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' Death made no conquest of this man, 
For now he lives in fame, though not in life." 


Cries of London. 

Alilk below. 



frost, or snow, or hot 


I travel up and down. 

The cream and milk you buy 

Here 's round and sound, j^ ^^^^ in ^H t,,g ^^^.^ 

Black and white heajt chcrnes, ^^^ custards, puddings, or for t 

Two-i)ence a pound. -ph^.^e 's none like those 

buy of me. 

Here 's oranges nice ! 

At a very small price, 
I sell them all two for a jienny. 

Ripe, juicy, and sweet, 

Just fit for to eat. 
So customers buy a good many, 

Cn/in/>liiig Codlings. 

Come, buy my Crumpling C( 


Buy all my Crumplings 

Some of them you may eat ra 

Of the rest make dumpling: 

Or pies, or puddings, which y 


The dog he cut capers, and turned out his toes ; 

'Twill soon cure the vapours, he such attitude shows. 

The dame made a curtsey, the dog made a bow, 

The dame said, "your servant," the dog said, " bow wow." 

Now, my friends, you have here 
just printed and pub — lish— ed, the 
P'ull, True, and Particular account 
of the Life, Trial, Character, Con- 
fession, Condemnation, and Be- 
haviour, together with an authentic of the last t^mUl aVltf 

rf0tamrnt; or, dying 

Sri:F.CH, of tliat eccentric individual 
"Old Jemmy Catnach," late of 
tlie Sivnn Dials, printer, publisher, 
toy-book manufacturer, dying-speech ^ 
merchant, and ballad-monger. Here, 
you may read how lie was bred and bom the son of a printer, in the 
ancient Borough of Alnwick, which is in Northumberlandshire. How 
he came to London to seek his fortune. How he obtained it by 
printing and publishing children's books, the chronicling of doubtful 
scandals, fabulous duels between ladies of fashion, "cooked" 
assassinations, and sudden deaths of eminent individuals, apocryphal 
elopements, real or catch-penny accounts of murders, impossible 
robberies, delusive suicides, dark deeds and public executions, to which 
was usually attached the all-important and necessary "Sorrowful 
Lamentations," or, "Copy of Affectionate Verses," which, according 
to the established custom, the criminal composed, in the condemned 
cell, the night before his execution. 

Yes, my customers, in this book you '11 read how Jemmy Catnach 
made his fortune in Monmouth Court, which is to this day in the Seven 
Dials, which is in London. Not only will you read how he did make 
his fortune, but also what he did and what he didn't do with it after he 
had made it. Vou will also read how " Old Jemmy " set himself up as 
a fine gentleman : — 

James Catnach, Esquire, 

Dancer s I/ill, 

South Minims, 


And how he didn't like it when he had done it. And how he went 
back again to ilear old Monmouth Court, which is in the Seven Dials 
aforesaid. And how he languished, and languishing, did die — leaving 
all his old mouldy coppers behind him — and how, being dead, he was 
buried in 










Editor of "The Old Book Collector's Miscellany; or, a Collection of 

Readable Reprints of Literary Rarities," " IVor/cs of John Taylor — 

the Water Poet," ''The Roxbitrghe Ballads,'' ''The Catnach 

Press," "The Curiosities of St7-eet Literature," "The Book 

of Ready- Made Speeches," "Life and Adventures of a 

Cheap Jack," " Tavern Anecdotes &> Sayings," etc. 



196, STRAND, W.C. 

[All Rights of Translation and Reproduction are Reserved.^ 





The Market Place, 




• •; .'. A.LX\yii:K, : : 

• *•* In llie CouiftyoT. ,' 
.• : : ^•INttRTHVJipEHL^'ND,' '. 




Is most Respectfully 


As a slight acknowledgement of the several favours 
granted and assistance rendered to the 


during the progress of the Work 
through the Press. 


Rose Hir.i. Terrace, 

Januar>', 1878. 


"The Life and Times of James Catnach," owes its 
oni to the circumstance that, in .869. the co,np,ler of the 
p:rsent work pubhshed "The Catnach Press nd 
^guaranteed on,y "Two Hu.o.EO a. F.ex^^^ 

;Tr°^r^' -W-' ^.e oJl and descriptive 
title set forth that the work contained :— 

'<A •collection of Books and Wood-cuts of James Catnach 

a„ti-Be,vickian character it is possible to concave. 

The announcement of the puUication of the work was 

firlmade known through the medium of the nretropolttan 

P ss. some few days prior to the copies bemg dehvered by 

le bookbinders, and so great was the demand of the 

ondon and American trade, that every copy was disposed 
of on the day of issue. By many, the notice of pubUcation 
1 allowed 'to go unheeded, thinking, as "o^^- occurs, 
that such advertisement was only a n«, but they were 
doomed to dtsappointment, the publisher and editor rigidly 

adhered to their announced number of copies, and Mr. G. 
Rutland, the well known and extensive bookseller of 
Newcastle-upon-tyne, is of opinion that not one reached 
the North of England, the cradle and birthplace of the two 
Catnachs, and the brothers Bewick. The work is now 
eagerly sought after by book-collectors, who indulge in 
literary rarities. 

While engaged in collecting information for "The Catnach 
Press," and interviewing the producers of ballads, broadsides 
and chap-books, we met with a vast assemblage of street- 
papers and of a very varied character, which were 
afterwards published in 4to. form, and a limited number of 
copies under the title of: — 

"Curiosities of Street Literature: Comprising 'Cocks,' 
or 'Catchpennies,' a large and curious assortment of Street- 
Drolleries, Squibs, Histories, Comic Tales, in Prose and Verse, 
Broadsides on the Royal Family, Political Litanies,- Dialogues,' 
Catechisms, Acts of Parliament and Street Political Papers. A 
variety of 'Ballads on a Subject,' Dying Speeches and Confes- 
sions, to which is attached the all-important and necessary 
Aflectionate Copy of Verses." 

The work was published in 187 1, and is now out of print. 
In the meanwhile we have been collecting additional facts 
and scraps in respect to James Catnach's manners and 
customs, his birth, parentage, and education. In the 
early part of last year, we had the good fortune to get 
acquainted with Mr. George Skelly, of Alnwick— who, like 
ourselves, is possessed of the cacodhes scribendi, and was at 
the time supplying, con aviore, an article to a local journal, 
entitled " John and James Catnach," which we found to 
contain certain information relative to the elder Catnach, 
and also of the earlier portion of the life of James, of which 
we had no previous knowledge. At our solicitation to be 
allowed to make a selection from the same, we received a 
most courteous and gentlemanly letter, which, in addition to 

containing several pieces of information and answers to 
many queries we had put to Mr. Skelly, he wound up by 
saying : " You have full liberty to make use of anything 
that I have written, and it will afford me much pleasure if I 
can further your intentions in any way." 

From that date Mr. George Skelly continued to corres- 
pond with us on the subject of the "Two Catnachs," nearly 
up to the last moment of our going to press with our own 
" Life and Times of James Catnach," and to him we are 
greatly indebted for much of the information therein 

Mr. Skelly is fortunate, by his residence in Alnwick, in 
having the acquaintance and friendship of Mr. Mark Smith 
— James Catnach's fellow apprentice, Mr. Thomas Robertson, 
Mr. Tate, the local historian, and several other Almuick- 
Folk. And he has made the best possible use of the 
circumstances, as our own pages fully testify. 

To Mr. George H. Thompson, also of Alnwick, our 
thanks being due are hereby given, for the kind and ready 
manner in which he volunteered his services to aid and 
assist, to the best of his time and ability, in supplying all the 
information he possessd or could glean from his friends and 
[iccpiaintances in the good old borough of Alnwick, or the 
ounty at large. 

James Catnach, on his arrival in London, seems to have 
|ust fitted to the stirring times. The Peninsular wars had 
concluded, politics and party strife ran high, squibs and 
lampoons were the order of the day. The battle of 
Waterloo immediately followed, ''and there was mounting 
in hot haste," and a great scrambling for place and power, 
Dy all shades of politicians. In 1816, Princess Charlotte 
\ugusta, daughter of George, Prince Regent, afterwards 
jeorge IV., married Prince Leopold of Sa.xe Coburg, and 
iied in childbirth, in 18 17. In Spa Fields, London, about 
jo,ooo persons assembled to vote an address from the 

distressed manufacturers to the Prince Regent, on the 
15th of November, 181 6. A second meeting took place on 
December 2nd following, and terminated in an alarminu, 
riot ; the shops of several gunsmiths were attacked for arm- 
by the rioters, and in the shop of Mr. Beckwith, oia 
Snow Hill, Mr. Piatt was wounded, and much injury was done 
before the tumult was suppressed. For this riot, John 
Cashman, the seaman, was hanged in Skinner Street, i2tli 
March, 181 7. Watson, the ringleader, escai)ed to America. 
The Green Bag inquiry took its name from a Green Bag, full 
of documents of alleged seditions, laid before Parliament by 
Lord Sidmouth, February, 181 7. Secret committec^ 
presented their reports on the 19th of the month, and bill- 
were brought in on the 21st to suspend the Habeas Corpus 
Act, and prohibit seditious meetings then frequent. Mr. 
Henry Hunt, well known as the " Radical Reformer," was 
looked up to by many of his party as the fearless champion 
of their cause, and consequently kept the country in an 
unsettled state, particularly so in connection Avith the 
Manchester reform meeting, called the "Peterloo Massacre,'! 
which caused many political papers and virulent lampoons 
to be, from time to time, published for street sale. 1820 
opened with the death of the Duke of Kent and King 
George HI., and accession of George IV., followed by the 
Cato Street Conspiracy, winding up with the memorable 
trial of Queen Caroline ; all these circumstances, following 
as they did in such quick succession, tended very materially 
to cause fly-sheets and broadsides to be issued from the 
Seven Dials presses in general, and the " Catnach Press "i 
in particular, in enormous quantities. 

Many other circumstances — now matters of history,, 
caused Catnach to succeed in the peculiar line of business 
he had marked out for himself, and as his stock of presses] 
type, woodcuts, &c., continued to increase his ways and 
means became more and more easy and lucrative, until he 

ultimately retired from the business in favour of his sister, 
in 1838, when he purchased a house and grounds at Dancer's 
Hill, South Mimms, in the county of Middlesex ; but this 
secluded retreat was not the means of filling the glass of 
contentment in Jemmy's case ; nay, we now know to the 
contrary, and that he preferred more eagerly the active 
turmoil of business life and the streets of London, even 
though — 

" God made the country, and man made the town." 

Old Jemmy Catnach signally failed to find tongues in trees, 
books in running brooks, sermons in stones, or good in 
anything — "exempt from public haunt." 

During the progress of our work through the press we had, 
by special appointment, several interviews with, also letters 
from, Mr. John Morgan, a street author, and who may be 
said to be the oldest of his peculiar class. " I 'm the last 
one left of our old crew, Sir," he observed, during our 
conversation. He is now upwards of 70 years of age, and 
formerly wrote for " Old Jemmy " Catnach, with whose 
personal history he is well acquainted, and still continues to 
write for the " Seven Dials Press." In allusion to the Poet ! — 
Mr. John Morgan, the following article entitled " The Bards 
of the Seven Dials and their Effusions," was published in 
"The Town," 1839, a weekly journal, conducted by the 
late Mr. Renton Nicholson, better known as " Baron 
Nicholson," of Judge and Jury notoriety : — 

The Life and Death of John IVilliam IMarchant, who suffered 

the extreme penalty of the law, in front of the Debtor's door, 

Newgate, on Monday, July 8th, 1839, for the murder of Elizabeth 

Paynton, his fellow servant, on the seventeenth of May last, in 

Cadogan Place, Chelsea. By John Morgan. London : J. 

Catnach, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 

The work is a quarto page, surrounded with a handsome black border, 

' ' Take no thought for to-morrow, what thou shalt eat, or what thou 

shalt put on," says a certain writer, whose wisdom we all reverence, and 

then he adds " Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof "—a remark 
particularly applicable to the bards of Seven Dials, whose pens are kept 
in constant employment by the fires, rapes, robberies, and murders, 
which, from one year's end to the other, pi'esent them with a daily 
allowance of evil sufficient for their subsistence. But, at present, it is 
only one of these poets, "John Morgan," as he modestly signs 
himself, whom we are about to notice ; and as some of our readers may 
be curious to see a specimen of the poetry of Seven Dials, we shall lay 
certain portions of John Morgan's last effusion before them, pointing 
out the beauties and peculiarities of the compositions as we go along. 
After almost lawyer-like particularity as to dates and places, the poem 
begins with an invocation from the murderer in propria persona: . 

" Oh ! give attention awhile to me. 
All you good people of each degree ; 
In Newgate's dismal and dreary cell, 
I bid all people on earth farewell. " 

Heaven forbid, say we, that all the people on earth should ever get 
in Newgate, to receive the farewell of such a blood-thirsty miscreant. 

" John William Marchant is my name, 

I do confess I have been to blame. " 

And here we must observe that the poet makes his hero speak of his ! 
offence rather too lightly, as if, indeed, it had been nothing more than 
a common misdemeanour. 

" I little thought, my dear parents kind, , 

I should leave this earth with a troubled mind. " ( 

Now this is modest ; he is actually surprised that his parents are at all 
grieved at the idea of getting rid of such a scoundrel, and well he 
might be. 

" I lived as servant in Cadogan Place, 
And never thought this would be my case, 
To end my days on the fatal tree : 
Good people, pray drop a tear for me." 

There is a playfulness about the word " drop," introduced just here, 
after "the fatal tree," which, in our mind, somewhat diminishes the 
plaintiveness of the entreaty ; but we must not be hypocritical. 

" Upon a Friday, in the afternoon." 

There ! it was on that cursed unlucky day, Friday, on which the song 

tells us never to cut our nails, doubtless for fear we should meddle with 
a razor : — 

" I fdled the neighbourhood around with gloom; 
It was the fatal seventeenth of May 
I took my fellow-servants life away. 

Elizabeth Paynton, the servant maid, 
Of me was never in the least afraid : 
She never thought, with a deadly knife," 

Now, reader, mark the exquisite pathos of the concluding line : 

"John Marchant would take her life." 

*' If that isn't cutting," as the calf said to the butcher, " Blow me ! " 

" Towards this maiden, I do declare, 
No malice ever I once did bear ; 
The servants they all were gone from home, 
And me and Betsy was left alone." 

Now this is another little bit of playfulness ; for in the next verse we 

are told that Betsy was not " left alone," for that it was the unfortunate 

'outh's romping rudeness which made her threaten to report his 

•haviour to her master "when he came home," upon which says the 

invict : — 

" In rage and frenzy, away I flew 
And fetched the razor, as I tell you, 
And momently did vommit the deed, 
For which I die, as you plainly read. 
That the deed was done then I did not know 
Till her crimson blood did in torrents flow ; 
My eyes I cast on her crimson gore 
That in streams was flowing upon the floor." 

Upon which the criminal rushes off in a fright to Hammersmith, and 
om thence to Windsor, accompanied all the w.ay by Betsy's ghost, 
ho seems to have been quite as good a walker as he was himself. 
" Now every hour, as you shall hear, 
Appeared before me this maiden fair ; 
She would not leave me by night or day — 
Then to justice I gave myself straightway." 
.Taich seems to us, by-the-by, to have been getting out of the frying- 
kn into the fire ; but there is no telling what rashness a man in a panic 

will not be guilty of. Then comes his trial and condemnation, the 
account of which is most remarkably precise and pithy, 

" At the Old Bailey I was tried and cast, 
And the dreadful sentence on me was past 
On a Monday moniing, alas ! to die, 
And on the eighth of this month of July. " 

A marvellous particularity as to dates, intended, doubtless, to show 
the convicts anxiety that, although he died young, his name should live 
long in the minds of posterity. Tlien follows his farewell to father and 
mother, and an impudent expression of confidence that his crime will be 
forgiven in heaven, an idea, by-the-by, which is reported to have been 
confirmed by the Ordinary of Newgate, who told him that the angels 
would receive him with great affection ; and this it was, perhaps, 
which induced our bard of Seven Dials to represent his hero as coolly 
writing poetry up to the very last moment of his existence ; tHkiin' hi-; 
farewell of the public in these words : — 

" Adieu, good people of each degree. 
And take a warning, I pray, by me ; 
The bell is tolling, and I must go. 
And leave this "world of misery and woe." 

But we cannot exactly see what business the fellow — "a pampeijed 
menial," had to speak ill of the world, when he was very conifortaC b, 
off in it, and might have lived long and happily if it had not been l. 
his own wickedness ; a hint which we throw out for the benefit of .A[ Ir. 
John Morgan, in his future efifusions, trasting he will not make his herij s 
die grumly, when poetic justice does not require it. j 

But we must now take our leave, with a hearty wish to the wh; 
fraternity of Seven Dials bards, that they may never go without a dinr 
for want of the means of earning it, or that, in other words, thou 
they seem somewhat contradictory, " Sufficient unto the day may 
the evil thereof." 

Again, the writer of an article on " Street Ballads," in tl 
" National Review," for October, 1861, makes the follow 
remarks : — 

" This Ballad — ' Little Lord John out of Service' — is one of the fi 
which bear a signature— it is signed 'John Morgan ' in the copy wh 
we possess. For a long time we believed this name to be a mere no 
' -plume ; but the other day, when making a small purchase 
.Momnouth Court, we were informed, in answer to a casual qucsti 



that this is the real name of the author of some of the best comic 
ballads. Our informant added that he is an elderly, we may say old, 
gentleman, living somewhere in Westminster ; but the exact whereabouts 
we could not discover. Mr. Morgan followed no particular visible 
calling, so far as our informant knew, except writing ballads, by which 
he could not earn much of a livelihood, as the price of an original 
ballad, in these buying-cheaji days, has been screwed down liy 
publishers to somewhere about a shilling, sterling. Something more 
like bread-and-butter might be made, perhaps, by poets who were in the 
habit of singing their own ballads, as some of them do, but not Mr. 
Morgan. Should this ever meet the eye of that gentleman (a not very 
probable event, we fear), we beg to apologise for the liberty we have 
taken in using the vei-ses and name, and hope he will excuse us, having 
regard to the subject in which we are his humble fellow-labourers. We 
could scarcely avoid naming him, the fact being that he is the only 
living author of street-ballads whose name we know. That self-deny- 
ing mind, indifferent to worldly fame, which characterised the architects 
of our cathedrals and abl^eys, would seem to have descended on our 
ballad-writers ; and we must be thankful, therefore, to be able to 
embalm and hand down to posterity a name here and there, such as 
William of Wykeham, and 'John Morgan. In answer to our inquiries 
in this matter, generally, we have been told, ' Oh, anybody writes 
them,' and with that answer we have had to rest satisfied. But in 
presence of that answer, we walk about the streets with a new sense • of 
wonder, peering into the faces of those of our fellow-lieges who do not 
carry about with them the external evidence of overflowing exchequers, 
and saying to ourselves, 'That man may be a writer of ballads.' " 

We cannot close our self-imposed labour without remarking 
the many changes that have taken place during the time that 
our work has been going through the press, the most notable of 
which is the somewhat sudden and unexpected death, on the 
last day of 1876, of the Rev. Thomas Hugo, Rector of West 
Hackney, and author of the "Bewick Collector." His re- 
markable collection of wood-blocks and books, illustrated by 
the Brothers Bewick, was by far the largest ever formed, and 
contained some of the choicest proofs, in various states and 
on a variety of papers, and in many instances acquired 
vith great difficulty and at large cost, and at a time and 
vith opportunities that will never occur again. Mr. Hugo 

directed by his will that his entire collection should be 
offered to the British Museum, and this proposition was 
accordingly made, but declined on the ground that the 
national collection was already so well provided with 
" Bewicks," and would only be inconvenienced by acquiring 
so large a number of duplicates. Under these circumstances 
the whole of the choice and valuable collection was sub- 
mitted to public sale by those eminent and old-established 
auctioneers of literary property and works illustrative of the 
fine arts — Messrs. Sotheby, Wilkinson, and Hodge, of 
Wellington Street, Strand, London, on Wednesday, 8th of 
August, 1877, and following day, included 674, lots and 
realized ^1,124 is. od. 

At the sale of Mr. Hugo's literary property, we purchased 
several of the lots containing Bewick's wood-blocks, many 
of which we have , made use of in this work Had Mr. 
Hugo lived we should have had the benefit of his experience 
and the absolute use of his memoranda on the subject of 
street literature. 



tx^^'^^^y^'^^ ^"-tZ^^-i^ 

Death made no conquest of this man, 

For now he lives in fame, though not in life. 

JAMES — or as he was popularly called, " J^emmy,'^ or, 
" Old Jeininy " Catnach, late of the Seven Dials, 
London, prmter and publisher of ballads, battledores, 
lotteries, primers, &c., and whose name is ever associated 
with the literature of the streets, was the son of John Catnach, 
a printer, of Alnwick, an ancient borough, market town, and 
parish of Northumberland, where he was born August i8th, 
1792. The elder Catnach by himself, and afterwards in 
conjunction with his partner and subsequent successor, 
William Davison, employed Thomas Bewick, an English 
artist, who imparted the first impulse to the art of wood- 
engraving, for several of his publications. 

Of the early life of John Catnach, the father, we ha\e 
little information. He was born in 1769, at Burnt Island, a 


royal burgh and i,arish of Fifeshire, Scotland, where his 
father was possessed of some powder-mills. The family 
after^vards removed to Edinburgh, when their son James 
was bound apprentice to his uncle, Sandy Robinson, the 
printer. After having duly served out his indentures, he 
worked for some short time in Edinburgh, as a journeyman, 
then started in a small business of his own in Berwick-upon- 
Tweed, where he married Mary Hutchinson, who was a 
native of Dundee, a seaport-town in Scotland. While at 
Berwick a son and heir, John, was born. In 1790 they 
removed their business to Alnwick, and during their resi- 
dence there seven children were born to them : and from 
the Register of Baptisms in St. Michael's Church we glean 
that four of them were baptised at one time, viz., September 
24, 1797, and there described as " of John Catnach, printer, 
and Mary his wife : Dissenter. " [?] John Catnach had been 
brought up in the Roman Catholic faith, and his wife as a 
Presbyterian. The following is taken verbatim from the 
Parish Register:— 

Sep'- 24, 1797. 

Margaret, Daug-"- of John Catnach, printer, and Mar>' 
his Wife, Born Dec- 26'h 1790. Dissenter. 

James, son of John Catnach, printer, and Mary his A^^ife. 
Born August i8'h 1792. Dissenter. 

Mary, Daug^- of John Catnach, printer, and Mary, his 
AVife. Born February 26'h 1794. Dissenter. 

Nancy, Daug-"- of John Catnach, printer, and Mary his 
Wife. Born Sep-^ 2nci lyg^ Dissenter. 

May 23, 1798. 

ICli/abeth Catnach. Born March 21, 1797, 4»h Daughtei| 
of John Catnach, printer, native of Burnt Island, Shire ofi 
Fife, by his wife Mary Hutchinson, Native of Dundeei, 
Angus Shire, Scotland. } 

Dec^- 14, 179S. 

Isabella Catnach, Born Nov'- 2, 1798. 5''' Daughter ofl 


Jn"- Catnach, Stationer, Nat. of Scotland, by his wife, Mary 
Hutchinson, Nat. of Dundee, Angus Shire, Scotland. 

March 28, 1800. 

Jane Catnach, 6'^^ Daughter of John Catnach, printer, 
Native of Edinburgh (sic) by his wife Mary Hutchinson, 
Native of Dundee, Scotland. 

To the above we have to add that there were two sons — 
John, born to John and Mary Catnach. John I. who was 
born at Berwick-upon-Tweed, died August 27, 1794, aged 
5 years and seven months, and we find him duly recorded 
in the Register of Deaths. John H., whose name appears 
at the end of the inscription on a tombstone in Alnwick 
churchyard, and of which further mention will be made in 
another portion of our work, died, presumably unbaptized, 
March 5, 1803, aged 4 months. 

Alnwick, towards the close of the last century, had made 
little or no progress in sanitary reforms. The Castle, the 
ancient seat of the Percies, had but just been restored by 
the first Duke of Northumberland, according to the prevail- 
ing style of the times. The streets offered but few attractions ; 
they were badly paved, and the flagging of the footpaths was 
in a wretched condition ; they were lighted at nights by a 
few lamps of an antiquated description. At this time many 
of the feudal customs, which have since disappeared, were in 
great repute. The stocks, bull-baiting, cock-fighting, the 
kicking of football in the open streets, were always sure to 
draw together a gazing throng. At nights the streets were 
considerably enlivened by the strains of the borough waits.* 

* Wmts, according to Dr. Busby, is a corruption of IVayghtes 
(hautboys), a word which has no singular number. The word, he says, 
has been transferred from the instruments to the performers, who are in 
the habit of parading our streets by night, at Christmas time. 

There is scarce a young man of any fashion, who does not make love 
with the town music. The waits often help him through his courtship. 
— Tat Iff, No. 222. 

B 2 


Hautboys were anciently their musical instruments, but 
afterwards fiddles, with which they nightly serenaded the 
inhabitants between Martinmas and the end of January. 
Their ordinary dress consisted of blue coats, yellow breeches 
and vests, and their hats were usually decorated with a pro- 
fusion of lace. From 1770 to 1823 the family of Coward 
acted as waits, of whom Thomas Coward was the last of his 
race. Mr. Tate, the Alnwick historian, declared that although 
he had listened to Paganini, and other celebrated performers 
on the violin, none of their strains had such charms for him 
as the Border Airs when played by Thomas Coward. 

John Catnach was not long a resident before he became 
acquainted with many of the principal tradesmen in the 
place. Naturally he was of a free-and-easy disposition, and, 
like many of his kinsmen on the Borders, was particularly 
fond of the social glass. The latter practice he allowed to 
grow upon him in such a way that it ultimately interfered 
very much with his business, and hastened his death. 

The shop that he commenced business in. was situated in 
Narrowgate Street, and adjoining the old Half-Moon hostelry. 
In gaining access to the place you had to ascend a flight of 
steps. Whilst in this shop he secured a fair amount of 
patronage, and the specimens of printing that emanated from 
his press are of such a character as to testify to his qualifica- 
tions and abilities in the trade which he adopted as his 
calling. He possessed a fond regard for the traditions and 
customs which for centuries had been so closely associated 
with the Border country. 

When the printing press was first introduced into Alnwick 
is not exactly knoAvn ; but that it was considerably before 
the time of Catnach and Davison is certain. John Vint, the 
bookseller, and author of the " Burradon Ghost," for several 
years used TUt press for printing purposes in the town, and 
Thomas Lindsay carried on a similar business at a still 
earlier period. 


Although Almvick has not very greatly extended during 
the present century, yet the condition of its buildings and 
the general aspect of the town have undergone considerable 
changes. On the east side of the gate now entering into the 
Column field, stood the parish pound, and near to it the 
pump ; the former since removed to the Green Bat, and the 
latter down Denwick Lane. On the south side of the street, 
on the site of a portion of Dr. Easton's premises, stood John 
Weatherburn's thatched house, and behind was the large 
barn, occasionally used as a theatre, where the celebrated 
Stephen Kemble frequently appeared in the character of 
Falstaff before large and fashionable audiences, and the 
Duchess of Northumberland occasionally honoured the 
theatre with her presence. The bam was two stories 
high, the upper part being used as a hay loft ; the 
theatre beneath occasionally went by the name of " The 
Hay Market." . Behind the barn, which stood in the stack- 
yard, was a footway leading from the Green Bat into Love 
Lane. It was frequently so deep and miry as to be of little 
use to the public. Some distance farther down, lived a noted 
character called Billy Bone, whose house was the great 
rendezvous for that wandering tribe who had no settled resi- 
dences of their own. Mr. Bone, who, in the early period 
of his life, was a member of that community himself, was 
well acquainted with their habits, and his house was 
consequently the most popular of its class. It was 
capable of accommodating upwards of twenty guests, the 
uniform charge for each being threepence per night. As 
Mr. Bone was a noted player on the violin, the evening's 
amusements occasionally concluded with a dance, which was 
kept up with more vigour than elegance to a later hour than 
was consistent with the comforts of his neighbours. 

John Catnach had a great relish for printing such works 
as would admit of expensive embellishments, which, at the 
time he commenced business, were exceedingly rare. The 


taste he displayed in the execution of his work will be best 
exemplified in examining some of the printed editions of the 
standard works which emanated from his press ; and in no 
instance is this more characteristically set forth than in those 
finely printed books which are so beautifully illustrated by 
the masterly hand of Thomas Bewick and his accomplished 
and talented pupil, Luke Clennell. Notably among which 
are : — 

I. — "The Beauties of Natural History. Selected from 
Buffon's History of Quadrupeds, &c. Alnwick : J. Catnach, 
[n. d.] Circa 1795, i2mo., pp. 92. With 67 cuts by 

\a. — Another edition. Published and Sold by the Book- 
sellers. By Wilson and Spence, York, and J. Catnach, 
printer, Alnwick. (Price \s. 6d. sewed, or 2s. half-bound.) 

y.{.M£S CATXACIf. 7 

The embellishments of "The Beauties of Natural History" 
form an unique and valuable collection. They are very small 
and were done at an exceedingly low price, yet every bird and 
animal is exquisitely brought out in its minutest detail ; whilst 
many of the illustrations which served as "tail pieces" are 
gems of art. 

2. — "Poems by Percival Stockdale. With cuts by Thomas 
Bewick. Alnwick : Printed by J. Catnach. 1806." 

3. — ■"■ The Hermit of Warkworth. A Northumberland 
Ballad. In three Fits. By Dr. Thos. Percy, Bishop of 
Dromore. \Y\\.\\ Designs by Mr. Craig ; and Engraved on 
Wood by Mr. Bewick. Alnwick : Printed and Sold by J. 
Catnach. Sold by Lackington, Allan, and Co., London ; 
Constable and Co., Edinburgh ; and Hodgson, Newcastle. 
1806." The Arms of the Duke of Northumberland precedes 
the Dedication, thus: — 



Duchess of Northumberland, 

This Edition of 

The Hermit of Warkworth, 

Is respectfully Inscribed 

By Her Grace's Obliged and Humble Ser^'ant, 

J. Catnach. 
Alnwick, Octobcj; 1805. 

The illustrations of " The Hermit of Warkworth " are, 
upon the whole, very creditable, and are well calculated to 
enhance the value of the book, but as works of art some few 
of them fall far short of many of Craig or Bewick's other 
productions. The Northumberland Arms above, and rill the 
following original woodcuts, have been kindly lent by the 
Rev. Thomas Hugo, M.A., F.R.S.L., F.S.A., &c., the 
author of " The Bewick Collector," and possessor of the 
largest and most perfect collection of works illustrated by 
Thomas and John Bewick, together with the original wood 
blocks thereof, e\er formed. 


And now, attended by their host, 
The hermitage they view'd." 

Dark, was the night, and wild llic storm, 
And loud the torrent's roar ; 

And loud the sea was heard to dash 
A-ainst the distant shore. 


Musing on man's weak hapless state, 

The lonely hermit lay ; 
When, lo ! he heard a female voice 

Lament in sore dismay. 

With hospitable haste he rose, 
And wak'd his sleeping fire : 

And snatching up a lighted brand, 
Forth hied the reverend sire. 

With nothing but his hunting spear, 

And dagger in his hand. 
He sprung like lightning on my foes, 

And caus'd them soon to stand. 


He fought till more assistance came ; 

The Scots were overthrown ; 
Thus freed me, captive, from their bands, 

To make me more his own. 


4. — "The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius. In 
Two Parts. With some other Poems. By James Beattie, 
LL.D. With sixteen cuts from Designs by Mr. Thurston; 
and engraved on Wood by Mr. Clennell, Alnwick. Printed 
by Catnach and Davison. Sold by the Booksellers in Eng- 
land and Scotland. 1807. izmo. and Royal 8vo., pp. 142." 


"The Minstrel, by Beattie," is enriched by the masterly 
engravings of Clennell, and nothing can be finer than some 
of the productions of this far-famed artist. The general 
portraiture of each picture is characterised by a great amount 
of taste. Mr. Hugo, who possesses a very fine copy in half- 
morocco, says : " This is one of the most ambitious produc- 
tions of the Alnwick press," also adding, "It is asserted, and 
can hardly be denied, that Thomas Bewick had a hand in 
some of the cuts." 

5.— "The Grave. A Poem. By Robert Blair. To 
which is added Gray's Elegy. In a Country Church Y?rd... 
With Notes Moral and Explanatory. Alnwick : Printed by 
Catnach and Davison. Sold by the Booksellers in Englai id, 
Scotland, and Ireland. 1808. i2mo., pp. xiv., 72. Witl 
frontispiece and other cuts by Thomas Bewick." 










^ ^^9 











" Of joys departed, 
Not to return, how painful the remembrance ! 

6.—" The Poetical Works of Robert Bums. With his 
Life. Engravings on Wood by Bewick, from designs by 
Thurston. In two volumes. Alnwick : Printed by Catnach 
and Davison. Sold by the Booksellers in England, Scotland, 
and Ireland. i8o8." 

Many of the engravings produced for Bums' Poems, are of 
a very superior class, and cannot be too highly commended. 





"Sae wistfully she gaz'J on mc.'' 


John Catnach also printed and published a series of 
Juvenile Works, as The Royal Play Book: or, Children's 
Friend. A Present for Little Masters and Misses. The 
Death and Burial of Cock Robin, tS:c. Adorned with 
(X'TS. — Which in many cases were the early productions of 
Thomas Bewick. — Alnwick : Sold Wholesale and Retail by 
J. Catnach, at his Toy-Book Manufactory. 

After commencing business, John Catnach was very 
diligent in trying to establish a trade. That he succeeded 
in the enterprise there can be little doubt, but it is equally 
certain that he was never able to save anything from his 
labours. His ideas were considerably in advance of his 
means, and as his business began to increase, so in like 
manner he became more tenaciously wedded to his dissi- 
pated habits. 


Tn the year 1807, John Catnach took an apprentice — a 
lad named Mark Smith, of whom more anon ; a few months 
afterwards he entered into partnership with Mr. William 
Davison. The latter was a native of Newcastle-upon-1 yne, 
and in the place of his birth he duly served his apprentice- 
ship as a chemist and druggist to Mr. Hind, and for whom 
he ever cherished a fond regard. The union was not of 
long duration — certainly under two years-^but it is very 
remarkable that two such men should have been brought 
together, for experience has shown that they were both of a 
speculative mind, although in most other respects, morally 
and socially, the very opposite of each other. 

During the partnership of these two men, the respective 
trades of chemist and bookseller were carried on by them ; 
and when Mr. Davison was left to himself he still prose- 
cuted with vigour these two departments ; for, although 
reared to the prescribing of physics, he had a fine taste and 
relish for the book trade, and the short time that he was 
in partnership with Catnach enabled him to acquire a good 
amount of valuable information on this subject. Be this as 
it may, he soon laid the basis of a large and lucrative 
business. He certainly was no niggard in worldly matters, 
and when twitted, as he often was, about his new-fangled 
ideas, he would quaintly reply " that he had more pleasure 
in spending money than any in hoarding it up." 

It was about this same period that Mr. Davison published 
The Repository of Select Literature ; being an Elegant 
Assemblage of Curious, Scarce, Entertaining and Instructive 
Pieces in Prose and Verse. Adorned with beautiful 
Engravings by Bewick, &c. Alnwick : Printed by W. 
Davison. Sold by the Booksellers in England and Scotland. 
1808. This small work is a fine specimen of book making; 
its pages are adorned with some of Bewick's and Clennell's 
best impressions. In many of his small books the illustra- 
tions are admirably carried out. You will often find some 


of his fly sheets adorned by the i)rodiictions of some great 
master. There is one thnt we would particularly refer to, 
and that is "Shepherd Lubin." In size it is very small, but, 
like most of Bewick's pieces, sufficiently large to show the 
inimitable skill of the artist. The picture tells its own 
tale :— 

" Young Lubin was a shepherd's boy, 

Who watched a rigid master's sheep, 
And many a night was heard to sigh. 

And many a day was seen to weep." 

Lubin, a shejiherd boy, was sent adrift on a cold winter's 
night in search of a missing sheep. The storm was raging 
fast and furious. In the foreground of the picture is seen 
the lifeless body of the youth, lying upon the driven snow ; 
the trusty collie dog with his forepaw resting upon the head 
of his young master, and not far from them is also the dead 
object of their search. The storm has abated, but the 
ground is thickly covered with snow, and in the distance is 
seen an aged tree. The manipulation of the several figures 
is so forcibly portrayed, that it is impossible to look upon 
this small vignette without pleasure and admiration. 

The chemistry department in Mr. Davison's establishment 
was noted in the North of England. As a school for the 
study of medicine, it was remarkable for the many eminent 
men that emanated from it ; and it is pleasing to look back 
upon the names of not a few .who in after life became dis- 
tinguished in the various walks of science. Amongst the 
most celebrated may be instanced Dr. John Davison, Dr. 
William Davison, the late lamented Mr. Duncan Ferguson, 
Professor Thomas Strange\vays, Dr. William Brown, Dr. 
Thomas Call, Dr. William Armstrong, Mr. Robert Dunn, 
Mr. Philip Thornton, Mr. Hopper, Dr. Robert Heatley, 
Mr. Henry Hunter, &c. Messrs. Dunn and Thornton were 
with Mr. Davison about 1812, and both of them went to 


London, where they not only acquired eminence, but also 
amassed considerable fortunes. 

Mr. Davison was a man of quick discernment, and not 
ignorant of the wants and drawbacks which the sons of toil 
had to contend against. In those days it was only the few 
who could command an access to the treasured stores of 
literature, and even to them this was only accomplished with 
a great amount of labour and expense. Having all this in 
view, he was not slow in giving effect to ideas long matured ; 
and we find amongst some of his earliest works that he 
published a revised edition of "Mutton's Arithmetic." The 
work necessary in carrying it out in its full entirety was 
entrusted to the late Mr. James Ferguson, who for thirty-five 
years was the esteemed master of the Corporation Schools 
under the old regime. The author introduced into the 
work many considerable additions, and perhaps so signal a 
success never attended the publishing of any local work 
before. It soon established itself as a standard and house- 
hold work in the district, and almost countless were the 
editions that it passed through. 

One of the greatest undertakings of his life in the book 
trade was the issuing of a large Family Bible. Over this 
work he spent a great amount of money, and perhaps no 
other book that he was ever engaged in occupied so much 
of his time, but in a pecuniary point of view he must have 
been a heavy loser by the enterj^rise. A great amount of 
money was spent in getting up the plates, and the book 
failed in securing that success commensurate with the 
expense that had been lavished upon it. He also published 
a very finely illustrated Book of Common Prayer. 

In politics Mr. Davison was what is now termed a Liberal ; 
he had strong leanings to what was then known as the 
Progressive School. He took a great interest in the several 
contests in the county that occurred during his lifetime ; 
1826, 1841, 1847, and 1852 were memorable ei)Ochs in his 


life, and with the exception of '41 and '52 he pubHshcd Poll 
Books of the whole of the proceedings connected ^-ith the 
others. He was the means of bringing out many works of 
a local character, and one of the most remarkable was " The 
Life of Jamie Allen, the Northumbrian Piper." The only 
illustration in the book is a portrait of Allen. The principal 
part of the work was arranged by Mr. Andrew Wright, and 
contains many traits of the peculiar modes of the gipsy life. 
There are several amusing stories told about the manner in 
which the chief incidents contained in the work were 
collected. Many of the scenes, plots, and adventures, were 
obtained from the itinerant tribes of muggers, tinkers, and 
such like. It is now getting scarce, and as years roll on it 
will undoubtedly increase in value. In style it is inferior to 
that published a few years later by McKenzie and Dent ; 
but few works of a similar kind possess the quaint and rich 
peculiarities of a race that is fast disappearing from amongst 

There were few men w^ho took more pride than Mr. 
Davison did in bringing out young and unknown authors. 
During the fifty years that he was in business, he was instru- 
mental in inducing many to "write a book." He also 
assisted many others in bringing their labours before the 







The following may be adduced as some of the local works 
which he printed for their authors : " Poems, chiefli^ in the 
Scottish dialect," by Thomas Donaldson (this book is best 
known by the appellation of "Tam O' Glanton") ; " The Cave 
of Hoonga," and other poems by the late Miss Hindmarsh ; 
'' The Metrical Legends of Northumberland," by James 
Service ; " The Pleasures of Sight," and " Miscellaneous 
Poems," by John Lamb Luckley ; and " Wilkes' Newspaper 
1 'extracts." The whole of these are adorned with vignettes 
from the masterly hand of Bewick and others. But inde- 
pendent of these he printed many hundreds of pieces of a 
minor character, a great portion of which has now disappeared. 




During a great many years of his life he took a special 
interest in trying to cultivate a taste for the drama; not many 
knew more than he did of the numerous vicissitudes that 
accompany an itinerant life. Miller, in his " Life of a 
Showman," furnishes us with many instances of the sufferings, 
hardships, and wants, which the strolling player is ever 
heir to. Mr. Davison's frank and genial disposition was 
the means of bringing him into contact with many of this 
order,— Old Wright, William Palmer, IJilly Purvis, and 
George Fisher, together with others, always found ready 
access to him ; so that his house and shop at all times were 
very similar to what Willie Creech's was in Auld Reekie 
during the last century. 

Northumbrians have always taken a great interest in the 
fine arts, but their choice of subjects is very questionable. 
Mr. Davison possessed many blocks of a curious description. 
They are remarkable at this day in showing the class of 
jiictures that were wont to adorn the walls of many of the 
peasantry in this county at the commencement of the present 
century. Amongst some of the ludicrous pieces are to be 
found, "The Curate going out on Duty," "The Vicar's 
Return from Duty," " The Countryman in London," " Out of 
Place and Unpensioned," "The Stage Doctor," "Love in a 
Village," " Troubled with Gout," " Let us all be Unhappy 
together," "The Frenchman in Billingsgate." These pro- 
ductions were chiefly vended by chapmen, who attended 
fairs and markets. 

Mr. Davison possessed a very excellent impression of 
the engraving of the Chillingham Wild Bull. This has been 
generally admitted to be Bewick's masterpiece, and large 
sums have been paid for copies. For a very elaborate, 
exhaustive, and descriptive history of this Engraving, see 
Hugo, pp. 430 — 41. He had also a fine collection, com- 
prising brilliant impressions of the Lion, Tiger, and Ele- 
■-^iliant, of Bewick's, over which he was very choice. 


///•■/-; AXJ) TIMES OF 

ilieaiiid I la\ w hf ic llowei^ u tii." -.pi ms^ip.g. — /,!u m IWdu. 

c;iN AM) i!i I ri:Ks. 

J.IA/KS CA'rX.lC/f. rs 

Mr. Davison continued in business at AInwirk \\\\ to the 
time of his death, in 1858, at the iii)e age of 77. He was 
by far the most enterprising printer that had settled in the 
North of England. His collection of wood blocks was very 
large, and it is hardly possible to form an adecpate concep- 
tion of the many hundred of beautiful specimens which he 
possessed. He stated that he had paid Thomas Bewick 
upwards of five hundred pounds for various wood-cut blocks. 
With a view of disposing of some of his surplus stock, he 
]trinted and published in 4to., a catalogue. — "New Spfximens 
OF Cast-Metal Ornaments and Wood Types, Sold by 
W. Davison. Alnwick. With impressions of 1,100 Cast 
Ornaments and Wood Blocks, many of the latter executed 
by Thomas Bewick." This catalogue — now^ exceedingly 
rare— is of the greatest interest and utility, as it embraces 
a series of cuts dispersed, as Mr. Hugo plainly shows, among 
a considerable number of publications, and enables those 
who collect Bewick's pieces to detect the hand of the Artist 
in many of his less elaborated productions. 




Those of our readers who desire more information as to 
the many books printed by W. Davison, the Alnwick pubHsher, 
are referred to " TheBewick Collector," and the Supplement 
theret9r' by the Rev. Thomas Hugo, M.A., &c. London, 
1866,^—68. These volumes, illustrated by upwards of two 
hyrndred and ninety cuts, comprise an elaborate descriptive 
^st of the most complete collection yet formed of the works 
of the renowned wood engravers of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. 
Not only to Bewick collectors, but to all persons interested 
in the progress of Art, and esijccially of wood engraving, 
these volumes, exhibiting chronologically the works of the 
l^'athers of that Art in England, cannot fail to be of the 
highest interest. 





' At length, old and feeble, trudging enrly and latQ, 
Bow'd down by diseases, he bends to his fate ; 
Blind, old, lean, and feeble, he tugs round a mill, 
Or draws sand, till the sand of his hour-glass stands still." 

Charles Dibdin. 

The poor old Horse. — In the morning of his days he was 
handsome, sleek as a raven, sprightly and spirited, and was then much 
caressed and happy. When he gi-ew to perfection, in his perfonnances, 
even on the turf, and afterwards in the chase, and in the field, he was 
equalled by few of his kind ; after which he fell into the hands of 
dirterent masters, but from none of them did he ever eat the bread (jf 
idleness, and, as he grew in years, his cup of misery was still augmented 
with bitterness — he became the property of a general, a gentleman, a 
fanner, a miller, a butcher, a higgler, and a maker of brooms. A hard 
winter coming on, a want of money obliged his poor owner to turn him 
out to shift for himself, his former fame and great value are now, to him, 
■ viot worth a handful of oats. But his days and nights of misery are now 
^Irawing to an end. So that, after having faithfully dedicated the whole 
of his powers and his lime to the service of unfeeling man, he is at last 
turned out, unsheltered and unprotected, to starve of hunger and of 
cold. — Thomas Bcicick. 

2S /.//•/•. .IXJ) TlMl-.S OI- 

In or about the latter piirt of tlic year 1808, John 
Catnach, with his wife and family, left Alnwick for Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne, and commenced business in a small shop in 
Newgate Street, and among other Works which he printed 
there, mention may be made of " The Battle of Chevy 
Chase," a selection from the works of " Dr. Samuel Johnson, 
in two volumes," and " The Life of John Thompson, 
Mariner. ^Vritten by Himself : Also, his Divine Selec- 
tions, in Prose and Verse. From esteemed Authors. 
Embellished with Engravings. Newcastle : Printed for the 
Author. By J. Catnach, Newgate Street. 1810. i2mo., 
pp. Ixxvi., 214. With two tail-pieces by Thomas Bewick." 

John Thompson was a British seaman who lost a leg and 
endured many hardships at the Battle of Trafalgar,, and 
afterwards made a living out of his misfortunes and assumed 
piety. Catnach was induced, by specious reasoning, to 
undertake the printing of the book, but the eleemosynary 
author dying just as it was all worked off but not bound, he 
had the whole of the stock thrown on his hands. 

John Catnach, at Newcastle, worked ardently and 
attentively for awhile, but without finding his expecta- 
tions realised. Alas ! time and the change of scene and 
companions had not- improved the man. He contrived to 
get into a great amount of debt, without the least jjossible 
chance, from his irregular mode of living, of being able to 
pay it off. Evidently, he made up his mind for the worst, 
and the downward course would seem to have been the 
only way open to him. From bad to worse, and from one 
extreme to the other, he rapidly drifted. The loose and 
irregular manner in which he had existed was beginning to 
tell upon his constitution. His business had been neglected, 
and his adventures were nearly at a climax. Everything 
around him betokened gloom and despair. The tiny craft, 
which had been tossed to-and-fro in the raging ocean of life, 
was soon to disappear among its surging billows. The wreck 


came, with a terrific blow ; but it was not unlookcd for. 
Poor Catnach was a bankrupt, and as such sent to the 
debtor's gaol. But just before the climax he had managed 
to send his wife and daughters to London, together with a 
wooden printing press, some small quantity of type, and 
other articles of his trade that could be hurriedly and clan- 
destinely got together. 

During the five years' residence of John and Mary Cat- 
nach in Newcastle, they had one child, Isabella, burned to 
death, and another born to them, Julia Dalton. 

Mr. Mark Smith, who had been bound ap])rentice to John 
Catnach, but by reason of whose removal from the Borough 
of Alnwick, the. indentures had been rendered void, was 
then in London, serving out his time as a turnover and 
imjirover with Mr. John Walker, of Paternoster Row, and on 
being made acquainted with the arrival of Mrs. Catnach 
and her family, paid them a visit at their lodgings in a court 
leading off Drury Lane, and assisted in putting up the press 
and arranging the other few matters and utensils in con- 
nection with their tiny printing office, there to await John 
Catnach's release from prison and arrival in the metropolis. 

London life to John Catnach proved very disastrous, 
matters never went smoothly with him. It was evident to 
all his friends that he had made a great mistake in leaving 
the North of England. Mr. Mark Smith continued to visit 
the family as opportunities presented themselves. On one 
occasion he found them in extremely distressed circum- 
stances, so much so, that he had to afford them some 
temporary relief from his slender earnings and then left the 
northern sojourners for the night, promising that he would 
return to see them at an early date. Anxious to learn how 
^they were succeeding in the crowded metropolis, it was not 
many days before he again visited them, but this time he 
found them in a sorry [ilight ; the landlady had distrained 
upon their all for arrears of rent. This was an awkward 


predicament ; but the indomitable young Northumbrian, 
Hke the more burly Doctor Johnson of old, when his friend 
Goldsmith was similarly situated, resolved to do all he could 
to rescue him from the peril in which he was placed. Not 
being prepared for a case of such pressing emergency, the 
full debt and costs being demanded, he was compelled to 
borrow the required amount of Mr. Matthew Willoughby, a 
native and freeman of the Borough of Alnwick,* then 
residing in London, and once more his old master was 

Catnach then removed his business to a front shop in 
Wardour Street, Soho, and took apartments for his wife and 
family in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Sciuare. Again he 
shortly removed his business to Gerrard Street, where he 
had hardly got his plant into working order, when on 
returning home on the evening of the 29th of August, 1813, he 
had the misfortune to fall down and injure his leg. He was 
immediately taken to St. George's Hospital, Hyde Park 
Corner, when rheumatic fever supervened, and although 

* The Willoughby family have long resided in Alnwick. Over the 
entrance of the Plough Inn, in Bondgate, there is the following 
inscription : — 

"That which your Father 

Hath purchased, and left you to possess, 
Do you dearly hold 

To show his worthiness." 
M. W. 
The initials " M. W." are those of Matthew Willoughby. 
P'ew parts of Alnwick have undergone greater improvements during 
the last half century than Bondgate, not only as regards the state of the 
streets but also the character of the houses, and perhaps the greatest of 
all the improvements has been effected with that portion of ground which 
commonly passes by the name of "the hill." This was formerly a 
piece of waste ground, one portion of which' was a sand-bank and the 
other overgrown with grass, wliich served as a pasture for that class of 
animals whose owners were unable to provide them witli a belter. 


placed under the skilful treatment of Dr. Young, he never 
rallied, his constitution being completely broken, but by 
means of superior medical treatment he lingered until the 
4th of December in the same year, on which day he died. 

A day was appointed for the funeral, and Mr. Mark Smith 
and one of the daughters of the deceased, went to the 
hospital for the purpose of following the remains to the 
grave, but when they arrived there some accident, it was said, 
had befallen the horse' that was to have drawn the hearse, 
hence the obsequies were postponed till the following day, 
but Mr. Mark Smith was unable to be there, owing to 
business engagements elsewhere. Thus we are unable to 
state where John Catnach lies buried. We have made 
inquiries of the officials of St. George's Hospital, but their 
records afford us no further information on the subject than 
we have given above. But Mr. Mark Smith maintains an 
opinion to this day, that the postponement of the funeral 
was but a ruse on the part of the hospital authorities, to 
enable them to use at least some portion of the corpse for 
dissecting and anatomical purposes. 

Such is a hne( n'suml' of the latter years of John Catnach's 
life. It is apparent that, by a little application and self- 
denial, this man might have made for himself a name and 
position in the world. He possessed all the necessary talents 
for bringing success within his reach. The ground which he 
took is the same which in after years proved to be of 
inestimable value to hundreds of publishers who never 
jiossessed half the amount of ability and good taste in 
printing and embellishing books that was centred in him. 

After his death, and just at the time when his widow and 
|]aughters were sunk in the greatest poverty, his son James, 
who in after years became so noted in street literature 
publications, made his way to the metropolis. It apj^ears 
that this extraordinary man at one time contemplated 
devoting his life to rural pursuits ; in fact, when a youth he 



served for some time as a shepherd boy, (luite contrary to 
the wisyand desire of his parents. Every opportunity he 
could Vt he would run away, far across the moors and over 
the/Northumbrian mountains, and, always accompanied with 
hi/ favourite dog Venus, and a common-place book, m 
which he jotted down in rhymes and chymes his notions of 
a pastoral life.* Thus he would stay away from home for 
days and nights together. 

This project, however, was abandoned, and he com- 
menced to serve as a printer in the employment of his 
father. It is rather remarkable that he and Mr. Mark Smith 
w^ere both bound on the same day as apprentices to Mr. 
John Catnach, and that they afterwards worked together as 
"improvers" in their trade with Mr. Joseph Graham, a 
copy of whose " imprint " follows, of which Mr. Hugo, in 
the Supplement to his "Bewick Collector," pp. 256 (5137), 
says -.—"This very beautiful Cut was done by Thomas Bewick, 
sometime about the year 1794, for a well-known Alnwick 


* We have been very recently informed by Mrs. Benton, the only 
survivor of the family of John and Mary Catnach, that the MS. book 
alluded to above, remained in the family for many years, and was last 
known to be in the possession of the sister Mary-Mrs. I lames, ot 
Gosport, to the date of al)out 1863. 



THE HERMIT, ANt;EE, AND GXjWE.^ranuU's IIiiniiL 


Mr, Graham for several years kept a printing office in 
Fenkle Street, which branches from Narrowgate Street ; 
he was succeeded by his son, at the sale of whose stock 
the Bewick-cut-block was purchased by Mr. Pike. 

Previous to, and for some time after, the commencement 
of the present century, Fenkle Street contained the best 
houses and was undoubtedly the leading and most fashion- 
able street in Alnwick, Here was the Angel Inn, the chief 
hostelry and posting house of that period, and further down 
were the Nag's Head, the Spread Eagle, and the Half Moon, 
all houses of considerable repute. 

During the time Catnach the elder was laid up in St. 
George's Hospital, where, as we have previously shown, he 
remained for fourteen weeks, when death put an end to his 
mental and bodily sufferings, the family continued in very 
distressed circumstances, but were from time to time 
l)artially relieved by Mr. Mark Smith, who, on one or 
two evenings during the week, after he had finished his own 
day's work in the City, used to set up and work off any 
little printing jobs that had been obtained since his last visit. 
Temporary assistance was also given by Mr. Matthew 
Willoughby, and a few other Northern friends, who happened 
to be in London at the time. James Catnach, the son, did 
not arrive in town until after the father's death and burial. 
He was at the time working at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, which 
is thirty-six miles from Alnwick. Communications from, 
and transportation to, the metropolis in those days being 
long, tedious, and very costly. 

Soon after the father's death, the family again removed, and 
when James Catnach, in 1813 — 14, being in his twenty-second 
year, commenced business in the little shop and parlour of 
No. 2, Monmouth Court, Seven Dials, his start in life may 
be said to have been a very humble one ; he had only the 
old wooden press which his father had used at Alnwick 
and afterwards at Newcastle, together with such small 

/A.lfES CATNACH. 35 

assortments of type and woodcuts that had been sent off to 
London with the foiiiily at the approach of the father's bank- 
ruptcy. His mother and sisters were now entirely dependant 
upon him for their support, and knowing this, he undoubtedly 
threw more energy and perseverance into the matter than he 
would have done, for the least drawback might have been 
the means of frustrating his hopes and expectations. He 
resolved, by rigid application, to do all he could towards 
making his position tenable and secure, and the result was, 
that in a few years he laid the foundation of a peculiar, yet 
lucrative business. 

A large part of the trade which James Catnach com- 
menced to do in London, had for years previous to this been 
done in Scotland, as well as in several parts of the North of 
England. Books of small histories, ballad poetry, and 
legends of remarkable places which were frequented by 
ghosts, fairies, hobgoblins, and the like, and similar works 
were printed in many parts of Caledonia long before the 
time of Robert Burns. This poet, in one of his letters, 
says, " that it was through the kindness of one of his early 
schoolmistresses that he first became acquainted with this 
particular kind of literature ; " and there can be little doubt 
that he penned, when under the impulse of such imagina- 
tions, what Scott has styled, his " inimitable tale of Tam 

At the time when the broadsides, catch-pennies, and 
awfuls were in the ascendency, the whole of the United 
Kingdom was overrun with chapmen, ballad-singers, and 
itinerants of every grade and description. Whenever 
nything sensational was upon the tapis^ these members of 
the wandering tribe would make their way to central or 
stated points, in order to be supplied with the requisite 
sheets on their earliest appearance. Before the time of 
stage-coaches, letters, and such like, on the king's service, 
were carried by men mounted on horses, and the danger 

11 2 


attending the road was very great. From the days of Robin 
Hood, the hero of Sherwood Forest, down to those of 
Dick Turpin, Tom King, Claude Duval, the Ladies' High- 
waymen, and Jerry Abershaw, the highways, the desolate 
heath, and the trackless moor were the rendezvous of 
robbery, bloodshed, and murder. When the stage-coach 
was introduced a better state of things began to show forth ; 
and when the distance, which lies between the metropolis 
of England and that of Scotland, could be traversed in a few 
days, the inhabitants of the two countries began to commune 
together more freely. The progress in intelligence, which 
the people had made by being allowed to follow their 
daily vocations without let or hindrance, or the constant 
fears and alarms caused by civil and internal commotions, 
tended in no small way to heal animosities, and bind more 
closely the feelings and affections of the inhabitants of the 
two realms. After the Union, feuds and Border warfares 
became things of the past, the chivalry and enterprise of 
the freebooter and the moss-trooper were no longer 
encouraged ; the slogan war cries of the north were set aside, 
but still kept sacred as rallying standards, which for 
centuries had been upheld by the valiant arms of the 
greatest chieftains of the Borders ; the heroic deeds of the 
Percy and the Douglas were still sung, cherished, and 
admired, but not in the midst of war and sanguinary 
conflicts : a new epoch in society had arrived, of which 
history gives no better illustrations than the accomplishments 
of the past three centuries. During this space of time, ill- 
feeling and prejudice had gradually been uprooted, and 
in their place, good-will and social intercourse prevailed. 

The late George Daniel, of Canonbury Scjuare, Islington, 
near London, who formerly possessed the " Elizabethan 
Garland," which consists of Seventy Ballads, printed between 
the years 1559 and 1597, — at the sale of whose library it 
was purchased by the late Joseph Lilly for Henry Huth, 



Esq., says in an article on *' Old Ballads," in his " Love's 
Last Labour Not Lost:" — "If any portion of English 
literature be more generally interesting than another, it is 
ancient ballad lore. Battles have been fought and heroes 
immortalised in its inspiring strains. It has made us familiar 
with the manly virtues, sympathies, sports, pastimes, tradi- 
tions, the very language of our forefathers, gentle and 
simple. We follow them to the tented field, the tournament, 
the border foray, the cottage ingle, and the public hostelrie. 
We glow with their martial spirit, and join in their rude 
festivities. Narrative and sentiment, reality and romance, 
the noblest patriotism and the tenderest love, the wildest 
mirth and the deepest melancholy, inform, delight, and 
subdue us by turns. The impulses of the heart, those gems 
of truth ! were the inspirations of the muse. Hence 
thoughts of rare pathos and beauty, and felicity of expres- 
sion that no study could produce, no art could polish, find 
a response in every bosom. In peace, the ballad might be 
the 'woeful' one made to a 'mistress's eyebrow:' in war, 
it was the trumpet sounding ' to arms ! ' or the muffled drum 
rolling from the warrior's requiem. 

" The merit of our old English Border Ballads was long 
ago acknowledged far beyond sea-girt land. Joseph 
Scaliger, when he visited England, in 1566, among many 
minute observations recorded in his entertaining ''lable 
Talk,' particularly notices the excellence of our Border 
Ballads, the beauty of Mary Stuart, and our burning coal 
instead of wood in the north. 

" The tunes to which these ballads were sung are centuries 
'older than the ballads themselves. Many of them are lost in 
antiquity. While most of the ballads quoted by Shakespeare, 
Beaumont and Fletcher, and Samuel Rowlands, extend not 
beyond a single verse, or even a single line ; yet how suggestive 
are they ! It was such penny broadsides that composed the 
' bunch ' of the military mason, Captain Cox, of Co\entry, 


and that stocked the pedlar's pack of Autolycus ; and their 
power of fascination may be learnt from the varlet's own 
words, when he laughingly brags how nimbly he lightened 
the gaping villagers of their purses, while chanting to them 
his merry trol-my-dames. 

" ' What hast here ? Ballads ? I love a ballad in print, 
a'-life, for then we are sure they are true.' ' Heres 's one,' 
says the roguish Autolycus, 'set to a very doleful tune, how 
an usurer's wife was brought to bed with twenty money bags 
at a burden ; and how she longed to eat adder's heads, and 
toads carbonado'd ; it is true, and but a month old. Here 's 
the midwive's name to 't, one Mistress Taleporter, and five or 
six honest wives that were present ; why should I carry lies 
abroad? Here's another ballad, of a fish that appeared 
upon the coast, on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty 
thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against 
the hard hearts of maids ; it was thought to be a woman, 
and was turned into a cold fish, for she would not exchange 
flesh with one that lov'd her. The ballad is very pitiful, and 
as true — five justices hands at it ; and witnesses, more than 
my pack will hold.' 

"We delight in a Fiddler's Fling, full of mirth and pastime ! 
We revel in the exhilarating perfume of those odoriferous 
chaplets gathered on sunshiny holidays and star-twinkling 
nights, bewailing how beautiful maidens meet with faithless 
wooers, and how fond shepherds are cruelly jilted by deceit- 
ful damsels ; how despairing Corydons hang, and how 
desponding Phillises drown themselves for love ; how dis- 
appointed lads go to sea, and how forlorn lasses follow them 
in jackets and trousers ! Sir George Etheridge, in his 
comedy of * Love in a Tub,' says, ' Expect at night to see 
an old man with his paper lantern and crack'd spectacles, 
singing you woeful tragedies to kitchen maids and cobblers' 
apprentices.' Aubrey mentions that his nurse could repeat 
the history of England, from the Conquest to the time of 


Charles I., in ballads. And AUbrey, himself a book-learned 
man, delighted in after years to recall them to his remem- 
brance. In Walton's 'Angler,' Piscator, having caught a 
chub, conducts Venator to an ' honest ale house, where they 
would find a cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and 
twenty ballads stuck about the wall.' 'When I travelled,' 
says the Spectator, < I took a particular delight in hearing the 
songs and fables that are come from father to son, and are 
most in vogue among the common people of the countries 
through which I passed.' The heart-music of the peasant 
was his native minstrelsy, his blithesome carol in the cottage 
and in the field." 

" Two hundred years ago," \\Tote Douglas Jerrold,* 
" and the Street Ballad Singer was not only the poet and 
musician for the poor, but he was their newsmonger, their 
journalist, as then the morning and evening papers were 
not : the saints of Sunday showed not the spite of devils at 
Sunday prints conned over by the poor ; historians, encyclo- 
paedists, and philosophers were not purchasable piecemeal 
by pennies ; and though the Globe Theatre, on the Bankside, 
Southwark, had its gallery for two-pence, the works of a 
certain actor playing there, were not printed at the price. 
Hence, the ballad singer supplied music and reading to the 
poor : he brought enjoyment to their very doors. He sung 
to them the news, the Court gossip of the day, veiled 
perhaps in cunning allegory — for the Virgin Queen would 
snip off the ears of a ballad monger, as readily as her 
waiting-woman would snip a lace — throwing on a dark point, 
the light of a significant look, and giving to the general 
obscurity of the text explanatory gestures, nods, and winks, 
for the assistance of homespun understandings. 

*' It is upon record that the Ballad Singer must have 
acted no contemptible part in the civil wars. Have we not 

Heads of the People ; or, Portraits of the English." — 1841. 


evidence of his stirring, animating importance ? Has the 
reader ever met with the ' Rump : or an Exact Collection 
of The Choycest Poems and Songs relating to the Late 
Times, and continued by the most Eminent Wits from 
An7io 1639, to Anno 1661 ?' If so, can he not figure to 
himself the English Ballad Singer, bawling, yelling the 
ditty to a grinning, rejoicing crowd, as party rose and fell ? 
The very songs, at first written for a itw, and sung in 
watchful secrecy in holes and corners, were, as the Common- 
wealth waned and died, roared, bellowed to the multitude. 
Hark, reader ! what lungs of brass — now what a roar of 
voices ! Look ! the music issues from the metal throat of 
yonder dirty-faced Phoebus, in rags, and the shouts and 
laughter from the mob, frantic with joy at the burden of his 
lay — the downfall of Old Noll, and the coming of the King, 
that silken, sorry rascal, Charles the Second. How the 
ballad-singing rogue screams his joyful tidings ! and how 
the simple, giddy-headed crowd, hungering for shows and 
holidays, toss up their arnls and jump like satyrs ! And 
there, darting, slinking by, passes the wincing Puritan, his 
face, ash-coloured with smothering anger at the profane tune. 
And now, a comely gentleman makes through the crowd, 
and with a patronising smile, and bestowing something more 
than the cost price — for he is marvellously tickled with the 
theme — secures a copy of the song. The reader may not 
at the instant recognise the buyer : he is, we can swear to 
him, one Mr. Samuel Pepys, afterwards secretary to the 
Admiralty ; but what is more to his fame, the greatest 
ballad collector of the day : let his treasures, left to 
Cambridge, bear honourable witness for him. See, he walks 
down Charing Cross, carrying away the burden of the song, 
and with a light and loyal heart humming, * The King 
enjoys his own again,' written by one Martin Parker, a verse 
maker, who informs us that — 


' Whatever yet was published by me, 
Was known by " Martin Parker," or M.P.' '" 

But, hark ! let us listen to the words of the ballad — 

WHAT Booker doth prognosticate 
Concerning Kings', or Kingdoms' fate? 
I think myself to be as wise 
As he that gazeth on the skies. 

My skill goes beyond 

The depth of a Pond, 
Or Rivers in the greatest rain. 

Thereby I can tell 

All things will be well 
"Wlien the King enjoys his own again. 

There 's neither Swallow, Dove, nor Dade 
Can soar more high, nor deeper wade \ 
Nor show a reason from the stars 
What causeth peace or civil wars : 


The Man in the Moon 
May wear out his shoon, 

By running after Charles his wain, 
But all 's to no end 
For the times will not mend 

Till the King enjoys his own again. 

Though for a time we see Whitehall 
With cobwebs hanging on the wall, 
Instead of silk and silver brave. 
Which formerly it used to have, 

With rich perfume 

For every room, 
Delightful to that princely train ; 

Which again you shall see 

When the time it shall be 
That the King enjoys his own again. 

Full forty years the royal crown 
Hath been his father's and his own ; 
And is there any one but he 
That in the same should sharer be ? 

For who better may 

The sceptre sway 
Than he that hath such right to reign ? 

Then let 's hope for a peace, 

For the wars will not cease 
Till the King enjoys his own again. 

Till then upon Ararat's hill 
My hope shall cast her anchor still. 
Until I see some peaceful dove 
Bring home the branch I dearly love ; 

Then will I wait 

Till the waters abate, 


Which now disturb my troubled brain, 

Else never rejoice 

Till I hear the voice 
That the King enjoys his own again. 

Martin Parker. 

Who shall say that our Ballad Singer has not shouted to 
crowds like these ; has not vended his small ware to men, 
aye, as illustrious as the immortal writer of that best of all 
history — history in undress — The Diary of Samuel Pepys ? 

Although the library of the British Museum contains a 
much larger number of broadside ballads than any other of 
the public libraries, yet the ROXBURGHE COLLECTION, 
taken alone, is but second in extent to the collection known 
by the name of Samuel Pepys, the diarist, which is in the 
library of Magdelene College, Cambridge. The latter is in 
five volumes, containing i,8oo ballads, of which 1,376 are in 
9^1iICl& ILrttft* This famed collection was commenced 
by the learned Selden. 

John Selden died 1654, and Pepys continued collecting 
till near the time of his death, in 1703, which fact he records 
on the title page of his volumes thus : — " My collection of 
Ballads " (following the words with an engraved portrait of 
himself) " Begun by Mr. Selden : Improved by ye addition 
of many Pieces elder thereto in Time, and the whole 
continued down to the year 1770, when the Form, till then 
peculiar thereto — viz., of the Black Letter with Pictures 
seems (for cheapness sake) wholly laid aside, for that of 
White Letter without Pictures." 

Besides the ballads, Pepys left to the Magdelene College 
an invaluable collection of manuscript naval memoirs, of 
prints, ancient English poetry, and three volumes of " Penny 
Merriments." These amount in numl)er to 112, and some 
of them are Garlands, that contain many ballads in each. 


The Seven Dials ! — Jemmy Catnach and Street-Literature 
are, as it were, so inseparably bound together that we now 
propose to give a short history of the former to enable us 
to proceed uninterruptedly with-the latter. Charles Dickens, 
as Boz, long since " sketched " the Seven Dials. Many other 
descriptive writers have trodden over the same ground, and 
Charles Knight, in his *' London," writes thus : — 

" Seven Dials ! the region of song and poetry — first 
effusions, and last dying speeches. It was here — in Mon- 
mouth Court, a thoroughfare connecting Monmouth Street 
with Little Earl Street — that the late eminent Mr. Catnach 
developed the resources of his genius and trade. It was he 
who first availed himself of greater mechanical skill and a 
larger capital than had previously been employed in that 
department of the trade, to substitute for the execrable tea- 
paper, blotched with lamp-black and oil, which characterised 
the old broadside and ballad printing, tolerably white paper 
and real printer's ink. But more than that, it was he who 
first conceived and carried into effect, the idea of publishing 
collections of songs by the yard, and giving to purchasers, 
for the small price of one penny (in former days the cost of 
a single ballad), strings of poetry, resembling in shape and 
length the list of Don Juan's mistresses, which Leporello 
unrolls on the stage before Donna Anna. He was no ordi- 
nary man, Catnach ; he patronised original talents in many 
a bard of St. Giles's, and is understood to have accumulated 
the largest store of broadsides, last dying speeches, ballads, 
and other stock-in-trade of the flying stationer's, upon 

"The Seven Dials were built for wealthy tenants, and 
Evelyn, in his 'Diary,' notes, 1694, ' I went to see the build- 
ing near St. Giles's, where Seven Dials make a star from a 
Doric pillar placed in the middle of a circular area, in 
imitation of Venice.' The attempt was not altogether in 
vain. This part of the parish has ever since 'worn its dirt 


with a difference.' There is an air of shabby gentiHty 
about it. The air of the footman or waiting-maid can be 
recognised through the tatters, which are worn with more 
assumi)tion than those of their unsophisticated neighbours. 

" 'You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will ; 
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.' 

"The Seven Dials are thus described in Gay's 'Trivia :' — 

" ' Where famed St. Giles's ancient limits spread, 
An in-railed column rears its lofty head ; 
Here to seven streets seven dials count their day, 
And from each other catch the circling ray ; 
Here oft the peasant, with inquiring face, 
Bewildered, trudges on from place to place ; 
lie dwells on every sign with stupid gaze — 
Enters the narrow alley's doubtful maze — 
Tries every winding court and street in vain, 
And doubles o'er his weaiy steps again.' 

"This column was removed in July, 1773, on the sup- 
position that a considerable sum of money was lodged at 
the base ; but the search was ineffectual." 

Seven Dials ! — It is here that the literature of St. Giles's 
has fixed its abode ; and a literature the parish has of its 
own, and that, as times go, of a very respectable standing 
in point of antiquity. In a letter from Letitia Pilkington, 
to the demure author of "Sir Charles Grandison," and 
published by the no less exemplary and irreproachable 
Mrs. Barbauld, the lady informs her correspondent that 
she has taken apartinents in Great White Lion Street, 
^and stuck up a bill intimating that all who have not found 
" reading and writing come by nature," and who had had 
no teacher to make up the defect by art, might have 
"letters written here." With the progress of education, 
printing presses have found their way into St. Giles's, and 


it is now no exaggeration to say that, compared with the 
rest of the metropoHs, the streets radiating from Seven 
Dials display more than the average of booksellers and 
stationers' shops, circulating libraries, and the like. 

The taste of Seven Dials and its immediate neighbour- 
hood is more literary than scientific, and the modem 
seems preferred to ancient literature. Romantic series 
of the Thomas Prest school — he who did the novels for 
E. Lloyd — appear greatly in demand, such as " Ela, the 
Outcast," " Angelina," " Ernestine De Lacy," " Emily 
Fitzormond," " Death Grasp," " Mary Clifford," " Gertrude 
of the Rock," " Rosalie ; or, the Vagrant's Daughter," 
*' Susan Hopley ; or, the Vicissitudes of a Servant Girl," 
" Kathleen," " Hebrew Maiden," " Vileroy ; or, the Horrors 
of Zindorf Castle," " The Penny Pickwick," " Gallant 
Tom," " The Maniac Father," " The Victim of Seduction," 
*' Henrietta ; or, the Grave of the Forsaken," " The Wreck 
of the Heart," "The Miller's Maid," "Ada, the Betrayed; 
or, the Murder at the Old Smithy," &c., &c., ad infinitum. 

The fact of all the works we have enumerated belonging 
to the illustrated class, will have prepared the reader to 
expect other symptoms of a taste for art ; and accordingly, 
in Monmouth Street, we find one of the greatest ateliers 
from which the milk shops, ginger beer stalls, greengroceries, 
and pot houses of the suburbs are supplied with sign boards. 
Theatrical amateurs appear to abound ; at least the ample 
store of tin daggers, blunt cutlasses, banners, halberds, 
battle axes, &c., constantly exposed for sale at a cellar in 
Monmouth Street, indicate a steady demand. Nor is this 
all ; in no part of the town do we find singing birds in 
greater numbers and variety, and as most of the houses, 
being of an old fashion, have broad ledges of lead over the 
shop windows, these are frequently converted into hanging 
gardens, not so extensive as those of Bal)ylon, but ])ossil)Iy 
yielding as much pleasure to their occupants. In short, 


vhat with literature and a taste for flowers and birds, tliere 
is much of the " sweet south " about the Seven Dials, 
harmonising with the out-of-door habits of its occupants. 

Several years ago, Mr. Albert Smith, who lived at 
Chertsey, discovered in his neighbourhood part of the 
Seven Dials — the column doing duty as a monument to a 
Royal Duchess — when he described the circumstance in a 
pleasant paper, entitled " Some News of a famous Old 
Fellow," in his " Town and Country Magazine." The 
communication is as follows : — " Let us now quit the 
noisome mazes of St. Giles's and go out and away into the 
pure and leafy country. Seventeen or eighteen miles from 
town, in the county of Surrey, is the little village of 
Weybridge. Formerly, a couple of hours and more were 
passed pleasantly enough upon a coach through Kingston, 
the Moulseys, and Walton, to arrive there over a sunny, 
blowy common of pink heath and golden furze, within 
earshot, when the wind was favourable, of the old monastery 
bell, ringing out the curfew from Chertsey Church. Now 
the South-Western Railway trains tear and racket down in 
forty-five minutes, but do not interfere with the rural 
prospects, for their path lies in such a deep cutting that the 
very steam does not intrude upon the landscape. 

" One of the lions to be seen at Weybridge is Oatlands, 
with its large artificial grotto and bath-room, which is said — • 
but we cannot comprehend the statement — to have cost the 
Duke of Newcastle, who had it built, ^^40,000. The late 
Duchess of York died at Oatlands, and lies in a small vault 
rtinder Weybridge Church, wherein there is a monument, by 
Chantrey, to her memory. She was an excellent lady, well- 
loved by all the country people about her, and when she 
died they were anxious to put up some sort of a tribute to 
her memory. But the village was not able to offer a large 
sum of money for this puqjose. The good folks did their 
best, but the amount was still very humble, so they were 


obligated to dispense with the services of any eminent 
architect, and build up only such a monument as their 
means could compass. Somebody told them that there was 
a column to be sold cheap in a stonemason's yard, which 
might answer their purpose. It was accordingly purchased ; 
a coronet was placed upon its summit ; and the memorial 
was set up on Weybridge Green, in front of the Ship Inn, 
at the junction of the roads leading to Oatlands, to Shep- 
perton Locks, and to Chertsey. This column turned out to 
be the original one from Seven Dials. 

" The stone on which the dials were engraved or fixed, 
was sold with it. The poet Gay, however, was wrong when 
he spoke of its seven faces. It is hexagonal in its shape ; 
this is accounted for by the fact that two of the streets 
opened into one angle. It was not wanted to assist in 
forming the monument, but was turned into a stepping stone, 
near the adjoining inn, to assist the infirm in mounting their 
horses, and there it now lies, having sunk by degrees into 
the earth ; but its original form can still be easily surmised. 
It may be about three feet in diameter. 

" The column itself is about thirty feet high and two feet 
in diameter, displaying no great architectural taste. It is 
surmounted by a coronet, and the base is enclosed by a light 
iron railing. An appropriate inscription on one side of the 
base indicates its erection in the year 1822, on the others 
are some lines to the memory of the Duchess. 

"Relics undergo strange transpositions. The obelisk 
from the mystic sohtudes of the Nile to the centre of the 
Place de la Concorde, in bustling Paris— the monuments of 
Nineveh to the regions of Great Russell Street— the frescoes 
from the long, dark, and silent Pompeii to the bright and 
noisy Naples— all these are odd changes. But, in pro- 
portion to their importance, not much behind them is that 
old column from the crowded dismal regions of St. Giles to 
the sunny tranquil Green of Weybridge." 


At the time Jemmy Catnach commenced business in 
Seven Dials it took all the prudence and tact which he could 
command to maintain his position, as at that time " Johnny" 
Pitts,* of the Toy and Marble Warehouse, No. 6, Great St. 
Andrew Street, was the acknowledged and established 
printer of street literature for the " Dials " district ; therefore, 
as may be easily imagined, a powerful rivalry and vindictive 
jealousy soon arose between these "two of a trade" — most 
especially on the part of " Old Mother" Pitts, who is de- 
scribed as being a coarse and vulgar-minded personage, and 
as having originally followed the trade of a bumboat woman 
at Portsmouth : she " vowed vengeance against the young 
fellow in the court for daring to set up in their business, and 
also spoke of him as a young "Catsnatch," "Catblock," 
'' Cut-throat," and many other opprobrious terms being 
freely given to the new comer. Pitts' staff of " bards" were 
duly cautioned of the consequences which would inevitably 
follow should they dare to write a line for Catnach — the new 
cove in the court. The injunction was for a time obeyed, 
but the " Seven Bards of the Seven Dials " soon found it 
not only convenient, but also more profitable to sell copies 
of their effusions to both sides at the same time, and by 
keeping their own council they avoided detection, as each 
printer accused the other of obtaining an early sold copy, 
and then reprinting it with the utmost speed, and which was 
in reality often the case, as " Both Houses " had emissaries 
on the constant look-out for any new production suitable for 
street-sale. Now, although this style of " double dealing " 
ft.d competition tended much to lessen the cost price to the 
" middle-man," or vendor, the public in this case did not 

Titts, a modem publisher of love garlands, merriments, penny ballads, 
" Who, ere he went to heaven, 
Domiciled in Dials Seven !" — 

G. Daniel's "Democritus in London." 


get any of the reduction, as a penny broadside was still a 
penny, and a quarter sheet still a halfpenny to them, the 
" street-patterer " obtaining the whole of the reduction as 
extra profit. 

The feud existing between these rival publishers, who 
have been somewhat aptly designated as the Colburn and 
Bentley of the " paper " trade, never abated, but, on the 
contrary, increased in acrimony of temper until at last not 
being content to vilify each other by words alone, they 
resorted to printing off virulent lampoons, in which Catnach 
never failed to let the world know that " Old Mother Pitts " 
had been formerly a bumboat woman, while the Pitts' party 
announced that — 

" All the boys and girls ai-ound, 

Who go out prigging rags and phials, 
Know Jemmy Catsnatch ! ! ! well. 

Who lives in a back slum in the Dials. 
He hangs out in Monmouth Court, 

And wears a pair of blue-black breeches. 
Where all the " Polly Cox's crew" do resort 

To chop their swag for badly printed Dying Speeches." 

Catnach's London contemporaries, in addition to Johnny 
Pitts, of the Toy and Marble Warehouse, were Birt, 29, 
Gre;at St. Andrew Street ; T. ^vans, 79, Long Lane ; Rocliff, 
Old Gravel Lane ; Batchelor, Long Alley ; Marks, Brick 
Lane, Spitalfields, and a little later on S. Hodges (from the 
late J. Pitts), Wholesale Toy Warehouse, 13, Dudley Street, 
Seven Dials, while the provincial districts were well re- 
presented : Manchester had its Cadman, Bebbington, and 
Jacques ; Birn^ingham, its W. Pratt and Russell ; Liverpool, 
its McCall and Jones ; Durham, its Walker ; Newcastle and 
Hull were supplied by W. and T. Fordyce ; Preston, by 
John Harkness ; Dudley, by Cook ; Brighton, by J. Phillips, 
of Meeting House Lane, commonly known as the " Lanes," 
and Sheffield, by Ford and Swindells, &c., &c. 

In spite of all the oi)position and trade rivalry, Catnach 

J.lMf.S C ATX AC II. 51 

persevered ; he worked hard, and Hvcd hard, and just 
fitted to the stirring times. The Peninsular wars had just 
conckided, pohtics and party strife ran high, squibs, lampoons, 
and political ballads were the order of the day, and he made 
money. But he had weighty jiecuniary family matters to 
bear up with, as thus early in his career, his father's sister 
also joined them, and they all lived and huddled together 
in the shop and parlour of No. 2, Monmouth Court, doing 
a small and very humble trade as a jobl)ing master, jirinting 
and publishing penny histories, street-papers, and halfpenny 
songs, relying for their composition on one or two out of 
the " Seven Bards of the Seven Dials," and when they were 
on the drink, or otherwise not inclined to work, being driven 
to write and invent them himself. 

The customers who frequented his place of business were 
of the lowest grades of society. Their modes of existing 
were very precarious ; vagrants, miscreants, and the vilest 
outcasts of society were connected Avith the catchpenny 
trade. There are few who are conversant with Mayhcw's 
" London " but know something of the many thousands of 
individuals who are living in the great metropolis of England 
without the means of earning an honest livelihood. We 
have many instances how the beggars and the itinerants 
spend their lives : during the day time they go about the 
streets and upon the highways as objects of charity, pity, and 
commiseration ; at night they meet together in some well- 
known place, where the wallet containing the contents of the 
day's gathering is turned out, and, sitting down, they each 
divest themselves of the disguises of the day, and commence 
to spend the remainder of the night in feasting, revelry, and 
song. Burns, in his " Jolly Beggars," has furnished us with 
a fine illustration of these peculiar people. The begging 
trade had, like other professions, its given orders. Asking 
alms from house to house was the lowest. When anyone, 
after a few years' toil grew tired of the life, they invariably 

E 2 


aspired to become vendors of small wares, ballads, and catch- 
pennies. Many of these things are now curiosities, and form 
mementos of a past state of things. No one was ever more 
fond of these small books, containing history, biography, 
ballad poetry, odd sayings and doings, than was the great 
author of " Waverley," and the matchless characters which 
run through the whole of his novels show how keenly he had 
cherished every passing event in his memory. In our own 
day we find the late Mr. Robert White, author of the "Battle 
of Bannockburn," pursuing a similar course. And one, whose 
memory as an author we shall always reverence, once told us 
that nothing gave him more pleasure than a friendly chat 
with a strolling player, a mountebank, or a proprietor of a 
Punch and Judy show. His conclusions about these men 
were that they always possessed a certain fund of amuse- 
ment and information. The persons mostly connected with 
the catchpenny trade were those who by folly, intemperance, 
and crime, had been reduced to the greatest penury. Any- 
one with a few coppers in his pockets could easily knock out 
an existence, especially when anything sensational was in 
the wind. 

One class of literature which Jemmy Catnach made almost 
his own, was children's farthing and halfpenny books. Among 
the great many that he published we select, from our own 
private collection, the following as a fair sample : — " The 
Tragical Death of an Apple Pie," " The House that Jack 
Built," " Jumping Joan," " The Butterflys' Ball and Grass- 
hoppers' Feast," " Jerry Diddle and his Fiddle," " Nurse 
Love-Child's Gift," "The Death and Burial of Cock 
Robin," " The Cries of London," " Simple Simon," " Jacky 
Jingle and Suky Shingle," and — " Here you have just 
prin — ted and pub — lish — ed, and a — dor — ned with ten 
beau — ti — ful and ele — gantly engraved embellish — ments, 
and for the low charge of one farden — Yes ! one farden 
buys : — 




Ding, dong, bell ! 
Pussy's in the well. 
Who put her in ? 
Little Johnny Green. 
Who pulled her out? 
Little Johnny Snout. 
What a naughty boy was that, 
To drown poor pussy cat, 
Who never did him any harm, 
And kill'd the mice in his father's 

See-saw, sacradown, 

Which is the way to London 

town ? 
One foot up, and the other down, 
And that i^ the way to London 


Jack and Jill went up the hill, 
To get a pail of water ; 

Jack fell down and broke his crown, 
And Jill came tumbling after. 

Hey diddle, the cat and the fiddle, 
The cow jumped over the 
The little dog laughed to see the Cock a doodle do, 

sport, The dame has lost her shoe, 

And the dish ran away with And master's lost his fiddle stick 

the spoon. And don't know what to do. 


I had a little husband, 

No bigger than my thumb, 

I put him in a quart pot, 
And there I bid him drum. 

There was an old woman that 

lived in a shoe, 
She had so many children she 
knew not what to do ; 
Who's there ? A Grenadier ! She gave them some broth with 
What do you want? A pot of beer. out any bread, 
Where's your money? Oh, I forget. Then she beat them all well, anc 
Then get you gone, you drunken sent them to bed. 

Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top, 
When the wind blows the cradle 

will rock. Young lambs to sell, 

When the bough breaks the era- Young lambs to sell, 

die will fall. If I'd as much money as I coul 

Down comes the baby, cradle and tell, 

all, I wouldn't cry young lambs to se. 



Goosey, goosey, gander. 
Whither dost thou wander ? 

Up stairs and down stairs, 
And in my lady's chamber ; 

There you'll find a cup of sack, 

And plenty of good ginger. 

The cock doth crow 
To let you know, 
If you be wise 
'Tis time to rise. 

The lion and the unicorn fighting 

for the crown, ht i 

The lion beat the unicorn round My mother and your mother 

about the town ; ^ .^T^^^ over the way ; 

Some gave them white bread. Said my mother to your mother, 

some gave them brown, 

It's chop-a-nose day ! 

Some gave them plum cake, and J.Catnach. Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 
sent them out of town. 7 Dials. 


The Cries of London have ever been very popular, 
whether as broadsides, or in book form. In the British 
Museum is a series of " Cries of London," about the oldest 
is a Black-Letter ballad, by W. Turner, called :— 

" The Common Cries of London To\\'n, 
Some go up street and some go down." 

Under the title is a woodcut of a man with a basket on his 
head. The only known copy is dated 1662, but contains 
internal evidence, in the following stanza, that it was written 
in the reign of James L 

"That 's the fat foole of the Curtin, 

And the lean foole of the Bull : 
Since Shanke did leave to sing his rimes 

He is counted but a gull. 
The Players on the Banckeside, 

The round Globe and the Swan, 
Will teach you idle tricks of love, 

But the Bull will play the man." 

Shanke, the comic actor here mentioned, was one of Prince 
Henry's players, in 1603 ; and John Taylor the Water-Poet, 
informs us that the Swan Theatre, on the Bankside, in the 
liberty of Paris Gardens, had been abandoned by the 
players in 16 13. The Curtain Theatre, in Holywell Street, 
Shoreditch Fields,* had also fallen into disuse before the 
reign of Charles I. The Globe and Bull were employed^ 
until after the Restoration. • 

* The Curtain Road, now notorious for cheap and shoddy furniture, 
still marks the site of the Curtain Theatre, at the same date there was 
another playhouse in the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch ; dis- 
tinguished as "The Theatre," where the Chamberlain's Company had 
settled, which J. Burbadge, who long resided in Holywell Street, Shore- 
ditch, pulled down about 1595 — 6, and built the Globe. 


Other London Cries are mentioned by difTerent authors, 
and a long list of them, under the title of the " Cries of 
Rome," may be seen in Thomas Heywood's '* Rape of 
Lucrece," 1608. In the old play of "The Three Lords 
and Three Ladies of London," 1590, it appears that wood- 
men went about with their beetles and wedges on their backs, 
crying " Have you any wood to cleave ? " In " The Loyal 
Subject," by Beaumont and Fletcher, act 3, scene 5, we 
find that in the reign of James I. potatoes had become so 
common, that " Potatoes ! ripe Potatoes ! " were publicly 
hawked about the City. " The Cries of London " are 
enumerated in Brome's "Court Beggars," 1653. "The 
London Chanticleers, a witty Comedy full of Various and 
DelightfuU Mirth," 1659. This piece is rather an interlude 
than a play, and is amusing and curious, the characters 
being, with two exceptions, all London criers. The allusions 
to old usages, with the mention of many well-known ballads, 
and some known no longer, contribute to give the piece an 
interest and a value of its own. 

The principal Dramatis Personce consists of : — 

Heath. — A broom man. " Brooms, maids, brooms ! 
Come, buy my brooms, maids ; 'Tis a new broom, and will 
sweep clean. Come, buy my broom, maids ! " 

Bristle. — A brush mati. " Come, buy a save-all. Buy 
a comb-brush, or a pot-brush ; buy a flint, or a steel, or a 

Ditty. — A ballad 7nan. "Come, new books, new books, 
newly printed and newly come forth ! All sorts of ballads 
and pleasant books ! The Famous History of Tom Thumb 
and Unfortunate Jack, A Hundred Goodly Lessons and 
Alas, poor Scholar, whither wilt thou go ? The second part 
of Mother Shipton^s Prophecies, nervly made by a gentleman of 
good quality, foretelling what was done four hundred years ago, 
and A Pleasant Ballad of a bloody fight seen i th' air, which, 
the astrologers say, portends scarcity of fowl this year. The 


Ballad of the Unfortunate Lover. I have George of Green, 
Chivy Chase, Collins and the Devil ; or, Roofn for Cuckolds, 
The Ballad of the London ^Prentice, Guy of Wanaick, The 
Beggar of Bethnal Green, The Honest Milkmaid ; or, I 
must not wrong my Dame, The Honest Fresh Cheese and . 
Cream Woman. Then I have The Seven Wise Men of 
Gotham, A Hundred Merty Tales, Scoggifi's yests ; or, A 
Book of Prayers and Graces for Young Children. I have 
very strange news from beyond seas. The King of Morocco 
has got the black jaundice, and the Duke of Westphaha is 
sick of the swine-pox, with eating bacon ; the Moors increase 
daily, and the King of Cyprus mourns for the Duke of 
Saxony, that is dead of the stone ; and Presbyter John is 
advanced to Zealand ; the sea ebbs and flows but twice in 
four-and-twenty hours, and the moon has changed but once 
the last month." 

Budget. — A Tinker. " Have you any work for the tinker ? 
Old brass, old pots, old kettles. I'll mend them all with a 
tara-tink, and never hurt your metal." 

Gum. — A Tooth drawer. " Have you any corns upon 
your feet or toes ? Any teeth to draw ? " 

Jenneting. — An Apple wench. '-Come, buy my pear- 
mains, curious John Apples, dainty pippins ? Come, who 
buy ? who buy ? " 

Curds. — A fresh Cheese and Cream woman. " I have 
fresh cheese and cream ; I have fresh cheese and cream." 

In the "Instructive Library," printed for the Man in the 
Moon, 1 7 10, we have the cries of " Knives to grind," " Old 
chairs to mend," " Pears to bake," " Milk, a penny a quart," 
" Grey peas and bacon," "Fresh herrings," and "Shrews- 
bury puddings." 

The following is a fac-simile of a Catnachian edition of 




Cries of London. 


Here 's round and sound, 
Black and white heart cherries, 
Two-pence a pound. 

Milk belciu. 



frost, or snow, 
I travel up and down. 
The cream and milk you buy of 
Is best in all the town. 
For custards, puddings, or for tea. 
There 's none like those you 
buy of me. 

- Oranges. 

Here 's oranges nice ! 

At a very small price, 
I sell them all two for a penny. 

Ripe, juicy, and sweet, 

Just fit for to eat, 
So customers buy a good many. 

Crunipling Codlings. 

Come, buy my Crumpling Cod- 
Buy all my Crumplings. 
Some of them you may eat raw, 
Of the rest make dumplings, 
Or pics, or puddings, which you 



Come, buy my filberts ripe and 

They are the best in all the town, 
I sell them for a groat a pound, 
And warrant them all good and 

You're welcome for to crack and 

They are so good I'm sure you'll 



Sweep, chimney sweep, 
Is the common cry I keep, 

If you rightly understand me ; 
With my brush, broom, and my 

Surh cleanly work I make. 

There 's few can go beyond me. 

Clothes Pegs, Props, or Lines. 

Come, maids, and buy my pegs 

and props. 
Or lines to dry your clothes, 
And when they are dry they '11 

smell as sweet 
As any damask rose. 
Come buy and save your clothes 

from dirt. 
They'll save you washing many 

a shirt. 

Peas and Beatis. 

Four pence a peck, green Hast| 
And fine garden beans. 
They are all morning gathered ; 

Come hither, my queens, 
Come buy my Windsor beans 

and peas. 
You'll see no more this year like 



Youn^r Lambs to Sell. 

Get ready your money and come 

to me, 
I sell a young lamb for a penny. 
Young lambs to sell ! young lambs 

to sell ! 
If I 'd as much money as I could 

I never would cry young lambs 

to sell. 

Here 's your toys, for girls 

and boys, 
Only a penny, or a dirty phial 

or bottle. 


Rare ripe strawberries and 
Hautboys, six])ence a pottle. 
Full to the bottom, hautboys. 
Strawberries and Cream are 

charming and sweet, 
Mix them and try how delightful 

they eat. 

Hot Cross Buns, 
One a penny, Buns, 
Two a penny, Buns, 
Hot Cross Buns. 

London : 

Piinted by J- Catnach, 2, Monmouth 
Court, 7 Dials. 



Nurse Love- Child's 




2 & 3. 

Pussy-Cat, pussy-cat, where have 

you been? 
I've been up to London, to look 

at the Queen. 
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you 

do there ! 
I frightened a little mouse under 

the chair. 

Who killed Cock Robin ? 
1 said the sparrow, 
With my l)ow and arrow, 

I killed Cock Robin. 

Tell-Tale tit. 

Your tongue shall be slit. 
And all the dogs in the town 
Shall have a little bit. 

Life is a jest, and all things 

show it ; 
I thought so once, but now 

I know it. 


Johnny Armstrong kill'd a calf, 
Peter Henderson got the half ; 
AVillie Wilkinson got the head, 
Ring the bell, the calf is dead. 

All of a row, 
Bend the bow, 
Shot at a pigeon 
And killed a crow. 

Snail, snail, come 
out of your hole. 

Or else I will beat 
you as black as a 

Bell horses. Bell horses, 
What time of day ? 

One o'clock, two o'clock. 
Three and away. 

One, two, three, 

I love coftee, 

And Billy loves tea. 

How good you be, 

One, two, three, 

I love coffee. 

And Billy loves tea. 

As I went to Bonner, 

I met a pig 

Without a wig. 
Upon my word and honour. 


All the birds in the air fell 
to sighing and sobbing, 

\\'hen they heard the bell toll 
for poor Cock Robin. 

Jack the Giant Killer. 



There was an old woman went up 

in a basket, 
Seventy times as high as the 

moon ; 
What she did there I could not 

but ask it, 
For in her hand she carried a 

" Old woman, old woman, old 

woman," said I, 
" Whither, oh whither, oh whither 

so high ?" 
" To sweep the cobwebs from the 

And I shall be back again, by- 


Needles and pins. 
Needles and pins ; 

When a man marries 
His trouble begins. 

Hark ! Hark ! 

The dogs do bark, 
Beggars are coming to to^\^l, 

Some in jags. 

Some in rags. 
And some in velvet gowns. 

A Castle. 

I '11 tell you a story 
About Jack-a-Nory, 

And now my story 's begun, 
I '11 tell you another 

About Jacic and his brother, 
And now my story 's done. 


Many other nursery books of a similar kind might be 
mentioned as some of the chief attractions that emanated 
from the "Catnach Press," and which, to the juvenile 
population, were more eagerly welcomed than the great 
sensational three-volume novels are by many in our day. 

It is remarkable, that at a time when " Art" holds so high 
a place in popular education, and teaching by object-lessons 
is adopted as the best method of elementary teaching in 
infant schools, the books given to young children as rewards 
or inducements to them to exercise their memories should 
not be more carefully prepared. In spite of the great 
advances made in the art of illustration, we still meet with 
so-called "Toy-Books," the pictures in which are either 
contemptibly bad or repulsively ugly. It should not be 
forgotten, that, to young children, picture-books are the 
chief means of education, and that, to accustom them to 
look at badly-drawn and coarsely-executed pictures, is as 
undesirable as to permit them to hear WTongly-pronounced 
or vulgar \vords. 

Catnach received a very indifferent education, and that 
little at the establishment of Mr. Goldie, in Alnwick, where 
his attendance was very irregular, and this drawback assisted 
very much in blunting his relish for the higher walks of 
literature. The father had not carried out the heavenly 
injunction so much practised in Scotland, by giving to his 
son the best of blessings — "a good education." A great 
fault he had, and a grevious one, and that was in allowing 
his own social pleasures to interfere with the mental training 
of his offspring. 

Jemmy had a tenacious love for money, and this pro- 
pensity he retained throughout life. As a man of busi- 
ness he was rough and brusque in his manners, but this 
mattered little, as his trade lay amongst a class who were 
low and insensitive in their habits and modes of living ; and 


his many peculiarities, both in speech and dress, would be 
little heeded by his mixed-medley customers. 

It was hardly possible that anything creditable in good 
printing could emanate from the establishment of Catnach ; 
his stock of type was miserably bad, whilst his wood blocks, 
which we shall hereafter allude to, were of the rudest kind, 
and it mattered little what was the quality of the paper so 
long as the sheets met with a ready sale. The productions 
issued at the "Catnach Press" were not destined to rank 
high in the annals of literature ; and they bear a sorry 
appearance when placed alongside of several works of a 
similar kind, which were printed at the same period in many 
parts of the kingdom. In this respect Jemmy Catnach 
was very unlike his father, for, whilst the former had a 
niggardly turn in all his dealings, the latter was naturally 
inclined to the reverse. 

Another series of juvenile works of a larger size 
and price, consists of " The adventurous exploits of 
Robinson Crusoe," " The butchery and bloody deeds of 
Jack the Giant Killer," "The treacherous and inveterate 
hatred that lingered in the bosom of Blue Beard," " The 
amusing story and career of Tom Hickathrift," "The 
touching and heart-rending account as portrayed in the 
story of the Babes in the Wood," " The adventures of Ali 
Baba ; or, the Forty Thieves," and many others, concluding 
with the ever popular "Old Mother Hubbard and her 
Wonderful Dog," a fac-similed copy of a true Catnachian 
Edition here follows, and although the woodcuts in the body 
of the work are of the most anti-Bewickian character, it is 
possible to conceive ; the piece at the end is very chaste, 
and said to have been drawn by Thurston, and engraved by 
Thomas Bewick, for the elder Catnach. The old block has 
been very much worked, and is still with the others doing 
duty in the office of the " Catnach Press," Monmouth Court. 



I.' J 


Am) HER 

Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupl)oard 

To get the poor dog a bone ; 
But when she came there the cupboard was bare, 

And so the poor dog had none. 



She went to the baker's to buy him some bread, 
When she came back the dog was dead. 
Ah ! my poor dog, she cried, oh, what shall I do? 
You were always my pride — none equal to you. 

She went to the undertaker's to buy him a coffin, 
When she came back, the dog was laughing. 
Now how this can be quite puzzles my brain, 
I am much pleased to see you alive once again. 



She went to the barber's to buy him a wig, 
When she came back he was dancing a jig. 
O, you dear merry grig, how nicely you 're prancing 
Then she held up the wig, and he began dancing. 

She went to the sempstress to buy him some linen, 
When she came back the dog was spinning. 
The reel, when 'twas done, was wove into a shirt. 
Which served to protect him from weather and dirt. 



To market she went, to buy him some tripe, 
When she came back he was smoking his pipe. 
Why, sure, cried the dame, you'd beat the great Jocko, 
Who before ever saw a dog smoking tobacco ? 

She went to the alehouse to buy hhii some beer, 
When she came back he sat on a chair. 
Drink hearty, said Dame, there's nothing to pay, 
'Twill banish your sorrow and moisten your clay. 


bhe went to the tailor's to buy him a coat, 
When she came back he was riding the goat. 
What, you comical elf, the good dame cried, 
Who would have thought a dog would so ride ? 

She went to the hatter's to buy him a hat, 

When she came back he was feeding the cat. 

The sight made her stare, as he did it so pat, 

W'hile puss sat on the chair, so she showed him the hat. 



She went to the shop to buy him some shoes, 
When she came back he was reading the news. 
Sure none would beUeve (she laughed as she spoke), 
That a dog could be found to drink ale and smoke. 

She went to the hosier's, to buy him some hose, 
When she came back he was drest in his clothes. 
How now? cries the dame, with a look of surprise, 
To see you thus drest, I scarce credit my eyes. 



She went to the fruiterer's to buy him some fruit, 
\\'hen she came back he was playing the flute. 
Oh, you musical dog, you surely can speak : 
Come, sing me a song, then he set up a squeak. 

She went to the tavern for white wine and red, 
When she came back he stood on his head. 
This is odd, said the dame, for fun you seem bred. 
One would almost believe you 'd wine in your head. 



The dog he cut capers, and turned out his toes, 
'Twill soon cure the vapours, he such attitude shows. 
The dame made a curtsey, the dog made a bow, 
The dame said, Your servant, the dog said Bow wow. 


There can be little doubt that the great publisher of the 
Seven Dials, next to children's books, had his mind mostly 
centered upon the chronicling of doubtful scandals, fabulous 
duels between ladies of fashion, "cooked" assassinations, 
and sudden deaths of eminent individuals, apochryphal 
elopements, real or catch-penny account of murders, im- 
possible robberies, delusive suicides, dark deeds and public 
executions, to which was usually attached the all-important 
and necessary " Sorrowful Lamentations," or " Copy of 
Affectionate Verses," which, according to the established 
custom, the criminal composed in the condemned cell 
the night before his execution, after this manner : — 

" A LL you that have got feeling hearts, I pray you now 
J\. attend 
To these few lines so sad and true, a solemn silence lend ; 

It is of a cruel murder, to you I will unfold 

The bare recital of the tale must make your blood run cold." 

Or take another and stereotyped example, which from 
time to time has served equally well for the verses written 
by the culprit — Brown, Jones, Robinson, or Smith : 

"rpHOSE deeds I mournfully repent, 
JL But now it is too late, 
The day is past, the die is cast. 

And fixed is my fate. 
Young men be taught by my dreadful fate, 

Avoid the paths I have trod. 
And teach yourselves in early years 
To love and fear your God." 

Occasionally the Last Sorro^vful Lamentations contained 
a " Love Letter " — the criminal being unable, in some 
instances, to read or write, being no obstacle to the com- 


position. Written according to the street patterer's state- 
ment : " from the depths of the condemned cell, with the 
condemned pen, ink, and paper." This mode of procedure 
in " gallows " literature, and this style of composition, have 
prevailed for from fifty to sixty years. 

Then they would say : " Here you have also an exact 
likeness of the murderer taken at the bar of the Old Bailey !" 
when all the time it was an old woodcut that had been used 
for every criminal for the last forty years. 

" There 's nothing beats a stunning good murder after 
all," said a " running patterer " to Mr. Henry Mayhew, the 
ingenious author of " London Labour and London Poor." 
It is only fair to assume that Mr. James Catnach shared in 
the sentiment. 

The Battle of Waterloo — this last, or fifteenth of the 
decisive battles at which Napoleon I. was finally overthrown, 
took place i8th of June, 1815. There can be no doubt 
that there were many street-ballads written to commemorate 
this great historical event, but we have only succeeded in 
obtaining two examples. From the first, which is in 
eighteen stanzas, we make a selection as follows : 

The Battle of Waterloo. 

AT ten o'clock on Sunday the bloody fray begun. 
It raged hot from that moment till the setting of the 
My pen, I 'm sure, can't half relate the glory of that day. 
We fought the French at Waterloo & made them run away. 

On the 1 8th day of June, eighteen hundred and fifteen. 
Both horse and foot they did advance, most glorious to be 

seen, [did blow. 

Both horse and foot they did advance, and the bugle horn 
The sons of France were made to dance on the plains of 

Waterloo. ■ 


Our Cavalry advanced with true and valiant hearts, 
Our Infantry and Artillery did nobly play their parts, 
While the small arms did rattle, and great guns did roar, 
And many a valiant soldier bold lay bleeding in his gore. 

Napoleon like a fighting cock, was mounted on a car. 
He much did wish to represent great Mars the god of war, 
On a high platform he did stand, and loudly he did crow, 
He dropp'd his wings and turned his tail to us at Waterloo. 

The valiant Duke of Brunswick fell in the field that day, 
And many a valiant officer dropp'd in the awful fray, 
And many British soldiers lay wounded in their gore. 
Upon the plains of Waterloo, — where thundering cannons 

Lord Wellington commanded us, all on that glorious day, 
\\'hen many poor brave soldiers in death's cold arms did 

^^'here small arms they did rattle, and cannons loudly roar, 
At AV'aterloo, where Frenchmen their fate did much deplore. 

Now tender husbands here have left their wives to mourn, 
And children weeping, cry — when will our dads return ? 
• Our country will dry up their tears, we feel rejoiced to know 
i^rhey will reward each soldier bold, who fought at Waterloo. 

A\'hen Bonaparte he did perceive the victory we had won. 
He did lament in bitter tears, saying, O my darling son ! 
I will set off for Paris straight, and have him crown'd also, 
Before they hear of my defeat on the plains of Waterloo. 


So unto George our gracious king my voice I mean to raise 
And to all gallant commanders I wish to sing their praise, 
The Duke of York and family and Wellington also, 
And the soldiers brave they fought that day on the plains of 

J. Catnach, Prinler, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 
Cards, Bills, &c., Printed on very Reasonable Terms. 

From the other example we select the first and two con- 
cluding stanzas as a fair sjiecimen of the whole : 

'rr^WAS on the i8th day of June Napoleon did advance, 
-L The choicest troops that he could raise within the 
bounds of France ; 
Their glittering eagles shone around and proudly looked the 

But Briton's lion tore their wings on tlie plains of Waterloo. 

We followed up the rear till the middle of the night. 
We gave them three cheers as they were on their flight ; 

Says Bony, d n those Englishmen, they do bear such a 

They beat me here at Waterloo, at Portugal, and Spain. 

Now peace be to their honoured souls who fell that glorious 

May the plough ne'er raise their bones nor cut the sacred 

clay ; 
But let the place remain a waste, a terror to the foe. 
And when trembling Frenchmen pass that way they '11 think 

of Waterloo. 

J. Pitts, Printer, 6, Great St. Andrew Street. 


Few cases ever excited greater interest in the public mind 
or caused more street-papers to be sold than that of Eliza 
Penning, a domestic servant, aged twenty-one, who was 
indicted at the Old Bailey, April the nth, 1815, for 
administering arsenic into some yeast dumplings, with intent 
to kill and murder Mr. and Mrs. Turner, her master and 
mistress, and the rest of the family. The public took a great 
interest in her case, and universally she was believed to be 
innocent, but the jury in a few minutes brought in a verdict 
of Guilty. Thousands of persons, after examining the 
evidence adduced at the trial, did not hesitate to express 
their opinions very strongly upon the subject of the case ; 
and many of the lower orders assembled in the front of 
Mr. Turner's house, in Chancery Lane, where he carried on 
the business of a law stationer, hooting and hissing, and 
otherwise expressing their indignation at what they conceived 
to be an unjust prosecution of their servant. The mob 
continued to assemble for many weeks, and it was not until 
the police had taken very vigorous measures against them, 
that they were finally dispersed. 

Mr. Hone published a narrative of the case, with a 
portrait of the poor girl; this was replied to, and there 
continued much contention upon the matter. The medical 
man who had given evidence on the trial, suffered con- 
siderably in his practice. 

Four months elapsed between her conviction and exe- 
cution. So many circumstances, which had developed 
themselves subsequently to the trial, had been communicated 
■ ^o the Secretary of State by highly respectable persons who 
, interested themselves in her favour, that a reprieve was 
confidently expected. At length the order for her execution 
was received. 

From the moment the poor girl was first charged with the 
poisoning, she never faltered in her denial of the crime, and 
rather courted than shunned an investigation of her case. 


and on the fatal morning, the 26th of July, 181 5, when at 
the foot of the gallows, a 'gentleman who had greatly 
interested himself in her behalf, abjured her, in the name 
of that God in whose presence she was about to appear, if 
she knew anything of the crime for which she was about to 
suffer to make it known, when she replied distinctly and 
clearly, " Before God, then, I die innocent ! " The question 
was again put to her by the Reverend Mr. Vazie, as well 
as by the ordinary, and finally by Oldfield, a prisoner who 
suffered with her, and to each she repeated, " I am innocent." 
These were her last words.* 

Thousands accompanied her funeral ; and the public still 
sympathizing with the unhappy parents, a subscription was 
entered into for their benefit. 

On the cessation of the protracted war which consigned 
Napoleon to St. Helena, Great Britain found herself subject 
to those temporary domestic difficulties which always succeed 
a sudden return from hostilities to peace. The revulsion 
was felt by nearly every individual in the kingdom ; 
agriculture, trade, and commerce became, for the instant, 
almost torpid, and thousands of the labouring classes were 
thrown out of employment. 

On the 15th of November, 1816, a meeting of about 
30,000 persons, including Mr. Henry Hunt, the Radical 
leader, took place in Spa Fields — then a large uninclosed 
space — to vote an address from the distressed manufacturers 
to the Prince Regent ; a second meeting, on the 2nd of 
December, following, terminated in an alarming riot, the 
shops of several gunsmiths were attacked for arms by the 
rioters, and in the shop of Mr. Beckwith, on Snowhill, Mr. 
Piatt was wounded, and much injury was done before the 

* In the "Annual Register," for 1857, p. 143, it is stated, on the 
authority of Mr. Gurney, that she confessed the crime to Mr. James 
Upton, a Baptist minister, shortly before her execution. 


tumult was suppressed. For this riot, John Cashman, the 
seaman, was hanged, March 12th, 181 7, and, to make the 
dreadful ceremony as awfully inii)ressive as possible, it was 
ordered that he should suffer in front of Mr. Beckwith's shop, 
where the for which his life was forfeited, had been 
committed. This circumstance materially benefitted the 
producers and workers of street-literature. 

The sensation excited throughout the country by the 
melancholy d^ath of the Princess Charlotte, on the sixth 
day of Nove.nber, 181 7, was an event of no ordinary 
description, and even at the present day is still vividly 
remembered. It was, indeed, a most unexpected blow, the 
shining virtues, as well as the youth and beauty of the 
deceased, excited an amount of affectionate commiseration, 
such as probably had never before attended the death of any 
royal personage in England. 

In the Princess Charlotte the whole hopes of the nation 
were centered. As the only child of the Prince Regent and 
Caroline of Brunswick, she was regarded as the sole security 
for the lineal transmission to posterity of the British sceptre, 
her uncles, thj Dukes of Clarence, Kent, Cumberland, and 
Cambridge being then all unmarried. Well-grounded fears 
were entertained that through her death the inheritance of 
the Crown might pass from the reigning family, and devolve 
on a foreign and despotic dynasty. These apprehensions 
were dispelled by the subsequent marriage of the Duke of 
Kent and the birth of the Princess Victoria, who, in her 
ictual occupancy of the throne, has realised all the expecta- 
'tions which the nation had been led to entertain from the 
anticipated accession of her cousin. 

In May, 18 16, the Princess Charlotte was married to 
Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. Their union had been the 
result of mutual attachment, not of political expediency, 
and in the calm tran(|uillity of domestic life, they enjoyed a 
degree of happiness such as has not often been the lot of royal 


personages. The Princess's approaching confinement was 
looked fonvard to by the nation with affectionate interest, 
but without the least apprehension as to the result. Early 
in the morning of Tuesday, the 4th of November, she was 
taken ill ; the expresses were sent off to the great officers of 
State, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord 
Chancellor, who immediately attended. Everything seemed 
to go on favourably till the evening of the following day, 
when, at nine o'clock, the Princess was delivered of a still- 
born child. This melancholy circumstance, however, did not 
appear to affect the Princess so seriously as to give any cause 
for alarm, and about midnight it was deemed expedient to 
leave her to repose and the attentions of the nurse, Mrs. 
Griffiths. Ere half-an-hour elapsed, the latter observed such 
an alarming change in her patient that she at once summoned 
Prince Leopold and the medical attendants, Sir Richard 
Crofts and Drs. Baillie and Sims, who hurried to the chamber. 

The Princess became rapidly worse. 


In her last agonies — in that awful moment when the scenes 
of this earth and all their grandeur were to close upon her 
for ever — scenes in which she had experienced the height 
of terrestrial bliss — the Princess grasped the hand of him who 
had ever been the object of that bliss. It was not the warm 
grasp of life : it was the convulsive one of death. Her 
head fell on her bosom, and breathing a gentle sigh she 

After the grief of the nation had somewhat subsided, the 
feeling of sorrow was succeeded by one of anger. It was 
said that the medical attendants of the Princess had mis- 
managed the case, and a carelessness and neglect, it was 
affirmed, had been shown which would have been scandalous 
had the fate of the humblest peasant woman been concerned. 
Extreme caution must be observed in dealing with these 
l)opular reports, considering the general propensity in human 


nature to slander, and the tendency to find in the deaths of 
emuient personages food for excitement and marvel. There 
really appears to have been some blundering in the case, but 
that this was the occasion of the Princess's death, we have 
no warrant for believing. It is a curious circumstance that 
Sir Richard Crofc, the physician against whom the public 
odium was chiefly directed, committed suicide ere many 
months had elapsed. 

We have given the above outline of the life and circum- 
stances of the dea'-h of Princess Charlotte, to show how likely 
such an event, and at such a time, would affect the interests 
of producers of broadsides of news for the streets. The 
Seven Dials Press was busily engaged in working off "papers" 
descriptive of every fact that could be gleaned from the 
newspapers, and that was suitable for street sale. Catnach 
was not behind his compeers, as he published several state- 
ments in respect to the Princess's death, and made the 
following lines out of his own head! And had, continued 
our informant — a professional street-ballad writer — " wood 
enough left for as many more." 

" She is gone ! sweet Charlotte 's gone ! 
Gone to the silent bourne ; 
She is gone, she 's gone, for evermore, — ■ 
She never can return. 

She is gone with her jo)' — her darling Boy, 
The son of Leopold blythe and keen ; 
, She Died the sixth of November, 

Eighteen hundred and seventeen." 

A parallel to the feeling of the public mind at the early 
and unexpected death of the Princess Charlotte has only 
appeared in recent years on the occasion of the demise of 
the consort of our beloved sovereign — the good Prince 


The year 1818, proved a disastrous one to Catnach, as in 
addition to the extra burden entailed on him in family* 
matters, he had, in the ordinary way of his trade, printed 
a street-paper reflecting on the private character and on 
the materials used in the manufacturing of the sausages 
as sold by the pork butchers of the Drury Lane quarter in 
general, and particularly by Mr. Pizzey, a tradesman carrying 
on business in Blackmore Street, Clare Market, who caused 
him to be summoned to the Bow Street Police Court to 
answer the charge of malicious libel, when he was committed 
to take his trial at the next Clerkenwell Sessions, by Sir 
Richard Burnie, where he was sentenced to six months' 
imprisonment. An official copy — verbatim, et literatim, et 
punduatim — of the Indictment is now subjoined : — - 

|MitltrIr0f X, ^f)P gJurOr^, For om- Lord the King uj^on 
their Oath present that before and at the time of the conunitting of tlie 
offence hereinafter next mentioned and from thence hitherto Divers 
I.iege .Subjects of our said Lx)rd the King to wit Thomas Pursell and 
John Gray resided and dwelt and still do reside and dwell in divers to 
wit two dwelling-houses situate and being in a certain public .Street and 
Highway called Drury Lane in the County of Middlesex and divers other 
Liege Sul:)jects of our said Lord the King to wit Thomas I'izzey Richard 
Hollings John Caspar Shum and John Shum during that time resided 
and dwelt and still reside and dwell in divers to wit four other dwelling 
houses situate and being in the neighborhood of I )rury Lane dforesaitl 
to wit in the Parish of St. Clement Danes in the said County of 
Middlesex and the said persons respectively during the time aforesaid 
exercised and carried on and still do exercise and carry on in the said 
dwelling-houses respectively the Trade and Business of a Pork Kutcher 
and Seller of Pork to wit in the Parish of St. Clement Danes aforesaid 
in the County of Middlesex aforesaid nevertheless one James Catnach 
late of the Parish of St. Giles in the Fields in the County of Middlesex 
afores.aid Printer being a person of an evil wicked and malicious mind 
and disposition and unlawfully wickedly and maliciously devising 
contriving and intending as much as in him lay to cause it to be 
suspected and believed that one of the Pork Butchers and Sellers of 
Pork in the Neighborhood of Drury Lane aforesaid had been and was 
guilty of the misconduct hereinafter next mentioned and to stir up and 


iiiatc the minds of Lhc Liege Subjects of our Lord the now Kin^ 
against the Porkbutchers in Drury Lane aforesaid and the neigliborhood 
thereof and further contriving to scandalize vilify and defame vex 
harrass oppress and wholly ruin the said Thomas Pursell and John 
(iray and Thomas Pizzey Richard Ilollings John Caspar Shuni and 
John Shum respectively and to hinder and prevent the Ix-ige Subjects 
of our said Lord the King from dealing or having any transactions with 
the said Thomas Pursell John Gray Thomas Pizzey Richard Hollings 
John Caspar Shum and John Shum in the way of their said respective 
trades and business on the first day of June in the Fifty eighth year of 
the reign of our Sovereign Lord George the Thirtl by the Grace of God 
of tlie United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland King Defender of 
the Faith with force and arms at the Parish of Saint (iiles in the Fields 
in the County of Middlesex aforesaid unlawfully and maliciously did 
print compose and publish and cause to be published a second false 
scandalous malicious and defamatoiy libel of and concerning such Pork 
Butchers containing therein the false scandalous malicious defamatory 
and libellous matter and words following that i^ to say — "Another 
dreadful discovery ! Being an account of a number of Human Bodies 
found in the Shop of a Pork Butcher. We have just been informed of a 
most dreadful and horrible discm'cry revolting to every feeling of humanity 
and calculated to inspire sentiments of horror and disgust in the minds of 
every Indii'idual. On Saturday night last the Wife of a fournevman 
Taylor went int.' the Slwp of a Butclier (meaning the Shop of the said 

Thomas Pizzey) in the A'eighborhood of D L (thereby then and 

there meaning Drury Lane and the said shop of the said Thomas Pizzey 
aforesaid) to buy a piece of Porh. At the time the Master (meaning the 
said Thomas Pizzey) was serving a man came into tli e Shop (meaning the 
said last mentioned Shop) cai-rying a Sack. The woman thought by the 
a ppearance of the man that lie was a Bod y Snatcher and whenjite^ left 
the Shop (meaning the said Shop) she (meanin* the said woman) 
communicated her suspicions to an acquaintance she met itith : the neivs 
of this soon spread abroad and two Officers went and searched the house 
(meaning the house of which the said Shop was part and parcel) 
and to their inexpressible horror found two dead bodies (meaning human 
Bodies) wrapped up in a sack gi-eat flocks of people were assembled from 
all parts of the Tnvn at Marlborough Street in expectation of the 
offender having a hearing. Catnach (meaning the said James Catnach) 
Printer 2 Monmouth Court (thereby then and there meaning that the 


person carrjing on business in the said Shop as such Poikbulcher as 
aforesaid had caused and procured two dead human bodies to be brought 
into his said shop with intent to endeavour to sell the same as and for 
Pork) and the Jurors aforesaid on their oath aforesaid further say that 
by means and on account of the said false scandalous malicious and 
defamatory libel having been so published as aforesaid afterwards to wit 
on the first day of June in the fifty eighth year aforesaid and on divers 
days and timesj afterwards at the Parish of St. Clement Danes aforesaid 
in the County of Middlesex aforesaid divers to wit Two hundred 
Subjects of our said Lord the King whose names are to the Jurors 
aforesaid as yet unknown did riotously and tumultously meet together 
to disturb the peace of our said Lord the King near to the said 
Dwelling house of the said Thomas Pizzey in the neighborhood of 
Drury Lane aforesaid to wit in the Parish of St. Clement Danes 
aforesaid to wit in Blackmore Street there and being so assembled and 
met together did then and there break and enter the said Shop of the 
said Thomss Pizzey and did break divers to wi. ten windows of and 
belonging to the said shop and Dwelling house of the said Thomas 
Pizzey and did then in the said Shop unlawfully and against the will of 
the said Thomas Pizzey stay and continue for a long space of time to 
wit for the space of twelve hours on each of the said days assaulting 
and insulting the said Thomas Pizzey and Elizabeih his Wife and others 
of his family and his servants there and making a great noise and 
disturbance therein and hindered and prevented the said Thomas 
Pizzey from exercising and carrying on his said trade and business of a 
Pork Butcher therein and by means and on account of the publishing 
of the said libel as aforesaid. To the great damage scandal infamy 
and disgrace of the said Thomas Pursefll John Gray and the said Thomas 
Pizzey Richard Rollings John Caspar Shum and John Shum respectively 
In contempt of our said Lord the King and his Laws. To the evil and 
pernicious example of all others and against the peace of our said Lord 
the King his Crown and Dignity. And the Jurors aforesaid on their 
Oath aforesaid do further present that before and at the time of the 
committing of the offence by the said James Catnach as hereinafter 
mentioned and from thence hitherto there have and still are divers to 
wit ten persons residing and carrying oiv respectively the trade and 
business of Pork Butchers and Sellers of Pork in Drury Lane aforesaid 
and in the neighborhood thereof to wit in the Parish of St. Clement 
Danes aforesaid in the County aforesaid. 

Second Count.— SlUtf X^t 3iiUVOt0 aforesaid on their oath 
aforesaid do further present that the said James Catnach unlawfully 
wickedly and maliciously devising contriving and intending as much as 
in him lay to stir up and irritate the minds of the liege Subjects of our 


said Lord the King against the said last mentioned persons so carrjing 
on their said Trade and Business of Pork Butchers and Dealers in I'ork 
as aforesaid and to scandalize vilify defame oppress and wholly ruin the 
same persons and to hinder and prevent the liege Subjects of our said 
Lord the King from dealing and having any transactions with the same 
persons in the way of their said trades and business on the day and year 
first aforesaid at the Parish of St. Giles in the Fields aforesaid in the 
County of Middlesex aforesaid unlawfully and maliciously did print 
compose and publish and cause to be printed and published a certain 
other false scandalous malicious and defamatory libel containing therein 
the false scandalous malicious defamatory and libellous matter and words 
following of and concerning one of the said Pork Butchers to the great 
damage scandr.l infamy and disgrace of the said Thomas Pizzey in the 
way of his said trade and business in contempt of Our said Lord the 
King and his laws to the evil example of all others and against the 
Peace of Our said Lord the King his Crown and Dignity. 

Cruf ijilh 

20th June : The Defendant remanded to new Prison at Clerkenwell 
at his own request. 

8th Septemlier retracts plea and Confesses. 

To be imprisoned in the House of Correction at Clerkenwell in this 
County for six months and committed accordingly. 

During Catnach's incarceration his mother and sisters, 
aided by one of the Seven Dials bards, carried on the 
business, writing and printing off all the squibs and street 
ballads that were required. In the meanwhile the Johnny 
Pitts' crew i>rinted several lampoons on "Jemmy Catnach." 
Subjoined is a portion of one of them that has reached us, 
viva voce, of the aforesaid professional street-ballad writer : — 

Jemmy Catnach printed a quarter sheet — 
It was called in lanes and passages, 

That Pizzey the butcher, had dead bodies chopped, 
And made them into sausages. 

Poor Pizzey was in an awful mess. 
And looked the colour of cinders — 

A crowd assembled from far and near. 
And they smashed in all his windows. 


" Now Jemmy Catnach 's gone to prison, 
And what 's he gone to prison for ? 
For printing a Hbel against Mr. Pizzey, 
Which was sung from door to door. 

" Six months in quod old Jemmy 's got. 
Because he a shocking tale had started, 
About Mr. Pizzey who dealt in sausa;^es ■ 
In Blackmore Street, Clare Market." 

Misfortunes are said never to come singly, and so it 
proved to the Catnach family, for while Jemmy was doing 
his six months in the House of Correction at Clerkenwell, 
we find in the pages of the Weekly Dispatch for' January 3, 
1819, and under Police Intelligence, as fjllows : — 

Circulating False News. — At Bow Street, on Wednesday, 
Thomas Love and Thomas Howlett were brought lo the oflice by one 
of the patrole, charged with making a disturbance in Chelsea, in the 
morning, by blowing of horns, with a most tremendous noise, and each 
of them after blowing his horn, was heard to r.nnounce with all 
the vociferation the strength of his lungs would admit of: — " The full, 
true, and particular account of the most cruel and barbarous murder of 
Mr. Ellis, of Sloane Street, which took place, las' night, in the Five 
Fields, Chelsea." The patrole, knowing that no such horrid event had 
taken place, had them taken up. The papers in their possession, which 
they had been selling at a halfpenny each, were seized and brought to 
the office with the prisoners. But what is most extraordinary, the 
contents of the papers had no reference whatever to Mr. Ellis ! They 
were headed in large letters, "A HORRID Murder," and the murder 
was stated to have been committed at South Green, near Dartford, on 
the bodies of Thomas Lane, his wife, three children, and his mother. 
The murderei-'s conduct was stated very particularly, although, in fact, 
no such event occurred. The magistrate severely censured the conduct 
of the whole parties. He ordered the prisoners to be detained, and 
considered them to be very proper subjects to be made an example of. 
On Thursday these parties were again brought before the Magistrate, 
together with Mrs. Catnach [the mother] the printer of the bills, which 
gave a fictitious statement of the horrid murder said to be committed at 
Dartford. She was severely reprimanded. The two hornblowers were 
also reprimanded and then discharged. 


At a INIanchester Reform Meeting — since known as the 
'• Peterloo Massacre" — held on the i6th of August, i8ig, 
the assembly consisted of from 60,000 to 100,000 persons — 
men, women, and children. Mr. Henry Hunt, an extreme 
])jlitician — Radical Hunt* — took the chair ; he had spoken 
but a few words, when the meeting was suddenly assailed by a 
charge of the Manchester cavalry, assisted by a Cheshire 
regiment of yeomanry, and a regiment of hussars. The 
unarmed multitude were in consecjuence driven one upon 
another, by which eleven were killed, and about 600 ridden 
over by the horses, or cut down by their riders. Hunt, for 
liis share in this affair, was indicted as the ringleader, and 
sentenced to three years' imprisonment in Ilchester gaol. 
Following is the first stanza of one of the many street 
ballads published on the subject : — ■ 

"See ! see ! where freedom's noblest champion stands, 
Shout ! shout ! illustrious patriot band, 
Here grateful millions their generous tribute bring, 
And shouts for freedom make the welkin ring, 
•While fell corruption, and her hellish crew 
The blood-stained trophies gained Peterloo." 

In the Commons he first took his station, and there 

Some weighty discussion he quickly did hear. 

On radical Hunt cast his eye quite elate, 

" 'I'ke friend of the people,'" — their great advocate. 

But, alas ! Satan found to his utter dismay, 

That he, like a weathercock, turn'd any way ; 

That his honour was formed of the most brittle stuff, 

And his arguments only were cloaks to a puff 

For his "Real Matchless Blacking," and "Fine Roasted 

Corn." i 

So Satan turned from him, enraged and in scorn. 

"Satan in I'arliamcnt ; ur, a Fruitless Search after Iloncstv." 


The busy year of 1820 W'as a very important one to 
Catnach, in fact the turning-point in his life. The Duke 
of Kent, fourth son of George III. and father to Queen 
Victoria, died on the 23rd of January — the event was of 
sufficient consequence to produce an elegy for street sale. 
The Duke of Kent was not a politician, he seldom appeared 
beyond the shade of private life, or presiding at the 
anniversaries of some of the great charitable institutions, 
in many of which he took a particular interest. His social 
virtues were many, and he was very charitable ; but in his 
military capacity, the rigour of his discipline often reached 
the verge of cruelty. In no command with which he was 
ever trusted could he scarcely be tolerated ; and although 
he might be amiable in the eyes of his intimate friends, and 
died regretted by his dependants, yet the army had irhbibed 
a hatred of his name, and he was not considered as the 
soldier's friend. Six days after the death of the Duke of 
Kent — viz., on the 29th of January, 1820, George III. died, 
and that event set the " Catnach Press " going night and day 
to supply the street papers, containing "Full particulars," &c. 

" Mourn, Britons mourn j Your sons deplore, 
Our Royal Sovereign is now no more," 

was the commencement of a ballad written, printed, and 
published by J. Catnach, 2 Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 
Battledores, Lotteries, and Primers sold cheap. Sold by 
Marshall, Bristol, and Hook, Brighton. 

The strong constitution of his Majesty had supported him 
to within a few weeks of his decease, in spite of the 
dreadful malady under which he laboured. Early in the 
month of January, symptoms of decay began to manifest 
themselves. His sufferings were not protracted, and the 
approach of death was not embittered by pain. No lucid 
interval had cheered or distracted the last moments of his 
life ; his long reign on earth was ended. 


The royal body was committed to the family vault in 
St. George's Chapel, at Windsor, on the i6th of February, 
amidst a concourse of the great and the noble of the land. 
The usual ceremony of proclamation and salutation an- 
nounced the accession of George IV., and another important 
era commenced. 

Immediately following these events came the Cato Street 
conspiracy. On the 24th of February the newspapers 
contained the startling intelligence that, on the previous 
evening, a party of eleven men, headed by Arthur Thistle- 
wood, who was already known as a political agitator, had 
been apprehended at a stable in Cato Street, an obscure 
place in the locality of Grosvenor Square, on a charge of 
being concerned in a conspiracy to assassinate the greater 
part of the King's Ministers while at a cabinet dinner at 
Lord Harrowby's, and to excite an insurrection in the 
metropolis, and that, in the conflict that took place on their 
apprehension, one of the police officers, named Smithers, 
had been shot to the heart by one of the conspirators. 
The truth of the intelligence was soon confirmed by the 
proceedings which took place before the magisterial authori- 
ties ; and in due course all the parties were put on their 
trial at the Old Bailey, on a charge of high treason, Arthur 
Thistlewood, the leader, being the first tried on the 17th of 
April ; the Lord Chief Justice Abbott presiding. The names 
of the other prisoners were — William Davidson, a man of 
colour ; James Ings, John Thomas Brunt, Richard Tidd, 
James \\'illiam Wilson, John Harrison, Richard Bradburn, 
^ James Shaw Strange, and Charles Cooper, of whom the first 
four, together with Thistlewood, were executed as traitors on 
May I St. 

Exactly half-an-hour after they had been turned off, the 
executioner appeared on the scaffold, accompanied by a 
man whose lineaments were concealed by a crape mask, and 
the ceremony of decapitation was proceeded with, amidst 


ex])ressions of horror and disgust from the assembled 
multitude. One by one the corpses were detached from the 
beam, and being laid on a bench prepared for the purpose, 
the operator, with the most perfect skill, detached the head 
almost in a single cut, and holding it up to public gaze, the 
executioner pronounced these words — " Behold the head of 
a traitor!" The head and body were then deposited in a 
coffin and removed ; but the rush of blood at each decapita- 
tion was so great that the end of the scaffold had the aspect 
of a slaughter house. The other portion of the sentence — 
as to the drawing on hurdles and quartering of the bodies — 
had been dispensed with. It is the last occasion on which 
such a spectacle — harrowing as it was without these ad- 
ditional horrors — has been witnessed in this country.* The 
six remaining prisoners were respited during his Majesty's 

The Cato Street conspiracy proved a rich harvest to all 
concerned in the production of street literature, in the 
midst of which there was a very sharply contested election 
for the City of Westminster, which was determined on 
Saturday, 24th March, at three o'clock. The numbers stood 
as under :— 

Sir Francis Burdett 5,327 

J. Cam Hobhouse, Esq.' 4,884 

Hon. G. Lamb 4^436 

There was no lack of street-papers, squibs, and ballads 
thrown off by the " Seven Dials Press." 

* The person who decapitated Thistlewood and the other traitors, it 
appears from Sheriff Parkins, was a resurrection man who obtained 
bodies for the hospitals. When asked if he could perform the task of 
cutting off the heads, he replied, "Oh, yes; that he could do it very 
well, as he was iu the habit of cutting off heads for the purpose of 
obtaining teeth." — The Xavs, October I, 1820. 


" Oh, Cammy Hobby is the man, 
And so is daddy Sir Franky, O ; 
The Hon. G. Lamb is going mad 
And kicking like a donkey, ().' 

"Oh, the naughty Lamb — 
The miserable sinner, O ; 
We '11 have him roast and boil'd, 
And cut liim up for dinner, O." 

During the whole time of the election party spirit ran very 
high. A real lamb's head with a real rat in its mouth, was 
stuck upon the top of a pole. From the rat's tail hung a 
cock's comb. On the lamb's head was placed a lawyer's 
wig, surmounted with a fool's cap. On a board immediately 
below the head, was inscribed in front — " Behold the ratting 
Lamb, with a cock's comb at his tail." On the other side, 
the inscription was — • 

" If silly Lambs will go ratting, 
'Tis fit they get this sort of batting.'' 

Catnach came in for a fair share of the work, and he 
found himself with plenty of cash in hand, and in good 
time to increase his trade-plant to meet the great demand 
for the street-papers that were in a few months to be pub- 
lished daily, and in reference to the ever-memorable trial of 
Queen Caroline ; then it was that his business so enormously 
increased as at times to require three or four presses going 
r^night and day to keep pace w-ith the great demand for street 
papers, which contained a very much abridged account of 
the previous day's evidence, and taken without the least 
acknowledgement from an early procured copy of one of 
the daily newspapers. 

Caroline Amelia Elizabeth, Queen Consort of England, 
was born 17th May, 1768. She was the daughter of 


Charles William Ferdinand, hereditary Prince of Brunswick- 
Wolfenbiittle, and the Princess Augusta, eldest sister of 
King George III. Soon after the French Revolution, the 
marriage of the heir-apparent to the Crown of England 
began to be regarded as a subject of great national import- 
ance, and negotiations for an alliance with the Princess 
Caroline of Brunswick, were entered into. On the 20th of 
December, 1794, Caroline became, by contact, Princess of 
Wales, and in the month of April following, accompanied 
by her mother and a numerous retinue, she departed from 
Brunswick, and was received with great magnificence at the 
Enghsh Court. On the 8th of April, 1795, the marriage 
was celebrated between George, Prince of Wales, and 
Caroline, of Brunswick. The royal pair, however, were not 
well assorted, and they lived only a short time together. 
On the 7th of January, 1796, a daughter was born — the 
Princess Charlotte — and a few months after a formal sepa- 
ration took place between the Prince and Princess of Wales, 
and she lived by herself in a country residence at Black- 
heath, the object of much sympathy, the people regarding 
her as the victim of her husband's love of vice. Reports to 
her discredit, led the King, in 1808, to cause investigation 
to be made into her conduct, Avhich was found to be impru- 
dent but not criminal. In 18 14 she obtained leave to visit 
Brunswick and the coasts of the Mediterranean, and lived 
for some time on the Lake of Como, an Italian, by name 
Bergami, being all the while in her company. On the death 
of George III., January, 1820, her Highness, as Consort of 
George IV., became Queen of England, but she was offered 
an annuity of ^50,000 sterling to renounce the title and 
live abroad. 

From a brodmre entitled the " Green Bag ; or, a Dainty 
Dish to set before a King," illustrated by G. Cruikshank, 
we take the opposite page and woodcut. 



' My lord, I dare not jnake myself so guilty, 
To give up willingly that noble title 
Your master wed me to : nothing but death 
Shall e'er divorce my dignities. " — King Henry VIII. 

And so they sent a Messenger, 

To meet the Queen halfway ; 
And give her Fifty Thousand Pounds 

If she abroad would stay ; 
And never more be call'd a Queen, 

Or any such a thing, 
But leave them with their dainty dish 

To set before the King. 


The offer of compromise was indignantly refused b}' the 
Queen, and she made a triumphal entry into London, on 
the 6th of June-. Whereupon the Government instituted 
proceedings against her for adultery, which commenced on 
the 17th of August, 1820, and continued until Friday, loth 
of November, when Lord Liverpool, the Prime Minister, 
withdrew 4he Bill of Divorce, on the double ground of the 
majority (nine) and the unconstitutionality and inexpediency 
of the.' Bill. Still she was virtually found guilty, inasmuch 
as sMe was not allowed to share in the coronation of his 
Majesty, George IV., being turned away from the door of 
Westminster Abbey. This was a grievous disappointment 
to her, and a great blow to her pride, the Whig portion of 
the community having pretended to regard her as an ill-used 
innocent woman more for the purpose of enlisting the 
sympathy of the commonality, to be twisted into indigna- 
tion against the King and Tory government of the day. 

There emanated from the press, chiefly during the 
progress of the trial, numerous caricatures and political 
squibs, songs, &c., illustrated by Cruikshank and others, 
most of which have now become very rare. Although these 
were mostly on the part of the Queen, others on the King's 
side were in every respect superior in point of merit. It is 
a remarkable fact that one man in his way, by his infinite 
wit, did more on behalf of the Crown, than the combined 
, efforts of the democratic party against it. We allude to 
Theodore Hook, who opened his campaign against the 
Queen by a thin octavo, which at the time made considerable 
noise. It was entitled, " Tentamen ; or, an Essay towards 
the History of Whittington and his Cat," by Dr. Vicesimus 
Blinkinsop, LL.D., F.R.S., A.S.S., &c. The Whittington, 
of course, was no other than Alderman Wood, and Caroline 
was the Cat. "Throughout the whole libellus" says 
Lockhart, " there was a prodigious rattle of puns and 
conundrums, but the strong points of the case against 



Whittington and Co., were skilfully brought out nevertheless. 
Hook being as yet quite /// obsaov, nobody suspected him. 
It was pretty generally ascribed to the manufacturers of the 
' New Whig Guide.' " 

" Tentamen " was followed by several similar pamphlets, 
chiefly in verse, all directed against Alderman Wood and 
other supporters of the Queen, and all published in the 
year 1820, by Wright, of Fleet Street. They are also to 
be distinguished by a caricature likeness of the celebrated 
Alderman, which appears on the whole of them. 


This was the prelude to " John Bull." The most impor- 
tant event with which the name of Theodore Hook stands 
connected is unquestionably the establishment of the "John 
Bull" newspaper, at the close of 1820. The universal, 
instantaneous, and appreciable effect produced on the 



great political movements of the day by its appearance, 
is perhaps unparalleled in the history of periodical literature.* 
Many of the "John Bull " songs, in construction and even 
in execution, were very little different from those which 
Hook used to improvise in the course of a festive evening. 
It has been said, by one who knew him, that a person who 
never witnessed that marvellous performance could not take 
a better notion of what it was than from such a piece as 
" Mrs. Muggins' Visit to the Queen," in thirty-one stanzas, 
commencing : — 

" Have you been to Brandenburgh, — Heigh, Ma'am, ho. 
Ma'am ? 

You 've been to Brandenburgh, ho ? 
— Oh, yes, I have been. Ma'am, 
To visit the Queen, Ma'am, 
With the rest of the gallanty show show; 

With the rest of the gallanty show. 


And who were attending her — Heigh, Ma'am, ho, Ma'am ? 
Who were attending her, ho ? 
Lord Hood, for a man. 
For a Maid, Lady Anne, 

And Alderman Wood for a beau beau. 

And Alderman Wood for a beau. 

There were several other clever attacks by Theodore 
Hook, in the pages of " John Bull," upon the Queen and her 
friends, which covered them with ridicule. One of them in 
particular, entitled "Hunting the Hare," was very severe : — 

"Would you hear of the triumph of purity? 
Would you share in the joy of the Queen ? 
List to my song ; and, in perfect security. 

Witness a row where you durst not have been. 

Works of Theodore Hook. Chatto and Windus : Piccadilly. 


All kinds of Addresses, 
From collars of S.S.'s 
To vendors of cresses, 

Came up like a fair ; 
And all thro' September, 
October, November, 
And do\\Ti to December, 

They hunted this Hare. 

Verdant green-grocers, all mounted on Jack-asses 
(Lately called Guildfords, in honour of Fred), 

Sweet nymphs of Billingsgate, and tipsy as Bacchuses, 
RoU'd in like porpoises, heels over head ! 

And better to charm her, 
Three tinkers in armour, 
All hired by Harmer, 

Brave Thistlewood's friend ; 
Those stout men of metal. 
Who think they can settle 
The State, if a kettle 

They're able to mend." 

This political squib, which is in fourteen stanzas, had 
such an effect on the female portion of the Queen's friends 
as actually, in a great measure, to cause to be put down those 
absurd exhibitions, which under the name of leve'es and 
under the auspices of "Absolute Wisdom " — i.e. Sir Matthew 
Wood — her Majesty was so injudicious as to countenance.* 

While Theodore Hook was writing on the side of the 
" King and Constitution" in the columns of the "John Bull" 

* The Queen has given notice that addresses will still be received at 
Brandenburgh-house ; but, on account of the lateness of the season, she 
requests they may be accompanied by small deputations only. — The 
News, Nov. 5, 1820. 

H 2 


newspaper, Mr. William Hone, a political pamphleteer and 
compiler of popular antiquities, and who defended himself 
successfully in three trials for profane libel in publishing 
parodies on the Church Liturgy, &c., published a series of 
bold political pamphlets and satires, among which there is 
one on the side of the Queen that soon became very popular 
and ran through many editions. It bears the title of "NoN 
MI Recordo!" and has three illustrations by George 
Cruikshank, one being a burlesque portrait of the valet 
Bergami, who, when any pertinent question was put to him 
by Mr. Henry Brougham, as counsel for the defence, 
invariably gave the very convenient reply '■^ Non 7ni 
recordo" — i.e., " I do not remember." 

Who are you? ^^ Noji vii recordo.^^ 

What countryman are you — a foreigner or an Englishman? 
Nof2 mi recordo." 


This trial was 'the means of bringing forward, as Attorney- 
General for the Queen, Mr. Henry Brougham, who was 
afterwards raised to the Woolsack and the Peerage, and so 
long and well-known as Lord Brougham. Mr. Thomas, 
afterwards Lord Denman, acted as Solicitor-General. His 
conduct, in behalf of the Queen, was so highly approved 
of by the London citizens, that they presented him with the 
freedom of their city. 

Mr. Brougham occupied two days in the delivery of his 
address. " Those only who listened to his oration," says a 
contemporary VTiter, " can form an adequate idea of its 
splendour and dignity." So just and appropriate is the 
following summary of the trials to which her Majesty had 
been successively exposed, that it is copied into these pages 
for the purpose of presenting a condensed view of her suf- 

" It was always," said Mr. Brougham, " the Queen's sad 
fate to lose her best stay, her strongest and surest protector, 
when danger threatened her ; and, by a coincidence most 
miraculous in her eventful history, not one of her intrepid 
defenders was ever withdrawn from her without that loss 
being the immediate signal for the renewal of momentous 
attacks upon her honour and her life. Mr. Pitt, who had 
been her constant friend and protector, died in 1806. A 
few weeks after that event took place, the first attack was 
levelled at her. Mr. Pitt left her as a legacy to Mr. Perceval, 
who became her best, her most undaunted, her firmest pro- 
tector. But no sooner had the hand of an assassin laid 
prostrate that minister than her Royal Highness felt the force 
of the blow, by the commencement of a renewed attack, 
though she had but just been borne through the last by Mr. 
Perceval's skilful and powerful defence of her character. 
Mr. Whitbread then undertook her protection, but soon 
that melancholy catastroj)he happened which all good men 
of every political party in the State, he believed, sincerely 


and universally lamented. Then came, with Mr. Whitbread's 
dreadful loss, the murmuring of that storm which was so 
soon to burst, with all its tempestuous fury, upon her hapless 
and devoted head. Her child still lived, and was her friend ; 
her enemies were afraid to strike, for they, in the wisdom of 
the world, worshipped the rising sun. But when she lost 
that amiable and beloved daughter, she had no protector ; 
her enemies had nothing to dread. Innocent or guilty, there 
was no hope ; and she yielded to the entreaty of those who 
advised her residence out of this country. Who, indeed, 
could love persecution so steadfastly as to stay and brave its 
renewal and continuance, and harass the feelings of the only 
one she loved so dearly, by combating such repeated attacks, 
which were still reiterated after the record of the fullest 
acquittal ? It was, however, reserved for the Milan Commis- 
sion to concentrate and condense all the threatening clouds 
which were prepared to burst upon her ill-fated head ; and, 
as if it were utterly impossible that the Queen could lose a 
single protector without the loss being instantaneously 
followed by the commencement of some important step 
against her, the same day which saw the remains of her vene- 
rable sovereign entombed — -of that beloved sovereign who 
was from the outset her constant father and friend — that 
same sun which shone upon the monarch's tomb ushered 
into the palace of his illustrious son and successor one of 
the perjured witnesses who were brought over to depose 
against her Majesty's life," 

Nor should the following bold, yet correct, and indeed 
inimitable peroration to this incomparable speech be 
omitted : — 

" Such, my lords," said Mr. Brougham, " is the cause now 
before you, and such is the evidence by which it is attempted 
to be upheld. It is evidence inadequate to prove any pro- 
position ; impotent, to deprive the subject of any civil right ; 
ridiculous, to establish the least offence ; scandalous, to 


support charges of the highest nature; monstrous, to 
ruin the honour of the Queen of England. What shall 
I say of it, then, as evidence to support a judicial act 
of legislature — an ex post facto law ? My lords, I call 
upon you to pause. You stand on the brink of a 
precipice. If your judgment shall go out against the Queen, 
it will be the only act that ever went out without 
effecting its purpose ; it will return to you upon your 
own heads. Save the country — save yourselves. Rescue 
the country — save the people of whom you are the orna- 
ments, but, severed from whom, you can no more live 
than the blossom that is severed from the root and tree of 
which it grows. Save the country, therefore, that you may 
continue to adorn it ; save the crown, which is threatened with 
irreparable injury ; save the aristocracy, which is surrounded 
with danger ; save the altar, which is no longer safe when 
its kindred throne is shaken. You see that, when the 
Church and the Throne would allow of no Church solemnity 
in behalf of the Queen, the heart-felt prayers of the people 
rose to Heaven for her protection. I pray Heaven for her, 
and here I pour forth my" fervent supplications at the Throne 
of Mercy, that mercies may descend on the people of this 
country richer than their rulers have deserved, and that 
your hearts may be turned to justice." 

While Hone, Hodgson, Fairburn, Dolby, and others, 
were publishing on the Queen's side, the printers of street 
literature — "Went in a rum'un, sir, for the Queen, Alderman 
AVood, and the People, sir. Yes, sir ; and many 's the good 
belly-full of food, nailed and pelted boots, hats, coats, trou- 
sers, and waistcoats, as was got out of Queen Caroline's 
crim. con. case, sir; and that 'ere Bergami chap, sir, the 
foreign cove, as was her waley, and did all her writing for 
her, and yet couldn't remember nothing after all. So 
Muster Harry Brougham called him Non mi recordo, 
because he wouldn't, or couldn't, remember nothing at all. 


It always struck me, sir, that there was a great deal more 07i 
his head than bear's grease ; and he wasn't a bad-looking 
chap, sir, if the pictures of him didn't tell lies. Ah ! those 
was the days, and nights, too, for the flying stationers and 
standing patterers, sir. Those were the times when Old 
Jemmy Catnach, as you're a-talking of, made his money, sir." 
Great as was the demand, the printers of street literature 
were equal to the occasion, and all were actively engaged in 
getting out "papers," squibs, lists of various trade deputations 
to the Queen's levees, lampoons and songs, that were almost 
hourly published, on the subject of the Queen's trial. The 
following is a selection from one which emanated from the 
" Catnach Press," and was supplied to us by John Morgan, 
a Seven Dials bard, and who added that he had the good 
luck — the times being prosperous— to screw out half^a-croAvn 
from Old Jemmy for the writing of it. "Ah ! sir," he con- 
tinued, " it was always a hard matter tp get much out of 
Jemmy Catnach, I can tell you, sir. He was, at most times, 
a hard-fisted one, and no mistake about it. Yet, sir, some- 
how or another, he warn't such a bad sort, just where he 
took. A little bit rough and ready, like, you know, sir. But 
yet still a ' nipper.' That 's just about the size of Jemmy 
Catnach, sir. I wish I could recollect a little more of the 
song, but you 've got the marrow of it, sir: — 

'And when the Queen arrived in town, 

The people called her good, sirs \ 
She had a Brougham by her side, 

A Denman, and a Wood, sirs. 

' The people all protected her. 

They ran from far and near, sirs. 
Till they reached the house of Squire Byng, 
Which was in St. James's Square, sirs. 


' And there my blooming Caroline, 

About her made a fuss, man, 
And told her how she had been deceived 
By a cruel, barbarous husband.'" 

Street papers continued to be printed and sold in con- 
nection with Queen Caroline's trial up to the date of her 
death, in the month of August, 1S21. 

A Copy of Verses in Praise of Queen Caroline, 

YE Britons all, both great and small, 
Come listen to my ditty. 
Your noble Queen, fair Caroline, 
Does well deserve your pity; 


Like harmless lamb that sucks its dam, 

Amongst the flowery thyme, 
Or turtle dove that 's given to love : 

And that 's her only crime. 
Wedlock, I ween, to her has been 

A life of grief and woe ; 
Thirteen years past she 's had no rest, 

As Britons surely know. 
- To blast her fame, men without shame, 

Have done all they could do ; 
'Gainst her to swear they did prepare 

A motley, perjured crew. 
Europe they seek for Turk or Greek, 

To swear her life away. 
But she will triumph yet o'er all. 

And innocence display. 
Ye powers above, who virtue love. 

Protect her from dispair, 
And soon her free from calumny. 

Is every true man's prayer." 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 

Immediately following the Queen's death, there were 
published a whole host of monodies, elegies, and ballads in 
her praise. Catnach made a great hit with one entitled 
" Oh ! Britons Remember your Queen's Happy Days,'' 
together with a large broadside, entitled " An Attempt to 
Exhibit the Leading Events in the Queen's Life, in Cuts and 
Verse. Adorned with Twelve splendid Illustrations. Inter- 
spersed with Verses of Descriptive Poetry. Entered at 
Stationers' Hall. By Jas. Catnach, Printer, 7 Dials. 
Price 2d." A copy is preserved in the British Museum. Press 
Mark. Tab. 597, a, i — 67, and arranged under Catnach, 


from whicli we select two pieces as a fair sample of Jemmy's 
" poetry-making ! " — Which please to read carefully, and 
" Mind Your Stops!" quoth John Berkshire. 

An Elegy on the Death of the Queen. 

CURS' D be the hour when on the British shore, 
She set her foot — whose loss we now deplore ; 
For, from that hour she pass'd a life of woe, 
And underwent what few could undergo : 
And lest she should a tranquil hour know, 
Against her peace was struck a deadly blow ; 
A separation hardly to be borne. 
Her only daughter from her arms was torn ! 
And next discarded — driven from her home, 
An unprotected Wanderer to roam ! 
Oh, how each heart with indignation fills, 
When memory glances o'er the train of ills, 
W^hich through her travels followed every where 
In quick succession till this fatal year ! 
Here let us stop — for mem'ry serves too well. 
To bear the woes which Caroline befel. 
Each art was tried — at lasf to crush her down, 
The Queen of England was refus'd a crown ! 
Too much to bear — thus robb'd of all her state 
She fell a victim to their hate ! 

-" They have destroy'd me," — with her parting breath. 
She died — and calmly yielded unto death. 
Forgiving all, she parted with this life, 
A Queen, and no Queen — wife, and not a wife ! 
To Heaven her soul is borne on Seraph's wings, 
To wait the Judgment of the KING of Kings ; 
Trusting to find a better world than this, 
And meet her Daughter in the realms of bliss. 


1 1 



Gi XJ E E HNT 1 


Beneath this cold marble the "Wanderer" lies, 

Here shall she rest 'till " the Heavens be no more," 
'Till the trumpet shall sound, and the Dead shall arise 

Then the perjurer unmask'd will his sentence deplore. 
Ah! what will avail then. Pomp, Titles, and Birth, 

Those empty distinctions all levell'd will be, 
For the King shall be judg'd with the poor of the earth, 

And, perhaps, the poor man will be greater than he. ' 
Until that day we leave Caroline's Avrongs, 

Meantime, may " Repentance" her foes overtake ; 
O grant it, kind POWER, to whom alone it belongs. 

AMEN. Here an end of this Hist'ry we make. 

Quod. J AS. C-T-N-H, Dec. loth, 1821. 




Wednesday, August 7, 182 1. 

The tragedy of the persecutions and death of 
a Queen is at length brought to an awful close ; 
and thousands — we may say millions — of eyes 
will be suffused in tears, when they shall read 
that Caroline of Brunswick is no more. 
The greatest, perhaps the best woman of her 
day, sunk by what may be called a premature 
death, on Tuesday Evening. 

At half-past eleven o'clock the following 
bulletin was issued : — 

" Her Majesty departed "this life at twenty-five 
minutes past ten o'clock this night. 

" M. Baillie. Pelham Warren. 
" H. AiNSLiE. Henry Holland. 
"W. G. Maton. 

'■'■ Brandcnbii}'gh House, August 7." 

/. ruts, Printer, 6, Great St. Andrew Street. 


In the early part of the year 1821, the British pubHcwere 
informed through the then existing usual advertising mediums 
that there was about to be published, in monthly parts, 
"Pierce Egan's Life in London; or, The Day and Night 
Scenes of Jerry Hawthorn, Esq., and his elegant friend 
Corinthian Tom, accompanied by Bob Logic, the Oxonian, 
in their Rambles and Sprees through the Metropolis. 
Embellished with Scenes from Real Life, designed and 
etched by I. R. and G. Cruikshank, and enriched with 
numerous original designs on wood by the same Artists." 

Some time previous to its appearance a great taste 
had exhibited itself amongst fashionable bloods for sporting 
works — books upon the chase, upon racing, upon boxing, and 
" sport " generally. The demand soon brought an excellent 
supply, and " Boxiana," in its own peculiar department, at 
once became a great favourite. Artists, too, arose, who 
devoted all their powers to hunting subjects, to racing 
favourites, and to pugilistic encounters. Amongst these the 
names of Aiken, Dighton, Heath, Brooke, Rowlandson, 
&c., became very popular. One day it occurred to the 
editor of " Boxiana " that if Londoners were so anxious for 
books about country and out-of-door sports, why should 
not Provincials and even Cockneys themselves be equally 
anxious to know something of "Life in London?" 
The editor of " Boxiana " Avas Mr. Pierce Egan, who, 
as the literary representative of sport and high life, had 
already been introduced to George IV. ; the character 
of the proposed work was mentioned to the King, and 
his Gracious Majesty seems to have heartily approved 
of it, for he at once gave permission for it to be dedicated 
to himself. The services of Messrs. Robert and George 
Cruikshank were secured as illustrators, and on the 15th 
of July, 1 82 1, the first number, price one shilling, was 
published by Messrs. Sherwood, Neely, and Jones, of Pater- 
noster Row. This sample, or first instalment, of the entire 


work was quite enough for society to judge by. It took 
both town and country by storm. It was found to be the 
exact thing in Hterature that the readers of those days 
wanted. Edition after edition was called for — and supplied, 
as fast as the illustrations could be got away from the small 
army of women and children who were colouring them. 
With the appearance of numbers two and three, the 
demand increased, and a revolution in our literature, in our 
drama, and even in our nomenclature began to develope 
itself. All the announcements from Paternoster Row were 
of books, great and small, depicting life in London ; 
dramatists at once turned their attention to the same subject, 
and tailors, bootmakers, and hatters, recommended nothing 
but Corinthian shapes, and Tom and Jerry patterns.* 

Immediately Messrs. Sherwood and Co. issued the first 
r* shilling number of Mr. Egan's work, out came Jones and 
Co., of Finsbury Square — the successors of the famous 
Lackington, who would have been shocked at the very idea 
of such a work — with the following, published in sixpenny 
numbers : — 

* The late John Camden Plotten's Introduction to the new edition of 
' Life in London." Chatto & Windus : Piccadilly. 


" Real Life in London ; 
Or, The Rambles ahd Adventures of Bob Tallyho, Esq., 
and his cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, through the 
MetropoUs, exhibiting ■ a Living Picture of Fashionable 
Characters, Manners, and Amusements in High and Low 
Life, by an Amateur. Embellished and illustrated with a 
series of Coloured Prints, designed and engraved by Messrs. 
Heath, Alke'n, Dighton, Brooke, Rowlandson, &c." 

As may be readily conceived, the stage soon claimed "Tom 
and Jerry." The first drama founded upon the work was 
from the pen of Mr. Barrymore, and thus announced in the 
bill : — " Royal Amphitheatre. Extraordinary Novelty and 
Eccentric Production. Monday, Sept. 17, 1821, at half- 
past six o'clock precisely, will be presented, never acted, an 
entirely New, Whimsical, Local, Melo-Dramatic, Pantomi- 
mical Drama, with new scenery, dresses, and mechanical 
changes, founded on Pierce Egan's popular work, which 
has lately engrossed the attention of all London, called 
'Life in London; or. Day and Night Scenes of Tom and 
Jerry, in their Rambles and Sprees through the Metropolis.'" 
The piece prepared for stage representation by Mr. W. 

" Corinthian Tom, Mr. Gomersal ; Jerry Hawthorn, Mr. 
Jones ; and Bob Logic, Mr. Herring." 

The second dramatic version was written for the Olympic 
Theatre, by Charles Dibden, and thus set forth in the bill : — 
"Olympic Theatre. On Monday, Nov. 12, 182 1, and follow- 
ing evenings, will be presented a new Extravaganza of Fun, 
founded on Pierce Egan's highly popular work, and inter- 
spersed with a variety of Airs and Graces, called ' Life in 

" Tom (a Capital of the Corinthian Order) Mr. Baker. 

"Jerry Hawthorn (out of Order, and more of the 
Composite than the Corinthian, never intended for the 
Church, though fond of a Steeple chase), Mr. Oxberry, 


and Logic (a Chopping Boy, full of wise saws and modern 
instances), by Mr. Vale." 

Mr. Moncrieff appeared as the third on the list of 
dramatists, sind it was announced at the Adelphi Theatre in 
the following style: — "On Monday, Nov. 26th, 182 1, will 
be presented for the first time, on a scale of unprecedented 
extent (having been many weeks in preparation under the 
superintendence of several of the most celebrated Artists, 
both in the Ups and Downs of Life, who have all kindly 
come forward to assist the Proprietors in their endeavours 
to render the Piece a complete out-and-outer), an entirely 
new Classic, Comic, Operatic, Didactic, Aristophanic, 
Localic, Analytic, Panoramic, Camera-Obscura-ic Extrava- 
ganza Burletta of Fun, Frolic, Fashion, and Flash, in three 
acts, called 'Tom and Jerry; or, Life in London.' Replete 
with Prime Chaunts, Rum Glees, and Kiddy Catches, 
founded on Pierce Egan's well-known and highly popular 
work of the same name, by a celebrated extravagant erratic 
Author. The music selected and modified by him from the 
most eminent composers, ancient and modern, and every 
Air furnished with an attendant train of Graces. The 
costume and scenery superintended by Mr. I. R. Cruikshank, 
from the Drawings by himself and his brother, Mr. George 
Cruikshank, the celebrated Artists of the original Work. 

" Corinthian Tom, Mr. Wrench ; Jerry Hawthorn, Mr. 
W. Burroughs ; Logic, Mr. Wilkinson ; Jemmy Green, Mr. 
Keeley; Dusty Bob, Mr. Walbourn;* African Sal, Mr. 

* Pierce Egan wrote — "The personification of 'Dusty Bob,' by the 
above actor, has been unanimously decided by the public, to be one of 
the greatest triumphs of the histrionic art ever exhibited upon the stage. 
The first tragedian of the day, with the utmost liberality, gave it as his 
opinion, that, during the whole course of his theatrical life, he had 
never seen any performance equal to it. Also, a comic actor of the 
greatest celebrity, exclaimed ! ' Good heaven ! is it possible ? Do my 
eyes deceive me ? Most certainly it is a real dustman they have got upon 



Sanders; Billy Waters, Mr. Paulo; Kate, Mrs. Baker; Sue, 
Mrs. Waylett, &c., &c." 

the stage. I am very sorry the profession has descended so low as to be 
compelled to resort to the streets to procure a person of that description 
to sustain the character.' " 

Walbourn as "Dusty Bob," was drawn and engraved by George 
Cruikshank, and sold at the Adelphi Theatre ; and he kept, during and 
after the run of the piece, the " Maidenhead " public house, in Maiden 
Lane, Battle Bridge. The house, previous to his taking it, was doing a 
small trade ; but when he became the landlord, he put out a sign with 
a portrait of himself in the above character, painted in oil, by George 
Cfuikshank ; after that "Dusty Bob," together with "Black Sal," 
became to be by-words, and drew together many of the "Dusty" 
fraternity, for near to the house was Smith's dust yard, at which hundreds 
were employed, male and female. 

The Literary Dustman. 

My dawning genus fust did peep. 

Near Battle Bridge 'tis plain, sirs — 
You recollect the cinder heap, 

Vot stood in Gray's Inn Lane, sirs ? 
'Twas there I studied picturesque, 

Vhile I my bread vos yarning. 
And there inhalin' the fresh breeze, 
I sifted out my lamin' ! 

They calls me Adam Bell, 'tis clear, 

(As Adam vos the fust man). 
And by a co — in — side — ance queer, 
Vy, I 'm the fust of dustmen ! — 

A Literary Dustman ! 
The " Old Pub " of fifty years ago is now the Victoria tavern, 
Great Northern Railway ; Maiden Lane, is York Road, and Battle 
Bridge is known as King's Cross, from a statue of George IV.— a most 
unartistic piece of work — taken down in 1842. 

Great sculptors all conwarse wi' me, 

And call my taste diwine, sirs — 

King George's statty at King's Cross 

Vas built from my design, sirs. 

The Literaiy Dustman ! 


"This piece," says Mr. Moncrieff, "obtained a popularity, 
and excited a sensation, totally unprecedented in theatrical 
history : from the highest to the lowest, all classes were 
alike anxious to witness its representation. Dukes and 
dustmen were equally interested in its performance ; and 
Peers might be seen mobbing it with apprentices to obtain 
admission. Seats were sold for weeks before they could be 
occupied ; every theatre in the United Kingdom, and even 
in the United States, enriched its coffers by performing it, 
and the tithe portion of its profits would for ever have 
rendered it unnecessary for its author to have troubled the 
public with any further productions of his Muse. It 
established the fortunes of most of the actors engaged in its 
representation and gave birth to several newspapers. The 
success of ' The Beggar's Opera,' ' The Castle Spectre,' 
and ' Pizarro,' sunk into the shade before it. In the furore 
of its popularity, persons have been known to travel post 
from the farthest part of the kingdom to see it ; and five 
guineas have been offered in an evening for a single seat." 

Besides the authors already mentioned, Tom Dibden, 
Farrell, and Douglas Jerrold, each produced dramas upon 
the popular theme, and during the seasons of 182 1-2, 
" Life in London " was performed with great eclat, at ten 
theatres in and around the metropolis, to overflowing houses. 
But Pierce Egan at length became tired of the successes of 
the playwrights in using his book, and resolved to try his own 
hand at a dramatic version — or as he termed it, " to take a 
leaf out of his own book" — and the Author's Piece was 
" got up " and performed for the first time at Sadler's Wells, 
under the respectable management of Mr. Egerton, on 
Monday, April 8, 1822. with most decided success. 

It was thus announced by Mrs. Egerton in the address 
written for the occasion by T. Greenwood, Esq. : — 


" To-night, my friends, this modern taste to meet, 
We show you Jerry at his country seat ; 
Then up to town transport the rustic beau. 
And show him ' Life in London,' HIGH and LOW." 

Corinthian Tom, Mr. EUiott ; Jerry Hawthorn, Mr, 
Keeley ; and Bob Logic by Mr. Vale. 

The Burletta of Tom and Jerry had been repeated so 
often all over the kingdom, and particularly in the Metro- 
polis, that the performers, notwithstanding the great applause 
they nightly received in the above piece, absolutely became 
tired and worn-out with the repetition of their characters, 
when the following piece of satire, written by T. Greenwood, 
Esq., was published, entitled " The Tears of Pierce Egan, 
Esq., for the Death of 'Life in London;' or, the Funeral of 
Tom and Jerry, dedicated to Robert and George Cruikshank, 
Esqs. Price Two Shillings, with an engraving by George 

" Beat out of the Pit and thrown over the Ropes, 

Tom and Jerry resign'd their last breath, 

With them, too, expired the Managers' hopes. 

Who are left to deplore their sad death ! 

" Odd and various reports of the cause are about. 
But the real one was this, I opine : 
They were run to a standstill, and, therefore, no doubt. 
That the cause was a rapid decline. 

" When Death showed his JVbl>, out of Time they were beat, 
And neither would come to the scratch ; 
They hung down their heads and gave up the last heat, 
Not prepared with the Spectre to match. 

" All wept at the Funeral ! the Fancy and all — 
Some new, but a great many mended : 
And Egan, while Cruikshank and Bob held the pall. 
As Chief-Mourner in person attended ! ! ! 


" Their Sprees and their Rambles no more shall amuse, 
Farewell to all nocturnal parleys : 
The Town felt regret as the bell tolled the news, 
And no one rejoiced — but the Charleys / 

" A monument, too, their kind Patrons will raise, 
Inscribed on—' Here lies TOM and JERRY, 
Who, departing the stage to their immortal praise, 

ONE THOUSAND NIGHTS made the Town merry ! ! !' 

" May their souls rest in peace, since they 've chosen to flit, 
Like other great heroes departed ; 
May no mischief arise from the sudden exit, 
Nor Pierce Egan die — broken-hearted ! " 

In reference to the above, Pierce Egan states in "The 
Finish to the Adventures of Tom, Jerry, and Logic," that 
Catnach, in less than twelve hours after the publication, 
produced a pirated edition for street sale, for twopence. 

Black Sal and Dusty Bob, 
The original work, "Life in London," went through 
several editions in a very short time, and the plates, by the 
Brothers Cruikshank, were considered so full of amusement 


that 'they were transferred to a variety of articles without 
any loss of time. The lady taking her gunpowder was 
enabled to amuse her visitors with the adventures of To7n 
and Jerry on her highly-finished tea-tray. The lovers of 
Irish Blackguard experienced a double zest in taking a pinch 
from a box, the lid of which exhibited the laughable phiz of 
the eccentric Bob Logic. The country folks were delighted 
with the handkerchief which displayed Tom getting the best 
of a Charley, and Dusty Bob and Black Sal "all happi-. 
ness !" The Female of Quality felt interested with the 
lively scene of the light fantastic toe at Almack's, when 
playing with her fan ; and the Coufioisseur, with a smile of 
satisfaction on his countenance, contemplated his screen, on 
which were displayed the motley groups of high and low 
characters continually on the move in the metropolis. 

Mr. Pierce Egan, in his '•'■Finish," states that he reckoned 
no less than sixty-five separate publications, which he enu- 
merates i?t extenso, all derived from his own work, and adds, 
with his usual amount of large and small Capitals and 
italics — " We have been pirated, copied, traduced; but un- 
fortunately, not enriched by our indefatigable exertions ; 
therefore notoriety must satisfy us, instead of the smiles 
of FORTUNE. Our efforts have given rise to numerous 
productions in the market of literature, yet we can assert, 
with a degree of confidence hitherto unshaken, that none of 
our imitators have dared to think for themselves during the 
long period of seven years, neither have they shown any 
originality upon the subject of 'Life in London;' but 
who have left it — disinterested souls! — to the Author and 
Artist to put a CLIMx\X to the adventures of Tom, Jerry, 
and Logic." The last remark is in reference to the publi- 
cation of " The Finish " to the Adventures of Tom, Jerry, 
and Logic, seven years after the date of "The Life in 

Brighton, of course, had its version of "Life in London." 


The theatre was then under the management of Mr. Samuel 
— or as he was commonly known, Jerry Sneak Russell, from 
the inimitable manner in which he personated that character 
in Foote's farce of "The Mayor of Garrat." We have a 
copy of the play-bill of the period before us, and as we 
think the manager's remarks and the selection of criticisms 
are in their way curious, we here append them, including 
the cast of characters. 




In announcing the successful piece of "Tom and Jerry" 
for this evening, the manager feels great satisfaction in being 
able to quote in its favour the following observations from 
the critiques in the London and other newspapers. " The 
scenery, dresses, &c., are good throughout, and much credit 
is due to the manager for the style in which it is got up. It 
is with pleasure we remark that this piece has been most 
judiciously and with a very proper feeling freed from the 
impurities of dialogue, which rendered it improper to meet 
the delicate ear of the gentler sex. We therefore venture, 
without subjecting ourselves to reproach, to recommend our 
readers to see ' Life in London,' to witness an exposure of 
many impositions practised in real life, and be made * Fly ' 
(the plain English of au fait) to the inultian in parvo 
phrases which are now introduced into passing conver- 

"Brighton. — The theatre at this place has just produced 
its ' Tom and Jerry ' with great success, and we may say, 
deservedly, every objectionable point that might be thought 
to infringe on decorum having been most ingeniously sup- 
pressed without any diminution of the whim and fire of its 
varied and entertaining scenes. This regard to propriety 
argues much discretion, and seems to meet tlie approbation 


of the beau monde resorting hither, for the theatre is graced 
with abundance of fashion and beauty." 

" The ' Tom and Jerry' of the Brighton Theatre has good 
scenery, good acting, and what in such a piece is perhaps 
still better, good and chaste dialogue to recommend it ; it 
has been cleansed of its impurities without injuring its life 
and spirit. As thus represented, it cannot raise a blush on 
the cheek of the most fastidious female." 

On Wednesday evening, September 12,. 1822, will be re- 
produced the highly popular and amusing Burletta of 


Corinthian Tom ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Power. 

Bob Logic ... ... ... ... ... ... ...Mr. Chapman. 

Jerry Hawthorn ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Russell. 

Squire Hawthorn ... ..Mr. Chambers. 

Tattersal Mr. Mortimer. 

Yorkshire Cove Mr. Hatton. 

Primefit ... ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Julian. 

Bill Chaunt Mr. Whatford. 

Dusty Bob Mr. Stamier 

Mr, Mace ... (Landlord of all Max in the East) ... Mr. Jenkins. 

Billy Waters Mr. Sheen. 

Mr. Muff ... Mr. Collier. Gammoning Jack ... Mr. Mills. 

Snoozy ... Mr. Cole. Trifle ... Mr. Dale. 

Little Jemmy ... Master Williams. Chaffing Sam ... Mr. Wiber. 

Tom Belcher .. . ... ... ... ... ... Mr. Jones. 

President of the Daffy Club Mr. Campbell. 

Huntsmen, Watchmen, Villagers, Cadgers, &c., &c. 

Corinthian Kate Miss M. Cooke. 

Hon. Mrs. Gadabout Mrs. Clarke. 

Patty Primrose ... ... ... ... ...Miss Carr. 

Maiy Miss Cramer. 

Hon. Mrs. Trifle Miss Grosette. 

Fortune Teller ... Mrs. Grosette. 

Mrs. Allright Miss H. Grosette. 

African Sal Miss Black. 

Countiy Lasses, Ladies at Almack's in the West, &c., &c. 
Prospectus of Scenery, &c., &c., as before. 


To conclude with the Romantic Melo-Drama of 

Valentine Mr. Power. 

Orson Mr. S. Chapman. 

[Creasy, Printer, Gazette Office, Brighton. 

Jemmy Catnach, true to his line of life, soon joined what 
Pierce Egan designates as the " Mob of Literary Pirates," 
who irritate the poor author almost to madness, blast his 
prospects, impose on the unwary by their imitations, and 
render his cash account all but nugatory, and just as he may 
be congratulating himself on the success of his genius, 
receiving the smiles of Fame, and a trifiing sweetener from 
Threadneedle Street, as a reward for his exertions, he may 
be attacked by Sappers and Miners — those pickers and 
stealers who do not absolutely come under the denomination 
of pickpockets, yet thieves to all intents and purposes, and, 
certainly robhe?'s of the most unprincipled description — a 
set of Vampires living upon ' the brains ' of other persons, 
and dare not to think for themselves." 


Catnach brought out a " whole sheet " of letter-press for 
street-sale, entitled "Life in London," with twelve woodcuts, 
which are reduced and very roughly executed copies of 
the centre figures of the original plates by the ;Brothers 
Cruikshank — but all in reverse. The letter-press matter 
consists of flash songs, and a poetical epitome of the plot and 
design of the original work of "Life in London." And 
taking it as it stands, and from where it emanated, rather a 
creditable performance, particularly when we take into 
consideration — as duly announced by the street-patterer, 
that it was " Just printed and pub — lish — ed, all for the 
low charge of twopence." 

On the rarity of this Catnachian and pirated edition of 
"Life in London" it is superfluous to enlarge, and it is easy to 
account for this circumstance, if we reflect that the broad- 
side form of publication is by no means calculated for 
preservation ; hundreds of similar pieces printed for street- 
sale must have perished. The more generally acceptable 
a broadside or street ballad became, and was handed 
about for perusal, the more it was exposed to the danger of 
destruction. No copy of Catnach's version is preserved in 
the British Museum, therefore, and for the reason above 
stated, it must be considered as a great " Literary Rarity."* 

* Our thanks are due, and are hereby given to Mr. Crawford Jojin 
Pocock, of Cannon Place, Brighton, for the loan and use of his — what 
we feel almost inclined to consider — unique copy of Catnach's broadside 
of " Life in London," and who, on our incidentally mentioning to him 
that we had failed to discover a copy in the British Museum, or in the 
stock of several well-known booksellers, at once, and in the most 
unreserved manner, informed us that not only did he possess a copy of 
the broadside we were in search of, but that it was veiy much at our 
service to aid us in perfecting our work. This was so much like the 
true and genuine Book Collector, and apart from that of the order 
"Curmudgeon," that we take this opportunity of publicly thanking him 
on behalf of ourselves and readers, who are thus enabled to peruse a 
faithful reprint of this rarity in street-literature. 




A New Song, of Flash, Fashion, Frolic, and Fun. 

COME all ye swells and sporting blades who love to see good fun, 
Who in the dark, to have a lark, a mile or two would run ; 
Here 's a dish of entertainment which cannot fail to please, 
The rigs of Tom and Jerry, and all their jolly sprees. 

With their dash along, flash along, to Life and London haste away. 
Where sprees and rambles, larks and gambols, is the time of day. 

From Hawthorn-Hall young Jerry came to see his cousin Tom, 
And with his friend Bob Logick acquainted soon became, 
Then to cut a dash, he learns the flash, to act high life and low, 
And up and down through all the town at night they rambling go. 

In a morning at Tattersall's you may them often see, 
! 'Mong jockies, grooms, and chaunters, a knowing company ; 
In the afternoon they 're lounging in Burlington Arcade, 
And at night they 're at the Opera, a Ball, or Masquerade. 


Among the milling kiddy coves young Jerry took delight, 
And was always first to raise a purse to have a glorious fight, 
A Fancy blade he then became, and his courage ran so high, 
That in his room, he floor'd his groom, and black'd his valet's eye. 

Then off to Leicester-fields they 'd march, the Strand, or Dmry-lane, 
Among the sporting ladies to carry on the game, 
They 'd take them to a gin-shop and treat them round so civil. 
Then spur them on to fight and scratch each other like the devil. 

While rambling up and down one night they came to Temple-Bar, 
And to have a spree, they did agree, 'gainst the Charlies to make war. 
Then in the twinkling of an eye a watch-box was upset. 
The Watchy roar'd till all was blue, but out he could not get. 

They smash'd their lanterns, kick'd their shins, and did their 
pipkins crack. 
And laid them down so neatly one by one upon their backs, 
The prigs and sporting ladies all joined in the row. 
But Jeriy, Tom, and Logick by the pigs [watchmen] were ta'en in tow. 

Then to the Holy Land they went disguis'd from top to toe. 
To see the Beggar's Opera where all the Cadgers go. 
With Mahogany Bet they had a lark. Black Moll, and Dumpling Kate, 
And treated all the apple-women with a yard of tape [gin]. 

Now, with your leave good folks I will conclude my flashy song, 
I hope you 're entertained, and I 've not detain'd you long, 
And Logick, Tom, and Jerry, do cordially unite. 
To thank you for your patronage, and wish you all Good Night, 
With their dash along, &c. 


FROM over the hills and far away, 
Where rustic sports employ each day, 
Young Jerry came, with cousin Tom, 
To see the rigs of London Town. 
Of all that e'er he did or saw, 
A faithful i)icture here we draw. 


CUT I.— Ji;rry in Training for a Swell. 

"^VXOW Jerry must needs be a swell, 
-LM His coat must have a swallow-tail, 
And Mr. Snip, so handy, O, 
Soon rigg'd him out a Dandy, O. 
Then hey for Life and London Town, 
To swagger Bond Street up and down. 
And wink at every pretty maid 
They meet in Burlington Arcade. 

CUT II.— Tom and Jerry among the Ladies. 


LADIES, your most humble servants, 
Tom and Jerry stand before you. 
Our blood is thrilling, you 're so killing ; 

At once we love you and adore you. 
Let us softly sit beside you ; 

Trust us, you will quickly own. 
That love's alarms hath sweeter charms 
Than joys e'er yet to mortal known. 

CUT III.— Jerry Loses at Play. 

AT St. James's they dine, when, flush'd with new wine 
To the Gaming Tables they reel, 
Where blacklegs and sharps, often gammon the flats, 

As their pockets do presently feel. 
Success at first Jerry delighted, 

But ere the next morning he found 

That his purse was most cleverly lighted 

Of nearly Five Thousand Pounds. 



CUT IV.— Jerky^Lkarninc, to Spar. 

^\"7^0W Jerry 's become a Fancy blade, 

J^> To Jackson's he often goes, 

And to shew his skill in the milling trade, 

He crack'd poor Logick's nose. 
He gloried in having a turn-up, 

And was always the first in a lark, 
To bang and wallop the Charlies, 

And pommil them in the dark. 

CUT V. — Tom and Jerry at a Fortune-Tellers. 


HERE lives a Fortune-Telling Gipsy, 
Wrinkled, crabbed, grim and old ; 
And Tom and Jerry's fancy ladies 

Are gone to get their Fortunes told. 
They slily view'd them, and pursued them. 

For to have some glorious fun. 
Behind the curtain, see them sporting, 
This is Life in London Town. 

CUT VI. — Beggar's Opera. Tom, Jerry, and Logick among 
THE Cadgers in the Holy Land. 

"VT'OW to keep up the spree, Tom, Jerry, and Logick, 
-Li Went disguis'd to the Slums in the Holy Land ; 
Through each crib and each court, they hunted for sport, 

Till they came to the Beggar's Opera so nam'd; 
But sure such a sight they had never set sight on, 

The quintessence of Tag, Rag, and Bob-Tail was there : 
Outside of the door Black Molly was fighting, 

And pulling Mahogany Bet by the hair. 
There was cobblers and tailors, sweeps, cadgers, and sailors, 

Enough to confound Old Nick with their din ; 
There was hunters, and ranters, and radical chaunters, 

Clubbing their half-pence for (|uarterns of gin. 


Some were descrying the traps [officers] of Red Lion,* 

Some were preparing their matches for sale; 
And a surly old duchess, with one of her crutches, 

Had floor'd a blindman for capsizing her ale. 
A tinker was bawling, a dustman was hauling 

His drunk wife to bed, whom he 'd given a black eye, 
For the which Mother Drake, shook her fist in his face, 

And pray'd that his Last Dying Speech she might cry. 
Our blades stood delighted, and view'd all around them, 

Whgn in popp'd Black Billy [Waters] as brisk as a bee, 
He struck up his fiddle, they all gather'd round him, 

And chaunted this Classical stave in high glee. 

Song of the Cadgers in the Holy Land. 

COME, let us dance and sing, 
While fam'd St. Giles' bells shall ring, 
Black Billy scrapes the fiddle string, 

Little Jemmy fills the Chair. 
Frisk away, let 's be gay, 
This is Cadger's holiday ; 
While knaves are thinking, we are drinking, 
Bring in more gin and beer. 

Come, let us dance and sing, &c. 

Here 's Dough-boy Bet, and Silver Sail, 
Dusty Bob, and Yankee Moll, 

* In Red Lion Square is the office of the Mendicity Society — the 
terror of beggars and impostors. — " I say, my lads, what do you think 
happened to me the other day ? I vas carried up afore the — the — -vot 
d 'ye call it — Mantikity Society, and vot do you think they did ? Vy, 
they slapped a pick-axe into vone of my mauleys, and a shovel into the 
other, and told me to vork. I said, gemmon, says I, I can't vork, 'cause 
vy, I vas too veak ; so I bolted off, and in sich a 'urry that I left both 
my crutches behind, so now I ain't got no tools to vork with. " 



And Suke, as black as any pall, 

The pinks of the Holy Land. 
Now, merry, merrj', let us be. 
There 's none more happier sure than we. 
For what we get we spend it free, 
As all must understand ! 

Come, let us dance, &c. 

Now he that would merry be, 

Let him drink and sing as we, 

In palaces you shall not see, 
Such happiness as here. 

Then booze about, our cash an't out. 

Here 's sixpence in a dirty clout ; 

Come, landlord, bring us in more stout, 
Our pension-time draws near. 
Come, let us dance, &c. 

CUT VII.— Night Scene. Tom and Jerry upsetting the 


HARK ! the watchman springs his rattle, 
Now the midnight lark 's begun ; 
Boxes crashing, lanthorns smashing, 
Mill the Charlies — oh ! what fun. 

Pigs are hauling, girls are bawling. 
Wretch, how durst you bang me so. 

My sconce you 've broken — for your joking 
You shall to the watch-house go. 

CUT VIII. — Brought before the Magistrate. 

AN' please your Worship here 's three fellows 
Been hammering of us all about ; 
Broke our boxes, lanterns, smellers, 

And almost clos'd our peepers up. 
Our pipkins broke. Sir, — 'tis no joke. Sir, 
Faith, we 're crush'd from head to toe ; 
We 're not the men, Sir ! — Hold your tongue, Sir, 
You must find bail before you go ! 

K 2 


CUT IX. — Tom, Jerry, and Logick in a Row. 

MERCY ! what a din and clatter 
Breaks the stillness of the night, 
Lamps do rattle — 'tis a battle, 

Quick, and let us see the sight, 
Old and young at blows like fury, 

Tom and Jerry leads the row. 

Milling, flooring all before them, 

This is Life in London, boys. 

CUT X.— Scene in a Gin-Shop. 


HERE some is tumbling and jumping in, 
And some are staggering out ; 
One 's pawn'd her smock for a quartern of gin, 

Another, her husband's coat. 
Behold, Mr. Tom and Jerry, 

Have got an old bawd in tow. 
They sluic'd her with gin, 'till she reel'd on her pins, 
And was haul'd off to quod for a row. 

CUT XI. — Poor Logick in the Fleet. 

ALL in the Fleet poor Logick 's moor'd. 
His swaggering 's now at an end, 
And Tom and Jerry are gone on board, 

Their friendly assistance to lend. 
Now, their sprees and gambols are closed, 

For, Logick has vow'd and swore, 
When he 's from Limbo safe loosed. 
Ho '11 marry — and rake no more. 


CUT XII.— Jerry Going Back to the Country. 

THREE merry boys were Logick, Tom, and Jerry, 
And many funny larks they have seen ; 
Now Logick 's got a uife, so has Tom, and Mr. Jerry 

Is going back to Devonshire again. 
Farewell, gay London, the country calls me home again, 

Where my pretty Susan at my absence does complain ; 
Yet, Jerry kindly wishes to all his friends health, peace, and 


The coach moves on — the play is done — Good-bye, Good- 

Quod, JAS. C-N-H, March 23, 1822. 

With the *' Life in London," its language became the 
language of the day ; drawing-rooms were turned into 
chaffing cribs, and rank and beauty learned to patter slang. 

As we have before observed, "Life in London" was 
dedicated by permission to George IV., and it is a circum- 
stance in itself which looks singular enough in this Victorian 
age, that royalty should have condescended to have had 
such a work dedicated to it ; one paragraph, which we are 


about to quote, strikes us as being a very peculiar and free- 
and-easy style for an author to address himself to a King 
of England. It is as follows : — 

" Indeed, the whole chapter of ' Life in London ' has 
been so repeatedly perused by your Majesty in such a 
variety of shapes, from the elegant A, the refined B, the 
polite C, the lively D, the eloquent E, the honest F, the 
stately G, the peep-o'-day H, the tasteful I, the manly J, the 
good K, the noble L, the stylish M, the brave N, the liberal 
O, the proud P, the long-headed Q, the animated R, the 
witty S, the flash T, the knowing U, the honourable V, the 
consummated W, the funny X, the musical Y, and the 
poetical Z, — that it would only be a waste of your Majesty's 
valuable time to expatiate further upon this subject." 

One notable effect of " Life- in London," particularly in 
its dramatised form, must be recorded. It broke the heart 
of poor Billy Waters, the one-legged musical negro, who 
died in St. Giles's workhouse, on Friday, March 21, 1823, 
whispering with his ebbing breath, a mild anathema, which 
sounded very much like : " Cuss him, dam Tommy Jerry." 
Poor Billy, who was born in America, and lost his leg by 
falling from the top-sail yard to the quarter deck, in the 
Ganymede sloop of Avar, under the command of Sir John 
Purvis, endeavoured up to the period of his last illness, 
to obtain for a wife and two children what he termed 
" An honest living by scraping de cat-gut !" by which he 
originally collected considerable sums of money at the 
West-end of the town, where his ribbon-decked cocked hat 
and feathers, with the grin on his countenance, and sudden 
turn and kick out of his wooden limb, and other antics and 
efforts to please, excited much mirth and attention, and 
were well rewarded from the pockets of John Bull. The 
burden of Billy's ditty " From noon to dewy eve," and from 
January to December was: — 


Kitty will you marry me, 

Kitty will you cry — 
Kitty will you marry me, 

Kitty will you cry ! cry — cry ! 

Billy became unfortunate — his occupation gone. The 
fickle British public refused to be as liberal as they had 
been, which he attributed to the production of " Tom and 
Jerry," with whom he was made to take his Madeira 
and Champagne, also to complain when he had " No 
capers cut for de leg ob mutton, Bah ! " " No real 
turtle, but de mock turtle ! No lem'un to him weal, 
no hoysters to him rum'-steak. Vat ! " he was made to 
exclaim, " Vat 's dat I hears ! No sassingers to de turkey ? — 
de Alderman vidout him chain. Damme, Landlord, me 
change my hotel to-morrow." 

However, by a combination of events, Billy became very 
poor, and was obliged, prior to his going into the workhouse, 
to part with his old friend, the fiddle, for a trifling sum at 
the pawnbroker's ; and the wooden pin (leg) which had so 
oft^n supported Billy, would have shared the same fate, but 
its extensive service had rendered it worthless though it had 
twice saved poor Billy from the penalties of the Treadmill. 
He received a trifling pension after he left the naval service. 

A short time prior to his death, Billy Waters was elected 
King of a party of Beggars in St. Giles's, in consequence of 
his notoriety. 

Of all the occupations, 

A beggar's life 's the best ; 
For whene'er he 's weary. 

He '11 lay him down and rest. 
And a begging we will go, we '11 go, we '11 go ; 
And a begging we will go ' 




Billy was considered of sufficient public importance, when 
in tlie flesh, to be moulded and well bakedhy a Potter, who, 
taking up and moistening a lump of clay, said, " Be ware ! " 
and then turned Billy out in one of his happiest moods and 
positions, with a broad grin on his black mug — a perfect 
image, suitable for a chimney or sideboard ornament ; 
Avhich found a ready sale at -the time of its manufacture, 
but has now become very rare in perfect condition, and, 
much coveted by collectors to add to their Class, or Section 
of " English Characters." Specimens of this style of 
ware are exhibited at the Brighton Free Public Library, 
by Henry Willett, Esq. 

How delightful Pierce Egan's book was to the youths of 
England, and how eagerly all its promised feasts of pleasure 
were devoured by them, Thackeray has told us in his 
" Roundabout Papers — De Juventute" — in the "Cornhill 
Magazine" for October, i860. 

Mr., afterwards Sir William Cubitt, of Ipswich, erected a 
treadmill at Brixton Gaol, and soon afterwards in other large 
prisons. A street ballad on the subject was issued from the 
" Catnach Press" and had a most unprecedented sale, keep- 
ing the pressmen and boys working for weeks — 

"And we're all treading, tread, tread, treading, 
And we're all treading at fam'd Brixton Mill." 

The treadmill — that "terror to evildoers" — excited much 
attention, and the inventor's name gave rise to many jokes 
on the subject among such of the prisoners who could laugh 
at their own crimes, who said that they were punished by 
the cubit ! The following punning ditty was very popular 
at the period : — 


The Treadmill. 

This Brixton Mill 's a fearful ill, 
And he who brought the Bill in, 
Is threatn'd by the cribbing coves, 

That he shall have a milling. 
They say he shew'd a simple pate, 

To think of felons mending : 
As every step which here they take, 
They 're still in crime ascending. 

And when releas'd, and in the streets 

Their former snares they 're spreading, 
They swear 'tis Parliament, which wills 

They must their old ways tread in. 
The Radicals begin to think 

'Twill touch the Constitution, 
For as the wheel moves round and round, 

It brings a Revolution. 

But though these snarlers show their teeth, 

And try to vex the nation, 
Their actions soon are tried Vi.n&Judg'd, 

And grinding is their station. 
The Gambling swells, who near St. James' 

Have playd their double dealings. 
Say 'tis not fair that Bow-street should 

Thus work upon their feelings. 

Tom, Jerry, Logic, three prime sprigs, 

Find here they cannot come it, 
For though \\\€\x fancy soars aloft. 

They ne'er will reach the summit. 
Corinthian Kate and buxom Sue 

Must change their warm direction. 
For if they make one false step more 

They '11 have Cold Bath Correction. 


The moon-struck youths who haunt the stage. 

And spend their master's siller, 
Must here play to another tune, 

'Tis called the Dusty Milk)'. 
Ye bits of blood (the watchman's dread) 

Who love to floor a Charley, 
As you delight to strip and fight, 

Come forth and ;;//// the barley. 

John Barleycorn V a stout old blade, 

As every man puts trust in, 
And you will make no meal of him, 

But he '11 give you a dusting. 
But here we'll stay, iox pmis they say, 

Are bad as stealing purses 
And I to Brixton may be sent, 

To grind s,ome floury verses. 

A SxEi' IN THE Wrong Direction. 



A mournful and affecting 


on the death of 

Who was barbarously and cruelly murdered by her sweetheart, 
W. JONES, near Wirksworth, in Derbyshire, July, 1823. 

wmiua iMm. • jvug au iitd n, ku tieen i'Htj coaoltud 
la I>«rb7 gMl rw Iha iranlu e/ hu iVMUicart. ludv draira. 
aUsea c/ luheanl of Utbarii;. Tlu pMr rtetim «u a aatml 
ffrl, wbcm aodar pratCM* of marriage b« >8diioe4. Oo bar arorin| 
Mb ckiU tbe rOlaij toTKol Ihr bcnM dsslgnof isardcrbi; bar, 
•a4 oHcd bia .diaboHcal plan int« cxoeutioft oo Bfaodaj eTCBiof 
laaL Tka follonlai rniai ira wrillM upon llu Mcaaioo, giriof I 
caopWa dauil ol Ma ihoclriac afaii j— 

Coma all Colao hearted fonog meo 

A'*d liflteo to mj aong, 
'Tifl of,B crtiel mardei^ 

Tbat lau!^ boa been done 
On the bodv of a niaidea fiai^ 

The trath I will unfold, 
The >afe relation of ^ie deed 

Will make yonr blood run cold., 
Ne«r ■Wirksworth towc in Derbjdiin, 

Ann WUli«m» ahs did dwell. 
In aerricc ahe long timd had lircd. 

Till thia to her bafel. 
Her cheeka were like tbo blushing rott 

All in the month of May, 
Which made thia wicked young mas 

Thua unto her did eay : 
I^aocy, my cfaaiming creature, 

You have my heart enanored. 
My loTe is scch I am reaolred 

To wed you I declare. 
Thua by- his falae deluding tongne 

Poor Nancy waa begttil'd. 
And Boon to her miafortuno, 

By him eho prored irith child 
Some days ago thia damaol fair 

Did « rite to him with apeed, 
Buch tendemeaa ahe did expiea^ 

Would make ■ heart to bleed. 
She adid. my deareat WiUiam, 

I am with child by thee, 
Therefore, my dear, pray let me\no» 

When you will marry oe. 
The following day at evening, 

Tbia young mau did repair. 
Unto tne town of Wirkavorth, 

To meet hia Nancy there. 
Saying, Nancy dear, come let oa wslk. 

Among the flowery flelda, 
And then the aecreta of my heart 

To you I will reical. 
then thia wicked yonng man 

A knife bo did provide, - 
And all unknown to his true love 

Concealed it by hia aide. 
When to the fatal spot they came. 

Thiiie woiii to her did 8«y : 
iU on thia very night I will 

Yonr prociouB life betray. 
On bended kseea ahe then did &I1, 

1ti sorrow and despair, 
Aloud fo): merer she did oall. 

Her oriea did rend the air \ 
With clasped hancfa and upliit eyo* 

She cried, Ob spare my life, 
t never more will oak you 

To make me your wedded wife. 
O then thia wicked young man aoid, 

Ko mercy will I show ; 
He took the luife all from hia nde. 

And pierced her body Ihron^^ 
But still abe smiling soid to bun. 

While trombling with feur,. 
Aa! William, WiUiam, spare iiy life , 

Think on your baby dear. 
Twiee mor« then with the bloody knifc 

He ran her body through, 
Her throat was cut from ear to ear, 

Xoat dreadful for to view ; 
Her hands ood arms and beauteous Cica 

The crimson blood did poor. 
He took the shawl from off her neck. 

And round her body tied, 
^ith pebble stones he did it fill. 

Thinking the crime to hide. 
then into the silver stream 

He plonged her straiKhtway, 
fiat with her prcdoua blood woa staine 

Which soon did him betray. 
O then this young man taken wa^ 

And into, prison sent, 
-In ratling chaina he ia confin'd; 

Hia cnme for to lament. 
Until the Aasixee do oome on 

When tretnbh'og he mnat stand, 
Eefleotjnjj on the deed bo's done ; 

Waiting the dread cojnmand. 
Now all you thoughtIe<< young uen 

A timely warning take ; 
likewise ye fair yimng moidena. 

For thia poor damaclS oako. 
And Oh beware of flattering tongues. 

For they'll your ruin prove ; 
80 may you crown your Aituro day, 

In comfort, joy, and love 

> Warthoaae. e, Craal SI. aadm ( 



Thurtell Murdering Mr. Weare. 

Catnach's next "great go" was the "Full, True, and 
Particular Account of the Murder of Weare by Thurtell 
and his Companions, which took jDlace on the 24th of 
October, 1823, in Gill's Hill Lane, near Elstree, in Hert- 
fordshire. — Only One Penny." There were eight formes set 
up, for Old Jemmy had no notion of stereotyping in those 
days, and pressmen had to recover their own sheep-skins, 
and , struggled away at the two-pull squeezer at the rate of 
200 or 300 copies an hour, and considered that wonderful 1 
But by working night and day for a week they managed to 
get off about 250,000 copies with the four presses, each 
working two formes at a time. The horrible details of the 
murder, together with the daring character of the perpetrator. 


was sufficient to rouse a feeling of indignation in the breast 
of every well-thinking individual in the kingdom. The 
number of copies which Catnach printed on this occasion 
was enormous. 

Catnach made over ;^5oo by Weare's murder and 
Thurtell's trial and execution. There were no newspapers 
in those days to give working people particulars of what 
was going on, except a few at yd. and 8^d. a copy, and 
these only circulated amongst the rich and merchants. And 
after the thing had well got wind, " the trade," if such a 
ragged, dirty crew of newsmen as those who assembled by 
hundreds could be called by so respectable a name, com- 
I^lctely filled up Little Earl Street, and there was great 
difficulty in passing in or out of the shop, so Old Jemmy 
had to resort to the plan of taking the money in his shop 
and then giving the hawkers a ticket to go round to Mon- 
mouth Street, where he had another shop, which was used 
as a warehouse, and this helped to divide the crowd, who 
cursed and swore, and created such a teiTible riot because 
they could not get served directly, that the whole neighbour- 
hood was quite alarmed. 

I If the sale of the first account of the murder of Weare 
surprised " the establishment," and put their rapid printing 
process to the proof, the trial out-did it tenfold, for when 
the affair had got thoroughly known, and was looked for on 
a certain day, the demand was tremendous ! Besides his 
own four presses, Catnach set two other printers to work, 
'each of whom set two presses going on it, and so managed 
to turn out nearly 500,000 copies of the trial in about eight 
days. But Catnach deeply regretted this step, for he lost 
more than he gained by the attempt to meet the demand ; 
for, besides giving his competing friends an idea of the good 
thing that was to be made by these penny sheets, it set them 
to cheat him ; for they opened a mart themselves with his 
sheets, and sold away as fast as they could, and kept the 


money afterwards, never giving Catnach a penny after using 
his paper as well ; for in the confusion there was no check 
kept upon the deliveries, there being no time to count, the 
white paper went in by ream and the printed sheets came 
out by the heap, till they were all gone. 

At this particular time he got quite enamoured with the 
idea of illustrating. So great was the demand for the latest 
news connected with the murder, that the publisher siezed 
the opportunity of raising the price of some of the special 
sheets from a penny to twopence. This, according to 
Jemmy's idea, was only just, seeing the great amount of 
extra expense he was incurring by illustrating ; but of all 
the specimens of art, those which the great publisher of 
Monmouth Court used on this occasion, have a right to be 
ranked amongst the most hideous which this or any other 
country has produced. They Avere entirely destitute of taste 
or genius. As the trial progressed, and the case became 
more fully developed, the public mind became almost 
insatiable. Every night and morning large bundles were 
despatched to the principal towns in the three kingdoms. 

An old " paper worker " repeated to Mr. Henry Mayhew, 
from memory, the first and second " Death Verses " on the 
"broad-sheet," of the "Life, Trial, Confession and Exe- 
cution" of John Thurtell, for the murder of Weare : — 

*' Come, all good Christians, praise the Lord, 
And trust to Him in hope. 
God, in his mercy, John Thurtell sent 
To hang from Hertford gallows rope. 

Poor Weare's murder the Lord disclosed — 

Be glory to his name : 
And Thurtell, Hunt, and Probert, too, 

Were brought to grief and shame." 

Then added, " That's just the old thing, sir ; and its quite 


in Old Jemmy Catnach"s style, for he used to write werses— 
anyhow, he said he did, for 1 've heard him say so, and I Ve 
no doubt he did in reality — it was just his favourite style, 
I know, but the march of intellect put it out of doors." 
Another street ballad informed the British public that : — 

"Thurtell, Hunt, and Probert, too, for trial must now 
For that horrid murder of Mr. William Weare." 

Mr. Weare lived at No. 2, in Lyon's Inn, Strand, London, 
The following, taken from a contemporary ballad, was attri- 
buted to Theodore Hook : — 

" They cut his throat from ear to ear. 
His brains they battered in ; 
His name was Mr. William Weare, 
He dwelt in Lyon's Inn." 

Lyon's Inn, lately demolished, was an old Inn of 
Chancery, belonging in former days to the Inner Temple. 
It faced Newcastle Street on its eastern side, between Wych 
Street and Holywell Street ; a " short cut " led to it from the 
Strand to the latter street, the site of which is well defined 
to this day by a carved lion's head, always painted red, 
attached to the premises. No. 37. This side entrance 
was through Home Court, on the opposite side of Holywell 
Street and next to an inn known as the " Dog Tavern" — 
'a house where Samuel Pepys frequently had "a liquor up," 
and "to comfort myself did drink half-a-pint of mulled 
sack" — and which had been an hostelry for some 250 years 
at least before its demolition in 1864, for the purpose of 
carrying out a building speculation of the Strand Hotel 
Company (Limited) — a scheme which ended in a failure, 
except to the few. 'J'he Globe Theatre and Opera Comique 
now occupy a portion of the site of the former Lyon's Inn. 




So popular — or as we should say, " sensational " — was the 
murder of Weare by Thurtell, that little Williams (or Boiled 
Beef Williams, as he was called, by reason of being asso- 
ciated with the once famous Boiled Beef House in the Old 
Bailey, and who, although living at the time within the 
rules of the King's Bench, became the lessee of the Surrey 
Theatre) just after the murder gave a representation of the 

" Gaming is robbery in masquerade.' 

tragic scene in a piece called " The Gamblers," produced 
on Monday, the 17th of November, 1823, and absolutely, 
to give greater eclat to the performance, purchased the horse 
and the "identical chaise" in which the murder was first 
attempted to be committed, and in which Thurtell dro\e 
Weare down to the lonely cottage in Gill's Hill Lane ; also 
"the identical sofa" on which Thurtell slept the night of 
the'murder, and "the identical table" round which the 
party supped, appeared on the stage. The allusions in 
this drama to the dreadful e\ent, were too palpable to be 


1 iverlooked by the professional gentlemen retained by the 
family of Thurtell, for his defence, at the approaching trial, 
and in reference to this fact we find in "The News" of 
November 22nd, 1S23, the following: — 

COURT OF KING'S BENCH, Wednesday, Nov. 19, 


Mr. Chitty, being called on, rose and said, "I am 
instructed to move your Lordships on behalf of John 
Thurtell, a prisoner in jail on a charge of murder, for a rule 
calling on Llewellyn Williams, the proprietor of the Surrey 
Theatre to show cause why a criminal information should 
not be exhibited against him, for a high misdemeanour, 
tending to pervert the course of justice, and prevent the 
prisoners accused of murder from having an impartial trial. 
My Lords, he has advertised all over London, and repre- 
sented in his theatre, the alleged circumstances of this very 
crime. There is an actor who personates Thurtell ; he is 
shown in company with the deceased, and he is represented 
in the act of committing murder. There was last night a 
large audience to witness this scandalous performance, and 
the excitement of feeling, when the actor who performs the 
^murderer is secured, was quite unexampled, and could 
'scarcely be believed as occurring in this country. The 
hand-bill announced the performance for the whole week. 

The Lord Chief Justice. — How do you prove Mr. 
Williams to be the proprietor. 

Mr. Chitty. — My Lord, he has admitted himself to be so ; 
and I move also against the printer, whose name is affixed 
to the play-bill. 

The Lord Chief Justice. — Take a rule to show cause. 

L 2 


On the 24th of November, Mr.- Denman and Mr. Barne- 
well, on behalf of the proprietor, and Mr. Marryatt, on 
behalf of the printer, appeared to show cause against the 
rule. The matter underwent a long discussion, and ulti- 
mately the rule was discharged as far as related to the 
printer, and made absolute with regard to the proprietor and 
manager of the theatre. 

The following is George Ruthven's account of the appre- 
hension of Thurtell and the others in the horrible murder. ■ 

" After it had been ascertained that it was human blood 
and human, hair on the pistol, and Hunt and Probert were 
in custody, I left in order to secure John Thurtell. I found 
him at Mr. Tetsall's, at the sign of the Coach and Horses, 
Conduit Street, Hanover Square. I said — 

" * John, my boy, I want you.' 

" ' What for, George ?' said he. 

" I replied, ' Never mind ; I '11 tell you presently.' 

" Thurtell had been anticipating various proceedings 
against him for setting his house on fire in the City, by Mr. 
Barber Beaumont, on behalf of the County Fire Office. It 
was highly probable that he suspected I wanted him on 
that charge. He, however, prepared to accompany me. 
My horse and chaise were at the door. He got in, and I 
handcuffed him to one side of the rail of my trap. I drove 
on towards Hertford. On the road, nothing could be more 
chatty and free than the conversation on the part of Thurtell. 
If he did suspect where I was going to take him, he played 
an innocent part very well, and artfully pretended total 
ignorance. We had several glasses of grog on the road. 
When we arrived, I drove up to the inn where Probert and 
Hunt were in charge of the local constables. 

" ' Let us have some brandy and water, George,' said 
Thurtell, after we had shaken hands with his associates. I 
went out of the rooni to order it. 

" ' Give us a song,' said Thurtell ; and Hunt, who was a 
beautiful singer, struck up, 


" ' Mary, list, awake ! ' 

" I paused, with the door in my hand, and said to myself 
* Is it possible that these men are murderers.' " 

The circumstances immediately attending the murder are 
so fully and so well detailed in the proper channels that we 
need not here say more than that the trial took place at 
Hertford on the 5th January, 1824. 

The prisoners who stood indicted were John Thurtell and 
Joseph Hunt. The latter was at the time well known as a 
public singer and was somewhat celebrated for the talent 
which he possessed. Both prisoners were found guilty, but 
Hunt was reprieved and subsec^uently ordered to be trans- 
ported for life. Thurtell, who fully confessed to the crime, 
was executed in front of Hertford gaol on Friday, the 9th of 
January, 1824. 

As before observed, Catnach cleared over ;^5oo by this 
event, and was so loth to leave it, that when a wag put him 
up to a joke, and showed him how he might set the thing 
a-going again, he could not withstand it, and so about a 
fortnight after Thurtell had been hanged. Jemmy brought 
out a startling broad-sheet, headed, " WE ARE ALIVE 
AGAIN !" He put so little space between the words "we" 
and "are," that it looked at first sight like "WEARE." 
Many thousands were bought by the ignorant and gullible 
public, but those who did not like the trick called it a 
" catch penny," and this gave rise to this peculiar term, 
which ever afterwards stuck to the issues of the " Seven 
Dials' Press," though they sold as well as ever. 

Probert, who had been mixed up in the affair, was 
admitted as King's evidence and discharged at the rising of 
the Court. He subsequently met the fate he so richly 
deserved, for, having been found guilty at the Old Bailey of 
horse stealing, he was executed there on the 20th of 
June, 1825. 





On Friday, the 9th of January, 1824. 


Hertford, half-patt lurtht o'etoik. 

This monrtng, at ten minutes before twelve, s bnstle 
among tlie javelin-inen otntioned within the boarded 
encloaui'e en which the drop was erected, annoonced to 
tbe multitude without that the propar^tiotta for the 
execution were nearly concluded. The jarelin-men 
proceeded to aixange themaclves in the ordsr osually 
obserTed upon theac melancholy but neceesory ocour- 
reocee. T)iey had scarcely finished their arraogemcnta, 
when the opening of the gate of the priaon gave an 
additional impulae to public anxiety 

Vhen the clock was on the stroke of tweUe, Mr 
NicholKm, the Under-Sheriff. and the executioner 
aicended the platform, followed on U> it by ThurtcU, 
who mounted the stairs with a alow but steady step. 
The principal turnkey of the gaol cnme next, and wa» 
followed by Mr Wilson ond two officers. On the 
approach of the prisoner being intimated by those 
persons who, being in an derated situation, obtained the 
firs* Tiew of him, all the immense multitude present 
took off their hats. 

Thurlell immediately placed himself under the fatal 
beam, and at that moment the chimes of a neighbouring 
dock began to strike twelve. The executioner then 
came forward with the rope, which he threw across it. 
Thurtell first lifted his eyes up te the drop, gnred at it 
for a few momenta, and theix took a calm but hurried 
Mprey of the multitude around him. He next fixed 

I spectator 

of the firoceedinga against him. Seeing that the 
individual waa affected by the circumstaboe. he removed 
them to another quarter, and in so doing recognised an 
individual well known in ths sporting cirolea, to whom 
he made a slight bow. 

The prisoner was attired in a dark brown great coal, 
with a block velvet collar, white corduroy breeches, 
drab gaiters and shoes. His hands were confined with 
handcuffs, instead of being tied with cord, as is usually 
the case on such occasions, and, at his own request, his 
anns were not pinioned. He wore a pair of black kid 
^oves, and the wrists of bis shirt were visible below 
tiie cnJSa of hi* coat. As on the last day of his trial, 
he wore a white oravat The irons, which were very 
heavy, and oonsistad of a succession of chain links, 
were still on his legs, and were held up in the middle 
by a Belcher handkerchief tied round his waist 

The executioner commenced his moumf\il duties by 
taking from the unhappy prisoner his cravat and collar. 
To obviate all difBculty in this stage of the proceedings, 
^urtell flung book bis head and neck, and so gave the 
e xeoutioaer an opportunity of immediately divesting 
Priniod el ]. fuZ, ~ 

round Thurtell's neok, tho 
cotton cap ovnr his oountcnanoe, which did not, how- 
ever, conceal tho contour of his face, or deprive him 
entirely of the view of surrounding objects. 

At that moment the clock sounded the lest stroke of 
twelve. During the whole of this appalling ceremony, 
there was not the slightest symptom of emotion discer- 
nible in his features.; his demoanonr wss perfectly calm 
and tranquil, and he behaved like a man acquainted 
with the dreadful ordeal he was about to pass, but not 
unprepared to meet it Though his fortitude was thus 
conspicuous, it was evident fhim his sppearasoe that in 
the interval between bis conviction and his executioii 
he must have suffered much. He looked careworn ; his 
countenance had assumed a cadaverous hue, and there 
was a hoggardnesa and lanknees about his cheeks and 
mouth, which cauM not tail to attract the notice of 
every spectator. 

The executioner next proceeded to adjust tho nooae 
by which Thurtell was to he attached to the scaffMld. 
After ho had fastened it in such a manner as to imtisfy 
his own mind, Thurtell looked up at it, and examined 
it with great attention. He then dr.sired tho execu- 
tioner to let him have fall enough The rope at this 
moment seemed as if it would oiJy give a fall of two or 
three feet. The executioner assured him that the &U 
was quite sufficient. The principal turnkey then went 
up to Thurtell, shook hands with him, and turned away 
in tears. Mr Wilson, the governor of the gaoj, next 
approached him. Thurtell said to him, " Do yoa 
think, Mr Wilson, I have got enough fall f" Mr 
Wilson replied, " J think you have. Sir. Yes, quito 
enough." Mr Wilson then took hold of his hand, 
ahook !t, and said, " Good bye, Mr Thurtell, msy God 
Almighty bless you." Thurtell instantly renlied, 
" God bless yon, Mr Wilson, God bless yoa."" Mr 
Wilson next asked him whether he considered that the 
laws of his country had been dealt to him josUy and 
fairly, upon which he said, "I admit that justice baa 
been done ms— I am perfectly satisfied." 

A few seconds then ^elapsed, during which everj 
person seemed to be etigaged in examining narrowly 
Thurtell's deportment. His features, as well as they 
could be discerned, appeared to remain unmoved, and 
his hands, which were extremely prominent, continued 
perfectly steady, and were not affected by the slightest 
tremnlous motion. 

Exactly at two minutes past twelve the Under- 
Sheriff, with his wand, gave the dreadful sigool— Um 
drop suddenly and silently fell— and 

Jobs Tanatxii was utmcHD 
nno GrKunn. 


Wvabsnaei 6, Oraoi Bi Aodnw BlnK 8*va OWa 


On the loth of September, 1824, Henry Fauntleroy, of 
the firm of Marsh, Stracey, Fauntleroy, and Graham, 
bankers, in Berners Street, was apprehended in conse- 
quence of its being discovered that in September, 1820, 
^10,000 3 per cent, stock, standing in the names of him- 
self, J. D. Hume, and John Goodchild, as trustees of 
Francis William Bellis, had been sold out under a power of 
attorney, to which the names of his co-trustees and some 
of the subscribing witnesses were forged. It was soon 
ascertained that the extent to which this practice had been 
carried was enormous, no less than ;,^i 70,000 stock having 
been sold out in 18 14 and 18 15 by the same fraudulent 

The payments of the banking house were immediately 
suspended, and a commission of bankruptcy was the result. 

Mr. Fauntleroy's private conduct became now the subject 
of general conversation, and the street papers were daily 
filled with most exaggerated statements of the depravity of 
his habits. He was said to be a libertine, a deep gamester, 
and most profusely extravagant, but much of what was thus 
stated was afterwards refuted. He married a young lady of 
a respectable but not opulent family, named Young, who 
had previously borne him a child ; but though he was per- 
suaded thus far to redeem her character, he did not live 
with her after the day of their union, and to this unhappy 
circumstance is probably to be attributed much of that 
occasional excess which was magnified into the grossest 

It was for defrauding his wife's family that he was 
executed, the case selected by the Bank for prosecution 
being that of having forged the name of Frances Young, 
spinster, to a power of attorney, under which was sold the 
sum of ;^5,ooo 3 per cent, consols. 

There were certain transactions which Fauntleroy did, 
which only came to light after he was apprehended, and 


which tended to show the extent of his designs, and the' 
unscrupulous manner in which he was determined to perpe- * 
trate his frauds.' 

The trial took place on the 30th of October. At seven 
o'clock the doors leading to the court-house of the Old 
Bailey were besieged. The jury being sworn, the clerk 
read the first indictment, which charged Henry Fauntleroy 
with forging a deed A\dth intent to defraud Frances Young '■ 
of ;z^5,ooo stock. The Attorney-General told the jury that 
although the Bank of England only intended to prosecute 
in this case, the most extraordinary circumstance was that 
amongst the prisoner's private papers contained in a tin box 
there had been found one in which he acknowledged to 
having forged different sums which, added together, amounted 
to ;^i 20,000, and adduced a reason for his conduct, which 
was also in the prisoner's handwriting. The statement was 
followed by this declaration :— " In order to keep up the 
credit of our house, I have forged powers of attorney for 
the above sums and parties, and sold out to the amount 
here stated, and without the knowledge of my partners. I : 
kept up the payments of the dividends, but made no entries 
of such payments in our books. The Bank began first to 
refuse to discount our acceptances, and to destroy the credit 
of our house ; the Bank shall smart for it." 

The Attorney-General then called his witnesses, who 
confirmed in every point his statement of the case, after 
which the prisoner read his defence, giving a lengthened 
statement of the disasters and vicissitudes of the Bank with 
which he had, and his father before him, been connected. 
He was found Guilty of uttering, and sentenced to Death. 
During the whole of the stages of the examination of the 
prisoner before the magistrates, and also before the judges 
who tried him, every advantage, in the shape of getting news, ■ 
was resorted to. There were several circun\stances connected 
with the case before the op[)rehension of P\iuntleroy which, ; 


by some means, got to the ear of Catnach, who made the 
most of his knowledge by pubHshing many "papers" in 
connection therewith. The princi]jal portion of the metropo- 
litan press were at this time above giving ear to mere idle 
gossip, and there was a delicacy about the matter which 
required every caution and consideration, as the criminal 
was a man who had maintained a good standing in the 
world ; he resided in one of the most fashionable streets in 
the metropolis, and had an establishment in the Western 
Road, Brighton, where his mother and sister resided during 
the fashionable season ; and he moved in the gay and select 
circles of London life. When these things are considered, 
it is not surprising that so much interest should have been 
taken in the career of one who had been regarded and 
respected by the citizens of the greatest city in the world. 

Every exertion was used by Mr. Fauntleroy's counsel, his 
case being twice argued before the Judges, but both 
decisions were against him ; and on the 30th November, 
1824, his execution took place. The number of persons 
assembled was estimated at nearly 100,000. Every window 
and roof which could command a view of the dreadful 
ceremony was occupied, and places from which it was im- 
possible to catch a glimpse of the scaffold were blocked up 
by those who were prevented, by the dense crowd before 
them, from advancing further. 

The station in society of this unfortunate man, and the 
long-established respectability of the banking-house, in which 
he was the most active partner, with the vast extent of 
the forgeries committed, gave to his case an intensity of 
interest which has scarcely ever been ecjualled, and during 
the whole time it was pending afforded plenty of work for 
the printers and vendors of street literature, and Catnach's 
advanced position, which was now far beyond all his com- 
peers, caused him to get the lion's share. Every incident in 
the man's character, history, and actions was taken advan- 


tage of. The sheets, almost wet from the press, ^yere read 
by high and low ; by those who lived and revelled in marble 
halls and gilded saloons, as well as by those who throng 
our large towns and centres of industry. 

The faux pas of Edmund Kean, the eminent actor, with 
the wife of Alderman Cox, a proprietor and member of the 
Committee of Management of Drury Lane Theatre, in 1825, 
led to a lawsuit, on the termination of which Kean was 
compelled to pay ^800 damages, proved a rich harvest for 
the street ballad singers. Catnach printed one that became 
for the time very popular and commanded for some months 
a large sale. It was entitled : — 

COX versus KEAN ; 


Little Breeches. 

" With his ginger tail he did assail, and did the prize obtain, 
This Merry Little Wanton Bantam Cock of Drury Lane — 

.Little Breeches." 

Our tragedian being completely overwhelmed by an 
aldermanic Coxonian tornado, and hissed from the stages 
of Drury Lane and Edinburgh, was ordered by his forensic 
doctors to breathe the air of the broad Atlantic and visit 
the United States for the second time. After two seasons 
he returned ; but though favourably received once more, 
his career was ne3.r its end. In 1833 he was announced to 
play the part of Othello, his son Charles being cast for 
lago. Kean struggled through the opening scenes of the 
play, but when he came to the speech, " Villain, be sure you 
prove my love," — Act iii., sc. 3. — he sank exhausted upon 
his son's shoulder, and was led off the stage. This was his 
last appearance. He died at Richmond, May 15, 1833. 


The parliamentary election of 1826 for the county of 
Northumberland, the principal seat of which was at Alnwick, 
gave early promise of being severely contested. There 
were four candidates in the field, namely, Henry Thomas 
Liddell, now first Earl of Ravensworth, of Ravensworth 
Castle, county Durham ; Mr. Matthew Bell, of Woolsingham, 
Northumberland ; Mr. Thomas ^^'entworth Beaumont, and 
Lord Howick, now Henry the third Earl Grey, K.G. The 
nomination of the candidates took place on Tuesday, June 
20th, 1826, and the polling continued till July 6th, when the 
result was as follows : — 

Liddell 1562 

Bell 1380 

Beaumont ... ... ... ... 1335 

Howick ... ... ... ... 977 

Lord Howick retired some time before the close of the 
poll, and was returned to the same Parliament for Winchelsea, 
and sat 1826 — 30. 

This contest was the greatest political event in the history 
of the county. It is estimated that it cost the candidates 
little short of ;^25o,ooo, and presented the peculiar feature 
of a Whig and a Tory coalescing together. Liddell and Bell 
were both Tories, yet each of them coalesced with one of 
the other party. 

Now, as we have before observed, Mr. Mark Smith, who 
at the present time of writing, carries on the business of 
printer and bookseller of Alnwick,* and James Catnach 
were fellow apprentices, both being bound to learn the art 
of printing to the elder Catnach on the same day, and 
afterwards worked together for a short time with Mr. 

* Wanted, an Apprentice to the Printing Business, who may be made- 
a_Freeman of Alnwick. — Apply to Mr. M. Smith. — The Alimnck 
Journal, May, 1877. 


Joseph Graham, the printer at Alnwick. This early-formed 
acquaintanceship continued throughout the remaining portion 
of Catnach's life, and whenever Mr. Mark Smith went to 
London in after years he always visited Jemmy's house. 

During the time Catnach was in business, several Alnwick 
young men who had made their way to the metropolis, 
which was then considered to be almost a necessary step in 
order to get more insight and experience in their respective 
trades, called upon him at Monmouth Court, when he always 
gave them a hearty welcome and a "cup o' kindness." 
Many of these young Northumbrians and their newly-formed 
London friends, when the labours of the day were over, 
made it their business to meet at the house of the printer 
and afterwards adjourn to a neighbouring tavern, and there 
they used to sing or hear sung ballads that had been com- 
posed and printed during the day, and at parting would have 
their pockets filled with the latest productions from his press. 
At these meetings several very amusing scenes often occurred. 
Jemmy was a bit of a poet; he had courted the Muses; 
although, if Ave are to take some of the pieces which appeared 
in the "awfuls" as specimens of poetic genius, we are 
afraid they will not reach the standard of the present day. 
When seated beside his friends he was' particularly fond of 
reading aloud to them his latest productions ; and it was 
amusing to see the flush of pride pass over his face when 
any of the company were so musically endowed as to be able 
to sing the verses to a tune of any kind. 

Mr. James Horsley, Mr. Mark Smith, and Mr. Thomas 
Robertson are now nearly all that remain of Jemmy 
Catnach's old Alnwick friends. Mr. John Robertson, who 
was so fond of fun, and who could relate so many amusing 
stories of Catnach and his eccentricities, has long been 
dead. He was in London when Jemmy was imprisoned for 
libelling Pizzey, the sausage maker of Blackmore Street, 
Drury Lane. Mr. Thomas Robertson, who for upwards of 


fifty years has carried on an extensive business in Alnwick 
as cabinet maker, was, when in London, a constant visitor at 
the house of Catnach, and with whom he spent many 
evenings. Mr. Thomas Robertson, who had a fine voice, 
used to sing the tune over while Jemmy composed. Many 
a ballad was thus produced : the elaboration of the ideas, 
the length of lines, and the setting of the type all going on 
simultaneously, " Sing that over again, Tom," was a frequent 
request, when the verse and music did not satisfy Jemmy's 
ear, and after repeated efforts, it was pronounced fit for the 
national taste, and then printed off for immediate sale. 

Mr. Robertson is still a hearty old man, and fond of 
relating stories of his younger days. 

It was in consequence of the continued friendship existing 
between Mr. Mark Smith and Jemmy Catnach that the latter 
had often expressed a desire to serve his fellow-apprentice, 
should circumstances occur to render it necessary. The 
Alnwick election of 1826 promised to be a good one as 
regarded printing, and Mr. Smith anticipating a difficulty in 
getting through his work, applied to Catnach to know if he 
could render him any assistance. The result was that 
Jemmy at once proffered to go to Alnwick and take with him 
a small hand-press. After his arrival he seldom went out of 
the house. He kept remarkably close to his work, so 
much so that Mr. Smith was greatly surprised at the change 
which had come over his friend. He had his meals with 
Mr. Smith and his family, but he rigidly adhered to the 
custom which had governed his actions when in London, by 
always sitting down without a coat on, or, in what people 
term, "shirt sleeves." He worked early and late, as besides 
addresses, squibs, &c., they had to get out the state of the 
poll every afternoon shortly after four o'clock. The number 
of addresses and squibs, in prose and verse, during this 
memorable election was enormous. The whole, when col- 
lected together, forms four good-size volumes. The principal 


printers in Alnwick at this time, and who were engaged by 
the candidates, were Smith, Davison, and Graham. But 
there was a great deal of printing done at Newcastle, Gates- 
head, North Shields, Morpeth, and other towns. 

A recent writer in a serial article in " The Alnwick 
Journal," which he entitles " Reminiscences of Alnwick, 
by a Native," writes as follows on this memorable election 
and other local matters of the same period : — 

"During the contested election of 1826, on a Saturday afternoon, 
there came on a thunderstorm, accompanied by a tremendous fall of 
rain, which swept down Clayport Bank, choked the grates a little 
below the Union Court, then continuing onward carrying all before, it ; 
when it came to the foot of the street, part of the flood broke into the 
Market Place, to the amazement of the clerks in the polling booths, 
who were up to their knees in an instant, while the other portion over- 
whelmed the wares of the muggers, which were spread on the ground 
for sale ; and a crate containing a child was carried down to the low 
end of the shambles before it could be rescued, which was done at last 
at great risk. The frantic behaviour of the poor mother, the pots, 
dishes, straw, cart covers, horse trappings, and the necessariep belonging 
to camp life, all driven higglede-pigglede along, made this an exciting 
scene, not to be forgotten by those who witnessed it. The spoils of the 
flood landed in the slack opposite the residence of Messrs. Moffat the 
hatters, which was a low old-fashioned place. The brothers, together 
with a traveller, were sitting in a room adjoining their shop when in 
rushed the water, upsetting the table at which they were sitting, and 
carrying away all that would swim, amongst which were two £<^ notes. 
Subsequently one of them was found sticking to a grate in the wall at 
the foot of the yard. Contrast this and the ricketty place adjoining, 
once occupied by Thomas Finlay with his hack horses and gigs to let, 
with the present beautiful range of shops where energy and business 
habits seem to prevail." 

There can be but little doubt but that all who were pro- 
fessionally engaged at this election made a good thing out 
of it. The money spent upon printing alone must have 
been very great. And nearly all the public-houses in 
Alnwick were made " open houses," as well as most of those 
in the principal towns throughout the county. And old 


people talk to this day with a degree of pride of "those 
good old times " that existed at the Parliamentary elections 
previous to the passing of the Reform Bill of 1832. As 
fixr as Catnach was concerned, he merely went to help to pay 
off a deep debt of gratitude owing by him to the Smith 
family for many past favours to his own family when they 
were in dire distress in ai//d lang syne. Besides, Jemmy 
was now getting towards that state known as being " com- 
fortably well-to-do," and the trip was a change of air — a bit 
of a holiday and a visit to the town of his birth. And as 
he had buried his mother in London during the early part 
of the year, he took the opportunity to erect in the parish 
churchyard, that which at once stands as a cenotaph and a 
tombstone, bearing the following inscription : — 

John, Son of John Catnach, 

Printer, died August 27th, 

I 794, Aged 5 years and 7 months. 


London, 1813, Aged 44. 

Mary, his wife died Jany. 

24th, 1826, Aged 60 years, 

Also John, Margaret, and 

Jane Catnach, lie here.* 

Catnach's mother, we are upon good authority informed, 
laboured under melancholia, a disease which is characterised 
by dejection of spirits, fondness for solitude, timidity, fickle- 
ness of temper, and great watchfulness. The mind pursues 
''- one object or train of thought which in general bears a near 
relation to the patient, or to his or her affairs, which are 
viewed with great and unfounded apprehension. This 
painful state of mind is often attended by a strong pro- 
pensity to suicide. Mrs. Catnach became all but an imbecile. 

* The above copied verbatim by Mr. George Skelly, of Alnwick, 
November 14th, 1S76. 


and one night she fell in the fire and was so burnt that she 
died from the effects a few weeks afterwards. She was 
buried in the churchyard of St. Giles in the Fields. 

During Catnach's absence from London on the Alnwick 
election, his old rivals — the Pitts family — were, as usual, 
concocting false reports, and exhibiting lampoons, after the 
following manner : — 

Poor Jemmy with the son of Old Nick, 

Down to Northumberland he 's gone ; 
To take up his freedom at Alnwick, 

The why or the wherefore 's known to none. 

Before he went, he washed in soap and sud. 

The Alnwick folks they found the fiddle ; 
Then they dragged poor Jemmy through the mud, 

Two foot above his middle. 

The above wqs in allusion to the old ceremony of being 
dragged through the dirty pool to be made a Freeman of 
the town of Alnwick. But, as far as Catnach was concerned, 
there is no truth whatever in the matter, but was simply " a 
weak invention of the enemy." In the first place, owing to 
some doubt we entertained on the subject, through the 
somewhat contradictory statements given us, we made it our 
business to communicate with Mr. George Skelly, of Alnwick, 
to whom we must tender our grateful thanks for the kindness 
and promptness which have characterised his actions during 
the time we have been engaged on this work. He then, at 
our solicitation, searched the town records of the list of 
Freemen, and reported that the name of Janies Catnach 
does not occur. Then, again, it was in the latter part of 
June and the beginning of July in the same year that 
Catnach was at Alnwick, and the ceremony of making 
freemen always took place on St. Mark's Day, April 25th, 


or at least two months earlier. Thus the statement of the 

Pitts party was — 

" As false 
As air, as water, as wind, as sandy earth, 
As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf, 
Pard to the hind, or step-dame to her son." 

Catnach, as the high priest of the literature of the 
streets, surrounded by trade rivals, "stood like a man at 
a mark with a whole army shooting at him," but he was 
as firm as a rock and with the strength of a giant, and as 
Hyperion to a Satyr defied them all. 

"Admission to the freelege," writes Mr. Tate, in his 
" History of Alnwick," " was obtained by birthright or by 
apprenticeship to a freeman, or by election by the Four- 
and-Twenty {i.e., Town Councillors). All the legitimate 
sons of freemen are now entitled to be made free, where- 
soever born or whether before or after their fathers' 
admission to the freelege ; and this has been the usage 
during the last two centuries. Every freeman can take 
apprentice's to his o\\ti trade, who at the expiration of 
seven years' servitude, are entitled to become free. 

The form of the freeman's oath has varied ; in the 
earlier part of the seventeenth century, when the admissions 
were made at the Courts Leet, it appears to have included 
fealty to the lord of the manor ; but subsequently it was as 
follows : — 

You shall faith and true allegiance bear to our sovereign lord, 
the King, shall sweare that you shall maintaine from time to time, and 
att all times hereafter as needs shall require all the immunities, 
freedoms, rights, and privileges of this tovvne and burrough, and in all 
things shall behave yourself as a good and faithful freeman of this towne. 

But when articles were proposed to bring to an end the 
great lawsuit between the Earl of Northumberland and the 
Corporation, the Four-and-Twenty agreed, in 1759, "that 



for the future, fealty shall be added to and continued in the 
oath, if his lordship insists thereon," his lordship did insist, 
and this absurd and useless clause was added to the oath. 

The fees of admission were, from 1611 to 1677, 4d. and 
a pottle of burnt wine from the eldest son of a freeman, 
5s. and a pottle of burnt wine from younger sons and 
apprentices, in addition to the court fees; in 1677 the fee 
for the second son of a freeman was reduced to 2s. 6d., and 
in 1687 the pottle of wine was converted into a money pay- 
ment of 2s. 6d. In 1697 the fees were for the eldest son 
5s. to the town, and for the younger sons and apprentices 
7s. 6d. ; but in 1700, 9s. were added to all these fees, on 
account of the expense incurred by the Corporation in 
making and upholding some great dykes or fences across 
the moor ; and these amounts continue to be paid at the 
present time, out of which, however, is. is returned to each 
young freeman to drink the health of the Chamberlain. 
Notwithstanding the entire disconnection of the freelege 
from the effete court leet, an official from the Castle makes 
application for 8d. to the bailiff and 8d. to the sergeants for 
every admission. 

The ceremony of making freemen is described as follows, 
in Hone's "Every Day Book;" but we refer those of our 
readers who desire a more elaborate and exhaustive 
description, to Tate's " History of Alnwick," vol. ii., 
page 241 :— 

" When a person takes up his freedom he is led to a pond known by 
the name of the Frecmait's Well, through which it has been customary 
for the freemen to pass from time immemorial before they can obtain 
their freedom. This is considered so indispensable, that no exception 
is permitted, and without passing this ordeal the freedom would not be 
conferred. The pond is prepared by proper officers in such a manner 
as to give the greatest possible annoyance to the persons who are to pass 
through it. Great dykes, or mounds, are erected in difterent parts, so 
that the candidate for his freedom is at one moment seen at the top of 
one of them only up to his knees, and the next instant is precipitated 


into a gulf below, in which he frequently plunges completely over head. 
The water is purposely rendered so muddy that it is impossible to see 
where tliese dykes are situated, or l)y any precaution to avoid them. 
Those aspiring to the honour of the freedom of Alnwick are dressed in 
white stockings, white pantaloons, and white caps. After they have 
reached the point proposed, they are suffered to put on their usual 
clothes, and then obliged to join in a procession, and ride round the 
boundaries of the freeman's property — a measure which is not a mere 
formality for parade, but absolutely indispensable, since, if they omit 
visiting any part of their property it is claimed by his grace the Duke 
of Northumberland, whose stewards follow the procession to note if 
any such omission occurs. The origin of the practice of travelling 
through the pond is not known. A tradition is current that King John 
was once nearly drowned upon the spot where this pond is situated, and 
saved his life by clinging to a holly tree ; and that he determined, in 
consequence, thenceforth, that before any candidate could obtain the 
freedom of Alnwick, he should not only wade through this pond, but 
plant a holly tree at the door of his house on the same day ; and this 
custom is still scrupulously observed." 

Although Alnwick has undergone important changes 
since the close of the last century, yet they are trifling in 
comparison with \vhat the freemen have effected within a 
very short period, by converting into a productive tract of 
land, that which, but a few years ago, was a marshy barren 
waste, where, although furze flourished in the greatest 
luxuriance, the grass, even in the most favoured seasons, 
resembled in colour what is commonly called invisible green. 
Here some ragged looking quadrupeds, which the freemen 
dignified with the name of sheep, were left to eke out a 
miserable existence. These ravenous animals were widely 
known beyond their own territory, the highest fences being 
insufficient to restrain their predatory habits ; and therefore 
the cultivation of the moor has perhaps been a greater boon 
to the neighbouring proprietors than it may ultimately prove 
to the freemen themselves. 

From tiine immemorial the freemen of Alnwick appear 
to have regarded themselves as an oppressed and injured 
body. At one time we find them complaining of being 

M 2 


plundered by the lord of the manor, and at another of 
being grossly deceived by the Four-and-Twenty ; and, if we 
may trust to rumour, we learn that even amongst themselves 
the greatest harmony does not always prevail; for we are 
told tha.t at their meetings or guilds physical as well as 
moral force is not unfrequently resorted to in support of 
their arguments. 

The following document will furnish some idea of the 
state of feeling which at that period prevailed between 
themselves, the Four-and-Twenty, and the Lord of the 
Manor : — 

"Hexham, December ii, 1781. 
"71? the Petitioning Freemen of the Borough of Alnwick. 

"And it came to pass as I journeyed northwards, that behold I met 
with sages arrayed some in leather, some in woollen aprons, and some 
almost Adamites. 

"And I said unto them. Whither go ye ? 

"And they answered and said, We be select men of a confused 
number, immersed in our Pool of Bethesda, and we go to seek our 
patrimony, a large tract of country, of which we have been bereaved by 
unrighteous men, who have usui-ped an authority unknown to our 
forefathers, and we go in search of means to redeem our birthright. 

' ' And, lo ! to that end we have heretofore laid our grievances before 
the beautiful young man, the Chief of the Stewards of our Prince, at 
the Castle, who hath promised to do whatever seemeth meet unto us, 
and behold, we sojourn thither. 

"Then said I, Beware whom ye trust, and confide not in the 
promises of designing Princes, nor their fair promising agents. 

"Your inheritance is the gift of the good old King John, who, to 
preserve peace and to prevent the unruly rage of the multitude, hath 
wisely appointed pei-i:)etual Stewards to rule over you, which Stewards 
have been found faithful. 

"Attempt not therefore to alienate your property, but with all 
sobriety confonn to the mode prescribed by your bountiful donor, which 
hath preserved it inviolate to your ancestors and their posterity for so 
many generations ; cease, therefore, your lawless altercations. 

' ' At this, my friendly admonition, some cursed the day they listened 
to the advice of evil counsellors, and returned to their l\omes ; but 
others, having no reason of their own and being unable to withstand 
mine, murmured thereat, and went their ways, the Lord knows whit her. 


" Ilowbeit, after some days, behold I met these pretended sages near 
the great man's gates, having their faces covered with shame and 

"And I said unto them, Oh ! ye wicked and perverse individuals, 
how long will ye continue to distress your own families and disturb the 
peace of your benefactors ! Wot ye not that ye are all in the wrong ! 

"And they answered and said. We have laid our grievances before 
the great man, who hath spurned at our application and accosted us 
thus :— 

" Oh ! ye drunkenest of all drunken freemen, so audaciously to enter 
these gates with such wicked proposals ! Conscious I am that all my 
civilities have been treated with unparalleled ingratitude ; and, to ruin 
my reputation with my respectable neighbours, you now impudently 
solicit me to be a principal in an unlawful act against them, in direct 
violation of the terms prescribed by our royal donor. 

"Wot ye not that it is my duty to study the interests of my family, 
and to conciliate the friendship of my neighbours ; but not such 
vagabonds as you are. 

"Go your ways, then, and with dutiful submission implore the 
forgiveness of your lawful superiors, the Four-and-Twenty, whom ye 
have so wickedly bely'd. 

' ' And, till this my mandate you have obeyed, never shall your un- 
godly lust be gratified with a single horn of ale from my cellar. And 
go directly, lest a worse course should fall upon ye. 

' ' And they submissively answered and said, Lo ! we go and do as 
thou hast commanded." 

Alnwick does not appear to have ever achieved the dis- 
tinction of being a ParUamentary borough. It, ho\vever, 
claims the dignity, without sharing the advantages, of being 
the county town of Northumberland. It also boasts of 
having a Corporate existence, but is bereft of the chief 
functionary which confers dignity on a CoqDoration. That 
body, on all public questions, seems to exercise a sort of 
divided authority with the Board of Health, except with 
regard to railway communication, over which the latter 
appears to claim exclusive jurisdiction.* 

* " Alnwick, and the Changes it has undergone during the last 50 
years." A Lecture by J. A. Wilson, Esq. 

1 66 


The destruction of the Royal Brunswick Theatre, Well 
Street, Wellclose Square, East London, on the 29th of 
February, 1828, by the falling in of the walls, in consequence 
of too much weight being attached to the heavy cast-iron 
roof, made a rare nine days' wonder for the workers of 
street-papers. Fortunately the catastrophe happened in the 
day-time, during the rehearsal of " Guy Mannering," and 
only fifteen persons perished, viz :— 

Mr. D. S. Maurice, one of the Proprietors, 

Mr. J. Evans ... Bristol Observer, 
Miss Mary A. Feron ... Actress, 

Miss Freeman . 
Mr. E. Gilbert 
Mr. J. Blamire 
Mr. G. Penfold 
Miss Jane Wall 

Corps de ballet. 
Property Man, 
. . Doorkeeper, 
... A Visitor, 

Mr. J. Purely ... Blacksmith, 
Messrs. J. Miles, W. Leader, 
A. W. Davidson, M. Miles, 
and J. Abbott, ... Carpenters, 
J. Levy, A Clothesman (accident- 
ally passing). 

" Oh yes, sir ! I remember well the falling of the 
Brunswick Theatre, out Whitechapel way. It was a rare 
good thing for all the running and standing patterers in and 
about ten miles of London. Every day we all killed more 
and more people — in our "Latest Particulars." One day 
there was twenty persons killed, the next day thirty or forty, 
until it got at last to be worked up to about a hundred, and 
all killed. Then we killed all sorts of people, Duke of 
Wellington, and all the Dukes and Duchesses, Bishops, 
swell nobs and snobs we could think of at the moment." 

During the season 1828, Mr. Fawcett, stage manager of 
Covent Garden Theatre, imposed upon himself the Hercu- 
lean task of checking the immorality of the age, the first 
notice of which appeared in the " Globe " newspaper, and 
was to this efiect : — 

"We are glad to learn that Mr. Fawcett, the manager of Covent 
Garden Theatre, has appointed Mr. Thomas, the active constable, 
serving in his own right, to superintend some new arrangements which 
have been made to exclude from the theatre the profligate females 



of a ceitain class, whose conduct lias frequently been such as to create 
disgust among the respectable part of the audience. Mr. Thomas is 
also autiorised to remove from the house any female, however sui^erior 
in her gade to those against whom the new regulation is intended 
principal y to apply, if she is found offending by language, or gesture 
against tie rules or Propriety." 

The mtural consequence of such an injunction against the 
vested rights of those connected with the demi-monde was a 
torrent o' squibs, lampoons, and street ballads, and to use 
the word; of our informant, the Seven Dials' Press was 
" All aliv( oh ! " and every " flying stationer," of London, 

I1E Grand Blow 





A New Farce, 
By Stage-Manager Fawcett. 


'R. F. is it true, 

We 're indebted to you 
For new rules for preserving decorum ? 
One would think, to be sure, / 
Since you 're grown so demure, ' 
That you should be one of the Quorum!^ 

" Can't you manage the Stage 
Without letting your rage 

Extend to Saloons and the Lobbies ? ' 
You 've enough if you stop 
But behind your " new drop " '\ 

To do — and that 's one of your hobbi|s. 

" Behind curtain and scene, I 
And in the Room Green, i 

'Tis your place to keep actresses de(;tnt, 
They are surely worse there, 
When breeches they wear, ' 

And of late there 's a monstrous intfease in 't 

" In this novel /antique, \ 
Are you with them in leagu ? 
If you are, it is not acting properl'; 
For what right have they, / 
First their legs to display,/ 
And then to enjoy a monopoly ? 
*• # * # 1^ # 

** Say, who could advise / , 
Such a project so wise, 
Of morals he 'd surely a high shse ! 


Was it ' C — Im — n the Younger, 
Who younger no longer, 
Now checks by his license all license ? " 

To be followed every evening by 



Doctor Cantwell and Mawworm Mr. Morality Fawcett ! ! 

Old Lady Lambert Mr. C-lm-n the Younger! 

I^° No money returned after the rising of the curtain. 

Printed by J. Catnach, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials, where may 
be obtained all the old and new Songs of the day. Children's Books, &c. 

In Dyot Street, St. Giles's — now George Street, after 
George Prince of Wales — but called Dyot Street after 
Richard Dyot, Esq., a parishioner of St. Giles's in the 
Fields — lived that most notorious and world-renowned 
lodging-house keeper " Mother Cummins," so well known to 
all the Bucks about town, in their hot youth, when George 
the Third was King, 



Oh, she lives snug in the Holy Land, 
Right, tight, and merry in the Holy Land, 
Search the globe round, none can be found 
So accommodating ! as Old Mother Cummins 
Of the Holy Land. 

It is related that Major Hanger accompanied George IV. 
to a beggar's carnival in St. Giles's. He had not been there 
long when the Chairman, Sir Jeffery Dunston, addressing 
the company, and pointing to the then Prince of Wales, 
said " I call upon that 'ere gemman with a shirt for a song." 
The Prince, as well as he could, got excused upon his friend 
promising to sing for him, and he chanted in prime style 
a flash ballad full of " St. Giles's Greek," for which he received 
great applause. The Major's health having been drank with 
nine times nine, and responded to by him, wishing them" good 
luck till they were tired of it," he departed with the Prince 
to afford the company time to fix their different routes for 
the ensuing day's business. 


The Song of The Young Prig. 

MY mother she dwelt in Dyot's Isle, {a) 
One of the canting crew, (A) sirs ; 
And if you 'd know my father's style, 

He was the Lord Knon's-who, sirs ! 
I first held horses in the street, 

But being found defaulter, 
Turned rumbler's flunky (r) for my meat, 

So was brought up to the halter. 
Frisk the cly, {d) and fork the rag, {c) 

Draw the fogies plummy, (/) 
Speak to the tattler, {g) bag the swag, (//) 

And finely hunt the dummy. (/) 

My name they say is Young Birdlime, 

My fingers are fish-hooks, sirs ; 
And I my reading learnt betime, 

From studying pocket-books, (Ji) sirs. 
I have a sweet eye for a plant, (/) 

And graceful as I amble. 
Fine draw a coat-tail sure I can't. 

So kiddy is my famble. {m) 
Frisk the cly, &c. 

[a) Dyot's Isle, i.e., Dyot Street, which with the surrounding 
neighbourhood was afterwards desecrated to the purposes of twopenny 
to sixpenny lodging houses, and so well known collectively as St. Giles's 
Holy Land, or Rookery, but a very great portion of the district has 
lately been pulled down to make way for street and sanitary improve- 
ments in that quarter, (b) Beggars, (c) A cad, or footman, to hackney 
coaches, to water the horses, &c. (d) To pick a pocket, {e) Lay hold 
of the notes or money, (f) Draw out the handkerchiefs dexterously. 
(g) Steal a watch, {h) Pocket the chain and seals. (?) Adroitly search 
for a pocket-book, {k) Pocket-books are called "readers." (/) An 
intended robbery, (w) Having a practical and skilful hand. 


A night-bird, {a) oft I 'm in the cage, ( V) 

But my rum chants ne'er fail, sirs, 
The dubsman's {c) senses to engage, 

While I tip him leg-bail, {d) sirs. 
There 's not, for picking, to be had, 

A lad so light and larky, (^) 
The cleanest angler on the pad, (/) 

In daylight or the darkey, {g) 
Frisk the cly, &c. 

And though I don't work capital, iji) 

And do not weigh my weight, (/) sirs. 
Who knows but that in time I shall, 

For there 's no queering fate, sirs. 
If I 'm not lagged to Virgin-nee, {k) 

I may a Tyburn show be, (/ ) 
Perhaps a tip-top cracksman be, (w) 

Or go on the high toby. («) 
Frisk the cly, &c. 

Catnach, like many others connected with the getting up 
of news broadsides and fly-sheets, did not always keep 
clear of the law. The golden rule is a very fine one, but, 
unfortunately, it is not always read aright ; in some cases 
injured innocence flies at extremes. For years the press 
of this country has been a powerful agency, making its 

(rt) A disorderly vagabond, (i^) The round-house, (c) Gaoler. 
{d) Running away. (^) Frolicsome. (f) Expert street robber. 
(g) The night. {K) Commit any offence punishable with death. 
(?) The £^o payable on capital conviction. {k) Transported. 
{/) Hanged, (w) House-breaker. {«) Turn high^yayman. 


influence felt in every nook and corner in the land. As a 
counteract to this, the character of the subject is rigidly 
protected by statute laws. The nice points that are con- 
stantly arising in our law courts in regard to defamation of 
character, are numerous, and in many cases novel and 
entertaining. Catnach for a long time had been living 
upon unfriendly terms with a party connected with the 
management of one of Mother Cummins' lodging-house 
establishments in the immediate neighbourhood, so out of 
spite printed a pamphlet, purporting to be the " Life and 
Adventures of Old Mother Cummins." Here Catnach had 
reckoned without his host, by reason of his not taking into 
consideration the extensive aristocratic and legal connection 
Mother Cummins had for her friends and patrons. The 
moment she was made acquainted with the " dirty parjury " 
that Jemmy Catnach had printed and caused to be publicly 
circulated, she immediately gave instructions to //^/-Attorney- 
General to prosecute the varmint^, when a warrant was 
applied for and obtained to search the premises of the Seven 
Dials printer. But Catnach got the news of the intended 
visit of the Bow Street Runners, and naturally became 
alarmed from having a vivid recollection of the punishment 
and costs in the case of the Drury Lane sausage makers, 
so the forme containing the libellous matter was at once 
broken up — "pied," that is, the type was jumbled together 
and left to be properly distributed on a future occasion. 
What stock of the pamphlets remained were hastily packed 
up and carried off to the " other side of the water" by John 
Morgan, one of Catnach's poets ! Avhile another forme, 
consisting of a Christmas-sheet, entitled " The Sun of 
Righteousness," was hurriedly got to press, and all hands 
were working away ' full of assumed innocence when the 
officers from Bow Street arrived at Monmouth Court, when, 
after a diligent search, they had very reluctantly to come to 
the conclusion that they were " a day behind the fair," and 


that the printer had been a Httle too sharp for them this 

From " Bell's Life in London," for March 23, 1S28, we 
take the following article, headed in large italic capitals : — 


" The venerable landlady of the notorious lodging house in George 
Street, St. Giles's, Old Mother Cummins, departed this life in the 
beginning of last week, and was carried to the grave on Saturday, 
followed by an immense number of the inhabitants of the Holy Land. 
She had come over from Ireland, about fifty years ago, in the twenty- 
ninth year of her age. and having entered into matrimonial bonds with 
the gintleman who now survives her, she took a ' bit of a shed, ' in the 
most obscure part of the Irish regions, and by letting a few beds 
in shares, without any scrupulousness as to the difference of sex between 
those who occupied them, contrived to put together as much money as 
enabled her to speculate more extensively in the accommodation line. 
She, at last, was able to make up forty beds, and the moderate terms on 
which she allowed her customers to repose recommended half-pay 
officers and others of the needy class to her sheets very frequently. 
She always boasted of the security of property in her mansion, and she 
took the most effectual means of maintaining that character, by 
clapping a padlock upon the door of each room, as soon as she received 
her demand. Her rooms were let furnished at an expense of from six- 
pence to two shillings per night, so that a bricklayer's labourer and an 
Oxford student sometimes heard each other snore. Mr. Cummins used 
to assist in the management of the concern. He was a check upon her 
liberality, which was really great, to the poor half-starved wretches in 
the neighbourhood, but he never dared to interfere, in any serious 
degree, with her arrangements. Thirty years ago. Mother Cummins 
took a house in Pratt's Place, Camden Town, in which she resided, 
for the purpose of superintending the extensive washing of her establish- 
ment, and she regularly, every week, drove to town for the linen 
and woollen in which her customers were wont to repose. Her 
washerwomen were all decent Irishwomen, and upon the wash-days, 
she was the best customer of the Southampton Arms ; but she has gone 
for ever ! . She died a most excellent Catholic, never having, as she 
declared on her death bed, eaten a bit of m^at on a Friday, since she 
was born. After having been ' waked ' in the usual way, her remains 
were allowed tbe benefit of the air of Heaven, all \he windows in the 
house having been thrown up, and open they remained until the body 


was half way to its everlasting home. On the Saturday morning, the 
neighbourhood of Pratt's Place was in the greatest bustle. The 
solemnity which would have been observed in the case of another 
individual, was thrown aside for bustle and merriment, as if to hail the 
departure of a'gentle spirit for more pure and delightful regions. Even 
her widower, whose health seemed to flag a good deal, and who was 
carried to his carriage in his niglit-cap, as if he was on his journey to 
eternity through the hands of a certain important functionary of the 
law, appeared to partake of the general happiness. The procession 
moved .along until it reached St. Giles's Church, where all the rookeries 
behind Meux's brewhouse, seemed to have disgorged their contents. 
After the last duties were performed, several glasses of gin were handed 
into the mourning coaches, and towards the conclusion of the day, a 
general row took place, and many an eye was closed up, and nose 
distorted, before the police could interfere with effect." 

Immediately after Mother Cummins's death and funeral, 
the following announcement appeared : — 

riihlisJied this Day, Price Sixpence, embellished luith a 
humorous Coloured Plate, 



The celebrated Lady Abbess of St. Giles's ; with a curious 
Description, Regulations, &c., of her singular Establishment, 
An account of her Funeral, &:c. Interspersed with nume- 
rous Anecdotes of Living Characters, Visitors of Mother 
Cummins's Nunnery, — Capt. Shiels and the Forty-four Nuns 
— Poll Hankey and Sir Charles Stanton, — Jane Sealey and 
an Illustrious Person, &c. — With an Account of some of 
the principal Nuns of the Establishment ; particularly 
Mrs. Throgmorton and Lord Al...n..y — Bell Chambers 
and the D... of Y..., — Miss Wilkinson and Captain 
Featherstone — Marianne Hempstead, the Scotch Beauty — 
Miss Weltern Davis and the Rev. Mr. H...l..y 
— Mary Thomas, the Female Chimney-Sweep, and Captain 
T...t...s, &c. 



Poet's Corner. 

"There is a pleasure in poetic pains, 
Which only Poets know." 

"Yonder, sir, is Mr. Goosequill, a 'Seven Dials Bard,' 
who came to town with half-a-crown in his pocket, and his 
traged3% called the ' Mines of Peru,' by which he of course 
expected to make his fortune. For five years he danced 
attendance on the manager, in order to hear tidings of its 
being ' cast,' and four more in trying to get it back again. 
During the process he was groaned, laughed, whistled, and 
nearly kicked out of the secretary's room, who swore (which 
he well might do, considering the exhausted treasury of the 
concern) that he knew nothing about, nor ever heard of, 
the ' Mines of Peru.' At last Mr. Goosequill, being shown 
into the manager's kitchen, to wait till he was at leisure, 
had the singular pleasure of seeing two acts of the ' Mines 
of Peru' daintily fastened round a savoury capon on the 
spit, to preserve it from the scorching influence of the fire. 

" ' This was foul treatment,' I observed, and I ventured 
to ask how he had subsisted in the meanwhile ? ' Why, he 
first made an agreement with a printer of ballads in 
Seven Dials, who, finding his inclinations led to poetry, 


expressed his satisfaction, telling him that one of his poets 
had lost his senses, and was confined in Bedlam, and 
another was dazed with drinking drams. An agreement 
was made, and he earned five-pence-three-farthings per week 
as his share of this speculation with the muses. But his 
l)rofits were not always certain. He had often the pleasure 
of supping with Duke Humphrey, and for this reason he 
turned his thoughts to prose ; and in this walk he was 
eminently successful, for during a week of gloomy weather 
he published an apparition, on the substance of which he 
subsisted very comfortably for a month. He often makes a 
good meal upon a monster. A rape has frequently afforded 
him great satisfaction, but a murder — an out-and-out murder 
— if well timed, is board, lodging, and washing, with a feast 
of nectared sweets for many a day.' "* 

Jack Randall, the Nonpareil of the ring, died at his 
house, the Hole-in-the-Wall, Chancery Lane, on Wednesday, 
March 12th, 1828, aged 34. Jack was an Anglo-Irishman, 
and first drew his breath in the Hibernian colony of St. 
Giles. He was the hero of sixteen prize battles, and left 
the ring undefeated. At this period it was considered he 
had received not less than ^1,200 by his good fortune, but 
"easy got, easy gone" — as fast as it was received it was 
spent, until prudence suggested the expediency of laying 
the foundation of something substantial for his family, and 
he accordingly closed his bargain for the Hole-in-the-Wall, 
under the patronage of General Barton, his friends giving 
him a pipe of wine, instead of a piece of plate, to com- 
mence operations. From henceforth he pursued the 
business of a publican, and was highly respected by all ranks 
of the Fancy. Tom Moore, the Irish poet, was a frequenter 

* " Real Life in London; or, The Rambles and Adventures of Bob 
Tallyo, Esq., and his Cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall." See ]iagc 112. 



of his house, and it was there that he picked up most of his 
material for his " Tom Cribb's Memorial to Congress," &c. 
The liberality of his friends, however, added to his own 
predilection for daffey, gradually paved the way to the 
" break up " of his constitution, and for the last few months 
of his life he was but the shadow of his former self. 

From a ballad of the period entitled, "A Fancy Elegy 
on the death of Jack Randall," we selected as follows : — 

" A LAS ! poor Jack lies on his back, 
Jl\. As flat as any flounder : 
Although he died of a bad inside, 
No heart was ever sounder. 

" The Hole-in-the- Wall was once his stall, 
His a-ib the Fancy name it : 
A hole in the ground he now has found, 
And no one else will claim it. 

" But too much lush man's strength will crush, 
And so found poor Jack Randall : 
His fame once bright as morning light, 
Now's out, YikQ farthing candle. 



Ciood bye, brave Jack !— if each thy track 
Would follow — barring drinking — 

What a noble race would our country grace, 
Finn, loyal, and i/iisliriiiki/ii:;.''' 

Four years after the Thurtell and Weare affair, namely, 
in the month of April, 1828, another "sensational " murder 
was discovered — that of Maria Marten, by William Corder, 
in the Red Barn, at Polstead, in the county of Suffolk. 
The circumstances that led to the discovery of this most 
atrocious murder were of an extraordinary and romantic 
nature, and manifest an almost special interposition of 
Providence in marking out the offender. As the mother of 
the girl had on three several nights dreamt that her daughter 
was murdered and buried in Corder's Red Barn, and as this 
proved to be the case, an additional " charm " was given to 
the circumstance. And the " Catnach Press " was again 
set working both day and night to meet the great demand 
for the " Full Particulars." The first broad-sheet worked 
off on the subject was as follows : — • 

N 2 









A murder, rivalling in cold-blooded atrocity that of 
Weare, has been brought to light within a few days, at 
Polstead, in the county of Suffolk.* The circumstances 
which have reached us are as follows:— 

Maria Marten, a fine young woman, aged twenty-five, the 
daughter of a mole catcher in the above village, formed an 
imprudent connexion, two or three years ago, with a young 
man, named William Corder, the son of an opulent farmer 
in the neighbourhood, by whom she had a child. He 
appeared much attached to her, and was a frequent visitor 
at her father's. On the 19th of May last she left her 
father's house, stating, in answer to some queries, that 
she was going to the Red Barn to meet William Corder, 
who was to be waiting there with a chaise to convey her 
to Ipswich, where they were to be married. In order to 


deceive observers — Corder's relations being hostile to the 
connection — she was to dress in man's attire, which she was 
to exchange in the barn for her bridal garments. She did 
not return at the time expected, but being in the habit of 
leaving home for many days together, no great alarm was 
expressed by her parents. When, however, several weeks 
had elapsed, and no intelligence was received of their 
daughter, although William Corder was still at home, the 
parents became anxious in their inquiries. Corder named 
a place at a distance where he said she was, but that he 
could not bring her home for fear of displeasing his friends. 
Her sister, he said, might wear her clothes, as she would not 
want them. Soon after this, Corder's health being impaired, 
he, in real or pretended accordance with some advice he 
had received, resolved on going abroad. Accordingly, he 
left home in September last, expressing a great anxiety 
before he left to have the barn well filled. He took with 
him about ;^4oo. Several letters have been received by 
his mother (a widow) and sister, as well as by the Martens, 
in which he stated that he was living with Maria in the Isle 
of Wight. These, however, bear the London post-mark. 
He regularly desired that all his letters should be burnt, 
which request was not complied with. Strange surmises 
lately gained circulation throughout the neighbourhood, and 
one person stated, as a singular circumstance, that on the 
evening when Maria Marten disappeared, he had seen 
Corder enter the Red Barn with a pick-axe. The parents 
became more and more disturbed and dissatisfied, and 
these fears were still more strongly agitated by the mother 
dreaming, on three successive nights last week, that her 
daughter had been murdered, and buried in the Red Barn. 
She insisted that the floor of the barn should be ujiturned. 
On Saturday, Marten, the father, with his mole-spade and a 
neighbour with a rake, went to examine the barn, and soon, 
near the spot where the woman dreamt her daughter lay 


buried, and only about a foot and a half under ground, the 
father turned up a piece of a shawl which he knew to have 
belonged to his daughter, and his assistant with his rake 
pulled out part of a human body. Horror struck, the 
unhappy father and his neighbour staggered from the spot. 
The remains were afterwards disinterred, the body being in 
a state of decomposition. The pelisse, shawl, Leghorn 
bonnet, and shoes, were, however, distinctly identified as 
those once belonging to Maria Marten, The body has been 
closely inspected, but owing to its decayed state, no marks 
of violence have, we understand, been discovered, except 
some perforations in the bones of the face, which appear as 
if made by small shot. There can be but little doubt left 
but that this unfortunate young woman fell a victim to her 
unhallowed passion, and was inhumanly butchered by the 
monster upon whom she relied for future protection as a 
husband. The barn is well situated for such a deed of 
horror, being a full quarter of a mile from any human 
habitation. An inquest was held before W. Weyman, Esq., 
Coroner for the Liberty, on Sunday last, and adjourned till 
Friday, in the hope that some intelligence may be gained of 
Corder to lead to his apprehension. The murdered remains 
were buried on Sunday night, at Polstead, in the presence 
of an immense concourse of spectators. 

Printed by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 

Immediately following the above, another broad-sheet 
was printed and published with the gratifying announcement 
of the apprehension of the murderer ! And the sale con- 
tinued unabatingly for both town and country, every paper- 
worker making great profits by the sale ; and " The Catnach 
Press " still working with all their strength. Subjoined we 
give a verbatim copy of the second broad-sheet that was 
issued : — 







Likeness of William Corder. 

On Tuesday "William Corder was brought before Matthew 
Wyatt, Esq., at Lambeth Street Police Office, in custody of 
Lea, the officer, charged with the perjictration of as dark 
and foul a murder as perhaps ever stained the annals of 


crime. Its accomi^lishment took place nearly a twelvemonth 
since ; and on the morning of yesterday, far from the scene 
of his diabolical offence, while sitting in imaginary security, 
the culprit was taken into custody. 

His unfortunate victim was an inhabitant of Polstead, in 
Suffolk, — her name was Maria Marten ; and the prisoner 
appears to have been impelled to the frightful act by fear of 
the discovery of some former offence. He was brought up 
for a short examination prior to his transmission to Suffolk. 
His age he stated to be twenty-four. His dress was 
fashionable, and when taken into custody he, in conjunction 
with his wife, kept a boarding school for ladies at the Grove 
House, Ealing Lane, Middlesex. Many rumours are afloat 
relative to his crime, but the real particulars, as far as they 
have as yet transpired, are as follows : — 

For some years past the prisoner, who is a person of 
some property, and at the time of the committal of the 
offence with which he is charged was resident at Polstead, 
kept company with the unfortunate deceased, the daughter 
of a small farmer living in the vicinity of that village. An 
illicit intercourse was the consequence of their acquaintance, 
and a child the fruit of their connexion. This, it is 
rumoured, was murdered by the prisoner, and the mother 
being aware of the revolting event, made use of it by a 
threat of discovery to extort from her paramour a promise 
of marriage. On the 19th of May last, he called at her 
father's house and then expressed his willingness to have 
the ceremony performed, but in order that it mighty be 
private, and as much concealed as possible, he said his wish 
was to have it celebrated by license, and not by banns. 

From that period up to Saturday week the parents heard 
no more of their daughter. Some weeks since the mother 
had several dreams, which very much agitated her mind. 
On three several nights she dreamt that her daughter 
was murdered and buried on the right hand bay, as she 

JAMES CA 1 \'ACIl. 1.S5 

calls it, of the further side of Corder's Red Barn. This 
was found to be the case. 

On the discovery of the body, which has thrown the 
village of Polstead into the greatest excitement, W. 
Weyman, Esq., the coroner at Bury St. Edmunds, at once 
instituted an inquiry, and from the circumstances that 
came out of it, he was induced to despatch Ayres, a 
constable, in pursuit of the prisoner. He arrived in town 
on Monday, and having applied at Lambeth Street Office 
for assistance, the business was placed in the hands of 
Lea, who certainly has discharged his office with intelligence, 
activity, and industry. With a loose clue afforded him by 
the county constable, he traced the prisoner first to Gray's 
Inn Terrace, and from there through a number of inter- 
mediate places to his residence in Ealing Lane, near 
Brentford, where he apprehended him. A degree of 
stratagem was necessary to obtain an entrance, and he 
procured it by representing that he had a daughter whom 
he was anxious to place under the care of his wife. On 
going in, he found him in the parlour with four ladies, at 
breakfast. He was in his dressing gown, and had a watch 
before him, by which he was minuting the boiling of some 
. eggs. , Lea called him on one side, and told him that he 
was a London police officer, and come to apprehend him 
upon a most serious charge. 

Printed by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 

The trial of Corder took place at the Shire Hall, Bury 
St. Edmunds, on the 7th of August, before the Lord Chief 
Baron (x\lexander). The prisoner pleaded '■'■Not Guilty" 
and the trial i)roceeded. On being called on for his defence, 
Corder read a manuscript paper. He declared that he 
deeply deplored the death of the unfortunate deceased, and 
he urged the jury to dismiss from their minds all that pre- 

1 86 


judice which must necessarily have been excited against 
him by the foul imputations which had been cast upon him 
by the public press, &c. Having concluded his address, 
the Lord Chief Baron summed up, and a verdict of "Guilty''^ 
was returned, and he was executed outside Bury gaol on 
Monday, August loth, 1828. The Last Dying Speech and 
Confession had an enormous sale — estimated at 1,166,000 
— ■xfac simile copy of which, with the " Lamentable Verses," 
said to have been written by Old Jemmy Catnach, will be 
found on the opposite page, reproduced on a smaller scale 
from the original, by the Litho-Zincographic Process, of 
which we have given examples. Others will follow. 




Since tho tr&jpoal afioir beCiveen Thurtell aad Weare, 
ao event has ocourrcd connected with the criminal 
aoii&la of oar country which h(u excited bo much 
interest aa the trial of Corder. whc wuu justly conricted 
of the murder of MArift Marten 00 Friday last. 

"Bury Gaol. August 10th, 1828.— CondeiTiDed cell, 
" Sunday evening, half- post Eleven. 
" I acknowledge being guilty of tho death of poor 
Maria Marten, by shooting her with a pistol. The 
partioolan are as follows : — When we left her father's 
houae, we began quarrelling about the burial of tho 
child: she apprehended the place wherein it was 
depoaited would be found out The quarrel continued 
about three quartern of an hour upon this sad and 
about other ouDJecta. A scuffle cnsaedr ^'^^ during tho 
Kuffle, and at the time I think that she had hold of me, 
I took tho pifiFol from tho side pocket of my velveteen 
jacket aud firod. She fell, and died in ao instant I 
never saw her even struggle. I was overwhelmed with 
agitation and diamay : — the body fell near the front 
doors on the floor of the bam. A vast quantity of 
blood issued firom the wound, and ran on txi the floor 
and through the cxevicea. Having determined to bury 
the body in the bam (about two hourv after she was 
doad. I went and borrowed a spade of Mrs Stow, bat 
before I went there I drugged the body &om the b&m 
into tliu chaff-house, and looked the bam. I returned 
again to the bam, and began to dig e hole, bat the 
•pode being a bad one, and the earth firm and hard, I 
was obliged to go home for a pickaze and a better 
epade, with which I dug the hole, and then buried the 
body. I think I dragged the body by the handkerchief 
thAt was tied round her neck. It waa dark when I 
finished oovcring up the body. I went the next day, 
and washed the blood fVom off the barn-floor. I declare 
to Almighty Qod I bad no sh^rp inatrament about me, 
and no other wound but the one made by the pii(tol waa 
^nfl^icted by me. I have been guilty of great idleneea, 
and aX. timea led u diasolute life, but I hope through the 
mercy of Ood to be forgiven. Williui Cobdbs." 
Witneaa to the aifirniug by the said William Corder, 
JoHK Oaauwa. 
Condemned oiell. Eleven o'clock, Monday morning, 
AoguBt lUh, 1828. 
The above oonfcaaion waa read over carefully to the 
' in our presence, who stated most Bolemuly it 
t true, and that he had nothing to add to or rotnict 
ftt)m it — W. Stockivq, ohaplain : TmoTor R. HoLMEa, 

At ten minutee before twelve o'clock the priaoner waa 
brought from his cell and pinioned by the hangman, 
who waa brought from London for the purpose. He 
appeared resigned, but waa so weak aa to be unable to 
stand without support ; when hia cravat waa reoioved 
he groaned heavily, and appeared to bo labouring under 
great mental agooy. When his wriats and arms were 
mede fast, he was led round twarda the aoaffold, and 

as he piusied the different yorda in which the priaonera 
were confined, he shook haoda with them, and speaking 
to two of them by name, he said, " Qood bye, Ood 
bless yon." They appeored considerably affected by 
the wretched appearance which he made, and " Ood 
blcea yon !" " May God receive your soul P* were 
frequently uttered a^ he passed along. The chaplain 
walked before tho prisoner, reailing the uimal Burial 
Service, and the Gevemor aud Officers walking imme- 
diately aft^-T him. The prisoner was supported to thft 
steps which led to the scaffold ; he looked somewhat 
wildly around, and a constable wcs obliged to support 
him while the hangman was adjuBtiog the fatal conj. 
There was a barrier to keep off the crowd, amounting 
to upwnrds of 7,000 pcnK>ns, who at this time had 
stationed themnelvea in (he adjoining 6eld«, ou the 
bodges, the tops of houses, and at every point from 
which n view of the execution could be best obtained. 
The prisoner, a few moments before the drop fell, 
groaned heavily, aad would have fallen, bad not a 
secoud constable caught hold of him. Everything 
having been made ready, the aigual was given, the 
fatal drop fell, and the unfortunate man was launched 
into eternity. Just before he was turned off, be ruiid in 
a feeble tnnc. "I am justly senteoced, and may God 
forgive me " 

The Murder of Maria Marten. 


COBCE all ton thougtitlcH yoong atea, a nniing taiie by 
And thiak upou a^ anQAnp; fote to bo bulged upos • tree; 
My name is W iUiam CWer, to you 1 do decUra, 
I oourtod Maria Ucrieu, most beaatifQl aad fair. 

If fcQ inll m&et me at the Bed-bam, ai sure u I bare li 
I wQl t&ke you to Ipsiricli town, sdU there make yoa my 
I then went home and fetched my gtui, my plrkai.c and 
I wot into the Eed-bara, end there I <hi^ ber ^nre- 
With heart BO light, the thoo^htno Harm, to meet hira 
Be mcrdered her all io the barn, 
AAer the horrible deed 

r body low : 
done, she lay treltering ia h«r gore, 
3 ooay he baried beneath the Ked-bAro floo*. 
siloDt, her niint ooold not r«it, 
T mother, woo sncklnd her at htir hraobt , 

r mind being eora oppreM'd». 
« any rwt. 

Kow oU thingB 

She appeared a 

For lot-jiy a loog month 

Neither uigfat or day ahe 

Her daaghter ahe I 
Aad there he found hia daughter uiu){Uog with \ 
Mr tnjU u> hjtni, \ eoold not ataod, moat veafol 
Wlieo her iav-boce waa broofht to proTt, « 

On Monday next * 

80 you, yoan|[ mer, rto do paae by. with pity took on om, 

Por morderiog Mana Morten, I vag Uai^rtl opoa Utc tna. 

Ptioicd by i. 

I 9, MgooKruth Covt.-CaM«., tx , Printed Ck««^ 


Mr. James Grant, in the second series of his popular 
work, the " Great MetropoUs," has a sketch of one Mr. 
Curtis, an eccentric person, whose taste for witnessing exe- 
cutions, and for the society of persons sentenced to death, 
was remarkable. He had been present at every execution 
in the metropolis and its neighbourhood for the last quarter 
of a century. He actually walked before breakfast to 
Chelmsford, which is twenty-nine miles from London, to be 
present at the execution of Cajjtain Moir. For many years 
he had not only heard the condemned sermons preached in 
Newgate, but spent many hours in the gloomy cells with the 
persons who had been executed in London during that 
period. He passed much time with Fauntleroy, and was 
with him a considerable part of the day previous to his 
execution. With Corder, too, of Red Barn notoriety, he 
contracted a friendship : immediately on the discovery of 
the murder of Maria Marten, he hastened to the scene, 
and remained there till Corder's execution. He afterwards 
wrote the " Memoirs of Corder," which were published .by 
Alderman Kelly, Lord Mayor in 1837 — 8. The work had 
portraits of Corder and Maria Marten, and of Curtis, and 
nothing pleased him better than to be called the biographer 
of Corder. 

By some unaccountable fatality, Curtis, where he was 
unknown, often -had the mortification of being mistaken 
under very awkward circumstances for other persons. At 
Dover he was once locked up all night on suspicion of being 
a spy. When he went to Chelmsford to be present at 
Captain Moir's execution, he engaged a bed at the Three 
Cups inn ; on returning thither in the evening the servants 
rushed out of his sight, or stared suspiciously at him, he 
knew not why, till at length the landlady, keeping some 
yards distant from him, said, in tremulous accents, "We 
cannot give you a bed here ; when I promised you one, I 
did not know the house was full." " Ma'am," rei^lied Curtis, 

/.•/ ^rf:s c.i r.v.i en. 1 89 

indignantly, " I have taken my bed, and I insist on having 
it." " I am very sorry for it, but you cannot sleep here to- 
night," was the reply. " I will sleep here to-night ; I 've 
engaged my bed, and refuse me at your peril," reiterated 
Curtis. The landlady then offered him the price of a bed 
in another place, to which Curtis replied, resenting the 
affront, " No, ma'am ; I insist upon my rights as a public 
man ; I have a duty to perform to-morrow." " It 's all true. 
He says he's a public man, and that he has a duty to 
perform," were words which every person in the room 
exchanged in suppressed whispers with each other. The 
waiter now stepped up to Mr. Curtis, and taking him aside, 
said, " The reason why mistress will not give you a bed is 
because you're the executioner." Curtis was astounded, 
but in a few minutes laughed heartily at the mistake. " I '11 
soon convince you of your error, ma'am," said Curtis, 
walking out of the house. He returned in a few minutes 
with a gentleman of the place, who having testified to his 
identity being different from that supposed, the landlady 
apologized for the mistake, and, as some reparation, gav6 
him the best bed in the inn. 

However, a still more awkward mistake occurred. After 
passing night after night with Corder in prison, Curtis 
accompanied him to his trial, and stood up close behind 
him at the bar. An artist had been sent from Ipswich to 
sketch a portrait of Corder for one of the newspapers of 
that town ; but the sketcher mistook Curtis for Corder, and 
in the next number of the journal Mr. Curtis figured in full 
length as the murderer of Maria Marten ! He bore the 
mistake with good humour, and regarded this as one of the 
most amusing incidents of his life. 

It is not generally known that Dr. Maginn wrote for 
Knight and Lacey, the' publishers in Paternoster Row, a 
novel embodying the strange story of the Polstead murder, in 
1828, under the title of the "Red Barn." The work was 


published anonymously, in numbers, and by its sale the 
publishers cleared many hundreds of pounds.* 

The case of Joseph Hunton, executed for forgery, excited 
considerable attention from the circumstance of his having 
been long known in the City of London as a person of good 
repute, and also from the fact of his being a Quaker. 

At the Old Bailey sessions, on the 28th of October, 1828, 
he was put upon his trial, and found Guilty upon a charge 
of forging— amongst many others— a bill {ox £i.(,2 9s., with 
mtent to defraud Sir William Curtis and Co., and notwith- 
standmg the recommendation of the jury to mercy, he 
received sentence of death. 

The execution of a man who moved in so respectable a 
sphere of life failed not to attract an immense crowd. He 
was, on Sunday, visited by several of the Society of Friends, 
who were accommodated with an apartment, in which they 
remained in their peculiar devotions for several hours. 
Afterwards he was attended by two gentlemen, Elders of the 
Congregation, who sat up with him in the press-room all 
night, and on the morning of the 8th of December, 1828, 
he, with three others, viz., James Abbott, aged 28, who 
resided in Fetter Lane, convicted of cutting his wife's 
throat, with intent to, kill and murder her. John James, 19, 
for burglary in the house of Mr. Witham, solicitor, Boswell 
Court. Joseph Mahoney, 26, for burglary in the house of 
Mr. Barton, in the parish of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, 
suffered the extreme penalty of the law. 

CoRDER s Skeleton. -The bones of Corder having been cleared 
of the flesh, have been re-united by Mr. S. Dalton, and the skeleton is 
now placed in the Suflfolk General Hospital. A great portion of the 
skm has been tanned, and a gentleman connected with the hospital 
intends to have the Trial and Memoirs of Corder bound in it. The 
heart has been preserved in spirits. -^.•//'^ Life in London, 24th May 
1829. ■' 


Hunton commenced business at Yarmouth* as a slop- 
seller ; he opened a concern of some magnitude at Bury 
St. Edmunds, and was also engaged in business as a sugar 
baker in the metropolis. He had previously married a lady, 
a member of the Society of Friends, possessed of property 
to the amount of ;j^3o,ooo. Relinquishing these concerns, 
he entered into partnership with Messrs. Dickson and Co., 
of Ironmonger Lane, who soon discovered that he was 
engaged in speculations on the Stock Exchange, in which, 
as it turned out, he was particularly unsuccessful. A dis- 
solution of partnership was the consequence, and then the 
unhappy man, driven to want and despair, committed those 
frauds which cost him his life.f 

On Wednesday evening, January 14th, 1829, an inquiry 
of a singular and mysterious nature took place at St. 
Thomas's Hospital, before Thomas Shelton, Esq., Coroner, 
relating to the death of an individual styled James Allen, 
aged 42. The unfortunate deceased, who passed, for, and 
assumed the dress of a man, was killed by a large piece of 
timber falling on the head while working at the bottom of a 
pit, as a saA\7er, at the yard of Mr. Crisp, shipwright and 
builder, Mill Street, Dockhead. Death occurred on the 
way to the hospital. An examination of the body took 
place, when it was found to be of the female sex. It was 

* It is somewhat singular and worth recording that at the time 
Ilunton resided at Yarmouth, John Tawell, the Quaker, who was 
executed at Aylesbury, 28th March, 1845, for poisoning Sarah Hart, 
his concubine, and he, attended worship in the Friends' Meeting-house 
in that towTi. Here the young men frequently met, and thus an 
intimacy sprang up between two persons whose subsequent career in 
vice ultimately procured for both an undesirable notoriety, and an 
ignominious death on the scaffold. 

t Thomas Maynard was the last person executed for forger}', 31st 
December, 1829. 



proved before the Coroner that the deceased, who ahvays 
lived, worked, and dressed as a man, had been married for 
upwards of twenty-one years, and that the wife. — an honest 
and industrious woman — was still living, and that the 
deceased had left the wife several times on account of 
jealousy. Both the coroner and the jury expressed their 
astonishment at so extraordinary a circumstance as two 
females living together as man and wife for so long a period. 
It certainly was both unprecedented and mysterious. 

The jury expressed a wish to have the female who lived 
with the deceased before them, but the coroner said that it 
was unnecessary, they had only to inquire how deceased — 
immaterial, male or female — came to her death. A verdict 
of " Accidental Death " was returned. 

The Female Husband ! 

This case of "The Female Husband" took the whole 
town by storm, and the writers and the " Seven Dials Press" 
were busy on the subject with "The True Particulars," 
"Extraordinary Adventures," '" Life and Confession of the 


Virgin Wife," &c., &c., together with ballads out of number, 
one from the press of T. Birt, No. 10, Great St. Andrew 
Street, Seven Dials, is entitled " The Female Husband, who 
had been married to another Female for Twenty-one Years." 
It is in form known as a "dialogue song." But from its 
suggestive character, with mots d, double entente^ we can only 
venture to quote one verse, while the dialogue between three 
old married women must be passed by sub silentio. 

'• What wonders now have I to pen, sir. 
Women turning into men, sir. 
For twenty-one long years, or more, sir. 
She wore the breeches, we are told, sir, 
A smart and active handsome groom, sir, 
She then got married very soon, sir, 
A shipwright's trade she after took, sir. 
And of this wife, she made a fool, sir." 

Soho Bazaar, the first of its kind in England, was esta- 
blished by John Trotter, Esq., to whose family it still belongs. 
The building covers a space of 300 feet by 150, and extends 
from the Square to Dean Street on the one hand, and to 
Oxford Street on the other. The bazaar occupies two floors, 
and has counter accommodation for upwards of 160 tenants. 
The two principal rooms in the building are about ninety 
feet long, and in them the visitor may find almost every 
trade represented. One large room is set apart for the sale 
of books, another for furniture, and another for birds, cages, 
&c. ; and at one end of the latter room is a large recess, 
occupied with a rustic aviary, through which runs a stream 
of water. Connected with the bazaar are offices for the 
registration of governesses and the hire of servants, &c. ; 
and the scene that here presents itself during business hours 
is one well worthy of a visit. The bazaar has been fre- 
quently patronised by royalty. 



The Soho Bazaar. 

LADIES in furs, and gemmen in spurs, 
Who lollop and lounge about all day : 
The Bazaar in Soho is completely the go — 
Walk into the shop of Grimaldi ! 

Come from afar, here 's the Bazaar ! — 
But if you won't deal with us, stay where you are. 
Here 's rouge to give grace to an old woman's face, 

Trowsers of check for a sailor ; 
Here 's a cold ice, if you pay for it twice, 
And here 's a hot goose for a tailor. 
Soho Bazaar, come from afar : 
Sing ri fal de riddle, and tal de ral la. 
Here 's a cock'd hat, for an opera flat — 

Here 's a broad brim for a Quaker ; 
Here 's a white wig for a Chancery prig, 
And here 's a light weight for a baker. 
Soho Bazaar, &c. 
A fringed parasol, or a toad-in-the-hole, 

A box of japan to hold backy ; 
Here 's a relief for a widow in grief — 
A quartern of Hodges's jacky. 

Soho Bazaar, &c. 
Here, long enough, is a lottery puff 

(I was half-drunk when it caught me) ; 
It promised, my eyes ! what a capital prize : 
And here 's all the rhino it brought me. 
Soho Bazaar, &c. 
" Put it down to the bill," is the fountain of ill ; i 

This has the shopkeepers undone ; 
Bazaars never trust — so down with your dust. 
And help us to diddle all London. 
Soho Bazaar, &c. 
Printed by J. Catnach, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 


The first pair of London omnibuses started from the 
Yorkshire Stingo, public-house, in the New Road, to the 
Bank of England and back, on Saturday, July 4th, 1829. 
They were constructed to carry twenty-two passengers, all 
inside, and were drawn by three horses abreast. The fare 
was one shilling, or sixpence for half the distance, together 
with the ' luxury of a newspaper. A Mr. J. Shillibeer was 
the owner of these carriages, and in order that the intro- 
duction might have every chance of success and the full 
prestige of respectability, he brought over with him from 
Paris two youths, both the sons of British naval officers, 
and these young gentlemen were his " conductors." They 
were smartly dressed in blue cloth, after the Parisian fashion. 
Their addressing any foreign passenger in French, and the 
French style of the affair, gave rise to an opinion that A'Jj. 
Shillibeer was a Frenchman, and that the English were 
indebted to a foreigner for the improvement of their 
vehicular transit, whereas Mr. Shillibeer had served in the 
British navy, and was born in Tottenham Court Road ; yet 
he had afterwards carried on the business of a coach builder 
both in London and Paris. His speculation was particularly 
and at once successful, for he insured punctuality and 
civility ; and the cheapness, cleanliness, and smartness of 
his omnibuses were in most advantageous contrast with the 
high charges, dirt, dinginess, and rudeness of the drivers of 
many of the " short stages " and Hackney coaches, who 
were loud in their railings against what they were pleased to 
describe as a French innovation, and many were the street- 
papers and ballads issued on the subject both for and 
against the " Shillibeer's " and "French Hearses." 


THE 'Buss, the 'Buss, the Omnibus ! 
That welcomes all without a fuss ; 
And wafts us on, with joyous sound, 
Through crowded streets on our busy round. 
Reckless of cold and gloomy skies, 
Or the driving storm as it downward hies : 
Stow'd snug in thee ! stow'd snug in thee ! 
I am where I would wish to be. 
While the rain above and the mud below 

Affect me not where'er I go 

Though the sleet and the slush be ankle deep, 
What matters ? while I can ride so cheap ! 
What matters ? &c. 

I love, oh how I love to ride 
In cozy converse, side by side, 
With some sweet sly enchanting one, 
Who lets her little 'larum run 
Till scarcely can the listener know 
If that or Time more swiftly go ! 
Henceforth I '11 know the terrible bore 
Of " padding the hoof " no more, no more ; 
But back to the seat I so oft have press'd 
I '11 spring, to be wafted the while I rest : 
For thou, dear 'Buss ! art a home to me. 
While I am snugly seated in thee. 
While I am, &c. 



Jan'ey ! Here am I, ye'r honour. 
March of the Times. 

New Omnibuses now are beating coaches out of time, sir, 
But 'tis a word to which I can't contrive to make a rhyme, sir ; 
The sight to me is something new, and something rather droll, sir, 
Of twenty spooneys bolt upright, all sitting cheek by jowl, sir. 

The Hackney Coachman. 

MY name 's honest Jarvey, I come unto you 
To tell all my woes, for I 've nothing to do, 
The cab chaps all calls me a crusty old file, 
Because I von't take folks at eight-pence a mile. 
Them omnibus fellers makes 'emselves busy, 
From Paddington down to the Bank for a tizzy, 
'Fore they vere inwented I show'd 'em the trick, 
And for every sich job charged two bob and a kick. 

I Then pity poor Jarvey, kind gentlefolks, pray, 
For he 's sadly in debt vithout money to pay. 


Vonce I used to yearn a guinea a day, 
And at night drove the folks to Woxhall or the play ; 
But them days are gone by^ and the people tells me 
As the play-houses now isn't vorth going to see, 
'Cause a chap they calls Bunn 's made a stable of Drury, 
And Macready in Hion you '11 see, I assure ye, 
By paying a sixpence ; and I '11 bet a farden 
That 's the reason they calls t' other house Common Garden. 

Then pity, &c. 

One vould think the fair ladies vould all make a fuss 
At being placed face to face vith the men in a ^buss ; 
Yet some ladies there are, who, betwixt you and I, 
Are fond of a ^buss when a sweetheart is nigh. 
Now, I '11 ask you the question, what can there be vorse 
Then to clap twenty passengers into a hearse ? 
I peep'd into one t' other day, and I saw 
'Twere crammed full of ladies, who were all in the straw. 

Then pity, &c. 

Printed by J. Pitts, Wholesale Toy Warehouse, Great St. Andrew 
Street, Seven Dials. 




From the Paddington Coachmen. 
^^ Nemo mortalium mmiibus horis sapltJ" 
E humbly beg to make our bow to gentry and nobility, 

With that which we are noted for — our uniform civility ; 
Kor Paddington has long been fam'd for werry quiet lads, 
And all agree that none excel the Coachman and their Cads. 

We 've always sarv'd the public well — we always kept our time ; 
Our fares was werry moderate, our cattle werry prime ; 
To think how we 've been wilified our tender feelings shocks. 
For sartainly genteeler men ne'er got upon a box. 

Politeness, we are griev'd to say, is of no sort of sar\'ice. 
And werry groundless prejudice prevails against the Jarveys ; 
And now a clumsy wehicle as started on the road, 
To carry twenty souls inside — a pretty tidy load. 

Look at the three old hacks abreast, and at its rum dirnensions, 
The Devil fetch the omnibus, and all these French inventions ; 
We soon may see if sich machines are us'd by folks of rank — 
The Colosseum perch'd on wheels a rolling to the Bank. 

The cove that started this machine has made a dang'rous move, 
The Omnibus in little time a blunderbuss may prove. 
To us the public must be staunch, and then what will it end in ? 
With Gemmcn he will soon find out the folly of contending. 


But if the public are content to see us so ill-used 
And chuse to sanction the affair oyxr fare must be reduc'd 
rho if a taste for such machines continues to increase 
Some folks may fancy riding in the wan of the police.' 
But still we hope for better things, and while we guide the rein. 
We trust that this appeal, in werse, will not be made in wain ; 
The Man wot drives the Sovereign every British heart engages, 
But we're the lads of Paddington wot always drives the stages. 
Then bad luck to the Omnibus, whosever the consarn is, 
We still will drive as pretty tits as ever went in harness ; 
lo do the trick in bang-up style shall still be our endeavour. 
As civil, as obliging, and as sober lads as ever. 

None will deny our nobs were always screw'd on the right way • 
No other favour we require than clear stage and fair play • 
And when the Omnibus is dead, we '11 make the beer and'gin go 
And celebrate its obsequies in triumph at the Stingo. 

The Stage-Coachman's Lament. 

"TpAREWELL to my tight little cutch ! 
-L Farewell to my neat four inside ! 
Like a shabby old crack'd rabbit-hutch 

They have treated the pet of my pride. 
How she stood on her rollers so clean ! 

How she scuttled along like a doe, 
Or a bowl on a close-shaven green ! 

Ah ! warn't she a rum 'un to go ! 


But now all her claims are forgot, 

And they 've pull'd out her in'ards so soft, 

And they 've laid up her carcass to rot 
In a hole of a cutch-niaker's loft. 

Farewell to my four iron greys. 

And the rest of the prads that I drive ! 

In these selfish and steam sniffing days, 
'Tisn't fit for good hosses to live. 

Your prime fast machiners in lots 
To the hammer are shamefully led : 

'Twere better, like so many stots, 
To knock 'em at once on the head. 

My face from such deeds turns awry — 
Not so with your change-hunting swarm : 

Here 's times for the knackers, says I ; 
'Tis the spirit, says they, of Reform. 

Some pretended to pity my case. 

And they told me — the govenor chaps, 

I might have in the railway a place, 
To look arter the luggage and traps. 

But I bowed, and I grabbed up my hat. 
And shied off, as though stung by a bee ; 

Only think of an offer like that 

To a slap-up swell dragsman like me ! 

A plague on them leaders, the Whigs ! 

I 'm a given to think very much 
That in runnin' their rascally rigs. 

They'll upset, by-and-by, the State-cutch. 


The Charley's Tear. 

"TTPON his beat he stood, 
y~J To take a last farewell 
Of his lantern and his little box, 
Wherein he oft did dwell. 
He listen'd to the clock, 
So familiar to his ear. 
And with the tail of his drab coat 
He wiped away a tear. 

Beside that watchouse door 
A girl was standing close. 
Who held a pocket handkerchief. 
With which she blew her nose. 
She rated well the police man, 
Which made poor Charley queer, 
Who once more took his old drab coat, 
To wipe away a tear. 

He turn'd and left the spot, 
Oh ! do not deem him weak ; 
A sly old chap this Charley was, 
Though tears were on his cheek. 
Go, watch the lads in Fetter Lane, 
Where oft you 've made them fear ; 
The hand, you know, that takes a bribe. 
Can wipe away a tear. 

The London police grew out of the London watch, 
instituted about 1253; the whole system was remodelled 
by Mr., afterwards Sir Robert Peel, by 10 Geo. IV., 19th 
June, and the New Police commenced duty 29th September, 
1829. Sir Richard Mayne was appointed Chief Commis- 
sioner of the Metropolitan district. The new system was not 
popular with the people, nor with those who deemed they 


had '* vested rights," and the constables were considered as 
a target that every one might fire off their chaff and witti- 
cisms at with impunity. The term " Bobby" — after Robert 
Peel, immediately became the cant word, together with 
" Blue Bottles," " Blue Devils," the " Royal Blues ; or, the 
Cook's Own," and other opprobrious terms. Within a month 
of the establishing of the New Police — viz., on the 14th of 
October, 1829, one of the members^ named John Jones, 
was charged, a,t the Hatton Garden Police-station, with 
stealing a scrag of mutton from the stall-board of a butcher, 
named Sommer, in Skinner Street, Somers Town. The 
circumstance having been witnessed by a neighbour, he 
pursued the policeman, and took him into custody. He 
had fifteen shillings and sixpence in his pocket. In his 
defence, he said he was going to take the mutton to show 
his wife. This was a circumstance that could not be lost 
sight of by the Seven Dials printers, and several street- 
papers and ballads were immediately issued on the subject, 
and continued to find a ready sale for some months ; while 
"Who stole the mutton?" became the by-word. Following 
is one of the many ballads that appeared : — 

The New Policeman, 
And the Somers Town Butcher. 
Air — ^'' Bob and J^oan." 
OLLO ! New Police, 


Who in blue coats strut on, 
Your fame you won't increase 

By stealing joints of mutton. 
Who would e'er suppose, 

In such handsome rigging, 
Spick and span new clothes. 
Men would go a prigging ? 

Hollo ! New Police, &c., &c. 


At very little cost 

Jones wished to have a luncheon ; 
But now the blade has lost 

His uniform and truncheon. 
Alas ! the worthy soul, 

While the victuals bagging, 
Tho' a scrag he stole, 

Never dreamt of scragging. Hollo ! &c., &c. 

Off he made to move, 

And mutter'd in retreating, 
" D , this will prove 

Very pretty eating !" 
With this bit of meat, 

Doubtless quite enraptur'd ; 
But joy is very fleet. 

And Mr. Jones was captur'd. Hollo ! &c., &c. 

"Oh!" cried Mr. Jones, 

" This is inconvenient ! 
Curse the mutton bones — 

Gentlemen, be lenient. 
This joint, you will remark 

(The truth I won't conceal it), 
I horroived for a lark — 

I never meant to steal it." Hollo ! &c., &c. 

Here 's a pretty prig. 

Thus went Somers Sam on, 
First my meat to prig. 

And then to pitch his gammon. 
Borrow'd ! blow me tight, 

Seeing is believing ; 
I loves the thing vot 's right, 

And always hated thieving. Hollo ! &c., kc. 


Peel's new plan, I say, 

Ought to be rejected, 
If this here 's the way 

We 're to be protected. 
These coves parade the street 

In dashing dark blue habit ; 
But when they eye our meat, 

'Tis ten to one they grab it. Hollo ! &c., &c. 

'Twas droll to hear the chaff 

When they were embodied ; 
Now it makes me laugh 

To see so many quodded. 
Thieves may feel secure, 

Whate'er the hour or weather, 
For Sam is very sure 

They are all rogues together. 

Hollo ! &c., &c. 

The City of London successfully rejected the introduction 
of the New Police within their territories. " They vorn't a 
going to hav' no new French Police Spy system in their 
ancient and honourable City," said Aldermen Cute-Grub- 
Bub-Turtle-and-Soup, " not if ve knows it." Therefore, no 
one will be surprised at frequently reading in the newspapers 
of the period paragraphs like the following : — 

At Guildhall, on Monday, October 12th, 1829, after Sir Peter Laurie 
had admonished and discharged a disorderly woman, who had been 
accused of being noisy in the street, he asked her accuser, a watchman, 
named Livingstone, where his beat was ? The watchman said it was 
from St. Dunstan's Church to Temple Bar. Do you find any increase of 
bad characters on your beat ? Watchman (smiling) : Yes, I believes I 
do; the New Policeman drives 'era into the City. Sir Peter : Then 
you should drive them back again ; it would be better than taking them 
up. Watchman : When there was a quarrel among them the other 
night, a policeman came up and drove them through the Bar, .saying, 
"Ye shan't stand hero ; go into the City with your rows." Sir Peter 



Laurie said that he had heard that a police magistrate had directed the 
policemen to drive all bad characters into the City. If there was any 
truth in this, it was an imprudent— an improper obser\'ation. He desired 
the watchman present to drive all the bad characters out of the City. 
The thing must be put dowTi. vSubsequently, some vagrants ^\•ere 
brought up, and Sir Peter told them to drive them out of the City 
instead of apprehending them in future. "We can play at tennis-ball," 
said the Alderman, in an under tone. 

"Who Stole the Mutton?" together with many other 
words and phrases in reference to the supposed partiaUty of 
the police to The Cook! The Kitchen! ! and TJie Cold 
Mutton ! ! ! have clung to the service from the day of its 
formation to the present time, while comic writers of all 
degrees, in farces, burlesques, songs, and pantomimes, have 
never failed to make capital out of the New Police, Peel's 
Raw-Lobsters, Peelers, Blue Bottles, &c., &c. 

I 'm One of the New Police. 

I'M one of the New Police — egad. 
The servant maids declare 
There is not a lout in all the Force, 
Can strut with such an air. 


My gloves of white, my coat of blue, 

My dignity increase — 
My every gesture shows to you 
I 'm one of the New Police. 

The New Police — ha, ha ! 
I 'm one of the New Police ! 

I 'm partial to an outside beat, 

'Cause there I feels secure, 
When with the servant girls I romi) 

And play at some back door. 
I love to loll in kitchens, too. 

Rough mutton joints to fleece, 
I'm now in want of prog, 

I 'm one of the New Police. 

The New Police, &c. 

'Tis pleasant, when I peckish feel, 

With Moll or Bess to stop. 
And coax them till they go below. 

And broil a mutton chop. 
Large rounds of beef I gaze upon, 

Just wink and earn a piece, 
I 'd rather than a borough lout 

Be one of the New Police. 

The New Police, &c. 

I 'd us'd to live on low lobscousc, 

'Twas foolish — I'd no sense — 
I now live like a fighting-cock, 

With little or no expence. 
I was a journeyman tailor once. 

But now I 'm in the peace ; 
I lie — swear false — break heads — egad ! 

1 'm one of the New Police ? 

The New Police, &c. 



Now, then, Sir, I '11 trouble you to move on ! 
The Lobsters' Clause ; or, The New Police Bill. 

I SING, I sing, of the new bill, sir, 
That to the people seems a pill, sir, 
And shortly I '11 relate its clauses. 
That you may know what the police law is. 
First and foremost, in a straight line running, 
For fifteen miles it will stop your funning. 
From Charing Cross, which ever way you turn, sir, 
If you infringe, your fingers you '11 burn, sir. 
Oh,, dear, oh, dear ! they 're better off in Greece, sir. 
Free from this Metropolis Police, sir. 

All the people who used to shew, sir, 
Traps on the pavement, will find it no go, sir, 
And now within their shop or dwelling. 
Their oddcum shorts they must be selling. 
If maids after eight their mats should beat, sir. 
At the treadmill they '11 have a treat. 
And, if little boys roll hoops, or fly kites, sir, 
They '11 be lock'd up seven days and nights, sir. 
Oh, dear, &c. 


By Sally Sprigoins, Spinster. 

OH ! do not say of womankind, 
That a scarlet coat will enthral 'em ; 
If rags could enchant the fair ones thus, 

Rag fair ones you might call 'em. 
I never was fond of the garb of war, 

Give me the robe of peace — 
The deep, deep blue of X 41, 
The Flower of the New Police. 

I know I 'se many rivals, love 

There 's three as lives next door, 
And caps, I hear, are set at you. 

At number 44 ; 
And I \vash the maid at three-and-a-half 

Would please to hold her peace. 
And not go telling lies of me 

To the Flower of the New Police. 

She says I love you, single X, 

And double X, beside. 
But that 's all for to hinder you 

From making me your bride. 
Whate'er they say, my love for you 

Will never, never cease. 
So come to my arms, X 41, 

Thou Flower of the New Police. 


The Righteous Peeler. 

THAT I 'm a righteous cove, 
To you I 'd not be boasting, 
Throughout my Hfe I 've strove 
Of money to bring most in ; 
I am now in the PoHce, 

Of course then to be witty, 
I make folks keep the peace, 

So Hsten to my ditty. Rum turn, ik^ 

By prigs I am well-known. 

Because I make 'em step hard, 
I 'm christened well, I own, 

For they all call me " Jack Shepi)ard,"' 
Housebreakers, too, I hook, 

And with 'em I makes slaughter, 
With my false-swearing look, 

They 're dragged across tlie water. 

J\iim turn ki 


The New Policeman. 

T^LOOD and ouns, faith, and why do you laugh? 
-^ I 'm a gentleman that knows how to fleece man, 
\'c spalpeens now stow all your chaff. 

Don't you see I 'm a new policeman, 
I 'm created by great Mr. Peel, 

Your morality, faith, to decrease man, 
And by the powers I '11 make you feel, 
Because 1 'm a new policeman. 

Hubboboo wack, fal de, &c. 

From Lim'rick's sweet city I came, 

Without a shoe to my back, sir, 
I carried a hod — what a shame ! 

Eut now I 'm a gentleman, oh, wack, sir ! 
I 'm dress'd in a neat suit of blue, 

I 'm so pleased that it never will cease, man. 
And a shillelah I sport, too. 

Because I 'm a new policeman. 

Och ! once if I kicked up a row. 

In a shake I was walked before a beak, sir ; 

And the great big son of a sow, 

Would send me to quod for one week, sir ; 

But now things are alter'd you see, 
• If you hit 'tis a breach of the peace, man. 

So I kick up a row for a spree, 
Because I 'm a new policeman. 


George IV,, after a long and painful illness, expired at 
Windsor on the 26th of June, 1830, in the sixty-eight year 
of his age. He was succeeded by his brother, the Duke of 
Clarence, who ascended the throne as William IV. He was 
received by the people with that popular enthusiasm which 
his frank and manly bearing, characteristic of his profession 
as a British sailor, was so calculated to excite. The Sailor 
King, an^ even Billy, the Sailor King, at once became 
popular words. Of the many street-ballads written on the 
subject we select the following : — 

Our King is a True British Sailor. 

TOO long out of sight have been kept Jolly Tars, 
In the ground-tiers, like huts stow'd away, 
Despis'd and contemn'd were their honour'd scars, 

And Red Coats were Lords of the day. 
But Britannia now moves as a gallant first-rate. 

And with transports the Blue Jackets hail her ; 
For William's right hand steers the helm of the State, 
And our King is a true British Sailor. 

No danger the heart of a seaman appals. 

To fight or to fall he is ready, 
The safeguard of Britain is her wooden walls, . 

And the Helmsman cries, "Steady ! boys, steady !" 
Cheer up, my brave boys, give the wheel a new spoke, 

If a foe is in view we will hail her. 
For William the Fourth is a sound heart of oak, true Blue, 
and a bold British Sailor. 

The wild winds around us may furiously whistle, 

And tempest the ocean deform. 
But unite the red rose, the shamrock and thistle, 

With King William we '11 weather the storm \ 

JAMt.i, C.UA.tL //. -Mj 

Hard up with the hehn, Britannia's sheet flows, 

Magna Charta on board will avail her, 
And better she sails, as the harder it blows, 

For her Pilot's a King and a Sailor. 

Co-e(iual with red be the gallant true blue, 

And nought can their glories o'erwhelm, 
Whilst Sydney and Freemen direct the bra\e crew, 

And William presides at the helm ; 
Then fill up a bumper, Britannia appears 

New rigg'd, and with joy we all hail her. 
Here 's a health to the King, with three times three cheers,. 

And long life to the first British Sailor. 

Printed by T. BIRT, No. lo, Great St. Andrew Street, 7 Dials. 


The late Duke of Wellington was, from the entering upon 
his life as a statesman, in 1822, until his death, in 1852, con- 
sidered as a common target whereat caricaturists, political, 
satirical, comic writers of every degree, and ballad-mongers 
might shoot at with impunity, while familiar titles, as "Nosey," 
the " Iron Duke," and a dozen others, were applied with the 
greatest freedom by the people. According to his biogra- 
pher, the Rev. George Robert Gleig, the latter sobriquet 
arose out of the building of an iron steamboat, which plied 
between Liverpool and Dublin, and which its owners 
called the "Duke of Wellington." The term "Iron Duke," 
was first applied to the vessel ; and by-and-by, rather in jest 
than in earnest, it was transferred to the Duke himself. From 
the close intimacy existing between William IV. and the 
Duke, the latter was generally spoken and written of as : — 

The Man Wot Drives iue Sovereign. 


The Act, ist William, commonly called The Beer Bill; 
or, the three B.B.B.'s — i.e., " Billy's Beer Bill " — was passed 
with the mistaken view of enabling the humble classes to 
obtain a necessary beverage, better and cheaper than at the 
public-houses, for home consumption. That was the aver- 
ment ; but, as a matter of fact, the practice of private brewing 
has rapidly declined ; nevertheless, the passing of the Bill 
jjroved to be an unexpected piece of good fortune for the 
Seven Dials poets and i>rinters. Songs, dialogues, cate- 
chisms, &c., were written and printed off daily, the gist of 
all being that both the people and the beer would be 

Allowed to be Drumc on the Pkkmises. 



Heavy Wet. 

King William and Reform, I say, 
In such a case who can be neuter ? 

Just let me blow the froth away, 

And see how I will drain the pewter. 

Another tankard, landlord, fill, 

And let us drink to that ere chap, Broom 
And then we '11 chaunt God save King Bill, 

And send the echoes thro' the tap-room. 


I Likes a Drop of Good Beer. 


lOME, one and all, both great and small, 
With voices loud and clear, 
And let us sing, bless Billy our king. 
Who 'bated the tax upon beer. 
Chorus. — For I likes a drop of good beer, I do, 
I likes a drop of good beer, 

And his eyes whoever tries 

To rob a poor man of his beer. 

Let ministers shape the duty on cape, 
And cause port wine to be dear, 

So that they keep the bread and meat cheap, 
And give us a drop of good beer. 
For I likes, itc 


My wife and I feel always dry, 
At market on Saturday night, 

Then a muggin of beer I never' need fear, 
For my wife always says it is right. 
For she likes, &c. 

In farmers' field there's nothing can yield 
The labouring man such good cheer 

To reap and sow, and make barley grow, 
And to give em a skin full of beer. 
For they like, &c. 

Long may King Billy reign, 

And be to his subjects dear, 
And wherever he goes we '11 wollop his foes, 

Only give us a skin full of beer. 
For we like, &c. 


Ballooning, by means of steam, aerial screw machines, 
with sails, rudders, and a variety of other ill-devised con- 
trivances, were, at this Y>enod, J/oa^ed by flighty individuals, 
and afforded a never failing source for comic and satirical 
writers, from St. Giles' to St. James', and back again, to 
exercise their good, bad, and indifferent talents upon. 

The /Erial Ship. 

WONDERS, sure, will never cease, at least so people say, 
But always keep on the increase, and very well they may, 
Since multiplying 's all the go. and getting on a head. 
We are making wonders now — how shall we get our bread ? 

The /Erial ship seems all the go, that 's if she '11 go at all ; 

Some think she '11 make a wondrous hit, some think she '11 make a fall. 

'Tis certain if she makes a hit, at the rate she 's going to go, 

To all things standing in her way she '11 give a sure death blow. 

Railways, then, need be no more, balloons no more be seen — 
The wonders of the Great Nassau will then look very green. 
All the shipping may lie up, and the seamen, in despair, 
Must sleep on board of boilers, and live on smoke and air. 

Hut though these things may come to pass, they have not yet appear'd. 
And dangers, when they 're out of sight, they never should be fearVl. 
And all our dread and doubt of this may only be a joke, 
For projects which we build in air most often end in smoke. 


WHAT wonders spring up every day, sirs, 
Surely they will never stay, sirs ; 
The march of intellect is blooming. 
And the mania now is all ballooning. 
There 's Mr. Green, so seromantick, 
Has built a balloon — in size, gigantic — 
Which, when of gas there is a plenty, 
Instead of one, will take up twenty I 

The folks now talk both night and noon, sirs, 
Of the wonders of this great balloon, sirs. . 


Steam carriages by land are now the order of the day, sir, 
But why they haven't started yet, 'tis not for me to say, sir ; 
Some people hint 'tis uphill work — that loose they find a screw, sir, 
Such novelties, as Pat would say, of old they never knew, sir. 

Bow, wow, &c. 

Song of the Steam Coachman that drives the Omnibus 
TO THE Moon. 

"I^TOW is the time for a sly trip to the Moon, sir, 
-LM There 's a new Rail Road just made through the Sky, 
Or if you prefer it, we have a prime Balloon, sir. 
In which you can ascend with me up sky-high. 
Travelling the rage is — in the tying of a sandal, 
We take our tea in Tartary, or chop at Coromandel, 
Then when blazing hot we get with India's gums and spices. 
We take a stroll towards the Pole, and cool our-sehvs ivith ices. 
Now is the time for a sly trip to the Moon, sir, iliic. 


Our Horses they never tire, for they 're coal and roke, sir, 

Withy^^/Zj' lots of water boiling hot, 
We cut along like bricks among \\icfirc and smoke, sir, 

Never blcrwing no one up, nor going to pot. 

Our Coachman nice and steady is, not like the old fat soaker. 

For 'stead of /rt'^j/V/^ glasses round, he passes round TUK PoKER : 

Our Guards, too, are a quiet set of p're-blowing FKhhOWS, 

Who 'stead of blowing noisy Horns, now bloio a Pair ov Bellows ! 

Now is the time for a sly trip to the Moon, sir. 

There 's a new Rail Road just made through tkc_ Sky, 

Or if you prefer it, we have a prime Balloon, sir, 
In which you can ascend with me up sky-high. 

The practicability of running steam carriages upon com- 
mon roads now occupied the attention of scientific men, and 
experiments were made with various degrees of success. 

The Select Committee appointed to inquire into the 
power, &c., of Steam Carriages, concluded their report with 
the following summary : — i. That carriages can be propelled 
by steam on common roads at an average rate of ten miles 
per hour. 2. That at this rate they have conveyed upwards 
of fourteen passengers. 3. That their weight, including 
engine, fuel, water, and attendants, may be under three tons. 
4. That they can ascend and descend hills of considerable 
inclination with facility and ease. 5. That they are per- 
fectly safe for passengers. 6. That they are not (or need 
not be, if properly constructed) nuisances to the public. 
7. That they will become a speedier and cheaper mode of 
conveyance than carriages drawn by horses. 8. That, as 
they admit of greater breadth of tire than other carriages, 
and as the roads are not acted on so injuriously as by the 
feet of horses in common draught, such carriages will cause 
less wear of roads than coaches drawn by horses. 9. That 
rates of toll have been imposed on steam carriages which 
would prohibit their being used on several lines of road were 
such charges permitted to remain unaltered. 



The Odds and Ends of the Year 


/^-^OME listen awhile, I '11 sing you a song 
V^ Concerning the times, and I will not keep vou long 
To please you right well I mean to prevail " 

I will begin at the head, and leave off at the tail. 
Choms.—KxiA they are all chaffing. 
Chaff, chaff, chaffing, 
And they are all chaffing, -, 

In country and in town. ■ 

w7 T'tl '"'' '^"'^ °' '^' "^^^ ^^"g ^"d Queen ? I 

Why they tell me in Brighton they are to be seen, I 

Where lots of nobility do follow, you are sure " 
And I hope before long they '11 do something 'for the poor 

And what do you think of my Lords Broom and Grey? 
They are Whigs, and they frightened all the Tories, they say 

And I hope all their promises they mean to fulfil. 


What do you think of old Arthur and Bob? 

Why I think they 're in a mess, for they can't get a job ; 

May Bobby sell his trap, and old Nosey^ to the sod. 

Oh, how I should laugh if they both went to quod. 

What do you think of the new Lord Mayor ?3 

Why a short time ago he made thousands to stare, 

He kept them from a dinner, oh ! he was mighty civil, 

And the bellies of the citizens did groan like the devil. 

What do you think of the ex-King of France ? 

W^hy I think he done well off to Scotland to dance, 

When he 'd caused a disturbance from the nation he flew, 

And his Ministers are in dungeons, singing parlableu. 

What do you think of Saint John Long? 4 

Them that think him a Doctor must be great in the wTong ; 

From Justice he has flew, and if he does come back, 

To the devil they '11 send him, singing qiiack ! quack ! 

What do you think of bold Captain Swing ps 
I think through the country he has done a wicked thing. 
He has caused great destruction in England and France, 
If Justice o'ertakes him on nothing he '11 dance. 

1. — In allusion to the political "Ratting" of the 2nd Sir Robert 
reel. 1788—1850. 

2. — The late Duke of Wellington. 1769 — 1852. 
3. — Aldemian Key, Mayor, 1830. Invitation declined by King 
William IV^. ; and the show and inauguration dinner omitted, from 
apprehension of riot and outrage. 

4. — A notorious quack doctor. 1798 — 1834. 

5. — A fictitious and much-dreaded name signed to incendiary threats 
ill the rural districts at the time of the introduction of agricultural 

Lex Talionis. 
As " .Swing's " wild justice is to Burn, 

It is hut to reverse the thing. 
And tell the culprit in his turn — 

It is " Burn's Justice" he sliould "Swing." 


What do you think of bold Henry Hunt ? 

W^7}^^ "" \7^ '^^' ^"" ^P^^k "^'^ «^i"d blunt, 
He IS chosen M.P., he is clever and cute, 

He will polish up the Commons like a Wellington boot. 
What do you think of Ireland's Dan ? 
I thmk that O'Connell is a valiant man 
For the Union of Erin he loudly does call, 
And he says he is determined to agitate them all. 
What do you think of the new Policemen now ? 
At Union Hall Police Office there has been a row, 
One thought to get promoted, oh ! wasn't he a fla , 
To take a loaded pistol and fire at his hat. 

What do you think of the new London Bridge grand 

Why It will be very handsome, I 'm certain and sure, 
But the money would look better, feeding the poor. 

fXf';>^^-^I^T, -j^ Great St. Andrew Street 
(wholesale and retail) lU, Seven Dials, LcK^on.' 

<-0""try Orders punctually attended to 

Every descnption of Printing on the n.ost reasonable terms. 

Children's Books, Battledores, Pictures, &c. 



Founded on Fact. 

IN Gray's Inn, not long ago, 
An old maid lived a life of woe ; 
She was fifty-three, with a face like tan. 
And she fell in love with a dogs'-meat man. 
Much she loved this dogs'-meat man. 
He was a good-looking dogs'-meat man ; 
Her roses and lilies were turn'd to tan, 
WTien she fell in love wi' the dogs'-meat man. 

Every morning when he went by, 

Whether the weather was wet or. dry. 

And right opposite her door he 'd stand. 

And cr>' "dogs' meat," did this dogs'-meat man. 

Then her cat would run out to the dogs'-meat man, 

And rub against the barrow of the dogs'-meat man, 

As right opposite to her door he 'd stand. 

And cry "Dogs' Meat," did this dogs'-meat man. 


One mom she kept him at the door, 

Talkmg, half-an-hour or more ; 

For, you must know, that was her plan, 

To have a good look at the dogs'-meat man. 

" Times are hard," says the dogs'-meat man ; 

'* Folks get in my debt," says the dogs'-meat man ; 

Then he took up his barrow, and away he ran. 

And cried " Dogs' Meat," did this dogs'-meat man. 

He soon saw which way the cat did jump, 

And his company he offered plump ; 

She couldn't blush, 'cause she 'd no fan, 

So she sot and grinned at the dogs'-meat man. 

"If you '11 man-y me," says the dogs'-meat man, 

"I'll have you," says the dogs'-meat man ; 

For a quartern of peppermint then he ran. 

And she drink'd a good health to the dogs'-meat man. 

That very evening he was seen. 

In a jacket and breeches of velveteen. 

To Bagnigge- Wells, then, in a bran 

New gown, she went with the dogs'-meat man : 

She 'd biscuits and ale with the dogs'-meat man, 

And walked arm-in-arm ^\'ith the dogs'-meat man ; 

And the people all said, what round- did stan' 

He was quite a dandy dogs'-meat man. 

He said his customers, good lord ! 

Owed him a matter of two pound odd ; 

And she replied, it was quite scan- . 

Dalous to cheat such a dogs'-meat man. 

" If I had but the money," says the dogs'-meat man, 

" I 'd open a tripe-shop," says the dogs'-meat man, 

" And I 'd marry you to-morrow." — She admired his plan. 

And she lent a five-pound note to the dogs'-meat man. 

He pocketed the money and went away. 

She waited for him all next day, 

But he never com'd ; and then she began 

To think she was diddled by the dogs'-meat man ; 

She went to seek this dogs'-meat man, 

But she couldn 't find the dogs'-meat man ; 

Some friend gave her to understan' 

He 'd got a wife and seven children — this dogs'-meat man. 



So home she went, with sighs and tears, 

As her hopes were all transformed to fears. 

And her hungry cat to mew began. 

As much as to say, — " Where 's the dogs'-meat man?" 

She couldn't help thinking of the dogs'-meat man, 

The handsome, swindling, dogs'-meat man ; 

So you see, just in one day's short span, 

She lost her heart, a five-pound note, and the dogs'-meat man. 

Printed by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth (Jourt, 7 Dials. 

g 2 


. Mr. Hunt, the great political firebrand of the day- 
Radical Hunt — made a public entry into London on 
January nth, 1831, in honour of his return as M.P. for 
Preston. He was met at Islington Green by a large body 
of persons, flags, &c., who attended him from that place to 
his house in Stamford Street, Blackfriars. The procession — 
in which the hon. member's " Matchless Blacking " car 
formed a conspicuous object — passed down the City Road, 
across Finsbury Square, through the City, the Strand, 
Parliament Street, across Westminster Bridge, and thence 
to Mr. Hunt's residence. The circumstance caused several 
street-papers and ballads to be produced. In fact, Hunt 
was very popular with the mob, and anything in respect to 
him found a ready sale in the streets of the metropolis, 
while he, with his red-hot Radicalism and his " Matchless 
Blacking" game, worked the oracle to his own profit and self 
aggrandizement, and had the blessings of many a street- 
patterer heaped upon him ! " Yes, sir, ' Old Blacking Pot,' 
as ' Peterloo Jack^ (who was a Manchester man, and had one 
of his legs broken in the Peterloo Massacre, in 18 19, and 
who was a sort of a captain of a school, or companionship, 
of patterers), used to call him, was an out-and-out friend to 
the poets, printers, and patterers of the Seven Dials quarter. 
Yes, sir, he was a very good sort to all us people, sir." 

In the month of April, 1831, Mr. F. Lewis introduced in 
the House of Commons a Bill for the better regulation of 
the delivery of coals in London and Westminster. The 
hon. member explained the evils and exposed the absurdity 
of the sale by measure. Solid coals were sent to London, 
but there broken to fill the measure easier. He would have 
sacks to hold a certain weight, and a machine to each wharf 
to weigh them. The following street-ballad was published 
at the period : — 



The New Coal Act. 

SEE how the people through the streets 
On New Year's Day did roll, 
All think with wonder and surprise 

To buy their coke and coal : 
It is a fact, this New Coal Act 

Strikes wonder through the nation, 
Some look with scorn, saying " Here 's Reform 
Complete in operation." 
Chorus. — So list awhile unto my song, 
All you that are at leisure, 
I '11 tell you how they sell the coals, 
By weight instead of measure. 

I say, Mr. Short Weight, I want a peck of coals. We 
don't make a quarter of a peck, half-bushel, nor bushel, our 
coals is 7 lbs. i^d. Why, lawk ! I never heard of such a 
thing. Well, you hear it now, madam. Well, how many 
am I to have for a penny ? Why, 2 lbs. 2 oz. If that is 
all, I can carry them in a teacup. Ten pounds and a 
half of coals, if you please, and no cinders among them, 
the last I had were all slates. 

So now the new year has arrived, 

Mark well what I do say. 
We may expect continually 

Something new start every day. 
Something always to oppress the poor, 

And keep them all forlorn, 
I wonder when King William means 

This nation to Reform ? 

A quarter of a peck of coals, and a half-peck of coke. 
Confound the people, they are all mad ; our coals and coke 
are all sold by weight. Are yours Newcastle or Sunderland 
coals ? Why, both, they come from Penzance. Arrah ! bad 


luck to you, you shcating humbug ; by St. Patrick ! I will 
pull you and your coke over the coals, you sheated my little 
Paddy this morning out of a quarter of a pound of coke, 
you spalpeen, you. I say, Mr. Smuttyface, that aint veight, 
put in another little nub ; la ! look mother, here is three 
pieces of stones in my hat among the coals. Well, if this 
is all the Reform the poor are to get, I wish their Reform 
was among the Turks in the West Indies. 

Then off goes Httle Bob for coals, 

Off goes Bet, and then her mother, 
A weighing of the coals and coke, 

Oh ! what a fuss and bother. 
One cries out this is not Aveight, 

I swear by this and that, 
Bet puts them in her apron, 

And Jemmy in his hat. 

What weight do you call this ? That is a seven pound 
weight ma'am. I don't think it is above three ; why, what 
a small bit of coals for i^d. ! Plenty for t"he money. I 
sa)^, Mr. Smut, is the Cholera Morbus among your coals ? 
Why, sir ? Why, because in the fourteen pounds of coals 
I bought of you last night there was just 13^ lbs. of slates, 
dirt, stones, cinders, and all manner of things, and I thought 
that might have been the Cholera Morbus. I say, Mrs. 
Speedwell, what have you got. in your apron? Nothing, sir. 
You have, you have just stole them two nubs of coal while 
I have been weighing the coals for my customers ; is it not 
a very hard thing that people is to be robbed before their 
own eyes ? Here 's another chap putting a piece of coal in 
his breeches pocket. My coals aint veight. My coals is 
all coke. My coals are all dirt and cinders, and two pounds 

One begins to pocket a lump of coal, 
Oh ! what a pretty joke, 


One swears it is slates and cinders, 
And another vows it is coke. 

'J'hey will keep them busy weighing, 
And little be at leisure. 

What a fuss there is in selling coals, 
By weight instead of measure. 

Printed by T. BIRT, No. 39, Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials 


ADIEU ! my weekly wash, adieu ! 
A weeping heart thy loss bewails ; 
Perhaps I never more may view 

Thy stiffen'd collars, draggled tails ; 
No, thou art fled — my only hope. 

Thy smoke and dirt are lost to me ; 
Adieu to pearlash, farewell soap. 

Oh, base Steam Washing Company ! 

Adieu, my weekly wash, &c. 
No more I '11 be a laundress gay, 

And get a lunch and cheerful sup, 
Or rub for half-a-crown a day ! 

My broken bits, my snuff's knock'd up. 
No more with jokes the hours I '11 cheer, 

Fled, fled 's my darling cup of tea. 
For Fate has taken all, oh dear, 
To the Steam Washing Company ! 

Adieu, my weekly wash, &c. 

Oh, how I wish there ne'er was smoke, 

And I should then not live on air ; 
I 'd keep my tul), I 'd crack my joke. 

And in my boils I 'd drown despair. 
For Fortune looks just like stone blue. 

And poverty is wringing me. 
But every joy has left my view 

For thee — Steam Washing Company ! 

Adieu, my weekly wash, &c. 

' Printed by J. Catnach, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials 
Battledores, Lotteries, and Primers sold cheap. 





BTTBEIHG AHD BUSEIEBS V>^<^, Thomu Wmi«im, J«nioi Miy, md UichMl 

* Bhielo, were eiflmincd at Bow Strttt Police Offloe on 

the charge of being conoemed in tho wilful mnrdar of 
an unknown lUtian boy. From the evidence addnoed. 

The month of November, 1831. will be recorded in 
the annaJf of crimes and cmeltiea as particnlarly pre- 
eminent, for it will prove to posterity that other 
wretches ooold be found bass enough to follow the 
horrid example of Burke and his accomplice Hare, to 
entice the unprotected and firiendleaa to the den of 
death for sordid gain. 

The horrible crime of " Burking," or mnrderiag the 
unwary with the intention of selling their bodies at a 
high price to the anatomical schools, for the purpose of 
dissection, has unfortunately obtained a notoriety which 
will not bo soon or easily forgotten. It took its horrify- 
ing appellation from the circumstances which were 
disclosed on the trial of the inhuman wretch Burke, 
who was executed at Edinburgh in 1829, for haring 
wilfully and deliberately murdered several persons for 
the sole purpose of pro6tiDg by the sale of their dead 


On Tueaday, November 8th, four pereona, viz.. John 

appeared that May, o/iu Jack Stirabout, 

and Bishop, a body-snatther, offered 

g's College a rabjeot for s^e. Shield and ( 
Williams having charge of the body in a hamper, for ; 
which they demanded twelve guinesa. ■ Mr Partri4g^ ( 
demonstrator of anatomy, who, sllhougb not in abaohiti 
want of a subject, offei«d nine guineas, but being struck 
with its fV«chnc«s sent a messenger to the police station, 
and the fellows were then taken iato custody, examined 
before the magistrates, whan Shield was discharged and 
the others ultimately committed for tri^ 


Friday, Deoombi-r 2ud, having been axed for ths 
trial of tho prisoners charged with the murder of tlM 
Italian boy, the Court was crowded to excess so early 
as eight o'clock in the morning 

At nine o'clock the D«puty Beoorder, l£r 8«ij««BI 


AratiB, e*me Into tKe ooort, *heB tlis 
•evei-ully ^oodod " Not Ooiltj." 
■» The /ury were then •worn, sod at t«s o'clock Chief 
Justice Tiodal.'MrBaronYaughim, and Ur Justice LitUe^ 
dale cul»!rodtbeCourt,iriththeLordiIayor and Sheriffs. 

The Bench waa crowded with persona of rank, 
amongtt whoni waa the Duke of Stuaox. 

Ur Bodkin having opened the caae* Ur Adolpbru 
prooeedud to state to tho J1U7 the leading facta, aa they 
wen afWwarda stated in the evidence prodoced. The 
caae for the prosccatioo ha\'ing doaed, tha priaonera 
were called upon for their defence. 

Tlie prisoner Bishop in hia defence ((ated that he 
inia tb .rty-tbree years of age, aad had followed the 
Occupation of carrier till the last five* years, during 
■vbicn he had oooaaionally obtained a livelihood by 
eupplying surgeons with lubiects. He moet solemnly 
declared thM he had never diapoaed of any body that 
had not died a natural death. 

WilUajns' defence beiefly stated that he had never 
been ungaged iji the calling of a resurrectionist, but 
had only by accident accompanied Bishop on tho sale of 
tt«> ItiUan boy's body. 

yay, in his defence, admitted that fbr the Jast all 
y€a.-« he bad followed the occupation of supplying the 
medical schools with anatomical subjects, but disclaimed 
ever hsving had anything to do n'itn the sale of bodies 
which had not died a natural death. That he had 
•ecideotally met with Bishop ot fhe Fortune of War 
public house on the Friday on which the body waa 
taken for aale to Guy's Hospital. 

iA eight o'olook the jury retired 

▼eidiot^aoJ'on thalr xetnm they fo«sd the prisonen 
were Ooilty of Murder. 

The R«cord<;r then passed the awAil sentence upon 
them, "Tha^ each of them be.Kiogrd on Monday 
mogilng, and thoir bodies be delivaned over for diaaee- 
tion &na anatomizatioo." 

The priaooers heard the.' («ntence aa they had tha 
verdict, without any visible alieralion. May raised hia 
voice, and m. a firm tone said, " 1 am a murdered man. 


On Saturday morning Williama addressed. i> sole to 
Mr 'Wontufr, stofing that ho and Bishop wanted 
perticnlarly to ooe him and Dr. Cotton, the Ordinary. 
in the course of the interview which immedialelT 
followed, both prisoners made a ftJl confession of their 
guilt, both rlculpstiog May altogether from being party 
to any of tHo murders. Having received tljo confes- 
sions, Mr Wohtner immediately waited upon Mr Juslio* 
littledale and Baron Vaughan, and upon communicat- 
ing to them the statements, they said they would at once 
see the Home Secretary on the subject. 

On Sunday morting Uie Sheriffs visited all three of 
the prisoners in Guccession, and with the Under-Sbcriffa 

down the statements of the c«nvieta. The result of a 
these investigations iros that the same afternoon % 
respite during his Majesty's pleasure arrived at New>- 
gate for May, and his .sentence will .be commsted to 
transportation for life. 


Dunng the whole of Sunday crowds of persons ■^n- 
gregated in the Qld Bailey, and the spot 00 which the 
acaffold waa to be ere';te<l was covered with individuals 
converging on the horrid crimes of the con\icta, and in 
the course of tho day strong posts were erected in the 
Old Bailey and ot tho ends of Newgate street Oiltepur 
street, and Skinner street, for the purpose of \ornung 
barriers to break the pressure of the crowd. 

At half-past twelve o'clock the gallows was brought 
out fh)m the yard, and drawn to its usual station 
opposite the Debtor's door. The crowd, as early as one 
oclock amounting to several thousand peradna, con- 
tioued rapidly increasing. 

By some oversight three chains had been suspended 
fW>m the fatal beam, and this led tho crowd to suppose 
that May had not been respited. Mr. Wontnor, on 
keariog of the mistake, directed that ooe of the chains 
<hould be ceaoved. The moment this was done an 
exdama^on of "May is respited," ran th.ough the 
crowd, and, contrary to the expected tokens of indigna- 
tion, distinct cheers were beard amongst the crowd on 
witoeseing this token that mercy had been thowa to 

At half-paat abven the SheriA arrived in their 
carriage, and in a short time the press-yard was 
thronged with gentlemen. The unhappy convicts were 
DOW iod Crom their cells. Bishop cams out first, and 

alter he wss pinioned he was conducted to a seat, ud 
the Eev. Mr. Williams' sat alongside of him, aud they 
converged together in.o low tone of xoice. 

Williams was iRit intioduce4, and the wonderful 
alteration two day! had effected in hia appearance 
astonished everyone who was piresent at the trial. All 
the bold confidence he exhibited then had completely 
forsaken him, end he looked the most miserable wretch 
it is possible to conceive. He entered the room with a 
very faltering "Yep,' and when the ceremony of pinion- 
ing him commenced, he waa so weak as to be scarcely 
able to stand. 

Everythiug being ready, the meltncholy procession 
moved forward. Bisbop was then conducted to tho 
scaffold, and the moment he made his appearonce thtt 
most dreadful yoUs and hootings were hoard among tB« 
crowd. The cxecQ'.ioser proceeded at once to the per- 
fonnanco of his duty, and having put the ropo round 
his neck aad affixed it to a ohoin, pkced him under the 
fetal beom. Williams was then taken out, aid the 
groans and hisses were renewed. The dreadfijl pre- 
poratioas. were soon completed, and in less th»n five 
minutes aft«r the wrotchod men appeared on theKaffold 
tho usual signol was given, the drop fell, and they rera 
launched into eternity. Bishop appeared to die very 
soon, but Williams struggled hard. Thus died 


PilaiofI lo Li>id» tor thi Vcolort. 


It may be remarked, en passant, that Mr. Corder, with 
Paragalli and CoUa, the two Italian witnesses, who gave 
evidence as to the identity of the body, said to be that of 
the Itahan boy, at the trial of Bishop, Williams, and May, 
ap])eared at Bow Street, in consequence of doubts being 
entertained by a portion of the public as to the body being 
that of Carlo Ferrari, to re-assert their former evidence. 
Mr. Corder afterwards published a statement in the " Times " 
newspaper, which gave scarcely the possibility of doubt that 
the body offered at King's College must have beeti that of 
Ferrari, notwithstanding the murderer's assertion to the 
contrary. On December the loth, a Post-obit prosecution of 
Williams, the Burkite murderer, took place in the Court of 
Excise, where he was charged, on information, with having 
carried on an illicit factory for making glass at No. 2, Nova 
Scotia Gardens, Bethnal Green. An officer proved the 
seizure of goods used in the manufacture of glass, at the 
house of the person charged, and that Bishop was at the 
time in company. The Court condemned the goods seized. 

A drama on the subject of the " Burkers" was produced 
at an unlicensed theatre, designated The Shakespeare, in 
the neighbourhood of the Curtain Road, Shoreditch, and 
for a time was specially attractive. In the young actor, who 
I)layed Carlo Ferrari, the Italian boy, might now be recog- 
nised an eminent trai2fedian.* 

* E. L. Blanchard, in an article entitled, "Vanished Theatres,' 
the Era Almanack, 1877. 


That the murder of CcHa HoUoway by her husband, Julin 
Wilham Holloway, at Brighton, in the year 1831, created a 
profound sensation in its immediate neighbourhood, and 
throughout the country generally, there can be no doubt. 
There are many circumstances in connection with the foul 
deed that would lead to that end. The somewhat romantic 
manner of finding the trunk of the murdered woman, 
imperfectly buried, in such a peaceful and retired spot as 
the " Lover's Walk," and under such peculiar circumstances, 
by the Brighton fisherman, Maskell, had the effect of causing 
thousands from day to day to visit, not only the plantation, 
but also the pretty and sweet Auburn-like village of Preston, 
adjoining Brighton. Subsequently, the other portions of 
the remains were found in a cesspool common to four or 
five houses in Margaret Street, in one of which Holloway 
had resided ; and, when the whole were placed together by 
the surgeon, they were identified, not only by Celia Hol- 
loway's sister, but also by several of the neighbours. 

The examinations before the magistrates and the charging 
the prisoner's paramour, Ann Kennett, as an accomplice, 
tended very materially to keep up the excitement, and even 
after the two prisoners were committed for trial, new and 
sensational statements continued to crop up ; and, in the 
absence of any fresh and authentic news on the all-absorbing 
topic, there were plenty of manufactured tales afloat on the 
subject, and we are credibly informed that there were 
several " Cocks " — i.e., Catchpennies, sold about the streets 
of Brighton, Horsham, and Lewes. The following piece of 
doggerel was published by Catnach, who sent tAvo first-class 
patterers down to the scene of the circumstance, where they 
lived from August until the December following, receiving, 
almost weekly, fresh supplies of street-papers. While many 
others of the same stamp were printed at Brighton by 
Phillips, the local Catnach, at that i)eriod carrying on busi- 
ness at 9, Poi>lar Place, Meeting House Lane. 


Lamentation and Confession 



Who now lies in Horsham Gaol, awaiting his Trial for 

THE Cruel Murder of his Wife, 


YOU tender-hearted Christians, I pray you now draw near, 
And listen unto these few lines you quickly soon shall hear ; 
My name it is John Holloway, the truth I will unfold, 
And when I think on what I 've done it makes my blood run cold. 

In Donkey Row I took a house, and there enticed my wife, 
'Twas there by strangulation I took away her life ; 
An innocent babe all in her womb I murdered with my wife. 
In pieces then I cut her up all with my bloody knife. 

J A MES CA 7 :VA CI I. zyi 

When I cut the body up — Oh ! what a shocking sight 
Then on a barrow I wheel'd her to Preston in the night ; 
Her head and arms, her legs and thighs, from her body I cut off. 
Two thighs with her body I then buried in the Lover's Walk. 

John Gillam, a fisherman belonging to Brighton town, 

And a constable from Preston soon the body found ; 

Oh ! when the body was dug up, what a shocking sight to see. 

Her head and arms, her legs and thighs, were cut from her body. 

And when the body was dug up some thousands flocked around, 
Then my wife's sister came and swore to her new stays and gown ; 
Then taken was Ann Kennett, and put in close confined, 
And out of Brighton I did go, trying to ease my mind. 

When back to Brighton I returned, thinking it was all right. 
But the God above was watching me and brought the deed to light, 
Then taken was John Holloway and put in close confine — 
I am the wretched murderer, and must answer for my crime. 

In these dark cells of Horsham gaol I cry both day and night. 
For the bleeding corpse of my poor wife is always in my sight : 
When I hope her soul is in heaven at rest when tormented I shall be, 
I deserve nothing but the Burning Flames for my sad cruelty. 

Now young and old, pray beware of my unhappy fate. 
Pray let your Parsons comfort you before it is too late ; 
Hark ! hark ! I hear the dismal bell, how harsh it tolls — 
May the Lord have mercy on me and all poor unhappy souls ! 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 

From day to daj^ the copse in Lover's Walk, where 
the mutilated body was found, became a great object of 
attraction. The Chain Pier, the Devil's Dyke, then kept 
by Mr. Peter Berkshire, and all the customary places of 
resort were forsaken, and hundreds were seen wending their 
steps towards the copse, to obtain a view of the unconse- 
crated grave of the unfortunate Celia. Branches of the 
trees which overhung it were broken off, and carried away 
with the same enthusiasm as a pilgrim would bear away a 
relic of the Cross from the Holy Land. On the surrounding 
trees the name of Holloway was carved in every direction ; 



himself suspended on a gallows, and in some instances 
accompanied by epithets too coarse and indecent to be 
inserted. It is not to be here supposed that the Brighton 
])oets could lose sight of so favourable an opportunity of 
disi)laying their poetical abilities. Thus on one tree might 
be read — 

Here lay poor Celia, 
Curses be on HoUoway, 
He 'II wish himself away 
On the great judgment day. 
On another 

Here lay a wife, a mother, and a child, 
D — — n him who placed them in a place in so wild. 
Even the witling could not allow so grave a subject to 
escape him without exercising his talent upon it, and thus 
on one tree was cut — 

Women are bad — not so was Celia dead ; 
You "11 ask me why — Celia wants her head. 
We here insert an engraving of the interior and exterior 
of the house in Donkey Row where the fatal act was com- 
mitted, and the cupboard in which Ann Kennett was 
concealed is that under the stairs, where the chaff on the 
floor and the head on the shelf are represented. 



The Brighton magistrates committed Holloway and his 
paramour to take their trial, at the Lewes Assizes, which were 
held on Wednesday, December 14th, before Mr. Justice 
Pattieon, when the jury found Holloway guilty, but acquitted 
the female prisoner. The execution took place at Horsham, 
on December i6th, 1831, thus described in a local print — 

Long before day-break on Friday morning, a number of people, 
many on foot, went from Brighton to Horsham, a distance of 22 miles, 
to see the last of the murderer, Holloway. The morning was exceed- 
ingly bright, and on the road, from an early hour till twelve o'clock, 
were seen a great many country people going towards the place of 
execution. At about half-past eleven o'clock, the under-sheriff and his 
officers arrived, by which time the cro\\d had greatly increased, 
amounting probably to 2,000 persons. Among those who came to 
witness the scene were the two sisters and brother of the murdered 
Celia Holloway ; the fonner requested permission to see Holloway, 
but in consequence of some levity of conduct were refused admittance. 
Tliey remained, however, till the drop fell. 

As early as four o'clock in the morning Holloway had again been 
visited by the chaplain (the Rev. Mr. Withcrliy) who continued his pious 
exertions till within a short time of the culprit being led forth to be 
pinioned. The exhortations of the rev. gentleman worked a visible 


change in Holloway, who prayed fervently and loud. His reckless 
spirit was evidently subdued, and he listened attentively to his spiritual 
instructor and responded to his exhortations, ejaculating, repeatedly, 
" May the Lord have mercy on my soul," " Thou hast paid the debt." 
A person named Nute, was also with him for twelve hours previous to 
his execution. The mother of the wretched culprit was also present, 
and Mr. Robert Huish, a literary gentleman, engaged by Mr. Alderman 
Kelly, the great "number-book" trade publisher, of London, to collect 
materials for the Life, Trial, and Execution of Holloway. Mr. Nute, the 
Ranter and local agent for the sale of Kelly's publications, who 
improved the occasion of the execution by doing a little preaching and 
bookselling on his own account, was on the drop when Holloway was 
turned off. 

The hour had now arrived, and Holloway manifested no reluctance 
when the turnkey came for him. At ten minutes before twelve o'clock 
the culprit left his cell, accompanied by Mr. Nute and the gaoler, and 
walked with a firm step through the yard into the kitchen, 'where about 
twenty persons, namely : sheriffs, officers, reporters, &c. , were waiting. 
The executioner was also at hand, ready to pinion him. Holloway 
appeared in a blue jacket and waistcoat, brown trousers, and low shoes. 
His hair was rough. Before him he carried a Bible. He regarded 
those around him with silent attention, and they in turn silently fixed 
their eyes upon him. The executioner beckoned him to advance. For 
a moment he cast a hurried glance towards Mr. Nute, and, turning 
round, caught hold of his hand, which he squeezed apparently in 
agonizing despair. Still holding the Bible, he followed the executioner, 
when the latter rather unceremoniously went up to him and took ofif his 
handkerchief, which, as usual, he was about to thrust into the culprit's 
bosom, when Holloway said, " No ! no ! keep it. " The executioner 
then motioned him to advance into the press-room, where the 
implements for pinioning were prepared. Holloway had several times 
previously kissed the Bible, exclaiming repeatedly, " Blessed Word ! " 
Mr. Nute asked him if he died in peace with all men. He replied, 
'* I do die in peace ; no one has injured me ; if they have, I forgive 
them. I die justly ; to Thee I commend my soul ; Lord support me ; 
Thou hast paid the debt ; Lord, receive my spirit !" The last sentence 
he repeated four times with solemn earnestness. Mr. Nute asked him 
one or two other questions, namely, whether he felt that God had 
forgiven him his sins ; and whether he found God Almighty ready to 
save; to which he replied, "Yes, yes." Holloway then fell upon his 
knees on the rugged floor, and oftered up a prayer to Heaven. He said, " 
"Be with me at this moment, Lord God of Heaven. Through the 


merits of a merciful Saviour, I hope for mercy." The culprit had to 
wait two or three minutes after being pinioned before the necessary 
arrangements were completed, during which time he said to the 
executioner, " Mind, you have promised that I shall have time to speak ; 
and the executioner replied, "You shall!" The chaplain then ap- 
proached ; the massive bolts were withdrawn, and the great doors were 
thrown open. The assembled multitude gazed with eager curiosity on 
the awful procession. 

The chaplain then walked towards the scaffold, reading the burial 
service; and the culprit followed with a firm and quick step, praying 
as he advanced. He ascended the steps of the drop rather quickly, and 
placed himself immediately under the fatal rope. The executioner then 
proceeded to put on the cap, and make fast the rope about the culprit's 
p.' ck. While he was doing this, Ilolloway said in a low whisper, 
'• c'.ive me a good fall," and the executioner, in consequence, gave him 
rather more than the usual length of rope for the fall. Holloway then 
knelt down and prayed fervently for about half-a-minute, repeatedly 

Hing on the Lord to receive his spirit. When he arose, he advanced 
lenly to address the crowd, which he did in the following terms : — 

My dear friends, I need not tell you that sin brought me to this 
untimely end, and I would entreat you to be aware that he who follows 
a life of sin is as likely to be brought to the same condition ; I tell you, 
if you trifle with sin and foil}', you know not where it will end. I justly 
suffer : I have spilt innocent blood, but I hope God will have mercy 
upon me ; He has said to those who repent, 'All your sins and blasphe- 
mies shall be forgiven you.' Therefore, turn from sin, and the Lord 
will show you forgiveness. All I have to say is, take warning by my 
unhappy fate, and if you prize life, sin not. Reflect on my dying words, 
for in a very short time the eye that sees you now will see you no more, 
and in a few short years you will all be in eternity. Now, may the 
Lord bless you and keep you from sin, by which I am brought to this 
untimely end ; and may the God of Mercy, through Jesus Christ, 
receive my spirit." 

These words were spoken in a rapid, firm, and audible voice ; and, 
as he went on, Holloway gradually rose to so high a tone that he might 
have been heard at a great distance. He then stepped back ; the 
executioner drew the cap over his eyes ; and the chaplain continued to 
pray, concluding with the Lord's Prayer, during which Holloway, with 
great solemnity, repeatedly ejaculated, " Lord receive my spirit ! " until 
the signal, when the bolt was withdrawn and the wretched culprit's life 
was at an end. He appeared to suffer Init little. There was no 
manifestation of feeling in the crowd, nor could we perceive any tokens 
of commiseration. 


The subjoined incident is illustrative of a popular 
superstition regarding the bodies of murderers — 

About a quarter of an hour after Holloway was turned off, a 
countryman, who was said to come from Cowfold, bargained with the 
hangman to have his wen rubbed by the hands of the deceased. The 
superstitious fellow mounted the scaffold with the hangman, who untied 
the rope which bound Holloway 's wrist, and placed the hands of the 
deceased on the forehead of the countryman, who sat trembling in that 
position upwards of five minutes. The executioner then took the man's 
handkerchief from his neck and thrust it into Holloway's bosom, till he 
had made it warm by the heat of the body, and then put it to the wen ; 
the man dismounted, and held the handkerchief to it for several minutes, 
at the same time expressing his "faith" in the remedy. This scene 
excited the disgust of every one present, and when two women advanced 
for a similar purpose, the undersheriff refused to permit it, and ordered 
them away. 

After the body had hung the usual time, the executioner 
lowered it into the hands of the turnkey beneath. They 
then carried it into the press-room, where it was stripped, 
and for a few minutes lay exposed. A young phrenologist 
was present, who examined the head for scientific purposes, 
and several casts were taken of the features. The rope 
with which Holloway had been hung was purchased of the 
executioner by some person from Lewes, for half-a-crown. 
The body was then given over to Mr. Lawrence, for the 
County Hospital; Mr. Lawrence, jun., with Pplice Superin- 
tendent Penfold, and one or two others from Brighton, 
arrived with a chariot containing a large trunk, to convey 
the body to that place. By this time the crowd had dis- 
persed, and there were scarcely twenty persons present 
when the party drove off to Brighton. 

On the following day the body of the murderer Holloway 
was exposed to public gaze in the magistrates' room at the^ 
Town Hall, and so great was the curiosity of the public] 
that it is calculated upwards of 23,000 persons were admit- 
ted in the course of the day, from ten in the morning till aj 


little after four o'clock in the afternoon. The body was 
subsequently removed to the County Hospital, where on 
Monday morning the dissection was commenced by Mr. 
Lawrence and Mr. Taylor. The skeleton, properly adjusted, 
is now in the museum in connection with the Brighton and 
Sussex County Hospital. 

Ann Kennett, HoUoway's paramour, having been acquitted 
on the capital charge, was subsequently indicted at the 
Lewes Assizes, in March, 1832, for "concealing and 
harbouring" Holloway, in other words, of assisting him 
in the commission of the crime he committed, but the jury 
returned a verdict of Not Guilty. 

During the many solitary hours which Holloway passed 
in the gloom of his prison, he frequently amused himself 
with writing poetical epistles to Ann Kennett, one of which 
we subjoin as characteristic of the man, and indicative of 
the strong affection which he bore for that woman. We 
have retained his own orthography, as illustrative of his 
style of writing, and his skill in the art of tagging rhymes. 

MY dearest life when this you see 
pray look and read and think on me 
who gladly gives my life to screane 
my darling from the smalest paine 
pray love my Child and fondle over 
that as you have done hits father 
I know that you have loved me so 
you have sacrificed your peace for woe 
then can I you sweat love look cooly on 
the life that I myselfe undone 
that action I for ever scorn 
I love the ground that you walk on 
that lovly babe of myne when bornd 
early teach it to love and fear the Lord, 
and may we all in glory meet 
to praise Immanuel at his feet 
O could I be alowed that pleasure 
to live to see my darling treasure 

R 2 


that lovly babe my flesh and blood 
let it be taught to serve its God. 
may your love for me my dearest wife 
be as mjTie is to you true thoough life 
was I to live and you to die 

1 never would marry wilse time doeth flye 
I would be true below my love 
thought your spirit be goane above 

and look forward to the time when we 

shall meet againe in unity 

for if your love you to another give 

how can you love me while you live 

but now I leave you to your choice 

and hope that you regard my joice 

you cannot love two men together 

for if you love the one you must forget the other 

and as through life we have boath loved so truely 

let your love be fixed on me and not on cash or beuty 

could I know a nouther would know you 

I nere could let you live to proove untrue 

O do not proove untrue proove faithful Ann 

and I shall die in peace mth God and man 

An individual, passing under the name of Eliza Edwards, 
died on the i8th of January, 1832, in Union Court, Orchard 
Street, Westminster. There were no claimants for the body, 
which was therefore taken for dissection to Guy's Hospital, 
under the Anatomy Act. There, to the astonishment of all, 
the body was discovered to be that of a man. The principal 
Secretary of State (with very bad taste) ordered a public 
investigation. The jury visited St. Margaret's workhouse, 
where the body lay. It appeared that of a youth of seven- 
teen, very effeminate, the whiskers having been plucked out 
by tweezers, and the chin without a beard. Dr. Clutterbuck 
proved that he visited the deceased as his patient. Miss 
Edwards, and had no idea of her being a man. Maria 
Edwards said she was sister to the deceased ; they had 
constantly lived together for ten years, and only knew 
each other as sisters. The deceased was an actress ; had 


played in the country — last at Leatlierhead ; had been three 
years in London, living less reputably. She had been visited 
and kept by several men; but she died in great distress, and 
had received a small relief from the parish. Miss Edwards 
was introduced to the stage by Tahna; had acted under the 
name of Walstein, and i>layed the first characters in Tragedy., 
Mary Mortimer had known the deceased for eleven years, 
and never suspected her sex. She appeared a most lady- 
like woman ; witness saw her act at Nonvich. The body 
was satisfactorily identified, and the jury adjourned. On 
Thursday the jury met again and received further evidence. 
The room was ordered to be cleared of strangers, but this 
was found impossible; the jury retired to an adjoining room, 
and, after a few minutes' consultation, the verdict was re- 
turned — "That the deceased died by visitation of God; and, 
in returning this verdict, the jury are compelled to express 
their horror at the conduct of the deceased, and strongly 
recommend to the proper authorities that some means may 
be adopted for the disposal of the body, which will mark 
the ignominy of that conduct." 

The above scandal created a great sensation in the metro- 
polis at the time, and afforded a golden opportunity to all 
connected with street-literature to captivate the masses by 
their effusions, both in prose and verse. 

Street-ballads on political subjects, though not regarded 
as of great interest by the whole body of the people, are* still 
eventful among certain classes, and for such the street author 
and ballad singer cater. The measure of Reform by Earl 
Grey's administration, was proposed in the House of 
Conlmons by Lord John Russell, ist March, 1831. On the 
first division, second x^zjdiAng, 22nd March, there stood for it, 
302; against it, 301. Ultimately, the Bill for that session 
was abandoned, and Parliament dissolved. The Reform 
Bill of 1832 was read for the third time on the 23rd of March, 
when the numbers stood thus : — for the Bill, 355 ; against it. 


239 — majority for it, 1 1 6. In the Lords, the Bill was carried 
through the Committee on the 30th of May, and read a third 
time on the 4th of June. For the Bill, 106; against, 22 
— majority, 84. Received the Royal Assent, 7th of 
June, 1832. 

The Reform Bill. 

As William and Bill are the same, 

Our King, if he " weathers the storm," 

Shall be called in the annals of fame, 
The Glorious BILL of Reform ! 

During the whole of the time the Reform Bills of 183 1-2 
were before the Houses of Parliament, the " Catnach Press," 
in common with other printing offices that produced street- 
literature, was very busy in publishing, almost daily, songs 
and papers in ridicule of borough-mongering and of the 
various rotten boroughs then in existence, but which were 
entirely swept away by the passing of this Bill ; fifty-six 
boroughs in England being disfranchised, while thirty were 
reduced to one member only ; twenty-two new boroughs 
were created to send two members, and twenty to send one 
member ; other important changes were also made. Songs 
upon the subject were sung at every corner of the streets, to 
the great delight of the multitude. 

" Little Johnny, bless the darling boy, 
Loves Reform ! Reform ! 
Long time he has nursed his favourite toy. 
Reform ! Reform ! " 



Tune. — ^^ All Nodding, uid, nid, A'odding." 

YOU heroes of England draw near awhile, 
The Isle of Great Britain will ne'er fail to smile, 
Fur William and his Ministers will never look with sconi, 
They are every one determin'd to struggle for Reform. 

And they are all conversing about Parliament Reform. 

Pray what do you think of William and his Queen ? 
A better in Great Britain there never can be seen, 
' iiquered by the Tories, they '11 never be, we 're told, 
• V the rights of the people they '11 fight like heroes bold. 

And they're all struggling to obtain the nation's rights. 

What do you think of brave Russell, Brougham, and Grey, 
They have boldly beat the Tories now they have got fair play, 
To fight for your liberties they eager do resolve. 
And his Majesty on Friday last did Parliament dissolve. 

And they 'rte all trembling, they 'M not get in again. do you think of the Blacking man, of Wilson, and others? 

Why like a set of turn-coats they '11 go to h like brothers 

Into the House of Commons they will never go again, 

Tiicy may cry and pray, lord ! lack-a-day, it will surely be in vain. 

And they 're all lamenting because their seats they must resign. 

What do you think of Hobhouse and Sir Frank ? 
I think they're men of honour, and can play a pretty prank. 
They've done the best you must allow to crush a desperate evil, 
While Blacking men and Soldiers both will ramble to the Devil. 
And they 're all conversing about Parliament Reform. 


What do you think of the agitator Dan ? 
For the rights of Great Britain he stuck up like a man. 
The state of the nation he told the Tories blunt, 

And if I may be believ'd, he 's not deceived, like foolish Harry Hunt. 
And they 're all conversing about Parliament Reform. 

What do you think of Waithman and of Wood ? 

They 've done their best endeavours to do the people good. 

They stuck to William and his Ministers, rumours could not be afloat, 

That they like many others will never turn their coat. 

So ysQ 're all rejoicing the Dissolution's taken place. 

What do you think of the Rat-catcher Bob ? 

I think he had a sneaking to get into a job, 

Along with the old Soldier, but mark what I do say, 

The King will never part with Russell, Brougham, or Grey. 

So they 're all praying, the Tories are praying for the death of 
all the three. 

Now what do you think about the Dissolution ? 

If William had not closed the House, there 'd have been a revolution. 
In every part of England there 's been some funny stories ; 
So success to Russell and to Grey, the Devil take the Tories, . 
Who are all lamenting the places they have lost. 

Pray what do you think of the Borough-mongers now ? 
Each day and every hour they 've been kicking up a row. 
They've endeavoured the whole nation to fill with discontent, 
But they never more will have a chance to get into Parliament. 
So they 're all lamenting because they are turned out. 

I 'm certain every Briton owns it was to gain their right 
King William and his Ministers did so boldly fight ; 
Turn-coats, Borough-mongers, and Tories you will see 
King William take by the heels and drown them in the sea. 
So we 're all laughing at the Borough-mongers' fall. 

Here 's a health to King William and his Ministere so true. 
We are certain they will never flinch, their courage is True Blue ; 
Turn-coats, Borough-mongers, and Tories too may gnint. 
But the Devil will drive them in a van, with Wilson and with Hunt. 
And they 're all lamenting. 

rrinted by T. BIRT, No. 39, tircat St. Andicw Street, Seven Dials 



On Tuesday, the iqth of June, 1832. 

The Ascot Races for 1S32 will be rendered memorable in 
the history of this country by reason of a stone thrown at 
his Majesty while on the grand stand at Ascot Races, which 
hit him on the forehead. The man by whom it was thrown 
was immediately secured, and proved to be Denis Collins, 
a seaman with only one leg, formerly a pensioner of Green- 
wich Hospital, from whence he had been dismissed for ill- 
conduct. On his examination he confessed he committed 
the outrage in revenge because no notice had been taken of 
petitions which he had sent to the Lords of the Admiralty 
and the King. He was committed to Reading gaol to take 
his trial, which took place at Abingdon, on August 22nd. 
The jury returned a verdict of guilty on the fifth count, that 


of intending some bodily harm to his Majesty, but not guilty 
of the intent to kill. 

Mr. Baron Gurney passed sentence on the prisoner, that 
he be drawn on a hurdle to the place of execution, and being 
hung by his neck until dead, his head be afterwards severed 
from his body, and his body divided into four pieces, and 
disposed of as his Majesty should think fit. His sentence 
was afterwards respited. 

Nothing better than the above circumstance could have 
suited the producers and workers of street-literature. King 
William and Queen Adelaide were very popular at the time. 
" Yes, sir, we all did well out of that job of the wooden-legged 
sailor and old King Billy. It lasted out for months. We 
had something fresh nearly every day. We killed old Billy 
five or six times ; then we made out that the sailor-chap was 
a love-child of the Sailor- King and Madame Vestris ; then, 
that he was an old sweetheart of Queen Adelaide's, and that 
he was jealous and annoyed at her a-jilting of him and 
a-marrying of old King Billy, and so on. But it was an 
awful sell, and a robbery to us all, because they didn't hang 
and cut the chap up into four quarters — that would have 
been a regular Godsend to us chaps, sir. But I think old 
Jemmy Catnach, as it was, must have cleared pretty nigh 
or quite a fifty pounds for himself out of the job. A-talking 
about Madame Vestris, sir, reminds me that once we had a 
song about lier, and the chorus was : — 

" 'A hundred pounds reward 
For the man that cut the legs above the knees 
Belonging to Madame Vestris.'" 


Thk Crown and Hokse Shoes Inn, Enfield Chase Side. 

On Thursday, December 20, 1832, information was given 
at the various metropolitan police-offices of a horrible mur- 
der, committed near the pleasant little village of Enfield, 
which is situate about ten miles from town. It api)ears 
that a little boy, named Ellis, was going from Enfield Chase 
towards Enfield town, down Holt-White's-Lane, when he 
observed something in the ditch, which appeared to him a 
human body. He called to a man, named Wheeler, who 
was going to his work at a farm, occupied by Mr. Poiser, 
who went with him to the edge of the ditch, in which they 
found the body of a man. The face was in the ditch, but 
on turning the body face upwards, a most av/ful and horrible 
sight presented itself. The face was cut and slashed in a 
most dreadful manner ; the flesh was scored out, as it 
were in five places, and the right whisker cut away ; and in 
the throat of the murdered man there was a deep stab, 
right through, as a butcher would kill a sheep, and as if the 
knife had been turned round in the throat. 'I'hc body 


was instantly recognised as that of a young man, named 
Benjamin Crouch Danby, about twenty-seven years of age, 
and the son of the late Mr. Danby, the well-known forensic 
wig-maker, of the Temple. When very young he adopted 
the seafaring profession, and had only just returned from a 
long voyage. On landing he started off at once to Mr. 
Addington, a master baker, of Enfield, who was a near 
relation. He met with a very kind reception, and his joyous 
spirits, and free, sailor-like manner, attracted the notice of 
the inhabitants. He appeared to enjoy himself, and s])ent 
his money with great freedom. On Wednesday afternoon, 
about four o'clock, he left Mr. Addington's house, promising 
to return at ten at night, but he did not make his ajjpear- 
ance at the time specified. This created alarm, and Mr. 
Addington was out until a late hour in search of him. The 
next morning the family received intelligence of the situation 
in which the unfortunate man had been discovered. Speedy 
inquiries were set on foot, and it soon transpired that the 
deceased had been displaying his money, treating the com- 
pany, drinking freely, tossing for liquor, and later in the 
evening playing at do;i'iinoes at the Crown and Horse Shoes 
inn, situate by the side of the New River, and near Chase-side. 

Charles Lamu's Ilousii at Enfield 


It SO happened that on the day of the murder Charles 
Lamb, the celebrated English essayist, who, with his 
demented sister Mary, was then residing in a pleasantly 
situated house* at Enfield Chase-side, had received a visit 
from some friends living at Edmonton, distant three miles. 
In the afternoon Charles accompanied them part of the way 
home, and on his return journey strolled into the Crown 
and Horse Shoes inn, then kept by one Joseph Perry, and 
called for some refreshment. And if the truth must be 
spoken, Charles Lamb was very fond of " a drop of good 
beer," and a roadside hostel where he could at once unbend 
himself, study English character in its working attire, moisten 
his discourse and his clay from unsophisticated pewter, and 
hum : — 

" Charley loves good ale and wine, 
Charley loves good brandy, 
Charley loves a pot and pipe 
As children sugar candy." 

For each host or hostess Charles Lamb had his salutation, 
his joke, or his lamb-pun ! and was an honoured and familiar 
guest, and well known as the " funny little old gentleman 
in black " at nearly all the humble and wayside " Pubs " in 
and about the Green Lanes and ways between Enfield and 
Edmonton, Southgate, South Lodge, Trent Place, Potter's 
Bar, and Waltham Cross, wherein he could take his leisure 

* Lamb, writing to Thomas Hood, the poet, Tuesday, September 
18, 1S27, says : — 

" Dear Hood, — » » * — q^^ ^^.^ domicile is no 
manor-house ; but new, and extemally not inviting, but furnish'd 
within with every convenience : capital new locks to every door, capital 
grates to every room ; with nothing to pay for incoming ; and the rent 
^10 less than the Islington one. It was built, a few years since, at 
£1, 100 expense, they tell me — and I perfectly lielieve it. And I get it 
for ;^35, exclusive of moderate taxes. We think ourselves most lucky." 


at his pleasure and realize to the fullest extent Shenston's 
lines on an inn : — 

"Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, 
Where'er his stages may have been, , 
May sigh to think he still has found 
The warmest welcome at an inn." 

That Charles Lamb drank freely, can be no matter- of 
question. " This failing," says one of his biographers, " has 
often been greatly exaggerated, but there is no doubt it 
existed. The fact seems to be that he had a constitutional 
craving for exhilarating drinks, and the relief they gave him 
from the dreadful anxiety and depression caused by his 
sister's precarious health and often recurring illness, tempted 
him to indulge in them to an extent which — while it would 
have been moderation to a stronger man — to his delicate 
and sensitive organization was excess. It was not the mere 
excitement of drinking that fascinated him : it was the 
relaxation, the forgetfulness of care, the confidence, the 
ready flow of words to embody the conceptions of his ever- 
fruitful fancy, that gave an almost irresistible charm — to 
porter in bright pewter pots at wayside inns, and to brandy, 
with or without water, at home." He wrote in his Essay 
" On the Artificial Comedy of the last Century " :— 

" I confess for myself that — -with no great delinquencies to answer for 
— I am for a season to take an airing beyond the diocese of the strict 
conscience, — not to live always in the precincts of the law-courts, — but 
now and then, for a dream-while or so, to imagine a world with no 
meddling restrictions — to get into recesses whither the hunter cannot 
follow me — 

Secret shades 

Of woody Ida's inmost grove 

While yet there was no fear of Jove. 
I come back to my cage and my restraint the fresher and more healthy 
for it. I wear my shackles more contentedly for having respired the 
breath of an imaginary freedom. I do not know how it is with others, 

JAMES CA 'IN A C//. 25 5 

but I feel the better always for a pemsal of one of Congrevc's — nay, 
w liy should I not add even of Wycherley's ? — Comedies, I am tlic 
gayer at least for it." 

At one time I.amb and his sister resolved to give up 
alcoholic drinks altogether. " As for Mary," he informed 
Miss Wordsworth, "she has taken to water like a hungry 
otter. I, too, limp after her in lame imitation, but it goes 
against me a little at first. I have been an acquaintance 
with it now for full four days, and it seems a moon. I 
am full of cramps and rheumatisms, and cold internally, so 
that fire won't warm me ; yet I bear all for virtue's sake." 
Total abstinence plainly did not agree with him, and was 
soon given up.* 

Now, as before mentioned, on this particular occasion — 
viz., Wednesday, the 19th December, 1832, Charles Lamb 
finished his early afternoon walk by a visit to the Crown and 
Horse Shoes inn; after awhile he got into conversation — for 
rom])any's sake — with the persons there assembled, who, 
like himself, were drinking and enjoying tlunnselves after 
tlieir own manner. At length the mirth, like the company, 
getting a little too fast and furious, Lamb, who was well 
known to the landlord as a customer and a near neighbour, 
paid his reckoning and went atvay as straight as he con- 
veniently could, under existing circumstances, to his sister 
Mary, who is said to have kept too jealous ward over him, 
and was a little too severe upon his peccadilloes in this 
direction ; so much so that there were times when he was 
glad to escape from her peevish temperament and seek 
retirement and forgetfulness in the village or wayside 
alehouses of the surrounding neighbourhood. ^ 

The following morning the Enfield constables. Mead and 
Watkins, were on the alert, and, "from information received," 

* A Biographical Essay on Elia, by H. S., Bell and Daldy, Fleet 
Street, 1867. 


apprehended John Cooper, the son of a poor man in the 
town, Samuel Sleath, alias Fare, WiUiam Johnson, the son 
of a gardener of that name in Enfield, on suspicion of being 
the murderers of Mr. Benjaman C. Danby, and, in conse- 
quence of being seen in their company on the previous 
evening at the Crown and Horse Shoes, the — the — the gentle- 
minded and genial-hearted Charles Lamb — the distinguished 
author of " Essays of Elia," and intimate friend and com- 
panion of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Hazlitt, Leigh Hunt, 
Godwin, Talfourd, Thelwall, and a host of other literary 
men of the day — as being an accomplice/ 

The parties thus charged were taken before Mr. Cresswell, 
a magistrate in the neighbourhood, when, after a long private 
examination, the three first-named men were remanded to 
await the result of the Coroner's inquest. The matter, of 
course as regarded Charles Lamb, was soon explained, and 
he was at once set at liberty. 

The Coroner, and a jury composed of the most respect- 
. able inhabitants of Enfield, were engaged from six on 
Thursday night to one on Friday morning. The inquest 
was then adjourned till the evening ; and so interesting were 
the circumstances brought before their notice, that they 
would have continued the inquiry to a later hour, had it not 
been for the sudden illness of the foreman, brought on by 
exhaustion. Under such circumstances the inquest was 
adjourned to the following Monday morning. The inquiry 
was held at the sign of the Old Serjeant (since demolished), 
in Parsonage Lane, Enfield, before Henry Sa^^^er, Esq., 
Coroner for the Duchy of Lancaster, in the jurisdiction of 
which Enfield Wash is situated. The jury returned a verdict 
— " That Benjamin Crouch Danby was wilfully murdered 
by William Johnson, and John Cooper, at or about 
midnight of Wednesday, December the 19th, and that 
Samuel Fare aided and assisted in the commission of the 


At the Old Bailey Sessions, held January 4, 1833, Williant 
Johnson and Samuel Fare were arraigned on two indict- 
ments. The first, charging Johnson with the murder of 
Benjamin Crouch Danby, and Fare as an accessory : the 
>ccond, charging both prisoners with robbing Danby. John 
Cooper — the greatest delinquent — was admitted as an 
.i|iprover. Johnson was found guilty of the murder, and 
lure with robbing the deceased of a tobacco-pii)e bowl, 
(if peculiar form, which he used for measuring shot, and 
eleven shillings. Johnson was executed January 7. The 
" Lamentation and Confessional Verses," j^rinted and 
jnib — lish — ^ed on the occasion, informed the inibllc that 
Johnson was a diabolical murderer, and of the deei)est dye, 
and, in reference to the victim, that : — 

" This young man he was a sailor, 

And just returned from sea, 
And down to Enfield Chase he went 

His cousin for to see ; 
Little thinking that ere night — 

Would prove his destiny." 

The lane or road in which the atrocious murder took 
jilace is called Batches Road, but is better known as Holt- 
A\hite's-Lane, and leads from Enfield to Barnet. Since the 
dreadful occurrence, the site has been well preserved to the 
present date. Immediately opposite where the body was 
found was an oak tree, on which Mr. Richard C. Farr, then 
carrying on business as a builder in Enfield, cut out with a 
set of chisels on the morning of the discovery of the murder 
the following : — 



Dec. 19th, 



' Only the stump of that tree now remains : a few years 
ago the body was cut down just below the inscription, but 
the mark of the spot where the murdered man laid is still 
kept fresh to the view."* 

House at Edmonton where Charles Lamb died. 

About Midsummer of 1833, Charles Lamb and his sister 
gave up their lodgings at Enfield and removed to Bay 
Cottage, Church Street, Edmonton, kept by Mr. Walden, 
whose wife acted as a professional nurse. Lamb's death 

* In June, 1877, in company with Mr. R. L. F.irr, Photographer, 
Raleigh Road, Enfield, and Mr. Richard Searle, blacksmith, a very 
old and respected inhabitant, we visited Enfield ; and our thanks being 
due, are hereby given to those two gentlemen for their kindness in 
showing us all the places in and about the good old towi that had any 
reference to the murder of B. C. Danby, and to the walks and haunts 
of Charles Lamb, the author of "Essays of Elia." We have also 
been in communication with the Rev. H. G. Hodson, M.A., Vicar of 
Enfield. Ex nihilo niliil fit. 


was the consequence of what at first was thought but* a 
slight accident. He stumbled against a stone when returning 
home one afternoon from a visit to the Bell, at Edmonton 
— the Bell, from which Mrs. John Gilpin witnessed her 
husband ride by — and fell, very much injuring his nose and 
face, thereby getting the gnivt-l-ras/i .'* He was immediately 
picked up by Mr. Robert Gosset, still carrying on the 
business of an auctioneer and surveyor, who, with the 
assistance of two others passing at the time, conveyed Lamb 
to his residence ; in a few days erysipelas set in, and the 
result was fatal. 

Edmonton Church. 

Charles Lamb lies buried in Edmonton churchyard : over 
his grave is i)laced an ordinary — very ordinary — grave-stone, 
on which is inscribed the following cock-and-bull-yarn by 
Mr. Henry Francis Gary — " Dante Gary." It is a pity one 

* Gr.wki. Rash, a scratched face,— telling its tale of a drunken 
fall. A person sul)ject to this is called a Gkavkl Gki.ndkr, 

" HottenV Slanj^ Dictionary " 

S 2 


of the Seven Poets of the Seven Dials was not employed 
for the Job I But, however, " Its never too late to mend." 
A proposal for erecting a more suitable monument, and 
setting the grave in order, was announced a few years ago. 
Is it not time that something in that way was done ? Our 
mite is ready on application. 



Died 27th Dec- 1834, Aged 59. 

Fareivell dear friend. That smile, that harmless viirih. 

No vtore shall gladden our domestic hearth ; 

That rising tear, with pain forbid to flow. 

Better than zvords, no more assuage our woe ; 

That hand outstretched, from small but well-earned store. 

Yields succour to the destitute no more. 

Yet art'thou not all lost ; Thro' many an age 

With sterling sense and hutnotir shall thy page 

Win many an English bosom, pleased to see 

That old and happier vein re7nved in thee. ^ 

This for our earth, and if with friends we share 

Our joys in heaven, we hope to meet thee there. 



Born 3rd Dec- 1767. Died 20th IMay, 1847. 

Furthermore, the gravestone is made to perpetuate tlie 
name — a most unusual circumstance — -of the Sexton of the 
parish, who has cut on the edge of the stone, thus : — 

H I O R N S, 


J.lMl.S L\\ I \.\CU. 21)1 

On May 30th, 1S33, a prize-fight took place between 
Simon Byrne and Deaf Burke, in which the former was 
killed. The fight lasted three hours and six minutes, and 
extended to ninety-nine rounds. Burke was the victor, and 
the unfortunate Simon Byrne was conveyed, in a state of 
complete exhaustion, to the Woolpack inn, St. Alban's. 
Medical assistance was immediately called in ; but at twenty 
minutes past eight on Sunday he breathed his last. He was 
about thirty-two years of age, and left a wife and four 
children. The Coroner's jury recorded the following verdict : 
" Manslaughter against Deaf Burke, ]irincipal in the first 
degree, and Thomas Spring, James Ward, Richard Curtis, 
and Thomas Gaynor, as seconds ; also against the umj^ire 
or um])ires, referee or referees, and the time-keeper, all 
then and there aiding and abetting, whose names are un- 
known to us, as principals in the second degree." On the 
nth of July, James Burke, better known as Deaf Burke, 
and Richard Curtis, having surrendered themselves, were 
tried for manslaughter. The indictment charged Burke 
with having inflicted divers mortal bruises, in a pugilistic 
contest at No Man's Land, on Simon Byrne, whereof death 
ensued ; and Richard Curtis, with having aided and abetted 
him in the felony by acting as his second. Evidence was 
])roduced to show that the deceased a})peared to have a 
former disease on the lungs, and that there was no external 
injury answering to the internal appearances which could 
have caused death. Mr. Justice Park, after hearing this 
statement, addressed the jury and said, " Gentlemen, that 
makes an end of the case ; the prisoners must be acquitted." 
Sj)ring, Ward, and Gaynor immediately surrendered, but no 
evidence being offered against them, they were found " Not 



MOURN, Erin's sons, your hero brave ; his loss all may deplore, 
Brave Simon Byrne, that hero bold, alas ! he is no more ; 
For courage true and science good he never was afraid, 
Of Larkins, Sampson, Ward, Mc Kay, could ne'er be dismayed. 

Mourn ! Erin mourn, your loss deplore ; poor Simon's dead and gone. 
An hero bi-ave laid in the grave as ever the sun shone on. 

On Thursday, May the 30th day, brave Simon took the ring, 
Back'd by Jem Ward the champion, likewise by gallant Spring, 
To fight Burke for two hundred pounds, a man of courage bold, 
To stop reports that with Ward the battle he had sold. 

Both men stript, then shook hands, when began a great display. 
For thirty rounds shouts did resound, brave Byrne will win the day. 
But Burke, as hard as beaten steel, and deaf to all their cries, ' 
When all thought he was beaten dead, time call'd, he up did rise. 

It 's knock down for knock down they fought till the ninety-ninth round. 
When Burke gave a tremendous blow, which fell'd him to the ground. 
And time being call'd, Simon's backers found it was in vain. 
Brave Byrne he fell his last that time, he could not rise again. 

To St. Alban's he was convey'd, assistance came with speed. 

The sufferings that he did undergo would make a heart to bleed, 

He sigh'd and said—" It 's not the Uow distresses me so sore, 

I did my best, I 've lost !" he sigh'd ; brave Byrne was then no more. 



Few hours before brave Simon died, these words he was heard to say, 
"Three years ago, this very day, I fought Sandy Me Kay, 
I caused his death, I meet the same, farewell my infants all. 
Dear wife, farewell, in heaven again to meet I hope we shall." 

The solemn bell, its awful knell did call our hero brave, 
Hundreds <lid cry as he pass'd by unto the silent grave, 
And now the green sod covers o'er that once manly frame. 
Say, was there e'er his like before, or will there be again ? 

When Burke and seconds of brave Byrne did hear that he was ilead, 
To France and other parts for safety off they quickly fled. 
And may the contributions which these valiant men have made, 
Be followed up with spirit for his wife and children's aid. 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 aiid 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 


During the Parliamentary Sessions of 1833, Sir Andrew 
Agnew, who sat for Wigtonshire, 1830 — 8, a strict Scottish 
Sabbatarian, with a long line of ancestry, having for their 
motto, CoNSiLio NON IMPETU— ?>., By counsel, not by force ! ! 
introduced a very stringent and in every way obnoxious bill 
for the Better Observance of the Sabbath, which called forth 
a vast quantity of caricatures from George Cruikshank 
downward, together with squibs in prose and verse and 
street-ballads by the yard. In one entitled " The Agony 
Bill," it was said if it passed the Houses of Parliament that 
Not even salts must work on Sunday. 
Chorus. — At this you '11 laugh, for it 's meant to gag you ; 
This is the Bill of Sir Andrew Agnew. 
While another set of rhymes, entitled an "Ode to Sir 
Andrew Agnew," put this somewhat pertinent question — 
Besides, sir, here 's a poser — 
At least to me it seems a closer. 
And shows a shocking lack of legislative skill — . 
If nothing. Sir 's to work from Saturdays to Mondays, 
Pray how 's your Bill 
To work on Sundays ? 
On the day appointed for the second reading of the Bill, 
Mr. Roebuck said that the Almighty did not require such 
paltry and unnatural sacrifices from his creatures as the 
asceticism of this Bill contemplated. The Bill ,was thrown 
out, as was two others of a similar tendency, also introduced 
by Sir Andrew on other occasions. 





" Those whom God loveth he chasteneth." — Hence poor Sir Andrew 
Agnew, with his Sunday Bills tied to his tail, flies from the ungodly of 
Wigton, to hide in oblivion the vexation of his defeat. 


ALAS ! tis enough to make Puritans faint, 
To hear how the sinners have treated a saint, 
Heave a sigh ev'ry heart, let each phiz, be demure. 
For the game is all up with Sir Andrew the Pure. 

Oh, ye scum of the earth ! did you dare to reject, 
So chosen a vessel, a Spirit elect ? 
You will find, in the end, 'tis disgrace and not glory. 
That //7//>-town no longer is rul'd by a Toty. 

Think, think of his zeal and his courage unshrinking, 
To keep us on Sabbaths from eating and drinking. 
And worldly affairs from our memory casting. 
To spend them in sorrow, in praying and fasting. 

The heart of a stone it would surely have melted. 
To see how unkindly with mud he was pelted : 
Drown'd puppies, dead cats, with inicjuitous mirth, 
Were shower'd down like hail on this saint of the earth. 

To Wigton be woe ; may it sink in decay. 
For driving a saint like Sir Andrew away ; 
For their intidel wish and unholy endeavour, 
To sink his proud name in oblivion for ever ! 

May Providence soon send a suital)le man 
To finish the work he so nobly began ; 
To prove that religion exhibits its power. 
In gloom and dejection and visages sour. 

To prove our existence is merely a trial, 

How far we can exercise sad self-denial, 

And denounce, with a frown, all enjoyment and mirth. 

As man was created for sorrow on earth. 

Then, oh ! 'tis enough to make Puritans faint 
To learn how vile sinners have treated the saint ; 
Heave a sigh ev'ry heart, let each mug be demure, 
For the game is all up with Sir Andrew the Pure. 

Printed by J. Catnach, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 

Battledores, Lotteries, and I'rimcrs sold cheap. Sold by Marshall, Bristol ; Hook, 

Market Street, Brighton ; liikpeu, Lewes. 


The burning of the old Houses of ParHament, October,, 
1834, was made the most of by all connected with the pro- 
duction and distribution of street-literature. The " Houses 
that Taxes built, all gone to Blazes," became at once a 
popular term with the running patterers, and one which just 
tickled the thoughts and ears of the people. The gist of 
most of the ballads and witticisms, or clap-trap lines and 
statements of the hawkers, was to the effect of the general 
regret that the whole of the ministers and members were 
not burnt with the Houses of Parliament, for then, as they 
asserted, there would be no more taxes to pay or aristocrats 
to keep ; while all sorts of causes and motives were attributed 
to the destruction of the national buildings according to the 
wit or whim of the patterer. 

An action for crim. con. — Birch v. Neale — heard in the 
Court of Common Pleas, June 25th, 1835, before the Chief 
Justice and a special jurj', created a great metropolitan 
sensation in consequence of the popularity of the parties 
concerned, the peculiar evidence given by the two female 
servants, .and the number of street-ballads, all highly-spiced 
with mots a double entente on the " Amorous Curate and the 
Rector's Wife," " The Parson's Wife and the Spreeish Curate 
of West Hackney," and " Full Particulars," &c., produced 
by the writers for the " Seven Dials Press." 

The plaintiff, the Rev. Mr. Birch, was the son of the well- 
known Alderman Birch, the famous cook and confectioner 
of 15, Cornhill, who was many years a member of the 
Common Council, and was elected Alderman of the ward 
of Candlewick. He was also Colonel of the City Militia, 
and served as Lord Mayor in 1815 — the year of the battle 
of Waterloo. He possessed considerable literary taste, and 
wrote poems and musical dramas, of which " The Adopted 
Child " remained a stock piece to our time. Dr. Kitchener, 
in his " Cook's Oracle," extols the mock turtle soup of Birch, 
and his skill was long famed in Civic bancjuets. At the 


time of this action the son was rector of St. Ann, West 
Hackney Parish, near London; the defendant, the Rev. Mr. 
Neale, a very popular preacher, his curate. Mr. Thesiger, 
Mr. Piatt, and Mr. Browne appeared for the plaintiff ; Sir 
I'Yederick Pollock and Mr. Richards were for the defendant. 
I'he jury returned a verdict for the plaintiff with ;a^2oo 
damages. In addition to the usual newspaper reports of the 
case, and the ballads and fly-sheets written and manufactured 
exclusively for street sale, the trial /// extenso was published 
in pamphlet form. 

In 1836, Mr. T. D. Rice, who had previously appeared 
at the Surrey Theatre, in " Bone Squash Diablo," made his 
first appearance at the Adelphi, in a farcical Burletta, 
called "A Flight to America; or, Twelve Hours in New- 
York." The sketch, written for him by Mr. Leman Rede, 
introduced Rice as a nigger, Yates as a Frenchman, and 
Mrs. Stirling, Miss Daly, John Reeve, and Buckstone 
strengthened the cast. "Jump Jim Crow" caught the 
fancy of the town at once, and the familiar tune was soon to 
be heard everywhere. Rice stayed through the whole season, 
playing an engagement of twenty-one weeks, then considered 
something extraordinary. For a long period he performed 
at the Adelphi and the Pavilion Theatres the same evening, 
and it was calculated that in so doing he had travelled 
considerably more than a thousand miles, while being 
encored five times at each theatre for 126 nights, it was 
easy to set down the figure of 1,260 as representing the 
number of times he had sung " Jim Crow," during that 
l)eriod. Rice cleared by this engagement eleven hundred 
pounds.* A street-ballad of the day informed the public 
that it could have : — 

* History of the Adelphi Theatre, by E. L. Dlancharil. 
Almanack," 1S77. 


" The Jim Crow rum, the Jim Crow gin, 
The Jim Crow needle, and the Jim Crow pin ; 
The Jim Crow coat, the Jim Crow cigar ; 
The Jim Crow dad, and the Jim Crow ma'; 
The Jim Crow i)ipe, the Jim Crow hat. 
The Jim Crow this, and the Jim Crow that. 

There were a hundred-and-one versions of "Jim Crow," 
fresh stanzas being added from day to day on the passing 
events, for the most part written by Leman Rede, and 
Buckstone, the honorarium offered by Rice being one 
shining per line. We select as follows from the first version 
as sung at the Surrey Theatre : 



"OW are you massa gemmen, 
An de ladies in a row, 
All for to tell you whar I 'm from, 
I 'se going for to go ! 
For I wheel about an turn about, an do just so, 
An ebery time I turn about, 1 jump Jim Crow. 


'Twas down in " Ole Wurginny," 

About thirty years ago, 
T)at dis han'sLim picaninny 

'Gan to jump Jim Crow, 

So I turn about, &c. 

'Twas wid ole massa Jackson, ^ 

In de state ob Tennessee, 
Dat I fuss larn de rudiments 

Ob trabbling joggrafee. 

When 1 turn about, &c 

An in de hurry scurry, 
Ob dis huiar world below, 

I tought 1 'd come to Surrey 
An jump Jim Crow. 

So I turn about, c^c 



OH, I 'se from Lusiana, as you must all know, 
Bar's where Jim along Josey's all de go— 
Dem nigger all rise when de bell does ring, 
And dis am de song dat dey do sing. 

Hey get along, get along Josey, 

Hey get along; Jim along Joe — 
Hey get along, get along Joe, 
Hfiy get along, Jim along Joe. 

Once old Jim Crow was dare all de go, 
'Till he found him rival in Jim along Joe ; 
Now poor old Jim, dey hab put him to bed, 
And Jim along Josey hab come in him stead. 
Hey get along, etc. 

Oh, when I get dat new coat I expects to hab soon. 
Likewise de new pair tight knee'd Trousaloon ; 
I '11 walk up and down Bond Street wid my Susanna, 
And in my mout I smoke de real Habannah. 
Hey get along, &c. 


My sissa Rosa de oder night did dream, 
IXat she was a floating up and do\\Ti de stream, 
And when she woke she did begin to cry, 
" O ! de white cat pick'd out de black cat's eye." 
Hey get along (S:c. 

Now away down South, not berry far off, 
De bull frog died wid de hooping cough ; 
And t 'other side de Mississippi, as you must know, 
Dare was whare dey christen me Jim along Joe. 
Hey get along, &c. 

Dem New York nigger tink dey 're so fine, 
Because dey drink noting but de genuine ; 
But de poor Kentuck nigger when der day gone by, 
Dey sarv-e dem like an old horse, kicked out to die. 
Hey get along &c. 

Oh, I 'm de bold nigger dat don't mind my troubles, 
Because they 're noting more dan bubbles, 
D 'ambition dat such nigger feels, 
Is showing de science of him heels. 

Hey get along, &c. 

De best President we eber had was General Washington, 
And de one we 've got now is Massa Van Buren, 
But although the old General's long gone dead, 
As long's de country stands, him name shall float ahead, 
Hey get along, &c. 




I'VE often heard it said ob late, 
Dat Souf Carolina was de state, 
Whar a handsome nigga 's bound to shine, 
Like Dandy Jim, from Caroline, 
For my ole massa tole me so, 
I was de best looking nigga in de country, O, 
I look in de glass an found 'twas so, 
Just what massa tole me, O. 


I drest myself from top to toe, 
And down to Dinah I did go, 
\Vid pantaloons strapped down behind, 
Like Dandy Jim, from Caroline. 

For my ole massa, «S:c. 

De bull dog cleared me out ob de yard, 
I tought I 'd better leabe my card, 
I tied it fast to a piece ob twine, 
Signed " Dandy Jim, from Caroline." 

For my ole massa, &c. 

She got my card an wrote me a letter, 
An ebery word she spelt de better, 
For ebery word an ebery line, 
Was Dandy Jim, from Caroline. 

For my ole massa, &c. 

Oh, beauty is but skin deep. 
But wid Miss Dinah none compete. 
See changed her name from lubly Dine, 
To Mrs. Dandy Jim, from Caroline. 

For my ole massa, «fcc. 

An ebery little nig she had. 
Was de berry image ob de dad, 
Dar heels stick out three feet behind, 
Like Dandy Jim, from Caroline. 

For my ole massa, &c. 

I took dem all to church one day. 
An hab dem christened widout delay, 
De preacher christened eight or nine. 
Young Dandy Jims, from Caroline. 

For my ole massa, <S:c. 



An when de preacher took his text, 

He seemed to be berry much perplexed, 

For nothing cum across his mind, 

But Dandy Jims, from CaroHne. 
For my ole massa tole me so, 
I was de best looking nigga in de country, O, 
I look in de glass, and found 'twas so, 
Just what ole massa tole me, O ! 


ALL round the room I waltz'd with Ellen Taylor, 
All round the room I waltz'd till break of day. 
And ever since that time I 've done nothing but bewail her, 
Alas ! she 's gone to Margate, the summer months to stay. 
'Twas at a ball at Islington I first chanc'd to meet her. 

She really look'd so nice I couldn't keep my eyes away ; 
In all my life before I ne'er saw so sweet a creature, 

She danc'd with me three hours, then fainted quite away. 



Spoken. — '^\\Q was such a divine creature ! I fell in love with her the 
moment I saw her. I looked languishing at her, and she did the same 
at me ; then she gave such a sigh — such a heavy one ! — you might have 

heard it- 

All round the room, &c. 

My Ellen 's rather tall, and my Ellen 's »ather thin, too, 
Her hair is rather sandy, and at singing she's aufait, 

That she should leave me now I think it quite a sin, too, 
I 'm sure I shan't be happy all the time she is away. 

Spoken. — She was an //angel ! such a natural sort of woman ! She 
wore a bustle — that wasn't ver)' natural, though — it was rather a largish 

one ; I suppose, upon a moderate calculation, it would have reached 

All round the room, &c. 

For seven long years I 'm apprentic'd in the City, 

But four of them are gone, and I Ve only three to stay : 

But if Ellen should refuse me, oh, crikey ! what a pity ! 
I '11 go and ask her pa, and I think he won't say nay. 

Spoken. — No, I don't think he'll refuse me; and if he don't, I'll 
marry Ellen, and we '11 go into business. We '11 keep a catsmeat shop ; 
no, we '11 keep a chandler's shop. Ellen would look so nice behind the 
counter, serving the customers out a ha'p'orth of treacle, a red herring, 
a half-quartern of butter, &c. Then we '11 keep a one-horse shay, and 

I '11 drive the children out with us on a Sunday— yes. Til drive them 

All round the room, &c. 





Who caus'd the smiles of rich and poor ? 
Who made a hit so slow, but sure ? 
And rose the worth of literature ? 

Sam Weller. 

I'M pretty well known about town, 
For to gain a repute is my pride, 
Though no vun can doubt my renown, 

I 'm a covey of polish beside ! 
I renovates cases for feet, 

Vhether high-lows or tops is the same, 
I turns 'em off hand werry neat, 
And Samivel Veller's my name! 

Fol lol, &c. 

In the Borough my trade I dragged on, 
Vith no vun to envy my sphere ; 

I polish'd the soles of each don. 

From the cadger bang up to the peer ! 


Their understandings I greatly improv'd, 

Vot happen'd to fall in the way ; 
And many a gen'lenian mov'd 

To me in the course of the day. 
Fol lol, &c. 

Vun gen'leman — Pickvick, Esquire, 

The head of the noted P. C 
Vun day tumbled in to enquire, 

If I 'd had the/vY/// to see 
A cove vearing Vellington kicks, 

And a Miss Rachel Vardle beside, 
Vot the gent, had lugged off by the )iicks. 

And promis'd to make her his bride, 
Fol lol, &c. 

I knowed by the cut of his boot, 

As the cove had put up at our inn, 
So Pickvick, without a dispute. 

Comes tumbling down with the //'// .' 
And me arter that he engages, 

To follow him in his career — 
Good togs and twelve shiners for vages, 

Paid every annual year. 

Fol lol, &c. 

Some coves when they rises, you know. 

They stick to vulgarity will ; 
But that vos my notice below, 

'Cos as how I 'm a gen'leman still. 
" For riches is nothing to me. 

If ever them I vos among " — 
As the gen'leman said, d 'ye see. 

At the time he vos goin' to be hung ! 
Fol lol, c^c. 


I trotted all over the town, 

And seed all the pleasures of life — 
'Cos being to knowingness down, 

I never get into no strife. 
" I couldn 't see more if I wished, 

So I must be content, I suppose' " — 
As the blind man said vhen he vas swished 

To the lady vithout any nose ! 

Fol lol, &c. 

" Now I hopes you 're all hearty and chnff, 

'Cos I 'm now going to take my release " 
As the poulterer said, with a huff, 

Vhile a-killing the himiocent geese ! 
" But I hopes I shall see you again, 

'Cos I knows you on niceties stand" — 
As the hemperor dictated, vhen 

The crocodile nipped off his hand ! 
Fol lol, &c. 

Sir :— You 're an 'umbug : that is — " In a Pickwickian sense.' 


The year 1837 produced two senational murders and 
executions. The first case — that of Pegsworth — made a 
great stir, particularly in the east part of London. It was 
on the evening of the 9th of January, 1837, that a most 
atrocious and cold-blooded murder was committed in 
Katcliff Highway. The individual who suffered was Mr. 
John Holliday Ready, who for some time carried on the 
trade of a tailor, draper, and milliner. John Pegsworth, 
was a messenger in the tea department of St. Katherine's 
Docks, he had formerly kept a small tobacconist's shop in 
tlie same street, and had contracted a debt of ;£\ with Mr. 
Ready, who, being unable to obtain payment, took out a 
summons against him in the Court of Requests, Osborne 
Street, Whitechapel. The Court gave judgment against 
Pegsworth for the full amount and costs, which he was 
ordered to pay by instalments. On the evening of the same 
day Pegsworth proceeded to a cutler's shop in Shadwell, 
where he bought a large pig-knife, armed with which he 
immediately repaired to the house of Mr. Ready for the 
purpose of executing his diabolical intention. He entered 
the shop, and having spoken to Mrs. Ready, passed on to 
the parlour and got into conversation with Mr. Ready. 
Pegsworth, although pressingly asked to do so, declined 
taking a seat, and after he had been talking about ten 
minutes in a calm and collected manner on the subject of 
the debt and the misfortunes he had met with in business, 
he pointedly asked Mr. Ready if he intended to enforce 
the payment of the debt ? Ready said he should be com- 
pelled to issue an execution against his goods if the money 
was not paid. The words had scarcely left the lips of the 
unfortunate man than Pegsworth uttered some exclamation 
which is supposed to have been, " Take that !" and plunged 
the knife with great force into his breast up to the hilt. 
Ready called out to his wife, " O, I am stabbed !" fell back 
in his chair, and almost immediately expired. Mrs. Ready, 


who saw Pegsworth move his arm, but Avas not aware her 
husband was stabbed until she saw him fall back, screamed 
aloud for assistance, and several of her neighbours rushed 
into the shop for the purpose of securing the murderer, who 
did not make the least attempt to escape, but having com- 
pleted his purpose, withdrew the knife from the body of his 
victim, laid it on the table, and calmly awaited the arrival 
of the police. 

Pegsworth was tried at the Central Criminal Court of 
London on the 12th of February, and found guilty of wilful 
murder, and was executed in front of the debtor's door in 
the Old Bailey on the 9th of March following. 

During the whole of the time that was occupied in the 
trial and execution of Pegsworth, a circumstance took place 
which excited an extraordinary sensation throughout the 
metropolis and its neighbourhood — namely, the discovery 
near the Pine Apple Gate, Edgware Road, of the trunk of 
a human being, tied up in a sack, dismembered of the arms, 
legs, and head. 

The utmost vigilance was exercised to trace out the 
murderer, but for several days no light was thrown upon 
the transaction. At length, on the 6th of January, as a 
barge was passing down the Regent's Canal, near Stepney, 
one of the eastern environs of London, the bargeman, to 
his unspeakable horror, fished up what proved to be a 
human head. Proper notice of this circumstance was 
forwarded to the police. It was now very generally sup- 
posed the head would prove to belong to the body found in 
the Edgware Road, although at a distance of nearly five 
miles, and this conjecture proved to be correct. 

On the second of February the remaining portions of the 
human being was discovered in a sack in an osier bed, near 
Cold Harbour Lane, Camberwell. These mutilated remains 
were carefully matched together, and at length recognised 


as those of a Mrs. Brown, and suspicion fell, and justly so, 
upon James Greenacre and his paramour Sarah Gale. 

In the Greenacre tragedy Catnach did a great amount of 
business, and as it was about the last "popular murder" in 
which he had any trade concern, we give, on the next page, 
a facsimile copy of one of the several " Execution Papers " 
published at the time, and it is estimated that 1,650,000 
copies, in all, were sold. 

In respect to the last two murders we have cited, Mr. 
Mayhew received from an old " running patterer " the 
following statement — " Pegsworth was an out-and-out lot. 
I did tremendous with him, because it happened in London, 
down Ratcliff Highway — that 's a splendid quarter for 
working — there 's plenty of feeling — but, bless you, some 
places you go to you can't move nohow, they've hearts 
like paving stones. They wouldn't have ' the papers ' if 
you'd give them to 'em — especially when they knows you. 
Greenacre didn't sell so well as might have been expected, 
for such a diabolical out-and-out crime as he committed ; 
but you see he came close after Pegsworth, and that took 
the beauty off him. Two murderers together is no good to 






dac-ed, wbioh BhoTcd* tl)Bt '.hd aack in wbicb the bodj mu found 
wu the property of Mr. Ward; that it waa aaoallT depoaiied in • 
part of tbe premiDea vhich led to the n-orlcsbop, ana coald irithoat 
obserration tRTe been carried B\rfl]f by him ; that the said etck 
contained Mveral fragments of Bhaving« of mahogany, aacb at 
were made in (be coarse :>f btuuness by Word j ud that tC 
coctniDed some piece« of linen olotb, irhioh bod been patobod with 
DAQkoen ; that this Uneii doth miOched oznetl; fi-itb a frock which 
was fotmd on Orocnoore's premisea, and wh^ beIoD£«d to the 
female prlsonor. Feltham, a police-officer, depcaed, that on the 
26t;b of March bo npprebendea tbe prwmen ai tbe lodginga of 
GkeenocTO ; Uiat on Rearcfaing tbe troween poclcftfaB of tbat pcnoo, 
be book thwefcom a pawnbrokcr'a dcplicata for tw((^iilk g;6*aa, 
and from tbe fb^era ot the female phwDer two ^ing^ and alao a 
moular dopUcate for two Toils, and an old-fiubioned ailTn watch, 
which she was endeavouring to conceal; and it waa farther 
pnred that tbeae articica were pledged by the prisonera, asd tbat 
ibey had been tbe propertr of the deceaaod woman.— Two sargeona 
were examined, whose orjdence Waa moat important, and whose 
depoeltiona were of the greatest conaequcnee In throwing a dew 
liiriit on tbe manner ht which the female, Hannah Rrowo, met 
intb her death. Mr. BirtwhiaUe depoeei that ho had oareftJly 
i«camiiied tbe head ; tbat tbe right eje had been knocked o«t bj a 
Mow indicted wbflo tbe pennn waa bring; then waa also aotitOD 
the cheek, and the Jaw i«&a Cractuied, theM two last wonndi wen^ 
in hia opinion, pnxhioodBiler death; there wis also a bnuMoa the 
head, wltith had ooonned after death; the bead bad been MptitfM 
by oQttuur, and the '<t<mii tmotd utfrip Mfof^A, and then broken 
off; there were the marks of a saw. whieb fitted with a saw wfueb 

minnttly and ekilftilly deseribod fiie appearances p(««ht«d on tKe 
head, and showed tDcnntestiUr.,tIiat.ti>e bead, hdd boen .serered 
ftom the bodr wAiZs tlu ptnmyoaa yef •/*»; dut (bfa was prqred 
tn tbe retnc&on, or drawing bask, ofthennaoles at ibejMrtaifhe^ 
Ihey were aeparated by the Vtiifa, end ftirtLei. by the bfood-»ee«|B 
helnc empty, the body was dmoed of blood. TbU part of the 

Jndga, the jury r . . 

hour, getoraed' Into oomi, tad pnmoutoad a rerdiet of "QotUy" 
against both the prlRooen. 

Tbe phaonen heard tbe verdict withoat erinciJ^ rhe teart 
emotsoo. or the slightest change of comitcoanje. After an awfbl 
aileQce of a ^wmiantee, tbe Lord Chief 'Jucticc uid thejr might 
retire, aa they woold .be remaodec' nntD tbe end of tbo scaaloo. 

They were then eondnrted from tlie bar, and on going down ft» 
Mepe, the anfortnnate female priaooor kiased Greenacre with uwf 
nark-tif tecidenioss sad affection. 

The crowd outoida the eoort on thia day waa oveu greater than 
00 eifber of tbo preceding ; and when the reaiUt of tbe trial wsk 
made known in t&o street, ;i sodden and geaerol nboot sooeeeded. 
and contjimed bozzaa were beard for eevenil mlootea. 


At half pastacTea the iheriff arrived i|) bit carriage, and iu a 
short time the preas-yard was thronged witb geotlemoa who had 
been admitted by tickets. Tbe anbappy ronrict was now led from 
his oeE W^en he arrived in the preiB-yiird, his wrh<#9 appearenoa 
ponrtmyed the olmoat mioary aiS sptril-broken dejochon ; his 
coontenaace haggard, and bis whole frame agitated ; all that self' 
1 ooA fortitude which he displayed in the eartr part of bis 
,' bad utteriy foraekea him, and had left Mm a ricttm 
ts and despair. He reqnetted the executioner to gir* 
e pain as poolblo in the preeeis of pinioaing his arms 

bis offended Chd\ 

terriflo yolla, groaa% ar 
mnltitnde jnironndiDe 
f , aod beggeS 1 
. ; and aimort 

exhibited no a 
of recoLciliotioD with bis c 

ordinary preceded him iQ the soIemD procession throng^ 
jd paitage to the fatal drop, he was so oTerccms ud 

not support himself withoat the aid of tha 

to be laoBched into etenity, tbe most 

e place of exeention. Greenacra bowed to 
might not be allowed to remain long In tha 
nmodiately the fetal bolt was witbdrewn, 
bo became a lifeless corBe.^Thna, endd 

the days of Greenacre, a man etidotred nth more than ordinary 

talents, respeotnWy oonuected. and desirably placed in oociety ; bat 

a want of probity, an abwlnto dcirth of principle, led " 

from one orima to another, ontir at length ho 

■angninary deed which brungh 

graoeful period, and which hi 

aotoriona of those who bare expiated t 

Od hearing tba death-bell toll. Gale became drf«dfaUy agitated ; 

and when she heard tha bmtal ahoala ot the crowd f>t speotftdaL 

abo fainted, and renuinedin astate of alternate meoW a^ony and 

insmsibility throngbout the whole day. 

I body ma cot 
fc, of tbe pri. 









for Attwood. a tough wood of a good grain, grows 
at Birmingham, and is used as the principal material 
in building up the Unions. 

for Brougham. A broom worn to a stump, formerly 
the Queen's own, but now owned by none. 

for Calthorpe. A word despised by the Whigs, 
but will ever live in the hearts of the people. 

for Dan. A Patriot of the land of Coercion, where 
St. Patrick banished the toads, and Stanley the 

for Eldon. Old Bags ; one that shed an abundance 
of crocodile tears without one drop of pity, and 
would put down, if he could, Penny Papers. 


"P for Franky. a pretended friend of the people, 
■^ arrived at his second childishness, and plays at 

Shuttlecock with the Electors of Westminster. 











for Grey. A dealer in humbugs : who behaved as a 
father to the people, by giving them that which 
they asked for.— The Bill, the whole Bill, and 
Nothing bid the Bill! 

for Hobby. A Westminster Rat, who had so often 
received the favours of the people, that at last 
they had nothing to give but cabbage stumps, 
which he received in showers at Covent Garden. 

for Injury. A performance that takes place every 
day and night, by the Rich against the Poor Man 
and a Brother. 

for Justice. A balance between Might and Right, 
but always leaning to power and riches. 

for King. A title of Monarchy, an Idol of immense 

for Loyalty. A word nearly threadbare in some 

for Mouth. A part of the human body, padlocked 
by Law, by which the millions now are oppressed. 

for Noble. A mad Scottish fool, 
for O'Connell of the Patriot School. 

for Peelers. A body of great Force. Brave and 
noble conquerors of an un-armed and peaceable 

for Question — how long will they last? 





for Reform. A word that filled the mouths of 
thousands, but the stomachs of few : — A Bill that 
was spoiled in the nursing. A thing without 

for Stomach. — "Apartments Unfurnished," Inquire 
Within ! 

for Truncheon. A Knock-down argument of Power, 
an instrument of the Whigs. 

for Union. A word despised by all oppressors. 

for Verdict. A word lately known as a Terror to 
the Blues, but the Glory of others. 

^\JJ for Whigs, who 'd that Verdict suspend. 

V for the Cross with which it will end. 

"Y" for Youth. An unbaked and doughy nonentity. 

n for Zany. A Tool employed to raise laughter, by his 
*~^ gestures, actions, and speeches. N.B. — A large 

collection kept in the Houses of Lords and Commons. 

Tutor. — " There 's a good boy, now get your new edition 
of ' ^sop's Fables,' and I will hear you read the ' Fable 
of the Ministers in Danger.' " 

Pupil. — (Reading.) "There was a Ministry in Danger of 
a Turn-out, and many were their opinions concerning the 
best plan to be adopted to secure their seats, when a noble 
Hermit said there was nothing so good as a Coercion Bill ; 
an Ex-Chancellor (called Old Bags) said a Coercion Bill 
might do very well, but there was nothing so good, nor so 
essential, as the suppression of the Penny Press ; but their 


Wise and Grey old leader being present said, ' Gentlemen, 
you can do as you please, but take my word theie is nothing 
like the Destruction of the Unions.' " 

T. — "There's a good boy, now read me the Fable of 
'The Mountain and the Mouse.'" 

P. — "Yes, Sir. There was a Bill which made a great 
noise in a certain country for many years, and they said it 
was in Labour, and the People looked with hopes for the 
Production of great Benefits, and great was their joy at the 
thoughts, when after many months' pain and anxiety, it 
produced a mouse." 

T. — " I hope, my children, this will be a warning to you, 
never build your hopes on the promises of those who are 
reaping the harvest of your labour, for they will take away 
your Substance, and leave you the Shadow to feed upon. 

' You trusted to the Whigs, and the Tories turn'd out, 
Now which of the two is the best, there 's a doubt ; 
For the Tories and Whigs are all birds of a feather, 
May the D 1 come soon and take both together.' " 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Cards, Bills, 
&c., Printed on very reasonable terms. 


From time immemorial tlie ballad singer, with his rough 
and ready broad-sheet, has travelled over the whole surface 
of the country in all seasons and weathers, yet there was 
one time of the year, however, when he went out of his 
every-day path and touched on deeper matters than 
accidents, politics, prize fights, sporting matches, murders, 
battles, royalty, famous men and women. Christmas time 
brought, both to him and his audience, its witness of the 
unity of the great family in heaven and earth, its story of 
the life and death of Him in whom that unity stands. 
Several examples, of Christmas carols and Scripture-sheets, 
bearing Catnach's imprint lie before us, thanks to the 
kindness of Mr. W. S. Fortey, Catnach's successor; these 
broadsides bear several distinctive marks which show that 
it was an object of more than ordinary care to publishers 
and ballad singers. In the first place, these Christmas 
sheets are double the size of the ordinary broad-sheet, and 
contain four or five carols — generally one long narrative 
ballad, and three or four short pieces. Each of them 
having two or three large woodcuts and several of smaller 
sizes. One sheet is entitled "The Trial of Christ," 
another, "Faith, Hope, and Charity," "Our Saviour's Love," 
a fourth "The Tree of Life," the next "A Copy of a 
Letter written by our Blessed Jesus Christ, and found 
eighteen miles from Iconium, sixty-three years after our 
Blessed Saviour's Crucifiction, — Transmitted from the 
Holy City by a converted Jew. Faithfully Translated from 
the Original Hebrew Copy, now in possession of Lady 
CuBAs's family, in Mesopotamia. This letter was found 
under a great stone, round and large, at the foot of the 
Cross. Upon the stone was graven, 'Blessed is he that 
shall turn me over.' All people that saAv it prayed to God 
earnestly, and desired that he would make the writing 
known unto them, that they might not attempt in vain to 
turn the stone over." 



Another entitled "THE STAGES OF LIFE: or, The 
various Ages and Degrees of Human Life explained by 
these Twelve different Stages, from our Birth to our Graves." 

To \o Years old. 

" ~l riS vain delusive thoughts are fiU'd 

J L With vain delusive joys — 

The empty bubble of a dream, 
Which waking change to toys." 

From ID to 20 Years old. 

■" ~j |~IS heart is now puff'd up, 
-LI He scorns the tutor's hand ; 
He hates to meet the least control 
And glories to command." 

FroJH 20 to 30 Years old. 

" rriHERE 's naught here that can withstand 
-L The rage of his desire, 
His wanton flames are now blown up, 
His mind is all on fire." 


From 30 to 40 Years old. 

LOOK forward and repent 
Of all thy errors past, 
That so thereby thou may'st attain 
True happiness at last." 

From 40 /<? 50 Years old. 

AT fifty years he is 
Like the declining sun, 
For now his better half of life, 
Man seemeth to have run." 

From 50 to 60 Years old. 

HIS wasted taper now 
Begins to lose its light, 
His sparkling flames doth plainly show 
'Tis growing towards niglit." 

From 60 to 70 Years old. 

PERPLEX'D with slavish fear 
And unavailing woe, 
He travels on life's rugged way 
With locks as white as snow." 

From 70 to 80 Years old, 

INFIRMITY is great, 
At this advanced age, 
And ceaseless grief and weakness leagued. 
Now vent their bitter rage." 

From 80 /<? 90 Years old. 

LIFE'S ' Vital Spark'— the soul. 
Is hovering on the verge 
Of an eternal world above, 
And waiting to emerge." 



From 90 to 100 Years old. 

' rriHE sun is sinking fast 
-1- Behind the clouds of earth, 
Oh may it shine with brighter beams, 
Where hght receiv'd her birth." 

f ::#1^-^-: f 




" Looking at these Christmas broad-sheets," says the 
writer of an article on street-ballads, in the " National 
Review," for October, 1861, "it would really seem as if 
the poorest of our brethren claimed their right to higher 
nourishment than common for their minds and souls, as well 
as for their bodies, at the time of year when all Christendom 
should rejoice. And this first impression is confirmed when 
we examine their contents. In all those which we have 
seen, the only piece familiar to us is that noble old carol 
' While shepherds watched their flocks by night,' where the 
rest come from, we cannot even conjecture ; but in the whole 
of them there is not one which we should wish were not 
there. We have been unable to detect in them even a coarse 
expression ; and of the hateful narrowness and intolerance, 
the namby-pamby, the meaningless cant, the undue 
familiarity with holy things, which makes us turn with a 
shudder from so many modern collections of hymns, there 
is simply nothing. 

" Account for it how we will, there is the simple fact. 
Perhaps it may lead us to think somewhat differently of 
those whom we are in the habit of setting down in the mass 
as little better than heathens. We cannot conclude -this 
article better than by giving an extract or two from these 
Christmas broad-sheets." 





* *JL*^*^*>*^ 

'• The Saviour's Garland, a choice Collection of the most 
esteemed Carols," has the usual long narrative ballad, which 
begins : 

" Come, all you faithful Christians 
That dwell upon the earth, — 
Come, celebrate the morning 

Of our dear Saviour's birth : 
This is the happy morning, — 

This is the happy morn 
Whereon, to save our ruined race, 
The Son of God was born." 
And after telling simply the well-known story, it ends : 
" Now to him up ascended. 
Then let your praises be, 
That we His steps may follow, 

And He our pattern be ; 
That when our lives are ended 

We may hear His blessed call : 
' Come, souls, receive tlic kingdom 
Prepared for you all.' " 



Another, "The Star 
lied Carols fm 
thus ; 

esteemed Carols for the present tear '"; ' """'°" °' 
thus .• W^^^nx year, opens its narrative 

"Let all that are to mirth inclined 
Consider well and bear in mind 
What our good God for us has done 
In sending His beloved Son. 
Let all our songs and praises be 
Unto His heavenly Majesty ; 
And evermore amongst our mirth 
Remember Christ our Saviour's birth. 
The twenty-fifth day of December , 
VVe have great reason to remember • 
In Bethlehem, u])on that morn, ' 
iherc was a blessed Saviour born," &c 


One of the short pieces, by no means the best, we give 
whole : 

" With one consent let all the earth 
The praise of God proclaim, 
Who sent the Saviour, by whose birth 
To man salvation came. 

All nations join and magnify 

The great and wondrous love 
Of Him who left for us the sky. 

And all the joys above. 

But vainly thus in hymns of praise 

We bear a joyful part, 
If while our voices loud we raise. 

We lift not up our heart. 

We, by a holy life alone, 

Our Saviour's laws fulfil ; 
By those His glory is best showii 

Who best perform His will. 

May we to all His words attend 

With humble, pious care ; 
Then shall our praise to heaven ascend. 

And find acceptance there." 

We do not suppose that the contents of these Christmas 
broad-sheets are supplied by the same persons who write the 
murder-ballads, or the attacks on crinoline. They may be 
l)orrowed from well-known hymn books for anything we 
know. But if they are borrowed, we must still think it 
much to the credit of the selectors, that, where they might 
have found so much that is objectionable and offensive, 
they should have chosen as they have done. We only hope 
that their successors, whoever they may be who will become 
the caterers for their audiences, will set nothing worse 
before them. 



Christmas broad-sheets formed an important item in the 
office of the " Catnach Press," as the sale was enormous, 
and Catnach ahvays looked forward for a large return of 
capital, and a " good clearance " immediately following the 
sj)urt for Guy Fawkcs' si)ceches, in October of each year. 
But although the sale was very large, it only occupied one 
" short month." This enabled them to make Carols a stock 
job, so that when trade in the Ballad, Sensational, "Gallows," 
or any other line of business was dull, they used to fill up 
every s])are hour in the working off or colouring them, so 
as to be ready to meet the extraordinary demand which was 
sure to be made at the fall of the year. 

Like most of the old English customs, Christmas-carol 
singing is fast dying out. Old peripatetic stationers well 
remember the rich harvest they once obtained at Christmas 
times by carol selling. Now there are very few who care to 
invest more than a shilling or two at a time on the venture ; 
whereas in times long past, all available capital was readily 
embarked in the highly-coloured and plain sheets of the 
birth of our Saviour, with the carol of " Christians, 
awake," or "The Seven Good Joys of Mary :" — 

JAMES c.nw.ic/i. 

" The first good joy our Mary had, 

It was the joy of one, 
To see her own Son, Jesus, 

To suck at her breast-bone. 
'J'o suck at her breast-bone, God-man, 

And blessed may He be, 
Both Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 

To all eternity." 

Now, whether carol singing has degenerated with carol 
poetry, and consequently the sale of Christmas carols 
diminished, is a question we need not enter upon ; but 
when we turn to the fine old carols of our forefathers, we 
cannot help regretting that many of these are buried in the 
records of the long past. 

Here are a couple of verses of one, said to be the first 
carol or drinking-song composed in England. The original 
is in Anglo-Norman French : — 


" Lordlings, from a distant home, 
To seek old Christmas are we come, 

Who loves our minstrelsy — 
And here, unless report mis-say, 
The greybeard dwells ; and on this day 
Keeps yearly wassail, ever gay 
With festive mirth and glee. 

Lordlings, it is our host's command, 
And Christmas joins him hand in hand. 

To drain the brimming bowl ; 
And I '11 be foremost to obey, 
Then pledge we, sirs, and drink away. 
For Christmas revels here to day, 
And sways without control. 
Now ivassail to you all ! and merry may you be. 
And foul that wight befall, who drinks not health to me." 
One can well imagine the hearty feeling which would greet 
a party of minstrels carolling out such a song as the above 
in Christmas days of yore ; and then contrast the picture 
with a troupe from St. Giles's or Whitechapel bawling out 
" God Rest you Merry Gentlemen !" The veiy thought of 
the contrast sends a shudder through the whole human 
system ; and no wonder the first were received with welcome 
feasting, and the latter driven " with more kicks than half- 
pence " from the doors. 

In an old book of "Christmasse CaroUes newely emprinted 
at London, in the fletestrete at the sygne of the Sonne by 
Wynkyn de Worde. The yere of our Lorde, m.d.xxi. 
Quarto." Is a carol on " Bryngyng in the Bore's Head": — 

" The bore's head in hande bring I, 
With garlandes gay and rosemary, 
I pray you all synge merely, 
Qui est is in convivio. 


The bore's head, I understandc 
Is the chiefe senyce in this lande, 
Loke wherever it be fande, 
Scnnte cum Cantico. 

Be gladde, lordes, both more and lassc, 
For this hath ordayned our stewarde, 

To chcre you all this Christmasse, 
The bore's head with mustarde." 



With certain alterations, this carol is still, or at least was 
very recently, retained at Queen's College, Oxford, and 
sung to a cathedral chant of the psalms. 

It would occupy too much space to search into the origin 
of Christmas carols. They are doubtless coeval with the 
original celebrations of Christmas, first as a strictly Romish 
sacred ceremony, and afterwards as one of joyous festivity. 


Sonic idea of the present market value of Catnatch 
literature may be formed from the two items here following, 
taken from the catalogue of a second-hand bookseller: — 

'•Broadsides.— A Collection of 9 Curious Old Broadsides and 
Christmas Carols, printed at Seven Dials and elsewhere. On rough 
folio paper, and illustrated xoith quaint and rude woodcuts, in their 
original condition, with rough edges, neatly mountai on white paper and 
bound in half Roxburghe. Contents : — Letter written by Jesus Christ 
— 6 Carols for Christmas — Messenger of Mortality, or Life and Death 
Contrasted — ALassacre of the French King, by which the unfortunate 
Louis XVL suffered on the scaffold, with a large woodcut of his exe- 
cution — £1 IIS. 6d. 

"Old Songs and Ballads.— A Collection of 35 most Curious 
Old Songs and Ballads, printed at Seven Dials, on rough old straw 
paper, and illustrated with quaint and rude woodcuts or engrazings. In 
their original condition with rough edges, very neatly mounted on fine 
paper, and bound in half Roxburghe — £,2, 2s." 

In the British Museum there is a large collection of 
popular ballads — upwards of 4,000 — printed by Catnach 
and many other printers of street literature throughout the 
kingdom. The title in the Catalogue is "Collection 
OF Songs," 2 vols., folio ; the press mark 1,876. d. They 
were acquired in 1868, and contain the book-plate of R. F. 

Catnach was now at the height of his fame as a printer 
of ballads, Christmas-pieces, carols, lotteries, execution 
papers, dying speeches, catchpennies, primers and battle- 
dores, ' and his stock of type and woodcuts had very con- 
siderably increased to meet his business demands. And it 
may be said that he was the very Napoleon of buyers at 
sales by auction of "printers' stock." On one occasion, 
when lot after lot was being knocked down to him, one of 
the "Littlejohn crew" of "knock-out-men" of the period, 
observed to the auctioneer, "Why, sir, Mr. Catnach is 
buying up all the lots." "Yes," replied the auctioneer, 
" And what 's more, Mr. Catnach will pay for them and 



Clear away all his lots in the morning;" then addin^ somp 

of " printers- stock," we may, with some degree of "1^ 
come to the conclusfon that he could have on^ bough ts d,' 
lots that would be considered by other master printers a 
r he'i^icTnti^f'T r "P"^'^"' cheapness'that^uid 
batte ed letter, for Jemmy was a man who hated "innow.v 
ttons as he used to call improvements, and he, therefore 
had a great horror in laying out his money in new and im 
proved manufactured type, because, as he observed, he let" 
so many standing formes, and when certain sorts rln sho 
he was not particular, and would tell the boys to use any 
thmg would make a good shift. For instance he 
never cons.dered a compositor could be ag oul" for a 
owercase-1" while he had a figure « 1 " oracar-I ' to 

fi'ire "0»T' "' '"^ ^™' ™'^' *^ -P- "0" and 
case-p'-b-d^Tr?^ """ "J-'™>'^" *e lower- 
fase p, b d, and "q,» would all do duty for each other 
m t..n. and .f they could not always find Roman I e, s t 
fimsh a word w,.h, why the compositor knew ve" U ^ at 
the "reader" would not mark out Ita&, nor ™g fo",,^ 

From a small beginning in the world, Catnach las "on 

able o see h,s way clear to amass a fortune. He ad now 

stabhshed hts reputation as a man of enter,Se and hi 

a ;ar2ce""t" '° ""■"'^'" ' ^°« °' shabb -gent 
appearance. It was amusing, especially when over his 

f ^publi % ■" "'''"'' ""= ^^^-' *^ "awf;is"°rd o 
the pubhc. The propnetor of any of our leading journak 
could not have felt prouder than did Catnach, Js'h "at 

ducfons. His staff was never a large one. At ordinary 


times it seldom exceeded four. A gentleman, still a resident 
in Alnwick, informs us that he called upon Catnach in 
Monmouth Court in the latter part of 1830. "I found 
him," he says, "not only to be a humane, but also a very 
benevolent man, and when I parted with him he gave me 
several sums of money, some amounting to ^5, which I 
was to give to several of Jemmy's old friends in Canny 

The accession of Princess Victoria to the Throne of 
England at the death of her uncle, William IV., in June, 
1837, and subsequently her Coronation at Westminster 
Abbey, in June of the next year, set poets of all degrees, 
from St. James's to St. Giles's, at work eulogising the 
" Maiden Queen," and the "Seven Bards of the Seven Dials," 
were not a whit behind their more fortunate and highly- 
favoured brother " paper stainers " in odes and panegyrics 
in all manner of length of stanzas and number of harmonic 
disposition of syllables. All the printers of street literature 
pressed forward, with Catnach well to the front, and street- 
ballad after street-ballad followed in rapid succession. The 
following is entitled — 


WHEN William, the Sailor, belov'd by us all, 
Was brought to his moorings by death ; 
Then ensigns of Britain were struck one and all, 

And a nation sigh'd o'er his last breath. 
But he 's gone ! and as Providence still to provide 

For the good of Old England is seen ; 
An angel is sent o'er fates to preside ; 
And Victoria reigns Albion's Queen. 
Then huzza ! huzza ! 
May the Queen live for ever ! 
The glory, the pride of our land ! 



When Elizabeth guardian of Britain Avas hail'd, 

Not an enemy frown'd on our isle ; 
But her genius and patriot spirit prevail'd 

Over threats that but call'd forth a smile • 
And our Sovereign, Victoria, will equally prove 

1 hat no foe can that armour withstand 

'""wt 'd'r''A"' ^''^"f/-"d by her people's Hrm love, 
Who d defend her with heart and with hand. 
Then huzza ! &c. 

The Royal Queen of Britain's isle, 
Soon will make the people smile, 
Her heart none can the least defile, 

Victoria, Queen of England. 
Although she is of early years. 
She is possessed of tender cares, 
To wipe away the orphan's tears,' 
Now .she is Queen of England 
Chorus~Oi all the flowers in full bloom, 

Adorn'd with beauty and perfume, 
The fairest is the rose in June, 
Victoria, Queen of England. 
From the Lord Mayor : Sir John Cowan, Wax Chandler 
to Her Majesty. 
^/rZ'toria, all hail ! may thy bonny blue eye 
Ne'er with tears o/ dull sorrow be drippin. 
May thy ./.... all increase, and thy country'^ ;W^ 
-tor ever m riches be dipping. 

May you never 7vax warm in debate, my dear Oueen 

Nor care a rush-light for the faction • 
For they who 'd oppose thy wise councils, I ween 

Are taper in thought and in action. 

The Town, Dec. 9, 1837. 



YOU 'VE heard of Sailor Jack, no doubt, 
Who found our good King William out. 
To Windsor Castle, too, he 'd been, 
A visiting the King and Queen. 

Ri tooral, &c. 

Now Jack, who 'd travell'd far away. 
Returned to port the other day. 
He turn"d his bacca o'er and o'er, 
For he found the Sailor King no more. 

Ri tooral, &c. 

" Shiver my timbers ! here 's a breeze ! 
A\'e 've got a woman now to please ; 
So straight to London I must go, 
To see who 's got the craft in tow." 

Ri tooral, &c. 



Then to the palace soon he came — 

He 'd got no card, but sent his name. 

" Go back," said they, " she won't see you ! " 

Said Jack — " No, damme, if I do ! " 

Ri tooral, &c. 

" Stand back, you lubbers ! not see me — 
The friend of his late Majesty?" 
He floor'd them all, sprung o'er the stair, 
And got where the Court assembled were. 

Ri tooral, &c. 

They, in amazement, view'd the scene. 
Says Jack, " I want to see the Queen !" 
When, smiling, seated from afar. 
Says she — "Well, here I am, old tar." 

Ri tooral, &c. 

"All right !" says Jack, on hearing this, 
" I 've come here just to warn you, miss, 
Don't you by courtier sharks be led — 
For, d'ye see, I likes your Figure Head." 

Ri tooral, &c. 

" Don't fear me, Jack — it's true, indeed. 
But I 'm British-born, and take good heed ; 
And if against my peace they strike, 
I '11 give 'em. Jack, what they won't like." 

Ri tooral, itc. 

" Hurrah ! " says Jack, " your Majesty — 
Just like your noble family ! 
You knows what 's what, and I '11 repeat 
What you have said to all the fleet." 

Ri tooral, &c. 


" I like your manners," answered she, 
"An admiral you soon shall be." 
The lords in waiting there, said "No !" 
The Queen — "Why, can't I make him so?" 

Ri tooral, &c. 

" You jealous swabs, what are you at ? 
I knows I am too old for that — 
So one request instead I '11 make, 
Off pigtail you '11 the duty take." 

Ri tooral, &c. 

The Queen, who quite enjoyed the fun, 
Soon promised Jack it should be done, 
Says he, " I 've one thing more, and 'tis 
To ax you how your mother is ? " 

Ri tooral, &c. 

" Why, hark ye. Jack," the Queen replied, 
" The old 'un 's still her country's pride." 
"She is — and if you '11 view my ship," 
Says Jack, "for both I '11 stand some flip." 

Ri tooral, &c. 

Then to his messmates soon he hied, 
" I 've seen her — it 's all right," he cried, 
" I '11 prove to you she 's wide awake — 
She's a trim-built craft, and no mistake." 

Ri tooral, &c. 

They ordered grog to crown the scene, 
And drank — "The Navy and the Queen !" 
Says Jack — " Our toast shall ever be, 
' God bless her gracious Majesty !' " 

Ri tooral, &c. 

rrinted by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 
Cards, Bills, &c., Printed on Low Terms. 

X 2 



I'LL drink " Success to Freedom's cause," 
Where'er it meets my view, 
I '11 drink — " The Church, the State, and Laws, 

The "Tri-colour" and " Blue," 
I '11 drink — " Old England " — she 's our boast, 

What nation 's like her seen ; 
But when I 'm ask'd, be mine the toast — 
" Victoria ! — The Queen ! " 

I '11 drink — "The People," may each heart 

In unity be twin'd. 
And Fortune's smiles bid care depart 

The bosom of mankind. 
I '11 drink — " The Press " — itself a host. 

Since ever it has been ; 
But when I 'm ask'd, be mine the toast— 

"Victoria — The Queen !" 

I '11 drink — " The Ministers that guide 

The helm of our affairs," 
I '11 drink—" The Thistle, Scotland's pride"— 

" The Plough, and its repairs." 
I '11 drink — " The Health of our good host," 

The various healths between ; 
But when I 'm ask'd, be mine the toast — 

" Victoria— The Queen ! " 

Fill the glass, boys, trim it well. 

Then each true Briton to his post, 
With heart and soul in every bowl, 

To pledge old England's boast. 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! ! hurrah ! ! ! 

For Victoria 's ! the Toast. 



Tune — ■''''Jim Crow.''' 

COME all you Britons, high and low, 
And banish grief and care. 
There 's a proclamation issued out, 
" You don't lodge here ! " 


They ran away without delay. 
To the Queen to banish fear, 

But she said, " My chaps, it 's very fine, 
But you don't lodge here." 

There was an Orange merchant. 

As you shall understand. 
So she started him to Hanover, 

To cumber up the land. 

The next, it was a soldier, 

And he wore scarlet clothes. 
So the Queen took up the poker. 

And hit him on the nose. 

The next was Bobby Orange Peel, 

She thought he was a flat. 
In his right hand was a truncheon, 

And in his left a trap. 


The next was Frank, from Wiltshire, 

She put him to the rout, 
She wopp'd him all round Windsor Park, 

And cured him of the gout. 

The next it was a leg of Lamb, 
He thought to make things right. 

Says the Queen, " My lord, it 's very fine, 
But you don't lodge here to-night." 

The next man was from Bedford, 
A little chap that 's never still, 

" You don't lodge here to-night," says she, 
"Till you have burnt the Poor Law Bill." 

There Springed a little man from Cambridge, 
Rice was his name, you know, 

So she made him dance and wheel about. 
And jump Jim Crow. 

The next was Mr. Broomstick, 

With him she play'd a rig, 
She wopp'd him with the Poor Law Bill, 

And choked him with his wig. 

Then up came Dan O'Connell, 
Saying, " I '11 befriend the people," 

With a great shillaly in his hand. 
As big as Salisbury steeple. 

Old women, three hundred and ninety-five, 

To petition her did begin. 
Crying, " Please your gracious Majesty, 

Take the duty off the gin." 

Says the Queen, " To do old women good, 

I '11 strive with great delight ; 
It 's all right Mrs. Ferguson, 

But you don't lodge here to-night." 


Then toddled uj) old Joey Hume, 
Saying " Sufferings I have had many, 

The villains knock'd me all the way 
From Brentford to Kilkenny." 

Says the Queen, " I am going to Brighton, 

So quiet let me be. 
For if you come to trouble me, 

I '11 drown you in the sea. 

" And when I open Parliament, 

Then you '11 find I '11 do enough, 
I '11 take the duty off the tea, 

Tobacco, gin, and snuff. 

" I '11 make some alterations, 

I '11 gain the people's right, 
I will have a Radical Parliament, 

Or, they don't lodge here to-night 

" I must tell both Whigs and Tories, 

Their tricks I do not fear. 
Their sayings all are very fine, 

But they don't lodge here. 

" About the Whigs and Tories, 

There has been a pretty bother, 
I think I '11 give the Devil one 

To run away with the other." 

Birt, Printer, 39, Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials. 
Printing of every description done cheap. 


The next ballad is on the Coronation of her Majesty 
Queen Victoria, 28th June, 1838. 


AROUSE ! arouse ! all Britain's isle, 
This day shall all the nation smile. 
And blessings await on us the while. 
Now she 's crown'd Queen of England. 

Victoria, star of the Brunswick line, 
Long may she like a meteor shine, 

And bless her subjects with a smile, 
Victoria, Queen of England. 

Then let England, Ireland, Scotland join, 
And bless thy name in every clime. 
In unison we all combine 

To hail thee Queen of England. 


Then hail, Victoria ! Royal Maid, 
For it never shall be said, 
Thy subjects ever were afraid 
'Jo guard the Queen of England. 


The Queen's marriage with Prince Albert, loth February, 
1S40, produced another crop of ballads for halls, parlours, 
and the streets. The following punning one, from which we 
select three of the stanzas, was very popular : — 

MANY suitors the Queen 's had — of class, clime and creed, 
But each failed to make an impression, indeed ; 
For, for Albert of Coburg the rest off she packs — 
Thus "giving the /'rt^^each " and keeping the " Saxe !" 
A fortunate fellow is he, all must say. 
And right well his cards he has managed to i)lay ; 
Tlie gatiw he has won, and no wonder, I ween, 
When he play'd "speculation and turned up tlw Qiuvn." 

Our cups to the dregs, &c., &c. 

"Those will now wed who ne'er wedded before. 
Those who always wedded will now wed no more ;" 
Clerks will no time have to lunch, dine, or sup. 
And parsons just now will begin to look up! 
To churches, indeed, this will be a God-send, 
Goldsmiths be selling off rings without end ; 
For now, you '11 not find from castle to cot 
A single man living who married is not ! 

Our cups to tiie dregs, (Sec, &c. 

But hence with all quibbling, for now 1 '11 have done, 

Though all I have said has been purely in fun ; 

May the Queen and the King shine like Venus and ^^ars, 

And \ie^\en preserz'e them without any jars. 

Like Dan?e of old, may we see it plain, 

Till time is no more, these bright sovereigns rain ; 

May pleasure and joy through their lives know no bounds 

So let 's give them a toast, and make it t/tree rounds. 

Our cups to the dregs in a health let us drain. 
And wish them a long and a prosperous reign ; 
Like good loyal subjects in loud chorus sing, 
Victoria's wedding with Albert her King. 




COME, blythe or sad, or with gin half mad, 
I '11 not detain you long, sirs, 
AVhile I relate some affairs of State 

I 've worked into a song, sirs. 
'Twas t' other day, with my "fake away!" 

I in a crowd did mingle. 
When a snob did sing, " God save the King, 
The Keveen vill not live single !" 


Prince Halbert 's come from Germanii 

For to change his sitivation ; 
Then may the House of Hanover last 

For many a generation. 


Spoken — Well, do you know, Mrs. Tomkins, hour little Keveen, 'eaven 
bless her seveet face ! — has the nicest taste as ivcr I knowed. Well, I 
never, if she hasn't chuz for her husband the comeliest youth you 'd 
meet in a 'ole day's walk. Oh, crikey ! you only go take a sqevint at 
his likeness in the picter-shops. I 'm blest if 'e a'nt got the seveetest 
lookin' heyes, the bussabelest lips, the roundest chin, and bloominest 
cheeks, and the reapin' hookinest Romian nose I ever seed upon a man. 
My heyes ! vot a race of little kings and keveens ve shall 'ave. Oh, 
bless the little 'arts of the dear little hangels ! I 'm told, Mrs. Knowall, 
she 'ad hall the great dooks hand princes of Europe — 'ad hour dear 
little keveen, makin' love to her, and trj'ing to come round her. You 
may well say that, Mrs. Tomkins ; there vos the Count of Stras/^w^ — 
the Prince of ^'xXXtx^biig — the 'Al of 'Am/w_f>-^the Dook of 'Um/w^', 
and that dear fellow, Halbert of Cobug, but hout of them hall, she 
fixes 'er heyes upon Halbert of Coii/g, an' sings hout — "There's the 
man for my money ! " 

In the council there the Keveen did swear, 

" Prince Hal, my German cousin — 
Stop, Mel. [bourne] I pray — you 're much too grey, 

I 'd choose out of fifty dozen. 
It don't suit me to singular be. 

These cold nights lying alone, sirs. 
Pray, where 's my fan ? In short, he 's the man 

To share Victoria's throne, sirs ! " 

Spoken — Oh, tunder an' ages, Mrs. Thumpkin's ! may be St. Giles's 
won't be alive the day the Queen's married ! I 'm tould the prince has 
promised for to sind a shipful of harrins, tin cart loads of muiphies, 
Crtrman sassages widout ind, an' a full kevotten, imparial mizzur — av 
the pure craytur, to iviry mother's son av us, that we will all toast his 
most gracious majesty's imparial highness's health, and may he live a 
thousand years after he 's dead and buried ! and may they be surrounded 
to all etarnity wid a score or more av her princes and princeasses, to 
the honour and glory av the queen, long life to her ! And here 's good 
luck till the pair av them, say I, Mrs. Flaherty — Dan O'Conncll, Prince 
Albert, and Erin-go-bragh ! Amin, sweet vargin ! 

Och, may be all Ireland won't rejoice, 
The day our Queen is married. 


And many a lass will tipple the glass, 

And say — " Too long I 've tarried." 
The day she weds, faith ! nuptial beds 

Will swarm in exuberance glorious ; 
The hint they will take, and loyally make 

Young Alberts and Victorias ! 

Spoken — Weel, I 'm oot-an'-oot puzzlit to mak' it oot hoo they maw- 
nages rile meeridges. I sispecks it 's a' done by protocolin, an' deeplo- 
mawtic ceercumveention. But this Albert 's a braw bairn, if he 's only 
lak till his lakness, ah' if there 's jeest eneuch o' saxpences distreebited, 
I 'm sure I '11 be setisfied. I trist the rile boonty '11 fa' doon upon us 
a' in showers o' siller. I 've Tieerd tell — thof I dinna ken whather it 
'11 be geenuine or no^there '11 be a bullick roasted whole in Clare- 
mawrket, an' anither in Smathfiel', wi' lots o' pegs, an' ither powltry, 
an' a' the streets is to be paved that day wi' reedy-fried polonies. An' 
I 'm sure I dinna care to fash mysel' aboot it, if there 's onny planty o' 
sma' still Heeland whosky, an' a feestfu' o' sa.\pences for eveij puir 
bodie like mysel', that 's scant o' cash. 

Knees firmly built 'neath Highland kilt. 

That day shall charm each vrow, sir. 
Each canny Scot shall pay his shot 

By stripping off his trousers ; 
And shanks, I ween, shall then be seen, 

With loyalty to bristle — 
If whoskey bathes the shamrock green, 

I' faith 'twill drown the thistle. 

Spoken — Py G — t ! it shall pring town a plessing on the brincibality. 
If a poy shall be porn, shall it not be christened Brince of Wales ? If 
a peautiful girl, shall she not be brincess of the same ? Leeks shall 
flourish on that tay, and be eaten with the pest of peef. May all their 
poys be like Harry of Monmouth, that pest of England's kings ! May 
they have blenty of prains, and pe pig poys too, and goot ! May the face 
of a Chartist be never more seen in Wales. If I caught one now, I 'd 
plow out his prains py a plundeV puss. Leeks for ever ! and when a 
brince is porn, I peg and bray that none of us may want, either in 
mouse or pelly. 


Long live the Queen, with joyous mien, 

On Albert smiling blandly, 
Through England may their wedding day 

Be celebrated grandly. 
That forehead fair — oh, may it ne'er 

Be wrinkled with a frown, sirs, 
And may the pair have soon a heir 

To wear old England's crowh, sirs. 

Printed and Published by John Duncombe «S; Co., 
10, Middle Row, Ilolbom. 


Unfurl the banners to the breeze, 

And bid the cannon roar. 
Let Britain, mistress of the seas. 

Her loudest plaudits pour ; 
From shore to shore the shout shall run, 

Upborn upon the tide, 
To welcome with the morrow's sun, 

Old England's Royal bride. 


May ever blessings o'er thee smile 
Most happy Queen of England's Isle, 

When at the altar thou 
To him who' owns thy heart and hand, 
Fair monarch of a fayour'd land. 

Perform thy nuptial vow. 



WE 'RE met round the board, and pleasures light up 
The eye that day's cares have been dimming ! 
And friendship invites us to drink of the cup 
In bumpers as bright as they 're brimming ! 
A toast I '11 propose, and man never rose 
With feelings more glad to express 'em, 
Then pass round the wine, I '11 give you with mine, 
" The Queen and Prince Albert, God bless 'em 1 '* 

We 're met round the board, and while each man grows warm , 

And sinks party feeling and quarrel, 
So bind round our crown, we '11 a triple wreath form 

Of vine-leaf, myrtle, and laurel ! 
May joy light their way to life's latest day, 

A nation's smiles have to caress 'em — 
Then pass round the wine, I '11 give you with mine, 

" The Queen and Prince Albert, God bless 'em ! " 

We 're met round the board, and let 's hope as time runs, 

Should foemen compel us to slaughter, 
A sample of our age I '11 show to our sons. 

And she of sweet peace to our daughters ! 
The loving, the brave, quite ready to save, 

Our birthright, our wrongs to redress 'em ! 
Then pass round the wine, I '11 give you with mine, 

" The Queen and Prince Albert, God bless 'em ! " 



Tunc — The King of the Cannibal Islands. 

OH, here I am, both fair and young, 
A maiden scarcely twenty-one, 
And a German Prince before 'tis long. 

Will marry the Queen of England. 
He is my fancy, I declare, 
A buxom youth as you shall hear, 
All hardships for him I will bear, 
He is worth one hundred pounds a-year ; 
My German Prince I will nobly treat. 
And feed him with good pudding and beef, 
I will put new shoes upon his feet. 

When he marries the Queen of England. 


Don't ax 'em, tax 'em, merrily be. 

Sausages and skillygolee, 

Won't Prince Albert have a spree. 

When he marries the Queen of England ? 

The other day, with good intent, 
Victoria went to Parliament, 
Saying, " I have for Prince Albert sent, 
To marry the Queen of England." 


And now, my Lords and Gentlemen, 
Attend to what I say, and then 
I am going to marry, you may depend, 
And you must your assistance lend, 
To grant my Albert young and fair 
(Deny it you will not dare). 
One hundred thousand pounds a-year. 
When he marries the Queen of England. 
Don't ax 'em, &c. 

My Albert he is handsome made, 
A sausage-maker by his trade. 
No one shall ever him degrade, 

When he marries the Queen of England. 
I have sent my servants off", you see, 
Unto the land of Germany, 
To fetch Prince Albert home to me, 
, And when he comes I will happy be. 
Soon as he lands on Britain's Isle, 
I '11 tog him out in such a style. 
With a shirt and a four-and-ninepenny tile. 

When he marries the Queen of England. 
Don't ax 'em, &c. 

I will my loving Albert treat 

With a handsome dandy coat so neat. 

And a pair of breeches from Monmouth Street, 

When he marries the Queen of England. 
If I don't get married I will kick up a row, 
I am in a comical way, I vow ; 
O, dear, I feel — I can't tell how, 
The marriage fit comes on me now ; 
It is Prince Albert I adore, 
And I am rich if he is poor — 
No one in the world but him, I 'm sure, 

Shall marry the Queen of England. 

Don't ax 'em, &c. 


I can make my husband's family thrive, 

I have thousands three hundred and ninety-five, 

I will make my German Prince alive, 

When he marries the Queen of England. 
Oh, when that he has married me, 
In a very short time you sure will see, 
If with John Bull he can agree, 
He '11 be able to buy all Germany ; 
My mother she has often said, 
'Tis a burning shame to die a maid, 
Prince Albert, I am not afraid, 

Will marry the Queen of England. 

Don't ax 'em, &c. 

I have found a husband to my mind. 
And I will be a wife so kind — 
You must for him some ;noney find 

When he marries the Queen of England. 
I have a little cash in store, 
But none to spare, I 'm certain sure, 
And when I 'm married I shall want some more, 
As my intended is very poor. 
If short of cash, then tax away, 
Salt and pepper, curds and whey — 
O, won't young Albert sport and play 

When he marries the Queen of England. 

Printed by John Duncombe & Co., 10, Middle Row, Holborn. 


I. FT the merry bells be ringing. 
Let the jocund music play — 

r,et the nation's voice be singing, 
'Tis Victoria's wedding day. 




Air. — '■'■Here's a health bonnie Scotland to thee." 

HERE '.S a health to Victoria, the Pride of our land, 
Bright hope-star of Albion's Isle ; 
All will answer the summons, with heart and with hand, 

And welcome thy name with a smile. 
Green Erin shall dash the sad tears from her brow, 

And shout from the lakes in her glee, 
And Scotland come down from her Mountains of snow 
With a blessing, dear Princess, to thee. 

Here 's a health to Victoria, the pride of our land, 
Bright hope-star of Albion's Isle, 

All will answer the summons, with heart and with hand. 
And welcome thy name with a smile. 

To Prince Albert a health ! Who will not, with acclaim, 

Quaff a cup to the choice of the Queen ? 
The young children, too, be they worthy the name, 

And that worth "keep their memory green." 
Let our wars e'er be just, and our navies ride free. 

With honour all over the wide main. 
Here 's the Press, pure, untaxed, as all knowledge should be — 

Come, with three cheers, pledge a bumper again. 

Here 's a health to Victoria, iS:c. 

'Tis our festive night now, and each heart wakens up 

To the joy-stirring sound of good cheer, 
Be the healths we now quaff o'er brimming wine cup 

Like heart-vows, held fervent and dear. 
Victoria, the Queen ! like a beautiful flower, 

May thy virtues so gently unclose. 
May we hail thee, as now, in life's latest hour, 

Queen of hearts, and our own British Rose. 

Here 's a health to Victoria, &c. 




YOUNG and old pray attend, 
To these lines I have pcnn'd, 
To amuse you I am going to try, 
About England's Queen, 
"W'ho long single has been, 
But a husband 's now got in her eye. 

Prince Albert 's the man 
Who will dp what he can — 
That he '11 please her will quickly be seen ; 
He is now on his passage 
\\'ith a cargo of sausage, 
As a dowry for our young Queen. 

Now on Saturday last, 

Being neither feast nor a fast, 
The Queen called a Council, they say, 

When she enter'd the room. 

She gave a loud groan. 
And very near fainted away. 


Melbourne rose and looked blue, 
Saying, " What 's here to do, 
That our Queen does so sigh and moan?" 
" But," says Nosey, quite pat, 
" I now smell a rat, 
She is tired of laying alone." 

Says the Queen " Duke, you are right, 

I am dreaming each night 
Of Prince Albert, of the famed German nation- 

And as my cousins before, 

Have had Germans by score, 
I '11 enjoy the same recreation. 

" So John Bull he may laugh, 

And the Radicals chaff, 
For Prince Albert to me is a treat — 

Him I '11 have in a crack, 

With no shirt to his back, 
Or stockings or shoes to his feet. 

" Now there's Portugal's Queen, 

Who is just turned nineteen. 
Two husbands she' s had, it is known — 

To his country's joy. 

She has a beautiful boy — 
A heir unto Portugal's throne. 

" And just over the main. 
There 's the young Queen of Spain, 

Who for playthings ought to be crying — 
And though only ten. 
She winks at the men, 

And for a husband she soon will be trying. 


" There 's the boasted Queen Bess, 

Must have been in the mess, 
On a dark winter's night was afraid — 

Though often she sighed 

For Essex, her pride, 
But I am told she died an old maid. 

" I should lose the blessing of life, 

If I am not made a wife — 
My mother has oft said the same — 

Soon you I will call. 

Privy councillors all, 
For to die an old maid is a shame." 

Says a councillor grave, 
" My leige you shall have 
A husband, who will you be greeting — 

So for Albert quick send, 

And bid him attend. 
We'll examine him this present meeting." 

Then Albert came in 

With a bow and a grin, 
And speaking with humble submission — 
" Good gentlemen all, 

What for me you call?" 
'Why, to give you a colonel's commission." 

" If she has you for a mate. 

What is your estate ? 

And what cash have you got in your banks ? 

Now if that is your best, 

You are queerly drest, 

And badly shod is your shanks." 


" Oh, my togs have been tried, 

But I have family pride. 
And a 'garden of crout and fine cabbages- 

And I can bring to you, 

And that annually, too, 
A ship load of fine German sausages." 

Then the Queen she arose, 

Crying, " Don't speak of his clothes. 
But give me a partner for life. 

My lords, don't dispute 

About his ragged suit, 
Yox I wish to be made Albert's wife. 

" Shall it ever be said 
England's Queen died an old maid ? 

Let your council forbid it, I pray — 
To the nation's great joy, 
They shall have a fine boy, 

Aye, in less than nine months and a day." 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, IMonmoulh Court, 7 Dials. The Largest Stock 
of Songs, Old and New, in the 'I'rade. 


The license enjoyed by the Court jesters, and, in some 
resjjects by the minstrels of old, is certainly enjoyed, undi- 
minished, by the street-writers and singers of " Ballads on a 
Subject." They are aspiring satirists who, with a rare impar- 
tiality, lash all classes and creeds, as well as any individual. 
" One man, upon whose information I can rely," writes Mr. 
Henry Mayhew, " told me that he himself had ' worked,' in 
town and country, twenty-three different songs on the marriage 
of the Queen. They all ' sold,' but the most profitable was 
one commencing : — 

" ' Here I am in rags. 

From the land of all dirt. 
To marry England's Queen, 

And my name it is Prince Albert.' 

' And what's more, sir,' continued the ballad-singer, ' not 
long after the honeymoon a duchess drove up in her carriage 
to the printers, and bought all the songs in honour of Vic- 
toria's wedding, and gave a sovereign for them, and wouldn't 
take the change, and didn't the printer, like an honest man, 
when he 'd stopped the price of the papers, hand to us chaps 
the balance to drink, and didn't we drink it ! There can't 
be a mistake about that.' " 

The Queen was now married to the husband of her choice. 
*' It is that," said Lord Melbourne to her, "which makes 
your Majesty's marriage so popular, as they know it isy not 
for State reasons." A few months after- the wedding-day, 
the Prince wrote to an old college associate — " 1 am very 
happy and contented." After the wedding, the young 
couple stayed for four days at Windsor, reading, riding, 
walking together, and giving small dinner parties in the 
evening. They then returned to Buckingham Palace, where 
a large crowd had collected to welcome them, and fairly 
commenced the common duties of their married life. At 
first it would appear that jealousies, in (quarters which need 


not be specified, prevented the Prince taking his proper 
position as the head of his home and household. He wrote 
to his friend, Prince Lowenstein, in May, 1840—" I am only 
the husband, not the master of the house." But the com- 
mon sense of the Queen, and the dignity of the Prince 
soon set this matter to rights. When urged that she, as 
being Sovereign, must be the head of the house, she quietly 
rejoined that she had sworn to obey, as well as love and 
honour her husband, and that she was determined to keep 
all her bridal troth. She communicated all foreign des- 
patches to him, and frequently he made annotatfons on 
them, which were communicated to the Minister whose 
department they affected. He had often the satisfaction of 
discovering that the Minister, though he might say nothing 
on the subject, nevertheless acted upon his suggestions^ 
His correspondence to Germany soon bore a very different 
tone and complexion. To use his own words, and slightly 
expand them, he " endeavoured to be of as much use to 
Victoria as possible." The Queen now, having received 
the approval of the Duke of Wellington, whom she con- 
sulted as a confidential friend, for the first time put her 
husband in his proper place, by giving him, by Royal Letters 
Patent, to which Parliamentary sanction is not required, 
rank and precedence next to herself, except in Parliament 
and the Privy Council. 

Frequent levees, and " dinners followed by little dances," 
formed the chief amusements of the young couple in the 
earliest stage of their married life. They went much, too, 
to the pla};, both having an especial relish for and admira- 
tion of Shakespeare. The Queen, although now a married 
woman, by no means neglected useful or solacing and 
refining studies. She took singing lessons from Lablache, 
and frequently sang and played with the Prince, sometimes 
using the piano, sometimes the organ as accompaniment. 
They went to Claremont, the Queen's favourite youthful 


haunt, to celebrate her birthday, and continued to do so, 
even after the purchase of, Osborne. Both Queen and Prince 
Were extremely glad to get away from the smoke and grime 
of London ; in fact, these constituted a peculiar source of 
physical oppression to both, and they were always glad to 
retire to the rural quiet and seclusion of Claremont. 

The first alarming incident of the Queen's wedded life 
occurred on the loth of June, 1840. In her first early days 
of maiden Queenhood, she had been annoyed by madmen 
wanting to marry her. On more than one occasion her 
saddle horse was attempted to be stopped in the Park by 
one of such maniacs, as she was attended by an equerry ; 
and in two or three instances similar attempts were made by 
innocent lunatics to force their way into ^Vindsor Castle, in 
each case armed with nothing more deadly than a proposal 
of marriage : — notably was the " Boy Jones," in respect to 
whom there was a street-saying much in vogue, of " That 
Boy Jones again," which was used to cover or account for 
all petty delinquencies in public or domestic life. 

The " Boy Jones," like a Lord Byron before him, 
" awoke one morning and found himself famous," and 
rather liked it, for all England rang with his name and 
fame; he was written up — and down — by ballad-mongers, 
newspaper and magazine contributors ; while from the cheap 
and nasty presses of E. Lloyd, 62, Broad Street, Bloomsbury 
^a fellow who published pirated editions of Charles 
Dickens's early works, in penny numbers, as " Penny 
Pickwick," by " Bos," " Oliver Twiss," by " Bos," &c., &c. ; 
I leave. Shoe Lane ; Hetherington and Marks, of Long 
Lane. There was issued a vast quantity of squibs and 
cartoons for street sale of " Her Majesty's Chimney 
Sweep," "The Royal Sooter" "The Buckingham Palace 
Hero," "The Royal Flue Faker," &c. 




Tunc—'' The Very Identical Flute." 

"X/^OU have heard of the chap that they found t'other day 

J- In Buckingham Palace, I tell you the truth — 
'Twas in the next chamber to where the Queen lay, 

They found me, this very identical youth. 
At first, they all thought I had come there to plunder. 

But I had no notion of stealing, not I — 
Pages, nurses, and officers, pulled me from under 
The very identical couch where she lay. 

Ri tol, &c. 

Prince Albert, you all know, is in a decline, sirs, 

And the young Queen must look out again, it is clear- 
So I wanted to ask her if she would be mine, sirs, 

I should like the identical thousands a-year. 
Now what do you think, just to shorten my tail, sirs, 

They called me a madman, and what is worse still. 
For my second appearance refused to take bail. 

But sent me to tread the identical mill. 

Ri tol, &c. 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Diali 
of Ballads are continually on si^le. 

where all sorts 


But what we are about to narrate was a much more 
srrious matter. A youth named Edward Oxford, some 
so\cnteen or eighteen years of age, either a fool or a 
madman, fired two pistol-shots at her, as she and her 
husband were driving in a phieton up Constitution Hill. 
He was at once arrested, and it being imposiiible to assign 
any conceivable cause for the act, he was declared insane, 
and doomed to incarceration for life. Neither the Queen 
nor the Prince were injured, and both showed the utmost 

Perhaps the best proof of her bravery on the occasion of 
til is outrage, as it was an unquestionable proof of her 
tenderness of heart, was the fact that within a minute or 
two after the shot of Oxford had been fired, she had the 
'■'ises' heads turned towards her mother's house, that her 
ther should see her sound and uninjured, ere an 
^ xaggerated or indiscreetly communicated report of the 
CM currence could reach her. Immediately after, she drove 
to Hyde Park, whither she had been proceeding before the 
outrage occurred, to take her usual drive before dinner. 
An immense concourse of persons of all ranks and both 
scxes had assembled, and the enthusiasm of her reception 
almost overpowered her. Prince Albert's face, alternately 
pale and flushed, betrayed the strength of his emotions. 
They returned to Buckingham Palace attended by a most 
magnificent escort of the rank and beauty of London, on 
' "Tseback and in carriages. A great crowd of a humbler 

; t was at the Palace gates to greet her, and it was said 
L ,at she did not lose her composure until a flood of tears 
relieved her pent-up excitement in her own chamber. 
■■ ("lod save the Queen " was demanded at all the theatres 
in the evening, and in the immediately succeeding days the 
' 'Mcen received, seated on her throne, loyal and con- 

aulatory addresses from the Peers in their robes, and 
..^arin^; all their decorations ; from the Commons, from the 


City Corporation, and many other public bodies, and caused 
a profound sensation among all classes of society in the ^ 
British dominions, and many street papers were published 
on the subject 


OGOD ! whose mighty power alone 
Can ward the traitor's blow — 
To thee a nation's praise is given, 

To Thee the myriads bow. 
We bless thee ; and our prayer shall be, 
hSi Britons' prayers have been. 
" From secret foe and dastard blow, 
O God, preserve the Queen ! " 

Without thy aid our love is vain ; 

Thy providence we crave — 
One reckless hand may take the life, 

Which millions cannot save. 
When crime or folly fain would strike, 

Do thou still intervene, , 
And for our country's sake, we pray, 

O God, preserve the Queen ! 

Guard her domestic peace — protect 
The partner of her love ; 

And may their coming years be crowned 
With blessings from above. 

Give them long life, and health and strength- 
True hearts and minds serene — 

His prayer and ours alike shall be, 
O (jod, preserve the Queen ! 


O, GRANT our earnest j)rayer, 
Smile on the Royal pair, 

Bless Prince and Queen ! 
May Albert's name be dear 
To every Briton's ear, 
The peasant and the peer — 
God save the Queen. 


aOD saved the Queen ! the young and good 
Sheds love around her bright and far. 
Joy — ^joy ! that no dark stain of blood 

Hath dimm'd her star — 
That crime grew palsied by a throne, 

Where virtue's spirit sits serene, 
And while heav'n watch'd above its own, 
God saved the Queen ! 

God saved the Queen ! the happy light 

Of marriage bliss was on her brow. 
Still in her heart the young delight 

Dwells sweetly now. 
The transport of a people's joy 

At its unfading, wild is seen ; 
For blessed in its un-alloy — 

God saved the Queen ! 

God saved the Queen ! all thoughts apart, 

The crowning joy fills every mind ! 
She sits within the nation's heart, 

An Angel shrined ! 
There, very happiness to lure, 

To light it yet with glory's sheen — 
To glad the rich, to bless the poor — 

God saved the Queen ! 




And A 


/// A't'ioport Mar- 
ket Yesterday. 

BUTCHER.-We]l, Mr. Mackerel, pray let me ask you how you come 

1^7^:^^'''- --^ ^'-- -^- ^-'^ -- - s^;r:. 

Mackerel -That my company is not ngi-eeable to many such n. 
you I very we 1 know ; but here I am, and wUI keep my ,"ace'in ti 
of you. Don't th,nk to frighten n.e with your loft/lool . Mr. G. e 
sil of ;oV' '° '"^ ^"""' '""" ^'"'- ^^"^ ^--'' -^ I -" 1- in 
Wh:t;""eVor;om:r "^ '^^ -^o^) 
MACKERKL.-I and thousands of my brethren are come to town fo, 
he sole good of the mdustrious poor. We will soon pull down yo pnces, your przde and consequence, and Melt your fat off yo 
overgrown Carcass. I am their sworn friend, and although Jou'a 
bl„.g off your ongue with vexation, yet I am detennined they h' 
have a cheap Meal-good, sweet, and wholesome-put that n you 
pipe and smoke it. ' ui.u in jour 

BLncHER.-Aye aye. You arc a sancy set, confound you altoeether 

mIcke'r L ; ^' ?rl '-''' '" ^^'^"'^ '' ^'^"^ Cisagleeable frib 
MACKEREL -I would advise you, Mr. Green, not to show your teeth 
when you can't b.te. Millions of my friends are on their way to town 
o make the poor rejo.ce. We have had a fine seed time, eLy h ne 
ooks prom,s,ng. Meat must and will come down. The poor wU ing 
for joy, and you nuay go hang yourself in your garters. ^ 

Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court 
Cards, Bills, &c., Printed on Low Terms. 

See " Hugo's Bewick Collector," Supplement, 

p. 219. 


There was a personage styled " Dando," who acquired a 
very unenviable name and fame as the " Oystsr-Eater ;" his 
NUhiiis operandi was to visit hotels and eating-houses, in 
general, but oyster shojis or stalls, in ])articular, when, after 
lie had eaten to repletion, or had swallowed the last oyster 
to be had in the establishment, he would tell the proprietor 
that he might whistle for his money, and that his name was 
"Dando." "What! Dando, the oyster-eater?" would be 
the reply. "Yes; I'm Dando, the oyster-eater; I've no 
money, but you may kick me, bite me, orpunch me, if you 
like ; or, if you prefer the bother and anxiety of attending 
tlie police-court, you can give me into custody." Frequently 
ii happened that his victims were very poor shop, or stall- 
keepers, and he would, in the most remorseless manner 
])ossible, devour the whole of their stock-in-trade. He was 
several times sent to gaol, but at the expiration of his term 
of imprisonment, he returned to the town with increased 
aijpetite, and immediately commenced his victimising 
propensities, and so continued until the day of his death, 
ich took place in Clerkenwell prison. He furnished the 
undwork for a time serving farce, by Stirling, entitled, 
'■ Dandolo ; or, the last of the Doges^^ produced in 1838, 
at the New City, alias Norton Folgate Theatre, under the 
management of Mr. Cockerton, in which that merry son 
of MofJius, Sam Vale, played the gormandizing oyster-eater 
with great gusto. Following is one of the very many street- 
ballads published at the time ; while " Dando astonishing 
tlie Natives," formed the subject for several of the comic 
caricatures of the penny plain and two-pence coloured 
^' liool, then so much in vogue, and published for the trade 
1 > the houses of Fairburn, Hodgson, Skelt, Parks, and 


The celebrated Oystej- Glutton. 

TH E March of Intellect announces 
That some live on the march of bounces : 
So, as botincing now is quite the thing, 
A bounceable song I '11 try to sing. 
Some bounce about, with kicks and blows, 
And some get funch^d upon the nose ; 
But that 's here nor there — there once did dwell 
Dando, the bouncing seedy swell — 

So shickery, trickery, rum tum bawl. 
Sponging and lounging on victims all ; 
Death collar'd Dan in Clerkenwell — 
Dando, the botrnctng seedy swell. 

Dando, he had Long-Acre limbs, 
And many victiiiii-Jng whims. 
An old white hat slouch'd over his eyes, 
And a.Jloundcr mouth for mutton lies. 
His coat was rusty, hole-y and fat. 
His hair was like an old door-mat ; 
He stepp'd out lofty in Pell Mell — 
Dando, the bouncing seedy swell. 
So shicker)', &c. 

His Sunday dress went up the spout ; 
His shoes let water in and out ; 
His stockings, too, seem'd in despair — 
Dike port-holes, they let in fresh air. 
For prisons he 'd not care a pin. 
He was 7to sooner out than in. 
For something good he 'd always smell — 
Dando, the bouncing seedy swell. 
So shickery, &c. 

One day he walk'd up to an oyster still, 
To punish the natives, large and small ; 
Just tliirty dozeti he managed to bite. 
With ten penny loaves — what an appetite ! 
Rut when he had done, without saying good day, 
He bolted off, scot free, away ; 
He savag'd the oysters, and left the shell — 
Dando, the bouncing seedy swell. 
So shickerj', «fec. 



He once went into a tavern so sly : 
Two ducks he devoui'd, and six plates of pie, 
A large leg of mutton, and part of a trout. 
Two bottles of sherry, and then he walked out ; 
P5ut when he was stopp'd, says he, with a groan, 
"Yon cannot, you know, get blood from a stone. 
To live on the bounce why he did very well — 
Dando, the bouncing seedy swell. 
So shickery, &c. 

Dando, he 's gone ; alas ! poor Dan ! 
He '11 go no more in the rolue-7'an ; 
But Dando's name fills some with dread — 
T think he was born in an oyster bed. 
Dando, he 's gone Xo feed the ■worms. 
With him they '11 live on very good terms. 
So Dando oysters the folks can sell — 
Dando, the bouncing seedy swell. 
So shickery, &c. 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 anJ 3, Monmouth Court, 7 



The whole metropoHs of London, on the 26th of May, 
1838, was startled and horrified by the discovery of the 
murdered body of Eliza Grimwood, a remarkably handsome 
young woman, one of the gay belles of London of that 
period. She was found, terribly mutilated, lying on the floor 
in a house of ill-fame at No. 12, Wellington Terrace, Water- 
loo Road, near to a district then largely inhabited by that 
unfortunate class. At the inquest, held at the York Tavern, 
before Mr. Carter, it was elicited that the unfortunate woman, 
who was about twenty-five years of age, lived with George 
Hubbard, a bricklayer, and a married man. He had not, 
however, lived with his wife for twelve years, and six years 
since he had seen her. He had cohabited with the deceased 
for ten years, ever since she was about fifteen, and she was his 
first cousin and knew that he was a married man. The 
deceased went out of an evening to the various theatres for 
the purpose of forming the acquaintance of gentlemen to 
bring home and pass the night with her, and by this means 
she not only maintained herself, but also assisted her 
paramour, who used to sleep in an upper room. 

Mary Fisher deposed that she was servant at the house 
in question, and in the service of William Hubbard, who 
kept the house. She had lived there two years. Her master 
came home on Friday night, about six o'clock, and after 
having had his supper retired to bed, between eight and 
nine o'clock, and she did not see him again till the next 
morning. The deceased went out after Hubbard had gone 
to bed, and she returned home at about one in the morning 
with a strange man. She opened the door for them, and the 
strange man, who was behind the deceased on entering, 
shut it after him, so that witness had not an opportunity of 
seeing distinctly who he was. Deceased came down into the 
kitchen and then told her she could go to bed. She did so, 
and did not hear any noise during the night. In the morn- 
ing Hubbard came down and awoke her, and told her of the 


murder. Hubbard and the deceased, on the whole, Hved 
on very good terms, and did not quarrel very often. She 
had no reason to believe that her master was concerned in 
the murder of the deceased. Before she opened the street 
door to let her mistress in, when she last entered the house, 
she heard a cab come up to the door, and therefore believed 
that she came home in a cab. 

Inspector Field, of the L Division, deposed that he had 
made every search for the instrument with which the murder 
was committed, but had failed to find it. From inquiries 
he had made, he had ascertained that the deceased, on the 
Friday night, had been to the Strand Theatre, and that on 
leaving a gentleman pulled her arm, and they both got into 
a cab together. 

The Superintendent of the Police asked the Coroner 
whether Hubbard ought to be detained in custody. 

The Coroner replied that the police might take what 
course they thought proper. He did not think there was 
evidence enough to warrant his detention, and he should 
therefore not make any order. The inquiry was then 

After several adjournments, the jury said they could not 
believe most of the witnesses that had been brought forth 
by the police. 

The Coroner then summed up the evidence. He said he 
considered that Hubbard had maintained the statement 
throughout, and that statement had been borne out by the 
other inmates of the house. The only point which had 
raised suspicion in his mind at first was the fact that it was 
once thought the chamber utensil had been removed, but it 
had just transpired that one of the policemen saw it there 
wlien he entered the room, so that point was set at rest. 
The theory, which was to him the most clear, was, that as 
the deceased was murdered in her own room, and that as 
she had all her clothes on but her gown, it showed that the 

z 2 


monster who accompanied her home did not intend to stay 
long. He then probably intended to leave the house with- 
out paying her, and that she then endeavoured to prevent 
him. He then turned round and struck her with something 
at the back of the neck, which rendered her senseless, and 
finally finished by cutting her throat. That the monster 
wore a cloak had been proved. It had also been shown 
that he had just such a weapon as would have produced the 
injuries found upon her. In reference to there being no 
blood found on the street-door handle, he thought it was 
very probable that the assassin wiped his hands on the nap- 
kin found under deceased's head. Or he might have put 
on gloves to let himself out, or have laid hold of the door- 
handle with his cloak. He thought the fact of the candle- 
stick being found on the door-mat strengthened his theory, 
and showed that he had taken it there to let himself out 

The jury then retired, and after a long deliberation re- 
turned with a verdict: "That, having examined the evidence 
adduced in the case, we are satisfied that no charge has 
been establisedh against any person or persons : and under 
such circumstances we return a verdict of wilful murder 
against some person or persons unknown." 

The number of letters sent anonymously by persons to 
the police and coroners is one of the most remarkable 
features of the public excitement in murder cases. Some 
of them are written with the evident honest intention of 
making valuable suggestions for the detection of criminals. 
A large portion are evidently written by monomaniacs, who 
evidently fancy they have been in some way connected with 
the murder. Many of these persons are frequently traced 
out and found to be really of unsound mind, and ought 
properly to be in a lunatic asylum. Other letters are 
written for sheer mischief, and come from that senseless, 
half-educated class of idle louts who cannot see that, 


however good a lively joke may be in its proper place, it is 
exceedingly ill-mannered and mischievous, and calculated 
to frustrate the ends of justice when so great a crime has 
been committed as that of taking the life of an unfortunate 
fellow-being. The Coroner ordered all the letters to be 
retained, and Hubbard to be liberated. 

So great was the excitement in the ^^'aterloo Road and all 
over the metropolis, that a public meeting was afterwards 
held, at which it was resolved to offer a reward of fifty 
pounds for the apprehension of the murderer, and also to 
memorialise the Secretary of State to offer a still further sum. 

On the Sunday following, a letter, signed " John Waters 
Cavendish, Goswell Street," was received by the Coroner at 
his house, in which the writer stated "that he was the person 
who accompanied Eliza Grimwood home, and that whilst 
in her room, Hubbard came downstairs and assaulted them 
both, and that a general scuffle ensued, and that he then 
took up the candlestick and let himself out. They would 
find a pair of black gloves in the place, which he left behind." 

In consequence of this, and also because Hubbard left 
his house, and first went to sleep at his mother's, and then 
at his sister's. Inspector Field thought he had better make 
sure of his not escaping, and so took him into custody. 

Finally, the inquiry ended without any satisfactory results, 
and Hubbard was discharged. 

^ The furniture and effects of the deceased were afterwards 

sold by auction. Her brother took possession of the things, 

and instructed the auctioneer. Hubbard threatened him 

' -'h an action if he dared to sell them. The auctioneer, 

ever, proceeded. The furniture realised j[,(iA\ her 

h and jewellery ;^8o ; she had saved ^320 in the 

Migs' bank, and insured her life for ^300 in the Norwich 

on Life Assurance Office. 

11 the meantime Eliza Grimwood's bi:other, who ad- 
iniiustered to the property, met with an accident, by which 



he broke three of his ribs. He had to lay by in hospital, 
but while there Hubbard obtained admission to his bed-side, 
and behaved so violently that an appeal had to be made to 
the magistrates to request the authorities of the hospital 
not to admit him. 

The Coroner, however, and magistrates having expressed 
an opinion that there was no evidence against him, he 
resumed his place in society again. 

/. / MES CA TNA CI/. 343 

The " Forfarshire " steamer, on its passage from Hull to 
Dundee, on September 6th, 1838, was wrecked in a violent 
gale, and thirty-eight persons out of fifty-three perished. 
The Outer Fern Isle Lighthouse-keeper, James, and his 
heroic daughter 

C.KACE Darlinc;, 
ventured out in a coble on the overwhelming billows to 
save her fellow-creatures' lives, or perish in the courageous 
effort. The circumstance caused many street-ballads to be 
written and sold, not only in the metropolis but in every 
town, nook, and cranny of Cireat Britain. 


Sn IHrmortam 



Who departed this life, 

OCTOBER 20, 1842, 








On the afternoon of the 21st of November, the country 
was gladdened by the birth of the Queen's first-born, the 
Princess Royal, now Crown Princess of Prussia. The 
event occurred considerably before the period anticpated 
by the Queen's medical and other attendants, and pre- 
parations had to be made in a hurry ; nevertheless, the news 
was received with joy by the nation, and removed many 
doubts that had been freely entertained by the gossips and 
sage-femme of the period, and a ballad states that : — 

OF course you Ve heard the welcome news, 
Or you must be a gaby, 
That England's glorious Queen has got 

At last a little baby ? 
A boy we wanted — 'tis a girl ! 

Thus all our hopes that were 
To have an heir unto the Throne, 
Are all thrown to the air. 

How could folks think she 'd have a boy ? 

To me it seemed all fun ; 
For in a dark November/tTg- 

We seldom have a sun ! 

JAMl'lS CA IXACll. 345 

Yet after all I 'm wrong myself 

To reason so, perhaps, 
For we all know that winter is 

The time for getting chaps. 

John Bull must handsomely come down 

A\'ith something every year. 
And he may truly to the child 

Say, " You 're a little dear." 
Sad thoughts will fill his breast whene'er 

He hears the infant rave. 
Because when hearing a wight squall 

It brings a notion grave ! 

Howe'er, let 's give the Princess joy, 

Though now 's her happiest lot ; 
For sorrow tends o. palace more 

Than e'er it does a cot I 
If in some years a sop appears, 

Her claim to rule were vain, 
And being near the Court she '11 have 

To stand out of the Reign ! 


HAIL, royal Princess ! welcome be, 
Victoria's first born, child of the free ! 
May heaven's blessing on thee pour 
The manifold gifts it has in store — 
May British subjects on thee smile, 
Sweet innocent of England's isle. 

May thy fame re-echo far and wide. 
Child of Britain, England's pride — 
And long life may she see — 
May it be one of felicity. ' 

May British, kc. 


And whilst enjoying every pleasure, 
May she become Old England's treasure, 
Victoria's first-born then shall be, 
The child of love and liberty. 
May British subjects on thee smile, 
Hail, Princess of Old England's isle. 

Or, What a Bother in the Palace. 

London, November 2 1st, 1840. 

COME, all good people, list to me, 
I will tell you of a jovial spree, 
News from London has come down, 
That a young Princess has come to town. 

Chorus — What a bother in the palace, 
In the month of November, 
Such a bother in the palace, 
You never did see. 

Now all those things, as 1 heard say. 
The Queen did want upon that day, 
Night-caps, gowns, frocks, and frills, 
And old John Bull must i)ay the bills. 

* * * * * , 

There was such work, I do suppose. 
For to put on the baby's clothes. 
Oh, nurse, look here, how very silly, 
You 've run a pin in the little girl's belly. 

God bless the Queen, we wish her joy. 
And may the next one be a boy, 
And if they both should crave for more, 
Let 's hope they will have half a score. 



IT happen'd t' other Monday morn, while seated at my 
loom, sirs, 
rickin' th' ends fro' eaut o' th' yorn, eaur Nan pop'd into 

th' room, sirs. 
Hoo shouted eaut, aw tell thee, Dick, aw think thou 'rt actin' 

So off to Lunnon cut thy stick, and look at th' royal babby. 

Everything wur fun an' glee, they laugh'd at o aw tow'd em. 
An' ax'd if th' folk wur o like me, ut happen'd t' come 
fro' Owdham. 

Then off aw goes an' never stops, till into th' palace handy, 
Th' child wur sucking lollypops, plums, and sugarcandy ; 
An 'little Vic. i' th' nook aw spied, a monkey on her lap, mon, 
An' Albert sittin' by her side, a mixin' gin an' pap, mon. 
Everything wur, &c. 

When Albert seed me, up he jumps, an' reet to me did 

An' little Vicky sprung her pumps wi' shakin' o' my daddle ; 
They ax'd me to tak' a glass o' wine, for pleasure up it waxes, 
O yes, says aw, six, eight, or nine, it o' comes eaut o' th' 


Everything wur, &c. 

They took the Prince of A\'ales up soon, an' gan it me to 

Then Albert fotch'd a silver spoon, an' ax'd me to taste at 

t' caudle. 
Ecod, says aw, that 's good, awd buck, it's taste aws ne'er 

forget, mon, 
An' if my owd mother 'd gan sich suck, 'cod aw 'd been 

suckin' yet, mon. 

Everything wur. <S:c. 


They ax'd me heau aw liked their son, an' prais'd both th' 

nose an' eyes on 't, 
Aw towd 'em though 't were only fun, 't wur big enough for 

th' size on 't. 
Says aw your Queenship makes a stir (hoo shapes none like 

a dunce, mon. 
But if eaur Nan lived as well as her hoo'd breed 'em two 

at wonce, mon). 

Everything wur, &c. 

They said they 'd send their son to school as soon as he 

could walk, mon. 
And then for fear he 'd be a foo', they 'd larn him th' 

Owdham talk, mon. 
Says aw there 's summut else as well, there 's nout loik 

drainin th' whole pit, 
For fear he '11 ha' for t' keep hissell, aw 'd larn him work 

i' th' coal pit. 

Everything wur, &c. 

Then up o' th' slopes we hod a walk, to give our joints 

relief, sirs. 
And then we sat us deun to talk 'beaut politics and beef, 

Aw towd 'em th' corn laws wur but froth, an' th' taxes must 

o drop, mon, 
That when eaur Nan wur makin' broath, some fat might get 

to th' top, mon. 

Everything wur, itc. 

So neau my tale is at an end, but nowt but truth aw tells, 

If ever we want the times to mend, we '11 ha' for t' do 't eaur 

sells, sirs. 
So neau yo seen aw 've towd my sprees, and sure as aw am 

wick, mon. 
If my owd wife and Albert dees, aw '11 try for t' wed wi Vic., 


J. Ilarkncss, Printer, I2i, Church Street, Treston. 



Tune — "Steam Arm." 

OH, yes, I '11 sing with all my heart, 
And tell you a very singular start 
That lately occurred at Buckingham Palace, 
That scene of waste, confusion, and malice, 
About the baby, the dear little baby, — 
Queen Victoria's baby ! 

About one in the morn, as I heard say, 
The Queen she felt in a curious way — 
She woke her husband, who said with great sorrow, 
" Oh ! can't you, my love, put it off till to-morrow ? 
For I am so sleepy, and I don't want a baby ! " 

" Ah ! " says she, " but I will have a baby ! " 

So her husband got up and summoned them all. 
The l(I)rds and the ladies, the short, fat, and tall ; 
And they sent for the doctor, Sir Christopher Small, 
"Who said very soon they would hear the child squall. 
For he could feel the baby — the dear little baby — 
Queen Victoria's baby ! 

Then there was great bustle, confusion, and hurrj^. 
The Queen was in labour — the Prince in a flurry ; 
^^'hen the Princess was born the nurse loud did shout^ 
" Little girl, does your mother know you are out ? " 
Ohy oh ! little baby, &c. 

Prince Albert, who before was considered a dawdle, 
Gave the baby some pap — the mother some caudle. 
A\ith terror the ladies did all nearly drop 
^Vllen a large German sausage for a lollypof) 
He gave to the baby, the dear little baby — 
Queen Victoria's baby ! 


Now tlie Queen has recovered, and Albert 's the nurse, 
He puts on the child's napkins, and don't care one curse 
And ladies and gendemen, your smiles give to me, 
'Twas to gain your applause I sung, d' ye see. 

About the Queen's baby, the duck of a baby — 
Queen Victoria's baby ! 

Printed by J. Catnach, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 
Cards & Bills, Printed. The Trade supplied Cheap. 

Two days after the Princess was born, Mr. Selwyn, a 
gentleman with whom Prince Albert was reading English 
law and constitutional history, came to give his pupil his 
accustomed lesson. The Prince said to him, "I fear I 
cannot read any law to-day, there are so many coming con- 
stantly to congratulate ; but you will like to see the little 
Princess." He took his tutor into the nursery, as he found 
that the child was asleep. Taking her hand he said, '* The 
next time we read, it must be on the rights and duties of a 
Princess Royal." 


On the 9th of November — Lord Mayor's Day — 1841, the 
following bulletin, placed outside Buckingham Palace an- 
nounced that " The Queen was safely delivered of a Prince 
this morning at 48 minutes past 10 o'clock. Her Majesty 
and the infant Prince are perfectly well." 

A " London Gazette " extraordinary, which appeared on 
Tuesday evening, ran as follows : 

Buckingliam Palace, Nov. gtli. 

This morning, at twelve minutes before eleven o'clock, the Queen 
was happily delivered of a Prince — His Royal Highness Prince Albert. 
Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, several Lords of Her 
Majesty's Most Honourable Privj' Council, and the Ladies of Her 
Majesty's Bedchamber, being present. 

This great and important news was immediately made known to the 
town by the firing of the Tower and Park guns ; and the Privy 
Council being assembled as soon as possible thereupon, at the Council 
Chamber, Whitehall, it was ordered that a Form of Thanksgiving be 
prepared by His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, to be used in all 
churches and chapels throughout England and Wales and the town of 
Berwick-upon-Tweed, on Sunday, the 14th of November, or the 
Sunday after the respective ministers shall receive the same. 

Her Majesty and the infant Prince are, God be praised, both doing 

The joy of the nation at the succession to the Crown in 
the progeny of the Queen and Prince Albert being thus 
secured, was excessive. Upon the announcement of 
the happy accouchement, the nobility and gentry crowded 
to the Palace, to tender their dutiful inquiries as to 
t'-'c Sovereign's convalescence. Amongst others, came 


the Lord Mayor and civic dignitaries in great state. They 
felt pecuharly proud that the Prince should have been 
born on Lord Mayor's day — in fact, just at the ver}- 
moment when the time-honoured procession was starting 
from the City for Westminster. In memory of the happy 
coincidence, the Lord Mayor of the year, Mr. Pirie, was 
created Sir John Pirie, Baronet. On the 4th of December, 
the Queen created her son, by Letters Patent, Prince of 
Wales and Earl of Chester : — "And him, our said and most 
dear son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great 
Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do ennoble 
and invest with the said Principality and Earldom, by girding 
him with a sword, by putting a coronet on his head, and a 
gold ring on his finger, and also by delivering a gold rod 
into his hand, that he may preside there, and direct and 
defend those parts." By the fact of his birth as Heir- Appa- 
rent, the Prince indefeasibly inherited, without the necessity 
of patent or creation, these dignities : the titles of Duke of 
Saxony, by right of his father ; and, by right of his mother, 
Duke of Cornwall, Duke ,of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, 
Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and Great Steward of 


C^^OME, all you bold Britons, and list for awhile, 
J And I will sing you a song that will make you all to smile. 
A young Prince of Wales has come to town, 
The pride of all the nation, and heir to the crown. 
On the ninth of November, 'tis true, 'pon my life, 
All Buckingham Palace was bustle and strife > 
The nurses stared at each other with joy, 
Bawling, our Queen she has got a most beautiful boy. 
The bells they shall ring, and music shall play, 
Th^ ninth of November, remember the day ; 
Through England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales, 
Shout long life to the Queen and the young Prince of Wales. 


It was on the ninth, about eleven in the morn, 

When the young Prince of Wales in the Palace was born ; 

Little Vic. she was there, as you all may be sure, 

Besides doctors, nurses, and gossips — a score. 

Says Vic, " I declare he is the image of me, 

And there 's my dear Albert's nose to a tee ; " 

One and all declared, when he grew up a man, 

He would drub all the foes that infested the land. 

The bells they shall ring, «S:c. 

From another street-ballad, entitled " A New Song on 
the Birth of the Prince of Wales, who was born on Tuesday, 
November 9th, 1841," we select, as follows : — 

THERE'S a pretty fuss and bother both in country and 
Since we have got a present and an heir unto the crown ; 
A little Prince of Wales, so charming and so coy, 
And all the ladies shout with wonder, what a pretty little boy. 
Chorus — So let us be contented, and sing with mirth and joy, 
Some things must be got ready for the pretty little 

He must have a musket, a trumpet and a kite, 
A little penny rattle, and a silver sword so bright, 
A little cap and feather, with scarlet coat so smart, 
And a pretty little hobby horse to ride about the park. 

Prince Albert he will often take the young Prince on his lap, 
And fondle him so loving, while he stirs about the pap ; 
He will pin on his flannel before he takes his nap, 
Then dress him out so stylish with his little clouts and cap. 

He must have a dandy suit to strut about the town, 
John Bull must rake together six or seven thousand pound ; 
You 'd laugh to see his daddy, at night he homeward runs, 
With some peppermint or lollypops, sweet cakes and sugar 

A A 



We shall conclude our gathering of facts, scraps 
and street rare-bits in connection with the ascension 
to the throne, the marriage, &c., of our Most Gracious 
Majesty, Queen Victoria, by a brief description of 
the Queen's wedding-cake, which, fortunately for our 
enterprise, we have succeeded in disinterring from - the 
contemporary records. It was described by an eye-witness 
as consisting of all the most exquisite compounds of all the 
rich things with which the most expensive cakes can be 
composed, mingled and mixed together Avith delightful 
harmony by the most elaborate science of the confectioner. 
It weighed 300 pounds, was three yards in circumference, 
and fourteen inches in depth. On the top was a device of 
Britannia blessing the bride and bridegroom, who were 
dressed, somewhat incongruously, in the costume of ancient 
Rome. At the foot of the bridegroom was the figure of a 
dog, intended to denote fidelity ; at the feet of the Queen 
a pair of turtle-doves. A host of gamboling Cupids, one of 
them registering the marriage in a book, and bouquets of 
white flowers tied with true-lovers' knots, completed the 

J A MES CA TNA CII. 3 5 5 

Wc will now attempt to deal a little in generalities, as 
regards the business which Catnach made for himself in 
London, and the first we would allude to are the "penny 
awfuls." From this particular line he must have realized a 
very snug thing. A fly-sheet, containing the latest particu- 
lars of some '"orrible" crime, at the low charge of one- 
penny, was something marvellous, and we can readily discern, 
even in these days, when the good, bad, and very indifferent 
pictorial newspapers are carried to such an extent, the inter- 
est and sensation which w^ould be caused by the appearance 
of the embellished broadsides which emanated from the 
printing establishment in Seven Dials. Like the proprietors 
of the modern " Illustrateds," Catnach had in his day cor- 
respondents all over the kingdom. It was the duty of these 
persons to procure the latest information, especially that 
part which pertains to the awful and sensational. With 
regard to the "embellishments" we are not inclined to think 
for one moment that any of them were of a character likely 
to adorn the profession or elevate the masses — that will be 
judged by an examination of the various specimens w-e have 
gi\en in the body of our work, but it would be a great in- 
justice to the memory of the original proprietor to say they 
had no influence upon society. The large amount of patron- 
age which the publications met wath is conclusive proof that 
they found their way into the homes of many in the land. 

There is a species of street-literature well known to the 
trade as "Cocks," and which are defined in "Hotton's Slang 
Dictionary" thus : — 

"Cocks — fictitious narratives, in verse or prose, of murders, fires, 
and terrible accidents, sold in the streets as true accounts. The man 
who hawks them, a patterer, often changes the scene of the awful event 
to suit the taste of the neighbourhood he is trying to dehide. Possibly 
a corruption of Cook, a cooked statement; or, as a correspondent 
suggests, the Cock Lane ghost may have given rise to the term. 
This had a great run, and was a rich harvest to the running stationers." 

A A 2 


" Few of the residents in London — but chiefly those in 
the quieter streets," says Mr. Henry Mayhew, in his 
" London Labour and the London Poor," " have not been 
aroused, and most frequently in the evening, by a hurly- 
burly on each side of the street. An attentive listening 
will not lead any one to an accurate knowledge of what the 
clamour is about. It is from a 'mob' or 'school' of run- 
ning patterers, and consists of two, three, or four men. All 
these men state that the greater the noise they make, the 
better is the chance of sale, and better still when the noise 
is on each side of the street, for it appears as if the vendors 
were proclaiming such interesting or important intelligence 
that they were vieing with one another who should supply 
the demand which must ensue. It is not possible to 
ascertain with any creditude what the patterers are so 
anxious to sell, for only a few leading words are audible, as 
'Horrible,' 'Dreadful,' 'Murder,' 'One penny,' 'Love,' 'One 
penny,' ' Mysterious,' ' Seduction,' ' Former crimes,' ' Nine 
children,' ' Coal-cellar,' ' Pool of blood,' ' One penny,' and 
the like, can only be caught by the ear, and there is no 
announcement of anything like 'particulars.' The running 
paterers describe, or profess to describe, the contents of 
their papers as they go along, and they seldom or never 
stand still. They usually deal in murders, seductions, crim. 
cons., explosions, alarming accidents, assassinations, deaths 
of public characters, duels, and love-letters. But popular, 
or notorious murders are the ' great goes.' The running 
patterer cares less than any other street-sellers for bad 
weather, for if he ' work ' on a wet and gloomy evening, and 
if the work be ' a cock ' — which is a fictitious statement — 
there is less chance of anyone detecting the ruse. Among 
the old stereotyped ' Cocks ' are love-letters. One is well- 
known as a ' Married Man caught in a Trap.' And being 
in a dialogue and an epistolary form, subserves any 
purpose: as the 'Love-Letters,' that have passed between 


Mr. Smith, the butcher, baker, grocer, draper, &c. — ' the 
decoyer of female innocence ' — and Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Jones, 
or Mrs. Robinson, or Miss A — , B — , orC — , not 100 yards 
off — 'and the very image of his father,' &c., &c. — and 
can be fitted to any real or pretended local scandal. 

" When the patterer visits the country, he is accompanied 
by a mate, and the ' copy of werses ' is then announced as 
being written by an ' underpaid curate ' within a day's walk. 
' It tells mostly, sir,' said one man, ' for its a blessing to us 
that there always is a journeyman parson what the people 
knows, and what the patter fits,' Sometimes the poetry is 
attributed to a Sister of Mercy, or to a popular poetess ; 
very frequently, by the patterers, who best understand the 
labouring classes, to Miss Eliza Cook. Sometimes the verses 
are written by a 'sympathising gent,' in that parish, 'but his 
name wasn't to be mentioned, or any nobleman or gentleman, 
whose name is before the public in connection with any 
recent event, or an assumed account of * A Battle between 
Two Ladies of Fortune.' The patterers have only to stick a 
picture in their hat to attract attention, and to make all the 
noise they can. 

"Occasionally, the running patterer transmigrates into 
a standing one, betaking himself to ' board work,' as it is 
termed in street technology, and stopping at the corners of 
thoroughfares with a large pictorial placard raised upon a 
pole, and glowing with highly-coloured exaggerations of the 
interesting terrors of the pamphlet he has for sale. 

" When there are no ' popular murders ' the standing pat- 
terer orders of the artist a new and startling ' cock-board,' 
and sells his books or pamphlets, the titles of some of which 
are fully set forth and well displayed ; for example : ' Hor- 
rible murder and mutilation of Lucy Game, aged fifteen, by 
her cruel brother, William Game, aged ten, of Westmill, 
Hertfordshire. His committal and confession, with a copy 
of a letter sent to his affectionate parents.' ' Full particulars 


of the poisonings in Essex — the whole family poisoned by 
the female servant. Confession of her guilt — Was seduced 
by her master. — Revenged herself on the family.' Another 
is — ' Founded on facts, The Whitby Tragedy ; or, the Gam- 
bler's Fate, containing the lives of Joseph Carr, aged twenty- 
one, and his sweetheart, Maria Leslie, aged eighteen, who 
w^ere found dead, lying by each other, on the morning of the 
23rd of May. Maria was on her road to town to buy some 
ribbon and other things for her wedding-day, when her lover, 
in a state of intoxication, fired at her, then run to rob his 
prey, but finding it was his sweetheart, re-loaded his gun, 
placed the muzzle to his mouth, and blew out his brains, all 
through the cursed cards and drink. With an affectionate 
copy of verses.' 

" A popular street-book for ' board-work ' is entitled 
* Horrible Rape and Murder ! ! ! The affecting case of 
Mary Ashford, a beautiful young virgin, who was diaboli- 
cally Ravished, Murdered, and thrown into a Pit, as she was 
returning from a Dance, including the Trial of Abraham 
Thornton for the Wilful Murder of the said Mary Ashford ? 
with the whole of the Evidence, Charges to the Jury, etc., 
with a Correct Plan of the Spot where the Rape and Murder 
were Committed.' 

" The ' street-book ' is founded on fact, and, in reality, 
gives the salient points of a memorable circumstance which 
took place in 181 7, when Abraham Thornton was charged 
at the Warwick Assizes, before Mr. Justice Holroyd, for the 
murder and violation of Mary Ashford, at Erdington, near 
Birmingham. The prisoner was found- — after a consultation 
of the jury of five minutes — Not Guilty, to the utmost sur- 
prise and disappointment of all persons assembled. The 
second charge of committing a rape on the body of the said 
Mary Ashford was abandoned by the prosecution. The 
case created the greatest possible sensation at the time, and 
the trial and subsequent appeal were printed and published 


in a separate form, and occupies 120 pages in double 
columns, ' with a correct plan of the spot where the rape 
and murder were committed, and a portrait of Thornton 
drawn and engraved by George Cruikshank.' 

" The acquittal of Thornton in the atrocious rape and 
murder of Mary Ashford excited the most undisguised 
feelings of disappointment in all classes of persons through- 
out the kingdom, and various provincial newspapers began 
to canvass the subject with vigour, freedom, and research. 
This aroused most of the London papers, and the " Inde- 
pendent Whig," on Sunday, August 17th, after fully com- 
menting on the case, cited several instances where 
individuals, who, after having been arraigned under the 
charge of murder and acquitted, were tried, a second time 
for the same offence, in consequence of an appeal by the 
next of kin of the' deceased against the verdict of the jury, 
and wound up their remarks by saying that, — ' If ever there 
was a case of brutality, violation, and murder, that had greater 
claims upon the sympathy of the world than another, and 
demands a second trial, we think it is exhibited in that of 
the unfortunate Mary Ashford.' This gave the ' key-note,' 
a very large section of the press adopted the same view of 
the case, and a subscription was immediately set on foot 
— Mar)''s friends being in indigent circumstances — to defray 
the necessary exi)enses. And Abraham Thornton was 
apprehended a second time, on a Writ of Appeal, for the 
murder of Mary Ashford, which excited an interest in the 
public mind altogether unprecedented — an interest that was 
heightened by the unusual recurrence of the obsolete 
proceedings necessary in the case by the Saxon Writ of 
Appeal, together with the staggering fact of Thornton 
having challenged his appellant, William, the eldest 
brother of the deceased, Mary Ashford, to a solemn 
trial by battle, and avowing himself ready to defend his 
innocence with his body. 


" The challenge was formally given by throwing down a 
glove upon the floor of the Court of King's Bench, whence 
the case had been removed by ' Writ of Habeas Corpus,' 
to be heard before Lord EUenborough. But the combat did 
not take place, and the prisoner escaped. An Act of 
Parliament was then passed abolishing the trial by battle in 
any suit, as a mode unfit to be used. 

" Mary Ashford was buried in the Churchyard of Sutton 
Colefield, and over her remains is placed a stone with the 
following inscription, written by the Rev. Luke Booker : — 

* As a warning to female virtue, and a humble 

Monument to female chastity, 

This stone marks the grave of 


Who, in the 20th year of her age, 

Having incautiously repaired to a 

Scene of amusement, without proper protection, 

Was brutally violated and murdered 

On the 27th of October, 1817.' 

" The artist who paints the patterers' boards must address 
his art plainly to the eye of the spectator. He must use 
the most striking colours, be profuse in the application of 
scarlet, light blue, orange — not yellow, that not being a 
good candle-light colour — and must leave nothing to the 
imagination. Perspective and back-grounds are things but 
of minor consideration, everything must be sacrificed for 
effect. These paintings are in water colours, and are rub- 
bed over with a solution of gum-resin to protect them from 
the influence of rainy weather. 

" The charge of the popular street-artist for the painting of 
a board is 2s. or 3s. 6d., according to the simplicity or 
elaborateness of the details ; the board itself is j)rovided by 
the artist's employer. The demand for this jjeculiar branch 

-^^hc^ 'li!' 'Illi' 

I -rFirw 



of Street-art is very irregular, depending entirely upon 
whether there has or has not been perpetrated any act of 
atrocity, which has rivetted, as it is called, the public atten- 
tion. And so great is the uncertainty felt by the street-folk 
whether * the most beautiful murder will take or not,' that 
it is rarely the patterer will order, or the artist will speculate, 
in anticipation of a demand, upon preparing the painting of 
any event, until satisfied that it has become 'popular.' A 
deed of more than usual daring, deceit, or mystery, may be 
at once hailed by those connected with murder-patter, as 
' one that will do,' and some speculation may be ventured 
upon, as it was in such cases as Thurtell and Hunt, Corder, 
of the Red Barn notoriety, &c. ; or, in the later times, as 
Greenacre, Rush, Tawell, and the Mannings; but these are 
merely exceptional, so uncertain, it appears, is all that de- 
pends, without intrinsic merit, on mere popular applause."* 
But the gallows was not always a fruit-bearing tree, and a 
" stunning good murder " did not happen every day. Never- 
theless, the patterer must live ; and lest the increase of public 
virtue should condemn him to starvation, the " Seven Dials 
Press " stepped forward to his aid, and considerately supplied 
him with— " cocks." With a good cock-crow, the patterer 
could do tolerably well; and with an assortment of them, to 
suit the several districts on his beat, he could do still better. 
The cock, like the ballad and the sorrowful lamentation, 
sells cither at a penny or a half-penny; but, in spite of all its 
crowing, not so readily; partly because it is objectionable to 
the police, who will not allow it to remain long on its perch, 
and partly for want of faith on the side of the mob, whom, 
in these days of cheap newspapers, it is not so easy to delude 
in the article of news. 

Mayhcw's " London Labour and the London roor." 



The late Mr. Albert Smith, the humourist and novelist, 
has very happily hit off this style of thing in " The Man in 
the Moon," one of the many rivals to "Punch," and edited 
by that very promising son of genius, the late Angus B. 
Reach, 1832 — 56. It is entitled — 


Found among the Papers of Mr. Catnac/i, the spirited 

Publisher of Seven Dials ; originally intended to have been 

'■'■printed and published at the Toy and Marble Warehouse, 

2 and J, Af on mouth Court, Seven Dials." 



The Hero claims the aftottion of virtuous persons, and leads Hum to 
anticipate a fail fill disclosure. 


Draw hither now good people all 

And let my story warn ; 
For I will tell to you a tale, 

What will wrend them breasts of yourn. 

JAMES C ATX AC 11. id 


He names the place and hour of the disgraceful penalty he is about to 

I am condemn'd all for to die 

A death of scorn and tiorror ; 
In front of Horsemonger-lane Gaol, 

At eight o'clock to-morrer. 


I/e hints at his atrocity ; and the ebullition produced by the mere recol- 
lection of it. 


The crime of which I was found guilt}', 

Oh ! it was shocking vile ; 
The very thoughts of the cruel deed 

Now makes my blood to bile. 


Jle speaks of the happy hours of Childhood, nci'cr ntoi-e to return. 


In Somersetshire I was born'd, 
And little my sister dear 

Didn't think then that my sad end 
^\'ould be like unto this here. 




The revelation of his name and profession ; and subsequent avowal of his 

James Gufifin is my hated name, 

And a footman I 'm by trade ; 
And I do confess that I did slay 

My poor fellow-servant maid. 


He acknowledges the justice of his sentence. 

And well I do deserve, I own, 
My fate which is so bitter : 

For 'twas most wicked for to kill 
So innicent a critter. 



And pictures what might have taken place but for the iiiteiference oj 

Her maiden name was Sarey Leigh, 

And was to have been Guffin ; 
For we was to have been marri-ed. 

But Fate brought that to nutfin. 




He is particular as to the date of the occurrence. 

All on a Wednesday afternoon, 

On the ninth of Janiv^ry, 
Eighteen hundred and forty-four, 

Oh ! I did kill my Sarey. 


And narrates the means etnployed, and the circumstances which led him 
to destroy his betrothed. 

With arsenic her I did destroy, 

How could I be so vicious ! 
But of my young master I was jealous, 

And so was my old Missus. 

He is led away by bad passions. 

I thought Sarey Leigh warn't true to me, 

So all pity then despising, 
Sure I was tempted by the Devil 

To give to her some p'ison. 




His bosom is torn by conflicting resolutions ; bnt he is at last decided. 

Long — long I brooded on the deed, 
'Till one morning of a sudden, 

I did determine for to put 
It in a beef-steak puddin. 


The victim falls into the snare. 

Of the fatal pudding she did partake, 

Most fearful for to see, 
And an hour arter was to it a martyr, 

Launch'd into eternity. 


He feels that his perception comes too late. 

Ah ! had I then but viewed things in 
The light that I now does 'em, 

I never should have know'd the grief 
As burns in this here buzum. 


He conniiits /lis Stxret to tlw cartlt. 


So when I seed what I had done, 
In hopes of justice retarding, 

I took and buried poor Sarey Leigh 
Out in the^kitching garding. 


But the earth refuses to keep it. 

But it did haunt me, so I felt 

As of a load deliver'd, 
When three weeks after the fatal deed, 

The body was diskiver'd. 


Remorse and self examination. 

O ! why did I form of Sarey Leigh 
Such cruel unjust opinions, 

When my young master did her find 
Beneath the bed of inions. 




His countrymen form a just estimate of his delinquency. 


Afore twelve jurymen I was tried, 
And condemned the perpetrator 

Of this here awful Tragedy, 
As shocks one's human natur, 


He conjures uf a painful image. 

But the bell is tolling for my end ; 

How shocking for to see 
A footman gay, in the prime of life, 

Die on the fatal tree. 


His last words convey a moral lesson. 

Take warning, then, all ye as would 
Not die like malefactors ; 

Never the company for to keep 
Of them with bad characters. 



The following is the style of " gag " and " patter " of a 
man formerly well known in the " Dials " as " Tragedy Bill " 
— " Now, my kind friends and relations, here you have, just 
printed and published, a full, true, and pertickler account 
of the life, trial, character, 
confession, behaviour, con- 
demnation, and hexecution 
of that unfortunate male- 
factor, Richard Wilbyforce, 
who was hexecuted on 
Monday last, For the small 
charge of one ha! penny ! 
and for the most horrible, 
dreadful, and wicked mur- 
der of Samuel — I mean 
Sarah Spriggens, a lady's 
maid, young, tender, and 
handsome. You have here 
every pertickler, of that 
which he did, and that 
which he didn't. It 's the 
most foul and horrible mur- 
der that ever graced the 
annals of British history (?) Here, my customers, you may 
read his hexecution on the fatal scaffold. You may also 
read how he met his victim in a dark and lonesome wood, 
and what he did to her — For the small cha^-ge of a ha'pemiy ! 
and further, you read how he brought her to London — 
after that comes the murder, which is worth all the money. 
And you read how the ghost appeared to him and then to 
her parents. Then comes the capture of the willain ; also 
the trial, sentence, and hexecution, showing how the ghost 
was in the act of pulling his leg on one side, and the ' old 
gentleman ' a pulling on the other, waiting for his victim 
(my good friends, fellow countrymen, and female women, 

B B 


excuse my tears). But has Shakespeare says, ' Murder most 
foul and unnatural,' but you '11 find this more foul and 
unnatural than that >or the t' other — For the small charge of 
a ha^ penny ! Yes, my customers, to which is added a copy 
of serene and beautiful werses, pious and immoral, as wot 
he wrote with his own blood and a skewer the night after — I 
mean the night before his hexecution, addressed to young 
men and women of all sexes — I beg pardon, but I mean 
classes (my friends its nothing to laugh at), for I can tell 
you the werses is made three of the hard-heartedest things 
cry as never was — to wit, that is to say, namely — a overseer, 
a broker, and a policeman. Yes, my friends, I sold twent\ 
thousand copies of them this here morning, and could ;i 
sold twenty thousand more than that if I could of but kept 
from crying — only a ha'penny ! — but I'll read the werses : 

' /^OME, all you blessed Christians dear, 
\j That 's a-tender, kind, and free, 
While I a story do relate 
Of a dreadful tragedy 
Which happened in London town. 

As you shall all be told ; 
But when you hear the horrid deed 
'Twill make your blood run cold, — 

For the small charge of a ha'penny ! 

'Twas in the merry month of May, 

When my true love I did meet ; 
She look'd all like an angel bright. 

So beautiful and sweet. 
I told her I loved her much. 

And she could not say nay ; 
'Twas then I stung her tender heart, 

And led her all astray. — 

Only a ha'penny ! 


I brought her up to London town, 

To make her my dear wife, 
But an evil spirit tempted me. 

And so I took her life ! 
I left the town all in the night, 

When her ghost in burning fire, 
Saying, ' Richard, I am still with you, 

Wherever you retire.' — 

Only a ha'penny ! 

And justice follow'd every step, 

Though often I did cry ; 
And the cruel judge and jury 

Condemned me for to die. 
And in a cell, as cold as death, 

I always was afraid, 
For Sarah she was with me. 

Although I killed her dead. — 

' For the small charge of a ha penny ! 

My tender-hearted Christians, 

Be warned by what I say. 
And never prove unkind or false 

To any sweet la'-dy. 
Though some there, who wickedness 

Oft leads 'em to go astray ; 
So pray attend to what you hear, 

And a warning take, I pray. 

All for the small charge of a ha'petiny I ' " 



Subjoined is a " Murder Cock," and one which, in street 
phraseology, is said to " fight well." There is a great amount 
of ingenuity exercised in the composition — and, while it 
promises a great deal, it reveals nothing — and is suited for 
•any time, or place — murder or no murder. 


A scene of bloodshed of the deepest dye has been com- 
mitted in this neighbourhood, which has caused a painful 
and alarming sensation among all classes in this place, in 
consequence of its being committed by an individual that is 
well known to most of the inhabitants, who are going in 
great numbers to the fatal spot where the unfortunate and 
ill-fated victim has met with this melancholy and dreadful 

On the news arriving at our office, we at once dispatched 
our reporter to the spot, and on his arrival he found the 
place surrounded by men, women, and children, gathered 


around where the vital spark had fled, which was never to 
be regained on the face of this earth. Deep was the con- 
versation among the accumulated persons as to how a fellow 
creature could be guilty of committing such a revolting and 
diabolical act upon one, who, it appears, was much resi)ected 
in this neighbourhood. 

The reporter states that on the police authorities arriving 
at the place, they had some difficulty in preserving order ; 
but after a short lapse of time, this was accomplished. They 
then proceeded to the house where the lifeless corpse laid, 
and took possession of the same, and which presented one 
of the most awful spectacles that ha^ been witnessed for 
many years. 

What could have been the motive for such a cold-blooded 
and wanton murder being committed we are at a loss to 
conceive ; without it was in consequence of some disagree- 
ment having taken place between the unfortunate victims 
and their assailants, and then ending in depriving their 
fellow-creatures of life, which we are forbidden, according 
to the Commandments, to takeaway ; but this seems to be 
entirely violated in many instances by our dissipated and 
irregular habits which tends to the committal of such serious 
things, and through disobeying the scriptural advice, brings 
tlie degraded creatures to an untimely end. According to 
the Scriptures, "He that sheddeth man's blood, by man 
shall his blood be shed," which we entirely agree with in 
these instances, and fully acknowledge the just sentence that 
is often obliged to be carried into effect ; and certainly must 
say that, were it not for the rigidness of those laws, many of 
us would not be able to proceed on our journey at heart. 
So, therefore, we are in duty bound to call upon those laws 
being fully acted up to, for it is our opinion that those 
crimes are very seldom committed without there is some 
disregard or ill-feeling towards their unfortunate victims, 
and thereby end their days in a dreadful manner. 



The unfortunate persons being so well known and so 
much respected, everyone feels anxious to know all 
particulars, and it is the constant inquiry amongst them to 
know if there is anyone apprehended for the murder, or if 
there is anything more known as to lead to the suspicion 
who it has been committed by, all being very desirous to 
hear of the perpetrators of this diabolical and horrid deed. 
We feel much for the family, Avho are thrown into the greatest 
affliction through this dreadful circumstance, and which has 
cast a gloom over the circle of friends in which they moved. 

As a member of society, there will be no one that we 
know of who will be more missed ; one who was often 
known to relieve the wants of his fellow-creatures as far as 
his circumstances would permit, and whose society was 
courted by all. As a member of the family to which they, 
belonged, none will be more deeply regretted, but those who 
are remaining will feel the loss and deplore the lamentable 
death of their respected and worthy friends. Just as we 
are going to press, we have received information from our 
reporter, that something has been elicited from a party that 
has thrown a light on the subject, and which has led to the 
apprehension of one of the principal offenders, and who, if 
proved guilty, will, we hope, meet with that punishment due 
to his fearful crime. 

London : J. Lucksway, Printer & Publisher, High Street, Westminster. 




THE lady's maid — THE SECRET FOUND OUT ! ! ! — OR, A 


" Good morning, Sir." 

" The same to you, Miss ! Very happy to meet you here ; 
how far are you going?" 

" Not far. Sir, but I should be proud of your company 
for a short time." 

" Thank you, Miss, I hope we shall be better acquainted 
ere long." 

" I hope, Sir, you are unmarried ? " 

" Happy to say at present — I am ! " 

" Very well. Sir, I am at present without a sweetheart who 
has possession of my heart ! " 

" My dear, I will endeavour to try to gain you." 

" Excuse me, Sir, I am poor." 

" My dear, I am only a theatrical gentleman, but very 
fond of the fair sex." 

" Do you think, my cherub, that you will be able to keep 
us when we are wed ? " 


" Yes, my dear, for I will feed you on oysters, beef-steaks, 
and all such fattening and strengthening things as are 
necessary for our conjugal happiness and comfort." 

" But, Sir, can I really depend upon you ? " 

" Yes, my dear ; shall we name the day for our marriage? " 

" Suppose we say, my love, the day after to-morrow? " 

"Agreed; until that, adieu." 

On the morning appointed for the wedding, the young 
woman received the following epistle : — 

" My Dearest Fanny, — I have thought on your proposal 
since last we met, but, from circumstances that have 
transpired, I beg leave to postpone our marriage to a future 
day. I thought on our conversation and your delightful 
company ever since, and have enclosed a copy for your 

" I am, 

" Yours for ever, 

" Henry J. N. S." 

" Light of my soul ! by night and day, 
I '11 love thee ever ; 
Light of my soul ! list to my lay, 

I '11 leave thee never. 
Light of my soul ! where'er I go. 

My thoughts on thee are hov'ring ; 
Light of my soul ! in weal or woe — 
Send by the bearer a sovereign^ 

The young woman read this letter with disdain, and wrote 
back the following answer : — 

" Sir, — I return your note with disgust, having been 
informed that you are a married man, and I hope you will 
bestow the trash you offered me upon your wife. So pray 
trouble me no more with your foolery." 

Poor H. took this so much to heart, that he went and 
drowned his senses in wine, and then returned home, 

JAMES CAIN si a I. 377 

undressing himself, the letter fell from his bosom, his wife 
picked it up, read it, and beat him about the head with a 
di^h cloth. 

There are two Avays of reading this to discover the 

parties. Henry lives in this street, and Fanny 

at the Beer-shop round the corner, and is said to be 

no better than she should be. 

Printecl by J. Pitts, Wholesale Toy Warehouse, Great St. Andrew's 
Street, Seven Dials. 



Following is " a cock," which, in the hands of a clever 
patterer, can be made much of, and which is certainl\ 
making " Much Ado About Nothing " : — 



After having been carried on in a ciirioiis\manner for a long time. 

" Most Adorable Mary, — 

"Why have you left me, and deprived me of those 
pleasures of beholding the most charming face that nature 
ever made ? How shall I find words to express the passion 
you have inspired me with ? Since the day I first beheld 
your form, I have felt the sharpest pangs of love, which have 
worked me up to the utmost pitch of distraction. But alas ! 
such a shock I felt as is impossible to express. The dearest 

object of my heart is locked in the embrace of Robert E , 

that vile monster and decoyer of female innocence. Oh ! 
never should I have thought that after so many pleasant 
hours we have passed together, and promises pledged on 
either side, that you would have slighted me in the manner 


you have, and find your heart callous to one who adores }ou, 
and even the ground your angelic form walks upon. Oh, 
my adorable angel, do not forsake me and the welfare of 
yourself; drop all connection with that vile deceiver, R. E., 
and once more reinstate me to that pleasure which none but 
lovers know. My fluctuation of fortune shall ne\'er abate 
my attachment, and I hope the day is not far distant when 
I shall lead you to the altar of Hymen, Oh ! soon may the 
time arrive when I may call thee, dearest Mary, my own. 
Oh ! my dearest angel, consent to my request, and keep me 
no longer in suspense ; nothing, on my part, shall ever be 
wanting to make you happy and comfortable. My engage- 
ment will expire in two months from hence, when I intend 
to open a shop in the small ware line, and your abilities as 
a seamstress and self-adjusting bustle maker, with the 
assistance of a few work girls shall be able to realise an in- 
dependence ; and, moreover, I will indulge you in all things 
needful in the marriage state, and show my regard for you 
by cleaning your shoes, lighting the fire every morning, 
buying crumpets, new butter, and so forth ; besides, my dear 
Mary, we will live merrily upon beef-steak, oysters and other 
tasty articles necessary for our conjugal happiness, and upon 
my bended knees I pray for it, and may earthly friendship 
and confidence, with truest love, continue to the end. 

" You are the first, I freely own, 

That raised love in my breast. 
Where now it reigns without control, 

But yet a welcome guest. 
Ah ! must I drive the cherub hence, 

In sorrow to regret. 
And will you join to foster me. 

And me no more neglect. 

'' Most adorable Mar)', — I have to repeat my former re- 
quest, that is, quit R. E.'s company, and place yourself 



under the protection of me only, in whom you will find all 
the comfort that wedded life can bestow. 

" I remain, dear Mary, 

" Yours till death, 

"John S . 

" P.S. — Favour me, my angel, with an answer by return of 
post ; if not, I shall start off directly for Liverpool, and 
embark for America." 

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 & 3 Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. 

'■' -'A??l 




■ 8-1: 




L ^^agc^v^a^lO,:-^.---^;;^ 

One of the most favourite themes of the standing pat- 
terer was the "Annals of the White House in Soho Square." 
Although the house in question, which stood at the northern 
angle of Sutton Street, has long since been rebuilt, and its 
original character entirely altered, for some years the 
patterer did not scruple to represent it as still in existence 
— though he might change the venue as to the square at 
discretion, and attribute vile deeds to any nobleman or 


gentleman whose name was before the pubHc, and to 
embellish his story by an allusion to a recent event. 

The White House was a place of fashionable dissipation, 
to which only the titled and wealthy classes had the 
privilege of admission. Its character may be inferred from 
the fact that it was one of the haunts of the then Prince of 
Wales, the old Duke of Queensbury, and the Marquis of 
Hertford ; and the ruin of many a female heart may be 
dated from a visit within its walls. It is said by tradition 
that its apartments were known as the " Gold," " Silver," 
and "Bronze" Rooms, &c., each being called from the 
prevailing character of its fittings, and that the walls' of 
nearly every room were inlaid with mirrored panels. Many 
of the rooms in this house, too, had a sensational name, as 
the " Commons," the " Painted Chamber," the " Grotto," 
the " Coal Hole," and the " Skeleton Room " — the latter 
so styled on account of a closet out of which a skeleton 
was made to step forth by the aid of machinery. The 
"White House," as a scene of profligacy, lived on into 
the present century, and having been empty for some years, 
was largely altered, and to some extent rebuilt, by the 
founders of the extensive business of Messrs. Crosse and 
Blackwell, the well known pickle manufacturers. 

" The authors and poets who give this peculiar literature, 
alike in prose or rhyme to the streets, are all in some 
capacity or another connected with street patter or song ; 
and the way in which a narrative or a * copy of werses ' is 
prepared for the press is usually this : — The leading 
members of the * schools ' — some of whom refer regularly 
to the evening papers — when they hear of any out-of-the-way 
occurrence, resort to the printer and desire its publication 
in a style proper for the streets. This is usually done 
very speedily, the school — or a majority of them — and the 
printer agreeing with the author. Sometimes an author will 
voluntarily prepare a piece of street-literature and submit it 


to a publisher, who, as in case of other pubUshers, accepts 
or decHnes. as he believes the production will or will not 
prove remunerative. Sometimes the school carry the 
manuscript with them to the printer, and undertake to buy 
a certain quantity to insure publication. The payment to 
the author is the same in all cases — a shilling ; but some- 
times if the printer and publisher like the verses he * throws 
a penny or two over.' And sometimes, also, in case of a 
great sale, there is the same ' over-sum.' The ' Dials' and 
its immediate neighbourhood is the chief residence of these 
parties, as being nearest to the long-established printer, they 
have made it the ' head meet ' of the fraternity. 

It must be borne in mind that the street-author is closely 
restricted in the quaHty of his effusions. It must be such 
as the patterers approve, as the chanters can chant, the 
ballad singers sing, and, above all, such as the street buyers 
will buy." * 

When trade was quiet in the " sensationals," Jemmy would 
commence to get-up some of the small histories, several of 
which had almost become stereotyped on his memory. 
Some of these little books he considered eminently suited \ 
for certain localities. An anecdote is related of him : " Early 
one Monday morning, an Alnwick friend called to see him. 
They were in the act of conversing together when the 
principal pressman came to inquire what work should next \ 
be proceeded with. He was told to go on with some of \ 
the old traders, and that on a certain shelf in the workshop 
he would find ' Jack, the Giant Killer,' and ' The Babes i 
in the Wood,' and not far from these were 'Blue Beard'"' 
and ' Tom Hickathrift,' and lying between them was ' 
* Crazy Jane,' ' The Scarlet Whore of Babylon,' ' Nancy ' 
Dawson,' and 'Jane Shore.' 'These,' added Jemmy, 
slily, 'will do for the Bristol trade.'" 

Mayhew's " London Labour and the London Poor. 

jAMi'.^ laj:\acji. 3s J 

Most of Catnach's customers paid all coppers, and he 
used to take them to the Bank of England, in large bags, 
in a hackney coach, because most of his neighbours, 
knowing from whom he received them, dreaded to take them 
of him in exchange for silver, because of a fever which was 
reported to have been propagated by the filthy money he used 
to take from the cadgers and hawkers. After this he used to 
boil all his coppers in a strong decoction of potash and vin- 
egar before exchanging them, which used to make them look 
as bright as when they were first coined. The journeymen 
and boys in his employ were obliged to take their wages in 
coppers ; and on Saturday night they had to get their wives 
or mothers to call for them to help carry home ten, twenty, 
thirty, or forty shillings, all in coppers, for the penny pieces 
in those days were much larger and heavier than they are 
now ; some of them were of George the Second's time, and 
would outweigh two of the present genteel-looking bronze 
'coins of the same value. In spite of all his pains to detect 
them Catnach used to take so many bad pennies that he at 
length paved his small back kitclien, which was used as a 
wetting-room, with them, by having them embedded in 
plaster of Paris. 

" Songs ! Songs ! Songs ! Beautiful songs ! Love songs ! 
Newest songs ! Old songs ! Popular songs ! Songs, Three 
Yards a Fenny I" was a " standing dish " at the " Catnach 
Press," and Catnach was the Leo X. of street publishers. 
And it is said that he at one time kept a fiddler on 
the premises, and that he used to sit receiving ballad- 
writers and singers, and judging of the merits of any 
production which was brought to him, by having it sung 
then and there to some popular air played by his own 
fiddler, and so that the ballad-singer should be enabled 
to start at once, not only with the new song, but also 
the tune to which it was adopted. His broad-sheets 
contain all sorts of songs and ballads, for he had a 


most catholic taste, and introduced the custom of taking 
from any writer, Hving or dead, whatever he fancied, and 
printing it side by side with the productions of his own 

Catnach, towards the latter part of his time and in his 
threefold capacity of publisher, compositor, and poet, was 
in the habit of taking things very easy, and always appeared 
to the best advantage when in his printing office, or stationed 
behind the ricketty counter which for a number of years had 
done good service in the shop in Monmouth Court. In this 
incongenial atmosphere, where the rays of the sun are seldom 
or never seen. Jemmy was as happy as a prince. " A j^oor 
man's home is his castle," so says an old proverb, and no 
one could have been prouder than he was when despatching 
to almost every town in the kingdom some speciality in the 
printing department. He naturally had a bit of a taste for 
old ballads, music, and song writing ; and in this respect he 
was far in advance of many of his contemporaries. To bring 
within the reach of all the standard and popular works of 
the day, had been the ambition of the elder Catnach ; whilst 
the son was, nolens volens, incessant in his endeavours in 
trying to promulgate and advance, not the beauty, elegance, 
and harmony which pervades many of our national airs and 
ballad poetry, but very often the worst and vilest of each 
and every description — in other Avords, those most suitable 
for street-sale. His stock of songs was very like his customers, 
diversified. There were all kinds, to suit all classes. Love, 
sentimental, and comic songs were so interwoven as to form 
a trio of no ordinary amount of novelty. At ordinary times, 
when the Awfuls and Sensationals were flat, Jdmmy did a 
large stroke of business in this line. 

It is said that when the " Songs — Three-yards-a-petmy " 
— first came out and had all the attractions of novelty, 
some men sold twelve or fourteen dozen on fine days during 
three or four of the summer months, so clearing between 6s. 


and 7s. a day, but on the average about 25s. a week profit. 
The " long songs," however, have been quite superseded by 
the " Monster " and " Giant Penny Song Books." Still 
there are a vast number of half-penny ballad-sheets worked 
off, and in proportion to their size, far more than the 
" Monsters " or " Giants." 

There are invariably but two songs printed on the half- 
penny ballad-sheets — generally a new and popular song 
with another older ditty, or a comic and sentimental, and 
" adorned " with two woodcuts. These are selected without 
any regard as to their fitness to the subject, and in most 
cases have not the slightest reference to the ballad of which 
they form the head-piece. For instance : — '* The Heart 
that can feel for another" is illustrated by a gaunt and 
savage-looking lion ; " When I was first Breeched," by an 
engraving of a Highlander sa?is culotte ; " The Poacher " 
comes under the cut of a youth v.ith a large watering-pot, 
tending flowers; " Ben Block" is heralded by the rising sun; 
The London Oyster Girl," by Sir Walter Raleigh ; " The 
Sailor's Grave," by the figure of Justice ; " Alice Grey " 
comes under the very dilapidated figure of a sailor, or "Jolly 
Young Waterman ; " " Bright Hours are in store for us yet " 
is headed with a tail-piece of an urn, on which is inscribed 
Finis! " Watercresses," with the portrait of a Silly Billy; 
" The Wild Boar Hunt," by two wolves chasing a deer ; 
"The Dying Child to its Mother," by an Angel appearing 
to an old man ; " Crazy Jane," by the Royal Arms of 
England; "Autumn Leaves lie strew'd around," by a ship 
in full sail ; " Cherry Ripe," by Death's Head and Cross 
Bones ; " Jack at the Windlass," falls under a Roadside 
Inn ; while " William Tell " is presented to the British 
public in form and style of an old woman nursing an infant 
of squally nature. Here are a few examples : — 



Fair Phoebe and her Dark-Eyed Sailor. My Pretty Jane. 

The Saucy iVrethusa. 

The Gipsy King. 

Hearts of Oak. 



Harry Bluff. 

Death of Nelson. 

tzr-^ ' •=^j:—-^r..^ 

John Anderson, my Joe. 


Old English Gentleman. 

The Bleeding Heart. 

Wapping Old Stairs. Poor Bessy was a Sailor's Bride. 

Poor Mary Anne. 

The Muleteer. 




Besides the chanters, who sing the songs through the 
streets of every city, to\vn, village, and hamlet in the king- 
dom — the long-song seller, Avho shouts their titles on the 
kerb-stone, and the countless small shop-keepers, who, in 
swag-shops, toy-shops, sweetstuff-shops, tobacco-shops, and 
general shops, keep them as part of their stock for the 
supply of the street boys and the servant girls — there is 
another important functionary engaged in their distribution, 
and who is well known to the inhabitants of large towns, 
this is the pinner-up, who takes his stand against a dead 
wall or a long range of iron railing, and first festooning it 
liberally with twine, pins up one or two hundred ballads for 
public perusal and selection. Time was when this was a 
thriving trade : and we are old enough to remember the 
day when a good half-mile of wall fluttered with the min- 
strelsy of war and love, under the guardianship of a scattered 
file of pinners-up, along the south side of Oxford Street 
alone. Thirty, years ago the dead walls gave place to shop 
fronts, and the pinners-up departed to their long homes. 
As they died out no one succeeded to their honours and 
emoluments ; and in place of the four or five score of them 
who' flourished in London at the commencement of this 
century, it is probable that the most rigid search would 
hardly reveal a dozen in the present day. In the provincial 
towns, the diminution is not so marked ; and there, from 
causes not difficult to explain, the pinner-up has been better 
able to hold his ground. This functionary, wherever he is 
found, is generally a superannuated artisan or discarded 
servant ; and as he is necessarily exposed to all weathers, 
his costume usually consists of everything he can contrive 
to hang about him. 


"W^e win now briefly allude to the wood-blocks which 
Catnach had in his possession, and which served for the 
purpose of illustrating during the time that he had been in 
business. He had a large collection, such as they were ; 
but as works of art they had little or no pretension, being, 
upon the whole, of the oddest and most ludicrous 
character. Those that were intended for the small books 
were very quaint — as w^e have shown by the fac-similed 
specimens we have given — whilst the larger portion, which 
were chiefly intended for the "awfuls," w^ere grotesque and 
hideous in their design and execution. No more ghastly 
sight could be imagined than one of Jemmy's embellish- 
ments of an execution. It would appear that for the last 
discharge of the law he had a large collection of blocks 
which would suit any number of victims who were about to 
undergo the dread penalty. It mattered little how many 
Jack Ketch w^as going to operate upon, wood-blocks to the 
exact number were always adopted, in this particular the great 
"Dying-Speech Merchant" would seem to have thought that 
his honour and reputation were at stake, for he had his network 
so formed as to be able to secure almost every information 
of news that was passing between the friends of the culprits 
and the prerogative of the Crown. But we are informed 
that upon one occasion he w^as nearly entrapped. Three 
\ ictims were upon the eve of being executed, and in those 
days — and in later times — it was not an uncommon thing 
to see the confession and dying speech printed one or two 
' ys previous to the event. This we are told by those in 
trade was almost necessary, in order that the sheets 
1 night be ready for the provinces almost as soon as the 
sentence of the law had been carried out. It so happened 
that on the night previous to an execution, one of the 
c ulprits w^as reprieved. It was solely by a piece of good 
luck that Catnach heard of it. Several sheets had been 
struck off; and Jemmy was often chaffed about hanging 


three men instead of two ; but our informant assures us 
that the error was corrected before any of the impressions 
were dispatched from the office. Had they gone before the 
pubHc in their original state, the locus standi of the great 
pubHsher in Monmouth Court would have been greatly 
imperilled. To those who are fond of the fine arts, /// 
usiiin vulgi, Catnach's embellishments will afford a fund of 
amusement. Amongst the lot were several well known 
places, the scenes of horrible and awful crimes, engravings 
of debauchery and ill-fame, together with an endless 
number of different kinds, suitable at the shortest possible 
notice, to illustrate every conceivable and inconceivable 

The Seven Dials in general, and " The Catnach Press " 
in particular, had no dread of copyright law — the principal 
Librarian of the British Museum, Stationer's, or any other 
Hall in those days — and as wood engravings were not to be 
had then so quickly or cheap as now-a-day's, Jemmy used at 
times to be his own engraver, and while the compositors 
were setting up the types, he would carve out the illustration 
on the back of an old pewter music plate, and by nailing it 
on to a piece of wood make it into an improvised stereo- 
plate off-hand, for he was very handy at this sort of work, 
at which also his sister, with his instruction, could assist ; 
so they soon managed to rough out a figure or two, and 
when things were dull and slack they generally got one or 
two subjects ready in stock, such as a highwayman with 
crape over his face, shooting a traveller, Avho is falling from 
his horse near a wide-spreading old elm tree, through which 
the moon was to be seen peeping ; not forgetting to put the 
highwayman in top boots and making him a regular dandy. 
This was something after the \ASn of the artists of the cheap 
illustrated papers of the present day, who generally antici- 
pate events sometime beforehand to be ready with their 
blocks. As a proof of this, the editor of the " London, 


Provincial, and Colonial Press News," says " I happened to 
call one day on an artist for the ' Illustrated Press,' and 
found him busily engaged in sketching a funeral procession 
with some twenty coffins borne on the shoulders of men 
who were winding their way through an immense crowd. 
Upon inquiry, I was told that it was intended for the next 
week's issue, and was to represent the funeral of the victims 
of the late dreadful colliery explosion, for although the 
inquest was only just then sitting, and all the bodies had not 
yet been found, there was sure to be a funeral of that kind 
when it was all over, and as they did not know how many 
bodies were to be buried at one time, it was very cleverly 
arranged to commence the procession from the corner of the 
block, and so leave it to the imagination as to how many 
more coffins were coming in the rear ; something after the 
plan of a small country theatre, when representing Richard 
the Third, and in the battle scene, after the first two or three 
of the army had made their appearance, to cry ' halt ! ' very 
loudly to all those behind who were not seen, and leave the 
spectators to guess how many hundreds there were to 

For the illustrating of catchpennies, broadsides, and 
street-literature in general, particular kinds of wood-cuts 
were required. In most cases one block was called upon to 
perform many parts ; and the majority of metropolitan 
printers, who went in for this \vork, had only a very limited 
number of them. Very often the same cuts were repeated 
over and over again, and made to change sides with one 
another, and that simply to make a little variation from a 
ballad or broadside that had been printed at the same office 
on the day, week, or month previous. It mattered little 
what the subject was, it required some adornment, in the 
shape of illustration, to give effect to it. The catchpennies, 
especially those connected with the awfuls, were in general 
very rough productions. A lover strangling his sweetheart 


\\dth a long piece of rope. A heartless woman murdering 
an innocent man. Vice punished and virtue rewarded, and 
' similar subjects, were always handled in such a manner as 
to create a degree of excitement, sympathy, and alarm. 
The broadsides, generally adorned with some rough outline 
of the royal arms of England, a crowned king or queen, as 
the subject might be, received their full share of considera- 
tion at the hands of the artist. Scions of royal blood, and 
those connected with the court, were often painted in 
colours glaring and attractive, whilst the matter set forth in 
the letterpress was not always the most flattering or 

In course of time, what with wood-cuts getting cheaper, 
and opportunities for purchasing them presenting themselves, 
Catnach's stock gradually improved in quantity, if not 
always in quality; and he had in his miscellaneous 
collection many designed and cut by Thomas Bewick, the 
man who took the greatest part in raising the art of wood- 
engraving as it is now practised, and whose pictures in the 
" History of Quadrupeds " and the " Book of Birds," are 
still unrivalled as specimens of exquisite truthfulness and 
finish. Bewick was born at Cherryburn, in Northumberland, 
in 1753, and ashe had shown some taste in drawing, was 
apprenticed to a copper-plate engraver at Newcastle-on-Tyne. 
His master, Mr. Beilby, engraved door-plates, clock-faces, 
and occasionally copper-plates for illustrating books, and 
with his brother, Thomas Beilby, also taught drawing. 
They never gave Bewick a lesson, however, for they 
undertook such a variety of work that the lad was always 
employed, and had no time to study. Etching sword blades, 
making bookbinders' stamps and dies, engraving seals, rings, 
jewellery, and silver plate, and, in fact, all the business that 
could be supposed to belong to their trade, and never 
refusing an order, the workshop of the Beilbys was always 
full. It hapi^ened, however, that this brought about the 


\"ery event which afterwards made Bewick famous ; for, 
among other orders, there occasionally came some from 
l>rinters, asking the Beilbys to execute some wood-cuts for 
their books and handbills. Mr. Beilby was such a bad 
hand at wood-engraving, and disliked it so much, that he 
soon left that branch of the work to his apprentice, who 
then began to design and make drawings on the wood — an 
occupation in which he delighted — and to engrave the 
designs that he had made. One of these was a picture of 
St. George and the Dragon, for the top of a bill, and it was 
so well executed, and attracted so much attention, that 
more orders were sent than he could easily undertake, and 
his whole time was devoted to designing and cutting wood- 
blocks. Some pictures which he engraved for " Gay's Fables" 
were so good that his master sent a few impressions of them 
to the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, who sent to 
ask him whether he would have a gold medal or seven 
guineas in money. He chose the money, and said that he 
never felt greater pleasure in his life than in presenting it to 
his mother. When he was out of his apprenticeship 
Bewick found himself constantly employed \ and some of 
his works will remain as exquisite specimens of the art as 
long as wood-engraving is practised. A series of his designs 
may be seen at the South Kensington Museum, along with 
many other pictures illustrative of the progress of drawing 
and engraving on wood. 

Since the death of Bewick, in 1828, the establishment of 
so many illustrated magazines and newspapers, the immense 
increase in the number of picture books for children, and 
the substitution of wood-cuts for copper and steel-plate 
engravings, have all made the trade of the wood engraver 
of greater importance ; and most of our great artists have 
devoted their attention to drawing pictures on wood blocks, 
that they might be cut afterwards by those who make 
engraving only their particular business. In this respect the 



modern differs very materially from tlie ancient practice. 
Tl>e old masters not only made the design of the picture on 
the wood, but very often engraved it afterwards. This is 
not very often the case in our own day, and though to. be a 
skilful wood engraver it is necessary also to be a tolerably 
good artist — the two professions are in most instances quite 

It is remarkable how great the demand has become within 
the last few years to secure copies or early impressions of 
the v/orks of our great wood engravers. The large sums of 
money which are given for, and the eagerness in which the 
works of many of our north country artists are sought after, 
is really marvellous. One of the most curious and interest- 
ing books published of late years is that which was brought 
out a few years ago by Mr. William Dodd, of Newcastle.* 
He succeeded to the business of the late Mr. Emerson 
Charnley. ' The latter through life had been a diligent 
student and collector of the old books, rarities, and such 
like, and the result of his enterprise was that, at the time of 
his death, he possessed a valuable collection of wood blocks, 
extending over a period of upwards of 200 years. These 
had been principally intended for the illustration of books 
of history, poetry, adventure, &c. From the pages of the 
work we catch at a glimpse the progressive stages which the 
art has made in this country during the last two centuries, 
and this is the more noticeable when we compare the state 
of things that existed prior to the time of Thomas Bewick, t 
It was towards the close of the last century when this great 
artist set himself to improve, adorn, and shed an 
additional lustre over a profession which hitherto it had not 
known. How he succeeded will be best shown by a careful 

* A copy in Hugo's sale, August, 1877, brought /i 12s. od. 
t Hugo's copy of the catalogue sold for £\ 14s. od. 



examination of the many beautiful productions which 
emanated from his hands. By his great abilities, energy, 
and perseverance, he gained for himself a niche in the 
temple of fame. No works of the present day are more 
eagerly sought after than those of this great north country 

On this subject Mr, Hugo, in his " Bewick Collector," 
says : — " The most extraordinary sums are asked for and 
paid for what would appear to the unlearned the most 
valueless and uninteresting articles. From the present 
state of the market, and the still increasing avidity of 
collectors, it may be fairly augured that the prices will 
progressively and largely increase ; and it would appear, to 
quote the words of an eminent bookseller, lately used to 
myself, that ' anything may be asked and anything may be 
had.' All, therefore, " continues Mr. Hugo, " that I can 
advise the collector is, not so much to be cautious against 
paying too dearly for what he gets, as to be sure that what 
he gets is genuine." 


One of the best private collections of wood-blocks in 
the north part of the kingdom was held by the late Mr. 
William Davison. Independent of his own, he had also 
those that formerly belonged to Mr. John Catnach. They 
were chiefly the productions of Bewick, Clennel, Harvey, 
Reaveley, &c. During the lifetime of Mr. Davison the 
l)rincipal portion of his stock of engravings was published 
in the form of a catalogue, and they make an attractive 
volume.* After his death, the whole of the blocks, 
together with his other effects, were sold at Newcastle-on- 
Tyne. The illustrations that were used for the " Hermit of 
Warkworth."t the poems of Burns and Ferguson, " Beattie's 
Minstrel," "Crazy Jane," and "Shepherd Lubin," were' 
purchased by Mr. Robert Robinson, of ' Pilgrim Street, 
Newcastle, who afterwards sold them to Mr. Hugo, several 
of which appear in his book entitled, the " Bewick 
Collector." It was rather unfortunate that Mr. Davison's 
valuable collection did not find a resting place in the town 
of his adoption.^ 

In late years there has been a growing desire on the part 
of many to possess specimens, in a collected form, of some 
of the best catchpennies, broadsides, and fly-sheets, 
together with other rarities in the shape of street-literature. 
Towards accomplishing this object some very good work 
has been done, and there is every reason to believe that 
more will yet be accomplished. The issuing of such a work 
Avill be looked forward to with great interest and curiosity,, 
and we feel sure that many will wish a God-speed to such' 
an undertaking. Amongst Jemmy Catnach's treasures in 
the fine arts, was a lot of sketches of well known Alnwick' 

* Hugo's copy sold for;^i l8s. od. 

+ Now in the possession of the compiler of the present work : pur- 
chased at Mr. Hugo's Sale, August, 1877. 
+ Mr. George Skelly, Alnwick. 



characters, including those of Dicky Greenhead, Ralphy 
Docus, Billy Cleghorn, Derick Ormond, Forster Rattray, 
Jemmy Bamforth, &c. A portion of these was exhibited 
at the Jubilee Exhibition of the Alnwick Mechanics' 
Institution, held in 1873. They were executed by Mr. 
Percy Foster, and are tlie property of Mr. William Thew of 








i\. is Prince Albert, once buxom and keen^ 

Who from Germany came and got spliced to the Queen ; 

His time passes happily — I wish him good joy, 

Now he has one little maiden and one little boy. 


stands for Bright, such a chap we are told, 
For puddings and muffins, hot crumpets and rolls : 
He hollows and raves, till his sides they do ache, 
And he wants for to feed all the world on plumb cake. 

\j is brave Cobden, who one night it is said. 
Threw a large quartern loaf at poor Buckingham's head 
Concerning the Corn Laws he laid it down strong, 
And he spun out a yarn seventeen hours long. 



is Tom Duncombe, a real ladies' man, 
And greatly respected all over the land \ 
He strives day and night, like a jolly M.P., 
1 o procure old women a strong cup of tea. 


is General Evans, a member again, 
Who beat forty thousand old women in Spain ; 
lie wanted to sit in Parliament House, 
So he kicked up a rumpus and turned out poor Rouse. 

JT stands for Ferrand, a Protectionist tool, 
He spoke seven hours and talked like a fool ; 
He represents Knaresborough just for a joke, 
Where there's nothing but porage pots, mouse-traps, and 

\J is for Graham, who early and late, 
Attends to the post office, church, and the state ; 
He once turned his jacket, but that never mind ; 
He 's a good sen^int now, and employment does find. 


is old Hume, who is clever we see 
At addition, substraction, and the rule of three ; 
He 's acquainted with practice, I 've heard so at least, 
And he jumps round the house like a fourpenny piece. 

1 is Bob Inglis, a chap for to pray, 
Who 'd not suffer one on the great Sabbath day 
To eat, drink, or sleep, talk, whistle, or sing. 
The cat say moll-row, or the ladies lay-in. 

J stands for Jersey, who governs the horse. 
And a short time ago his fair daughter he lost ; 
She was fond of soldiers, and off she went slap, 
^^'ith a gun and a knapsack slung over her back. 

D D 



is Fitz. Kelly, such a chap for to jaw, 
And can tell you about LAW law ; 
To get into Cambridge he strove very hard, 
Where they sell out fresh butter at 9d. a yard. 

ij is for Lincoln, who none can rebuke, 
He offended his daddy, old Nottingham's Duke, 
'Cause manly he acted, Newcastle mad run, 
He elected a stranger and turned out his son. 


is Lord Morpeth, who nothing could baulk, 
To be elected so free for the county of York ; 
He vows if a Protectionist does him come nigh, 
He '11 give him a terrible slap in the eye. 


is old Nosey, a soldier so true, 
Who frightened old Boney at great Waterloo. 
Although he is old, he is able to run. 
With the musket and bayonet to follow the drum. 

is O'Connell, a Repealer so big, 
With a stick in his hand, like the mast of a brig ; 
He calls himself Daniel, the pride of the law, 
The King of old Ireland, Erin go Bragh ! 

Jr stands for Peel, who is a9ting upright. 

And between you and me, he has got a long sight ; 

If he don't beat his opponents all very slap, 

He will bolt off to Tamworth and swallow his trap. 


is the Queen, who to John Bull did say, 
" You must recollect, Johnny, in April, or May 
A blooming young Albert I shall then bring to town. 
So move along, Johnny, and gather the browns." 

JAMFs r \ rxACn 403 


is Lord Russell, how iiard was his case, 
When he ran down to Windsor to look for a place ; 
'Cause they wouldn't employ him he held down his nob, 
And vented some curses on Arthur and Bob. 

O is Lord Stanley, who scampered with fear, 
Afraid that old Derby, his father, oh, dear ! 
Should take away from him his trousers and coat, 
And drown him in vinegar, barley, and oats. 

1 is for Thesiger, Abinger's man, 
1'hc Attorney-General for old England's land ; 
For the life of the Corn Bill he swears he wont plead, 
Although he 's a counseller able, indeed. 


is for Uxbridge, who wonders have done, 
He was born in the baiTacks, old Anglesey's son ; 
His father's a marquis, none can him degrade. 
He lives in Burlington Gardens, near to the Arcade. 


stands for Villiers, whom the farmers detest. 
For to slaughter the Corn Laws he will do his best ; 
For Free Trade he struggles by day and by night, 
He is next in command to Dick Cobden and Bright. 


is Waklcy, a doctor so bold, 
Who declares on the Corn Bill an inquest he '11 hold ; 
When the jury he 'II charge, but England shall see 
A verdict returned of Felo-de-se. 


is a letter which puts me in mind 
Of a ship load of landlords sailing against wind, 
Right over the ocean from England away, 
To spend their last hours in Botany Bay. 


1 is for York, the Archbishop so big, 
Who loves for to dine on a httle tythe pig ; 
Free Trade on last Sunday so did him perplex, 
That he sung Rule Britannia, and thought 'twas the text. 

Li is for Zetland, an English peer 
Who likes to see bread and potatoes sold dear ; 
He is very kind to a stranger in need — 
This Political Alphabet take home and read. 

Birt, Printer, 39, Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials, London. 

Look at me : Then comes answer like ABC. 


AVe gather from a paper which was written by an old 
pressman, who died, a few years ago, in the Clerkenwell 
AVorkhouse, a good deal of matter relative to Catnach. The 
paper is illustrative of many of the eccentricities of Jemmy 
Catnach, but there is very little in it as to the mode in which 
he spent his life, whilst his early career is never spoken of. 
This may have arisen from the fact that very few, save his 
more intimate friends were cognizant with his youthful 

The preliminary .remarks to the article are perhaps a 
little too severe. The writer stigmatizes Jemmy as having 
been a "plodding, ignorant, dirt}', successful individual," 
this, to say the least, is rather a harsh assertion. To say that 
he was ignorant and dirty is a base calumny, to which many 
of his old friends can testify. The peculiar place where he 
pitched his tent, and where he spent the best years of his 
life, together with the queer and mysterious customers that 
he was in the habit of doing business with, most certainly 
did not add many charms to the man, or to the locality; 
but as to dirtiness, we never heard the least suspicion laid 
to his charge. He was, we must admit, extremely singular 
both in dress and manners. 

In dress he was very indifferent — almost eccentric. He 
seldom wore a coat, and he never appeared so much at ease 
than when in his shirt-sleeves and a white apron, with a 
bib coming close up to his neck. When business matters 
compelled him to go abroad, it was invariably his custom 
to put over his shoulders a loose cloth tippet, and to tliis 
must be added a paper cap, common to printers, at other 
times a low-crowned or cut-down hat. In the eyes of the 
Londoner's this mode of apparel would now appear 
ludicrously strange ; but north-country people are very 
fomiliar with the " shirt-sleeve costume," and fifty years ago 
it was nearly as common in the northern counties as the 
" shepherd's plaid," which, even at the present day, in 


some of the border villages, is worn by a few of the oldest 
male inhabitants 

Behind Catnach's shop in Monmouth Court was a small 
parlour, and this place was converted into a printing-office. 
It presented an odd appearance, and to the nervous and 
timid mind the ceiling of this room was anything but assur- 
ing; but it never troubled the mind of the principal occupant. 
The " Old Pressman " thus describes the place, and the 
appliances in it : " The printing-office was in a little back 
parlour. In it was an old wooden demy two-pull press, 
which, when in full work, would raise the floor above it, to 
which the steadying-beams were attached, several inches, 
and would rock the old four-poled bedstead, which stood 
immediately overhead, like a cradle every time the bar- 
handle was pulled home." It was in this apartment where 
many of the north-country lads, of whom we have previously 
spoken, met at night and talked over the affairs of the day. 

There can be little doubt that Catnach justly earned the 
distinction of being one of the great pioneers in the cause 
of promoting cheap literature — he was for a long time the 
great Msecenas and Elzevir of the Seven Dials district. We 
do not pretend to say that the productions which emanated 
from his establishment contained much that was likely to 
enlighten the intellect, or sharpen the taste of the ordinary 
reader ; but, to a great extent, they served well in creating 
an impetus in the minds of many to soar after things of a 
higher and more ennobling character. Whilst for the little 
folk his store was like the conjuror's bag— inexhaustible. 
He could cater to the taste and fancies of all, and it is 
marvellous, even in these days of a cheap press, to look 
back upon the time when this enterprising man was, by a 
steady course of action, so paving the way for that bright 
day in the annals of Britain's history, when every child m 
the land should be educated. 






Little Boys and Girls will find 
At Catnach's something to their mind 
From great variety may choose, 
What will instruct them and amuse. 
The prettiest plates that you can find, 
To please at once the eye and mind, 
In all his little books appear, 
In natural beauty, shining clear ; 
Instruction unto youth when given, 
Points the path from earth to heaven. 

He sells by Wholesale and Retail, 
To suit all moral tastes can't fail. 


Catnach, to the day of his retirement from business in 
1838, when he purchased the freehold of a disused pubUc- 
house, which had been known as the Lion Inn, together, 
with the grounds attached at Dancer's Hill, South Mimms, 
near Barnet, in the county of Middlesex, worked and toiled 
in the office of the " Seven Dials Press," in which he had 
moved as the pivot, or directing mind, for upwards of a 
quarter of a century. He lived and died a bachelor. His 
only idea of all earthly happiness and mental enjoyment was 
now to get away in retirement to a convenient distance from 
his old place of business, so to give him an opportunity occa- 
sionally to go up to town and have a chat and a friendly glass 
with one or two old paper-workers and ballad-writers, and a 
few others connected with his peculiar trade who had shown 
any disposition to work when work was to be done. To 
them he was always willing to give or advance a few pence 
or shillings, in money or stock, and a glass — 

" Affliction's sons are brothers in distress ; 
A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss ! " 

But Jemmy knew the men that were " skulkers," as he 
termed them, and there was no cpin, stock, or a glass for 
them. He invariably drank whiskey, a spirit not in general 
demand in England in those days. Gin was then, as now, 
the reigning favourite with the street folks. When the 
question was put to him in reference to his partiality to 
whiskey, he always replied — the Scotch blood proudly rising 
in his veins, and with a strong Northumberland burr, which 
never wholly forsook him, particularly when warmed by 
argument or drink — that, " He disdained to tipple with 
* stuff,' by means of which all the women of the town got 
drunk. I am of Catnach. Yes ! there 's Catnach blood in 
me. Catnach — King Catnach — Catnach, King of the Pict^. 
We descend in a right straight line from the Picts. That 's 
the sort of blood-of-blood that flows in the veins of all the 


true-bred Catnach's." Jemmy would be for continually 
arguing when in his cups, and the old and the more artful 
of the street-folk would let him have all the say and grandeur 
that he then felt within him on the subject, well knowing 
that they would be much more likely to have their glasses 
replenished by agreeing with him than by contradicting him. 
Even in his sober moments Jemmy always persisted, right 
or wrong, that the Catnach's, or Catternach's, were descended 
direct from a King of the Picts. Yet, what is somewhat 
anomalous, he was of himself a rigid churchman and a 
staunch old Tory, " one of the olden time," and " as full of 
the glorious Constitution as the first volume of Blackstone." 

An anecdote is told of him, which goes .a long way to 
establish his claim to be ranked amongst the true Constitu- 
tionists. " He, having invited a few Alnwick friends to 
spend a day with him in London, resolved, after dinner, to 
take a walk with them into the suburbs. Upon the road 
various subjects were introduced, and amongst the lot was 
politics. Jemmy,- and one of the party, who, by-the-bye, 
was a Radical of the extreme caste, got to very high words. 
Suddenly Catnach turned upon his heels and bade the 
company good-day, exclaiming with the next breath that 
he would not associate with one who was little better than 
the ' scum of the countr}'.' " 

On Catnach's retirement from the business, he left it to 
Mrs. Anne Ryle, his sister, charged, nevertheless, to the 
amount of ;!£"i,ooo, payable at his death to the estate of his 
niece, Marion Martha Ryle. In the meanwhile Mr. James 
Paul acted as managing man for Mrs. Ryle. This Mr. 
Paul — of whom Jemmy was very^ fond, and rumour saith, 
had no great dislike to the mother — had grown from a boy 
to a man in the ofiicg of the " Catnach Press." He was, 
therefore, well acquainted with the customers, by whom he 
was much respected ; and it was by his tact and judgment 
that the business was kept so well together. He married a 


Miss Crisp, the daughter of a publican in the immediate 
neighbourhood. At Catnach's death he entered into part- 
nership with Mrs. Ryle, and the business was carried on 
under the title and style of Paul & Co. At the end of one 
of the farthing series of children's books, entitled "The 
Tragical Death of an Apple Pie, who was cut to pieces and 
eaten by twenty-five Gentlemen, with whom All Little 
People ought to be acquainted," we find the following 
ingenious trade announcement, " If my little readers are 
pleased with what they have found in this book they have 
nothing to do but to run to J. Paul & Co's., 2 and 3, Mon- 
mouth Court, 7 Dials, where they may have a great variety 
of books not less entertaining than this of the same size and 
price." In 1845 the partnership existing between Mrs. 
Ryle and Paul was dissolved, Mr. Paul receiving ;;^8oo in 
settlement. He then entered into the public line, taking 
the Spencer's Arms, at the corner of Monmouth Court. A 
son that was born to him in 1847, he had christened James 
Catnach Paul. He died in the year 1870, just six weeks 
after Mrs. Ryle, and lies buried in the next grave but one 
to Catnach and his sister. 

After Mr. Paul had left the business it was carried on as 
A. Ryle & Co., and ultimately became to be the property 
of Mr. W. S. Fortey, who still carries on the old business in 
the same premises. A copy of whose trade announcement 
runs thus : — 

"The Catnach Press." (Established 1813.) 

"William S. Fortey, (late A. Ryle, successor, to the late J. Catnach) 
Printei", Publisher, and Wholesale Stationer, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court, 
Seven Dials, London, W.C. 

"The cheapest and greatest variety in the trade of large coloured 
penny books ; half-penny coloured books ; farthing books ; penny and 
half-penny panoramas ; school books ; penny and half-i:>enny sdiig 
books ; memorandum books ; poetry cards ; lotteries ; ballads (4,000 • 
sorts) and hymns; valentines; scripture sheets; Christmas pieces; 



Twelfth-night chamctei-s ; carols; book and sheet almanacks; envelopes, 
note paper, &c., &c. 

" W. S. Fortey begs to inform his friends and the public generally, 
that after 19 years' service, he has succeeded to the business of his late 
employers, (A. Ryle and Co.), and intends carrying on the same, trust- 
ing that his long experience will be a recommendation, and that no 
exertion shall be wanting on his part to merit a continuance of those 
favours that have been so liberally bestowed on that establishment 
during the last 56 years." 


Catnach did not long enjoy or survive his retirement. 
After the novelty of looking, as the poet Cowper puts it, 
and no doubt in his case found it, " Through the loop-holes 
of retreat, to see the stir of the Great Babel, and not feel 
the crowd," had worn itself out, "James Catnach, Gentle- 
man, formerly of Monmouth Court, Monmouth Street, 
Printer," grew dull in his "Old Bachelor's Box;" he was 
troubled with hyiDOchondriasis, and a liver overloaded with 
bile, and was further off than ever from being a happy man. 
He had managed to rake and scrape together — as far as w'e 
can get any knowledge — some ;^5,ooo or p^6,ooo, although 
;,^io,ooo and upwards is mostly put down to him. How- 
ever, he had grabbed for and caught a fair amount of " siller 
and gold," but it failed to realize to him — 

An elegant sufficiency, content. 
Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, 
Ease and alternate labour, useful life, 
Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven ! 

No ! all he had realized was that unenviable position so 
popularly known as of a man not knowing what to do with 
himself. His visits to town were now much more frequent 
and of longer duration, and for hours he would sit and 
loiter about the shops and houses of his old neighbours, so 
that he might catch a glimpse, or enjoy a friendly chat with 
his old friends and customers. At length he got sick at 
heart, "wearied to the bone," and sighed for the bustle of" 
London life. 


From the following letter written to his sister, INIrs. Ryle, 
in 1840, and now before us, we glean something of his state 
of mind and bodily health : — 

July 4th, '40. 
Dear Sister, — 

I have been very ill for these last three weeks. I was 
obliged to send for Dr. Morris to Cup me, which did some good for a 
few days, since then the pains have gone into my breast and ribs, and 
for the last three days I have kept my bed, and could take nothing but 
a little tea and water-gruel. I wish you to procure me 6 Bills to stick 
on my window shutters, outside and in, "This House to be Let," and 
send them with y^ lb. Tea as soon as possible — but do not send them 
by Salmon's Coach, for he will not leave them at Jackson's as Wild 
does, but sends a boy with it, which costs me double porterage. I feel 
the loss of my jelly now I am so ill, and can eat little or nothing, it 
would have done my throat good. I ha\-e a great crop of black and red 
berries [currants] if you choose I will send them up, and you can make 
some jelly for us both ; let me know as soon as you can, say Wednesday 
morning and I will make the Postwoman call for the parcel at Jackson's. 
I also wish you to enquire of Carr what is the lowest he will take for 
the rooms over Mrs. Morgan, by the j^ year. 

I have nothing more to say but to be remembered to Maiy and Paul, 
and remain 

Pray send a Paper of the Execution of the Valet, and the trial of 
Oxford— Mi-s. AVestly has not sent me I paper since I was last in town 
— neither has Thornton. 

Mrs. Ryle, 

2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 
Compton Street, 



Ultimately Catnach hired the rooms he speaks about in 
the body of his letter to his sister, which were on the first 
floor of No. 6, Monmouth Court. All the vacant space in 
his old premises being now fully occupied by Mrs. Ry!e and 
her assistants, now " the humble cottage fenc'd with osiers 
round," which to his leisure afforded no pleasure, was 
entirely deserted, and in London he fretted out the remain- 
ing portion of his life. He soon grew peevish, and his brain 
got a little out of balance, then he listlessly wandered in and 
out of the streets, courts, and alleys, " infirm of purpose." 
On stormy days and nights to stand and view the lightning 
from Waterloo Bridge was his special delight and wonder. 
His temper and liver were now continually out of order, and 
which whiskey, even " potations pottle deep," failed to 
relieve. At length he died of jaundice, in the very London 
court in which he had mucked and grubbed for the best 
part of his life, on the first day of February, 1841. Like 
other great men of history he 'has several locales men- 
tioned as his final resting-place — Hornsey, Barnet, South 
Mimms, &c. 

Ui'hes, certaj'iint septein de patria Homeri, 
Nulla domus vivo patria fuit. 

Seven cities strove, whence Homer first should come. 
When living, he no country had nor home : — Tom Nash, 1 599. 

Seven Grecian cities vied for Homer dead. 
Through which the living Homer begged his bread. 

Seven cities vied for Homer's birth, with emulation pious, — 
Salamis, Samos, Colophon, Rhodes, Argos, Athens, Chios. 

— Fro7>i the Greek. 

But Catnach lies buried in Highgate Cemetery, in one of 
the two plots that Mrs. Ryle purchased sometime previous 


to her brother's death. The official number of the grave 
is 256, Square 29, over which is placed a flat stone, 
inscribed : — 



Of Dancei's Hill. 


Aged 49. 


Sister to the above, and widow of Joseph Ryle, who died in 

India, loth October, 1823. She died 20th April, 1870, 

Aged 75. 

Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord. 

The freehold in the other plot of ground, after Catnach's 
death, was transferred to Mr. Robert Palmer Harding, the 
accountant of London, who married Catnach's niece. The 
stone records the death of Elizabeth Cornelia, third 
daughter of Robert Palmer Harding and Marion Martha 
Harding, born 9 June, 1848, died 8 November, 1848; and 
(iREviLLE, second son of the above, born 29 May, 1856, 
died 3 September, 1856. This grave is now numbered 5179. 
We have been thus minute in respect to Catnach's grave, 
from the circumstance of our having received so many 
contradictory statements as to its whereabouts. But, how- 
ever, we have removed all doubt from our mind by a 
personal visit to the Highgate Cemetery, where, under the 
guidance of the very civil and obliging superintendent of 
the grounds, Mr. W. F. Tabois, we were conducted to the 
spot we required, then introduced to Mr. Marks, the sexton, 
" here man and boy thirty years," and whom we found very 
intelligent and communicative on various subjects — 

" From g7-ave to gay, from lively to severe." 


The murder of Lord William Russell by his Swiss valet 
Francois Benjamin Courvoisier, in the year i84q, excited 
immense interest at the time of its occurrence, not only 
from the position in society of its ill-fated victim, but from 
the strange combination of circumstances that led to the 
conviction of the culprit. The trial of the prisoner 
commenced at the Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey, on 
the morning of Thursday, the 17th of June, and terminated 
on Saturday evening following. 

The counsel for the prosecution were Mr. Adolphus, 
Mr. Bodkin, and Mr. Chambers, and for the prisoner, Mr. 
Charles Phillips and Mr. Clarkson. The attorney for the 
prosecution was Mr. Hobler, and for the prisoner Mr. 
Flower. Lord Chief Justice Tindal, Mr. Baron Parke and 
the Common Sergeant presided. 

On the prisoner being placed in the dock, the Clerk of 
the Arraigns then proceeded to read over the indictment, 
and told him, that as he was an alien, he had the privilege 
of being tried by a jury composed half of foreigners and 
half of Englishmen, and asked him whether he wished to 
have six of the jurors foreigners, or whether he was content 
with a jury consisting entirely of Englishmen. The prisoner 
replied that he was content to be tried by Englishmen. 
Lord Chief Justice Tindal then directed the foreign jury to be 
discharged. The prisoner having pleaded Not Guilty, Mr. 
Adolphus rose to address the jury for the prosecution. 

The case for the prosecution closed at twenty minutes to 
eight on Friday night. On the next day, the jury having 
been re-sworn, Mr Charles Phillips, commonly known as 
" Charley Phillips," and the greatest " Thieves Counsel " 
and blustering, bullying, blackguard Old Bailey barrister 
of the day, commenced his memorable address on behalf 
of the prisoner. The effect of the learned gentleman's 
address was very visible on almost every person in the court ; 
it was not only admirable for its eloquence, but a remarkable 


illustration of the ease with which an ingenious advocate 
may pervert the best developed train of evidence, and out 
of his own subtilty make the worse appear the better 
argument. The effect it had on the jury was to make them 
hesitate on their verdict for full an hour and a half; and 
considering that the confession of the culprit has set at rest 
all questions of his guilt, it is painful to reflect how the 
accorded permission to prisoners to address juries by 
counsel, may be made the means of violating the stern 
demands of justice. There is now no doubt that on the 
extraordinary and unexpected discovery of the missing plate 
during the progress of the trial, and the fact that Madame 
riolani had identified the prisoner as the man who had left 
that plate in her charge, that he became dreadfully agitated 
and sent for Mr. Charles Phillips, to whom he at once confes- 
sed his guilt, and that before Mr. Phillips had delivered the 
speech in his defence, in which, among other things, heun- 
blushingly said, "The God above alone knows who is guilty 
of the terrible act of which the prisoner stands accused," the 
whole speech afterwards became the subject of much com- 
ment and public discussion as to whether such a speech, under 
such circumstances, was or was not an abuse of the privilege 
of counsel — some contending that counsel are bound by 
all means within their power to save their clients from the 
consequences even of admitted crimes, others contending 
that the privilege of counsel is accorded to prisoners for the 
due and just administration of the laws — to protect the 
innocent from wrongful conviction, not to pervert the ends 
of justice, and the whole object of the existence of criminal 
courts ; and that, therefore, no sophistry — no professional 
practice or compact — can justify a man retained for one 
kno^^^l to be guilty in doing more than protecting his client 
from illegal conviction. 

Following are the two concluding paragraphs, which we 
give as a fair specimen of the whole : — 

E E 

41 8 1^XPI£ AND TIMES UJt^ 

"And now, gentlemen, having travelled through this case of 
mystery and darkness, my anxious and painful task is ended. But, 
gentlemen, your's is about to commence, and I can only say, may 
Almighty God guide you to a just conclusion ! The issues of life and 
death are in your hands. To you it gives to consign that man once 
more to the enjoyments of existence and the dignity of freedom ; or to 
send him to an ignominious death, and to brand upon his grave the 
awful epithet of a murderer. Gentlemen, mine has been a painful and 
awful task ; but still more awful is the responsibility attached to the 
decision upon the general facts or circumstances of the case. To violate 
the living temple which the Lord hath made — to quench the fire within 
a man's breast, is an awful and a terrible responsibility, and the 
decision of ' Guilty, ' once pronounced, let me remind you, is irrevocable. 
Speak not that word lightly — speak it not on suspicion, however strong 
— upon moral conviction, however apparently well-grounded — upon 
inference — upon doubt — or upon anything but the broad, clear, 
irresistible noon-day conviction of the truth of what is alleged. 

' ' I speak to you thus in no hostile feeling : I speak to you as a 
brother and a fellow Christian. I thus remind you of your awful 
responsibility. I tell you that, if you condemn that man lightly, or 
upon mere suspicion consign him to an ignominious death, the 
recollection of the deed will never die witliin you. If you should 
pronounce your awful verdict without a deep and irresistible conviction 
of his guilt, your crime will be present to you during the rest of your 
lives — it will pursue you with remorse, like a shadow, in your crowded 
walks — it will render your death-bed one of horror — and, taking the 
form of that man's spirit, it will condemn and sink you before the 
judgment-seat of your God ! So beware, I say, beware what you do ! " 

The result of the discussions that arose out of Mr. 
Charles Phillip's speech, was that that gentleman never 
appeared again in a criminal court of justice ; he received 
an appointment, and accepted it, as a commissioner in the 
Court of Bankruptcy, which he retained until his death. 



The following is a fac-similc of the " Execution Paper," 
from the i)res,s of I'aul and Co. 



Murder of Lord Wm. Russell. 


<k« »on wd— " How 

KHir TfnLcl ? Do JQQ 

Thf of Hi. ji .. . _ . 

Ttr Clttl of the Coart tlim uic 

ifo atlBd otn, Kiid Ut« cj«rk of 

priKotr Gailli or Not Omit; of 

he ■itodt chtrvod >" 

li» .oic«, uid-" W. iBd biiD 

Pran9ou B«oji 
lleJ Lord ^ 

in90U B«oji 
CairiT of tl.« •iirj 

lia Coor. 
>v.rd« of 
Baaoll : 

I 00 npir Tli« (uiuJ ( 


T»« loMB Chiw Jimio* TiRDAi, lutio; p<i ot ft» ku<k 
<B^ asid : Flu«oi> Bmjioin CoorTouiir, fog Ura tieeii found 
, I1U7 bf ao iot'Ili^oDt, pitieot, tod impartial inn of (h* mm« ^r 
wilfol monirr. Tbat crioo baa btifcn aaubliab 
iw!c«d bj tbe laCinony of eyo>*itii(ad« aa to 
"haio of eircumsiaiicr^ no loa uoamog, wbich 
f tour piUt io the ininik of tba 11117, and all 
nal It ta onlainod bj diTise aotbonlj that 

jutice. and thia orJioatioD baa boM «x:mpti 

ajainal jou, not 
a fact, bat bf a 

»a Ua no doubt 

"1 brcn^t 1 


of BTldcOC 

JKT. Tba a 

r of nigbt, haa •> 

aU ihia gmlt; aot 

oiplo; (he aliort time yon bate 

ttleaa b<aD broogbt deail; to lijbt by 
t frecaa ootitc abicb ioduMd you to 
uolf ba known to yoar o»n cooaciaaoe; 
I rjo to recoomend you tooat etmeatly 
in prayar and rerpeoUOM, 
' itat /.Imlghty Baia( 

Tha aoart vaa 1.77 much eraadad to tba UaL 


Aflat tba t^aniad Jndj^t htd puaaO aeatnea 00 tba eooTial, 
• oaa nmond from tha bar, aid iBoadiaul; naia • fail mlm. 
ua •/ hia fuill. 


Al etgbt ' 


oc«d. witboot loohiog roQDd bim. 

t pintform, follovad by tba eieoutionar tod tha 

orJlu/T or tha pnaon, tha Rn. iir CarTer. On hia appcaranna a 

»aw yell, of uecmtion scapad frera a f ortion of the crowd , bal 

Iha (anaral (x>dy of tbe paopla, gr»al u moat bare baaa Ibeir 

■■ Trenoa of bia atT'noui enrae, rmaiuad ailnl apeotalora of tba 

I wbieb »ia piuains bofore tbeir eje* Tha pnaonaTa nanaar 

tnorkad by ao ouaordiRarr appearance of flrmaaaa. Hia alap 

et#ady and cclleciad. and bu movrmeou free from tha alifbl<sl 

nm of SKh dejaation, bat it vaa at t&a tana uaaa' calm and 

PMn • Co, Frilly t, «, I 

ritfaiD tba other) np and down I _ ,_ 

limaa; and thij waa tbe only vuible aymptom of any aiBotua- 
or raealal anguiak which tba wniubed ro.o endured. Bia boa *m 
than oorer»d >ritb tha cap, fitting ao eloaely aa not to conoMil (h* 
<niUine.ofhiaeoontCTan«e,thenooa«waathenadiort»d. During ths 
openlion be lifted up hta bead and railed hia handa to hia bmaC 
aa if in the action of ferrent prayer In a moBoent tha fatal bcttl 
wiu wilbdrami. tha drop fell, and in Ibia attilude tba miDdtnr 
perubad. He died wiil.out any riolenl ilrugele In tvo oiiulM. 
afUr he bad faUen bia lega wore twice iligbUy eonrolaad, but m 
further mouoo waa obnerrabla, eicepting that hia rained arm^ 
gndoaJly toeing tbeir viulity, eank down from th«r ova tiftl^ 
weigh L 

After bani^ng ooa boor, tha bodj vaa nidon ud rtamt 


luenlion jite both old and fount. 
Of high and Io. degrae. ^ 

Thiok while thia mournful tale ia aalM, 
Of my aad miaery 

To me haj been a friend, 
Poi abich 1 muat my life ivigg. 

To gaao 00 my approaebing. 
And vitaeii ny diagracs. 

Then many aympal 
Who faal another 

n I 
I n>kb'd 

Mf ba«la are djed with bumaa fan 
nooo can waah off the etain, 

Bol the maritj of a Sanoor. 
Whoea mercy alone I eraeai 

Oood Cbnatiana nray. at Ik* I «^ 

, C«HV (aea. OkH 


The duel behveen the Earl of Cardigan and Captain 
Tuckett — " Two military cads, Sir, who met on Wimbledon 
Common, September 12, 1840, and had a couple of shots 
at each other with rifle pistols, when on the second firing 
my Earl hit the Captain very near to that part he used to sit 
upon, then a signal was given and up went the medical chap, 
Sir James Edward Anderson, especially engaged for the part 
at an enormous expense, and said the Capt'n had better be 
taken home to his mother and put to bed. Yes, Sir, that 
job made a bit of a blaize for three or four months, that is 
up to the time the Earl played the principal part in the 
farce of being tried in the House of Lords before his Peers, 
when they — Earl being a pal of their'n — pronounced him 
*Not Guilty, upon their Honour and Glory, Hallelujah 
Amen.' You see, Sir, my Earl of Cardigan was no favourite 
of the people, and all us street-patterer's made the most we 
could out of that fact ; we let him have it to-rights, I can tell 
you, and song after song, and ' cock,' or catchpenny after 
catchpenny, was printed in quick sticks. Yes, and they all 
sold well, I can tell you." 

J A MRS CA TiVA CH. 421 

We have sho^vn that one of Catnach's sisters, Mrs. Anne 
— baptized Nancy, married a soldier — a Waterloo man, 
named Joseph Ryle, with whom she went to India, where 
she had one daughter, ]\Iarion Martha, who afterwards 
inherited Catnach's property, and is now the wife of Mr. 
Robert Palmer Harding, a London accountant. Mary 
Catnach became the wife of a sailor named Haines, who 
was a mate in one of the training ships stationed at 
Portsmouth, and they kept a shop in Gosport for the sale of 
small wares and ballads, acting as a sort of wholesale agent 
for the surrounding district for Catnach. Elizabeth married 
Mr. Benton, who was for many years a confidential servant, 
assistant treasurer, and box-book keeper to Mr. Alfred Bunn, 
of Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatres. At one 
period Benton and his wife lived with Mr. Bunn in St. 
James' Place, St. James' Street, Mrs. Benton acting in the 
capacity of housekeeper. During several seasons Mr. 
Benton was also treasurer for the proprietors of Vauxhall 
Gardens, afterwards he filled the same office for E. T. Smith 
— Dazzle Smith ! at Cremorne Gardens. He died abroad 
in 1856. At the present time of writing, his widow is 
living in the London district. Julia, the youngest sister, 
was a little loose in her intellect and morals—" She loved 
not wisely, but too well ! " but ultimately married and 
settled in Sydney, N. S. W. Of all the sisters, Mrs. Ryle 
was the only one that could manage her brother best. She 
was of a motherly turn of mind, and was particularly 
shrewd and modest in her manners and conversation, and 
of active business habits. 

For the purpose of clearing up, if possible, some 
contradictory statements, a few years ago we made personal 
search through the musty-fusty and red-tapeism of Doctors' 
Commons for the Will and Testament — or " Last Dying 
Speech " of " James Catnach, of Dancer's Hill, South 
Mimms, in the county of Middlesex, Gentleman, formerly 


of Monmouth Court, Monmouth Street, Printer," an office 
copy of which, together with Probate and Administration 
Act, we give below, by which it will be seen that the 
Personal Effects are sworn to as under three hundred 
pounds. But this gives us no idea of the value of his 
" Freehold, Copyhold, or Leasehold Estate " mentioned in 
the body of the Will. 

" Extracted from the principal Registry 
of Her Majesty's Court of Probate. 
" In the Prerogative Court of Canterbury — 

"€1^10 10 \l^t la0t WMW ant rretamfnt of me 

JAMES CATNACH of Dancers Hill South Mimms in the 
County of Middlesex Gentleman formerly of Monmouth 
Court Monmouth Street Printer I direct that my just debts 
funeral and testamentary expences be paid as soon as 
conveniently may be after my decease and subject thereto 
I give devise and bequeath all my real and personal Estate 
whatever and wheresoever and of what nature or kind soever 
to my Sister Anne the Widow of Joseph Ryle now residing 
in Monmouth Court aforesaid her heirs executors and 
administrators according to the nature and qualities thereof 
respectively In trust nevertheless for her Daughter Marion 
Martha Ryle her heirs executors administrators and assigns 
respectively when she shall attain the age of twenty one 
years absolutely with power in the meantime to apply the 
rents interest dividends or proceeds thereof for and towards 
the maintenance education and advancement of the said " 
Marion Martha Ryle and notwithstanding the private means 
of my said Sister may be adequate to such purpose but if 
the said Marion Martha Ryle shall depart this life before 
she shall attain the age of twenty one years then I give 
devise and bequeath all my said real and personal Estate to 
my said Sister her heirs executors administrators and assigns 
absolutely I hereby direct that during the minority of the 


said Marion Martha Ryle it shall be lawful for the said Anne 
Ryle her heirs executors administrators to demise or lease 
all or any part of my freehold copyhold or leasehold Estate 
for any term consistent with the tenure thereof not 
exceeding twenty one years so that on every such demise 
the best yearly rent be reserved that can be obtained for the 
property which shall be therein comprised without taking 
any fine or premium and so that the tenant or lessee be not 
made dispunishable for waste I hereby nominate constitute 
and appoint my said Sister sole Executrix of this my Will 
and hereby revoking all former and other Wills by me at 
any time heretofore made I declare this to be my last Will 
and Testament In ^vitness whereof I have hereunto set my 
hand the twenty second day of January one thousand 
eight hundred and thirty nine— JAMES CATNACH— 
Signed and acknowledged by the above named James 
Catnach as and for his last Will and Testament in the 
presence of us present at the same time who in his presence 
and the presence of each other have hereunto set our names 
as Witnesses— William Kinsey 13 Suffolk St. Pall Mall 
Solr.— Wm. Tookey his Clerk." 

[The Probate and Administration Act.] 

" Extracted from the principal Registry 
of Her Majesty's Court of Probate 
" In the Prerogative Court of Canterbury — 
April, 1842. 
" JAMES CATNACH— On the second day of April 
administration (with the Will annexed) of the Goods 
Chattels and Credits of James Catnach formerly of 
Monmouth Court Monmouth Street Printer but late of 
Dancers Hill South Mimms both in the county of Middle- 
sex Gentleman deceased was granted to William Kinsey 
Esquire the Curator or Guardian lawfully assigned to Marion 
Martha Ryle Spinster a Minor the Niece and usufructuary 


Universal Legatee until she shall attain the age of twenty 
one years and the absolute Universal Legatee on attaining 
that age named in the said Will for the use and benefit of 
the said Minor and until she shall attain the age of twenty 
one years having been first sworn duly to administer Anne 
Ryle Widow the Sister sole Executrix Universal Legatee In 
trust and the contingent universal Legatee named in the 
said Will and also the natural and lawful Mother and next 
of kin of the said minor having first renounced the probate 
and execution of the said Will and the Letters of adminis- 
tration (with the said Will annexed) of the Goods of the 
said deceased and also the Curation or Guardianship of the 
said Minor and consented (as by Acts of Court appear). — 

It is gratifying to be able to record that what the late 
Mr. Catnach was to the masses in the way of news provider 
some forty years ago, the penny papers are now, with this 
exception, that the former tended to lower and degrade 
their pursuit after knowledge, the latter, on the contrary, 
improve and elevate them, while they amuse and instruct 
all who peruse their contents. With the march of intellect, 
and the ^^thirst for knowledge blended with the desire for 
truth, out went, to a great extent, the penny broad-sheet. 
Several persons made the attempt to revive it long after the 
death of the great original Jemmy Catnach, but without 



Addington, Mr., of Enfield ... 252 
Adolphus, Mr., barrister ... 416 

JEnal Ship, The 219 

yErostation 219 

A Flight to America 267 

A Funny Dialogue 334 

Agony Bill, The ... ... 264 

Allen, James 1 ' ' Female Hus- 
band" 191 

Allen, Jamie, Northumbrian 
Piper... ... ... ... 19 

All Round the Room 274 

Alnwick, an Ancient Borough i 

,, Castle 2 

,, Half Moon Tavern... 4 
,, Haymarket Theatre 5 

, , Green Bat, Love Lane 5 
,, Reminiscences of ... 158 
,, Journal ... ... 158 

,, A Freeman of ... 160 
,, The Four- and-Twenty 161 

,, History of 161 

,, Making Freeman of 162 

,, Changes at 163 

,, Petition of Freemen 164 

,, Mechanic's Institute 399 

Alphabet, A Political ... 283 400 

Agnew, Sir Andrew 264 

A new song on the birth of the 

Prince of Wales 
Ann Williams, "Copy 

Verses " on ... 
Artists for street-work... 
Ashford, Mary, Murder of 




Ballads, Old and Border 

Barton, General 

Bay Cottage, Edmonton 

Beauties of Natural History ... 

Bebbington, printer ... 

Beckwith, Mr., gimsmith 

Beer, "I loves a drop of good " 

Beilby, Bros., of Newcastle ... 

Bell Inn, Edmonton ... 

Benton, Mrs., Catnach's sister 

Bergami, ' ' N'ott mi recordo "... 

Berkshire, Mr. Peter, of the 
Devil's Dyke 

Bewick Collector, The 8, 26, 

Bewick, Thomas, wood-engra- 
ver ... I, 6, 12, 23, 25, 

Billy Bone 

Billy Purvis, comedian 

Birnie, Sir Richard 

Birt, T., printer 

Black Sal and Dusty Bob ... 

Bodkin, Mr., barrister 

Boiled Beef Williams ... 


Boy Jones, The 

Brougham, Mr. Henry 

Brunswick Theatre, Destruc- 
tion of 

Brighton Murder, The 

Bull Theatre, The 

Bunn, Mr. Alfred 

Burbage, J., actor 

Burkers, The Execution of ... 
,, a Drama on... 































Burn's Poetical Works 


Catnach, James, fine art trea- 

Burradore Ghost, The 


sures ... 398 


,, style of dress 405 

Cad man, 

printer, Manchester . 



„ retiresfrombusi- 

Car>', Ml 

. Heniy Francis 


ness ... 408 


James, born at Aha- 

„ a staunch old 

wick, 1792 


Tory ... 409 


,, apprenticed to 


„ in retirement ... 412 

his father ... 



„ a letter to his 


,, commences busi- 

sister ... 413 

ness in London 



„ returns to Lon 


,, his style of trade 


don ... 414 


,, London contem- 


„ his death and 

poraries ... 


burial ... 414 


,, his toy books 



„ Tombstone of... 415 


,, his love of money 



„ Copy of his Will 422 


,, indicted for libel 



John, a printer of 


,, imprisoned six 

Alnwick ... I 




, , apprenticed at 


,, made ;i^5oo by 

Edinburgh 2 

the murder of 


,, in Berwick-on- 

Weare ... 


Tweed ... 2 


„ "Wearealive 


,, toy book manu- 

again" ... 


factory ... IS 


„ at Alnwick Elec- 

,, partnership with 



Davison ... 16 


„ erects a tomb- 


,, removed to New- 

stone at Aln- 

castle ... 28 



,, in London ... 29 


„ and " Mother 

,, hisdeath&bmial 31 

Cummins " 


Mrs., her death ... 160 


,, his broadsides 



Julia 421 


„ at the height of 

Cato Street Conspiracy ... 91 

his fame ... 


C ashman 

John, rioter ... Si 


,, customers paid 

Cave of Hoonga, The 21 



Chambers, Mr., barrister ... 416 


,, was the Leo X. 



Tear, The 202 


,, his wood blocks 



Luke ... 6, n, 12, 16 


,, a dying-speech 

Chevy Chase, Battle of ... 28 

merchant ... 



am Wild Bull ... 23 


,, hisownengravei 


Christmas and broad-sheets ... 291 




Christmas carols 287 

Clarkson, Mr., barrister ... 416 
Coal Act, The new ... ... 229 

"Cocks,"z>., Catchpennies 235, 355 
„ " Full Particulars of 

this Murder" ... 372 

„ " The Love Letter " 375 

„ "All found out at last" 378 

Collins,Dennis, and William IV. 249 

Corder, Wm. 

Sentences on 

his Red Bam 

Likeness of 

Trial of... 

Last dying speech 186 

„ Execution of 

„ Memoirs of 

„ Skeleton of 

,, skin tanned 

Cour\-oisier, murderer... ... 416 

,, Execution of ... 419 

Cries of London ... 56, 59 

Crim. Con., Birch z-. Neale ... 266 

„ „ Cox t-. Kean ... 154 

Crisp, Miss ... ... ... 410 

Croft, Sir Richard 83 

Crownand Horse Shoes, Enfield 251 

Cruikshank, George ... 100, 264 

„ George and Robert no 

Cummin's, "Mother"... ... 199 

„ „ Adventures 

of ... 173 
„ „ Death and 

funeral of 174 
„ „ Life and ca- 
reer of ... 175 

Curtain Theatre, The 56 

Curtis, Mr., an eccentric person 1S8 

Danby, Benjamin C, murder of 252 
Dando, The Oyster Eater ... 335 

Dando, Life and death of ... 336 
Dandy Jim from Caroline ... 272 

Daniel, Mr. George 36 

Davison, W. and John Catnach 

employ Bewick ... i 
„ Partnership with John 

Catnach 16 

„ hischemistryandpupils 17 

„ his politics 18 

,, his collection of prints 23 

,, Death of 25 

Deaf Burk, pugilist ... ... 261 

Dialogue between Butcher and 

Mackerel 334 

Dog's Meat Man, The 225 

Donaldson, Thomas 21 

Donkey Row, Brighton ... 238 

Douglas Jerrold's description of 

a street-ballad singer ... 39 

Duke of Clarence ... ... 212 

,, Kent, death of ... 90 

,, Wellington ... ... 214 

Dunston, Sir Jefteiy ... ... 170 

Dusty Bob ... ... ... 114 

Dyot Street 169 

Edgeware Road Murder ... 280 
Edmonton Church ... ... 259 

Edwards, Eliza, "./vwa/^iJ/aw/" 244 
Enfield, The constables of ... 255 
Evans, T., printer. Long Lane 50 

Fable on the Times 283 

Fare, charged with murder ... 256 

,, found guilty of robbery... 257 

Farr, Mr. R. C, Enfield ... 257 

Fauntleroy, Mr. II. , the banker 151 

„ Trial of 152 

„ Execution of ... 153 

Fawcett, Mr., Covent Garden 

Theatre 166 




Penning, Eliza 79 

Ferguson, Mr., and Queen 

Flower, Mr., attorney 
Ford, printer, Sheffield 
Fordyce, W. and T., printers, 


Fortey, Mr., Catnach's sue 

cesser ... ... 287 

Freeman's Oath, The 







Gamblers, The, at Surrey Theatre 146 

George Fisher, comedian ... 23 

George III., Death of ... 90 

„ IV. „ 212 

Giant Penny Song Books ... 385 

Gilpin, Mrs. John ... ... 259 

Globe Theatre, The 56 

God Saved the Queen... ... 333 

Goldie, Mr., of Alnwick ... 65 

Gosset, Mr. R., Edmonton ... 259 
Graham, printer, Alnwick 32, 156 

Gravel Rash, The 259 

Grave, The, by Blair 12 

Green Bag Mysteiy ... ... 94 

Greenacre, James ... ... 281 

Griffiths, Mrs. 82 

Hackney Coachman, The ... 197 

Haines, Mrs. , Catnach's sister 32 
Haines, Mr,, married Mary 

Catnach ... 421 

Hanger, Major... ... ... 170 

Harding, Mr. Robert Palmer 415 

Harkness, printer, Preston ... 50 

Heavy Wet 216 

Hermit of Warkworth, The ... 7 

Ilighgate Cemetery 414 

Hind, Mr., chemist, Newcastle 16 

Hindmarsh, Miss 21 


Hiorns, sexton 260 

Hobler, Mr., attorney ... 416 

Hodges, printer (from Pitts) ... 50 
Hodson, Rev. H. G., Enfield... 258 
Hole-in -the -Wall, Chancery 

Lane... 177 

HoUoway, J. W., the Brighton 
,, Lamentations of ... 
,, Execution of 
, , his body exposed . . . 
,, Dissection of 
Holywell Lane, Shoreditch ... 
Hone, Mr. W,, publisher 79, 
Hone's " Every Day Book ''... 
Horsley, Mr. James, Alnwick 
Houses of Parliament, Burning 

of the 

Hugo, M.A., Rev. Thomas 8, 
II, 2; 
,, ,, his Bewick Col 

,, ,, his advice to 
Hunt and Thurtell ... 
,, a good singer 
„ found guilty of murder 
Hunt, Mr. Henry, the Radi 

cal ... 80, 89, 228 

,, Matchless Blacking 228 

Hunton, Joseph, the Quaker... 190 

Huth, H., Esq., "Elizabcthian 

Garland" ... ... ... 36 

Indictment, an Ofticial Copy of 84 

Jacques, printer, Manchester... 50 

Jim along Josey 270 

Jim Crow 268 

"John Bull" New.spaper ... 97 

John Morgan, Catnach's Poet ! 173 

Jones, printer, Liverpool ... 50 


. 25 




Johnson, W., charged with 

murder ... 255 
,, Execution of 257 

Kean, Edmund, Faux pas ... 154 

,, ,, Death of ... 154 

Kelly, Alderman 188 

Kemble, Stephen, his Falstaff 5 
Kcnnett, Ann {see Holloway) 

Lackington, famous bookseller ill 

Lamb, Charles, House at Enfield 252 

„ „ fond of a drop of 

good beer ... 253 
,, „ Confession of ... 254 
, , J, at the Crown and 

Horse Shoes... 255 
„ „ charged with 

murder ... 256 

„ „ his literary friends 256 
„ „ removed to Ed- 
monton ... 258 
„ „ house where, he 

died 258 

„ „ Death of, at Ed- 
monton ... 259 
„ „ his gravestone 260 
Legends of Northumberland... 21 

Life in London no 

,, on the Stage ... 112 

,, at the Adelphi 113 

,, at Sadler's Wells 116 

,, at Brighton ... 119 

,, Catnach's Ver- 

sion... ... 121 

,, its language ... 134 

,, dedicated to 

George IV... 135 
Lilly, Mr., bookseller ... 36 
Lindsay, Thos., bookseller ... 4 
Lobster Clause, The 208 

Lloyd, E., Trashy Novels 

,, Literary Pirate 
London Chanticleers, The 
Lover's Walk, The 
Lyon's Inn 





Maginn, Dr., the " Red Bam " 189 
Manchester Reform Meeting ... 89 
Marks, printer. Brick Lane ... 50 
Marten, Maria, Murder of ... 179 
Martin Parker, a verse maker . 40 
Mayhew's" London Labour and 
London Poor" ... ... 51, 76 

May the Queen Live for Ever 303 
McCall, printer, Livei-pool ... 50 
Miller's " Life of a Showman" 23 
Monmouth Street, ... ... 46 

Moore, Tom, The Irish Poet... 177 

New City, or Norton Folgate 

Theatre 335 

Northumberland, Duke of ... 3 

,, Earl of ... 161 

,, Election at .. . 155 

Nursery Rhymes 35 

Odds and Ends for 1830 ... 222 

O God, PreserN'e the Queen ... 332 

Old England's Royal Bride ... 317 

Old Mother Hubbard 67 

Old Mother Pitts 49 

Old Serjeant Inn, Enfield ... 256 

Old Wright, comedian ... 23 

Omnibuses, First pair of ... 195 

Oxford who shot at the Queen 331 

Paddington Coachman, The ... 199 
Paganni... ... ... ... 4 

Paris Gardens ... ... ... 56 

Paul, Mr. James 409 

Peeler, The Righteous ... 210 





Pegsworth, murderer ... 


Queen Caroline, her marriage... 


,, Execution of 


Trial of ... 


Penny Pickwick, by " Bos" ... 


,, ,, her imprudent 

Pepys, a ballad collector 


conduct ... 


,, donation to Cambridge 


,, ,, Verses on, by 

,, at Dog Tavern 


Catnach ... 


Percival, Mr. ... 


,, ,, Elegy on the 

Peterloo Massacre 


death of ... 


Phillips, Charley, " Thieves 

Death of ... 




Queen Victoria... 


Phillips, printer, Brighton 


,, ,, and Sailor Jack 305 

,, the Brighton " Cat- 

,, ,, Marriage of... 




,, ,, Coronation of 


Pierce Egan's" Life in London' 


,. „ and Albert God 

Pinner-up of songs 


bless them 


Pitt, Mr. William 


Queen of the Nice Little Island 


Pitts, John, toy and marble 

Queen's Wedding Cake 




,, his poetry 


Randall, Jack, the Nonparicl. 


Pizzey, Mr., Blackmore Street 


Ready, Mr., murder of 


Poet's Corner 


Red Barn at Polstead, The ... 


Police, The New, in 1829 ... 


,, the body of Maria 

,, ,, in the City of 

Marten in 


London . . . 


Reform Bill of 1 83 1, The ... 


Effects of... 


1832 ... 


,, ,, I 'm one of 206 

Repository of street literature . 




Rice, T. D.— Jim Crow 


,, ,, Flowerofthe 


Robinson, Sandy, printer 


Policemanof Somer'sTown 203, 


Mr. R., of Newcastle 


Pratt, printer, Birmingham ... 


,, Mr. Thos., Alnwick 


Preston, adjoining Brighton ... 


,, Mr. John, Alnwick 


Princess Charlotte 


Rocliff, printer. Old Gravel Lane 


Prince Henry's Players 


Royal Nuptials, The 


Prince Leopold 


Roxburghe Ballads, The 


Prince of Wales, The birth of. . . 


Russell, Lord William 


Printing Press, Alnwick 


Russell, printer, Birmingham . 


Prest, T., Lloyd's Novelist ... 


Ruthven, G., Bow Street Officer 


Probert, Execution of 


Ryle, Mrs. Anne 


,, Miss Marion Martha ... 


Queen Adelaide 


,, Mr. Joseph 


Queen Caroline, Birth of 




Sam Weller's adventures . . . 276 
Searle, Mr. R., of Enfield ... 258 
Selden, John, his ballads, Saz. 43 
Service, Mr. James ... ... 21 

Seven Bards of the Seven Dials 49 

Seven Dials ^wA Jemmy Catnach 44 

,, sketched by Boz ... 44 

,, by Charles Knight 44 

,, by Evelyn... ... 44 

,, by Gay, in "Trivia" 45 

,, Literature of ... 45 

,, Removal of ... 45 

,, and Alljert Smith 47 

,, at Wey bridge Green 48 

A Bard of 176 

Shanke, the comic actor ... 56 

Sherwood and Co., publishers no 

,, ,, " Real Life in 

London". 112 
Shilliber, and London omni- 
buses ... ... ... ... 195 

Simon Byrne, pugilist 261 

,, ,, Death of . 262 

Skelly, Mr. G., of Alnwick 159, 160 

Smith, Albert 47, 362 

Smith, Mark, of Alnwick, ap- 
prenticed to John 
Catnach ... 16 

,, ,, in London ... 29 

,, ,, and the Catnach 

family ... 29 

,, ,, in Alnwick ... 155 

,, ,, and London ... 156 

Smith, E. T. , i. e. , Dazzle Smith ! 42 1 

Soho Bazaar, The ... ... 193 

Song, " The Young Prig " ... 171 
Somer's Town Butcher, The ... 203 
Sorrowful Lamentations ... 75 


Spa Field's Riots ... ... 80 

Stage-Coachman's Lament ... 200 

Steam Coachman, The ... 220 

,, Carriages ... ... 221 

,, Washing Company, The 231 

Stockdale, Percival ... ... 7 

Swan Theatre, The 56 

Swindells, printer, Sheffield ... 50 

Tabois, Mr. W. F 415 

Tam O' Glanton ... ... 21 

Tate, Mr., of Alnwick ... 4 

Taylor, T\\Q Wafer Foet ... 56 

The boy Jones in the Palace ... 330 

"The Grave," by Robert Blair 12 

"The Minstrel," by Beattie ... II 
Theodore Hook's " Whittington 

and his Cat " 96 
,, ,, "Mrs.Muggin's 
visit to the 

Queen " ... 98 
,, ,, "Hunting the 

Hare" ... 98 

The Queen's marriage ... 323 

The Wish 317 

Thistlewood, Execution of ... 92 

Thompson, John, Life of ... 28 

Thornton, Abraham ... ... 358 

Thurston, Mr ... ... II 

Thurtell murdering Mr. Weare 142 
„ Life, Trial, and Con- 
fession of ..'. ... 144 
„ Execution of-.. ... 149 

Tom and Jeny in 

Tragedy Bill of the Dials ... 369 

Trial by Battle 360 

Treadmill at Brixton, First ... 131 

„ Song on the ... 139 



Vestris, Madame 
Victoria, Princess of .. 
Victoria ! Royal Maid 
Vint, John, bookseller 


• • 250 

•• 303 
.. 312 

•• 4 

Waiting for Death 


Walbourn, Mr. , as Dusty Bob 
Walden, Mr. and Mrs... 
Walker, printer, Durham 
Walker, Mr., Paternoster Row 

Waterloo, Battle of 

Waters, Billy 

Weare, Mr., murder of 

„ ,, Drama on 
Westminster Election, 1820 ... 
Whitbread, Mr. 



White House, The, Soho 

Square 3S0 

Who stole the Mutton? ... 206 

Wigton Reprobates 264 

Wilk's Newspaper Extracts ... 21 

Willie Creech's in Auld Reekie 23 

William IV. the British Sailor 212 

,, and his Ministers 

for ever ... 247 

, , Attack on, at Ascot 

Heath 249 

,, Death of. 303 

William Palmer, comedian ... 23 

Willoughby family, Alnwick 30 

Wood, Sir Matthew ... ... 99 

Yorkshire Stingo, The ... 195 

Brighton : A. G. Lbe, Printer, 45, Market Street. 


^ 2 South Hall 642-2253 








JUN12 1981 

AUG 14 1981 

!^9-X 1^^' 

WH 1985 

m 1 q iqq^ 













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