The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 3 (of 3) / Everlasting Calerdar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac

Armorial Bearing
OF THE LORD OF THE MANOR OF
Stoke Lyne, Oxfordshire.

The above print, obligingly presented, is submitted to the reader, with the following in explanation—

To the Editor.

Sir,—As I have taken in your Every-Day Book, and continue with the Table Book, I send you the subjoined account, which, perhaps, may be worth your consideration, and the engraved wood-block for your use.

I remain your well-wisher,
X.

An Account of the Manor of Stoke Lyne in Oxfordshire, late the Property of the Earl and Countess of Shipbrook.

The lord of the manor has a right, by ancient custom, to bear a hawk about his arms agreeable to the print: it arose from the following circumstance. When Charles the First held his parliament at Oxford, the then lord of Stoke Lyne was particularly useful to the king in his unfortunate situation, and rendered him service. To reward him he offered him knighthood, which he declined, and merely requested the king’s permission to bear behind his coat of arms a hawk, which his majesty instantly granted. The present lord of the manor is Mr. Cole of Twickenham, inheriting the estate by descent from the late earl and countess, and whose family are registered in the parish church as early as March 22, 1584. There is also a monument of them in the church of Petersham, 1624; and another branch of the same family were created baronets, March 4, 1641, supposed to be the oldest family in the county of Middlesex.

May-Day Dance in 1698.

This engraving of the milkmaids’ garland, and the costume of themselves and their fiddler, at the close of the century before last, is from a print in “Mémoires, &c. par un Voyageur en Angleterre,” an octavo volume, printed “à la Haye 1698,” wherein it is introduced by the author, Henry Misson, to illustrate a passage descriptive of the amusements of London at that time. His account of the usage is to the following effect:—

On the first of May, and the five or six days following, all the young and pretty peasant girls, who are accustomed to bear about milk for sale in the city, dress themselves very orderly, and carry about them a number of vases and silver vessels, of which they make a pyramid, adorned with ribbons and flowers. This pyramid they bear on their heads instead of the ordinary milk-pail, and accompanied by certain of their comrades and the music of a fiddle, they go dancing from door to door surrounded by young men and children, who follow them in crowds; and every where they are made some little present.

ISABELLA COLOUR.

The archduke Albert married the infanta Isabella, daughter of Philip II. king of Spain, with whom he had the Low Countries in dowry. In the year 1602, he laid siege to Ostend, then in the possession of the heretics, and his pious princess, who attended him in that expedition, made a vow that till the city was taken she would never change her clothes. Contrary to expectation, it was three years before the place was reduced; in which time her highness’s linen had acquired a hue, which from the superstition of the princess and the times was much admired, and adopted by the court fashionables under the name of the “Isabella-colour:” it is a whitish yellow, or soiled buff—better imagined than described.[160]

Garrick Plays.
No. XV.

[From the “City Night-Cap,” a Tragi-Comedy, by Robert Davenport, 1651.]

Lorenzo Medico suborns three Slaves to swear falsely to an adultery between his virtuous Wife Abstemia, and his Friend Philippo. They give their testimony before the Duke of Verona, and the Senators.

Philippo, at an after-trial, challenges Lorenzo.

Abstemia, decoyed to a Brothel in Milan, is attempted by the Duke’s Son.

Undue praise declined.

[From the “Conspiracy,” a Tragedy by Henry Killigrew, 1638. Author’s age 17.]

The Rightful Heir to the Crown kept from his inheritance: an Angel sings to him sleeping.

C. L.

THE GOOD CLERK.

He writeth a fair and swift hand, and is completely versed in the four first rules of Arithmetic, in the Rule of Three, (which is sometimes called the Golden Rule,) and in Practice. We mention these things, that we may leave no room for cavillers to say, that any thing essential hath been omitted in our definition; else, to speak the truth, these are but ordinary accomplishments, and such as every understrapper at a desk is commonly furnished with. The character we treat of soareth higher.

He is clean and neat in his person; not from a vain-glorious desire of setting himself forth to advantage in the eyes of the other sex, (with which vanity too many of our young sparks now-a-days are infected,) but to do credit (as we say) to the office. For this reason he evermore taketh care that his desk or his books receive no soil; the which things he is commonly as solicitous to have fair and unblemished, as the owner of a fine horse is to have him appear in good keep.

He riseth early in the morning; not because early rising conduceth to health, (though he doth not altogether despise that consideration,) but chiefly to the intent that he may be first at the desk. There is his post—there he delighteth to be; unless when his meals, or necessity, calleth him away; which time he always esteemeth as lost, and maketh as short as possible.

He is temperate in eating and drinking, that he may preserve a clear head and steady hand for his master’s service. He is also partly induced to this observation of the rules of temperance by his respect for religion, and the laws of his country; which things (it may once for all be noted) do add special assistances to his actions, but do not and cannot furnish the main spring or motive thereto. His first ambition (as appeareth all along) is to be a good clerk, his next a good Christian, a good patriot, &c.

Correspondent to this, he keepeth himself honest, not for fear of the laws, but because he hath observed how unseemly an article it maketh in the day-book or ledger, when a sum is set down lost or missing; it being his pride to make these books to agree and to tally, the one side with the other, with a sort of architectural symmetry and correspondence.

He marrieth, or marrieth not, as best suiteth with his employer’s views. Some merchants do the rather desire to have married men in their counting-houses, because they think the married state a pledge for their servants’ integrity, and an incitement to them to be industrious; and it was an observation of a late lord mayor of London, that the sons of clerks do generally prove clerks themselves, and that merchants encouraging persons in their employ to marry, and to have families, was the best method of securing a breed of sober, industrious young men attached to the mercantile interest. Be this as it may, such a character as we have been describing, will wait till the pleasure of his employer is known on this point; and regulateth his desires by the custom of the house or firm to which he belongeth.

He avoideth profane oaths and jesting, as so much time lost from his employ; what spare time he hath for conversation, which in a counting-house such as we have been supposing can be but small, he spendeth in putting seasonable questions to such of his fellows, (and sometimes respectfully to the master himself,) who can give him information respecting the price and quality of goods, the state of exchange, or the latest improvements in book-keeping; thus making the motion of his lips, as well as of his fingers, subservient to his master’s interest. Not that he refuseth a brisk saying, or a cheerful sally of wit, when it comes enforced, is free of offence, and hath a convenient brevity. For this reason he hath commonly some such phrase as this in his mouth:—

Or,

So upon the eve of any great holiday, of which he keepeth one or two at least every year, he will merrily say in the hearing of a confidential friend, but to none other:—

Or,

But then this must always be understood to be spoken confidentially, and, as we say, under the rose.

Lastly, his dress is plain, without singularity; with no other ornament than the quill, which is the badge of his function, stuck under the dexter ear, and this rather for convenience of having it at hand, when he hath been called away from his desk, and expecteth to resume his seat there again shortly, than from any delight which he taketh in foppery or ostentation. The colour of his clothes is generally noted to be black rather than brown, brown rather than blue or green. His whole deportment is staid, modest, and civil. His motto is regularity.——

This character was sketched, in an interval of business, to divert some of the melancholy hours of a counting-house. It is so little a creature of fancy, that it is scarce any thing more than a recollection of some of those frugal and economical maxims which, about the beginning of the last century, (England’s meanest period,) were endeavoured to be inculcated and instilled into the breasts of the London apprentices,[161] by a class of instructors who might not inaptly be termed the masters of mean morals. The astonishing narrowness and illiberality of the lessons contained in some of those books is inconceivable by those whose studies have not led them that way, and would almost induce one to subscribe to the hard censure which Drayton has passed upon the mercantile spirit:—

Defoeana.
No. I.

THE TRADESMAN.

I have now lying before me that curious book, by Daniel Defoe, “The complete English Tradesman.” The pompous detail, the studied analysis of every little mean art, every sneaking address, every trick and subterfuge (short of larceny) that is necessary to the tradesman’s occupation, with the hundreds of anecdotes, dialogues (in Defoe’s liveliest manner) interspersed, all tending to the same amiable purpose, namely, the sacrificing of every honest emotion of the soul to what he calls the main chance—if you read it in an ironical sense, and as a piece of covered satire, make it one of the most amusing books which Defoe ever wrote, as much so as any of his best novels. It is difficult to say what his intention was in writing it. It is almost impossible to suppose him in earnest. Yet such is the bent of the book to narrow and to degrade the heart, that if such maxims were as catching and infectious as those of a licentious cast, which happily is not the case, had I been living at that time, I certainly should have recommended to the grand jury of Middlesex, who presented the Fable of the Bees, to have presented this book of Defoe’s in preference, as of a far more vile and debasing tendency. I will give one specimen of his advice to the young tradesman, on the government of his temper. “The retail tradesman in especial, and even every tradesman in his station, must furnish himself with a competent stock of patience; I mean that sort of patience which is needful to bear with all sorts of impertinence, and the most provoking curiosity that it is impossible to imagine the buyers, even the worst of them, are or can be guilty of. A tradesman behind his counter must have no flesh and blood about him, no passions, no resentment; he must never be angry, no not so much as seem to be so, if a customer tumbles him five hundred pounds worth of goods, and scarce bids money for any thing; nay, though they really come to his shop with no intent to buy, as many do, only to see what is to be sold, and though he knows they cannot be better pleased than they are, at some other shop where they intend to buy, ’tis all one, the tradesman must take it, he must place it to the account of his calling, that ’tis his business to be ill used and resent nothing; and so must answer as obligingly to those that give him an hour or two’s trouble and buy nothing, as he does to those who in half the time lay out ten or twenty pounds. The case is plain, and if some do give him trouble and do not buy, others make amends and do buy; and as for the trouble, ’tis the business of the shop.” Here follows a most admirable story of a mercer, who, by his indefatigable meanness, and more than Socratic patience under affronts, overcame and reconciled a lady, who upon the report of another lady that he had behaved saucily to some third lady, had determined to shun his shop, but by the over-persuasions of a fourth lady was induced to go to it; which she does, declaring beforehand that she will buy nothing, but give him all the trouble she can. Her attack and his defence, her insolence and his persevering patience, are described in colours worthy of a Mandeville; but it is too long to recite. “The short inference from this long discourse,” says he, “is this, that here you see, and I could give you many examples like this, how and in what manner a shopkeeper is to behave himself in the way of his business; what impertinences, what taunts, flouts, and ridiculous things, he must bear in his trade, and must not show the least return, or the least signal of disgust: he must have no passions, no fire in his temper; he must be all soft and smooth: nay, if his real temper be naturally fiery and hot, he must show none of it in his shop: he must be a perfect, complete hypocrite if he will be a complete tradesman.[163] It is true, natural tempers are not to be always counterfeited; the man cannot easily be a lamb in his shop, and a lion in himself; but, let it be easy or hard, it must be done, and is done: there are men who have, by custom and usage, brought themselves to it, that nothing could be meeker and milder than they, when behind the counter, and yet nothing be more furious and raging in every other part of life; nay, the provocations they have met with in their shops have so irritated their rage, that they would go up stairs from their shop, and fall into frenzies, and a kind of madness, and beat their heads against the wall, and perhaps mischief themselves, if not prevented, till the violence of it had gotten vent, and the passions abate and cool. I heard once of a shopkeeper that behaved himself thus to such an extreme, that when he was provoked by the impertinence of the customers, beyond what his temper could bear, he would go up stairs and beat his wife, kick his children about like dogs, and be as furious for two or three minutes, as a man chained down in Bedlam; and again, when that heat was over, would sit down and cry faster than the children he had abused; and after the fit, he would go down into the shop again, and be as humble, courteous, and as calm as any man whatever; so absolute a government of his passions had he in the shop, and so little out of it: in the shop, a soulless animal that would resent nothing; and in the family a madman: in the shop, meek like a lamb; but in the family, outrageous like a Lybian lion. The sum of the matter is, it is necessary for a tradesman to subject himself by all the ways possible to his business; his customers are to be his idols: so far as he may worship idols by allowance, he is to bow down to them and worship them; at least, he is not in any way to displease them, or show any disgust or distaste, whatsoever they may say or do; the bottom of all is, that he is intending to get money by them, and it is not for him that gets money to offer the least inconvenience to them by whom he gets it; he is to consider that, as Solomon says, the borrower is servant to the lender, so the seller is servant to the buyer.” What he says on the head of pleasures and recreations is not less amusing:—“The tradesman’s pleasure should be in his business, his companions should be his books, (he means his ledger, waste-book, &c.;) and if he has a family, he makes his excursions up stairs and no further:—none of my cautions aim at restraining a tradesman from diverting himself, as we call it, with his fireside, or keeping company with his wife and children.”[164]

MANNERS OF A SPRUCE LONDON MERCER, AND HIS FEMALE CUSTOMER, A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

Those who have never minded the conversation of a spruce Mercer, and a young Lady his Customer that comes to his shop, have neglected a scene of life that is very entertaining.—His business is to sell as much silk as he can, at a price by which he shall get what he proposes to be reasonable, according to the customary profits of the trade. As to the lady, what she would be at is to please her fancy, and buy cheaper by a groat or sixpence per yard than the things she wants are usually sold for. From the impression the gallantry of our sex has made upon her, she imagines (if she be not very deformed), that she has a fine mien and easy behaviour, and a peculiar sweetness of voice; that she is handsome, and if not beautiful, at least more agreeable than most young women she knows. As she has no pretensions to purchase the same things with less money than other people, but what are built on her good qualities, so she sets herself off to the best advantage her wit and discretion will let her. The thoughts of love are here out of the case; so on the one hand she has no room for playing the tyrant, and giving herself angry and peevish airs; and on the other, more liberty of speaking kindly, and being affable, than she can have almost on any other occasion. She knows that abundance of well-bred people come to his shop, and endeavours to render herself as amiable, as virtue and the rules of decency admit of. Coming with such a resolution of behaviour, she cannot meet with anything to ruffle her temper.—Before her coach is yet quite stopt, she is approached by a gentleman-like man, that has every thing clean and fashionable about him, who in low obeisance pays her homage, and as soon as her pleasure is known that she has a mind to come in, hands her into the shop, where immediately he slips from her, and through a by-way, that remains visible for only half a moment, with great address intrenches himself behind the counter: here facing her, with a profound reverence and modish phrase he begs the favour of knowing her commands. Let her say and dislike what she pleases, she can never be directly contradicted: she deals with a man, in whom consummate patience is one of the mysteries of his trade; and whatever trouble she creates, she is sure to hear nothing but the most obliging language, and has always before her a cheerful countenance, where joy and respect seem to be blended with good humour, and all together make up an artificial serenity, more engaging than untaught nature is able to produce.—When two persons are so well met, the conversation must be very agreeable, as well as extremely mannerly, though they talk about trifles. Whilst she remains irresolute what to take, he seems to be the same in advising her, and is very cautious how to direct her choice; but when once she has made it, and is fixed, he immediately becomes positive that it is the best of the sort, extols her fancy, and the more he looks upon it, the more he wonders he should not have discovered the preeminence of it over any thing he has in his shop. By precept, example, and great observation, he has learned unobserved to slide into the inmost recesses of the soul, sound the capacity of his customers, and find out their blind side unknown to them: by all which he is instructed in fifty other stratagems to make her overvalue her own judgment, as well as the commodity she would purchase. The greatest advantage he has over her, lies in the most material part of the commerce between them, the debate about the price, which he knows to a farthing, and she is wholly ignorant of: therefore he no where more egregiously imposes upon her understanding; and though here he has the liberty of telling what lies he pleases, as to the prime cost and the money he has refused, yet he trusts not to them only; but, attacking her vanity, makes her believe the most incredible things in the world, concerning his own weakness and her superior abilities. He had taken a resolution, he says, never to part with that piece under such a price, but she has the power of talking him out of his goods beyond anybody he ever sold to: he protests that he loses by his silk, but seeing that she has a fancy for it, and is resolved to give no more, rather than disoblige a lady he has such an uncommon value for, he will let her have it, and only begs that another time she will not stand so hard with him. In the mean time the buyer, who knows that she is no fool and has a voluble tongue, is easily persuaded that she has a very winning way of talking, and thinking it sufficient for the sake of good breeding to disown her merit, and in some witty repartee retort the compliment, he makes her swallow very contentedly the substance of every thing he tells her. The upshot is, that with the satisfaction of having saved ninepence per yard, she has bought her silk exactly at the same price as anybody else might have done, and often gives sixpence more than, rather than not have sold it, he would have taken.—

We have copied the above from Mandeville’s “Fable of the Bees,” Edition 1725. How far, and in what way, the practice between the same parties differs at this day, we respectfully leave to our fair shopping friends, of this present year 1827, to determine.

L.

CURING OF HERRINGS.

From the Works of Thomas Nash, 1599.

“It is to bee read, or to bee heard of, howe in the punie shipe or nonage of Cerdicke sandes, when the best houses and walles there were of mudde, or canvaze, or poldavies entiltments, a fisherman of Yarmouth, having drawne so many herrings hee wist not what to do with all, hung the residue, that hee could not sel nor spend, in the sooty roofe of his shad a drying; or say thus, his shad was a cabinet in decimo sexto, builded on foure crutches, and he had no roome in it, but that garret in excelsis, to lodge them, where if they were drie let them be drie, for in the sea they had drunk too much, and now hee would force them doo penance for it. The weather was colde, and good fires hee kept, (as fishermen, what hardnesse soever they endure at sea, will make all smoke, but they will make amends for it when they come to land;) and what with his fiering and smoking, or smokie fiering, in that his narrow lobby, his herrings, which were as white as whalebone when he hung them up, nowe lookt as red as a lobster. It was four or five dayes before either hee or his wife espied it; and when they espied it, they fell downe on their knees and blessed themselves, and cride, ‘A miracle, a miracle!’ and with the proclaiming it among their neighbours they could not be content, but to the court the fisherman would, and present it to the King, then lying at Burrough Castle two miles off.”

The same facetious author, in enumerating the excellences of herrings, says, “A red herring is wholesome in a frosty morning: it is most precious fish-merchandise, because it can be carried through all Europe. No where are they so well cured as at Yarmouth. The poorer sort make it three parts of their sustenance. It is every man’s money, from the king to the peasant. The round or cob, dried and beaten to powder, is a cure for the stone. Rub a quart-pot, or any measure, round about the mouth with a red herring, the beer shall never foam or froath in it. A red herring drawn on the ground will lead hounds a false scent. A broiled herring is good for the rheumatism. The fishery is a great nursery for seamen, and brings more ships to Yarmouth than assembled at Troy to fetch back Helen.”

At the end of what Nash calls “The Play in Praise of Red Herrings,” he boasts of being the first author who had written in praise of fish or fishermen: of the latter he wittily and sarcastically says, “For your seeing wonders in the deep, you may be the sons and heirs of the prophet Jonas; you are all cavaliers and gentlemen, since the king of fishes chose you for his subjects; for your selling smoke, you may be courtiers; for your keeping fasting days, friar-observants; and, lastly, look in what town there is the sign of the three mariners, the huff-capped drink in that house you shall be sure of always.”

Should any one desire to be informed to what farther medicinal and culinary purposes red herring may be applied with advantage, Dodd’s Natural History of the Herring may be consulted. If what is there collected were true, there would be little occasion for the faculty, and cookery would no longer be a science.

Norwich.G. B.

Poetry.

S. R. J.

Varia.

WILSON AND SHUTER.

When Wilson the comedian made his début, it was in the character formerly supported by Shuter; but, upon his appearance on the stage, the audience called out for their former favourite, by crying, “Off, off—Shuter, Shuter!” Whereon Wilson, turning round, and with a face as stupid as art could make it, and suiting his action to his words, replied, “Shoot her, shoot her?” (pointing at the same time to the female performer on the stage with him,) “I’m sure she does her part very well.” This well-timed sally of seeming stupidity turned the scale in his favour, and called down repeated applause, which continued during the whole of the performance.[165]

KITTY WHITE’S PARENTHESIS.

Kitty White, a pupil to old Rich, the comedian, was instructed by O’Brien, of Drury-lane, how to perform Sylvia, in “The Recruiting Officer.” The lady reciting a passage improperly, he told her it was a parenthesis, and therefore required a different tone of voice, and greater volubility. “A parenthesis!” said Miss White, “What’s that?” Her mother, who was present, blushing for her daughter’s ignorance, immediately exclaimed, “Oh, what an infernal limb of an actress will you make! not to know the meaning of ’prentice, and that it is the plural number of ’prentices!”

LADY WALLIS AND Mr. HARRIS.

Mr. Harris, patentee of Covent-garden theatre, having received a very civil message from lady Wallis, offering him her comedy for nothing, Mr. H. observed, upon his perusal, that her ladyship knew the exact value of it.[166]

SMOKY CHIMNIES.

A large bladder filled with air, suspended about half way up the chimney by a piece of string attached to a stick, and placed across a hoop, which may be easily fastened by nails, will, it is said, prevent the disagreeable effects of a smoky chimney.

OLD ENGLISH PROVERB.

“An ounce of mother wit is worth a pound of learning,” seems well exemplified in the following dialogue, translated from the German:

Hans, the son of the clergyman, said to the farmer’s son Frederick, as they were walking together on a fine summer’s evening, “How large is the moon which we now see in the heavens?”

Frederick. As large as a baking-dish.

Hans. Ha! ha! ha! As large as a baking-dish? No, Frederick, it is full as large as a whole country.

Frederick. What do you tell me? as large as a whole country? How do you know it is so large?

Hans. My tutor told me so.

While they were talking, Augustus, another boy, came by; and Hans ran laughing up to him, and said, “Only hear, Augustus! Frederick says the moon is no bigger than a baking-dish.”

“No?” replied Augustus, “The moon must be at least as big as our barn. When my father has taken me with him into the city, I have observed, that the globe on the top of the dome of the cathedral seems like a very little ball; and yet it will contain three sacks of corn; and the moon must be a great deal higher than the dome.”

Now which of these three little philosophers was the most intelligent?—I must give it in favour of the last; though Hans was most in the right through the instruction of his master. But it is much more honourable to come even at all near the truth, by one’s own reasoning, than to give implicit faith to the hypothesis of another.