The migrant musician who was news, even in death

The death of Billy Waters in March 1823 was of such note that London newspapers reported it the next day. But why did this disabled black busker, originally from America, arouse such interest? His biographer Mary L. Shannon investigates the entertainer whose identity was appropriated for the gain of others, and his own destruction.

Billy Waters was an African-American exsailor, who had lost a leg serving on the Royal Navy ship HMS Ganymede and so turned to busking in London to supplement his meagre pension. Waters performed in the streets of London’s West End; he adopted the distinctive costume of cocked hat, sailor’s jacket, and wooden leg which – together with his fiddleplaying, his dancing, and his trademark song ‘Kitty/Polly will you marry me’ – made him a well-known figure on London’s streetscape.

Waters’ widest fame came, however, after he was immortalised in W. T. Moncrieff’s hit 1821 stage version of the phenomenally popular book Life in London (1820-1), written by Pierce Egan, and illustrated by Robert and George Cruikshank.

Near the Adelphi, the real Billy Waters performed. Inside, the white actor Signor Paolo played Waters on stage in a scene set in a tavern near Seven Dials which he was said to frequent.

‘Billy Waters’ became a famous (fictionalised) character in Regency and Victorian culture. His image turns up in prints, caricatures, books, and periodicals. The character was performed on stage in London, Bristol, Hull, and Edinburgh, and then in Boston, Baltimore, and Philadelphia.

His solution was to create an incredible performance act where he sang, danced, and played music all at the same time.

MARY L. SHANNON IS A WRITER, RESEARCHER, AND SENIOR LECTURER AT THE UNIVERSITY OF ROEHAMPTON, LONDON. HER BIOGRAPHY, BILLY WATERS IS DANCING: HOW ONE BLACK SAILOR FOUND FAME IN REGENCY AND VICTORIAN BRITAIN IS FORTHCOMING FROM YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS. HER RESEARCH HAS BEEN FUNDED BY THE LEVERHULME TRUST AND THE RESEARCH

But William Waters the man has been shrouded in obscurity – until now. Born in America and an experienced mariner, he joined the British Navy on the eve of the 1812 War with the fledgling United States. After a terrible accident he had one leg amputated and was deemed ‘unserviceable’; with that, his seafaring days were over.

Now he had a new problem: how could a black man with a physical disability and a small pension survive and feed a family in post-war London?

In a city of one million people (twice the size of Paris) including a black population of around 10,000 (estimates vary), there were numerous black servants, beggars, and street sellers visible in the streets as part of the diversity of the international metropolis. Disabled street performers were nothing new as injured veterans returned from the Napoleonic Wars with physical and mental scars and very few job prospects, especially at a time of economic depression.

But Waters’ performance skills and eye-catching costume made him the crowd’s delight and an artists’ dream.

Waters’ fame sustained him but then destroyed him. He saw none of the revenue from the drawings and writings about him. The character of ‘Billy Waters’ was performed on stage by white actors in blackface: his identity was appropriated for the gain and entertainment of others.

This had real impacts: when he became a character in Moncrieff’s hit play (called Tom and Jerry), Londoners decided he must be welloff and stopped giving him money for his street act. He died in poverty in a London workhouse, supposedly cursing the play.

Waters was a creative innovator and an entertainer in an age when black performers were supposed to conform to the stereotypes established by white spectators. He made use of the materials available to him to develop his striking performances. His talents should be celebrated but also the challenges he was up against must be recognised. It’s time we re-assessed Waters’ legacy to popular culture.

More information:

London

UK Parliament - Billy Waters bicentenary 2023 Early Day Motion Strandlines blog - the Busker of the West End