London Taverns. The history of signboards, from the Earliest Times to
the Present Day.
By Jacob Larwood and john Camden Hotten. (1866)
The field of history is a wide one, and when the beaten tracks have been well
traversed, there will yet remain some of the lesser paths to explore. The
following attempt at a “History of Signboards” may be deemed the result of an
exploration in one of these by-ways. Although from the days of Addison's
Spectator down to the present time many short articles have been written upon
house-signs, nothing like a general inquiry into the subject has, as yet, been
published in this country. The extraordinary number of examples and the numerous
absurd combinations afforded such a mass of entangled material as doubtless
deterred writers from proceeding beyond an occasional article in a magazine, or
a chapter in a book,—when only the more famous signs would be cited as instances
of popular humour or local renown. How best to classify and treat the thousands
of single and double signs was the chief difficulty in compiling the present
work. That it will in every respect satisfy the reader is more than is
expected—indeed much more than could be hoped for under the best of
circumstances. In these modern days, the signboard is a very unimportant object:
it was not always so. At a time when but few persons could read and write,
house-signs were indispensable in city life. As education spread they were less
needed; and when in the last century, the system of numbering houses was
introduced, and every thoroughfare had its name painted at the beginning and
end, they were no longer a positive necessity—their original value was gone, and
they lingered on, not by reason of their usefulness, but as instances of the
decorative humour of our ancestors, or as advertisements of established
reputation and business success. For the names of many of our streets we are
indebted to the sign of the old inn or public-house, which frequently was the
first building in the street—commonly enough suggesting its erection, or at
least a few houses by way of commencement. The huge “London Directory” contains
the names of hundreds of streets in the metropolis which derived their titles
from taverns or public-houses in the immediate neighbourhood. As material for
the etymology of the names of persons and places, the various old signs may be
studied with advantage. In many other ways the historic importance of
house-signs could be shown. Something like a classification of our subject was
found absolutely necessary at the outset, although from the indefinite nature of
many signs the divisions “Historic,” “Heraldic,” “Animal,” &c.—under which the
various examples have been arranged—must be regarded as purely arbitrary, for in
many instances it would be impossible to say whether such and such a sign should
be included under the one head or under the other. The explanations offered as
to origin and meaning are based rather upon conjecture and speculation than upon
fact—as only in very rare instances reliable data could be produced to bear them
out. Compound signs but increase the difficulty of explanation: if the road was
uncertain before, almost all traces of a pathway are destroyed here. When,
therefore, a solution is offered, it must be considered only as a suggestion of
the possible meaning. As a rule, and unless the symbols be very obvious, the
reader would do well to consider the majority of compound signs as quarterings
or combinations of others, without any hidden signification. A double signboard
has its parallel in commerce, where for a common advantage, two merchants will
unite their interests under a double name ; but as in the one case so in the
other, no rule besides the immediate interests of those concerned can be laid
down for such combinations. A great many signs, both single and compound, have
been omitted. To have included all, together with such particulars of their
history as could be obtained, would have required at least half-a-dozen folio
volumes. However, but few signs of any importance are known to have been
omitted, and care has been taken to give fair samples of the numerous varieties
of the compound sign. As the work progressed a large quantity of material
accumulated for which no space could be found, such as “A proposal to the House
of Commons for raising above half a million of money per annum, with a great
ease to the subject, by a TAX upon SIGNs, London, 1695,” a very curious tract; a
political jeu-d'esprit from the Harleian MSS., (5953) entitled “The Civil Warres
of the Citie,” a lengthy document prepared for a journal in the reign of William
of Orange by one “E. I.,” and giving the names and whereabouts of the principal
London signs at that time. Acts of Parliament for the removal or limitation of
signs; and various religious pamphlets upon the subject, such as “Helps for
Spiritual Meditation, earnestly Recommended to the Perusal of all those who
desire to have their Hearts much with God,” a chap-book of the time of Wesley
and Whitfield, in which the existing “Signs of London are Spiritualized, with an
Intent, that when a person walks along the Street, instead of having their Mind
fill'd with Vanity, and their Thoughts amus'd with the trifling Things that
continually present themselves, they may be able to Think of something
Profitable.” Anecdotes and historical facts have been introduced with a double
view ; first, as authentic proofs of the existence and age of the sign;
secondly, in the hope that they may afford variety and entertainment. They will
callup many a picture of the olden time; many a trait of bygone manners and
customs—old shops and residents, old modes of transacting business, in short,
much that is now extinct and obsolete. There is a peculiar pleasure in pondering
over these old houses, and picturing them to ourselves as again inhabited by the
busy tenants of former years; in meeting the great names of history in the hours
of relaxation, in calling up the scenes which must have been often witnessed in
the haunt of the pleasure-seeker,-the tavern with its noisy company, the
coffee-house with its politicians and smart beaux; and, on the other hand, the
quiet, unpretending shop of the ancient bookseller filled with the monuments of
departed minds. Such scraps of history may help to picture this old London as it
appeared during the last three centuries. For the contemplative mind there is
some charm even in getting at the names and occupations of the former inmates of
the houses now only remembered by their signs; in tracing, by means of these
house decorations, their modes of thought or their ideas of humour, and in
rescuing from oblivion a few little anecdotes and minor facts of history
connected with the house before which those signs swung in the air. It is a pity
that such a task as the following was not undertaken many years ago; it would
have been much better accomplished then than now. London is so rapidly changing
its aspect, that ten years hence many of the particulars here gathered could no
longer be collected. Already, during the printing of this work, three old houses
famous for their signs have been doomed to destruction—the Mitre in Fleet
Street, the Tabard in Southwark, (where Chaucer's pilgrims lay,) and Don
Saltero's house in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. The best existing specimens of old
signboards may be seen in our cathedral towns. Antiquaries cling to these
places, and the inhabitants themselves are generally animated by a strong
conservative feeling. In London an entire street might be removed with far less
of public discussion than would attend the taking down of an old decayed sign in
one of these provincial cities. Does the reader remember an article in Punch,
about two years ago, entitled “Asses in Canterbury?” It was in ridicule of the
Canterbury Commissioners of Pavement, who had held grave deliberations on the
well-known sign of Sir John Falstaff, hanging from the front of the hotel of
that name,—a house which has been open for public entertainment these three
hundred years. The knight with sword and buckler (from “Henry the Fourth,”) was
suspended from some ornamental ironwork, far above the pavement, in the open
thoroughfare leading to the famous Westgate, and formed one of the most
noticeable objects in this part of Canterbury. In 1787, when the general order
was issued for the removal of all the signs in the city—many of them obstructed
the thoroughfares—this was looked upon with so much veneration that it was
allowed to remain until 1863, when for no apparent reason it was sentenced to
destruction. However, it was only with the greatest difficulty that men could be
found to pull it down, and then several cans of beer had first to be distributed
amongst them as an incentive to action—in so great veneration was the old sign
held even by the lower orders of the place. Eight pounds were paid for this
destruction, which, for fear of a riot, was effected at three in the morning,
“amid the groans and hisses of the assembled multitude,” says a local paper.
Previous to the demolition the greatest excitement had existed in the place; the
newspapers were filled with articles; a petition with 400 signatures—including
an M.P., the prebends, minor canons, and clergy of the cathedral—prayed the
local “commissioners” that the sign might be spared; and the whole community was
in an uproar. No sooner was the old portrait of Sir John removed than another
was put up ; but this representing the knight as seated, and with a can of ale
by his side, however much it may suit the modern publican's notion of military
ardour, does not please the owner of the property, and a fac-simile of the
time-honoured original is in course of preparation.
Concerning the internal arrangement of the following work, a few explanations
seem necessary. Where a street is mentioned without the town being specified, it
in all cases refers to a London thoroughfare. The trades tokens so frequently
referred to, it will be scarcely necessary to state, were the brass farthings
issued by shop or tavern keepers, and generally adorned with a representation of
the sign of the house. Nearly all the tokens alluded to belong to the latter
part of the seventeenth century, mostly to the reign of Charles II. As the work
has been two years in the press, the passing events mentioned in the earlier
sheets refer to the year 1864. In a few instances it was found impossible to
ascertain whether certain signs spoken of as existing really do exist, or
whether those mentioned as things of the past are in reality so. The wide
distances at which they are situated prevented personal examination in every
case, and local histories fail to give such small particulars. The rude
unattractive woodcuts inserted in the work are in most instances facsimiles,
which have been chosen as genuine examples of the style in which the various old
signs were represented. The blame of the coarse and primitive execution,
therefore, rests entirely with the ancient artist, whether sign painter or
engraver. Translations of the various quotations from foreign languages have
been added for the following reasons:—It was necessary to translate the numerous
quotations from the Dutch signboards; Latin was Englished for the benefit of the
ladies, and Italian and French extracts were Anglicised to correspond with rest.
Errors, both of fact and opinion, may doubtless be discovered in the book. If,
however, the compilers have erred in a statement or an explanation, they do not
wish to remain in the dark, and any light thrown upon a doubtful passage will be
acknowledged by them with thanks. Numerous local signs—famous in their own
neighbourhood—will have been omitted, (generally, however, for the reasons
mentioned on a preceding page,) whilst many curious anecdotes and particulars
concerning their history may be within the knowledge of provincial readers. For
any information of this kind the compilers will be much obliged; and should
their work ever pass to a second edition, they hope to avail themselves of such
friendly contributions.