Part 2
At this time we had a near relative occupying chambers in Barnard's Inn, which we held to be a good central and lawyer-like address--one that had the "true ring," of business and substantiality about it. Yes! Barnard's Inn, Holborn, London, E.C., looked to our mind to be likely to serve our stratigical purpose to the point we desired. Having made all the preparatory arrangements, we then procured from a neighbouring stationer's shop a sheet of mourning note-paper and an envelope of large proportions, each having the very blackest and broadest of black borders we could find in stock. Then we wrote in a law-like hand:--
_No. 6, Barnard's Inn, Holborn, London, E.C., February 26, 1870._
_THIS IS TO GIVE NOTICE:--If Mr. John Morgan, ballad-writer, &c., will call at the above address on or after Wednesday next. He will hear something greatly to his advantage._
_(Signed)_ [Signature: Charles Hindley.]
_Mr. John Morgan, care of............ ..............London._
The above document having been duly intrusted to Her Majesty's Post Master General for delivery, we had to abide our time for the result. We had not to wait long, for although we had appointed the next following Wednesday to communicate "_something greatly to the advantage of Mr. John Morgan_," he turned up a little sooner than we expected, or desired, by reason of his putting in an appearance at Barnard's Inn on Tuesday evening, where he arrived "happy and glorious," and made earnest enquiries for "the gentleman who had sent him a letter to say he had got a something to his advantage--perhaps a fortune! For sometimes he thought somebody would die and leave him one. Where was the gentleman who wrote him the letter? He says that I am to call here. He sent it in a black-bordered envelope for him. Where is the gentleman? See here is the letter, and all in black--black as your hat--look for yourself, sir."
All the above was spoken to a friend of ours who lived on the ground-floor at the particular house in Barnard's Inn, where Mr. John Morgan had been requested to call on Wednesday. It was then only Tuesday, and that fact had to be explained; also, that the gentleman in question was not at present in his chambers on the third-floor, but would be in the morning up to 10 o'clock. Our friend on the first-floor--who had received instructions from us in the event of Mr. John Morgan turning-up while we were not at home--informed us of all that had taken place when we arrived a little later on in the evening.
On the next morning preparations were made for the reception of our expectant friend--a good fire, a good breakfast, and a half-pint of "Old Tom" from Carr's well-known Establishment, St. Clement Danes, Strand.
Very soon after the old clock of the ancient hall of Barnard's Inn, and all the public clocks in the surrounding neighbourhood had proclaimed aloud that the hour of 10 a.m. of that Wednesday morning had arrived, there was heard a knock at the outer door of our chamber-rooms, and on the same being opened, Mr. John Morgan announced himself as the party to whom the gentleman had sent a black-bordered letter and envelope for him to say there was a something to his advantage to be had. Then Mr. John Morgan, full of bows and scrapes, was ushered into our presence.--He was the party who had received the letter. Oh! yes, Mr. Morgan we added: take a seat sir. Yes, sir, and thank you to, he replied, at the same time sitting down and then very carefully despositing his somewhat delapidated hat under--far under--the chair. We then enquired whether he would have anything to eat, or have a cup of coffee. No! it was a little too early in the morning for eating, and coffee did not always agree with him. Or, a drop of good "Old Tom," we somewhat significantly suggested. Mr. John Morgan would very much like to have a little drop of gin, for it was a nasty raw cold morning: In answer to our enquiry whether he would prefer hot or cold water, elected to have it neat if it made no difference to us.
Mr. John Morgan at our suggestion having "wet the other eye," _i.e._, taken the second glass, the real business part of the question we had met upon commenced thus:--"We have been informed that you were acquainted with, and used to write for the late James Catnach, who formerly lived in the Seven Dials, and that you can give us much of the information that we require towards perfecting a work we have in hand treating on Street Literature. If you are willing to do so, we are prepared to treat with you in a liberal manner, and that, please to at once to understand is the '_Something greatly to your advantage_ that is mentioned in the note we addressed to you.'" Here Mr. John Morgan hinted that he thought it was--or he had hoped it was, a little fortune some one had been kind enough to leave him, he always expected that old Jemmy Catnach would--after what he had done for him, have left him a bit, however small, but no such luck.
Mr. Morgan expressed his willingness to give all the information he could on the subject and leave it to our generosity to pay him what we pleased, and adding that he had no doubt that we should not fall out on that score. And so we proceeded, we talked and took notes. Mr. Morgan talked and took gin. Mr. Morgan got warm--warmer and warmer--and very entertaining, his conversational powers increased wonderfully, he became very witty and laughed _ha! hah!!_ he joked and made merry at some old reminiscences in connection with old Jemmy Catnach--and admitted, that after all old Jemmy wasn't a particular bad sort--that is, when you knew him, and could handle him properly--then old Jemmy was as right as my leg! Still we continued to talk and take notes, still Mr. Morgan talked and took gin, until he emulated the little old woman who sold "Hot Codlings," for of her it is related that--"the glass she filled and the bottle she shrunk and that this little old woman in the end got----."
At length it became very manifest that we should not be able to get any more information out of Mr. John Morgan on that day, so proposed for him to call again on the morrow morning and at the same time and place to pursue the thread of our narrative. Then having presented him with a portrait of Her most gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, set in gold, we volunteered to see him down stairs which we observed were very crooked--Mr. Morgan thought they were very old and funny ones: up and down like--in fact what old Charley Dibdin would have called regular "whopping old stairs!" Being safely landed from the last stone step on to the stone-paved way, we thought it advisable, for appearance sake, to conduct our friend out of Barnard's Inn by a sideway leading into Fetter-lane. After that it occurred to us that it would perhaps be better to see him to the Fleet-street end of the lane and then to put him into a Westminster omnibus, but we had reached Somerset House before one going that way came in sight. Then it was Mr. John Morgan suddenly recollected that he could not pass his old friend Short--who was Short? why surely you know Short--old Short, him as sells the wine so good and so cheap, there over the way--that's Short's--"WINES FROM THE WOOD," that's out of the cask you know, you remind me to-morrow, sir, and I'll tell you a good tale about old Short before he made such a lot of money as he has got now.--Capital chap old Short, he knows me--it's all about a song I wrote--but I'll tell you all about it to-morrow. Besides I must have change ye know for there's no one got any at my home--my landlord--There's no change about him, Oh! dear no--He's never got any change but he's always got an old account, do you see? an old account--but no matter let's go in!
Respectfully, but firmly declining the kind and very pressing invitation to have "only just one drop with old Short." We left Mr. John Morgan to take care of himself for the day and to be sure to meet us on the next morning in Barnard's Inn at 10 o'clock--sharp.
At length the wishful morrow came, also ten of the clock, but not so Mr. John Morgan, nor did he call at any hour during the day. But soon after 11 o'clock the next day he made his appearance, but being so stupidly drunk we gave him some money and told him to call again to-morrow. And he did, but still so muddled that we could make nothing out of him, so we somewhat curtly dismissed him and returned to Brighton.
The next day the letter--of which we give a _verbatim et literatim_ copy--was received and then forwarded on to us.
90 Great Peter Street Westminister, S.W.
Saturday the 5th of March 1870.
My Dear and Kind Sir:--I return you my most sincere and heartfelt thanks for the Kindness I received from you and deeply I regret if I caused you any displeasure the fact is I have been greatly put about And you having been so kind as to give me refreshments it overpowered me I fell and hurt myself. And I am now destitute without a penny in the world or a friend to help me. I feel as though I offended you I hope not I think by the Little conversation we had I may be able to please you I have been considering in my doleful moments matters of importance if my kind and good friend you can favour me with a Line this Saturday Evening I will be most grateful I shall not go out waiting to hear from you I am placed in a most Sad position accept my thanks write Me a Line in answer to this Befriend me if it is possible And I will make all right and with gratitude,
Anxiously waiting your kind and I trust favourable reply.
[Signature: Your Hum{ble} Servt John Morgan]
Charles Hindley, Esq 6 Barnard's Inn Holborn W.C.
Having no desire to incur the expense of another journey to London in the matter, and believing that we had obtained sufficient information on the subject, we published, in the year 1871, a limited number of copies of our work under the title of:--
CURIOSITIES OF STREET LITERATURE: COMPRISING "COCKS," OR "CATCHPENNIES," A Large and Curious Assortment of STREET DROLLERIES, SQUIBS, HISTORIES, COMIC STORIES IN PROSE AND VERSE,
BROADSIDES ON THE ROYAL FAMILY,
POLITICAL LITANIES, DIALOGUES, CATECHISMS, ACTS OF PARLIAMENT, STREET POLITICAL PAPERS.
A VARIETY OF "BALLADS ON A SUBJECT," _DYING SPEECHES AND CONFESSIONS_, TO WHICH IS ATTACHED THE ALL-IMPORTANT AND NECESSARY AFFECTIONATE COPY OF VERSES, AS
"Come, all you feeling-hearted Christians, wherever you may be, Attention give to these few lines, and listen unto me; It's of this cruel murder, to you I will unfold, The bare recital of the same will make your blood run cold."
"What hast here? ballads? I love a ballad in print, or a life; for then we are sure they are true."--_Shakespeare._
"There's nothing beats a stunning good murder, after all."--_Experiences of a Running Patterer._
LONDON: REEVES AND TURNER 196, STRAND, 1871.
CURIOSITIES OF STREET LITERATURE.
Guaranteed only Four Hundred and Fifty Six Copies Printed,
NAMELY,--
£ s. d.
250 on Fine Toned Demy 4to Published at 1 1 0 100 on Large Post 4to, printed on one side of the paper only " 1 5 0 100 on Fine French Linear Writing Paper, printed on one side only, and in imitation of the Catnachian tea-like paper of old " 1 11 6 6 on Yellow Demy 4to paper " 2 2 0 --- 456
[Symbol: Pointing hand] EACH COPY OF EACH EDITION NUMBERED.
Our work on the Curiosities of Street Literature soon ran out of print. But we continued to gather from time to time fresh information on the subject of the "Two Catnachs--John and James," and in the early part of 1876 we determined on publishing a work, to be entitled "The Life and Times of James Catnach--late of Seven Dials--Ballad Monger." And for the purpose of obtaining the verification, amendment, or denial to the several scraps of information we had obtained, we wrote to our old friend, Mr. John Morgan, on the subject, and from him we received the letters that follow:--
No. 1, Model Cottages, Little St. Anne's Lane, Great Peter Street, Westminster, London, S.W.
_16th February, 1876._
Sir,
I received your Letter this Morning: I have removed to above address two years and seven months, I have been in Bed seven weeks suffering from Bronchitis; but am now recovering and shall get up to-day, but the Doctor will not permit me to go out.
Whatever you may require I am ready and willing to do to the utmost of my abilities, and be happy to serve you, and much regret I have not the strength to venture to ---- Street. If anything can be done by Letter or otherwise, I will willingly attend to your request, your reply will greatly oblige,
[Signature: Your Hum{ble} Servt John Morgan]
P.S.--Please excuse the illegible scribble as I write this in Bed.
Charles Hindley, Esq., 76, Rose Hill Terrace, Brighton.
No. 1, Model Cottages, Little St. Ann's Lane, Great Peter Street, Westminster, London, S.W.
_17th February, 1876._
Sir,
I have just received yours, 7 p.m., and in reply I beg to say that when I came to London in 1818 Catnach's Father was not living.
Catnach, his Mother, and Sister Julia the youngest, resided at 2, Monmouth Court, the old woman and Julia worked at a small hand press--I joined him about 1818--his father died before.--I understood Julia went astray--the Mother Died about 1826. Anne Ryle was the widow of an Officer: a Waterloo man--with one child--had a pension.
Catnach had but little type, and no stock to speak of: he had a Sister at Portsea the wife of a mate of a ship in harbour, and kept a song-shop. His Mother lived with him 7 or 8 years.--I understand about the "Horses-heads." Cox and Kean, I forget except the title and chorus:--
COX _versus_ KEAN; OR LITTLE BREECHES.
"With his ginger tail he did assail, and did the prize obtain, This Merry Little Wanton Bantam Cock of Drury Lane-- LITTLE BREECHES."
Ann Stanton was tried for cutting the Cock's Head off there was no verses.
As regards the Sausages, Catnach printed a few lines on a quarter-sheet, that caused a great uproar, he was taken to Bow Street. Catnach had six months. There was no verses, it was quickly done. He printed the life of Mother Cummins, of Dyot Street--now, George Street, and that was knocked into "pye" in quick sticks. There was a change after he went to Alnwick in Northumberland, where he carried a small press and printed the state of the poll every day, while there he took up his freedom.[2] He came home and printed "Cubitt's Treadmill":--
"And we're all treading, tread, tread, treading, And we're all treading at fam'd Brixton Mill."
and kept going forward--retired and went to Barnet, left the business to James Paul and Ann Ryle. That is many years ago. I seldom go near the Seven Dials, perhaps once in 3, 4, 5, or six months. I remember many occurrances but 56 years is a long time, I have just entered my 77th year. Anything you require as far as I can I will send and remain,
[Signature: Your Hum{ble} Servt John Morgan]
Charles Hindley, Esq., 76, Rose Hill Terrace, Brighton.
1 Model Cottages, Little Ann's Lane, Great Peter Street, Westminster, London, S.W.
_29th February, 1876._
Dear Sir:--
If I was to go back and think of passing events it would fill a volume. First in 1820--Catnach then being very poor--at the death of George the third, and the Duke of Kent he printed an Elegy:
"Mourn, Britons mourn! Your sons deplore, Our royal Sovereign is now no more."
Then comes the election for Westminster: Burdett, Hobhouse, and Lamb. He had a song:--
"Oh, Cammy Hobby is the man, And so is daddy Sir Franky, O; The Hon. W. Lamb is going mad And kicking like a donkey, O." "Oh, the naughty Lamb-- The miserable sinner, O We'll have him roast and boil'd And cut him up for dinner, O."
During the whole time of the election party spirit ran very high. A real lamb's head with a real rat in its mouth, was stuck upon the top of a pole. From the rat's tail hung a cock's comb. On the lamb's head was placed a lawyer's wig, surmounted with a fool's cap. On a board immediately below the head, was inscribed in front--"Behold the ratting lamb, with a cock's comb at his tail." On the other side, the inscription was--
"If silly lambs will go ratting, 'Tis fit they get this sort of batting."[3]
Then came The Dog's Meat Man-Founded on fact:--
In Gray's Inn Lane, not long ago. An old maid lived a life of woe; She was fifty-three, with a face like tan, When she fell in love with a dogs'-meat man. Much she loved this dogs'-meat man, He was a good-looking dogs'-meat man; Her roses and lilies were turn'd to tan, When she fell in love wi' the dogs'-meat man.
Every morning when he went by, Whether the weather was wet or dry, And right opposite her door he'd stand, And cry "dogs'-meat," did this dogs'-meat man. Then her cat would run out to the dogs'-meat man, And rub against the barrow of the dogs'-meat man, As right opposite to her door he'd stand, And cry "Dogs' Meat," did this dogs'-meat man.
He said his customers, good lord! Owed him a matter of two pound odd; And she replied, it was quite scan- Dalous to cheat such a dogs'-meat man. "If I had but the money," says the dogs'-meat man, "I'd open a tripe-shop," says the dogs'-meat man, "And I'd marry you to-morrow."--She admired the plan, And she lent a _five-pound note_ to the dogs'-meat man.
He pocketed the money and went away, She waited for him all next day, But he never com'd; and then she began To think she was diddled by the dogs'-meat man; She went to seek this dogs'-meat man, But she couldn't find the dogs'-meat man; Some friend gave her to understan' He'd got a wife and seven children--this dogs'-meat man.
Mother Cummins lived and kept Brothels in Dyot Street, Bloomsbury Square, after, and still called George Street, named after the Prince Regent George 4th, at that time "Beggar's Opera" where the Prince and nobles resorted was at the Rose and Crown, Church Lane, St. Giles. Catnach printed her life. In the Beggar's Opera, were assembled matchmakers, beggars, prigs and all the lowest of the low. There was old black Billy Waters, with his wooden leg, dancing and playing his fiddle, and singing:--
Polly will you marry me--Polly don't you cry, Polly come to bed with me; and get a little boy.
some were dipping matches, some boiling potatoes and salt herrings, some swearing, some dancing--all manners of fun, _&c._
Then comes Queen Caroline's trial; Catnach gets out a song:--
As I walked down the Greenwich-road one evening in June, I never saw so fine a sight as on that afternoon. I never saw so fine a sight, or, one half so good, As for to see Queen Caroline supported by a Wood. That Wood shall never be cut down, but stand for ever more; And he'll protect our innocent Queen Sweet Caroline on our shore.
which was followed by a skit on George IVth called:--
"THE GREAT BABE IN A MESS."
then another on Queen Caroline's _crin con_ case with Bergami who couldn't _remember_ nothing at all.
"BERGAMI, THE _Non mi recordo_."
Who are you? "_Non mi recordo._"
What countryman are you--a foreigner or an Englishman? "_Non mi recordo._"
There was something fresh everyday until the end of the Trial. Catnach then prints some "papers" belonging to J. Pitts, Printer, Gt. Saint Andrew-street, which causes a flare-up and a bother.
Then comes the sheet of "Horses Heads" which heads were like Eldon, Peel, Canning, &c. Just before they were out Mr. Rockcliff, a Printer in Old Gravel Lane, Radcliff-Highway sends for me--there was bottles of whisky. Rockcliff had engaged with a man called Oliver Cromwell to get him one of the first sheets printed off Catnach's press of the "Horses Heads" and he would give him half-a-crown. Rockcliff then requested me to bring him the first sheet of "Horses Heads" and get the half-a-crown. I went and got the sheet and meets Oliver Cromwell going into Catnach's as I came out, so I got the half-a-crown. Rockcliff copies the sheet, then engaged with Lowe the Printer in Compton-street to supply all the West-end. So it went on and made plenty of bother between them.
Catnach got on like a house on fire printing Religious Sheets, then came the murder of William Weare Esq. by John Thurtell, Hunt and Probert. I remember all that affair well,--Then the execution of Thurtell. A twelve-month after Probert was hanged for horsestealing. Then came the trial of Henry Fauntleroy a banker in Berner's Street Oxford Street executed for forgery. Then came Corder and Maria Marten and the Red Barn, so that is the way Catnach got on from a poor man to be a gentleman. There is many little things I may think of but close for the present and remain:--
[Signature: Your Hum{ble} Servt John Morgan]
1, Model Cottages, Little St. Ann's Lane, Great Peter Street, Westminster, London. _17th March, 1876._
Sir,
I received yours. My recollection is not so good as I would wish.
I think to the best of my recollection in 1819 there were some old men who had been forty-years in the streets at that time, their names were old Jack Smith, Tom Caton, old Jack Rush, Tom Anderson and a few others. When they wanted anything they made up fresh reports, and things were done without the least hesitation. As respects Mr. Pizzy the Pork Butcher, it was some of these men that went to Blackman Street, Clare Market, and created an uproar about the sausages, crowds assembled, and windows were broken, they were charged with rioting and taken to Bow Street, before--as they told me, Sir Richard Burnie, and I think Mr. Minshull. Catnach was sent to Clerkenwell for trial, and was afterwards sentenced to six months, and he served the full time. Then there was the trial of the four poor Irishmen for coining, in the first year of the mayorality of the late Sir Matthew Wood, and a lot of other things which I think would answer the purpose.
About twenty-six years ago Henry Mayhew sent for me, and he began a work something like yours, but by some means it stopped. There is matters that would help to fill up a Book without going to much expense.
[Signature: Your Hum{ble} Servt John Morgan]
Charles Hindley, Esq., 76, Rose Hill Terrace, Brighton.