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WELLINGTON'S TRIUMPH, AND PORTUGAL

THE

RELIEVED.

BY WILLIAM THOMAS FITZGERALD, ESQ,

[From the same.]

HE blow is struck! the awful conflict 's o'er,
And shouts of triumph reach Britannia's shore !
The baffled Chief of France, in wild dismay,
Resigns the honours of his former day,

And, with his legions, is by Wellesley driven,
As clouds of locusts by the winds of heaven !
Unlike the warriors of a nobler age,

His flight is mark'd with more than Vandal rage!
By peasants murder'd! and by towns in flame!
Their ashes records of Massena's shame!
The smoking ruins are descried from far,
With all the horrors of his savage war :
The mountain streams run red with native blood,
And mangled bodies choke each river's flood!
While Lusitania's ravag'd plains declare
The flying Gaul has left a desert there!
Long shall the crimes of France in mem'ry stand,
Recorded with the curse of every land;
But Britain's triumphs, like her honour pure,
Shall to the utmost date of time endure!
Loud as the thunder let the cannon's sound
Proclaim the tidings to the realms around;
Nations, enslav'd by Gaul's oppressive power,
Shall shake their chains with joy, and bless the hour:
The very wretches, who in silence wait

The Despot's nod, and tremble while they hate,
Shall feel some pleasure warm the torpid breast,
To see their Tyrant in his turn oppress'd;
To mark his pallid cheek, his hagard eye,
His stifled anguish, and his bitter sigh!
In the bright temple of immortal Fame
Glory inscribes her favourite Wellesley's name!
Amidst the high-plum'd champions of the land,
In future ages Wellington shall stand;

VOL. XV.

I

There

There too triumphant Graham shall appear,
Wielding aloft the mighty British spear;
And at their feet the shatter'd flags of France,
Her captive Eagles, and her broken lance!
Thus shall Britannia's Monarch ever be
Renown'd on ev'ry shore, and lord of ev'ry sea!
April 9, 1911.

SCARCITY OF SILVER.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING CHRONICLE.

SIR,

[April 11.]

THE want of change, not merely in the metropolis,

but throughout the kingdom, has created such alarming inconvenience, that it has become necessary to adopt some means to remedy it. It has been suggested, that the Bank should issue five-and-twenty shilling, thirty shilling, and thirty-five shilling notes. This would diminish, but by no means remedy, the inconvenience. It is sincerely to be hoped another scheme, said to be in contemplation, will never be realized I allude to the projected plan of an issue of ten shilling and five shilling notes. This would be the consummation of the papier machée system, and would form a base for the statue of that great man, now no more, who so strenuously in 1797 advocated the freedom of the (Bank of England) press.

Notwithstanding all that has been said and written to the contrary, the Bank paper is most certainly depreciated. Under these circumstances metallic money must disappear from circulation: some will hoard it in their closets, in the hope a still greater nominal value will be put upon it; others will melt it in their crucibles; others will sell it at an enormous premium for exportation. Those who have recently left England for the Continent will not forget how unconscionably the Jews at Portsmouth and Plymouth charged them

for

SCARCITY OF SILVER.

171

for dollars. In these different ways the whole circulating metallic medium will in a few months be withdrawn from circulation, to the ruin of many, and the very great inconvenience of all.

The same mischief, springing from the same cause, existed in Ireland. The great man, now no more, waved his paper wand over the Bank of Ireland, and the phantom of Over-issue immediately made its appearance. All the mint-money first was withdrawn: to remedy this deficiency, all the bad halfpence, which for years had been deposited as condemned raps in the garrets of the shopkeepers, were brought down stairs, made into rouleaus, and thus circulated. This, however, could not last long; and several barrels of Birmingham shillings were imported, which answered the purpose tolerably well for three weeks, till the gilding was worn off; they then rested in the pockets of those who had imprudently taken them as value. The people then began to grumble, as the English people are grumbling now, and exclaimed, that, as the over-issue and consequent depreciation of the Bank-paper was the cause of the evil, it was absolutely incumbent on the Bank to apply some remedy. The Irish Bank did, as I trust the Bank of England will now do, take the case of the public into their serious consideration; and, after some speeches, about as eloquent as Mr. Randle Jackson's, and some pamphlets, about as clear as Mr. Wilson's, they bought up the Birmingham shillings which had lost their gilding, melted the mass, and recoined and reissued it in the form of two-and-sixpenny, ten-penny, and five-penny pieces, bearing the impress of the Bank, with a promise of its being always exchangeable at their counter for paper. To something like this expedient the Bank of England must have resort; they must harmonize their system-as they have given an ideal value to their paper, by stamping certain cha

racters upon it, they must give an ideal value to the pieces of money denominated crowns, half-crowns, and shillings, by which its currency is effectuated, through the medium of a coin under their sanction, and exchangeable for their paper, so base that all temptation to melt it will be removed, and so peculi arly bad, that it can be only circulated throughout the country and the metropolis. This is the only rational hope of cure under the circumstances-and if deem the plan of consequence enough to obtain a place in your columns, you shall have further details on the subject from your humble servant,

TIMOTHY TINKER.

AT

EPIGRAM.

[From the British Press, April 11.]

Ta damsel, whose manners were formal and cold,
My satirical friend oft would banter and scold;

And when to a Rose the sweet maid I compar'd,

"Then, by G-, she's a Prim Rose," the railer declar'd.

TEUTHA,

AN AFFECTING EPISTLE,

FROM FADYEEN, IN LONDON, TO HIS FATHER PAT, IN DUBLIN, ON THE PRESENT STATE OF PUBLIC AFFAIRS.

[From the Morning Herald, April 13.]

"Honi soit qui mal y pense."

IT's a letter you'd have now, is that what

you'd

say

?

Well, I'll write you a true one, but in my own way: You would know 'bout the Prince; no one dare touch a

hair of him;

Bad luck to Hygeia if she don't take care of him.
His Highness hath had a magnificent levee,
When placemen and flatterers flew in a bevy,
Like plovers in Munster: the Outs and the Ins

Scamper'd up stairs in groups, and kick'd each other's shins;

Then

AN AFFECTING EPISTLE.

173

Then they bow'd to the earth, and so low, 't was surprising,
Just as Persians will worship the Sun when it's rising.
Then some slaver'd his hand, with deceit in their eyes;
But show me the honey, I'll show you the flies!
Now the morn of that day was at first overcast,
But the rains were put off till the cavalcade past.
Common Councilmen met t' other day in the city,
To sustain the true Prince, when some arguments witty
Were rais'd and enforc'd both by W-
-n and Q-n,
Who rose up to knock down political sin
One's an Irishman, daddy, and gave them some noise for it,
He broach'd Latin by quarts, but you know we're the boys
for it;

Though their foes would admit their irrefutability,

Yet they prated from spite as boys spit in hostility;
There were two Master D- -ns, who kept famous shops,
They are both sleek and comely, though fatten'd on slops,
Who thought the Prince fitted by nature to lead 'em,
Yet they thought some restrictions would further his freedom:
But all parties agreed that his heart's big as any,
And to save poor Britannia he 'd spend his last penny.
One affirm'd (but 't was envy) that Tartlet was like
The man who would wound, but was fearful to strike;
For he said, then he qualified, frown'd, and grew hot,
And now he would grant it, and now he-would not;
Till the dealer in dowlas blaz'd forth like the sun,
Then the mist was dispell'd, and the Sophist was done,
While Gog and Magog, with a true civic fire,

Drank "The Prince and Great Britain" in Whitbread's entire. When they'd made the Address, and had cramm'd it with point,

Full as plums in a pudding, they sat to appoint

How the Corporate Body should move to Pall Mall
In a manner becoming themselves; when it fell
To the lot of the Mayor to be jogging on first,
And the Aldermen follow'd, as Aldermen must;
Clubbing testers apiece, t'elude credit's reproach,
Common Councilmen went, seven deep, in a coach;
With ideas, or beef, in each ponderous nob,
A most brilliant, delectable, mazarine mob!