Part 12

London:--Printed at the "Catnach Press" by W. S. Fortey, 2 & 3, Monmouth Court, Bloomsbury. (Established 1813.) The Oldest and Cheapest House in the World for Ballads, Song Books, Children's Spelling & Reading Books, Panorama Slips, Almanacks, Valentines, Hymns, Toy Cards, Poetry Cards, Lotteries, Characters, Note Paper, Envelopes, &c. [Symbol: Asterism] Shopkeepers and Hawkers supplied on the lowest terms.

Why fair maid in every feature, Are such signs of fear expressed, Can a wandering wretched creature, With such horror fill thy breast. Do my frenzied looks alarm thee, Trust me, sweet, thy fears are vain, Not for Kingdom would I harm thee, Shun not then poor crazy Jane.

Fondly my young heart believed him, Which was doomed to love but one; He sighed, he vowed, and I believed him, He was false, and I'm undone. From that hour has reason never, Had her empire o'er my brain, Henry fled, with him for ever Fled the wits of Crazy Jane.

"It was Christmas morning--dear Christmas morning When bright angels and men kept watch for its dawning-- And merrily Christmas bells were out ringing, And blithely the children their carols were singing-- 'Twas a hundred years agone--or more."

From time immemorial the ballad singer, with his rough and ready broad-sheet, has travelled over the whole surface of the country in all seasons and weathers, yet there was one time of the year, however, when he went out of his every-day path and touched on deeper matters than accidents, politics, prize fights, sporting matches, murders, battles, royalty, famous men and women. Christmas time brought, both to him and his audience, its witness of the unity of the great family of heaven and earth, its story of the life and death of Him in whom that unity stands. Several examples, of Christmas carols and Scripture-sheets, bearing Catnach's imprint lie before us, thanks to the kindness of Mr. W. S. Fortey, Catnach's successor; these broadsides bear several distinctive marks which show that it was an object of more than ordinary care to publishers and ballad singers. In the first place, these Christmas sheets are double the size of the ordinary broad-sheet--measuring 30 inches by 20--and contain four or five carols--generally one long narrative ballad, and three or four short pieces. Each of them having two or three large woodcuts and several of smaller sizes, and having the following distinctive titles--The Trial of Christ. Faith, Hope, and Charity. Our Saviour's Love. The Tree of Life. The Crucifixion. The Saviour of Mankind. The Messiah. The Harp of Israel. The Saviour's Garland. Divine Mirth. And The Life of Joseph, to which is appended:--

LONDON: PRINTED AND SOLD BY J. CATNACH, 2, MONMOUTH COURT, 7, DIALS, WHERE MAY BE HAD THE FOLLOWING SHEETS, WITH CUTS.

The Last Day, Our Saviour's Letter, The Son of Righteousness, Travels of the Children of Israel, Glory of Solomon, The Morning Star, The Noble Army of Martyrs, Christmas Gambols, The Hertfordshire Tragedy, and a Variety of Others are in a state of forwardness for the Press.

"Looking at these Christmas broad-sheets," says the writer of an article on street-ballads, in the "National Review," for October, 1861, "it would really seem as if the poorest of our brethren claimed their right to higher nourishment than common for their minds and souls, as well as for their bodies, at the time of year when all Christendom should rejoice. And this first impression is confirmed when we examine their contents. In all those which we have seen, the only piece familiar to us is that noble old carol 'While shepherds watched their flocks by night,' where the rest come from, we cannot even conjecture; but in the whole of them there is not one which we should wish were not there. We have been unable to detect in them even a coarse expression; and of the hateful narrowness and intolerance, the namby-pamby, the meaningless cant, the undue familiarity with holy things, which makes us turn with a shudder from so many modern collections of hymns, there is simply nothing.

"Account for it how we will, there is the simple fact. Perhaps it may lead us to think somewhat differently of those whom we are in the habit of setting down in the mass as little better than heathens. We cannot conclude this article better than by giving an extract or two from these Christmas broad-sheets."

"The Saviour's Garland, a choice Collection of the most esteemed Carols," has the usual long narrative ballad, which begins:

"Come, all you faithful Christians That dwell upon the earth,-- Come celebrate the morning Of our dear Saviour's birth: This is the happy morning,-- This is the happy morn Whereon, to save our ruined race, The Son of God was born."

And after telling simply the well-known story, it ends:

"Now to him up ascended, Then let your praises be, That we His steps may follow, And He our pattern be; That when our lives are ended We may hear His blessed call: 'Come, Souls, receive the Kingdom Prepared for you all.'"

Another, "The Star of Bethlehem, a collection of esteemed Carols for the present year," opens its narrative thus:

"Let all that are to mirth inclined Consider well and bear in mind What our good God for us has done, In sending His beloved Son.

Let all our songs and praises be Unto His heavenly Majesty; And evermore amongst our mirth Remember Christ our Saviour's birth.

The twenty-fifth day of December We have great reason to remember; In Bethlehem, upon that morn, There was a blessed Saviour born," &c.

One of the short pieces, by no means the best, we give whole:

"With one consent let all the earth The praise of God proclaim, Who sent the Saviour, by whose birth To man salvation came.

All nations join and magnify The great and wondrous love Of Him who left for us the sky, And all the joys above.

But vainly thus in hymns of praise We bear a joyful part, If while our voices loud we raise, We lift not up our heart.

We, by a holy life alone, Our Saviour's laws fulfil; By those His glory is best shown Who best perform His will.

May we to all His words attend With humble, pious care; Then shall our praise to heaven ascend, And find acceptance there."

We do not suppose that the contents of these Christmas broad-sheets are supplied by the same persons who write the murder-ballads, or the attacks on crinoline. They may be borrowed from well known hymn books for anything we know. But if they are borrowed, we must still think it much to the credit of the selectors, that, where they might have found so much that is objectionable and offensive, they should have chosen as they have done. We only hope that their successors, whoever they may be who will become the caterers for their audiences, will set nothing worse before them.

Christmas broad-sheets formed an important item in the office of the "Catnach Press," as the sale was enormous, and Catnach always looked forward for a large return of capital, and a "good clearance" immediately following the spurt for Guy Fawkes' speeches, in October of each year. But although the sale was very large, it only occupies one "short month." This enabled them to make Carols a stock job, so that when trade in the Ballad, Sensational, "Gallows," or any other line of business was dull, they used to fill up every spare hour in the working off or colouring them, so as to be ready to meet the extraordinary demand which was sure to be made at the fall of the year.

Like most of the old English customs, Christmas-carol singing is fast dying out. Old peripatetic stationers well remember the rich harvest they once obtained at Christmas times by carol selling. Now there are very few who care to invest more than a shilling or two at a time on the venture; whereas in times long past, all available capital was readily embarked in the highly-coloured and plain sheets of the birth of our Saviour, with the carol of "Christians awake," or "The Seven Good Joys of Mary:"--

"The first good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of one, To see her own Son, Jesus, To suck at her breast-bone. To suck at her breast-bone, God-man, And blessed may He be Both Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, To all eternity."

Now, whether carol singing has degenerated with carol poetry, and consequently the sale of Christmas carols diminished is a question we need not enter upon; but when we turn to the fine old carols of our forefathers, we cannot help regretting that many of these are buried in the records of the long past.

Here are a couple of verses of one, said to be the first carol or drinking-song composed in England. The original is in Anglo-Norman French:--

"Lordlings, from a distant home, To seek old Christmas are we come, Who loves our minstrelsy-- And here unless report mis-say, The greybeard dwells; and on this day Keeps yearly wassail, ever gay With festive mirth and glee.

* * * * *

Lordlings, it is our host's command, And Christmas joins him hand in hand, To drain the brimming bowl; And I'll be foremost to obey, Then pledge we, sirs, and drink away, For Christmas revels here to day, And sways without control.

Now _wassail_ to you all! and merry may you be, And foul that wight befall, who drinks not health to me."

One can well imagine the hearty feeling which would greet a party of minstrels carolling out such a song as the above in Christmas days of yore; and then contrast the picture with a _troupe_ from St. Giles's or Whitechapel bawling out "God Rest you Merry Gentlemen!" The very thought of the contrast sends a shudder through the whole human system; and no wonder the first were received with welcome feasting, and the latter driven "with more kicks than half-pence" from the doors.

In an old book of "Christmasse Carolles newely emprinted at London, in the fletestrete at the sygne of the Sonne by Wynkyn de Worde. The yere of our Lorde, m.d.xxi. Quarto." Is a carol on "Bryngyng in the Bore's Head":--

"The bore's head in hand bring I, With garlandes gay and rosemary, I pray you all synge merely, _Qui estis in convivio_.

The bore's head, I understande Is the chiefe servyce in this lande, Loke wherever it be fande, _Servite cum Contico_.

Be gladde, lordes, both more and lasse, For this hath ordayned our stewarde, To chere you all this Christmasse The bore's head with mustarde."

With certain alterations, this carol is still, or at least was very recently, retained at Queen's College, Oxford, and sung to a cathedral chant of the psalms.

It would occupy too much space to search into the origin of Christmas carols. They are doubtless coeval with the original celebrations of Christmas, first as a strictly Romish sacred ceremony, and afterwards as one of joyous festivity.

This "Moral-Sheet" entitled "THE STAGES OF LIFE: or, The various Ages and Degrees of Human Life explained by these Twelve different Stages, from our Birth to our Graves," had a great sale.

INFANCY

_To 10 Years old._

"His vain delusive thoughts are fill'd With vain delusive joys-- The empty bubble of a dream, Which waking change to toys."

_From 10 to 20 Years old._

"His heart is now puff'd up, He scorns the tutor's hand; He hates to meet the least control And glories to command."

_From 20 to 30 Years old._

"There's naught here that can withstand The rage of his desire, His wanton flames are now blown up, His mind is all on fire."

_From 30 to 40 Years old._

"Look forward and repent Of all thy errors past, That so thereby thou may'st attain True happiness at last."

_From 40 to 50 Years old._

"At fifty years he is Like the declining sun, For now his better half of life, Man seemeth to have run."

_From 50 to 60 Years old._

"His wasted taper now Begins to lose its light, His sparkling flames doth plainly show 'Tis growing towards night."

_From 60 to 70 Years old._

"Perplex'd with slavish fear And unavailing woe, He travels on life's rugged way With locks as white as snow."

_From 70 to 80 Years old._

"Infirmity is great, At this advanced age, And ceaseless grief and weakness leagued, Now vent their bitter rage."

_From 80 to 90 Years old._

"Life's 'Vital Spark'--the soul, Is hovering on the verge Of an eternal world above, And waiting to emerge."

_From 90 to 100 Years old._

"The sun is sinking fast Behind the clouds of earth, Oh may it shine with brighter beams, Where light receiv'd her birth."

Catnach was now at the height of his fame as a printer of ballads, Christmas-pieces, carols, lotteries, execution papers, dying speeches, catchpennies, primers and battledores, and his stock of type and woodcuts had very considerably increased to meet his business demands. And it may be said that he was the very Napoleon of buyers at sales by auction of "printers' stock." On one occasion, when lot after lot was being knocked down to him, one of the "Littlejohn crew" of "knock-out-men" of the period, observed to the auctioneer, "Why, sir, Mr. Catnach is buying up all the lots." "Yes," replied the auctioneer, "And what's more, Mr. Catnach will pay for them and clear away all his lots in the morning;" then adding somewhat pointedly, "which is a thing I can't say of all parties who attend my sales."

But although we are informed, _vivâ voce_ of a contemporary, that Jemmy Catnach was so large a buyer at sales by auction of "printers' stock," we may, with some degree of safety, come to the conclusion that he could have only bought such lots that would be considered by other master printers as worthless, and that it was the apparent cheapness that would be the incentive for his buying up all the worn-out and battered letter, for Jemmy was a man who hated "innowations" as he used to call improvements, and he, therefore, had a great horror in laying out his money in new and improved manufactured type, because, as he observed, he kept so many standing forms, and when certain sorts ran short he was not particular, and would tell the boys to use anything which would make a good shift. For instance, he never considered a compositor could be aground for a lowercase "l" while he had a figure "1" or a cap "I" to fall back upon; by the same rule, the cap. "O" and figure "0" were synonymous with "Jemmy;" the lowercase "p," "b," "d," and "q," would all do duty for each other in _turn_, and if they could not always find Roman letters to finish a word with, why the compositor knew very well that the "reader" would not mark out Ita_lic_, nor wrong founts.

From a small beginner in the world, Catnach was soon able to see his way clear to amass a fortune. He had now established his reputation as a man of enterprise, and he was very sensitive to maintain a sort of shabby-genteel appearance. It was amusing, especially when over his glass, to hear him describe the effect the "awfuls" had on the public. The proprietor of any of our leading journals could not have felt prouder than did Catnach, as he saw drafted from his press the many thousands of varied productions.

We will now briefly allude to the wood-blocks which Catnach had in his possession, and which served for the purpose of illustrating during the time that he had been in business. He had a large collection, such as they were; but as works of art they had little or no pretension, being, upon the whole, of the oddest and most ludicrous character. Those that were intended for the small books were very quaint--as we have shown by the fac-similed specimens we have given--whilst the larger portion, which were chiefly intended for the "awfuls," were grotesque and hideous in their design and execution. No more ghastly sight could be imagined than one of Jemmy's embellishments of an execution. It would appear that for the last discharge of the law he had a large collection of blocks which would suit any number of victims who were about to undergo the dread penalty. It mattered little how many Jack Ketch was going to operate upon, wood-blocks to the exact number were always adopted, in this particular the great "Dying Speech Merchant" would seem to have thought that his honour and reputation were at stake, for he had his network so formed as to be able to secure every information of news that was passing between the friends of the culprits and the prerogative of the Crown. But we are informed that upon one occasion he was nearly entrapped. Three victims were upon the eve of being executed, and in those days--and in later times--it was not an uncommon thing to see the confession and dying speech printed one or two days previous to the event. This we are told by those in the trade was almost necessary, in order that the sheets might be ready for the provinces almost as soon as the sentence of the law had been carried out. It so happened that on the night previous to an execution, one of the culprits was reprieved. It was solely by a piece of good luck that Catnach heard of it. Several sheets had been struck off; and Jemmy was often chaffed about hanging three men instead of two; but our informant assures us that the error was corrected before any of the impressions were dispatched from the office. Had they gone before the public in their original state, the _locus standi_ of the great publisher in Monmouth Court would have been greatly imperilled. To those who are fond of the fine arts, _in usum vulgi_, Catnach's embellishments will afford a fund of amusement. Amongst the lot were several well known places, the scenes of horrible and awful crimes, engravings of debauchery and ill-fame, together with an endless number of different kinds, suitable at the shortest possible notice, to illustrate every conceivable and inconceivable subject.

The Seven Dials in general, and "The Catnach Press" in particular, had no dread of copyright law--the principal Librarian of the British Museum, Stationers', or any other Hall in those days--and as wood engravings were not to be had then so quickly or cheaply as now-a-days, Jemmy used at times to be his own engraver, and while the compositors were setting up the types, he would carve out the illustration on the back of an old pewter music plate, and by nailing it on to a piece of wood make it into an improvised stereo-plate off-hand, for he was very handy at this sort of work, at which also his sister, with his instruction, could assist; so they soon managed to rough out a figure or two, and when things were dull and slack they generally got one or two subjects ready in stock, such as a highwayman with crape over his face, shooting a traveller, who is falling from his horse near a wide-spreading old elm tree, through which the moon was to be seen peeping; not forgetting to put the highwayman in top boots and making him a regular dandy. This was something after the plan of the artists of the cheap illustrated papers of the present day, who generally anticipate events sometime beforehand to be ready with their blocks. As a proof of this, the editor of the "London, Provincial, and Colonial Press News," says "I happened to call one day on an artist for the 'Illustrated Press,' and found him busily engaged in sketching a funeral procession with some twenty coffins borne on the shoulders of men who were winding their way through an immense crowd. Upon inquiry, I was told that it was intended for the next week's issue, and was to represent the funeral of the victims of the late dreadful colliery explosion, for although the inquest was only then sitting, and all the bodies had not yet been found, there was sure to be a funeral of that kind when it was all over, and as they did not know how many bodies were to be buried at one time, it was very cleverly arranged to commence the procession from the _corner of the block_, and so leave it to the imagination as to how many more coffins were coming in the rear; something after the plan of a small country theatre, when representing Richard the Third, and in the battle scene, after the first two or three of the army had made their appearance, to cry 'halt!' very loudly to all those behind who were not seen, and leave the spectators to guess how many hundreds their were to come."

For the illustrating of catchpennies, broadsides, and street-literature in general, particular kinds of wood-cuts were required. In most cases one block was called upon to perform many parts; and the majority of metropolitan printers, who went in for this work, had only a very limited number of them. Very often the same cuts were repeated over and over again, and made to change sides as one another, and that simply to make a little variation from a ballad or broadside that had been printed at the same office on the day, week, or month previous. It mattered little what the subject was, it required some adornment, in the shape of illustration, to give effect to it. The catchpennies, especially those connected with the awful, were in general very rough productions. A lover strangling his sweetheart with a long piece of rope. A heartless woman murdering an innocent man. Vice punished and virtue rewarded, and similar subjects, were always handled in such a manner as to create a degree of excitement, sympathy, and alarm. The broadsides, generally adorned with some rough outline of the royal arms of England, a crowned king or queen, as the subject might be, received their full share of consideration at the hands of the artist. Scions of royal blood, and those connected with the court, were often painted in colours glaring and attractive, whilst the matter set forth in the letterpress was not always the most flattering or encouraging.

CATCH-PENNY:--Any temporary contrivance to obtain money from the public; penny shows, or cheap exhibitions. Also descriptions of murders, fires, and terrible accidents, &c., which have never taken place.

Hotton's: _Slang Dictionary_.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE DREADFUL APPARITION

That appeared last night to Henry ---- in this street, of Mary ----, the shopkeeper's daughter round the corner, in a shroud, all covered in white.

The castle clock struck one--the night was dark, drear, and tempestuous.--Henry sat in an antique chamber of it, over a wood fire, which in the stupor of contemplation, he had suffered to decrease into a few lifeless embers; on the table by him lay the portrait of Mary--the features of which were not very perfectly disclosed by a taper, that just glimmered in the socket. He took up the portrait, however, and gazing intensely upon it, till the taper, suddenly burning brighter, discovered to him a phenomenon he was not less terrified than surprised at.--The eyes of the portrait moved;--the features from an angelic smile, changed to a look of solemn sadness; a tear stole down each cheek, and the bosom palpitated as with sighing.