The Triumph of Reform! A Comic Poem, By W. T. Moncrieff. Dedicated to the King. Illustrated with Six Plates by R. Seymour |
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THE TRIUMPH OF REFORM!
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 | The Triumph of Reform! |  |
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THE TRIUMPH OF REFORM!
A COMIC POEM.
1
John Bull an honest Country 'Squire,Liv'd on his own Estate;
Contented by his homely fire,
Nor seeking to be great.
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He lov'd his King—upheld his Church—Paid deference to his Laws;
Nor e'er was known a friend to lurch,
Who had a righteous cause!
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3
As for his Wife, dear as his life,John priz'd his Heart's elected!
His Children prov'd how well he lov'd,
That she was ne'er neglected!
4
John had a numerous Family,Few could with his compare;
His Daughters they were fair to see,
And pure as they were fair!
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His Sons, a bold and manly race,Were fam'd for arts and arms;—
Alike, skill'd in the plough—the chase,—
Or battle's stern alarms!
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John paid his way, he till'd, to payThe land on which he liv'd;
Rose with the lark, work'd hard all day,
And health with wealth receiv'd!
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He lov'd good cheer, ador'd Roast-Beef,And often had a feast;
Could with Plum-Pudding charm each grief,
And joy'd to see a guest.
8
Bless'd with a glorious Constitution,No wonder he was stout;
Good fare, he said, gave resolution,
Roast-Beef kept weakness out!
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A generous Landlord, he reliev'dEach Tenant in disaster;
His servants he ne'er idly griev'd,—
He was a kind good master.
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He had a Lease of his Estate,For John for squalls provides:
A Charter that was truly Great;
His ‘Rights’ secur'd besides!
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Thus long John Bull had liv'd in peaceAnd comfort, on his labours;
Seeing his joys and stores encrease,
And valued by his Neighbours.
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But, ah! he now and then would fight,And with those Neighbours quarrel;
For he'd in strong beer great delight,
And often tapp'd the barrel!
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Then, too, his stomach was so great,He would to no one humble!
It pleas'd him of his rights to prate,
And at his wrongs to grumble!
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In short, John Bull, the truth to say,Was somewhat of a Bruin,
And to his fondness, for a fray
It was, he owed his ruin!
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For though his courage, strength and might!Still made him conqueror, yet
As he'd to pay for every fight,
It run him soon in Debt!
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And money he was forced to borrow,Large Interest he'd to pay;—
Paving the way for future sorrow,
A dreadful settling day!
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Which brings me to this “ow're true tale,”Of facts it is, I write!
John plung'd in Debt, head over tail,
Through this his love for fight.
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Then he in Law had many suits,One “Yankey versus Bull,”
He lost, and such its heavy fruits,
It made his courage cool!
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He won the other, “Bull 'gainst French,”But 'twas so long about,
And gave his pockets such a drench,
It fairly cleaned him out;—
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Took all his cash, made him draw bills,And only pay in paper,—
In short brought on a thousand ills,
And left small cause for vapour!
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'Twas 'bout a dish they both had dress'd,They fought like dog and cat!
For French, the Boney-part possessed,
And wanted John Bull's fat!
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So high John's rents this made him raise,The interest to defray;
His Tenants on their settling days,
Found they could scarcely pay.
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23
But this, alas! was not the worst,—Involved, perplexed, John Bull,
Forc'd to his Servants now to trust,
Became their prey—their tool!
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On private gain alone intent,To pilfer was their plan;
To conscience they a deaf ear lent,
The reign of waste began!
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In John's Great House,—through thick and thin,Resolv'd to keep their places,—
They brought their own relations in,
And bought new ribbons—laces!
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The Agencies, upon the farm,To rogues and knaves they sold;
The better to prevent Reform—
Nor let the truth be told.
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The list of John Bull's pensioned poor,—Whose strength, by age decreas'd,
He paid for, from his private store,—
Most foully they encreas'd!
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Fix'd in it many a shameless dame,The stocks had better grac'd;
And many a dolt, known but by name,
They in its columns plac'd.
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Corruption soon bore general sway,And Bribery, oh, shame!
“Notorious, as” is “at noon day,
The sun itself” became!
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In vain the tenants, their complaintsTo John's Great House convey'd;
John's Servants seem'd to him such Saints,
No heed to ought he paid!
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Petitions Meetings, were in vain,Corruptions course to stem;
Poor John Bull's Tenants could not gain,
One soul to speak for them!
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The force of bad example then,John's family too, proved!
His Sons set up for gentlemen,
And drank, and gamed, and roved.
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Frequented Operas, Balls, and Plays!In work took no delight;—
Like Dandies dress'd themselves in stays,
And smok'd cigars all night!
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The Daughters too, forsook their cows!To play on the piano!
At farmers' sons turn'd up their nose,
And flaunted o'er the manor.
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Lisp'd forth bad French, and squall'd Sol faDress'd all in silks and satins;
Began to call their father “Pa,”
And burnt their mother's pattens!—
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The waste grew greater every hour,Hoodwink'd were John Bull's eyes:
Distress, on all, its withering power
Began to exercise!
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Despair alone the tenants saw!—With lives and goods they sported;
They burnt John's ricks, he took the law,
And some of them transported!
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But to John's Servants, now awhile,The muse, per-force, digresses;—
They look'd on with a heartless smile,
Though causing these distresses!
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'Tis fit, we give their names and state,Though shown now of their glory!
Their history we must relate,
To verify our story.
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John's steward, Arthur, in John's Fights,His second oft had been,
And had of old upheld his rights,
For he'd much service seen!
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He was a bold and skilful man,And Generalship possess'd:
But all to grasp, was still his plan,
Acquirement fir'd his breast!
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He said, John must despotic rule,His Tenants to keep under;
Should beat them all, like boys at school,
And speak in voice of thunder!
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43
That they had nought to do but pay,That John their minds must fetter;
Nor heed aught they might choose to say,
For things could not ‘work’ better!
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That though about distress, a fussWas made, still the estate,
Had never been more prosperous,
Nor John Bull half so great!
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He clearly the Old Soldier played,The more to cousin John:
And yet he was an active blade,
And better might have done!
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The Irish labourers he free'd,That came for John to toil;
And gave them leave their rights to plead,
And have their share of spoil!
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John's Housekeeper, who bore a bob,In all that Arthur did,
Was one, who would do any job,
His fellow-servant bid!
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His name was Robert, perquisitesHe dearly lov'd to share!
The candle ends were his delights,
The cheese be joy'd to pare!
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But we the truth must not conceal,The rotter cheer'd his heart,
And what he said was but the Peel,
Was oft the greater part!
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He said John Bull a hundred rats,About the House might see,
But t'was well known, a dozen cats
Could not catch rats like he!
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Himself, he 'gainst the tenants match'd,That John they might not fleece,
And that the farm might be well watch'd
He raised a New Police!
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Bob was an useful man enoughAbout a House to be;
Of talk he'd always quantum suff.,
If he'd had honesty!
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Both he and Arthur had agreed,Their master's ‘loaves and fishes’
Were for no other end decreed,
But to fill up their dishes!
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And that they might not be turn'd out,(The Tenants wishes granting,)
They soon convinc'd John, past all doubt,
That no Reform was wanting!
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But spite of all that they could say,John was not quite contented;
He soon began to fall away,
And his decline lamented!
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His appetite began to fail,That he thought everlasting;
And so much did his spirits quail,
He talk'd one day of Fasting!
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His dinner's joys gave no delight,He sat with folded arms;
Roast-Beef itself fail'd to invite,
Plum-Pudding had no charms!
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While Mr. Bull was thus perplex'd,His Neighbours, in their turn,
Had, with their tenants, been as vex'd,—
At power they'd dar'd to spurn!
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The Tenants of his neighbour, French,Were knocking old things down!—
And had, to shew they would retrench,
Reduc'd their rents, a crown.
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They swore their rights they'd have protected,Their lease should be observ'd;
So a new landlord they elected,
One Philip! well who'd serv'd!
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Then Nicholas who keeps Wild Beasts,Felt rather sore, 'tis droll!
Because his Bears, despite some priests,
Were stirr'd-up by a Pole.
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And Mr. Belge having had too muchOf Hollands, when they'd settle,
Had with his landlord too a touch,
For offering him Dutch metal!
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And even some Italian boys,Who liv'd on maccaroni,
'Gainst cousin Germans made a noise,
And spurn'd the name of crony
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This rous'd the Tenants of John Bull,Corruption's hold to storm,
They vow'd they'd altogether pull,
And die or have Reform!
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Declared they would have proper men,Their fights to represent,
His servants' roguery to condemn,
And tell John what they meant.
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'Twas well for Bull he had a friend,To check the coming riot;
One who would mutual rights defend,
And treachery disquiet!
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67
Young Russell, of a noble race,The noblest son of all!
Who in his line could patriots trace,
Had dar'd for John to fall!
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He sought the ‘Squire,’ and cried “Arouse”Look, Sir, to your estate,
Amend th' abuses of your house,
Ere yet it be too late!
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“Your Servants grossly, Sir, deceive,Arthur his duty slights;
Your faithful Tenants, Sir, believe,—
Grant them, John Bull, their rights.
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“Too long they've begg'd and pray'd, in vain,Have pin'd in misery,
John Bull must be John Bull again,
Or he will cease to be!
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“Yes they must Represented be,There must be a Reform;
Or soon to hold you, Sir, you'll see
The house will be too warm!
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“You 'n your duty must not fail,Your rents you must reduce,
Your pension list you must curtail,
Or, 'twill be little use!
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“You've Agents, Sir, for empty barns,Stone walls—a barren plain—
But mind it is a friend that warns,
You must cut short their reign!
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“A numerous family there are,The Boroughs'—men! no doubt,
You know, they're known, Sir, near and far,
Root the food 'mongers out!
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“They are a rank and rotten set,A vile corrupted race,
And only in your house, John, get,
To gain themselves a place!
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“They have not, Sir, your Tenants' voice,They're neither sound nor staunch;
They are not, Sir, your Tenants' choice,
Out with them root and branch!
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“Let those who pay, fit members choose,To watch their rights at home;
For think, if you their aid should lose,
What would of you become!
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“Turn out the drones, the locusts, knaves,That now your house deform!
The traitors, sycophants, the slaves,
Effect one grand Reform!
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“But this, from ruin can protect!Believe my words are true!
Should you my warnings, John, neglect,
Till latest years you'll rue!
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“Our dear Chief Magistrate, God bless him!Long may he live and reign,
May care and roguish ne'er distress him,
Will help you, might and main!
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“About it! not a moment lose,But with your tenants pull!
Reform or ruin—you must choose,
Awake! arouse! John Bull!”
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“Hey what!” cried John, “can this be true?It must you'd not deceive!
No, Russell! I may trust to you,
You're one I can believe.
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83
“How have I been impos'd upon,Been gull'd, but it is o'er;
I have indeed been, ‘easy John,’
But I'll be so no more!
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“Arthur shall to the right about—Bob's house too, soon I'll storm:
Yes, one and all, they shall turn out,
By Jove! I'll have Reform!
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“They've robb'd me, plung'd me into debt,My interest they have slighted,
But a new household I will get,
My Tenants shall be righted!
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“‘New Brooms sweep clean?’ give me my Wig,The House I'll clear at once;
Again my porter I will swig
In joy, or I'm a dunce!
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87
“There's a Grey-headed worthy man,That shall my Steward be;
He, of Reform has drawn a plan,
He long ago show'd me!
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“In March that plan you shall bring forth,Its march shall then begin,
When once my tenants know its worth,
Their hearts and souls you'll win!
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“The Boroughs, venal set, may rail,The turn'd out crew may swear;
But bid them, it their hearts will quail,
The ‘Ides of March, beware!’
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“Come, to the House we'll go direct,The plan you shall propose;
Reform! for ever, we'll effect,
The rogues accounts we'll close!”
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91
They went, young Russell broach'd his plan,Show'd what John wish'd Reform'd;
'Twas then the war of words began,
Lord, how Bob rav'd and storm'd!
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The Boroughmen, with one acclaim,Their voices 'gainst it rais'd:
Heap'd curses on its very name,
And all corruption prais'd!
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“Would you o'er-turn,” they cried, “by storm,Each Ancient Institution?
We tell you what you call Reform,
Is down-right Revolution!
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“It will not do—it must not be,You'll ruin the whole Nation!
Preserve the system's purity,
We want no Innovation!”
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A Pretty Lawyer without cause,The plan most strangely Twiss-ted;
Abused Shopkeepers and the laws,
And on no change insisted!
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One old Knave, swore he'd Weather-all,And at the project jested,
Cut jokes upon th' expected fall,
And, that 'twas wrong protested!
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John's Hunt's-man who, Reform to aid,Prest-on, through thick and thin,
Turn'd tail! and soon was seen, 'tis said,
With Bob's own whipper-in!
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But worse, John's Clergyman, whose creedIt was to right each wrong,
That he might still on John Bull feed,
Join'd the opposing throng!
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As for the rest, how did they bawl,They rais'd a horrid rout,
Swore, unâ voce, one and all,
By Jove! they'd not turn out!
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Foil'd in his plans, and set at nought,John did not stay to prate,
Short work he made, at once he sought,
His good Chief Magistrate!
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Who heard his Tenants' tale of woe,And cried, “ah! slaves of pelf—
Give me a Broom, by Jove I'll go
And clear the House myself!”
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He went—when uprose fool and dunceSwore they of life were Lords!
But William cleared the House at once,
Proof to their war of words.
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103
He clos'd the doors, “now John,” said he,“Choose Servants that will serve,
Prove but Reform, you want, to me;
And you'll not find me swerve.”
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John, thankful, to the statute went,New servants to engage;
Servants to do their duty bent,
And shine in history's page.
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But, honest man, how did he stare,And burn in every vein,
To see the old crew waiting there,
To be engaged again.
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Quoth he, “I'm not of sense bereft,You don't again gull me;”
They brib'd—in vain—they all were left,
In the Minority!
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107
New Servants hired—so well their part,They play'd—they guile defied,
In vain the old ones, every art,
To foil John's purpose tried.
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They storm'd—they shifted, senseless fools;Reform they could not foil;
The people vow'd and swore, the tools
Should render up their spoil.
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Now Arthur finding this the case,Mov'd by the love of pelf,
Thought he'd best get again his place,
And give Reform himself.
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So to the Manor House direct,Where liv'd our Magistrate,
(What after this might John expect?)
He went by the back gate.
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111
Urg'd on by one still worse than he,Born but to Cumber-land,
Who hail'd his treachery with glee,
And join'd him heart and hand!
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The Lady of our Magistrate,And all his Family,
Alas! that they should take the bait,
Nor their sad folly see—
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They first won over to their cause,No doubt by lies enough,
Got to then talk about the Laws,
And rioting and stuff—
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To the good-natured easy wightWho dearly lov'd his wife!
And lectur'd him so, day and night,
He grew quite tired of life.
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115
They plainly told him, honest man,If he at peace would be,
To his Grey-headed servant's plan,
That he must not agree.
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And thus, alas! in evil hour,So poisoned was his ear,
He faltered—and when ask'd,—his power,
He did not make a-peer!
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His servants left him—John Bull staredBut on reform still bent;
Shrunk not, but, till 'twas pass'd, declar'd
That he would pay no rent!
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This startled William! soon he sawThat no time should be lost;—
If he refus'd John Bull his Law,
That it a crown might cost!
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119
At once he to his senses came,Children and wife defied,
Gain'd back again his own good name,
Again became John's pride!
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John, back'd by him, 'gainst Arthur's throng,Now firmly kept the field!
Those who had Lorded it so long,
Were forc'd despite, to yield.
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In every point the faction fail'd,That reason's rights withstood;
Reform triumphantly prevail'd,
Prelude to worlds of good!
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John's Tenants hail'd it, bidding ceaseEach ill that can annoy;
Sure harbinger of Plenty, Peace,
Prosperity, and Joy!
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123
Be ever fam'd the noble band,This blessing that obtained;
By whose proud deeds a suffering land,
Redress at length has gain'd.
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Bright shine their names in history's roll,From age to age renowned;
Their influence felt from Pole to Pole,
With endless praises crowned!
| The Triumph of Reform! | |