Street musician, who mimics the notes of the common English birds by means of a folded bit of tin, which is held between the teeth; but in order to engage the attention of the credulous, he pretends to draw his tones from two tobacco pipes.
Musicians of this description were at one time very numerous. Gravelot, when he kept a drawing-school in the Strand, made sketches of several. One particularly picturesque, was of a blind chaunter of the old ballads of "There was a wealthy Lawyer," or "O Brave Nell," and has been admirably etched by Miller. This man accompanied his voice by playing upon a catgut string drawn over a bladder, and tied at both ends of a mop-stick; but the boys continually perplexing him by pricking his bladder, and a pampered prodigal having with a sword let out all his wind, he fortunately hit upon a mode of equally charming the ear by substituting a tin tea-canister.
PLATE XXX.
A blind chaunter of the old ballads, who accompanied his voice by playing upon a catgut string drawn over a tea canister, and tied at both ends of a mop stick.
Thomas King, a most excellent painter of conversation-scenes, who lived at the time of Hogarth, and assisted him in his large pictures of Paul before Felix in Lincoln's Inn Hall, and the Good Samaritan in Bartholomew's Hospital, has left portraits of several of these singular beings,—such as Maddox, the balancer of a straw; but particularly that of Matthew Skeggs, who played a concerto upon a broomstick, in the character of Signor Bumbasto, at the little theatre in the Haymarket. These portraits have been engraved by Houston. That of Skeggs was published by himself, at the sign of the Hoop and Bunch of Grapes, in St Alban's Street, now a part of Waterloo Place. Since their time, Mr Meadows, the comedian, has been particularly famous for his imitations of birds; and some of the lowest description of street vagabonds have produced tones by playing upon their chins with their knuckles. Another hero of the knuckle, was the famous Buckhorse, the friend of Ned Shuter, and who formerly sold sticks in Covent Garden. This fellow grew so callous to the blow of the knuckle, as to place his head firmly against a wall, and suffer, for a shilling, any wretch to strike him with his doubled fist, with all his strength, in his face, which became at last more like a Good-Friday bun than any thing human. Of this man there are many portraits.
Of Scottish, Welsh, and Irish mendicants there are now very few in London; perhaps their full number does not exceed fifty, unless by including that lower order of street-musicians who so frequently distract the harmonious ear with their droning bag-pipes, screaming clarionets, and crazy harps. These people, with match, tooth-pick, and cotton-ball venders, may be considered but as one remove from beggary.
The lowest class of the Scotch are bakers' men; the women are laundresses. The Welshmen, of whom London never had many, are principally employed by the potters of Lambeth, at which place they have an old established house of worship. It is a cheerful sight to behold their women, who are remarkable for their cleanliness, and, like the Scotch, are generally pictures of vigorous health. These will go in trains of twenty or thirty persons, from Hammersmith to Covent Garden Market, joining in one national melody, and perfuming the air with their baskets of ripe strawberries.
Of all people the poor Irish are the most anxious to gain employment, and are truly valuable examples of industry. They sleep less than other labourers; for at the dawn of day they assemble in flocks at their usual stands for hire,—namely, Whitechapel, Queen Street, Cheapside, and on the spot formerly occupied by St Giles's pound, at the ends of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road. The most laborious of them are chairmen, paviers, bricklayers' labourers, potato-gatherers, and basket-men; and, to the eternal disgrace of the commonalty of the English, these people, as well as the Scotch and Welsh, are guilty of very few excesses, particularly in that odious practice of drinking, a vice so much increased by the accommodation of seats in gin-shops, which are the first opened and last shut in London.
The Irish carry immense loads. A hod of bricks, weighing one hundred and ten pounds, is carried one hundred and twenty times at least in the course of the day, and sometimes up a ladder of the height of five stories, and all for two shillings and ninepence per day. The pavier's rammer, of more than half a hundred weight, is raised not fewer than two thousand times in the course of the day. What Englishman could do this? With respect to loads on the head, the Irish surpass all others. Leary makes nothing of carrying two hundred weight from the Fox under the Hill, near the Adelphi, to Covent Garden, many times on a market morning; and yet, extraordinary as this may appear, his feats have been more than equalled by a female. A man of the name of Eglesfield, who has sold flowers in Covent Garden for the last thirty-six years, knew an Irish girl who would often walk under the weight of two hundred pounds. He declares that she brought a load of one hundred and a half from Newgate Market to Covent Garden on her head, without once pitching, though it must be observed that this was not potato-weight, which has always one hundred and twenty-six pounds to the hundred.