by Amy Myers
Knowing that Mr Charles Hart, the famous actor at Drury Lane, who lived in what was now Hart House in the Row, was a great-nephew of Mr Shakespeare, Pip’s son might have called on him to ask him if he knew anything about the inn sign. Mr Hart did know about it and about the play — although not where they were now. The first Pip had never been told about the Seven Deadly Sins, and after hearing about it his son must have spent some years hunting round London for both the play and the inn sign, until at last he came upon the inn sign in Panyer Alley. It was outside a house that Mr Johnson used to live in and his descendants still had the play ready and waiting for him.
After they met Pip’s son, the descendants not only added the inscription to the carving of the Boy sitting on the highest ground, the roof, but Pip and his stone were given a brick surround to make them look more impressive. As for the play, Pip’s son took it to bequeath to his family. In time the house would have changed hands, and memories can be short (unless you’re Zechariah), so the stone stayed there merely as a curiosity.
My friend Mr Chalcot remains convinced that Tarlton’s influence is reflected in many of Mr Shakespeare’s masterpieces.
‘Take Hamlet, my dear Mr Wasp,’ he said, ‘consider how many of the deadly sins are represented there, take Twelfth Night and When That I Was and a Little Tiny Boy or —’
‘— As You Like It, I added, having seen this at the penny gaff. Mr Chalcot sighed with pleasure.
‘Ah, Mr Wasp, what a partnership we have.’
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Historical Note
by Amy Myers
Tom Wasp lived in Victorian London, a world different to both our own and the one inhabited by Richard Tarlton in the sixteenth century. The docklands area of London’s East End in which Tom Wasp lived was largely obliterated in the Second World War, as was Paternoster Row. The Row had suffered similarly in the Great Fire of London, during which St Paul’s Cathedral was burned down, but it escaped that fate in World War II, although it came perilously close to destruction. The Dolly’s Chop House of this novel no longer exists, but is factual regarding its history and location in Queen’s Head Passage. Clara Pomfret, her daughter and staff are fictitious; in the census of 1861 Dolly’s was under the aegis of 52-year-old widow Esther Dewhurst and her daughter.
The Boy of Panyer Alley and the verse beneath him are factual and can be seen today, but, apart from the fact that the actor Charles Hart was indeed Shakespeare’s great-nephew, the stories I have allotted to them are my own invention — the true origin of the Boy in Panyer Alley is unknown. In Tom Wasp’s time the Boy (complete with the verse and date) was situated further along the alley and was at ground level between two houses; he then had a brick surround, which he no longer possesses. Today, as one comes out of St Paul’s underground station the Boy is straight ahead on the wall of the Caffè Nero. The alley itself, however, and the area around it including Paternoster Row and Queen’s Head Passage are vastly changed.
And now for Richard Tarlton. Tarlton existed and the information about him is factual, although there is considerable academic debate as to whether his now lost play The Seven Deadly Sins forms the basis of the plot of The Seven Deadly Sins in the papers of Edward Alleyn at Dulwich College. I have chosen to go with the argument that they are two separate plays. Tarlton’s link with the Boy is my own invention, as are the adventures of the Seven Deadly Sins script after Tarlton’s death. Pip’s real fate is unknown, and so is that of the play after its performance in Oxford recorded by Gabriel Harvey.
There is also disagreement amongst scholars as to what Shakespeare was doing during his childhood and so-called ‘lost years’, and I have chosen to follow the argument that he joined the Queen’s Men much earlier than 1587. What is not disputed is that Shakespeare was on friendly terms with Tarlton. Shakespeare’s great-nephew Charles Hart is factual, but his connections with the fictitious Hart House and with The Seven Deadly Sins are not.
Christopher Smart’s poem ‘My Cat Jeoffry’ is now famous, but was only published for the first time as part of the Jubilate Agno in 1939, thanks to WG Stead, who acquired the latter from the library of Colonel WG Carwardine Probert. It had descended through the Carwardine family who might have acquired it originally from Smart’s friend, the poet William Cowper. The Jubilate Agno was written by Smart in the mid eighteenth century while Smart was confined for insanity. The story of its manuscript’s theft and restoration in this novel, however, is entirely fictitious. No such adventures disturbed its peaceful existence in the Carwardine library. Today it resides in the Houghton Library, Harvard University and can be read online.
The quoted lines of poetry that Tom reads from The Seven Deadly Sins are from surviving works attributed to Tarlton: two are from Tarleton’s Tragical Treatises and two from Tarlton’s Jests.
Lastly, sweeps did have an annual procession on May Day, with a Jack-in-the-Green, although I doubt whether it was as dramatic as in this story.