(as the famous Saffold has it).'
Brown, also, has plenty to say about them, but one short extract only will be borrowed: 'Every Coffee House is illuminated both without and within doors; without by a fine glass Lantern, and within by a Woman so light and splendid, you may see through her without the help of a Perspective. At the Bar the good Man always places a Charming Phillis or two, who invite you by their amorous glances into their smoaky Territories, to the loss of your sight.' These 'pretty barmaids' are spoken of by Steele[295]: 'Upon reading your late Dissertation concerning Idols, I cannot but complain to you that there are, in Six or Seven Places of this City, Coffee houses kept by Persons of that Sisterhood. These Idols sit and receive all Day long the adoration of the Youth within such and such Districts,' etc. Another contemporary[296] notices that 'A Handsom Bar keeper invites more than the Bush. She's the Loadstone that attracts Men of Steel, both those that wear it to some purpose, and those that wear it to none. No City Dame is demurer than she at first Greeting, nor draws in her Mouth with a Chaster Simper; but in a little time you may be more familiar, and she'll hear a double Entendre without blushing.'
Steele[297] gives a polished account of coffee-house frequenters and politicians: 'I, who am at the Coffee house at Six in a Morning, know that my friend Beaver the Haberdasher has a Levy of more undissembled Friends and Admirers, than most of the Courtiers or Generals of Great Britain. Every Man about him has, perhaps, a News Paper in his Hand; but none can pretend to guess what Step will be taken in any one Court of Europe, till Mr. Beaver has thrown down his Pipe, and declares what Measures the Allies must enter into upon this new Posture of Affairs. Our Coffee House is near one of the Inns of Court, and Beaver has the Audience and Admiration of his Neighbours from Six 'till within a Quarter of Eight, at which time he is interrupted by the Students of the House; some of whom are ready dress'd for Westminster, at Eight in a Morning, with Faces as busie as if they were retained in every Cause there; and others come in their Night Gowns to saunter away their Time, as if they never designed to go thither. I do not know that I meet in any of my Walks, Objects which move both my Spleen and laughter so effectually, as these young Fellows at the Grecian, Squire's, Searle's, and all other Coffee Houses adjacent to the Law, who rise early for no other purpose but to publish their Laziness. One would think these young Virtuosos take a gay Cap and Slippers, with a Scarf and Party Coloured Gown, to be Ensigns of Dignity, for the vain things approach each other with an Air, which shews they regard one another for their Vestments.... When the Day grows too busie for these Gentlemen to enjoy any longer the Pleasures of their Deshabille with any manner of Confidence, they give place to Men who have Business or Good Sense in their Faces, and come to the Coffee house, either to transact Affairs or enjoy Conversation.'
News was, of course, one of the prime objects of these gatherings. 'I love News extreamly, I have read Three News Letters to day. I go from Coffee House to Coffee House all day on Purpose,'[298] was literally true of some men. Not that their little newspapers gave them much—but of them hereafter. Yet there was a chance of hearing some news before it got into the papers; and the quidnuncs would go to the Windsor, where was to be had 'also the Translation of the Harlem Courant, soon after the Post is come,' or to Grigsby's, where 'all Foreign News is taken in, and Translated into English immediately after the arrival of any Mail,' or to Elford's, where 'is to be seen and read Gratis, the Journal of the famous Voyage of the Duke and Dutchess Privateer of Bristol that took the rich Aquiápulca Ship containing many remarkable Transactions. Also an Account of a Man living alone 4 Years and 4 Months in the Island of John Fernando, which they brought with them.' This was, of course, Alexander Selkirk, who was brought off the island on February 12, 1709; and this log, or the coffee-house gossip anent it, probably furnished the inspiration for 'Robinson Crusoe,' which Defoe published in 1719.
We have seen how the coffee-house keepers tried to advance their beverages from 1d. to 1-1/2d. because of the rise in coffee; but the effort was spasmodic, and did not last. They had a far better cry in 1712, as we find in the Daily Courant of August 8 in that year. 'These are to give Notice, That the Coffee Men by reason of the present Taxes on Coffee, Tea, Paper, Candles, and Stamps on all Newspapers, find themselves under a necessity of advancing some of their Liquors to the prices following; viz, Coffee 2d. per dish: Green Tea 3 halfpence; and all Drams 2d. per Dram: to commence from this day.' Let us hope when they got this huge advance they made their tea stronger, and did not give their customers 'that pall'd Stuff too often found in mean Coffee Houses.'[299]
No doubt, from the familiar abbreviations, such as Tom's, Ned's, Will's, John's, etc., some of the coffee-houses were kept by waiters who had saved a little money—such an one as 'Tom the Tyrant; who, as first Minister of the Coffee House, takes the Government upon him between the Hours of Eleven and Twelve at night, and gives his Orders in the most Arbitrary manner to the Servants below him as to the Disposition of Liquors, Coal and Cinders;'[300] while Kidney, the waiter at the St. James's Coffee House, immortalised in the Tatler as having 'the ear of the greatest politicians that come hither,' could not be spoken with 'without clean linen.'
The chocolate-houses seem to have been a specialty, and they were few in number. In the commencement of the reign, in 1702, chocolate was sold at 12d. the quart, 2d. the dish. I can only find the names of five chocolate-houses (describing themselves as such), and but two of them are of any note, White's and the Cocoa Tree. White's was started in 1698, and was, in Queen Anne's reign, situated five doors from the bottom of the west side of St. James's Street, ascending from St. James's Palace. It had a small garden attached to it. This house was burnt down in 1733, the King and Prince of Wales looking on. Hogarth has immortalised this event in Plate 6 of the 'Rake's Progress.' It was to all intents and purposes a gambling house. When White died is not known, but Mrs. White had it in March 1712. Afterwards it passed into the hands of Arthur, who had it when it was burnt down; and he removed next door to the St. James's Coffee House. It soon ceased to be a chocolate-house, and became a club. In 1755 it was removed to No. 38, on the opposite or east side of St. James's Street. White's Club is supposed to be political; but, apart from its members being Conservative, it takes no leading part, contenting itself with being extremely aristocratic.
The Cocoa Tree Chocolate House stood at the end of Pall Mall, on the site of what now is 87 St. James's Street. It was a Tory house; indeed, Defoe says, 'A Whig will no more go to the Cocoa Tree or Ozinda's, than a Tory will be seen at the Coffee house of St. James's.' The Cocoa Tree Club is now held at 64 St. James's Street.
As the coffee-houses occupied so prominent a part in the social economy of the time, a very brief notice of some of the best known will be of interest. Anderton's is still in Fleet Street, beloved of Freemasons and literary men. Batson's, in Cornhill, was a famous meeting-place for physicians. The Bay Tree still stands in St. Swithin's Lane. Button's, which was opposite Tom's, in Russell Street, Covent Garden, was a great resort of Addison's; and here contributions to the Guardian could be received. The lion's head which served as a letter-box has been immortalised in that paper. It was in imitation of the famous lion at Venice. The original is still in existence, but is not always accessible to the curious. It was removed from Button's when that coffee-house was taken down, and took refuge in the Shakespeare's Head Tavern, Covent Garden. For a time it was placed in the Bedford Coffee House, and was used as a letter box for contributions to The Inspector. It returned to the Shakespeare's Head in 1769, and remained there till 1804. It was then bought by Charles Richardson, the proprietor of Richardson's Hotel, and at his death it came into the possession of his son, who sold it to the Duke of Bedford, and it is now preserved in Woburn Abbey.
Child's was in St. Paul's Churchyard, and was famous for its learned frequenters. It was not far from the College of Physicians, which was then in Warwick Lane, so doctors came there, and, chief among them, Dr. Mead. Sir Hans Sloane and other members of the Royal Society dropped in, and the house was a noted resort of clergymen—so much so, that it is mentioned as such in the Spectator (No. 609): 'For that a young Divine, after his first Degree in the University, usually comes hither only to shew himself, and on that Occasion is apt to think he is but half equipp'd with a Gown and Cassock for his publick Appearance, if he hath not the additional Ornament of a Scarf of the first Magnitude to entitle him to the appellation of Doctor from his Landlady, and the Boy at Child's.'