“I was always very fond of music, and if ever I heard any in the
streets, I always followed it about. I’m nearly fifteen now; but I can
remember when I was seven, being particularly taken with music. I had
an uncle who was captain of a steamer that run to Richmond, and I was
always on board with him; and they used to have a band on board. It
wasn’t in particular a passage-boat, but an excursion one, and let to
private parties, and a band always went along with them. I was taken
along to run after orders for the steward; and when I had nothing to
do, I used to go and listen to them. I learn all their tunes by heart.
They mostly played dances, and very seldom any sentimental songs,
unless anybody asked them. For myself, I prefer lively tunes. I don’t
know much operatic music, only one or two airs; but they’re easier to
play on the concertina than lively music, because it’s difficult to
move the fingers very quickly. You can’t hardly play a hornpipe. It
makes the arm ache before you can play it all through, and it makes
such a row with the valve working the bellows up and down, that it
spoils the music.
“I had not got my instrument when I was in this steamboat. When I heard
a tune, I used to whistle it. I asked my father to buy me a instrument,
but he wouldn’t. I was always on the steamboat, helping uncle; and
I could have had lots of time to learn music there. When they, the
musicians, put the harp down in the cabin, I’d get playing on it. There
was a hole in the green baize cover of the harp, and I used to put my
hand in and work away at it. I learnt myself several tunes, such as the
‘Sultan Polka.’ I must have been eight years old then. I didn’t play it
with both hands: I couldn’t do the bass.
“I never had any lessons in music. I’ve done it all out of my own head.
Before I had a concertina, I used to go about amusing myself with a
penny tin whistle. I could play it pretty well, not to say all tunes,
but all such as I knew I could play very well on it. The ‘Red, White,
and Blue’ was my favourite tune.
“I have a brother, who is younger than I am, and he, before he was ten,
was put out to a master to learn the violin. Father’s a labourer, and
does something of anything he can get to do; but bricklaying generally.
He paid so much a quarter for having my brother Henry taught. I think
it was about 16_s._ a-quarter. It was a great expense for father at
first; but afterwards, when we was hard up, Henry could always fly to
the fiddle to earn a crust. Henry never took to music, not to say well.
I can play more out of my own head than he can by notes. He’s a very
good player now.
“I was about getting on for twelve when father first bought me a
concertina. That instrument was very fashionable then, and everybody
had it nearly. I had an accordion before; but it was only a 1_s._ 6_d._
one, and I didn’t take a fancy to it somehow, although I could play
a few tunes on it. I used to see boys about my own height carrying
concertinas about the streets, and humming them. I always wanted one.
There was a little boy I knew, he got one, and then I wanted one
worse. He used to come to our house, and play all sorts of tunes, for
he played very well. I liked the concertina, because it’s like a full
band. It’s like having the fiddle and the harp together. I used to ask
this little boy to lend me his instrument, and I’d work the keys about
a little, but I couldn’t do any airs.
“I play entirely out of my own head, for I never had any lessons at
all. I learn the tunes from hearing other people playing of them. If I
hear a street band, such as a fiddle and harp and cornopean playing a
tune, I follow them and catch the air; and if it’s any sort of a easy
tune at all, I can pick it up after them, for I never want to hear it
more than twice played on an instrument.
“At last, after bothering father a long time, he bought me a half-crown
concertina. I was in bed when he brought it into my room, and he put
it on the bed; when I woke up I see it. I instantly set to work, and
before I had got up I had learnt ‘Pop goes the Weasel.’ I was just
pleased. I was up and dressed, and playing it all day long. I never
used to let anybody touch, not even my own father hardly, for fear he
should break it. I did break it once, and then I was regular dull, for
fear I should lose my tunes.
“It took me six months before I could play it well, and then I could
play a’most any tune I heard. The fingers had learnt the keys, and knew
where the notes was, so that I could play in the dark. My brother could
play the fiddle well, long before I could do any tunes. We used to
play together duets, such as ‘A Boat, a Boat unto the Ferry.’ We never
hardly went out together in the streets and play together, only once
or twice, because a fiddle and a concertina don’t sound well together
unless a harp’s with it, and then it’s beautiful.
“How I came to get on the steamboats was this: father went to take a
trip up to Kew one day, so I wanted to go, and he said if I could earn
my fare I might go. So I thought I’d take my concertina and try. So I
went, and I earned that day about 9_s._, all in halfpence and 4_d._
bits. That was only by going up to Kew and coming back again. It was on
a Whitsun-Monday. Then I thought I’d do it again the next day, and I
think I took about the same. Then I kept on them all together. I didn’t
keep to the Kew boats, because they had got their regular musicians,
and they complained to the superintendent, and he forbid me going. Then
I went to the Woolwich boats, and I used to earn a heap of money, as
much as 10_s._ every day, and I was at it all the week for the season.
“I usen’t to pay any fare, but I got a free pass. It was mostly
the crew. When I got out at the pier, I used to tell them I’d been
playing, and they would let me pass. Now I know near every man that
is on the river, and they let me go on any boat I like. They consider
I draw customers, and amuse them during the trip. They won’t let some
hardly play on board only me, because I’ve been on them such a long
time--these three years. I know all the pier-masters, too, and they are
all very kind to me. Sometimes, when I’m waiting for a boat to go up
anywhere, I play on the piers, and I always do pretty fair.
“In winter I go on the boats all the same, and I play down in the
cabin. Some of the passengers will object to it if they are reading,
and then I have to leave off, or I should put my own self in a hobble,
for they would go and tell the captain; and if he wouldn’t say
anything, then they would tell the superintendent. In winter and wet
weather is my worst time; but even then I mostly take my 3_s._ In the
winter time, my best time is between three o’clock and six, when the
gentlemen are coming home from office; and I never hardly come out
before two o’clock. In summer its good from twelve till eight o’clock.
The passengers come to go to the Crystal Palace in the morning part.
Those that are going out for pleasure are my best customers. In the
summer I always take at the rate of about 6_s._ a-day. Pleasure-people
mostly ask me for dancing tunes; and the gentlemen coming from business
prefer song tunes. I have got a good many regular gentlemen, who always
give me something when they are coming from business. There are some
who give me 6_d._ every day I see them; but sometimes they go up by
a different boat to what I’m in. There’s one always gives me 6_d._,
whether I’m playing or not; and it’s about four o’clock or half-past
that I mostly see him.
“In winter my hands gets very cold indeed, so that I can scarcely feel
the keys. Sometimes I can’t move them, and I have to leave off, and go
down below and warm my hands at the cabin fire.
“In the summer I sometimes go out with a mate of mine, who plays the
piccolo. He’s very clever indeed, and plays most extraordinary. He’s a
little bigger than me. He lives by playing music in the boats. We don’t
play in the streets. I never played in the streets in my life. He don’t
play in the winter, but works with his father, who makes hair-oil and
that, and sends it out in the country. He’s a regular perfumer; and
serves chandlers’ shops and that like.
“There’s a tune we play together called the ‘Camp at Chobham.’ It
begins with my doing the bugle, and he answers it on his fife. Then we
do it in the distance like. Then come all the different marches the
soldiers march to. Some people are so fond of it, that when they see us
they come up and ask us to give it them. It takes a good quarter of an
hour to play it. When I’m with him, I earn about the same as when I’m
alone; but I like to go with him, because it’s company.
“One of the songs I play is, ‘Mother, is the battle over?’ That’s
lately come out. It is a lady’s song, and they generally ask me for it.
They also ask me for the Varsovienne. At the present time, the girls
mostly ask me for ‘Polly, won’t you try me, oh!’ They like anything
that is new, if it is a very pretty tune like ‘Polly, won’t you try me,
oh!’ Sometimes I forget the tunes; they go right out of my head, and
then, perhaps, a month afterwards they’ll come back again. Perhaps I’ll
be fingering the keys, and I’ll accidental do the beginning of the air
I’d forgot, and then I remember it all of a sudden the same as before.
Then I feel quite glad that I’ve got it back again, and I’ll keep on
playing it for a long time.
“When once I begin to play, I can scarcely leave off. I used at first
to play as I went along the streets, but now I feel too tired to do it.
If I haven’t been out in the boats, I must have a play just the same. I
like it very much. I don’t like any of the other instruments, now I’ve
learnt this one so well. The fiddle is pretty good, but nothing, to my
fancy, like the concertina.
“The concertina I use now cost me 16_s._ It’s got twenty double
keys--one when I pull the bellows out and one when I close it. I wear
out an instrument in three months. The edges of the bellows get worn
out: then I have to patch them up, till they get so weak that it mostly
doubles over. It costs me about 1_s._ a-week to have them kept in
order. They get out of tune very soon. They file them, and put fresh
notes in. I get all my repairs done trade price. I tune my instrument
myself. The old instruments I sell to the boys, for about as much as I
give for a new one. They are very dear; but I get them so cheap when I
buy them, I only give 16_s._ for a 25_s._ instrument.
“I’ve got a beautiful instrument at home, and I give a pound for it,
and it’s worth two. Those I buy come from Germany, where they make
them, and then they are took to this warehouse, where I buy them.
“Once I was turned off the penny steam-boats. There was such a lot of
musicians come on board, and they got so cheeky, that when they was
told not to play they would, just the same, and so a stop was put to
all music on board. If one was stopped all must be stopped, so I was
told not to go. I still had my fourpenny boats. I never used to go on
the penny boats hardly, for I never used to get much money in them.
Now I am allowed go on them just the same as before.
“I can’t say how often I’ve been up the Thames. I never go as far as
Chelsea hardly, only about twice a-day, for most of the people get
out between London-bridge and Nine-elms. My general run is down to
Hungerford and back to Blackfriars; and I do that about fifty times
a-day.
“I never go out on the Sunday. I mostly go to a Sunday-school, and then
take a walk. Father wants me to be a scholar: I can read and write.
I’m a teacher at the Sunday-school, and make the children read their
lessons. I know multiplication, and addition, and all them. I go to
school every night at half-past six and come home at nine. Father makes
me and my brother go to school every day, and we pay 1_s._ each a-week.
It’s a very good school, and the master is very kind. There are about
30 night scholars and 50 day ones, besides about 20 girls. His daughter
teaches the girls.
“At night when I leave school I go and play music three nights
a-week at a ball. My brother goes with me. We go to a place in the
Westminster-road on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. It’s a very
nice ball-room, and there are generally about 200 there. They pay
1_s._ each. There are four musicians, a fiddle, a harp, a fife, and a
concertina. It isn’t a Casino; it’s an assembly-rooms. We teaches on
three nights in the week, and the pupils assemble and practise on the
other nights.
“The room is like a street almost, and the music sounds well in it. The
other three play from notes, and I join in. I learnt their airs this
way. My mother and father were very fond of dancing, and they used to
go there nearly every night, and I’d go along with them, and then I’d
listen and learn the tunes. My brother regularly played there. He was
about ten years old when he first went to play there; but he could
play any music that was put before him. In the daytime he blows the
bellows at a blacksmith and engineer’s. The first time I played in a
orchestra I felt a little strange. I had been to rehearsal. I went
twenty times before I was confident enough to appear at night. I could
play the tunes well enough, but I didn’t know when to leave off at the
exact time they did. At last I learnt how to do it. I don’t have any
stand before me. I never look at any of the others’ music. I look at
the dancing. You’ve got to look at the time they’re dancing at, and
watch their figures when they leave off. The proprietor knew father,
and that’s how I came to have the job. I get 2_s._ 6_d._ a-night for
playing there, and plenty to eat and drink. There’s bread and cheese
and a drop of beer. On the other three nights when I’m not at the ball
I stop at home, and get a bit of rest. Father sends us to bed early,
about half-past nine, when I come home from school. On ball-nights I’m
sometimes up to two o’clock in the morning.
“I take all the money I earn home to father, and he gives me a few
halfpence for myself. All the year round it comes to 5_s._ a-day. I
buy my own food when I’m out on the boats. I go to a cookshop. I like
pudding or pie better than anything, and next to that I like a bit of
bread and butter as well as anything, except pie. I have meat or veal
pies. They charge you 6_d._ a-plate, and you have potatoes and all.
After that I have a couple of pen’orth of pudding with sugar. I drink
water. My dinner comes to about 9_d._ a-day, for I generally have a
pen’orth of apples as dessert. It makes you very hungry going about in
the steam-boats--very much so.
“I’m the only boy that goes about the steam-boats with a concertina;
indeed, I’m the only boy above-bridge that goes about with music at
all on the boats. I know the old gentleman who plays the harp at the
Essex pier. I often go and join in with him when I land there, and we
go shares. He mostly plays there of a morning, and we mostly of an
afternoon. We two are the only ones that play on the piers.”