THE WALLSEND RIFLE CORPS.
Of a’ the many bonny corps,
Which now our country nigh fill,
Where can ye shew me sic a corps,
As the bonny Wallsend Rifle?
The bonny Wallsend Rifle,
The canny Wallsend Rifle;
Where can ye shew me sic a corps,
As the bonny Wallsend Rifle?
Whe loups the dykes, an’ climbs the wa’s,
Then thinks it but a trifle?
Why, naen amang the black-breek’d chaps;
Naen but the Wallsend Rifle.
The bonny, &c.
They’ve brav’ry aboon the een;
And when on Throckley High Fell,
Th’ Newcastle chaps dar’d not engage;
They tuke the Wallsend Rifle.
The bonny, &c.
To see them shut, then run, then shut,
And then fall down or lye still:
O wuns! it’s better than a play,
The bonny Wallsend Rifle.
The bonny, &c.
With bravery to kill the French,
Long may their bosoms high fill:
And long may monny on us sing—
The bonny Wallsend Rifle.
The bonny, &c.
SONG.
Written on the King’s Birth-day, 1808.
Tune—Sons of the Tyne.
Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair Freedom,
You’ll there see a sight that will banish your fears;
A sight that would terrify Bonney, should he come,—
The sight I allude to’s our brave Volunteers.
Arrang’d in a row, with the brave Association;
The Gateshead, so gallant, are likewise in line;
Our Volunteers too, the defence of the nation,—
You likewise will see the bright Legion of Tyne.
The Sunderland too, with Artillery assemble;
The Shields and the Hexham with ardour appears;
The sight of these heroes would make Bonney tremble,
Could he get a peep at our brave Volunteers.
Ye fam’d Rifle corps, I must too praise your merit;
You’ll always be ready when glory does call;
The whole fir’d with freedom, with ardour and spirit,
When flank’d by the boys from the End of the Wall.[35]
You Patriots assembled on this grand occasion,
A sight that’s so noble each wounded mind cheers;
They’ll always be ready to repel invasion,
And merit the title of brave Volunteers.
May courage and candour still all your minds govern,—
Your zeal in the pages of history will shine;
Be true to your country and just to your Sovereign,
Ye sons of fair Freedom, of Wear and of Tyne.
[35] Wallsend.
THE TOKEN MONGER.
A SONG.
Tune—Erin go bragh.
The plaint of a mourner, deep sorrow oppress’d with,
Late, as thro’ Dean Street I pass’d, caught my ear;
’Twas a poor Token Monger, who prudence unbless’d with,
Had receiv’d for presumption, a trimming severe.
He gaz’d on the caution[36] with wonder dumb founded,
His dear self-importance severely was wounded,
At such a long list of opponents confounded:
The tokens he issued, were tokens of woe.
Ah well-a-day! said the poor Token Monger,
My project is scouted, my Mint’s at a stand;
Alas! the sweet hope, I must cherish no longer,
Of Jehu-like driving four in hand.
Oh why! e’er in day dreams illusive exulting,
Why did I my neighbours ne’er think of consulting!
Now grief from their fiat so hostile resulting,
Compels me to issue the tokens of woe!
I’ve sported rare logic, I’ve stuck not at bouncing,
I’ve prov’d myself rich as a crœsus in brass;
I’ve amus’d the whole town with my vaunting and flouncing;
But vain are my labours, the tokens won’t pass!
Vain too is thy friendship, dear Butterfly Billy,
Of all my supporters, most noisy and silly;
Wilt thou still take my tokens? sweet daffa-down-dilly:
Oh! those which I issue are tokens of woe!
Vanity whisper’d me, “John thou art clever,
“Thy neighbours beyond their own noses can’t see;”
I foolishly thought so, but never, oh never,
Was mortal more sadly mistaken than me.
Down from your windows, my friends, snatch your papers,
The ridicule now of all starers and gapers;
Some wag I am fearful will give you the vapours,
By offering you payment in tokens of woe.
Join, O ye pay clerks, my loud lamentations,
Come my ill luck sympathetic deplore:
On discount you reckon’d, but such expectations,
Alas! my good friends, you must cherish no more.
Tokens! God help me! why, why should I make them!
Neither will Pitmen or Keelmen now take them;
E’en in their wagers, they scruple to stake them,
Oh! none must I issue but tokens of woe!
No more of his sorrows the muse hath recorded,
Tho’ tunefully still he bewail’d his sad fate;
For listning no longer enjoyment afforded;
The evening was chilly, the hour it was late.
Ah, thought I, as quick homeward I now was repairing,
’Tis just with all wrong-heads, presumptious and daring,
In their projects, the end with the means never squaring,
Still baffled, they issue the tokens of woe.
[36] A caution against the tokens, signed by 118 persons, was published 26th November, 1811.
The following Dialogue, in bad Prose, was overheard by the Person who now attempts it in bad Verse.
(December, 1811.)
“Hey, Jacky, ma honey, hae ye seen the new money,
The money, that’s made, mun, at Newcastle town?
It’s bonie an’ breet, man, an’ tho’ it’s but leet, man,
Folks like it sae weel, that the notes are off flown.
“I frae the chap got, man, a score for a note, man;
An’ smash me! I thought him a thick headed feul;
T’ gie siller for paper, is sure a queer caper:
We knaw which is better, Jack, we were at skeul.”
“But, Will, I’ve a notion, you han’t seen the caution,[37]
The grocer folks up i’ their windows hae put;
They say they’ll be broken, if they take a token;
An’ seun that their shops they will hae for to shut.”
“Why, Jack, sure they’re feulish, to refuse them is cullish,
Why siller, man’s, siller, and paper’s but rags;
And as lang as we knaw that, there’s nane o’ them a’ that
Will make us put paper stead sill i’ wor bags.
“The bank there of Surtees, ye knaw how it hurt hus;
And, for the five score pund I’d laid by for’t lass,
They’re now off’ring twenty, an thinking it plenty;
Tho’ years ago, Jack, I was starving for’t brass.
“An Jack i’ the raw, ye very weel knaw,
The loss he cam too, when his house it was brunt:
His kistful of paper, went up in a vapour,
An of his sixscore pund he heard na mair on’t.
“No, no more their notes, shall they cram down our throats,
When we siller can get, man, to put i’ wour kists:
A f——t for their signing, an cautions sae whining,
Let them who won’t take them, wey, do it that lists.”
[37] The caution was mostly signed by the grocers of the town; it having been devised at their trade meeting.