A fearful example If all that hath been said hitherto, be not sufficient to withdraw us from this beastly vice of drunkenness: yet let us set before our eyes this most fearful judgment of God, executed upon a sort of drunkards, the story whereof is this. The eighth day of February 1578 in the country of Swaben, there were dwelling eight men, citizens, and citizens' sons, very riotously and prodigally inclined, the names of whom, for the better credit of the story, I have set down, viz. Adam Giebens, George Kepell, John Keisell, Peter Hersdorse, John Waganaer, Simon Henrickes, Herman Fron, Jacob Hermans, all which would needs go to the tavern upon the Sabbath day in the morning very early, in contempt of the Lord and his Sabbath. And coming to the house of one Anthony Hage, an honest, godly man, who kept a tavern in the same town, called for burnt wine, sack, malmsey, hippocras and what not. The host told them, that they should have none of all these, before the divine service and the sermon time were past, and counselled them to go hear the sacred word of God preached. But they (save Adam Giebens, who advised them to hear the sermon, for fear of God's wrath) denied, saying: That they loathed that kind of exercise. The good host, neither giving them any wine himself, nor suffering any other, went to the sermon, as duty did bind him, who being gone, they fell to cursing, banning, and swearing, wishing that he might break his neck, or ever he came again from the sermon; and bursting forth into these intemperate speeches, "The Devil break our necks, if we depart hence this day, either quick or dead, till we have had some wine!" Straightway, the Devil appeared unto them, in the likeness of a young man, bringing in his hand a flagon of wine, and demanding of them why they caroused not, he drank unto them, saying: "Good fellows, be merry, for ye shall have wine enough, for you seem lusty lads, and I hope you will pay me well," who inconsiderately answered, that they would pay him, or else they would gage their necks, yea their bodies and souls, rather than to fail. Thus they continued swilling, gulling, and carousing so long, as till one could not see another. At the last the Devil their host, told them, that they must needs pay the shot, whereat their hearts waxed cold. But the Devil comforting them, said: "Be of good cheer, for now must you drink boiling lead, pitch and brimstone with me in the pit of hell for evermore." Hereupon immediately he made their eyes like flames of fire, and in breadth as broad as saucers. Then began they to call for mercy, but it was too late. And ere they could call again for mercy and grace, the Devil prevented them, and break their necks asunder, and threw most horrible flames of fire, flashing out of their mouths. And thus ended these seven drunkards their miserable days, whose judgment I leave to the Lord. The other Adam Giebens, who counselled them before to go to hear the sermon, having some sparks of faith in him, was preserved from death, by the great mercy of God, and greatly repented his former life, yielding praise unto God for his deliverance. Thus have I in sempiternam rei memoriam, faithfully recorded the story of these eight drunkards, and of their fearful end, taken out of the Dutch copy printed at Amsterdam, and at Strasbourg, for a caveat to all drunkards, gluttons, and riotous persons throughout the whole world, that they offend not the Lord in the like kind of offence. PHILIP STUBBES, The Anatomie of Abuses 1583 (2nd ed.) Ale-houses Here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour. 2 Henry VI., II. iii. 63 Mistress Quickly. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers. Falstaff Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking: and for thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these fly-bitten tapestries. 2 Henry IV., II. i. 156-163 If these houses have a box-bush, or an old post, it is enough to show their profession. But if they be graced with a sign complete, it's a sign of good custom. In these houses you shall see the history of Judith, Susanna, Daniel in the lions' den, or Dives and Lazarus painted upon the wall. It may be reckoned a wonder to see or find the house empty, for either the parson, churchwarden, or clerk, or all are doing some church or court business usually in this place. They thrive best where there are fewest it is the host's chiefest pride to be speaking of such a gentleman, or such a gallant that was here, and will be again ere long. Hot weather and thunder, and want of company are the hostess's grief, for then her ale sours. Your drink usually is very young, two days old: her chiefest wealth is seen, if she can have one brewing under another: if either the hostess, or her daughter, or maid will kiss handsomely at parting, it is a good shoeing-horn or birdlime to draw the company thither again the sooner. She must be courteous to all, though not by nature, yet by her profession; for she must entertain all, good and bad, tag and rag, cut and long-tail. She suspects tinkers and poor soldiers most, not that they will not drink soundly, but that they will not pay lustily. She must keep touch with three sorts of men; that is, the malt-man, the baker, and the justice's clerks. She is merry, and half mad, upon Shrove Tuesday, May days, feast days, and morris-dances: a good ring of bells in the parish helps her to many a tester; she prays the parson may not be a puritan: a bagpiper, and a puppet-play brings her in birds that are flush, she defies a wine tavern as an upstart outlandish fellow, and suspects the wine to be poisoned. Her ale, if new, looks like a misty morning, all thick; well, if her ale be strong, her reckoning right, her house clean, her fire good, her face fair, and the town great or rich, she shall seldom or never sit without chirping birds to bear her company, and at the next churching or christening, she is sure to be rid of two or three dozen of cakes and ale by gossiping neighbours. DONALD LUPTON, London and the Countrey carbonadoed 1632 credit and apology. A tavern is a degree, or (if you will) a pair of stairs above an alehouse, where men are drunk with more If the vintner's nose be at door, it is a sign sufficient, but the absence of this is supplied by the ivy bush. breathed, like the drinkers that have been The rooms are ill washed well over night, and are smelt too fasting next morning....It is a broacher of more news than hogsheads, and more jests than news, which are sucked up here by some spongy brain, and from thence squeezed into a comedy. Men come here to make merry, but indeed make a noise, and this music above is answered with the clinking below. The drawers are the civilest people in it, men of good bringing up, and howsoever we esteem of them, none can boast more justly of their high calling. 'Tis the best theatre of natures, where they are truly acted, not played, and the business, as in the rest of the world, up and down, to wit, from the bottom of the cellar to the great chamber. A melancholy man would find here matter to work upon, to see heads as brittle as glasses, and often broken. Men come hither to quarrel, and come hither to be made friends; and if Plutarch will lend me his simile, it is even Telephus his sword that makes wounds and cures them. It is the common consumption of the afternoon, and the murderer or maker away of a rainy day. It is the Torrid Zone that scorches the face, and tobacco the gun-powder that blows it up. Much harm would be done, if the charitable vintner had not water ready for these flames. A house of sin you may call it, but not a house of darkness, for the candles are never out, and it is like those countries far in the north, where it is as clear at mid-night as at mid-day....To give you the total reckoning of it: it is the busy man's recreation, the idle man's business, the melancholy man's sanctuary, the stranger's welcome, the Inns of Court man's entertainment, the scholar's kindness, and the citizen's courtesy. It is the study of sparkling wits, and a cup of canary their book, where we leave them. JOHN EARLE, Micro-cosmographie 1628 Shakespeare and Ben Jonson at the Mermaid Tavern Many were the wit-combats betwixt him and Ben Jonson ; which two I behold like a Spanish great galleon and an English man-of-war. Master Jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning; solid, but slow, in his performances. Shakespeare, with the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention. THOMAS FULLER, English Worthies 1662 The Sobriety of the English (two views) lago. Some wine, ho! Some wine, boys! And let me the canakin clink, clink; A soldier's a man; A life's but a span; Why then let a soldier drink. Cassio. 'Fore God, an excellent song. Iago. I learned it in England, where indeed they are most potent in potting; your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander,— drink, ho-are nothing to your English. Othello, II. iii. 71–82 For the point of drinking, the English at the feast will drink two or three healths in remembrance of special friends, or respected honourable persons, and in our time some gentlemen and commanders from the wars of Netherland brought in the custom of the Germans' large carousing, but this custom is in our time also in good measure left. Likewise in some private gentlemen's houses, and with some captains and soldiers, and with the vulgar sort of citizens and artisans, large and intemperate drinking is used; but in general the greater and better part of the English, hold all excess blameworthy, and drunkenness a reproachful vice. FYNES MORYSON, Itinerary 1617 B. Tobacco A tobacco-seller Is the only man that finds the good in it which others brag of, but do not; for it is meat, drink, and clothes to him. No man opens his ware with greater seriousness, or challenges your judgment more in the approbation. His shop is the rendezvous of spitting, where men dialogue with their noses, and their communication is smoke. It is the place only where Spain is commended and preferred before England itself. He should be well experienced in the world; for he has daily trial of men's nostrils, and none is better acquainted with humours. He is the piecing, commonly, of some other trade, which is bawd to his tobacco, and that to his wife, which is the flame that follows this smoke. JOHN EARLE, Micro-cosmographie 1628 |