All About Coffee Part 110

"Then, madam, permit me to bring perfection to the flower!"

Again, when Mrs. Siddons, the great English tragedienne, called upon him in his chambers and the servant did not promptly bring her a chair, his quick wit made capital of the incident by the remark:

"You see, madam, wherever you go there are no seats to be had!"

John Thomas Smith in his _Antiquarian Rambles in the Streets of London_ (1846), tells an amusing incident in the life of Sir George Etherege, the playright, who having run up a bill at Locket's ordinary, a coffee house much frequented by dramatists of the period, and finding himself unable to pay, began to absent himself from the place. Mrs. Locket thereupon sent a man to dun and to threaten him with prosecution if he did not pay. Sir George sent back word that if she stirred a step in the matter he would kiss her. On receiving this answer, the good lady, much exasperated, called for her hood and scarf, and told her husband, who interposed, that "she would see if there was any fellow alive who would have the impudence--" "Prithee! my dear, don't be so rash," said her husband; "there is no telling what a man may do in his pa.s.sion."

Richard Savage, the English poet and friend of Johnson, who included him in his famous _Lives of the Poets_, was arrested for the murder of James Sinclair after a drunken brawl in Robinson's coffee house in 1727. He was found guilty, but narrowly escaped the death penalty by the intercession of the countess of Hertford. A feature of his trial was the extraordinary charge to the jury of Judge Page, who for his hard words and his love of hanging, is d.a.m.ned to everlasting fame in the verse of Pope. The charge was:

Gentlemen of the jury! You are to consider that Mr. Savage is a very great man, a much greater man than you or I, gentlemen of the jury; that he wears very fine clothes, much finer than you or I, gentlemen of the jury; that he has an abundance of money in his pocket, much more money than you or I, gentlemen of the jury; but, gentlemen of the jury, is it not a very hard case, gentlemen of the jury, that Mr. Savage should therefore kill you or me, gentlemen of the jury?

Albert V. Lally[357] has made a collection of old coffee-house anecdotes. Among them are the following:

The story is told of how Sir Richard Steele in b.u.t.ton's Coffee House was once made the umpire in an amusing difference between two unnamed disputants. These two were arguing about religion, when one of them said: "I wonder, sir, you should talk of religion, when I'll hold you five guineas you can't say the Lord's prayer."

"Done," said the other, "and Sir Richard Steele shall hold the stakes." The money being deposited the gentleman began with, "I believe in G.o.d", and so went right through the creed. "Well," said the other when he had finished, "I didn't think he could have done it."

There is another story of a famous judge, Sir Nicholas Bacon, who was importuned by a criminal to spare his life on account of kins.h.i.+p. "How so," demanded the judge. "Because my name is Hog and yours is Bacon; and hog and bacon are so near akin that they cannot be separated."

"Ay," responded the judge dryly, "but you and I cannot yet be kindred, for hog is not bacon until it is well hanged."

On another occasion a nervous barrister, pleading before this same judge, began with repeated references to his "unfortunate client."

"Go on, sir," said the judge, "so far the Court is with you."

Of Jonathan Swift it is related that a gentleman who had sought to persuade him to accept an invitation to dinner said, in way of special inducement, "I'll send you my bill of fare." "Send me rather your bill of company," retorted Swift, showing his appreciation of the truth that not that which is eaten, but those who eat, form the more important part of a good dinner.

On the occasion when the "dreadful Judge Jeffreys" was trying Compton, bishop of London, before the Court of High Commission, that prelate, as Campbell relates in his _Lives of the Lord Chancellors_, complained of having no copy of the indictment. Jeffreys replied to this excuse that "all the coffee houses had it for a penny." The case being resumed after the lapse of a week, the bishop again protested that he was unprepared, owing to his continued difficulty in obtaining a copy of the necessary doc.u.ment. Jeffreys was obliged once more to adjourn the case, and in so doing offered this bantering apology:

"My lord," said he, "in telling you our commission was to be seen in every coffee house, I did not speak with any design to reflect on your lords.h.i.+p, as if you were a haunter of coffee houses. I abhor the thoughts of it!"

As the Judge had once been distinctly opposed to the party and principles which he went to such a length in supporting, so had he formerly owed something to the very inst.i.tution against which his last blow was directed. Roger North relates (and Campbell repeats the story) that, "after he was called to the bar, he used to sit in coffee houses and order his man to come and tell him that company attended him at his chamber; at which he would huff and say, 'let them stay a little, I will come presently,' and thus made a show of business."

John Timbs, in his _Clubs and Club Life in London_, has a host of anecdotes and stories of the old London coffee houses, among them the following:

Garraway's noted coffee-house, situated in Change-alley, Cornhill, had a threefold celebrity; tea was first sold in England here; it was a place of great resort in the time of the South Sea Bubble; and was later a place of great mercantile transactions. The original proprietor was Thomas Garway, tobacconist and coffee-man, the first who retailed tea, recommending it as a cure of all disorders.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HIS WARMEST WELCOME AT AN INN"

The George Inn of today has retained a portion of its old galleries, the original of which completely surrounded the courtyard in typical "d.i.c.kens Inn" style. The visitor can imagine Mr. Pickwick emerging from the door of one of the bedrooms and calling into the yard to Sam Weller. In the old-fas.h.i.+oned coffee room on the ground floor one may still lunch and dine enclosed in high bench seats]

Ogilby, the compiler of the _Britannia_, had his standing lottery of books at Mr. Garway's Coffee-house from April 7, 1673, till wholly drawn off. And, in the "Journey through England," 1722, Garraway's, Robins's, and Joe's are described as the three celebrated coffee-houses: "In the first, the People of Quality, who have business in the City, and the most considerable and wealthy citizens frequent. In the second the Foreign Banquiers, and often even Foreign Ministers. And in the third, the buyers and sellers of stock."

Wines were sold at Garraway's in 1673, "by the candle", that is, by auction, while an inch of candle burns. In the _Tatler_, No. 147, we read: "Upon my coming home last night, I found a very handsome present of French wine, left for me, as a taste of 216 hogshead, which are to be put on sale at 20 a hogshead, at Garraway's Coffee-house, in Exchange alley" etc. The sale by candle is not, however, by candlelight, but during the day. At the commencement of the sale, when the auctioneer has read a description of the property, and the conditions on which it is to be disposed of, a piece of candle, usually an inch long, is lighted, and he who is the last bidder at the time the light goes out is declared the purchaser.

Swift, in his _Ballad on the South Sea Scheme_, 1721, did not forget Garraway's:

There is a gulf, where thousands fell, Here all the bold adventurers came, A narrow sound, though deep as h.e.l.l, 'Change alley is the dreadful name.

Subscribers here by thousands float, And jostle one another down, Each paddling in his leaky boat, And here they fish for gold and drown.

Now buried in the depths below, Now mounted up to heaven again, They reel and stagger to and fro, At their wits' end, like drunken men.

Meantime secure on Garway cliffs, A savage race, by s.h.i.+pwrecks fed, Lie waiting for the founder'd skiffs, And strip the bodies of the dead.

Dr. Jno. Radcliff, who was a rash speculator in the South Sea Scheme, was usually planted at a table at Garraway's about Exchange time, to watch the turn of the market; and here he was seated when the footman of his powerful rival, Dr. Edward Hannes, came into Garraway's and inquired by way of a puff, if Dr. H. was there. Dr.

Radcliff, who was surrounded with several apothecaries and chirurgeons that flocked about him, cried out, "Dr. Hannes is not here," and desired to know "who wants him?" The fellow's reply was, "such a lord and such a lord;" but he was taken up with the dry rebuke, "No, no, friend, you are mistaken; the Doctor wants those lords." One of Radcliff's ventures was five thousand guineas upon one South Sea project. When he was told at Garraway's that 'twas all lost, "Why," said he, "'tis but going up five thousand pair of stairs more." "This answer," says Tom Brown, "deserved a statue."

Jonathan's Coffee-house was another Change-alley coffee-house, which is described in the _Tatler_, No. 38, as "the general mart of stock-jobbers," and the _Spectator_, No. 1, tells us that he "sometimes pa.s.ses for a Jew in the a.s.sembly of stock-jobbers at Jonathan's." This was their rendezvous, where gambling of all sorts was carried on, notwithstanding a former prohibition against the a.s.semblage of the jobbers, issued by the City of London, which prohibition continued unrepealed until 1825.

The _Spectator_, No. 16, notices some gay frequenters of the Rainbow Coffee-house in Fleet Street: "I have received a letter desiring me to be very satirical upon the little m.u.f.f that is now in fas.h.i.+on; another informs me of a pair of silver garters buckled below the knee, that have been lately seen at the Rainbow Coffee-house in Fleet Street."

Mr. Moncrieff, the dramatist, used to tell that about 1780, this house was kept by his grandfather, Alexander Moncrieff, when it retained its original t.i.tle of "The Rainbow Coffee-house."

Nando's Coffee-house at the east corner of Inner Temple-lane, No.

17, Fleet-Street, by some confused with Groom's house, No. 16, was the favourite haunt of Lord Thurlow before he dashed into law practice. At this coffee-house a large attendance of professional loungers was attracted by the fame of the punch and the charms of the landlady, which, with the small wits, were duly admired by and at the bar. One evening, the famous cause of Douglas _v._ the Duke of Hamilton was the topic of discussion, when Thurlow being present, it was suggested, half in earnest, to appoint him junior counsel, which was done. This employment brought him acquaintance with the d.u.c.h.ess of Queensberry, who saw at once the value of a man like Thurlow, and recommended Lord Bute to secure him by a silk gown.

d.i.c.k's Coffee-house, at No. 8, Fleet-street, (south side, near Temple Bar) was originally "Richard's", named from Richard Torner, or Turner, to whom the house was let in 1680. Richard's was frequented by Cowper, when he lived in the Temple. In his own account of his insanity, Cowper tells us:

"At breakfast I read the newspaper, and in it a letter, which, the further I perused it, the more closely engaged my attention. I cannot now recollect the purport of it; but before I had finished it, it appeared demonstratively true to me that it was a libel or satire upon me. The author appeared to be acquainted with my purpose of self-destruction, and to have written that letter on purpose to secure and hasten the execution of it. My mind, probably, at this time began to be disordered; however it was, I was certainly given to a strong delusion. I said within myself, 'Your cruelty shall be gratified; you shall have your revenge,' and flinging down the paper in a fit of strong pa.s.sion, I rushed hastily out of the room; directing my way towards the fields, where I intended to find some house to die in; or, if not, determined to poison myself in a ditch, where I could meet with one sufficiently retired."

Lloyd's Coffee-house was one of the earliest establishments of its kind; it is referred to in a poem printed in the year 1700, called the _Wealthy Shopkeeper, or Charitable Christian_:

Now to Lloyd's Coffee-house he never fails, To read the letters, and attend the sales.

In 1710, Steele (_Tatler_, No. 246) dates from Lloyd's his Pet.i.tion on Coffee-house Orators and Newsvendors. And Addison, in _Spectator_, April 23, 1711, relates this droll incident: "About a week since there happened to me a very odd accident, by reason of one of these my papers of minutes which I had accidentally dropped at Lloyd's Coffee-house, where the auctions are usually kept.

Before I missed it, there were a cl.u.s.ter of people who had found it, and were diverting themselves with it at one end of the coffee-house. It had raised so much laughter among them before I observed what they were about, that I had not the courage to own it. The boy of the coffee-house, when they had done with it, carried it about in his hand, asking everybody if they had dropped a written paper; but n.o.body challenging it, he was ordered by those merry gentlemen who had before perused it, to get up into the auction pulpit, and read it to the whole room, that if anybody would own it they might. The boy accordingly mounted the pulpit, and with a very audible voice read what proved to be minutes, which made the whole coffee-house very merry; some of them concluded it was written by a madman, and others by somebody that had been taking notes out of the _Spectator_. After it was read, and the boy was coming put of the pulpit, the _Spectator_ reached his arm out, and desired the boy to given it him; which was done according. This drew the whole eyes of the company upon the _Spectator_; but after casting a cursory glance over it, he shook his head twice or thrice at the reading of it, twisted it into a kind of match, and lighted his pipe with it. 'My profound silence,' says the _Spectator_, 'together with the steadiness of my countenance, and the gravity of my behaviour during the whole transaction, raised a very loud laugh on all sides of me; but as I had escaped all suspicion of being the author, I was very well satisfied, and applying myself to my pipe and the _Postman_, took no further notice of anything that pa.s.sed about me.'"

The Smyrna Coffee-house in Pall Mall, was, in the reign of Queen Anne, famous for "that cl.u.s.ter of wise-heads" found sitting every evening from the left side of the fire to the door. The following announcement in the _Tatler_, No. 78, is amusing: "This is to give notice to all ingenious gentlemen in and about the cities of London and Westminster, who have a mind to be instructed in the n.o.ble sciences of music, poetry and politics, that they repair to the Smyrna Coffee-house, in Pall Mall, betwixt the hours of eight and ten at night, where they may be instructed gratis, with elaborate essays 'by word of mouth', on all or any of the above-mentioned arts."