CRAZY CROW,

PORTER TO THE DUBLIN THEATRE.

HIS man was one of the public characters of the Irish capi tal in the reign of George the Second. What were his peculiar claims to notoriety have not been recorded, unless we can suppose them to have been founded on a propensity to fuddling, a peculiarly fierce appearance, and a tremendous voice, all of which appear, from the following lines, to have been his distinguishing characteristics :

"With look ferocious, and with beer replete,
See Crazy Crow beneath his minstrel weight,
His voice as frightful as great Etna's roar,
(Which spreads its horrors to the distant shore,)
Equally hideous with his well-known face,

Murders each ear till whisky makes it cease."

It is probable, however, that qualities of a more interesting kind distinguished him among his contemporaries, otherwise he would hardly have been honoured by the publication of his portrait. According to Caulfield, "Crow, as an appendage of the theatre, was generally useful, both to the manager, the prompter, and the performers; and notwithstanding his dissonant voice and ferocious aspect, he contrived to keep his post, and to gain a comfortable livelihood." In the above sketch, taken from the original print, he is represented as carrying a load of musical instruments to the musicians of the theatre.

BOUT the beginning of the last century, Old Harry was a remarkable character in London, his notoriety being established by the facetious and felicitous manner in which he described the sights to be seen in his raree-show. According to all accounts, it was quite a treat, both to old and young, to hear his learned and elaborate description of every subject and article which his attractive little cabinet contained. Pierce Tempest, in his Cries of London, from drawings by Marcellus Laroon, has described Old Harry with his cabinet on his back, strolling the streets, and bawling aloud for an audience to his show. Sutton Nicholls, the engraver and printseller, published two representations of him, from one of which we have taken the above sketch. Underneath the original are the following lines:

Reader, behold the Efigie of one

Wrinkl'd by age, Decrepit and Forlorne;

Then what's Inscrib'd beneath his picture trace,
That shows the Man, the Picture but his Face;

His tinkling bell doth you together call,

To see his RARY-SHOW, Spectators all;
That will be pleased before you by him pass,
To pay a Farthing and look through his glass,
Where every Object that it doth present,
Will please your fancy, yield your mind content!
Objects as strange in Nature as in Number,
Such a vast many as will make you wonder;

That when you do look through his glass you'd swear,
That by one small sight you view'd a whole Fair
Of Monsters stranger than can be express'd,
There's NIPPOTATE lies among the rest.
Twelve years together he has drove this trade,
And by no upstart yet has been dismaid;

'Tis so long since he did himself betake,

To show the Louse, the Flea, and Spangl'd Snake,
His NIPPOTATE which on Raw flesh fed,

He liveing shew'd, and does the same now dead;
The Bells that he when Liveing always wore,

He wears about his neck as heretofore,
Then Buy OLD HARRY, stick him up that he
May be remembered by Posterity.

His NIPPOTATE, referred to above, was the body of a tame hedge-hog which had been a special favourite of Old Harry when alive, and which his affection for it had caused him to preserve by stuffing when it died.

According to Caulfield, Harry contrived to make a comfortable living by thus harmlessly amusing the public at a very trifling expense. In the latter period of his life, he had two or three successful rivals. He then confined his perambulations to the vicinity of Moorfields, seldom straying beyond the boundaries of Hoxton and Islington, and he was rarely known to travel westward beyond Temple-bar. It is said that he died about 1710.

HE history of the Revolution, effected by this obscure but remarkable person, affords one of the most striking examples on record, of the sudden and extraordinary vicissitudes which frequently occur in the affairs of nations, as Twell as in those of individuals.

Thomas Annello, by construction called Massaniello, was born in the year 1623, and at the time when he attracted the notice of the world, was about twenty-four years of age. He lived in a corner of the great market-place of Naples, and it was a singular circumstance, that under one of his windows were fixed the arms and name of the Emperor Charles the Fifth. That monarch had granted to the people of Naples a charter of privileges, which about this period were grossly violated. Massaniello was robust, of a good countenance, and middle size; he wore linen trousers, a blue waistcoat, and went barefoot, with a mariner's cap. His profession was that of a dealer in fish, which he either caught himself or purchased for the purpose of retailing. The discontents excited in the city did not escape the observation of Massaniello; nay, so alive was he to the cause of them, that notwithstanding the meanness of his profession, he began to form a project for effecting a reformation. Going home one day violently agitated, he met with the famous Banditto Perrone, and one of his companions, as he passed by a church to which they had fled for refuge. Being known to them, they inquired what ailed him: on which he replied, that he would be bound to be hanged, if he did not right the city. They laughed at the extreme improbability of such an event,

but Massaniello swore that if he had two or three of his own humour to join him, he would keep his word. They gave him a solemn promise of assistance, and he departed.

His resolution was soon afterwards strengthened by a circumstance in which he was personally interested. Some of the officers of the customs, having met his wife carrying a small quantity of contraband flour, seized her, and carried her to prison; nor could Massaniello procure her release till he had sold the whole of his property to pay a fine of one hundred ducats as the price of her freedom. He now determined to avail himself of the opportunity afforded by the popular discontents, on account of the tax on fruit, which fell particularly heavy on the lower classes; and accordingly went round among the fruit-shops in his quarter, advising the keepers of them to go in a body the next day to the market, and tell the country fruiterers that they would buy no more taxed fruit.

The market-place was frequented by a great number of boys, who assembled there to pick up such fruit as fell. Massaniello associated with them, taught them certain cries and clamours suited to his purpose, and collected such a number of them between sixteen and seventeen years of age, that at first they amounted to five hundred, and afterwards to five thousand. Of this youthful army, Massaniello acted as general, providing each of the individuals who composed it with a small cane. The shopkeepers complying with his instructions, a great tumult took place the next day between them and the fruiterers. An officer, named Anaclerio, was sent by the viceroy to quell this disturbance.

Among the fruiterers was a cousin of Massaniello, who, seconding the views of the latter, endeavoured as much as possible to inflame the people. He found that he could not sell his fruit, unless at a very low price, which, when the tax was paid, would be less than the prime cost. On this he fell into a violent rage, and threw two large baskets on the ground, exclaiming, "God gives plenty, and the bad government a dearth. I care not for this fruit, let those take it that will." The boys eagerly ran to pick up and eat the fruit. At this moment Massaniello rushed in among them, crying out, "No tax! No tax!" Anaclerio threatened him with whipping and the galleys, on which not only the fruiterers but the rest of the people threw figs, apples, and other fruits with great fury in his face. Massaniello hit him on the breast with a stone, and encouraged his regiment of boys to follow his example; but Anaclerio saved his life by flight.

The people, by this time, flocked in multitudes to the market-place, loudly exclaiming against the intolerable grievances under which they groaned, and protesting their resolution to submit to them no longer. The uproar still increasing, Massaniello leaped upon the highest table among the fruiterers, and harangued the crowd. He compared himself to Moses, who delivered the Egyptians from the rod of Pharaoh; to Peter, who was a