(_For the Mirror._)
The minstrels were once a great and flourishing body in England; but
their dignity being interwoven with the illusory splendour of feudal
institutions, declined on the advance of moral cultivation: they became
in time vulgar mountebanks and jugglers, and in the reign of Elizabeth
were _suppressed_ as rogues and vagabonds. Banished from the highways
they betook themselves to alehouses--followed the trade of pipers and
fiddlers--and minstrelsy was no longer known in England.
The suppression of "the order" of minstrels, gave rise to that of the
Ballad-singers, who relied upon the quality of their voices for success.
The subjects of many of the songs handed down by the minstrels were
still held in honour by the ballad-singers. The feats of "Elym of the
Clough," "Randle of Chester," and "Sir Topaz," which had faded under
the kind keeping of the minstrels, were now refreshed and brought more
boldly in the new version before the sense. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck
had their honours enlarged by the new dynasty; more maidens and heroes
were inspired by their misfortunes. Drayton's allusions to the
propagation of Robin's fame may give an idea of the diffusion of the
ballad-singers:
"In this our spacious isle I think there is not one,
But he hath heard some talk of him and Little John;
But to the end of time the tales shall ne'er be done,
Of Scarlock, George-a-Green and Much the Miller's son."
The new race started in the field with the full tide of popularity; they
had the glory of being opposed to and triumphing over the votaries of
the muses. The poets of the first class confessed their uneasiness at
the success of the innovators. Of this fact we have abundant instances
in Spencer's "Tears of the Muses," and the mighty Shakspeare would bring
the calling into contempt.
The ballad-singers did not enjoy _empty popularity_, as may be
understood from the number of candidates who yearly sought refuge in
their camp. One of the most popular singers of this early time was a
boy, distinguished from the nature of his voice "Outroaring Dick," as
honestly bestowed as any hero of "jaw-breaking" memory in Greek or Latin
history. His earnings, according to Mr. Warton, averaged ten shillings a
day; he was a well-known character in Essex, and was not missed for many
a day from Braintree fair; and in the decline of life spent his days
like an amateur. But Cheetre, for such was his real name, was haunted
amidst his glory by a rival. Will Wimbars had a voice of as much
flexibility as Dick. Dick was the most popular, for he sang every thing
he could, but Will had a select list he never departed from. The former
was sought as a companion; the latter pleased best in the public
exercise of his talents.
The most universally esteemed singer of his age was Mat. Nash, who had a
vehement style; his "Hunts-up," a song which obtained him "much favor,"
was one of his most celebrated efforts. However, it happened that the
great Secretary Cecil was so captivated with his singing, that he soon
enabled him to retire from his profession.
The accident that led to this fortunate reconnoitre is not impertinent
to our subject: in a time of dearth, which was severely felt in the
city, the famous ballad-maker Delone composed a song reflecting on her
Majesty. The ballad-maker and singer were both committed to the compter,
but the poet defied government even while in the lion's den. In a letter
to the Lord Mayor, he avowed the ballad, and justified it. Nash, in the
meantime, in an interview with the Secretary, established his innocence,
and laid the foundation of his future prosperity.
The Gipsies furnished a number of singers about this time. The laws and
_prejudices_ of society concurred in denouncing this race; but,
nevertheless, the best received ballad-singers of their time were of
this bronzed tribe.
In the reigns of James the First and his successor, the taste of the
people for nature and simplicity kept up the profession of
ballad-singing. We are to look upon ballad-singers from this time as a
corporation. Custom had established yearly festivals for them in the
_classic regions_ of St. Giles's, which were frequented by the wits of
the day--Swift, Gay, Bolingbroke, Steele, &c. From these high followers
of the muses, yearly contingents of ballads were expected. Swift
contracted for the humourous songs: Gay who had, as Goldsmith says, "a
happy strain of ballad-thinking," was set down for the pathetic ones;
and those of a miscellaneous character were divided amongst a number of
amateur bards. No importunities, even of his friends, could induce Pope
to attend any of these assemblies. He was prevailed on to write an
epitaph for a young creature whom he had seen, and who was known by the
name of Clarinda: favoured by the great, if she had not been attached to
the life of a ballad-singer, she might, with her accomplishments, have
risen to distinction and fortune.
Gay and Swift had naturally a relish for low society, and were hailed by
the fraternity as the most precious sources of profit. Amongst other
songs which Swift sent into the world through the medium of
ballad-singers, was a severe satire upon the Duke of Marlborough,
beginning "Our Johnny is come from the wars:" it drew much attention,
and excited the strongest resentment against the author in the breast of
the Duchess, who remained implacable until the publication of Gulliver,
when she offered her friendship to Swift, through his friend Gay.
There was a young creature among the ballad-singers known to the world
by no other title than Clara, who drew much attention at this time by
the sweetness and pathos of her tones. She was the original singer of
"Black-eyed Susan," and one or two songs which were afterwards
introduced into the "Beggar's Opera;" but her recommendation to
particular notice was the circumstance of her being for many years the
object of Bolingbroke's enthusiastic affection. The poor girl strayed
for some time, during which his Lordship had not seen her: it was after
this interval, that, meeting her, he addressed to her the tender lines,
beginning,
"Dear, thoughtless Clara, to my verse attend,
Believe for once the lover and the friend,"
And concluding thus:
"To virtue thus, and to thyself restored,
By all admired, by one alone adored:
Be to thy Harry ever kind and true,
And live for him who more than died for you."
A series of calamities totally ruined her vocal powers, and she
afterwards subsisted by the sale of oranges at the Court of Requests.
The profession did not continue to maintain its rank. The disappointed
author in "Roderick Random," who set about writing for ballad-singers,
was introduced into one of their assemblies, and his testimony
establishes their degeneracy.
In fact, the history of ballad-singing, during the remainder of last
century, affords but an unsatisfactory subject of reflection to lovers
of song; whether they have regenerated in the present age, we leave the
reader to judge.