EDITORIAL NOTE.

Of late years there has been a largely increasing interest on the subject of folklore in its various departments. In such respects there has been a very considerable change in the feelings and tastes of the educated middle-class population of this country, from what there was several generations ago. Formerly the educated classes appeared to think that anything relating to the tastes or ideas of the common people was of very little interest. And in the course of some two hundred years back, leaving out the present time, the number of writers who thought it worth their while to deal with such topics were not much more than a dozen in number, including such men as Aubrey, Bourne, Brand, Hone, Strut, Halliwell, etc. Now, all that is changed, and it has been discovered that much of extreme interest can be learned from the superstitions, habits, beliefs, tastes, customs, ideas, amusements, and general social life of the uneducated or lower classes of previous times.

Not the least interesting or least important of the many sources from which information on these and similar matters, can be obtained, is that of the people's earliest popular literature—namely, the chap-book. Beginning at little after the commencement of the eighteenth century, and continuing for over a hundred years afterwards, right up to the general introduction and use of cheap magazines and cheap newspapers, the chap-book was almost the only kind of reading within the reach of the poorer portion of the nation.

What adds greatly both to the interest attaching to the chap-book literature and to its importance, is the fact, that [6]these literary productions, if they may be so termed, were almost entirely written by the people themselves; that is, they were written by the people for the people. This fact intensifies the conviction that they give a true and unvarnished description of the lower orders and their ways. Then, as now, every district had its proportion of local geniuses, who had a gift above their fellows in the matter of storytelling, or some other such way. And in many instances these narratives became chap-books, and were printed and reprinted times without number at the various printing establishments over the country devoted to business of that description.

With regard to this feature in chap-book literature already referred to—namely, that it was composed by the people for the people, and thus gives a true portraiture of many features in their social life—still more may be said. It being the case that not a few of those who hawked these cheap volumes over the country were themselves the authors of some of them, and in the composition of the chaps, to a considerable extent, just reproduced circumstances, incidents, and narratives that they had met with in their wanderings over the country.

To a very marked degree was this the case in the most prominent of all the Scottish chap-book writers—namely, Dougal Graham. See his works, two volumes octavo, collected and edited by George MacGregor in 1883. It would appear that at an early period of Graham's peregrinations he accompanied Prince Charlie's army in 1745-46 throughout its various fortunes, pursuing his trade as a hawker of sundry articles that might be in demand by the prince's retainers. After that event was over, Graham continued the calling of hawker and chapman, at the same time becoming the author of a number of chap-books. But after a while he got a step or two further on; for, finding such an immense demand for his extremely amusing, though coarse, volumes, [7]he ultimately set up a printing press of his own, for the purpose of producing his chaps and supplying the chapmen with them, by whom they were spread broadcast over the country. The knowledge of such instances as this lends much additional value to the chap-book, as containing a forcible description of the social life and ideas of the masses in

former times.

A slight study of this department of literature will show that there was, then as now, much variety in the tastes of the people. And we also find that in this respect the various tastes could be fairly well met from among the stores of the chap-book publisher. In these days, just as at the present time, there had been any amount of enterprise on the part of authors and publishers in furnishing readers with whatever their fancy might desire. The Litteratura Vulgi may be fairly well divided into the following or similar classifications:—Historical, biographical, religious, romantic, poetical, humorous, fabulous, supernatural, diabolical, legendary, superstitious, criminal, jest-books, etc.

The strictly religious appear to be the fewest in number. The supernatural and the superstitious elements appear to have been more in demand, as the supply of such classes seems to have been greater,—in these days the marvellous had evidently very great charms. The romantic likewise had been in great request,—the old romances handed down from the days long before printing was invented continued up till last century to be of undiminished interest. Also, from the number of poetical chaps that have come down to us, it is evident that the demand for them had been great all over the country. The most popular of all, however, appears to have been the humorous section, which again might be subdivided into a variety of departments, each with numerous representatives. The love of fun and frolic was apparently as deeply implanted in the feelings and tastes of previous generations as of the present.

Printing establishments devoted to the production of[Pg 8] chap-books were pretty well scattered all over the country. In England the principal places appear to have been London, York, Birmingham, and Newcastle. In Scotland, the towns of Glasgow, Stirling, Falkirk, and Montrose appear to have carried off the palm in that respect. In Ireland there had been few places besides Dublin and Belfast.

The immense volume of business done in the production of the chap-book, and its importance as an article of trade all over the country, has been a matter of surprise; and the more one investigates into the facts of the case, the more is one impressed with the magnitude of the institution. It appears to have given employment to many thousands of chapmen and printers' employees. As an instance of the profits derivable from the business as an article of trade, one publisher of chap-books, and that not in an especially large way, is known to have retired with accumulated profits amounting to £30,000, which in these days would represent a much larger sum than it does now.

Notwithstanding the immense quantities of chap-books circulated broadcast over the country, comparatively early copies are now extremely rare. And the desire on the part of the public for their possession is now so great that about sixty times their original price is readily given—that is, what originally was sold for one penny, now frequently fetches five shillings, and sometimes more.

In the present collection, which is chiefly of last century, the reader will find considerable variety, containing as it does interesting specimens of several classes or divisions of the popular literature, mostly, however, of an amusing and humorous nature; and from the perusal of the majority of the chaps herein contained, a good deal of entertainment may be derived.

As a companion volume, it is the Editor's intention to issue shortly a collection of Amusing Poetical Chap-Books.[9]

Containing the Entertaining and Merry Tricks and Droll Frolics played by the Cobbler, how he got acquainted with the King, became a Great Man and lived at Court ever after,

Containing his Birth and Parentage; His Meeting with the King's Son; His Noble Conquests over many Monstrous Giants; and his rescuing a Beautiful Lady, whom he afterwards married,

Which began the very next Morning after their Marriage,

Who was for more than forty years King of the Beggars,

With his Coat Buttoned behind, being an Elegant Conference between English Tom and Irish Teague; with Paddy's Catechism, and his Supplication when a Mountain Sailor,

Son in Law to Mother Winter; to which are added his Merry Jests and Pleasant Tales,

Or Ned giving Harry an Account of his Courtship and Marriage State,

Containing Rare Secrets of Nature and Art, tried and experienced by Learned Philosophers, and recommended to all ingenious young men and maids, teaching them, in a natural way, how to get good wives and husbands. Approved by several that have made trial of them; it being the product of forty-nine years' study. By our loving Friend Poor Tom, for the King, a lover of Mirth but a hater of Treason. In Two Parts,

Of Canterbury, Colchester, Cornwall, and Cumberland, their Queens and Daughters; being the Merry Tales of Tom Hodge and his School-Fellows,

Being many Pleasant Passages and Mad Pranks which he observed in his Travels. Full of Honest Mirth and Delight,

Or the Effects of Female Curiosity,

Tailor in Dalkeith,

Who was carried off when a Child from Aberdeen and sold for a Slave,

Including an Account of his Birth, Education, and Death,

Showing his wicked Life and horrid Death, and how he sold himself to the Devil, to have power for twenty-four years to do what he pleased, also many strange things done by him with the assistance of

With an account how the Devil came for him at the end of twenty-four years, and tore him to pieces,

Of Westminster,

Giving a Particular Account of his Birth, Parentage, with the many Wonderful Things he did in his Lifetime, to the amazement of all the World,

Containing his Birth and Parentage; how he went to the Wars and Lost his Sight, and turned Beggar at Bethnal Green; how he got Riches, and educated his Daughter; of her being Courted by a rich, young Knight; how the Blind Beggar dropt Gold with the Knight's Uncle; of the Knight and the Beggar's Daughter being Married; and, lastly, how the famous Pedigree of the Beggar was discovered, and other Things worthy of Note,

Showing the Merry Pranks he played during his Apprenticeship, and how he Tricked a Rich Miser, etc. Very diverting for a Winter Evening Fireside,

[13]

COMICAL HISTORY

OF THE

KING AND THE COBBLER

CONTAINING

Chapter I.

It was the custom of King Henry the Eighth to walk late in the night into the city disguised, to observe and take notice how the constables and watch performed their duty, not only in guarding the city gates, but also in diligently watching the inner parts of the city, that so they might, in a great[14] measure, prevent those disturbances and casualties which too often happen in great and populous cities in the night; and this he did oftentimes, without the least discovery who he was, returning home to Whitehall early in the morning.

Now, on his return home through the Strand, he took notice of a certain cobbler who was constantly up at work whistling and singing every morning. The king was resolved to see him and be acquainted with him, in order to which he immediately knocks the heel off his shoe by hitting it against a stone, and having so done, he bounced at the cobbler's stall.

"Who's there?" cries the cobbler.

"Here's one," cries the king. With that the cobbler opened the stall door, and the king asked him if he could put the heel on his shoe.

"Yes, that I can," says the cobbler; "come in, honest fellow, and sit thee down by me and I will do it for thee straight," the cobbler scraping his awls and old shoes to one side to make room for the king to sit down.

The king being hardly able to forbear laughing at the kindness of the cobbler, asked him if there was not a house hard by that sold a cup of ale and the people up.

"Yes," said the cobbler, "there is an inn over the way, where I believe the folks are up, for the carriers go from thence very early in the morning."

With that the king borrowed an old shoe off the cobbler and went over to the inn, desired the cobbler would bring his shoe to him thither as soon as he had put on the heel again. The cobbler promised he would; so making what haste he could to put on the heel, he carries it over to the king, saying, "Honest blade, here is thy shoe again, and I warrant thee it will not come off in such haste again."

"Very well," says the king; "what must you have for your pains?"

"A couple of pence," replied the cobbler.[15]

"Well," said the king, "seeing thou art an honest merry fellow, there is a tester for thee; come, sit down by me, I will drink a full pot with thee; come, here's a good health to the king."

"With all my heart," said the cobbler, "I'll pledge thee were it in water."

So the cobbler sat down by the king and was very merry, and drank off his liquor very freely; he likewise sung some of his merry songs and catches, whereat the king laughed heartily and was very jocund and pleasant with the cobbler, telling him withal that his name was Harry Tudor, that he belonged to the court, and that if he would come and see him there, he would make him very welcome, because he was a merry companion, and charged him not to forget his name, and to ask any one for him about the court and they would soon bring him to him; "For," said the king, "I am very well known there."

Now the cobbler little dreamt that he was the king that spake to him, much less that the king's name was Harry Tudor. Therefore, with a great deal of confidence, he stands up and puts off his hat, makes two or three scrapes with his foot and gives the king many thanks, also telling him that he was one of the most honest fellows he ever met with in all his lifetime, and although he never had been at court, yet he should not be long before he would make a holiday to come and see him.

Whereupon the king paying for what they had drunk, would have taken his leave of the cobbler; but he, not being willing to part with him, took hold of his hand and said, "By my faith you must not go, you shall not go, you shall first go and see my poor habitation. I have there a tub of good brown ale that was never tapped yet, and you must go and taste it, for you are the most honest blade I ever met withal, and I love an honest merry companion with all my heart."[16]

Chapter II.

So the cobbler took the king with him over the way, where he had his cellar adjoining the stall, which was handsomely and neatly furnished for a man of his profession. Into the cellar he took the king. "There," said he, "sit down, you are welcome; but I must desire you to speak softly, for fear of waking my wife Joan, who lies hard by (showing the king a close bed made neatly up at one corner of the cellar, much like a closet), for if she should wake she will make our ears ring again."

At which speech of the cobbler the king laughed and told him he would be mindful and follow his directions.

Whereupon the cobbler kindled up a fire and fetched out a brown loaf, from which he cut a lusty toast, which he sat baking at the fire; then he brought out his Cheshire cheese. "Now," says he, "there is as much fellowship in eating as in drinking."

Which made the king admire the honest freedom of the cobbler. So having eaten a bit the cobbler began. "A health to all true hearts and merry companions;" at which the king smiled, saying, "Friend, I'll pledge thee."

In this manner they ate and drank together till it was almost break of day; the cobbler being very free with his liquor, and delighting the king with several of his old stories, insomuch that he was highly pleased with the manner of his entertainment; when, on a sudden, the cobbler's wife Joan began to awake. "I'faith," says the cobbler, "you must begone, my wife Joan begins to grumble, she'll awake presently, and I would not for half the shoes in my shop she should find you here."

Then taking the king by the hand, he led him up the[17] stairs, saying, "Farewell, honest friend, it shan't be long before I make a holiday to come and see thee at court."

"Thou shalt be kindly welcome," replied the king.

So they parted, the king on his way to Whitehall and the cobbler to his cellar, and there putting all things to rights before his wife Joan got up, he went to work again, whistling and singing as merry as he used to be, being much satisfied that he happened on so good and jovial a companion, still pleasing himself in his thoughts how merry he should be when he came to court.

Chapter III.

Now as soon as the king came home, he sent out orders about the court, that if any one inquired for him by the name of Harry Tudor, they should immediately bring him before him, whatever he was, without any further examination.

The cobbler thought every day a month till he had been at court to see his new acquaintance, and was troubled how he should get leave of his wife Joan, for he could not get without her knowledge, by reason he did resolve to make himself as fine as he could, for his wife always keeped the keys of his holiday clothes; whereupon one evening, as they sat at supper, finding her in a very good humour, he began to lay open his mind to her, telling her the whole story of their acquaintance, repeating it over and over again, that he was the most honest fellow that ever he met withal. "Husband," quoth she, "because you have been so ingenious as to tell me the whole truth, I will give you leave to make a holiday, for this once you shall go to court, and I will make you as fine as I can."

So it was agreed that he should go to court the next day;[18] whereupon Joan rose betime the next morning to brush up her husband's holiday clothes and make him as fine as she could. She washed and ironed the lace-band, and made his shoes shine that he might see his face in them; having done this she made her husband rise and pull off his shirt. Then she washed him with warm water from head to foot, putting on him a clean shirt; afterwards she dressed him in his holiday clothes, pinning his laced band in prim.

Chapter IV.

The cobbler being thus set forth, he strutted through the street like a crow in a gutter, thinking himself as fine as the best of them all.

In this manner he came to the court, staring on this body and on that body as he walked up and down, and not knowing how to ask for Harry Tudor. At last he espied one as he thought, in the habit of a servant-man, to whom he made his address, saying—

"Dost thou hear, honest fellow, do you know one Harry Tudor who belongs to the court?"

"Yes," said the man, "follow me and I will bring you to him."

With that he had him presently up into the guard chamber, telling one of the yeomen of the guard there was one that inquired for Harry Tudor.

The yeoman replied: "I know him very well; if you please to go along with me, I'll bring you to him immediately."

So the cobbler followed the yeoman, admiring very much the prodigious finery of the rooms which he carried him through. He thought within himself that the yeoman was mistaken in the person whom he inquired for; for, said he, "He whom I look for is a plain, merry, honest fellow, his[19] name is Harry Tudor; we drank two pots together not long since. I suppose he may belong to some lord or other about the court?"

"I tell you, friend," replied the yeoman, "I know him very well, do you but follow me and I shall bring you to him instantly."

So going forward, he came into the room where the king was accompanied by several of his nobles, who attended him.

As soon as the yeoman had put up by the arras, he spoke aloud, "May it please your majesty, here is one that inquires for Harry Tudor."

The cobbler hearing this, thought he had committed no less than treason, therefore he up with his heels and ran for it; but not being acquainted with the several turnings and rooms through which he came, he was soon overtaken and brought before the king, whom the cobbler little thought to be the person he inquired after, therefore in a trembling condition he fell down on his knees, saying—