They still carried on the sport of bull and bear baiting, and on one occasion they baited a savage horse to death. That is, they attempted it, but he drove off all the dogs, and the people insisting on his death, they stabbed him to death. The King issued two patents for theatres, one to Henry Killigrew, at Drury Lane, whose company called themselves The King's Servants; the other to Sir William Davenant, of Dorset Gardens, whose company was The Duke's Servants. There were still some notable superstitions left. These are illustrated by the remedies advertised for the plague and other diseases. A spider, for instance, placed in a nutshell and wrapped in silk will cure ague. They believed in the malignant influence of the planets. One evening at a dancing house half a dozen boys and girls were taken suddenly ill. Probably they had swallowed some poisonous stuff. They were supposed to be planet-struck. And, of course, they believed in astrology and in chiromancy, the latter of which has again come into fashion.
Saturday was the day of duns. Creditors then went about collecting their money. In the autumn the merchants rode out into the country and looked after their country customers.
The social fabric of the time cannot be understood without remembering that certain nominal distinctions of our generation were then real things, and gave a man consideration. Thus, there were no peers left living in the City. But there were a few baronets and many knights. After them in order came esquires, gentlemen, and commoners. Those were entitled to the title of esquire who were gentlemen of good estate, not otherwise dignified, counsellors-at-law, physicians and holders of the King's commission. Everybody remembers Pepys's delight at being for the first time, then newly made Secretary to the Admiralty, addressed as esquire, and his irrepressible pride at being followed into church by a page. A younger brother could call himself a gentleman, and this, I take it, whether he was in trade or not. About this time, however, younger sons began leaving off going to the City and embarking in trade, and that separation of the aristocracy from the trade of the country, which made the former a distinct caste and has lasted almost until the present day, first began. It is now, however, so far as one can perceive the signs of the times, fast disappearing. The younger son, in fact, began to enter the army, the navy, or the Church. From the middle of the seventeenth century till the battle of Waterloo, war in Europe was almost continuous. A gentleman could offer his sword anywhere and was accepted. There were English gentlemen in the service of Austria, Russia, Sweden—even in that of France or Spain. Unfortunately, however, in this country we generally had need of all the gentlemen we could find to command our own armies. The title of gentleman was also conceded to attorneys, notaries, proctors, and other lesser degrees of the law; merchants, surgeons, tradesmen, authors, artists, architects, and the like, had then, and have now, no rank of any kind in consideration of their employments.
Tea, which at the Restoration was quite beyond the means of private persons, became rapidly cheaper and in daily use among the better class in London, though not in the country. Thus, in Congreve's "Way of the World," Mrs. Millamant claims to be "Sole Empress of my tea-table." Her lover readily consents to her drinking tea if she agrees to a stipulation which shows that the love of tea was as yet more fashionable than real, since it could be combined with that of strong drinks. He says that he must banish from her table "foreign forces, auxiliaries to the tea-table, such as orange brandy, aniseed, cinnamon, citron, and Barbadoes water, together with ratafia and the most noble spirit of clary."
The favorite places of resort in the City were the galleries of the Royal Exchange, filled with shops for the sale of gloves, ribbons, laces, fans, scent, and such things. The shops were kept by young women who, like the modern bar-maid, added the attraction of a pretty face to the beauty of their wares. The piazza of Covent Garden was another favorite place, but this, with Spring Gardens, Vauxhall, was outside the City. The old desecration of Paul's was to a great extent stopped by the erection of the West Porch, designed for those who met here for purposes of business.
OLD ST. PAUL'S, WITH THE PORCH OF INIGO JONES
Coffee-houses were first set up at this time, and at once became indispensable to the citizens, who before had had no other place of evening resort than the tavern. The City houses were "Dick's" and the "Rainbow," in Fleet Street; "Tom's," of Birchin Lane (not to speak of the more classic "Tom's," of Covent Garden). Nearly all the old inns of the City have now been destroyed. Fifty years ago many were still standing, with their galleries and their open courts. Such were the "Bell," of Warwick Lane; the "Belle Sauvage," of Ludgate Hill; the "Blossom," Laurence Lane; the "Black Lion," Whitefriars Street; the "Four Swans," Bishopsgate Street; the "Saracen's Head," Friday Street, and many others.
It is, I suppose, pretty clear that the songs collected by Tom d'Urfey are a fair representation of the delectable and edifying ditties sung in taverns, and when the society was "mixed." It would be easy to preach against the wickedness of the times which could permit the singing of such songs, but in reality they are no worse than the songs of the preceding generation, to which, indeed, many of them belong. And, besides, it does not appear that the better sort of people regaled themselves with this kind of song at all, and even in this collection there are a great many which are really beautiful. The following pretty lines are taken almost at random from one of the volumes of the Pills to Purge Melancholy. They are called a "Description of Chloris:"