There were several coffee-houses kept by persons of the name of Man. There was Old Man's, Young Man's, Man's New Coffee House, Charing Cross, Man's in Birchin Lane, and Man's in Chancery Lane, opposite Lincoln's Inn Gate. Old Man's was in the Tilt Yard, Whitehall, and was the rendezvous for officers in the army. The Paymaster-General's office is now built upon its site. It was kept by the well-known Jenny Man, whom Brown describes as 'pledging an Irish Colonel in Usquebaugh.' The Postboy, June 3/5, 1712, notices her: 'Expect something Extraordinary[305] in our Next. In the mean time, we are inform'd, that Jenny — Man is indispos'd'; and in the Flying Post, Nov. 6/8, 1712, is a song, one verse of which refers to her:—
Alas! alas! for Jenny Man,
'Cause she don't love the Warming Pan,[306]
High Church will all her Actions Scan
Since she was an Inch long, Sirs;
She is no Friend to Right Divine,
Therefore she must not sell French Wine,
But Tea and Coffee, very fine,
And sure that is no Wrong, Sirs.
Young Man's was at Charing Cross, and was a fashionable lounge. It was also a gambling house, for Brown says of it: 'Young Man's Coffee House threw it self in my way, and very kindly offer'd its Protection. I acquiesced then, knowing myself secure from more Dangers than one, and immediately upon my entrance mounted the Stairs, and mingled my Person with the Knights of the Round Table, who hazard three Months Revenue at a single Cast.' Ward is disgusted with the superfine air of the place, and says of its frequenters, 'their whole Exercise being to Charge and Discharge their Nostrils; and keep the Curles of their Periwigs in proper Order.... They made a Humming, like so many Hornets in a Country Chimney, not with their talking, but with their Whispering over their New Minuets and Bories, with their Hands in their Pockets, if freed from their Snush Box.... Amongst them were abundance of Officers, or Men who by their Habit appear'd to be such; but look'd as tenderly, as if they Carried their Down beds with them into the Camp, and did not dare to come out of their Tents, in a cold morning, till they had Eat a Mess of Plum Panada for Breakfast, to defend their Stomachs from the Wind.... Having sat all this while looking about us, like a Couple of Minerva's Birds, among so many Juno's Peacocks, admiring their Gaiety; we began to be thoughtful of a Pipe of Tobacco, which we were not assur'd we could have the liberty of Smoaking, lest we should offend those Sweet Breath Gentlemen. But, however, we Ventur'd to call for some Instruments of Evaporation, which were accordingly brought us, but with such a Kind of unwillingness, as if they would much rather have been rid of our Company; for their Tables were so very Neat, and Shin'd with Rubbing, like the Upper Leathers of an Alderman's shoes. The floor as clean Swept, as a Sir Courtly's Dining Room, which made us look round, to see if there were no Orders hung up to impose the Forfeiture of so much Mop Money upon any Person that should spit out of the Chimney Corner.'
Nando's was in Fleet Street, at the corner of Inner Temple Gate, the house wrongly described as being formerly the palace of Cardinal Wolsey, and now a hairdresser's. It was not particularly famous for anything in Anne's time, only the name is familiar to students of that epoch, as being next door to the shop of Bernard Lintot the bookseller, and mentioned by him in all his advertisements.
Ozinda's was in St. James's Street, and ranked with White's as a Tory house. Robin's was in Exchange Alley. Swift dated some of his letters to Stella from this coffee-house, and Steele mentions it as a Stock Exchange house in the Spectator, No. 454. The Rainbow in Fleet Street is still in existence, and Ward[307] classes it thus: 'Coffee and Water Gruel to be had at the Rainbow and Nando's at Four.' It seems to have been a favourite sign, for I have seven on my list.
Squire's was in Fulwood's (now called Fuller's) Rents in Holborn, and has been rendered historical by Addison, who makes Sir Roger ask him[308] 'if I would smoak a Pipe with him over a Dish of Coffee at Squire's. As I love the old Man, I take delight in complying with everything that is agreeable to him, and accordingly waited on him to the Coffee House, where his venerable Figure drew upon us the Eyes of the whole Room. He had no sooner seated himself at the upper End of the high Table, but he called for a clean Pipe, a Paper of Tobacco, a Dish of Coffee, a Wax Candle, and the Supplement with such an Air of Cheerfulness and Goodhumour, that all the Boys in the Coffee room (who seemed to take pleasure in serving him) were at once employed on his several Errands, insomuch that no Body else could come at a Dish of Tea till the knight had got all his Conveniencies about him.' Squire died in 1717.
The following note on the Smyrna Coffee House is the best description possible to give of it.[309] 'This is to give notice to all ingenious gentlemen in and about the cities of London and Westminster, who have a mind to be instructed in the noble Sciences of Music, Poetry, and Politics, that they repair to the Smyrna Coffee in Pall Mall, betwixt the hours of eight and ten at night, where they may be instructed gratis, with elaborate Essays by word of mouth on all, or any of the above mentioned Arts. The disciples are to prepare their bodies with three dishes of bohea, and purge their brains with two pinches of snuff. If any young student gives indication of parts, by listening attentively, or asking a pertinent question, one of the professors shall distinguish him by taking snuff out of his box in the presence of the whole audience—
'N.B. The seat of learning is now removed from the corner of the chimney on the left hand towards the window, to the round table in the middle of the floor over against the fire; a revolution much lamented by the porters and chairmen, who were much edified through a pane of glass that remained broken all the last summer.'
John Salter's (or, as he was christened by Steele, or Rear Admiral Sir John Munden, 'Don Saltero') was situated in the middle of Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. He was originally a servant to Sir Hans Sloane, and, when he left his service to set up as barber and coffee-house keeper, Sir Hans gave him some odds and ends from his Museum. Other kind friends followed, and Don Saltero's became a place of note, the curiosities, natural and otherwise, taking up much of the space. Indeed, Steele, in recording a visit to the Don's, says,[310] 'When I came into the Coffee house, I had not time to salute the Company, before my eye was diverted by ten thousand jimcracks round the room and on the ceiling.' The first catalogue of his curiosities that he published, was in 1729, and in the preface he says, 'The first Donor was the Honourable Sir John Cope, bart., to whom and Family I am much obliged for several very valuable pieces, both of Nature and Art.' The list comprises 249 articles, which in the 12th edition, 1741, was increased to 420, so that, probably, in Anne's time there were not more than a couple of hundred. Apart from the natural curiosities, which were numerous, were many undoubtedly spurious, as '(2) Painted Ribbands from Jerusalem with the Pillar, to which our Saviour was tied when scourged, with a Motto on each.' '(40) The Queen of Sheba's Fan.' He seems to have invested largely in this royal lady's property, for we have '(53) Queen of Sheba's Cordial Bottle,' and '(55) The Queen of Sheba's Milk Maid's Hat.' No. 56 was 'Pontius Pilate's Wife's Chambermaid's Sister's Sister's Hat'—a relic which, Steele declares, was made within three miles of Bedford.
These rather detract from the possible authenticity of the historical relics, which were numerous, and, if genuine, were curious and valuable. '(15) A Wooden Shoe put under the Speaker's Chair in K. James IId's Time.' '(37) Gustavus Adolphus's Gloves.' '(38) Harry VIIIth's Coat of Mail.' '(39) Queen Elizabeth's Stirrup.' '(41) Katherine Q. Dowager's Coronation Shoes.' '(42) King Charles IId's Band, which he wore in Disguise in the Royal Oak.' '(43) William the Conqueror's Flaming Sword.' '(44) Oliver's Sword.' '(45) King James IId's Coronation Shoes.' '(46) King William the IIId's Coronation Sword.' '(47) King William's Coronation Shoes.' '(49) Queen Anne's Testament.' '(50) Henry the VIIIth's Gloves.' '(51) The Czar of Moscow's Gloves;' and last but not least—an undeniable forgery, '(242) Robinson Crusoe's and his Man Friday's Shirts.'