CHARTIST POEMS & SONGS
During the Chartist Movement poems and songs were not only used to express the mood and plight of the working poor, they were also used to mark important events. In the case of the National Chartist Hymn Book the songs were more about social justice as opposed to godly praise.
On his release from Warwick Gaol in July 1840, John Collins (the Birmingham Chartist leader) was greeted like a returning hero, and several poems/songs reflect that. More than a century later Karen Smith wrote "The Legacy of John Collins." John Collins was a working class man who cared deeply about the country's starving and distressed working men and women. He and William Lovett were incarcerated for twelve months for libel and sedition, but the truth of it was they were imprisoned by the British Government in an attempt to annihilate the Chartist Movement, of which Collins was a tireless orator. |
John Collins was largely responsible for bringing together the Scottish Radicals and the English Chartists in the struggle for political reform, in particular Universal Suffrage, at a time when the only 1 in 8 people had the right to vote.
SONG IN PRAISE OF COLLINS & LOVETT
The following song was a "specimen of the street melody that prevailed at Birmingham on Saturday last; not as an elegant composition, but as showing the feeling of the people, who soon relieved the ballad-mongers of their stock, and set them agog for a fresh supply." The song sheet was entitled "A new song in praise of Wm Lovett and John Collins, to be sung on the day of their liberation." It was headed with a cap of liberty and the words "May every Radical have a voice in the election of their representatives ....."
A NEW SONG IN PRAISE OF WM LOVETT & JOHN COLLINS
To be sung on the day of their liberation (25 July 1840)
To be sung on the day of their liberation (25 July 1840)
Ye British Reformers with triumph rejoice,
Undaunted and free has proved our own choice, For the people of England say in a voice, Success to Lovett and Collins, For Lovett and Collins, huzza! There's colliers, and miners, and labourers, too Gunmakers, stampers, and casters, a few, All bravely united, courageous and true, Stand firm to Lovett and Collins, For Lovett and Collins, huzza! There's the tailors, shoemakers, and masons, likewise, The plasterers, and bricklayers, strongly do rise, The great mobs of this town are struck with suprise, At the speeches for Lovett and Collins, For Collins and Lovett, huzza! All over Great Britain they're nobly combined, Some great alterations we shortly shall find, They are liberal, generous valiant, and kind, Success to our true British martyrs, For the martyrs of freedom, huzza! |
By the Whigs and the Tories we've long been oppressed,
Crushed down by taxation and drove to distress, Their motto is, "Shall we from slavery rest?" "We will," cries the true British Unions, The Unions of England, huzza! See the shamrock and rose and the thistle unite, Like the true sons of freedom stick up for their right, All the threats they hold forward will never affright The true British sons of the Unions, The Unions of England, huza! There's Stockport and Manchester, Birmingham too, Derby, Leicester, and Nottingham, valiant and true; From the land's end of Rugland and Scotland Their numbers are daily increasing, So Collins and Lovett, huzza! England, Ireland, and Scotland united shall be, Till the bondage and slavery Britons are free, Here's the shamrock, the rose, and the thistle, all three So bravely combined in the Union, The union of freedom, huzza! |
Three cheers for Lovett and Collins then give,
Three groans for the Tories and two for the Whigs; Let every true Briton, as long as they live, Give three cheers for all the Whig victims For Lovett and Collins, huzza! |
POEMS TO COLLINS AND OTHER CHARTISTS
THE PATRIOT MARTYRS
Written, Sept 1839
Written, Sept 1839
VINCENT
Fear not, Vincent, though the gloom of darkest
Tyranny be on thy brow; it cannot quench thy Spirit. No! twill only serve to nurse the lightning Of thy wrath, till on oppression's head it burst with Tenfold fury. They strive, but strive in vain, to check The blessed light of truth - God's legacy to man - By whose resistless power each cruel tyrant Yet shall lick the dust. Already do they tremble: And, amid their blinded zeal, they've dragged thee From thy home, and filled thy aged mother's Heart with bitter grief; but heed them not, the Victory shall be thine! God will not leave |
Thy widow’d mother in her woe without a friend.
No, Vincent! thousands who know the virtues of Thy manly heart, will shield her from the biting Blast of penury. Fear not, then; the tyrants blighting Curse shall fail to desolate the home of those Most dear to thee; for by the sacred name of Liberty it were a blot upon the land that Gave thee birth; and he who will not Feel for thee and thine, may shame and Dark dishonour seize his recreant heart, And everlasting slavery be his doom. |
COLLINS
Collins ! - the matchless pleader of the poor
Man's cause - friend of the widow and the Fatherless - whose glowing eloquence hath Fill'd our hearts with thrilling rapture. Who that hath seen thee, with unsparing lash, Lay bare the heartless villany of man to man, And hath not felt a love of virtue and of Liberty, is base indeed, or blinded by the Soul-benumbing power of selfish imbecility. Collins! - the highest testimony of thy worth is this, Tyrants fear thee, and, to crush the aspirations Of thy honest heart, they've thrust thee, with a Sacrilegious grasp, within a dark cold Dungeon But, Collins, art thou not guilty of Sedition? Ay, didst thou not tell the starving Multitude, that rank oppression was the |
Source from whence their misery spring --
A libel - a helish heresy: - and think Ye that the guardians of the State could Brook the foul reproach upon our country's Fame? Not when a prison cell could rid Them (and perchance for ever too) of one so hateful. Heaven disappoint the fiendish hope and nerve Thee in thy lonely exile. Collins! it were enough To break thy honest heart, if those whose Battles thou hast fought should stand Aloof in cold neglect, till want had cross'd The threshold of thy children's home ! Perish the hateful thought. No in thy Dark adversity, the men of Scotland Shall not be the last to soothe the partner Of thy life, and make the hearthstone of thy Dear-loved little ones to smile. |
LOVETT
Lovett —there's magic in that name
To knit our souls in holy brotherhood. Presiding genius of the mighty movement, Whose master-mind is destined yet to lead The millions of thy native land to freedom's Sacred fane. No vaunting braggart thou Hast been, but when the day of trial Came, it found thee full of calm unshrinking Dignity, and made thy bitterest foes To quail before thy nobleness of soul. Truth, Liberty, and Justice hail thy honour'd Name! and from the hearth of many a Humble home, a prayer for Lovett and for Liberty hath gone on high. Patriot martyr : |
Friend of the oppress'd : crime-cover'd
Despots yet shall feel thy power, and England blush to own, that one so worthy Of her soil, should ere have felt the Degradation of a felon's fate—a felon : Would there were millions such as thee! God's blessing be within thy heart, to cheer Thy prison-home, till forth in triumph Ye shall come, when millions of honest Generous hearts shall bid thee joyous Welcome ! as the fearless champion Of the noblest cause that ever Woke the deathless soul of man. Then let our watchword for our Charter be, |
Collins ! - Vincent ! - Lovett ! - Liberty !
JOHN MITCHELL
From his book of poems entitled
"Poems, Radical Rhymes, Tales, etc" published 1840
From his book of poems entitled
"Poems, Radical Rhymes, Tales, etc" published 1840
SCOTLAND'S SONG OF LIBERTY
To William Lovett, John Collins & Peter McDouall
On their Liberation from the Prisons of England
On their Liberation from the Prisons of England
With spirit still unbroken,
From Engalnd’s dungeon walls, Come ye! Tis a nation calls. Come! Come! To the hearts that bound to be Once more with the tried and fearless three. For labour’s rights contending As bravely as before, Fair freedom still defending – Come to the North once more From the South’rons chains – from Engalnd’s thrall – Come! Come! Tis Auld Scotland’s toiler’s call. Of toil and danger fearless, Unyielding still ye stood; In dungeons dark and cheerless, Ye still were unsubdued. Then come! For this daring nobly done – Receive ye the thanks so bravely won. |
And still, unfearing any,
Your dauntless course pursue; Still to the injur’d many, As ye have been – be true, And more than a people’s praise shall be Your meet reward, brave patriots three. Raise! Raise! Glad welcome toilers To freedom’s worth three, Who ne’er to England’s spoilers Would bow the coward knee, Raise your welcome hand, unburg’d by fear – It is not a royal toy you cheer! And be proud triumph sounded Till traitors hearts shall quail – Till tryrant’s souls, astounded With guilty fear shall fail; Till the toilers hearts again shall bound And Auld Scotland’s hills with joy resound! |
EDWARD POLIN
Paisley, August 1840
Paisley, August 1840
THE WAR-CRY
I heard it - not the wild, dissonant, yell –
The vengeful madness of an Indian's cry; Who, as he fiercely flies to the conflict fell, By the war-whoop calls his comrades to die! Not the ferocious din of feudal strife, Where clan with clan and tribe with tribe engage, Where horrid carnage, wholesale loss of life; Is the sad product of impetuous rage ! I heard it - not the hated martial sounds, Wafted by Eastern zephyrs from afar; Bay harbingers of scars, and blood, and wounds – The dire concomitants of Christian war; Unnatural trade of human butchery – The widow's groan, the orphan's tear are thine; A nation's flowers are sacrificed by thee, A gory offering at ambitions shrine! |
I heard it - at the patriots' * call, it burst
Like pealing thunder, from the Scottish plain! And Cambria wept in remembrance of Frost, As her hills and dales re-echoed the strain From England, the laud of labour and toil; It swell'd on the gale, decisive and strong, Through the length and breadth of the Emerald Isle, The sound omnipotent gather'd along. I heard it - 'twas tyranny’s funeral knell - + The high resolves of a people oppress'd – The groans of the sons of labour, that tell 'Tis dang'rous to slight a nation's behest. 'Twas the mustering forth of the patriot band – The banner of freedom streaming on high – They spake and nought their power could withstand – The Charter, the Charter, we'll have, or we'll die! |
* Messrs Collins, McDouall, and White.
+ It is customary to perform the funeral rites for traitors, or murderers, when proceeding to the place of execution.
+ It is customary to perform the funeral rites for traitors, or murderers, when proceeding to the place of execution.
JOSEPH RADFORD
Birmingham, November 1840
Birmingham, November 1840
LINES TO MESSRS. WHITE AND COLLINS
O welcome, British patriots brave,
Ye glorious sons of liberty, You've been immured, as.in a grave, But now the tyrants ye defy. May He who rules the earth and skies Protect you from the oppressor's sway – May you spread light where darkness lies, And make it shine like orient day. |
May Scotia’s sons ne'er fall behind,
But still advance the noble cause, Until they do the tyrants bind, We'll then have just and equal laws. May Scotia's thistle, and England's rose, Bloom bonny on the flowery lea, Nought disturbing their repose, And may the country soon be free. |
May freedom, harmony, and love,
Be fraught with majesty divine – May White and Collins bravely move The cause that soon will make them shine. |
AMICUS (anonymous)
Brechin, November, 1840.
Brechin, November, 1840.
SONNET TO LOVETT AND COLLINS
Lovett and Collins are enough to show
Heaven scatters mental gifts with liberal hand!
Nor leaves the labourers an unthinking band;
But with impartial smiles deigns to bestow
On the uncultured mind a brighter glow
Than often fires the nobles of a land,
Else gold might have permission to command,
And power would sanction every unjust law,
Reason speakes out, and, in the voice of " Watts,"
Proclaims the standard of a man's the mind,
And not the animal - caged by ingots,
Or yet the titled knave, by nature blind,
No, no; this sovereign reigns in humble cots,
With powers surpassing when with truth entwined.
J. VERNON.
South Molton, Nov. 30th, 1840.
Lovett and Collins are enough to show
Heaven scatters mental gifts with liberal hand!
Nor leaves the labourers an unthinking band;
But with impartial smiles deigns to bestow
On the uncultured mind a brighter glow
Than often fires the nobles of a land,
Else gold might have permission to command,
And power would sanction every unjust law,
Reason speakes out, and, in the voice of " Watts,"
Proclaims the standard of a man's the mind,
And not the animal - caged by ingots,
Or yet the titled knave, by nature blind,
No, no; this sovereign reigns in humble cots,
With powers surpassing when with truth entwined.
J. VERNON.
South Molton, Nov. 30th, 1840.
POEM BY FERGUS O'CONNOR
Whilst in York Gaol Fergus O'Connor wrote a thirty-one verse poem, which he wanted sung during the welcome procession that escorted John Collins from Warwick Gaol into Birmingham. Below are the first six verses including a reference to John Collins and his fellow prisoner William Lovett. In the seventh verse O'Connor names himself the chosen Saviour of the Chartist Movement. However, the poem was not sung or read during the celebrations for John Collins.
From East to West, from North to South
Let us proclaim the Charter! We'll send all tyrants right about Who dare oppose the Charter. Come, come, my lads, we can't stand still And sleep upon the Charter. The drones alone now have their fill, Because they have their Charter. In Englands's name, her own King John Once tried to sell her Charter. But England's sons, now dead and gone, All rose for England's Charter. |
Let England, Scotland, Erin too
Join hearts to gain the Charter. The laws are made but for the few, Our rights are in the Charter. By moral force, we'll strive to gain The five points of the Charter. And if in battle-field we're slain, Our sons will have the Charter. Will Lovett, Collins, and the rest, Who suffer'd for the Charter, In old St Stephen's shall be plac'd To rule us by the Charter. |
ROBERT BURNS - STIRRING SONGS FOR THE CHARTIST MOVEMENT
Music and bands were frequently part of great meetings, often accompanying stirring songs that were meant to move the mind and stir the heart.
The following Robert Burns song "A Man's A Man For A' That" was sung on August 8th 1840 during a Grand Dinner at the White Conduit House, London, England celebrating the release of political activists John Collins and William Lovett from Warwick Gaol. The words of this lovely Scottish song were so apt for the occasion, and especially John Collins who worked so hard in Scotland. At the sit-down dinner at the White Conduit House some 1200 people enthusiastically "hailed" the liberation of these two amazing men.
A MAN'S A MAN FOR ALL THAT
Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an' a' that; The coward slave - we pass him by, We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, an' a' that. Our toils obscure an' a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The Man's the gowd for a' that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin grey, an' a that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine; A Man's a Man for a' that: For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, an' a' that; The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. |
Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that, Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, His ribband, star, an' a' that, The man o' independent mind, He looks an' laughs at a' that. A Prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an' a' that! But an honest man's aboon his might – Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! For a' that, an' a' that, Their dignities, an' a' that, The pith o' Sense an' pride o' Worth Are higher rank than a' that. |
Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a' that, That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth Shall bear the gree an' a' that. For a' that, an' a' that, It's comin yet for a' that, That Man to Man the warld o'er Shall brithers be for a' that. ROBERT BURNS |
To hear a rendition of the Robbie Burns song performed by Sheena Wellington (uploaded to YouTube by Bruce Davis) at the 1999 Opening of the Scottish Parliament please click here - or copy and paste the following link into your browser: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hudNoXsUj0o
JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO
"John Anderson, My Jo" was another song by Robert Burns that found political expression during the Chartist Movement, including John Collins' tour of Scotland in 1840 following his liberation from Warwick Gaol.
With its theme of enduring love and affection, the song was performed as a mark of honour and respect for the man the Scots considered their returning hero. At a soiree in Glasgow this was particularly so when McCrea of Kilbarchan (Collins had campaigned in both places before imprisonment) sang "John Anderson, My Jo" changing the last line of each verse to "John Collins, My Jo." [Humanities Research Vol XIX. No 3. 2013 'The Travels of John Anderson, My Jo,' Kate Bowen] Note: My "Jo" is a Scottish term of endearment, such as my dear. |
HYMN OF CELEBRATION
Thanks to John Collins' tremendous campaign efforts in 1838, the men of Scotland were encouraged to join the British Chartist Movement and sign the National Petition in support of the People's Charter. The following Scottish hymn was written for, and sung at, a Meeting of the Aberdeen Working Men's Association, in celebration of the presentation of the Chartist's first National Petition in 1839.
O God of heaven, and earth, and sea!
Our fervent prayers we breathe to thee: For thou alone canst know our grief, And thou alone canst send relief. Here at they footstool we will bow; O let they blessing on us flow; And shield, and guide, and set us free, Great God of truth and LIBERTY. A nations' cry, O! do thou hear; Increase our hope, dispel our fear; And give us strength our foess to quel, And bid our holy cause prevail. |
Then o'er our ransomed land shall rise,
From grateful hearts the song of praise' And while our vict'ry we proclaim, We'll sing hosanna to they name. JOHN MITCHELL |
HYMN OF THE BIRMINGHAM POLITICAL UNION
John Collins was the first working class man to be elected to the Birmingham Political Union. He became their leading speaker during the early years of the Chartist Movement. Their Union Hymn urged the people to join the cause for political reform, and the following are the first of several rousing verses.
Over mountain, over plain,
Echoing wide from sea to sea, Peals, and shall not peal in vain. The trumpet call of Liberty. Britain's guardian spirit cries, Britons! Awake, Awake, Arise. Sleep no more the sleep of shame, Arouse and break Oppression's chain! Lull'd by Freedoms empty name, Worse than slaves no more remain: Freedom's rights, not Freedom's name, Learn to know, and dare to claim. |
SHELLEY - QUEEN MAB : A PHILOSPHICAL POEM
Queen Mab was published anonymously in 1812. This lengthy poem in nine sections by Percy Bysshe Shelley was used during the 19th century by working class organizations such as the Chartists, who were often unaware of the author's identity. The English Chartist Circular (No 81 Vol 2), also known as a half-penny magazine, published this particular verse from section III of Queen Mab under the heading "The Destroyers of Human Happiness," mistakenly attributing it to Byron.
THE DESTROYERS OF HUMAN HAPPINESS
Those gilded flies That, basing in the sunshine of a court, Fatten on its corruption! - what are they? The drones of the community; they feed On the mechanic's labour; the staved hind For them compels the stubborn glebe to yield Its unshared harvests; and yon squalid form, Leaner than fleshless misery, that wastes A sunless life in the unwholesome mine, Drags out in labour a protracted death, To glut their grandeur; many faint with toil That few may know the cares and woe of sloth. |
A CONTEMPORARY POEM IN HONOUR OF JOHN COLLINS
The following poem is reproduced with kind permission of Karen Smith.
"THE LEGACY OF JOHN COLLINS"
Built on the back of the working class man, the cobblestone streets of fair Birmingham. Where the rich grew fat and the poor grew lean, rose a maker of tools and dreamer of dreams. Who is he to speak for all that tis good? Does he not strive as all righteous men should! Dare he believe in his god given rights, and becometh the voice of the working mans plight. Doth persecution and ruin silence his lips, when freedom was there at their fingertips? Nay! – never whilst his proud heart did yearn, the betterment of England and all her children. Could he but foresee the fruits of his labour, such pride and success would be his to long savour. For from his loins and by his own hand, sprang forth the legacy of a truly great man. A grandson whose plight would see him cross oceans, to challenge the belief of lofty men’s notions. In pointed phrase and with bellowing voice, FREEDOM – he pronounced, is everyone’s choice. Gone is the man who planted the tree, who believed in his soul that all men are free. Vast is his legacy that thrives unrestrained, where the dreams of a tool maker forever remain. © KAREN SMITH - 2010 |