"But what do I stand tattling of such idle toyes?

I had better go to Smith-Field to play among the boyes: But you cheating and deceiving lads, with your base artillery, I would wish you to shun Newgate, and withall the pillory.

"And some there be in patcht gownes, I know not what they be, That pinch the country-man with nimming of a fee; For where they get a booty, they'le make him pay so dear, They'le entertain more in a day, then he shall in a year.

"Which makes them trim up houses made of brick and stone, And poor men go a begging, when house and land is gone.

Some there be with both hands will swear they will not dally, Till they have turn'd all upside down, as many use to sally.

"You pedlers, give good measure, when as your wares you sell: Tho' your yard be short, your thumb will slip your tricks I know full well.

And you that sell your wares by weight, and live upon the trade, Some beams be false, some waits too light; such tricks there have been plaid.

"But small coals, or great coals!

I have them on my back: The goose lies in the bottom; you may hear the duck cry quack.

Thus Grim the black collier, whose living is so loose, As he doth walk the commons ore, sometimes he steals a goose.

"Thou usurer with thy money bags that livest so at ease, By gaping after gold thou dost thy mighty G.o.d displease; And for thy greedy usury, and thy great extortion, Except thou dost repent thy sins, h.e.l.l fire will be thy portion.

"For first I came to Houns-Ditch, then round about I creep, Where cruelty was crowned chief and pity fast asleep: Where usury gets profit, and brokers bear the bell.

Oh, fie upon this deadly sin!

it sinks the soul to h.e.l.l.

"The man that sweeps the chimneys with the bush of thorns, And on his neck a trusse of poles tipped all with horns, With care he is not c.u.mbered, he liveth not in dread?

For though he wear them on his pole, some wear them on their head.

"The landlord with his racking rents turns poor men out of dore; Their children go a begging where they have spent their store.

I hope none is offended with that which is endited If any be, let him go home and take a pen and write it.

"Buy a trap, a mouse trap, a torment for fleas!

The hangman works but half the day; he lives too much at ease.

Come let us leave this boyes play and idle prittle prat, And let us go to nine holes, to spurn-point, or to cat.

"Oh! you nimble fingered lads that live upon your wits, Take heed of Tyburn ague, for they be dangerous fits; For many a proper man, for to supply his lack, Doth leap a leap at Tyburn, which makes his neck to crack.

"And to him that writ this song I give this simple lot: Let every one be ready to give him half a pot.

And thus I do conclude, wishing both health and peace To those that are laid in their bed, and cannot sleep for fleas.

W. TURNER"

The "tink, terry tink" of the Tinker's "Cry" is preserved in a Miscellany of the year 1667, called "_Catch that Catch Can; or, the Musical Champion_."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"The Tinker.

"Have you any work for a tinker, mistriss?

Old bra.s.s, old pots, or kettles?

I'll mend them all with a tink, terry tink, And never hurt your mettles.

First let me have but a touch of your ale, 'Twill steel me against cold weather, Or tinkers frees, Or vintners lees, Or tobacco chuse you whether.

But of your ale, Your nappy ale, I would I had a ferkin, For I am old And very cold And never wear a jerkin."

The tinker's "Cry" forms the opening lines of "Clout the Cauldron," one of the best of our old Scottish songs:--

"'Hae ye ony pots or pans, Or any broken chanlers,'

I am a tinker to my trade, And newly come from Flanders."

But the song is so well known to all who take an interest in our northern minstrelsy, and is to be found, moreover, in every good collection of Scottish Songs, that it is enough to refer to it.

Honest John Bunyan was a travelling tinker originally. Reader! just for a moment fancy the inspired author--poet we may call him--of "_The Pilgrim's Progress_," crying the "cry" of his trade through the streets of Bedford, thus--"_Mistress, have you any work for the tinker? pots, pans, kettles I mend, old bra.s.s, lead or old copper I buy. Anything in my way to-day, maids?_" While at the same time, through his brain was floating visions of Vanity Fair, the Holy War, the Slough of Despond, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the Barren Fig Tree, the Water of Life, &c. beneath the long head of hair, s.h.a.ggy and dirty, too, as a tinker's generally is.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOT CODLINGS:--_A Catch_.]

This will be found in "_Windsor Drollery_," and, with music for three voices, by Thomas Holmes, in John Hilton's "_Catch that Catch Can_;" and also Walsh's "_Catch Club_." Part II., p. 25.

"Have you observ'd the wench in the street, She's scarce any hose or shoes to her feet; And when she cries, she sings, 'I have hot Codlings, hot Codlings.'

"Or have you ever seen or heard, The mortal with his Lyon tauny beard!

He lives as merrily as heart can wish, And still he cries, 'Buy a brush, buy a brush.'

"Since these are merry, why should we take care?

Musicians, like Camelions, must live by the Aire; Then let's be blithe and bonny, no good meeting baulk, What though we have no money, we shall find Chalk."

The best known collection of cries is "The Cryes of the City of London.

Drawne after the Life. P. Tempest, _Excudit_," a small folio volume, which when published, in 1688, consisted of only fifty plates, as the following advertis.e.m.e.nt, extracted from the _London Gazette_ of May 28-31, 1688, sufficiently proves:--

"There is now published the Cryes and Habits of London, lately drawn after the Life in great variety of Actions. Curiously Engraven upon 50 Copper plates, fit for the Ingenious and Lovers of Art. Printed and Sold by P. Tempest, over-against Somerset House, in the Strand."

Samuel Pepys, the eccentric diarist, who died 1703, left to Magdalene College, Cambridge, an invaluable collection of ballads, ma.n.u.script naval memoirs, ancient English poetry, three volumes of "Penny Merriments," and a numerous a.s.semblage of etchings and engravings. Among the latter are a number of Tempest's Cries in the first state. These are still preserved in the Pepysian Library in the same College.

In 1711 another edition of Tempest's Cries was published, containing seventy-four plates, several of which can scarcely be called cries. They are popular "London Characters" rather than "criers." As the book, however, is extremely rare, and consequently costly, and as a history of the old London Cries would be very imperfect without a particular account of Tempest's volume being made, with a few words about Mauron, who designed, and Pearce Tempest, who engraved these cries, that which follows will not, we trust, be altogether out of place. Of Mauron, we can find no better account than the notice in Walpole.

"Marcellus Mauron--sometimes spelt Lauron, was born at the Hague in 1643, and learnt to paint of his father, with whom he came when young into England. Here he was placed with one La Zoon, a portrait-painter, and then with Flesshier, but owed his chief improvement to his own application. He lived several years in Yorkshire, and when he returned again to London he had very much improved himself in his art. He drew correctly, studied nature diligently, copied closely, and so surpa.s.sed all his contemporaries in drapery, that Sir G.o.dfrey Kneller employed him to clothe his portraits.

He likewise excelled in imitating the different styles of eminent masters, executed conversation pieces of considerable merit. Several prints were made from his works, and several plates he etched and sc.r.a.ped himself. A book on fencing, and the procession at the coronation of William and Mary, were designed by him. He lived in Bow-street, Covent-garden, on the west side, about three doors up, and at the back of Sir G.o.dfrey Kneller's house in the Piazza; there he died of consumption March 11th, 1702."

Of Pearce Tempest, the engraver, the particulars collected by Vertue were so extremely slight that Horace Walpole merely enumerates him among those of whom nothing is known. It may be told of him, however, that he lived in the Strand, over-against Somerset House, and dying in 1717, was buried on the 14th of April, in the church-yard of St. Paul, Covent-garden.

The six woodcuts following are reduced copies of the engraved figures that appear in Marcellus Mauron _c.u.m_ Tempest's "The Cryes of the City of London;" first we have:--

[Ill.u.s.tration: FINE WRITING INK!]

This engraving pretty well describes the occupation of the figure represented. He carries a barrel on his back--pens in his right hand, with a pint measure and funnel at his side. But since Mauron's time the cry of "_Fine Writing Ink_" has ceased to be heard in the streets of the metropolis, so we no longer hear:--

"My ink is good--as black as jet 'Tis used by Princes--and the state, If once you venture it to try, Of this I'm sure--none else you'll buy."

[Ill.u.s.tration: BUY AN IRON FORK, OR A SHOVEL?]

The demand for such an iron fork, or such a shovel as the old woman carries is now discontinued.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TROOP, EVERY ONE, ONE!]