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The Dawn of the XIXth Century in England. Ashton John
Читать онлайн.Название The Dawn of the XIXth Century in England
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Автор произведения Ashton John
Жанр Зарубежная классика
Издательство Public Domain
“BRITONS! can this be endured? shall we suffer ourselves thus to be parcelled off? I hear you one and all say, No! No! No! To your Tents, O Israel! – for BRITONS NEVER WILL BE SLAVES.”
CHAPTER X
Invasion Squibs continued – “The Freeman’s Oath” – “John Bull and Bonaparte” – “The Eve of Invasion” – “A Biography of Napoleon” – “Britons, strike home” – Enrolment of 400,000 Volunteers – Napoleon at Calais – Apprehension of vagrants, and compulsorily recruiting the Army and Navy with them – Patriotism of the nation – Preparations in case of reverse – Beacons – Spies – The French prisoners – Emmett’s rebellion in Ireland – Its prompt suppression – General Fast – Relief of the Roman Catholics.
SEE yet another:
“The Consequences of Buonaparte’s succeeding in his designs against this Country: – Universal Pillage, Men of all parties slaughtered, Women of all Ranks violated, Children Murdered, Trade Ruined, the Labouring Classes thrown out of Employment, Famine with all its Horrors, Despotism Triumphant. The remaining Inhabitants Carried away by Ship Loads to Foreign Lands. Britons look before you.”
There were sham playbills such as – “Theatre Royal, England. In Rehearsal, and meant to be speedily attempted, A Farce in one Act, called The Invasion of England. Principal Buffo, Mr. Buonaparte; being his First (and most likely his last) Appearance on the Stage,” &c. “In Rehearsal, Theatre Royal of the United Kingdoms. Some dark, foggy night, about November next, will be Attempted, by a Strolling Company of French Vagrants, an Old Pantomimic Farce, called Harlequin’s Invasion, or the Disappointed Banditti,” &c. “Theatre Royal, the Ocean. In preparation, A magnificent Naval and Military SPECTACLE, superior to anything of the kind ever witnessed; consisting of an immense display of Flat-bottomed Boats Burning, Sinking, &c., to be called BUONAPARTE; or The Free-Booter running away; the Triumph of the British Flag,” &c.
“Our bosoms we’ll bare for the glorious strife,
And our oath is recorded on high;
To prevail in the cause that is dearer than life,
Or, crush’d in its ruins, to die.
Then rise, fellow freemen, and stretch the right hand,
And swear to prevail in your dear native land.
’Tis the home we hold sacred is laid to our trust,
God bless the green isle of the brave,
Should a conqueror tread on our forefathers’ dust,
It would rouse the old dead from their grave.
Then rise, fellow freemen, and stretch the right hand,
And swear to prevail in your dear native land.
In a Briton’s sweet home shall the spoiler abide,
Prophaning its loves and its charms?
Shall a Frenchman insult the lov’d fair at our side?
To arms! Oh, my country, to arms!
Then rise, fellow freemen, and stretch the right hand,
And swear to prevail in your dear native land.
Shall Tyrants enslave us, my Countrymen? No!
Their heads to the sword shall be given:
Let a deathbed repentance be taught the proud foe,
And his blood be an offering to Heaven.
Then rise, fellow freemen, and stretch the right hand,
And swear to prevail in your dear native land.”
Turning from the sublimity of this patriotic effusion, we shall find a change in “John Bull and Bonaparte!! to the tune of the Blue Bells of Scotland:”
“When and O when does this little Boney come?
Perhaps he’ll come in August! perhaps he’ll stay at home;
But it’s O in my heart, how I’ll hide him should he come.
Where and O where does this little Boney dwell?
His birth place is in Corsica – but France he likes so well,
That it’s O the poor French, how they crouch beneath his spell.
What cloathes and what cloathes does this little Boney wear?
He wears a large cock’d hat for to make the people stare;
But it’s O my oak stick! I’d advise him to take care!
What shall be done, should this little Boney die?
Nine cats shall squall his dirge, in sweet melodious cry,
And it’s O in my heart, if a tear shall dim my eye!
Yet still he boldly brags, with consequence full cramm’d
On England’s happy island, his legions he will land;
But it’s O in my heart, if he does may I be d – d.”
I will give but one more example, not that the stock is exhausted by some hundreds, but that I fear to be wearisome, and this one shows that if occasionally the matter of invasion was treated with a light heart, there were many, nay, the large majority, who looked upon its possibility au grand serieux.
“The hour of battle now draws nigh,
We swear to conquer, or to die;
Haste quick away, thou slow pac’d Night,
To-morrow’s dawn begins the fight.
Brothers, draw th’ avenging sword,
Death or Freedom be the word.
Did ye not leave, when forc’d to part,
Some treasure precious to the heart?
And feel ye not your bosoms swell,
Whene’er ye think of that farewell?
My Lucy said, no longer stay,
Thy country calls thee hence away,
Adieu! may angels round thee hover,
But no slave shall be my lover.
My Grandsire cried, I cannot go,
But thou, my Son, shall meet the foe;
I need not say, dear Boy, be brave,
No Briton sure would live a slave.
My Wife, whose glowing looks exprest,
What patriot ardour warm’d her breast,
Said, ‘In the Battle think of me;
These helpless Babes, they shall be free.’
Shades of Heroes gone, inspire us,
Children, Wives, and Country fire us.
Freedom loves this hallow’d ground —
Hark! Freedom bids the trumpet sound.
Brothers, draw th’ avenging sword,
Death or Freedom be the word.”
If the foregoing examples of the