When my great grandfather Benjamin Hall died in 1936 (a wealthy man with a huge wine cellar) his two dreary sisters came to the funeral from their home in Mid-Wales. The fact that they were coke-heads (i.e.cocaine addicts) did not stop them from being teetotal (in other words they had “taken the pledge” to abstain from alcohol. Never a drop of the demon drink did pass their lips, but then, from all reports they were generally stoned out of their minds anyway…).
The story goes that after the funeral they traipsed back to the family home and set to with a fervent zeal, destroying every single bottle of wine to be found in the cellars. The whole lot was opened and poured down the drain.
I tell the story to indicate that the family may be weird, but we are not all the same! But what I like about the 18th Century is that it was a century of excess, not of moderation. The Temperance Movement really didn’t get going until 1833 when the word ‘teetotal’ was coined, and then had a renewed lease of life in the 1880’s. But none of their killjoy activities impinged upon the century which saw Hogarth rail against Gin, (as in Gin Lane) but condone and promote the consumption of beer (as in Beer Street). The earliest cartoon I can find giving a temperance view of the world is this one from 1828. It is entitled “The two fishermen : a dedication to the temperance society” and is by A Ducôte. It appears on the Lewis Walpole Library site.
On the left, under the banner of Habitual Drunkenness, the fisherman is in a spot of bother: his kids are fighting, his front door is falling off its hinges, his wife is embracing another man, and he has caught a fish marked ‘Sickness’. He cries out “The Devil”. Other fish in the sea are identified as Starvation, Hatred, Murder, Malice, Discontent ,Seduction, Rebellion, Atheism, Beggary and Enormous Taxation.
Contrast this unhappy scene with the prosperous happy family on the right blessed with Constant Sobriety, catching fish for their dinner. The waters abound with such delights as Civil and Religious Liberty, Peace & Quietness, Chastity, Happiness, Health, Wealth, Moderate Taxation, Cheap Bread and Contentment.
Just in case we haven’t got the message, the man on the left fishes in Gin, and on the right the supercilious young man with two ghastly children fishes in Water. The moral to me is quite clear: if you want ghastly kids and cheap bread, try being abstemious; if you want a bit of fun before you die, take another slug from the bottle.
For my distant ancestor Richard Hall, being a devout Baptist never seemed to prevent him from enjoying a prodigious quantity of wine (his tipple of choice). But he also brewed beer, and cider, as well as bringing a quarter Pipe of Port down from London whenever supplies ran short.
Late 18thCentury wine bottles – courtesy of Christies.com
But where I find his stamina truly remarkable is where he lists his household expenses for 1797 (when he was 68 years old). His account books show that he was spending roughly three times the amount on wine as he did on taxation. Way to go, Richard!
Earlier this year I was fortunate enough to stay at the lovely Arizona Inn at Tucson. The dining area, somewhat dark and cavernous, was transformed into a warm, glowing, welcoming room by one thing: the tables were all set with water glasses made of cobalt blue. Here in Britain it is generally known as ‘Bristol Blue’. It gave some idea of the effect that introducing blue glassware must have had when it came into vogue in the last couple of decades of the Eighteenth Century. From decanters to wine glasses, from display dishes to glass coolers and finger rinsing bowls, they must have glittered and amazed in the flickering candle-light.
So I have written a book. Not a very long one, but packed with full-colour photographs to give an idea of the beautiful rich translucent blue.
Anyway, a harmless hobby, and I brought the book out on Amazon where you can find it 
The site gives the explanation:
An intriguing fellow, was Francis Burdett. Born on 25th January 1770 in Wiltshire, he was the grandson of the Baronet of Foremark. He was educated at Westminster School and Oxford University and after completing his education, he did what was expected of him – he went off on his Grand Tour through Europe. Back he came in 1793 and soon married Sophia Coutts, the daughter of the banker, Thomas Coutts. Her dowry was a staggering £25,000, making young Francis a very rich man. In 1797 Coutts purchased the rotten borough of Boroughbridge from the Duke of Newcastle for £4,000; he gave the seat to his ambitious son-in-law and Francis became an independent MP.
