The Death of Calico Jack; or the
Bad markets....Several tradesmen threatened with arrest, Oh! the effects of high living. Curse upon lewd women, and ﬁe upon the foreign Company, they under sell us. For what reason? They have their goods made from good wool, we have ours from waste. They have their yarn spun for little or nothing, so have we. The merchants enjoy the juice of the grape, but we will be content with a little malt liquour. Oh! St. David’s Day, be thou like the days of job....let no sun shine upon it....and let it be blotted out from the other days of the year, and let every spinner and weaver of cotton tremble at the remembrance thereof, and let love and friendship be united and dated from this day, and handed down to the latest posterity. But find us the man whose foundation is not shaken at such unprecedented proceedings Quere, is this the way they mean to go to heaven? if so, God enlighten their dark understandings.
Sunday. The prayer of the congregation are desired for the cotton trade and let all the people say, Amen.
Tuesday. Dissected and examined by numbers of Anathamptists, and the Cotton Trade found to be wilfully murdered by persons well known, viz. absolutely choaked with waste.
Wednesday. The town in general disordered. The right honourable and most ignoble Lord Strut, chief president of the company of starve beggars, seduced by some means his fellow creatures to shut up their warehouses, workshops, &c. till such times trade mends or work for whatever they please to give them. Agreed nem con.
Thursday. The spinners and weavers agreed to weather out the storm, and support themselves by other means.
Saturday. Wages paid, shops shut, & a general fast & mouring proclaimed.
Sunday. The spinners and weavers agreed, let us eat and drink to-day, for tomorrow we die; and like the widow of Zarepah, die with a full stomach, ﬂattering themselves they will not be the worse received in Heaven.
Monday. The Military arrived, some say to quell a riot, sed fulsum est, take nothing from nothing, and nothing remains: and every day since, the town has been rigidly strict in abserving Mourning and fasting, (particularly the poor distressed Spinners and weavers) and will for a long time.
Go to, ye great men, mourn and weep, for the time cometh when you must balance not only with your Merchants, but with one who will not take light gold, bad bills, nor blank securities—'tis hard for a Camel to go through the eye of a needle—when you die, which you certainly think you never must—you will not be asked how much money you possessed here.
The Funeral will be solemnized; the Trade interred in Oliver Cromwell’s Grave, near Lancashire Bridge, on Saturday by ten o’Clock
The Procession as follows: Evil to him who thinks on Evil, doodle doodle doo.
To be extended full length upon the bottom of a Coach or Chariot of some exalted Weaver or Barber covered with a plaid Paul to be 8 bearers
Major General Short Tongue
The Right Honorable Admiral Shifter,
Colonel Black Sam, and Captain Stewmug,
The Honorable Colonel Plowshare,
And Brigadiers Shufﬂe and Cut, Esqrs.
To be drawn by thirty broken Tradesmen, in Second Mourning,
The distressed Spinners with scarfs and cockados of Waste Cotton, two and two.
Badgers, Butchers, Shopkeepers, Hucksters, and Ale-sellers, in full mourning, two and two.
Carding Engine, Jenny makers, and Loom makers, Spinners and Weavers, Wives and Children, two and two in ragged be-gowns, and old Shoes on. The Perpetrators of this Murder to be tarr’d and feathered.
A Funeral Sermon will be preached at the Tabernacle, from Isaiah xxiv. 10. 11. “The City of Confusion is broke down, Every House is shut up, that no Man come in. There is a cry for Wine in the Streets, All joy is darkened, and the mirth of the land is gone.”
This handbill can be found at various locations in the Home Office papers, in divisions HO 42/150 & HO 42/151.