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John Wall Callcott
(1766 - 1821)
You gentlemen on t'other side
(A.T.B.)
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You gentlemen on t'other side
(A.T.B.)
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Callcott's glee, "You gentlemen of England" appeared c.1794, and achieved instant popularity, being incorporated into several theatrical productions, and attaining the status of a national air. This parody (words of unknown authorship, fitted to Callcott's music by Samuel Wesley) was issued in 1804 at the zenith of recruitment of volunteers to counter the threat of invasion; a threat dispersed in the following year as a result of the Battle of Trafalgar.
Lyrics: Anon
You gentlemen on t'other side who live at home on frogs,
How rightly do you estimate old England's valiant dogs;
Consult our loyal volunteers and they will tell you more
How we use "Parlez vous" if they dare attempt our shore.
When, guardians of their native land, our martial hosts appear,
How the frogs will begin to jump about in the belly of mounseer;
How pale will grow his lantern jaws when English cannons roar.
Sink their boats, cut their throats, or drive them from our shore.
Then, citizen and emperor, upon your throne sit still;
Your fawning Frenchmen must submit, but Britons never will;
For not a single French jackboot shall teach your country more
Should your slaves cross the waves and trespass on our shore.
Let all unite with hand and heart to shew the Gallic chief
How the stomach of a Frenchman turns at the taste of English beef;
That soldiers can the pride maintain which tars have won before,
And while these rule the seas, how their comrades guard the shore.
You gentlemen on t'other side who live at home on frogs,
How rightly do you estimate old England's valiant dogs;
Consult our loyal volunteers and they will tell you more
How we use "Parlez vous" if they dare attempt our shore.
When, guardians of their native land, our martial hosts appear,
How the frogs will begin to jump about in the belly of mounseer;
How pale will grow his lantern jaws when English cannons roar.
Sink their boats, cut their throats, or drive them from our shore.
Then, citizen and emperor, upon your throne sit still;
Your fawning Frenchmen must submit, but Britons never will;
For not a single French jackboot shall teach your country more
Should your slaves cross the waves and trespass on our shore.
Let all unite with hand and heart to shew the Gallic chief
How the stomach of a Frenchman turns at the taste of English beef;
That soldiers can the pride maintain which tars have won before,
And while these rule the seas, how their comrades guard the shore.