953 One tilt 'ill in< I. SONGS ' THE GOVERNING CLASSES," AND OTHER LYIIK a V1UTTKN IN A SEASONABLE SP1B1 r>V ROBERT I 1 .. BROUGH, .LJOND EDITION. U'lTH I'OKl.. \. < N I " '1ZETEL1. M CO., 16, HENRIET1 CO VENT GARDJ 1890. In Monthly Shilling volumes, small vo., iinip binding, and lllustraieu -vun Portraits and other Engravings, A SEEIES OF EOMANTIC BIOGEAPHIES OF PEOPLE WHO HATE MADE A NOISE IN THE WORLD. THE strangely interesting narratives which it is proposed to publish under the above title will take little or no note of those well-known personages who figure so prominently in the world's portrait gallery, and with whose lives and labours the ordinary reader is well acquainted. They will deal rather with people of more or less notoriety, who .are encountered for the most part in the by-ways of history, who by reason of their remarkable individuality, their po~w * of fascination, their ambition or their daring, their enthusiast or their eccentricities, their cunning or their crimes, have c< trived at one time or another to attract a large share of world's attention, but with whose romantic and often wildly adventurous careers, which strikingly confirm the trite adage of truth being stranger than fiction, readers of the present day are mostly unfamiliar. \ Now ready. KING THEODORE OF CORSICA. By PERCY FITZGERALD, illustrated with Portrait, Map, and Views. To to followed by SIR HENRY MORGAN, KNIGHT AND BUC- CANEER. By J. C. HUTCHESON, author of "The White Squall," &c. CHARLOTTE DE LA TREMOUILLE, COUN- TESS OF DERBY (The Lady of Lathom). By MAR* i C. EOWSELL, author of "The Story of a Queen," &c. , SONGS OP THE GOVERNING CLASSES," AND OTHER LYRICS. "Care for us! True indeed they ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish and their storehouses cramm'd with grain ! make edicts for usury to support usurers ; repeal daily any act whatsoever established against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrict the poor */ the ivars do not eat us up, they ivill ! " CORIOLANUS, Act i., Sc. 1. Cathos. Et comment done cela se peut il ? Mascarille. Les gens de qualite savent tout, sans avoir jamais rien appris. MOLIERE. Les Precieuses Ridicules. ROBERT B. BROUGH. SONGS OF THE "GOVERNING CLASSES; AND OTHER LYRICS. WRITTEN IN A SEASONABLE SPIRIT OF " VULGAR DECLAMATION,' BY ROBERT B. BROUGH. EDITION , , LONDON: VIZETELLY & CO., 16 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1890. J. MILLER AND SON, PKINTKRS, EDINBURGH FROM EDMUND YATES'S "RECOLLECTIONS AND EXPERIENCES " "The gentlemen who just about this time (1855) were establishing a new school of critical literature were constantly either savagely ferocious or bitterly sarcastic with professional literary men persons, that is to say, who lived by the product of their pens, who in most cases had not had the advantage of that university education in which their de- tractors gloried, and which enabled them to turn the Ode to Thaliarchus into halting English verse, or to imbue with a few classical allusions their fierce political essay or flippant critical review. And, save that he was endowed with more and finer brains than the average run of humanity, Robert Brough was the exact type of the class thus bitterly reviled. Spurning the life of com- mercial drudgery to which he was orginally des- tined, he commenced on his own account at a very early age, and awoke the echoes of his dull prosaic- town with the cracking of his witty whip. The 249439 vi FROM EDMUND YATES'S Liverpool Lion was a new feature in the annals of the Mersey's pride. " Those who wish to inform themselves of the manner of Robert Brough's early life-work should read his novel * Marston Lynch/ of which the author is the hero. I say early life-work ; but it was all, in fact, early enough, for he was but five or six and thirty when he died. But in the Liverpool Lion is to be seen the germ of most of what dis- tinguished his later writings the bright wit, the strange quaint fancy, the readiness to seize upon topics of the hour, and present them in the quaint- est garb : the exquisite pathos was not there, nor the bitter savagery, though gleams of this last were not wanting. "I have of ten wondered what gave Robert Brough that deep vindictive hatred of wealth and rank and respectability which permeated his life. It was probably innate ; it was certainly engrained. It was largely increased by poverty, by ill health, by an ill-regulated life, by an ever present conviction that there lay in him power to produce work of very superior quality to that already published power which was nullified by his own weakness of will. His was the poetic temperament, sensitive, nervous, irritable ; his too the craving after ignoble sources of alleviation in times of mental depression, 11 RECOLLECTIONS AND EXPERIENCES" vii and the impossibility of resisting temptation, come in what form it might.* " He was a Radical, a Republican even, but something partly his gentle nature, and doubtless greatly his wonderfully keen perception of the ludicrous kept him from emulating the literary achievements of the political contributors to the cheap Sunday press. His was not the coarse many-syllabled fustian of a ' Publicola ' or a ' Gracchus,' produced according to the laws of demand and supply, and paid for by a weekly wage. Robert Brough's was the real fierce hatred welling up from an embittered soul, and finding its vent in verse. Here is the mot de Venigme : " ' There is a word in the English tongue, Where I'd rather it were not ; For shame and lies from it have sprung, And heart burns fierce and hot : "Tis a tawdry cloak for a dirty soul : ; Tis a sanctuary base, Where the fool and the knave themselves may save From justice and disgrace : 'Tis a curse to the land, deny it who can, That self-same boast, 'I'm a gentleman.' * " On his twenty-ninth birthday he wrote me a letter com- mencing : " ' I'm twenty-nine ! I'm twenty-nine ! I've drank too much of beer and wine ; I've had too much of love and strife ; I've given a kiss to Johnson's wife, And sent a lying note to mine I'm twenty-nine ! I'm twenty-nine ! ' viii FROM EDMUND YA TES'S " RECOLLECTIONS " " That is the opening of a poem contained in a little thin volume called * Songs of the Governing Classes/ by Robert Brough, published in 1855, the year of which I am writing, by Vizetelly. It had scarcely any sale, and has been unprocurable for many years. From the freedom of its speech, the vigour of its thought, and the polish of its work- manship, it was a very remarkable production." PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. I HAVE been advised not to print my name to this volume of poems, (for poems I believe they are to be called, if bad ones) on the grounds, that being only known (where at all) as a " profane jester and satirist,"* the public will refuse to take me aiu seriewx ; and that what is at all events an attempted expression of earnest convictions, will stand a risk of being passed by as a collection of ephemeral squibs written in a spirit of the merest tom- foolery * Mr Ruskin, of Salvator Rosa. x PREFA CE TO THE FIRST EDITION Admitting the business-like force of the argument, I confess the proposed conditions appear rather too humiliating for compliance with. Seeing no reason to feel ashamed of my offspring, I cannot be brought to admit that my offspring should, as it were, blush for their parent. I have certainly made jokes for a livelihood, just as I should have made boots, if I had been brought up to the business (be- lieving that there is no harm or disgrace in either calling, so long as nobody's corns are unfairly pinched) ; but I do not see that I am thereby disqualified from giving serious utter- ance to my feelings on vital questions, affecting me as well as my neighbours. The honest mountebank, with his paint washed off and seedy surtout buttoned over his spangles re- duced, in fact, to the level of a mere anxious- faced taxpayer has surely as much right to raise his voice at a public meeting as his PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION xi fellow -sufferer the shoemaker. Nay, if long practice in " the ring " have given him a greater command of the powers of sarcasm, ridicule, and inuendo, than his brethren in the gallery, should he not be rather encouraged to a hearing ? The feeling of which the following ballads are the faint echo and imperfect expression, is a deeply-rooted belief that to the institution of aristocracy in this country (not merely to its " undue preponderance/ 7 but to its absolute existence) is mainly attributable all the politi- cal injustice, and more especially the grovel- ling moral debasement, we have to deplore a feeling by no means recently implanted or even greatly developed in the writer's heart, but one which the preparation of the public mind by recent events and disclosures* has afforded him the opportunity of spreading * This had reference to the War in the Crimea. xii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION to the best of his ability, and by such means of utterance as he had at his dis- posal. June 28, 1855. DEDICATION PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION. TO EDWARD M. WHITTY, AUTHOR OF "THE GOVERNING CLASSES OF GREAT- BRITAIN." MY DEAR WHITTY, ACCEPT the dedication of a volume, which, if not indebted to you for immediate suggestion, certainly owes to your inimitable expose of the Fundamental Wrong of this Country, much of that awakened public feeling which alone could have rendered its publication possible. I believe in the Revolution you have said is com- ing however slowly and with precocious eager- ness seize this opportunity of tacking my name on to the skirts of one, that will be reverenced (I xiv DEDICATION think I see your astonishment !) by future reapers in the open field, as that of one of the first and bravest pioneers to bring an axe into the forest. My modest song book, to your terrible story book, aspires to be no more than the fiddle that plays while the majestic panorama is unrolling ; still, if the fiddle plays well, it may contribute its share to the general popularity of "the entertainment.'' Should a single one of my tunes arrive at the dignity of being whistled in the street, I shall grudge neither resin nor elbcw. Your old friend, and sincere admirer, ROBERT B. BROUGH. CONTENTS. PORTRAITS. PAGK I. THE MARQUIS OF CARABAS . . 19 II. MY LORD TOMNODDY .... 24 III. THE EARL OF WHITECHOKERLKA . . 27 IV. LORD CHARLES CLEVERLEY ... 31 V. SIR MENENIUS AGRIPPA, THE FRIEND OF THE PEOPLE . . . . . .35 VL SIR GYPES TOLLODDLK .... 31) HISTORIC FANCIES. THE RETURN FROM SYRIA . . 47 THE INCAS OF PERU ... . 52 THE APOLOGUE OF CORIOLANUS . . . 58 A WORD FOR NERO . : (>7 GODIVA ....... 72^ "WANTED, AN INDIVIDUAL" . . . . 8O xvi CONTENTS MISCELLANIES. PAGE "VULGAR DECLAMATION" . . -. . 87 THE TERRIERS, THE RATS, THE MICE, AND THE CATS A FABLE ...... 90 WHO'S AFRAID? A TAUNT . . 100 CA IRA. A SONG FOR MINISTERS . . . 105 THE STRAWBERRY LEAF .... 109 ' ' A GENTLEMAN " ... .. . Ill FRENCH AND ENGLISH A MORALITY FROM THE TRENCHES ..... 114 A FEW QUESTIONS . . . . . 118 A FEW MORE , . 119 PORTRAITS. I. THE MARQUIS OF CARABAS. A SONG WITH A STOLEN BURDEN.* OFF with your hat ! along the streets His Lordship's carriage rolls ; Respect to greatness when it shines To cheer our darken'd souls. Get off the step, you ragged boys ! Policeman, where's your staff 1 This is a sight to check with awe The most irrev'rent laugh. Chapeau has ! Chapeau bas ! Gloire au Marquis de Car abas ! * The refrain of one of Beranger's most popular and in every sense of the word) stirring lyrics of the Restoration. Beyond this the two songs have nothing in common, with the possible exception of sincerity. Stand further back ! we'll see him well ; Wait till they lift him out : It takes some time ; his Lordship's old, And suffers from the gout. Now look ! he owns a castled park For ev'ry finger thin ; He has more sterling pounds a-day Than wrinkles on his skin. Chapeau bas ! Chapeau bas f Gloire au Marquis de Carabas ! The founder of his race was son To a king's cousin, rich ; (The mother was an oyster wench She perish'd in a ditch). His patriot worth, embalm 'd has been In poet's loud applause : He made twelve thousand pounds a-year By aiding France's cause. Chapeau bas ! Chapeau bas ! Gloire au Marquis de Carabas ! THE MARQUIS OF CARABAS 2 The second marquis, of the stole Was groom to th' second James ; He all but caught that recreant king When flying o'er the Thames. Devotion rare ! by Orange Will With a Scotch county paid ; He gain'd one more in Ireland when Charles Edward he betray 'd. Chapeau bas ! Chapeau bas ! Gloire au Marquis de Carabas ! He liv'd to see his son grow up A gen'ral famed and bold, Who fought his country's fights and one, For half a million, sold. His son (alas ! the house's shame) Fritter'd the name away : Diced, wench'd, and drank at last got sho! , Through cheating in his play ! Chapeau bas ! Chapeau bas ! Gloire au Marquis de Carabas ! PORTRAITS Now, see, where, focus'd on one head, The race's glories shine : The head gets narrow at the top, But mark the jaw how fine ! Don't call it satyr-like ; you'd wound Some scores, whose honest pates, The selfsame type present, upon The Carabas estates ! Chapeau bas ! Cliapeau bas ! Gloire au Marquis de Carabas ! Look at his skin at four-score years How fresh it gleams, and fair : He never tasted ill-dress'd food, Or breath'd in tainted air. The noble blood glows through his viens Still, with a healthful pink ; His brow scarce wrinkled ! Brows keep so That have not got to think. Cliapeau bas f Chapeau bas ! Gloire au Marquis de Carabas ! THE MARQUIS OF CARABAS His hand's unglove'd ! it shakes, 'tis true But mark its tiny size, (High birth's true sign) and shape, as on The lackey's arm it lies. That hand ne'er penn'd a useful line, Ne'er work'd a deed of fame Save slaying one, whose sister he Its owner brought to shame. Chapeau bos/ Chapeau bas ! (jtloire an Marquis de Carabas! They've got him in he's gone to vote Your rights and mine away ; Perchance our lives, should men be scarce. To fight his cause for pay. We are his slaves ! he owns our lands, Our woods, our seas, and skies ; He'd have us shot like vicious dogs, Should we in murm'ring rise ! Ckapeau bas ! Chapeau bas (rloire au Marquis de Carabas ! 24 PORTRAITS IT. MY LORD TOMNODDY. MY Lord Tomnoddy's the son of an Earl, His hair is straight, but his whiskers curl ; His Lordship's forehead is far from wide, But there's plenty of room for the brains inside. He writes his name with indifferent ease, He's rather uncertain about the 'd's/ But what does it matter, if three or one, To the Earl of FitzdottereFs eldest son ? My Lord Tomnoddy to college went, Much time he lost, much money he spent ; Rules, and windows, and heads, he broke Authorities wink 'd young men will joke ! MY LORD TOMNODDY 25 He never peep'd inside of a book In two years' time a degree he took ; And the newspapers vaunted the honours won By the Earl of Fitzdotterel's eldest son. My Lord Tomnoddy came out in the world, Waists were tighten'd, and ringlets curl'd. Virgins languish'd, and matrons smil'd. Tis true, his Lordship is rather wild : In very queer places he spends his life ; There's talk of some children, by nobody's wife But we mustn't look close into what is done By the Earl of Fitzdotterel's eldest son. My Lord Tomnoddy must settle down There's a vacant seat in the family town ! ('Tis time he should sow his eccentric oats) He hasn't the wit to apply for votes : He cannot e'en learn his election speech. Three phrases he speaks a mistake in each ! And then breaks down but the borough is won For the Earl of Fitzdotterel's eldest son. 26 PORTRAITS My Lord Tomnoddy prefers the Guards, (The House is a bore) so ! it's on the cards ! My Lord's a Lieutenant at twenty-three, A Captain at twenty-six is he He never drew sword, except on drill ; The tricks of parade he has learnt but ill A full-blown Colonel at thirty-one Is the Earl of Fitzdotterel's eldest son ! My Lord Tomnoddy is thirty-four ; The Earl can last but a few years more. My Lord in the Peers will take his place : Her Majesty's councils his words will grace. Office he'll hold, and patronage sway ; Fortunes and lives he will vote away And what are his qualifications 1 ONE ! He's the Earl of Fitzdotterel's eldest son. THE EARL OF WHITECHOKERLEA III. THE EARL OF WHITECHOKERLEA. YON sober carriage of drab you see, Whose lamps so biliously glimmer, Belongs to the Earl of Whitechokerlea, The late Lord Felix Trimmer. 'Tis a man to pity, and not to hate ; He would be good if he durst be great ; A difficult task he has planned to do God he would serve and Mammon too. He feeds the hind, and instructs the churl, That Heaven may pardon his being an earl ; And hopes, by pray'rs both early and late, The crest on his Bible to expiate, And the 'scutcheon, in church, o'er his pew we see, Bright gules and golden shimmer The arms of the Earls of Whitechokerlea, Whose family name is Trimmer. 23 PORTRAITS To feed six days on the very best, He'll touch no food on the Sabbath dress'd. That his name may long in the land remain, On his lawns he'll have no sports profane. Penance he does, for receiving rent, By returning as much he can per cent. His servants, livery wear, 'tis true, But of sober cut and demurest hue ; No narrower strip of lace could be, Than round each footman's i brimmer,' In the house of the Earl of Whitechokerlea, The late Lord Felix Trimmer. He goes to Court ; but, to make it right, He'll howl with Stiggins in barns at night. He votes in the House on the Tory side ; True to his order, he ' stems the tide ; ' But churches he founds, and the men who preach Sackcloth and ashes, he orders to teach ; To live in his castle with conscience squared, His labourers' hovels he keeps repaired. That his sons at College may tutor'd be, His serfs, with horn and primer THE EARL OF WHITECHOKERLEA 29 Are supplied by the Earl of Whitechokerlea, The late Lord Felix Trimmer. His carriage he'll stop, to a famishing group To give a ticket for flannel and soup ; A poacher he'll punish according to act, But send him in prison a meal and a tract ; He'll fast and pray o'er the labourer's case, To make him contented, and stop in his place. When press'd too hard with the claims of home, Over the sea will his sympathies roam : In the Friendly Isles or the Caribbee, Where the Christian light burns dimmer, Is a field for the Earl of Whitechokerlea, The late Lord Felix Trimmer. Much good he does, but he might do more ; A life so spent we must all deplore. Vainly he strives, for conscience's sake, The best of this world and the next to make. Would he could make his salvation sure, By giving up some of his goods to the poor 30 PORTRAITS Say twenty per cent. on the Judgment Day ! The chapter of Demas, who 'turn'd away/ When he reads his Bible, must surely be Than ghost or goblin grimmer, To the pious Earl of Whitechokerlea, The late Lord Felix Trimmer ! LORD CHARLES CLEVERLEY 31 IV. LORD CHARLES CLEVERLEY. LORD CHARLES is the hope of the Peerage ; No fears of a wreck need o'erwhelm The passengers down in the steerage, With men like Lord Charles at the helm. A publisher's shop full of blue books Is this budding senator's head ; He has also written a few books, Much noticed, and some of them read. He's travell'd o'er Europe and Asia, Half track'd to its sources the Nile. (His work, " From Park Lane to Dalmatia," Was brought out in wonderful style.) PORTRAITS He's finished five books of a poem, And acts of a tragedy four, Which fortunate people who know him, Say, Shakspeare, will certainly floor. But still from his station's high duties His Lordship is not to be won : Himself, e'en from Poesy's beauties, He tears, when there's work to be done. He won't let the State (how paternal !) Through indolence fall in the lurch. He edits a talented journal, Dissenters to bring back to Church. To him legislation's a pleasure ; (Though by it so many are bored !) Last session he brought in a measure To have the old Maypoles restored ; And, then, with the people so kindly He mixes their meetings attends Advises them not to rush blindly In face of their masters and friends ! LORD CHARLES CLEVERLEY 33 His charity, too, so disarming To malice he's founded some schools, (The costume and badge are most charming ! ) Himself, he has framed all the rules. With scriptural texts (his selecting) The walls round are tastily hung : Content and submission directing, As virtues most fit for the young. At soirees of all institutions, As chairman, to act he'll engage ; Of knottiest points, the solutions He'll give to men three times his age. He'll talk agriculture to graziers, And bid them to cultivate grass ; And pats on the head even glaziers, And tells them their business is glass ! 'Tis cheering and really delightful To see such a promising gem A Lord of Democracy frightful, The tide, who has talent to stem G 34 PORTRAITS The Peers, they say, care but for plenty, And won't even work for their pelf ! Here's one who has scarce turned twenty, Will manage the nation himself ! SIR MENENIUS A GR1PPA 35 V. SIR MENENIUS AGRIPPA, THE FRIEND OF THE PEOPLE.* 1st Citizen. Soft : who comes here ? 2nd Git. Worthy Menenius Agrippa ; one that hath always loved the people. 1st Cit. He's one honest enough ; would all the rest were so. Men. What work's my countrymen in hand ? Where go you With bats and clubs ? The matter ? Speak, I pray you. ~Lst Cit. Our business is not unknown to the senate ; they have had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor suitors have strong breaths ; they shall know we have strong arms too.' Men. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neigh- bours, Will you undo yourselves ? 1st Cit. We cannot, sir ; we are undone already. Men. I tell you, friends, most charitable care Have the patricians of you Coriolanus, Act 1, Scene 1. SIR MENENIUS AGRIPPA'S a Radical stout, With a rental of sixty -five thousand about, Of opinions the lowest though lofty in grade, A Sir Walter Fitz-Tyler, a Lord John de Cade. * This study is little more than a rhymed generalisation of Mr Whitty's admirable portrait of an individual pseudo radical baronet in the Governing Classes. 36 PORTRAITS You may call him a Leveller Do, 'tis his pride ; Nay, a stark staring Democrat True ! of the tide He's a wave ; you may stem him, my Lord, if you can ; Sir Menenius Agrippa's a popular man ! Reform ! Vote by ballot ! Short Parliaments cry ! Down down, with each bishop, church, pulpit, and steeple ! The Peerage 1 Urn ! Ha ! Well, we'll see by and bye*? Sir Menenius Agrippa's the friend of the people. He sits for a borough remote from his home, (Where he reigns like a slave-girt Patrician of Rome). He goes on the hustings in very old coats (He's a change at the club) when soliciting votes, His beard he neglects, and his nails he begrimes, (His jokes on clean collars are killing at times) ; Hang your wine 1 give him beer from the pewter or can ; Sir Menenius Agrippa's a popular man ! Sf MENENIUS A GRIPPA 3 7 Reform ! Vote by ballot ! Short Parliaments cry ! Down down, with each bishop, church, pulpit, and steeple ! The Peerage ( l Urn ! Ha! Well, we'll see by and bye ! Sir Menenius Agrippa's the friend of the people. He hates all routine lift the cart from the mud ! But the drivers are failing new blood, sir ! new blood ! Though the Lords have such pow'r mind in prin- ciple quite Constitutional oh, most undoubtedly right ! But the men ! an exclusive and arrogant class All behind in ideas not a throb with the mass ! If we could to their ranks Well ! we'll do what we can Sir Menenius Agrippa's a popular man ! Reform ! Vote by ballot ! Short Parliaments cry ! Down down, with each bishop, church, pulpit, and steeple ! 38 PORTRAITS The Peerage ? Urn ! Ha ! Well, we'll see by and bye ! Sir Menenius Agrippa's the friend of the people. 'Tis said Sir Menenius will soon be a peer, (He annoyed the Queen's government sadly last year) ; They've a service of plate for him tarrying but To make sure if plain " Sir " or " His Lordship " to cut. His constituents hiccup, " Oh ! just wait a bit Till we're rais'd to the peerage then see how things fit I oppress us much longer the Oligarch can ! " Sir Menenius Agrippa's a popular man. Reform ! Vote by ballot ! Short Parliaments cry ! Down down, with each bishop, church, pulpit, and steeple ! The Peerage ? Um ! Ha ! Well, we'll see by and bye ! Sir Menenius Agrippa's the friend of the people. GYPES TOLLODDLE 39 VI. SIR GYPES TOLLODDLE, J.P. Am The Fine Old English Gentleman. 'Tis said the age is sinking into indolence and " coddle," And that, of ev'ry manly English type, we've lost the model. A lay to prove the contrary but now has struck my noddle, Descriptive of the virtues of my friend Sir Gypes Tolloddle. Who's a fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. 40 PORTRAITS Half Snobshire's his of Flunkeyshire, he owns at least a fourth, Besides in Wales at Llandevowrdd, a spacious foot of earth, In Ireland too, Kilbeggarman Clapmammon, in the North ; Sir Gypes thinks highly of himself, yet knows not half he's worth As a fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. He's sixty -five ; his age, at most, at fifty -four you'd fix; He's six feet high, you'd take your oath Sir Gypes was six feet six, So like a lion's is his tread, you fear a lion's tricks, And, when he's pass'd, feel thankful you've escaped from blows or kicks, From this tine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. SIR GYPES TOLLODDLE 41 He dresses like a farming man, in russet gray or brown, He carries bundles, cracks his jest with common folk " down town," " No pride, you see ! like one of us ! " but, freedom to keep down, Lurks more than bowstring terror in the true Al Raschid frown, Of this fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. At Quarter Sessions sits Sir G-ypes, a judge as Minos grim, A poacher upon his estates, he'd sunder limb from limb ; Sir Gypes is not a cruel man, but has a notion dim, Long taught him, that the greatest crime's a liberty with him. Like a fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. 42 PORTRAITS He's not a sage ; but ears, to catch his sayings, so incline, The dullest phrase, he speaks as from an oracle divine, You somehow feel quite grateful when he says ' the day is fine,' For placing it past question that the sun does really shine, Like a fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. A hat two seconds on a head, he scarcely ever saw; The earliest word he learnt to speak was register'd as law ; Were you and I to laugh at him, he'd look on us with awe As lunatics escap'd from dungeon, whipping-post, and straw, Would this fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. SIR GYPES TOLLODDLE 43 His butler is a gentleman with thousands in the bank, His housekeeper, a lady, ne'er to mix with tradesfolk sank. Sir Gypes, of some ten thousand souls, enjoys the foremost rank As Number One the others making up the ciphers blank, To this fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. " But is it not,' 7 I hear you ask, " a goodly sight to view 1 And would you to the earth a tree, such fruit that gives us, hew ? Is he not hospitable, brave above the grov'lling crew In stainless honour as in rank V I frankly answer True ! He's a fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. 44 PORTRAITS He's loyal, generous his word's his bond, to king or clown. T grant him type of all those gifts have won our land renown; And yet 'tis hard ! six parishes, twelve hamlets, and a town, This splendid sample to produce, should be, as 'twere, boil'd down, Of a fine Old English Gentleman, Worthy the olden time. HISTORIC FANCIES. THE RETURN FROM SYRIA. AIR Le depart pour la Syrie. IT was Dunois, the young and brave, returning from the wars, In glory, over head and ears, but wholly free from scars : He sung a variation of his old conceited air " I've prov'd the bravest brave, and mean to wed the fairest fair ! " " Now that's a lie ! " a voice exclaim'd. The Warrior turn'd him round, But seeing but a Palmer gray, contemptuously he frown'd. 4$ HISTORIC FANCIES "I speak not of the fairest fair," went on the Pilgrim knave, "But I'll be damn'd eternally if thou'rt the bravest brave ! " " Thou wear'st a gown ! " said young Dunois. The Palmer answer'd, " Pooh ! Come walk your horse up hill ; you've time to hear a truth or two, (You'll hear but few in yonder town). Say by what doings rare You've earn'd (there's ne'er a doubt you'll get) the fairest of the fair ? " Superbly smil'd the young Dunois : "The trouba- dours have told, Methinks " "The troubadours be damn'd!" struck in the Vagrant bold, " At Prince's board, in Baron's tent, they glean their news, 'tis known ; My fancy pictures their accounts I want to hear your own." THE RETURN FROM SYRIA 49 u Ventre St. Grisf" cried young Dunois, piqu'd into language plain ; " A man, who all the hardships of last winter's fierce campaign Has known, is surely somebody." Replied the Pal- mer " True ! How many of those hardships, pray, were undergone by you ? " u All." "That's a lie ! (na,y, be not wroth you know I wear a gown) Pray name them ?" u Well, the cold" "Your cloak was lined with sable down : Your lady mother sent out furs to warm you while you slept : To forage fuel for your tent, two freezing hinds were kept. Another instance, pray." "While sick with fever, I went out, And seized the Soldan's standard from a fortified redoubt " D 50 . HISTORIC FANCIES ' k The wretch who struck its guardian dead, ex- hausted by the blow, Fell dying, killed by soleless boots, and porridge diet low. Go on ! " Again supremely smil'd Dunois : "A night attack, I recollect, on Joppa, with some hundreds at my back, Of men-at-arms, 'gainst fearful odds ; and hist'ry has not spunrd The fact, that 'twas their Leader who alone un- scathed returned." " I recollect it too," the Pilgrim's brow grew dark and grim " Those men-at-arms wore tatter'd vests, with naked head and limb ; The Leader who return'd unscath'd was clad, from head to heel, In spear and dart-proof armour, of the hardest Milan steel." THE RETURN FROM SYRIA 5* The sound of bells came on the air, the city bore in sight " Dost hear them, Cynic? " joyously exclaim'd the radiant Knight "My welcome 'tis! come, quit thy snarls our merry-makings share, I go to reign the bravest brave, to wed the fairest fair ! " The Pilgrim sigh'd, " I journey for an unshriv'd brother's soul, Who fell unknown on Joppa's plains ; for him, no belfries toll. Farewell, Sir Knight, in Mary's name, your race's birthright share Be held the bravest of the brave enjoy the fairest fair ! " ; 2 HISTORIC FA NCIES THE INCAS OF PERU. ATR When this old hat was new. THERE'S no excuse for ignorance, now Baronets and Earls Have taken, from the lecture-room, to pelting us with pearls. A grateful pig, I've humbly scrap'd to pick up one or two, And learnt a few statistics of the Incas of Peru. No doubt a many in this room may glean a hint or two, From what I've just been reading of the Incas of Peru. Peru is in America (you see how I've got on !) Producing gold in hundredweights, and silver by the ton ; THE INCAS OF PERU 53 With burning plains, but grassy dells, where cooling breezes lurk ; The place in fact to live with some one else to do the work. No doubt a many in this room, the self-same point of view Would take of it, precisely, as the Incas of Peru. The Incas were a Royal Race, descended from the Sun, In person quite distinguish'd from the folks of common run : They'd smaller hands, and cleaner teeth, a finer type of nose ; They had no chilblains on their heels, or corns upon their toes. No doubt a many in this room, with marks of birth in view Like those, would kiss the shoe-strings of the Incas of Peru. 54 HISTORIC FANCIES In right of their divine descent, they own'd Peru- via's soil ; Of course, such dainty finger-tips were never made to toil In fact, 'twas 'gainst the laws they should except to bring in pails Of water, for the monarch's bath, or cut the royal nails. No doubt a many in this room would swagger if they knew Gold -Shaving-Pot-in- Waiting, to the Incas of Peru. Now, something like a ruling class were they : beneath their rule, No common person's children were allow'd to go to school ; And none, to hold an office or command, could e'er expect Save those of Inca families, which kept the thing- select. THE INC AS OF PERU 55 No doubt a many in this room know younger sons who rue Not having such connections as the Incas of Peru. Their priests the people taught, the greatest crime was shirking toil ; And, next to that, begrudging to their lieges all its spoil. The cottar as he delved the mine, or reap'd the golden maize, Was made to sing war songs, in his indulgent master's praise. No doubt a many in this room had earn'd a pound or two, By writing flunkey ballads for the Incas of Peru. The Incas had their game preserves vast flocks of llama goats, That fatten' d on the workman's corn, like pheasants on our oats. 56 HISTORIC FANCIES An annual bunch (say one per cent) of fleece each serf might pull At shearing time, 'mid dance and song much cry and little wool ! No doubt a many in this room will this con- cession view, As rather feeble-minded in the Incas of Peru ! They'd Poor Laws too, well organis'd a man his work who'd done, (That is, the Incas') might not to his own poor garden run, Until his neighbours, old and sick, he'd help'd with might and main ; Which sav'd relieving officers from vagrants clear'd the plain. No doubt a many in this room, a scandal think it, to Abuse paternal rulers, like the Incas of Peru. The people were contented then, like hounds or rabbits tame ; THE INCAS OF PERU 57 But, well-a-day ! one morning fine, Pizarro's cut- throats came : 'Peruvians arm!" the Incas cry, "Your plains and cities fair, Invaders threaten ! " but the people didn't seem to care. No doubt a many in this room, as dastard traitors, view The hinds, who wouldn't rally round the Incas of Peru. The Spaniards cut the Incas' throats ; the people calm look'd on ; Slaves like a change of masters they submitted to the Don ; He paid as well, allow 'd them drink : four cent'ries have gone round, The Indians of Peru are still the slaves the Spaniards found. No doubt a many in this room, in this recital true, Can weep but for the downfall of the Incas of Peru. 58 HISTORIC FANCIES THE APOLOGUE OF CORIOLANUS. AIR Billy Taylor. ROMAN history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. Coriolanus was a noble Roman, Of ancient birth and lineage high, Son of a most superior woman, One of a ruling fami-ly. Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. THE APOLOGUE OF CORIOLANUS 59 When he came to his first moustaches, He, by his birthright, with the rest Took his seat on the Senate's benches Learning to govern, spout, and jest. Roman history is edifying, And though by Mebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. He got on (for the boy was clever) ; Showing a turn for Diploma-cy, Off they sent him, a row to settle, Pending with the Yolsci-i. Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it 60 HISTORIC FANCIES Soon, of Rome, he made the name to Act as a terror and a spell, (Titus Jones or Licinius Tomkins, This, by the way, might have done as well). Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it When the Romans came to hear of it, Much they applauded what he had done, And they cried, " We want a Consul, He's the party we must fix upon." Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. THE APOLOGUE OF CORIOLANUS 61 Spoke the Tribunes of the People, " Coriolaiius, why elect 1. He belongs to the class Patrician, To whose sceptres you object." Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. Said the People, " He licked the Volscians ; Rome with honours he has enriched " Bread is dear he supports high prices." "Into Aufidius, how he pitch'd?" Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. 62 HISTORIC FANCIES " He's the Sovereign Pontiff's cousin " Corioli's hard siege he won." " You, he has stigmatis'd as vermin " Dear old Corry ! how like his fun ! " Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. So they elected him First Consul Of the Roman Commonwealth, (Spite of the Tribunes' dismal croakings), Prais'd his acts, and drank his health. Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. THE APOLOGUE OF COR10LANUS 63 " No more Taxes, no more troubles ! Rome is saved," was the tipsy cry, " Now we have got the man for Consul Who pitch'd into the Yolsci-i ! " Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. " Wars mismanaged, Priests o'er pamper'd, Slavery, sinecures, prices high, Coriolanus soon will settle, Just as he did the Yolsci-i." Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. 64 HISTORIC FANCIES But when he came to his manifesto, " Rome is sold ! " was the alter'd cry ; " Coriolanus snubs the People, Just as he did the Yolsci-i." Roman history is edifying, And though by Niebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. Spoke the Tribunes of the People, " You were warn'd it serves you right." " That be hanged ! " said the wroth plebeians, " Here he insults us morn and night." Roman history is edifying, And though by Mebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying. Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. THE APOLOGUE OF CORIOLANUS 65 "Calls us greasy hounds and rascals ' "He's a Lord to his order true." " Won't hear a word against priestly rapine " "What should a Pontiffs kinsman do?" Roman history is edifying, And though by Mebuhr, in the German tongue, Proved to consist of nine-tenths lying, Morals, here and there, may be from it wrung. "Taxes are doubled, and armies perish ; Slavery spreads." "He's your chosen man." "Yes, but suppose we chose the wrong one?"