All About Coffee

by William H. Ukers

The text and the arrangement of the body of the pamphlet are as follows:

The Character of a Coffee-House

THE DERIVATION OF
A COFFEE-HOUSE
A Coffee-house, the learned hold
It is a place where Coffee's sold;
This derivation cannot fail us,
For where Ale's vended, that's an Ale-house.
This being granted to be true,
'Tis meet that next the Signs we shew
Both where and how to find this house
Where men such cordial broth carowse.
And if Culpepper woon some glory
In turning the Dispensatory
From Latin into English; then
Why should not all good English men
Give him much thanks who shews a cure
For all diseases men endure?
SIGNS: HOW TO
FIND IT OUT
As you along the streets do trudge,
To take the pains you must not grudge,
To view the Posts or Broomsticks where
The Signs of Liquors hanged are.
And if you see the great Morat
With Shash on's head instead of hat,
Or any Sultan in his dress,
Or picture of a Sultaness,
Or John's admir'd curled pate,
Or th' great Mogul in's Chair of State,
Or Constantine the Grecian,
Who fourteen years was th' onely man
That made Coffee for th' great Bashaw,
Although the man he never saw;
Or if you see a Coffee-cup
Fil'd from a Turkish pot, hung up
Within the clouds, and round it Pipes,
Wax Candles, Stoppers, these are types
And certain signs (with many more
Would be too long to write them 'ore,)
Which plainly do Spectators tell
That in that house they Coffee sell.
Some wiser than the rest (no doubt,)
Say they can by the smell find't out;
In at a door (say they,) but thrust
Your Nose, and if you scent burnt Crust,
Be sure there's Coffee sold that's good,
For so by most 'tis understood.
Now being enter'd, there's no needing
Of complements or gentile breeding,
For you may seat you any where,
There's no respect of persons there;
Then comes the Coffee-man to greet you,
With welcome Sir, let me entreat you,
To tell me what you'l please to have,
For I'm your humble, humble slave;
But if you ask, what good does Coffee?
He'l answer, Sir, don't think I scoff yee,
If I affirm there's no disease
Men have that drink it but find ease.
THE VERTUES
OF COFFEE
Look, there's a man who takes the steem
In at his Nose, has an extreme
Worm in his pate, and giddiness,
Ask him and he will say no less.
There sitteth one whose Droptick belly
Was hard as flint, now's soft as jelly.
There stands another holds his head
'Ore th' Coffee-pot, was almost dead
Even now with Rhume; ask him hee'l say
That all his Rhum's now past away.
See, there's a man sits now demure
And sober, was within this hour
Quite drunk, and comes here frequently,
For 'tis his daily Malady,
More, it has such reviving power
'Twill keep a man awake an houre,
Nay, make his eyes wide open stare
Both Sermon time and all the prayer.
Sir, should I tell you all the rest
O' th' cures 't has done, two hours at least
In numb'ring them I needs must spend,
Scarce able then to make an end.
Besides these vertues that's therein.
For any kind of Medicine,
The Commonwealth-Kingdom I'd say,
Has mighty reason for to pray
That still Arabia may produce
Enough of Berry for it's use:
For't has such strange magnetick force,
That it draws after't great concourse
Of all degrees of persons, even
From high to low, from morn till even;
Especially the sober Party,
And News-mongers do drink't most hearty
Here you'r not thrust into a Box
As Taverns do to catch the Fox,
But as from th' top of Pauls high steeple,
Th' whole City's view'd, even so all people
May here be seen; no secrets are
At th' Court for Peace, or th' Camp for War,
But straight they'r here disclos'd and known;
Men in this Age so wise are grown.
Now (Sir) what profit may accrew
By this, to all good men, judge you.
With that he's loudly call'd upon
For Coffee, and then whip he's gone.
THE COMPANY
Here at a Table sits (perplext)
A griping Usurer, and next
To him a gallant Furioso,
Then nigh to him a Virtuoso;
A Player then (full fine) sits down,
And close to him a Country Clown.
O' th' other side sits some Pragmatick,
And next to him some sly Phanatick.
THE SEVERAL
LIQUORS
The gallant he for Tea doth call,
The Usurer for nought at all.
The Pragmatick he doth intreat
That they will fill him some Beau-cheat,
The Virtuoso he cries hand me
Some Coffee mixt with Sugar-candy.
Phanaticus (at last) says come,
Bring me some Aromaticum.
The Player bawls for Chocolate,
All which the Bumpkin wond'ring at,
Cries, ho, my Masters, what d' ye speak,
D' ye call for drink in Heathen Greek?
Give me some good old Ale or Beer,
Or else I will not drink, I swear.
Then having charg'd their Pipes around.
THEIR DISCOURSE
They silence break; First the profound
And sage Phanatique, Sirs what news?
Troth says the Us'rer I ne'r use
To tip my tongue with such discourse,
'Twere news to know how to disburse
A summ of mony (makes me sad)
To get ought by't, times are so bad.
The other answers, truly Sir
You speak but truth, for I'le aver
They ne'r were worse; did you not hear
What prodigies did late appear
At Norwich, Ipswich, Grantham, Gotam?
And though prophane ones do not not'em,
Yet we—Here th' Virtuoso stops
The current of his speech, with hopes
Quoth he, you will not tak'd amiss,
I say all's lies that's news like this,
For I have Factors all about
The Realm, so that no Stars peep out
That are unusual, much less these
Strange and unheard-of prodigies
You would relate, but they are tost
To me in letters by first Post.
At which the Furioso swears
Such chat as this offends his ears
It rather doth become this Age
To talk of bloodshed, fury, rage,
And t' drink stout healths in brim-fill'd Nogans.
To th' downfall of the Hogan Mogans.
With that the Player doffs his Bonnet,
And tunes his voice as if a Sonnet
Were to be sung; then gently says,
O what delight there is in Plays!
Sure if we were but all in Peace,
This noise of Wars and News would cease;
All sorts of people then would club
Their pence to see a Play that's good.
You'l wonder all this while (perhaps)
The Curioso holds his chaps.
But he doth in his thoughts devise,
How to the rest he may seem wise;
Yet able longer not to hold,
His tedious tale too must be told,
And thus begins, Sirs unto me
It reason seems that liberty
Of speech and words should be allow'd
Where men of differing judgements croud,
And that's a Coffee-house, for where
Should men discourse so free as there?
Coffee and Commonwealth begin
Both with one letter, both came in
Together for a Reformation,
To make's a free and sober Nation.
But now—With that Phanaticus
Gives him a nod, and speaks him thus,
Hold brother, I know your intent,
That's no dispute convenient
For this same place, truths seldome find
Acceptance here, they'r more confin'd
To Taverns and to Ale-house liquor,
Where men do vent their minds more quicker
If that may for a truth but pass
What's said, In vino veritas.
With that up starts the Country Clown,
And stares about with threatening frown.
As if he would even eat them all up.
Then bids the boy run quick and call up,
A Constable, for he has reason
To fear their Latin may be treason
But straight they all call what's to pay,
Lay't down, and march each several way.
THE COMPANY
At th' other table sits a Knight,
And here a grave old man ore right
Against his worship, then perhaps
That by and by a Drawer claps
His bum close by them, there down squats
A dealer in old shoes and hats;
And here withouten any panick
Fear, dread or care a bold Mechanick.
HEIR DISCOURSE
The Knight (because he's so) he prates
Of matters far beyond their pates.
The grave old man he makes a bustle,
And his wise sentence in must justle.
Up starts th' Apprentice boy and he
Says boldly so and so't must be.
The dealer in old shoes to utter
His saying too makes no small sputter.
Then comes the pert mechanick blade,
And contradicts what all have said.
***
There by the fier-side doth sit,
One freezing in an Ague fit.
Another poking in't with th' tongs,
Still ready to cough up his lungs
Here sitteth one that's melancolick,
And there one singing in a frolick.
Each one hath such a prety gesture,
At Smithfield fair would yield a tester.
Boy reach a pipe cries he that shakes,
The songster no Tobacco takes,
Says he who coughs, nor do I smoak,
Then Monsieur Mopus turns his cloak
Off from his face, and with a grave
Majestick beck his pipe doth crave.
They load their guns and fall a smoaking
Whilst he who coughs sits by a choaking,
Till he no longer can abide.
And so removes from th' fier side.
Now all this while none calls to drink,
Which makes the Coffee boy to think
Much they his pots should so enclose,
He cannot pass but tread on toes.
With that as he the Nectar fills
From pot to pot, some on't he spills
Upon the Songster. Oh cries he.
Pox, what dost do? thou'st burnt my knee;
No says the boy, (to make a bald
And blind excuse.) Sir 'twill not scald.
With that the man lends him a cuff
O' th' ear, and whips away in snuff.
The other two, their pipes being out,
Says Monsieur Mopus I much doubt
My friend I wait for will not come,
But if he do, say I'm gone home.
Then says the Aguish man I must come
According to my wonted custome,
To give ye' a visit, although now
I dare not drink, and so adieu.
The boy replies, O Sir, however
You'r very welcome, we do never
Our Candles, Pipes or Fier grutch
To daily customers and such,
They'r Company (without expence,)
For that's sufficient recompence.
Here at a table all alone,
Sits (studying) a spruce youngster, (one
Who doth conceipt himself fully witty,
And's counted one o' th' wits o' th' City,)
Till by him (with a stately grace,)
A Spanish Don himself doth place.
Then (cap in hand) a brisk Monsieur
He takes his seat, and crowds as near
As possibly that he can come.
Then next a Dutchman takes his room.
The Wits glib tongue begins to chatter,
Though't utters more of noise than matter,
Yet 'cause they seem to mind his words,
His lungs more battle still affords
At last says he to Don, I trow
You understand me? Sennor no
Says th' other. Here the Wit doth pause
A little while, then opes his jaws,
And says to Monsieur, you enjoy
Our tongue I hope? Non par ma foy,
Replies the Frenchman: nor you, Sir?
Says he to th' Dutchman, Neen mynheer,
With that he's gone, and cries, why sho'd
He stay where wit's not understood?
There in a place of his own chusing
(Alone) some lover sits a musing,
With arms across, and's eyes up lift,
As if he were of sence bereft.
Till sometimes to himself he's speaking,
Then sighs as if his heart were breaking.
Here in a corner sits a Phrantick,
And there stands by a frisking Antick,
Of all sorts some and all conditions
Even Vintners, Surgeons and Physicians.
The blind, the deaf, and aged cripple
Do here resort and Coffee tipple.
Now here (perhaps) you may expect
My Muse some trophies should erect
In high flown verse, for to set forth
The noble praises of its worth.
Truth is, old Poets beat their brains
To find out high and lofty strains
To praise the (now too frequent) use
Of the bewitching grapes strong juice,
Some have strain'd hard for to exalt
The liquor of our English Mault
Nay Don has almost crackt his nodle
Enough t'applaud his Caaco Caudle.
The Germans Mum, Teag's Usquebagh,
(Made him so well defend Tredagh,)
Metheglin, which the Brittains tope,
Hot Brandy wine, the Hogans hope.
Stout Meade which makes the Russ to laugh,
Spic'd Punch (in bowls) the Indians quaff.
All these have had their pens to raise
Them Monuments of lasting praise,
Onely poor Coffee seems to me
No subject fit for Poetry
At least 'tis one that none of mine is,
So I do wave 't, and here write—
FINIS.

News from the Coffe House; in which is shewn their several sorts of Passions appeared in 1667. It was reprinted in 1672 as The Coffee House or News-mongers' Hall.

Several stanzas from these broadsides have been much quoted. They serve to throw additional light upon the manners of the time, and upon the kind of conversation met with in any well frequented coffee house of the seventeenth century, particularly under the Stuarts. They are finely descriptive of the company characteristics of the early coffee houses. The fifth stanza of the edition of 1667, inimical to the French, was omitted when the broadside was amended and reprinted in 1672, the year that England joined with France and again declared war on the Dutch. The following verses with explanatory notes are from Timbs:

News from the Coffe House
You that delight in Wit and Mirth,
And long to hear such News,
As comes from all Parts of the Earth,
Dutch, Danes, and Turks, and Jews,
I'le send yee to a Rendezvouz,
Where it is smoaking new;
Go hear it at a Coffe-house,
It cannot but be true.
There Battles and Sea-Fights are Fought,
And bloudy Plots display'd;
They know more Things then ere was thought
Or ever was betray'd:
No Money in the Minting-house
Is halfe so Bright and New;
And comming from a Coffe-house
It cannot but be true.
Before the Navyes fall to Work,
They know who shall be Winner;
They there can tell ye what the Turk
Last Sunday had to Dinner;
Who last did Cut Du Ruitters[75] Corns,
Amongst his jovial Crew;
Or Who first gave the Devil Horns,
Which cannot but be true.
A Fisherman did boldly tell,
And strongly did avouch,
He Caught a Shoal of Mackarel,
That Parley'd all in Dutch,
And cry'd out Yaw, yaw, yaw Myne Here;
But as the Draught they Drew
They Stunck for fear, that Monck[76] was there,
Which cannot but be true.
***
There's nothing done in all the World,
From Monarch to the Mouse
But every Day or Night 'tis hurld
Into the Coffe-house.
What Lillie[77] or what Booker[78] can
By Art, not bring about,
At Coffe-house you'l find a Man,
Can quickly find it out.
They know who shall in Times to come,
Be either made, or undone,
From great St. Peters street in Rome,
To Turnbull-street[79] in London;
***
They know all that is Good, or Hurt,
To Dam ye, or to Save ye;
There is the Colledge, and the Court,
The Country, Camp and Navie;
So great a Universitie,
I think there ne're was any;
In which you may a Schoolar be
For spending of a Penny.
***
Here Men do talk of every Thing,
With large and liberal Lungs,
Like Women at a Gossiping,
With double tyre of Tongues;
They'l give a Broad-side presently,
Soon as you are in view,
With Stories that, you'l wonder at,
Which they will swear are true.
The Drinking there of Chockalat,
Can make a Fool a Sophie:
'Tis thought the Turkish Mahomet
Was first Inspir'd with Coffe,
By which his Powers did Over-flow
The Land of Palestine:
Then let us to, the Coffe-house go,
'Tis Cheaper farr then Wine.
You shall know there, what Fashions are;
How Perrywiggs are Curl'd;
And for a Penny you shall heare,
All Novells in the World.
Both Old and Young, and Great and Small,
And Rich, and Poore, you'l see;
Therefore let's to the Coffe All,
Come All away with Mee.
Finis.

Robert Morton made a contribution to the controversy in Lines Appended to the Nature, Quality and Most Excellent Vertues of Coffee in 1670.

There was published in 1672 A Broad-side Against Coffee, or the Marriage of the Turk, verses that attained considerable fame because of their picturesque invective. They also stressed the fact that Pasqua Rosées partner was a coachman, and imitated the broken English of the Ragusan youth: