CHARLES KINGSLEY.
The Auction.
Three women went sailing out into the street
To the brown stone front where the red flag hung
They jostled the crowd all day on their feet,
While “going and going and gone” was sung.
For women must go where bargains are had,
And buy old trash, if ever so bad,
And husbands must never be groaning.
Three husbands all hungry went homeward to dine,
But when they arrived there was nothing to eat,
Three women, all crazy, and looking so fine,
Were gabbling of bargains along on the street,
For women must talk of bargains they buy,
And homes must suffer, and babies must cry,
And husbands must ever be groaning.
Three women were showing their husbands with glee
Their bargains at prices that never were beat:
Three husbands all starving and mad as could be,
Were tossing the bargains out into the street.
For men don’t know when bargains are cheap,
And women, poor creatures, do nothing but weep,
And husbands must ever be groaning.
Three Little Fishers.
Three little fishers trudged over the hill,
Over the hill in the sun’s broad glare,
With rods and crook’d pins, to the brook by the mill,
While three fond mothers sought them everywhere.
For boys will go fishing, though mothers deny;
Watching their chance they sneak off on the sly
To come safely back in the gloaming.
Three mothers waited outside of the gate;
Three little fishers, tired, sunburnt and worn,
Came into sight as the evening grew late:
Their chubby feet bleeding, their clothing all torn,
For “boys will be boys”—have a keen eye for fun,
While mothers fret, fume, scold, and—succumb,
And welcome them home in the gloaming.
Three little fishers were called to explain—
Each stood condemned, with a thumb in his eye,
They promised never to do so again,
And were hung up in the pantry to dry.
Three mothers heaved great sighs of relief,
An end had been put to their magnified grief,
When the boys came home in the gloaming.
Frank H. Stauffer.
Detroit Free Press, July 10, 1886.
Three Cows.
Three cows were seized for the tithe rent in the West,
For the parson’s tithe in old Ruthin’s town,
And the Taffies flocked, with a lively zest,
To the farm to see the crummies knocked down
For parsons want tithes, and farmers must pay,
Though crops may fail, and quarter-day,
And bankruptcy they be reaching.
Three bailiffs ran after the cows in the park,
After the cows amid laughter and groan,
Policeman and people enjoying the lark;
And the cattle weren’t caught when the bailies were blown.
But parsons want tithes, and farmers must pay,
Or their kine will be sold and be harried away,
To provide for the Church and the preaching.
Three constables guarded the auctioneer,
And three milch beauties fetched twenty pounds;
The tithe was paid with expenses clear,
And the knight of the hammer was hissed off the ground
For parsons want money, and tithes must be paid;
But the sooner they’re done with the better ’tis said,
Or good-bye to the Church and its teaching.
Three Fishers.
Three fishers went fishing out into the sea
With bottles well filled with the regular bait:
They burned in the sun and told stories with glee
And caught one sea-robin, a crab and a skate;
But, as they were told, on the previous day,
More fishes were caught than were carried away,
And then were these fishers a-groaning.
Three fishers all blistered crawled homeward intent
With cussing their luck and without any bait,
And also without the small fortune they’d spent
For one old sea-robin, a crab and a skate,
But then—if the wind or the tide had been right,
Or different bait, or fishes would bite,
These fishers would not be a-groaning.
Three fishers went telling some terrible lies
Of how they returned with a ton or so weight;
The fish, they kept growing in numbers and size
As fast as the fishers could swallow more “bait.”
For spinning of yarns is the only delight
Of fishers who fish without getting a bite
And who, when alone, are a-groaning.
H. C. Dodge.
Detroit Free Press, August 21, 1886.
——:o:——
HORTICULTURAL EMBLEMS.
A Parody of Rogero’s Song in The Anti-Jacobin.
Snobs of Cambridge, you must all
Have a piece of garden ground,
Well enclosed with a wall,
Or with a fence well guarded round.
Get of plants that none e’er saw
A beautiful variety;
Then be a member of the Hor-
-Ticultural Society!
Work and toil both night and day,
Rearing flowers choice and rare;
And then—if you like you may
With them to the show repair.
But since a Snob, expect a flaw,
In spite of your anxiety;
’Tis never heeded by the Hor-
-Ticultural Society.
Humble plants in order stand,
And sensitives in order too:
Shrinking from the Floral wand
Of Mister Touch-me-not and Co.
Such humble plants you never saw,
Waiting for their moiety
Awarded to them by the Hor-
-Ticultural Society.
Cocks-combs leave their native seat,
Cocks-combs dwarf and cocks-combs tall,
Other cocks-combs here to meet,
And whisper, “Snobs, we’ve done you all.”
Oh! what are those great baskets for—
Those looks of such anxiety?
Why! for the Sweepstakes of the Hor-
-Ticultural Society!
Grow a Pine that’s worth a guinea,
And they’ll award you just a crown;
Quere?—who is such a ninney?
Some there are—their names are down;
But the pine’s his own!—O, no, ’tis for
One Mister Sec-Satiety:
Wot drives the members of the Hor-
-Ticultural Society!!
The Gownsman (Cambridge), November 26, 1830.
End of Volume III.
Footnotes:
[1] Henry Stephens appears first to have started this subject of parody; whose researches have been borrowed by the Abbé Sallier, as I am in my turn occasionally indebted to Sallier. His little dissertation is in the French Academy’s Memoirs, tome vii, 398.
[2] See a specimen in Aulus Gellius, where this parodist reproaches Plato for having given a high price for a book, whence he drew his noble dialogue of the Timæus. Lib. iii. c. 17.
[3] See Spanheim, Les Césars de l’Empéreur Julien in his “Preuves,” Remarque 8. Sallier judiciously observes, “Il peut nous donner une juste idee de cette sorte d’ouvrage, mais nous ne savons pas précisément en quel tems il a été composé;” no more, truly, than the Iliad itself!
[4] Les Parodies du Nouveau Théätre Italien, 4 vol. 1738. Observations sur la Comédie et sur le Génie de Molière, par Louis Riccoboni. Liv. iv.
[5] I am indebted to James Gordon, Esq., F.S.A., (Scotland) for the reference to this poem, and for many other useful memoranda.
[6] Nursery abbreviation of lollipops.
[7] James Usher, Primate of Ireland.
[8] William Bedell, Bishop of Kilmore.
[9] Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of Dromore.
[10] George Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne.
[11] This stanza is often omitted.
[12] These were the distinguishing marks of a Pilgrim.
[13] The year of noviciate.
[14] Editors of two newspapers of the Opposition.
[15] The once beautiful and famous Vauxhall Gardens, in the south of London. The last performance in the Gardens took place on 25th July, 1859, and the ground has since been almost entirely built over.
[16] In 1846, Sir Robert Peel carried the Repeal of the Corn Laws, in the face of much conservative and protectionist opposition.
[17] A noted vendor of wax moulds, short sixes, farthing rushlight and all other wick-ed wares.
[18] Alderman Moon.
[19] Celebration of the coming of age of the late Earl Brownlow.
[20] Campbell has, in his Gertrude of Wyoming, “All gladness to the heart, nerve, ear and sight.”
[21] At a time of great agricultural distress the Duke of Norfolk had suggested that the poor people should provide themselves with a curry powder of his own device, as a palliative for hunger. He had perhaps forgotten that when Marie Antoinette was told that the poor in Paris were starving for the lack of bread, she replied “Poor things, why don’t they buy some cake.”)
[22] “Ireland for ever.”
[23] For the engagement of Jenny Lind, that young lady having deserted to Mr. Lumley, the rival manager, at Her Majesty’s Theatre.
[24] Sir Andrew Agnew, M.P., an opponent of the admission of Jews to Parliament.
[25] In the letter which accompanied this song, Professor Blackie stated that “Sam Sumph,” was a great favorite with the Edinburgh Students, but that it had not previously been published. Another great favorite with the Students is the eminent Professor himself, whose handsome presence, and genial character are so well known in Auld Reekie. There is an anecdote related of him, that having to transact some private business one day, he left a label on his door:
“Professor Blackie regrets that he cannot meet his classes to-day.”
A Student coming up effaced the c, and left the message—
“Professor Blackie regrets that he cannot meet his lasses to-day.”
But the Professor, returning sooner than he expected, removed another letter, and the intimation on his door for the rest of the day stood thus:—
“Professor Blackie regrets that he cannot meet his asses to-day.”
Se non e vero, e ben trovato.
[26] Sir Stafford Northcote.
[27] Lixmaleerie a corruption of L’Eglise de Marie.
[28] Alluding to the then great distance between the picture frame, in which the green curtain was set, and the band.
[29] The old name for London.
[30] Old Bedlam, at that time, stood “close by London Wall.” It was built after the model of the Tuileries, which is said to have given the French king great offence. In front of it Moorfields extended, with broad gravel walks crossing each other at right angles. These the writer well recollects; and Rivaz, an underwriter at Lloyd’s, has told him that he remembered when the merchants of London would parade these walks on a summer evening with their wives and daughters. But now as a punning brother bard sings, “Moorfields are fields no more.”
“‘Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on’
Were the last words of Marmion.”
[32] Parliament—A sweet biscuit now seldom met with.
[33] Whitbread’s shears. An economical experiment of that gentleman. The present portico, towards Brydges Street, was afterwards erected under the lesseeship of Elliston, whose portrait in the Exhibition was thus noticed in the Examiner: “Portrait of the great lessee, in his favourite character of Mr. Elliston.”
[34] A Scotchman, who was on his dying bed was asked by the clergyman of his parish “And where do you think you are going to now?” replied “Hech, meenister, ye ken this is neether the time nor place to be asking conundrums.” So, too, it may be said, this is neither the time, nor the place to discuss questions of political economy. Yet—in answer to the writer of these bigoted lines—it may be pointed out that the great, the chief reason for Scotchmen leaving their own country, is to be found in the iniquitous land laws, which doom so many of the finest parts of Scotland to be depopulated for the formation of dear runs, and game preserves.
And a Scotchman may point with pardonable pride to the fact, that wherever Scotchmen go they are welcomed as honest, thrifty, and law abiding citizens. Whilst by their industry, their intelligence, and integrity, they win the success which is denied them in their own country, through the survival of an obsolete feudal system, not at all in keeping with the spirit of the age.
[35] The writer will not guarantee the absolute correctness of all these names of localities, but he has carefully consulted the best authorities on the subject.
[36] The late Dr. E. V. Kenealy, M.P., for Stoke-upon-Trent, and counsel for the Claimant in the famous Tichborne case.
[37] So says the Englishman. It is true the Gaikwar’s agents in this country deny the assertion point-blank, but that is nothing in the Doctor’s way.
[38] The Rt. Hon. Stephen Cave, M.P. for New Shoreham.
Epigram
(On placing the Bankrupt Duke of York’s statue on a high column).
To put the Duke upon so high a column,
Appears to me a mockery rather solemn.
Such lofty place for him cannot be meet;
Surely the project they should straight abandon
Of placing him, who’d scarce a leg to stand on
Upon a thing of near one hundred feet.
Figaro in London, Dec., 1834.
Epigram
(On the Column to the Duke of York’s memory.
In former times th’ illustrious dead were burned,
Their hearts preserved in sepulchre inurned.
This column, then, commemorates the part
Which custom makes us single out—the heart;
You ask “How by a column this is done,”
I answer, “’Tis a hollow thing of stone.”
Figaro in London, March, 1833.
[40] Here is to be observed the astonishing similarity of manners and customs, between the Irish and Scotch, in former days. How close is
“Whack for O’Shaughnashane! Tooleywhagg, ho!
to “Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu! ho ieroe!”—See The Lady of the Lake.
In the present instance, ’tis a Song at a Banquet; in the latter, ’tis a Song in a Boat. ’Tis merely the difference betwixt wine and water. The vassals on both occasions express their attachment to their Chief, and their ardour for his Crest; one being an Evergreen Pine, the other a Potato.
[41] Jokeby was said to have been written by an Amateur of Fashion.
[42] The indefatigable researches of my friend, Mr. Francis Douce, have at last enabled him to procure me one of these celebrated banners. It is quartered according to the most received military practices, and in the midst appears a portrait, which I at first mistook for the effigy of a goose and trimmings; but now find to compose the head and wig of my friend Robert Warren. On either side are blazoned two blacking brushes rampant, armed and langued gules, with a pair of top boots argent. The whole forms a striking heraldic curiosity, and is now deposited in the British Museum.
[43] Major Yelverton.
[44] The deeds of Admiral Sir Charles Napier, as commander of the Baltic Fleet in the Russian War, bore a very insignificant relation to his boasts before he assumed the command.
[45] Sir Edmund Henderson, formerly Chief of the Metropolitan Police.
[46] Much comment was made upon the fact that the Duchess of Kent and her daughter, the Princess Victoria (heiress to the throne), were not present at the coronation of William IV.
[47] [The Marquis of Salisbury, Sir Stafford Northcote, and Mr. James Lowther.]
[48] Sunderland Times, 7th Jan., 1876, &c.
[49] Report of the Medical Officer of the Privy Council on the Smallpox Epidemic of 1871-2.
[50] [The Happy Land by F. Tomline and Gilbert A’Beckett was a burlesque of The Wicked World. It was produced at the Court Theatre on March 3, 1873, and prohibited by the Lord Chamberlain on March 7, principally because three of the actors were made up to represent Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Ayrton, and Mr. Robert Lowe. It was afterwards reproduced with sundry alterations and omissions.]
[51] Old Pensioners of Sutton’s hospital—so called by the boys.
[52] For the Glendoveer, and the rest of the dramatis personæ of this imitation, the reader is referred to the “Curse of Kehama.”
Midnight, and yet no eye
Through all the Imperial City closed in sleep!
Behold her streets a blaze
With light that seems to kindle the red sky,
Her myriads swarming through the crowded ways!
Master and slave, old age and infancy,
All, all abroad to gaze;
House-top and balcony
Clustered with women, who throw back their veils,
With unimpeded and insatiate sight
To view the funeral pomp which passes by,
As if the mournful rite
Were but to them a scene of joyance and delight.
From Southey’s The Curse of Kehama.
[54] This couplet was introduced by the authors by way of bravado, in answer to some one who alleged that the English language contained no rhyme to chimney.
[55] Apollo. A gigantic wooden figure of this deity was erected on the roof. The writer (horrescit referens!) is old enough to recollect the time when it was first placed there. Old Bishop, then one of the masters of Merchant Taylors’ School, wrote an epigram upon the occasion, which, referring to the aforesaid figure, concluded thus:
“Above he fills up Shakespeare’s place,
And Shakespeare fills up his below.”
Very antithetical; but quære as to the meaning? The writer, like Pluto, “long puzzled his brain” to find it out, till he was immersed “in a lower deep” by hearing Madame de Staël say, at the table of the late Lord Dillon, “Buonaparte is not a man, but a system.” Inquiry was made in the course of the evening of Sir James Mackintosh as to what the lady meant? He answered, “Mass, I cannot tell.” Madame de Staël repeats this apophthegm in her work on Germany. It is probably understood there.
[56] O.P. This personage, who is alleged to have growled like a bull-dog, requires rather a lengthened note for the edification of the rising generation. The “horns, rattles, drums,” with which he is accompanied, are no inventions of the poet. The new Covent Garden Theatre opened on the 18th September, 1809, when a cry of “Old Prices” (afterwards diminished to O.P.) burst out from every part of the house. This continued and increased in violence till the 23rd, when rattles, drums, whistles, and cat-calls, having completely drowned the voices of the actors, Mr. Kemble, the stage manager, came forward and said that a committee of gentlemen had undertaken to examine the finances of the concern, and that until they were prepared with their report the theatre would continue closed. “Name them!” was shouted from all sides. The names were declared, viz., Sir Charles Price, the Solicitor-General, the Recorder of London, the Governor of the Bank, and Mr. Angerstein. “All shareholders!” bawled a wag from the gallery. In a few days the theatre re-opened: the public paid no attention to the report of the referees, and the tumult was renewed for several weeks, with even increased violence. The proprietors now sent in hired bruisers, to mill the refractory into subjection. This irritated most of their former friends, and, amongst the rest, the annotator, who accordingly wrote the song of “Heigh-ho, says Kemble,” which was caught up by the ballad-singers, and sung under Mr. Kemble’s house windows in Great Russell Street. A dinner was given at the Crown and Anchor Tavern in the Strand, to celebrate the victory obtained by W. Clifford in his action against Brandon, the box-keeper, for assaulting him for wearing the letters O.P. in his hat. At this dinner, Mr. Kemble attended, and matters were compromised by allowing the advanced price (seven shillings) to the boxes. The writer remembers a former riot of a similar sort at the same theatre (in the year 1792), when the price to the boxes was raised from five shillings to six. That tumult, however, only lasted three nights.
[57] “From the knobb’d bludgeon to the taper switch.” This image is not the creation of the poets: it sprang from reality. The authors happened to be at the Royal Circus when “God save the King” was called for, accompanied by a cry of “stand up!” and “hats off!” An inebriated naval lieutenant, perceiving a gentleman in an adjoining box slow to obey the call, struck his hat off with his stick, exclaiming, “Take off your hat, sir!” The other thus assaulted proved to be, unluckily for the lieutenant, Lord Camelford, the celebrated bruiser and duellist. A set-to in the lobby was the consequence, where his lordship quickly proved victorious. “The devil is not so black as he is painted,” said one of the authors to the other; “let us call upon Lord Camelford, and tell him that we were witnesses of his being first assaulted.” The visit was paid on the ensuing morning at Lord Camelford’s lodgings, in Bond Street. Over the fire-place in the drawing-room were ornaments strongly expressive of the pugnacity of the peer. A long thick bludgeon lay horizontally supported by two brass hooks. Above this was placed parallel one of lesser dimensions, until a pyramid of weapons gradually arose, tapering to a horsewhip.
“Thus all below was strength, and all above was grace.”
Lord Camelford received his visitants with great civility, and thanked them warmly for the call; adding, that their evidence would be material, it being his intention to indict the lieutenant for an assault. “All I can say in return is this,” exclaimed the peer with great cordiality, “if ever I see you engaged in a row, upon my soul I’ll stand by you.” The authors expressed themselves thankful for so potent an ally, and departed. In about a fortnight afterwards (March 7, 1804), Lord Camelford was shot in a duel with Mr. Best.
[58] Veeshno. The late Mr. Samuel Whitbread, M.P., who committed suicide in 1815 during a fit of insanity supposed to have been occasioned by overwork, and anxiety in connection with the involved financial affairs of Drury Lane Theatre.
[59] Levy. An insolvent Israelite who threw himself from the top of the Monument a short time before. An inhabitant of Monument-yard informed the writer, that he happened to be standing at his door talking to a neighbour; and looking up at the top of the pillar, exclaimed, “Why, here’s the flag coming down.” “Flag!” answered the other, “it’s a man.” The words were hardly uttered when the suicide fell within ten feet of the speakers.
[60] Rembling—shifting;
[61] Raving—tearing up;
[62] Tewing—troubling oneself;
[63] Taving—fidgeting;
[64] Clatting—dirtying;
[65] Scratting—scratching.
[66] Ruddle—red chalk for tiled floor.
[67] An affectionate term applied to Mr. Montagu Corry, (now Lord Rowton,) Secretary to Lord Beaconsfield.
[68] The “Friend of Humanity” was intended for a satire on Mr. Tierney, M.P., for Southwark, who in early times was amongst the most zealous of the Reformers. He was an active member of the Society of Friends of the People, and drew up the justly celebrated Petition in which that useful body laid before the House of Commons all the more striking particulars of its defective title to be a body truly representing the people, which that house then, as now, but with far less reason, assumed.
[69] Evidently Giles now reads his newspaper.
[70] This stanza was supplied by S. T. Coleridge.
[71] George Canning, of the Anti-Jacobin.
[72] Mrs. Fitzherbert and Mary Robinson, the one the wife, the other the mistress of George, Prince Regent.
[73] State Lotteries were then permitted, but were abolished in 1826.
[74] Alluding to a coarse skit published by Sir John Stoddart, in The New Times.
[75] The Bishop of Osnaburgh’s Doxy. The Duke of York was Bishop of Osnaburgh, but the Doxy here mentioned alludes neither to Orthodoxy nor to Heterodoxy, but simply to Mrs. Mary Anne Clarke, the wife of a stonemason. She became the mistress of this reverend Bishop, who was also Commander of the Forces, and to whose memory a column was erected—Heaven only knows why—at the junction of Waterloo-place and St. James’s-park. The Duke got into debt, and Mrs. Clarke had to find money by the sale of commissions in the Army—it is said, indeed, that she had also applications for bishoprics and deaneries. The Duke of York had control of the Army, and as the regulation price of a majority was £2,600 and of a captaincy £1,500 while Mrs. Clarke only charged £900 and £700 respectively, she drove, for awhile, a thriving trade; but at last Colonel Wardle brought the scandal before the House of Commons, and the Duke was obliged to resign his post.
[76] Two Boots, an allusion to George IV., and the next few lines refer to his ill-used wife, Caroline of Brunswick, who died in August, 1821, shortly after his coronation.
[77] A favourite phrase of the worthy Poet Laureate.
[78] “Dilworth and Dyche are both mad at thy quantities.” See Mr. Canning’s Parody on Mr. Southey’s Dactylics.
[79] Not only in “Seditious Sapphics,” but in divers kinds of verse “without a name,” happily unknown to English Poetry, before Mr. Southey.
[80] “Botany Bay Eclogues,” written in the Laureate’s youth, full of thefts and theories worthy of the Bay, though the poetry certainly is not.
[81] “Joan of Arc,” Mr. S. says, was written in six weeks, It may be so—it is easier to write than to read such an epic.
[82] “Thalaba, the destroyer,” a hotch-potch of all the measures in the English (and a few more) without rhyme. The catastrophe is precisely that of Tom Thumb.
[83] “Madoc,” a moral quarto, in which whatever is good for anything is stolen without acknowledgment from Robertson’s History of America, whose elegant prose Mr. Southey has traduced into barbarous blank, in applying all the striking incidents in the story of Columbus, to a buccaneering Welsh Chieftain of the 12th century.
[84] “Roderick the last of the Goths.”
[85] “Wat Tyler” was republished about the time Mr. S. suffered the Laurel—which gave rise to some edifying and curious contrasts of his new and old opinions.
[86] Mr. S. is guilty of sundry odes to the Holy Alliance, &c., &c.
[87] “Letter to W. Smith, M.P., from R. Southey, Esq.” of the contents of which most of our readers are in a state of happy ignorance—for the publisher, Mr. Murray, is the only person who suffered from Mr. S.’s “branding iron.” It was said of Joe Manton’s guns, that they were not sold but given away. As much might Mr. Murray say of this famous Letter, except that nothing of the Laureate’s resembles the said Joe’s in readiness to go off.
[88] “A Poet’s Pilgrimage to Waterloo,” in which Mr. S. clearly explains Dryden’s bull—“twice he slew the slain.”
[89] A right melancholy “Lay of the Laureate,” inflicted on the occasion of the nuptials of the late Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold.
[90] The author here alludes to that class of noble or opulent students, who at Oxford are called Gentlemen Commoners, and at Cambridge Fellow Commoners.
[91] A few of the names, indicated only by initials, are now difficult to identify, but most of them refer to well-known individuals.
[92] John Borthwick Gilchrist, L.L.D., an eminent oriental scholar, died in 1841.
[93] Samuel Rogers, Poet and Banker, died in 1855.
[94] Francis, Lord Jeffrey, a Scotch Judge, chiefly remembered on account of his long connection with, and numerous contributions to The Edinburgh Review, (the “Blue and Buff”) of which he was one of the founders. In an article in that Review (July, 1806) he denounced Tom Moore as “the most licentious of modern versifiers, and the most poetical of the propagators of impiety.” On this charge, which was too true to be answered in any other way, Moore challenged Jeffrey to fight a duel, and the two met at Chalk Farm, then a favourite spot with duellists. The proceedings were stopped by the interference of the police, when it was found that in loading the pistols, the bullets had been carefully omitted. This circumstance became the talk of the town, and Moore, especially, was subjected to much ridicule. Byron thus alludes to the duel:—
“Health to great Jeffrey; Heaven preserve his life,
To flourish on the fertile shores of Fife,
And guard it sacred in its future wars,
Since authors sometimes seek the field of Mars.
Can none remember that eventful day,
That ever glorious, almost fatal fray,
When Little’s leadless pistol met his eye,
And Bow Street myrmidons stood laughing by?”
English Bards and Scotch Reviewers.
When Moore read these lines he was so incensed that he addressed a challenge to Lord Byron, but by cautiously confiding it to a discreet friend it somehow never reached its destination. Moore afterwards became very intimate with Byron, but he still had his revenge, for he wrote Byron’s Life.
[95] George Birkbeck, M.D., president of the London Mechanics’ Institute, and founder of the Birkbeck Institution in Southampton Buildings, was a physician by profession, and an ardent advocate for the education of the people. He died in 1841.
[96] Lord Mayor Waithman, four times elected M.P. for London, a strenuous advocate for popular rights. He died in 1833, and an obelisk was erected to his memory, in Ludgate Circus.
[97] Jeremy Bentham, political economist, and father of the Utilitarian School of writers, died in 1832.
[98] Henry Brougham, Lord Chancellor, who took great interest in the spread of popular education, and was very active in the formation of the London University.
[99] Pronounced, “Zo-ee mou sas ag-a-po,” a Romaic expression of tenderness. It means, “My life, I love you!” which sounds very prettily in all languages, and is as much in fashion in Greece at this day, as, Juvenal tells us, the first two words were amongst the Roman ladies, whose erotic expressions were all Hellenized.
[100] The notorious Madame Rachel obtained large sums of money from a certain foolish woman, on the pretences that she could be made “beautiful for ever” and obtain the hand of the late Viscount Ranelagh in marriage. Neither Madam Rachel’s cosmetics, nor her matrimonial schemes succeeded, and Madame Rachel was sentenced to a long term of imprisonment for obtaining money under false pretences, whilst her victim became the laughing stock of London. Madame Rachel died before her term of imprisonment expired.
[101] R. B. Sheridan.
[102] This would seem to show that poet and prophet are synonymous, the noble bard having afterwards returned to England, and again quitted it, under domestic circumstances painfully notorious. His good-humoured forgiveness of the Authors has already been alluded to in the preface. Nothing of this illustrious poet, however trivial, can be otherwise than interesting. “We knew him well.” At Mr. Murray’s dinner-table the annotator met him and Sir John Malcolm, Lord Byron talked of intending to travel in Persia. “What must I do when I set off?” said he to Sir John. “Cut off your buttons!” “My buttons! what, these metal ones?” “Yes; the Persians are in the main very honest fellows; but if you go thus bedizened, you will infallibly be murdered for your buttons! “At a dinner at Monk Lewis’s chambers in the Albany, Lord Byron expressed to the writer his determination not to go there again, adding, “I never will dine with a middle-aged man who fills up his table with young ensigns, and has looking-glass panels to his book-cases.” Lord Byron, when one of the Drury-lane Committee of Management, challenged the writer to sing alternately (like the swains in Virgil) the praises of Mrs. Mardyn, the actress, who, by-the-bye, was hissed off the stage for an imputed intimacy of which she was quite innocent.
The contest ran as follows:
“Wake muse of fire, your ardent lyre,
Pour forth your amorous ditty,
But first profound, in duty bound,
Applaud the new committee;
Their scenic art from Thespis’ cart
All jaded nags discarding,
To London drove this queen of love,
Enchanting Mrs. Mardyn.
Though tides of love around her rove,
I fear she’ll choose Pactolus—
In that bright surge bards ne’er immerge,
So I must e’en swim solus.
‘Out, out, alas!’ ill-fated gas,
That shin’st round Govent Garden,
Thy ray how flat, compared with that
From eye of Mrs. Mardyn!”
And so on. The reader has, no doubt, already discovered “which is the justice, and which is the thief.”
Lord Byron at that time wore a very narrow cravat of white sarsnet, with the shirt-collar falling over it; a black coat and waistcoat, and very broad white trousers, to hide his lame foot. These were of Russia duck in the morning, and jean in the evening. His watch-chain had a number of small gold seals appended to it, and was looped up to a button of his waistcoat. His face was void of colour; he wore no whiskers. His eyes were gray, fringed with long black lashes; and his air was imposing, but rather supercilious. He undervalued David Hume: denying his claim to genius on account of his bulk, and calling him, from the Heroic epistle,
“The fattest hog in Epicurus’ sty.”
One of this extraordinary man’s allegations was, that “fat is an oily dropsy.” To stave off its visitation, he frequently chewed tobacco in lieu of dinner, alleging that it absorbed the gastric juice of the stomach, and prevented hunger. “Pass your hand down my side,” said his lordship to the writer; “can you count my ribs?” “Every one of them.” “I am delighted to hear you say so. I called last week on Lady ——; ‘Ah, Lord Byron,’ said she, ‘how fat you grow!’ But you know Lady —— is fond of saying spiteful things!” Let this gossip be summed up with the words of Lord Chesterfield, in his character of Bolingbroke: “Upon the whole, on a survey of this extraordinary character, what can we say, but ‘Alas, poor human nature!’”
His favourite Pope’s description of man is applicable to Byron individually:—
“Chaos of thought and passion all confused,
Still by himself abused or disabused:
Created part to rise and part to fall,
Great lord of all things, yet a slave to all:
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled—
The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.”
The writer never heard him allude to his deformed foot except upon one occasion, when, entering the green-room of Drury-lane, be found Lord Byron alone, the younger Byrne and Miss Smith the dancer having just left him, after an angry conference about a pas seul. “Had you been here a minute sooner,” said Lord B., “you would have heard a question about dancing referred to me:—me! (looking mournfully downward) whom fate from my birth has prohibited from taking a single step.”
[103] “Holland’s edifice.” The late theatre was built by Holland the architect. The writer visited it on the night of its opening. The performances were Macbeth and the Virgin Unmasked. Between the play and the farce, an excellent epilogue, written by George Colman, was excellently spoken by Miss Farren. It referred to the iron curtain which was, in the event of fire, to be let down between the stage and the audience, and which accordingly descended, by way of experiment, leaving Miss Farren between the lamps and the curtain. The fair speaker informed the audience, that should the fire break out on the stage (where it usually originates), it would thus be kept from the spectators; adding, with great solemnity—
“No! we assure our generous benefactors
’Twill only burn the scenery and the actors!”
A tank of water was afterwards exhibited, in the course of the epilogue, in which a wherry was rowed by a real live man, the band playing—
“And did you not hear of a jolly young waterman?”
Miss Farren reciting—
“Sit still, there’s nothing in it,
We’ll undertake to drown you in a single minute.”
“O vain thought!” as Othello says. Notwithstanding the boast in the epilogue—
“Blow, wind—come, rack, in ages yet unborn,
Our castle’s strength shall laugh a siege to scorn”—
The theatre fell a victim to the flames within fifteen years from the prognostic! These preparations against fire always presuppose presence of mind and promptness in those who are to put them into action. They remind one of the dialogue in Morton’s Speed the Plough, between Sir Able Handy and his son Bob:
“Bob. Zounds, the castle’s on fire!
Sir A. Yes.
Bob. Where’s your patent liquid for extinguishing fire?
Sir A. It is not fixed.
Bob. Then where’s your patent fire-escape?
Sir A. It is not fixed.
Bob. You are never at a loss?
Sir A. Never.
Bob. Then what do you mean to do?
Sir A. I don’t know.”
[104] A rather obscure mode of expression for Jew’s-harp; which some etymologists allege, by the way, to be a corruption of Jaw’s-harp. No connection, therefore, with King David.
[105] “A four-in-hand” in early Editions.
[106] On the repeal of the Corn-laws Sir Robert Peel resigned, and was succeeded by Lord John Russell.
[107] On the night previous to the action, a grand ball was given at Brussels.
[108] In October 1856, the Chinese captured 12 of the crew of the Lorcha Arrow in Canton river, on the plea that they were pirates. Commissioner Yeh, the Chinese commander, released the prisoners but refused to apologise for the outrage, thereupon Canton was bombarded and other acts of war committed. In March 1857 the House of Commons, by a majority of 19, censured Sir John Bowring, Governor of Hong Kong, for the “violent measures” he had pursued. The Ministry (who took his part) dissolved Parliament, and in the new one a large majority was returned to support Lord Palmerston, and the Chinese War. Messrs. Cobden, Bright, Milner Gibson, Layard and many other leading opponents of the Chinese policy were left without seats.
[109] Mr. Bright was absent on the continent for the benefit of his health during the whole of the session, and telegraphed from Rome his intention to stand again for Manchester, but he was defeated.
[110] This line was borrowed from Sidney Smith.
[111] The last eight lines parody the first eight lines of Zelica’s song in Moore’s Lalla Rookh.
[112] The Emma Mines.
[113] Sir Louis Cavagnari murdered in Cabul.
[114] The Nelson Column.
[115] The system of the purchase of Commissions in the Army was not abolished until 1871.
[116] In connection with these burlesques, it may be noted that this prolific dramatic author and inveterate punster was remotely connected with Lord Byron, to whom, indeed, he bore a slight personal resemblance. Admiral John Byron, the grandfather of the poet, was the great-great uncle of the author of “Our Boys,” in other words, both the poet and the dramatist were lineal descendants of William the fourth Lord Byron.
[117] The Princess Beatrice.
[118] Lord Rowton.
[119] Tara is about six and a half miles south of Navan by road crossing the Boyne by Kilcarn bridge. “Here, it is supposed,” writes Seward, “there was anciently a magnificent royal palace, the residence of the Kings of Ireland, where triennial parliaments were held, in which all the nobility, gentry, priests, etc. assembled, and here laws were enacted and repealed, and the general advantage of the nation consulted. This place is otherwise called Teagh-mor-Ragh, the great house of the King, and much celebrated in ancient Irish history.”
[120] Binns was hangman at this time.
[121] Thomas Moore was a great “Diner-out,” and we have it on Byron’s authority “that he dearly loved a Lord.”
[122] Seager—a distiller noted for his fine flavoured Old Tom, considered the best in the metropolis: whether tossed off short, or mixed into grog.
[123] The plant known as asphodel to the later Greeks used to be laid tombs as food for the dead.
[124] Daniel O’Connell. M.P.
[125] A possible place of exile for the Ameer, as it was used for the King of Delhi’s prison.
[126] “The Living Lustres appear to us a very fair imitation of the fantastic verses which that ingenious person, Mr. Moore, indites when he is merely gallant, and, resisting the lures of voluptuousness, is not enough in earnest to be tender.”—Jeffrey, Edinburgh Review.
[127] This alludes to two massive pillars of verd antique which then flanked the proscenium, but which were afterwards removed. Their colour reminds the bard of the Emerald Isle, and this causes him (more suo) to fly off at a tangent, and Hibernicise the rest of the poem.
Transcriber’s Note:
This book was written in a period when many words had not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated below. Misspelled words were not corrected.
Footnotes were renumbered sequentially and were moved to the end of the book. Obvious printing errors, such as backwards, upside down, or partially printed letters and punctuation, were corrected. Unprinted punctuation and final stops missing at the end of sentences and abbreviations were added. Commas were changed to stops at ends of sentences and abbreviations. Duplicate words and letters at line endings or page breaks were removed. Quotation marks were adjusted to match as pairs.
Where there was a difference in punctuation, accents, hyphenation, etc. between the index entry and the poem text, the index entry was adjusted to match that of the poem.
There are two anchors to Footnote [14]. A word is not printed in Footnote [123]: … used to be laid [in/on] tombs as food …
In the Contents of Parts, Page 187 was changed to Page 137 for Part 31.
In the index for March, March, Make-rags, the page number was changed from [32 to 33].
[“THE COMMONEWEAL, A Song for Unionists,”] and [“THE OLD CAUSE, A Counterblast”] were printed as side-by-side columns over three pages. The poems were consolidated so that the stanzas of each poem are sequential.