Monday 28 January 2008

The English Alehouse.

Peter Clark’s social history of the alehouse in English society raises questions about the position of the alehouse in society. Prior to the Glorious Revolution the position of the alehouse had been seen by the Elites as the home of trouble and dissent. It was frequented by the lower ends of society and the haven for violence and vice. Respectable society tended to stay away from them and targeted them for suspicion and repression.

However by the turn of the century the perception of the alehouse had undergone a change, spurred by the increasing wealth and respectability of its clientele. The workers' wages were increasing so the worker had more to spend in the alehouse, but these more financially stable workers were a less fertile ground for the dissent and trouble the elites feared and were thus a less threatening crowd. Landlords were increasingly more respected as a role in society and licensing was making them economically important figures. As wage-work became more common and regulated in society the alehouse also began to become a vital part of that culture. The popular practice of “drink tax” that existed in many work environments demonstrated the growing trend; any new purchase or happy event in a workers life would be allowed by his work colleagues only if it was accompanied by him buying drinks for them all.
The alehouse had, through social and economic change, garnered a degree of respectability.

There is an argument therefore that this respectability attached to the alehouse and its fasted growing new product “porter” (something between a Stout and a mild to today’s pallets and powerfully strong) would provide a stark contrast to the rise of gin and its less respectable retailers. If alehouses were acceptable to society then anything that subverted that would be unacceptable. There can be no argument that the main retailers of gin were of a distinctly less affluent and respected place in society and it is inevitable that they and their cheaper and courser product would lack the respectability of the alehouse. But to what extent is the disreputable nature of gin due, not to its own faults or societies dislike of its results, but due to it being seen in comparison to the more acceptable English alehouse?

Friday 25 January 2008

“Stop thief!”

Whilst reading Robert Shoemaker’s excellent book The London Mob I was idly distracted thinking about the interaction between the public and law enforcement. On witnessing a crime we are told the early 18th century common man would get involved to apprehend the criminal. Without an external policing force there was a group responsibility to enforce law and order, the hue and cry was not just an obligation but something people actively took part in without considering not to. There was perhaps an unspoken (or possibly spoken) understanding that if a man came to the aid of another when he was the victim of crime then people would come to his aid.

By the end of the century at the very least a paid watch was in place in most large towns and cities and the City of London had something approaching a police force. There are already reports that people choose not to apprehend criminals themselves but instead seek out the authorities or even expect that they will deal with it and let crime occur. Perhaps this change is related to the sense of externality of the police. Now that there is a separate body doing the task the people feel they have lost their role within it, they are now separated from the law-enforcement process. Or perhaps it is more connected with the financial relationship, they are paying people to perform this task thus they should ensure they get there money’s worth and not perform their task for themselves.

Certainly we can all see that by the early 21st Century we are a long way from the form of community law enforcement of the 18th. Most people would not consider stepping in to stop a crime and suspect that if they did they would risk some form of lawsuit from the criminal or the state. We have become completely divorced from the process. Our relationship between that authority we put in place in the late 18th Century and the common man has changed dramatically to a point of some-time opposition.

Of course it is easier in some ways to understand that sense of opposition and oppression that the police are often perceived to represent when we compare them, not to early police forces, but to the army. After all the 18th Century tool of control and defense against unrest was the troops. Since the civil war there had been something akin to a standing army and it served as a tool to prevent the ever present dangers of the mob. The sheer speed at which troops appeared whenever Londoners rioted through the century (and there were very many) demonstrated their purpose as tools of social control. The fact this continued well into the early 19th Century (consider Peterloo) suggests it would be a long time before the police took on this role. They were the tools of law enforcement which had replaced the hue and cry, the roaming magistrate and the mob bent on securing criminals. “Stop thief!” had become a cry to summon the authorities rather than a mob.
However they were not yet the tool of social oppression they would become in some eyes, the troops still held that role and would continue to into the 20th Century.

Creation

I had a realisation the other day.

Our academic minds work so radically different from our everyday thoughts. They cross over easily but when I randomly debate historical theory on the street people look at you somewhat strange, to make matters worse half the time I’m only debating with myself and this can lead to people backing slowly away.

So it suddenly made sense to ensure I had a place to secure my everyday academic ramblings that was separate from my everyday ramblings.

“Gin and Conflict” because of a comment made that this was the content of my final year as an undergraduate. Somewhere in the ground between Eighteenth Century Gin addicts and Twentieth Century Middle Eastern Conflict is my degree and my specialty, I’m sure I’ll find it one of these days.