A—was an Addled-egg, of a pension most rare,B—was one B....y, that call’d her his dear.
A—was an Addled-egg, of a pension most rare,B—was one B....y, that call’d her his dear.
A—was an Addled-egg, of a pension most rare,B—was one B....y, that call’d her his dear.
A—was an Addled-egg, of a pension most rare,
B—was one B....y, that call’d her his dear.
T. That’s right, my boy.
P.
C—was a Chapel. St. Stephens by name,D—was the Dukes who sit there in shame.E—was an Eldon, who’d put down penny papers,F—was one Franky, who now can cut capers.G—was the Gammon for the people invented,H—was one Hobby with cabbage stumps pelted.
C—was a Chapel. St. Stephens by name,D—was the Dukes who sit there in shame.E—was an Eldon, who’d put down penny papers,F—was one Franky, who now can cut capers.G—was the Gammon for the people invented,H—was one Hobby with cabbage stumps pelted.
C—was a Chapel. St. Stephens by name,D—was the Dukes who sit there in shame.E—was an Eldon, who’d put down penny papers,F—was one Franky, who now can cut capers.G—was the Gammon for the people invented,H—was one Hobby with cabbage stumps pelted.
C—was a Chapel. St. Stephens by name,
D—was the Dukes who sit there in shame.
E—was an Eldon, who’d put down penny papers,
F—was one Franky, who now can cut capers.
G—was the Gammon for the people invented,
H—was one Hobby with cabbage stumps pelted.
T. Very good, my lad.
P.
J—was a Jury, whose verdict was right.K—it was Knowledge, that’s power and might.L—it was Loyalty, that once reigned in each breast,M—was the Millions that now are oppress’d.
J—was a Jury, whose verdict was right.K—it was Knowledge, that’s power and might.L—it was Loyalty, that once reigned in each breast,M—was the Millions that now are oppress’d.
J—was a Jury, whose verdict was right.K—it was Knowledge, that’s power and might.L—it was Loyalty, that once reigned in each breast,M—was the Millions that now are oppress’d.
J—was a Jury, whose verdict was right.
K—it was Knowledge, that’s power and might.
L—it was Loyalty, that once reigned in each breast,
M—was the Millions that now are oppress’d.
T. Very true, my boy.
P.
N—was a Noble, a mad Scottish fool,O—was O’Connell, of the Patriot’s school.P—was the Peelers, whose glory is past,Q—was a Question—how long will they last?R—was Reform, that was spoilt in the nursing,S—it was S——y, that old Ireland’s cursing.T—was the Times of Old England’s distress.U—is the Unions Placemen wish to suppress.V—is the Verdict of a few honest men,W—is the Whigs, who’d that verdict suspend,X—is the cross with which it will end.
N—was a Noble, a mad Scottish fool,O—was O’Connell, of the Patriot’s school.P—was the Peelers, whose glory is past,Q—was a Question—how long will they last?R—was Reform, that was spoilt in the nursing,S—it was S——y, that old Ireland’s cursing.T—was the Times of Old England’s distress.U—is the Unions Placemen wish to suppress.V—is the Verdict of a few honest men,W—is the Whigs, who’d that verdict suspend,X—is the cross with which it will end.
N—was a Noble, a mad Scottish fool,O—was O’Connell, of the Patriot’s school.P—was the Peelers, whose glory is past,Q—was a Question—how long will they last?R—was Reform, that was spoilt in the nursing,S—it was S——y, that old Ireland’s cursing.T—was the Times of Old England’s distress.U—is the Unions Placemen wish to suppress.V—is the Verdict of a few honest men,W—is the Whigs, who’d that verdict suspend,X—is the cross with which it will end.
N—was a Noble, a mad Scottish fool,
O—was O’Connell, of the Patriot’s school.
P—was the Peelers, whose glory is past,
Q—was a Question—how long will they last?
R—was Reform, that was spoilt in the nursing,
S—it was S——y, that old Ireland’s cursing.
T—was the Times of Old England’s distress.
U—is the Unions Placemen wish to suppress.
V—is the Verdict of a few honest men,
W—is the Whigs, who’d that verdict suspend,
X—is the cross with which it will end.
I can’t say any more, sir.
T. There’s a good boy, now get your spelling book, and I will hear you read the Fable of the Ministers in Danger.
P. (Reading.) There was a Ministry in Danger of a Turn-out, and many were their opinions concerning the best plan to be adopted to secure their seats, when a noble Hermit said there was nothing so good as a Coercion Bill; an Ex-Chancellor (called Bags) said a Coercion Bill might do very well, but there was nothing so good nor so essential as the Suppression of the Penny Press; but their Wise and Grey old Leader being present said, gentlemen, you can do as you please, but take my word there is nothing like the Destruction of the Unions.
T. There’s a good child—now you sit down, and I’ll hear young Anti his spelling and meanings. Now Anti.
P. Here, sir.
T. Spell me Attwood. (The boy here spells the words, and gives the meanings as follows.) A tough wood of a good grain, grows in Birmingham, and is used as the principal material in building up the Unions.
Brougham. A broom worn to a stump, formerly the Queen’s own, but now owned by none.
Callthorpe. A word despised by the Whigs, but will ever live in the hearts of the People.
Dan. A Patriot of the land of Coercion, where St. Patrick banished the toads, and Stanley the freedom.
Eldon. Old Bags, one that shed an abundance of crocodile tears without one drop of pity.
Frank. A pretended friend to the people, arrived at his second childishness, and plays at Shuttlecock with the Electors of Westminster.
Grey. A dealer in humbugs: who behaved as a father to the people by giving them that which they asked for—The Bill, the whole Bill, andNothing but the Bill!
Hobby. A Westminster Rat, who had so often received the favours of the people that at last they had nothing to give but cabbage stumps, which he received in showers at Covent Garden.
Justice. A balance between Might and Right, but always leaning to power and riches.
King. A title of Monarchy, and Idol of an immense weight.
Loyalty. A word nearly threadbare in some countries.
Mouth. A part of the human body padlocked by law.
Peelers. A body of great Force. Brave and noble conquerors of an un-armed and peaceable people.
Reform. A word that filled the mouths of thousands, but the stomachs of few; a thing without benefits.
Truncheon. A knock-down argument of power, an instrument of the Whigs.
Union. A word despised by all Oppressors.
Verdict. A word lately known as a Terror to the Blues, but the Glory of others.
T. There’s a good boy, now read me the Fable of the Mountain and the Mouse.
P. (Reading.) There was a Bill which made a great noise in a certain country for many years, and they said it was in Labour, and the People looked with hopes for a Production of great Benefits, and great was their joy at the thoughts, when after many months pain and anxiety, it produced a Mouse.
T. I hope my children, this will be a warning to you, never build your hopes on the promises of those who are reaping the harvest of your labour, for they will take away your Substance, and leave you the Shadow to feed upon.
You trusted to Whigs, and the Tories turn’d out,Now which of the two is the best there’s a doubt;For the Tories and Whigs are all birds of a feather,May the D——l come soon and take both together.J. MORTON.
You trusted to Whigs, and the Tories turn’d out,Now which of the two is the best there’s a doubt;For the Tories and Whigs are all birds of a feather,May the D——l come soon and take both together.J. MORTON.
You trusted to Whigs, and the Tories turn’d out,Now which of the two is the best there’s a doubt;For the Tories and Whigs are all birds of a feather,May the D——l come soon and take both together.
You trusted to Whigs, and the Tories turn’d out,
Now which of the two is the best there’s a doubt;
For the Tories and Whigs are all birds of a feather,
May the D——l come soon and take both together.
J. MORTON.
Quick, Printer, 42, Bowling Green Lane, Clerkenwell, and at 8, Little Paternoster Row, Spitalfields.
Bill.—Good morning, Jack, I’m glad to see you. What’s the meaning of all these Spinners, Piecers, Weavers, Winders, Grinders, Strippers, Carders, Doffers, Stretchers, Throstle Spinners, Bobbin Winders, Frame Tenders, and all those folk that work in these places with big chimneys at top of um’ walking about?
Jack.—Why, if thou recollects, a few months back there wur great talk about the Corn Laws going to come off, and all these big chaps in the Parliament House, and all these Factory Lords of Lancashire, said if the Corn Laws wur repealed that poor people would get plenty of bread for little money, work would be plentiful, and wages would be a great deal higher; but instead of that, bread’s dearer, wages is lower, and factories are on short time.
Bill.—Yes, Jack, I recollect hearing people talk about a lot of chaps that wur going to bring such times as wur never seen before, they said that Bobby Peel and Dicky Cobden, and a great many chaps was going to give us cheap bread, and they said that we should have plenty of work and get good wages for it, but I’ve only work’d ten weeks since that corn bill as they call it past, and I got less wages for it too, Jack.
Jack.—These big cotton masters of Lancashire want to drop poor people’s wages, so to accomplish it they’re only working four days a week, so that when they start full time again, they can drop the people’s wages.
Bill.—Well, but Jack, don’t you know when the corn bill passed, these Masters gave a great sum of money to rejoice and have grand processions in honour of it passing.
Jack.—Don’t you see, Bill, it is poor people that must pay for it now, for they must work for less wages, or else for short time.
Bill.—Yes, but Jack, there’s several factories that’s stopping for a month or two, and some working none at all, and a great deal breaking down; what’s the reason of that, eh Jack?
Jack.—Why the reason of them stopping a month or two is, they want to get rid of their old hands; so that when they start again they can have all fresh hands, and reduce their wages. As for them that are breaking down, it’s a scheme they’ve got, it’s these chaps that rejoiced so much at the time the bill passed, and they are ashamed to tell the people that they’ll have to work for less wages or short time, so they are breaking down on purpose.
Bill.—Well, I think you’re somewhere about right, Jack, for there is a deal of factory hands that are walking about and has nothing to do, so you’ve learnt me something, Jack.
Jack.—I bought a new song about these Factory Masters and their short time system, and if you’ll stop you shall hear it too.
You working men of England one moment now attend,While I unfold the treatment of the poor upon this land,For now-a-days the Factory Lords have brought the labour low,And daily are contriving plans to prove our overthrow.CHORUS.So arouse you sons of Freedom the world seems upside down,They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and town.What a fuss there was in England, Ireland, and Scotland too,On the passing of the Corn Bill and the good that it would do,But since it’s past Meat got so high which makes poor people pine.If it would do good it’s time it did for factories are on short time.For when the bill was in the house they said it would do good,To the working man it has not yet, I only wish it would,For factories are on short time wherever you may go,And the masters all are scheming plans to get our wages low.There’s different parts in Ireland, it is true what I do state,There’s hundreds that are starving, for they can’t get food to eat,And if they go unto the rich to ask them for relief,They bang their doors in their faces as if they were a thief.Alas! how altered are the times, rich men despise the poor,And pay them off quite scornful at their door,And if a man is out of work his parish pay is small,Enough to starve himself and wife, his children and all.In former times when Christmas came we had a good big loaf,Then beef and mutton plenty were, and we enjoyed them both,But now a days such altered ways and different is the times,If starving and ask relief you’re sent to a Whig bastile.So to conclude and finish these few verses I have made,I hope to see before it’s long men for their labour paid,Then we’ll rejoice with heart and voice and banish all our woes,But before we do old England must pay us what she owes.
You working men of England one moment now attend,While I unfold the treatment of the poor upon this land,For now-a-days the Factory Lords have brought the labour low,And daily are contriving plans to prove our overthrow.CHORUS.So arouse you sons of Freedom the world seems upside down,They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and town.What a fuss there was in England, Ireland, and Scotland too,On the passing of the Corn Bill and the good that it would do,But since it’s past Meat got so high which makes poor people pine.If it would do good it’s time it did for factories are on short time.For when the bill was in the house they said it would do good,To the working man it has not yet, I only wish it would,For factories are on short time wherever you may go,And the masters all are scheming plans to get our wages low.There’s different parts in Ireland, it is true what I do state,There’s hundreds that are starving, for they can’t get food to eat,And if they go unto the rich to ask them for relief,They bang their doors in their faces as if they were a thief.Alas! how altered are the times, rich men despise the poor,And pay them off quite scornful at their door,And if a man is out of work his parish pay is small,Enough to starve himself and wife, his children and all.In former times when Christmas came we had a good big loaf,Then beef and mutton plenty were, and we enjoyed them both,But now a days such altered ways and different is the times,If starving and ask relief you’re sent to a Whig bastile.So to conclude and finish these few verses I have made,I hope to see before it’s long men for their labour paid,Then we’ll rejoice with heart and voice and banish all our woes,But before we do old England must pay us what she owes.
You working men of England one moment now attend,While I unfold the treatment of the poor upon this land,For now-a-days the Factory Lords have brought the labour low,And daily are contriving plans to prove our overthrow.
You working men of England one moment now attend,
While I unfold the treatment of the poor upon this land,
For now-a-days the Factory Lords have brought the labour low,
And daily are contriving plans to prove our overthrow.
CHORUS.
CHORUS.
So arouse you sons of Freedom the world seems upside down,They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and town.
So arouse you sons of Freedom the world seems upside down,
They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and town.
What a fuss there was in England, Ireland, and Scotland too,On the passing of the Corn Bill and the good that it would do,But since it’s past Meat got so high which makes poor people pine.If it would do good it’s time it did for factories are on short time.
What a fuss there was in England, Ireland, and Scotland too,
On the passing of the Corn Bill and the good that it would do,
But since it’s past Meat got so high which makes poor people pine.
If it would do good it’s time it did for factories are on short time.
For when the bill was in the house they said it would do good,To the working man it has not yet, I only wish it would,For factories are on short time wherever you may go,And the masters all are scheming plans to get our wages low.
For when the bill was in the house they said it would do good,
To the working man it has not yet, I only wish it would,
For factories are on short time wherever you may go,
And the masters all are scheming plans to get our wages low.
There’s different parts in Ireland, it is true what I do state,There’s hundreds that are starving, for they can’t get food to eat,And if they go unto the rich to ask them for relief,They bang their doors in their faces as if they were a thief.
There’s different parts in Ireland, it is true what I do state,
There’s hundreds that are starving, for they can’t get food to eat,
And if they go unto the rich to ask them for relief,
They bang their doors in their faces as if they were a thief.
Alas! how altered are the times, rich men despise the poor,And pay them off quite scornful at their door,And if a man is out of work his parish pay is small,Enough to starve himself and wife, his children and all.
Alas! how altered are the times, rich men despise the poor,
And pay them off quite scornful at their door,
And if a man is out of work his parish pay is small,
Enough to starve himself and wife, his children and all.
In former times when Christmas came we had a good big loaf,Then beef and mutton plenty were, and we enjoyed them both,But now a days such altered ways and different is the times,If starving and ask relief you’re sent to a Whig bastile.
In former times when Christmas came we had a good big loaf,
Then beef and mutton plenty were, and we enjoyed them both,
But now a days such altered ways and different is the times,
If starving and ask relief you’re sent to a Whig bastile.
So to conclude and finish these few verses I have made,I hope to see before it’s long men for their labour paid,Then we’ll rejoice with heart and voice and banish all our woes,But before we do old England must pay us what she owes.
So to conclude and finish these few verses I have made,
I hope to see before it’s long men for their labour paid,
Then we’ll rejoice with heart and voice and banish all our woes,
But before we do old England must pay us what she owes.
John Harkness, Printer, 121, Church Street, Preston.
“My good Child as it is necessary at this very important crisis; when, that good pious and very reasonable old gentleman Pope Pi-ass the nineth has promised to favour us with his presence, and the pleasures of Popery—and trampled on the rights and privilages which, we, as Englishmen, and Protestants, have engaged for these last three hundred years—Since Bluff, king Hal. began to take a dislike to the broad brimmed hat of the venerable Cardinal Wolsey, and proclaimed himself an heretic; It is necessary I say, for you, and all of you, to be perfect in your Lessons so as you may be able to verbly chastize this saucy prelate, his newly made Cardinal Foolishman, and the whole host of Puseites and protect our beloved Queen, our Church, and our Constitution.
“Q.Now my boy can you tell me what is your Name?
“A.B—— Protestant.
“Q.How came you by that name?
“A.At the time of Harry the stout, when Popery was in a galloping consumption the people protested against the surpremacy and instalence of the Pope; and his Colleges had struck deep at the hallow tree of superstition I gained the name of Protestant, and proud am I, and ever shall be to stick to it till the day of my death.
“Let us say.
“From all Cardinals whether wise or foolish. Oh! Queen Spare us.
“Spare us, Oh Queen.
“From the pleasure of the Rack, and the friendship of the kind hearted officers of the Inquisition. Oh! Johnny hear us.
“Oh! Russell hear us.
“From the comforts of being frisled like a devil’d kidney. Oh! Nosey save us.
“Hear us, Oh Arthur.
“From such saucy Prelates, as Pope Pi-ass. Oh! Cumming save us.
“Save us good Cumming.”
“And let us have no more Burnings in smithfield, no more warm drinks in the shape of boiled oil, or, molten lead, and send the whole host of Pusyites along with the Pope, Cardinals to the top of mount Vesuvius, there to dine off of hot lava, so that we may live in peace & shout long live our Queen, and No Popery!”
“The Lesson of the Day.”
“You seem an intelligent lad, so I think you are quite capable of Reading with me the Lessons for this day’s service.
“Now the Lesson for the day is taken from all parts of the Book of Martyr’s, beginning at just where you like.
“It was about the year 1835, that a certain renagade of the name of Pussy—I beg his pardon, I mean Pusey, like a snake who stung his master commenced crawling step by step, from the master; he was bound to serve to worship a puppet, arrayed in a spangle and tinsel of a romish showman.
“And the pestilance that he shed around spread rapidly through the minds of many unworthy members of our established Church; even up to the present year, 1850, inasmuch that St. Barnabus, of Pimlico, unable to see the truth by the aid of his occulars, mounted four pounds of long sixes in the mid-day, that he might see through the fog of his own folly, by which he was surrounded.
“And Pope Pi-ass the nineth taking advantage of the hubub, did create unto himself a Cardinal in the person of one Wiseman of Westminster.
“And Cardinal broadbrim claimed four counties in England as his dioces, and his master the Pope claimed as many more as his sees, but the people of England could not see that, so they declared aloud they would see them blowed first.
“So when Jack Russell heard of his most impudent intentions, he sent him a Letter saying it was the intention of the people of England never again to submit to their infamous mumerys for the burnings in Smithfield was still fresh in their memory.
“And behold great meetings were held in different parts of England where the Pope was burnt in effigy, like unto a Yarmouth Bloater, as a token of respect for him and his followers.
“And the citizens of London were stanch to a man, and assembled together in the Guildhall of our mighty City and shouted with stentarian lungs, long live the Queen and down with the Pope, the sound of which might have been heard even unto the vatican of Rome.
“And when his holyness the Pope heard that his power was set at naught, his nose became blue even as a bilberry with rage and declared Russell and Cummings or any who joined in the No Popery cry, should ever name the felisity of kissing his pious great toe.
“Thus Endeth the Lesson.”
Question.—Now my child, what is your Name?
Answer.—Weathercock Johnny, alias Jack the Reformer, of the tribe of Russellites.
Q.—Who gave you that Name?
A.—My Godfathers and Godmothers, the People of England, who are called the great unwashed.
Q.—And what do the People of England want you to do?
A.—First, they want to amend my ways, which they say are in a most shaky condition. Secondly, to take a few of Palmerston’s pills, which they say will invigorate my Political system. And, Thirdly, to stick up for the Rights of the People, and speak up according to my size, as long as I remain in office.
Q.—And do you think that you are capable of holding firm by the reins, and steer the good coach Constitution, in safety through the mud and mire of these macadamized times, and not as you have done before, getting your unlucky feet in a plug-hole.
A.—
Yes, I do, so help my tater,Try me, and I’ll prove a first-rater.
Yes, I do, so help my tater,Try me, and I’ll prove a first-rater.
Yes, I do, so help my tater,
Try me, and I’ll prove a first-rater.
There’s a good lad! now stir your young self, and let your conduct be a shade better than it has been, and you will earn our praise, and the nation will reward your services with a putty medal.
So be it.
Now let us sing for the amusement of this respectable congregation, and the benefit of own pockets, a few lines written to uncommon metre.
Now attend to good advice,—Little Johnny, O,And I’ll tell you what is right,—Little Johnny, O,Hold your head up like a man,Keep the whip in your right hand,And be honest, if you can,—Little Johnny, O.Curtail the ladies crinoline,—Little Johnny, O,And save us from broken shins,—Little Johnny, O,And as Gladstone gave us cheap tea,From heavy taxes set us free,And crush monopoly,—Little Johnny, O.Save us from starvation’s evil,—Little Johnny, O,And from meat that’s got the measles,—Little Johnny, O,Let the poor have wholesome food,And a loaf that’s cheap and good,Gain our praise I’m sure you would,—Little Johnny, O.Now Johnny dear, be brave,—Little Johnny, O,From the Fenians, pray us save,—Little Johnny, O,If at bogey’s game they play,They will better know some day,It will end in the cabbage garden way,—Little Johnny, O.In Yankee Land, I hear,—Little Johnny, O,They talk big with privateers,—Little Johnny, O,You had better send word out,If they get Johnny Bull’s shirt out,He will put them to the rout,—Little Johnny, O.Then put your shoulder to the wheel,—Little Johnny, O,Then it’s pressure you won’t feel,—Little Johnny, O,Flare up and be a brick,And none of your shuffling tricks,Or you had better cut your stick,—Little Johnny, O.
Now attend to good advice,—Little Johnny, O,And I’ll tell you what is right,—Little Johnny, O,Hold your head up like a man,Keep the whip in your right hand,And be honest, if you can,—Little Johnny, O.Curtail the ladies crinoline,—Little Johnny, O,And save us from broken shins,—Little Johnny, O,And as Gladstone gave us cheap tea,From heavy taxes set us free,And crush monopoly,—Little Johnny, O.Save us from starvation’s evil,—Little Johnny, O,And from meat that’s got the measles,—Little Johnny, O,Let the poor have wholesome food,And a loaf that’s cheap and good,Gain our praise I’m sure you would,—Little Johnny, O.Now Johnny dear, be brave,—Little Johnny, O,From the Fenians, pray us save,—Little Johnny, O,If at bogey’s game they play,They will better know some day,It will end in the cabbage garden way,—Little Johnny, O.In Yankee Land, I hear,—Little Johnny, O,They talk big with privateers,—Little Johnny, O,You had better send word out,If they get Johnny Bull’s shirt out,He will put them to the rout,—Little Johnny, O.Then put your shoulder to the wheel,—Little Johnny, O,Then it’s pressure you won’t feel,—Little Johnny, O,Flare up and be a brick,And none of your shuffling tricks,Or you had better cut your stick,—Little Johnny, O.
Now attend to good advice,—Little Johnny, O,And I’ll tell you what is right,—Little Johnny, O,Hold your head up like a man,Keep the whip in your right hand,And be honest, if you can,—Little Johnny, O.
Now attend to good advice,—Little Johnny, O,
And I’ll tell you what is right,—Little Johnny, O,
Hold your head up like a man,
Keep the whip in your right hand,
And be honest, if you can,—Little Johnny, O.
Curtail the ladies crinoline,—Little Johnny, O,And save us from broken shins,—Little Johnny, O,And as Gladstone gave us cheap tea,From heavy taxes set us free,And crush monopoly,—Little Johnny, O.
Curtail the ladies crinoline,—Little Johnny, O,
And save us from broken shins,—Little Johnny, O,
And as Gladstone gave us cheap tea,
From heavy taxes set us free,
And crush monopoly,—Little Johnny, O.
Save us from starvation’s evil,—Little Johnny, O,And from meat that’s got the measles,—Little Johnny, O,Let the poor have wholesome food,And a loaf that’s cheap and good,Gain our praise I’m sure you would,—Little Johnny, O.
Save us from starvation’s evil,—Little Johnny, O,
And from meat that’s got the measles,—Little Johnny, O,
Let the poor have wholesome food,
And a loaf that’s cheap and good,
Gain our praise I’m sure you would,—Little Johnny, O.
Now Johnny dear, be brave,—Little Johnny, O,From the Fenians, pray us save,—Little Johnny, O,If at bogey’s game they play,They will better know some day,It will end in the cabbage garden way,—Little Johnny, O.
Now Johnny dear, be brave,—Little Johnny, O,
From the Fenians, pray us save,—Little Johnny, O,
If at bogey’s game they play,
They will better know some day,
It will end in the cabbage garden way,—Little Johnny, O.
In Yankee Land, I hear,—Little Johnny, O,They talk big with privateers,—Little Johnny, O,You had better send word out,If they get Johnny Bull’s shirt out,He will put them to the rout,—Little Johnny, O.
In Yankee Land, I hear,—Little Johnny, O,
They talk big with privateers,—Little Johnny, O,
You had better send word out,
If they get Johnny Bull’s shirt out,
He will put them to the rout,—Little Johnny, O.
Then put your shoulder to the wheel,—Little Johnny, O,Then it’s pressure you won’t feel,—Little Johnny, O,Flare up and be a brick,And none of your shuffling tricks,Or you had better cut your stick,—Little Johnny, O.
Then put your shoulder to the wheel,—Little Johnny, O,
Then it’s pressure you won’t feel,—Little Johnny, O,
Flare up and be a brick,
And none of your shuffling tricks,
Or you had better cut your stick,—Little Johnny, O.
Let us say,
And now Johnny, thou most excellent of all state coachmen, to thy Fatherly care, we, an overtaxed, ill-paid, and half-starved people do consign ourselves, trusting that you will take our lamentable condition into thy kind consideration, and spare us from being poisoned with meat that has had the measles, and from being cheated by a set of greedy butchers; and save us from the Fenianites, we implore you; and grant us most merciful Johnny, that at the forthcoming Christmas, every mother’s son of us may be plentifully supplied with beef, pudding, and stout, so that we may boldly shout, slap bang, here we are again, and sing in thy praise now and for evermore. Amen.
Thus endeth the Lesson of the day.
Henry Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles.
Sam—Well Tum, how did tha get on oth’ Fast day.
Tom—Ta’ Fas day! bye gum awe think nowt oth’ fast day, for its a fast day every day wi’ us.
Sam—Nay mon, not every day, awe shud think yo’ve summat to eat sum time.
Tom—Aye, we have summat to eat, but it’s very lettle tha may depend on’t, thick porrich un’ sour milk for brekfast, un’ potatos and suit, un sum toime a red yarrin un brown bread for dinner, an we go to bed awebewt supper, un if that’s feasting aw dunna know what you cawn fasting.
Sam—Well but Tum, con yor tell me what this fast day wur kept for.
Tom—Aye by gum con aw, they sen it’s to drive famine away.
Sam—Famine, wot dost mean mon, why all this clemming eh England, Ireland, an’ Scotland.
Tom—Aw con there be a famine ith’ land, un th’ warehouses an th’ tommy shops aw breaking down wi’ stuff.
Sam—Aw think eth’ Lords un Bishops, un Parsons an such like folks had ony goodness in um, they’d gie poor folks a feast day, instead of a fast day.
Tom—Now do you think that these Parsons and Bishops kept th’ fast day.
Sam—Not they mon, they an fish, eggs, turtle soup, and such like, but if th’ poor could live as they done, they might fast for one day.
Tom—I’ll tell thee how aw did, aw sent owr Nell th’ day afore to borrow some brass, un hoo geet sixpence, an’ hoo went to Shade Hill, un hoo bought a sheep’s pluck, but it had no heart toot, un hoo geet a penoth o’th bacon, un hoo stew’d it aw together, un it wur rare un good, aw dunna think th’ queen had such a dinner, it’s the best flesh meat dinner I’ve had this six months.
Sam—Aw reckon yo stuff’d yore guts so full, you’d no more to eat that day.
Tom—Why we wur hungry ageen next morning, un had to fall to our thick porrich an’ sour milk, but if fasting will drive famine away, I should like it to drive poverty away so that poor folk could geet plenty of plum pudding and dumplins, an’ sich like, but stop, I’ve bowt a song about it, un you shall hear it:—
Ye working men both far and near,Unto my song pray lend an ear,While I the wonders do declare,About this famine fasting day,The Bishop of London that godly saint,Who preaches in the Parliament,He said it was their full intentFor to have a fast day,He told the Parliament he’d a call,For to come and tell them all,The Devil would fetch them great and small,Unless they kept a fast day.CHORUS.Singing higlety pickelty fast who will,I wish poor folk it’s had their fill,Good beef and pudding the famine to kill,Much better than a fast day.Some of them laugh’d, some fell asleep,And out of the house some did creep;To please the Bishops and black sheep,They did appoint a fast day,The twenty-fourth of March it was the dayThat some did fast and some did pray,Some made a feast as I’ve heard say,To drive this famine far away,I sent our Nell as I’m a sinner,To get some liver and bacon for dinner,We fasted so long we are quite thinner,We thought we’d have a feast day.To walk about that day in the street,Thousands of poor folk I did meet,Because they had got nothing to eat,And so they kept the fast day.Some who had money spent it free,While others had a jovial spree,Some pawned off their smocks they say,All for to get a dinner that day,Some went to the alehouse it is true,Got drunk and fought till all was blue;On Saturday night thousands will rueThe general famine fast day.The Bishops and the Parsons too,They seldom fast I tell to you,Their paunches they well stuff it’s true,Yet preach about a fast day,With fish and eggs, and Rhenish wine,On turtle soup each day they dine,Till their guts are poking out like swine,As though it was their last day,But if poor folks like them could live,Or if good wages they did receive,The storms of life they then could braveWithout this famine fast day.So to conclude my fast day song,Pray do not think I’ve kept you long,But whether it be right or wrongI’d rather have a feast day,But if a fast would drive this famine away,I’ve only got one thing to say,I wish it would drive povertyInto the middle of the sea,The Parsons and Bishops are afraid,Church and tithes cannot be paid,And except they learn some other tradeThey will have many a fast day.
Ye working men both far and near,Unto my song pray lend an ear,While I the wonders do declare,About this famine fasting day,The Bishop of London that godly saint,Who preaches in the Parliament,He said it was their full intentFor to have a fast day,He told the Parliament he’d a call,For to come and tell them all,The Devil would fetch them great and small,Unless they kept a fast day.CHORUS.Singing higlety pickelty fast who will,I wish poor folk it’s had their fill,Good beef and pudding the famine to kill,Much better than a fast day.Some of them laugh’d, some fell asleep,And out of the house some did creep;To please the Bishops and black sheep,They did appoint a fast day,The twenty-fourth of March it was the dayThat some did fast and some did pray,Some made a feast as I’ve heard say,To drive this famine far away,I sent our Nell as I’m a sinner,To get some liver and bacon for dinner,We fasted so long we are quite thinner,We thought we’d have a feast day.To walk about that day in the street,Thousands of poor folk I did meet,Because they had got nothing to eat,And so they kept the fast day.Some who had money spent it free,While others had a jovial spree,Some pawned off their smocks they say,All for to get a dinner that day,Some went to the alehouse it is true,Got drunk and fought till all was blue;On Saturday night thousands will rueThe general famine fast day.The Bishops and the Parsons too,They seldom fast I tell to you,Their paunches they well stuff it’s true,Yet preach about a fast day,With fish and eggs, and Rhenish wine,On turtle soup each day they dine,Till their guts are poking out like swine,As though it was their last day,But if poor folks like them could live,Or if good wages they did receive,The storms of life they then could braveWithout this famine fast day.So to conclude my fast day song,Pray do not think I’ve kept you long,But whether it be right or wrongI’d rather have a feast day,But if a fast would drive this famine away,I’ve only got one thing to say,I wish it would drive povertyInto the middle of the sea,The Parsons and Bishops are afraid,Church and tithes cannot be paid,And except they learn some other tradeThey will have many a fast day.
Ye working men both far and near,Unto my song pray lend an ear,While I the wonders do declare,About this famine fasting day,The Bishop of London that godly saint,Who preaches in the Parliament,He said it was their full intentFor to have a fast day,He told the Parliament he’d a call,For to come and tell them all,The Devil would fetch them great and small,Unless they kept a fast day.
Ye working men both far and near,
Unto my song pray lend an ear,
While I the wonders do declare,
About this famine fasting day,
The Bishop of London that godly saint,
Who preaches in the Parliament,
He said it was their full intent
For to have a fast day,
He told the Parliament he’d a call,
For to come and tell them all,
The Devil would fetch them great and small,
Unless they kept a fast day.
CHORUS.
CHORUS.
Singing higlety pickelty fast who will,I wish poor folk it’s had their fill,Good beef and pudding the famine to kill,Much better than a fast day.
Singing higlety pickelty fast who will,
I wish poor folk it’s had their fill,
Good beef and pudding the famine to kill,
Much better than a fast day.
Some of them laugh’d, some fell asleep,And out of the house some did creep;To please the Bishops and black sheep,They did appoint a fast day,The twenty-fourth of March it was the dayThat some did fast and some did pray,Some made a feast as I’ve heard say,To drive this famine far away,I sent our Nell as I’m a sinner,To get some liver and bacon for dinner,We fasted so long we are quite thinner,We thought we’d have a feast day.
Some of them laugh’d, some fell asleep,
And out of the house some did creep;
To please the Bishops and black sheep,
They did appoint a fast day,
The twenty-fourth of March it was the day
That some did fast and some did pray,
Some made a feast as I’ve heard say,
To drive this famine far away,
I sent our Nell as I’m a sinner,
To get some liver and bacon for dinner,
We fasted so long we are quite thinner,
We thought we’d have a feast day.
To walk about that day in the street,Thousands of poor folk I did meet,Because they had got nothing to eat,And so they kept the fast day.Some who had money spent it free,While others had a jovial spree,Some pawned off their smocks they say,All for to get a dinner that day,Some went to the alehouse it is true,Got drunk and fought till all was blue;On Saturday night thousands will rueThe general famine fast day.
To walk about that day in the street,
Thousands of poor folk I did meet,
Because they had got nothing to eat,
And so they kept the fast day.
Some who had money spent it free,
While others had a jovial spree,
Some pawned off their smocks they say,
All for to get a dinner that day,
Some went to the alehouse it is true,
Got drunk and fought till all was blue;
On Saturday night thousands will rue
The general famine fast day.
The Bishops and the Parsons too,They seldom fast I tell to you,Their paunches they well stuff it’s true,Yet preach about a fast day,With fish and eggs, and Rhenish wine,On turtle soup each day they dine,Till their guts are poking out like swine,As though it was their last day,But if poor folks like them could live,Or if good wages they did receive,The storms of life they then could braveWithout this famine fast day.
The Bishops and the Parsons too,
They seldom fast I tell to you,
Their paunches they well stuff it’s true,
Yet preach about a fast day,
With fish and eggs, and Rhenish wine,
On turtle soup each day they dine,
Till their guts are poking out like swine,
As though it was their last day,
But if poor folks like them could live,
Or if good wages they did receive,
The storms of life they then could brave
Without this famine fast day.
So to conclude my fast day song,Pray do not think I’ve kept you long,But whether it be right or wrongI’d rather have a feast day,But if a fast would drive this famine away,I’ve only got one thing to say,I wish it would drive povertyInto the middle of the sea,The Parsons and Bishops are afraid,Church and tithes cannot be paid,And except they learn some other tradeThey will have many a fast day.
So to conclude my fast day song,
Pray do not think I’ve kept you long,
But whether it be right or wrong
I’d rather have a feast day,
But if a fast would drive this famine away,
I’ve only got one thing to say,
I wish it would drive poverty
Into the middle of the sea,
The Parsons and Bishops are afraid,
Church and tithes cannot be paid,
And except they learn some other trade
They will have many a fast day.
John Harkness, Printer, 121, Church Street, Preston.
To be said by all true Liberals, at all outdoor or indoor Meetings, at all Committee Rooms, and in front of all Hustings on which the Gladstonites and the Dizzeyites are to contend for the Managership at the forthcoming Elections, and to see who is to gain the belt, and rule the roast at St. Stephen’s. To be said without Barrel Organ or Grindstone accompaniment.
Now, my boy, as the Great Election is about to take place, and it 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.
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.
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.
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.
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 aLow(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.
Written byJohn 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.