LETTICE LITTLETRUST AND A SIMPLE SIMON.
WELLINGBOROUGH, 14th century.
Ale, no more than other things, could be kept out of church. A carving at Wellingborough, Northamptonshire, shews us an interview between a would-be customer on the one part and an ale-wife on the other part. There is, in a list of imaginary names in an epilogue or “gagging” summons to a miracle play, mention of one Letyce Lytyltrust, whom surely we see above. Evidently the man is better known than trusted, and while a generous supply of the desired refreshment is “on reserve” in a dear old jug, some intimation has been made that cash is required; he, like one Simon on a similar occasion, has not a penny, and with one hand dipped into his empty pocket, he scratches his head with the other. His good-natured perplexity contrasts well with the indifferent tradeswoman-like air of the ale-wife, who while she rests the jug upon a bench, does not relinquish the handle. He is saying to himself, “Nay, marry, an I wanted a cup o’ ale aforetime I was ever served. A thirsty morn is this. I know not what to say to t’ jade;” while she is muttering, “An he wipe off the chalk ahint the door even, he might drink and welcome, sorry rogue tho’ he be. But no use to cry pay when t’ barrel be empty.”
At Edgeware in 1558, an innkeeper, was fined for selling a pint and a half of ale at an exorbitant price, namely, one penny. A quart was everywhere the proper quantity, and that of the strongest; small ale sold at one penny for two quarts. With regard to the then higher value of money, however, the prices may be considered to be about the same as at present, and the same may be said of many commodities which appear in records at low figures.
Of an earlier date is the tapster of the initial block, from Ludlow, who furnishes a comfortable idea of a congenial, and to judge from his pouch, a profitable occupation. It is to be presumed the smallness of the barrel as compared with that of the jug—probably of copper, and dazzlingly bright—was the artist’s means of getting its full outline within the picture, and not an indication of the relations of supply and demand.
Alas for the final fate of the dishonest woman who could cheat men in the important matter of ale! At Ludlow we are shewn such a one, stripped of all but the head dress and necklace of her vanity, and carried ignominiously and indecorously to Hell’s Mouth on the shoulders of a stalwart demon (whose head is supplied in the block). In her hand, and partaking of her own reverse, she bears the hooped tankard with which she defrauded her customers. It is the measure of her woe. The demon thus loaded with mischief is met by another, armed with the bagpipes. With hilarious air and fiendish grin he welcomes the latest addition to the collection of evil-doers within. To the right are the usual gaping jaws of Hell’s Mouth, into which are disappearing two nude females, who, we may suppose, are other ale-wifes not more meritorious than the lady of the horned head dress. To the left is the Recording Imp.
THE END OF THE ALE-WIFE, LUDLOW.
