CHAPTER XVII.
Protests against lotteries--Epitaph on Vansittart--“Three Royal Weddings”--More opposition to the lottery --“Twelfth Night Character” handbills--Ditto of tradesmen.
On June 3, 1818, was passed the Lottery Act (58 Geo. III. c. 71) when £606,200 were given as prizes; net profit thereon, £212,551 16_s._ 8_d._ But legislators were getting disgusted at the immorality of the lottery, and during the passage of this Bill, Mr. Parnell protested against great questions of justice and morality being sacrificed to expediency, and, in the course of his speech, made the suggestion that the following humorous epitaph should be inscribed on the tomb of the Chancellor of the Exchequer:--
“Here lies the Right Hon. Nicholas Vansittart, once Chancellor of the Exchequer; the patron of Bible Societies, the builder of Churches, a friend to the education of the poor, an encourager of Savings Banks, and--a supporter of Lotteries!”
Bish took advantage of every public event to force himself into notoriety, but why he should only record _three_ Royal marriages in 1811, when there were _four_, I cannot tell, April 7, Princess Elizabeth to Prince of Hesse Homburg; June 1, Duke and Duchess of Cambridge were re-married according to the rites of the Church of England; and on July 13, the Duke of Kent married Princess Victoria of Saxe-Coburg, mother of our Queen; and the Duke of Clarence, afterwards William IV., married Princess Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen.
“3 ROYAL WEDDINGS
and
3 £30,000 PRIZES.
O, did you hear What glorious cheer There’s for the land providing, O! O, there’s to be Such Jubilee And many a merry _briding_, O! _Three Royal Weddings_ there will be, To meet the Nation’s wishes, O! And _Prizes, Thirty Thousands, Three_, And these you’ll meet at BISH’S, O!
’Tis loudly said, With Danish maid, Bold _Clarence_ will be billing, O!
For better, for worse, _They’ll_ find a _Purse_, And Purses, they want filling, O! The way to fill it, found have I, To meet the Nation’s wishes, O! A _Thirty Thousand Pound Prize_, buy, And that they’ll buy at BISH’S, O!
Then _Cambridge_, he From _Germany_, Across Old Neptune’s gutter, O! A maid will wed, Then for their bread, They’ll want some _Cambridge butter_, O! And I know where there is a _churn_ Will make it to their wishes, O! For _Thirty Thousand Pounds_ 'twill turn, And may be bought at BISH’S, O!
The fair _Princess_, A Prince of _Hesse_, Has chosen for her hubby, O! And _John Bull_ ne’er To _please the fair_, Is ungallant, or scrubby, O! He’ll volunteer them _fair supplies_, And _John_, to meet your wishes, O! Another _Thirty Thousand Prize_ You now may buy at BISH’S, O!
'Tween you and I, They mean to buy, And, if all three, they get ’em, O!
For you and me Now left will be, So take care you don’t let ’em, O! But make _first_ choice, in luck you’ll be, _Two_ leaving for their wishes, O! You’ll get _One_ Thirty, out of _Three_, That’s if you buy at BISH’S, O!”
There are very few more lotteries left to chronicle; that of 1819 (59 Geo. III. c. 65) was passed on July 2. £681,758 11_s._ 6_d._ in prizes, £213,324 15_s._ 2_d._ net profit; and the following resolutions were moved in the House of Commons by Mr. Lyttleton:--
“1. That by the establishment of State lotteries, a spirit of gambling, injurious, in the highest degree, to the morals of the people, is encouraged and provoked.
“2. That such a habit, manifestly weakening the habits of industry, must diminish the permanent sources of the public revenue.
“3. That the said lotteries have given rise to other systems of gambling, which have been but partially repressed by laws, whose provisions are extremely arbitrary, and their enforcement liable to the greatest abuse.
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A MILITARY ANECDOTE.
It was customary with Marshal Basompiere, when any of his soldiers were brought before him for heinous offences, to say to them--“Brother, _you_ or _I_ will certainly be hanged”--which was a sufficient denunciation of their fate. A spy, who was discovered in his camp was addressed in this language; and next day, as the wretch was about to be led to the gallows, he pressed earnestly to speak with the marshal, alleging that he had somewhat of importance to communicate. The marshal being made acquainted with his request, said, in his rough manner--“It is always the way of these rascals; they pretend some frivolous story, merely to reprieve themselves for a few moments; however, bring the dog hither.” Being introduced, the marshal asked him what he had to say--“Why, my lord,” said the culprit, “when first I had the honour of your conversation, you were pleased to say that either you or I should be hanged; now I am come to know whether it is your pleasure to be so, because, if _you_ won’t, _I_ must; that’s all.” The marshal was so pleased with the fellow’s humour, that he ordered him to be released.
I have told you this for your amusement; now let me impart something which may prove to your advantage. The new State Lottery, which will soon be drawn _in One Day_, contains Forty Capital Prizes, amounting with smaller ones, to the immense sum of £200,000, besides Four Extra Prizes of Tickets, with all the Prizes they may contain, by which plan One Ticket may produce the good round sum of £100,000!!! The great advantages of the Scheme are unparalleled--Tickets will (from the very great demand at all the offices) most likely be raised in price--therefore you should not be tardy in availing yourself of an opportunity of realising a _princely fortune_, by purchasing either a Ticket or Share; and should it prove fortunate, you will, I hope, remember the story of Marshal Basompiere.
James Whiting, Printer, Finsbury Place, London.
“4. That this House, therefore, will no longer authorize the establishment of State lotteries under any system of regulations whatever.”
The Chancellor of the Exchequer saw no reason for abandoning so lucrative a branch of the revenue without having some equivalent held out, by which the public would derive an equal benefit. He thought it unfair to attribute the principle of gambling to the lottery, and stated that arguments might be readily adduced to prove that the spirit of gambling existed independently of the State lottery. It must be confessed, however, that, in the course of the debate, very forcible arguments were adduced in favour of the discontinuance of State lotteries; and, although the resolutions of Mr. Lyttleton were negatived by a considerable majority, it was clear that the death-knell of the lottery had sounded, and that its hours were numbered.
Some of the lottery handbills are very difficult to place, owing to their giving no date of the year; and this is the case with the following, which were a set of “Twelfth Night Characters” taken from popular plays.
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FARMER ACRES.
_Farmer Acres_, he stupidly stares, And laughs without wherefore or why; He’s one of the rudest of bears, And filthy as hogs in a sty. But still he a merit attain’d, Which with some hides whatever is base, _A Prize_ of Ten Thousand he gain’d, And that you know alters the case.
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SIR GABY GUTTLE.
Sir _Gaby Guttle_, you’re a beast, To stuff the turtle so; You’ll one day rue each pois’nous feast From head to aching toe. Bless me, your very eye-balls glare; In _Lott’ry_ chances you had better share, Than waste your money on such gouty fare.
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MOTHER GOOSE.
Though ’twixt my hooked nose and chin I scarce can get my dinner in; Though deaf, half-blind, decrepid, bald, And simple _Mother Goose_ am call’d; Yet wit and worth refin’d, if poor, Get but half the notice I procure. And why?--I’m rich. My _Goose_, to me, Is worth a rich _State Lottery_.
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SAM SWIG.
_Sam Swig_, he drinks such a deal, That his face is like Sylla’s, the Roman, ’Tis mulberry pepper’d with meal, To water he is a sworn foe man. T’afford so much money to spend, Though only a jockey’s his trade, He purchas’d _a Share_ with a friend-- In a twinkling his fortune was made.
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LADY BETTY MODISH.
At every rout I must be seen, Clad in dresses fine and thin. Never happy--always gay, Run in debt--nor hope to pay; Had a husband--forc’d to part, Broke his fortune--and his heart. Laugh at trifles such as these, Fashion should be quite at ease; But if the Lott’ry don’t befriend me, In spite of all--a jail will end me.
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COWSLIP.
Mr. Lingo of old musty poets may speak, And endeavour his learning to prove; But, I think, ere he makes me an adept in Greek, I shall teach him the language of love. And if in next Lott’ry he gets a good prize, I’ll speak to some tune with a pair of black eyes.
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QUEEN DOLLALOLLA.
Give me, rogues, a glass of gin, And put a little bitters in, And give a glass to Mr. Noodle, To drink a Prize to Mr. Doodle. Where’s my royal husband too? Do prythee call him--Doodle, do. But if directly come he won’t, Then don’t stay for him--Doodle, don’t.
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MISS VIXEN VINEGAR.
Not want of wit, or want of charms, Has kept a husband from my arms; But all the men are grown so greedy, They’ll wed no maid, though fair--if needy. But should I get a Lott’ry Prize, I need not envy Cowslip’s eyes, For I’m in hopes of Mr. Noodle-- But if not him--I’m sure of Doodle.
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JOLLY DICK.
I’m _Jolly Dick_, a happier wight There surely cannot live; My heart, as well as heels, are light;-- So cheerful I, I cheer the night, And pleas’d, I pleasure give. Thus of my happy lot aware, I’ve but one wish--a _Lott’ry Share_.
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LADY MARY MOUSETRAP.
I’m _Lady Mary Mousetrap_, round Where’er I live the mice abound: They even jump upon my lap, And mount my shoulders while I nap The reason’s plain why thus they teaze; ’Tis this--I smell like _haut gaut_ cheese. I’ll purchase _Shares_, get rich, and see, If vermin _then_ will croud round me.
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CALEB QUOTEM.
_Caleb Quotem_ looks wond’rous wise: To hear him some gaze with surprize; But oft he’s pronounc’d a great pest, And then he says--“_Hic niger est_.” His lips he ne’er opens to speak But out flies some Latin or Greek; They’d be better employ’d loud to call Each _Prize_ that is drawn in the hall.
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CAPTAIN BOBADIL.
I’m sure I’m notic’d by the fair, Because where’er I go, they stare; And when I swear what feats I’ve done, How many thro’ the body run, I’m sure the girls are quite delighted, They scream so loud, and look so frighted. But bragging, swearing, and red jacket, Won’t even do for Lady Racket. Tho’ they love soldiers best of all clothes, There must be money in the small-clothes. So I must get a Lott’ry Prize, To be complete in female eyes.
1820 brings us to 1 Geo. IV., and on July 15 an Act (c. 72) was passed, authorizing another State lottery, of £718,606 4_s._ in prizes, which gave a net profit of £199,643 16_s._ Here are two shares in the lottery tickets.
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The Lottery Act of 1821 (1 and 2 Geo. IV. c. 120) was passed on July 11. £600,000 in prizes; profit £184,409 3_s._; and in this year there is almost an _embarras de richesses_ in the illustrated lottery handbills, all of them relating to the drawing which took place on June 14. The following fourteen cuts are very quaint:--
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Here’s glorious news for the 14th of JUNE, I needn’t remind you the day will be soon; In the rich horn of plenty are prizes in store, For those who the favors of Fortune implore.
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Come buy my Cross-buns; but that is all stuff; Perhaps you will say, you’ve had crosses enough; If your crosses and troubles you wish at an end, Buy a Lottery chance, and your fortune may mend.
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Come buy my young lambs for a trifle apiece, And, believe me, they’re clad in a fine _golden fleece_; Here are two, and to keep all your spirits in tune, There are 3000 more on the 14th of June.
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Tho’ a _dab_, I’m not _scaly_--I like a good _plaice_, And I hope that good luck will soon smile in my face; On the 14th of June, when Prizes in _shoals_ Will cheer up the _cockles_ of all sorts of _soles_.
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My _rabbits_, come buy--but a _rare bit_ I see, Which the wealth of the Lottery Wheel may give me If fortune I catch, and I finger the cole, By the powers! I’ll then bid adieu to the pole.
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I hope, very soon, to get rid of my _yoke_, For a prize in the Lottery Wheel I’ve bespoke; And who knows how high in the world I may rise, If Fortune should _butter_ my bread with a Prize?
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For the gay fruits of nature what wish can you feel, When compar’d with the fruits of the Lottery Wheel? My basket of fruit I’d exchange with great glee, If one _golden pippin_ they’d only give me.
_In a country town, Of no little renown, Some good fellows met to debate, As the times look’d so blue, What course to pursue, And how they should mend their estate._
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I’m a Tailor, good Lord, Just escap’d from the board, With the times I am angry and wroth, I’m _cross-grain’d_ to-day, Things go the wrong way, And I can’t _cut my coat to my cloth_.
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I’m a _Baker_, you see, By the shape of my knee, And I’m _crusty_, as well as yourself; In riches some _roll_, But for me, on my soul, I could ne’er get a _crumb_ of the pelf.
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The _shoe_ pinches tight, And affairs are not right, Tho’ I _peg_ morn and night in my _stall_; My _sole_, it quite melts, For we’re off of the _welts_, And I fear I shall soon lose my _awl_.
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I’m a _panes_-taking man, But, do all that I can, No _daylight_ will shine on my cares; The _tables_, I fear, Are turn’d, it is clear, And adversity’s broken all _squares_.
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I’ve _felt_ like yourselves, (For we’re unlucky elves,) The times are _mis-shapen_ and queer; But though, on my _block_, I give many a knock, No hopes for the better appear.
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I’m a sharp little _blade_, And a _Cutler’s_ my trade, But though, like a _razor_, I’m keen, Fate’s _Scissors_, I dread, Will sever my thread Before better times will be seen.
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I’ve a _Motion_, d’ye see, To which you’ll agree, An _escapement_ from care I espy; That you’ll hold up both _hands_, To do Fortune’s commands, And Lottery Chances to buy.
_They agreed, to a man, And for Chances they ran, And you’ll do the same if you’re wise; For the Lottery in June Will soon be in tune, And you may come in for a prize._