There was, however, another class of servants—black slaves; for the children of Ham were still in their cruel bondage here—and many are the advertisements respecting them, from 'a parcel of beads for the Guinea trade' to a 'Mulatto Maid missing.' It seems curious to us, now, to think of the somewhat inconsequent behaviour of those times, keeping black slaves with one hand, and redeeming white ones from Barbary with the other. One thing is, the poor whites only changed their method of slavery, for they were draughted into the navy, and in the long war that followed, there was very little hope of their release. The papers of March 10, 1702, tell of 143 out of 190 of these poor wretches going to St. Paul's, where the Bishop of London gave them 70l. between them, and the dean, Dr. Sherlock, 'admonished them to return thanks to the Government for their Deliverance, and to the People for their Charity, and that they should not pursue the Practices to which Sailers, &c., are too much addicted, viz. Swearing and Cursing. There are about 42 left behind, as 'tis said because some of the Powder, which was carried thither, happened not to be Proof.' And the London Post, March 11/13, tells a touching little romance of this event: 'This day the Slaves lately arrived from Barbary, went in a Body to the Admiralty Office, in order to enter themselves on Board the Queen's Ships; And 'twas observable, that when they came Yesterday out of Paul's, one of them was spy'd out by 2 of his Daughters who came thither only out of Curiosity, and so soon as they saw their Father, run with open Arms, imbraced and kissed him.'

It is needless to say that the negro slaves were always running away, and being advertised for; but, as the rewards given were not high, it is probable that recapture was almost certain. One or two instances will suffice: 'A Slender middle sized India Black, in a dark grey Livery with Brass Buttons, went from Mrs Thwaits, in Stepney, the 4th of June, and is suppos'd to be gone on board some Ship in the Downs; whosoever secures and gives notice of him to Mrs. Thwaits or Mr. Tresham, two doors within Aldgate, shall have 10s. reward and reasonable Charges.' 'Went away from his Master's House in Drury Lane, upon Monday the 6th Instant, and has since been seen at Hampstead, Highgate and Tottenham Court, an Indian Black Boy, with long Hair, about 15 Years of Age, speaks very good English; he went away in a brown Fustian Frock, a blew Wastecoate, and scarlet Shag Breeches, and is called by the name of Morat; Whoever brings him to, or gives Notice of him, so as he may be brought to Mr. Pain's House in Prince's Court, Westminster, shall have a Guinea Reward, and the Boy shall be kindly received.' Judging by his 'long Hair,' this boy was not a negro—indeed it would seem that it only needed a dark skin to constitute a slave; for 'an East India young man, named Cæsar,' ran away. 'A Negro Maid, aged about 16 Years, much pitted with the Small Pox, speaks English well, having a piece of her left Ear bit off by a Dog; She hath on a strip'd Stuff Wastcoat and Petticoat ... they shall have a Guinea Reward and reasonable Charges.' Sometimes (indeed it was rather fashionable) the poor wretches had collars round their necks. 'A Tall Negro young fellow commonly known as Jack Chelsea, having a Collar about his Neck (unless it be lately filed off), with these Words; Mr. Moses Goodyeare of Chelsea his Negro, ran away from his Master last Tuesday evening.' This habit of wearing collars is noticed by Steele,[104] who inserts a letter from 'a blackamoor boy—Pompey.' 'Besides this, the shock dog has a collar that cost almost as much as mine.' Sometimes these collars were of silver. 'Run away from his Master about a Fortnight since, a lusty Negroe Boy about 18 years of Age, full of pock holes, had a Silver Collar about his Neck engrav'd Capt. Tho. Mitchel's Negroe, living in Griffith Street in Shadwel.'

They were rarely advertised to be sold—indeed, I have only found one instance in all the newspapers of the twelve years of Anne's reign, and that is very simple. 'A Negro boy about 12 years of age, that speaks English, is to be sold. Enquire of Mr. Step Rayner, a Watchmaker, at the sign of the Dial, without Bishopsgate.'

Another kind of servant must not be forgotten, although his servitude was but a limited one—and that is the apprentice, of whom Misson says: 'An Apprentice is a sort of a Slave; he wears neither Hat nor Cap in his Master's presence: he can't marry, nor have any Dealings on his own Account. All he earns is his Masters.' Misson is slightly in error in one part of this description, but it is a piece of delicate etiquette, which probably escaped a foreigner's eye: the apprentice might wear his cap in his master's presence during the last year of his time. A branch of industry then existed—although probably it was practised by very few:—'Attendance will be given at the Sun Coffee House in Queen Street, very near Cheapside, on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, where Youth may be furnished with Masters to go Apprentices to Merchants, Wholesale or Retale Trades, or Handicraft Trades.'

CHAPTER VII.
DAILY LIFE.
(Men.)

Out-of-door amusements — A holiday — Hatred of French fashions — Beaus' oaths — Kissing — Fops: their daily life.

Passing to the social habits of the people, it is difficult where to commence the description. The men of the time were humdrum and prosaic—they went nowhere, at least according to our ideas—a journey to York or so was really fraught with peril and hardship, consequently no one ever moved about unless they were compelled. The suburbs were sparsely inhabited, and there was nothing much to see when one got there except at Hampstead or Highgate. 'Your Glass Coach will go to Hide Park for Air. The Suburb fools trudge to Lambs Conduit or Totnam; your sprucer sort of citizen gallop to Epsom, your Meckanick gross Fellows, showing much conjugal affection, strut before their wives, each with a Child in his Arms, to Islington or Hogsdon.'[105] What a suburban holiday was like we may see in the following description, which, however, is somewhat condensed and revised:[106] 'Fearing Time should be Elaps'd and cut short our intended Pastime, we Smoak'd our Pipes with greater Expedition, in order to proceed on our Journey, which we began about Eleven a Clock; and marching thro' Cheapside, found half the People we either met, or overtook, equip'd for Hunting; walking backwards and forwards, as I suppose, to shew one another their Accoutrements. The City Beaus in Boots as black as Jet, which shin d, by much rubbing, like a stick of Ebony; their Heels arm'd with Spurs, the travelling weapons to defend the Rider from the Laziness of his Horse, carefully preserv'd bright in a Box of Cotton, and dazzled in the eyes of each beholder like a piece of Looking glass; their Wastes hoop'd round with Turkey Leather Belts, at which hung a Bagonet, or short Scymitar, in order to cut their Mistresses Names upon the trees of the Forest: In the right Hand a Whip, mounted against the Breast like the Scepter of a King's Statue upon the Change, adorn'd with twisted Wiggs and crown'd with edg'd Casters; being all over in such Prim and Order, that you could scarce distinguish them from Gentlemen. Amongst 'em were many Ladies of the same Quality, ty'd up in Safeguards so be-knotted with their two penny Taffaty, that a Man might guess by their Finery, their Fathers to be Ribbond Weavers. We crowded along, mix'd among the Herd, and could not but fancy the major part of the Citizens were Scampering out of town to avoid the Horse Plague. We mov'd forward, without any discontinuance of our Perambulation, till we came to the Globe at Mile End, where a Pretious Mortal made us a Short hand complement, and gave us an Invitation to a Sir-Loine of Roast Beef, out of which Corroborating Food we renew'd our Lives; and strengthening our Spirits with a flask of rare Claret, took leave of my Friend's Acquaintance and so proceeded.

THE MERRY FIDLER.

'By this time the Road was full of Passengers, every one furnish'd with no small Appetite to Veal and Bacon. Citizens in Crowds, upon Pads, Hackneys, and Hunters; all upon the Tittup, as if he who Rid not a Gallop was to forfeit his Horse. Some Spurring on with that speed and chearfulness, as if they intended never to come back again: Some Double, and some Single. Every now and then drop'd a Lady from her Pillion, another from her Side Saddle; Sometimes a Beau would tumble and dawb his Boots, which, to shew his Neatness, he would clean with his Handkerchief. In this order did we march, like Aaron's Proselites, to Worship the Calf, till we came to the New rais'd Fabrick call'd Mob's Hole, where the Beast was to be Eaten. We press'd hard to get into the House, which we found so full, that when I was in, what with the smell of Sweat, Stinking Breaths and Tobacco, I thought there was but a few Gasps between the Place and Eternity. Some were Dancing to a Bag pipe; others Whistling to a Base Violin, two Fidlers scraping Lilla burlero,[107] my Lord Mayor's[108] Delight, upon a Couple of Crack'd Crowds[109], and an old Oliverian trooper tootling upon a Trumpet.' After a rest and some liquid refreshment, they chatted and bantered with the holiday folk, until 'from thence went into the Kitchin, Built up of Furzes, in the Open Air, to behold their Cookery; where the Major part of the Calf was Roasting upon a Wooden Spit: Two or three great Slivers he had lost off his Buttocks, his Ribs par'd to the very Bone, with holes in his Shoulders, each large enough to bury a Sevil Orange, that he look'd as if a Kennel of Hounds had every one had a Snap at him. Under him lay the Flitch of Bacon of such an Ethiopian Complection, that I should rather have guess'd it the side of a Blackamore; It looking more like a Cannibal's Feast than a Christian Entertainment. Being soon glutted with the view of this unusual piece of Cookery, we departed from thence, and hearing a great bustle in the Upper Room of an Outhouse, we went up Stairs to see what was the matter, where we found a poor Fidler, scraping over the tune of Now Ponder Well you Parents Dear;[110] and a parcel of Country People Dancing and crying to 't. The Remembrance of the Uncles Cruelty to the poor Innocent Babes, and the Robin Red Breasts Kindness, had fix'd in their very Looks such Signs of Sorrow and Compassion, that their Dancing seem'd rather a Religious Worship, than a Merry Recreation. Having thus given ourselves a Prospect of all that the place afforded, we return'd to Stratford, where we got a Coach, and from thence to London.'