University of Virginia Library

OF STREET "BALLADS ON A SUBJECT."

There is a class of ballads which may with
perfect propriety be called street ballads, as
they are written by street authors for street
singing (or chaunting) and street sale. These
effusions, however, are known in the trade by
a title appropriate enough — "Ballads on a
Subject." The most successful workers in this
branch of the profession, are the men I have
already described among the patterers and
chaunters.

The "Ballads on a Subject" are always on
a political, criminal, or exciting public event,
or one that has interested the public, and the
celerity with which one of them is written, and
then sung in the streets, is in the spirit of
"these railroad times." After any great event,
"a ballad on the subject" is often enough
written, printed, and sung in the street, in little
more than an hour. Such was the case with
a song "in honour," it was announced, "of
Lord John Russell's resignation." Of course
there is no time for either the correction of the
rhymes or of the press; but this is regarded as
of little consequence — while an early "start"
with a new topic is of great consequence, I am
assured; "yes, indeed, both for the sake of
meals and rents." If, however, the songs were
ever so carefully revised, their sale would not
be greater.

I need not treat this branch of our street
literature at any great length, as specimens of
the "Ballad on a Subject" will be found in
many of the preceding statements of paper-
workers.

It will have struck the reader that all the
street lays quoted as popular have a sort of
burthen or jingle at the end of each verse. I
was corrected, however, by a street chaunter for
speaking of this burthen as a jingle. "It's a
chorus, sir," he said. "In a proper ballad on
a subject, there's often twelve verses, none of
them under eight lines, — and there's a four-
line chorus to every verse; and, if it's the
right sort, it'll sell the ballad." I was told, on
all hands, that it was not the words that ever
"made a ballad, but the subject; and, more than
the subject, — the chorus; and, far more than
either, — the tune!" Indeed, many of the street-
singers of ballads on a subject have as supreme
a contempt for words as can be felt by any mo-
dern composer. To select a tune for a ballad,
however, is a matter of deep deliberation. To
adapt the ballad to a tune too common or popu-
lar is injudicious; for then, I was told, any one
can sing it — boys and all. To select a more
elaborate and less-known air, however appro-
priate, may not be pleasing to some of the
members of "the school" of ballad-singers, who
may feel it to be beyond their vocal powers;
neither may it be relished by the critical in
street song, whose approving criticism induces
them to purchase as well as to admire.

The license enjoyed by the court jesters, and,
in some respects, by the minstrels of old, is cer-
tainly enjoyed, undiminished, by the street-
writers and singers of ballads on a subject.
They are unsparing satirists, who, with a rare
impartiality, lash all classes and all creeds, as
well as any individual. One man, upon whose
information I can rely, told me that, eleven
years ago, he himself had "worked," in town
and country, 23 different songs at the same
period and on the same subject — the marriage
of the Queen. They all "sold," — but the most
profitable was one "as sung by Prince Albert in
character." It was to the air of the "Dusty
Miller;" and "it was good," said the ballad-
man, "because we could easily dress up to the
character given to Albert." I quote a verse:

"And what's more, sir," continued my inform-
ant, "not very long after the honeymoon, the
Duchess of L — drove up in her carriage
to the printer's, and bought all the songs in
honour of Victoria's wedding, and gave a sove-
reign for them and wouldn't take the change.
It was a duchess. Why I'm sure about it —
though I can't say whether it were the Duchess
of L — or S — ; for didn't the printer, like
an honest man, when he'd stopped the price of
the papers, hand over to us chaps the balance to
drink, and didn't we drink it! There can't be
a mistake about that."

Of street ballads on political subjects, or
upon themes which have interested the whole
general public, I need not cite additional in-
stances. There are, however, other subjects,
which, though not regarded as of great interest
by the whole body of the people are still event-
ful among certain classes, and for them the
street author and ballad-singer cater.

I first give a specimen of a ballad on a Thea-
trical Subject. The best I find, in a large
collection of these street effusions, is entitled
"Jenny Lind and Poet B." After describing
how Mr. Bunn "flew to Sweden" and engaged
Miss Lind, the poet proceeds, — the tune being
"Lucy Long":

I am inclined to think — though I know it to
be an unusual case — that in this theatrical ballad
the street poet was what is tenderly called a
"plagiarist." I was assured by a chaunter that
it was written by a street author, — but probably
the chaunter was himself in error or forget-
fulness.

Next, there is the Ballad on a Civic Subject.
In the old times the Lord Mayor had his
laureate. This writer, known as "poet to the
City of London," eulogised all lord mayors, and
glorified all civic pageants. That of the 9th
November, especially, "lived in Settle's num-
bers, one day more," — but Elkanah Settle was
the last of such scribes. After his death, the
city eschewed a poet. The office has now de-
scended to the street bard, who annually cele-
brates the great ceremony. I cite two stanzas
and the chorus from the latest of these civic
Odes:

There is, beside the descriptions of ballads
above cited, the Ballad Local. One of these is
headed the "Queer Doings in Leather-lane,"
and is on a subject concerning which street-
sellers generally express themselves strongly —
Sunday trading. The endeavour to stop street
trading (generally) in Leather-lane, with its
injurious results to the shopkeepers, has been
already mentioned. The ballad on this local
subject presents a personality now, happily, al-
most confined to the street writers:

There are yet three themes of these street
songs, of which, though they have been alluded
to, no specimens have been given. I now supply
them. The first is the election ballad. I quote
two stanzas from "Middlesex and Victory! or,
Grosvenor and Osborne for ever!"

Then come the "elegies." Of three of these
I cite the opening stanza. That on the "Death
of Queen Adelaide" has for an illustration a
figure of Britannia leaning on her shield, with
the "Muse of History," (as I presume from her
attributes,) at Britannia's feet. In the distance
is the setting sun:

The elegy on the "Death of the Right Ho-
nourable Sir Robert Peel, Bart. M.P.," is set
off with a very fair portrait of that statesman.

The verses which bewail the "Death of
H. R. H. the Duke of Cambridge," and which
are adorned with the same illustration as those
upon Queen Adelaide, begin

The third class of street-ballads relates to
"fires." The one I quote, "On the Awful Fire
at B. Caunt's, in St. Martin's-lane," is preceded
by an engraving of a lady and a cavalier, the
lady pointing to a column surmounted by an
urn. I again give the first stanza:

In a subsequent stanza are four lines, not with-
out some rough pathos, and adapted to move
the feelings of a street audience. The writer is
alluding to the grief of the parents who had lost
two children by a terrible death:

I find no difference in style between the bal-
lads on a subject of to-day, and the oldest which
I could obtain a sight of, which were sung in
the present generation — except that these poems
now begin far less frequently with what at one
time was as common as an invocation to the
Muse — the invitation to good Christians to attend
to the singer. One on the Sloanes, however,
opens in the old fashion:

I now conclude this account of street-ballads
on a subject with two verses from one on
the subject of "The Glorious Fight for the
Championship of England." The celebration
of these once-popular encounters is, as I have
already stated, one of the points in which the
modern ballad-man emulates his ancient brother
minstrel: