Part 11

Lawrence and his man, threw a cloth over their faces then fell to rifling their pockets, out of which they took one guinea, and about fifteen shillings in silver, with his keys. They said they must have more, and drove Mr. Lawrence up stairs, where coming to a closet, they broke open the door, and took out from thence two guineas, ten shillings, a silver cup, 13 silver spoons, and two gold rings. They then rifled the house of all they could get, linen, table cloths, shirts, and the sheets off the bed, and trod the beds under feet, to discover if any money was concealed therein. Suspecting there was more money in the house, they then brought Mr. Lawrence down again, and threatened to cut his throat, and Fielder put a knife to it, as though he intended to do it; to make him confess what money was in the house. One of them took a chopping bill, and threatened to cut off his leg: they then broke his head with their pistols, and dragged him about by the hair of his head. Another of them took the kettle off the fire, and flung it upon him; but it did no other harm just wetting him, because the maid had just before taken out the greater part of the boiling water, and filled it again with cold. After this they dragged him about again, swearing they would "do for him" if he did not immediately inform them where the rest of the money was hid. They then proceeded to make a further search; and then withdrew; threatening to return again in half an hour, and kill every one

DICK TURPIN. 5

they found loose. So saying they locked them in the parlour and threw the keys down the area.

Turpin by this robbery got but little, for out of the 26_l_, they took in the whole, he distributed it among them all but three guineas and six shillings and six pence.

A proclamation was issued for the apprehension of the offenders, and a pardon and 50_l_ was offered to any of the party who would impeach his accomplices, which however, had no effect. The white Hart in Drury-lane was their place of rendezvous. Here they planned their nightly visits, and here they divided their spoil, and spent the money they acquired.

The robbery being stated to the officers of Westminster, Turpin set off to Alton, where he met with an odd encounter, which got him the best companion he ever had, as he often declared. King, the highwayman, as he was returning from this place to London, being well dressed and mounted, Turpin seeing him have the appearance of a substantial gentleman, rode up to him, and thinking him a fair mark, bid him stand and deliver, and therewith producing his pistols, King fell a laughing at him, and said "what dog rob dog! Come, come, brother Turpin, if you don't know me, I know you, and shall be glad of your company." After a mutual communication of circumstances to each other, they agreed to keep company, and divide good or ill fortune as the trumps might turn up. In fact King was true to him to the last, which was for more than three years.

They met with various fortunes; but being too well known to

6 DICK TURPIN.

remain long in one place, and as no house that knew them would receive them in it, they formed the resolution of making themselves a cave, covered with bevins and earth, and for that purpose pitched upon a convenient place, enclosed with a thicket, situated on the Waltham side of Epping, near the sign of the King's Oak.

In this place Turpin lived, ate, drank, and lay, for the space of six years, during the first three of which he was enlivened by the drollery of his companion, Tom King, who was a fellow of infinite humour in telling stories, and of an unshaken resolution in attack or defence.

One day, as they were spying from their cave, they discovered a gentleman riding by, that King knew very well to be a rich merchant near Gresham College. This gentleman was in his chariot, and wife with him; his name was Bradele. King first attacked him on the Laughton road; but he being a man of great spirit, offered to make resistence, thinking there was but one; upon which King called Turpin, and bid him hold the horses' heads. They proceeded first to take his money, which he readily parted with, but demurred a good while about his watch, being the dying bequest of his father. King was insisting to take it away, when Turpin interposed, and said, they were more gentlemen than to deprive anyone of their friend's respect which they wore about them, and bid King desist from his demand.

On the day after this transaction they went to the Red Lion ale house, in Aldersgate street, where they had not been more than half an hour, when Turpin heard of the approach of the chief constable and his party; they mounted each their horse; but before King could get fairly seated he was seized by one of the party, and called on Dick to fire. Turpin replied, "If I do, I shall hit you." "Fire, if you are my friend." said King--Turpin fired, but the ill-fated ball took effect in King's breast. Dick stood a moment in grief, but self-preservation made him urge his mare forward to elude his pursuers; it was now he resolved on a journey to York, and raising himself in his saddle, he said, "By G--, I will do it." Encouraged by "Harkaway Bess," she flew on.

Astonishing to relate, he reached York the same evening and was noticed playing at bowls in the bowling-green with several gentlemen there, which circumstance saved him from the hands of justice for a time. His pursuers coming up and seeing Turpin, knew him; and caused him to be taken into custody; one of them swore to him and the horse he rode on, which was the identical one he arrived upon in that city; but on being in the stable, and its rider at play, and all in the space of four-and-twenty hours, his alibi was admitted; for the magistrates of York could not believe it possible for one horse to cover the ground, being upwards of 190 miles, in so short a space.

DICK TURPIN. 7

For the last two years of his life he seems to have confined his residence to the county of York, where he appears to be a little known. He often accompanied the neighbouring gentlemen in their parties of hunting and shooting; and one evening, on a return from an expedition of the latter kind, he saw one of his landlord's cocks in the street, which he shot.

The next day Mr. Hall received a letter from Robert Appleton, Long Sutton, with this account:--that the said John Palmer had lived there about three quarters of a year, and had before that been once apprehended, and made his escape, and that they had a strong suspicion he was guilty of horse-stealing.

Another information gave notice, that he had stolen a horse from Captain Dawson, of Ferraby; his horse was that which Turpin rode on when he came to Beverley, and which he stole from off Hickinton Fen in Lincolnshire.

He wrote to his father upon being convicted, to use his interest to get him off for transportation, but his fate was at hand, his notoriety caused application to be ineffectual.

After he had been in prison five months, he was removed from Beverley to York Castle to take his trial. When on his trial his case seemed much to affect the hearers. He had two trials, upon both of which he was convicted upon the fullest evidence. After a long trial the Jury brought in their Verdict and found him Guilty.

He was carried in a cart to the place of execution, on Saturday, April, 7th, 1739. He behaved himself with amazing assurance and bowed to the spectators as he passed. It was remarkable that as he mounted the ladder, his right leg trembled, on which he stamped it down with an air, and with undaunted courage looked round about him; and after speaking near half an hour to the topman, threw himself off the ladder, and expired in about five minutes.

W. S. Fortey, Printer, Monmouth Court, Bloomsbury.

"THE CATNACH PRESS," (ESTABLISHED 1813.)

WILLIAM S. FORTEY, (Sole Successor to the late J. Catnach.) Printer, Publisher, AND WHOLESALE STATIONER, 2 & 3, MONMOUTH COURT, SEVEN DIALS, LONDON, W.C.

The Cheapest and Greatest Variety in the Trade of Large Coloured Penny Books; Halfpenny Coloured Books; Farthing Books; Penny and Halfpenny Panoramas; School Books; Penny and Halfpenny Song Books; Memorandum Books; Poetry Cards; Lotteries; Ballads (4000) and Hymns; Valentines; Scripture Sheets; Christmas Pieces; Twelfth Night Characters; Carols; Book and Sheet Almanacks, Envelopes, Note Paper, &c.

W. S. FORTEY begs to inform his Friends and the Public generally, that after 19 years service he has succeeded to the business of his late employers (A. Ryle & Co.), and intends carrying on the same, trusting that his long experience will be a recommendation, and that no exertion shall be wanting on his part to merit a continuance of those favours that have been so liberally bestowed on that Establishment during the last 46 years.

1859.

THE LONG SONG-SELLER.

SONGS AND SONG LITERATURE.

"Old songs, old songs--what heaps I knew, From 'Chevy Chase' to 'Black-eyed Sue'; From 'Flow, thou regal, purple stream,' To 'Rousseau's melancholy Dream!' I loved the pensive 'Cabin Boy,' With earnest truth and real joy. To greet 'Tom Bowling' and 'Poor Jack'; And, oh! 'Will Watch,' the 'Smuggler' bold, My plighted troth thou'lt ever hold." ELIZA COOK.

"Songs! Songs! Songs! Beautiful songs! Love songs! Newest songs! Old songs! Popular songs! Songs, _Three Yards a Penny_!" was a "standing dish" at the "Catnach Press," and Catnach was the Leo X. of street publishers. And it is said that he at one time kept a fiddler on the premises, and that he used to sit receiving ballad-writers and singers, and judging of the merits of any production which was brought to him, by having it sung then and there to some popular air played by his own fiddler, and so that the ballad-singer should be enabled to start at once, not only with the new song, but also the tune to which it was adapted. His broad-sheets contain all sorts of songs and ballads, for he had a most catholic taste, and introduced the custom of taking from any writer, living or dead, whatever he fancied, and printing it side by side with the productions of his own clients.

He naturally had a bit of a taste for old ballads, music, and song writing; and in this respect he was far in advance of many of his contemporaries. To bring within the reach of all the standard and popular works of the day, had been the ambition of the elder Catnach; whilst the son was, _nolens volens_, incessant in his endeavours in trying to promulgate and advance, not the beauty, elegance, and harmony which pervades many of our national airs and ballad poetry, but very often the worst and vilest of each and every description--in other words, those most suitable for street-sale. His stock of songs was very like his customers, diversified. There were all kinds, to suit all classes. Love, sentimental, and comic songs were so interwoven as to form a trio of no ordinary amount of novelty. At ordinary times, when the Awfuls and Sensationals were flat, Jemmy did a large stroke of business in this line.

It is said that when the "Songs--_Three-yards-a-penny_"--first came out and had all the attractions of novelty, some men sold twelve or fourteen dozen on fine days during three or four of the summer months, so clearing between 6s. and 7s. a day, but on the average about 25s. a week profit. The "long songs," however, have been quite superseded by the "Monster" and "Giant Penny Song Books." Still there are a vast number of half-penny ballad-sheets worked off, and in proportion to their size, far more than the "Monsters" or "Giants."

As a rule there are but two songs printed on the half-penny ballad-sheets--generally a new and popular song with another older ditty, or a comic and sentimental, and "adorned" with two woodcuts. These are selected without any regard as to their fitness to the subject, and in most cases have not the slightest reference to the ballad of which they form the head-piece. For instance:--"The Heart that can feel for another" is illustrated by a gaunt and savage looking lion; "When I was first Breeched," by an engraving of a Highlander _sans culotte_; "The Poacher" comes under the cut of a youth with a large watering-pot, tending flowers; "Ben Block" is heralded by the rising sun; "The London Oyster Girl," by Sir Walter Raleigh; "The Sailor's Grave," by the figure of Justice; "Alice Grey" comes under the very dilapidated figure of a sailor, or "Jolly Young Waterman;" "Bright Hours are in store for us yet" is _headed_ with a _tail-piece_ of an urn, on which is inscribed FINIS! "The Wild Boar Hunt," by two wolves chasing a deer; "The Dying Child to its Mother," by an Angel appearing to an old man; "Autumn Leaves lie strew'd around," by a ship in full sail; "Cherry Ripe," by Death's Head and Cross Bones; "Jack at the Windlass," falls under a Roadside Inn; while "William Tell" is presented to the British public in form and style of an old woman nursing an infant of squally nature. Here follow a few examples of the style, also that of some of the ballad-sheets: together with various _verbatim_ imprints used by "THE CATNACH PRESS," chronologically arranged from _circa_ 1813 to the present time.

THE GALLANT _SAILOR_.

London: Printed by J. Catnach, and sold Wholesale and Retail at No. 60, Wardour Street, Soho Square.

Farewell thou dear and Gallant Sailor, Since thou and I have parted been, Be thou constant and true hearted, And I will be the same to thee.

CHORUS.

May the winds and waves direct thee, To some wishful port design'd, If you love me, don't deceive me, But let your heart be as true as mine.

* * * * *

When oft times my fancy tells me, That in battle thou art slain, With true love I will requite thee, When thou dost return again. May the winds, &c.

O RARE TURPIN.

Printed by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Sold by J. Sharman, Cambridge, Bennet, Brighton; & R. Harris, Salisbury.

As I was riding over Hunslow Moor, There I saw a lawyer riding before, And I asked him if he was not afraid, To meet bold Turpin that mischievous blade. CHORUS.--I asked him if he was not afraid, To meet bold Turpin that mischievous blade. Says Turpin to the lawyer and for to be cute, My money I have hid all in my boot, Says the lawyer to Turpin they mine can't find, For I have hid mine in the cape of my coat behind. I rode till I came to a powder mill, Where Turpin bid the lawyer for to stand still, For the cape of your coat it must come off, For my horse is in want of a new saddle cloth. Now Turpin robbed the lawyer of all his store, When that's gone he knows where to get more, And the very next town that you go in, Tell them you was robb'd by the bold Turpin.

MOUNTAIN MAID.

Printed by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Travellers and Shopkeepers supplied with Sheet Hymns. Patters, and Slip Songs as Cheap and Good as any Shop in London.

The Mountain Maid from her bower has hied, And speed to the glassy river's side, Where the radiant mead shone clear and bright, And the willows wav'd in the silver light. On a mossy bank lay a shepherd swain, He woke his pipe to tuneful strain, And so blythely gay were the notes he play'd, That he charm'd the ear of the Mountain Maid.

She step'd with timid fear oppress'd, While soft sighs swell her gentle breast, He caught her glance, and mark'd her sigh, And triumph laugh'd in his sparkling eye. So softly sweet was the tuneful ditty, He charmed her tender heart to pity; And so blithely gay were the notes he play'd, That he gain'd the heart of the Mountain Maid.

MEET ME IN THE WILLOW GLEN

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Cards, &c. Printed Cheap. [Symbol: Pointing hand] Country Shops and Travellers supplied.

Meet me in the willow glen, Where the silvery moon is beaming, Songs of love I'll sing thee then, When all the world is dreaming.

Meet me in the willow glen. When the silver moon is beaming, Songs of love I'll sing thee then, If you meet me in the willow glen.

No prying eye shall come love. No stranger foot be seen. And the busy village hum, love, Shall echo through the glen. Meet me, &c.

DRINK TO ME ONLY WITH THINE EYES.

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Sold by W. Marshall. Sold by T. Pierce, Southborough. (Cards Printed Cheap.)

Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine, Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine; The thirst that from my soul doth rise, Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sip, I would not change for thine.

The Mistletoe Bough

Printed by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Sold by Pierce, Southborough, Bennet, Brighton; and Sharman, Cambridge.

The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly branch shone on the old oak wall, The baron's retainers were blithe and gay, And keeping their Christmas holiday. The baron beheld with a father's pride, His beautiful child, young Lovell's bride: While she with her bright eyes, seemed to be The star of the goodly company. Oh! the mistletoe bough!

"I'm weary of dancing now," she cried! "Here tarry a moment--I'll hide--I'll hide, And, Lovell, be sure thou'rt the first to trace The clue to my secret lurking place." Away she ran--and her friends began Each tower to search, and each nook to scan; And young Lovell cried, "Oh! where dost thou hide? I'm lonesome without thee, my own dear bride." Oh! the mistletoe bough!

THE _Rose will Cease to Blow_.

Printed by J. Catnach, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Sold by T. Batchelor, 14, Hackney Road Crescent; W. Marshall, Bristol. Sold by Bennet and Boyes, Brighton.

The rose will cease to blow, The eagle turn a dove, The streams will cease to flow, Ere I will cease to love.

The sun shall cease to shine, The world shall cease to move, The stars their light resign, Ere I will cease to love.

I'M A TOUGH True Hearted Sailor.

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials, & at 14, Waterloo Road, (late Hill's). Country Shops, and Travellers supplied.

I'm a tough true-hearted sailor, Careless and all that, d'ye see, Never at the times a railer-- What is time or tide to me? All must die when fate must will it, Providence ordains it so;

Every bullet has its billet, Man the boat, boys--Yeo, heave, yeo!

Life's at best a sea of trouble, He who fears it is a dunce, Death, to me, an empty bubble, I can never die but once, Blood, if duty bids, I'll spill it, Yet I have a tear for woe,

Every bullet has its billet, &c.

WHEN BIBO THOUGHT FIT.

Printed and Sold by J. CATNACH, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials.

When Bibo thought fit from the world to retreat, As full of champagne as an egg's full of meat; He wak'd in the boat, and to Charon he said, He would be rowed back, for he was not yet dead. 'Trim the boat, and sit quiet,' stern Charon replied-- 'You may have forgot--you were drunk when you died!'

THE SUN That Lights the ROSES.

A. Ryle and Co., Printers, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, Seven Dials, and 35, Hanover Street, Portsea, where upwards of 4000 different sorts of ballads are continually on sale together with 40 new penny song books.

Tho' dimple cheeks may give delight Where rival beauties blossom; Th'o balmy lips to love invite, To extacy the bosom. Yet sweeter far yon summer sky, Whose blushing tints discloses, Give me the lustre beaming eye, The Sun that lights the Roses.

THE Woodpecker.

London:--Printed by J. Paul & Co., 2 & 3, Monmouth Court.

I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said if there's peace to be found it the world, A heart that is humble might hope for it here.

CHORUS.

Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound, But the woodpecker tapping in the hollow beech tree.

And here in this lone little wood, I exclaim'd, With a maid who was lovely to soul and to eye, Who would blush when I prais'd her, and weep if I blam'd, How blest could I live, and how calm could I die. Every leaf, &c.

YE Topers All.

London:--Published by Ryle and Paul, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials. Where an immense number of songs are always ready.

Ye topers all drink to the soul, Of this right honest fellow; Who always loved a flowing bowl, And would in death be mellow. The lamp of life be kindled up, With spirit stout and glowing; His heart inspired thus with a cup, Ascends where nectar's flowing.

Death of Nelson.

London:--Ryle & Co., Printers, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, Bloomsbury.

RECITATIVE.

O'er Nelson's tomb, with silent grief oppress'd Britannia mourns her hero now at rest. But these bright laurels ne'er shall fade with years, Whose leaves are water'd by a Nation's tears.

AIR.

'Twas in Trafalgar's bay, We saw the Frenchmen lay, Each heart was bounding then; We scorned the foreign yoke-- Our ships were British oak, And hearts of oak our men, Our Nelson mark'd them on the wave, Three cheers our gallant seamen gave, Nor thought of home or beauty; Along the line this signal ran-- "England expects that every man This day will do his duty!"

THE SCARLET FLOWER.

A. Ryle & Co., Printers, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, Bloomsbury.

She's gentle as the zephyr, That sips of every sweet, She fairer than the fairest lily, In nature's soft retreat; Her eyes are like the crystal brok, As bright and clear to see? Her lips outshine the Scarlet Flow'r Of bonny Ellerslie.

THE THORN.

London:--Printed at the "Catnach Press" by W. Fortey, (late A. Ryle) 2 & 3, Monmouth Court. Bloomsbury. (Established 1813.) The Oldest and Cheapest House in the World for Ballads, (4,000 sorts) Song Books, &c.

From the white blossomed sloe, My dear Chloe requested, A sprig her fair breast to adorn; No by heavens I exclaimed, may I perish If ever I plant in that bosom a thorn.

When I shewed her the ring and implored her to marry She blushed like the dawning of morn, Yes I'll consent she replyed if you'll promise, That no jealous rival shall laugh me to scorn, No by heavens I exclaim'd may I perish, If ever I plant in that bosom a thorn.

BANKS OF THE NILE.

Printed at the "Catnach Press" by W. FORTEY, Monmouth Court, Bloomsbury, the Oldest House in the World for Ballads (4,000 sorts) Song Books, &c. &c.

Hark! I hear the drums a beating--no longer can I stay, I hear the trumpets sounding, my love I must away, We are ordered from Portsmouth many a long mile, For to join the British soldiers on the banks of the Nile.

Willie, dearest Willie, don't leave me here to mourn, You'll make me curse and rue the day that ever I was born, For the parting of my own true love is parting of my life, So stay at home dear Willie, and I will be your wife.

I will cut off my yellow locks, and go along with you, I will dress myself in velveteens, and go see Egypt too I will fight or bear your banner, while kind fortune seems to smile, And we'll comfort one another on the banks of the Nile.

Poor Crazy JANE.