Chapter VI: Preface

“It is scarcely necessary to observe this Drama is founded on the
“LIFE IN LONDON” of my friends PIERCE EGAN, and the inimitable
CRUICKSHANK. Aided by PIERCE’S clever illustrations to the matchless
series of plates to that work, I have in this piece, endeavoured to
put them into dramatic motion; running a connecting story through the
whole, making such modifications and amplifications, and furnishing
such reflections and results, as I deemed necessary. From the
popularity of the subject, the novelty and acknowledged truth of the
various scenes comprised in it, and the beauty of the music I
fortunately selected, this Piece 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, even in the United
States, enriched its coffers by performing it; and the smallest
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 many
publications and 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 furthest parts of the Kingdom to see it; and
five guineas have been offered for a single seat.--These facts are not
recapitulated here from any feeling of egotism--the success of this
Drama, was the temporary rage of the moment, from time-serving
circumstances, and was never regarded in any other light by its
Author; they are merely noticed as curious events in theatrical
history.--With respect to the cry of immorality, so loudly raised by
those inimical to the success and plain-speaking of this piece, it is
soon answered! To say nothing of the envy of rival Theatres feeling
its attraction most sensibly in their Saturday Treasuries, those
notorious pests the Watchmen; dexterously joined in the war-howl of
detraction raised against it, and by converting every trifling
street-broil into a “_Tom and Jerry row_,” endeavoured to revenge
themselves for the _exposè_ its scenes afforded of their villany and
extortion; but all in vain. In vain, too, it was the Actor’s old
rivals, the _Methodists_, took the alarm--in vain they distributed the
whole of the stock of the _Religious Tract Society_ at the doors of
the Theatre--in vain they denounced “_Tom and Jerry_” from the
pulpit--in vain the puritanical portion of the Press prated of its
immorality--in vain the prejudices of the stiff-backed part of the
Bench--the hypocritical host of Saints cried it down, and preached woe
and destruction to those who supported it.--They but increased the
number of its followers, and added to its popularity. Vainly, too, was
the Lord Chamberlain called upon to suppress it--His Grace came one
night to see it, and brought his Duchess the next. It was nearly the
same with the Chief Magistrate of Bow Street: his experience rendered
him perfectly sensible, that, long before the appearance of “_Tom and
Jerry_,” young men and country gentlemen would in moments of hilarity,
sometimes exceed in their potations, be provoked into quarrels by
designing Watchmen, and consigned, for purposes of extortion on the
following morning, to His Honour, the Night Constable; but according
to the Saints’ accounts, to believe their tales, it must be held as a
point of faith, that no one, previous to the appearance of “_Tom and
Jerry_,” ever got into a row!--Oh, no--drinking and all its train of
follies were unknown to youth, until inculcated into their minds by
the example of “_Tom and Jerry_!” How many an unsuspecting _Country
Cousin_ has been converted, in the public newspapers, through an hour
of harmless frolic, into a JERRY; while his equally unconscious Town
relation figured as a TOM, and any honest plodder they may have had
with them is transformed into a BOB LOGIC--his first appearance in
that character. The thing speaks for itself: the hue and cry of the
immorality and danger of this piece was raised merely for the purposes
of plunder, by Watchmen and others. So far from being immoral, if the
piece be fairly examined, it will be found to be as correct in its
tendency as any production ever brought on the stage. The obnoxious
scenes of life are only shown that they may be avoided: the danger of
mixing in them is strikingly exemplified; and every incident tends to
prove, that happiness is only to be found in the domestic circle.

“It has been said, that many of the scenes of this piece should not
have been exhibited, being scenes of dissipation, riot, and
impropriety--ridiculous!--Has not Shakespeare asserted that the proper
use of the drama is--“to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature, to
show virtue her own feature, and vice her own image, and the very age
and body of the time its form and pressure:” could any piece do this
more effectually than “_Tom and Jerry_?” take away the scenes
complained of, it ceases to show the form and pressure of the age and
time.

“I should not have published this piece had not its success produced
such a host of imitations and plagiarisms, that more to prevent myself
suffering from the demerits of others than to avail myself of any
merits of my own. I give it with all its imperfections on its head, to
the world; willing to pay _smart blunt_ for my own misdeeds, but not
_stand Sammy_ for those of others. To those venerable noodles who
complain that I and my prototype, PIERCE, have made this the age of
flash; I answer any age is better than _The age of cant_! I tell my
pious lecturers, in plain terms, I shall always feel pleasure in
reflecting that I have in this piece, _nosed_ every _move_ on the
_board_, in the _game_ of the _spell_; opened the _ogles_ of the
_green_ and the _yokel_, and the _muff_, and the _raw_; struck a light
on the _darky_ of their _knowledge boxes_, _flashed_ the _gab_ of the
_prig_, the _leg_, the _scamp_ and the _stringer_, in their
_listeners_, put them _fly_ and _awake_ to all they should be _up_ and
_down_ to, and enabled them, if their _lugs_ are at all _wing_ to the
_bits_ of _good truth_, _pattered_ to them in every scene of this
piece, _bank_ their _rag_, _chivey_ their _nurses_, _nash_ their
_leading strings_, and keep out of the way of the _cut-along-coaches_
as they travel the high _toby_ of existence; and having so done, can
lay my _mawley_ on my _core_, and conscienciously _chaunt_ my
conviction, in which my _reader_ will bear me out, “that I’ve cut all
the _buzmen_, and _done_ the _thing right_.”

W. T. M.

104, Drury Lane,
Dec. 15, 1825.

THE DUSTMAN.

Bring out your dust the dustman cries,
Whilst ringing of his bell:
If the wind blows, pray guard your eyes,
To keep them clear and well.

PIERCE EGAN ON MR. WALBOURN’S “DUSTY BOB.”

“It is the greatest possible praise to be praised by a man who is
himself deserving of praise.”

“Approbation from Sir Hubert Stanley is praise indeed.”

Mr. Walbourn’s theatrical fame was made by, and, strange to say, expired with the character of Dusty Bob. Pierce Egan, in his “Life of an Actor,”--which he dedicated to Edmund Kean--classes his performance of this part, as giving him a title in the niche of fame beside John Kemble, Mrs. Siddons, and all the great actors contained in his “Catalogues of Parts Acted”--which can never be forgotten by those who witnessed them. Here is the note, and will be found at page twelve of the work:--“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 on any stage. The first tragedian of the day,[35] 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[36] exclaimed, ‘Good heaven! is it possible? Do my eyes deceive me? Most certainly it is a real _dustman_ they have got upon 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.’ He left the body of the theatre in utter disgust--nor was it until introduced to Mr. Walbourn in person, behind the scenes, that he would believe it was an actor. _Further praise than this is superfluous._”

Mr. Walbourn as “Dusty Bob,” was drawn and engraved by George Cruikshank, and sold, with other character-portraits, at the Adelphi Theatre. During the long run of the piece, he exchanged one species of _hops_ for another, as he gave up his business as a private and stage dancing-master, and took the “Maidenhead” public-house at Battle Bridge. The house, previous to his taking it was doing only a small trade; but, when he became the landlord, and put out a spick-span new and a “not so dusty” sign of himself as “DUSTY BOB,” painted in oil by George Cruikshank, it drew together many of the “Dusty” fraternity--and their doxies. After that, “Dusty Bob,” together with “Black Sal,” became to be bye words, as, near to the house, was Smith’s dust-yard, at which hundreds were employed, male and female. But:--

“A heap of dust alone remains of thee;
’Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!”

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?[37]
’Twas there I studied pic--turesque,
Vhile I my bread vos yarning,
And there, inhailing the fresh _breeze_,
I sifted out my larnin’!
They calls me Adam Bell, ’tis clear,
(As Adam vos the furst man),
And by a co--in--side--ance queer,
Vy, I’m the fust of dustmen!--
A Literary Dustman!

The “Old Pub.” of sixty 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 execrable performance--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 Literary Dustman.

Besides the authors already mentioned. Tom Dibden, Farrell, and Douglas Jerrold, each produced dramas upon the popular theme; and during the seasons of 1821-2, “Life in London” was performed with great _éclat_, 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 or two 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.”

SADLER’S WELLS THEATRE.

Under the Direction of MR. EGERTON, of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, Sole Proprietor.

The Brilliant Success, and increasing Attraction of PIERCE EGAN’S “TOM and JERRY”: not exceeded by any performance ever yet produced; and the celebrated PONY RACES, exciting an interest equal to the RACE COURSE ITSELF: being nightly performed to crowded Audiences, amidst Roars of Laughter and Shouts of applause, will be repeated EVERY EVENING, at half-past six o’clock precisely:--

The new Pedestrian, Equestrian, and Operatic Extravaganza: in Three Acts--of Gaiety, Frisk, Lark, and Patter, called

TOM AND JERRY.

_Put into Shape, exclusively for this Theatre, by_ PIERCE EGAN.

Who trusts it will not be deemed unfair that he should take a LEAF or TWO _out of his own_ BOOK, several other persons having made free with the Work. The Piece now prepared for representation is not entitled to the appellation of TRAGEDY, COMEDY, _Opera_, PLAY, _Farce_, BALLET, or _Melodrama_, yet partaking of the Qualities _of all_, and possessing scenes HIGH and LOW in abundance, from the “_Sky Parlour_” to the “_Diamond Vault_.” OUT _and_ OUT, Rambles and Sprees, East and West, and Lots of Characters, UP and DOWN. A variety of _Swells_ but no DONS: CORINTHIANS and COSTARD-MONGERS of many _Hues and Colours_: FLATS and SHARPS without a _Note_--PINKS _and_ TULIPS, but no FLOWERS, yet always in the _Hot Houses_: and HELLS _without_ DEVILS, only having _Black Legs_: MUSLIN _and_ HOPSACKS, according as the _creatures_ wear them: the whole forming a “BIT OF GOOD TRUTH,” _en passant_, in a Review of LIFE IN LONDON, developed by a precious TRIO, in the Persons of a TOP-of-THE-TREE-HERO _Up_ and _Dressed_ in all _suits_: seconded by a _slap-bang_ countryman, that neither _hedge_ nor _ditch_ baulk his pursuits; and in unison with a _prime_ piece of LOGIC without PREMISES, yet always so much at HOME, that LOCKE and BACON were muffs to him: also representing the NOBLE, RESPECTABLE, MECHANICAL, and _Tag Rag_ and _Bob-tail part of Society_, which constitute the CORINTHIAN CAPITAL, and the _Base_ of the Pillar.

The Overture, with the New and Selected Music, by Mr. Nicholson. The Scenes from Drawings taken on the spot, by Mr. Greenwood, assisted by Mr. Milldenhall and others. The Sporting Subjects, by MR. GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, from designs by himself and Brother, MR. I. R. CRUIKSHANK. The Quadrilles and Country Dances, by Mr. Kirby. The Machinery, Platforms, and Race Course, by MR. COPPING. Dresses by MR. TOWNLEY and MRS. BALDING.

Corinthian Tom Mr. Elliott.
Jerry Hawthorn Mr. Keeley.
Bob Logic Mr. Vale.
Dusty Bob Mr. Walbourn.
African Sal Mr. Brady.
Little Jemmy Mr. Cooper.
Billy Waters Mr. Hartland.

To Start from the Winning Post on the Stage; Run three times Round the Course.

Separate Matches, and afterwards for the GRAND SWEEPSTAKES.

PONY RACES.

Passing INTO AND ROUND THE Pit.

_Ponies._ _Colours._
1.--The Corinthian _Pink._
2.--Bob Logic’s Miss Sly _Stripe._
3.--Jerry’s Never to be beat _Blue._
4.--Dusty Bob _Black._
5.--Touch and-Go _Blue and Pink._
6.--The Out-and-Outer _Scarlet._

Stewards of the Race LOGIC, TOM, and JERRY.
Clerk of the Course DUSTY BOB.

☞ The eagerness of several Ladies and Gentlemen to Promenade the Course during the Race, having at times produced a temporary delay and inconvenience, they are respectfully intreated to observe the directions of the Clerk of the Course, who will attend with MRS. DUSTY BOB (_African Sal_) in their _Carriage from Maiden Lane, Battle Bridge_, for the purpose of preserving order.

THE CORINTHIAN’S DIARY.

_A Celebrated Comic Song, written by_

T. GREENWOOD, ESQ.

And Sung by Mr. Vale, at Sadler’s Wells Theatre, in the Character of BOB LOGIC.

SUNDAY, got _floor’d_, in _groggy_ plight,
MONDAY, quite stale, took anti-bilious,
Pester’d by nausea, nerves not quite right,
And noisy _duns_ quite supercilious:
A dish of Mocha, ’chovy toast,
Remov’d the spasms--increased attrition,
So started, when I’d skimm’d the _Post_,
To TATTERSALL’S, in high condition.

TUESDAY, got clean’d at _Rouge et Noir_,
And, done quite brown, was forc’d to toddle;
So then I vow’d to play no more,
Lest, like a lame duck, I should waddle.

WEDNESDAY, reflected; curs’d each star,
Swore never more a card to handle:
Went to the FIVES COURT, saw them spar,
And patronis’d CRIBB, NEAT, and RANDALL.

THURSDAY, _bowl’d_ down to ASCOT HEATH,
To sport my _blunt_ upon the races:
Rode my own mare almost to death,
For I had won three steeplechases:
Clean’d out again, I came away
Quite undismay’d, though out of feather,
At night I bolted to the play,
To drown ill-luck and care together.

Met with a _spree_, two glorious frays,
So went to work--I hate long parleys;
Kick’d up a row, then _starr’d_ the _glaze_,
And _mill’d_, in style, a brace of _Charley’s_:
_Morris’d_ away to ALMACK’S ROOMS,
Danc’d a quadrille, alert and showy,
Call’d at the FINISH, mops and brooms,
And tumbled to bed as drunk as Chloe.

FRIDAY, I went to see dear NANCY,
But found a _Covey_ there before me,
Was forc’d to _bolt_, I’d lost my chance,
But KATE, I knew, would still adore me:
So off I set, stay’d SATURDAY,
My comforts took, then home departed;
Book’d for next week, with spirits gay,
I for a fresh game, on SUNDAY started.

SADLER’S WELLS.

PIERCE EGAN,

_The Author_
of
TOM & JERRY;
or,
_Life in London_.

Most respectfully informs the Public, and his numerous Friends in the
Sporting World, that:

(Before “all the GOLD _is taken off the_ GINGERBREAD,” being contented
with a Small Slice of it,) his

BENEFIT
is fixed for
Wednesday
_The 25th September, 1822_.

When a Variety Entertainment, will be performed, in which
THE AUTHOR
_Will make his First and only Appearance on this Stage, in a_
PRINCIPAL CHARACTER.

LIFE IN A SPREE.

A Spree’s the thing, with potent port made merry,
“Go it BOB LOGIC,” “Keep it up,” cries JERRY.

The _Upper Story_ all abroad--Mr. Lushington at Work; and when the Wine is in, the Wit is out--Ripe for any thing--How to make a Stop--Watch go--And getting the best of the Timekeepers--Must make a noise in the World:--

No way but this left to obtain renown,
_Kick up a Row_, and knock the CHARLIE’S down!

LIFE IN THE EAST.

ALL-MAX ...... _A bit of good Truth!_

Tickets not necessary--Any Port in a Storm--Never a Jack without a
Jill--All happiness: no questions asked: and one half the world don’t
know how the other half lives--(_or dies!_)--No matter! Plenty of
_Taste_--_Patter_ without ceremony--And not particular to a _shade_
about _Lingo_. Spoting a _toe_ without a _shoe_, and no enquiry after
the _Snob’s_ Bill--_Reeling_ without _steps_--_Flooring_ instead of
_Waltzing_, and nothing the matter. _Country_ or _colour_ no
objection--_Ladies in mourning_ not prohibited--Black Sall don’t blush
for her appearance--And Dusty Bob not uneasy about his toggery--All
the same ONE HUNDRED Years hence!--PHILOSOPHY.

⁂ To prevent the trouble and fatigue of ascending the numerous Steps
to the Author’s SKY PARLOUR, (in Days of Yore, denominated a _Garret_,
as well as Tumbling over lots of Kids,) Tickets to be had of Messrs.
SHERWOOD, NEELY, and JONES, Paternoster Row; Office of the Weekly
Dispatch, Wine Office Court, Fleet Street; at all the Sporting Houses;
and Places for the Boxes can be taken of Mr. Parker, at the Box
Offices, Sadler’s Wells, from 10 till 4.

Full Particulars will be duly Announced.

BOXES 4s. PIT 2s. GALLERY 1s.

Glendinning, Printer, 25, Hatton Garden, London.

Brighton, of course, in common with all other large provincial towns 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 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:

THEATRE ROYAL, BRIGHTON.
LAST NIGHT BUT ONE.
TOM AND JERRY.

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 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 _multum in parvo_ phrases which are now introduced into passing conversations.”

“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 suppressed, 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 the 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 reproduced the highly popular and amusing Burletta of

TOM AND JERRY.

Corinthian Tom Mr. Power.
Bob Logic Mr. Chapman.
Jerry Hawthorn Mr. Russell.
Squire Hawthorn Mr. Chambers.
Tattersall Mr. Mortimer.
Yorkshire Cove Mr. Hatton.
Primefit Mr. Julian.
Bill Chaunt Mr. Whatford.
Dusty Bob Mr. Starmer.
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.
Mary Miss Cramer.
Hon. Mrs. Trifle Miss Grosette.
Fortune Teller Mrs. Grosette.
Mrs. Allright Miss H. Grosette.
African Sal Miss Black.

Country 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 AND ORSON.

Valentine Mr. Power.
Orson Mr. S. Chapman.

Creasy, Printer, _Gazette Office_, Brighton.

The notoriety which Tom and Jerry obtained in England, became the topic of conversation amongst our Gallic neighbours--nay, it crept so much into favour with the gay folks of Paris, LIFE IN LONDON was speedily translated into French, under the title of “The Diorama; or, Picturesque Rambles in London--containing the most faithful _Notices of the Character, Manners, and Customs of the English Nation_, in the various classes of Society. By M. S----.” The translation had a most extensive circulation in France.

The reception of Tom and Jerry was equally flattering--notwithstanding the great prejudices that had previously existed against it--in Dublin. Mr. Wrench, from the Adelphi Theatre, was specially engaged to play the part of Corinthian Tom. The first seven nights produced £1300; and the house, on Mr. Wrench’s benefit night, held £345.

The great success of “Life in London,” in its dramatic form in the Irish capital lead up to the publication of:--

“REAL LIFE IN IRELAND; or, the Day and Night Scenes, Rovings, Rambles,
and Sprees, Bulls, Blunders, Bodderation, and Blarney of Brian Born,
Esq., and his elegant friend _Sir Shawn O’Dogherty_. 1829. Coloured
plates.”

In which the pictorial style of the Brothers Cruikshank was imitated from an Hibernian point of view and colouring.

At both the Theatres in Edinburgh, Tom and Jerry attracted crowded audiences, according to the Editor of the _Edinburgh Dramatic Review_, who states thus:--

“At length the public of Edinburgh had opportunity of judging of the merits of the above celebrated Extravaganza. From the general tendency of the remarks which appeared in the newspapers, we were led to suppose that this piece consisted of indecency and gross vulgarity. From what we heard reported as to the numerous indelicacies which this sketch of Fun, Frolic, Fashion, and Flash contained, we were afraid that its success with our sober citizens would have been precarious; but, we are happy to say, that the applause which was bestowed on it by the unprecedentedly numerous assemblage on Saturday evening, January 25, 1823, which crowded the Caledonian Theatre, is a sufficient answer to the chimerical doubts which were industriously circulated against its propriety. There is nothing, as we before remarked, associated with disgust or offence. There is neither one word, action, or situation, in the whole course of the piece, that can possibly raise a blush, or offend the most fastidious moralist!”

The Burletta of TOM and JERRY had been repeated so often all over the kingdom, and particularly in the metropolis, 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 Cruikshank.”

“Beat out of the Pit, and thrown over the Ropes,
TOM and JERRY resign’d their last breath,
With them, too, expired the Manager’s 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 _Nob_, 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 their _sudden_ exit,
Nor PIERCE EGAN die--_broken-hearted_!”

In reference to the above, Pierce Egan states that Jemmy Catnach, the renowned Ballad-monger of the Seven Dials, in less than twelves hours after the publication, produced a pirated edition for street sale, for two-pence.

Mr. Pierce Egan, in his “_Finish_,” states that he reckoned no less than sixty-five separate publications, which he enumerates _in 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, unfortunately, 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 CLIMAX to the adventures of TOM, JERRY, and LOGIC.” The last remark is in reference to the publication of “PIERCE EGAN’S FINISH to the Adventures of TOM, JERRY, and LOGIC, in their Pursuits through LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON. With numerous coloured illustrations by Robert Cruikshank. London: George Virtue & Co., Ivy Lane, Paternoster Row.” Seven years after the date of “The Life in London.” In common with almost all other sequels, or “continuations” it was not successful--the fact being that Pierce Egan, and the subject of his work were alike literally and financially “used up!”

Old 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 _trifling 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, _robbers_ of the most unprincipled description--a set of vampires--living upon “the brains” of other persons, and who dare not to think for themselves.

Catnach brought out a broadside, or “whole-sheet,” for street-sale, entitled:--

_LIFE IN LONDON_;
OR, THE SPREES OF
TOM AND JERRY;
ATTEMPTED IN CUTS AND VERSE.

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.

NOTICE:--This is to give Notice to those persons who are in the habit
of pirating my copyrights that if they dare to print any part of this
Sheet, they shall be proceeded against according to Law. JAMES
CATNACH.

_EIGHTEENTH EDITION._

LONDON: Printed & Sold by Jas. Catnach,
2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials, of whom may be had
The Queen’s Life, in Cuts & Verse.
PRICE TWO PENCE.

The “broadside,” which Pierce Egan calls--“Another wicked piracy, by Catnach,” consists of twelve woodcuts,--of which we have given _facsimiles_ in our pages--it will be seen that they are reduced and very roughly executed copies of the original plates by the Brothers Cruikshank, but in reverse. Therefore the swaggering NOTICE TO PIRATES which Jemmy Catnach published reads funny enough. 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 piratical edition of “Life in London” it is superfluous to enlarge, and it is easy to account for this circumstance, if we reflect that the broadside form of publication is by no means calculated for preservation; hundreds of similar pieces printed at the “Catnach Press” and at other offices publishing 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 reason above stated, it must be considered as a great “Literary Curiosity.”[38]

As we have before observed, “Life in London” was dedicated by permission to George IV., and it is a circumstance 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 consummate 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 Tom--meē--Tom--meē Jerry!”

Poor Billy 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 morn to dewy eve,” and from January to December, was:--

Polly will you marry me--Polly don’t you cry,
Polly will you marry me--Polly don’t you cry:--
Cry--cry--cry!

Mr. W. T. Moncrieff, the dramatist, is responsible for the following biographical notice of this old London Street Character:--“Of this meritorious and lamented individual, we had with great trouble collected from various sources, an ample and interesting Biography. But unfortunately for posterity, in the same classic regions where he lost his life, _we_ also lost his life; and, to tell the truth under the influence of the same seductive fluid too--_Daffy!_--we can therefore only present our reader with a few brief notices from memory.”

BILLY WATERS, was born in the powerful African kingdom of TONGOCONGOTABOO, where he was a native Prince, and bore the name of POKIKOKIQUANKO; from this place he was at an early age, to the universal regret of his loving subjects, kidnapped, by ‘an auld Quaker,’ who bought him from his treacherous attendants, for two axes, a frying-pan and a bag of nails. This _black_ piece of business made him a slave, in the French settlement, at Demarara, from whence however he speedly took _French leave_, and entered, we believe, the British navy as a cook _par excellence_ on board the Ganymede sloop of war, under the command of Sir John Purvis, where, during a fierce engagement, he lost a leg, some say gallantly fighting the enemies of old England, though others insinuate it was through falling down the cockpit ladder, in his great hurry to hide himself. His own version was that he fell from the top-sail yard to the quarter deck during a storm, we cannot pretend to decide which was the fact, it however occasioned his being sent to England, as unfit for service. Arriving in London, he betook himself to that wild mode of life, which best suited his origin; the trammels of civilized society, had no charm for him; he scorned the mechanical rules of man, and picked up his living wherever he could find it. Born a Prince, and bearing a native princeliness in his appearance it is not to be wondered at that his associates should speedly elect him to the regal dignity of their tribe.

In the year 1812 Billy was solemnly inauguared _ex cathedra_ into the sovereignty of mendicityship--King of the Beggars--at the cellar of St. Patrick in St Giles’, a rank he supported with great satisfaction and majesty, till the luckless period when a rival _Billy_ (BODKIN), by being placed at the head of the mendicity society, virtually became King of the Beggars in his own right. This--as he conceived it, cruel usurpation by Bodkin, pricked Billy just a leetle too hard. From that moment he drooped as a blighted _lily_, and like another black hero he exclaimed--‘Othello’s occupation’s 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 partake of:--

“Shoulder of veal and garnish--Turkey and appendages--Parmesan and
Filberts--Port and Madeira.” Billy on hearing the above list given out
as forming the “peck and booze for the evening,” exclaimed “Dat dam
goot, me like a de Madery--Landlord, here, you give this bag of broken
wittals, vot I had give to me to day, to some genteel dog vot pass
your door: and you make haste wid de supper, you curse devil you.”

_Enter_ LANDLORD _with Supper_.

_Landlord._ Now, your honours, here’s the rum peck, here’s the supper.

_Billy._ Eh, de supper! de supper! come along. (_After striking_
CREEPING JACK _on the fingers with a knife_) you damn nasty dog! what
for you put yur dirty fingers in de gravy? you call dat gentlemans?
you want your fingers in de pie, now you got him dere!

_Jack._ I only wish’d to taste the stuffining.

_Billy._ And now you taste de carver knife instead! (_Takes candle,
and looks at supper_). Vy, what him call dis?

_Landlord._ Why the turkey and the pie, to be sure.

_Billy._ De turkey and de pie! I tink you said de turkey and de
pie,----what! de turkey widout de sassinger! him shock----him wouldn’t
give pin for turkey widout dem----me like a de Alderman in chain.

_Landlord._ I’m very sorry, Mr. Waters, but----

_Billy._ You sorry!----I sorry for my supper, you damn dog, you serve
up de turkey without de sassinger--no lemon to de weal--no hoyster
saase to de rum’-steaks, who you tink eat rum’-steaks widout de
hoyster saase? You send no filberts to de Port, nor debils to de
Madery nather. Mee must use some other hot-hell--you dog.

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.--“Him lend him ole fiddle to him uncle at de pop shop,” and the wooden _pin_ (leg) which had so often 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_. At length, in the full belief that his spirit was about to flee to meet his coloured ancestors in the realms of bliss and a free hunting ground, he duly made his will, in which he bequeathed to W. Bodkin, Esq,--_Billy Bodkin_, the Hon. Sec. to the Mendicity Society: a bodkin that had so often pierced Billy to the heart--his wooden leg, earnestly desiring he might receive it in his _latter end_.

In life he had been accustomed to wear a military cocked hat, a judge’s full-bottomed cauliflower wig, and a naval officer’s jacket and trousers, symbolical of his being the head and arbiter of the naval, military, and judicial departments in his eleemosynary kingdom, these he bequeathed in the following manner: His _wig_ he left to the COURT OF CHANCERY, in the vague hope that they might obtain with it a little of his decision in equity, and promptness in justice. His _military hat_ he left to the HEADS of the HORSE GUARDS, and his _naval jacket_ and _trousers_ to the _old washerwomen_ that manage the GREENWICH HOSPITAL. The DEAL FIDDLE, on which he had been used to scrape his _native_ WOOD _notes wild_, we are happy to state, was taken out of lavender, and is now in the possession of the TYBURN _Ketch_ and Glee Club--the duplicate having been bequeathed to them for that purpose.

In conclusion we have only to state, that Billy was an accomplished cadger, a skilful musician, and adroit dancer--doing more on one leg than many others on two, and possessed abilities that as an actor would have rendered him a _shining_ ornament to the stage--“to hold, as t’were, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own black _image_!”

Billy was considered of sufficient public importance, when in the _flesh_, to be moulded and well _baked_ by 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; which 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 in the Bethnal Green Museum, London. Henry Willett, Esq. of Brighton, also exhibits his fine collection of the same class of ware at the Brighton Free Public Library.

LINES ON BILLY WATERS.

BY W. REEVES, _June, 1823_.

Peace to the manes of Black Billy Waters,
Well-known throughout the Town!
The reason that he left these quarters--
Is plain--He was by Death done _brown_.

His life was one continu’d round
Of pleasure and of glee;
His fiddle caus’d the hearts to bound
Of children as big as me.

_Mags_ came thick, this made him merry;
Fortune changes in a crack--
Folks they went t’see Tom and Jerry,
And on Billy turn’d their back.

Justice, at length, seiz’d on poor Bill,
Who quickly took his _peg_ off;
So they didn’t send him to the _Mill_,
’Cause, why? he’d got a leg off.

His day was o’er, he soon found out
Poverty with rapid stride
Follow’d him, and clamor’s shout
Meant poor Billy to deride.

In vain he fiddl’d, danc’d and sung,
Until he was out of breath;
Starving he was, his bow unstrung,
Till he danc’d--_The Dance of Death_.

The real name of this notorious street-character was Andrew Whiston. He was a born cripple, and in every respect a most miserable object of charity. Moncrieff imported him into his Adelphi version of “Tom and Jerry; or, Life in London,” as “Little Jemmy,” and there figures in the SCENE: _Back Slums in the Holy Land_: in company with Mr. Jenkins, Soldier Suke, Dingy Bet, Creeping Jack, Billy Waters, Ragged Dick, and other well-known characters.--_Vide_ page 46.

For many years Andrew, _alias_ “Little Jemmy,” had been in the habit of propelling himself about the streets of London in a little truck, or box on wheels, assisted by the aid of two small crutches. He always wore a white apron to conceal the deformity of his legs, which were curved, and had the appearance of thin planks, having no calves.

To avoid the penalties attached to begging and vagrancy he usually carried a few quill pens stuck in his coat and apron; declaring it to be the only trade to which he had been brought up, whence he was called _The Penmaker_! He has been heard to acknowledge he derived as much in his perambulations through the streets as amounted to £2 per week. It was his custom every morning to cross over Blackfriars Bridge for the purpose of gathering alms. He always prided himself as _leader_ of the “_Cadgers_,” in the metropolis, and was one of the most dissipated of the class to which he belonged; never returning to the hovel, in which he took up his abode, in the Borough, except in a state of intoxication. In his fits of inebriety, when at a distance from home, and incapable of proceeding, he was generally picked up by some of the numerous coalheavers, residing in the same quarter of the town, and carried to his dwelling on their shoulders; this, from his diminutive stature, was no very difficult task to perform.

On the night of his death, which occurred Monday, April 3, 1826, he had been drinking spirits, and porter, during the day, and was as usual carried home by two men; for which they were to receive a pot of beer. On setting down their burden, the unfortunate man--who had been conveyed with his head downwards, was discovered to be in a dying state. Surgical assistance was immediately procured, but poor “_Little Jemmy_,” was quite dead ere it arrived. Information of his death was given at 11 o’clock to the night constable of St. Saviour’s Parish, who proceeded to the house, the inmates of which refused to give up the body, on the ground that their late lodger died in their debt a month’s rent. Another strong reason for their refusal in delivering up the corpse, was a report that prevailed in the neighbourhood, that the surgeons of both the hospitals in the Borough had offered no less a sum than £100 for the body after death, for the purpose of dissection, in consequence of its extraordinary formation. The constable, however, claimed the body of the deceased, as none of his relations were on the spot, and conveyed it away to the watch-house, clearly perceiving that if it was left behind, the inmates would dispose of it to the highest bidder.

On Friday, April 7, an inquest was held at the Rose and Ball public-house, Bankside, Southwark, before R. Carter, Esq. Upon the return of the jury after viewing the body, all of whom expressed their astonishment at the decrepitude and peculiar formation of the singular little man. The surgeon in attendance having described the death to have occurred in consequence of apoplexy. The jury brought in a verdict in accordance with the medical evidence that the deceased died of “APOPLEXY.”

The day after the inquest sat on the body it was conveyed to St. Saviour’s Burial ground, and interred in a grave dug 14 feet in depth from the surface, over which were placed three other coffins, in order to secure it against the resurrection-men, who were anxious to have the corpse to dispose of.

Subsequently to the death of BILLY WATERS, the notorious black mendicant fiddler--March, 1823; “LITTLE JEMMY” acquired the soubriquet of The King of the Beggars.

The Tread-Mill at Brixton.

In the year 1817, Mr.--afterwards Sir William--Cubitt, of Ipswich, erected a Tread-Mill at Brixton Gaol--and soon afterwards in other large prisons, as a species of _preventive punishment_, which excited much attention and terror to evil doers, and proved eminently useful in decreasing the number of commitments; the strict discipline had a most salutary effect upon the prisoners not easily to be forgotten. Yet, 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 now punished by the _cubit_!

In nearly all the new and fa--vour--ite comic songs of the day allusion was made to the TREADMILL OF BRIXTON as--_The Everlasting Stairs!--The Stepping Mill!--The New Dancing Academy! &c._ A street-ballad on the subject was issued from the “Catnach Press” and had a most unprecedented sale, keeping 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 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_ and _judg’d_,
And _grinding_ is their station.
The _Gambling swells_ who near St. James’
Have _play’d_ 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 their _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’ll 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 Miller_.
Ye bits of blood (the watchman’s dread)
Who love to floor a _Charley_,
As you delight to strip and fight,
Come forth and _mill_ the _barley_.

_John Barleycorn’s_ a stout old blade,
As every man puts trust in,
And you will make no _meal_ of him,
But he’ll give you a _dusting_.
But here we’ll stay, for _puns_ they say,
Are bad as stealing purses
And I to _Brixton_ may be sent,
To _grind_ some _floury verses_.

THE WARNING.

_Supposed to have been sung by a Cadger to his Companions on his Return from “The New Dancing Academy,” Brixton._

_Tune._--“BOW WOW, &C.”

You Cadgers all, both great and small,
Attend to vat I say, Sirs,
All prigging stow, or you vill go
Where I com’d from to day, Sirs.
As down the Strand, a Gent so grand,
Was strutting, mighty fine, Sirs,
His hankercher hung out so fur,
I really thought ’twas mine, Sirs.
Tol de rol, &c.

I made a grab--he did me nab,
To quod I quick vas taken;
The magistrate he sat in state:
I trembl’d for my bacon.
Evidence o’er--oh vhat a bore!--
His eyes on me he fix’d on;
Says he to me, “Go, have a spree
At the _Treading Mill at Brixton_.”
Tol de rol, &c.

Vhen I reach’d there, a surly bear,
The steps he bid me mount, Sirs--
From Dirty Dick, up to the kick,
Ve’d a swelling black legg’d Count, Sirs.
Both high and low, they have a go:
Oh! ’tis a decent pill, Sirs.
They step avay, and cry all day,
“The devil take the Mill, Sirs.”
Tol de rol, &c.

Then varning take, and keep avake,
For _Traps_ are not asleep, Sirs;
They prowl about, to find us out,
Like volves do after sheep, Sirs.
My life I’ll change--don’t think it strange,
I’ll vork, that’s vat I vill, Sirs,
Both night and day, to keep away
From the curs’d _Treading Mill_, Sirs,
Tol de rol, &c.

In the Adelphi version of “Tom & Jerry,” there is as follow:--

_Black Slums in the Holy Land._

_Mr. J._ Does any gemmen understand these here Tread Mills, that have lately got such a footing?

_Jack._ Silence! Gemmen: I’m a-going to make a hobservation, Mr. Jenkins means them there Mills as makes you vork vether there’s any vork or no--I can only say this here, gemmen, if them there Mills are encouraged, it von’t be vorth no body’s vile to exercise vone’s calling--because, vy, von may as vell go and vork for vone’s living at once--but the subject von’t bear not no thinking on.

_Omnes._ Not by no means. (_General groans_).

_Billy Waters._ Oh, curse a de Tread Mill, me no like a de “here we go up, up, up,” and “down you go down, down, down,”--an’ if you no work, a great big lump of wood come and knock you down so--(_Strikes beggar on head with his fiddle, who falls down_). Poor fellow, him werry sorry.

_Tom and Jerry; or, Life in London._

TUNE.--“Picture of a Playhouse.”

Of Life in London, Tom, Jerry, and Logic I sing,
’Tis a subject (I hope it will please)
Men and boys in my ears long time they did ding,
So I determined to risk a good squeeze--
To the Strand then I toddled--the mob it was great--
My watch I found gone--pockets undone:
I fretted, at first, and rail’d against fate,
For I paid well to see “Life in London.”

_Spoken._-“La, vel now, if I a’n’t all of a perspiration,--positively, I’m in a _melting_ mood;” this was uttered by a tallow chandler’s fat wife. Her hubby, Mr. Wicks, cries out “What the devil are you talking about _melting_?--for my part, I hate mention of business when I’m out on pleasure.” “Come, don’t be _dipping_ in my pocket, if you please, Sir.” “Vat, vat is de matter?” “Wat! who’s talking of wats?” “Vy, my dear Mr. Vicks, I think this man’s making a reticule of me.” “By the powers! it is a very fortunate circumstance he be making a reticule for you, Ma’am, for that there young man, in the drab great coat, has just cut yours from the chain, and put it in his pocket.” “Mind what you’re arter, mind your pockets.” “Where are you pushing to?” “Where am I pushing to? I’m pushing

To see Tom and Jerry,
The lads who delight in
A bottle of Sherry
And watch to be fighting,
For that’s the time o’ day.

In the course of the piece is the parlour of Cribb,
There they chaunted their songs full of glee;
In the chair sits blythe Tom, he’s the real boy to fib,
And he’s also the boy for a spree.
The street-row comes next, and is kept up so well,
That I laugh’d and never wish’d the fun done,
Those who play Charlies, I’m sure they can tell
What a street-row is in fam’d London.

_Spoken._--“La! now, is this not a delightful picture of life! how do you like it, my dear?” “Oh Mamma, I likes it very well, only one thing is, I’m sorry I didn’t bring some hapennies out of my money-box, to give the poor beggar-people.” “Dear little innocent!” “Was you innocent when you was little, Mamma?” “Yes, my love.” “But, are you innocent now, Mamma?” “Why, yes--that is to say--as most women of my age are, my dear.” “Well. Mr. O’Quiz, how do you like the piece?” “Faith, now, the piece is very well, only one thing.” “And what may that be, pray?” “Why, I’m not inclined to make any objection at all, at all: but, by my soul! this is the first time I ever saw or heard of Life in St. Giles’s, without an Irishman being concerned in it.” “Hollo! what is all this hubbubboo?” “Why, it’s the half price, pushing in

To see Tom and Jerry, &c.

High life and low life are correctly pourtrayed
At Almack’s, I mean both the East and the West.
The actor’s look life, they so well are arrayed,
But the Back Slums to my mind is surely the best.
Logic a party invites to give them a treat,
The bailiff comes in and Bob’s undone;
He by Nab’em is _press’d_ and ta’en to the _Fleet_,
Which brings to a close Life in London.

_Spoken._--The piece being over, there’s a grand rush to the doors: then, hey for the pleasures of a soaking wet night. “Well, positively, ’pon honor, if it does’nt rain; its enough to make any one _cross_ when one’s going out to a _ball_.” “Want a coach your honor?” “Yes, drive me to _St. Paul’s_.” “What, in the name of St. Patrick, can he want at the _cross_ and _ball_ of _St. Paul’s_ at this time of night?” “Oh! bless my soul! I think I’ve broken my leg.” “Coach to Cripplegate.” “I say, look at that Cove diving at that Gent’s pocket.” “I hope you’ll excuse me, but I’ve got a cold, therefore want my hankerchief; but, as you’re so fond of _diving_, I’ll accommodate you--the Thames is near, and you shall have a dam’d good _ducking_.” “All right, Coachee.” “Watch! Watch!” “Hark! the Pianos going.” “Watch! Watch!” “What’s the row?” “Oh! only some fancy Lads, who, having seen the Charlies well mill’d inside, have already commenced milling them outside, and the word with them is

We’re like Tom and Jerry, &c.

The following ballad is from the “Catnach Press:”--

_PIERCE EGAN; OR, LIFE IN LONDON._

Written by a Corinthian, and sung in Prime Twig by an Out-and-Outer.

In the country, our squire
Had a very large book,
Which into my hands
I quite often had took;
Life in London, I think,
Were the name that it had,
And ’twas wrote by Pierce Egan,
That comical lad.
Oh, Pierce Egan! knowing Pierce Egan,
You must in your time have seen wonderful fun.

When I first came from country
Into this great town,
I laugh’d at each joke
As I walked up and down;
Till three fellows I met,
They were bold as could be;
And Tom, Jerry, and Logic,
Say they, you now see.
Oh, Pierce Egan! &c.

At night, in the street,
You are sure of a row,
And the Charlies are bother’d
I cannot tell how;
But if to the watch-house
The chaps be all taken,
You’ll find Egan’s heroes
To be there, sure as bacon.
Oh, Pierce Egan &c.

E’en the boys in the street
Do talk flash, you must know,
And the real out-and-outers
Do strut to and fro;
While a _gemmen_ in powder
From none will retreat,
But will _peel_, a coal-heaver,
Or dustman to beat.
Oh, Pierce Egan! &c.

And since Life in London
Has been all the rage,
There’s nothing else now
That will do for the stage;
And parsons, and tailors,
And barbers likewise
Go to Spring, Cribb, or Belcher,
To learn to black eyes.
Oh, Pierce Egan! &c.

But this I must say
To my friends in this place,
That _chaffing_ and _milling_
Does puppies disgrace;
And if they would know
How such knaves may be undone,
They’ll read that same book
Which is called Life in London.
Oh, Pierce Egan! &c.

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

“Pity the sorrows of a poor old man.”

St. Giles’s clock had sounded two,
The moon was on the wane,
And bitterly the north wind blew;
In torrents fell the rain.

When like a goblin from the grave,
A ghastly form appear’d,
And thrice a grievous groan it gave,
Thrice scratch’d its grisly beard.

Tall, wretched, shiv’ring, pale and thin,
It brav’d the pelting storm,
Without an upper Benjamin
To keep the carcase warm.

Prostrate upon the flags it lay,
Where Seven Dials meet;
And “Och!” it cried, “is this the way
A jontleman to treat?

“I soon must haste to join the throng
On Pluto’s dreary coast--
I’ve given up my _spirits_ long,
Now I’ll give up the _ghost_.

“Yes! I must go, at fate’s command,
In Charon’s ferry boat,
And change the _rattle_ in my hand
For _rattles_ in my throat.

“That rattle which the prigs to catch
Would other Charleys bring,
_Watchmen_, we know, are like a _watch_--
Nothing without a _spring_.

“My lanthorn!--and the thought, I vow,
The sob of sorrow draws;
No _lanthorn_ can I carry now,
Except my _lanthorn jaws_.

“With grief unfeign’d my heart is big--
The power of utterance fails,
And losing thee, my old _Welsh_ wig,
This tortur’d heart be-_Wails_.

“My night-cap red, which this poor head
Hath screen’d from damp and dew,
Like my poor cap, I’ve lost my _nap_,
And I am _worsted_ too.

“Snug in my _box_ I bore the shocks
Of drunkard’s jeer and scoffing;
Now the vile _cough_ will take me off,
And _box_ me in a _coffin_.

“To thee, my pipe, my bosom yearns--
Those moments, free from pain,
In which I sat and smok’d _returns_,
Will ne’er _return_ again.

“This New Police has laid me flat--
Let Christian hearts condole;
And in the mud they _roll_ poor _Pat_,
Who once was a _Patrol_.

“Och! when I think of former years,
It almost drives me crazy;
Bear up, my sowl--be dry, my tears--
My throbbing heart be azy.

“Once I was young, but now I’m owld,
Once full of fun and frisky--
But now I shudder with the cowld
And the devil a drop of whisky!”

He spoke, and sadly gaz’d around
(The last words he could utter),
Then with a mournful _guttural_ sound,
Roll’d headlong in the _gutter_.

Printed by T. BIRT, 10, Great St. Andrew-Street,
(wholesale and retail,) Seven Dials, London.

Country Orders punctually attended to.
Every description of Printing on the most reasonable terms,
Children’s Books, Battledores, Pictures, &c.

THE SPREES OF TOM, JERRY AND LOGIC;

_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 Logic 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, 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 Drury-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 Jerry, Tom, and Logic 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 Logic, Tom, and Jerry, do cordially unite,
To thank you for your patronage, and wish you all Good Night.

With their dash along, &c.

LONDON:
Printed by J. CATNACH, 2 Monmouth Court, 7 Dials.
Battledores, Lotteries, and Primers sold cheap.
Travellers and Shopkeepers supplied with Sheet Hymns. Patter and Slips.
Songs as Cheap and Good as any Shop in London. Where an
Immense number of songs are always ready.
☞ Cards, &c., Printed cheap.

I’M A CONSTABLE IN MY OWN RIGHT.

I’m a Constable in my own right,
I think that I am of some use;
A searching by day and by night;
Correcting of every abuse.
I carries my staff in my hand,
My power to let the folks see;
I’m certain all over the land
There’s no one so busy as me.
And I’m a Constable, &c.

A Beggar I know by his rags,
A thief I can tell by his looks;
My eyes and my nose never flags,
I puts ’em down in my black books;
The blind beggars when they sees me
A coming ne’er stops to stand still;
Tho’ ever so lame, they walk free,
Or else they would walk to the mill.
For I’m a Constable, &c.

The Publicans all are polite,
As soon as they sees me come in,
They press, and entreat, and invite
To choose of rum, brandy, or gin;
But from me they gets a rebuff,
The offer I always decline;
I scorns to take such vile stuff,
As I never drinks nothing but wine.
And I’m a Constable, &c.

The Watchmen don’t dare go to sleep,
They knows they’d be fined if they do;
Round with the Patroles I creep,
Each morning between one and two.
The Patrole’s don’t like it, ’tis true,
But of me they all are afraid,
And I’m resolved my duty to do,
For I know there’s some cash to be made.
For I’m a Constable, &c.

Old women who sits with the fruit,
Had better not come in my claw;
I pulls ’em up----won’t let ’em do’t,
Because ’tis contrary to law:
Such nuisances ought to be fin’d
And I get a share of the pelf;
My trouble I never don’t mind,
’Cause I keeps a green-grocer’s myself.
And I’m a Constable, &c.

The Watch-house owns me for its king,
I reigns there without a control;
If any blackguards they bring,
I sends ’em down to the black hole;
But if a gentleman gets drunk, so free,
And is brought in----mayhap for a whim
If he behaves genteel to me,
Why I behaves genteel to him.
For I’m a Constable, &c.

When I sits in my chair of a night,
Should any unfortunate _gals_
Be brought in, I thinks it but right
To commit ’em along with their pals.
The Toms and the Jerrys I hooks,
And takes them to Bow Street, next day;
Tho’ when very sorry they looks,
I lets them off if they can pay.
For I’m a Constable, &c.

The butchers’ and chandlers’ shops,
What used to be serving o’ Sunday,
So shockingly wicked, I stops;
I pulls them all up on the Monday,
I shows no favours to none,
My labours they seem to prove double,
And thinks before I have done,
I shall save Mr. Johnson some trouble.
For I’m a Constable, &c.

Our Parish has got a bad plan,
’Tis always to quarrel and storm;
I’m sure I shall do all I can
To bring on a speedy reform:
Our Overseers are all quite strange,
And that any body may see;
It would make a most wonderful change,
If they all were as busy as me.
For I’m a Constable, &c.

LONDON:
Printed by GOLD and WALTON, Wardour Street, Oxford Street,
For T. Hudson, Kean’s Head, Russell Court, Drury Lane,
1828.

When again shall we THREE meet,
Amongst the _Swells_ in Regent Street?
Come soon, my boy--come with glee,
For lots of FUN--another _Spree_!

With respect to the publication of LIFE IN LONDON; or, the Day and Night Scenes of Tom and Jerry. The proverbial everybody seems for the _nonce_ to have been pleased with the work. The thirty-six scenes from Real Life, designed and etched by the Brothers Cruikshank had much to do with its success, and everybody seems to have made a great deal of money out of the circumstance--save and except the author, Pierce Egan, for he very loudly and frequently, and also “_cry-baby-like_,” declared _inter alia_, that he received--“more of the kicks than the halfpence” by reason of the _Pirates_ and _Thieves_ being ever on the alert to _prig_ his thoughts and ideas, and that the whole crew of them united to _grab_ all the “_lively things!_” out of his head, and so render the “cash account” at his bankers all but nugatory. Then--“came the cry of immorality, so loudly raised by the Actor’s old rivals the Religious Tract Society, the Methodists, and other sectarian parties.” Yet, in spite of all that could be said or sung in the matter Pierce wrote that--“he was _too game_ to be made a _dummy_ of: therefore he was determined _to take the leap_, and have another “_shy-up_,” and go “_double or quits_,” with that supreme goddess of the gods FAME!!! and try his luck once more in the field of literature and announced the publication of his new work _The Finish_ thus:--

THE AUTHOR TO THE READERS OF
LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON.

After the lapse of Seven Years the Author has once more seized hold of the _feather_, and the Artist his _pencil_, with an earnest endeavour to follow the advice of our immortal bard, or rather adopt him as a model, “nothing to extenuate, or set down aught in malice!” and:--

To hold as ’twere
The Mirror up to Nature; to show Virtue her own feature,
Vice her own image, and the very age
And body of the Time, its form and pressure.

Then thus it is--the “glorious uncertainty” of pleasing every class of society respecting a knowledge of LIFE IN LONDON being essential towards the improvement of the junior branches of mankind; and although contrary to the established and sapient rules of the College of Physicians, and the practice pursued by our learned friends in Westminster Hall, we are, nevertheless, anxious to give advice without a fee, in order to prove that, in all cases, whether connected with youth or more mature age, PREVENTION is much better than CURE; indeed, so anxious are we to set ourselves right with the public, as to our future intentions respecting this work, and that we may see our way clearly, and tread on the firmest ground, we feel inclined to adopt the latin proverb so often quoted by BOB LOGIC to the unsuspecting JERRY, on his first arrival in the metropolis:--

_Incidit in Scyllam qui vult vitare Charybdim._

The necessity is absolute; or, rather, an apology is required for the introduction of the Author and Artist to the notice of reader, previous to the second appearance of those heroes--CORINTHIAN TOM, LOGIC and JERRY, on the great theatre of the world! _pour quoi?_ to vindicate the characters of the Author and Artist from unmerited aspersion of having attempted, by the joint efforts of real tales, original anecdotes, and animated sketches, to demoralize the rising generation; and likewise to refute the charge of having turned the heads of older folks towards the commission of acts of folly and intemperance enough! To our task----“Hark forward’s the word, see the game is in view!” and our exertions will be vigorously directed to establish, if possible. “_Tâche sans tâche._” Our principal aim being to realize, to the utmost extent, the attractive motto:--

PRO BONO PUBLICO!

Proceed, my boy, nor heed their further call,
Vain his attempts who strives to please you all!

THE
_FINISH TO THE ADVENTURES_
OF
TOM, JERRY, AND LOGIC,
In their Pursuits through
LIFE IN AND OUT OF LONDON,
BY PIERCE EGAN.

With numerous Coloured Illustrations by
ROBERT CRUIKSHANK.

London:
George Virtue and Co.,
Ivy Lane,
Paternoster Row.

The _Finish_ to Life in London is embellished with thirty six illustrations by Robert Cruikshank, and contains XV. CHAPTERS of letter-press matter. Tom, Jerry and Logic are again brought on the scene, and several additional characters are introduced into the work, notably _Sir_ John Blubber, _Knt._, a second Falstaff, without stuffing, a most facetious, jolly, good-natured soul, one of that class of persons deemed independent, and his property enabled him to “care for nobody.” The adventures of the personnæ in their pursuits of Life in and Out of London are fully described, and the “_Finish!_” of LOGIC, the Oxonian, and CORINTHIAN TOM narrated as follow.