The Alarm!!! — Or, Lord Fauconberg’s March
On the commencement of the impress service, in March, 1793, considerable riots took place at Shields, which were represented at Newcastle, in a thousand terrific shapes; and a false alarm having been given at the Mansion House, the drums of the York Militia beat to arms; Lord Fauconberg marched that regiment to the house of Rendezvous in the Broad Chare, and then marched back again.
God prosper long our warlike king,
And noblemen also,
Who valiantly, with sword in hand,
Doth guard us from each foe.
No sooner did lord Fauconberg,
With heart undaunted, hear
That news to Gotham had been brought,
Which caus’d our mayor to fear.
Then up he rose, with eyes on fire,
Most dreadful to the view;
To arms! to arms! aloud he cry’d,
And forth his faulchion drew.
To arms! to arms! full long and sore,
The rattling drums did beat;
To arms! in haste! each soldier flies,
And scours thro’ ev’ry street.
The women shriek, and wring their hands,
Their children weep around;
Whilst some, more wise, fast bolt their doors,
And hide them under ground.
The French are at our gates, they cry,
And we shall all be slain;
For Dumourier is at their head,
And that arch traitor Paine.
In haste drawn up, in fair array,
Our Yorkshire guards are seen;
And mounted on a jet black stud,
Lord Fauconberg, I ween,—
Who bravely gave the word to march,
And furiously did ride;
And prancing first, great Brunswick like,
’Twas well the streets were wide.
From Newgate, down to the Broad Chare,
They march’d with might and main;
Then gallantly they turned them round,
And so “march’d up again.”
Then fill a bumper to the brim,
And drink to Gotham’s mayor;
And when again he hears such news,
May Fauconberg be there.