Robert Innes, a Grub Street Poet

Is there anything known respecting a strange "madcap," one Robert Innes, who, according to a printed broadside now before me, was a pauper in St. Peter's Hospital, 1787? He was in the habit of penning doggrel ballads and hawking them about for sale. Some of them have a degree of humour, and are, to a certain extent, valuable at the present time for their notices of passing events. In one of these now rare effusions, he styles himself "R. Innes, O.P.," and in explanation gives the following lines:— "Some put unto their name A.M., And others put a D. and D., If 'tis no harm to mimick them, I add…