Chapter X: Part III (4)

Then let England, Ireland, Scotland, join,
And bless thy name in every clime--
In unison we all combine,
To hail the Queen of England.
Then hail, Victoria, Royal Maid, &c.

All hail her Coronation-day,
Long o’er us may she bear the sway,
And all her subjects still shall say,
God bless the Queen of England.
Then Britons join both hand and heart,
That Heaven may all its joys impart,
And still protect and ever guard
Victoria, Queen of England.

Then let England, Ireland, Scotland, join,
And bless thy name in every clime--
In unison we all combine
To hail the Queen of England.
Then hail, Victoria, Royal Maid, &c.

T.H.

W. & T. Fordyce, Printers, 48, Dean Street, Newcastle. Sold also at No. 42, Myton Gate, Hull.

SAILOR JACK AND QUEEN VICTORIA.

You’ve heard of Sailor Jack, no doubt,
Who found our good King William out--
To Windsor Castle, too, he’d been,
A visiting the King and Queen.
Ri tooral, &c.

Now Jack, who’d travell’d far away,
Returned to port the other day--
He turn’d his bacca o’er and o’er,
For he found the Sailor King no more.
Ri tooral, &c.

“Shiver my timbers! here’s a breeze!
We’ve got a woman now to please--
So straight to London I must go,
To see who’s got the craft in tow.
Ri tooral, &c.

Then to the palace soon he came--
He’d got no card, but sent his name.
“Go back,” said they, “she won’t see you!”
Said Jack--“No damme if I do!”
Ri tooral, &c.

“Stand back, you lubbers! not see me,
The friend of his late Majesty?”
He floor’d them all, sprung o’er the stair
And got where the court assembled were.
Ri tooral, &c.

They in amazement view’d the scene--
Says Jack, “I want to see the Queen!”
When smiling, seated from afar,
Says she--“Well, here I am, old tar.”
Ri tooral, &c.

“All right!” says Jack on hearing this,
“I’ve come here just to warn you, Miss,
Don’t you by courtier sharks be led--
For, d’ye see, I likes your _Figure Head_
Ri tooral, &c.

“Don’t fear me, Jack--it’s true, indeed,
but I’m British-born, and take good heed;
And if against my peace they strike,
I’ll give ’em, Jack, what they wo’n’t like.”
Ri tooral, &c.

“Hurrah!” says Jack, “your Majesty!
Just like your noble family!
You knows what’s what, and I’ll repeat
What you have said to all the fleet.”
Ri tooral, &c.

“I like your manners,” answered she,
“An admiral you soon shall be.”
The lords in waiting there, said “No!”
The Queen--“Why, can’t I make him so?”
Ri tooral, &c.

“You jealous swabs, what are you at?
I knows I am too old for that--
So one request instead I’ll make.
Off pigtail you’ll the duty take.”
Ri tooral, &c.

The Queen, who quite enjoyed the fun,
Soon promised Jack it should be done,
Says he, “I’ve one thing more, and ’tis,
To ax you how your mother is?”
Ri tooral, &c.

“Why, hark ye, Jack,” the Queen replied,
“The old ’un’s still her country’s pride.”
“She is--and if you’ll view my ship,”
Says Jack, “for both I’ll stand some flip.”
Ri tooral, &c.

Then to his messmates soon he hied,
“I’ve seen her--it’s all right,” he cried,
“I’ll prove to you she’s wide awake--
She’s a trim built craft, and no mistake.”
Ri tooral, &c.

They ordered grog to crown the scene,
And drank--“The Navy and the Queen!”
Says Jack, “our toast shall ever be,
‘God bless her gracious majesty!’”
Ri tooral, &c.

THE QUEEN’S MARRIAGE.

A subject I want for a song, do you see,
So Her Majesty, look ye, my subject shall be;
Nay, there I am wrong, so my muse here avers,
_My_ “subject” she can’t be because I am _her’s_!
Forgive me I beg, if with words I do play,
And “hear a plain man in his own queer plain way,”
And still to my errors in mercy pray lean,
While the wedding I sing of our glorious Queen!
Our cups to the dregs in a health let us drain,
And wish them a long and a prosperous reign;
Like good loyal subjects in loud chorus sing
Victoria’s wedding with Albert her King.

Many suitors the Queen’s had of class, clime, and creed,
But each failed to make an impression, indeed;
For, for Albert of Coburg the rest off she packs--
Thus “giving the _bag_ each” and keeping the “SAXE!”
A fortunate fellow he is, all must say,
And right well his _cards_ he has managed to play;
The _game_ he has won, and no wonder, I ween,
When he play’d “speculation” and turn’d up “_The Queen_.”
Our cups to the dregs, &c., &c.

A hundred thousand a year he may get
For taking the Queen, which is something to wit;
_I_ myself had “propos’d,” had I known it that’s flat,
For I’d willingly take her for much less than that.
Even yet, if Her Majesty _should_ chance to scoff
At the bargain she’s made, and the matter break off,
I’ll instantly seek her, and lay my mind down,
And offer to take her at just--_half-a-crown_!
Our cups to the dregs, &c., &c.

Since the Queen did herself for a husband “propose,”
The ladies will all do the same, I suppose;
Their days of subserviency now will be past,
For all will “speak first” as they always did _last_!
Since the Queen has no equal, “obey” none she need,
So, of course, at the altar, from such vow she’s freed;
And the women will all follow suit, so they say--
“Love, honour,” they’ll promise, but never--“obey.”
Our cups to the dregs, &c., &c.

“Those will now wed who ne’er wedded before--
Those who always wedded will now wed the more;”
Clerks will no time have to lunch, dine, or sup,
And parsons just now will begin to _look up_!
To churches, indeed, this will be a God-send,
Goldsmiths be selling off _rings without end_;
For now, you’ll not find from castle to cot,
A _single_ man living who _married_ is not!
Our cups to the dregs, &c., &c.

But hence with all quibbling, for now I’ll have done,
Though all I have said has been purely in fun;
May the Queen and the King shine like Venus and Mars,
And heaven _preserve_ them without any _jars_!
Like Danae of old may we see it plain,
’Till time is no more, these bright _sovereigns rain_;
May pleasure and joy through their lives know no bounds,
So let’s give them a _toast_, and make it _three rounds_.
Our cups to the dregs, &c., &c.

ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE THE QUEEN AND PRINCE ALBERT.

PARTICULARS.

About six o’clock on Wednesday evening the Queen and Prince Albert left Buckingham Palace by the garden gate opening upon Constitution hill. Her Majesty and the Prince were seated in a very low German drotschky followed by the equerries in waiting, Colonel Buckley and Sir Edward Bowater, and the usual attendants. A number of respectable people had assembled outside the gate to witness her departure, and were ranged in two lines to admit of the carriages passing through. After the carriage had issued from the gate, and had proceeded some short distance up Constitution hill, so as to be quite clear of the crowd, a young man, who it is said had come from the Green park, and was standing with his back to the railings, presented a pistol and fired it directly, either at Her Majesty or Prince Albert, there being no person between him and the carriage. The Prince, who, it would seem, had heard the whistling of the ball, turned his head in the direction from which the report came, and Her Majesty at the same instant rose up in the carriage, but Prince Albert as suddenly pulled her down by his side. The man then drew from behind his back a second pistol, which he discharged after the second carriage, which proceeding at the ordinary pace, had by that time passed him a little. The reports of both pistols were very loud, and at the discharge of the second several of the female spectators screamed loudly. Several persons rushed towards the perpetrator of this gross outrage, and he was immediately seized, first by a person having the appearance of a labouring man, and then by Mr. Beckham, one of the Queen’s pages, and another bystander, by whom he was handed over to two of the metropolitan police, who conveyed him to the Queen square Police Court. By some it is alleged that the miscreant stood with his arms folded, apparently waiting for the arrival of the carriage; others state that he was crouching down, as if endeavouring to escape observation; and, after firing the first shot, he changed the second pistol into his right hand in order to fire it. The discharge of the pistols and the seizure of the offender scarcely occupied a minute. Her Majesty’s carriage sustained no delay, and moved on up Constitution hill at the usual pace, and by half-past six had arrived at the Duchess of Kent’s Ingestrie-house, Belgrave-square, where her Majesty stopped for a short time, but neither her appearance nor that of Prince Albert evinced any inclination of alarm or excitement at the deadly attack from which they had so providentially escaped.

NAME OF THE MISCREANT.

The name of the ruffian who has been guilty of this atrocious attack is Edward Oxford; his address is No. 6, West-street, West-square, and he is said to be a servant out of place. His appearance is that of a mechanic, from 18 to 20 years of age, and rather below the middle height. We have been informed that on searching him a list of the names of twenty-six individuals was found, which he admitted that he had intended to have burnt or destroyed, and some circumstance has transpired which leads to a belief that the persons whose names are contained in the list above-mentioned are in some way connected with the prisoner for some sinister purpose. On searching his lodgings a sword was also found, and some crape arranged for the purpose of being worn on a hat or cap in such a way as to conceal the face of the wearer, and the crape is also stated to be folded in a peculiar manner, so that the crape which was intended for the prisoner would distinguish him from the rest of the gang with which it is said he is connected, and who were to be similarly disguised.

We have also heard that on being taken to the police-station the following conversation took place:--

“What are you?--I have been brought up to the bar.

“Do you mean to say as a lawyer?--No; to the bar, to draw porter.

“Are you a pot-boy?--No, I’m above that.

“Are you a publican?--No, I’m not so high as that.”

We cannot vouch for the authenticity of this conversation, but merely give it as it reached us. The conduct of the prisoner throughout his examination manifested great self-possession.

The pistols are described as small pistols of Birmingham manufacture, rather well finished. They were loaded with balls, one of which struck the wall opposite to where the prisoner stood, and the other ball is said to have lodged in one of the trees.

The charge against the prisoner entered on the charge sheet is--“With maliciously and unlawfully discharging two pistols at Her Majesty and Prince Albert on Constitution-hill.”

[London: Printed by J. Wilson, New Cut.

ACCOUCHEMENT OF HER MAJESTY.

BIRTH OF A PRINCESS.

GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!!!

At ten minutes before two yesterday afternoon, her Majesty was SAFELY DELIVERED OF A DAUGHTER. The Queen, we rejoice to say, is, to all appearance, as well as her subjects can desire, and that the illustrious infant bids fair for life.

At five-and-twenty minutes to three a royal salute from the Tower and other guns announced the joyous intelligence to her Majesty’s subjects in the metropolis.

Her Majesty’s marriage, it will be remembered, took place on Monday, the 10th of February, nine months and eleven days since.

The Lord Chancellor was presiding in his Court with the intention of pronouncing some judgments, but he instantly locked up his papers and repaired to Buckingham Palace, as his presence is officially required on these occasions.

“EXTRAORDINARY GAZETTE,
“SATURDAY, Nov. 21, 1840,
“Buckingham Palace, Nov. 21.

“This afternoon, at ten minutes before two, the Queen was
happily delivered of a Princess, His Royal Highness Prince
Albert, Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, several Lords
of Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, and the Ladies
of Her Majesty’s Bed-chamber being present.

‘This great and important news was immediately made known
to the Town, by the firing of the Tower guns; and the Privy
Council being assembled as soon as possible thereupon, at the
Council Chamber, Whitehall, it was ordered that a Form of
Thanksgiving for the Queen’s safe delivery of a Princess be
prepared by his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, to be used
in all churches and chapels throughout England and Wales, and
the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, on Sunday the 29th of November,
or the Sunday after the respective ministers shall receive the
same.

“Her Majesty and the young Princess are, God be praised, both
doing well.”

LATEST PARTICULARS.

The following official bulletin was issued during the afternoon, a copy of which was forwarded to the Lord Mayor:--

“Buckingham Palace, Nov. 21, 1840.
“Quarter-past Three o’clock.

“The Queen was safely delivered of a Princess this afternoon at
ten minutes before two o’clock.

“Her Majesty and the Royal Infant are both doing well.

(Signed)
“JAMES CLARK, M.D.
“CHARLES LOCOCK, M.D.
“ROBERT FERGUSON, M.D.
“R. BLAGDEN.

A BABY BALLAD.

Of course you’ve heard the welcome news,
Or you must be a gaby,
That England’s glorious Queen has got
At last a little baby?
A boy we wanted--’tis a girl!
Thus all our our hopes that were
To have an _heir unto the Throne_,
Are all _thrown to the air_!

How could folks think she’d have a boy?
To me it seem’d all fun--
For in a dark November _fog_
We seldom have _a sun_!
Yet after all I’m wrong myself
To reason so, perhaps,
For we all know what winter is
The time for having CHAPS.

Doctors Locock, Blagden, Clark,
They made the great _diskivery_,
And having brought the goods to town,
Were “paid upon delivery!”
Prince Albert for a nurse sent off,
To tend his babe and spouse--
One living at the _Isle of Wight_,
As _milk is best from_ COWES!

From eve till morn, from morn till eve,
The pretty infant prattles,
Gives hope strong of life being leng,
Though oft it has the RATTLES!
These sprigs of royalty may soon
Be plentiful as sermons--
Prince Albert possibly may have
A lot of these SMALL GERMANS!

John Bull must handsomely come down
With something every year,
And he may truly to the child,
Say, “You’re _a little dear_!”
Sad thoughts will fill his head whene’er
He hears the infant rave,
Because when hearing a _wight squall_
It brings a _notion grave_!

Howe’er let’s give the Princess joy,
Though now’s her happiest lot,
For sorrow tends a _palace_ more
Than e’er it does a _cot_!
If in some years a son appears,
Her claim to rule were vain,
And being near the _court_ she’ll have
To _stand out of the_ REIGN!

QUICK, Printer, 42, Bowling Green Lane, Clerkenwell, and at 8, Little Paternoster Row, Spitalfields.

QUEEN’S WANTS

At Child Birth; or, what a bother

IN THE PALACE.

_London, November 21st, 1840._

Come all good people list to me,
I will tell you of a jovial spree,
News from London has come down,
That a young princess has come to town.

CHORUS.

What a bother in the palace,
In the month of November,
Such a bother in the palace
You never did see.

Now all those things, as I heard say,
The Queen did want upon that day,
Night-caps, gowns, frocks, and frills,
And old John Bull must pay the bills.

I must get all things I can,
A child’s chair and a small brown pan,
Nine hundred and forty gallons of rum,
And a sponge to wash her little bum.

A great deal of money I want,
You must put it down to my account,
Tops and bottoms, and sugar plums,
And a ring to rub her little gums.

I want a copper to make pap in,
And fifty-three dozen of napkins,
And when she’s christened, oh, dear me!
Wont we have a jovial spree.

I cannot help thinking, oh, what fuss
There was in calling in the nurse,
Run for a napkin, open the door,
The child has dirtied on the floor.

At three months old she’ll learn to walk,
Italian, Dutch, and Spanish, talk,
She’ll jump Jim Crow and catch the flies,
We’ll whip her bottom if she cries.

When Albert and I goes out to ride,
We’ll have our darling by our side,
And on her head we’ll place a crown,
I’ll beat her well if she wets my gown.

At the christening we’ll have such joys,
Sour crout, palonies, and saveloys,
There’ll be all my friends from Germany,
Coburghs and all the bugs to tea.

When she was born there was a pull,
On the purse of old John Bull,
With fair promises, I will be bound,
They’ll coax him out of ten thousand pounds.

There was such work I do suppose,
For to put on the baby’s clothes,
Oh, nurse, look here, how very silly,
You’ve run a pin in the little girl’s belly.

God bless the Queen, we wish her joy,
And may the next one be a boy,
And if they both should crave for more
Let’s hope they will have half-a-score.

MAY THE QUEEN LIVE FOR EVER.

Whilst the bright star of glory in Liberty’s rays,
Over the face of Great Britain resplendently shines,
Where’s the power upon earth can Victoria dismay,
Whilst her true British Subjects together combine.

Huzza, may the Queen live for ever, &c.,
Shall we ever see her like, no never;
Here’s her health in a bumper of wine.

Let the voice of her people re-echo the strain,
And her fame thro’ the trumpet extend thro’ the World,
May the sun over her throne ever shed its bright rays,
While her Banners of Justice and Mercy’s unfurl’d.

We’ll sing, too, in praise of Old England our Isle,
Who hath succour’d all Nations imploring her aid,
May that Omniscient Eye look down with a smile,
On our Queen and all who at her Mercy are laid.

John Harkness, Printer, Preston.

A STRANGER IN HER MAJESTY’S BEDROOM.

THE BOY JONES AGAIN!

“What will Mrs. Grundy say--Mrs. Lilley?”

On Wednesday, shortly after 12 o’clock, the inmates of Buckingham Palace were aroused by an alarm being given that a stranger had been discovered under the sofa in her Majesty’s dressing-room. The domestics and officers of the household were immediately in motion, and it was soon ascertained that the alarm was not without foundation. The daring intruder was immediately secured, and safely handed over to the custody of the police.

The inquiry into this mysterious circumstance has created the most intense interest at Buckingham Palace and the west-end of the of the town, where the report spread with the rapidity of lightning. At first it was not generally believed, but when it was known that the prisoner was under examination at the Home Office public curiosity was at its height, and inquiries into the most minute particulars were made in every place where it was likely to obtain information respecting an event which might, under present circumstances, have been attended with most dangerous effects to the health of our beloved Queen.

Shortly after 12 o’clock one of her Majesty’s pages, attended by other domestics of the royal household, went into her Majesty’s dressing-room, which adjoins the bed-chamber in which the Queen’s accouchement took place. Whilst there they imagined that they heard a noise. A strict search was commenced, and under the sofa on which her Majesty had been sitting only about two hours before they discovered a dirty, ill-looking fellow, who was immediately dragged from his hiding-place, and given into the custody of Inspector Stead, then on duty at the Palace. The prisoner immediately underwent a strict search, but no weapon of any dangerous nature was found on his person. He was afterwards conveyed to the station in Gardener’s Lane, and handed over to Inspector Haining, of the A division of police, with instructions to keep him in safe custody until he received further orders from the Home Office. We understand that as soon as the prisoner was handed over to the police he was immediately recognised as the same person who effected such an extraordinary entrance into Buckingham Palace about two years since, for which offence he was tried at the Westminster Sessions and acquitted, the jury being of opinion that he was not right in his mind. It may here be stated that the name of the daring intruder into the abode of royalty is Edward Jones; he is 17 years of age. In person the prisoner is very short of his age, and has a most repulsive appearance; he was very meanly dressed, but affected an air of great consequence; be repeatedly requested the police to address him in a becoming manner, and to behave towards him as they ought to do to a gentleman who was anxious to make a noise in the world.

At 12 o’clock on Thursday the prisoner was brought in custody of the police to the Home Office, and shortly afterwards taken before the Council, when, we understand, he was interrogated as to his motives for such extraordinary conduct, and particularly as to the mode by which he obtained an entrance into the Palace. He (the prisoner) told their lordships that he was willing to point out to the police the way he effected an entrance, and to state all particulars. Their lordships, on this statement, directed the police immediately to convey Jones to Buckingham Palace, and obtain the information he promised to give, and adjourned the inquiry until half past two o’clock.

The prisoner was taken to the Palace, and brought back again to the Home Office at two o’clock. At half-past two the Council reassembled, when we understand the prisoner made the following extraordinary statement:--

On Monday night he scaled the wall of Buckingham Palace garden, about half-way up Constitution Hill; he then proceeded to the Palace and effected an entrance through one of the windows. He had not, however, been there long before he considered it unsafe for him to stay, as so many people were moving about, and he left by the same mode as he entered. The next day he again effected an entrance in the same manner as on the previous night; and he went on to state that he remained in the Palace the whole of Tuesday night, the whole day on Wednesday, and up till one o’clock on Thursday morning, when he was discovered under a sofa in her Majesty’s dressing-room, as above described. The prisoner pointed out all the passages and places he had gone through previous to his arrival at the room in which he was discovered, and there appears no reason to doubt his statement. The hiding place of the intruder was first discovered by one of her Majesty’s pages, and when he was asked what brought him there, he replied, that he wanted to see what was going forward in the Palace, that he might write about it, and if he was discovered he should be as well off as Oxford, who fared better in Bedlam tham he (prisoner) did out of it. He was also asked if, during the time he was in the Palace, he saw the Queen or the infant Princess, and he replied that he did not, but that he had heard a noise, which he thought came from her Majesty’s room.

Her Majesty’s page, who discovered the prisoner, and the constable who took him to the station-house, were then examined.

The Council came to the decision that, as no property or dangerous weapon was found on the prisoner, it would be better to inflict a summary punishment; and a warrant was accordingly made out, and signed by Mr. Hall, committing the prisoner to the House of Correction, Tothill Street, as a rogue and vagabond, for three months.

The prisoner was immediately afterwards conveyed in a cab to Tothill Street.

LATEST PARTICULARS.

The sensation caused by the late mysterious entrance of the boy Jones into Buckingham Palace, appears to be even greater than that produced by his apprehension in the same place in December, 1838. The object which prompted so daring a proceeding is still involved in the utmost doubt; but it was not probable that it was his intention to do any personal injury to her Majesty, for had such been his purpose abundant opportunities of carrying it into effect presented themselves during his concealment in the chamber where he was secured. From a well informed source, we have heard the sofa under which Jones was found is in the ante-room in which the Princess Royal and Mrs. Lilley, her Royal Highness’s nurse, repose. On the night in question the latter had not long retired to rest ere she fancied she heard a noise similar to that likely to be caused by a person who was endeavouring to prevent his presence from being discovered, and was moving in a stealthy manner. Mrs. Lilley at first treated the matter as of no moment, thinking probably that the noise might have been imaginary. Its renewal, however, created an alarm, and she instantly summoned those of the attendants who were on guard in the adjoining ante-chamber. On their arrival the offender was quickly discovered and drawn from his place of hiding. The statement then goes on to say that her Majesty, who but three hours previously had been sitting on this particular sofa, having been disturbed by the confusion to which the event had given rise, called out and desired to be informed as to its cause. As an apprehension was, however, entertained that the sudden communication of the occurrence might be attended with an unfavourable effect on her Majesty, the attendants gave an evasive answer. The Queen repeated her command, and then the fact of the boy’s concealment and subsequent apprehension were made known to her.

The circumstances at that time appeared not to produce any very visible effect on her Majesty, but on Thursday symptoms of other than a satisfactory character were apparent. It affords us the highest gratification to be able to add that a few hours of quietude tended to the restoration of her Majesty.

It would appear that there is now no doubt but that the account given by Jones as to his having effected his entrance into the Palace by scaling the garden wall from Constitution Hill is correct. Upon being asked whether he had not met some of the attendants in the course of his progress along the corridor and staircase, he replied, “Yes,” but that, when he saw any one coming in his direction, he hid himself behind the pillars, or behind any piece of furniture which happened to be near. Hitherto he has been silent as to the motive which induced him to take so extraordinary a step as that of forcing his way a second time into the royal apartments, and when asked on Friday morning, after he had been upon the tread-wheel, how he liked his punishment, his answer was to the effect that he had got into the scrape, and must do the best he could.

There does not appear to be the slightest ground for the rumour that he is insane.

Many circumstances have transpired to show that Jones was in the Palace the whole of Wednesday. The delinquent states that during the day he secreted himself under different beds and in cupboards, until at last he obtained an entrance into the room in which he was discovered. Not much reliance can be placed in his statements, but, as such general curiosity exists on the subject, we may state that, in answer to interrogatories, he said, “that he had sat upon the throne, that he saw the Queen, and heard the Princess Royal cry.”

Prince Albert was in the room with her Majesty taking leave for the night when the miscreant was discovered under the sofa.

The fellow’s shoes were found in one of the rooms of the ground-floor. The sofa under which the boy was discovered, we understand, is one of most costly and magnificent material and workmanship, and ordered expressly for the accommodation of the royal and illustrious visitors who call to pay their respects to her Majesty.

MR. FERGUSON AND QUEEN VICTORIA.

_TUNE_--“_Jim Crow._”

Come all you Britons high and low,
And banish grief and care,
There’s a proclamation insued out,
“You don’t lodge here!”

CHORUS.

They ran away without delay,
To the Queen to banish fear,
But she said,--my chaps, its very fine,
But you don’t lodge here.

There was an Orange merchant.
As you shall understand,
So she started him to Hannover,
To cumber up the land.

The next it was a soldier,
And he wore scarlet clothes,
So the queen took up the poker,
And hit him on the nose.

The next was Bobby Orange Peel,
She thought he was a flat,
In his right hand was a truncheon,
And in his left a trap.

The next was Frank from Wiltshire,
She put him to the rout,
She wopp’d him all round Windsor park,
And cured him of the gout.

The next it was a leg of Lamb,
He thought to make things right,
Says the Queen, my lord, it’s very fine,
But you don’t lodge here to-night.

The next man was from Bedford,
A little chap that’s never still,
You don’t lodge here to-night says she,
’Till you have burnt the Poor Law Bill.

There Springed a little man from Cambridge,
Rice was his name you know,
So she made him dance and reel about,
And jump Jim Crow.

The next was Mr. Broomstick,
With him she play’d a rig,
She wopped him with the Poor Law Bill,
And choked him with his wig.

Then up came Dan O’Connel,
Saying I’ll befriend the people,
With a great Shillalah in his hand,
As big as Salsbury steeple.

Old women three hundred and ninety five,
To petition her did begin,
Crying,--Please your gracious Majesty,
Take the duty off the gin.

Says the Queen to do old women good,
I’ll strive with great delight,
Its all right Mrs Ferguson,
But, you don’t lodge here to-night.

Then toddled up old Joey Hume,
Saying sufferings I have had many,
The villains knock’d me all the way,
From Brentford to Kilkenny.

Says the Queen, I am going to Brighton,
So quiet let me be,
For if you come to trouble me,
I’ll drown you in the sea.

And when I open Parliament,
Then you’ll find I’ll do enough,
I’ll take the duty off the tea,
Tobacco, gin, and snuff.

I will make some alterations,
I’ll gain the people’s right,
I will have a radical parliament,
Or, they don’t lodge here to-night.

I must tell both wigs and tories,
Their tricks I do not fear,
Their sayings all are very fine,
But they don’t lodge here.

About the wigs and tories,
There has been a pretty bother,
I think I’ll give the devil one,
To run away with the other

Birt, Printer, 39, Great St. Anderw Street, Seven Dials. Printing of every description done cheap.

ACCOUCHEMENT OF HER MAJESTY.

Birth of a Prince of Wales.

THE ROYAL BIRTH.

“The Queen was safely delivered of a Prince this morning at 48
minutes past 10 o’clock.

“Her Majesty and the Infant Prince are perfectly well.

“JAMES CLARK, M.D.,
“CHARLES LOCOCK, M.D.,
“ROBERT FERGUSON, M.D.,
“RICHARD BLAGDEN.

“Buckingham Palace, Tuesday, November 9, 1841,
“Half-past 11 o’clock, a.m.”

Dr. Locock and Prince Albert, with the nurse, were the only persons in the Queen’s chamber, situated in the north-west angle of the palace. The Duchess of Kent and the Lady in Waiting were in an apartment immediately adjoining, and close to where Sir James Clark and his medical colleagues were assembled. The Ministers, Privy Councillors, and Great Officers of State occupied one of the state rooms. It has been stated that these all wore the Windsor uniform; such is not the fact; not one of them did so. The Duke of Wellington wore the dress of Constable of the Tower, Earl Jersey the official dress of Master of the Horse, the Earl of Liverpool, Earl Delawarr, and the Marquis of Exeter wore their household uniforms, and the Ministers their official dresses.

The birth took place at 12 minutes to 11 o’clock, and was duly announced to the great functionaries of the kingdom assembled by Sir James Clark, and they were soon afterwards gratified with a sight of the royal infant.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Wharncliffe, Lord President of the Council, and Lord Stanley, Secretary of State for the Colonies, were too late, arriving at the palace a few minutes after the birth had taken place. It is an error in some of the accounts which have been published which stated that the Archbishop of Canterbury was present at the birth. The Bishop of London was the only prelate present.

GAZETTE EXTRAORDINARY

The following is the official announcement from the _London Gazette Extraordinary_, published early in the afternoon:--

“Buckingham Palace, Nov. 9, 1841.

“This morning, at twelve minutes before eleven, the Queen
was happily delivered of a Prince, his Royal Highness Prince
Albert, her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, several Lords
of Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, and the Ladies
of Her Majesty’s Bed-chamber, being present.

“The great and important news was immediately made known to
the town by the firing of the Park and Tower guns; and the
Privy Council being assembled as soon as possible thereupon,
at the Council Chamber, Whitehall, it was ordered that a Form
of Thanksgiving for the Queen’s safe delivery of a Prince be
prepared by his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, to be used
in all churches and chapels throughout England, Wales, and the
town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, on Sunday, the 14th of November,
or the Sunday after the respective ministers shall receive the
same.

“Her Majesty and the Infant Prince are, God be praised, both
doing well.”

The auspicious event, although daily anticipated for the last fortnight, has come upon the country with a pleasurable sudden surprise.

Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent remained with the Queen throughout the day until six o’clock in the afternoon, when Her Royal Highness returned to Clarence House.

The nobility and gentry thronged during the afternoon to Buckingham Palace.

THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES.

Tune--King and the Countryman.

You’ve heard of Sailor Jack, no doubt,
Who found our Queen Victoria out,
Who ev’ry time ashore he went,
On visiting the Queen was bent.
Ri tooral, &c.

Now Jack, who’d travell’d far away,
Returned to port the other day--
He left his messmates all behind,
For he heard the Queen had been confin’d.
Ri tooral, &c.

‘Shiver my timbers! here’s a breeze
She’s got a young ’un now to please--
So straight to London I must go,
To see who’s got the craft in tow.’
Ri tooral, &c.

Now Jack he to the Palace came--
He’d got no card, so he sent his name.
‘Go back!’ says they, ‘she wont see you!’
Says Jack--‘No, damme, if I do!’
Ri tooral, &c.

‘Stand back, you lubbers! Not see me,
The old friend of Her Majesty?’
He floored them all--’mid shout and din--
And got where the Queen _was lying in_.
Ri tooral, &c.

Each in amazement viewed the scene--
Says he ‘I’m comed to see the Queen!’
The Queen she threw the curtains back--
Says she--‘What’s that my old friend Jack?’
Ri tooral, &c.

Jack turned his quid, and scratched his tail,
When he saw the Queen looked rather pale--
Says she, ‘Jack, don’t you be dejected--
They say I’m as well as can be expected!’
Ri tooral, &c.

Says Jack, when he beheld the boy,
‘Your Majesty, I wish you joy!
Some day he’ll rule us in your stead,
For damme, I likes his figure head!’
Ri tooral, &c.

The folks at Court enjoyed the scene,
To see the sailor with the Queen,
For he took the Prince upon his lap,
And gave him lots of royal pap.
Ri tooral, &c.

Says Jack, ‘So long I’ve been to sea,
That ev’ry fish is known to me--
I’ve seen their heads, I’ve seen their tails,
And now I’ve seen a Prince of _Wales_.’
Ri tooral, &c.

It was really quite a treat to see
Jack dance the Prince upon his knee--
But, finding what he was about,
He _held his Royal Highness out_!
Ri tooral, &c.

The nurse his Royal Highness took,
And gave to Jack a knowing look--
And with the rest, to crown the scene,
Jack took his caudle with the Queen!
Ri tooral, &c.

Then Jack he to his shipmates went,
On fun and frolic still intent--
Our standing toast shall be, he cries,
‘God bless his little Royal eyes!’
Ri tooral, &c.

John Marks, Printer, 206, Brick Lane, Whitechapel.--Country Dealers and the Trade supplied.

A NEW SONG ON THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES

Who was born on Tuesday, November 9th, 1841.

John Harkness, Printer, Church Street, Preston.

There’s a pretty fuss and bother both in country and town,
Since we have got a present and an heir unto the crown,
A little Prince of Wales so charming and so sly,
And the ladies shout with wonder, what a pretty little boy.

CHORUS.

So let us be contented and sing with mirth and joy,
Some things must be got ready for the pretty little boy.

He must have a little musket, a trumpet, and a kite,
A little penny rattle and silver sword so bright,
A little cap and feather with scarlet coat so smart,
And a pretty little hobby horse to ride about the park.

Prince Albert he will often take the young Prince on his lap,
And fondle him so loving while he stirs about the pap,
He will pin on his flannel before he takes his nap,
Then dress him out so stylish with his little clouts and cap.

He must have a dandy suit to strut about the town.
John Bull must rake together six or seven thousand pound,
You’d laugh to see his daddy, at night he homeward runs,
With some peppermint or lollipops, sweet cakes and sugar plums.

He will want a little fiddle, and a little German flute,
A little pair of stockings and a pretty pair of boots,
With a handsome pair of spurs and a golden headed cane,
And a stick of barley-sugar as long as Drury Lane.

An old maid ran through the palace, which did the nobs surprise,
Bawling out he’s got his daddy’s mouth his mammy’s nose and eyes
He will be as like his daddy as a frigate’s like a ship,
If he had got mustachoes on his upper lip.

Now to get these little nicities the taxes must be rose,
For the little Prince of Wales wants so many suits of clothes,
So they must tax the frying pan, the windows and the doors,
The bedsteads and the tables, kitchen-pokers and the floors.

Now all you pretty maidens, mind what the story says,
And try to get a son in nine months and eleven days,
That’s what folks call industry, so damsels young and fair,
Be quickly rolling on the straw with a pretty little dear.

A NEW SONG ON THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES

J. Harkness, Printer, 121 and 122 Church Street Office, North Road, Preston.

Come all you bold Britons, and list for awhile,
And I will sing you a song that will make you to smile,
A young Prince of Wales is come to town,
The pride of all the nation, and heir to the crown,
On the ninth of November, ’tis true ’pon my life,
All Buckingham Palace was bustle and strife,
The nurses stared at each other with joy,
Bawling, our queen she has got a most beautiful boy.

CHORUS.

The bells they shall ring, and the music shall play,
The ninth of November, remember the day.
Through England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales,
Shout long life to the Queen and the young Prince of Wales.

It was on the ninth, about eleven in the morn,
When the young Prince of Wales in the palace was born,
Little Vic. she was there, as you all may be sure,
Besides doctors, nurses, and gossips--a score,
Says Vic. I declare he is the image of me,
And there’s my dear Albert’s nose to a tee,
One and all declared, when he grew up a man,
He would drub all the foes that infested the land.

Then Albert he stepped in with a face full of glee,
And danced and he dandled his son on his knee,
When all in an instant his countenance fell,
And he cried “don’t I see a most terrible smell!”
“Mine Cot,” says Al., “oh Lord what a mess!
He has completely spoilt my new morning dress,
Be quick go fetch me some napkins or towels,
For my son, the young Prince, is relaxed in his bowels.”

Of friends and relations there came such a crew,
Of Lords, Dukes, and Ladies, and Germans a few,
Each one bringing presents, the young Prince to please,
They all were as brisk as a cart load of fleas;
Lady Melbourn she brought him a neat little lamb,
With lollipops he was by Miss Russel cramm’d,
There were cradles and pap, boots, and rattles complete,
And lots of small chairs with large holes in the seat.

The head nurse Miss Peel, declared with much joy,
She never saw such a sweet little boy.
She’d clap him she said at the head of the police,
That is if his mamma would give him that leave,
Says old Waterloo Nell, it shall be no such thing,
For the Prince he was born to become a great king;
When the child to decide the question let fly,
With a basin of pap knock’d out Betty Peel’s eye.

The young Prince was set at the end of the room,
And instead of a sceptre he shouldered a broom,
His great uncle Ernest swore he could whack,
And he gave him in earnest a most devilish crack,
They all were as merry as grigs I declare,
Each one seem’d determin’d to drive away care,
One and all took a glass and drank with much joy,
Long life to the Prince, he’s a fine little boy.

THE OWDHAM CHAP’S VISIT TO TH’ QUEEN.

It happen’d t’other Monday morn, while seated at my loom, sirs,
Pickin’ th’ ends fro, eaut o’th yorn, caur Nan pop’d into th’ room sirs,
Hoo shouted eaut, aw tell thee, Dick, aw think thour’t actin shabby,
So off to Lunnon cut thy stick, and look at th’ royal babby.

Every thing wur fun an’ glee, they laugh’d at o aw tow’d em,
An’ ax’d if th’ folk wur o like me, ut happen’d t’ come fro’ Owdham.

Then off aw goes an’ never stops, till into th’ palace handy,
Th’ child wur sucking lollypops, plums, and sugarcandy;
An’ little Vic i’th nook aw spied, a monkey on her lap, mon,
An’ Albert sittin’ by her side, a mixin’ gin an’ pap mon.
Everything wur, &c.

When Albert seed me, up he jumps, an’ reet to me did waddle;
An’ little Vicky sprung her pumps wi’ shakin’ o’ mydaddle;
They ax’d to have a glass o’ wine, for pleasure up it waxes;
O yes, says aw, six eight or nine, it o’ comes eaut o’th taxes.
Everything wur, &c.

They took the Prince of Wales up soon, an’ gan it me to daudle;
Then Albert fotch’d a silver spoon, an’ ax’d me to taste at t’ caudle,
Ecod, says aw, that’s good awd buck, it’s taste aws ne’er forget mon,
An’ if my owd mother’d gan sich suck, ’cod aw’d been suckin yet mon.
Everything wur, &c.

They ax’d me heau aw liked their son, an’ prais’d both th’ nose an eyes
on’t,
Aw towd ’em though’t were only fun, ’t wur big enough for th’ size on’t,
Says aw your Queenship makes a stir (hoo shapes none like a dunce mon
But if eaur Nan lived as well as her hoo’d breed ’em two at wonce mon,)
Everything wur, &c.

They said they’d send their son to school as soon as he could walk mon,
And then for fear he’d be a foo, they’d larn him th’ Owdham talk mon,
Says aw there’s summut else as well, there’s nout loik drainin th’ whole
pit,
For fear he’ll ha’ for t’ keep hissell, aw’d larn him work i’th coal pit.
Everything wur, &c.

Then up o’th slopes we hod a walk’ to give our joints relief sirs,
And then we sat us deun to talk, ’beaut politics and beef sirs,
Aw towd ’em th’ corn laws wur but froth, an’ th’ taxes must o drop mon,
That when eaur Nan wur makin broath, some fat might get to th’ top mon,
Everything wur, &c.

So neau my tale is at an end but nowt but truth aw tells sirs,
If ever we want the times to mend we’ll ha’ for t’ do ’t eaur sells sirs,
So neau yo seen aw’ve towd my sprees, and sure as aw am wick mon,
If my owd wife and Albert dees aw’ll try for’t wed wi Vic mon.
Everything wur, &c.

J. HARKNESS, Printer, 121, Church Street, Preston.

THE OPENING OF THE ROYAL EXCHANGE.

TUNE.--“_Great Meat Pie._”

On Monday, October twenty-eight,
The Queen, you’re all aware,
Open’d the Royal Exchange in state,
And lunch’d with the great Lord Mayor;
A holiday all London made,
At least there were many that stole one,
While _half_ a sovereign was gladly paid,
To get a sight of a _whole_ one!
Ri fol, &c.

Shop fronts of articles were bared,
To make way for those who’d chink,
While a label over their heads declar’d
Them ‘warranted not to shrink.’
At a furrier’s shop close by, a sight
Of human mugs did grin, sirs,
With a bill above, in black and white,
“A stock of _muffs_ within, sirs!”
Ri fol, &c.

The state procession pass’d by quick,
A very spicy state in,
There were Lords of the Gold and Silver Stick,
And other _sticks_ in waiting.
The Master of the Hounds, of course,
(A regular _buck_) was there,
And the noble Master of the Horse,
Who went to see the _mayor_!
Ri fol, &c.

At Temple Bar, Lord Magnus Mayor,
Perform’d King Dick that day,
And offer’d Vic. his sword so bare,
In a werry _cutting_ way,
“Of such fine looking blades,” cries Vic.,
“In the City there but few are,
So take it back again, old flick,
I’m not so sordid (_sworded_) as you are.”
Ri fol, &c.

The aldermen made quite a fix,
Their nags so frisk’d and play’d did,
Ducrow could never do such tricks
On horsehack such as they did.
They reach’d the ’Change, quite pleas’d, no doubt,
When the trumpeter, clever elf!
Gave his trumpet a good _blow out_,
Though he didn’t get one _himself_.
Ri fol, &c.

The Address was read to her apace,
Though they minded all their stops,
They thank’d her for coming to _open_ the place,
Though she _shut_ up all their shops.
When Mr. Tite was introduc’d,
Says the Queen, with much affection,
“Well, Mr. Tite, with much delight,
I admire the fine erection.”
Ri fol, &c.

When Lambert Jones kiss’d hands, so coy,
Says Vic., but not with malice,
“I wonder, Al., if that’s the _boy_
That got inside my palace?”
Just then the bells began to ring,
And the band began to play,
While Magnay whistled, for he couldn’t sing,
“It is our op’ning day.”
Ri fol, &c.

To luncheon now they went full tear,
For splendour naught could beat it,
And as it was a _game_ affair,
They were game enough to eat it.
The wine and toasts went round, so Vic.
Gave, “Here, success to trade is,”
Says Albert, “Well, I’ll be a brick,
I’ll give ‘The charming ladies.’”
Ri fol, &c.

For Alderman Gibbs no small amount
Of enquiries folks were making,
’Twas thought he had gone to his long account,
The reckoning day mistaking.
But Michael went another way
To the banquet so inducing,
For though he expected duck that day,
He didn’t want a _gaosing_.
Ri fol, &c.

The royal pile they now walk’d round,
When they reach’d the merchants’ space,
At the brazen trumpet’s martial sound,
Her Majesty open’d the place.
Thus clos’d the door with great eclat,
(As a few remark’d, so witty,)
“Sho help ma _cot_, I never _shaw_
_Chit_ a sphlendid _chite_ in the _chitty_.”
Ri fol, &c.

LONDON.--Published by J. FAIRBURN, Commercial Place, City Road.

PRINCE OF WALES’ MARRIAGE.

Everybody stop and listen to my ditty,
And let the news spread from town to city,
The Prince of Wales has long enough tarried,
And now we know he has got married.

For he went to sleep all night
And part of the next day,
The Prince of Wales must tell some tales,
With his doo dah, doo dah, day.

His pastime for a week there’s no disputing,
For the first three days he went out shooting,
He’s like his father I don’t deceive her,
And she like Vick is a good feeder.

The next two days, so it is said, sir,
He began to dig out the parsley bed, sir,
Like his dad he does understand,
And knows how to cultivate a bit.

The first day over he laid in clover,
And just alike he felt all over;
At fox-hunting he’s clever and all races,
Yet she might throw him out of the traces.

He must not go larking along with the gals,
Keep out of the Haymarket and Pall Mall;
And to no married woman must he speak,
She’ll stand no nonsense or half-crowns a-week.

In November next she must not fail
But have a little Prince of Wales,
Young Albert he must not be beat,
But contrive to make both ends meet.

When his wife is in a funny way,
Then he must not go astray;
Of all those things he must take warning,
Nor go out with the girls and stop till morning.

The last Prince of Wales was a good’un to go,
He would ride with the girls in Rotten Row,
He use to flare-up, he was no joker,
He was as fat as a Yarmouth bloater.

He must look to his stock and cultivation,
He must be a father to the nation;
He must begin to reap and sow,
Be a rum’un to look at, but a good’un to go.

He wants six maids as light as fairies,
To milk the cows and look to the dairy,
To his wife the household affairs confiding,
While the Prince of Wales goes out riding.

Long life to the Prince and his fair lady,
May she have health and bouncing babies,
May the Prince be King, we want no other,
And take the steps of his father and mother.

H. DISLEY, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London, W.C.

A SCENE IN THE ELECTION.

A NEW FARCE.

Performed in various parts of the United Kingdom by His Majesty’s Servants.

SCENE.--_A Cobbler’s Stall._ CRISPIN _at work hammering a sole_.

_Crispin._ By the lord of the manor, thou art a tough piece, and not much unlike the hide of my wife Bridget; for though I should beat her hide with all my might and main, I cannot shape the vixen to my fancy: Oh, you hard soles (_hammering_) are the most useless of all others, except to the wearer. If I was a leading man in the state, I should move for a law to be enacted, that good _leather_ and good _hemp_ should only be employed for smuggling courtiers, purse-proud citizens, and for parliament-men--if such a law should pass, it would be a rare thing for trade in general.

Enter PANDER and SIR BILBERRY DIBBLE.

_Pand._ Here’s a psalm-singing cobbler, Sir Bilberry; he has a vote for the borough, as good as the best; do not let us pass honest Crispin.

_Sir B._ By the essence of lillies, thou’rt right, Pander; the scum of mobility, as well as the scum of gentry, at this time, must be attended to; ’tis a sacrifice that’s due to necessity. Therefore, may I never more breathe the mellifluous air of Montpellier, if I do not descend to request his suffrage; the controverted occasion carries a pardon for the humiliating and filthy condescension.--Master Shoe-maker, your most devoted humble servant (_bowing_), I am, sweet sir, yours to the ground. (_still bowing._)

_Cris._ Master Shoe-maker! do you mean to mock me?--No, no, I am no shoe-maker, but like some of your very fine gentlemen at the head of affairs--a poor cobbler at best.

_Sir B._ This fellow, Pander, has been commended by some blockhead, like himself for his insufferable bluntness, or he would never presume to be so shocking to the feelings of delicacy.

_Pan._ Bear with him, Sir Bilberry; this is a time when men will say whatever comes uppermost, paying no more respect to delicacy than Æsops’s cock to his diamond. If you would succeed, Sir Bilberry, you must descend to be perfectly reconciled to their oddities.

_Sir B._ I will be reconciled. Well, honest cobbler.--Do you love money?