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

Thomas Morely, a musical composer, set music of four, six, eight and ten parts, to the cries in his time, among them are some used by the milliners’ girls in the New Exchange, which was on the south side of the Strand, opposite the now Adelphi Theatre, it was built in the reign of James I., and pulled down towards the end of the last century; among others are “Italian falling Bands,” “French Garters,” “Robatos,” a kind of ruff then fashionable, “Nun’s Thread,” &c.

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

In a Roxburghe Ballad entitled “The Batchelor’s Feast,” &c., we have:—

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

In “Loyal Subject,” by Beaumont and Fletcher, act iii., sc. 5, we find that in the reign of James I., potatoes had become so common, that “Potatoes! ripe Potatoes!” were publicly hawked about the city.

Potatoes! ripe Potatoes.

Orlando Gibbons,—1583-1625—set music in madrigals to several common cries of the day. In a play called “Tarquin and Lucrece,” some of the music of the following occur,—“Rock Samphire,” “A Marking Stone,” “Bread and Meat for the poor Prisoners,” “Hassock for your pew,” “Lanthorne and Candlelight,” &c.

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

1. Lanthorne and a whole candell light: hang out your lights heare!
2. I have fresh cheese and creame.
3. Buy a brush or a table book.
4. Fine oranges, fine lemons.
5. Ells or yeards: buy yeard or ells.
6. I have ripe straw-buryes, ripe straw-buryes.
7. I have screenes, if you desier to keepe y^r butey from y^e fire.
8. Codlinges hot, hot codlinges.
9. Buy a steele or a tinder box.
10. Quicke peravinkells, quicke, quicke.
11. Worke for a cooper; worke for a cooper.
12. Bandestringes, or handkercher buttons.
13. A tanker bearer.
14. Macarell new: maca-rell.
15. Buy a hone, or a whetstone, or a marking stone.
16. White unions, white St. Thomas unions.
17. Mate for a bed, buy a doore mate.
18. Radishes or lettis, two bunches a penny.
19. Have you any work for a tinker?
20. Buy my hartichokes, mistris.
21. Maribones, maides, maribones.
22. I ha’ ripe cowcumber, ripe cowcumber.
23. Chimney sweepe.
24. New flounders new.
25. Some broken breade and meate for y^e poore prisoners; for the Lord’s sake pittey the poore.
26. Buy my dish of great smelts.
27. Have you any chaires to mend?
28. Buy a cocke, or a gelding.
29. Old showes or bootes; will you buy some broome?
30. Mussels, lilly white mussels.
31. Small cole a penny a peake.
32. What kitchen stuff have you, maides?

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

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

The second act opens with “The Fair. A number of Booths, Stalls, &c., set out.” The characters presented are “Lanthorn Leatherhead,” a hobby-horse seller. “Bartholomew Cokes,” an esquire of Harrow. “Nightingale,” a ballad-singer, a costard-monger, mousetrap-man, corn cutter. “Joan Trash,” a gingerbread woman. “Leatherhead” calls—“What do you lack? what is’t you buy? what do you lack? rattles, drums, halberts, horses, babies o’ the best? fiddles o’ the finest.” “Joan Trash” cries, “Buy my gingerbread, gilt gingerbread!” the costard-monger, bawls out, “Buy any pears, pears, fine, very fine pears!” “Nightingale,” the ballad man sings—

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

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

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

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

From “Meligmata: Musical Phantasies, fitting the Court, City, and Country Manners, to three, four and five Voices”—

“London, printed by William Stansby, for Thos. Adams, 1611,” we take as follows:—

“Cittie Rounds.

Some of the “Common Cryes i’ th’ City,” as Oysters, Codlings, Kitchen-stuff, Matches for your Tinder-box, &c., are enumerated in Richard Brome’s—The “Court Beggar, A Comedie acted at the Cock-pit, by His Majesties Servants, Anno 1632.”

“The London Chanticleers, a witty Comedy full of Various and Delightful Mirth,” 1659. This piece is rather an interlude than a play, and is amusing and curious, the characters being, with two exceptions, all London criers. The allusions to old usages, with the mention of many well known ballads, and some known no longer, contribute to give the piece an interest and a value of its own.

The principal dramatis personæ consists of:—

The Sorrowful Lamentations
of the
Pedlars and Petty Chapmen,

For the Hardness of the Times and the Decay of Trade.

To the Tune of “My Life and my Death.”

“Printed for J. Back, at the Black-boy, on London Bridge.”

In “Merry Drollery Complete, or, a Collection of Jovial Poems, Merry Songs, Witty Drolleries, Intermixed with Pleasant Catches, London, Printed for William Miller, at the Gilded Acorn, in St. Paul’s Church-yard, 1661,” the Catch which follows will be found. The Rev. J. Woodfall Ebsworth, M.A., Cantab, who has carefully edited and reprinted [1875] “Both Parts”; says in his Appendix of Notes:—“Hare-skin and Rabbit-skin collectors, have always been queer characters. This catch is by John Fletcher, in his ‘Beggar’s Bush,’ act iii., sc. 1, where it is sung by ‘Clause’ his boy. Clause, the vagabond beggar, was a popular favourite, reproduced in ‘Drolls.’ We see him represented in the frontispiece of The Wits, by Kirkman and Cox.”

A Catch.

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

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

The Cunning Northern Beggar.

To the Tune of Tom of Bedlam.

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

“The Song of the Pedlars.

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

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

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

“The Common Cries of London Town:
Some go up street, some go down.

With Turner’s Dish of Stuff, or a Gallymaufery.

To the tune of Wotton Towns End.”

THE SECOND PART.

To the same Tune.