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Musa Pedestris THREE CENTURIES OF CANTING SONGS AND SLANG RHYMES [1536-1896]
COLLECTED AND ANNOTATED BY JOHN S. FARMER
CONTENTS
Index to Titles
Index to Authors
Forewords
Notes
Appendix
"A beggar I'll be" (Anon—1660) "A Gage of Ben Rom-Bouse" (Middleton and Dekker—1611) "A Hundred Stretches Hence" (G. W. Matsell—1859) 'Arry at a Political Picnic (T. Milliken—1884) Beggar's Curse, The (Thomas Dekker—1608) "Bing Out, Bien Morts" (Thomas Dekker—1612) Black Procession, The (Anon—1712) Blooming AEsthetic (Anon—1882) Bobby and His Mary (Anon—1826) Bould Yeoman, The (Pierce Egan—1842) Bridle-cull and his little Pop-gun (Pierce Egan—1842) Budg and Snudg Song, A (Anon—1676) Banter's Christening, The (G. Parker—1789) By-blow of the Jug, The (Pierce Egan—1842) Cadger's Ball, The (Anon—1852) Canter's Serenade, The (Anon—1725) Chickaleary Cove, The (Vance—1864) "Come all you Buffers Gay" (Anon—1760) Coster's Serenade, The (A. Chevalier—1894) Culture in the Slums (W. E. Henley—1887) Dashy Splashy . . . little Stringer, The (Leman Rede—1841) "Dear-Bill—This Stone Jug" (Anon—1857) Double Cross, The (W. H. Ainsworth—1834) Faker's New Toast, The (Bon Gualtier—1841) Flashey Joe (R. Morley—1826) Flashman of St. Giles, The (Anon—1790) Frisky Moll's Song (J. Harper—1724) Game of High Toby, The (W. H. Ainsworth—1834) Happy Pair, The (G. Parker—1789) High Pad's Boast, The (J. Fletcher—1625) High Pad's Frolic, The (Leman Rede—1841) Housebreaker's Song, The (G. W. M. Reynolds—1838) Jack Flashman (Pierce Egan—1842) Lag's Lament, The (H. T. R.—1829) Leary Man, The (Ducange Anglicus—185?) Leary Mot, A (Anon—1811) Masqueraders, The (G. Parker—1789) Maunder's Initiation, The (J. Fletcher—1625) Maunder's Praise of his Strowling Mort, The (Anon—1707) Maunder's Wooing, The (S. Rowlands—1610) Merry Beggars, The (R. Brome—1641) Milling Match, The (T. Moore—1819) Miss Dolly Trull (Pierce Egan—1842) Mort's Drinking Song, A (R. Brome—1641) My Mother (Bon Gualtier—1841) My mugging maid (J. Bruton—1826) "Nix my Doll, Pals, Fake Away" (W. Harrison Ainsworth—1834) Nutty Blowen, The (Bon Gualtier—1841) Oath of the Canting Crew, The (R. Goadby—1749) On the Prigging Lay (H. T. R.—1829) Our Little Nipper (A. Chevalier—1893) Pickpocket's Chaunt, The (W. Maginn—1829) Plank-bed Ballad, A (G. R. Sims—1888) Poor Luddy (T. Dibdin—1826) Potato Man, The (Anon—1775) "Retoure my dear Dell" (Anon—1725) Rhyme of the Rusher (Doss Chiderdoss—1892) Rhymes of the Canting Crew (R. Copland—1536) Rondeau of the Knock, The (G. R. Sims—1890) "Rum Coves that Relieve Us" (H. Baumann—1887) Rum-Mort's Praise of her Faithless Maunder, The (Anon—1707) Sandman's Wedding, The (G. Parker—1789) Slang Pastoral, A (R. Tomlinson—1780) Song of the Beggar, The (Anon—1620) Song of the Young Prig, The (Anon—1810-9) Sonnets for the Fancy: I. Education. II. Progress. III. Triumph (Pierce Egan—1824) "The Faking Boy to the Crap is Gone" (Bon Gualtier—1841) The Night before Larry was stretched (W. Maher—1816) Thieves' Chaunt, The (W. H. Smith—1836) Tottie (G. R. Sims—1887) "Towre Out, Ben Morts" (S. Rowlands—1610) True Bottom'd Boxer, The (J. Jones—1825) Vain Dreamer, The (Anon—1725) Villon's Good Night (W. E. Henley—1887) Villon's Straight Tip (W. E. Henley—1887) "When my Dimber Dell I Courted" (Anon—1725) "Wot Cher" (A. Chevalier—1892) "Ye Scamps, ye Pads, ye Divers" (Messink—1781) "Ya-Hip, my Hearties!" (Gregson—1819)
INDEX TO AUTHORS
Ainsworth, W. Harrison Anonymous Baumann, Heinrich Bon Gualtier Brome, Richard Bruton, James Chevalier, Albert Copland, Robert Dekker, Thomas Dibdin, Thomas Doss Chiderdoss Ducange Anglicus Egan, Pierce Fletcher, John Goadby, Robert Gregson Harper, J. Henley, W. Ernest H. T. R. Jones, J. Maginn, William Maher, Will Matsell, G. W. Messink Middleton, Thomas Milliken, T. Moore, Thomas Morley, R. Parker, George Rede, Leman Reynolds, G. W. M. Rowlands, Samuel Sims, G. R. Smith, W. H. Tomlinson, R. Vance
FOREWORDS
When Harrison Ainsworth, in his preface to Rookwood, claimed tobe "the first to write a purely flash song" he was very wide of themark. As a matter of fact, "Nix my doll, pals, fake away!" had beenanticipated, in its treatment of canting phraseology, by nearly three centuries, and subsequently, by authors whose names stand high, in other respects, in English literature.
The mistake, however, was not altogether unpardonable; few, indeed, would have even guessed that the appearance of utter neglect which surrounded the use of Cant and Slang in English song, ballad, or verse—its rich and racy character notwithstanding—was anything but of the surface. The chanson d'argot of France and the romance di germania of Spain, not to mention other forms of the MUSA PEDESTRIS had long held popular sway, but there was to all appearance nothing to correspond with them on this side the silver streak.
It must be confessed, however, that the field of English slang verse and canting song, though not altogether barren, has yet small claim to the idiomatic and plastic treatment that obtains in many an Argot- song and Germania-romance; in truth, with a few notable exceptions, there is little in the present collection that can claim literary rank.
Those exceptions, however, are alone held to be ample justification for such an anthology as that here presented. Moreover these "Rhymes and Songs", gathered from up and down the years, exhibit, en masse, points of interest to the student and scholar that, in isolation, were either wanting altogether, or were buried and lost sight of midst a mass of more (or less) valuable matter.
As regards the Vulgar Tongue itself—though exhaustive disquisition obviously lies outside the scope of necessarily brief forewords—it may be pointed out that its origin in England is confessedly obscure. Prior to the second half of the 16th century, there was little trace of that flood of unorthodox speech which, in this year of grace eighteen hundred and ninety-six, requires six quarto double-columned volumes duly to chronicle—verily a vast and motley crowd!
As to the distinction to be drawn between Cant and Slang it is somewhat difficult to speak. Cant we know; its limits and place in the world of philology are well defined. In Slang, however, we have a veritable Proteus, ever shifting, and for the most part defying exact definition and orderly derivation. Few, save scholars and such-like folk, even distinguish between the two, though the line of demarcation is sharply enough defined.
In the first place, Slang is universal, whilst Cant is restricted in usage to certain classes of the community: thieves, vagrom men, and— well, their associates. One thing, indeed, both have in common; each are derived from a correct normal use of language. There, however, all similarity ends.
Slang boasts a quasi-respectability denied to Cant, though Cant is frequently more enduring, its use continuing without variation of meaning for many generations. With Slang this is the exception; present in force to-day, it is either altogether forgotten to-morrow, or has shaded off into some new meaning—a creation of chance and circumstance. Both Cant and Slang, but Slang to a more determinate degree, are mirrors in which those who look may see reflected a picture of the age, with its failings, foibles, and idiosyncrasies. They reflect the social life of the people, the mirror rarely being held to truth so faithfully—hence the present interest, and may be future value, of these songs and rhymes. For the rest the book will speak for itself.
MUSA PEDESTRIS
RHYMES OF THE CANTING CREW. [Notes] [c. 1536]
[From "The Hye-way to the Spyttel-hons" by ROBERT COPLAND (HAZLITT, Early Popular Poetry of England, iv.) ROBERT COPLAND and the Porter of St. Bartholomew's Hospital loquitor].
Copland. Come none of these pedlers this way also, With pak on bak with their bousy speche [1] Jagged and ragged with broken hose and breche?
Porter. Inow, ynow; with bousy coue maimed nace,[2] Teare the patryng coue in the darkeman cace Docked the dell for a coper meke; His watch shall feng a prounces nob-chete, Cyarum, by Salmon, and thou shall pek my jere In thy gan, for my watch it is nace gere For the bene bouse my watch hath a coyn. And thus they babble tyll their thryft is thin I wote not what with their pedlyng frenche.
[1 crapulous] [2 Notes]
THE BEGGAR'S CURSE [1608]
[From Lanthorne and Candlelight, by THOMAS DEKKER, ed. GROSART (188 ), iii, 203:—"a canting song, wherein you may learn, how this cursed generation pray, or (to speake truth) curse such officers as punish them"].
[Notes]
I
The Ruffin cly the nab of the Harmanbeck, If we mawnd Pannam, lap, or Ruff-peck, Or poplars of yarum: he cuts, bing to the Ruffmans, Or els he sweares by the light-mans, To put our stamps in the Harmans, The ruffian cly the ghost of the Harmanbeck If we heaue a booth we cly the lerk.
[The devil take the Constable's head! If we beg bread, drink, bacon, Or milk porridge, he says: "be off to the hedges" Or swears, in the morning To clap our feet in the stocks. The devil take the Constable's ghost If we rob a house we are flogged.]
II
If we niggle, or mill a bowzing Ken, Or nip a boung that has but a win, Or dup the giger of a Gentry cores ken, To the quier cuffing we bing; And then to the quier Ken, to scowre the Cramp-ring, And then to the Trin'de on the chates, in the light-mans, The Bube &. Ruffian cly the Harmanbeck & harmans.
[If we fornicate, or thieve in an alehouse, Rob a purse with only a penny in it. Or break into a gentleman's house, To the magistrate we go; Then to gaol to be shackled, Whence to be hanged on the gallows in the morning, The pox and the devil take the constable and his stocks.]
"OWRE OUT BEN MORTS" [1610]
[By SAMUEL ROWLANDS in "Martin Mark-all, Beadle of Bridewell: His Defence and Answere to the Belman of London"].
I
Towre out ben morts & towre,[1] Looke out ben morts & towre, For all the Rome coues are budgd a beake,[2] And the quire coves tippe the lowre.[3]
II
The quire coues are budgd to the bowsing ken,[4] As Romely as a ball,[5] But if we be spid we shall be clyd,[6] And carried to the quirken hall.[7]
III
Out budgd the Coue of the ken,[8] With a ben filtch in his quarr'me[9] That did the prigg good that bingd in the kisome,[10] To towre the Coue budge alar'me.
[1: look-out, good women;] [2: all the Rome-coves [Notes] have run away [Notes]] [3: Queer-coves taken the money] [4: have sneaked to the ale-house] [5: nimbly] [6: whipped] [7: taken to gaol.] [8: crept; master of the house] [:9 staff; hand.] [10: went to search for the man who had given the alarm.]
THE MAUNDER'S WOOING [Notes] [1610]
[By SAMUEL ROWLANDS in Martin Mark-all, Beadle of Bridewell: His Defence and Answere to the Belman of London:—"I will shew you what I heard at Knock-vergos, drinking there a pot of English Ale, two Maunders borne and bred vp rogues wooing in their natiue language"].
I
O Ben mort wilt thou pad with me,[1] One ben slate shall serue both thee and me,[2] My Caster and Commission shall serue vs both to maund,[3] My bong, my lowre & fambling cheates[4] Shall be at thy command.
II
O Ben Coue that may not be, [5] For thou hast an Autem mort who euer that is she,[6] If that she were dead & bingd to his long tibb,[7] Then would I pad and maund with thee,[8] And wap and fon the fibb.[9]
III
O ben mort Castle out & Towre,[10] Where all the Roome coues slopne that we may tip the lowre,[11] Whe_ [*]we haue tipt the lowre & fenc't away the duds[12] Then binge we to the bowzing ken,[13] Thats cut the Robin Hood.[14]
IV
But O ben Coue what if we be clyd, [15] Long we cannot foist & nip at last we shall be spyed, [16] If that we be spied, O then begins our woe, With the Harman beake out and alas, [17] To Wittington we goe. [18]
V
Stow your whids & plant, and whid no more of that [19] Budg a beak the crackmas & tip lowr with thy prat [20] If treyning thou dost feare, thou ner wilt foist a Ian, [21] Then mill, and wap and treine for me, [22] A gere peck in thy gan. [23]
As they were thus after a strange maner a wooing, in comes by chance a clapper-dudgeon [24] for a pinte of Ale, who as soone as he was spied, they left off their roguish poetry, and fell to mocke of the poor maunder thus.
VI
The clapper dugeon lies in the skipper, [25] He dares not come out for shame, But when he binges out he dus budg to the gigger, [26] Tip in my skew good dame.
[1: good woman, tramp] [2: sheet] [3: cloak; shirt; beg] [4: purse; money; rings] [5: good man] [6: wife] [7: gone to her longhome] [8: tramp and beg] [9: Notes] [10: find out] [11: thieves; congregate; get money] [12: sold the swag] [13: go to the alehouse] [14: called the "Robin Hood."] [15: arrested?] [16: cheat and steal] [17: magistrate] [18: Newgate] [19: Hold your jaw! hide, and say no more] [20: Notes] [21: hanging; pick a purse] [22: rob; whore; hang] [23: Notes] [24: Notes] [25: beggar; barn] [26: comes out; goes to people's doors—"Put something in my wallet."]
"A GAGE OF BEN ROM-BOUSE" [Notes] [1611]
[By MIDDLETON and DEKKER in "The Roaring Girl" V, 1. Sung by Moll-Cut-purse and Tearcat a bullying rogue.]
Moll. Come you rogue, sing with me:—
A gage of ben Rom-bouse,[1] In a bousing-ken of Rom-vile[2]
Tearcat. Is benar than a Caster,[3] Peck, pennam, lap, or popler,[4] Which we mill in deuse a vile.[5]
Moll. Oh, I wud lib all the lightmans,[6] Oh, I woud lib all the darkemans,[7] By the Salomon, under the Ruffemans[8] By the Salomon in the Hartmans[9]
Tearcat. And scoure the queer cramp ring[10] And couch till a palliard dock'd my dell,[11] So my bousy nab might skew rome bouse well[12] Avast to the pad, let us bing;[13] Avast to the pad, let us bing.
[1 A pot of strong ale (or wine)] [2 London ale-house] [3 better than a cloak] [4 meat, bread, drink, or porridge] [5 steal on the country-side.] [6 lie all day] [7 night] [8 By the mass! in the woods] [9 stocks] [10 in fetters] [11 Notes] [12 addle-pate may swill strong drink] [13 Let us be off on the road.]
"BING OUT, BIEN MORTS" [Notes] [1612]
[From O per se O, by THOMAS DEKKER].
Bing out, bien Morts, and toure, and toure,[1] bing out, bien Morts, and toure;[2] For all your Duds are bingd awaste,[3] the bien coue hath the loure.[4]
* * * * *
I
I met a Dell, I viewde her well,[5] she was benship to my watch; [6] So she and I, did stall and cloy,[7] whateuer we could catch. [8]
II
This Doxie dell, can cut bien whids, [9] and wap well for a win; [10] And prig and cloy so benshiply, [11] all the dewsea-vile within. [12]
III
The boyle was vp, wee had good lucke,[13] in frost, for and in snow;[14] When they did seeke, then we did creepe,[15] and plant in ruffe-mans low.[16]
IV
To Stawling Kenne the Mort bings then,[17] to fetch loure for her cheates;[18] Duds and Ruff-pecke, ruinboild by Harmanbecke,[19] and won by Mawnder's feates.[20]
V
You Mawnders all, stow what you stall,[21] to Rome coues watch so quire;[22] And wapping Dell that niggles well,[23] and takes loure for her hire.[24]
VI
And Jvbe well Ierkt, tick rome-comfeck,[25] for backe by glimmar to mawnd,[26] To mill each Ken, let coue bing then,[27] through ruffemans, lague or launde.[28]
VII
Till Cramprings quier, tip Coue his hire,[29] and quier-kens doe them catch;[30] A canniken, mill quier cuffen,[31] so quier to ben coue's watch.[32]
VIII
Bein darkmans then, bouse, mort, and ken [33] the bien coue's bingd awast; [34] On chates to trine, by Rome-coues dine [35] for his long lib at last. [36]
* * * * *
Bingd out bien morts, and toure, and toure,[37] bing out of the Rome-vile; [38] And toure the coue, that cloyde your duds,[39] upon the chates to trine.[40]
[1 Go abroad, good women,] [2 and look about you;] [3 For all your clothes are stolen;] [4 and a good fellow (a clever thief) has the money.] [5 I met a wench and summed her up,] [6 she suited me very well] [7 So (joining company) she watched while I stole] [8 whatever came our way.] [9 This young whore can lie like truth,] [10 fornicate vigorously for a penny] [11 And steal very cleverly] [12 on the countryside] [13 When the house was alarmed we had good luck] [14 in spite of frost and snow] [15 When they sought us we hid] [16 in the woods.] [17 To a thieves' receiving house the woman goes] [18 to get money for the swag—] [19 Notes] [20 got by a rogue's dexterity.] [21 Ye rogues do not brag of your booty] [22 to rogues who are not straight] [23 Or trust a mistress, who though she [Notes]] [24 does so for hire.] [25 With a counterfeit license and forged signatures [Notes]] [26 as to losses by fire] [27 To rob each house let a man go] [28 thro' hedge, ditch and field] [29 Till fetters are his desserts] [30 and a prison is his fate] [31 A plague take the magistrate!] [32 who is so hard on a clever rogue] [33 A good-night then to drink, wench, and ale-house—] [34 the poor fellow is gone] [35 On the gallows to hang by rogues betray'd] [36 to his long sleep.] [37 So go, my good woman] [38 out of London] [39 And see the man who stole your clothes] [40 upon the gallows hanging.]
THE SONG OF THE BEGGAR [Notes] [1620]
[From "A Description of Love" 6th ed. (1629)].
I
I am Rogue and a stout one, A most courageous drinker, I doe excell, 'tis knowne full well, The Ratter, Tom, and Tinker. Still doe I cry, good your Worship good Sir, Bestow one small Denire, Sir [1] And brauely at the bousing Ken [2] He bouse it all in Beere, Sir. [3]
II
If a Bung be got by the hie Law, [4] Then straight I doe attend them, For if Hue and Crie doe follow, I A wrong way soone doe send them. Still doe I cry, etc.
III
Ten miles vnto a Market. I runne to meet a Miser, Then in a throng, I nip his Bung, [5] And the partie ne'er the wiser. Still doe I cry, etc.
IV
My dainty Dals, my Doxis, [6] Whene'er they see me lacking, Without delay, poore wretches they Will set their Duds a packing. [7] Still doe I cry, etc. V
I pay for what I call for, And so perforce it must be, For as yet I can, not know the man, Nor Oastis that will trust me. Still doe I cry, etc.
VI
If any giue me lodging, A courteous Knaue they find me, For in their bed, aliue or dead, I leave some Lice behind me. Still doe I cry, etc.
VII
If a Gentry Coue be comming, [8] Then straight it is our fashion, My Legge I tie, close to my thigh, To moue him to compassion. Still doe I cry, etc.
VIII
My doublet sleeue hangs emptie, And for to begge the bolder, For meate and drinke mine arme I shrinke, Vp close vnto my shoulder. Still doe I cry, etc.
IX
If a Coach I heere be rumbling, To my Crutches then I hie me, For being lame, it is a shame, Such Gallants should denie me. Still doe I cry, etc.
X
With a seeming bursten belly, I looke like one half dead, Sir, Or else I beg with a woodden legge, And a Night-cap on me head, Sir, Still doe I cry, etc.
XI
In Winter time starke naked I come into some Citie, Then euery man that spare them can, Will giue me clothes for pittie. Still doe I cry, etc.
XII
If from out the Low-countrie, [9] I heare a Captaines name, Sir, Then strait I swere I have bin there; And so in fight came lame, Sir. Still doe I cry, etc.
XIII
My Dogge in a string doth lead me, When in the towne I goe, Sir, For to the blind, all men are kind, And will their Almes bestow, Sir, Still doe I cry, etc.
XIV
With Switches sometimes stand I, In the bottom of a Hill, Sir, There those men which doe want a switch, Some monie give me still, Sir. Still doe I cry, etc.
XV
Come buy, come buy a Horne-booke, Who buys my Pins or Needles? In Cities I these things doe crie, Oft times to scape the Beadles. Still doe I cry, etc.
XVI
In Pauls Church by a Pillar; [10] Sometimes you see me stand, Sir, With a Writ that showes, what care and woes I past by Sea and Land, Sir. Still doe I cry, etc.
XVII
Now blame me not for boasting, And bragging thus alone, Sir, For my selfe I will be praying still, For Neighbours have I none, Sir. Which makes me cry, etc.
[1: penny] [2: ale-house] [3: drink] [4: purse; Notes] [5: steal his purse] [6: girls; whores] [7: pawn their clothes] [8: gentleman] [9: Notes] [10: Notes]
* * * * *
THE MAUNDER'S INITIATION [Notes] [1622]
[From The Beggars Bush by JOHN FLETCHER; also in The New Canting Dict:—"Sung on the electing of a new dimber damber, or king of the gypsies"].
I
Cast your nabs and cares away, This is maunder's holiday: [1] In the world look out and see, Where so blest a king as he (Pointing to the newly-elected Prince.)
II
At the crowning of our king, Thus we ever dance and sing: Where's the nation lives so free, And so merrily as we?
III
Be it peace, or be it war, Here at liberty we are: Hang all harmanbecks we cry, [2] We the cuffins quere defy. [3]
IV
We enjoy our ease and rest, To the fields we are not pressed: And when taxes are increased, We are not a penny 'sessed.
V
Nor will any go to law, With a maunder for a straw, All which happiness he brags, Is only owing to his rags.
"Now swear him"—
I crown thy nab with a gage of ben bouse,[4] And stall thee by the salmon into clowes,[5] To maund on the pad, and strike all the cheats, [6] To mill from the Ruffmans, Commission, and slates, [7] Twang dells i' th' stiromel, and let the Quire Cuffin And Harman Beck strine and trine to the ruffin. [8]
[1: beggar] [2: constables] [3: magistrates] [4: I pour on thy pate a pot of good ale] [5: And install thee, by oath, a rogue] [6: To beg by the way, steal from all,] [7: Rob hedge of shirt and sheet,] [8: To lie with wenches on the straw, so let all magistrates and constables go to the devil and be hanged!]
THE HIGH PAD'S BOAST [b. 1625]
[Attributed to JOHN FLETCHER—a song from a collection of black-letter broadside ballads. Also in New Canting Dict. 1725.]
I
I keep my Horse; I keep my whore; I take no rents; yet am not poor; I travel all the land about, And yet was born to ne'er a foot.
II
With partridge plump, and woodcock fine, At midnight, I do often dine: And if my whore be not in Case, [1] My hostess' daughter has her place.
III
The maids sit up, and watch their turns; If I stay long, the tapster mourns; Nor has the cookmaid mind to sin, Tho' tempted by the chamberlain.
IV
But when I knock, O how they bustle; The hostler yawns, the geldings justle: If the maid be sleepy, O how they curse her; And all this comes, of, Deliver your purse, sir.
[1: in the house]
THE MERRY BEGGARS [Notes] [1641]
[From A Jovial Crew, by RICHARD BROME. The beggars discovered at their feast. After they have scrambled awhile at their Victuals: this song].
I
Here safe in our Skipper let's cly off our Peck, [1] And bowse in defiance o' the Harman Beck. [2] Here's Pannam and Lap, and good Poplars of Yarrum, [3] To fill up the Crib, and to comfort the Quarron. [4] Now bowse a round health to the Go-well and Corn-well, [5] Of Cisley Bumtrincket that lies in the Strummel; [6]
II
Here's Ruffpeck and Casson, and all of the best, [7] And Scrape of the Dainties of Gentry Cofe's Feast [8] Here's Grunter and Bleater, with Tib-of-the-Buttry, [9] And Margery Prater, all dress'd without sluttry. [10] For all this bene Cribbing and Peck let us then, [11] Bowse a health to the Gentry Cofe of the Ken. [12] Now bowse a round health to the Go-well and Corn-well [13] Of Cisley Bumtrincket that lies in the Strummel. [14]
[1: Safe in our barn let's eat] [2: And drink without fear of the constable!] [3: Here's bread, drink, and milk-porridge] [4: To fill the belly, and comfort the body.] [5: Drink a good health [Notes]] [6: To Cisley Bumtrincket lying in the straw] [7: Here's bacon and cheese] [8: And scraps from the gentleman's table] [9: Here's pork, mutton, goose,] [10: And chicken, all well-cooked.] [11: For this good food and meat let us] [12: Drink the gentleman's health and] [13: Then drink a bumper] [14: to Cisley Bumtrincket.]
A MORT'S DRINKING SONG [Notes] [1641]
[From A Jovial Crew, by RICHARD BROME: Enter Patrico with his old wife with a wooden bowle of drink. She is drunk. She sings:—]
I
This is bien bowse, this is bien bowse, [1] Too little is my Skew. [2] I bowse no lage, but a whole gage [3] Of this I'll bowse to you.
II
This bowse is better than rom-bowse, [4] It sets the gan a-gigling, [5] The autum-mort finds better sport [6] In bowsing than in nigling. [7] This is bien bowse, etc.
[She tosses off her bowle, falls back and is carried out.]
[1: strong ale] [2: cup or platter] [3: water; pot] [4: wine] [5: mouth] [6: wife] [7: fornicating]
"A BEGGAR I'LL BE" [Notes] [1660—1663]
[A black-letter broadside ballad]
I A Beggar, a Beggar, a Beggar I'll be, There's none leads a life more jocund than he; A Beggar I was, and a Beggar I am, A Beggar I'll be, from a Beggar I came; If, as it begins, our trading do fall, We, in the Conclusion, shall Beggars be all. Tradesmen are unfortunate in their Affairs, And few Men are thriving but Courtiers and Play'rs.
II
A Craver my Father, a Maunder my Mother, [1] A Filer my Sister, a Filcher my Brother, A Canter my Uncle, that car'd not for Pelf, A Lifter my Aunt, and a Beggar myself; In white wheaten Straw, when their Bellies were full, Then was I got between a Tinker and a Trull. And therefore a Beggar, a Beggar I'll be, For there's none lives a Life more jocund than he
III
For such pretty Pledges, as Lullies from Hedges. [2] We are not in fear to be drawn upon Sledges, But sometimes the Whip doth make us to skip And then we from Tything to Tything do trip; But when in a poor Boozing-Can we do bib it, [3] We stand more in dread of the Stocks than the Gibbet And therefore a merry mad Beggar I'll be For when it is night in the Barn tumbles he.
IV
We throw down no Altar, nor never do falter, So much as to change a Gold-chain for a Halter; Though some Men do flout us, and others do doubt us, We commonly bear forty Pieces about us; But many good Fellows are fine and look fiercer, And owe for their Cloaths to the Taylor and Mercer: And if from the Harmans I keep out my Feet, [4] I fear not the Compter, King's Bench, nor the Fleet. [5]
V
Sometimes I do frame myself to be lame, And when a Coach comes, I hop to my game; We seldom miscarry, or never do marry, By the Gown, Common-Prayer, or Cloak-Directory; But Simon and Susan, like Birds of a Feather They kiss, and they laugh, and so jumble together; [6] Like Pigs in the Pea-straw, intangled they lie, Till there they beget such a bold rogue as I.
VI
When Boys do come to us, and their Intent is To follow our Calling, we ne'er bind 'em 'Prentice; Soon as they come to 't, we teach them to do 't, And give them a Staff and a Wallet to boot; We teach them their Lingua, to crave and to cant, [7] The Devil is in them if then they can want. And he or she, that a Beggar will be, Without any Indentures they shall be made free.
VII
We beg for our Bread, yet sometimes it happens We fast it with Pig, Pullet, Coney, and Capons The Church's Affairs, we are no Men-slayers, We have no Religion, yet live by our Prayers; But if when we beg, Men will not draw their Purses, We charge, and give Fire, with a Volley of Curses; The Devil confound your good Worship, we cry, And such a bold brazen-fac'd Beggar am I.
VIII
We do things in Season, and have so much Reason, We raise no Rebellion, nor never talk Treason; We Bill all our Mates at very low rates, While some keep their Quarters as high as the fates; With Shinkin-ap-Morgan, with Blue-cap, or Teague, [8] We into no Covenant enter, nor League. And therefore a bonny bold Beggar I'll be, For none lives a life more merry than he.
[1 Notes] [2 wet linen] [3 ale-house] [4 stocks] [5 Notes] [6 Notes] [7 beggar's patter] [8 Notes]
A BUDG AND SNUDG SONG [Notes] [1676 and 1712]
[From A Warning for Housekeepers... by one who was a prisoner in Newgate 1676. The second version from the Triumph of Wit (1712)].
I
The budge it is a delicate trade, [1] And a delicate trade of fame; For when that we have bit the bloe,[2] We carry away the game: But if the cully nap us, [3] And the lurries from us take, [4] O then {they rub}{he rubs} us to the whitt [5] {And it is hardly }{Though we are not} worth a make [6]
II
{But}{And} when we come to the whitt Our darbies to behold, [7] And for to (take our penitency)(do out penance there) {And}{We} boose the water cold. [8] But when that we come out agen [And the merry hick we meet] [9] We (bite the Cully of; file off with) his cole [10] As (we walk; he pikes) along the street.
III
[And when that we have fil'd him [11] Perhaps of half a job; [12] Then every man to the boozin ken [13] O there to fence his hog; [14] But if the cully nap us, And once again we get Into the cramping rings], [15] (But we are rubbed into; To scoure them in) the whitt.
IV
And when that we come (to; unto) the whitt, For garnish they do cry; [16] (Mary, faugh, you son of a whore; We promise our lusty comrogues) (Ye; They) shall have it by and bye [Then, every man with his mort in his hand, [17] Does booze off his can and part, With a kiss we part, and westward stand, To the nubbing cheat in a cart]. [18]
V
{But/And} when {that/—-} we come to {Tyburn/the nubbing cheat} For {going upon/running on} the budge, There stands {Jack Catch/Jack Ketch}, that son of a {whore/bitch}, [19] That owes us all a grudge. {And/For} when that he hath {noosed/nubbed} us, [20] And our friends {tips/tip} him no cole, [21] {O then he throws us in the cart/He takes his chive and cuts us down}, [22] And {tumbles/tips} us into {the/a} hole.
[An additional stanza is given in Bacchus and Venus (1737), a version which moreover contains many verbal variations]. [23]
VI
But if we have a friend stand by, Six and eight pence for to pay, Then they may have our bodies back, And carry us quite away: For at St Giles's or St Martin's, A burying place is still; And there's an end of a darkman's budge, And the whoreson hath his will.
[1: Sneaking into houses and stealing anything to hand] [2: Accomplished the theft] [3: fellow catches] [4 swag [properly money]] [5: take us to Newgate; [Notes]] [6: halfpenny] [7: fetters] [8: drink] [9: countryman] [10: steal his money] [11: robbed] [12: half a guinea] [13: ale-house] [14: spend a shilling] [15: Handcuffs and leg-shackles] [16: "footing"] [17: whore] [18: gallows] [19: Notes] [20: hung] [21: give no money] [22: knife] [23: Notes]
THE MAUNDER'S PRAISE OF HIS STROWLING MORT [Notes] [1707]
[From The Triumph of Wit, by J. SHIRLEY: "the King of the Gypsies's Song, made upon his Beloved Doxy, or Mistress;" also in New Canting Diet. (1725)].
I
Doxy, oh! thy glaziers shine [1] As glimmar; by the Salomon! [2] No gentry mort hath prats like thine, [3] No cove e'er wap'd with such a one. [4]
II
White thy fambles, red thy gan, [5] And thy quarrons dainty is; [6] Couch a hogshead with me then, [7] And in the darkmans clip and kiss. [8]
III
What though I no togeman wear, [9] Nor commission, mish, or slate; [10] Store of strammel we'll have here, [11] And ith' skipper lib in state. [12]
IV
Wapping thou I know does love, [13] Else the ruffin cly the mort; [14] From thy stampers then remove, [15] Thy drawers, and let's prig in sport. [16]
V
When the lightman up does call, [17] Margery prater from her nest, [18] And her Cackling cheats withal, [19] In a boozing ken we'll feast. [20]
VI
There if lour we want; I'll mill [21] A gage, or nip for thee a bung; [22] Rum booze thou shalt booze thy fill, [23] And crash a grunting cheat that's young. [24]
[1 mistress; eyes] [2 fire; mass] [3 lady; [Notes]] [4 [Notes]] [5 hand; mouth] [6 body] [7 sleep] [8 night; [Notes]] [9 cloak] [10 shirt or sheet] [11 straw] [12 in the barn; lie] [13 Notes] [14 the devil take the woman otherwise] [15 feet] [16 stockings; revel] [17 daylight] [18 hen] [19 chickens] [20 ale-house] [21 Money; steal] [22 pot; steal a purse] [23 wine; drink] [24 eat; pig]
THE RUM-MORT'S PRAISE OF HER FAITHLESS MAUNDER [Notes] [1707]
[From The Triumph of Wit, by J. Shirley: also in New Canting Dict.].
I
Now my kinching-cove is gone, [1] By the rum-pad maundeth none, [2] Quarrons both for stump and bone, [3] Like my clapperdogeon. [4]
II
Dimber damber fare thee well, [5] Palliards all thou didst excel, [6] And thy jockum bore the Bell, [7] Glimmer on it never fell. [8]
III
Thou the cramprings ne'er did scowre, [9] Harmans had on thee no power, [10] Harmanbecks did never toure; [11] For thee, the drawers still had loure. [12]
IV
Duds and cheats thou oft hast won, [13] Yet the cuffin quire couldst shun; [14] And the deuseaville didst run, [15] Else the chates had thee undone. [16]
V
Crank and dommerar thou couldst play, [17] Or rum-maunder in one day, And like an Abram-cove couldst pray, Yet pass with gybes well jerk'd away.
VI
When the darkmans have been wet, [18] Thou the crackmans down didst beat [19] For glimmer, whilst a quaking cheat, [20] Or tib-o'-th'-buttry was our meat. [21]
VII
Red shanks then I could not lack, [22] Ruff peck still hung on my Back, [23] Grannam ever fill'd my sack [24] With lap and poplars held I tack. [25]
VIII
To thy bugher and thy skew, [26] Filch and gybes I bid adieu, [27] Though thy togeman was not new, [28] In it the rogue to me was true.
[1: little man] [2: highway; beggeth] [3: body] [4: Notes] [5: Notes] [6: Notes] [7: Notes] [8: Notes] [9: fetters; wear] [10: stocks] [11: constables, look] [12: pockets; money] [13: clothes; general plunder] [14: magistrate] [15: country] [16: gallows] [17: Notes] [18: night] [19: hedge] [20: fire, duck] [21: goose] [22: turkey] [23: bacon] [24: corn] [25: any potable; porridge] [26: dog; wooden dish] [27: hook; counterfeit pass] [28: cloak]
THE BLACK PROCESSION [Notes] [1712]
[From The Triumph of Wit, by J. SHIRLEY:—"The twenty craftsmen, described by the notorious thief-taker Jonathan Wild"].
Good people, give ear, whilst a story I tell, Of twenty black tradesmen who were brought up in hell, On purpose poor people to rob of their due; There's none shall be nooz'd if you find but one true. [1] The first was a coiner, that stampt in a mould; The second a voucher to put off his gold, [2] Toure you well; hark you well, see [3] Where they are rubb'd, [4] Up to the nubbing cheat where they are nubb'd. [5]
II
The third was a padder, that fell to decay, [6] Who used for to plunder upon the highway; The fourth was a mill-ken to crack up a door, [7] He'd venture to rob both the rich and the poor, The fifth was a glazier who when he creeps in, [8] To pinch all the lurry he thinks it no sin. [9] Toure you well, etc.
III
The sixth is a file-cly that not one cully spares,[10] The seventh a budge to track softly upstairs; [11] The eighth is a bulk, that can bulk any hick, [12] If the master be nabbed, then the bulk he is sick, The ninth is an angler, to lift up a grate [13] If he sees but the lurry his hooks he will bait. Toure you well, etc.
IV
The tenth is a shop-lift that carries a Bob, When he ranges the city, the shops for to rob. The eleventh a bubber, much used of late; Who goes to the ale house, and steals all their plate, The twelfth is a beau-trap, if a cull he does meet He nips all his cole, and turns him into the street. Toure you well, etc.
V
The thirteenth a famble, false rings for to sell, [17] When a mob, he has bit his cole he will tell; The fourteenth a gamester, if he sees the cull sweet [18] He presently drops down a cog in the street; [19] The fifteenth a prancer, whose courage is small, [20] If they catch him horse-coursing, he's nooz'd once for all. [21] Toure you well, etc.
VI
The sixteenth a sheep-napper, whose trade is so deep, [22] If he's caught in the corn, he's marked for a sheep [23] The seventeenth a dunaker, that stoutly makes vows, [24] To go in the country and steal all the cows; The eighteenth a kid-napper, who spirits young men, Tho' he tips them a pike, they oft nap him again. Toure you well, etc.
VII
The nineteenth's a prigger of cacklers who harms, [25] The poor country higlers, and plunders the farms; [26] He steals all their poultry, and thinks it no sin, When into the hen-roost, in the night, he gets in; The twentieth's a thief-catcher, so we him call, Who if he be nabb'd will be made pay for all. Toure you well, etc.
[in Bacchus and Venus (1737) an additional stanza is given:—]
VIII
There's many more craftsmen whom here I could name, [27] Who use such-like trades, abandon'd of shame; To the number of more than three-score on the whole, Who endanger their body, and hazard their soul; And yet; though good workmen, are seldom made free, Till they ride in a cart, and be noozed on a tree. Toure you well, hark you well, see where they are rubb'd, Up to the nubbing cheat, where they are nubb'd.
[1: hung] [2: passer of base coin] [3: Look! be on your guard] [4: taken] [5: gallows: hung] [6: Tramp or foot-pad.] [7: housebreaker] [8: window thief] [9: valuables] [10: pickpocket; man or silly fop] [11: sneaking-thief] [12: accomplice who jostles whilst another robs: countryman] [13: thief who hooks goods from shop-windows] [14: public-house thief] [15: confidence-trick man; good-natured fool] [16: steals all his money] [17: Notes] [18: an easy dupe] [19: a lure] [20: horse-thief] [21: hung] [22: sheep-stealer] [23: as a duffer] [24: cattle-lifter] [25: poultry-thief] [26: bumpkins] [27: members of the Canting Crew]
FRISKY MOLL'S SONG [1724]
[By J. HARPER, and sung by Frisky Moll in JOHN THURMOND'S Harlequin Sheppard produced at Drury Lane Theatre].
I
From priggs that snaffle the prancers strong, [1] To you of the Peter Lay, [2] I pray now listen a while to my song, How my Boman he kick'd away. [3]
II
He broke thro' all rubbs in the whitt, [4] And chiv'd his darbies in twain; [5] But fileing of a rumbo ken, [6] My Boman is snabbled again. [7]
III
I Frisky Moll, with my rum coll, [8] Wou'd Grub in a bowzing ken; [9] But ere for the scran he had tipt the cole, [10] The Harman he came in. [11]
IV
A famble, a tattle, and two popps, [12] Had my Boman when he was ta'en; But had he not bouz'd in the diddle shops, [13] He'd still been in Drury-Lane.
[1: steal horses] [2: carriage thieves] [3: fancy man or sweetheart] [4: obstacles; Newgate] [5: cut fetters] [6: Breaking into a pawn-broker's] [7: imprisoned] [8: good man] [9: eat; ale-house] [10: refreshments; paid] [11: constable] [12 ring; watch; pistols] [13 gin-shops]
THE CANTER'S SERENADE [Notes] [1725]
[from The New Canting Dictionary:—"Sung early in the morning, at the barn doors where their doxies have reposed during the night"].
I
Ye morts and ye dells [1] Come out of your cells, And charm all the palliards about ye; [2] Here birds of all feathers, Through deep roads and all weathers, Are gathered together to toute ye.
II
With faces of wallnut, And bladder and smallgut, We're come scraping and singing to rouse ye; Rise, shake off your straw, And prepare you each maw [3] To kiss, eat, and drink till you're bouzy. [4]
[1: women; girls] [2: beggars [Notes]] [3: mouth] [4: drunk,]
"RETOURE MY DEAR DELL" [Notes] [1725]
[From The New Canting Dictionary]
I
Each darkmans I pass in an old shady grove, [1] And live not the lightmans I toute not my love, [2] I surtoute every walk, which we used to pass, [3] And couch me down weeping, and kiss the cold grass: [4] I cry out on my mort to pity my pain, And all our vagaries remember again.
II
Didst thou know, my dear doxy, but half of the smart [5] Which has seized on my panter, since thou didst depart; [6] Didst thou hear but my sighs, my complaining and groans, Thou'dst surely retoure, and pity my moans: [7] Thou'dst give me new pleasure for all my past pain, And I should rejoice in thy glaziers again. [8]
III
But alas! 'tis my fear that the false Patri-coe [9] Is reaping those transports are only my due: Retoure, my dear doxy, oh, once more retoure, And I'll do all to please thee that lies in my power: Then be kind, my dear dell, and pity my pain, And let me once more toute thy glaziers again
IV
On redshanks and tibs thou shalt every day dine, [10] And if it should e'er be my hard fate to trine, [11] I never will whiddle, I never will squeek, [12] Nor to save my colquarron endanger thy neck, [13] Then once more, my doxy, be kind and retoure, And thou shalt want nothing that lies in my power.
[1: night] [2: day; see] [3: know well] [4: lie] [5: mistress] [6: heart] [7: return] [8: eyes] [9: hedge-priest] [10: turkey; geese] [11: hang] [12: speak] [13: neck]
THE VAIN DREAMER. [Notes] [1725]
[From The New Canting Dictionary].
I Yest darkmans dream'd I of my dell, [1] When sleep did overtake her; It was a dimber drowsy mort, [2] She slept, I durst not wake her.
II
Her gans were like to coral red, [3] A thousand times I kiss'd 'em; A thousand more I might have filch'd' [4] She never could have miss'd 'em.
III
Her strammel, curl'd, like threads of gold, [5] Hung dangling o'er the pillow; Great pity 'twas that one so prim, Should ever wear the willow.
IV
I turned down the lilly slat, [6] Methought she fell a screaming, This startled me; I straight awak'd, And found myself but dreaming.
[1: evening] [2: pretty] [3: lips] [4: stolen] [5: hair] [6: white sheet]
"WHEN MY DIMBER DELL I COURTED" [Notes] [1725]
[From The New Canting Dictionary],
I
When my dimber dell I courted [1] She had youth and beauty too, Wanton joys my heart transported, And her wap was ever new. [2] But conquering time doth now deceive her, Which her pleasures did uphold; All her wapping now must leave her, For, alas! my dell's grown old.
II
Her wanton motions which invited, Now, alas! no longer charm, Her glaziers too are quite benighted, [3] Nor can any prig-star charm. For conquering time, alas! deceives her Which her triumphs did uphold, And every moving beauty leaves her Alas! my dimber dell's grown old.
III
There was a time no cull could toute her, [4] But was sure to be undone: Nor could th' uprightman live without her, [5] She triumph'd over every one. But conquering time does now deceive her, Which her sporting us'd t' uphold, All her am'rous dambers leave her, For, alas! the dell's grown old.
IV
All thy comfort, dimber dell, Is, now, since thou hast lost thy prime, That every cull can witness well, Thou hast not misus'd thy time. There's not a prig or palliard living, Who has not been thy slave inroll'd. Then cheer thy mind, and cease thy grieving; Thou'st had thy time, tho' now grown old.
[1: pretty wench] [2: Notes] [3: eyes] [4: man; look at] [5: Notes]
THE OATH OF THE CANTING CREW [Notes] [1749]
[From The Life of Bampfylde Moore Carew, by ROBERT GOADBY].
I, Crank Cuffin, swear to be [1] True to this fraternity; That I will in all obey Rule and order of the lay. Never blow the gab or squeak; [2] Never snitch to bum or beak; [3] But religiously maintain Authority of those who reign Over Stop Hole Abbey green, [4] Be their tawny king, or queen. In their cause alone will fight; Think what they think, wrong or right; Serve them truly, and no other, And be faithful to my brother; Suffer none, from far or near, With their rights to interfere; No strange Abram, ruffler crack, [5] Hooker of another pack, Rogue or rascal, frater, maunderer, [6] Irish toyle, or other wanderer; [7] No dimber, dambler, angler, dancer, Prig of cackler, prig of prancer; No swigman, swaddler, clapper-dudgeon; Cadge-gloak, curtal, or curmudgeon; No whip-jack, palliard, patrico; No jarkman, be he high or low; No dummerar, or romany; No member of the family; No ballad-basket, bouncing buffer, Nor any other, will I suffer; But stall-off now and for ever All outtiers whatsoever; And as I keep to the foregone, So may help me Salamon! [By the mass!]
[1: Notes] [2: reveal secrets] [3: betray to bailif or magistrate] [4: Notes] [5: Notes] [6: Notes; beggar] [7: Notes]
COME ALL YOU BUFFERS GAY [Notes] [1760]
[From The Humourist .... a choice collection oL songs. 'A New Flash Song', p. 2].
I
Come all you buffers gay, [1] That rumly do pad the city, [2] Come listen to what I do say, And it will make you wond'rous wity.
II
The praps are at Drury Lane, And at Covent Garden also, Therefore I tell you plain, It will not be safe for to go.
III
But if after a rum cull you pad [3] Pray follow him brave and bold; For many a buffer has been grab'd, For fear, as I've been told.
IV
Let your pal that follows behind, Tip your bulk pretty soon; And to slap his whip in time, [4] For fear the cull should be down. [5]
V
For if the cull should be down. And catch you a fileing his bag, [6] Then at the Old Bailey you're found, And d—m you, he'll tip you the lag. [7]
VI
But if you should slape his staunch wipe [8] Then away to the fence you may go, [9] From thence to the ken of one T— [10] Where you in full bumpers may flow.
VII
But now I have finish'd my rhime, And of you all must take my leave; I would have you to leave off in time, Or they will make your poor hearts to bleed.
[1: rogue or horse-thief] [2: prowl about] [3: well-dressed victim; walk] [4: give signal to confederate] [5: Notes] [6: robbing] [7: get you transported] [8: steal; handkerchief] [9: receiver of stolen property] [10: house]
THE POTATO MAN [Notes] [1775]
[from The Ranelaugh Concert...a choice collection of the newest songs sung at all the public places of entertainment].
I
I am a saucy rolling blade, [1] I fear not wet nor dry, I keep a jack ass for my trade, And thro' the streets do cry Chorus. And they all rare potatoes be! And they're, etc.
II
A moll I keep that sells fine fruit, [2] There's no one brings more cly; [3] She has all things the seasons suit, While I my potatoes cry. Chorus. And they all, etc.
III
A link boy once I stood the gag, [4] At Charing Cross did ply, Here's light your honor for a mag, [5] But now my potatoes cry. Chorus. And they all, etc.
IV
With a blue bird's eye about my squeeg, [6] And a check shirt on my back, [7] A pair of large wedges in my hoofs, And an oil skin round my hat. Chorus. And they all, etc.
V
I'll bait a bull or fight a cock, Or pigeons I will fly; I'm up to all your knowing rigs [8] Whilst I my potatoes cry. Chorus. And they all, etc.
VI
There's five pounds two-pence honest weight Your own scales take and try; For nibbing culls I always hate, [9] And I in safety cry. Chorus. And they all, etc.
[1: fellow] [2: mistress] [3: money; Notes] [4: cry out] [5: halfpenny] [6: handkerchief] [7: Notes; neck.] [8: smart tricks] [9: cheating dealers]
A SLANG PASTORAL [Notes] [1780]
[By R. TOMLINSON:—a Parody on a poem by Dr. Byrom, "My time, O ye muses, was happily spent"].
I
My time, O ye kiddies, was happily spent, [1] When Nancy trigg'd with me wherever I went; [2] Ten thousand sweet joys ev'ry night did we prove; Sure never poor fellow like me was in love! But since she is nabb'd, and has left me behind, [3] What a marvellous change on a sudden I find! When the constable held her as fast as could be, I thought 'twas Bet Spriggins; but damme 'twas she.
II
With such a companion, a green-stall to keep, To swig porter all day, on a flock-bed to sleep, [4] I was so good-natur'd, so bobbish and gay, [5] And I still was as smart as a carrot all day: But now I so saucy and churlish am grown, So ragged and greasy, as never was known; My Nancy is gone, and my joys are all fled, And my arse hangs behind me, as heavy as lead.
III
The Kennel, that's wont to run swiftly along, And dance to soft murmurs dead kittens among, Thou know'st, little buckhorse, if Nancy was there, 'Twas pleasure to look at, 'twas music to hear: But now that she's off, I can see it run past, And still as it murmurs do nothing but blast. Must you be so cheerful, while I go in pain? Stop your clack, and be damn'd t'ye, and hear me complain.
IV
When the bugs in swarms round me wou'd oftentimes play, And Nancy and I were as frisky as they, We laugh'd at their biting, and kiss'd all the time, For the spring of her beauty was just in its prime! But now for their frolics I never can sleep, So I crack 'em by dozens, as o'er me they creep: Curse blight you! I cry, while I'm all over smart, For I'm bit by the arse, while I'm stung to the heart.
V
The barber I ever was pleased to see, With his paigtail come scraping to Nancy and me; And Nancy was pleas'd too, and to the man said, Come hither, young fellow, and frizzle my head: But now when he's bowing, I up with my stick, Cry, blast you, you scoundrel! and give him a kick— And I'll lend him another, for why should not John Be as dull as poor Dermot, when Nancy is gone?
VI
When sitting with Nancy, what sights have I seen! How white was the turnep, the col'wart how green! What a lovely appearance, while under the shade, The carrot, the parsnip, the cauliflow'r made! But now she mills doll, tho' the greens are still there, [6] They none of 'em half so delightful appear: It was not the board that was nail'd to the wall, Made so many customers visit our stall.
VII
Sweet music went with us both all the town thro', To Bagnigge, White Conduit, and Sadler's-Wells too; [7] Soft murmur'd the Kennels, the beau-pots how sweet, And crack went the cherry-stones under our feet: But now she to Bridewell has punch'd it along, [8] My eye, Betty Martin! on music a song: 'Twas her voice crying mack'rel, as now I have found, Gave ev'ry-thing else its agreeable sound.
VIII
Gin! What is become of thy heart-chearing fire, And where is the beauty of Calvert's Intire? Does aught of its taste Double Gloucester beguile, That ham, those potatoes, why do they not smile, Ah! rot ye, I see what it was you were at, Why you knocked up your froth, why you flash'd off your fat: To roll in her ivory, to pleasure her eye, To be tipt by her tongue, on her stomach to lie.
IX
How slack is the crop till my Nancy return! No duds in my pocket, no sea-coal to burn! [9] Methinks if I knew where the watchman wou'd tread, I wou'd follow, and lend him a punch o' the head. Fly swiftly, good watchman, bring hither my dear, And, blast me! I'll tip ye a gallon of beer. [10] Ah, sink him! the watchman is full of delay, Nor will budge one foot faster for all I can say.
X
Will no blood-hunting foot-pad, that hears me complain, Stop the wind of that nabbing-cull, constable Payne? [11] If he does, he'll to Tyburn next sessions be dragg'd, And what kiddy's so rum as to get himself scragg'd? [12] No! blinky, discharge her, and let her return; For ne'er was poor fellow so sadly forlorn. Zounds! what shall I do? I shall die in a ditch; Take warning by me how you're leagu'd with a bitch.
[1: companions] [2: accompanied] [3: jailed] [4: drink] [5: light-hearted] [6: picks oakum] [7: Notes] [8: gone] [9: money] [10: treat] [11: Note] [12: foolish]
YE SCAMPS, YE PADS, YE DIVERS [Notes] [1781]
[From The Choice of Harlequin: or The Indian Chief by MR. MESSINK, and sung by JOHN EDWIN as "the Keeper of Bridewell"].
I
Ye scamps, ye pads, ye divers, and all upon the lay, [1] In Tothill-fields gay sheepwalk, like lambs ye sport and play; [2] Rattling up your darbies, come hither at my call; I'm jigger dubber here, and you are welcome to mill doll. [3] With my tow row, etc.
II
At your insurance office the flats you've taken in, The game they've play'd, my kiddy, you're always sure to win; First you touch the shiners—the number up—you break, [4] With your insuring-policy, I'd not insure your neck. With my tow row, etc.
III
The French, with trotters nimble, could fly from English blows, [5] And they've got nimble daddles, as monsieur plainly shews; [6] Be thus the foes of Britain bang'd, ay, thump away, monsieur, The hemp you're beating now will make your solitaire. With my tow row, etc.
IV
My peepers! who've we here now? why this is sure Black-Moll: [7] My ma'am, you're of the fair sex, so welcome to mill doll; The cull with you who'd venture into a snoozing-ken, [8] Like Blackamore Othello, should "put out the light—and then." With my tow row, etc.
V
I think my flashy coachman, that you'll take better care, Nor for a little bub come the slang upon your fare; [9] Your jazy pays the garnish, unless the fees you tip, [10] Though you're a flashy coachman, here the gagger holds the whip, With my tow row, etc. Chorus omnes We're scamps, we're pads, we're divers, we're all upon the lay, In Tothill-fields gay sheepwalk, like lambs we sport and play; Rattling up our darbies, we're hither at your call, You're jigger dubber here, and we're forc'd for to mill doll. With my tow row, etc.
[1: footpads; pick pockets; Notes] [2: Tothill-fields prison] [3: warder, pick oakum] [4: money] [5: feet] [6: fist] [7: eyes] [8: common lodging-house][Notes] [9: drink; abuse] [10: wig; "footing"]
THE SANDMAN'S WEDDING [b. 1789]
[A Cantata by G. Parker (?)].
Recitative.
As Joe the sandman drove his noble team Of raw-rump'd jennies, "Sand-ho!" was his theme: Just as he turned the corner of the drum, [1] His dear lov'd Bess, the bunter, chanc'd to come; [2] With joy cry'd "Woa", did turn his quid and stare, First suck'd her jole, then thus addressed the fair. [3]
Air.
I
Forgive me if I praise those charms Thy glaziers bright, lips, neck, and arms [4] Thy snowy bubbies e'er appear Like two small hills of sand, my dear: Thy beauties, Bet, from top to toe Have stole the heart of Sandman Joe.
II
Come wed, my dear, and let's agree, Then of the booze-ken you'll be free; [5] No sneer from cully, mot, or froe [6] Dare then reproach my Bess for Joe; For he's the kiddy rum and queer, [7] That all St. Giles's boys do fear
Recitative.
With daylights flashing, Bess at length reply'd, [8] Must Joey proffer this, and be deny'd? No, no, my Joe shall have his heart delight And we'll be wedded ere we dorse this night; [9] "Well lipp'd," quoth Joe, "no more you need to say"—[10] "Gee-up! gallows, do you want my sand to-day?"
Air.
I
Joe sold his sand, and cly'd his cole, sir, [11] While Bess got a basket of rags, Then up to St. Giles's they roll'd, sir, To every bunter Bess brags: Then into a booze-ken they pike it, [12] Where Bess was admitted we hear; For none of the coves dare but like it, As Joey, her kiddy, was there.
II
Full of glee, until ten that they started, For supper Joe sent out a win; A hog's maw between them was parted, And after they sluic'd it with gin: It was on an old leather trunk, sir, They married were, never to part; But Bessy, she being blind drunk, sir, Joe drove her away in his cart.
[1: street] [2: rag-gatherer] [3: kissed her] [4: eyes] [5: ale-house] [6: fellow, girl, or wife] [7: brave and cute] [8: eyes] [9: sleep] [10: spoken] [11: pocketed his money] [12: go]
THE HAPPY PAIR. [1789]
[By GEORGE PARKER in Life's Painter of Variegated Characters].
Joe.
Ye slang-boys all, since wedlock's nooze, Together fast has tied Moll Blabbermums and rowling Joe, Each other's joy and pride; Your broomsticks and tin kettles bring, With cannisters and stones: Ye butchers bring your cleavers too, Likewise your marrow-bones; For ne'er a brace in marriage hitch'd, By no one can be found, That's half so blest as Joe and Moll, Search all St. Giles's round.
Moll.
Though fancy queer-gamm'd smutty Muns Was once my fav'rite man, Though rugged-muzzle tink'ring Tom For me left maw-mouth'd Nan: Though padding Jack and diving Ned, [1] With blink-ey'd buzzing Sam, [2] Have made me drunk with hot, and stood [3] The racket for a dram; Though Scamp the ballad-singing kid, Call'd me his darling frow, [4] I've tip'd them all the double, for [5] The sake of rowling Joe.
Chorus.
Therefore, in jolly chorus now, Let's chaunt it altogether, And let each cull's and doxy's heart [6] Be lighter than a feather; And as the kelter runs quite flush, [7] Like natty shining kiddies, To treat the coaxing, giggling brims, [8] With spunk let's post our neddies; [9] Then we'll all roll in bub and grub, [10] Till from this ken we go, [11] Since rowling Joe's tuck'd up with Moll, And Moll's tuck'd up with Joe.
[1: tramping; pick-pocket] [2: pickpocket] [3: paid for] [4: woman, girl] [5: jilted] [6: man; woman] [7: money] [8: whores] [9: spirit; spend our guineas] [10: drink; food] [11: drinking-house]
THE BUNTER'S CHRISTENING. [Notes] [1789]
[By GEORGE PARKER in Life's Painter of Variegated Characters].
I
Bess Tatter, of Hedge-lane, To ragman Joey's joy, The cull with whom she snooz'd [1] Brought forth a chopping boy: Which was, as one might say, The moral of his dad, sir; And at the christ'ning oft, A merry bout they had, sir.
II
For, when 'twas four weeks old, Long Ned, and dust-cart Chloe, To give the kid a name, Invited were by Joey; With whom came muzzy Tom, [2] And sneaking Snip, the boozer, [3] Bag-picking, blear-ey'd Ciss, And squinting Jack, the bruiser. [4]
III
Likewise came bullying Sam, With cat's-and-dog's-meat Nelly, Young Smut, the chimney-sweep, And smiling snick-snack Willy; Peg Swig and Jenny Gog, The brims, with birdlime fingers, [5] Brought warbling, seedy Dick, The prince of ballad-singers.
IV
The guests now being met, The first thing that was done, sir, Was handling round the kid, That all might smack his muns, sir; [6] A flash of lightning next, [7] Bess tipt each cull and frow, sir, [8] Ere they to church did pad, [9] To have it christen'd Joe, sir.
V
Away they then did trudge; But such a queer procession, Of seedy brims and kids, Is far beyond expression. The christ'ning being o'er, They back again soon pik't it, [10] To have a dish of lap, [11] Prepar'd for those who lik't it.
VI
Bung all come back once more They slobber'd little Joey; [12] Then, with some civil jaw, [13] Part squatted, to drink bohea, And part swig'd barley swipes, [14] As short-cut they were smoaking, [15] While some their patter flash'd [16] In gallows fun and joking. [17]
VII
For supper, Joey stood, To treat these curious cronies; A bullock's melt, hog's maw Sheep's heads, and stale polonies: And then they swill'd gin-hot, Until blind drunk as Chloe, At twelve, all bundled from The christ'ning of young Joey.
[1: man] [2: muddled] [3: drunkard] [4: pugilist] [5: harlots; thievish] [6: kiss him] [7: drop of gin] [8: gave; man; woman] [9: walk] [10: went] [11: tea] [12: kissed] [13: words] [14: drank beer] [15: tobacco] [16: talked] [17: screaming]
THE MASQUERADERS: OR, THE WORLD AS IT WAGS [Notes] [1789]
[By GEORGE PARKER in Life's Painter of Variegated Characters].
I
Ye flats, sharps, and rum ones, who make up this pother; Who gape and stare, just like stuck pigs at each other, As mirrors, wherein, at full length do appear, Your follies reflected so apish and queer Tol de rol, etc.
II
Attend while I sings, how, in ev'ry station, Masquerading is practised throughout ev'ry nation: Some mask for mere pleasure, but many we know, To lick in the rhino, false faces will show. [1] Tol de rol, etc.
III
Twig counsellors jabb'ring 'bout justice and law, Cease greasing their fist and they'll soon cease their jaw; [2] And patriots, 'bout freedom will kick up a riot, Till their ends are all gain'd, and their jaws then are quiet. Tol de rol, etc.
IV
Twig methodist phizzes, with mask sanctimonious, [3] Their rigs prove to judge that their phiz is erroneous. [4] Twig lank-jaws, the miser, that skin-flint old elf, From his long meagre phiz, who'd think he'd the pelf. Tol de rol, etc.
V
Twig levees, they're made up of time-sarving faces, With fawning and flatt'ring for int'rest and places; And ladies appear too at court and elsewhere, In borrow'd complexions, false shapes, and false hair. Tol de rol, etc.
VI
Twig clergyman—but as there needs no more proof My chaunt I concludes, and shall now pad the hoof; [5] So nobles and gents, lug your counterfeits out, I'll take brums or cut ones, and thank you to boot. Tol de rol, etc.
[1money] [2bribing] [3See] [4methods] [5walk away]
THE FLASH MAN OF ST. GILES [Notes] [b. 1790]
[From The Busy Bee].
I was a flash man of St. Giles, [1] And I fell in love with Nelly Stiles; And I padded the hoof for many miles [2] To show the strength of my flame: In the Strand, and at the Admiralty, She pick'd up the flats as they pass'd by, [3] And I mill'd their wipes from their side clye, [4] And then sung fal de ral tit, tit fal de ral, Tit fal de ree, and then sung fal de ral tit!
II
The first time I saw the flaming mot, [5] Was at the sign of the Porter Pot, I call'd for some purl, and we had it hot, With gin and bitters too! We threw off our slang at high and low, [6] And we were resolv'd to breed a row For we both got as drunk as David's sow, [7] And then sung fal de ral tit, etc.
III
As we were roaring forth a catch, ('Twas twelve o'clock) we wak'd the watch, I at his jazy made a snatch, [8] And try'd for to nab his rattle! [9] But I miss'd my aim and down I fell, And then he charg'd both me and Nell, And bundled us both to St. Martin's cell Where we sung fal de ral tit, etc.
IV
We pass'd the night in love away, And 'fore justice H— we went next day, And because we could not three hog pay, [10] Why we were sent to quod! [11] In quod we lay three dismal weeks, Till Nell with crying swell'd her cheeks, And I damn'd the quorum all for sneaks And then sung fal de ral tit, etc.
V
From Bridewell bars we now are free, And Nell and I so well agree, That we live in perfect harmony, And grub and bub our fill! [12] For we have mill'd a precious go [13] And queer'd the flats at thrums, E, O, Every night in Titmouse Row, Where we sing fal de ral tit, etc.
VI
All you who live at your wit's end, Unto this maxim pray attend, Never despair to find a friend, While flats have bit aboard! For Nell and I now keep a gig, And look so grand, so flash and big, We roll in every knowing rig [14] While we sing fal de ral tit, etc.
[1: Notes] [2: walked] [3: victims] [4: stole handkerchiefs; side pocket] [5: girl, whore] [6: talking noisily] [7: Notes] [8: wig] [9: steal] [10: shilling] [11: prison] [12: eat and drink] [13: made a rich haul] [14: are up to every move]
A LEARY MOT [Notes] [c. 1811]
[A broadside ballad].
I
Rum old Mog was a leary flash mot, and she was round and fat, [1] With twangs in her shoes, a wheelbarrow too, and an oilskin round her hat; A blue bird's-eye o'er dairies fine— as she mizzled through Temple Bar, [2] Of vich side of the way, I cannot say, but she boned it from a Tar— [3] Singing, tol-lol-lol-lido.
II
Now Moll's flash com-pan-ion was a Chick-lane gill, and he garter'd below his knee, [4] He had twice been pull'd, and nearly lagg'd, [5] but got off by going to sea; With his pipe and quid, and chaunting voice, "Potatoes!" he would cry; For he valued neither cove nor swell, for he had wedge snug in his cly [6] Singing, tol-lol-lol-lido.
III
One night they went to a Cock-and-Hen Club, [7] at the sign of the Mare and Stallion, But such a sight was never seen as Mog and her flash com-pan-ion; Her covey was an am'rous blade, and he buss'd young Bet on the sly, [8] When Mog up with her daddle, bang-up to the mark, [9] and she black'd the Bunter's eye. [10] Singing, tol-lol-lol-lido.
IV
Now this brought on a general fight, Lord, what a gallows row— [11] With whacks and thumps throughout the night, till "drunk as David's sow"— [12] Milling up and down—with cut heads, and lots of broken ribs, [13] But the lark being over—they ginned themselves at jolly Tom Cribb's. Singing, tol-lol-lol-lido.
[1: woman or harlot] [2: Silk-handkerchief; Notes; paps; went] [3: stole] [4: sweetheart] [5: gaoled; transported] [6: money; pocket] [7: Notes] [8: kissed] [9: fist; straight to the spot] [10: rag-gatherer] [11: great shindy] [12: Notes] [13: fighting]
"THE NIGHT BEFORE LARRY WAS STRETCHED" [Notes] [c; 1816]
I
The night before Larry was stretch'd, The boys they all paid him a visit; A bit in their sacks, too, they fetch'd— They sweated their duds till they riz it; [1] For Larry was always the lad, When a friend was condemn'd to the squeezer, [2] But he'd pawn, all the togs that he had, [3] Just to help the poor boy to a sneezer, [4] And moisten his gob 'fore he died.
II
''Pon my conscience, dear Larry', says I, 'I'm sorry to see you in trouble, And your life's cheerful noggin run dry, And yourself going off like its bubble!' 'Hould your tongue in that matter,' says he; 'For the neckcloth I don't care a button, [5] And by this time to-morrow you'll see Your Larry will be dead as mutton: All for what? 'Kase his courage was good!'
III
The boys they came crowding in fast; They drew their stools close round about him, Six glims round his coffin they placed— [6] He couldn't be well waked without 'em, I ax'd if he was fit to die, Without having duly repented? Says Larry, 'That's all in my eye, And all by the clargy invented, To make a fat bit for themselves.
IV
Then the cards being called for, they play'd, Till Larry found one of them cheated;
Quick he made a hard rap at his head— The lad being easily heated, 'So ye chates me bekase I'm in grief! O! is that, by the Holy, the rason? Soon I'll give you to know you d—d thief! That you're cracking your jokes out of sason, And scuttle your nob with my fist'.
V
Then in came the priest with his book He spoke him so smooth and so civil; Larry tipp'd him a Kilmainham look, [7] And pitch'd his big wig to the devil. Then raising a little his head, To get a sweet drop of the bottle, And pitiful sighing he said, 'O! the hemp will be soon round my throttle, And choke my poor windpipe to death!'
VI
So mournful these last words he spoke, We all vented our tears in a shower; For my part, I thought my heart broke To see him cut down like a flower! On his travels we watch'd him next day, O, the hangman I thought I could kill him! Not one word did our poor Larry say, Nor chang'd till he came to King William; [8] Och, my dear! then his colour turned white.
VII
When he came to the nubbing-cheat, He was tack'd up so neat and so pretty; The rambler jugg'd off from his feet, [9] And he died with his face to the city. He kick'd too, but that was all pride, For soon you might see 'twas all over; And as soon as the nooze was untied, Then at darkey we waked him in clover, [10] And sent him to take a ground-sweat. [11]
[1: pawned their clothes] [2: gallows or rope] [3: clothes] [4: drink] [5: halter] [6: candles] [7: Notes] [8: Notes] [9: cart] [10: night] [11: buried him]
THE SONG OF THE YOUNG PRIG [Notes] [c. 1819]
My mother she dwelt in Dyot's Isle, [1] One of the canting crew, sirs; [2] And if you'd know my father's style, He was the Lord-knows-who, sirs! I first held horses in the street, But being found defaulter, Turned rumbler's flunkey for my meat, [3] So was brought up to the halter. Frisk the cly, and fork the rag, [4] Draw the fogies plummy, [5] Speak to the rattles, bag the swag, [6] And finely hunt the dummy. [7]
II
My name they say is young Birdlime, My fingers are fish-hooks, sirs; And I my reading learnt betime, [8] From studying pocket-books, sirs; I have a sweet eye for a plant, [9] And graceful as I amble, Finedraw a coat-tail sure I can't So kiddy is my famble. [10] Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.
III
A night bird oft I'm in the cage, [11] But my rum-chants ne'er fail, sirs; The dubsman's senses to engage, [12] While I tip him leg-bail, sirs; [13] There's not, for picking, to be had, A lad so light and larky, [14] The cleanest angler on the pad [15] In daylight or the darkey. [16] Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.
IV
And though I don't work capital, [17] And do not weigh my weight, sirs; Who knows but that in time I shall, For there's no queering fate, sirs. [18] If I'm not lagged to Virgin-nee, [19] I may a Tyburn show be, [20] Perhaps a tip-top cracksman be, [21] Or go on the high toby. [22] Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.
[1: Notes] [2: beggars] [3: hackney-coach] [4: pick a pocket; lay hold of notes or money] [5: steal handkerchiefs dextrously] [6: steal a watch, pocket the plunder] [7: steal pocket-books] [8: Notes] [9: an intended robbery] [10: skilful is my hand] [11: lock-up] [12: gaoler] [13: run away] [14: frolicsome] [15: expert pickpocket] [16: night] [17: Notes] [18: getting the better of] [19: transported [Notes]] [20: be hanged] [21: housebreaker] [22: become a highwayman]
THE MILLING-MATCH [Notes] [1819]
[By THOMAS MOORE in Tom Crib's Memorial to Congress:—"Account of the Milling-match between Entellus and Dares, translated from the Fifth Book of the Aeneid by One of the Fancy"].
With daddles high upraised, and nob held back, [1] In awful prescience of the impending thwack, Both kiddies stood—and with prelusive spar, [2] And light manoeuvring, kindled up the war! The One, in bloom of youth—a light-weight blade— The Other, vast, gigantic, as if made, Express, by Nature, for the hammering trade; [3] But aged, slow, with stiff limbs, tottering much, And lungs, that lack'd the bellows-mender's touch. Yet, sprightly to the scratch, both Buffers came, [4] While ribbers rung from each resounding frame, And divers digs, and many a ponderous pelt, Were on their broad bread-baskets heard and felt. [5] With roving aim, but aim that rarely miss'd Round lugs and ogles flew the frequent fist; [6] While showers of facers told so deadly well, That the crush'd jaw-bones crackled as they fell! But firmly stood Entellus—and still bright, Though bent by age, with all the Fancy's light, [7] Stopp'd with a skill, and rallied with a fire The immortal Fancy could alone inspire! While Dares, shifting round, with looks of thought. An opening to the cove's huge carcass sought (Like General Preston, in that awful hour, When on one leg he hopp'd to—take the Tower!), And here, and there, explored with active fin, And skilful feint, some guardless pass to win, And prove a boring guest when once let in. And now Entellus, with an eye that plann'd Punishing deeds, high raised his heavy hand; But ere the sledge came down, young Dares spied Its shadow o'er his brow, and slipped aside— So nimbly slipp'd, that the vain nobber pass'd Through empty air; and He, so high, so vast, Who dealt the stroke, came thundering to the ground!— Not B-ck—gh-m himself, with balkier sound, Uprooted from the field of Whiggist glories, Fell souse, of late, among the astonish'd Tories! Instant the ring was broke, and shouts and yells From Trojan Flashmen and Sicilian Swells Fill'd the wide heaven—while, touch'd with grief to see His pall, well-known through many a lark and spree, [8] Thus rumly floor'd, the kind Ascestes ran, [9] And pitying rais'd from earth the game old man. Uncow'd, undamaged to the sport he came, His limbs all muscle, and his soul all flame. The memory of his milling glories past, [10] The shame that aught but death should see him grass'd. All fired the veteran's pluck—with fury flush'd, Full on his light-limb'd customer he rush'd,— And hammering right and left, with ponderous swing [11] Ruffian'd the reeling youngster round the ring— Nor rest, nor pause, nor breathing-time was given But, rapid as the rattling hail from heaven Beats on the house-top, showers of Randall's shot Around the Trojan's lugs fell peppering hot! 'Till now Aeneas, fill'd with anxious dread, Rush'd in between them, and, with words well-bred, Preserved alike the peace and Dares' head, Both which the veteran much inclined to break— Then kindly thus the punish'd youth bespake: "Poor Johnny Raw! what madness could impel So rum a Flat to face so prime a Swell? See'st thou not, boy, the Fancy, heavenly maid, Herself descends to this great Hammerer's aid, And, singling him from all her flash adorers, Shines in his hits, and thunders in his floorers? Then, yield thee, youth,—nor such a spooney be, To think mere man can mill a Deity!" Thus spoke the chief—and now, the scrimmage o'er, His faithful pals the done-up Dares bore Back to his home, with tottering gams, sunk heart, And muns and noddle pink'd in every part. While from his gob the guggling claret gush'd [12] And lots of grinders, from their sockets crush'd [13] Forth with the crimson tide in rattling fragments rush'd!
[1: hands; head] [2: fellows, usually young fellows] [3: pugilism] [4: men] [5: stomachs] [6: ears and eyes] [7: [Notes]] [8: friend; frolic] [9: heavily] [10: fighting] [11: dealing blows] [12: blood] [13: teeth]
YA-HIP, MY HEARTIES! [1819]
[From MOORE'S Tom Crib's Memorial to Congress:—"Sung by Jack Holmes, the Coachman, at a late Masquerade in St Giles's, in the character of Lord C—st—e—on ... This song which was written for him by Mr. Gregson, etc."].
I
I first was hired to peg a Hack [1] They call "The Erin" sometime back, Where soon I learned to patter flash, [2] To curb the tits, and tip the lash— [3] Which pleased the Master of The Crown So much, he had me up to town, And gave me lots of quids a year, [4] To tool "The Constitutions" here. [5] So, ya-hip, hearties, here am I That drive the Constitution Fly.
II
Some wonder how the Fly holds out, So rotten 'tis, within, without; So loaded too, through thick and thin, And with such heavy creturs IN. But, Lord, 't will last our time—or if The wheels should, now and then, get stiff, Oil of Palm's the thing that, flowing, [6] Sets the naves and felloes going. So ya-hip, Hearties! etc.
III
Some wonder, too, the tits that pull This rum concern along, so full, Should never back or bolt, or kick The load and driver to Old Nick. But, never fear, the breed, though British, Is now no longer game or skittish; Except sometimes about their corn, Tamer Houghnhums ne'er were born. So ya-hip, Hearties, etc.
IV
And then so sociably we ride!— While some have places, snug, inside, Some hoping to be there anon. Through many a dirty road hang on. And when we reach a filthy spot (Plenty of which there are, God wot), You'd laugh to see with what an air We take the spatter—each his share. So ya-hip, Hearties! etc.
[1: drive a hackney-coach] [2: talk slang] [3: horses; whip] [4: money] [5: drive] [6: money]
SONNETS FOR THE FANCY: AFTER THE MANNER OF PETRARCH [Notes] [c. 1824]
[From Boxiana, iii. 621. 622].
Education.
A link-boy once, Dick Hellfinch stood the grin, At Charing Cross he long his toil apply'd; "Here light, here light! your honours for a win," [1] To every cull and drab he loudly cried. [2] In Leicester Fields, as most the story know, "Come black your worship for a single mag," [3] And while he shin'd his Nelly suck'd the bag, [4] And thus they sometimes stagg'd a precious go. [5] In Smithfield, too, where graziers' flats resort, He loiter'd there to take in men of cash, With cards and dice was up to ev'ry sport, And at Saltpetre Bank would cut a dash; A very knowing rig in ev'ry gang, [6] Dick Hellfinch was the pick of all the slang. [7]
Progress.
His Nell sat on Newgate steps, and scratch'd her poll, Her eyes suffus'd with tears, and bung'd with gin; The Session's sentence wrung her to the soul, Nor could she lounge the gag to shule a win; The knowing bench had tipp'd her buzer queer, [8] For Dick had beat the hoof upon the pad, Of Field, or Chick-lane—was the boldest lad That ever mill'd the cly, or roll'd the leer. [9] And with Nell he kept a lock, to fence, and tuz, And while his flaming mot was on the lay, With rolling kiddies, Dick would dive and buz, And cracking kens concluded ev'ry day; [10] But fortune fickle, ever on the wheel, Turn'd up a rubber, for these smarts to feel.
Triumph.
Both'ring the flats assembled round the quod, [11] The queerum queerly smear'd with dirty black; [12] The dolman sounding, while the sheriff's nod, Prepare the switcher to dead book the whack, While in a rattle sit two blowens flash, [13] Salt tears fast streaming from each bungy eye; To nail the ticker, or to mill the cly [14] Through thick and thin their busy muzzlers splash, The mots lament for Tyburn's merry roam, That bubbl'd prigs must at the New Drop fall, [15] And from the start the scamps are cropp'd at home; All in the sheriff's picture frame the call [16] Exalted high, Dick parted with his flame, And all his comrades swore that he dy'd game.
[1: penny] [2: man; woman] [3: half-penny] [4: spent the money] [5: made a lot of money] [6: cute fellow] [7: i.e. fraternity] [8: sentenced the pick-pocket] [9: picked pockets] [10: burgling] [11: goal] [12: gallows] [13: coach; women] [14: steal a watch; pick a pocket] [15: Newgate] [16: hangman's noose]
THE TRUE BOTTOM'D BOXER [1825]
[By J. JONES in Universal Songster, ii. 96]. Air: "Oh! nothing in life can sadden us."
I
Spring's the boy for a Moulsey-Hurst rig, my lads, Shaking a flipper, and milling a pate; Fibbing a nob is most excellent gig, my lads, Kneading the dough is a turn-out in state. Tapping the claret to him is delighting, Belly-go-firsters and clicks of the gob; For where are such joys to be found as in fighting, And measuring mugs for a chancery job: With flipping and milling, and fobbing and nobbing, With belly-go-firsters and kneading the dough, With tapping of claret, and clipping and gobbing, Say just what you please, you must own he's the go.
II
Spring's the boy for flooring and flushing it, Hitting and stopping, advance and retreat, For taking and giving, for sparring and rushing it, And will ne'er say enough, till he's down right dead beat; No crossing for him, true courage and bottom all, You'll find him a rum un, try on if you can; You shy-cocks, he shows 'em no favour, 'od rot 'em all, When he fights he trys to accomplish his man; With giving and taking, and flooring and flushing, With hitting and stopping, huzza to the ring, With chancery suiting, and sparring and rushing, He's the champion of fame, and of manhood the spring.
III
Spring's the boy for rum going and coming it, Smashing and dashing, and tipping it prime, Eastward and westward, and sometimes back-slumming it, He's for the scratch, and come up too in time; For the victualling-office no favor he'll ask it, For smeller and ogles he feels just the same; At the pipkin to point, or upset the bread-basket, He's always in twig, and bang-up for the game; With going and tipping, and priming and timing 'Till groggy and queery, straight-forwards the rig; With ogles and smellers, no piping and chiming, You'll own he's the boy that is always in twig.
BOBBY AND HIS MARY [Notes] [1826]
[From Universal Songster, iii. 108]. Tune—Dulce Domum.
In Dyot-street a booze-ken stood, [1] Oft sought by foot-pads weary, And long had been the blest abode Of Bobby, and his Mary. For her he'd nightly pad the hoof, [2] And gravel tax collect [3] For her he never shammed the snite. Though traps tried to detect him; [4] When darkey came he sought his home While she, distracted blowen [5] She hailed his sight, And, ev'ry night The booze-ken rung As they sung, O, Bobby and his Mary.
II
But soon this scene of cozey fuss Was changed to prospects queering The blunt ran shy, and Bobby brush'd, [6] To get more rag not fearing; [7] To Islington he quickly hied, A traveller there he dropped on; The traps were fly, his rig they spied [8] And ruffles soon they popped on. [9] When evening came, he sought not home, While she, poor stupid woman, Got lushed that night, [10] Oh, saw his sprite, Then heard the knell That bids farewell! Then heard the knell Of St. Pulchre's bell! [11] Now he dangles on the Common.
[1: Notes; ale-house] [2: walk around] [3: rob passers-by] [4: police] [5: girl] [6: money; went off] [7: notes or gold] [8: object] [9: handcuffs] [10: drunk] [11: Notes]
FLASHEY JOE [Notes] [1826]
[By R. MORLEY in Universal Songster, ii. 194].
I
As Flashey Joe one day did pass Through London streets, so jolly, A crying fish, he spied a lass 'Twas Tothill's pride, sweet Molly! He wip'd his mug with bird's-eye blue [1] He cried,—"Come, buss your own dear Joe"; [2] She turned aside, alas! 'tis true And bawled out—"Here's live mackerel, O! Four a shilling, mackerel, O! All alive, O! New mackerel, O."
II
Says I,—"Miss Moll, don't tip this gam, [3] You knows as how it will not do; For you I milled flash Dustman Sam [4] Who made your peepers black and blue. [5] Vhy, then you swore you would be kind But you have queer'd so much of late, [6] And always changing like the wind, So now I'll brush and sell my skate." [7] Buy my skate, etc.
III
She blubb'd—"Now, Joe, vhy treat me ill? You know I love you as my life! When I forsook both Sam and Will, And promised to become your wife, You molled it up with Brick-dust Sall [8] And went to live with her in quod! [9] So I'll pike off with my mack'ral [10] And you may bolt with your salt cod." Here's mack'rel, etc.
IV
I could not part with her, d'ye see So I tells Moll to stop her snivel; [11] "Your panting bubs and glist'ning eye [12] Just make me love you like the divil." "Vhy, then," says she, "come tip's your dad, [13] And let us take a drap of gin, And may I choke with hard-roed shad If I forsake my Joe Herring." Four a shilling, etc.
[1: mouth; silk handkerchief] [2: kiss] [3: talk like that] [4: fought] [5: eyes] [6: acted strangely] [7: be off] [8: took as a mistress] [9: gaol] [10: walk] [11: crying] [12: paps] [13: shake hands]
MY MUGGING MAID [Notes] [1826]
[By JAMES BRUTON. Universal Songster, iii. 103].
I
Why lie ye in that ditch, so snug, With s— and filth bewrayed [1] With hair all dangling down thy lug [2] My mugging maid? II
Say, mugging Moll, why that red-rag [3] Which oft hath me dismayed Why is it now so mute in mag, [4] My mugging maid?
II
Why steals the booze down through thy snout, [5] With mulberry's blue arrayed, And why from throat steals hiccough out My mugging maid?
IV
Why is thy mug so wan and blue, [6] In mud and muck you're laid; Say, what's the matter now with you My mugging maid?
V
The flask that in her fam appeared [7] The snore her conk betrayed, [8] Told me, that Hodge's max had queered [9] My mugging maid.
[1: Notes] [2: ear] [3: tongue] [4: speech] [5: drink] [6: mouth] [7: hand] [8: nose] [9: Notes; got the better of]
POOR LUDDY [Notes] [b. 1826]
[By T. DIBDIN. Universal Songster, Vol. iii].
As I was walking down the Strand, Luddy, Luddy, Ah, poor Luddy, I. O. As I was walking down the Strand, The traps they nabbed me out of hand [1] Luddy, Luddy, Ah, poor Luddy, I. O. As I was walking, etc.
Said I, kind justice, pardon me, Luddy, Luddy, Ah, poor Luddy, I. O. Said I, kind justice, pardon me, Or Botany-Bay I soon shall see Luddy, Luddy, Ah, poor Luddy, I. O. Said I, kind justice, etc.
Sessions and 'sizes are drawing nigh, Luddy, Luddy, Ah, poor Luddy, I. O. Sessions and 'sizes are drawing nigh, I'd rather you was hung than I. Luddy, Luddy, Ah, poor Luddy, I. O. Sessions and 'sizes, etc.
[1: police; arrested]
THE PICKPOCKET'S CHAUNT [Notes] [1829]
[By W. MAGINN: being a translation of Vidocq's song, "En roulant de vergne en vergne"].
I
As from ken to ken I was going, [1] Doing a bit on the prigging lay, [2] Who should I meet but a jolly blowen, [3] Tol lol, lol lol, tol dirol lay; Who should I meet but a jolly blowen, Who was fly to the time of day. [4]
II
Who should I meet but a jolly blowen, Who was fly to the time of day, I pattered in flash like a covey knowing, [5] Tol, lol, etc. 'Ay, bub or grubby, I say?' [6]
III
I pattered in flash like a covey knowing, 'Ay, bub or grubby, I say?" 'Lots of gatter,' says she, is flowing [7] Tol lol, etc. Lend me a lift in the family way. [8]
IV
Lots of gatter, says she, is flowing Lend me a lift in the family way. You may have a crib to stow in. Tol lol, etc. Welcome, my pal, as the flowers in May.
V
You may have a crib to stow in, Welcome, my pal, as the flowers in May. To her ken at once I go in Tol lol, etc. Where in a corner out of the way,
VI
To her ken at once I go in. Where in a corner out of the way With his smeller a trumpet blowing [9] Tol lol, etc. A regular swell cove lushy lay. [10]
VII
With his smeller a trumpet blowing A regular swell cove lushy lay, To his clies my hooks I throw in [11] Tol lol, etc. And collar his dragons clear away. [12]
VIII
To his clies my hooks I throw in, And collar his dragons clear away Then his ticker I set agoing, [13] Tol lol, etc. And his onions, chain, and key. [14]
IX
Then his ticker I set a going And his onions, chain, and key Next slipt off his bottom clo'ing, Tol lol, etc. And his ginger head topper gay. [15]
X
Next slipt off his bottom clo'ing And his ginger head topper gay. Then his other toggery stowing, [16] Tol lol, etc. All with the swag I sneak away. [17]
XI
Then his other toggery stowing All with the swag I sneak away. Tramp it, tramp it, my jolly blowen, Tol lol, etc. Or be grabbed by the beaks we may. [18]
XII
Tramp it, tramp it, my jolly blowen Or be grabbed by the beaks we may. And we shall caper a-heel and toeing, Tol lol, etc. A Newgate hornpipe some fine day. [19]
XIII
And we shall caper a-heel and toeing A Newgate hornpipe some fine day With the mots their ogles throwing [20] Tol lol, etc. And old Cotton humming his pray. [21]
XIV
With the mots their ogles throwing And old Cotton humming his pray, And the fogle hunters doing Tol lol, etc. Their morning fake in the prigging lay.
[1: shop; house] [2: thieving] [3: girl, strumpet, sweetheart] [4: 'cute in business] [5: spoke in slang] [6: drink and food] [7: porter, beer] [8: family = fraternity of thieves] [9: nose] [10: gentleman; drunk] [11: pockets; fingers] [12: take his sovereigns] [13: watch] [14: seals] [15: hat] [16: clothes] [17: plunder] [18: taken; police] [19: hanging] [20: girl's; eyes] [21: Notes]
ON THE PRIGGING LAY [Notes] [1829]
[By H. T. R....: a translation of a French Slang song ("Un jour a la Croix Rouge") in Vidocq's Memoirs, 1828-9, 4 vols.]
I
Ten or a dozen "cocks of the game," [1] On the prigging lay to the flash-house came, [2] Lushing blue ruin and heavy wet [3] Till the darkey, when the downy set. [4] All toddled and begun the hunt For readers, tattlers, fogies, or blunt. [5]
II
Whatever swag we chance for to get, [6] All is fish that comes to net: Mind your eye, and draw the yokel, Don't disturb or use the folk ill. Keep a look out, if the beaks are nigh, [7] And cut your stick, before they're fly. [8]
III
As I vas a crossing St James's Park I met a swell, a well-togg'd spark. [9] I stops a bit: then toddled quicker, For I'd prigged his reader, drawn his ticker; [10] Then he calls—"Stop thief!" thinks I, my master, That's a hint to me to mizzle faster. [11]
IV
When twelve bells chimed, the prigs returned, [12] And rapped at the ken of Uncle ——: [13] "Uncle, open the door of your crib If you'd share the swag, or have one dib. [14] Quickly draw the bolt of your ken, Or we'll not shell out a mag, old ——." [15]
V
Then says Uncle, says he, to his blowen, [16] "D'ye twig these coves, my mot so knowing? [17] Are they out-and-outers, dearie? [18] Are they fogle-hunters, or cracksmen leary? [19] Are they coves of the ken, d'ye know? [20] Shall I let 'em in, or tell 'em to go?"
VI
"Oh! I knows 'em now; hand over my breeches— I always look out for business—vich is A reason vy a man should rouse At any hour for the good of his house, The top o' the morning, gemmen all, [21] And for vot you vants, I begs you'll call."
VII
But now the beaks are on the scene, [22] And watched by moonlight where we went:— Stagged us a toddling into the ken, [23] And were down upon us all; and then Who should I spy but the slap-up spark [24] What I eased of the swag in St James's Park. [25]
VIII
There's a time, says King Sol, to dance and sing; I know there's a time for another thing: There's a time to pipe, and a time to snivel— I wish all Charlies and beaks at the divel: [26] For they grabbed me on the prigging lay, And I know I'm booked for Bot'ny Bay. [27] |
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