| “All the boys and girls around, Who go out prigging rags and phials, Know Jemmy Catsnatch!!! well, Who lives in a back slum in the Dials. He hangs out in Monmouth Court, And wears a pair of blue-black breeches, Where all the ‘Polly Cox’s crew’ do resort To chop their swag for badly printed Dying Speeches.” |
A mournful and affecting
COPY OF VERSES
on the death of
Who was barbarously and cruelly murdered by her sweetheart,
W. JONES, near Wirksworth, in Derbyshire, July, 1823.
William Jones, a young man aged 20, has been fully committed to Derby gaol for the murder of his sweetheart, under circumstances of unheard of barbarity. The poor victim was a servant girl, whom under pretense of marriage he seduced. On her proving with child the villain formed the horrid design of murdering her, and carried his diabolical plan into execution on Monday evening last. The following verses are written upon the occasion, giving a complete detail of this shocking affair:—
| Come all false hearted young men And listen to my song, ’Tis of a cruel murder, That lately has been done On the body of a maiden fair The truth I will unfold, The bare relation of this deed Will make your blood run cold. Near Wirksworth town in Derbyshire, Ann Williams she did dwell, In service she long time had lived, Till this to her befel. Her cheeks were like the blushing rose All in the month of May, Which made this wicked young man Thus unto her did say: Nancy, my charming creature, You have my heart ensnared, My love is such I am resolved To wed you I declare. Thus by his false deluding tongue Poor Nancy was beguil’d, And soon to her misfortune, By him she proved with child. Some days ago this damsel fair Did write to him with speed. Such tenderness she did express Would make a heart to bleed. She said, my dearest William, I am with child by thee; Therefore, my dear, pray let me know When you will marry me. The following day at evening, This young man did repair, Unto the town of Wirksworth, To meet his Nancy there. Saying, Nancy dear, come let us walk, Among the flowery fields, And then the secrets of my heart To you I will reveal. O then this wicked young man A knife he did provide, And all unknown to his true love Concealed it by his side. When to the fatal spot they came, These words to her did say: All on this very night I will Your precious life betray. On bended knee she then did fall, In sorrow and despair, Aloud for mercy she did call, Her cries did rend the air; With clasped hands and uplift eyes She cried, Oh spare my life, I never more will ask you To make me your wedded wife. O then this wicked young man said, No mercy will I show; He took the knife all from his side, And pierced her body through. But still she smiling said to him, While trembling with fear, Aä! William, William, spare my life, Think on your baby dear. Twice more then with the bloody knife He ran her body through, Her throat was cut from ear to ear, Most dreadful for to view; Her hands and arms and beauteous face He cut and mangled sore, While down upon her milk white breast The crimson blood did pour. He took the shawl from off her neck, And round her body tied, With pebble stones he did it fill, Thinking the crime to hide. O then into the silver stream He plunged her straightway, But with her precious blood was stained, Which soon did him betray. O then this young man taken was, And into prison sent, In ratling chains he is confin’d His crime for to lament, Until the Asizes do come on When trembling he must stand, Reflecting on the deed he’s done; Waiting the dread command. Now all you thoughtless young men A timely warning take; Likewise ye fair young maidens, For this poor damsel’s sake. And Oh beware of flattering tongues, For they’ll your ruin prove; So may you crown your future day, In comfort, joy, and love. |
Printed at J. Pitts, Wholesale Toy and Marble Warehouse, 6, Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials.
There can be little doubt that Catnach, the great publisher of the Seven Dials, next to children’s books, had his mind mostly centred upon the chronicling of doubtful scandals, fabulous duels between ladies of fashion, “cooked” assassinations, and sudden deaths of eminent individuals, apochryphal elopements, real or catch-penny accounts of murders, impossible robberies, delusive suicides, dark deeds and public executions, to which was usually attached the all-important and necessary “Sorrowful Lamentations,” or “Copy of Affectionate Verses,” which, according to the established custom, the criminal composed in the condemned cell the night before his execution, after this manner:—
| “All you that have got feeling hearts, I pray you now attend To these few lines so sad and true, a solemn silence lend; It is of a cruel murder, to you I will unfold—— The bare recital of the tale must make your blood run cold.” |