said to have been composed by Queen Hortense, mother of Napoleon III. Under the Empire l'artant pour la Syrie was the officially recognised French national song, but it never became so popular as La Marseillaise. Punch. This point of honour, weight of swine, And ox as highly scored, Club, He proved it at the Smithfield "Now bain't this here the hugest ox? They owned his victory-due the palm- So round his neck the prize was tied, Which makes a farmer's heaven on earth, Drank "Honour to the hugest ox, December 17, 1859. To drive the deere with hound and horne, The stout Erle of Northumberland Who sent Erle Percy present word, With fifteen hundred bow-men bold; Who knew full well in time of neede The newes was brought to Eddenborrow, O heavy newes, King James did saye, I have not any captaine more Like tydings to King Henry came, That Percy of Northumberland Now God be with him, said our king, I trust I have, within my realme, Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say, I'll be revenged on them all, This vow full well the king perform'd In one day, fifty knights were slaine; And of the rest, of small account, Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chace, Made by the Erle Percy. God save our king, and bless this land With plentye, joy, and peace; And grant henceforth, that foule debate 'Twixt noblemen may cease. CHEVY CHACE.* GOD prosper long our noble King, Our lives and safeties all: A woeful story late there did In Britain's Isle befall. DUKE SMITHSON, of NORTHUMBERLAND,† The choicest gifts in fair England, "Stand fast, my merry men all," he cried, "By MOIRA's Earl and me, And we will gain place, wealth, and pow'r, Excise and Customs, Church and Law, I'll have, or I'll oppose." "Now God be with him," quoth the KING, "Sith 'twill no better be; I trust we have within our realm, The DUKE then join'd with Charley Fox And ERSKINE, SHERIDAN, and GRAY Throughout our English Parliament And soon a law like arrow keen, Or spear, or curtal-axe. Struck poor DUKE SMITHSON to the heart, In shape of Powder-tax. + Sore leaning on his crutch, he cried, This clever parody has reference to the attempt made by the Duke of Northumberland to evade the payment of Mr. Pitt's Income-tax. To mitigate the severity of the pressure on persons with large families, a deduction of ten per cent. was allowed to persons who had above a certain number of children. Amongst others the wealthy Duke of Northumber. land was not ashamed to avail himself of this clause. + Sir Hugh Smithson married the Lady Elizabeth, daughter and only child of the Duke of Northumberland, who died in 1750. In the same year he obtained an Act of Parliament, authorizing him to assume the surname and arms of Percy. In 1767 the King created him Earl Percy and Duke of Northumberland. The hero of this ballad was the eldest son of this marriage. This alludes to Mr. Pitt's Tax upon Hair-powder, which turned out a failure; the public declining its use rather than pay the tax. Those who continued it were called “guineafigs," the tax being a guinea per head. No guinea for your heads I'll pay, Though Church and State should fall." A schedule of a cloth-yard long, "Yield thee, DUKE SMITHSON, and behold The assessment thou must pay; Dogs, horses, houses. coaches, clocks, And servants in array." "Nay," quoth the DUKE, "in thy black scroll, Deductions I espye, For those who, poor. and mean, and low, With children burthen'd lie. And though full sixty thousand pounds From Cornwall to Northumberland, Yet England's Church, its King, its laws, Compar'd with this, my constant text- No drop of Princely PERCY'S blood Let England's youth unite in arms, With honest zeal subscribe their mite I at St. Martin's Vestry Board, That I have children eight, and claim God bless us all from factious foes, From The Anti-Jacobin, March, 1798. Another parody of Chevy-Chace, entitled Two orators, whose venom tongues The one a squire, of manners blunt, The other of a lordly breed, Forth went these wights one Sabbath morn; Ill luck such acts betide! THE NEW CHEVY CHACE. (On the occasion of the O. P. Riots.) GOD prosper long our noble King, In Covent Garden, while I sing, To chase the CAT with howl and horn THE KEMBLES, HARRIS, SON and Co. This famous CAT to squall in ; With "Annual Boxes" for the trade JOHN's native drama to undo, With foreign airs and vices And so they e'en impos'd their New Their bowmen bold from Bow Street brought, Resolv'd to stuff down Johnny's throat, But JOHN whose skull with brains is cramn'd, "And if I have, may I be damn'd, "What! think you me to tax and gull, "Your modesty, upon my soul, "That fain would cram each pigeon-hole With seven-shilling pieces! "No, no-it will not do, Black JACK "It shall not do, by Jingo; "Old plays and prices we'll have back, And no outlandish lingo!" The orchestra struck up in vain, For "banners on the outward wall"' Their scrolls within so thick did fall, On Monday first the row begun, The actors ran through every scene, As fast as they could goAs it a pantomime had been Or eke, a puppet show. And though the people that were there Most loud did roar and rage, Their backs they all, with special care, O Jove! it was a grief to see, To catgut, cat-call did reply, Yet bides JACK KEMBLE on the bent, With aitches though his head was rent, "Show me," said he, "what 'tis you want? "We neither want your CAT or cant," Our Englishmen replied. "Our notes, for her's you shan't command; "We trust we have within the land With that there came a glorious roar, As such there never did before Then look'd our manager, I trow, As thus he said-" At length I yield, "You've got what you have wish'd; "You've won, JOHN BULL, you've won the field, God save the King, and bless the land, And thus may Britons ever stand, From The Morning Chronicle. September 30, 1809. This parody refers to the most extraordinary series of disturbances, known as the O.P. Riots, which took place in the new Covent Garden Theatre, commencing on the opening night, September 18, 1809, and lasting, almost without intermission, till December 16, when the old charges were restored. John Philip Kemble, the tragedian, and manager of the theatre, was singled out for special disapproval, the outcries against the Cat (Madame Catalani) were also very bitter, as it was generally supposed the prices had been raised owing to her exorbitant salary. Madame Catalani's business agent used to ask five hundred guineas for her appearance at a concert, which was considered an enormous sum in those days. Kemble (styled Black Jack, on account of his dark complexion and black hair), had a pedantic way of pronouncing ache as aitche. A PROTECTIONIST PARODY. GOD prosper long our noble Queen, Our lands and purses all; A woeful ruin once there did In Parliament befall. The sly Sir Robert Turnabout,* And make the farmers quake. The Landowners to terrify, The Corn-laws to repeal. These tidings to Lord Bentinck came, He sent Sir Robert present word, For full three hundred backed him up, Who knew full well in time of need To give their votes a-wrong. The "Turncoats" mustered in the "House," Their faces all that day were made And long before midnight they had Sir Robert went - his speech complete- Now, if I thought he would not come, With that, says Bright, "Friend Turnabout, Lo! yonder doth Lord Bentinck stand, All sturdy agriculturists, True to their pledges still." "Then leave your dinners," Bobby said, And now with me, my Turnabouts, For never was there statesman yet, Lord Bentinck, on his hobby-horse, Stood foremost of his company, And straightway thus began: "Show me," said he, "What right have ye, The farmer's gains to steal, Sir Robert Peel. To rob the agriculturists, The Corn-laws to Repeal?" The man who longest answer made, Who said, "We have the right of power Forth stept a manufacturer (Dick Cobden was his name) Who said, "I would not have it told Unto The League' for shame, That e'er this bill was fairly passed, And I took not that time t'abuse I'll jaw as long as jaw I may, The fight did last twelve live long nights, (The matter was so deep ;) And when they cleared the gallery, Two hundred men and seventy Then tidings to Lord Stanley came, "Now heaven be with us," Stanley said, "And Robert, what is he? I trust we have within this Isle, Leaders more trustworthy. Yet shall not Bob nor turn-coats say, But we will vengeance take: We'll be revenged upon them all, For our good farmers' sake. This vow full well the chief performed, For Turnabout was then kicked out, Honour to you, Protectionists, For if they kept their places, you Have kept your pledges all! To lead the House, with care and pain, The churl may shame that is unborn The suave Sir Stafford1 to oppose His devoir did with grace; A gentler pair of gallant foes Stood never face to face. But forth there stepped a cheeky Squire, Randolpho was his name, Who cried, "You don't call this a fight? Your style is much too tame! "You shall not fool about like this, You be too muffs," Randolpho said, "I'll do the best that do I may, All this punctilio is rot; I'll fight for my own hand!" Then straight arose a vulgar row, Coarse words like poisoned arrows went, To still the storm, with broken voice, But howls rose fast on every side, His struggling accents drowned. O Saints! it was great grief to see This fight did last till Gladstone grey Shamed some of such coarse fun. Hoarse was that voice, erst like a bell, That long-tried strength foredone. 3 Lo! conscience pricks the brave Sir Hicks, " A Knight of courtesie; On that black bench churl hearts might blench, For Randolpho needs must I wail Aping the rough who kicks his foe, Smart Squire, who well might be brave Knight, Hounding rude clowns on, in despite Of gallant Chivalry. Let Irish churls of small account Thus play the unknightly lout ; Let inarticulate Tory sumphs Thus rudely yell and shout; 1 Sir Stafford Northcote. 2 Lord Randolph Churchill. Sir Michael Hicks Beach. But one of brain and gentle blood God save the Queen, and bless the land And grant henceforth that foul debate Punch. May 30. 1885. :0: LORD BATEMAN. One of the best known of our old Ballads is Lord Beichan, or Buchan. This is corrupted in the modern English form to Lord Bateman; the ballad commences thus: "Lord Bateman was a noble lord, A noble lord of high degree; He shipped himself on board a ship, He longed strange countries for to see." Cruikshank collectors will remember that the artist chose this ballad for illustrating, and small as is the book, a copy of the original 1839 edition sold for £5 15s. at Sotherby's last year. Of course Cruikshank's version is comic, and the history of it is that he sang the ballad at a dinner of the Antiquarian society, to the air, and with the cockney pronunciation he had heard given to it by a street ballad singer. Dickens was present at the dinner, and offered to supply the illustrative notes (which are exceedingly humorous), Cruikshank etched the plates, and almost innumerable editions of the little book have been published; the most recent having been issued a few years since by Messrs. Bell and Daldy, London. THE NEW BALLAD OF LORD BATEMAN. LORD BATEMAN wos a noble Lord, He maundered here, he meandered there, For forty long years he had held the opinion, We'd abandon'd our old lady-love, Protection, We had boasted of her beauties unto foreign countries, He would not go back to the old love wholly, Wot wos right in love must be right in Commerce. He failed to see wy it wos only in trading Then up and answered another noble Lord,- manner, Wich filled the beholders with mirth and glee. |