khan, 51.

La Belle Sauvage, 482. Labour in Vain, 460. Laced Shoe, 409. Lads of the Village, 105. Lady of the Lake, 81. Lamb, 191. Lamb and Anchor, 300. Lamb and Breeches, 191. Lamb and Crown, 191. Lamb and Flag, 300. Lamb and Hare, 191. Lamb and Inkbottle, 229. Lamb and Lark, 191. Lamb and Still, 191. Lambert, Daniel, 88. Lame Dog, 450. Lamp, 376. Land o’ Cakes, 420. Lass o’ Gowrie, 81. Last, 349. Lattice, 374, 375. Laughing Dog, 444. Leather Bottle, 386. Lebeck’s Head, 93. Lebeck and Chaffcutter, 93. Leg, 409, 494. Leg and Star, 494. Leigh Hoy, 333. Leopard, 152. Leopard and Tiger, 152. Letters, 476. Lilies of the Valley, 238. Linskill, Colonel, 99. Lion, 472. Lion and Adder, 299. Lion and Ball, 151. Lion and Castle, 128. Lion and Dolphin, 150. Lion and Goat, 299. Lion and Horseshoe, 180. Lion and Lamb, 299. Lion and Pheasant, 150. Lion and Snake, 299. Lion and Swan, 150. Lion and Tun, 150. Lion in the Wood, 149. Little A, 476. Little Devil, 294. Little Pig, 192. Live Vulture, 224. Live and Let Live, 450. Llangollen Castle, 418. Load of Hay, 353. Load of Mischief, 457. Lobster, 381. Loch-na-Gar, 81. Lock and Key, 398. Lock and Shears, 403. Locke’s Head, 63. Locks of Hair, 403. Looking-Glass, 392, 393. London Apprentice, 79. London Signs, _temp._ James I., 8, 9. London Signs, _temp._ Charles I., 9, 10. London Signs after the Fire, 16. London Signs in 1803, 31, 32. London Signs in 1865, 42, 43, 44. London Signs, Roxburghe Ballad upon the, 13. London Signs taken down, 28, 29. Lord Anglesey, 64. Lord Bacon’s Head, 63. Lord Byron, 68. Lord Cobham’s Head, 97. Lord Craven, 59. Loving Lamb, 444. Lubber’s Head, 147. Luck’s All, 451. Lucrece, 80.

Mad Cat, 196. Mad Dog, 196. Maggoty Pie, 221. Magna Charta, 46. Magpie, 40, 220. Magpie and Crown, 220, 221. Magpie and Horseshoe, 180. Magpie and Pewter Platter, 221. Magpie and Punchbowl, 388. Magpie and Stump, 221. Maid and the Magpie, 83. Maidenhead, 141. Maid’s Head, 142. Mail, 355. Malt and Hops, 244. Manage Horse, 175. Man in the Wood, 472. Man Loaded with Mischief, 456. Man of Ross, 68. Man in the Moon, 303, 304. Mare and Foal, 177. Marlborough’s Head, Duke of, 59. Marquis of Granby, 55, 58. Marrowbones and Cleaver, 358. Martin’s Nest, 178. Martyr’s Head, 48. Marygold, 237. Matrons, 321. Mattock and Spade, 353. Maypole, 506. Mazeppa, 68. Medieval Signs, 4, 5. Melancthon’s Head, 97. Mercury, 70. Mercury and Fan, 70. Merlin’s Cave, 77. Merry Andrew, 368. Merry Harriers, 194. Mermaid, 225, 226, 227. Merry Mouth, 491. Merry Song, 339. Merry Tom, 369. Middleton, Sir Hugh, 63. Million Gardens, 507. Millstone, 348. Milton’s Head, 67. Minerva, 69. Miraculous Draught of Fishes, 275. Mitre, 315, 316, 317, 318, 319. Mitre and Dove, 319. Mitre and Keys, 319. Mitre and Rose, 315, 319. Mitre on the Hoop, 504. Mischief, 457. Mitford Castle, 418. Minister’s Gown, 407. Mock-Signs, 12. Monck’s Head, 59. Monster, 507. Moon, 499. Moonrakers, 105, 463. Moore, General, 58. Mortal Man, 40, 464. Mortar and Pestle, 341. Moses and Aaron, 260. Moss-rose, 236. Mother Huff, 97. Mother Redcap, 96. Mother Shipton, 76. Mount Pleasant, 434. Mourning Crown, 48, 49. Mourning Mitre, 49. Mouth, 491. Mouth of the Nile, 61. Mulberry Tree, 240, 241. Mustard Pot, 383. Myrtle Tree, 238. Mystic Number Three, 269, _note_.

Nag’s Head, 176. Naked Boy, 452, 453. Naked Boy and Woolpack, 272. Name of Jesus, 279. Napier, Sir Charles, 57. Nell Gwynne, 97. Nelson and Peal, 166, 478. Neptune, 70. Newton, Sir Isaac, 62. Next Boat by Paul’s, 335. Nine Elms, 246. Noah’s Ark, 258. Nobis Inn, 473. Noblemen’s Badges, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136. Nobody, 457, 458. Noggin, 468. No Place, 436, 458. North Pole, 436. Norwich, City of, 418. Nowhere, 458. Number IV., 477. Numbers _versus_ Signs, 29, 30. Number Three, 477.

Oak, 246, 474. Oak and Black Dog, 203. Oak and Toy, 246. Oakley Arms, 144. Oatsheaf, 252. Old Barge, 334. Old Careless, 468. Oldcastle, Sir John, 97. Old Coach and Six, 355. Old English Gentleman, 81, 415. Old Hand and Tankard, 493. Old Hobson, 92. Old House at Home, 82. Old Knave of Clubs, 505. Old Man, 494. Old Parr’s Head, 91. Old Pharaoh, 261. Old Pick my Toe, 468. Old Prison, 416. Old Ring o’ Bells, 478. Old Roson, 81. Old Smuggs, 468. Old Will Somers, 86, 87. Olive-tree, 242. One and All, 128. One Tun, 148. Orange-tree and Two Jars, 241, 242. Ormond’s Head, 59. Orpheus, 72. Ostrich, 223. Our Lady, 272. Our Lady of Pity, 272. Owl, 223. Owl’s Nest, 169, 223. Ox and Compasses, 188. Oxford Arms, 127. Ox in Boots, 442. Oxnoble, 251.

Pack Horse, 175. Paganini, 83. Pageant, 50. Palatine Head, 54. Palm-tree, 248. Panting Hart, 263. Panyer, 348. Paracelsus, 64. Paradise, 301. Parrot, 222. Parrot and Cage, 222. Parrot and Punchbowl, 388. Parson’s Green, 472. Parting Pot, 349. Parta Tueri, 144. Pasqua Rosee, 92. Patten, 410. Paltzgrave, 54. Paul’s Head, 290. Paul Pry, 86. Paviors’ Arms, 352. Peach-tree, 245. Peacock, 222. Peacock and Feathers, 223. Pearl of Venice, 406. Pear-tree, 239. Pease and Beans, 251. Peat Spade, 353. Peel, 348. Pelican, 200. Periwig, 404. Pestle, 341. Pestle and Mortar, 472. Peter’s Finger, 291. Pewter Platter, 396. Pewter Pot, 387. Philpott, Toby, 81. Phœnix, 199. Pickled Egg, 383. Pickwick, 81. Pie, 382. Pied Bull, 184. Pied Calf, 190. Pied Dog, 194. Pig and Tinder-box, 156. Pig and Whistle, 437. Pigeon, 218. Pigeon Bow, 219. Pilgrim, 508. Pindar of Wakefield, 75. Pindar, Sir Paul, 98. Pine Apple, 244. Pistol and C, 326. Pitcher and Glass, 387. Plate, 326. Plough, 351. Plough and Ball, 483. Plough and Harrow, 351. Plough and Horses, 351. Poet’s Head, 48, 337. Pointer, 194. Pole Star, 501. Political Sign Pasquinade, 13. Pontack’s Head, 93. Pope’s Head, (_the Poet_,) 67. Pope’s Head, 312, 313, 314. Popinjay, 222. Portcullis, 121. Porter Butt, 349. Porter and Gentleman, 361. Porter’s Lodge, 351. Portobello, 39, 57. Postboy, 363. Prince, 428. Prince Eugene, 53. Prince Rupert, 54. Prince of Wales’ Arms, 122. Prince of Wales’ Feathers, 122. Puddlers’ Arms, 352. Pump, 396. Punchbowl, 388. Punchbowl and Ladle, 388. Purcell’s Head, 83. Purgatory, 301. Purple Lion, 146. Puss in Boots, 442.

Q Inn, 476. Q in the Corner, 476. Quaker, 508. Queen Anne, 47. Queen Catherine, 47. Queen Charlotte, 40. Queen Eleanor, 47. Queen Elizabeth, 47. Queen Mary, 50. Queen of Bohemia, 47. Queen of Hearts and King’s Arms, 505. Queen of Hungary, 55. Queen of Saba, 263. Queen of Trumps, 505. Queen of the Gipsies, 508. Queen’s Arms, 107. Queen’s Arms and Corncutter, 107. Queen’s Elm, 246. Queen’s Head, 130, 307, 308, 309, 310, 311, 349, 510. Queen’s Head and Artichoke, 312. Queen Victoria, 50. Quiet Woman, 454.

Racoon, 162. Raffled Anchor, 333. Railway, 334. Rainbow, 502. Raleigh, Sir Walter, 56. Ram, 190. Raven and Bell, 165. Ram and Teazel, 149. Ram’s Head, 190. Ram’s Skin, 190. Ranged Deer, 165. Rat and Ferret, 162. Raven, 201. Recruiting Sergeant, 322. Red Ball and Acorn, 483. Red Bear, 152. Red Bull, 185. Red Cat, 197. Red Cow, 188, 189. Red Dragon, 111. Red Horse, 171. Red Lion, 119, 327. Red Lion and Key, 472. Red Lion and Punchbowl, 388. Red M and Dagger, 325. Red Poles, 373. Red Rover, 81. Red Shield, 504. Red Streak Tree, 239. Red, White, and Blue, 332. Reindeer, 157. Rembrandt’s Head, 82. Resurrection, 277, 474. Rest and be Thankful, 510. Rhenish Wine House, 384. Ribs of Beef, 378. Ring, 412. Ring and Ball, 484. Rising Buck, 165. Rising Deer, 165. Rising Sun, 118, 499. Rising Sun and Seven Stars, 499. Robin Adair, 81. Robin Hood and Little John, 75. Robinson Crusoe, 81. Rob Roy, 81. Rochester Castle, 418. Rodney, Admiral, 57. Rodney and Hood, 57. Rodney Pillar, 57. Roebuck, 165, 166. Rolls, 336. Roman Signs, 1, 2, 3. Rope and Anchor, 333. Rose, 124, 125, 126, 235. Rose and Ball, 126. Rose and Crown, 121. Rose and Key, 126. Rose and Punchbowl, 388. Rosebud, 236. Rose Garland, 236. Rosemary Branch, 238. Rose of Normandy, 237. Ross on Clinker, Captain, 99. Round of Beef, 378. Round Table, 79. Roxellana, 85. Royal Badges, 108, 109, 110. Royal Bed, 377. Royal Champion, 102. Royal Charles, 330. Royal Coffee-mill, 394. Royal Hand and Globe, 312. Royal Oak, 40, 49. Royal Standard, 105. Rummer, 389, 390. Rummer and Grapes, 239. Rum Puncheon, 349. Running Footman, 360. Running Horse, 173, 327. Running Man, 361. Russia House, 425.

Saddle, 357. St Alban, 297. St Augustine, 297. St Clement, 297. St Christopher, 285. St Crispin, 281. St Cuthbert, 296. St Dominic, 320. St Edmund’s Head, 296. St George and the Dragon, 287. St John the Evangelist, 296. St Hugh’s Bones, 282, 283. St Julian, 283. St Luke, 286. St Martin, 284. St Mychel, 296. St Patrick, 295. St Peter and St Paul, 291. St Thomas, 296. Salamander, 158. Salmon, 473. Salmon and Ball, 231, 483. Salmon and Compasses, 231. Salt-Horn, 377. Salutation, 264, 265. Salutation and Cat, 265, 266. Samaritan Woman, 274. Samson, 70, 262. Samson and the Lion, 262. Saracen’s Head, 430, 431. Saucy Ajax, 329. Saul, 290. Sawyers, 40. Scales, 362. Sceptre, 312. Sceptre and Heart, 312. Scotchman’s Pack, 421. Sedan Chair, 358, 359. Seneca’s Head, 65. Setter Dog, 194. Seven Sisters, 246. Seven Stars, 500. Sevilla, City of, 423. Shakespeare’s Head, 66, 335. Shamrock, 127. Shears, 350. Sheep and Anchor, 330. Shepherd and Crook, 353. Shepherd and Dog, 353. Shepherd and Shepherdess, 352. Sheridan Knowles, 69. Sheet Anchor, 333. Ship, 328, 329, 471. Ship and Anchor, 330. Ship and Bell, 331. Ship and Blue Coat Boy, 331. Ship and Castle, 331. Ship and Fox, 331. Ship and Notchblock, 331. Ship and Pilot-boat, 330. Ship and Plough, 331. Ship and Punchbowl, 388. Ship and Rainbow, 331. Ship and Shovel, 331. Ship and Star, 331. Ship and Whale, 330. Ship at Anchor, 330. Ship Friends, 331. Ship in Full Sail, 330. Ship in Distress, 330. Ship in Dock, 330. Ship on Launch, 330. Shirt, 451. Shoe and Slap, 409. Shoulder of Mutton and Cat, 378. Shoulder of Mutton and Cucumbers, 378. Shovel and Sieve, 347. Sieve, 395. Silver Lion, 119. Simon the Tanner, 286. Signboard Ballads, Modern, 32, 33. Signboard, Heraldic, Enormities, 35. Signboard Poetry, 17, 18. Sign-Painters, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41. Signs, bad spelling on, 27. Signs _temp._ George II., 22, 23, 24, 25. Signs _temp._ Queen Anne, 18, 19, 20, 21. Signs during the Commonwealth, 11. Signs, exhibition of, 28. Signs, extravagance in, 26. Signs, family names derived from, 42. Signs, jocular alteration of the names of, 22. Signs, London localities named after, 41. Signs of the zodiac, 501. Signs of the stews, 8. Signs, quarterings of, 21, 22. Silent Woman, 454. Sir Charles Napier, 57. Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, 64. Sir Frances Burdett, 63. Sir Hugh Middleton, 63. Sir Isaac Newton, 62. Sir John Falstaff, 67, 86. Sir John Barleycorn, 79. Sir John Oldcastle, 97. Sir Paul Pindar, 98. Sir Ralph Abercrombie, 58. Sir Roger de Coverley, 80. Sir Walter Raleigh, 56. Six Bells, 478. Six Cans, 388. Six Cans and Punchbowl, 388. Sloop, 333. Slow and Easy, 468. Smith and Smithy, 346. Smyrna, 429. Snowdrop, 238. Snow-shoes, 327. Soldier and Citizen, 264. Sol’s Arms, 149. South Sea Arms, 149. Sow and Pigs, 177. Spade and Becket, 353. Spanish Galleon, 100. Spanish Lady, 405. Spanish Patriot, 100. Sparrow’s Nest, 177. Speaker’s Frigate, 330. Spiller’s Head, 84. Spinning Sow, 438. Spinning Wheel, 362. Spite Hall, 468. Spread Eagle, 139. Spur, 357. Squirrel, 163. Staffordshire Knot, 128. Stag, 164. Stag and Castle, 165. Stag and Oak, 165. Stag and Pheasant, 165. Stag and Thorn, 165. Standard, 322. Star, 501. Star and Crown, 501. Star and Garter, 410. Stave Porter, 361. Still, 349. Stock Dove, 219. Stocking, 409. Stork, 203. String of Horses, 355. Struggler, 450. Struggling Man, 450. Sugarloaf, 394. Sugarloaf and Three Coffins, 371. Sultan Morat, 51. Sultan Soliman, 51. Sun, 272, 381, 496, 497, 498. Sun and Anchor, 499. Sun and Dial, 499. Sun and Falcon, 499. Sun and Horseshoe, 180, 499. Sun and Last, 499. Sun and Moor’s Head, 471. Sun and Red Cross, 471. Sun and Sawyers, 499. Sun and Sportsman, 499. Sun and Whalebone, 231. Sun in Splendour, 498. Sun, Moon, and Seven Stars, 500. Swan, 212, 213, 214, 215, 327, 379. Swan and Bottle, 217. Swan and Falcon, 118. Swan and Harp, 445. Swan and Helmet, 218. Swan and Hoop, 217. Swan and Maidenhead, 118. Swan and Rummer, 217. Swan and Rushes, 218. Swan and Salmon, 217. Swan and Soldier, 394, _note_. Swan and Sugarloaf, 217. Swan and White Hart, 118. Swan on the Hoop, 504. Swan with Two Necks, 216, 217. Sweet Apple, 391. Swiss Cottage, 489. Sword and Ball, 312. Sword and Buckler, 323, 324. Sword and Cross, 324. Sword and Dagger, 324. Sword and Mace, 312. Sword Blade, 324. Sycamore, 246. Syntax, Doctor, 81.

Tabard, 407. Tabor, 83. Talbot, 195, 408. Tallow-chandler, 362. Tally-Ho, 355. Tam o’ Shanter, 81. Tankard, 390. Tarlton, General, 58. Telegraph, 355. Temple, 416. Ten Bells, 478. Thirteen Cantons, 289. Thistle and Crown, 126. Thomas Gresham, 63. Thorn, 165. Three Admirals, 332. Three Angels, 269. Three Arrows, 130. Three Bad Ones, 457. Three Balls, 128, 395. Three Blackbirds, 203. Three Bibles, 254. Three Bibles and Three Ink bottles, 254. Three Blue Balls, 483. Three Brushes, 322. Three Candlesticks, 394. Three Chairs, 358. Three Cocks, 209. Three Coffins and Sugarloaf, 218. Three Colts, 178. Three Compasses, 146. Three Conies, 162, 472. Three Cranes, 204. Three Crickets, 393. Three Crosses, 277. Three Crowned Needles, 350. Three Crowns, 99, 102. Three Crowns and Sugarloaf, 218. Three Crows, 203. Three Cups, 149. Three Death’s-Heads, 371. Three Elms, 246. Three Fishes, 230, 472. Three Flower de Luces, 129. Three Forges, 346. Three Frogs, 129. Three Funnels, 395. Three Geese, 472. Three Goats’ Heads, 147. Three Hats, 402. Three Hats and Nag’s Head, 403. Three Herrings, 230. Three Horseshoes, 180. Three Johns, 63. Three Jolly Butchers, 358. Three Jolly Sailors, 332. Three Kings, 301, 302, 432. Three Legs, 127. Three Legs and Bible, 127. Three Leopard’s Heads, 147. Three Loggerheads, 30, 458, 459. Three Mariners, 331. Three Merry Devils, 432. Three Morris-dancers, 364, 365. Three Mumpers, 371. Three Neats’ Tongues, 381. Three Nuns, 320. Three Old Castles, 487. Three Pheasants and Sceptre, 150. Three Pigeons, 218, 219, 473. Three Pots, 389. Three Radishes, 251. Three Ravens, 202. Three Roses, 236. Three Spanish Ladies, 424. Three Spies, 261. Three Squirrels, 163. Three Stags, 119. Three Sugarloaves, 395. Three Swans & Peal, 166, 478. Three Tuns, 58, 148. Three Turks, 428. Three Washerwomen, 364. Three Widows, 321. Throstle’s Nest, 177. Thunderstorm, 502. Ticket Porter, 361. Tiger, 152. Tiger’s Head, 134. Tiltboat, 334. Tinker’s Budget, 369. Tippling Philosopher, 466. Tobacco Plant, 252. Tobacco Roll & Sugarloaf, 218. Tobacco Rolls, 252. Toby Philpott, 81. Tom of Bedlam, 369, 370. Tom Sayers, 88. Topham, 88. Tower of London, 416. Toy, 505. Trafalgar, 61. Trap, 361. Traveller’s Rest, 510. Trinity, 277. Triumph, 50. Triumphal Car, 327. True Briton, 415. True Lover’s Knot, 509. Trumpeter, 323. Trunk, 394. Tub, 397. Tulip, 238. Tulloch Gorum, 81. Tully’s Head, 65. Tumble Down Dick, 464, 465. Tumbling Sailors, 468. Tun, 474. Tun and Arrows, 471. Turk’s Head, 426, 427, 428. Turk and Slave, 429. Two Black Boys, 433. Two Blue Flowerpots, 377. Two Brewers, 349. Two Chances, 451. Two Chairmen, 358. Two Cocks, 471. Two Crowns & Cushions, 102. Two Draymen, 349. Two Dutchmen, 425. Two Fans, 412. Two Flowerpots and Sundial, 377. Two Golden Balls, 483. Two Heads, 490. Two Jolly Brewers, 349. Two Pots, 389. Two Sawyers, 346. Two Smiths, 347. Two Sneezing Cats, 444. Two Spies, 261. Two Storks, 204. Two Twins, 501. Two White Balls, 483.

Umbrella, 412. Umbrella Hospital, 413. Uncle Tom, 81. Under the Rose, 236, 237. Union, 100. Unicorn, 159, 160. Unicorn and Bible, 159. Union Arms, 136. Union Flag and Punchbowl, 388. Up and Down Post, 363.

Valentine and Orson, 76. Van Dyke’s Head, 82. Venice, 425. Vernon, Admiral, 57. Vine, 243, 244. Violin, Hautboy, and German Flute, 338. Virgil’s Head, 65. Virgin, 272. Virginian, 431. Vulcan, 70.

Wallace’s Arms, 45. Walmer Castle, 417. Walnut-tree, 240. Water Tankard, 391. Waving Flag, 322. Weary Traveller, 510. Welch Head, 98. Well and Bucket, 374. Well with Two Buckets, 374. Wentworth Arms, 144. Wheatsheaf, 251. Wheatsheaf and Sugarloaf, 218. Wheel, 367. Wheel of Fortune, 506. Whip, 357. Whip and Egg, 357. White Bait, 231. White Bear, 93, 154, 155, 296, 416. White Boar, 116. White Dragon, 111. White Greyhound, 194. White Hart, 112, 487. White Hart and Fountain, 263. White Horse, 171, 172, 296, 327. White Lion, 119. White Peruke, 404. Whitley Grenadier, 419. Whittington and his Cat, 78. Who’d ha’ Thought it? 450. Widow’s Struggle, 450. Wild Bull, 182. Wild Dayrell, 175. Wild Man, 367. Wild Sea, 502. Wilkes’ Head, 63. William and Mary, 50. Willow Tree, 247. Wiltshire Shepherd, 419. Windmill, 348. Wolf and Lamb, 299. Wolfe, General, 58. Wolsey, Cardinal, 63. Woodbine, 238. Wooden Shoe, 410. Woodman, 355. Woolsack, 362. World’s End, 436, 461, 462. World Turned Upside Down, 462. Wounded Heart, 300. Wrestlers, 484.

Y, 476. Yellow Lion, 150. Yew Tree, 248, 475. Yorick’s Head, 68. York, city of, 416, 417. York Minster, 417. Yorkshire Grey, 58, 171. Yorkshire Stingo, 384. Young Devil, 294. Young Man, 494.

Z, 477.

Transcriber’s Notes

The text of the original publication, including inconsistencies in spelling, hyphenation, formatting, etc. has been retained, except as mentioned below. Names and publications that were spelled differently in various places have not been standardised. The sorting of the index has not been changed.

Depending on the hard- and software used and their settings, not all characters and symbols may display as intended.

Phrases such as “this century,” “last century,” “the present day,” “modern,” etc. should be read with 1866 (the year of publication of the first impression) as the reference point.

Remarks on the text

Not all quotations presented in this book are verbatim quotations.

Wouwverman and Wouverman probably refer to Wouwerman.

Footnote [35]: The Three Balls of the Pawnbrokers are explained under Heraldic and Emblematic Signs, not under Miscellaneous Signs.

Page 103: Rivingtons the publishers: possibly an error for Rivington the publisher.

Page 134, Sussen: possibly an error for Sussex.

Page 336, reference to the Good Lawyer: presumably this is a reference to the HONEST LAWYER.

Page 514, Hogarty: possibly error for Hagarty (as announced on page 512).

Footnote [677]: page 297 is in the chapter Saints, Martyrs, etc., not in the chapter Legendary and Biblical Signs. The page reference is correct.

Changes made to the text

Footnotes have been moved to the end of the chapter.

Obvious punctuation errors have been corrected silently; missing quote marks have been added only when it was clear where they should be added (therefore not all quote marks close properly).

_i. e._ has been standardised to _i.e._.

Where necessary, a space has been inserted before abbreviated Dutch words (’t, ’n, ’s etc.). Other corrections in quotations have been verified with outside sources (if possible the ones referred to in this work) or with the translation given; such corrections were only made when the printed text contained obvious errors.

Second Plate I. has been renumbered to Plate II.

Page 70: che changed to the

Page 77: footnote anchor [96] inserted after funera concors

Page 83: twelve player changed to twelve players

Page 109: Admyralyte changed to Admyraltye

Page 117: y_{e} sign changed to y^{e} sign

Page 122: as in merken kan changed to as ik merken kan

Page 125: dwellig changed to dwelling

Page 132: Compleat Ambssador changed to Compleat Ambassador

Page 175: me tyzer changed to met yzer

Footnote 265: bo ke changed to booke

Footnote 276: dithy rambics changed to dithyrambics

Page 201: anyrate changed to any rate

Page 209: latterry changed to latterly

Page 231: Comèdie changed to Comédie

Page 251: Alseen changed to Als een

Page 259: footnote anchor [373] added after extravagances

Page 263: Alyso changed to Also

Page 270: y Angel and Crown changed to y^{e} Angel and Crown

Page 282: min de minsch int beeste villen changed to men de mensch uit beestevellen; gilt changed to gelt; bestillen changed to bestellen; zeep changed to zelf

Page 299: Flechnoe changed to Flecknoe

Page 305: ... the particular trade ... changed to ... of the particular trade ...

Page 346: dipsetic changed to dyspeptic

Page 353: Troost for Zuigelingen changed to Troost voor Zuigelingen

Page 354: that edel kruyt changed to dat edel kruyt; Teckere changed to Leckere; beginnez changed to beginnen; Zoekje changed to Zoek je

Page 372: Tallemant des Reaux changed to Tallement des Réaux as elsewhere; Rucholt changed to Ruckholt

Page 381: eighteeenth changed to eighteenth

Page 390: maarkomt in changed to maar komt in

Page 403: Our ’t hoofd changed to Om ’t hoofd; Voer der staten kroon changed to Voor der staten kroon

Page 404: three-house wifely changed to three house-wifely

Page 442: gelaars de haan en gelaar de haan changed to gelaarsde haan; drees changed to dees

Page 443: In den gelaars den changed to In den gelaarsden

Page 446: Van daag voor geld, morg in voor niet changed to Vandaag voor geld, morgen voor niet

Page 450: Dus na ben in changed to Dus na ben ik

Page 453: garing changed to garish

Footnote [667]: Geldorland changed to Gelderland

Page 477: Hetzner changed to Hentzner

Page 488: ckeker of the Hope changed to cheker of the Hope

Page 529: 588 changed to 388

Page 535: page number 147 added after Three Leopard’s Heads.