Ward[169] gives an amusing account of the exterior. 'The Pillars at the Entrance of the Front Porticum were adorn'd with sundry Memorandums of old Age and Infirmity, under which stood here and there a Jack in a Box, like a Parson in a Pulpit, selling Cures for your Corns, Glass Eyes for the Blind, Ivory Teeth for Broken Mouths, and Spectacles for the weak sighted; the Passage to the Gate being lin'd with Hawkers, Gardeners, Mandrake Sellers, and Porters; after we had Crowded a little way amongst the Miscellaneous Multitude, we came to a Pippin Monger's Stall, surmounted with a Chymist's Shop; where Drops, Elixirs, Cordials, and Balsams had justly the Pre-eminence of Apples, Chesnuts, Pears, and Oranges,' etc., showing a view of the motley group of costermongers without. The pillars of the Exchange were hung round with advertisements, as indeed they were until very recently.
Some well-known names of bankers were then in existence—Child's, Hoare's, Stone's, and Martin's. In Harl. MSS. 5996, 153 is a somewhat curious advertisement of Sir Richard Hoare's. 'Whereas there hath been several false and Malicious Reports industriously spread abroad reflecting on Sir Richard Hoare, Goldsmith, for occasioning and promoting a Run for Money on the Bank of England; and in particular, several of the Directors of the said Bank reporting, That the said Sir Richard sent to the Bank for Ten of their Notes of £10 each, with a design to send several Persons with the said Notes to receive the Money thereon, so as to effect his ill Designs, and to bring a Disreputation on the Bank, and occasion a Disturbance in the City of London:
'This is to satisfie all Persons, That the Right Honourable the Lord Ashburnham, Father of the Honourable Major Ashburnham, Major of the First Troop of Her Majesty's Life Guards, who was ordered to march for Scotland, sending to the said Sir Richard Hoare for a large Quantity of Gold, and for Ten Bank Notes of £10 each, for the said Major to take with him to bear his Expenses. The Gold was sent to his Lordship accordingly, and Sir Richard's Servant went to the Bank for ten Notes of £10 each, which the Cashier of the Bank refus'd to give: But if Sir Richard had intended to promote a Run for Mony on the Bank, he could have done it in a more effectual manner, having by him, all the time that the great demand for Mony was on the Bank, several Thousand Pounds in Notes payable by the Bank; and also there was brought to Sir Richard by several Gentlemen, in the time of the Run on the Bank, Notes payable by the said Bank, amounting to a great many Thousands of Pounds, which he was desir'd to take and receive the Mony presently from the Bank, which he refus'd to do until the great Demand on the Bank for Money was over.
'N.B. That the Reports against Sir Richard have been more Malicious than herein is mention'd, which he forbears to insert for brevity's sake.'
Ward, for some reason, disliked bankers: 'What methods do they take now to improve their Cash? The chief advantage they now make is by supplying the Necessities of straiten'd Merchants and great Dealers, to pay (for) the Goods imported, rather than they should fall under the Discredit as well as Disadvantage of being run into the King's Ware House, or by assisting of 'em in the purchase of great Bargains, or the like; for which they make 'em pay such unreasonable extortion, that they devour more of the Merchants Profit than Snails, Worms or Magpies, do of the Farmers Crop, or the Gardiner's Industry.' If this was all the fault he could find, their iniquities were not very glaring.
CHAPTER XIII.
MEN'S DRESS.
A beau — An inventory of him — Hats — Wigs: their price: varieties — Hair powder — Robbery of wigs — Natural hair — Neck cloths — Shirts — Open waistcoats — Colonel Edgworth — Coats — Cheap clothiers — Stockings — Boots and shoes — Shoeblacks and blacking — Handkerchiefs — Muffs — Swords — Walking sticks — Watches — Over coats — Night caps — Night gowns.
We have seen the birth, marriage, and funeral of these good people, and have noted some of their social habits. Next is, how did they dress? Far plainer than in Charles the Second's time, rather richer than under solemn and austere Dutch William, yet not nearly as finely as during the Georgian era. That, of course, is speaking of ordinary mortals—neither the titled ones of the land, who showed their rank by their dress, nor the beaus, who formed no inconsiderable portion of metropolitan life, and at whom were levelled stinging little shafts of satire from all sides, mostly good-humoured. The macaroni, the dandy, the buck, the blood, the swell—all are fine, but the beau of Anne's time was superfine, and modelled on the messieurs of the time of Louis XIV. He cannot be dismissed in a few words, for he was an institution of the time. There were travelled fops, and they were hated—there were those of home manufacture, and they were laughed at. Misson notes that 'A Beau is so much the more remarkable in England, because generally speaking, the English Men dress in a plain uniform manner,' and he describes them as 'Creatures compounded of a Perriwig and a Coat laden with Powder as white as a Miller's, a Face besmear'd with Snuff, and a few affected airs; they are exactly like Molière's Marquesses, and want nothing but that Title, which they would infallibly assume in any other Country but England.' Cibber[170] describes him as one 'that's just come to a small Estate, and a great Perriwig—he that Sings himself among the Women—He won't speak to a Gentleman when a Lord's in Company. You always see him with a Cane dangling at his Button, his Breast open, no Gloves, one Eye tuck'd under his Hat, and a Toothpick.' Verily, there is little new under the sun, and we, in these our latter days, have been familiar with the Toothpick.
Ward naturally loves him—impales him on his entomological pin—and enjoys his wriggles. He puts him under his microscope and minutely observes him, and then gives us the benefit of his description: 'A Beau is a Narcissus that is fallen in Love with himself and his own Shadow. Within Doors he is a great Friend to a great Glass, before which he admires the Works of his Taylor more than the whole Creation. His Body's but a Poor Stuffing of a Rich Case, like Bran to a Lady's Pincushion; that when the outside is stript off, there remains nothing that's Valuable. His Head is a Fool's Egg, which lies hid in a Nest of Hair; His Brains are the Yolk which Conceit has Addled. He's a strolling Assistant to Drapers and Taylors, showing every other Day a New Pattern, and a New Fashion. He's a Walking Argument against Immortality; For no Man by his Actions, or his Talk can find he has more Soul than a Goose. He's a very Troublesome Guest in a Tavern; and must have good Wine chang'd three or four Times till they bring him the worst in the Cellar, before he'll like it. His Conversation is as intolerable as a young Councel's in Term Time. Talking as much of his Mistresses, as the other does of his Motions; and will have the most Words, tho' all he says is nothing. He's a Bubble to all he deals with, even to his Periwig Maker; and hates the sordid Rascal that won't Flatter him. He scorns to condescend so low, as to speak of any Person beneath the dignity of a Noble man; the Duke of such a Place, and my Lord such one, are his common Cronies, from whom he knows all the Secrets of the Court, but dares not impart 'em to his best Friends, because the Duke enjoyn'd him to Secrecie. He is always furnish'd with new Jests from the last New Play, which he most commonly spoiles with repeating. His Watch he compares with every Sun Dial, Swears it corrects the Sun; and plucks it out so frequently in Company, that his Fingers go oftener in a Day to his Fob, than they do to his Mouth, spending more time every Week in showing the Rarity of the Work, than the Man did in making on't; being as forward to tell the Price without desiring, as he is to tell you the Hour without asking; he is a constant Visitor of a Coffee house, where he Cons over the News Papers with much indifference; Reading only for Fashion's sake and not for Information. He's commonly of a small standing at one of the Universities, tho' all he has learnt there, is to Know how many Taverns there are in the Town, and what Vintner has the handsom'st Wife.... He's a Coward amongst Brave men, and a Brave fellow among Cowards; a Fool amongst Wise men, and a Wit in Fool's company.'
Pretty hard hitting; but it is borne out on all hands. Try another description:[171] 'His first Care is his Dress, the next his Body; and in the uniting these Two lies his Soul and Faculties. His business is in the Side Box, the Stage, and the Drawing Room; his Discourse consists of Dress, Equipage, and the Ladies, and his extream Politeness in writing Billet deux; which he never fails to shew in all Companies. The nice Management of his Italian Snuff box, and the affected Screw of his Body, makes up a great Part of his Conversation, and the Pains he takes to recommend himself, wou'd set Heraclitus a Laughing. He's perpetually Laughing to shew his white Teeth, and is never serious but with his Taylor. His whole Design is bent upon a Fortune, which if he gets, the Coach and Equipage is still supported; if not his fine Cloaths and he prove stale together, and he is commonly buried ere he dies in a Gaol, or the Country, two places equally disagreeable to a Man of his Complexion.'