‘I must say, [I’m] quite sober, considering the house we were at, though undoubtedly the worse for drinking, having, I believe, contracted a slight impediment in my speech, occasioned by the fumes of liquor operating too furiously on my brain’
Thomas Turner’s wonderful eighteenth century diary wittily illustrates Georgian attitudes towards drink and its associated excesses. Many musicians suffered from the same inability to resist the pleasures and social appeal of alcohol, and the lifestyle of the player easily lent itself to frequent drinking. John Grano was said to suffer from the brass player’s ‘addiction‘, however he appears to have been equally captivated by tea. Abraham Adcock endured severe gout for a major part of his life and drink may have contributed to his illness.
The ordinary village folk, as represented by shopkeeper Thomas Turner, engaged in long and immoderate drinking sessions:
Wednesday, 22 Feb 1757
‘About four p.m., I walked down to Whyly. We played at bragg the first part of the even. After ten we went to supper on four boiled chicken, four boiled ducks, minced veal, sausages, cold roast geese, chicken pasty, and ham. Our company Mr. and Mrs. Porter, Mr. and Mrs. Coates, Mrs. Atkins, Mrs. Hicks, Mr. Piper and wife. Joseph Fuller and wife, Tho. Fuller and wife, Dame Durrant myself and wife, and Mr. French’s family. After supper our behaviour was far from that of serious, harmless mirth; it was down right obstreperous, mixed with a great deal of folly and stupidity. Our diversion was dancing or jumping about, without a violin or any musick, singing of foolish healths, and drinking all the time as fast as it could be well poured down; and the parson of the parish was one among the mixed multitude.
‘If conscience dictates right from wrong, as doubtless it sometimes does, mine is one that I may say is soon offended; for, I must say, I am always very uneasy at such behaviour… About three o’clock, finding myself to have as much liquor as would do me good, I slipt away, unobserved, leaving my wife to make my excuse. Though I was far from sober, I came home, thank God, very safe and well, without even tumbling; and Mr. French’s servant brought my wife home, at ten minutes past five’.
Thursday, Feb. 25.
‘This morning about six o’clock just as my wife was got to bed, we was awakd by Mrs. Porter, who pretended she wanted some cream of tartar; but as soon as my wife got out of bed, she vowed she should come down. She found Mr. Porter, Mr. Fuller and his wife, with a lighted candle, and part of a bottle of wine and a glass. The next thing was to have me down stairs, which being apprized of, I fastened the door. Up stairs they came, and threatened to break it open; so I ordered the boys to open it, when they poured into my room; and, as modesty forbid me to get out of bed, so I refrained; but their immodesty permitted them to draw me out of bed, as the common phrase is, topsy-turvey; but, however, at the intercession of Mr. Porter, they permitted me to put on my ______, and, instead of my upper cloaths, they gave me time to put on my wife’s petticoats; and in this manner they made me dance, without shoes and stockings, untill they had emptied the bottle of wine, and also a bottle of my beer…
‘About three o’clock in the afternoon, they found their way to their respective homes, beginning to be a little serious, and, in my opinion, ashamed of their stupid enterprise and drunken perambulation….’
Sunday, March 3.
‘We had a good a sermon as I ever heard Mr. Porter preach, it being against swearing’.
Tuesday, March 7.
‘We continued drinking like horses, as the vulgar phrase is, and singing till many of us were very drunk, and then we went to dancing and pulling wigs, caps, and hats; and thus we continued in the frantic manner, behaved more like mad people than they that profess the name of Christians’.
Friday, March 17.
‘Now I hope all revelling for this season is over; and may I never be decomposed with so much drink, or by the noise of an obstreperous multitude, but that I may calm my troubled mind, and sooth my disturbed conscience’.
Extracts from Diary of a Sussex Tradesman, a Hundred Years Ago by R. W. Blencowe and M. A. Lower
Text can be found at http://theweald.org
