The dust carts were not unmixed blessings—
The Dustman's Cart offends thy Cloaths and Eyes
When through the Street a Cloud of Ashes flies.
And there were other ways of 'offending Cloaths.'
When Drays bound high, they never cross behind,
Where bubbling Yest is blown by Gusts of Wind:
And when up Ludgate Hill huge Carts move slow,
Far from the straining Steeds, securely go,
Whose dashing Hoofs, behind them, fling the Mire,
And mark, with muddy Blots, the gazing Squire.
In walking the rule was the same as now: everyone should take the right-hand side of the path; and the courtesies of giving way on special occasions are clearly pointed out in the following lines, showing there was a time to concede and a time to retain the right to the wall:—
Let due Civilities be strictly paid.
The Wall surrender to the hooded Maid;
Nor let thy sturdy Elbow's hasty Rage
Jostle the feeble Steps of trembling Age:
And when the Porter bends beneath his Load,
And pants for Breath; clear thou the crouded Road.
But above all, the groaping Blind direct,
And from the pressing Throng the Lame protect.
You'll sometimes meet a Fop, of Nicest Tread,
Whose mantling Peruke veils his empty Head,
At ev'ry Step he dreads the Wall to lose,
And risques, to save a Coach, his red heel'd Shoes;
Him like the Miller, pass with Caution by,
Lest from his Shoulder Clouds of Powder fly.
But when the Bully, with assuming Pace
Cocks his Broad Hat, edg'd round with tarnished Lace,
Yield not the Way; defie his strutting Pride,
And thrust him to the Muddy Kennel's side;
He never turns again, nor dares oppose,
But mutters Coward Curses as he goes.
The shops were low, and mostly with overhanging pent-houses, which were inconvenient.
Where the low Penthouse bows the Walker's head,
And the rough Pavement wounds the yielding Tread:
Where not a Post protects the narrow Space,
And strung in Twines, Combs dangle in thy Face.
The goods were very much exposed; in fact, such conduct now in a shopkeeper would rouse the virtuous indignation of any metropolitan magistrate; but there was generally an apprentice on the look-out. Our modern costermonger's barrows had a prototype. 'We mov'd on till we came to Fleet Bridge, where Nuts, Ginger bread, Oranges and Oysters, lay Pil'd up in Moveable Shops that run upon Wheeles, attended by Ill looking Fellows, some with but one Eye, and others without Noses.'[588]
The street signs, which were necessary, as houses were not numbered, were very numerous and large, and some were exceedingly costly. Misson was very much struck with them. 'At London they are commonly very large, and jutt out so far, that in some narrow Streets they touch one another; nay, and run across almost quite to the other Side. They are generally adorn'd with Carving and Gilding; and there are several that, with the Branches of Iron which support them, cost above a hundred Guineas. They seldom write upon the Sign the Name of the Thing represented in it; so that here is no need of Molière's Inspector. Out of London, and particularly in Villages, the Signs of Inns are suspended in the middle of a great Wooden Portal, which may be look'd upon as a Kind of triumphal Arch to the Honour of Bacchus.'