becomes us all to sail under true colours, be so good as to tell me
what you are, a Gladstonite, or a Dizzyite?
_Boy._--Why a Gladstonite to the backbone, and no mistake.
There is a good lad; now let me hear you rehearse the Gladstone or
Liberal Belief.
I believe in Bill Gladstone to be the true Champion of Reform, and that
he is a perfect game cock, and that he will stick his spurs into the
comb of any tory mountebank who shall attempt to set the working-man’s
rights and privileges at naught; and I believe at the coming election
that all true liberals will put their shoulders to the wheel and obtain
a first-rate majority, not only in Church Reform, but in all things
where reformation is wanted; and that Gladstone and his friends will
reach the tip top of the poll, and start the tories off like scalded
cocks, and this I firmly believe. So help me John Brown.
There is a good boy, now let us enlighten our friends on events, past,
present, and future.
Now in the first place, there is Gladstone’s Irish Church Question! it
is a stickler to many, more especially to Dizzey, the Isrælite, for it
is to him like the carpenter’s saw, which the black cook said stuck in
his gizzard.
For the Dizzeyites were sorely vexed by a political squib, which
was recited by some of the unwashed in Hyde Park, who made a goodly
collection, which went into the pockets of the Collectors in the usual
manner.
And behold the Dizzeyites and Adullamites were alarmed, and they said
who hath done this evil which is so likely to rob our fat shepherds of
the golden wash they have so long fed upon.
And Sarah Gamp of the Standard did cause large bills to be posted in
every corner, equal in size to the top of a large dining table, headed
with these words, “Gladstone and his Friends,” showing how the needle
had pricked their tender feelings.
And Dizzey was down on his luck, when he found that his nose was
compared to double size, and he hid himself in a corner and wept.
And behold there arose a loud cry from the ladies of England, saying,
we are man’s better half, why not let us have a voice in the affairs of
our country, and not have our tongues muzzled like D-- M-- as served
our dogs.
And moreover it is expected that when the Election takes place that
the vendors of dog’s meat, headed by Jack Atchley and some of the nobs
from Sharp’s alley will proceed to Scotland yard to petition D-- M--
to revoke the sentence on our blessed tykes; for they say if it goes
on much longer, instead of skewing up meat for the dogs they will be
skewered up themselves--in some union house washing their blessed
inside with water-gruel.
Now behold B-- S-- of penny newspaper notoriety is again attempting to
poke his nose in for Westminster, but he will find it is no go, for
with Mill and Grosvenor before him, he will have no chance to walk in
for our ancient and much respected borough.
And all tories and adullamites are hereby cautioned not to have any
dirty tricks, at the coming Election, as they had at the Guildhall
Meeting, when they hired land rats and water rats at two bob a nob to
disturb the peace, or they may find something in the seat of their
small clothes more than their shirt tails.
Thus endeth the morning’s address.
LET US SAY.
From all back-sliding liberals, or slop made adullamites, Friends of
Reform spare us.
Spare us we implore thee.
From all tories who would give us such quarters as the wolf gives the
lamb. Gladstone, the father of the people, save us!
Gladstone, look down upon us.
From being gobbled up by Dizzey’s “No Popery” bogey, noble army of
liberals defend us.
From Dizzey’s Guy Faux keep us we beseech thee.
And oh, Lawrence, when you are made king of the city, let us have no
more unseemly brawls in Guildhall.
From all paid ruffians, save us good Lawrence.
And may it please you, good Richard, to look down with an eye of pity
on all distressed dog’s meat sellers, and take the harness from off the
dogs, so that we may obtain food to supply the worms that now gnaw our
hungry bowels.
Grant this, there’s a dear Dickey.
And oh, Dizzey, make your will, there’s a good boy, for at the
forthcoming election, Gladstone and the whole host of Liberals will be
at the top of the poll, and then farewell to all your greatness.
And I say so be it.
Henry Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.--W.C.
A POLITICAL LITANY ON THE TIMES.
When the present ministry shall cease their humbuging tricks, and do
that which is lawful and right for the benefit of the working classes,
then, and not till then, shall they receive our praise.
Dearly Beloved Brethren--Hunger moveth us at various times and in
sundry places, to make known unto our Most Gracious Majesty, the Queen
Victoria, our dreadful wants and sufferings, and although we ought at
all times humbly to acknowledge our Most Gracious Majesty the Queen,
yet the cry of our starving children prevent us from so doing.
The Lesson for the Day is taken from the present hard times.
And it came to pass in the year ’65, that there was a great stoppage
in the tide of politics, and the steersman, Pam, gave up the helm; and
the Queen sent unto the Land o’ Cakes for a certain little man of the
tribe of Russellites, well known by the name of Financial Jack, by some
called Little John, who being fond of lollipops, and having a sweet
tooth, it will be remembered he called out lustily for cheap sugar.
And when he arrived at the Castle, which is situated near unto the
great park at Windsor, the Queen said unto him, Johnny, Johnny, thy
friend Pam has cut his stick, and if thou thinkest thyself strong
enough, the place is thine.
Whereupon the little man bowed and bowed till the rim fell off his hat;
but when he tried on the garments of Pam, the coat fitted him like unto
a purser’s coat on a marlin-spike.
And the people murmured, saying, this man is totally unfit for the
berth, but for the want of a better he was accepted.
Amen.
And about this time there arose in the Land of Spuds tribes of men who
call themselves Feenanites, who promised to march unto the house of St.
Stephen’s straightway, to get something taken from them by honest John
Bull.
But a messenger came from that land to the house of St. Stephen’s
straightway, to inform the inmates thereof they were in danger.
And there was great trouble in the House, and the servants arose and
went out to meet them.
But when they arrived near unto that part of the land, behold, they had
flew, leaving nought behind them to take back but a few sticks, like
unto popguns, with which they had been learning to play at soldiers, so
they returned home.
Amen.
And O, Gladstone, thou good and faithful servant of the late Steersman
Pam, take unto thyself the helm of the good ship Great Britain, and
steer it safely through the troubled waters that now surround it.
Amen.
Let us say,
From all impositions of unjust stewards,
O Queen deliver us,
We beseech thee to hear us, O Queen.
And O Johnny, if thou take unto thyself the helm of the good ship Great
Britain, steer her safely through the troubled waters of poverty that
now surround her.
Hear us, O Russell.
We beseech thee to hear us, O Jack.
And from being slaughtered by the Fenians,
O Queen deliver us.
We beseech thee to hear us, O Vick.
And from all heavy taxation,
O Johnny, save us.
We beseech thee to hear us, O Russell.
And from all bad meat, O Queen deliver us.
We beseech thee to hear us, O Queen.
And O thou mighty Queen, grant that we may have a cheap loaf, and each
man paid justly for his daily labour, that we may live in peace and
happiness both now and for evermore.
Amen.
Printed for Author and Vendor.
POLITICAL LITANY On the Present Session of Parliament.
When the Whigs shall cease to be a milk and water set, and prove to the
people of England, that like good and trusty servants they will stick
up for their rights, and pass such measures as will be for the benefit
of the nation at large: then, and not till then, shall we consider them
as trumps, and look upon them with confidence.
Dearly bought and never-to-be-forgotten Johnny.--To your noble and
all-powerful self, do we, an over-taxed, poorly-fed people appeal,
trusting that, O most merciful Johnny, that by the virtue of thy most
exalted position, that you will be pleased to intercede with our Most
Gracious Majesty, that she will reside amongst us, and so improve the
condition of the tradesmen and mechanics of this mighty metropolis,
whose affairs now are in a most shaky condition. Grant this, O most
mighty John, and we will pray for the well-being of thy favourite
bantling, Reform, that you have nursed with such care for so many
years, and will sing praises unto thee, now and evermore. Amen.
Now the Services for the Day is taken from unprinted Bills that lay on
or under the tables of the House of Incurables, better known by the
name of St. Stephen’s.
Now it came to pass in the second month of the year ’66, and on the
first day of the month, that the Dictators who formed the seventh
Parliament in the reign of Good Queen Vic, assembled together to
consider the weighty affairs of the nation, and after relating their
rigs and sprees during the holidays, adjourned to crack a bottle and a
joke at the expense of patient John Bull.
And again on the 6th they met in the presence of our Good Queen, and
after bestowing six thousand a-year out of the pockets of the people as
a trifle for pin money for a certain little lady, they wished the Queen
good day, shook their heads, and went to lunch, entirely worn out with
their morning’s labour.
And they held long discussions on the plague among the cattle, and soon
came to the sage conclusion, that beasts that were ill could not be in
good health; but whether it was the cow or chicken pock they were not
prepared to say.
But the people cried aloud that it was done to raise the price of meat,
and those who used to treat themselves to a joint on a Sunday were
compelled to put up with a few ornaments from off the block.
Now near unto the commencement of the year, great excitement was caused
through the land, of strange revelations concerning a certain tribe
of persons called paupers, whose treatment in the Whig Bastiles, or
Union-houses, were likened unto swine; and the rate-payers of Lambeth,
and people in general, cried out sorely against the Poor Law nabobs,
and the ratepayers cried, Turn off the unworthy servants of the poor
and give the inheritance to others.
And behold, great alarm is being caused in different parts of
this mighty city, on account of the many rail-roads in course of
construction; and numbers of Her Majesty’s most loyal subjects, such as
the small shopkeeper and poorer classes, are being driven from their
homes, and by being deprived of the means of obtaining their living,
will be compelled to find shelter in the workhouse, and so swell the
rates imposed upon the hard-working tradesman.
And they pray the present ministry now assembled, to stay the progress
of this destructive juggernaut; and as there has been day by day great
outcry about the many accidents caused by them, they beg of them to
pass a clause in the acts for the regulation of railways, that they
shall supply a sufficient number of surgeons with splints and bandages
to each train, and a goodly supply of coffins at each station for the
use of those who are headstrong enough to travel by them.
Thus endeth the morning lesson.
LET US SAY.
O most noble Johnny, pull yourself together, and spare us the necessity
of selecting another steward.
Hear us, O Russell.
And O, most Gracious Queen, gladden the hearts of thy people by
dwelling amongst them, and so improve the trade of thy most loyal
subjects in this mighty city.
We beseech thee to hear us, O Queen.
From having our roads turned into honeycombs, and endangering our lives
by being swallowed up by the underground railways, spare us we implore
thee.
Railway Committees, spare us.
And O, much respected Chancellor of the Exchequer, repeal the duty upon
malt, as thou hast done upon tea, so that we may refresh ourselves with
a good and wholesome pot of beer, to the glory of thy good name.
O Gladstone, hear us.
And we implore thee to spare our poorer brethren from being compelled
to pig upon dirty floors in Union Bastiles, or by being poisoned by
bathing in a dirty soup kettle.
Good Farnell, and the whole host of parish nabobs, spare us.
Be just before you are liberal, and waste not the public money in
useless expenditure.
Minister of Finance, we beseech thee to hear us.
Spare us from being starved in the land of plenty, Good Bright.
O Bright, have mercy upon us.
And O Gladstone, thou brightest star in the political hemisphere; keep
thy weather-eye open, and jog the memory of thy fellow-servant John,
and guide his little feet if he should by chance to stray from the
right path.
O Gladstone watch over the welfare of the people.
And now, Johnny, we implore thee to act with justice to the country,
and give us the benefit of Reform which is so much needed, and grant
in all thy works, that you study the interests of the most patient and
industrious people in the world, so that they may be blessed with peace
and plenty, then will they sing, Long live the Queen, and good luck to
her ministers. Amen.
Henry Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles’s.
The Life, Trial, and probable Sentence of the DERBYITES, DIZZYITES, AND
ADULLAMITES, AND THE WHOLE HOST OF TORY CABINET MAKERS,
Who were tried at St. Stephen’s, for conspiring to burke the People’s
Reform, and attempting to pass a Counterfeit Bill instead of a Genuine
Article; thereby imposing upon a certain respectable firm, well-known
as Messrs John Bull and Company. The prosecution was conducted by those
able Advocates for Reform, Bright and Gladstone. The offenders were
undefended, as no one could be found willing to take their cause in
hand on account of their previous bad character.
Now the trial of these Anti-Reformers was highly amusing, owing to the
singular conduct of some of the offenders.
And the proceedings was prefaced by that old-stock farce called the
Struggle for Reform, or John Bull mesmerised.
And the advocates for the people said unto the Derbyites and their
companions, what have you to say in your behalf concerning this fraud
on the working classes of England?
Now behold one of them was a clever mountebank of the tribe of
Dizzyites, and like many of his kind he had a happy knack of saying a
great deal which amounted to nothing; and he commenced his defence with
a mock speech on Reform, which seemed to say: If you Reformers do not
unbutton your eyelids, and expand your understandings, I shall most
certainly mystify you with my high presto, cockalorum jig!
And he had as many tricks as those amusing little marmozettes that are
to be seen in the gardens of the Regent’s Park.
And when he had concluded he turned to the people and said, how do you
like me now?
And there arose a murmur through St. Stephen’s, saying, Not at all, you
are not in our style.
And Dizzy the mountebank was much grieved for he thought he had caused
a great sensation, and he exclaimed, Dizzy, Dizzy, thy occupation’s
gone.
And Lowe the Adullamite, surnamed the moonraker, pleaded guilty to
his offences against the people, and prayed for a mitigation of his
sentence, on the plea that he could not have been in his right mind.
And the poor gentleman could not have been sane for he rambled on with
some nonsense about the mark of Cain being set upon some people’s
brows; and asked the good citizens of London to order mass to be said
for his own sins, or the success of the Bill; his strange manner left
us in a fog to understand which.
Now the chief of the Derbyites being alarmed at the meetings in
Trafalgar Square and throughout England, did call a council in the
privy which layeth in the neighbourhood of Downing Street, to form
plans by which they might overthrow the honest Bright, and all those
who were on the side of the people.
For the Tories, finding that their seats were in a shaky condition, and
being fond of place and pensions, were determined to stick at nothing
rather than give up their golden kitchen stuff of office.
And behold their work must have been exceedingly bad, inasmuch as some
of their pals said no: we will leave your company, for we will not join
with you in this plot against the working classes of England.
And it was strongly suspected that Dizzy the Mountebank, eager for a
goodly share of the loaves and fishes, communed with himself, saying,
I will write up no connection with the head Cabinet Maker of the Upper
House, and then the whole business will be mine.
And the Reformers were well pleased, for they said the old adage will
then be verified that when rogues fall out honest men will get their
rights.
Now it was thought that they would have called upon D---- M----, the
head of the Poleaxes, to speak in their behalf; but that hero having
the remembrance of the Hyde Park battle before his eyes, declined to
appear, saying, He had received striking proof of the justice of the
cause.
Now it was in the 3rd month of the year, and on the 18th day of the
month, being the day after St. Patrick that the Tory Cabinet Makers
appeared to receive judgement; and the Council for the People said
unto them, If you do not give us the bill, the whole bill, and nothing
but a satisfactory bill, giving to the people what is justly their
rights, the sentence of this court will be that you will get the
infernal sack now and for evermore.
Amen.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles.
A NEW LITANY ON REFORM.
When the Tories shall grant to the people a share of what is justly
their own, and not take all the loaves and fishes themselves, as they
always have done; like the lawyer who swallowed the oyster and gave his
client the shells; then, and not till then, shall they gain our thanks.
Sorely oppressed and heavily taxed brethren, duty calls us, as the bone
and sinew of this mighty nation to assert our rights and privileges,
and although we at all times ought to do so, yet ought we more strongly
when we assemble and meet together to take such steps as are necessary
to obtain manhood suffrage, and all things likely to elevate our
condition as freeborn Englishmen, and not slaves to any intolerant
faction, such as now assert their despotic power in St. Stephens’
Infirmary. So I charge as many of you as here present, who are friends
to Reform, to act firmly in the cause, and never rest till it is gained.
Now, it was shortly after the premature death of the Russell
administration, that the Tories took office, and a couple of chiefs of
the tribes of the Derbyites and D’Israelites laid their heads together,
to consider in what way they might destroy the substance, and bamboozle
the working man.
And the D’Israelite said to the Derbyite keep your whip still, and I
will pull the string, and the day will be our own. So the Derbyite
was like unto the dolls in the toy shops, that say, we will cry for
sixpence.
And about this time, loud shouts was heard for Reform, and the echo was
carried throughout the length and breadth of the land.
And the whole host of Derbyites shook, as if struck with the palsy, and
their chief was sorely alarmed, so that his hair stood out from his
head like unto the quills of the porcupine, and he cried, Oh, Dizzy,
save us!
And behold there sprung up on the face of the earth a new race of
people called Adullamites, who were like unto their namesakes of old,
a dissatisfied and two-faced people, and like the camelon could change
their colour at will.
And their chief was a _Low_(e) man from the land of moonrakers; and
him and his colleagues were the Reformers of to-day and the Tories of
to-morrow.
And they said to the people, behold we are on thy side, at the same
time they were seeking how they might destroy their cause.
And they combined with certain unprincipled electors, and by bribery
and corruption made their way into the house of St. Stephen’s.
But when they got into the house, the mask fell from off their unworthy
faces, and instead of Reformers, they appeared as labour-grinding
Tories.
And the people murmured, saying, they are like unto Esau of old, who
sold his birthright for a mess of potage, and there is no trust in them.
And it was in the 7th month of the year, when the gnats bite the
hardest, that the Reformers declared their intention of assembling in
Hyde Park to set forth their honest claims, and hear the most truthful
voices of the worthy Beale and the Delegates.
And the Tories became alarmed, and W---- sent in haste to Dicky M----,
the renowned head of all the poleaxes, to march with his army, and stop
the much dreaded invasion.
But the people said, who is he who stays us from meeting in a place
that is justly our own? And they laid on for Reform, and lo! the rails
quickly passed away, and not a vestige was to be seen.
And when the Chief of the Poleaxes saw what was done, his nose turned
as blue as his coat, and he cried, On to the charge!
But behold, while he was whistling, see the conquering hero comes, a
brick, hurled by no friendly hand, caught his head unexpectedly, and
his charger turned and whispered, Dicky, how is your poor nob?
Thus endeth the Lesson.
LET US SAY,
From all Tory intolerance save us, Reformers.
Friends of Reform, hear us.
From bribery and corruption, and the whole host of Adullamites, and all
that have not clean hands, Election Commissioners, spare us.
Spare us, we beseech thee.
From having the Park gates shut against us, save us good Walpole.
Oh, Wally, hear us.
From unjust stewards, and Israelitish cash keepers, good Queen save us.
We beseech thee to hear us, good Queen.
And oh Derby and Dizzy, make not too cock sure that your position will
be lasting, for you know not what a day may bring forth.
And now to Russell, Bright, Beales, and all true friends of Reform, let
your thanks be now and evermore.--AMEN.
DISLEY, Printer, High Street, St. Giles’s, London.
CAPTAIN JINK’S DREAM.
A CONVERSATION ON THE COMING ELECTIONS BETWEEN BILL GLADSTONE & BEN
DIZZY.
Written by JOHN EMBLETON, Author of the “Political Litany on the Irish
Church Question, &c.”
Your attention I claim, Captain Jinks is my name, and with your
permission, I hold a commission, in Her Majesty’s famed horse marines.
I have lines here for your inspection, on the coming election, and I’ll
try to amuse, that is if you choose, by relating a wonderful dream.
It was t’other night, I got rather tight, I had been to the Alhambra,
to see the grand things there, and roll’d home at two in my glory.
And I dreamt a queer dream, though strange it may seem, that I heard a
conversation, or a confabulation, between Gladstone and Dizzy, the Tory.
I had a dream the other night; and the same I’ll lay before ye,
A conversation on the coming election, between Gladstone and Dizzy,
the Tory.
Said Gladstone, Dizzy my rum ’un, the time is a coming, though
you think yourself clever, you will find so help my never, at the
forthcoming general election,
That your goose will be cooked, and you must take your hook, for like a
cow’s tail you will find, you will be all behind, when the people they
make their selection.
Then said Dizzy it is plain, Gladstone, you want the reins, and between
you and me, your Reform and cheap tea, you fancy will carry you
straight, sir.
But I know what your wish is, to prig my loaves and fishes, but
Gladstone my hearty, I’ll lick you and your party, and stick to my
stall, so help me tater.
Ben, your No Popery cry, it is all my eye, and your cant and your
crawling, shews you are afraid of falling, for of honesty you have not
a spark, Ben.
For you and your chums dirty, got dreadful shirty, but that is not
worst, sir, said I fell to the gutter, when my friends met like bricks
in Hyde Park, Ben.
Says Dizzy, I know Bill, you think your Irish Church Bill, with the aid
of the donovans, will make you A No. 1, but you will find in the end
it’s no use man.
For it is a great shame man, that with Bradlaugh and Finlen, and
the rest of your Pets, should make this cabal, to capsize church and
constitution.
Said Gladstone, that is it, if the cap did not fit, Sally Gamp of the
Standard, would not have stuck up her placards, unless you Tories had
got some queer twitches,
But they have made a mistake, sir, it’s a mere waste of paper, and if
they come up to the scratch, they will find the Liberals their match,
and they may chance to have an earthquake in their breeches.
Says Dizzy, I know, that old Jemmy Squaretoe, to himself will you take
man, for running down shovel hats and silk aprons, and I wonder you can
sleep in your bed, Bill,
For in Hyde Park it was said, that a litany was read, and it said, and
no flies, my nose was like double size, and my curly hair shook on my
head, Bill.
Gladstone said by-the-bye, there has been a loud cry, which is nothing
unkimmon, for it comes from the women, they declare they will rule if
they like, Ben.
They say, at home in their houses, they can rule their spouses, and
they seem rather puzzled, that their tongues should be muzzled, like
D---- M---- muzzled our tykes, Ben.
Dizzy said, bless the ladies, they are well in their places, to wash
and dress babbies, and lecture the daddies; and some in homes they are
graceful.
They can rule in the kitchen, and cook puddings--if they can get
them,--and to say they’re not clever, I’d not venture, no, never! when
I think upon old Madam Rachel.
Gladstone said, my Cockawax, there is that cursed income tax upon
trades and professions, I’d like to sing its dying speech and
confession, for it robs the poor man of his bread, Ben.
Why not tax grunting pigs, the counsellor’s wigs, the little
hedge-sparrows, the cat’s-meat man’s barrow, or the chignons they stick
on their heads, Ben.
And Ben, it is said, you are politically dead, but have not pluck at
present, to get buried decent, and leave the Liberals to weather the
storm, Ben.
So I would advise you, and the Adullamites too, to make yourselves
scarce then, at the coming election, for you are done brown as sure as
you are born, Ben.
Dizzy said, Bill and I have tried, but you are not satisfied, but we
will see who is the best one, at the General Election, and to do our
best then we will endeavour.
Then I heard a great noise, with, We have lick’d them, my boys, and
just then I awoke, and though not a soul spoke, my ears rung with
GLADSTONE FOR EVER!
Henry Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.--W.C.
A POLITICAL THANKSGIVING
FOR THE Great and Glorious Victory Gained by the Liberals, and the
Complete Defeat of the Tories!!!
Much respected and truly victorious brethren, and all who have lent
a liberal hand in sticking the axe of Reform so deeply into the root
of that old contemptible tree called Toryism. I have this day come
amongst you to offer up a thanksgiving for the great victory gained by
Gladstone and his brave army at the Great Election, and also to offer
my sympathy for the alarming illness of the Tories, who are suffering
from an attack of the _place fever_; and all true Liberals are invited
to be present and take the front places, as Gladstone and his comrades
will in the House of St. Stephen’s. And all Tories and Adullamites are
requested to keep in the background, where they will remain now and for
evermore, and not disturb the present congregation, or they will be
given into the custody of the beadle.
Now the Lesson for the Day is taken from the battle with the
Gladstonites and the Dizzyites at the late Elections.
Now for many years past the Tories have been a place seeking and ease
loving people, greasing their chins with the lion’s share of what
justly is the rights of the working classes of this mighty land.
And the people communed together, saying, who are those who toil not
nor yet spin, and yet they swallow up all the grain, and leave us
nought but the husks to eat.
And lo there arose a mighty host called the Liberals, whose chieftain
was named Gladstone, who was in himself a tower of strength, who with
the Spear of Liberty sorely wounded the Tory chief, who was surnamed
Dizzy the Isrælite.
And, behold, it was in the dismal month of November,--the season so
fatal to all shakey constitutions--that the Tories became alarmingly
ill, and at the Great Election Battles found that their power was
passing away, and that they were dead licked.
And the victory that was gained by the Liberals was sorely painful to
Dizzy the Tory Chief, for he had said in the fulness of his political
health, “Show me the man who will tread on the skirts of my coat.”
But his boasting was like unto the mountain that became pregnant, and
brought forth a mouse.
For Gladstone the Liberal put forth his foot, and lo, Dizzy’s
Government was rent in twain.
Then went the Chief of the Tories unto the Castle which lieth near unto
the Great Park of Windsor, and threw himself at the feet of our good
Queen Victoria, saying, Bill Gladstone, the head boy in our school at
Westminster, has given me such a fright, that I feel quite white, and I
am afraid if I stay any longer, the other boys will chaff me, and say,
“Dizzy, Dizzy, I’ll have your curls!”
Then did the Queen send for Bill Gladstone, and said unto him, Are you
afraid, too? But Gladstone spoke up boldly, saying, Not I. Then said
the Lady of the Castle, Get you back to St. Stephen’s, and be head
teacher in the room of the boy Dizzy.
And Sarah Gamp, of the Tory cess-pool, sung quite small when she heard
of the disgrace her favourite boy had got into.
And since the Great Election has taken place, it has been rumoured that
certain Tories has been coming the Rachel dodge, and has been trying
to make themselves beautiful for ever, by rubbing themselves with
golden ointment, which has so dazzled the eyes of some of the free and
independent electors, that they will not be able to see clearly until
Gladstone and his friends settle the hash by giving us the ballot.
Thus endeth the Lesson for the Day.
Let us all say,
For giving the command into the safe keeping of General Gladstone, oh,
Queen, we give unto thee our thanks.
We thank thee, oh, Queen.
From being left to the tender mercies of the Tories. Friends of Freedom
save us.
Spare us, we beseech thee.
And oh, Lowe, since Gladstone has duly installed you as Keeper of
the National Cash-box, let us have none of your hanky-panky or
Adullamite tricks, as you had at the time of the great Reform Meeting,
when you charged the working-men with being a vile, degenerate, and
beer-swilling crew.
Now, Lowe, none of your moon-raking capers, or I shall give you another
taste of my rod of correction.
And, oh, Gladstone, give them a plentiful supply of Liberal pills, to
purge them of impurity.
Warm them, good Gladstone.
And, oh, Dizzy, my lad, keep up your pecker, and don’t be cast down,
for Gladstone is a good sort of a chap, and if you behave yourself, I
dare say he will give you a job.
Do not fret, Dizzy, there’s a good boy.
And, oh, D----, we thank you for paying attention to our last prayer,
by kindly removing the spectacles from off the dog’s noses, and when
the roasted chesnuts and boys hoop question is settled, turn your great
mind into another channel, and devise some means of ridding us of the
garrotting ruffians that now infest our streets and highways in the
open daylight.
Do D----, and we shall bless thee.
And now to Gladstone and all who have fought so nobly to gain this
great victory, be all thanks due, and may they stick like bricks to the
cause, and do their duty at the forthcoming Sessions of Parliament, and
they shall receive our praises now and for evermore.
Amen.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
BELIEF AND COMMANDMENTS ON THE RIGHTS OF WOMEN.
To be read by all married women to their husbands, and by all single
ones to their sweethearts.
At a meeting of women the other day, that dear old lady, Mrs. Caudle,
amused the ladies present, by reading her Belief and Commandments
on the rights and privileges of married women; so after taking
half-a-dozen pinches of snuff and a couple of glasses of eye-water, and
coughing three times, she commenced as follows:--
I believe, that has some one has said, that woman is man’s better, and
sometimes his bigger half, and the best friend he has got to his back;
she should not only rule the roast at home, but have a voice in the
affairs of the country to which she belongs! and I not only believe,
but I am quite sure, that it is her husband’s place to obey her in
everything, and patiently attend to her commandments, and then, and not
till then, will curtain lectures cease.
Now my first commandment, if I was married, would be this, I would say
to my husband.
1st. You must never think of, or even look at any other woman but me,
for am sure the parson must have made a mistake when he said, woman,
obey your husbands.
2nd. You must never make me jealous by praising those forward jades
that wear those ugly things on their heads called chignons, but keep
your eye wholly on me, and study my wants both day and night, or I will
comb your head with a small tooth bellows, that’s what I will, and no
mistake.
3rd. Before going to work in the morning, you must light the fire and
make me a strong cup of tea, with something nice in it in case I should
have the wind, and you must not grumble if the kettle does not boil
when you come home to breakfast.
4th. Six days must work from six to six, that you may provide me with
the comforts of life, and on the seventh, you may scrub the floor,
peel the potatoes, make the dumplings, and cook the dinner. In the
afternoon, by way of amusement, you must take the children to the park
and show the little darlings the ducks.
5th. If any of the children should have the measles, or the blessed
baby should require weaning, you must get up without a murmer and give
it the bottle, lest I might be disturbed by its crying.
6th. You must not crib a shilling from your wages on Saturday night,
but fork it all out and be contented with the pocket money I shall
think fit to give you.
7th. You must not get in a state of beer on any pretence whatever, or I
shall compel you to sleep at the foot of the bed for six weeks.
8th. You must not take my name in vain by calling me other than my
dear, or my duck, nor lay finger on me, lest I should give you six
months to learn you better manners.
9th. You must not dare to grumble if your shirt should be minus of
buttons, or you should be compelled to eat a cold dinner at least
three days during the week, if it should be my pleasure to go out for
amusement.
10th. You must not covet to be trusted with the latch key in the
evening, you must not covet to visit the Alhambra or the Oxford, nor
any other such like place; you must not look at the girls’ legs on a
windy day, nor rule your house or your spouse, or anything this is
within, but be a good boy and keep my commandments.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
A NEW POLITICAL AND REFORM ALPHABET.
=A= stands for Aristocrat, who nothing will do,
Who says they to work was not born;
And also the Adullamites, a double-faced crew,
The worst foes we have to Reform.
=B= stands for Beale, and likewise for Bright,
True Champions are of Reform;
So may good luck attend them by day and by night,
For nobly they battle the storm.
=C= stands for the Charter, and five points there are,
And by right they belong to us all;
Tho’ they’d fain keep them from us, seems pretty clear,
But we’ll gain them, my boys, or we’ll fall!
=D= stands for Derby, and also Dizzey,
Who talks large when there’s nothing to do;
Like parsons they say, you must do as they say,
But, mind you, don’t do as they do.
=E= stands for England, the land of the free,
The home of the true and the brave;
But our share of freedom is small, you’ll agree,
Though the song says we ne’er shall be slaves!
=F= stands for Franchise, it is our birthright,
So we want what is justly our due;
Tho’ the Tories they say, they will have their own way,
We’ll tell them, we’ll be damn’d if they do.
=G= stands for Gammon, and plenty we’ve had,
Till we are sick of that unstaple store;
But if they think to gammon us out of Reform,
They will find we’ll be gammoned no more.
=H= stands for Honour, there is some amongst thieves,
The saying goes that way I hear;
The Adullamites have none, it’s quite plain to me;
And the Tories have none for to spare.
=I= stands for Idlers, but none must be found,
Who wish for the success of our cause;
So boldly push forward, you’ll win I’ll be bound,
When it’s gained it is time for to pause.
=J= stands for Jacks, in office who are found,
To look on while honest men toil;
And they tidy sums get, to keep their mouths shut,
And blab not of the ill-gotten spoil.
=K= stands for Knight, and there many sorts are,
And some with the garter are deck’d;
Who instead round the leg, where the garter they wear,
Would look better if worn round the neck.
=L= stands for Lowe, both by nature and name,
And from Wiltshire he comes I tell you;
Who the workmen of England did vilely defame,
By calling them a drunken and ignorant crew.
=M= stands for Mayne, by some called Naughty Dick,
The chief of the Bluebottle mob;
Who in Hyde Park, they say, some queer cards did play,
Till at last he got one for his nob.
=N= stands for Nobles, and true nobles are they,
Who strive for their fellow-man’s good;
Not in luxury and idleness spend all their days,
Nor care to do good if they could.
=O= is an O, for nothing it stands,
And that is the working-man’s share;
Next to nothing he gets while he is here in this land,
And needs nothing when he leaves here.
=P= stands for Patience, so be not cast down,
My lads, nor give way to despair;
The sun shines on you, although the world frowns,
And good times must come it is clear.
=Q= stands for Question, and the Question is this,
Are Englishmen to gain their Rights?
Or must they labour like nameless serfs,
And allow Might to overcome Right?
=R= stands for Russell, and likewise Reform:
Then for Reform shout for ever;
For let come what may, we will clear the way,
For shall we be conquered? No, never!
=S= stands for Soap, some hard, and some soft,
So let’s say to our foes, just be steady;
Hard soap it is best, though it won’t well digest,
We’ve had enough of your soft soap already.
=T= stands for Tory, a set of greedy elves,
Who take all the loaves and the fishes;
They take all the fat of the land to themselves,
And give the poor man empty dishes.
=U= stands for Unity, which all of us need,
Which no power on earth can e’er sever;
It ensures a strong pull, while we give a long pull,
Then pull for Reform altogether.
=V= stands for Vultures, and many there are
Sit in St. Stephen’s, you’ll own;
If the poor man is starving and can’t get food for carving,
And asks for bread, they will give him a stone.
=W= stands for Workhouse, the poor man’s last home,
When by sickness or age is brought down,
Tho’ he’s toil’d all his life till he’s but skin and bone,
To uphold the mitre and crown.
=X= is a letter that looks like a cross,
An emblem of the working man’s life;
He has crosses enough, he finds to his cost;
If he dares for to ask for his rights.
=Y= stands for Yoke, the poor man must bear,
’Tis an odious badge of slavery to wear;
But never mind, boys! we will weather the storm,
And toast in a bumper, success to Reform!
=Z= stands for the Zeal the Reformers must use,
If they stick back and edge to gain what’s their dues.
Here is good luck to Gladstone, is now what I say,
Here’s the good cause Reform, for ever, huzza!
J. EMBLETON.
DISLEY, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
A NEW EDITION OF THE LITANY ON THE IRISH CHURCH QUESTION
Not exactly sanctioned by either Bishop, Parson, Curate, or any other
Prelate. It is not to be said or sung in either Church or Chapel, but
to be learnt by all persons without distinction to creed, country, or
colour. Composed on the Great Battle which lately took place in St.
Stephen’s House of Incurables.
When the rulers of this mighty Babylon shall be like unto good
stewards, and render unto the people, things that are the people’s,
and purge the Established Church of its many impurities, not only in
Ireland and Scotland, but in this mighty and loyal city, and allow
every tub to stand on its own bottom, then, and not till then will this
war cease, which has so long been an abomination in the land.
Sorely oppressed and heavily taxed Brethren:--
It becomes us all to be up and doing, and assist this monster question
of the day--the Irish Church Bill--no matter what your creed may be,
whether it be Catholic, Protestant, Quakers, Shakers, Spirit Rappers,
or Tub Thumpers, who have so long forked out the golden grain which has
so greedily been swallowed by Mother Church and her hungry chickens.
The lesson for the Day is taken from the late debate on on the Church
Question.
Now in the days of darkness, when Fat Harry, the Bluebeard King of
England, joined in unholy wedlock the Lion of State to Lady Lawn
Sleeves, the people were troubled with a blindness, which has continued
for upwards of three hundred years.
But of late, the film has fell from off their eyes, and they murmured
saying, why pay we tribute to those from whom we receive nothing, and
for buildings we do not enter?
But the masters in lawn, replied, we say unto you, pay you must, for
such is the law of the land.
But lo! there arose up a loud cry for Ecclesiastical Reform, and
Gladstone, their Champion, arose up in the house of St. Stephen’s,
which is near unto Parliament Square, and with stentorian lungs, said,
I intend to go the whole hog or none, and call upon the country to
dissolve the banns of matrimony between the aforesaid Lion and Lawn
Sleeves, which has so long been an eye-sore to the country.
And, behold the words that Gladstone uttered sounded like unto a
death-warrant to the ears of Dizzey and his pals, and his nose turned
blue when he thought it was U. P. with his greatness.
Now in due time the Great Election Battle took place, and the
Place-loving Tories, in spite of their back-sliding capers, were dead
licked; and Dizzey retired to Buckinghamshire, and fasted for three
whole days, and sat up to his blessed chin in sackcloth and ashes.
For the voice of the Country was with Gladstone, for they knew well he
was a Brick, and would hold the balance justly between the rich and
poor.
Now it was two days after St. Valentine, that the Liberal Chief buckled
on his armour, entered St. Stephen’s, and prepared himself for the
fight. And his war-cry was “Justice to all men,” “Liberty to Ireland,”
and “Disendowment of the Irish Church.” And the sons of the Land of
Buttermilk, shouted, “More power to you, Gladstone!”
And lo, the cry caused certain prelates to curtail their shovel hats of
their fair proportions and go into mourning, by converting their silk
aprons into hatbands, at which the grunters nearly split their side
with laughter.
And there arose a cry from the exiled sons of Erin, which sank deep
into the heart of noble Gladstone, and with the battle-axe of Mercy
struck off their fetters and they were free!
And there was loud cries of “Long life to noble Gladslone, the
Liberator of the Land of Donovans!”
And Hardy the bosom friend of Poleaxe Dickey the hero of Hyde Park,
protested loudly against Gladstone and his measure, and he and Dizzey
wept bitter tears, when they saw that they were licked.
And the land of donovans and buttermilk shouted, No surrender, faugh
o’ballagh! go it Gladstone, and the Sandys danced tullochgorum round
the rims of their porridge-pots, and in whiskey, success to the Church
Bill.
Thus endeth the lesson for the day.
LET US SAY.
From all Church monopoly, good Gladstone, save us.
Save us, good Gladstone.
From being compelled to keep the fat shepherds of every creed. Good
Queen deliver us.
Spare us, good Queen.
From maintaining such a large staff of idlers in silk aprons and shovel
hats, Friends of Reform, spare us.
Friends of Reform, spare us.
From all undue taxes in the shape of tenths and sucking pigs. Common
sense, save us.
Spare us our grunters, we beseech thee.
For the liberation of the exiled sons of Ireland, we thank thee, good
Gladstone!
In the name of the sons of Erin, we thank thee, oh, Gladstone.
Hear that, oh, Dizzey.
And now to Gladstone, the father of Reform, and the friend of the
people, be all thanks due both now and for evermore, and success to the
Irish Church Bill.
So be it.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles.
A LITANY ON THE IRISH LAND QUESTION.
In consequence of the gross mismanagement of John Bull’s possessions
at home and abroad, by unprincipled servants and dishonest stewards;
especially in the land of St. Patrick, we have met together without
distinction to country or creed, to consider the best means of
alleviating the sufferings of that ill-used country.
When the down-trodden sons of Erin shall dig their spades into their
own native soil, free from the stone and gravel of tyranny, then, and
not till then, shall the wrongs of Ireland cease.
Friends and Fellow Countrymen,
The country calls us in divers places to reform abuses, and assist the
unemployed, by offering new gates of labor, in place of those that
have been most cruelly shut at Woolwich and elsewhere, and although
the old saying says “Charity begins at home,” it is no reason why we
should forget our neighbour next door; therefore I pray and beseech
thee, oh! John Bull and Sandy, to sympathise with poor Brother Pat,
who for knocking his shillaleigh a little too hard about the heads of
the varmint, was popped into quod till the Almighty will of the people
shall compel the Lords of St. Stephen’s to let them go free.
_The Lesson for the Day is taken from one of the dark pages of Irish
History._
Now it came to pass when that renowned Irish Champion, Brian O’Lynn,
bequeathed his ghost to all the wakes in Tipperary, behold there arose
four kings to suck up the best of the buttermilk and dance with the
prettiest girls in Ould Ireland.
Then arose a Royal Judas among them, who sold his country to the Saxon
Harry of Fair Rosamond notoriety.
And it came to pass, after many years, Hooknosed Billy the Dutchman,
went over and deprived poor Jamie Stuart of his rights.
And he cried aloud to his redcoats, Down with the Spirit of Freedom!
and eat up all the good of the land, and let it be a refuge for
foreigners, and let the children of St. Patrick wander elsewhere.
Here endeth the Lesson.
_The Second Lesson is taken from the Irish Land Question._
Now it is well known that the curse of Ireland or any other country
is “Land Monopoly,” especially in our own country, where one man has
thousands of acres, and another poor fellow not enough whereon to rest
his aching bones.
For in the Emerald Isle the rich Landowner cries aloud to his Steward,
Steward! collect my rents in my absence, who, instead of studying the
prosperity of my tenants am squandering away in debauchery and vice the
hard earnings of a poor and oppressed people.
Then the Agent answers, I must put money in my purse, and straightway
he cries aloud to his tenantry, Lo, this is my master’s land and
all that is thereon, pay more rent or skedaddle, and make room for
strangers who are ready to pop into your place.
For the Irish land monopoly is like a landlord, who, when he turns his
tenant out of doors, stick to his goods and furniture, saying, these
are mine, are they not on my premises?
Thus endeth the Lesson.
LET US SAY,
Oh, Gladstone, Champion of Reform, and Friend of the People, intercede
for the poor Fenian prisoners.
We beseech thee, oh, Gladstone.
Ye undaunted Champions of Ireland, Sullivan and Moore, agitate for the
poor Fenian prisoners.
Agitate, oh, Patriots, we beseech thee!
To raise funds for the free emigration of our London poor, tax the
“Upper Ten,” we beseech thee, oh, Lowe!
Do, we beseech thee, there’s a good Lowe!
And, oh, most thrifty Chancellor, we pray thee to reduce the pocket
money of our Royal pensioners, for it is hard to pluck the poor hard
working-man’s pence, and let the idle children of mammon go free.
Hear that, oh, purple and fine linen!
And may it please your Majesty to grant a lease of Buckingham Palace to
the old and infirm Bishops of St. Stephen’s, that they may take daily
exercise in St. James’s Park, fill their aprons with bread crumbs, and
reverently feed the ducks!
Hear that, oh, Lawnsleeves?
And now to Gladstone, Bright, and Stuart Mill, chosen of the people,
let us render our thanks now and for ever!
AMEN.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
THE NEW INTENDED REFORM BILL
_Which is expected to come into operation as soon as the Lords and
Commons think fit._
The first Clause in this new intended Act is relative to Teetotalers.
BE IT ENACTED:--That any teetotaler who shall be known to drink more
than three gallons of cold water during the day, shall be chained
to the parish pump four hours, and pay two shillings extra, in each
quarter, water rate. So says the Reform Bill.
Clause 2nd. Any young lady who shall wear a crinoline more than twelve
yards in circumference, or containing more than thirteen steel hoops,
shall pay 5s. to the nearest hospital to where she resides to find
plasters for broken shins.
3rd.--Any workhouse-master who shall neglect to skim the fat off the
water in which thirty-six paupers have been bathed, shall be forced to
live upon skilly for five days, and work for eight hours at the crank.
4th.--Any lady over the age of seventy, who shall drink more than three
quarterns of gin before breakfast, unless she shall be suffering from
the cholic, shall be kept without snuff for a fortnight.
5th.--Any man who shall be known to get drunk, and beat his wife more
than once a day, shall be compelled to sleep at the foot of the bed for
one month; and if that does not cure him, he shall be confined in one
of her Majesty’s Gaols till a reformation shall take place.
6th.--And whereas we have received numerous complaints that a great
number of ladies’ pet dogs having been found smothered in the mud that
has been swept up and left by the roadside, the commissioners are
requested to see that the said mud shall be carted away at least once a
week, especially in rainy weather.
7th.--Any woman who shall bring forth more than two children at a
birth, she will not be allowed to sleep with her husband for two
months, unless the head-board shall be placed between them.
8.--And it having come under our notice, that many respectable females
have been much annoyed by second-hand dandies’ and counter-jumpers
puffing the smoke in their faces from their penny pickwicks, the
Reform Bill enacts that such fops shall be compelled to pay their last
quarter’s washing bill, and wear an unstarched dicky for six months.
9th.--And as we understand that many ladies belonging to a class known
as milliners’ assistants and bonnet builders, having been frequenting
different music halls, and passing themselves off as ladies of fortune,
on purpose to lead young men astray. Be it known to all whom it may
concern, that if they do not reform their ways they will have to pay
6d. per week to the Baby clothing Association, and their mamma’s will
be made acquainted with their goings on.
10th.--And as Reform is the order of the day, so Reform your tailors’
bills. There is a clause set apart for volunteers only:--it says that
any rifle volunteer found strutting about in a new uniform, shall be
compelled to produce two respectable persons not being volunteers, to
make oath that he has paid for the old ones.
11th.--Butchers will be compelled to reform their ways, and cease to
wag their chops about the steaks being so dear on account of the cattle
disease. And butchers selling meat that has died of the scarlatina,
will be compelled to live upon bullocks’ liver and sawdust for the
space of three months.
12th.--Any policeman who shall be known to be courting more than two
cooks and three housemaids at the same time, or be found with more
than five pounds of mutton in his possession, shall pay 2s. 6s. to the
Servants’ Aid Society, and not be allowed to look down any area for
three calender months.
13th.--Any boy over the age of seven years, who shall be found with a
pea-shooter concealed about him, shall be apprehended as a Fenian, and
be debarred from playing at cat for a fortnight.
14.--And as we have received intelligence that in many parts of London
there are lots of daring children that have been found dancing to the
tune of the Jolly Butcher Boy, and Oh, Cafuzelum! thereby disturbing
the public peace, they will henceforth be considered as dangerous
members of society.
15th.--And lately we have been much startled by hearing that numbers
of evil-disposed paupers in the parishes of Marylebone, St. Luke’s and
Chelsea, have refused to crack stones at 1s. 3d. per yard, unless such
stones are parboild! A clause in the Beform Bill says that such paupers
who offend in the like manner, shall be sentenced to penal servitude
for one night in the casual ward of Lambeth work-house that being the
heaviest sentence the law can inflict.
16.--And any cabman or ’bus-conductor are empowered by the new Reform
Bill to charge double fare for any person or persons weighing over
eighteen stone; but no cabman shall charge more than one shilling
over and above his legal fare, excepting to Members of Parliament or
disorderly persons.
17.--No milkman will be allowed to mix more than two gallons of water
with one of milk, excepting when the said milk is over-proof, and has a
creamy appearance.
18th.--And no baker shall employ any man who is capable of eating more
than four pounds of meat for his dinner, as we have had many complaints
about people’s joints looking in a state of rapid consumption after
coming from the oven, as if they had taken to fretting.
19th.--And all persons contemplating suicide, are earnestly requested
not to drown themselves, as bodies lying too long in the Thames cause
the water to become very unwholesome.
20th and last.--And by virtue of the Reform Bill, any married couple
who can prove that they have never quarrelled since they were first
married, will be entitled to the blessings of universal suffrage.
So says the Reform Bill.
HENRY DISLEY, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles.
THE NEW ACT OF PARLIAMENT.
[Illustration]
The First Clause in this new intended Act of Parliament is relating to
the Bakers. It says: Be it enacted that all master bakers who shall
mix, or cause to be any spurious ingredient in his bread, in the shape
of bean-flour, pea-flour, starch or alum, or use more than six stone of
potatoes with one sack of flour, thereby robbing the poor man of part
of his hard earnings, he shall be popped in his own oven directly after
the batch is drawn, and not come out till he is half-baked. And every
journeyman who dips his fingers into the people’s dishes, shall not be
allowed to have more than three dead men for the next month.
2. Any Butcher who is known to give short weight, or sell, or cause to
be sold, any part of any ox, cow, calf, sheep, or pig, that shall have
died with the measles, erysipelas, hooping cough, or any other disease,
he is to be fattened and fed on sheep’s blood and sawdust for three
months.
3. Any Publican that makes more than three butts of beer out of one; or
use nux vomica, salt, treacle, or horses’ liver in doctoring the same,
or not filling his pots within one inch and a half of the top, he must
drink eight quarts of his stale beer, directly after a thunderstorm.
4. Any Teetotaler who drinks more than seven quarts of double stout,
or one pint of gin, rum, or brandy, unless so ordered by his medical
adviser, he must be chained to the nearest drinking fountain for
twenty-four hours.
5. Any Tailor who is so fond of garden-stuff, as to cabbage half the
cloth entrusted to him by any customer to make up, it shall be in the
power of any magistrate to compel him either to walk nine times round
St. Paul’s with a sleeve-board tied to his back, or to sit on his hot
goose for one hour.
6. Any Shoemaker, Bootmaker, or Cobler, who is known to put less than
three stitches to the inch, or leave more than one score of pegs
sticking up in his customers’ boots, must live upon lumps of wax for
three days, and pay 5s. to the hospital for cripples.
7. Any man who is known to ill-use his wife, or strike her with
anything harder than a kitchen poker, or grumble if the child wet his
shirt more than six times in one night, must sleep at the foot of the
bed for one calendar month.
8. Any Barber, or barber’s clerk, who when shaving a customer shall cut
more than one inch off the said customer’s chin, or cram more than a
pint of soap suds into his mouth, is ordered to bite three inches off
his own pole, or live upon hair shavings for a week.
9. Any Policeman who shall be known to have less than six ounces of
hair on his upper lip, or fail to inspect the cupboards of the houses
on his beat, must forfeit his claim to being rated sergeant, and be
kept without mutton for three months.
10. Any Milliner, dress maker, or fast young girl who may be seen
walking with a chignon larger than a porter’s knot, and over 12 pounds
in weight, she must pay a fine of 5s. a-year to find wigs for those
that are baldpated.
11. Any puffing Grocer who shall be known to be so very kind as to
present his customers with sugar basins or milk jugs, and try to
persuade them that he is selling better tea for 2s. per pound than
others can for 5s. shall be treated as a man who is off his chump and
forthwith be taken to Bedlam, or the nearest lunatic asylum to where he
resides.
12. Any woman who shall be known to be gadding about from house to
house, attending to other people’s business instead of minding her own,
shall be made to stand at the door of the parish church with her nose
stuck in the key hole, during the service, and wear a ticket on her
back, with the words Paul Pry written thereon.
13. Any married Postman who shall be known to wink at, or squeeze the
hand of any cookmaid, nurse-maid, or any other pretty young girl, while
delivering his letters, his wife shall be empowered to flog him with a
wet dish-clout the whole length of his beat.
14. Any nursemaid or greasy cook, who shall have more than two soldiers
cuddling her at one time in the kitchen, shall give her next quarter’s
wages to the nearest lying-in-hospital.
15. Any young man, who while riding a dandy horse or velocipede,
knocking the bark from off his nose more than three times in one week,
shall not be allowed to mount one again without being attended by his
nurse.
16. Any young virgin over sixty, that has remained single up to that
time; and cannot make oath that she has not been kissed at least a
score of times by some nice young man, shall be compelled to find meat
for half the cats, no matter whether they are black, white, carrotty,
or tabby, that are found within one mile of where she resides.
Lastly. And in addition to the penalties here laid down, any person
failing to attend to, and breaking one or more of these clauses, they
shall be taken to the nearest Union, and made to crack a bushel of
unboiled stones.
Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
THE NEW STREETS ACT.
The First Clause in this truly farcical and singular Act is relating to
all ‘regular’ but not ‘running’ dustmen:--
That it be enacted that no dustman or scavenger shall dare to sing out
dust oh! in a falsetto voice, between the hours of 10 in the morning
and 7 in the evening; and that all housekeepers or lodgers shall
place all their cabbage stumps, potatoe peels, or fish bones into a
frying-pan, dustpan, box or basket, chamber utensil, or any other
utensil that is at hand, and place them neatly along the kerb, so that
children may play at leap-frog on their way to school.
2. That no persons shall under any pretence leave any goods in the
streets for more than sixteen seconds and a half; and any baker resting
his basket for a longer space of time, shall for the first offence,
forfeit his basket, and for the second, be compelled to stand three
hours in a flour sack.
3. That no ox, pig, or ass, or any other kind of donkey shall be driven
through the streets without an order from Scotland yard, or the Police
Commissioners may detain them for ther own use.
And it is enacted that on and after the first day of November no cabman
shall ply for hire, unless his cab shall be illuminated; and moreover,
it is expected that each cabman shall be furnished with a transparent
hat, each hat to have a life-like photographic likeness of Sir R-- M--
stuck in the centre.
4. That no ’bus driver or conductor shall allow more than twenty-four
volunteers to ride on the roof at one time, and any female with a
crinoline more than twelve yards round shall not be allowed as an
inside passenger; and any person with more than thirteen stone of
useless fat, shall not be considered as a single fare. And it is
expected that each ’bus will be provided with a truck to transport all
such live lumber te their destination.
5. No walking sandwich will be allowed to parade the streets, and
no pavement to be disfigured with, ‘read Fun or Tommyhawk.’ And any
dandy seen strutting about in one of Moses’s Guinea Overcoats, will be
considered as a walking advertisement, and will be punished as the law
directs. No play bills, show bills, sale bills, nor bills of any kind
be seen in the public streets, and any quack doctor’s butler who shall
be seen giving out bills relative to extraordinary cures of incurable
cures shall be treated as a treasonable offender.
6. All carts, go-carts, or donkey carts, must keep a correct line, at
least four inches and a half from the kerb, and all nursemaids who are
seen out with a perambulator with more than two soldiers as an escort,
shall forfeit their last quarter’s wages.
7. And be it enacted that any pug-dog, lap-dog, poodle-dog, bull-dog,
who shall be found lurking about the street without being well
muzzled, so as to prevent them from picking up the stray bones; and
such dogs not giving their names and address to the police will be
treated as bad characters, and will be taken into custody,--that is
if the police can catch them--and be detained until their parents or
friends can be found.
8. And further that such dogs shall board and lodge at the nearest
station-house for three days free of expence, and provided with
such food a medical inspector shall think fit, but if not owned at
the end of that time they shall be treated as outcasts and executed
accordingly; and their bodies sold for what they will fetch, the
proceeds to go towards a fund for the relief of decayed pie shop
keepers.
9. No shoeblack will be allowed to polish up your understandings, nor
use the words, “shine your boots, sir,” without being duly licensed
according to Act of Parliament. And no costermonger, or costermonger’s
apprentice, shall dare to cry “ten a penny walnuts,” within four feet
of the footway; and any donkey braying without an order from the
Commissioners shall be taken into custody, and fed upon cabbage stumps
for one month.
10. With a view to suppressing all gaming, all betting men are
forbidden to meet more than three together in public thoroughfares, but
may victimise as many as they like in the back streets.
11. No owners of soup or cook shops shall dare to sell any stocking
pudding that has not got at least two plums and a half in a square
inch, or they will be compelled to swallow three quarts of double size
every day for a fortnight. No confectioner shall make or cause to be
made, any lollipops or sugar sticks measuring more than six inches in
length, and any children sucking any of larger dimensions in the public
streets will be considered as causing an obstruction, and punished
accordingly.
12. This Act is favourable to all cats as we find they are not
mentioned, so they are empowered to plunder our cupboards, and seranade
us with their nightly gambols on the tiles.
13. No boy under twenty years of age will be allowed to trundle a hoop
upon the footpath, except between the hours of twelve at night and six
in the morning.
14. No lady after the passing of this Act must wear a bonnet larger
than the bottom of a halfpenny bun, lest they should be afflicted with
the brain fever, nor have more hair sticking out behind than would
stuff a moderate side pillow-case.
15. No gent shall be allowed to wear whiskers that shall extend more
than four inches and a half from his face under the pain of being close
shaved with a carpenter’s hand-saw.
16. And all mothers will be compelled to keep a supply of soothing
syrup on hand, as no child will be allowed to cry during the prescribed
hours; and this Clause refers to all persons addicted to snoring, who
are hereby cautioned not to lay on their backs, for fear they should
disturb the public peace.
17. And as no one can be convicted unless seen by a policeman, the
public are requested to wait till that gentlemen is out of sight
before they violate any part of this Act.
18. And as evil doers will be punished by Mayne force, a placard to
that effect will be stuck on each lamp-post. So much for the New Police
Act.
God save the People!
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
THE POOR LAW CATECHISM.
Q. What is your name?
A. A Pauper.
Q. Who gave you that name?
A. The Board of Guardians, to whom I applied in the time of distress,
when first I became a child of want, a member of the workhouse, and an
inheritor of all the insults that poverty is heir to.
Q. What did the Board of Guardians do for you.
A. They did promise two things. First, that I should be treated like a
convicted felon, being deprived of liberty, and on prison fare. Lastly,
that I should be an object of oppression all the days of my life.
Q. Rehearse the Articles of thy belief.
A. I believe in the cruelty of Lord H--y B--m, the author of the
present Poor Law, and I also believe that these laws have caused the
death of tens of thousands by starvation and neglect.
Q. How many Commandments have you and such as you are to keep?
A. Ten.
Q. Which be they?
A. The same which the Poor Law Commissioners make in Somerset House,
saying, We are thy lords and masters, who have caused thee to be
confined as in bastiles, and separated thee and the wife of thy bosom,
and the children of thy love. 1st, Thou shalt obey no laws but ours.
2nd, Thou shalt not make to thyself any substitute for skilley, nor
the likeness of tea, or any other kind of food, or drink, except as is
allowed in the workhouse; for we are very jealous men, punishing with
severity any transgression against our laws. Should’st thou disobey in
this, we shall teach you a lesson that shall last thee all the days of
thy life. 3rd, Thou shalt labour hard, and for nothing, and none of
thy earnings shall be thy own. 4th, Remember the Sabbath day: six days
shalt thou labour hard, and have but little to eat; but the seventh
day is the Sabbath, wherein we cannot make you work, and so we give
you liberty for an hour or two, to save the parish the expense of your
Sunday dinner. 5th. Thou shalt honour the Poor Laws, the Commissioners,
and the Beadles; thou shalt take no offence at what they say or do, or
else thy days shall be made more miserable in the workhouse wherein
thou livest. 6th, Thou shalt commit murder by neglecting thy starving
children, for we will give thee no assistance to get them food. 7th,
Thou shalt learn to neglect the dear ties of nature, for we will
separate thee from the wife of thy bosom, and the children of thy love.
8th, Thou shalt rob thyself of the society and enjoyment of her whom
thou hast sworn to protect while life shall last. 9th, Thou shalt be a
false witness whenever a Pauper dies, and should the coroner or jury
ask you how you live, why tell them you live like lords, and are as
happy as princes. 10th, Thou shalt covet all thy neighbour is possessed
of, thou shalt covet his friends, his clothes, and all the comforts
which thou once had; yet shalt thou long in vain; for remember, oh,
pauper! that the motto of every workhouse is--“He who enters here
leaves all comforts behind.”
LINES ON THE DEATH OF AN OLD PAUPER.
Oh! Englishmen, come drop a tear or two,
While I relate a thrilling tale of woe,
Of one whose age demanded all the care
That love which aged pilgrims ought to share.
This poor old man, whose limbs refused to bear
The weight of more than eighty years of care,
Was brought before a beak, worse than a Turk,
And sent to gaol because he could not work,
Weep, sons of Britain, mourn your sires’ disgrace!
Weep, English mothers! hug your rising race,
And pray to Him, who gave your children breath,
They may not live to die this old man’s death,
In a dark dungeon he was close confined,
No friend to comfort, or to soothe his mind;
No child to cheer his loathsome dying bed,
But soon he rested with the silent dead,
Oh, ye who roll in chariots proud and gay,
Ye legal murderers! there will be a day,
When you shall leave all your riches behind,
A dwelling with the ever lost to find,
And your great Master, He whose name is good
Will hold you guilty of your brother’s blood.
THE SOLDIER’S CATECHISM.
[Illustration]
_Question._ What is your name?
_Answer._ Soldier.
_Q._ Who gave you that name?
_A._ The recruiting-sergeant, when I received the enlisting shilling,
whereby I was made a recruit of bayonets, bullets, and death.
_Q._ What did the recruiting-sergeant promise then for you?
_A._ He did promise and vow three things in my name. First, that I
should renounce all idea of liberty, and all such nonsense. Secondly,
that I should be well harassed with drill. And, thirdly, that I should
stand up to be shot at whenever called upon so to do; and I heartily
hope our Colonel will never call me into such a perilous position.
_Q._ Rehearse the Articles of thy Belief.
_A._ I believe in the Colonel most mighty, maker of Sergeants
and Corporals; and in his deputy the Major, who is an officer by
commission, and rose by turn of promotion, suffered the hardships of
the field-service, marching and fighting; he descended into trials;
after the wars he rose again; he ascended into ease, and sitteth on
the right hand of the Colonel, from whence he will come to superintend
the good from the bad. I believe in the Adjutant; the punishment of
the guard-room; the stopping of grog; the flogging with cats; and the
certainty of these things lasting. Amen.
_Q._ How many Commandments may there be?
_A._ Ten.
_Q._ What are they?
_A._ The same which the Colonel spake in the standing orders, saying, I
am thy Colonel and commanding officer, who commands thee in the field
and in quarters.
I. Thou shalt have no other Colonel but me.
II. Thou shalt not make to thyself any sergeant or corporal, that is in
any European regiment above, or in any Sepoy regiment below, neither
shalt thou salute them; for I thy Colonel am a jealous Colonel, and
visit the iniquities of my men unto the third and fourth with stripes,
and promote those who obey me and keep my standing orders.
III. Thou shalt not take the name of thy Colonel in vain, for I will
not call him a good man who shall do so.
IV. Remember that thou attend church parade. Six days shalt thou have
for drill and field-days; but on the seventh day thou shalt have no
drill, thou, nor thy fire-lock, nor thy pouch, nor thy pouch-belt, nor
thy ammunition, or any of thy appointments: for six days are sufficient
for these things, and I like to rest on that day; wherefore I order
church parade--attend to it.
V. Honour thy Colonel and thy Major, that thy comfort may be long in
the regiment you are in.
VI. Thou shalt not get drunk on duty.
VII. Thou shalt not be absent from drill.
VIII. Thou shalt not sell thy kit.
IX. Thou shalt not come dirty to parade.
X. Thou shalt not covet thy pay-sergeants’s coat, nor his place, nor
his pay, nor his sword, nor his perquisites, nor his wife, nor his
authority, nor any thing that is his.
_Q._ What do you chiefly learn by these commandments?
_A._ I learn two things: my duty towards my Colonel, and my duty
towards my pay-sergeant.
_Q._ What is your duty towards your Colonel?
_A._ My duty towards my Colonel is to believe in him, to fear him,
to obey all his orders, and all that are put in authority under him,
with all my heart; to appear before him as a soldier all the days of
my life; to salute him, to submit to him in all respect whatever; to
put my whole trust in him, to give him thanks when he promotes me, to
honour him and his commission, and to serve him as a soldier. Amen.
_Q._ What is your duty towards your pay-sergeant?
_A._ My duty towards my pay-sergeant is to attend to his directions, to
look to him for pay and allowances, and all supplies of clothing; to
borrow four shillings and give him five in return, to sign all books
and papers he may require, and to never doubt his word in any thing.
_Q._ Let me hear you say your prayers.
_A._ Our Colonel, high in rank, honoured be thy name; may thy promotion
come; thy will be done by thy sergeants, corporals, and privates. Give
me my daily allowance of pay; and forgive me my crimes as I should
forgive my comrade soldier. And lead me not to the triangles; but
deliver me from them; and thine shall be the honour, thine the power,
for ever and ever. Amen.
_Q._ What desirest thou in this prayer?
_A._ I desire my Colonel, our commanding officer, to extend his
kindness to me and all my comrades; that we may honour him, serve him,
and obey all his orders as we ought to do. And I pray unto him that he
will be merciful unto us, and forgive us our crimes; and that he will
lead us on to the defence of our country and Queen. And this I trust he
will for his honour and renown; and therefore I say, Amen, and Amen.
THE DRUNKARD’S CATECHISM.
[Illustration]
_Question._--What is your name?
_Answer._--Drunken Sot.
_Q._--Who gave you that name?
_A._--As drink is my idol, landlords and their wives get all my money;
they gave me that name in my drunken sprees, wherein I was made a
member of strife, a child of want, and an inheritor of a bundle of rags.
_Q._--What did your landlords and landladies promise for you.
_A._--They did promise and vow three things in my name, first, that I
should renounce the comfort of my own fire side; secondly, starve my
wife and hunger my children; thirdly, walk in rags and tatters, with my
shoe soles going flip flap all the days of my life.
_Catechist._--Rehearse the articles of thy belief.
_Answer._--I believe in the existence of one Mr Alcohol, the great
head and chief of all manner of vice, the source of nine-tenths of all
diseases; and I not only believe, but am sure that when my money is
gone and spent, the landlord will stop the tap and turn me out.
_C._--How many commandments have ye sots to keep?
_A._--Ten.
_C._--What be they.
_A._--The same which the landlord and landlady spake in the bar,
saying, We are thy master and thy mistress who brought thee out of the
paths of virtue, placed thee in the ways of vice, and set thy feet on
the road which leadeth to New South Wales.
I.--Thou shalt use no other house but mine.
II.--Thou shalt not make to thyself any substitute for intoxicating
drinks, such as tea, coffee, ginger-pop and lemonade; for I am a
jealous man, wearing the coat that should be on thy back, eating thy
children’s bread, and pocketing the money which should make thee and
thy wife happy all the days of thy life.
III.--Thou shalt not use my house in vain.
IV.--Remember that thou eat but one meal on the Sabbath day. Six days
shalt thou drink and spend all thy money, but the seventh day is the
Sabbath, wherein I wash my floor, mend my fires and make ready for the
company the remaining part of the day.
V.--Thou shalt honor the landlords, the landladies, and the gin-shops
with thy presence, that thy days may be few and miserable, in the land
wherein thou livest.
VI.--Thou shalt commit murder, by starving, hungering, and beating thy
wife and family.
VII.--Thou shalt commit self-destruction.
VIII.--Thou shalt sell thy wife’s and children’s bread and rob thyself
of all thy comforts.
IX.--Thou shalt bear false witness when thou speakest of the horrors,
saying, Thou art in good health when labouring under the barrel fever.
X.--Thou shalt covet all thy neighbour is possessed of; thou shalt
covet his house, his land, his purse, his health, his wealth, and all
that he has got, that thou mayest indulge in drunkenness, help the
brewer to buy a new coach, a pair of fine horses, a new dray, and a
fine building, that he may live in idleness all his days; likewise to
enable the landlord to purchase a new sign to place over his door, with
“Licensed to be drunk on the Premises” written thereon.
THE DRUNKARD’S LOOKING GLASS!
What will the drunkard do for ale?
Shall I unfold my dreadful tale?
Yes, I’ll unfold it if I can,
To benefit a drunken man.
What will a drunkard do for ale?
It will make a sober man turn pale,
Sell his hat and pawn his coat,
To satisfy his greedy throat.
Sell his stockings and his shirt,
Strut about in rags and dirt,
Sell his shoes from off his feet,
And barefoot go about the streets.
What will he do to gain his end?
He will deceive his dearest friend,
His crafty plans he will devise,
And tell the most atrocious lies.
What will a drunkard do for ale?
Dark and dismal grows my tale;
Sell his bedstead and his bed,
Nor leave a place to lay his head.
Sell his blankets and his sheets,
Lie in barns or walk the streets,
His thirsty soul will cry for more,
He’s starved and miserably poor.
He’ll beg for half-pence when he can,
And say he is a dying man;
But if three half-pence he has got,
He’ll go and find another sot.
As mean and shabby as himself,
A dirty, ragged, drunken elf,
In some alehouse corner seated,
Waiting longing to be treated.
They freely enter into chat,
If they can but catch a flat;
With every one they will be friends,
If they can but gain their ends.
Then with his bosom full of strife,
Each man goes home to beat his wife,
The children beat and sent to bed,
Because the wretches have no bread.
No meat, no butter have they got,
Such is the dwelling of a sot,
The wife in tears and ragged too,
Say, drunkard, is my statement true?
THE DRUNKARD’S FAREWELL TO HIS FOLLY!
Farewell landlords, farewell jerry’s,
Farewell brandy, wine, and sherry,
Farewell horrors and blue devils,
Farewell dens of midnight revels.
Farewell fires that have no coals on,
Farewell shoes that have no soles on,
Farewell children with wry faces,
Farewell to the pop-shop races.
Farewell wash and all wash vendors,
Farewell duns and all dun senders,
Farewell landlords and your spouses,
Farewell spiders and your houses.
Farewell to your noise and babble,
Farewell to your foolish gabble,
Farewell pockets that are empty,
Farewell landlords, you’ve had plenty.
London:--H. Such, Printer, 123, Union Street, Boro’--S.E. Established
1846.
NEW BEER HOUSE ACT,
To be observed by all Beer Sellers and Beer Drinkers throughout
England, and to be in force as long as the people will stand it.
Now it has pleased the Lords spiritual and temporal of this miscalled
free and happy England, to look with an eye of pity on the working
classes; and feeling for all those who are fond of their beer, have
passed a bill called the New Beer House Act, and all persons breaking
the same will have to look out for squalls.
Clause 1. Be it enacted, that any person wishing to open a place for
the sale of beer, wine, ale, cider, or swankey, shall give notice
of the same to the overseers, churchwardens, town crier, and parish
beadle, of the parish wherein he lives, and stick one on the door of
the church or chapel, if there is one, and if not, he must pin one on
the seat of his breeches, and walk round the said parish from ten in
the morning till five in the afternoon, for two consecutive Sundays, or
live upon skilly for one month.
2. Any person keeping a house for the sale of any land of fermented
liquor, and who shall dare to keep the said house open one moment after
the clock has said cut it, and sell one half pint of malt tea, he shall
for the first offence have his head shaved, and for the second shall be
imprisoned for a term not exceeding his natural life.
3. Any keeper of any refreshment house who shall have the cheek to
sell, or cause to be sold, one glass of cooper, or one quarter of
Watling’s pork feed to any person, without being cock sure that his
character is strictly moral, he shall not draw another drop for 12
calendar months. This clause does not refer to the tribe of Overend and
Gurney’s, or any one connected with the Albert Assurance Company, or,
in fact, any gentlemanly swindlers whatever.
4. No chandler shop keeper, fruit shop keeper, or shop for the sale of
lollipops, shall dare to sell small beer or shandy-gaff to any wayfarer
during the hours stated in the act, or they will have to pay 40s., and
forfeit the swankey for Her Majesty’s own private use.
5. It is enacted that a body of vigilant officers from each, division
of police to be called the tasters, whose duty shall be to enter such
houses as they may think fit, swallow all they can find, and see that
none of the working classes get half seas over.
6. All brewers’ grooms, or draymen, shall sponge their horses on
Saturday night, lest they should smell of malt on the Sunday.
7. All persons who are in the habit of getting tight on Saturday night,
are requested to drink one quart of half-and-half before closing time,
lest they should be thirsty next morning.
8. All persons who have a custom of taking a stroll into the country
on a Sunday to get a blow after their week’s labour, or enjoy a picnic
at Hampstead or Wimbledon, will do well to provide themselves with
stone bottles, labelled cold tea, as there will be no such a thing as
bona-fide travellers while the new Beer House Act is in force.
9. All persons are forbidden to use any bottles, jugs, glasses, or tea
cups that has contained beer on Saturday night, without well scalding
out on the Sunday morning.
10. And woe betide any woman who is caught with a flask containing
cholic drops in her pocket.
11. All cowkeepers or dairymen are cautioned against feeding their cows
on grains, lest the milk should give the tea a beery flavour.
12. All publicans and beer shop keepers are to place a wet blanket over
their chimney pots, close the windows, and stop up the key holes, lest
the smell should offend the framers of the New Beer House Act.
13. Any person who receives a visit from father, mother, brother, or
grandmother, during the prescribed hours, they must not dare to give
them one glass, they not being servants or lodgers.
And lastly, any person causing the conviction of one score of
offenders against the above Act, will receive, as a reward, a free
admission to the Crystal Palace at the next meeting of the Temperance
League.
So says the New Beer House Act.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
GRAND CONVERSATION ON BRAVE NELSON.
As some heroes bold, I will unfold, together were conversing,
It was in the praise of Nelson, as you shall quickly hear;
Said one unto the other, if we could behold another,
In old England like Nelson, we proudly would him cheer.
From Norfolk it is known he came, he was a man of noted fame,
He struggled hard for liberty, as every Briton knows,
In battle he would loudly cry, I’ll gain the victory or die,
This grand conversation on brave Nelson arose.
Now at Copenhagen and the Nile, he gave command with a smile,
He said, “Stand firm, my British tars, the enemy to meet;
Prepare each gun--all terror shun, but never do surrender!
The champion of the briny waves was Nelson and his fleet;
When Capt. Hardy, you may see, who always done his duty free,
Brave Collingwood the enemy undaunted would oppose,
He caused some thousands to be slain while fighting on the raging main,
This grand conversation on brave Nelson arose.
Many a youth, I’ll tell the truth, in action have been wounded
Some left their friends and lovers in despair upon their native shore
Others never returned again, but died upon the raging main,
Causing many a one to cry “my son” and widows to deplore,
When war was raging, it is said, men for their labour were paid,
Commerce and trade flourishing, but now it ebbs and flows,
And poverty it does increase, though Britons say we live in peace,
This grand conversation on brave Nelson arose.
Some hardy tars they did survive, in Greenwich College now alive,
Will tell the deeds of Nelson and the battles that he won,
He never feared a cannon ball, till at Trafalgar he did fall,
No flinching from the enemy--no action he did shun;
He many powers did defeat, and never was that hero beat,
Neither would he surrender till he had thrashed his daring foes,
Altho’ he lost an eye and wing, he was loyal and true to his king,
This grand conversation on brave Nelson arose.
Trafalgar I will mention, if you will give attention,
It long has been recorded where brave Nelson fell and bled,
The officers around him, all human aid was found,
But were affected to the heart to find that he was dead.
The gallant tars were grieved sore to find Lord Nelson was no more,
All was in confusion in the ’midst of dying woes,
In rum they put him, it is said, and then to England him conveyed,
This grand conversation on brave Nelson arose.
Now in mem’ry of that hero’s loss, we understand at Charing Cross,
A monument of Nelson has been erected there;
An ancient building was pulled down, and an open space of ground
To commemorate the battle, it is call’d Trafalgar Square.
You British tars as do pass by, look up aloft and you will spy,
The visage of that hero respected as it shows,
Tho’ his remains are in decay, grim Death in action won the day,
This grand conversation on brave Nelson arose.
BATTLE _OF_ WATERLOO.
’Twas on the 18th day of June Napoleon did advance,
The choicest troops that he could raise within the bounds of France;
Their glittering eagles shone around and proudly looked the foe,
But Briton’s lion tore their wings on the plains of Waterloo.
With Wellington we’ll go, with Wellington we’ll go,
For Wellington commanded us on the Plains of Waterloo,
The fight did last from ten o’clock until the dawn of day,
While blood and limbs and cannon balls in thick profusion lay;
Their Cuirassieurs did quickly charge our squares to overthrow,
But Britons firm, undaunted stood, on the Plains of Waterloo.
The number of the French that at Waterloo were slain,
Was near sixty thousand all laid upon the plain;
Near forty thousand of them fell upon that fatal day,
Of our brave British heroes who their prowess did display.
It’s now the dreadful night comes on, how dismal is the plain,
When the Prussians and the English found above ten thousand slain,
Brave Wellington and Blucher bold most nobly drove their foes,
And Buonaparte’s Imperial crown was taken at Waterloo.
We followed up the rear till the middle of the night,
We gave them three cheers as they were on their flight,
Says Bony, d--m those Englishmen, they do bear such a name,
They beat me here at Waterloo, at Portugal and Spain.
Now peace be to their honoured souls who fell that glorious day,
May the plough ne’er raise their bones nor cut the sacred clay,
But let the place remain a waste, a terror to the foe,
And when trembling Frenchmen pass that way they’ll think of Waterloo.
London:--H. Such, Printer and Publisher, 117, Union Street,
Borough.--S.E.
A NEW SONG ON THE TIMES.
Come old and young and rich and poor,
And listen to our song,
I’ll give to you some good advice,
And will not keep you long:
If you have one shilling to spend,
Go down to Mr Ward,
And there you’ll get three pounds of beef,
That’s just come from abroad.
CHORUS.
So there never was such doings in Old England before.
Now beef has come to fourpence a pound,
It’s a pity you should want,
Folks talk about America!
But don’t you Emigrate.
But stop at home in England,
If you’ve any work at all,
For provisions will be cheap,
If wages be but small.
The Butchers now they may give o’er,
Selling their stinking meat,
For there’s many a hundred weight been sold
That never was fit to eat;
And now when you do walk the street,
If you should happen to turn your eye,
It’s how-do-you-do? good morning, man,
As you are passing by.
There were hundreds in this country
O! ’tis true what I do tell,
That could not get a pound of meat,
Or hardly get a smell;
But since the Tariff Bill is pass’d,
Many hundreds will be fed,
With plenty of good pork and beef,
And likewise good cheap bread.
Now beef and mutton has come down,
And so is pork and flour too,
Which is what this country wanted,
A many years ago;
The cutlers now may go to work,
And grind away like bricks,
For now we’ll carve with knives and forks,
Instead of porridge sticks.
The farmers do not like those laws,
From what I’ve heard them say,
Because the corn will be so cheap,
And so will straw and hay,
If you buy a pennyworth of eggs,
You will get three or four,
And as for churning butter,
Why they say they’ll soon give o’er.
So to conclude and make an end,
And finish up my lines,
The poor will find in England
A difference in the times,
For work it will be plentiful.
And provisions will be low,
And that is what a poor man wants,
Wherever he does go.
[Illustration]
THE AGONY BILL.
Dear me what a change has seen our nation,
Since we’ve reformed our legislation,
Each M.P. as now the fashion,
Brings a new bill every session.
Because one did in the way of peace act,
By getting past the New Police Act;
Another wants a grand reversion,
So brings you a Sabbath Bill Coercion!
At this you’ll laugh for its meant to gag you,
This is the bill of Saint Andrew Agnew.
This worthy, pious emasculator,
Who talks of setting your morals straighter,
Vows by the Gods your pleasures to be balking,
He’ll put a stop to your Sunday walking,
When persons are preaching, then will be search time
To collar them that’s walking in church time,
The tenants of houses and those of floors then,
Must not venture out ot doors then.
All those who brew their home brew’d beer then,
At times I’m sure will quake with fear then,
And dread to let it in the vat lay,
Lest it should happen to work on that day,
Then if you’re seized with cough or phtisic,
You must not even swallow physic!
For ’its decreed all rest that one day,
So not even salts must work on Sunday!
Dumb animals they’ll be strangely puzzled,
When Sunday comes each dog must be muzzled,
The cocks must on their roosts abide up,
And to stop their crowings their beaks must be tied up,
A noise with contempt will the act be treating,
The calves and the sheep must be kept from bleating,
The dairies must close from twelve to twelve, sir,
And as to the cows they must milk themselves, sir.
No duck must lay, no cat must kitten,
The hen must leave her nest through sitting,
Though painful is the separation,
She must quit the scene of incubation!
Married men will to quake be inclined then,
For fear their wives should be confined then,
For as no labour’s allowed on Sundays,
Of course she must put it off till the Mondays.
John Harkness, Printer, 121, Church Street, Preston.
A NEW SONG ON THE REPEAL OF THE CORN LAWS.
Come every heart rejoice with me,
We soon will have a glorious spree,
Cheap food once more we soon shall see,
Throughout the British Nation,
The ports they are thrown open wide,
And ships will mount the foaming tide,
And plenty to our shores will glide,
From every foreign Nation,
For Bob and Arthur met one day,
Those words I heard them for to say.
To us the people did long pray,
Delay it is a danger.
CHORUS.
So rejoice and sing the ports are free,
Such thumping loaves you soon will see.
With pies and dumplings, O what glee,
Throughout the British Nation.
The Cabinet they thought it right,
To put this famine to the flight,
And not to tempt a nation’s might,--
The belly gives no quarter,
They one and all gave their consent,
Their stubborn hearts they soon were bent,
And the bread tax chains they quickly rent,
That long oppress’d this nation,
The van was led by Bobby Blue,
And the boasting cock of Waterloo,
For a Revolution would not do,
They dread its desperation.
The bonded grain must soon come out,
It will give monopolists the gout,
And put them to the right about,
To meet this competition;
Their rusty bars and locks so strong,
Must open wide before it’s long;
With grief they’ll hear our merry song,
For long they’re liv’d in clover;
The granaries with corn and flour
Into our markets will pour,
And the bread tax loaf we’ll soon devour,
That caus’d such desolation.
So men and women and children too,
Rejoice, you’ll soon have work to do,
In spite of all the bread tax crew;--
Rejoice--they are defeated.
Your teeth must soon commence the mill,
And grind away with right good will,
Your bellies every one can fill
With puddings, pies, and dumplings,
So women all shout out huzza.
Hot cakes at will with good strong tea,
And that honest debts you soon will pay,
To your neglected belly.
The poor will soon have to turn about,
With corporations they’ll strut out,
With American flour cheap and stout,
Their bellies to adorn;
The bones that now are thin and small,
In loads of flesh they soon will fall,
And on a cab will have to call,
O what an alteration!
Away with the hungry cry that’s been,
Such mumping of bread was never seen!
Long life attend our gracious Queen--
A woman rules the nation.
A NEW SONG, OPENING THE PORTS.
(Composed by E. Wrigley for his Three Strings.)
Men, women, and children, come list to my story--
The ports are thrown open, your bellies may glory;
Provisions must drop now, to satisfy many,
Who long before this time could scarcely get any;
For bread’s been so dear it was hard to be gotten,
Potatoes so scarce, and one half of them rotten,
These hard times I fear will ne’er be forgotten;
But now wag your jaws, lad, the ports are thrown open.
CHORUS.
Chaw, chaw--banish this ruin, lads;
Your grinders in motion, it’s keep them a-going, lads;
Wag, wag, wag your jaws--let them be going, lads;
Provisions must fall, now the ports are thrown open.
In Ireland and Scotland the famine has raged so,
Hundreds and thousands--old, young, middle-aged, too;
Food’s been so scarce and so dear through the nation,
That many grim death clam’d died through starvation.
But let us all hope now these hard times are ended,
Provisions come down fast, and trade be mended,
That poor folk may live by their labour--God send it,
Forget what is past, now the ports are thrown open.
These millers and swailers, and other corn dealers,
Their granaries well stocked with corn and meal is;
In hopes of bread rising, from market they stop it--
These clam-gutted robbers--but now they must drop it.
The grain that in warehouses years has been bonded,
Must now be brought out--it’s our right to demand it;
From all foreign shores fresh supplies will be landed,
In spite of the tyrants, the ports are thrown open.
The rich, with their treasure, can roll at their leisure;
They know not, they feel not, for nothing but pleasure.
Full bellies don’t know what an empty one’s feeling,
Enough to set hundreds that’s honest a-stealing;
And farmers, now mind it, your corn quickly grind it,
And bring it to market, or you’ll be behind it;
And ’tatoes must drop, too--old chaps, you will find it,
The corn’s coming free, now the ports are open.
This dropping of food, instead of its rising,
To some of the bakers has come most surprising;
Such stocks they’ve laid in, thinking of making riches,
Through this fall of bread some will dirty their breeches!
The stores that’s hid up, now they out must be bringing,
Or else a dead weight on their hands will be ringing,
While sighing and crying we’ll merrily be singing--
Come, drop your bread, bakers, the ports are thrown open.
Set your pots on the fire which of late has been empty,
Pies, dumplings, and puddings, there soon will be plenty;
And ’tatoes must fall, too, for one thing remember,
All food’s to come free from the first of September;
And ships from all parts, now they are got in motion,
Their canvas well spread are a-ploughing the ocean,
To bring in cheap food from each foreign nation,
So, lasses and lads, shout, the ports are all open.
So now to conclude and finish my ditty,
This filling of bellies it sounds very pretty.
To thousands of jaws that look haggard and thin too,
So chuck away lads, your past time to regain now;
And butchers, your flesh meat may now be dropping,
Such rattling of grinders, and porridge pots wopping,
For some when they start there will be no stopping--
Shout huzza, lads and lasses, the ports are thrown open.
John Harkness, Printer, 121, Church Street, Preston.
A NEW SONG ON THE LIBERATION OF DANIEL O’CONNELL.
Harkness, Printer, 121, Church Street, Preston.
Rejoice you sons of Erin’s Isle throughout the British nation,
I hope you’ll listen unto me to this my true narration.
Each spy and knave that did enslave, thank God they are defeated,
For our loyal Patriots are free, and Daniel’s liberated.
CHORUS.
Cheer up my boys, our Parliament will soon be reinstated,
For our loyal Patriots are free, and Daniel’s liberated.
When the glorious news it did arrive throughout the Irish nation,
Both rich and poor, high and low, of every rank and station,
To Harold’s cross they did repair with hearts all elevated,
To see the star of Erin’s Isle, brave Daniel liberated.
These forty years brave noble Dan our rights he has defended;
In spite of vile Oppression, for Freedom he contended!
Our Parliament it’s his interest shortly to obtain, sir,
And gain for the land St. Patrick blest, with all his might and main,
sir.
Long life attend brave noble Dan, and all the brave Repealers,
They stood true to their country and their creed in spite of every
traitor;
Brave John O’Connell and Tom Steele we are bound for to remember,
With Barrat, Ray, Duffy and Gray, they never would surrender.
When they appeared before the court to defend their country’s cause, sir,
Our hero Dan, that matchless man, he did explain the laws, sir;
He says, my country’s rights I’ll defend while blood remains in my veins,
sir,
And we’ll ne’er desist, but still insist, till the Union I obtain, sir.
When the writ of error it was brought before the House of Lords, sir,
Lord Denman, Campbell and Cottingham did explain the laws, sir,
The Lord Chancellor and Brougham, their schemes were all defeated,
I’m sure the Tories will run mad since Dan is liberated.
So now my friends I will conclude these lines that I have penn’d, sir,
We’ll drink a health unto brave Dan, long may he live and reign, sir,
He’ll plant the Tree of Liberty once more in College Green, sir,
And while life remains brave noble Dan for ever he’ll wear the green,
sir.
A NEW SONG ON THE TIMES.
Good people all I pray draw near,
We have entered in another year,
The markets now they must come down,
Both in country and in town;
The farmers now begin to grin,
Their corn to market must bring in,
The ports are opened now you see,
In spite of all their roguery.
They’ve risen the barley, flour, and meal,
I think they must have hearts like steel,
And wages are so very low,
Fills poor men’s hearts with grief and woe;
The potatoes too, you all must know,
Have proved poor people’s overthrow,
If they had been good, I am very sure
They never would have rais’d the flour.
The rich have all things at command,
While poverty rages through the land,
And bread it is so very dear,
Draws from poor people many a tear;
The store houses are breaking down with grain,
No wonder that the poor complain,
In the midst of plenty you plainly see,
They are dying from want and poverty.
The Americans have provisions in store,
From the black sea they will send us more,
The millers and farmers will look blue,
They’ll not know which way for to do;
I hope that trade may flourish once more,
Upon this our native shore,
Then the working man will be right glad
To see his children well cloth’d and fed.
The maltsters and brewers they stamp and swear,
With sugar and treacle must brew their beer,
For all the malt that they do use,
Must all be made into barley loaves;
So drunkards all I tell to you true,
It’s old hock you must bid adieu!
No more of that will be I vow,
So you must drink all treacle now.
Now, to conclude and make an end,
I hope the times they soon will mend,
Send trade and commerce to our shore,
Then the working men will grieve no more,
In peace and unity, they will unite,
Then all the nation will be right,
I hope I have said nothing wrong,
So now I finish off my song.
[Illustration]
A NEW SONG.
Come gentlemen listen awhile,
And hear how they carry the jest on,
I’m sure it will cause you to smile,
Such fun there is at the Election.
To Brentford the Voters repair,
Two Knights of the Shire to elect,
Old Nero each Slave doth ensnare,
Whilst the Free vote for Byng and Burdett.
Fal de ral lal de ral lal de ral.
The mob are all silent and hush’d,
To hear Orator Tub on the green,
Some with laughter are ready to burst,
And others with malice spleen,
He tells you a terrible tale,
Of a Damn’d Diabolical Crew,
Who Innocents starv’d in a Jail,
And the worst of it is--IT IS TRUE!
Fal lal de ral.
There’s the case of poor Mary Rich,
Indeed ’tis a horrible story,
Much about it he’s not time to preach,
But look round and you’ll see it before you.
Can you such a monster approve,
Whose voice on the Hustings doth falter?
His conduct your anger must move--
Give your Vote--give the Rascal a Halter.
Fal de ral.
At four the Poll closes and then
His heart with fear bounces and capers,
’Till his carriage he’s safely within,
Surrounded by all the Thief-takers.
There’s Myrmidons sturdy and bold,
For the Quorum they care not a button.
They’d bother em all I am told,
If led on by Commodore Dutton.
Fal lal de ral.
But Byng is a Man you’ve twice try’d,
From his duty he never did flinch,
He scorns Aristocracy’s pride,
And Despots will fight inch by inch.
Then Electors now give him a voice.
And however the Tyrants may fret,
Join him with the man of your choice,
Independent Sir Francis Burdett.
Fal de ral.
Sir Francis, the Friend of the Poor,
Ever staunch in Humanity’s cause,
Disdaining a minister’s lure,
Stands forth in support of our laws,
His Mind is untainted and pure,
Then him place at the head of the set,
In his hands Freedom’s Cause is secure,
For Liberty dwells in the soul of Burdett.
Fal de ral lal de ral lal de ral.
J. Catnach, Printer, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials.
FLEETWOOD, STRICKLAND, AND REFORM TRIUMPHANT.
For Fleetwood and Strickland hurrah!
Hurrah, for the Radicals true,
Now the polling is done, and the election is won
By the Banners of Green and Sky-blue;
The Tories may now go and mourn,
No longer they’ll carry the sway,
For the brave Preston lads, the Whigs and the Rads,
Have torn all their laurels away.
For the Preston Reformers hurrah,
A glorious struggle they’ve made,
To pull tyranny down, and victory crown
The friends of Reform and Free Trade;
No longer shall liberty’s sons,
Crouch down to the bigotted few;
Now the election is won Reform marches on,
In spite of what Tories can do.
So hurrah for the Black Fleet, hurrah!
For the spinners and weavers also,
Now the banners shall wave, and the music shall play,
And our members in triumph shall go;
The faction that dared to oppose,
Before the voice of the people does fly;
So the victors shall sing till the welkin does ring,
With voices that reach to the sky.
To the land that we live in hurrah!
Where the banner of freedom’s unfurl’d,
May it soon have to wave o’er the last tyrant’s grave,
And liberty reign o’er the world;
The children that yet are unborn,
Shall sing of the deeds we have done,
How their fathers so brave would no longer be slaves,
But fought till the battle was won.
[Illustration]
PETERLOO.
See! see! where freedom’s noblest champion stands,
Shout! shout! illustrious patriot band,
Here grateful millions their generous tribute bring,
And shouts for freedom make the welkin ring,
While fell corruption and her hellish crew
The blood-stained trophies gained at Peterloo.
Soon shall fair freedom’s sons their right regain,
Soon shall all Europe join the hallowed strain,
Of Liberty and Freedom, Equal Rights and Laws,
Heaven’s choicest blessing crown this glorious cause,
While meanly tyrants, crawling minions too,
Tremble at their feats performed on Peterloo.
Britons, be firm, assert your rights, be bold,
Perish like heroes, not like slaves be sold,;
Firm and unite, bid millions be free,
Will to your children glorious liberty,
While cowards--despots long may keep in view,
And silent contemplate the deeds on Peterloo.
John Harkness, Printer, Preston.
[Illustration]
THE STATE OF Great Britain, OR A TOUCH AT THE TIMES.
_TUNE--Irish Molly O._
As old John Bull was walking one morning free from pain,
He heard the Rose, the Shamrock, and the Thistle to complain,
An alteration must take place together they did sing,
In the Corn Laws and Poor Laws, and many another thing.
CHORUS.
Conversing on the present time together they did range,
All classes thro’ Great Britain now appear so very strange,
That England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales must quickly have a change.
The railroads all through England have great depression made;
Machinery of every kind has put a stop to trade;
The innkeepers are weeping in agony and grief,
And the ostlers swear they’ll buy a rope and go to felo-de-se.
The steam boats to old Belzebub the watermen do wish,
For they say they’ve nearly ruined them and drowned all the fish,
Of all their new inventions that we have lately seen--
There was none begun or thought upon when Betty was the queen.
Behold the well-bred farmer, how he can strut along,
Let a poor man do whatever he will he’s always in the wrong,
With hard labour and low wages he hangs his drooping head,
They won’t allow him half enough to find his children bread.
The farmers’ daughters ride about well clad and pockets full,
With horse and saddle like a queen and boa like a bull,
In their hand a flashy parasol, and on their face a veil,
And a bustle nearly seven times as big as a milking pail.
The nobles from the pockets of John Bull are all well paid;
Sometimes you hardly know the lady from the servant maid,
For now they are so very proud, silk stockings on their legs,
And every step they take you think they walk on pigeon’s eggs.
The tradesman he can hardly pay his rent and keep his home,
And the labourer has eighteen pence a day for breaking stones,
In former days the farmer rode a donkey or a mule,
There never was such times before since Adam went to school.
Some can live in luxury while others weep in woe,
There’s very pretty difference now and a century ago,
The world will shortly move by steam it may appear strange,
So you must all acknowledge that England wants a change.
[Illustration]
A NEW SONG OF THE ELECTION.
“THE CAP, THOSE WHOM IT FITS MAY WEAR IT.”
O the general Electiom is coming they say,
What an huhabolu and a bustle there’ll be,
With the new candidates to be Parliament men,
And the old ones who wished for to go back again.
There’ll be all sorts of shuffling and all kinds of rigs,
There’s some will call Tories and some will call Whigs,
There’s some will wear colours, blue, orange, and red,
And to prove which is best, they’ll break each other’s heads.
O the general Election is coming they say,
What canvassing, coaxing, and thumping there’ll be,
While some will shout ---- and ---- so clever,
And others bawl ---- and free trade for ever.