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[We are indebted to Miss FitzGibbon for a copy of the Cobourg Star of February 7th, 1838, in which appears, under the above title, an epitome, from one point of view, of Rebellion events. Its humours make it a fitting introduction for the papers which follow.]

“Now puny discord first broke out, And fools rebelled; but what about They could not tell.”

There lived in famed Toronto town

A man not very big,

A belted knight was he likewise—

Knight of the old bay wig.

Mackenzie was this hero called,

From Scotia’s land he came,

To sow and reap—if e’er he could—

The seeds of future fame.

Well taught was he to broil and scold,

To slander and to lie,

The good to libel—but the bad

Around him close to tie.

A precious clan this hero got

To join him in the cause

Of Freedom, which but truly meant

Upturning of our laws.

He travelled all the country round,

With grievances his cry;

Then off to father John, at home,

Right quickly did he hie.

And then he told so many lies

That John began to stare;

And eke he talked so very large

That John began to swear.

Then out Mackenzie pulled the roll

Of those who did complain;

And for redress of grievances

He bawled with might and main.

Now John a so-so clerk had got—

A Janus-looking elf,

Who cared for nothing else of earth

But sleeping and himself.

Glenelg was snoring in his chair

His custom every day—

Then up he got and rubbed his eyes

To brush the sleep away.

Said he, “Rebellion is our love,

In it we do delight;

So now you may go back again,

We’ll soon set things to right;

“For you and all the world must know,

By it our place we keep.”

But scarcely had he spoke these words

When he was fast asleep.

And when he’d slept ten months or so,

He called him for a pen;

But long before it ready was

He’d sunk to sleep again.

Now goodman Stephen in his ear

In whispering accents said—

“Both pens and paper now, my Lord,

Are on your table laid.”

So quick he took the gray goose-quill,

And wrote a neat despatch;

Says he, “I think that that, at least,

Their Tory wiles will match.

“Just as my name, it may be read

Whichever way you like,

Or Whig or Tory, as may best

The reader’s fancy strike.

“So And me now Sir Francis Head—

A learned knight is he—

Successor to the brave Sir John

I vow that man shall be.”

Sir Francis came, but long declined

The proffered post to take,

Until convinced by Lord Glenelg

’Twas for Reform’s sake.

“Now take this book,” his Lordship said,

“And in it you may see

The many wrongs that do oppress

A people blest and free.

“And take you also this despatch,

And read it over well;

But to the people you need not

Its whole contents to tell.”

Sir Francis bowed, and off he came

In hurry to be here;

And rabble shout and rabble praise

Fell thick upon his ear.

But full amazed was he to see

The good Sir John depart;

For blessings flowed from many a lip

And sighs from many a heart.

“Good lack!” quoth he, “but this is strange

Which I do now behold,

For that Sir John most hated was

In England we were told!”

And then he made a little speech,

And said he’d let them know,

What his instructions fully were

He meant to them to show.

It happened then our worthy knights

Were met in Parliament,

And unto them a copy neat

Of the despatch he sent.

And then they blustered and they fumed

And acted as if mad,

And said though things were bad before,

They now were twice as bad.

And then they asked that from their ranks

Six Councillors he’d choose—

Six men of wisdom, whose advice

In all behests he’d use.

To humour them he did his best,

And quickly tried the plan, sir:

But quite as quickly he found out

That it would never answer.

He said, “One law shall be my guide,

From which I’ll never swerve—

The Constitution I’ll uphold

With all my might and nerve.”

So shortly to the right-about

He sent them in a hurry,

Which caused among their loving friends

A most outrageous flurry.

The House was filled with witty chaps,

Who of a joke were fond;

They thought it would be mighty fine

To ask him for a “Bond.”

And then were speeches long and thick,

With nonsense and with rant,

And “Rights of Council” soon became Reformers’ fav’rite cant.

And then one Peter Perry rose,

And in a flaming speech

He vowed that he Sir Francis Head

The use of laws would teach.

He said he had a plan which should

The country’s temper try,

And then he moved him that the House

Would stop the year’s supply.

A mighty struggle then arose,

Of who’d be first to vote;

For they their lessons well had read

And knew them all by rote.

Now up the Speaker of the House

With hasty step arose,

A letter from a friend below

He on the table throws.

The letter, read, was found to be

With treason full well pack’d;

It begg’d that rebels from below

Might by that House be back’d.

To print it, it was found too late—

Alas! they were not able,

For, dire mischance, some wicked wight

Had stole it from the table.

Sir Francis took them at their word—

He was as quick as they—

And with a speech that made them wince

He sent them all away.

Addresses now from far and near

To him came pouring in,

That he would give the people chance

Of choosing better men.

And now each Briton’s bosom beat chance

Right joyous at the thought,

That they at length had gained the

Which they so long had sought.

Our tried and trusty Governor,

Of rebel well aware,

Defied their malice, and them told

“To come on if they dare.”

Now all around our happy land

Was heard a joyous shout—

Of forty-seven, rebels all,

Full thirty were left out.

Ex-Speaker Bidwell in the dumps

Vow’d politics he’d quit;

For well he know in that there House He never more could sit.

Mackenzie also lost his place,

“And whete and phlower” too, Mud Turtle and his hopeful gang Were left their deeds to rue.

And Loyalty triumphant was

In almost every place,

Its bitter foes were left at home

To batten on disgrace.

Of Doctor Duncombe must I tell,

Who off to England hies,

And thought a wondrous job to work

By pawning off his lies.

How, decked with jewels of all kinds,

He looked so mighty gay,

And how his name he quickly changed

When he got well away.

And how he met with Jocky R.,

And Josey Hume, also,

And what a jolly set they were

When planning what to do.

And soon they summ’d up all our wants

The “tottle” for to find;

Said Josey, “Soon a storm I’ll raise,”

Said Duncombe, “That is kind.

“And—for I know you never stick

At trick’ry or at lie;

I think we might make out a case

Twix’t Roebuck, you and I.”

But when they’d said their utmost say,

And vented all their spleen,

The truth it shortly came to light,

Such things had never been.

And then Sir Francis high was praised

And just applauses met,

And by his King he straightway was

Created Baronet.

Not so Lord Gosford, who, intent

His nat’ral bent to show,

The titled minion had become

Of Speaker Papineau.

In him rebellion evermore

Was sure to find a friend;

His only study seemed to be

His utmost help to lend.

It happen’d that the rebel gang

Some resolutions passed,

To which they swore that they would stick

Unto the very last.

And Melbourne then, to ease their fears,

Three knowing G’s (geese) did send, To see if they could calm the French And make their murmurs end.

They quickly came, Lord Gosford chief,

A pretty set were they,

And Jean Baptiste, he swore outright

He not a sou would pay.

Lord Johnny Russell then got wrath,

And spoke as lion bold,

That he the money soon should get

As in the time of old.

The Frenchmen at St. Charles then

Did loud assert their right;

But soon they found ’twas easier far

To make a speech than fight.

For quick the Loyalists around

Their much loved flag did rally,

The battle-shout was heard throughout

The broad St. Lawrence valley.

Corunna’s chieftain, he was there,

With gallant Wetherall,

And many loyal men, prepared

To conquer or to fall.

How British bayonets did their Work

Let razed St. Charles tell;

St. Eustache, also, where in scores

The dastard rebels fell.

Of gallant Markham would I sing,

And others if I could;

Of Weir, who most inhumanly

Was murdered in cold blood.

But soon the traitors were compelled

With grief to bite the dust;

They crouched beneath the British flag,

As every traitor must.

But where were they, the gallant chiefs, Who led the people on? In vain you searched, for they away To Yankee-land had gone.

Among the rebels there were found

Some dozen M.P.P.’s;

Who now confined in jail may pass

The winter at their ease.

But to Sir Mac. we now return,

From whom we’ve strayed too long;

This verse, I think, will just conclude

The middle of my song.

Mackenzie and his rebel gang

In Doel’s brewery met,

“A bung-hole pack,” Jim Dalton calls

This mischief-brewing set.

And there they laid down all their plans

Of this great revolution,

And destined Rolph to be the head

Of their new Constitution.

At length unto this crew the Knight

A flaming speech addressed,

And told the plan which after all

Did unto him seem best.

Said he: “My true and trusty friends,

Though we have promised been

Reform these many years, yet we

Reform have never seen.

“So now, my lads, no longer we

In anxious doubt must wait,

The time has come for pulling down

The Church, the Queen, and State.

“For vote by ballot we must have,

And stars and garters too,

And we must hang Sir Francis Head,

With all his Tory crew.

“I’ve written round to all my friends

That they should ready be,

And as of them we are now sure

We’ll gain the victory.

“The Tories all securely sleep,

And dream they’ve naught to fear,

Nor little think that to their end

They now are drawing near.

“John Strachan now is quite at rest,

And Robinson likewise;

But soon at Freedom’s shrine of them

We’ll make a sacrifice.

“The red-coats, too, are far away,

Removed from every station,

And now it is our time to burst

From ‘hateful domination.’

“The Yankees also are prepared

To lend a helping hand

To breed confusion and dismay

Throughout this happy land.

“And now, my friends, in right good truth,

We’ve little time to spare,

Go quick, collect your several bands

And arm them with great care.”

When he had done, all gave a shout

To show their courage high,

And then obedient to his words

In various paths they fly.

The blacksmith Lount, he active was

Both spears and swords to make,

And General Duncombe hoped that soon

Fort Malden he might take.

Mackenzie to mail-robbing took—

A most delightful trade

For one who every blackguard art

Erstwhile had well essayed.

And when he got three hundred men,

All brave ones as himself,

He then marched to Toronto town

To see and gain some pelf.

Their gallant deeds and gallant acts

I’m sure I need not tell,

How full four hundred armed men

Ran from the College bell.

Nor how full thirty men at least

Did one old man attack,

Nor dared to fight him face to face,

But shot him in the back.

How good Sir Frank a flag of truce

With Rolph and Baldwin sent

Unto the rebel camp, to ask

Them what was their intent;

And how they (prompted by the twain)

Declared ’twas their intention

To settle all the State affairs

By General Convention.

And then Toronto in a blaze

They threatened for to set,

But nearer than Montgomery’s

They ne’er to it could get.

’Twas on the seventh of that month

Which we do call December,

Sir Francis Head led out his men—

That day we’ll long remember.

And then ’twas glorious fun to see

What rabble rout could do—

They every man took to his heels,

The word was, Sauve qui peut.

Some hundred taken prisoners were

On that eventful day;

Sir Francis with too kind a heart

He let them all away.

But “Which way did the leaders run?”

I think I hear you ask;

To tell which way they took, I ween,

Would be an arduous task.

Soon as the news of this outbreak

Had gone the country through,

It was a glorious sight to see

How quick to arms they flew;

And ’mongst the foremost in the ranks

To quell the rebel band,

Old Erin’s dauntless shamrock stood

A guardian of the land.

And then was seen old England’s rose

In all its pride and glory;

And Scotland’s thistle, which is known

In many a deathless story.

And with them joined thy valiant sons,

My own adopted land,

To form around the Queen and laws

A glorious valiant band.

MacNab his gallant volunteers

Led anxious to the fight,

And all the west poured in her troops

To stand in freedom’s right.

Newcastle, too, her quota sent

Of men both good and true;

In truth it was a cheering sight

Their bearing high to view.

Of Cobourg, too, I needs must sing,

Which on that trying day

The fire of virtuous loyalty

Did to our eyes display.

There Conger with his company,

With Calcutt and with Clarke,

And Warren, with his rifle band,

Whom every eye did mark.

And on they went, a gallant set,

To stop the foes rebelling;

How many prisoners they took

Would take some time in telling.

Meanwhile Mackenzie, safe and sound,

Had got to Buffalo;

The Yankees sympathized with him

And made him quite a show.

Neutrality it was their law,

But that they never minded,

They sympathized with rebels so

It quite their reason blinded.

Their papers, too, were filled with stuff,

With nonsense and with lies:

So fast they told them, that you’d think

They lied but for some prize.

At length, when after much ado

They got two hundred men,

Mackenzie in high spunk set off

To try the job again.

At first I hear ’twas their intent

At Waterloo to land,

But Newcastle’s good rifles there

Were ready to their hand.

Rensselaer then took the command

Of those degraded wretches,

For some had neither coat nor hat,

And some not even breeches.

To Navy Island then they went,

And there made a great splutter—

A Constitution printed off,

And many threats did utter.

Alas, for Yankee modesty!

It really is quite shocking,

Some ladies made the rebels shirts, And some, too, sent them stocking.

Of many acts which by our men

Right gallantly were done,

I’ve spun my verse to such a length

I can relate but one.

And that the very gallant act

Of Captain Andrew Drew,

Whose name must be immortalized,

Likewise his daring crew.

A Yankee steamer oft had tried

The rebels aid to bring;

This English seaman swore that he

Would not allow the thing.

The Captain and his valiant crew,

Whose names I wot not all,

From Schlosser cut the steamboat out

And sent her o’er the Fall.

Oh! then the Yankees stormed outright,

And spoke of reparation;

A mighty flame then rose through this

Tobacco-chewing nation.

But little Mat was far too wise

The risk of war to run,

For he was one who never thought

In fighting there was fun.

So quickly to the frontier he

Sent General Winfield Scott,

Who in last war at Lundy’s Lane

A right good drubbing got.

Meanwhile upon the rebel host

Our guns so well did play

With shot and shell that they right soon

Were glad to run away.

And Duncombe, too, oh! where is he,

The Doctor, brave and bold?

Some say that he is dead and gone,

Being perished in the cold.

And now that the rebellion’s o’er

Let each true Briton sing,

Long live the Queen in health and peace,

And may each rebel swing.

And good Sir Francis Head, may he

With health and peace be crowned;

May earthly happiness to him

For evermore abound.

God prosper, too, my own loved land,

Thy sons so brave and true,

A heavy debt of loyalty

Doth England owe to you.

But as for those said Yankee chaps,

They well may pine and fret,

For, by lord Harry, they will have

To pay us all the debt.

And now to Mac. there’s still one step

To end his life of evil;

Soon may he take the last long leap

From gibbet to the——.