Night Scene in a Fifteenth-century Inn.
on the hoop of the vessel, they used to drink up the ale as it ran out without intermission (in Staffordshire now called stunning a barrel of ale) and then they were cock-on-hoop (i.e., at the height of mirth and jolity).” Old Heywood seems to support the latter derivation in the lines:—
He maketh havok and setteth the cock on hoope; He is so lavies, the stooke beginneth to droope.
From the painted effigy to the painted signboard was an easy step, and then began the signboard’s palmy days. If mine host were a man of small imagination, he might still be content with a bush or with the arms of some local magnate, but if he were a man of fancy, his imagination, in quest of a worthy sign, might revel unrestrained through the highways and byways of history ancient and modern, political and natural. The sign was and is usually painted on a board and suspended from the front of the house, or from a sign-post set up in the street in front of the door. In country places signboard ambition went so far as to erect a kind of triumphal arch in front of the house, from the centre of which the signboard swung.
A good example of a signboard stretching across a street may be seen in the illustration of the Black Boy Inn, Chelmsford, which is taken from a print by Ryland of the date 1770. {219}
Even as early as the reign of Henry V. the eagerness of the ale-house keepers to outstrip one another in the size of their signboards had become obnoxious to the authorities. The Liber Albus contains a direction to the Wardmotes of the City of London, to make inquiry whether the ale-stake of any tavern “is longer or extends further than ordinary,” and the Common Council ordained that “whereas the ale-stakes projecting in front of taverns in Chepe, and elsewhere in the said City, extend too far over the King’s highways, to the impeding of riders and others, and by reason of their excessive weight, to the great deterioration of the houses to which they are fixed,” therefore the taverners are ordered that on pain of 40s. fine they shall not have a stake, bearing a sign or leaves extending over the King’s highway, of greater length than seven feet at most.
The restriction on the length of the projecting signboards seems to have been little regarded. Charles I., in his Charter to the City of London, granted on his accession to the throne, permits the use of suspended signs, and the Charter contains no mention of any restriction {220} as to size. The nuisance caused by the extravagant size of signboards at length became very great, and in the reign of Charles II. it was ordained that “in all the streets no signboard shall hang across, but that the sign shall be fixed against the balconies or some convenient part of the side of the house.” Even this specific regulation seems to have been generally disregarded, as we learn from an account written in 1719, by Misson, a French traveller. Speaking of the signs, he says: “At London, they are commonly very large, and jut 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 adorned with carving and gilding; and there are several that, with the branches of iron which support them, cost above a hundred guineas. . . . . Out of London, and particularly in villages, the signs of inns are suspended in the middle of a great wooden portal, which may be looked upon as a kind of triumphal arch to the honour of Bacchus.”
About the middle of last century various Acts of Parliament were passed, the result of which was that London signboards have from that time been fixed to the face of the house, and are no longer allowed to project over the street.