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The Scum uppermost when the Middlesex Porridge-Pot Boils Over!

An heroic election ballad with explanatory notes. Accompanied with an admonitory nod to a blind horse [by George Huddesford]
 

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THE SCUM UPPERMOST WHEN THE MIDDLESEX PORRIDGE-POT BOILS OVER!!

I

Brother jail-birds, and whores-birds, and knights of the pad,
A strain you shall hear that will make your hearts glad.—
Sell, knights of romances,
For broom-sticks your lances;
You're fools to the Quixotte of Brentford, Sir Francis!
Our incomp'rable Baronet gains his Election,
And he'll down with jail, gibbet, and House of Correction.

6

II

Rare times are approaching: our noble vocation
Never yet has been held in such high estimation:
His coach let us draw,
For he cares not a straw
More than we do for old Father Antick, the Law ;
But assures all our gangs of his special protection:
Then a fig for jail, gibbet, and House of Correction!

III

Blind Fiddlers, strike up!—lo, our hero appears;
The champion of culprits and bold mutineers:
See his brave aides-de-camp
Round their general throng ;
“Bastile and Oppression” the theme of their song!
Of Jacobin worthies a choicer selection
Jail or gibbet ne'er boasted, or House of Correction.

7

IV

Bring, Butchers, your cleavers, and marrowbones too;
And set up for banners your aprons so blue !
B---d*tt carries the day!
“Ca Ira!—” that's to say
“We'll out-do the French Jacobins in their own way:”
Though we've felt for their clan an extreme predilection,
Since they raz'd to the ground their own House of Correction.

8

V

Come, Tinkers! come, Tailors ! our champion environ,
For Sir Francis's Geese leave your own geese of iron:
Come, B---d and Th---t,
With heads hard as granite;
Peter M---e too, from India, that wandering planet;
Though at Coventry foiled with contempt and rejection,
Come and shoot your fools' bolt at our House of Correction !

9

VI

Come Delegate F--- ! for sure no tergiversers
Know better the fire of sedition to stir, Sirs;
Now for Fox—late for Hood,
A committee-man good
As e'er round his neck wore a cravat of wood:—
Irish W--- , at the Nore, who turn'd tail on detection,
Stole a march on jail, gibbet, and House of Correction.

10

VII

Then we've D---n, and B---y, and wine-merchant B--- :
Some scribblers besides who our catalogue swell
Green F---y leads;
Next D---n succeeds,
Who writes all our good things that nobody reads;
Had he readers, I'll warrant they'd wish, on inspection,
Both the writer and sheets at the House of Correction!

11

VIII

Charles Fox shall engage in our quarrel as hearty
As in that of his tutelar saint, Bonaparte;
Who, when his own store,
And twice as much more
Of his cronies he'd spent, grew so wretchedly poor,
That our Whigs for the prodigal made a collection—
So he scaped jail, and gibbet, and House of Correction.

IX

If a good cause like ours a learn'd Advocate needs,
We've a Counsel who sings full as well as he pleads :
And a right noble drone,
My Lord William, well known
For a dupe in our int'rest, a fool in his own:
Give us tools, gulls, and Things of his Lordship's complexion,
We'll demolish jail, gibbet, and House of Correction.

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X

By General Burdett led on, and his staff,
Down, my lads, with controul, at authority laugh!
Remonstrance deride all!
Sir Francis, our idol,
Shall ride all your magistrates with a Curb-Bridle .
Rant and riot, exempt from the Law's retrospection,
When you've pulled down jail, gibbet, and House of Correction.

XI

“Ho! ho!”—cries the Devil, “come bring me my boots!
“Here's a kettle of fish that my appetite suits.
“To Brentford an airing
“I'll take—'tis past bearing
“That my friends should be fetter'd by Justice Mainwaring:
“But young B---tt I like, we'll form a connection
“To abolish jail, gibbet, and House of Correction.

13

XII

“Fellow fiends, be so good as to put up your pray'rs,
“That success may attend on our firm above stairs!
“Let your zeal be now shown,
“Or they'll sure be o'erthrown
“Who belong to a House near as old as your own.
“Nay, don't turn up your noses!—I mean no reflection;
“An Old House owns their claim: 'tis the House of Correction.”

XIII

(Enter Satan on the Hustings.)
“Frank B---tt for ever!—Poll on;—never flinch!
“See my hoof, boys! You know your old friend at a pinch!
“Do you suffrages lack?
“Only swear white is black;
“And your Mill makes four hundred good votes in a crack!
“Take the oath! honest C--- o'er-rules each objection :
“Who's afraid of jail, gibbet, or House of Correction?

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XIV

“But should perjury wake in some voter a qualm,
John and Sam, my good chaplains, his conscience shall calm.
“Both well known to fame are—
“John's a pithy declaimer;
“Sam swaggers and smokes, but he's rid by a gray mare:
“Trust these Spiritual Guides who've such care for your necks shown ,
“To the Gibbet you'll rise from the House of Correction.

XV

“See we've carried our point. Call Sir Francis's coach!
“Come harness your shoulders—the porter butts broach!
“At free cost you shall dine,
“Ay, and guzzle like swine,
“For Frank pays the piper—his triumph is mine:
“Of wives, children, and work, banish all recollection;
“Drink, and down with jail, gibbet, and House of Correction.

XVI

“Brave B---d*tt, adieu! You've blown up a fine flame;
'Tis so hot, I'll return to the place whence I came,
“And tell my grim Quorum
“With how much decorum
“Your tag-rags of Middlesex drive all before 'em.
“'Twill be long ere my Black-birds attain such perfection,
“What's Hell when compar'd with your Brentford Election!”
 

“That incomparable baronet, Sir Francis B---d*tt.” So re-christened by the Reverend John Horne Tooke at the Crown and Anchor Tavern.

I pry'thee, sweet Wag, shall there be a gallows standing in England when thou art King? and resolution thus fobb'd as it is with the rusty curb of old Father Antick the Law? I Henry IV. Act I. Sc. 2.

Invenies ------
Permistum nautis et furibus et fugitivis
Inter carnifices et fabros sandapilarum.

Juvenal.

Thieves, hangmen, Brentford scullers, Irish raff,
And death-hunters compose our General's Staff.

“Sir Francis's coach was drawn into Brentford by the populace, preceded by twenty Butchers with marrowbones and cleavers.”

—Courier, July 14.

“Sir Francis proceeded in procession with marrowbones and cleavers, four Blue Flags, with “No Bastile” on them.—The Duke of Bedford and Earl Thanet followed.”

—Courier, July 16.

“As soon as Sir F. B. had concluded his address, the bands of music struck up “Ca Ira,”—and the populace drew him amidst triumphant huzzas, and the usual exclamations of “No Bastile,” “No Mainwaring.”

—Courier, July 19.
Si foret in terris rideret Democritus—
Hor. Ep. L. ii. Ep. 1.

The zeal which induced Sir F. B.'s advanced guard of patriotic calf-killers to display their blue aprons, as banners, in this respectable procession, we must allow to have been highly meritorious: their cleavers have already been associated with weapons of heroic temper and description in the lays of our late most estimable Laureat—

“Cleavers and scymitars give blow for blow.”
Prologue written for the Theatre over the Shambles at Winchester, by T. Warton.

N. B. This association may, not improperly, be extended from the weapons to the wielders of them, the generality of heroes being only Butchers incog.

The reader is cautioned against the supposition that this line is to be understood literally, or that any such individual is here alluded to as Count Snip, the political Oracle of the Coach and Horses Ale-house, Leicester-fields, the parties being no other than metaphorical tinkers and tailors, whom Sir F. B. retains to mend and botch up our tattered Constitution.

The following sample will fully justify the high opinion entertained of this gentleman's rhetorical powers:

“He felt the utmost gratitude to Sir F. B. for having stood forward to release the county from the stain and degradation of such a representative as Mr. M. and he trusted the Electors would give him a long pull, a strong pull, and pull all together to obtain an object so desirable.”

—Speech of Peter Moore, Esq. from Brentford Hustings, Courier, July 21, 1802.

While the flowers of oratory bloom so luxuriantly on Middlesex soil, who would waste a thought upon

“Eloquium et famam Demosthenis et Ciceronis?”
Juvenal, Sat. 10.
Demosthenes and Tully quit the field,
Athens and Rome the palm to Brentford yield!

“ Mr. F--- in a former election for Westminster was an active agent for Lord Hood, in opposition to Mr. Fox; but he afterwards changed sides, and now ranks with the Man of the People. This gentleman appeared afterwards at the bar of the Convention in Paris, as an accredited Delegate from one of the disaffected societies in England.”

Considerations on the late Elections for Westminster and Middlesex. Hatchard. 1802.

Few readers will be inclined to dispute Mr. F.'s pretensions to the oscillatory discretion of Butler's fanatical politicians, who, shifting as occasion served, from this to the opposite party,

“Profess the passionat'st concerns
“For both their interests by turns;
“The only way t'improve their own,
“By dealing faithfully with none.”
Hudibras.

This honest gentleman, employed amongst Sir F. B.'s inspectors and check-clerks, took a trip to sea some years ago, at the recommendation of the police Magistrates. He was on board the Grand Fleet at the Nore; and, finding things went badly with his associates, he turned King's evidence, swearing that he was only a traitor on compulsion.

P. W. D---n, an United Irishman of no small celebrity, sentenced, in 1793, to two years imprisonment in the New Compter, for an attempt to escape from the Fleet and posting up a bill calling it “an infamous Bastile,” &c.

Mr. H. B---, the intimate friend of O'Connor, an Irish wine merchant.

Mr. B---y,

“------ bred to dash and draw
Not wine, but more unwholesome law.”
Hudibras.

Mr. Frost's successor, when that gentleman had been struck off the list of attorneys. Sir Francis's solicitor.

See New Annual Register for 1772, page 37; and 1793, p. 6, of the Principal Occurrences.

Green F---y, the assistant of A. O'Connor, who was the sworn proprietor and publisher of an infamous paper called “The Press;” pointing out the late Lord Clare and the most respectable of his countrymen as objects of popular vengeance.—This gentleman appeared constantly arm in arm with Sir F. B. and was dressed in green even to his stockings. A writer for the newspapers.

Mr. T. D---n, author of many unread works, particularly “The Dramatic Censor,” till his bookseller, tired of a losing game, would publish it no longer. He was formerly in orders, and has lately joined the party in Paris.

“Ingenium velox, audacia perdita, sermo
“Promptus et Isæo torrentior.”

Juv. iii. 73.

For a most satisfactory sample of the lyrical merit and talent of this learned Counsel, the reader may consult the authentic record of the proceedings at the Shakespeare Tavern on the 10th of October 1800, published for S. Jordan, Fleet-street.

Extract from Sir F. B.'s Speech.—“There is one thing which it is fit that I should throw out for the consideration of the gentlemen at large of the county: I mean the degrading and degraded state to which this country is reduced, and the ignominy which it suffers from the unlimited assumption of power and authority by the county Magistrates. Gentlemen will consider the best means of bringing within bounds this Unbridled Magistracy, whom a nine years exercise of powers inconsistent with the law, and irreconcileable with the safety of the subject, has habituated to think themselves beyond the reach of controul or correction.”

For a correct statement of the ground on which near four hundred of Sir F. B---tt's voters rested their pretensions, viz. their having severally purchased shares (at two guineas each) in a corn-mill, the building of which was not completed, nor any benefit received from it, on the 30th of July 1802. See Considerations on the Westminster and Middlesex Elections. Hatchard.

“I tell them (the Millers) as a Barrister, that they have a legal freehold, and have a right to vote. I advise them to take the oath—I would take it in their situation.” —Speech of Sir F. Burdett's Counsel, Courier, July 28, 1802.

How far it may be decorous for a reverend pastor to attend his flock on their rout to the goal, or mark of their high calling, towards which he has cordially encouraged them to press forward, is a point yet unsettled: on a former occasion indeed it was not deemed expedient for their spiritual escort to accompany them further than the ten miles' stone at Hounslow.