Chapter XI: Hanoverian Period (3)

But first the fuel’d chimney blazes wide;
The tankards foam; and the strong table groans
Beneath the smoking sirloin, stretch’d immense
From side to side; in which with desperate knife
The deep incision make, and talk the while
Of England’s glory, ne’er to be defaced
While hence they borrow vigour; or amain
Into the pasty plunged at intervals,
If stomach keen can intervals allow,
Relating all the glories of the chace.
Then sated Hunger bids his brother Thirst
Produce the mighty bowl; the mighty bowl,
Swell’d high with fiery juice, steams liberal round
A potent gale, delicious as the breath
Of Mäia to the love-sick shepherdess
On violets diffus’d, while soft she hears
Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms.
Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn
Mature and perfect from his dark retreat
Of thirty years; and now his honest front
Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid
Even with the vineyard’s best produce to vie.
* * * * *
At last these puling idlenesses laid
Aside, frequent and full the dry divan
Close in firm circle; and set ardent in
For serious drinking. Nor evasion sly,
Nor sober shift, is to the puking wretch
Indulg’d apart; but earnest brimming bowls
Lave every soul, the table floating round,
And pavement, faithless to the fuddled foot.
* * * * *
Before their maudlin eyes
Seen dim and blue the double tapers dance,
Like the sun wading through the misty sky.
Then sliding soft, they drop. Confus’d above
Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazeteers,
As if the table even itself was drunk,
Lie a wet broken scene; and wide below
Is heap’d the social slaughter: where astride
The lubber Power in filthy triumph sits
Slumbrous, inclining still from side to side,
And steeps them drench’d in potent sleep till morn.
Perhaps some doctor, of tremendous paunch
Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink,
Outlives them all; and from his buried flock
Retiring, full of rumination sad,
Laments the weakness of these latter times.

In _Autumn_, somewhat later, he sings the praises of _cider_:--

The piercing cider for the thirsty tongue;
Thy native theme and boon inspirer too,
Phillips, Pomona’s bard, the second thou
Who nobly durst in rhyme-unfetter’d verse
With British freedom sing the British song;
How from Silurian vats high-sparkling wines
Foam in transparent floods; some strong to cheer
The wintry revels of the labouring hind;
And tasteful some to cool the summer hours.

Again, we read a few lines later of the autumnal vintage:--

Round the raised nations pours the cup of joy:
The claret smooth, red as the lip we press
In sparkling fancy while we drain the bowl;
The mellow-tasted Burgundy; and quick
As is the wit it gives the gay champagne.

Wordsworth says of the _Seasons_:--‘Much of it is written from himself.’ Probably this is true.

In 1798 was published a collection of the dramatic works of John O’Keefe. In the following lines from his _Poor Soldier_ occurs a phrase which has become household:--

Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale,
From which I now drink to sweet Nan of the Vale,
Was once Toby Filpot’s, a thirsty old soul
As e’er _cracked a bottle_ or fathomed a bowl.

The allusion is simply to drunken frolics, during which glass was broken. Mr. Oldbuck says in the _Antiquary_:--‘We never were glass-breakers in this house.’

In 1805 Robert Bloomfield published his rural poem, the _Farmer’s Boy_. It is a very humorous and suggestive account of the manners of clod-hopping England as engaged about the Harvest-home supper in Suffolk and Norfolk, here entitled the _Horkey_. This has been already discussed. Suffice it to add that Bloomfield’s charming little provincial ballad, entitled, _The Horkey_, has been recently published by Macmillan, and is abundantly illustrated.

But of all the marvellous issues from the press at the beginning of the present century, nothing could be more monstrous than the publication of a work entitled ‘_Ebrietatis Encomium; or, the Praise of Drunkenness_, wherein is authentically and most evidently proved the Necessity of Frequently Getting Drunk; and the Practise is most ancient, primitive, and Catholick.’

The author, not unnaturally, thinks that some apology is needed in his preface. He declares that he did not undertake the work on account of any zeal he had for wine, but only to divert himself(!), and not to lose a great many curious remarks he had made upon this most Catholic liquid.

Verily, ‘_nulli vitio unquam defuit advocatus_.’ He seems to have hunted up _bon-mots_, or rather _mal-mots_ from every toping author that was to hand, _e.g._ he cites Seneca (_De Tranquillitate_):--‘As drunkenness causes some distempers, so it is a sovereign remedy for our sorrows.’ Propertius--‘Alas! so then wine lives longer than man, let us then sit down and drink bumpers; life and wine are the same thing.’ Horace--‘That nectar which the blessed vines produce, the height of all our joy and wishes here.’ La Motte:--

A l’envi laissons nous saisir,
Aux transports d’une douce ivresse:
Qu’importe si c’est un plaisir,
Que ce soit folie ou sagesse.

These are specimens of the sources from which the author, ‘Boniface Oinophilus’ drew.[228]

But we travel to far other soil.

The poet Cowper [_b._ 1781, _d._ 1800], the intellectual ancestor of Wordsworth, has several pictures of his times in his writings.

With a lofty and noble morality does he describe the truly gay:--

Whom call we gay? That honour has been long
The boast of mere pretenders to the name.
The innocent are gay--the lark is gay,
That dries his feathers saturate with dew
Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams
Of dayspring overshoot his humble nest.
The peasant too, a witness of his song,
Himself a songster, is as gay as he.
But save me from the gaiety of those
Whose headaches nail them to a noon-day bed;
And save me too from theirs whose haggard eyes
Flash desperation, and betray their pangs
For property stripp’d off by cruel chance;
From gaiety that fills the bones with pain,
The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with woe.
_The Task_, Book I., ‘The Sofa.’

Noble lines these, breathing much of the spirit of Horace’s noble ethics:--

Non possidentem multa vocaveris
Recte beatum. Rectius occupat
Nomen beati qui deorum
Muneribus sapienter uti,
Calletque duram pauperiem pati,
Pejusque leto flagitium timet.
Non ille pro caris amicis,
Non patriâ timidus perire.

There was not perhaps much need for our poet to dread the gout:--

Oh may I live exempted (while I live
Guiltless of pamper’d appetite obscene),
From pangs arthritic, that infest the toe
Of libertine Excess!
_The Task_, Book I., ‘The Sofa.’

Certainly not if the following picture was his usual evening condition:--

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And, while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups
That cheer but not inebriate wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
_The Task_, Book IV., ‘The Winter Evening.’

Commenting upon the usual misquotation of this passage, which provincial newspapers make a point of rendering:--‘The cup that cheers’ &c., Cuthbert Bede adds:--

The poet of ‘The Task’ spoke of ‘cups;’ and, it is very evident,
from the graphic description of the accompanying urn, that those
cups were intended to hold a certain beverage that had been
introduced into England about 130 years before ‘The Task’ was
written, and which, by those who could afford to purchase it
at the high price then demanded for it, was known as ‘Tea.’ It
might be urged, with more ingenuity than plausibility, that, as
Cowper does not mention the contents of the cups, they, together
with the hot water in the loud-hissing urn, might have been used
for some of those compounds, familiarly known as ‘Cups.’ Thus,
there were ‘cups’ of spiced wine, Claret, Burgundy, Gilliflower
sack, Hydromel (which was recommended by Lord Holles to those
who abjured wine, and was composed of honey, spring-water, and
ginger), Cider, and many kinds of ale and Beer-cups, distinguished
by such extraordinary names as Humpty-dumpty, Clamber-clown, Old
Pharaoh, Hugmatee, Stitchback, Cock-ale, Three-threads, Mum, and
Knock-me-down, which last name is particularly suggestive of the
probable result of the toper’s indulgence in a brew of hot ale-cup,
in which gin was a leading ingredient.

It is very evident that it could only be a person who was very
hard-up for an argument, who could think of framing such an
accusation against the abstemious and gentle William Cowper, and
who could interpret his ‘cups’ in any other sense than as cups for
tea. In fact, the whole passage presents to us a tea-table scene;
and, as we read it, we can see the comfortable parlour at Olney,
the curtains closely drawn--in that respect very sensibly differing
from

‘The half-uncurtain’d window,’

mentioned in the winter-evening’s scene, in Campbell’s ‘Pleasures
of Hope’--with the bubbling urn, containing, possibly, the tea
already made, or else ready to contribute its boiling stream to the
tea-pot.

But this sort of evening was not the usual evening in England in 1785. Much more frequently was the evening spent in what our poet himself calls ‘the quenchless thirst of ruinous ebriety,’ and describes in the following lines (_Task_, lib. iv.):--

Pass where we may, through city or through town,
Village or hamlet of this merry land,
Though lean and beggar’d, every twentieth pace
Conducts the unguarded nose to such a whiff
Of stale debauch, forth issuing from the styes
That Law has licensed, as makes Temperance reel.
There sit, involved and lost in curling clouds
Of Indian fume, and guzzling deep, the boor,
The lackey, and the groom: the craftsman there
Takes a Lethean leave of all his toil;
Smith, cobbler, joiner, he that plies the shears,
And he that kneads the dough; all aloud alike,
All learned, and all drunk! the fiddle screams
Plaintive and piteous, as it wept and wail’d
Its wasted tones and harmony unheard.
* * * * *
‘Tis here they learn
The road that leads from competence and peace
To indigence and rapine; till at last
Society, grown weary of the load,
Shakes her encumber’d lap, and casts them out.
But censure profits little: vain the attempt
To advertise in verse a public pest
That, like the filth with which the peasant feeds
His hungry acres, stinks and is of use.
The excise is fatten’d with the rich result
Of all this riot: and ten thousand casks
For ever dribbling out their base contents,
Touch’d by the Midas finger of the State,
Bleed gold for ministers to sport away.
Drink and be mad then; ‘tis your country bids!
Gloriously drunk obey the important call!
Her cause demands the assistance of your throats
Ye all can swallow, and she asks no more.

Towards the end of the progress of error is the sage advice:--

With caution taste the sweet Circæan cup;
He that sips often at last drinks it up.
Habits are soon assumed, but when we strive
To strip them off ‘tis being flayed alive.
Call’d to the temple of impure delight
He that abstains, and he alone, does right.

Finally, an admirable moral is contained in the lines:--

Pleasure admitted in undue degree
Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
‘Tis not alone the grape’s enticing juice
Unnerves the moral powers, and mars their use;
Ambition, avarice, and the lust of fame,
And woman, lovely woman, does the same.

Wordsworth was a most abstemious man. He and his wife drank water, and ate the simplest fare. When Scott stayed with him at Rydal Mount, he had to hie him to the nearest public-house not unfrequently.

Myers has observed, in his monograph on the poet in _English Men of Letters_:--

The poet of the _Waggoner_--who, himself an habitual water-drinker,
has so glowingly described the glorification which the prospect of
nature receives in a half-intoxicated brain--may justly claim that
he can enter into all genuine pleasures, even of an order which he
declines for himself. With anything that is false or artificial
he cannot sympathise, nor with such faults as baseness, cruelty,
rancour, which seem contrary to human nature itself; but in dealing
with faults of mere _weakness_ he is far less strait-laced than
many less virtuous men.

His comment on Burns’ _Tam o’ Shanter_ will perhaps surprise some
readers who are accustomed to think of him only in his didactic
attitude.

_Wordsworth’s Criticism._

... Who, but some impenetrable dunce or narrow-minded puritan in
works of art, ever read without delight the picture which Burns
has drawn of the convivial exaltation of the rustic adventurer Tam
o’ Shanter? The poet fears not to tell the reader in the outset
that his hero was a desperate and sottish drunkard, whose excesses
were as frequent as his opportunities. This reprobate sits down
to his cups while the storm is roaring, and heaven and earth
are in confusion; the night is driven on by song and tumultuous
noise, laughter and jest thicken as the beverage improves upon the
palate--conjugal fidelity archly bends to the service of general
benevolence--selfishness is not absent, but wearing the mask of
social cordiality; and while these various elements of humanity are
blended into one proud and happy composition of elated spirits, the
anger of the tempest without doors only heightens and sets off the
enjoyment within. I pity him who cannot perceive that in all this,
though there was no moral purpose, there is a moral effect.

‘Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,
O’er a’ the _ills_ of life victorious.’

What a lesson do these words convey of charitable indulgence for
the vicious habits of the principal actor in the scene, and of
those who resemble him! Men who to the rigidly virtuous are objects
almost of loathing, and whom therefore they cannot serve! The
poet, penetrating the unsightly and disgusting surfaces of things,
has unveiled with exquisite skill the finer ties of imagination and
feeling that often bind these beings to practices productive of
so much unhappiness to themselves, and to those whom it is their
duty to cherish; and, as far as he puts the reader into possession
of this intelligent sympathy, he qualifies him for exercising a
salutary influence over the minds of those who are thus deplorably
enslaved.

The poet Southey’s opinion of the ale-house, _versus_ the home, is as true of our own times as his own:--

For the labouring man the ale-house is too often a place of
unmingled evil; where, while he is single, he squanders the money
which ought to be laid up as a provision for marriage or old age;
and where, if he frequent it after he is married, he commits the
far heavier sin of spending, for his own selfish gratification, the
earnings upon which the woman and children whom he has rendered
dependent upon him have the strongest of all claims.

Of the drink itself he writes:--

But Thalaba took not the draught,
For right he knew the Prophet had forbidden
That beverage, the mother of sins;
Nor did the urgent guests
Proffer the second time the liquid fire,
For in the youth’s strong eye they saw
No movable resolve.

William Playfair, the famous political economist, wrote in 1805 his _Enquiry into the Permanent Causes of the Decline and Fall of Powerful and Wealthy Nations_. He has some striking remarks upon the bearing of _revenue_ upon the drink traffic:--

When a nation becomes the slave of its revenue, and sacrifices
everything to that object, _abuses that favour revenue are
difficult to reform_; but surely it would be well to take some
mode to prevent the _facility with which people get drunk_,
and the temptation that is laid to do so. The immense number
of public-houses, and the way in which they give credit, are
undoubtedly, in part, causes of this evil. _It would be easy to
lessen the number_, without hurting liberty, and it would be no
injustice if publicans were prevented from legal recovery for
beer or spirits consumed in their houses, in the same manner that
payment cannot be enforced of any person under twenty-one years of
age, unless for necessaries. There could be no hardship in this,
and it would produce a great reform in the manners of the lower
orders. There are only three modes of teaching youth the way to
well-doing--by precept, by example, and by habit at an early age.
Precept, without example and habit, has but little weight, yet how
can a child have either of these, if the parents are encouraged and
assisted in living a vicious life? Nations and individuals should
guard against those vices to which they find they have a natural
disposition; and drinking and gluttony are the vices to which the
common people in this country are the most addicted.

We now pass to some of the political action of the reign. In 1768, Sir Francis Dashwood, Chancellor of the Exchequer, proposed a new tax on cider and perry, amounting to ten shillings on the hogshead. Earl Stanhope states that the outcry was so vehement that a modification of the scheme was all that was granted, and four shillings were to be paid by the grower. In the Upper House the Bill was also strongly opposed, but the Ministry carried the point. Bute incurred much odium. People compared the rash disregard of popular opinion with which this measure was pushed through with the conduct of Sir Robert Walpole, who had bowed to the public demonstrations against his system of excise; and when Bute’s resignation was announced many ascribed his retreat to the alarm raised by the popular indignation. A caricature entitled, _The Roasted Exciseman; or, the Jack Boot’s exit_, represents the enraged mob burning the effigy of a Scotchman suspended on a gallows; a great worn boot lies on the bonfire, into which a man is throwing an excised cider barrel as fuel.

The City of London presented a petition against the tax at the bar of the House of Commons, but to no effect; and in the cider counties it was found hard indeed to enforce the duties imposed.

One of many lachrymations was Benjamin Heath’s _The Case of the County of Devon_, 1763. An address to honest English hearts, being an honest countryman’s reflections on the cider tax, 1763. Some plain reasons for the repeal of the cider tax, dedicated to every man who pays taxes, and particularly to the Honourable G---- J----, M.P. for Norfolk, &c., 1763. An address to the electors, such as are not makers of cider and perry, 1787.

The tax on beer, too, early in the reign, had greatly exasperated the mob. The _Royal Magazine_ tells that while their Majesties were at Drury Lane Theatre, to see the _Winter’s Tale_, as Garrick was repeating the lines:--

‘For you, my hearts of oak, for your regale,
Here’s good old English stingo, mild and stale,’

a fellow cried out of the gallery: ‘At threepence a pot, Master Garrick, or confusion to the brewers!’

Imposts on _malt_ were continually brought forward. The brewers as well as their clients were wild. Mr. Whitbread inveighed on one occasion against the Ministers for laying a _war tax_ upon malt. Sheridan, who was present, could not resist a shy at the brewer. He wrote on a paper the following lines, and handed them to Mr. Whitbread across the table:--

They’ve raised the price of table drink;
What is the reason, do you think?
The tax on _malt_’s the cause I hear--
But what has _malt_ to do with _beer_?

In 1791, the House of Commons was again induced to consider the question, and a committee came to the resolution: ‘That the number of persons empowered to retail spirits should be greatly diminished,’ &c. Certain Acts were passed, encouraging the rival trade of the brewers. _Grocers were prohibited from selling drams in their shops_, &c. The Speaker of the House, in his speech at the bar of the Lords, March, 1795, and in an address delivered on presenting the Bills of Supply, which received the unanimous thanks of the Lower House, thus referred to the excellent result of even these small measures, and at the same time enunciated a pregnant political truth. After alluding to the increased prosperity and resources of the country, and to some measures for decreasing the sale of spirits, he observes: ‘Satisfied, however, that those resources and that prosperity _cannot be permanent without an effectual attention to the sobriety of the people, their morals and peaceable subordination to the laws_, they have, by an arrangement of duties which promises also an increase of revenue, relieved the brewing [trade] from all restriction of taxes, so as to give it a decided advantage over the distilling, and thereby discourage the too frequent and immoderate use of spirituous liquors, _a measure which must conduce to sobriety, tranquillity, and content_, and under which the people, encouraged in regular industry, and the consequent acquisition of wealth, must feel the blessings,’ &c., of good government.

Under the dark days that followed, from 1795 to 1800--days of rebellion at home and revolution abroad--_this_ subject was lost sight of, unhappily for the interests of all. The Acts which had initiated so much good, were allowed to expire, discouragement to the use of spirits ceased, grocers were again allowed to dispense the drug to women and families, and debauchery rioted and revelled as before.[229]

In 1796, among the next taxes introduced, was an additional duty of twenty pounds per butt on wine. Discontent ensued. Pitt’s alleged propensity furnished the material for satire. Gillray represented him under the character of Bacchus, and his friend Dundas under that of Silenus, in a caricature entitled _The Wine Duty, or the Triumph of Bacchus and Silenus_. John Bull, with empty bottle and empty purse, and with long face, addresses his remonstrance: ‘Pray, Mr. Bacchus, have a bit of consideration for old John; you know as how I’ve emptied my purse already for you, and it’s woundedly hard to raise the price of a drop of comfort, now that one’s got no money left for to pay for it!’

Among the taxes of 1799 was one upon beer, which would have the effect of raising the price of porter to fourpence the pot, and which would most affect the working classes. The Tory satirists pretended to sympathise most with the Whig Dr. Parr, a great porter drinker. Gillray published a sketch of the supposed _Effusions of a Pot of Porter_, or ‘ministerial conjurations for supporting the war, as lately discovered by Dr. P----r, in the froth and fumes of his favourite beverage.’ A pot of four-penny is placed on a stool, from the froth of which arises Pitt, mounted on the white horse, brandishing a flaming sword. The Doctor’s reverie is a satire on the innumerable mischiefs which popular clamour laid to the charge of the Minister:--

Fourpence a pot for porter! Mercy upon us! Ah! it’s all owing
to the war, &c. Have not they ruined the harvest? Have not they
blighted all the hops?

Wine was manufactured in England at this period. Sir Richard Worsley tried the experiment of an _English vineyard_. He planted the most hardy species of vine in a rocky soil at St. Lawrence, Isle of Wight, and engaged a French vine-dresser. He achieved a success, but only temporary. He abandoned the project. A certain Mr. Hamilton attempted the same at Painshill, on a soil of gravelly sand. His first attempt at red wine failed. He then turned his attention to white wine, in which he tells Sir E. Barry, the experiment surpassed his most sanguine expectations. Many good judges thought it better than any champagne they had ever drunk. Such an experience was certainly exceptional.

Faulkner (_Antiquities of Kensington_) quotes the following memorandum from the MS. notes of Peter Collinson:--

_October 18, 1765._--I went to see Mr. Roger’s vineyards at
Parson’s Green [at Fulham], all of Burgundy grapes, and seemingly
all perfectly ripe; I did not see a green, half-ripe grape in
all this quantity. He does not expect to make less than fourteen
hogsheads of wine. The branches and fruit are remarkably large, and
the wine very strong.

George IV. was born in 1770, and came to the throne in 1820. Intemperance, amidst other vices, was a feature of his moral career. The surroundings of his birth augured ill. Mrs. Draper, who attended the Queen with her two first children, was dismissed from her duties in consequence of her habitual inebriety. His proclivity very nearly cost him dear while yet a youth. At a dinner party at Lord Chesterfield’s house at Blackheath, the whole company drank to excess, and betook themselves to riotous frolic. One of the party let loose a big fierce dog, which at once flew at one of the footmen, tore one of his arms terribly, and nearly strangled a horse. The whole party now formed themselves into a compact body and assailed Towzer, who resolutely defended himself, and had just caught hold of the skirts of the coat of his Royal Highness, when one of the party by a blow on the head felled the dog to the ground. In the confusion, however, the Earl of Chesterfield fell down the steps leading to his house, and severely injured the back of his head. The Prince, who scarcely knew whether he had been fighting a dog or a man, jumped into his phaeton, and there fell asleep, leaving the reins to his uncle, the Duke of Cumberland, who took him safely to town.[230]

The Prince was a member of the Catch and Glee Club at the Thatched House Tavern. He is (says Huish) the reputed author of the second verse to the glee of the _Happy Fellow_, ‘I’ll ne’er,’ &c.; and of the additional verse to the song, ‘By the gaily circling glass,’ which he used to sing in his convivial moments with great effect. Nothing more distinctly points to the ineradicable nature of his diseased habit, than his conduct upon the arrival of his bride-elect--Caroline of Brunswick. Lord Malmesbury, the sole witness, tells the story:--

I ... introduced the Princess Caroline to him. She very properly
attempted to kneel to him. He raised her (gracefully enough) and
embraced her, said barely one word, turned round, retired to a
distant part of the apartment, and, calling me to him, said:
‘Harris, I am not well; pray get me a glass of brandy.’ I said:
‘Sir, had you not better have a glass of water?’ upon which he,
much out of humour, said with an oath: ‘_No_; I will go directly to
the Queen.’

The remark of the princess to Malmesbury, was: ‘Mon Dieu, est-ce que le Prince est toujours comme cela?’

Lord Holland has stated that at the wedding the Prince had drunk so much brandy, that he could scarcely be kept upright between two dukes. The reckless extravagance of the Prince involved him in pecuniary straights:--

Not a farthing could be raised on the responsibility of any of
his immediate associates; the whole of the party were actually in
a state of the deepest poverty; and Major Hanger, in the history
of his life, mentions a circumstance in which he, Sheridan, Fox,
_an illustrious individual_, and a Mr. Berkeley, repaired to a
celebrated tavern then known by the name of the Staffordshire
Arms, where after carousing with some dashing Cyprians who were
sent for on the occasion, the combined resources of the whole of
the party could not defray the expenses of the evening. On this
occasion, Sheridan got so intoxicated that he was put to bed, and
on awakening in the morning, he found himself in the character of a
hostage for the expenses of the previous night’s debauch.[231]

It must, however, be admitted, that when once upon the throne, he had the rare capability of uniting dignity with hilarity. An incident in connection with a public _toast_ is worthy of narration. When the King visited Scotland, a banquet was given by the Lord Provost of Edinburgh in the Parliament House. The King, in returning thanks for the reception given him, said:--

I take this opportunity, my Lords and Gentlemen, of proposing the
health of the Lord Provost, _Sir_ William Arbuthnot, _Baronet_, and
the Corporation of Edinburgh.

Thus did the King confer the baronetcy upon the president. A complication of disease terminated his reign in 1880.

The Public-house Regulation Act of 1758 was in force till 1828, when a consolidating Act was passed, with an appeal to justices in quarter sessions.

Its chief provisions are:--

1. Licences to be granted _only from year to year_, at a special
session of magistrates; with power of applicant to appeal to the
quarter sessions in case of refusal of licence: and the refusing
justices not to vote there.

2. Applicants for licence to affix notice of their intention of
applying, on the door of the house, and of the church of the parish
in which it is situated, for three prior Sundays, and serve a copy
on one of the overseers and one of the peace officers.

3. In case of actual or apprehended tumult, two justices may direct
the publican to close his house: disobedience to be esteemed as
disorder.

4. The licence stipulates that the publican shall not adulterate
his liquors, _or allow drunkenness, gaming, or disorder_; that he
shall not suffer persons of notoriously bad character to assemble
therein; and that he shall not, _save to travellers_, open his
house during Divine Service on Sundays and holy-days.

5. Heavy and increasing penalties for repeated offences against
the terms and tenor of the licence; magistrates at sessions being
empowered to punish an alehouse-keeper, convicted by a jury of a
third offence, by a fine of 100_l._, or to adjudge the licence to
be forfeited.

The Distillery Act of 1825 requires notice.

By the enactment of 1825, no person can obtain a _licence_ for conducting a distillery, unless he occupies a tenement of the value of 20_l._ a year, pays parish rates, and resides within a quarter of a mile of a market town containing 500 inhabited houses. Before obtaining a licence, the amount of which is 10_l._, he must lodge with the collector, or other officer of excise, an entry or registry of his premises, the several apartments and utensils, specifying the contents of the vessels and the purposes for which they are intended; and every such room and utensil must be properly labelled with its appropriate name and object. With the registry must be delivered a drawing, or description of the construction, use, and course of every fixed pipe in the distillery, as well as of all casks and communications therewith connected. Pipes for the conveyance of worts or wash must be painted red, those for low wines or feints, blue; those for spirits, white; for water, black. No still can be licensed of a less content than 400 gallons, nor can the distiller make spirits at the same time from different materials. The distiller must give notice of the gravity at which he intends to make his wort. These are specimens only of the conditions imposed. Before this enactment, distillation was confined to a few capitalists; but, with a view of encouraging a fair competition in the trade, and inducing the people to take the spirits directly from the distillers, the Act was passed.

The drink temperature was maintained throughout all classes of society. Charles Knight gives an apt description of a Christmas in London in 1824:--

The out-door aspects of London enjoyment at Christmas were not
unobserved by me. Honestly to speak, it was a dismal spectacle.
In every broad thoroughfare, and in every close alley, there was
drunkenness abroad; not shamefaced drunkenness, creeping in maudlin
helplessness to its home by the side of the scolding wife, but
rampant, insolent, outrageous drunkenness. No decent woman even in
broad daylight could at the holiday seasons dare to walk alone in
the Strand or Pall Mall.

The stronger spirituous liquors were all the rage; and it was under the impression that by making beer, &c., more readily accessible, there would be less demand for the fire-water, that the Beerhouse Act was passed, of which we shall soon speak. But before doing so, let us recall the names of one or two who ranged themselves on the side of temperance.

James Montgomery writes:--

Many might be profited by the resolute perusal of the ‘Confessions
of an Opium Eater’ with self-application, for every habitual
indulgence of appetite beyond what nature requires or will endure
for the health of body or mind is a species of opium-eating. Such
cordials, exhilaratives, and stimulants are generally, in the
first instance, resorted to as lenitives of pain, reliefs from
languor, or resources in idleness; they soon become necessary
gratifications, affording little either of pleasure or of pain
in the use (though non-indulgence is misery) till in the sequel
they grow into tyrannous excesses that exhaust the animal spirits,
debilitate the mind, and consume the frame with disease which no
medicine can reach. The drunkard in this sense is an opium-eater;
he puts an ‘enemy into his mouth that steals away his senses,’ and
the fool’s paradise, into which liquor transports him, lies on
‘the broad way that leadeth to destruction.’ The snuff taker and
the tobacco smoker in this sense are opium-eaters; these luxuries,
as well as eating and drinking, may be enjoyed in moderation,
but where does moderation end and abuse begin? That fine line of
distinction was never yet traced with assurance, and the only
safety lies many a league on the right side of it. The Indian weed
may be less promptly deleterious than the Asiatic, but in this
country it is scarcely a question that the former destroys more
victims than the latter.

Sydney Smith writes thus to Lady Holland, in 1828:--

Many thanks for your kind anxiety respecting my health. I not
only was never better, but never half so well; indeed, I find I
have been very ill all my life, without knowing it. Let me state
some of the goods arising from abstaining from all fermented
liquors. First, sweet sleep; having never known what sweet sleep
was, I sleep like a baby or a plough-boy. If I wake, no needless
terrors, no black visions of life, but pleasing hopes and pleasing
recollections: Holland House, past and to come! If I dream, it is
not of lions and tigers, but of Easter dues and tithes. Secondly, I
can take longer walks, and make greater exertions, without fatigue.
My understanding is improved, and I comprehend political economy,
I see better without wine and spectacles than when I used both.
Only one evil ensues from it: I am in such extravagant spirits
that I must lose blood, or look out for some one who will bore or
depress me. Pray leave off wine:--the stomach is quite at rest; no
heartburn, no pain, no distention.

In 1824 Carolina Nairne, _née_ Carolina Oliphant, became Baroness Nairne, her husband, Major Nairne, being restored to a barony granted to his family in the time of Charles I.

She appears to be the first writer of a thorough teetotal song. It was entitled _Haud ye frae the cogie_.

There’s cauld kail in Aberdeen,
There’s custocks in Stra’bogie;
And morn and e’en they’re blythe and bein
That haud them frae the cogie.
Now haud ye frae the cogie, lads:
Oh, bide ye frae the cogie!
I’ll tell ye true, ye’ll never rue
O’ passin by the cogie.

Young Will was braw and weel put on,
Sae blythe was he and vogie;
And he got bonnie Mary Don,
The flower o’ a’ Stra’bogie.
Wha wad ha’e thocht at wooin’ time,
He’d e’er forsaken Mary,
And ta’en him to the tipplin’ trade
Wi’ boozin’ Rob and Harry?

Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat,
She scarce could lift the ladle;
Wi’ pithless feet, ‘tween ilka greet,
She’d rock the borrow’d cradle.
Her weddin’ plenishin’ was gane--
She never thocht to borrow;
Her bonnie face was waxin’ wan--
And Will wrought a’ the sorrow.

He’s reelin’ hame ae winter’s nicht,
Some later than the gloamin’;
He’s ta’en the rig, he’s missed the brig,
And Bogie’s o’er him foamin’.
Wi’ broken banes, out ower the stanes,
He creepit up Stra’bogie,
And a’ the nicht he prayed wi’ micht
To keep him frae the cogie.

Now Mary’s heart is light again--
She’s neither sick nor silly;
For auld or young, nae sinfu’ tongue
Could e’er entice her Willie;
And aye her sang through Bogie rang--
‘O haud ye frae the cogie;
The weary gill’s the sairest ill
On braes o’ fair Stra’bogie.’

King William IV. (1830-1837) rigidly practised temperance. Indeed he zealously promoted it before his accession to the throne. One incident may serve as an illustration. On the death of the keeper of Bushy Park, the King, then Duke of Clarence, appointed the keeper’s son to succeed him. This young man broke his leg, a circumstance which elicited the practical sympathy of the Duke. After his recovery, the young man took to drinking; so the Duke, in order to cure him of the propensity, required his attendance every night at eight o’clock, and if he appeared in liquor reprimanded him the following morning. But all to no purpose. The infatuated keeper died from the effects of intemperance.

The King however was fond of giving _toasts_ after dinner, when his prosy speeches were notorious.

The following specimen of toasts at a public banquet is taken from that given on the occasion of the opening of London Bridge.

As soon as the royal visitors had concluded their repast, the Lord
Mayor rose, and said: ‘His most gracious Majesty has condescended
to permit me to propose a toast. I therefore do myself the high
honour to propose that we drink His Most Gracious Majesty’s Health,
with four times four.’ The company rose, and, after cheering him
in the most enthusiastic manner, sang the national anthem of ‘God
save the King.’ His Majesty bowed to all around, and appeared to be
much pleased.

Alderman Sir Claudius Hunter then rose, and said: ‘I am honoured
with the permission of his Majesty to propose a toast. I therefore
beg all his good subjects here assembled to rise, and to drink that
‘Health and every Blessing may attend Her Majesty the Queen.’’
Which was accordingly done, with the utmost enthusiasm.

The Lord Mayor then presented a gold cup, of great beauty, to
the King, who said, taking the cup: ‘I cannot but refer, on this
occasion, to the great work which has been accomplished by the
citizens of London. The City of London has been renowned for its
magnificent improvements, and we are now commemorating a most
extraordinary instance of their skill and talent. I shall propose
the source from whence this vast improvement sprung, ‘The Trade and
Commerce of the City of London.’’

The King then drank what is called the ‘loving cup,’ of which every
other member of the Royal Family present most cordially partook.

His Majesty next drank the health of the Lord Mayor and Lady
Mayoress, for which his lordship, in a few words, expressive of the
deepest gratitude, thanked his Majesty. The chief magistrate soon
after was created a Baronet.

Prominent amongst the legislative beacons of the present century is the famous _Beer Act_ of 1830. Spirit drinking was terrible; a remedy was sought; the expedient adopted was the Beer Act.

At the Middlesex Sessions, held on Thursday, January 21, 1830, Mr. Serjeant Bell alluded to the increase of the consumption of gin as a dreadful and horrible evil. A year ago there were 825 inmates in the Middlesex Pauper Hospital, but now the number was between 1,100 and 1,200, the increase being mainly attributable to the practice of gin drinking. Sir George Hampson said that the gin-shops were now decorated and fitted up with small private doors, through which women of the middle, and even above the middle classes of society, were not ashamed to enter, and take their dram, when they found they could do so unobserved. Sir Richard Birnie bore testimony to the dreadful prevalence of drunkenness in the Metropolis: _there were 72 cases brought to Bow Street on the Monday previous_, for absolute and beastly drunkenness, and what was worse, _mostly women, who had been picked up in the streets_, where they had fallen dead drunk: but while he deplored the enormity of the evil, he declared that it was difficult to find any remedy for it.

Hoping to do good by substituting beer for spirits, an Act was passed in the 1st Will. IV., ‘to permit the general sale of beer and cider by retail in England.’ The following are its main provisions:--

1. That any _householder_ desirous of selling malt-liquor, by
retail, in any house, may obtain an excise licence on payment of
two guineas, and for cider only, on paying one guinea.

2. That a list of such licences shall be kept at the Excise office,
open to the inspection of the magistrates.

3. That the applicant must give a bond, and find surety for the
payment of penalties incurred.

4. Penalty for vending wine and spirits, 20_l._

5. In case of riot, magistrates can command the closing of the
houses.

6. Penalties for disorderly conducting of the house.

7. Not to open before four A.M., and to close at ten P.M., and
during Divine Service on Sundays and holy-days.

How did it work? How did it operate upon the consumption (1) of beer, (2) of spirits? During the ten years preceding the passing of the Beerhouse Act, the quantity of malt used for brewing was 268,139,389 bushels: during the ten years immediately succeeding, the quantity was 344,143,550 bushels, showing an increase of 28 per cent. During the ten years 1821-1830, the quantity of British spirits consumed was 57,970,963 gallons, and during the next ten years it rose to 76,797,365 gallons, an increase of 32 per cent. All this clearly proved that the increased facilities for getting beer created a greater demand for spirits. During the year following the Act, more than 30,000 beer-shops were opened in England and Wales. In Sheffield, as one instance, 300 beer-shops were added to the old complement of public-houses; and it is especially to be noted that before the second year had transpired, 110 of the keepers of these houses had applied for _spirit_ licences to satisfy the desire for ardent drinks.

On the motion of the Marquis of Chandos, April 18, 1833, it was ordered in the House of Commons ‘That a select committee be appointed to inquire into the state and management of houses in which beer is sold by retail under the Act 1st Will. IV., cap. 64, commonly called beer-shops, and with a view to making such alterations in the law as may tend to their better regulation, and to report their observations, together with their opinion thereon.’ Thirty-two members were appointed as the committee, and April 22, ten others were added to it. The committee sat April 24, 26, 30, May 1, 3, 7, 8, 10, 14, 15, 17, 20, 21, 22, 24. The witnesses examined were in number 59, among whom were A. Magendie, late Assistant Poor Law Commissioner: A. Crowley (brewer of Alton), magistrates, magistrates’ clerks, beer-sellers, farmers and others. The Marquis of Chandos presided at most of the sittings of the committee. The committee’s report, dated June 21, 1833, contains fifteen resolutions, of which the first was:--‘That it is the opinion of the committee from the evidence that has been adduced that considerable evils have arisen from the present management and conduct of beer-houses.’ The other resolutions expressed the committee’s opinion that every applicant should produce a certificate of good character signed by six rated inhabitants of the parish or township (not beer-sellers)--the certificate to be signed by the overseer or assistant overseer, as a proof that the six persons named were rated inhabitants; that, besides other penalties, magistrates should be able on a second conviction to suspend licences for two years or less--a third offence to involve a disqualification for three years; that beer-houses should be closed till half-past twelve on Sunday, that the hours of keeping open at night should be extended in towns and restricted in country districts; and in the last resolution the committee ‘suggest the revisal of the system under which all beer and spirit shops are licensed, and (without expressing a decisive opinion on this extensive subject) your committee feel that very serious reasons of justice and public advantage may be adduced in favour of the assimilation of all the regulations as to hours and management to which every description of house licensed to sell beer or spirituous liquors by retail should be subjected.’ No legislation was superinduced upon this report.[232]

In 1834 Mr. Buckingham moved ‘that a select committee be appointed to inquire into the extent, causes, and consequences of the prevailing vice of intoxication among the labouring classes of the United Kingdom, in order to ascertain whether any legislative measures can be devised to prevent the further spread of so great a national evil.’

This committee, composed of some of the most eminent members of the House, including the late Sir Robert Peel, sat for upwards of twenty-one days receiving evidence. The official report tendered a number of recommendations for repressing the manufacture, importation, and sale of alcoholic liquors, showing that this national disease of drunkenness stood in need of sharp and speedy remedies; and that the administration of these remedies was clearly within the province of the Legislature.

The report is much too long for transcription; but the principles they lay down are worthy of all acceptation.

(1) That the _right_ of legislative interference for the correction of any evil which affects the public weal, cannot be questioned.

(2) That the _power_ to apply correction by legislative means cannot be doubted, without supposing the better portion of the community unable to control the excesses of the ignorant and disorderly, which would be to declare our incapacity to maintain the first principles of government by ensuring the public safety.

(3) That the _sound policy_ of applying legislative power to direct, restrain, or punish the vicious propensities of the evil disposed, cannot be disputed, without invalidating the right of government to protect the innocent from the violence of the guilty, which would in effect declare all government to be useless; an admission that would undermine the very first principles of society.

Then follow what they propose as:--

_Immediate Remedies, Legislative and Moral._

The separation of the houses in which intoxicating drinks are sold
in four distinct classes. (1) Houses for the sale of beer only--not
to be consumed on the premises. (2) Houses for the sale of beer
only--to be consumed on the premises, and in which refreshments
of food may also be obtained. (3) Houses for the sale of spirits
only--not to be consumed on the premises. (4) Houses for the
accommodation of strangers and travellers, where bed and board may
be obtained, and in which spirits, wine, and beer may all be sold.

The limiting the number of such houses, of each class, in
proportion to population in towns, and to distances and population
in country districts: the licences for each to be annual, and
granted by magistrates and municipal authorities rather than by the
excise; to be chargeable with larger sums annually than are now
paid for them, especially for the sale of spirits; and the keepers
of such houses to be subject to progressively increasing fines for
disorderly conduct, and forfeiture of licence and closing up of the
houses for repeated offences.

The closing of all such houses at earlier hours than at present,
and for the most part uniformly with each other. The first and
second classes of houses, in which beer only is sold, to be closed
on Sunday, except for one hour, afternoon and evening; the third
class of houses, where spirits only are sold, to be entirely closed
all Sunday; and the fourth class, as inns or hotels, to be closed
to all visitors that day, save only travellers and inmates.

The making all retail spirit-shops as open to public view as
provision shops.

The refusal of retail spirit licences to all but those who would
engage to confine themselves exclusively to dealing in that
article: and consequently the _entire separation_ of the retail
sale of spirits _from groceries_, provisions, wine or beer, except
only in inns.

The discontinuance of all issues of ardent spirits (except
medicinal) to the navy and army, &c., and the substitution of
articles of wholesome nutriment. The abolition of all garrison and
barrack canteens, and the substitution of some other and better
mode of filling up the leisure of men confined within military
forts and lines: the opinions of most of the military officers
examined on this point by your Committee being that the drinking in
such canteens is the most fertile source of all insubordination,
crime, and consequent punishment inflicted on the men.

The withholding from the ships employed in the merchant service
the drawback granted to them on foreign spirits, by which they are
now enabled to ship their supplies of that article at a reduced
scale of duty, and are thus induced to take on board a greater
quantity than is necessary, to the increased danger of the property
embarked, and to the injury of the crew. The prohibition of the
practice of paying the wages of workmen at public-houses, or any
other place where intoxicating drinks are sold.

The providing for the payment of such wages to every individual his
exact amount, except when combined in families: so as to render
it unnecessary for men to frequent the public-houses, and spend a
portion of their earnings to obtain change.

The payment of wages at or before the breakfast hour in the
mornings of the principal market-day in each town, to enable the
wives or other providers of workmen to lay out their earnings in
necessary provisions at an early period of the market, instead of
risking its dissipation at night in the public-house.

The prohibition of the meetings of all friendly societies, sick
clubs, money clubs, masonic lodges, or any other permanent
associations of mutual benefit and relief at public-houses, or
places where intoxicating drinks are sold; as such institutions,
when not formed expressly for the benefit of such public-houses,
and when they are _bonâ fide_ associations of mutual help in the
time of need, can, with far more economy and much greater efficacy,
rent and occupy for their periodical meetings equally appropriate
rooms in other places.

The establishment, by the joint aid of the Government and the
local authorities and residents on the spot, of public walks, and
gardens, or open spaces for athletic and healthy exercises in the
open air, in the immediate vicinity of every town, of an extent,
and character adapted to its population; and of district and parish
libraries, museums, and reading rooms, accessible at the lowest
rate of charge; so as to admit of one or the other being visited
in any weather, and at any time; with the rigid exclusion of all
intoxicating drinks of every kind from all such places, whether in
the open air or closed.

The reduction of the duty on tea, coffee, and sugar, and all the
healthy and unintoxicating articles of drink in ordinary use; so
as to place within the reach of all classes the least injurious
beverages on much cheaper terms than the most destructive.

The encouragement of Temperance Societies in every town and village
of the kingdom, the only bond of association being a voluntary
engagement to abstain from the use of ardent spirits as a customary
drink, and to discourage, by precept and example, all habits of
intemperance in themselves and others.

The diffusion of sound information as to the extensive evils
produced to individuals and to the State, by the use of any
beverage that destroys the health, cripples the industry, and
poisons the morals of its victims.

The institution of every subordinate auxiliary means of promoting
the reformation of all such usages, courtesies, habits and customs
of the people, as lead to intemperate habits; more especially the
exclusion of ardent spirits from all places where large numbers
are congregated either for business or pleasure, and the changing
the current opinion of such spirits being wholesome and beneficial
(which the frequent practice of our offering them to those whom we
wish to please or reward so constantly fosters and prolongs) into
the opinion of their being a most pernicious evil, which should on
all occasions be avoided, as poisoner of the health, the morals,
and the peace of society.

The removal of all taxes on knowledge, and the extending every
facility to the widest spread of useful information to the humblest
classes of the community.

A national system of education, which should ensure the means of
instruction to all ranks and classes of the people, and which,
in addition to the various branches of requisite and appropriate
knowledge, should embrace, as an essential part of the instruction
given by it to every child in the kingdom, accurate information
as to the poisonous and invariably deleterious nature of ardent
spirits, as an article of diet, in any form or shape; and the
inculcation of a sense of shame at the crime of voluntarily
destroying, or thoughtlessly obscuring that faculty of reasoning,
and that consciousness of responsibility, which chiefly distinguish
man from the brute, and which his Almighty Maker, when He created
him in His own image, implanted in the human race to cultivate, to
improve, and to refine--and not to corrupt, to brutalise, and to
destroy.

_Ultimate or Prospective Remedies._