JACOBUS PARKER, Dramatic Reader, Shoe-Black, and Peddler,
is represented in the accompanying photograph standing at his
accustomed "pitch." Although the career of Parker has been clouded, and his life-story is one of struggle and disappointment, yet he has
fought the battle bravely, and, as a veteran, is not without his scars.
"There is one thing I am proud of" said Parker, one day; "I am near three-score years and ten, have fought life's battle and won,
and will carry with me to the end its chief prizes - a hale heart and a contented mind." "Greed of gain, sir, has never been my motto. It is but
a poor object to fill up every nook and cranny of a human heart from boyhood to old age, as it does with many." Again, in his own words, " I have
always advocated temperance and detested drunkenness.* (*The quotations were
jotted down at they were uttered) 'In my youth I
never did apply hot and rebellious liquor to my blood, nor did, with unbashful
forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility.' Ah, sir, I have seen wine make
woeful wrecks of men and women too, recalling the powerful lines, 'Oh! thou invisible
spirit of drink, if thou hast no other name to go by, let us call thee Devil.'"Rumty," to use the cognomen by which Parker is known to a wide circle of poor friends and patrons, made a fair start in life. His father, he assures me, was a sort of private gentleman having some means at his disposal. One brother served his country in the army, another followed the law as a profession, while our hero was apprenticed to a wholesale stationer in the city, his father paying a premium to his master. Beyond this Parker appears to have received no further pecuniary aid, so that when he completed his term of apprenticeship he had to make his way in the world single-handed. At this point in his career he had a number of business associates, but the ties that bound them together were soon broken, and their paths diverged. Some he lost sight of, others he accounted least likely to succeed carved out their fortunes for themselves while he became a journeyman vellum-binder. In this capacity he obtained work in different parts of England, and at last succeeded in getting a post as vellum-binder in the Stationery Department of the Treasury Office. He held this position under the Government contractor for nearly twenty-two years: but to continue our narrative in his own words:-
"At this time, I may say, I lay in clover. Like all gentlemen who labour under the wings of Government, I enjoyed short hours, and a very fair salary. My hours were from about ten to four. I cannot say I was over provident, otherwise I might have saved a trifle of money. I strove, however blindly, to make the most of the present, by devoting my leisure to the drama. I became acquainted with a distinguished prompter in one of the London theatres, and forthwith entered upon an after-hour dramatic career, while still in the Treasury in 1846. I appeared in 'Green Bushes' and 'St. George and the Dragon' at the Adelphi, as a super, of course; but I soon rose to be St. Philip of Spain in' St. George and the Dragon.' I must tell you I had previously appeared in Shakspearian characters at other theatres. But in Othello I came totally to grief, and quitted the stage for a term, until, indeed, I made the acquaintance of the prompter. Another painful circumstance occurred. I had risen unaided to perform Hamlet's ghost. It was a packed house, and somehow I made a fatal blunder in pronouncing one word. In place of saying 'The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,' I said 'The glow-worm shows the mating to be near.' This was my first and last appearance as ghost, and you may be sure I got full credit for this original rendering of Shakspeare. I had my successes, too, I remember; one evening when the 'Mysterious Stranger' was on, the gentleman who had to play the corporal on duty failed to appear. The manager was in a fix, until, at the last moment, I volunteered for his part. I had only a few words to say in addressing the dealer in forged passports, but it was a success. After that I became a dramatic reader, got myself up in 'Goldsmith's Deserted Village,' and, in the costume of the period, personating Oliver himself. This brought me before many literary circles in different parts of London and its suburbs, but the pay was little better than that of a super.
"Suddenly I fell ill, lost the sight of my left eye, and had to leave my regular work at the Treasury. After partial recovery I went to Liverpool, to try my fortune there; but found no demand for my services as a workman or as a reader. Coming again to London I hoped to join my son, who was a bookbinder; this, too, proved a failure, as he, poor fellow, had a wife and young family to support. I felt I was a burden to him, and cleared out. Age, poor health, and feeble sight told on me woefully; there was work for younger and stronger men, and my one-sided experience in the Treasury had done me no good as a workman. At last, sir, from sheer necessity, I drifted into Lambeth workhouse. I have nothing to say against such public asylums; they are a great boon to those who cannot help themselves, and many a poor soul in this city would be in a sad plight but for their aid. It galled my proper pride, however, and it is painful for a man who has had anything like decent training to have to herd with worthless, profligate, and abandoned paupers. When I regained my strength I determined to try to earn a living by reading and reciting, as you will see from this card.
The card in question was inscribed with the name Jacobus Parker, Dramatic Reader, accompanied by a quotation from the Parochial Critic, which ran thus:-