The _Goat and Compasses_ is supposed to be a corruption of a motto set up over inns during the period of puritan tyranny, “God encompasses us”; _Bag of Nails_ of “Bacchanals.” In default of better explanations we must accept these. Until recently a public house existed in St. James’ Street, called the _Savoy Weepers_--a name which might open up an endless mystification if we did not know that the house was previously occupied by the _Savoir Vivre_ Club. The _Goose and Gridiron_ is, according to the _Tatler_, a parody of the favourite trade-mark of early music houses, the _Swan and Harp_; while the _Monster_ in Pimlico may have been the monastery inn, built during the time that the monks of Westminster Abbey farmed this estate.
_Why Not_, and _Dew Drop Inn_ are, of course, invitations to the wayfarer; _Bird in Hand_ and _Last House_, or _Final_, suggestion that he should not waste his opportunities to imbibe.
In the village of Sennen, Cornwall, is one of the best known inns, having for its sign the _First and Last_, which is quite obviously not intended as a limit to the drinker. It has reference, of course, to the fact that if you should be journeying to the south-west the inn will be the _last_ one you will meet with before reaching the sea, whereas it will be the _first_ should your journey be by ship coming eastward. As a matter of actual experience, hundreds of ships which in the course of a year “pick up” the light at Land’s End have not been in sight of a public-house for months, during which they have been crossing thousands of miles of ocean. So that in the case of sailors working these particular vessels the name of the inn has a very appealing significance.
He would be a bold man who would venture to assert positively which is the best-known inn in London; but if the map be consulted, the _Elephant and Castle_ will be seen to occupy a position at the junction of several great roads to the south, and if the volume of traffic which must daily go past the doors is considered, it needs very little more to convince most people that the _Elephant_ is probably better known by name at all events, than any other public-house within the four-mile radius of Charing Cross. In coaching times the inn was passed by every traveller bound for the south-east, and some authorities have contended that when Shakespeare recommended that “In the south suburbs at the _Elephant_ is best to lodge,”[14] he had in his mind the celebrated hostelry of Newington Butts. But this is probably a mistake, for the _Elephant and Castle_ did not come into existence until long after Shakespeare’s time. In 1658, the ground upon which it now stands was not built upon, but probably the first inn on the site came into existence about twenty years later. In 1824, the inn was rebuilt, and since then there have been many additions and alterations which have got farther and farther away from the original building as it was in the seventeenth century. The _Elephant and Castle_, as far as the antiquarian is concerned, is now merely a curious name. Another extremely rare sign in London is the _Sieve_, which as late as 1890 stood in the Minories. In 1669 there was a _Sieve_ in Aldermanbury, but more is known of the one in the Minories. It was referred to in the “Vade Mecum for Malt Worms,” 1715, and was then considered one of the oldest and most noted public-houses of London. It adjoined Holy Trinity Church. Underneath were crypt-like cellars which may originally have had connection with the adjoining convent of the nuns of St. Clare. In the records of the Parish of Holy Trinity, which was all included within the ancient precincts of the convent, there is mention of the appointment of a “vitler to the parish.” On February 13th, 1705, is a record of a vestry meeting at the _Sieve_ “about agreeing to pull down the churchyard wall.” On this occasion so serious was the discussion that as much as six shillings was spent in refreshments before the matter was settled. A good deal of speculation on the origin of the name of this old inn has been indulged in, one solution being that the chalk foundations in the crypt may have suggested the sign. The Metropolitan Railway Company acquired the property, and closed the house in 1886, before its final disappearance four years later.