SIGNS OF THE TIMES

Evening Star, Issue 22442, 12 September 1936, Page 2

SIGNS OF THE TIMES

[Written by L.R.,- for. the’ ‘Evening Star.’] ' Lured by cleverly-worded advertisements, gorgeous window displays, and hashing "Neon signs, visitors to London in these days inevitably spend hours shop gazing and shop rambling. During these pilgrimages they have the services of store guides, electric lifts, tfie comfort of central heating, electric light and daylight to order, telephones in getntable places, and thick carpets to walk upon. If they choose they can purchase anything from a packet of pins to a freehold house without budging from one particular store. Nevertheless, it being the nature of the human to grumble, they return home full of complaints. The liit swooped ” too much. The shop assistants were “ dumb,” or the tea they Lad on the roof-garden was cold, and that girl in the hairdressing department didn’t “ set ” Aunt Maud’s perm ” so well this time. Poor dears! What a life. I imagine them shopping a few hundred years hack when England; was truly' “ a nation of shopkeepers,” and 'Ldndpn , a picturesque, bat ill-lit * and : smelly, muddle of wooden houses and, cobbled, narrow streets—when, vendor and purchaser could neither, read nor .write, and when shops, houses, , inns, and alleys were only .distinguished by signs. In those days' if the housewife wanted a pound of.steak she had to gather up her skirts and ' pick her J way throu'gh .the dirty cobbled sfreete until dhe fcaTnd ■to a house displaying >• dleaver. The grocer was advertised ■ by • -three gilt sugar loaves; the-tailor by a pair of shears; the milliner by a fan; the feather shops displayed aq ostrich, and if you contemplated purchasing a horse you stumbled about until ‘ 'you r spied the stuffed head of one eyeing you from a doorpost, and so-.on, Before the Great Fire;'these signs were usually painted on wood, andi'wer© of all imaginable colours, designs, and sizes, each shopkeeper trying’ his hardest to outdo his neighbour in these particulars, till at last pedestrians com-

plained of the inconvenience and danger caused by them. An inglorious death seems always to have been the fate of the pedestrian. Picture the poor creature battened out by . an unhinged sign instead of a Ford van! Eventually the pedestrians’ complaints reached the ears of Charles Tl., who, in 1667, “ ordered that in all the streets no signboard shall hang across, but that the sign shall be fixed against the balconies, or some convenient part of the side of the house.” -

After that many were carved in stone and built ‘into the brick fronts of the new houses, but_by. 1762 the nuisance had started again, and another order was made that the too prominent ones should be cleared away. - - - Partly because of this, and the fact that houses began to he numbered, m the eighteenth century tl;e old custom came to an end, but in the Guildhall a few of. the signs have been preserved, and although, few people realise it, ‘one or two remain in use to-day. For instance, it is difficult to travel far in London without noticing at some coiner the swaying sign of the pawnbroker. These three gilded balls are alleged to be derived from the ■ armorial bearings of the Medici family, who were amongst’the richest of the merchants from Lombardy who started banking’ and money-lending in England. The Lombardy ..bankers exercised a monopoly in pawnbroking until the reign of Elizabeth, and to-day the centre -of banking is still Lombard street, where these first bankers set up in the Middle Ages. Many hairdressers ’in England display ‘a red, white, and "blue wand known as the “ barber’s pole.” This is a relic of the days when barbers were also surgeons, < and ■ practised phlebotomy or “ bleeding,”-which was supposed to be a cure for most ailments. The patient undergoing treatment. was supposed to grasp the pole to help' the blood flow more freely, and as it was" liable to get stained it was painted. i;ed, , When not in us© it was hung -outside, the .door with white linen bands twisted round - it, while from a knob at the end - dangled- a pewter or brass lathering bowl which had a notch cut in : its flm to fit the throat of the customer, who came to be shaved. The two spiral ribbons, now painted upon the pole represent t’-e bandages, one of which was used • twisting round the arm before the operation, and the other for binding. The barbers were united with the surgeons in 1540, and in their City Hall still hangs, a picture ’ painted by Holbein of Henry VIII. granting their charter. .... Of course, scienec has ousted them from their high position, and they are no longer “ surgeons,” but the following verse shows that a spot of dentistry was once indulged in, too;

His pole with pewter basons hung, Black, rotten teeth in order strung, Ranged cups that in the window stood, Lined with red rags to look like blood, Did well his threefold trade explain, Who shaved, drew teeth, and breathed a vein;

The last barber-surgeon in London is said to have- been a man named Middleditch, of Great Suffolk street, who died in 1821. Other signs with which we are familiar to-day are the coloured glass jars of the' Chemist, the cow or calf over the dairy, the black boy of the tobacconist, the paint jar of the cplourman’s store, and the flue brush exhibited by the chimney sweep. In the Strand an umbrellamaker still hangs an Open parasol above his door, but 1 am afraid it swings to and fro practically unnoticed. It is the age of mass production and departmental stores., “Umbrellas, Modom? Third floor. Going up. Fourth floor, millinery, trimmings, ladies’ underwear, sportswear, lawn mowers. Travel bureau to the right. Going up.”