Source: London Labour and the London Poor
Henry Mayhew (1861)

Of the Experience of a Street Author, or Poet

I was very fond of reading poems, in my youth, as soon as I could read and understand almost. Yes, very likely, sir; perhaps it was that put it into my head to write them afterwards. Above fourteen years ago I tried to make a shilling or two by selling my verses. The first song I ever sold was to a concert-room manager. The next I sold had great success. It was called the `Demon of the Sea,' and was to the tune of `The Brave Old Oak.' It began:

Unfurl the sails,
We've easy gales;
And helmsman steer aright,
Hoist the grim death's head -
The Pirate's head -
For a vessel heaves in sight!


That song was written for a concert-room, but it was soon in the streets, and ran a whole winter. I got only 1s. for it. I'm very sorry indeed that I can't offer you copies of some of my ballads, but I haven't a single copy myself of any of them, not one, and I dare say I've written a thousand in my time, and most of them were printed. I believe 10,000 were sold of the `Husband's Dream.' It begins:

O Dermot, you look healthy now,
Your dress is neat and clean;
I never see you drunk about,
Then tell me where you've been.
Your wife and family - are they well?
You once did use them strange:
O, are you kinder to them grown,
How came this happy change?


Then Dermot tells how he dreamed of his wife's sudden death, and his childrens' misery as they cried about her dead body, while he was drunk in bed, and as he calls out in his misery, he wakes, and finds his wife by his side. The ballad ends:

I pressed her to my throbbing heart,
Whilst joyous tears did stream;
And ever since, I've heaven blest,
For sending me that dream.


Dermot turned teetotaller. The teetotallers were very much pleased with that song. The printer once sent me 5s. on account of it.

I have written all sorts of things. I've been asked to write indecent songs, but I refused. One man offered me 5s. for six such songs. - Why, that's less than the common price, said I, instead of something over to pay for the wickedness. - Live hard! yes, indeed, we do live hard. I hardly know the taste of meat. We live on bread and butter, and tea; no, not any fish. For the comings in, and what we have from the parish, must keep six of us - myself, my wife, and four children. It's a long, hard struggle.

If ever I am rich enough to provide for a tomb-stone, or my family is rich enough to give me one, this shall be my epitaph:

Stranger, pause, a moment stay,
Tread lightly o'er this mound of clay.
Here lies J - H - , in hopes to rise,
And meet his Saviour in the skies.
Christ his refuge, Heaven his home,
Where pain and sorrow never come.
His journey's done, his trouble's pest,
With God he sleeps in peace at last.

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