Chapter V: Epilogue (1)

Now having conducted his well-meant effusion
Thus far on its way to a happy conclusion,
Your Bellman, tho' not quite so fresh as at starting,
Would still have a word with his patrons at parting,
Just by way of a cordial and kindly farewell,
For his heart, altho' softer, is sound as his bell,
And he cannot say more for himself or his strains,
Than, whatever his success, he has not spared pains;
And that blest in their kindness, and countenance steady,
His song and his services always are ready;
So he bids them adieu till next season appears--
May their wealth and their virtues increase with their years;
May they always have more than they ever can spend,
With the soul to help on a less fortunate friend;
And their Bellman continue to cudgel his brain,
For their yearly amusement, again and again.

+-----------------------------------------------------+
|_Cheap and Expeditious Printing by Steam Machinery, |
|executed by_ C. REYNELL, 16, _Little Pulteney Street,|
|Golden Square._--First printed in 1735. |
+-----------------------------------------------------+

There is a very rare sheet of woodcuts in the Print-room of the British Museum, containing twelve cries, with figures of the "Criers" and the cries themselves beneath. The cuts are singularly characteristic, and may be assigned with safety, on the authority of Mr. John Thomas Smith, the late keeper of the prints and drawings, as of the same date as Ben Jonson's "fish-wives," "costard-mongers," and "orange women."

No. 1 on the sheet, is the "Watch;" he has no name, but carries a staff and a lanthorn, is well secured in a good frieze gabardine, leathern-girdle, and wears a serviceable hat to guard against the weather. The worthy here depicted has a most venerable face and beard, showing how ancient was the habit of parish officers to select the poor and feeble for the office of watchman, in order to keep them out of the poor-house. The "cry" of the "watch" is as follows:--

"A light here, maids, hang out your light,
And see your horns be clear and bright,
That so your candle clear may shine,
Continuing from six till nine;
That honest men that walk along,
May see to pass safe without wrong."

No. 2 is the "Bellman"--Dekker's "Bellman of London and Dog." (as at page 49.) He carries a halberd lanthorn, and bell, and his "cry" is curious:--

"Maids in your smocks, look to your locks,
Your fire and candle-light;
For well 'tis known much mischief's done
By both in dead of night;
Your locks and fire do not neglect,
And so you may good rest expect."

No. 3 is the "Orange Woman," a sort of full-grown Nell Gwynne, if we can only fancy _Nelly_, the favourite mistress of King Charles the Second, grown up in her humble occupation. She carries a basket of oranges and lemons under her arm, and seeks to sell them by the following "cry":--

"Fine Sevil oranges, fine lemmons, fine;
Round, sound, and tender, inside and rine,
One pin's prick their vertue show:
They've liquor by their weight, you may know."

No. 4 is the "Hair-line Man," with a bundle of lines under his arm, and a line in his hand. Clothes-pegs was, perhaps, a separate "cry." Here is his:--

"Buy a hair-line, or a line for Jacke,
If you any hair or hemp-cord lack,
Mistris, here's good as you need use;
Bid fair for handsel, I'll not refuse."

No. 5 is the "Radish and Lettuce Woman."--Your fine "goss" lettuce is a modern cry:--

"White raddish, white young lettis,
White young lettis white;
You hear me cry, come mistris, buy,
To make my burden light."

No. 6 is the man who sells "Marking Stones," now, unless we except slate-pencils, completely out of use:--

"Buy marking-stones, marking-stones buy,
Much profit in their use doth lie:
I've marking-stones of colour red,
Passing good, or else black lead."

No. 7 is the "Sausage Woman," holding a pound of sausages in her hand:--

"Who buys my sausages, sausages fine?
I ha' fine sausages of the best;
As good they are as ere was eat;
If they be finely drest.
Come, mistris, buy this daintie pound,
About a capon roast them round."

No. 8 is a man with "Toasting-forks and Spice-graters":--

"Buy a fine toasting-fork for toast,
Or fine spice-grater--tools for an hoast;
If these in winter be lacking, I say,
Your guests will pack, your trade decay."

No. 9 is the "Broom Man," and here we have a "cry" different from the one we have already given. He carries a pair of old boots in his hand:--

"Come buy some brooms, come buy of me:
Birch, Heath, and green,--none better be;
The staves are straight, and all bound sure;
Come, maids, my brooms will still endure.
Old boots or shoes I'll take for brooms,
Come buy to make clean all your rooms!"

No. 10 is a woman with a box of "Wash balls":--

"Buy fine washing-balls, buy a ball,
Cheaper and dearer, greater and small;
For scouring none do them excel,
Their odour scenteth passing well;
Come buy rare balls, and trial make,
Spots out of clothes they quickly take."

No. 11 sells Ink and Pens.--He carries an ink-bottle hung by a stick behind him, and has a bunch of pens in his hand:--

"Buy pens, pens, pens of the best,
Excellent pens and seconds the least;
Come buy good ink as black as jet,
A varnish like gloss on writing 'twill set."

The twelfth and last is a woman with a basket of Venice Glasses, such as a modern collector would give a great deal to get hold of:--

"Come glasses, glasses, fine glasses buy;
Fine glasses o' the best I call and cry.
Fine Venice-glasses,--no chrystal more clear,
Of all forms and fashions buy glasses here,
Black pots for good ale I also do cry;
Come therefore quickly before I pass by."

In the same collection, is a series of three plates, "Part of the Cries in London," evidently belonging to the same set, though only one has got a title. Each plate contains thirty-six criers, with the addition of a principal "Crier" in the centre. These were evidently executed abroad, as late, perhaps, as the reign of Charles II. No. 1 (with the title page) is ornamented in the centre with the "Rat-Catcher," carrying an emblazoned banner of rats, and attended by a boy. The leather investment of the rat-catcher of the present day is a pleasant memorial of the banner of the past. Beneath the rat-catcher, the following lines occur:--

"Hee that wil have neither
Ratt nor Mowssee
Lett him pluck of the tillies
And set fire of his hows."

Proving, evidently that the rat-catcher courted more to his banner than his poetry. Then follow the thirty-six cries, some of which, it will be seen, are extremely curious. The names are given beneath the cuts, but without any verse or peculiarity of cry.

Cooper
Ende of Golde
Olde Dublets
Blackinge man
Tinker
Pippins
Bui a Matte
Cooles
Chimnie swepes
Bui Brumes
Camphires
Cherry ripe
Alminake
Coonie skine
Mussels
Cabeches
Kitchen stuff
Glasses
Cockels
Hartti chaks
Mackrill
Oranges, Lemens
Lettice
Place
Olde Iron
Aqua vitae
Pens and Ink
Olde Bellows
Herrings
Buy any Milke
Piepin Pys
Osters
Shades
Turneps
Rosmarie Baie
Onions.

"Haie ye any work for John Cooper?" is the title of one of the Martin Marprelate pamphlets. "Haie ye ani gold ends to sell?" is mentioned as a "cry," in "Pappe with a Hatchet" (_cir._ 1589). "Camphires," means Samphires. The "Alminake" man has completely gone, and "Old Dublets" has degenerated into "Ogh Clo," a "cry" which teased Coleridge for a time, and occasioned a ludicrous incident, which we had reserved for a place somewhat later in our history, had not "Old Dublets" brought it, not inopportunely, to mind. "The other day," said Coleridge, "I was what you would call _floored_ by a Jew. He passed me several times crying out for old clothes, in the most nasal and extraordinary tone I ever heard. At last I was so provoked, that I said to him, 'Pray, why can't you say 'old clothes' in a plain way, as I do?' The Jew stopped, and looking very gravely at me, said in a clear and even accent, 'Sir, I can say 'old clothes' as well as you can; but if you had to say so ten times a minute, for an hour together, you would say _Ogh Clo_ as I do now;' and so he marched off." Coleridge was so confounded with the justice of the retort that he followed and gave him a shilling--the only one he had.

The principal figure on the second plate is the "Bellman," with dog, bell, halberd, and lanthorns. His "cry" is curious, though we have had it almost in the same form before, at page 56:--

"Mayds in your Smocks, Looke
Wel to your lock--your fire
And your light, and God
Give you good night. At
One a Clock."

The cries around him deserve transcription:--

Buy any Shrimps
Buy some Figs
Buy a Tosting Iron
Lantorne candellyht
Buy any Maydes
The Water bearer
Buy a whyt Pot
Bread and Meate
Buy a Candelsticke
Buy any Prunes
Buy a Washing ball
Good Sasages
Buy a Purs
Buy a dish a Flounders
Buy a Footestoole
Buy a fine Bowpot
Buy a pair a Shoes
Buy any Garters
Featherbeds to dryue
Buy any Bottens
Buy any Whiting maps
Buy any Tape
Worcestershyr Salt
Ripe Damsons
Buy any Marking Stones
The Bear bayting
Buy any blew Starch
Buy any Points
New Hadog
Yards and Ells
Buy a fyne Brush
Hote Mutton Poys
New Sprats new
New Cod new
Buy any Reasons
P. and Glasses to mend

On the third plate, the principal figure is the "Crier," with his staff and keys:--

"O yis, any man or woman that
Can tell any tydings of a little
Mayden Childe of the age of 24
Yeares. Bring worde to the cryer,
And you shal be pleased for
Your labor
And God's blessinge."

The figures surrounding the Common Crier are in the same style of art, and their cries characteristic of bygone times:--

Buy any Wheat
Buy al my Smelts
Quick Periwinckels
Rype Chesnuts
Payres fyn
White Redish whyt
Buy any Whyting
Buy any Bone lays
I ha' rype Straberies
Buy a Case for a Hat
Birds and Hens
Hote Podding Pyes
Buy a Hair Lyne
Buy any Pompeons
Whyt Scalions
Rype Walnuts
Fyn Potatos fyn
Hote Eele Pyes
Fresh Cheese and Creame
Buy any Garlick
Buy a longe Brush
Whyt Carots whyt
Fyne Pomgranats
Buy any Russes
Hats or Caps to dress
Wood to cleave
Pins of the maker
Any sciruy Grass
Any Cornes to pick
Buy any Parsnips
Hot Codlinges hot
Buy all my Soales
Good Marroquin
Buy any Cocumber
New Thornebacke
Fyne Oate Cakes.

The only crier in the series who has a horse and cart to attend him is the Worcestershire salt-man. Salt is still sold from carts in poor and crowded neighbourhoods.

We have been somewhat surprised in not finding a single Thames waterman among the criers of London; but the series was, perhaps, confined to the streets of London, and the watermen were thought to belong altogether to the stairs leading to their silent highway. Three of their cries have given titles to three good old English comedies, "Northward, ho!" "Eastward, ho!" and "Westward, ho!" But our series of cries is still extremely incomplete. Every thing in early times was carried and cried, and we have seen two rare prints of old London Cries not to be found in the lists already enumerated. One is called "_Clove Water, Stomock Water_," and the other "_Buy an new Booke_." Others may still exist. In the Duke of Devonshire's collection of drawings, by Inigo Jones, are several cries, drawn in pen-and-ink, for the masques at court in the reigns of James I. and Charles I.

In Thomas Heywood's, "_The Rape of Lucrece_, a True Roman Tragedy, acted by Her Majestie's Servants at the _Red-Bull_, 1609," is the following long list of LONDON CRIES, but called for the sake of the dramatic action of the scene, "_Cries of Rome_," which was the common practice with the old dramatists, Rome being the canting name of London. Robert Greene, in his "_Perimedes the Blacksmith_, 1588," when he wished to criticise the London _Theatre_ at Shoreditch, talks of the _Theatre in Rome_; also in his "_Never too Late_, 1590," when he talks of the London actors, he pretends only to speak of Roscius and the actors of _Rome_. In the pedlar's French of the day Rome-vyle--or ville--was London, and Rome-mort the Queen [Elizabeth]. There is some humour in the classification, and if the cries were well imitated by the singer, the ballad--or as it would then be called "_jig_"--is likely to have been extremely popular in its day.

THE CRIES OF ROME [_i.e._ London.]

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down,
Round and sound all of a colour,
Buy a very fine marking stone, marking stone,
Round and sound all of a colour;
Buy a very fine marking stone, marking stone.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Bread and--meat--bread--and meat
For the--ten--der--mercy of God to the
poor pris--ners of _Newgate_, four-
score and ten--poor--prisoners.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Salt--salt--white Wor--stershire Salt,

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Buy a very fine Mouse--trap, or a tormentor for your Fleas.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Kitchen-stuff, maids.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

I have white Radish, white hard Lettuce, white young Onions.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

I have Rock--Samphire Rock--Samphire,

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Buy a Mat, a Mil--Mat,
Mat or a Hassock for your pew,
A stopple for your close-stool,
Or a Pesock to thrust your feet in.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Whiting maids, Whiting.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Hot fine Oat-Cakes, hot.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Small--Coals here.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Will you buy any Milk to day.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Lanthorn and Candle light here, Maid, a light here.

Thus go the cries in _Rome's_ fair town,
First they go up street, and then they go down.

Here lies a company of very poor
Women, in the dark dungeon,
Hungary, cold, and comfortless, night and day;
Pity the poor women in the dark dungeon.

Thus go the cries where they do house them,
First they come to the grate, and then they go lowse them.

From "Deuteromelia: or, the Second Part of Pleasant Roundelayes; K. H. Mirth, or Freeman's Songs, and such delightful Catches. London, printed for Thomas Adams, dwelling in Paul's Church-yard, at the sign of the White Lion, 1609."

Who liveth so merry in all this land
As doth the poor widdow that selleth the sand?
And ever shee singeth as I can guesse,
Will you buy any sand, any sand, mistress?

The broom-man maketh his living most sweet,
With carrying of brooms from street to street;
Who would desire a pleasanter thing,
Then all the day long to doe nothing but sing.

The chimney-sweeper all the long day,
He singeth and sweepeth the soote away;
Yet when he comes home altho' he be weary,
With his sweet wife he maketh full merry.

* * * * *

Who liveth so merry and maketh such sport
As those that be of the poorest sort?
The poorest sort wheresoever they be,
They gather together by one, two, three.

And every man will spend his penny
What makes such a shot among a great many?

Thomas Morely, a musical composer, set music of four, six, eight and ten parts, to the cries in his time, among them are some used by the milliners' girls in the New Exchange, which was on the south side of the Strand, opposite the now Adelphi Theatre, it was built in the reign of James I., and pulled down towards the end of the last century; among others are "_Italian falling Bands_," "_French Garters_," "_Robatos_," a kind of ruff then fashionable, "_Nun's Thread_," _&c._

The effeminacy and coxcombry of a man's ruff and band are well ridiculed by many of our dramatic writers. There is a small tract bearing the following title--"A Merrie Dialogue between Band, Cuffe and Ruffe. Done by an excellent Wit, and lately acted in a Shew in the Famous Universitie of Cambridge. London, printed by W. Stansby for Miles Partrich, and are to be sold at his shop neere Saint Dunstone's Church-yard in Fleet Street, 1615." This _brochure_ is a _bonne-bouche_ of the period, written in dramatic dialogue form, and full of puns as any modern comedy or farcical sketch from the pen of the greatest word-twister of the day--Henry J. Byron (who, on _Cyril's Success_, _Married in Haste_, _Our Boys_, and _The Girls_,)--and is of considerable value as an illustration of the history of the costume of the period. The band, as an article of ornament for the neck, was the common wear of gentlemen, though now exclusively retained by the clergy and lawyers; the cuff, as a fold at the end of a sleeve, or the part of the sleeve turned back from the hand, was made highly fantastical by means of "cut work;" the ruff, as a female neck ornament, made of plaited lawn, or other material, is well-known, but it was formerly worn by both sexes.

In a Roxburghe Ballad entitled "The Batchelor's Feast," &c., we have:--

"The taylor must be pay'd for making of her gowne,
The shoomakers for fine shoes: or else thy wife will frowne;
For _bands_, fine _ruffes_, and _cuffes_, thou must dispence as free:
O 'tis a gallant thing to live at liberty," &c.

In another, "The Lamentations of a New Married Man, briefly declaring the sorrow and grief that comes by marrying a young wanton wife":--

"Against that she is churched, a new Gowne she must have,
A daintie fine _Rebato_ about her neck to brave;"

In "_Loyal Subject_," by Beaumont and Fletcher, act iii., sc. 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.

Orlando Gibbons,--1583-1625--set music in madrigals to several common cries of the day. In a play called "_Tarquin and Lucrece_," some of the music of the following occur,--"_Rock Samphire_," "_A Marking Stone_," "_Bread and Meat for the poor Prisoners_," "_Hassock for your pew_," "_Lanthorne and Candlelight_," _&c._

In the Bridgewater library (in the possession of the Earl of Ellesmere) is a series of engravings on copper thirty-two in number, without date or engraver's name; but called, in the handwriting of the second Earl of Bridgewater, "The Manner of Crying Things in London." They are, it is said, by a foreign artist, and probably proof impressions, for on the margin of one of the engravings is a small part of another, as if it had been taken off for a trial of the plate. Curious and characteristic they certainly are, and of a date anterior to 1686; in which year the second Earl of Bridgewater died. The very titles kindle old recollections as you read them over:--

1. Lanthorne and a whole candell light: hang out your lights heare!

2. I have fresh cheese and creame.

3. Buy a brush or a table book.

4. Fine oranges, fine lemons.

5. Ells or yeards: buy yeard or ells.

6. I have ripe straw-buryes, ripe straw-buryes.

7. I have screenes, if you desier to keepe y{r} butey from y{e} fire.

8. Codlinges hot, hot codlinges.

9. Buy a steele or a tinder box.

10. Quicke peravinkells, quicke, quicke.

11. Worke for a cooper; worke for a cooper.

12. Bandestringes, or handkercher buttons.

13. A tanker bearer.

14. Macarell new: maca-rell.

15. Buy a hone, or a whetstone, or a marking stone.

16. White unions, white St. Thomas unions.

17. Mate for a bed, buy a doore mate.

18. Radishes or lettis, two bunches a penny.

19. Have you any work for a tinker?

20. Buy my hartichokes, mistris.

21. Maribones, maides, maribones.

22. I ha' ripe cowcumber, ripe cowcumber.

23. Chimney sweepe.

24. New flounders new.

25. Some broken breade and meate for y{e} poore prisoners; for the
Lord's sake pittey the poore.

26. Buy my dish of great smelts.

27. Have you any chaires to mend?

28. Buy a cocke, or a gelding.

29. Old showes or bootes; will you buy some broome?

30. Mussels, lilly white mussels.

31. Small cole a penny a peake.

32. What kitchen stuff have you, maides?

The figures, male and female, in the engravings, are all three-quarter lengths, furnished with the implements of their various trades, or with the articles in which they deal. The Watchman (one of the best) is a fine old fellow, with a broad brim to his hat, a reverential beard, a halberd in one hand, and a lanthorn in the other (after the manner of the one we have given at page 46). But perhaps the most curious engraving in the set is the "cry" called "Some broken breade and meate for y{e} poore prisoners: for the Lord's sake pittey the poore." This represents a poor prisoner with a sealed box in his hand, and a basket at his back--the box for alms in the shape of money, and the basket for broken bread and meat. There is also preserved a small handbill printed in 1664, and entitled, "The Humble Petition of the Poor Distressed Prisoners in Ludgate, being above an hundred and fourscore poor persons in number, against the time of the Birth of our Blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." "We most humbly beseech you," says the handbill "(even for God's cause), to relieve us with your charitable benevolence, and to put into this Bearers Boxe, the same being sealed with the house seale as it is figured on this Petition."

"Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door."]

To, "O, rare Ben Jonson!" we are indebted for the most perfect picture of Smithfield at "Barthol'me-tide," which he gives us, together with the popular cries in vogue at the time, in his comedy of "_Bartholomew Fair_," produced at the Hope Theatre, on the Bankside, 1614, and acted, as Jonson tells us, by the lady Elizabeth's servants.

The second act opens with "_The Fair. A number of Booths, Stalls, &c., set out_." The characters presented are "Lanthorn Leatherhead," _a hobby-horse seller_. "Bartholomew Cokes," _an esquire of Harrow_. "Nightingale," _a ballad-singer, a costard-monger, mousetrap-man, corn cutter_. "Joan Trash," _a gingerbread woman_. "Leatherhead" calls--"What do you lack? what is't you buy? what do you lack? rattles, drums, halberts, horses, babies o' the best? fiddles o' the finest." "Joan Trash" cries, "Buy my gingerbread, gilt gingerbread!" the costard-monger, bawls out, "Buy any pears, pears, fine, very fine pears!" "Nightingale," the ballad man sings--

"Hey, now the Fair's a filling!
O, for a tune to startle
The birds o' the booths here billing
Yearly with old saint _Bartle_!
The drunkards they are wading,
The punks and chapmen trading:
Who'd see the _Fair_ without his lading?
Buy my ballads! new ballads!"

"What do you lack?" continues Leatherhead, "What do you lack, gentlemen? my pretty mistress, buy a fine hobby-horse for your young master; cost you but a token a week for his provender." The corn cutter cries, "Have you any corns in your feet or toes?" The tinder-box man calls, "Buy a mouse-trap, a mouse-trap, or a tormentor for a flea!" Trash cries, "Buy some gingerbread!" Nightingale bawls, "Ballads, ballads, fine new ballads!" Leatherhead repeats, "What do you lack, gentlemen, what is't you lack? a fine horse? a lion? a bull? a bear? a dog? or a cat? an excellent fine Bartholomew bird? or an instrument? what is't you lack, what do you buy, mistress? a fine hobby-horse, to make your son a tilter? a drum, to make him a soldier? a fiddle, to make him a reveller? what is't you lack? little dogs for your daughters? or babies, male and female? fine purses, pouches, pincases, pipes; what is't you lack? a pair o' smiths to wake you i' the morning? or a fine whistling bird?" A character named "Bartholomew Cokes," a silly "Esquire of Harrow," stops at Leatherhead's stall to purchase.--"Those six horses, friend, I'll have, and the three Jew's trumps; and half a dozen o' birds; and that drum; and your smiths--I like that devise o' your smiths, and four halberts; and let me see, that fine painted great lady, and her three women of state, I'll have. A set of those violins I would buy too, for a delicate young noise[4] I have i' the country, that are every one a size less than another, just like your fiddles." Joan Trash invites the Esquire to buy her gingerbread, and he turns to her basket, whereupon Leatherhead says, "Is this well, Goody Joan, to interrupt my market in the midst, and call away my customers? Can you answer this at the _Pie-poudres_?"[5] whereto Joan Trash replies, "Why, if his master-ship have a mind to buy, I hope my ware lies as open as anothers; I may show my ware as well as you yours." Nightingale begins to sing:--

"My masters and friends, and good people draw near."

Squire Cokes hears this, and says, "Ballads! hark, hark! pray thee, fellow, stay a little! what ballads hast thou? let me see, let me see myself--How dost thou call it? _A Caveat against Cut-purses!_--a good jest i' faith; I would fain see that demon, your cut-purse, you talk of;" He then shows his purse boastingly, and enquires "Ballad-man, do any cut-purses haunt hereabout? pray thee raise me one or two: begin and show me one." Nightingale answers, "Sir, this is a spell against 'em, spick and span new: and 'tis made as 'twere in mine own person, and I sing it in mine own defence. But 'twill cost a penny alone if you buy it." The Squire replies: "No matter for the price; thou dost not know me, I see, I am an old _Bartholomew_." The ballad has "pictures," and Nightingale tells him, "It was intended, sir, as if a purse should chance to be cut in my presence, now, I may be blameless though; as by the sequel will more plainly appear." He adds, "It is, to the tune of _Paggington's Pound_, sir." and he finally sings the ballad, the first and last stanzas of which follow:--

"My masters, and friends, and good people draw near,
And look to your purses, for that I do say;
And though little money, in them you do bear,
It cost more to get, than to lose in a day,
You oft' have been told,
Both the young and the old,
And bidden beware of the cut-purse so bold;
Then if you take heed not, free me from the curse,
Who both give you warning, for, and the cut-purse.
Youth, youth, thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse,
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse.

* * * * *

"But O, you vile nation of cut-purses all,
Relent, and repent, and amend, and be sound,
And know that you ought not by honest men's fall,
Advance your own fortunes to die above ground.
And though you go gay
In silks as you may,
It is not the highway to heaven (as they say.)
Repent then, repent you, for better, for worse;
And kiss not the gallows for cutting a purse.
Youth, youth, thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse,
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse."

While Nightingale sings this ballad, a fellow tickles Coke's ear with a straw, to make him withdraw his hand from his pocket, and privately robs him of his purse, which, at the end of the song, he secretly conveys to the ballad-singer; who notwithstanding his "Caveat against cut-purses," is their principal confederate, and in that quality, becomes the unsuspected depository of the plunder.

In the years 1600-18, there was published a musical work, entitled "_Pammelia_--MVSICKES MISCELLANIE; _Or_, Mixed Varietie of pleasant ROVNDELAYS and delightful CATCHES. London, Printed by Thomas Snodhom, for Matthew Lownes and Iohn Browne." It was compiled by some eminent musicians, who had a practice of setting the cries of London to music, retaining only the very musical notes of them, here we find, "What Kitchen-Stuffe haue you maids," and there is a Round in six parts to the cry of "New Oysters:"--

"New Oysters, new Oysters, new Oysters new,
New Oysters, new Wall-fleet Oysters--
At a groat a pecke--each Oyster worth twopence.
Fetch vs bread and wine, that we may eate,
Let vs lose no time with such good meate--
A Banquet for a Prince--New Oysters.
New--_vt supra_--Oysters."

From "Meligmata: Musical Phantasies, fitting the Court, City, and Country Manners, to three, four and five Voices"--

"To all delightful, except to the spiteful;
To none offensive, except to the pensive."

"London, printed by William Stansby, for Thos. Adams, 1611," we take as follows:--

"CITTIE ROUNDS.

"Broomes for old shoes! pouch-rings, bootes and buskings!
Will yee buy any new broome?
New oysters! new oysters! new new cockles!
Cockels nye! fresh herrings! will yee buy any straw?
Hay yee any kitchen stuffe, maides?
Pippins fine, cherrie ripe, ripe, ripe!
Cherrie ripe, &c.
Hay any wood to cleaue?
Give care to the clocke!
Beware your locke!
Your fire and your light!
And God giue you good night!
One o' clocke!"

Some of the "Common Cryes i' th' City," as Oysters, Codlings, Kitchen-stuff, Matches for your Tinder-box, &c., are enumerated in Richard Brome's--The "Court Beggar, A Comedie acted at the _Cock-pit_, by His Majesties Servants, _Anno_ 1632."

"The London Chanticleers, a witty Comedy full of Various and Delightful 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 personae_ consists of:--

HEATH.--_A broom-man._ "Brooms, maids, broom! Come, buy my brooms,
maids; 'Tis a new broom, and will sweep clean. Come, buy my broom,
maids!"

BRISTLE.--_A brush-man._ "Come, buy a save-all. Buy a comb-brush, or a
pot-brush; buy a flint, or a steel, or a tinder-box."

DITTY.--_A ballad-man._ "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, newly 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, Room for Cuckolds_, _The Ballad of the
London 'Prentice_, _Guy of Warwick_, _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 Merry Tales_, _Scoggin's Jests; 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
Westphalia 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?"

JENNITING.--_An Apple wench._ "Come buy my pearmains, 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."

THE SORROWFUL LAMENTATIONS of the PEDLARS AND PETTY CHAPMEN,
For the Hardness of the Times and the Decay of Trade.
_To the Tune of_ "My Life and my Death."

"The times are grown hard, more harder than stone,
And therefore the Pedlars may well make their moan,
Lament and complain that trading is dead,
That all the sweet golden days now are fled.
Then maidens and men, come see what you lack,
And buy the fine toys that I have in my pack!

"Come hither and view, here's choice and here's store,
Here's all things to please ye, what would you have more?
Here's points for the men, and pins for the maid,
Then open your purses and be not afraid.
Come, maidens, &c.

"Let none at a tester repent or repine:
Come bring me your money, and I'll make you fine;
Young Billy shall look as spruce as the day,
And pretty sweet Betty more finer than May.
Then, maidens, &c.

"To buy a new license your money I crave;
'Tis that which I want, and 'tis that which you have:
Exchange then a groat for some pretty toy,
Come, buy this fine whistle for your little boy.
Come, maidens, &c.

"Here's garters for hose, and cotton for shoes.
And there's a gilt bodkin, which none would refuse:
This bodkin let John give to sweet Mistriss Jane,
And then of unkindness he shall not complain.
Come, maidens, &c.

"Come buy this fine coife, this dressing, or hood,
And let not your money come like drops of blood:
The Pedlar may well of his fortune complain
If he brings all his ware to the market in vaine.
Then, maidens, &c.

"Here's band strings for men, and there you have lace,
Bone-lace to adorn the fair virgin's sweet face:
Whatever you like, if you will but pay,
As soon as you please you may take it away.
Then, maidens, &c.

"The world is so hard that we find little trade,
Although we have all things to please every maid:
Come, pretty fair maids, then make no delay,
But give me your hansel, and pack me away.
Come, maidens, &c.

"Here's all things that's fine, and all things that's rare,
All modish and neat, all new London ware:
Variety here you plainly may see,
Then give me your money, and we will agree.
Come, maidens, &c.

"We travel all day through dirt and through mire,
To fetch you fine laces and what you desire;
No pains do we spare to bring you choice ware,
As gloves and perfumes, and sweet powder for hair.
Then, maidens, &c.

"We have choice of songs, and merry books, too,
All pleasant and witty, delightful and new,
Which every young swain may whistle at plough,
And every fair milk-maid may sing at her cow.
Then, maidens, &c.

"Since trading's so dead we must needs complain,
And, therefore, pray let us have some little gain:
If you will be free, we will you supply
With what you do want; therefore, pray come and buy.
The world is so hard, that although we take pains,
When we look in our purses we find little gains.

"Printed for J. BACK, at the Black-boy, on London Bridge."

In "Merry Drollery Complete, or, a Collection of Jovial Poems, Merry Songs, Witty Drolleries, Intermixed with Pleasant Catches, London, Printed for _William Miller_, at the _Gilded Acorn_, in _St. Paul's_ Church-yard, 1661," the _Catch_ which follows will be found. The Rev. J. Woodfall Ebsworth, M.A., Cantab, who has carefully edited and reprinted [1875] "Both Parts"; says in his _Appendix of Notes_:--"Hare-skin and Rabbit-skin collectors, have always been queer characters. This catch is by JOHN FLETCHER, in his 'Beggar's Bush,' act iii., sc. 1, where it is sung by 'Clause' his boy. Clause, the vagabond beggar, was a popular favourite, reproduced in 'Drolls.' We see him represented in the frontispiece of _The Wits_, by Kirkman and Cox."

A CATCH.

"Bring forth your Cunny skins, fair maids, to me,
And hold them fair that I may see
Gray, black, and blue; for your smaller skins--
I'll give you Glasses, Laces, Pins:
And for your whole Cunny
I'll give ready money.

"Come, gentle _Jone_, do thou begin
With thy black, black, black Cunny skin,
And _Mary_ then, and _Kate_ will follow
With their silver'd hair'd skins, and their yellow;
Your white Cunny skin I will not lay by,
Though it be fat, it is not fair to the Eye.

"Your gray it is warm, but for my money
Give me the bonny, bonny black Coney;
Come away, fair maids, your skins will decay,
Come take money, maids, put your ware away;
I have fine Bracelets, Rings,
And I have silver Pins
Coney skins, Coney skins,
Maids, have you any Coney skins."

In the same Collection there is a vigorous song exposing the cheats of mendicants. The hero of which declares:--"_I am a Rogue, and a stout one_." And that among the many cheats, counterfeits, deceits and dodges he has to resort to, at times he may be seen:--

"In _Pauls_ Church-yard, by a pillar,
Sometimes you see me stand, Sir,
With a writ that shows what cares, what woes
I have passed by Sea and Land, Sir,
Then I do cry, &c.

"Come buy, come buy a Horn-book,
Who buys my Pins and Needles:
Such things do I in the City cry
Oftimes to 'scape the Beadles,
Then I do cry, &c."

For the counterpart of this Rogue and Vagabond, the reader is referred to Vol. I, No. 42-3 of the Roxburghe Ballads--(British Museum.) Where there is one entitled:--

THE CUNNING NORTHERN BEGGAR.

Who all the by-standers doth earnestly pray
To bestow a penny upon him to-day.
TO THE TUNE OF _Tom of Bedlam_.

I am a lusty beggar,
And live by others giving!
I scorn to work,
But by the highway lurk,
And beg to get my living:
I'll i' the wind and weather,
And wear all ragged garments;
Yet, though I'm bare,
I'm free from care,--
A fig for high preferments!

_Therefore I'll cry, &c._

* * * *

My flesh I can so temper
That it shall seem to fester,
And look all o'er
Like a raw sore,
Whereon I stick a plaister.
With blood I daub my face then,
To feign the falling sickness,
That in every place
They pity my case,
As if it came through weakness.

_Therefore I'll cry, &c._

* * * *

No tricks at all shall escape me,
But I will by my maunding,
Get some relief
To ease my grief
When by the highway standing:
'Tis better be a Beggar,
And ask of kind good fellows,
And honestly have
What we do crave,
Than steal and go to the gallows.

_Therefore I'll cry, "Good your worship, good sir,
Bestow one poor denier, sir,
Which, when I've got,
At the Pipe and Pot
I soon will it cashier, sir."_

FINIS.

Printed at London for F. Coules.

The following ballad was published in "Playford's Select Ayres," 1659, p. 95; with music by Dr. John Wilson, and Musical Companion, 1673. It is in the Percy Folio MS., iii., 308-11. Also in "Windsor Drollery," 2; and "Le Prince d'Amour," 1660, p. 177. It is attributed to Shakespeare, but with only manuscript evidence.

"THE SONG OF THE PEDLARS.

"From the fair Lavinian shore,
I your markets come to store.
Muse not though so far I dwell
And my wares come here to sell:
Such is the insatiate thirst after gold,
Then come to my pack
While I cry, what d'ye lack,
What d'ye buy? for here it is to be sold.

"Courteous Sir, I've wares for you,
Garters red and stockings blue,
Dainty gaudes for Sunday gear,
Beads and laces for your dear,
First let me have but a touch of your gold
Then come--Not a swain,
Half so neat,
On the plain
Shall we meet
So comely to behold.

"Madam, come, here you may find
Rings with posies to your mind,
Silken bands for true-love-knot,
And complexion I have got.
First let me have but a touch of your gold,
Then come--To your face,
I'll restore
Every grace
Though you're more
Than three score and ten years old.

"Gentles all, now fare you well,
I must trudge my wares to sell;
Lads so blythe and Dames so young,
Drop a guerdon for my song.
Just let me have but a touch of your gold,
I'll come with my pack
Again to cry,
What d'ye lack,
What d'ye buy?
For here it is to be sold."

Mr. John Payne Collier, in his "_A Book of Roxburghe Ballads_," London, 1847, reproduces a capital ditty; "ryhte merrie and very excellent in its way," relating to the popular pursuits and the customs of London and the Londoners in the early part of the seventeenth century. It is printed _verbatim_ from a broadside, signed W. Turner, and called:--

"The Common Cries of London Town,
Some go up street and some go down.

With Turner's Dish of Stuff, or a Gallymaufery

To the tune of _Wotton Towns End_.[6] Printed for F. C[oles,] T.
V[ere,] and W. G[ilbertson.] 1662."

The only known copy is dated 1662, but contains internal evidence, in the following stanza (which occurs in the opening of The Second Part,) that it was written in the reign of James I.

"That's the fat foole of the Curtin:
And the lean fool of the Bull:
Since _Shancke_ did leave to sing his rimes,
He is counted but a gull.

"The players on the Bankside,
The round Globe and the Swan,
Will teach you idle tricks of love,
But the Bull will play the man."

_Shancke._--John Shancke the comic actor here mentioned was celebrated for singing rhymes, and what were technically "jigs" on the stage. In this respect, as a low comedian he had been the legitimate successor of Tarlton, Kempe, Phillips, and Singer. He was on the stage from 1603 to 1635, when he died. Then, John Taylor the _Water Poet_, no mean authority, informs us that the Swan Theatre, on the Bankside, in the Liberty of Paris Gardens, had been abandoned by the players in 1613. The Curtain Theatre in Holywell street--or Halliwell street, as it was usually spelt at that time--Shoreditch Fields[7] had also fallen into disuse before the reign of Charles I. The Globe on the Bankside, and the [Red] Bull Theatre at the upper end of St. John's street, Clerkenwell were employed until after the restoration. The allusion to the Waterman carrying "bonny lasses over to the plays," is also a curious note of time. With these matters before us, we may safely conclude that "Turner's Dish of Stuff" is but a reprint of an earlier production. As we find it, so we lay it before our readers: thus:--

"THE COMMON CRIES OF LONDON TOWN:
SOME GO UP STREET, SOME GO DOWN.

With Turner's Dish of Stuff, or a Gallymaufery.
_To the tune_ of Wotton Towns End."

"My masters all, attend you,
if mirth you love to heare,
And I will tell you what they cry
in London all the yeare.
Ile please you if I can,
I will not be too long:
I pray you all attend awhile,
and listen to my song.

"The fish-wife first begins,
Anye muscles lilly white!
Herrings, sprats or plaice,
or cockles for delight.
Anye welflet oysters!
Then she doth change her note:
She had need to have her tongue be greas'd,
for the rattles in the throat.

"For why, they are but Kentish,
to tell you out of doubt.
Her measure is too little;
goe, beat the bottom out.
Half a peck for two pence?
I doubt it is a bodge.
Thus all the City over
the people they do dodge.

"The wench that cries the kitchin stuff,
I marvel what she ayle,
She sings her note so merry,
but she hath a draggle tayle:
An empty car came running,
and hit her on the bum;
Down she threw her greasie tub,
and away straight she did run.

"But she did give her blessing
to some, but not to all,
To bear a load to Tyburne,
and there to let it fall:
The miller and his golden thumb,
and his dirty neck,
If he grind but two bushels,
he must needs steal a peck.

"The weaver and the taylor,
cozens they be sure,
They cannot work but they must steal,
to keep their hands inure;
For it is a common proverb
thorowout the town,
The taylor he must cut three sleeves
to every woman's gown.

"Mark but the waterman
attending for his fare,
Of hot and cold, of wet and dry,
he alwaies takes his share:
He carrieth bonny lasses
over to the playes,
And here and there he gets a bit,
and that his stomach staies.

"There was a singing boy
who did not ride to Rumford;
When I go to my own school
I will take him in a comfort;
But what I leave behind
shall be no private gain;
But all is one when I am gone:
let him take it for his pain.

"Old shoes for new brooms!
the broom-man he doth sing,
For hats or caps or buskins,
or any old pouch ring.
Buy a mat, a bed-mat!
a hassock or a presse,
A cover for a close stool,
a bigger or a lesse.

"Ripe, cherry ripe!
the coster-monger cries;
Pippins fine or pears!
another after hies,
With basket on his head
his living to advance,
And in his purse a pair of dice
for to play at mumchance.

"Hot pippin pies!
to sell unto my friends,
Or pudding pies in pans,
well stuft with candle's ends.
Will you buy any milk?
I heard a wench that cries:
With a pale of fresh cheese and cream,
another after hies.

"Oh! the wench went neatly;
me thought it did me good,
To see her cherry cheeks
so dimpled ore with blood:
Her waistcoat washed white
as any lilly floure;
Would I had time to talk with her
the space of half an hour.

"Buy black! saith the blaking man,
the best that ere was seen;
Tis good for poore citizens
to make their shoes to shine.
Oh! tis a rare commodity,
it must not be forgot;
It will make them to glister galantly,
and quickly make them rot.

"The world is full of thread-bare poets
that live upon their pen,
But they will write too eloquent,
they are such witty men.
But the tinker with his budget,
the beggar with his wallet,
And Turners turned a gallant man
at making of a ballet."

THE SECOND PART.

_To the same Tune._

"That's the fat foole of the Curtin,
and the lean fool of the Bull:
Since Shancke did leave to sing his rimes,
he is counted but a gull.
The players on the Bankside,
the round Globe and the Swan,
Will teach you idle tricks of love,
but the Bull will play the man.

"But what do I stand tattling
of such idle toyes?
I had better go to Smith-Field
to play among the boyes:
But you cheating and deceiving lads,
with your base artillery,
I would wish you to shun Newgate,
and withall the pillory.

"And some there be in patcht gownes,
I know not what they be,
That pinch the country-man
with nimming of a fee;
For where they get a booty,
they'le make him pay so dear,
They'le entertain more in a day,
then he shall in a year.

"Which makes them trim up houses
made of brick and stone,
And poor men go a begging,
when house and land is gone.
Some there be with both hands
will swear they will not dally,
Till they have turn'd all upside down,
as many use to sally.

"You pedlers, give good measure,
when as your wares you sell:
Tho' your yard be short, your thumb will slip
your tricks I know full well.
And you that sell your wares by weight,
and live upon the trade,
Some beams be false, some waits too light;
such tricks there have been plaid.

"But small coals, or great coals!
I have them on my back:
The goose lies in the bottom;
you may hear the duck cry quack.
Thus Grim the black collier,
whose living is so loose,
As he doth walk the commons ore,
sometimes he steals a goose.

"Thou usurer with thy money bags
that livest so at ease,
By gaping after gold thou dost
thy mighty God displease;
And for thy greedy usury,
and thy great extortion,
Except thou dost repent thy sins,
Hell fire will be thy portion.

"For first I came to Houns-Ditch,
then round about I creep,
Where cruelty was crowned chief
and pity fast asleep:
Where usury gets profit,
and brokers bear the bell.
Oh, fie upon this deadly sin!
it sinks the soul to hell.

"The man that sweeps the chimneys
with the bush of thorns,
And on his neck a trusse of poles
tipped all with horns,
With care he is not cumbered,
he liveth not in dread?
For though he wear them on his pole,
some wear them on their head.

"The landlord with his racking rents
turns poor men out of dore;
Their children go a begging
where they have spent their store.
I hope none is offended
with that which is endited
If any be, let him go home
and take a pen and write it.

"Buy a trap, a mouse trap,
a torment for fleas!
The hangman works but half the day;
he lives too much at ease.
Come let us leave this boyes play
and idle prittle prat,
And let us go to nine holes,
to spurn-point, or to cat.

"Oh! you nimble fingered lads
that live upon your wits,
Take heed of Tyburn ague,
for they be dangerous fits;
For many a proper man,
for to supply his lack,
Doth leap a leap at Tyburn,
which makes his neck to crack.

"And to him that writ this song
I give this simple lot:
Let every one be ready
to give him half a pot.
And thus I do conclude,
wishing both health and peace
To those that are laid in their bed,
and cannot sleep for fleas.
W. TURNER"

The "tink, terry tink" of the Tinker's "Cry" is preserved in a Miscellany of the year 1667, called "_Catch that Catch Can; or, the Musical Champion_."

"The Tinker.

"Have you any work for a tinker, mistriss?
Old brass, old pots, or kettles?
I'll mend them all with a tink, terry tink,
And never hurt your mettles.
First let me have but a touch of your ale,
'Twill steel me against cold weather,
Or tinkers frees,
Or vintners lees,
Or tobacco chuse you whether.
But of your ale,
Your nappy ale,
I would I had a ferkin,
For I am old
And very cold
And never wear a jerkin."

The tinker's "Cry" forms the opening lines of "Clout the Cauldron," one of the best of our old Scottish songs:--

"'Hae ye ony pots or pans,
Or any broken chanlers,'
I am a tinker to my trade,
And newly come from Flanders."

But the song is so well known to all who take an interest in our northern minstrelsy, and is to be found, moreover, in every good collection of Scottish Songs, that it is enough to refer to it.

Honest John Bunyan was a travelling tinker originally. Reader! just for a moment fancy the inspired author--poet we may call him--of "_The Pilgrim's Progress_," crying the "cry" of his trade through the streets of Bedford, thus--"_Mistress, have you any work for the tinker? pots, pans, kettles I mend, old brass, lead or old copper I buy. Anything in my way to-day, maids?_" While at the same time, through his brain was floating visions of Vanity Fair, the Holy War, the Slough of Despond, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the Barren Fig Tree, the Water of Life, &c. beneath the long head of hair, shaggy and dirty, too, as a tinker's generally is.

This will be found in "_Windsor Drollery_," and, with music for three voices, by Thomas Holmes, in John Hilton's "_Catch that Catch Can_;" and also Walsh's "_Catch Club_." Part II., p. 25.

"Have you observ'd the wench in the street,
She's scarce any hose or shoes to her feet;
And when she cries, she sings,
'I have hot Codlings, hot Codlings.'

"Or have you ever seen or heard,
The mortal with his Lyon tauny beard!
He lives as merrily as heart can wish,
And still he cries, 'Buy a brush, buy a brush.'