A History of the Cries of London Part 19

After hanging one hour, the body was cut down and removed within the prison.

AFFECTING COPY OF VERSES.

Attention give, both old and young, Of high and low degree, Think while this mournful tale is sung, Of my sad misery.

I've slain a master good and kind, To me has been a friend, For which I must my life resign, My time is near an end.

Oh hark! what means that dreadful sound?

It sinks deep in my soul; It is the bell that sounds my knell, How solemn is the toll.

See thousands are a.s.sembled Around the fatal place, To gaze on my approaching, And witness my disgrace.

There many sympathising hearts, Who feel another's woe, Even now appears in sorrow, For my sad overthrow.

Think of the aged man I slew, Then pity's at an end, I robb'd him of property and life, And the poor man of a friend.

Let pilfering pa.s.sions not intrude, For to lead you astray, From step to step it will delude, And bring you to dismay.

Think of the wretched Courvoisier, Who thus dies on a tree, A death of shame, I've nought to blame, But my own dishonesty.

Mercy on earth I'll not implore, To crave it would be vain, My hands are dyed with human gore, None can wash off the stain.

But the merits of a Saviour, Whose mercy alone I crave; Good Christians pray, as thus I die, I may his pardon have.

Paul & Co., Printers, 2, 3, Monmouth Court, Seven Dials.

But the gallows was not always a fruit-bearing tree, and a "stunning good murder" did not happen every day. Nevertheless the street patterer must live, and lest the increase of public virtue should condemn him to starvation, the "Seven Dials Press," stepped forward to his aid, and considerately supplied him with a species of street-literature well known to the trade as "c.o.c.ks," and which are defined in "Hotton's Slang Dictionary" thus:--

c.o.c.kS, fict.i.tious narratives, in verse or prose, of murders, fires and terrible accidents, sold in the streets as true accounts. The man who hawks them, a patterer, often changes the scene of the awful event to suit the taste of the neighbourhood he is trying to delude. Possibly a corruption of _cook_--a cooked statement, or may be "the story of a c.o.c.k and bull" may have had something to do with the term.

Improvements in newspapers, especially in those published in the evening, and increased scepticism on the part of the public have destroyed this branch of a once-flouris.h.i.+ng business.

The late Mr. Albert Smith, the humourist and novelist, has very happily hit off this style of thing in "The Man in the Moon," one of the many rivals to "Punch," and edited by that very promising son of genius, the late Angus B. Reach, 1832-56. It is ent.i.tled--

A COPY OF VERSES

_Found among the Papers of Mr. Catnach, the spirited Publisher of Seven Dials; originally intended to have been "printed and published at the Toy and Marble Warehouse, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court, Seven Dials."_

DEDICATED TO THE AUTHOR OF "LUCRETIA."

I.

_The Hero claims the attention of virtuous persons, and leads them to antic.i.p.ate a painful disclosure._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Draw hither now good people all And let my story warn, For I will tell to you a tale, What will wrend them b.r.e.a.s.t.s of yourn.

II.

_He names the place and hour of the disgraceful penalty he is about to undergo._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

I am condemn'd all for to die A death of scorn and horror; In front of Horsemonger-lane Gaol, At eight o'clock to-morrer.

III.

_He hints at his atrocity; and the ebullition produced by the mere recollection of it._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The crime of which I was found guilty, Oh! it was shocking vile; The very thoughts of the cruel deed Now makes my blood to bile.

IV.

_He speaks of the happy hours of Childhood, never more to return._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

In Somersets.h.i.+re I was born'd, And my little sister dear Didn't think then that my sad end Would be like unto this here.

V.

_The revelation of his name and profession; and subsequent avowal of his guilt._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

James Guffin is my hated name, And a footman I'm by trade; And I do confess that I did slay My poor fellow-servant maid.

VI.

_He acknowledges the justice of his sentence._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

And well I do deserve, I own, My fate which is so bitter: For 'twas most wicked for to kill So innicent a critter.

VII.

_And pictures what might have taken place but for the interference of Destiny._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Her maiden name was Sarey Leigh, And was to have been Guffin; For we was to have been marri-ed, But Fate brought that to nuffin.

VIII.

_He is particular as to the date of the occurrence._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

All on a Wednesday afternoon, On the ninth of Janivary, Eighteen hundred and forty-four, Oh! I did kill my Sarey.