HE use of signs as a means of distinguishing different houses of business, is a custom which has come down to us from times of great antiquity. Nevertheless, it is not at all difficult to discover the reasons which first led to their being employed. In days when only an infinitesimally small proportion of the population could read, it would obviously have been absurd for a tradesman to have inscribed above his door his name and occupation, or the number of his house, as is now done. Such inscriptions as “Sutton & Sons, Seedsmen,” or “Pears & Co., Soapmakers,” would then have been quite useless as a means of distinguishing the particular houses that bore them; but, if each dealer displayed conspicuously before his place of business a painted representation of the wares he sold, the arms of the Trade-Guild to which he belonged, or those of his landlord or patron, or some other device by which his house might be known, there would be little probability of mistake. If the sign thus displayed indicated the nature of the wares sold within, it would answer a double purpose. Signs, too, would be especially useful in distinguishing different establishments in times when many members of the same craft resided, as they used formerly to do, in one street or district. Although this habit has now largely disappeared in England, in the cities of the East each trade is still chiefly confined to its own special quarter.
In considering the subject of how signs originally came into use, it must never be forgotten that, in bygone times, they were not confined, as now, almost exclusively to “public-houses.” We have still, among others, the sign of the Pole for a barber, the Rod and Fish for a tackle-dealer, the Black Boy for a tobacconist, the Golden Balls for a pawnbroker; but formerly the proprietor of nearly every house of business, and even of private residences, displayed his own particular sign, just as the keepers of inns and taverns do now. For instance, an examination of the title-page of almost any book, published a couple of centuries or so ago, will show an imprint something like the following:—“Printed for Timothy Childe at the White Hart in St. Paul’s Churchyard; and for Thos. Varnam and John Osborn at the Oxford Arms in Lombard St. MDCCXII.” Again, Sir Richard Baker’s quaint Chronicles of the Kings of England was printed in 1684, “for H. Sawbridge at the Bible on Ludgate Hill, B. Tooke at the Ship in St. Paul’s Churchyard, and T. Sawbridge at the Three Flower-de-Luces in Little Brittain.” As a further example of the use of signs in former times by booksellers, in common with other tradesmen, it may be mentioned that, according to a writer in Frazer’s Magazine (1845, vol. xxxii. p. 676)—
“The first edition of Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis, and the first edition of his Rape of Lucrece, were ‘sold by John Harrison at the sign of the White Greyhound in Saint Paul’s Churchyard;’ and the first edition of Shepheard’s Kalender by ‘Hugh Singleton, dwelling at the Golden Tun, in Creed Lane, near unto Ludgate.’ The first edition of The Merry Wives of Windsor was sold at the Flower de Leuse and Crowne in St. Paul’s Churchyard; the first edition of the Midsummer Night’s Dream at the White Hart in Fleet Street; the first edition of the Merchant of Venice at the Green Dragon in St. Paul’s Churchyard; the first edition of Richard III. at the Angel, and the first edition of Richard II. at the Fox, both in St. Paul’s Churchyard; the first edition of Henry V. was sold at the Cat and Parrots in Cornhill; the first edition of Lear at the Pied Bull in St. Paul’s Churchyard; and the first edition of Othello ‘at the Eagle and Child in Britain’s Bourse’—i.e., the New Exchange.”
Were announcements similar to these to appear on any modern book, it would certainly give many persons the impression that the work had been printed at a “public-house.” Again, on the cheques, and over the door of Messrs. Hoare, bankers, of Fleet Street, may still be seen a representation of the Leather Bottle which formed their sign in Cheapside at least as long ago as the year 1677. In Paris, to the present day, sellers of “bois et charbons” (wood and charcoal or coals) invariably have the fronts of their establishments, facing the street, painted in a manner intended to convey the impression that the house is built of rough logs of wood. This device, although not displayed upon a sign-board, forms, in every respect, a true trade-sign. In all parts of France, signs still retain much more of their ancient glory than they do in England. Though not common in the newer and more fashionable streets and boulevards, they are abundant in the older quarters of Paris, Rouen, and other large towns. They are much oftener pictorial or graven than with us, and it is notable that they are used almost, or quite, as frequently by shopkeepers and other tradesmen as by the keepers of wine-shops, inns, and taverns. The sign, too, very often represents the wares sold within.
Nowadays, however, the old custom of displaying a sign finds favour with very few English tradesmen, except the keepers of inns and taverns; and even they have allowed the custom to sink to such depths of degradation that the great majority of sign-boards now bear only the name of the house in print: consequently the reason which led originally to the use of signs—the necessity for pictorial representation when few could read—is no longer obvious. It may be truly said that the great spread of education among all classes during the present century has given a death-blow alike to the use of signs in trade and to the art of the sign-painter. This, to be sure, is hardly a matter to call for regret on its own account. Nevertheless, the great decline in the use of the old-fashioned pictorial sign-board is to be regretted for many reasons. The signs which our forefathers made use of have interwoven themselves with our whole domestic, and even, to some extent, with our political, history. In losing them we are losing one of the well-known landmarks of the past. Sign-boards of the real old sort have about them an amount of interest which is sufficient to surprise those who care to take trouble in studying them. Dr. Brewer very truly says, in his Dictionary of Phrase and Fable:—“Much of a nation’s history, and more of its manners and feelings, may be gleaned from its public-house signs.” The sign-boards themselves tell us (as has already been pointed out) of the habit our forefathers had of crowding together in one street or district all those who were of a like occupation or profession. They tell us also of the deep ignorance of the masses of the people in days when sign-boards were a necessity. And when it is remembered that it was only so lately as the beginning of the present century that the knowledge of reading and writing became sufficiently widespread to allow the numbering of houses to come into general use as a means of distinguishing one house from another, it will be easily seen that the sign-boards of (say) two centuries ago played a very important, and even an essential, part in the commercial world of those days.
But a study of the various devices that appear even on modern sign-boards will teach us still more of the doings of our ancestors. They tell us of the wares our forefathers made and dealt in, of the superstitious beliefs they held, of the party strifes in which they engaged, and of the great titled families which had so large a share in the making of English history—in short, the devices seen, even on modern sign-boards, afford, to those who can and care to read them, no mean picture both of mediæval and more modern times. It was well remarked in an early number of the Gentleman’s Magazine (1738, vol. viii. p. 526), that “The People of England are a nation of Politicians, from the First Minister down to the cobbler, and peculiarly remarkable for hanging out their principles upon their sign-posts.” Some of our modern Essex signs, for instance, are relics (as will be more clearly pointed out hereafter) of what were once staple industries in the county, though now all but unknown in it. Thus the signs of the Woolpack (p. 79), the Shears (p. 41), and the Golden Fleece (p. 78) are all mementoes of the time when the woollen trade flourished in Essex. The sign of the Hop-poles (p. 111) reminds us of the time when hop-growing formed a considerable industry in the county. Our various Blue Boars (p. 68) speak to us of the noble and once mighty Essex family of De Vere, which formerly wielded a great power in England. These are but a few instances. Others will occur to every one who peruses the following pages. At the present day, too, there is scarcely a village in the county that has not some street, square, or lane named after an inn-sign, as, for instance, Sun Street, Eagle Lane, Swan Street, Falcon Square, Lion Walk, Greyhound Lane, &c. In London, or Paris, the connection is still closer. Surely, then, although signs are no longer of great or urgent importance to us in the daily routine of our ordinary business life, an inquiry into their past history will be a matter of much interest, especially as comparatively little has hitherto been written about them.
Nevertheless, although it is certain that (as has been stated) not a few of our present signs have been derived from emblems of industries now decayed and the armorial bearings of ancient county families, the fact cannot be overlooked that in a great many cases these particular signs, as now displayed by particular houses, have only very recently come into use. That is to say, they are only indirectly derived from the sources named, having been selected because, perhaps, some neighbouring and really ancient inn (which derived its sign directly) was known to have long borne that sign. There can be no doubt (as Mr. H. W. King writes) that—
“The very large majority of country inns are comparatively modern, both as to signs and sites. Elsewhere, as here [Leigh], I suspect they have been moved and removed again and again—old signs shifted, and often changed altogether. I remember the late Mr. Edward Woodard, of Billericay, telling me some years ago that the inns of that town had been changed again and again: that is, what are now private residences were formerly inns, and vice versa. This he knew from the evidence of conveyances which had passed through his hands professionally. I have no doubt that every town would show the same facts if only one could get sufficient evidence. At the same time, of course, some inns are very old indeed, both as to sites and signs.”
The great decay in the use of inn-signs of the real old sort has, it is much to be feared, now gone too far to be arrested, however much it may be regretted. In Essex, probably not five per cent. of our sign-boards are now pictorial. Even in the remote and sleepy little town of Thaxted very few of the inns now possess pictorial signs. Here and there, however, throughout the county one may still come across a few such, and several excellent examples will be hereafter alluded to.
Probably no better idea can now be obtained in Essex of an old-fashioned thoroughfare than in the broad High Street at Epping. From one point no less than ten sign-boards may be seen, all swinging over the pavement in the ancient style. Only one, however, the White Lion, is now pictorial. The number of inns in Grays, too, is very large. It has been stated in print that “for its size, it contains more than any other town in England.” In the narrow Tindal Street at Chelmsford the sign-boards still swing across the street in the old style, and are hung upon the old supports. The best example is that which supports the sign of the Spotted Dog. Witham has many inns, nearly all of which have their sign-boards hanging over the pavement, but neither they nor their supports are of much interest. Colchester has hardly such a thing as a projecting sign-board, let alone pictorial signs. Castle Hedingham, for its size, probably has more pictorial signs than any other Essex town, the Bell, the Crown, the Three Crowns, and the Rising Sun being all thus represented. Except the sign-iron of the Six Bells (p. 168), Dunmow contains but little of sign-board interest. The only pictorial sign-board in Ongar is that of the Cock. Several signs and sign-irons in Bardfield are hereafter noticed (pp. 170 and 169). In the High Street at Romford are many very old inns, but their signs are all script. At Leigh there are many inns, the most ancient of which, in the opinion of Mr. H. W. King, are the Crown and the Hamboro’ Merchants’ Arms, though the George was originally the more important.