CHAPTER XVI

VISITORS’ BOOKS

The Visitors’ Book is no new thing. In 1466, when a distinguished Bohemian traveller, one Baron Leo von Rozmital, dined with the Knights of Windsor, his hosts, after dinner, produced what they called their “missal,” and asked for his autograph “in memoriam” of him. A little daunted, perhaps, by so ill-omened an expression, but still courteous, the Baron complied with the request, and wrote, “Lwyk z Rozmitala a z Blatnie.” This uncouth autograph was not unnaturally looked upon with suspicion, and the Baron, on leaving Windsor, found himself followed by the Knights, who made inquiries of his retinue as to his real name. They suspected him to be some impostor, or at the least considered him guilty of that kind of foolishness which nowadays induces a certain class of visitor to sign himself “Kruger” or the “King of the Cannibal Islands,” or, worse still, to write down the name of the latest notorious criminal.

Foolishness is expected in a Visitors’ Book, and is not often wanting. In the present writer’s own experience, when two friends who, oddly enough, were named Rands and Sands, wrote their names in such a volume, the waiter who read them there, half-apologetically, said, “No: your _real_ names, please, gentlemen.” Argument and assertion could not convince, and in the end they wrote “Jones” and “Robinson,” which duly satisfied.

The Visitors’ Book of an inn usually contains little else than fulsome praise of the establishment and a somewhat revolting appreciation of its good cheer. Would-be wit and offensive scurrility are, as a rule, the only other characteristics; but from all this heap of chaff and rubbish it is possible to extract a residuum of fun and sprightly fancy. Many modern tourists in the Lake District have, for instance, been amused--after their own experiences around the steeps of Langdale Pikes--to read in the Visitors’ Book of the “Salutation” at Ambleside the following piece of poignant observation:

Little bits of Langdales, Little bits of pikes, Make the little tourists Walk their little bikes.

Of the “Swan,” at Thames Ditton, Theodore Hook wrote, but whether in a book there, or not, does not appear:

The “Swan,” snug inn, good fare affords, As table e’er was put on; And worthier quite of loftier boards, Its poultry, fish, and mutton. And while sound wine mine host supplies, With beer of Meux or Tritton, Mine hostess, with her bright blue eyes, Invites to stay at Ditton.

Among the severe epigrams that guests have left behind them, none other is so witty as that by Quin, written at the once famed “Pelican” inn, a favourite Bath Road hostelry at Speenhamland, Newbury:

The famous inn at Speenhamland, That stands beneath the hill, May well be called the Pelican, From its enormous bill.

Its monumental charges were long since ended, and where the “Pelican” stood there are now only stables and a veterinary establishment.

Bathos, ineptitude, and lines that refuse to scan are the stigmata of visitors’-book verse. There is no worse “poetry” on earth than that which lurks between those covers, or in the pages of young ladies’ albums, the last refuge of drivel and impertinence. People who would be ashamed to own their verse elsewhere will write and sign it in a Visitors’ Book; and thus we find, for example, at the “King’s Arms” at Malmesbury, the following, signed by Bishop Potter of New York:

Three savages from far New York Found rest, refreshment here; And grateful for the King’s Arms, Bear memory of good cheer.

All blessings rest on Hostess Jones, And her good spouse as well; Of their kind thought for tired bones Our countrymen will tell.

Let us hope his divinity is better than his metrical efforts.

The interesting pages of Visitors’ Books are generally those that are not there, as an Irishman might say; for the world is populated very densely with those appreciative people who, whether from a love of literature, or with an instinct for collecting autographs that may have a realisable value, remove the signatures of distinguished men, and with them anything original they may have written. Many years ago Charles Kingsley, Tom Taylor, dramatist and sometime editor of _Punch_, and Thomas Hughes, author of that classic, _Tom Brown’s Schooldays_, were staying at the Penygwryd Hotel, on the summit of Llanberis Pass, North Wales, and wrote a long set of verses in the Visitors’ Book; but the pages were stolen, long, since, and now you do but come to that book by asking very nicely for it, and then it is produced from a locked cupboard.

Here are the verses, the respective authors identified by the initials over each. It will clearly be seen that those three were sadly in want of occupation, and were wound up for a long run:

T. T.

I came to Penygwryd With colours armed and pencils, But found no use whatever For any such utensils;

So in default of them I took To using knives and forks, And made successful drawings-- Of Mrs. Owen’s corks!

C. K.

I came to Penygwryd In frantic hopes of slaying Grilse, salmon, three-pound red-fleshed trout, And what else there’s no saying;

But bitter cold and lashing rain, And black nor’-eastern skies, sir, Drove me from fish to botany, A sadder man and wiser.

T. H.

I came to Penygwryd A-larking with my betters, A mad wag and a mad poet-- Both of them men of letters;

Which two ungrateful parties, After all the care I’ve took Of them, make me write verses In Henry Owen’s book.

T. T.

We’ve been mist-soak’d on Snowdon, Mist-soak’d on Glyder Fawr; We’ve been wet through on an average Every day three times an hour.

We’ve walk’d the upper leathers From the soles of our balmorals, And as sketchers and as fishers With the weather have had our quarrels.

C. K.

But think just of the plants which stuff’d Our box, old Yarrel’s gift, And of those which might have stuff’d it If the clouds had giv’n a lift;

Of tramping bogs, and climbing cliffs, And shoving down stone fences For spiderwort, Saussurea, And Woodsia strensis.

T. H.

Oh, my dear namesake’s breeches-- You never saw the like-- He bust them all so shameful A-crossing of a dyke;

But Mrs. Owen patched them As careful as a mother, With flannel of three colours-- She hadn’t got no other.

T. T.

But, can we say enough Of those legs of mountain muttons? And that onion sauce lies on our souls, For it made of us three gluttons;

And the Dublin stout is genuine, And so’s the Burton beer, And the apple tarts they’ve won our hearts; And think of soufflets here!

C. K.

Resembling that old woman That never could be quiet, Though victuals (says the child’s song) And drink formed all her diet,

My love for plants and scrambling Shared empire with my dinner; And who says it wasn’t good must be A most fastidious sinner.

T. H.

Now, all I’ve got to say is, You can’t be better treated. Order pancakes, and you’ll find They’re the best you ever eated;

If you scramble o’er the mountains, You should bring an ordnance map; I endorse all that previous gents Have said about the tap.

T. T.

Penygwryd, when wet and worn, has kept A warm fireside for us; Socks, boots, and never-mention-’ems, Mrs. Owen still has dried for us;

With host and hostess, fare and bill, So pleased we are that, going, We feel, for all their kindness, ’Tis we, not they, are Owin’.

T. H., T. T., C. K.

Nos tres in uno juncti Hos fecimus versiculos, Tomas piscator pisces qui Non cepi sed pisciculos,

Tomas sciagraphus sketches qui Non feci sed ridiculos, Herbarius Carolus montes qui Nostravi perpendiculos.

T. H.

There’s big trout I hear in Edno, Likewise in Gwynant lake, And the governor and black alder Are the flies that they will take,

Also the cockabondy, But I can only say, If you think to catch big fishes, I only hope you may!

T. T.

I have come in for more of mountain gloom Than mountain glory, But I’ve seen old Snowdon rear his head With storm-toss’d mist-wreaths hoary

I stood in the fight of mountain winds Upon Bwlch-cwm-y-llan, And I go back an unsketching But a better-minded man.

C. K.

And I, too, have another debt To pay another way, For kindness shown by these good souls To one who’s far away,

Even to this old colley dog, Who tracked the mountains o’er, For one who seeks strange birds and flowers On far Australia’s shore.

Enough; _quantum sufficit_!

It was for lack of that natural outlet, the Visitors’ Book, that many old-time guests had recourse to the window-pane. Unfortunately--or should it not perhaps rather be a fortunate circumstance?--while pen and ink were at command of every one, only a diamond ring would serve on glass; and not every guest was so luxuriously equipped.

The classic instance of a window-pane at an inn being thus inscribed is, of course, that of Shenstone’s writing the last stanza of his lines on “Freedom” upon the window of an inn--generally said to be the “Red Lion” at Henley-on-Thames. But who shall decide?

If we are to believe the account of Richard Graves, who knew the poet well, and published _Recollections of Some Particulars in the Life of the Late William Shenstone, Esq._, in 1788, the lines were first written in an arbour of what used to be the “Sunrising” inn, on the crest of Edge Hill, a house long since become a private residence.

According to Graves, Shenstone, about 1750, visited a friend, one Mr. Whistler, in the southernmost part of Oxfordshire, and did not particularly enjoy his visit, Mr. Whistler sending the poet’s servant off to stay at an inn, in order that the man and the domestics of his own house should not gossip together. Shenstone himself seems to have been a very unamiable guest, and one better suited to an inn than to the house of a friend; for he grew disagreeable over being expected to play “Pope Joan” in the evening with his friend’s children, and sulked when he lost a trifle at cards. Then he would not dress himself tidily for dinner, and snuffed and slouched to the inconvenience of every one, so that it is not surprising to read of a coolness, and then quarrels, coming to estrange the pair, resulting in Shenstone abruptly cutting short his visit. He lay, overnight, on his journey home, at the “Sunrising” inn, and the next morning, in an arbour, inscribed the famous lines which now form the last stanza of “Freedom.”

“More stanzas,” says Graves, “were added afterwards,” and he rightly adds that they “diminish the force” of the original thought.

The “Sunrising” inn, long since become a private mansion, and added to very largely, has no relics of Shenstone. It stands, with lovely gardens surrounding, on the very lip and verge of Edge Hill, and looks out across the great levels of Warwickshire. In recent times the hill has becomes famous, or notorious, for motor and cycle accidents, and the approach to it is heralded by a notice-board proclaiming “Great Danger. Cyclists Dismount.” But in these days of better brakes, very few obey that injunction, and ride down, safely enough.

Whistler died in 1754, when Shenstone, remorseful, wrote, “how little do all our disputes appear to us now!”

Here, then, is the original story of the famous inscription, but it does not necessarily prove that this melancholy poet did not also inscribe it at Henley-on-Thames and elsewhere, notably at the “White Swan,” at that quite different and far-distant place from the Thames-side Henley, Henley-in-Arden, Warwickshire; an old-fashioned house still in existence, and claiming to date from 1358.

If the story of the “Red Lion” at the Oxfordshire Henley be a myth, as it is held to be, it is one of very considerable age, and one that has not only misled uncounted myriads of writers, but will continue to do so until the end of time. There is no disabling the flying _canard_, no overtaking the original lie, howsoever hard you strive; and as the famous stanza really _was_ at one time to be seen on a window of the “Red Lion” (whether written there by Shenstone or another), it really seems that there is a way out of the dilemma that probably has never until now been considered. Shenstone resided on the Shropshire border, near Henley-in-Arden, but on his journeys to and from London must often have stayed at the “Red Lion,” Henley-on-Thames, then on one of the two principal coach-routes; and it is quite probable that he was so pleased with the last stanza of “Freedom,” and so satisfied with its peculiar fitness for inn windows, that he inscribed it at both places, if not indeed at others as well:

To thee, fair Freedom! I retire, From flattery, feasting, dice and din; Nor art thou found in homes much higher Than the lone cot or humble Inn.

’Tis here with boundless power I reign, And every health which I begin, Converts dull port to bright champagne; For Freedom crowns it, at an Inn.

I fly from pomp, I fly from state, I fly from falsehood’s specious grin; Freedom I love, and form I hate, And choose my lodgings at an Inn.

Here, waiter! take my sordid ore, Which lacqueys else might hope to win; It buys what Courts have not in store, It buys me Freedom, at an Inn.

And now once more I shape my way Through rain or shine, through thick or thin, Secure to meet, at close of day, With kind reception at an Inn.

_Whoe’er has travelled life’s dull round, Where’er his stages may have been, May sigh to think how oft he found The warmest welcome--at an Inn._

Misquotation--sometimes a vice, occasionally a great improvement upon the original--has constantly rendered the last two lines:

May sigh to think, he _still_ has found _His_ warmest welcome at an inn;

and here, it seems, the use of posterity is the better.

Neither at the “White Swan” nor the “Red Lion” is the inscription now to be found.

Dean Swift’s bitter jest, by way of advice to the landlord, scratched on a window of the “Three Crosses” inn at Willoughby, on the road to Holyhead, is certainly the next most celebrated. It runs:

There are three Crosses at your door: Hang up your Wife, And you’l count Four. Swift, D., 1730.

I have elsewhere,[8] and at considerable length, told the story of this remarkable incident, and given a _facsimile_ of the still-surviving inscription, so hesitate before reprinting it.

In imagination one sees that gifted man riding horseback on his journeys between London and Holyhead, or Chester and Parkgate, on his way to or from Ireland, halting overnight with his attendant at the rough inns of that time, and leaving broadcast on the dim and flawed glass of their windows humorous or spiteful comments upon anything that chanced to arouse his criticism. You perceive him, waiting impatiently for breakfast, scrawling malignant lampoons with his ring, or recording the stupidities of his servant. The wayside taverns along that great north-westerly road should still have such evidence of his passing, only glass is brittle, and many a pane precious with those autographed records has accidentally perished, while doubtless many another has long ago been removed by admirers, and so become lost to the world.

One such was the pane at the “Yacht” inn at Chester, that hoary timbered and plastered tavern whose nodding gables scarce uphold the story that this was once the foremost hotel of this picturesque city. The Dean, then at the height of his fame, halting here on his way into Ireland, was in one of his companionable humours, and invited the Dean and the other dignified clergy of the Cathedral to supper; but not one of them acknowledged his intended hospitality. Deans, Canons, and Prebendaries all agreed among themselves, or resolved separately, to ignore the distinguished visitor, who, in his rage, decorated a window with the couplet:

Rotten without and mouldering within, This place and its clergy are all near akin.

On the whole, regarding this quite dispassionately, having regard to the gross affront on the one hand and Swift’s malignant nature and very full sense of what was due to himself on the other, it can hardly be said that he rose to the heights of epigram or sank to the depths of abuse demanded by the occasion. Here he surely should have surpassed himself, in the one category or the other, or--even more characteristically--in both. We want more bitterness, more gall, an extra infusion of wormwood, and feel that this is an ineffectual thing that any affronted person, owning a diamond and merely capable of writing, could have achieved. And, even so, the historic pane itself has disappeared.

The guests at inns in the middle of the eighteenth century often did not, it seems, disdain the walls; for in _Columella_, a curious novel of travelling, published about that period, we read that the characters in it found time on their journey “to examine the inscriptions on walls and windows, and learned that the love of woman, the love of wine, and the love of fame were the three ruling passions that usually vented themselves” in this manner.

These were travellers who, come what might, determined to be unconventional.

“When they came to an inn, instead of complaining of their accommodations, or bullying the waiters, they diverted themselves with the humours of my landlord, criticising his taste in his furniture or his pictures, or in perusing the inscriptions on the walls or windows, or inquiring into the history of the neighbouring gentry. In short, they had determined to be pleased with everything, and therefore were not disappointed.”

At the inn where these original persons breakfasted the great patriot, John Wilkes, had usurped the principal place over the parlour chimney. Where they stopped to dine, the virtuous George the Third and the amiable Charlotte had resumed their places in the dining-room, and “Wilkes was only stuck up against the stable-door, and in the temple of Cloacina.”

Alas! poor Wilkes, to be subjected to such an indignity!

At one inn they found the inscription:

James Harding, from Birmingham, dined here, Sept. 29, 1763. Button-maker by trade,

and there is your bid for fame. The other remarks they shamelessly quote are all very well for eighteenth-century books, but they are not permitted on the printed page in our own time.

There was once a poet of a minor sort who not only cherished a mania for scribbling verse on the windows of inns, but was mad enough to collect and print a series of these by no means distinguished efforts, which he published under the title of _Verses written on Windows in several parts of the Kingdom in a Journey to Scotland_.

This extraordinary person was one Aaron Hill, who “flourished” (as an historian might say) between 1685 and 1750. If he is at all remembered to-day, it is only as a friend of Pope, whose truest criticism presents him as “one of the flying fishes, only capable of making brief flights out of the profound.” He afterwards, with more friendship and less truth, described Hill as attempting to dive into dulness, but rising unstained to “mount far off among the swans of Thames.” How pretty! but he was in truth the veriest goose, and his pinions ineffectual.

Hill wrote reams of rhymes, but few of them are poetry and fewer have any power of entertaining. In 1728 he travelled in Scotland, and there--it is an experience not unmatched nowadays--he encountered, while staying at an inn in the Highlands, bad weather. Happily, not all who are weatherbound in those latitudes scrawl their thoughts on windows, or poetic congestion must long since have ensued. At that inn--_what_ inn or _where_ we are not told, he accomplished his one excellent epigram, his solitary perfect quatrain:

Scotland! thy weather’s like a modish wife; Thy winds and rains for ever are at strife; So Termagant a while her thunder tries, And when she can no longer scold--she cries.

Other specimens of his quality do not exhibit the inspiration of those lines, and indeed he is found to be too concerned with moral analogies to please greatly, even in the best of them. Thus:

Where’er the diamond’s busy point could pass, See! what deep wounds have pierced the middle glass! While partial and untouching, all the rest, Highest and lowest panes, shine, unimpressed: No wonder, this!--for, e’en in life, ’tis so; High fortunes stand, unreached--unseen the low, But middle states are marks for every blow.

And again:

Whig and Tory scratch and bite, Just as hungry dogs we see: Toss a bone ’twixt two, they fight, Throw a couple, they agree.

There is some just observation in that last, although how you are to give a bone apiece, and at the same time, to Whig and Tory, would, as I conceive the situation, be a difficult, not to say an impossible, matter in our scheme of politics. When a Government comes into power, be it Whig or Tory, or any other fancy label you please, it takes _all_ the bones, and the other dog merely does the growling, until the times do alter.

With two more specimens we practically exhaust Hill’s well of fancy:

Tender-handed, stroke a nettle, And it stings you, for your pains: Grasp it, like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains. ’Tis the same with common natures, Use ’em kindly, they rebel: But be rough on Nutmeg-graters, And the rogues obey you well.

* * * * *

Here, in wet and windy weather, Muse and I, two mopes together, Far from friends and short of pleasure, Wanting everything but leisure: Scarce content, in any one sense, Tell the showers, and scribble nonsense.

How true that last admission!

INDEX

Adelphi Hotel, Adelphi, i. 212, 264

Ale-stakes, i. 14-17

Anchor, Ripley, ii. 212, 242

Angel, Basingstoke, ii. 279

-- Bury St. Edmunds, i. 238

-- Colchester, i. 90

-- Ferrybridge, ii. 81

-- Grantham, i. 118-123

-- Guildford, ii. 57

-- Islington, i. 119

-- Stilton, ii. 48

Ass-in-the-Bandbox, Nidd, ii. 203

Barge Aground, Brentford, ii. 203

-- Stratford High Road, ii. 203

Battle, Pilgrims’ Hostel at, i. 97

Bay Tree Tavern, St. Swithin’s Lane, ii. 290

Bear, Devizes, ii. 8-16

-- Esher, ii. 116

-- and Billet, Chester, ii. 74

Bear’s Head, Brereton, ii. 62

Beaufort Arms, Bath, i. 254

Beckhampton Inn, i. 238

Bee-Hive, Eaumont Bridge, ii. 138

-- Grantham, ii. 192

Beetle-and-Wedge, Moulsford, ii. 195

Bell, Barnby Moor, i. 60, ii. 55, 81

-- Belbroughton, ii. 245

-- Berkeley Heath, i. 256

-- Dale Abbey, ii. 88, 90

-- Stilton, ii. 48-54

-- Tewkesbury, ii. 283-287

-- Warwick Lane, London, i. 30

-- Woodbridge, ii. 112

Bell and Mackerel, Mile End, ii. 129

Belle Sauvage, Ludgate Hill, i. 229

Berkeley Arms, Tewkesbury, ii. 288

Birch Tree Tavern, St. Swithin’s Lane, ii. 290

Black Bear, Sandbach, ii. 58

-- -- Tewkesbury, ii. 289

-- Boy, Chelmsford, i. 242

-- Bull, Holborn, i. 288-290

-- -- Newcastle-on-Tyne, i. 53

-- Horse, Cherhill, i. 232

-- Jack, Clare Market, i. 242-244

-- Swan, Kirkby Moorside, ii. 267

Blue Bell, Barnby Moor, i. 60, ii. 55, 81

-- Boar, Leicester, i. 202

-- -- Whitechapel, i. 291

-- Dragon, near Salisbury, i. 282-288

-- Lion, Muggleton, _i.e._ Town Malling, i. 226

-- Posts, Chester, i. 155-158

-- -- Portsmouth, ii. 137

Boar, Bluepitts, near Rochdale, ii. 197

Boar’s Head, Eastcheap, ii. 253, 261

-- Middleton, ii. 218

Boot, Chester, ii. 78

Bottom Inn, Chalton Downs, near Petersfield, i. 270-274

Buck and Bell, Long Itchington, ii. 130

Bull, Dartford, i. 79-82

-- Fenny Stratford, ii. 111

-- Rochester, i. 221-223

-- Sissinghurst, ii. 244

-- Whitechapel, i. 242, 245

Bull and Mouth, St. Martin’s-le-Grand, i. 228

Bull’s Head, Meriden, ii. 80

-- Greengate, Salford, i. 7

Burford Bridge Hotel, near Dorking, ii. 273

Bush, Bristol, i. 255

-- Farnham, i. 309

Capel Curig Inn, ii. 254

Carnarvon Castle, Chester, ii. 77

-- Arms, Guildford Street, ii. 289

Cart Overthrown, Edmonton, ii. 203

Castle, Conway, ii. 122

-- Marlborough, i. 60, ii. 8, 90-99

Cat and Fiddle, near Buxton, ii. 147

-- near Christchurch, ii. 181

Cat and Mutton, London Fields, ii. 139

Cats, Sevenoaks, ii. 191

Chapel House, near Chipping Norton, ii. 100-106

Cheney Gate, near Congleton, ii. 139

Chequers, Slapestones, ii. 134

-- of the Hope, Canterbury, i. 85

Civil Usage, Brixham, ii. 203

Clayton Arms, Godstone, ii. 30-34

Coach and Dogs, Oswestry, ii. 200

Coach and Horses, Chalton Downs, near Petersfield, i. 270

Coach and Horses, Isleworth, i. 276

Cock, Eaton Socon, i. 267

-- Great Budworth, ii. 69-71

-- Stony Stratford, ii. 43, 47

Cock and Pymat, Whittington, near Chesterfield, i. 181-184

County Inn, Canterbury, i. 291

Craven Arms, near Church Stretton, ii. 47

Cricketers, Laleham, ii. 167

Crispin and Crispianus, Strood, i. 292-295

Cross Hands, near Chipping Sodbury, ii. 85

Cross Keys, Wood Street, Cheapside, i. 295

Crow-on-Gate, Crowborough, ii. 205

Crown, Chiddingfold, ii. 242

-- Hempstead, i. 310

-- Oxford, ii. 101

-- Rochester, i. 223-225

-- Stamford, ii. 158

Crown and Treaty, Uxbridge, i. 161-169

Custom House, Chester, ii. 77

Dale Abbey, ii. 88-90

Dedlock Arms, i. 290

De Quincey, T., on old inns, i. 57, ii. 274-279

Dial House, Bocking, ii. 226

Dick Whittington, Cloth Fair, i. 4

Dolphin, Potter Heigham, i. 159

Domus Dei, Southampton, i. 90

Dorset Arms, East Grinstead, ii. 35

Duchy Hotel, Princetown, ii. 149

Eagle and Child, Nether Alderley, ii. 209

Edinburgh Castle, Limehouse, ii. 106-108

-- Regent’s Park, ii. 126-128

Eight Bells, Twickenham, ii. 200

Epitaphs on Innkeepers, ii. 245-254

Falcon, Bidford, ii. 89

-- Chester, ii. 74

Falstaff, Canterbury, i. 87

Feathers, Ludlow, ii. 18-25

Ferry inn, Rosneath, ii. 180

Fighting Cocks, St. Albans, i. 4

First and Last, Land’s End, ii. 206

-- Sennen, ii. 206

Fish and Eels, Roydon, i. 118

Flitch of Bacon, Wichnor, ii. 79

Fountain, Canterbury, i. 291

Four Crosses, Hatherton, ii. 134

Fowler, J. Kearsley, of the White Hart, Aylesbury, i. 62

Fox and Hounds, Barley, ii. 153

Fox and Pelican, Grayshott, ii. 180

Fox-under-the-Hill, Strand, i. 255

Garter, Windsor, ii. 261

Gate, Dunkirk, ii. 133

Gate Hangs Well, Nottingham, ii. 133

Gatehouse Tavern, Norwich, ii. 130

George, Amesbury, i. 283-287

-- Andover, ii. 16-18

-- Bridport, i. 180

-- Brighthelmstone, i. 181

-- Broadwindsor, i. 180

-- Colnbrook, i. 188

-- Crawley, ii. 152

-- Grantham, i. 267, ii. 55

-- Glastonbury, i. 107, 116

-- Greta Bridge, i. 268

-- Hayes Common, ii. 172

-- Huntingdon, ii. 47

-- Mere, i. 180

-- Norton St. Philip, i. 123-132

-- Odiham, ii. 44

-- Rochester, i. 82

-- St. Albans, i. 117, 119

-- Salisbury, ii. 263

-- Southwark, i. 31

-- Stamford, ii. 154-158

-- Walsall, i. 60

-- Wanstead, ii. 141

-- Winchcombe, i. 132-136

George and Dragon, Dragon’s Green, ii. 117-119

-- Great Budworth, ii. 137

-- Wargrave-on-Thames, ii. 176

-- West Wycombe, ii. 222

George and Vulture, Lombard Street, i. 213, 251, 264

George the Fourth, Clare Market, i. 242-244

God’s House, Portsmouth, i. 89

Golden Cross, Charing Cross, i. 213-220, ii. 72, 268

Grand Pump Room Hotel, Bath, i. 254

Great Western Railway Hotel, Paddington, i. 72

Great White Horse, Ipswich, i. 246-251

Green Dragon, Alderbury, i. 282-288

-- Combe St. Nicholas, ii. 109

-- Welton, i. 312

-- Wymondham, i. 95

Green Man, Hatton, i. 317

-- Putney Heath, i. 319

Green Man and Black’s Head, Ashbourne, ii. 159

Grenadier, Whitley, ii. 138

Greyhound, Croydon, ii. 153

-- Sutton, ii. 153

-- Thame, i. 160

Guildford Arms, Guildford Street, ii. 290

Halfway House, Rickmansworth, ii. 215

Hark to Bounty, Staidburn, ii. 204

-- Lasher, Castleton, ii. 204

-- Nudger, Dobcross, Manchester, ii. 204

-- Towler, Bury, Lancashire, ii. 204

Haycock, Wansford, ii. 80

Haygate Inn, near Wellington, Salop, ii. 80

Hearts of Oak, West Allington, ii. 87

Herbergers, i. 25

Hop-pole, Tewkesbury, i. 257, ii. 288

Horseshoe and Castle, Cooling, i. 295

Hostelers, i. 25

Hundred-and-One, The, ii. 129

Innkeepers, Epitaphs on, ii. 245-254

Isle of Skye, near Holmfirth, ii. 148

Jack Straw’s Castle, Hampstead Heath, i. 300-302

Johnson Dr., on inns, i. 43-46

Jolly Farmer, Farnham, ii. 217

Keigwin Arms, Mousehole, ii. 230

King and Tinker, Enfield, i. 205-207

King Edgar, Chester, ii. 72-74

King’s Arms, Lancaster, i. 299

-- Malmesbury, ii. 293

-- Salisbury, i. 180

-- Sandwich, ii. 228

King’s Head, Aylesbury, i. 141-143, ii. 38

-- Chigwell, i. 277-283

-- Dorking, i. 230

-- Stockbridge, ii. 249

-- Thame, i. 160

-- Yarmouth, i. 207, ii. 114

Labour in Vain, Stourbridge, ii. 199

Lamb, Eastbourne, ii. 57

Lawrence, Robert, of the “Lion,” Shrewsbury, i. 60, ii. 250

Leather Bottle, Cobham, Kent, i. 230

-- Holborn, ii. 191

Leighton, Archbishop, i. 29

Lion, Shrewsbury, i. 60, 297, ii. 250, 274-279

Lion and Fiddle, Hilperton, ii. 195

Lion and Swan, Congleton, ii. 65-67

Living Sign, Grantham, ii. 192

Load of Mischief, Oxford Street, ii. 162

Locker-Lampson, F., on old inns, i. 58

Loggerheads, Llanverris, ii. 168

Lord Crewe Arms, Blanchland, i. 136-140

Lord Warden, Dover, i. 54

Luttrell Arms, Dunster, ii. 37-40

Lygon Arms, Broadway, ii. 2-8, 244

Magpie, Little Stonham, ii. 153

-- and Stump, Clare Market, i. 242

Maiden’s Head, Uckfield, ii. 37

Maid’s Head, Norwich, ii. 40-42

Maison Dieu, Dover, i. 88

-- Ospringe, i. 84

Malt Shovel, Sandwich, ii. 228

Man Loaded with Mischief, Oxford Street, ii. 162

Marlborough Downs, i. 231-238

Marquis of Ailesbury’s Arms, Manton, i. 232

-- Granby, Dorking, i. 230

Maund and Bush, near Shifnal, ii. 199

Maypole, Chigwell, i. 277-282

Miller of Mansfield, Goring-on-Thames, ii. 177

Molly Mog, ii. 271

Mompesson, Sir Giles, i. 37-41

Mortal Man, Troutbeck, ii. 169

Morison, Fynes, on English inns, i. 36

Music House, Norwich, i. 157

Nag’s Head, Thame, i. 160

Neptune, Ipswich, ii. 110

Newhaven Inn, near Buxton, ii. 255

New Inn, Allerton, ii. 80

-- Gloucester, i. 98-106

-- Greta Bridge, i. 268

-- New Romney, ii. 44

-- Sherborne, i. 106

Newby Head, near Hawes, ii. 149

Noah’s Ark, Compton, i. 90

Nutley Inn, ii. 36

Old Angel, Basingstoke, ii. 279

-- Bell, Holborn, i. 30

-- -- Chester, ii. 78

-- Black Jack, Clare Market, i. 242-244

-- Fox, Bricket Wood, ii. 201

-- Hall, Sandbach, ii. 58-62

-- House at Home, Havant, ii. 220

-- King’s Head, Aylesbury, i. 141-143, ii. 38

-- -- Chester, ii. 77

-- Leather Bottle, Cobham, Kent, i. 230

-- Magpies, Sipson Green, i. 317

-- Rock House, Barton, ii. 196

-- Rover’s Return, Manchester, i. 7

-- Royal Hotel, Birmingham, i. 258, ii. 268

-- Ship, Worksop, ii. 226

-- Star, York, ii. 158

-- Swan, Atherstone, ii. 227

-- Tippling Philosopher, Chepstow, ii. 203

-- White Swan, Piff’s Elm, i. 202-205

Osborne’s Hotel, Adelphi, i. 212, 264

Ostrich, Colnbrook, i. 188-201

Pack Horse and Talbot, Turnham Green, ii. 192

Peacock, Eatanswill, i. 230

-- Rowsley, ii. 25-29

Pelican, Speenhamland, i. 208, ii. 293

Penygwryd Hotel, Llanberis, ii. 294-298

Pheasant, Winterslow Hut, ii. 102

Pickering Arms, Thelwall, ii. 71

Pie, Little Stonham, ii. 153

Pied Bull, Chester, ii. 78

_Piers Plowman_, i. 16-18

Piff’s Elm, i. 202-205

Pilgrims’ Hostel, Battle, i. 97

-- Compton, i. 90

Plough, Blundeston, i. 290

-- Ford, ii. 136

Pomfret Arms, Towcester, i. 259-263

Pounds Bridge, near Penshurst, ii. 220

Queen’s Arms, Charmouth, i. 180

-- Head, Hesket Newmarket, i. 299

-- Hotel, St. Martin’s-le-Grand, i. 229

-- Burton-on-Trent, ii. 114

Raven, Hook, ii. 86

-- Shrewsbury, i. 42, 60

Red Bull, Stamford, ii. 158

Red Horse, Stratford-on-Avon, ii. 47, 269-271

Red Lion, Banbury, i. 146

-- Canterbury, i. 51

-- Chiswick Mall, ii. 123-125

-- Egham, ii. 53-56

-- Glastonbury, i. 116

-- Great Missenden, ii. 198

-- Guildford, ii. 262

-- Hampton-on-Thames, ii. 159

-- Hatfield, ii. 55

-- Henley-on-Thames, ii. 299-301

-- High Wycombe, i. 184

-- Hillingdon, i. 169

-- Martlesham, ii. 113, 165

-- Ospringe, i. 84

-- Parliament Street, i. 265, 290

Reindeer, Banbury, i. 145, 147-155, 169

Ridler’s Hotel, Holborn, i. 31

Robin Hood, Turnham Green, ii. 131

-- Cherry Hinton, ii. 131

Rose, Wokingham, ii. 271

Rose and Crown, Halifax, ii. 273

-- Rickmansworth, ii. 215

Rover’s Return, Shudehill, Manchester, i. 7

Row Barge, Wallingford, ii. 178

Royal County Hotel, Durham, ii. 55

Royal George, Knutsford, ii. 279

-- Stroud, ii. 82

Royal Hotel, Bath, i. 255

-- Bideford, ii. 273

Royal Oak, Bettws-y-Coed, ii. 172-175

Rummyng, Elynor, i. 19-24

Running Footman, Hay Hill, i. 255, ii. 193

Running Horse, Leatherhead, i. 18-25

-- Merrow, ii. 233

Salutation, Ambleside, ii. 292

Saracen’s Head, Bath, i. 266

-- Southwell, i. 172-180

-- Towcester, i. 259-263

Serjeant’s Inn Coffee House, i. 255

Seven Stars, Manchester, i. 6, 8-12

Shakespeare’s Head, near Chipping Norton, ii. 100-106

Shears, Wantage, ii. 202

Shepherd’s Shore, Marlborough Downs, i. 232-237

Ship and Lobster, Denton, near Gravesend, i. 296

-- Afloat, Bridgwater, ii. 203

-- Aground, ii. 203

Ship, Brixham, ii. 139

-- Dover, i. 54

Smiling Man, Dudley, ii. 203

Smoker, Plumbley, ii. 179

Soldier’s Fortune, Kidderminster, ii. 136

Sondes Arms, Rockingham, i. 290

Spaniards, Hampstead Heath, i. 256, 320-327

Star, Alfriston, i. 93-97, ii. 165

-- Lewes, ii. 37

-- Yarmouth, ii. 42-44, 273

Stocks, Clapgate, ii. 202

Stonham Pie, Little Stonham, ii. 153

Sugar Loaves, Sible Hedingham, ii. 195

Sun, Canterbury, i. 292

-- Cirencester, i. 180

-- Dedham, ii. 225

-- Northallerton, ii. 248

Sunrising Inn, Edge Hill, ii. 299

Swan and Bottle, Uxbridge, i. 165

-- Charing, ii. 188

-- Ferrybridge, ii. 81, 83

-- Fittleworth, ii. 159, 183

-- Haslemere, ii. 242

-- Kirkby Moorside, ii. 267

-- Knowle, ii. 231-233

-- near Newbury, ii. 216

-- Preston Crowmarsh, ii. 179

-- Rickmansworth, ii. 214

-- Sandleford, ii. 217

-- Tewkesbury, ii. 288

-- Thames Ditton, ii. 292

-- Town Malling, i. 226

-- with Two Necks, Gresham Street, i. 54-56

Tabard, Southwark, i. 77-79

Talbot, Atcham, ii. 80

-- Cuckfield, ii. 81

-- Newark, i. 308

-- Ripley, ii. 213

-- Shrewsbury, ii. 80

-- Southwark, i. 79

-- Towcester, ii. 115, 243

Tan Hill Inn, Swaledale, near Brough, ii. 145

Tankard, Ipswich, ii. 110

Thorn, Appleton, ii. 138

Three Cats, Sevenoaks, ii. 191

-- Cocks, near Hay, ii. 47

-- Crosses, Willoughby, ii. 303

-- Crowns, Chagford, i. 170-172

-- Horseshoes, Great Mongeham, ii. 197

-- Houses, Sandal, i. 308

-- Jolly Bargemen, Cooling, i. 295

-- Magpies, Sipson Green, i. 317

-- Queens, Burton-on-Trent, ii. 114

-- Tuns, Bideford, ii. 110

Town Arms, Eatanswill, i. 230

Traveller’s Rest, Flash Bar, ii. 148

-- Kirkstone Pass, ii. 148

Treaty House, Uxbridge, i. 161-169

Trevelyan Arms, Barnstaple, ii. 40, 110

Trip to Jerusalem, Nottingham, ii. 134

Trouble House, near Tetbury, ii. 203

Turnspit Dogs, i. 48-51

Turpin’s Cave, Epping Forest, i. 310

Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Bluepitts, near Rochdale, ii. 197

Unicorn, Bowes, i. 269

-- Ripon, ii. 121

Verulam Arms, St. Albans, ii. 79

Vine, Mile-End, ii. 259

_Vision of Piers Plowman_, i. 16-18

Visitors’ Books, ii. 291-308

Waggon and Horses, Beckhampton, i. 233, 237

Wellington, Broadstairs, ii. 47

-- Market Place, Manchester, i. 7

-- Rushyford Bridge, i. 60

-- Tewkesbury, ii. 287

Whetstone, Chiswick Mall, ii. 124

White Bear, Fickles Hole, ii. 203

-- and Whetstone, Chiswick Mall, ii. 123-125

-- Bull, Ribchester, ii. 119-121

White Hart, Adwalton, ii. 255

-- Aylesbury, i. 62-67, 140

-- Bath, i. 254

-- Castle Combe, ii. 234

-- Drighlington, ii. 255

-- Eatanswill, i. 230

-- Glastonbury, i. 112

-- Godstone, ii. 30-34

-- Guildford, ii. 55

-- Hackney Marshes, ii. 257-259

-- Scole, ii. 150

-- Somerton, i. 185-187

-- Southwark, i. 226-228

-- Whitchurch, Hants, ii. 280

-- Widcombe, i. 254

-- Yard, Gray’s Inn Road, ii. 106

White Horse, Eaton Socon, i. 267

-- Fetter Lane, i. 31, 219

-- Maiden Newton, ii. 289

-- Shere, ii. 241

-- Woolstone, ii. 211

White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly, i. 253

White House, Hackney Marshes, ii. 259

White Lion, Maidstone, i. 226

White Swan, Henley-in-Arden, ii. 300

Who’d Have Thought It, Barking, ii. 204

Why Not, Dover, ii. 204

Widow’s Son, Bromley-by-Bow, ii. 125-127

Windmill, North Cheriton, ii. 89-91

-- Salt Hill, i. 60

-- Tabley, ii. 179

Winterslow Hut, near Salisbury, ii. 102

Wizard, Alderley Edge, ii. 65-69

Wood’s Hotel, Furnival’s Inn, i. 31

World Turned Upside Down, Old Kent Road, ii. 204

-- near Three Mile Cross, ii. 204

Wright’s, Rochester, i. 223-225

Yacht, Chester, ii. 77, 304

_Printed and bound by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _The Great North Road_, 1901, vol. i., pp. 260-66.

[2] The sign of “Scole White Hart,” illustrated in _Norwich Road_, p. 265.

[3] Illustrated: _Brighton Road_, pp. 333, 337.

[4] Illustrated: _Brighton Road_, p. 295.

[5] Illustrated: _Norwich Road_, p. 256.

[6] It is now the “Dolphin,” and numbered 269.

[7] Cf. _The Hastings Road_, p. 82.

[8] _The Holyhead Road_, vol. i., pp. 244-7; _Stage Coach and Mail in Days of Yore_, vol. i., p. 46.