Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, July 24, 1841 by Various
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Various >> Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, July 24, 1841
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 1.
FOR THE WEEK ENDING JULY 24, 1841.
* * * * *
A MODEST METHOD OF FORMING A NEW BUDGET
SO AS TO PROVIDE FOR THE DEFICIENCY OF THE REVENUE.
[Illustration: P] Poor Mr. Dyer! And so this gentleman has been dismissed
from the commission of the peace for humanely endeavouring to obtain the
release of Medhurst from confinement. Two or three thousand pounds, he
thought, given to some public charity, might persuade the Home Secretary to
remit the remainder of his sentence, and dispose the public to look upon
the prisoner with an indulgent eye.
Now, Mr. Punch, incline thy head, and let me whisper a secret into thine
ear. If the Whig ministry had not gone downright mad with the result of the
elections, instead of dismissing delectable Dyer, they would have had him
down upon the Pension List to such a tune as you wot not of, although of
tunes you are most curiously excellent. For, oh! what a project did he
unwittingly shadow forth of recruiting the exhausted budget! Such a one as
a sane Chancellor of the Exchequer would have seized upon, and shaken in
the face of "Robert the Devil," and his crew of "odious monopolists." Peel
must still have pined in hopeless opposition, when Baring opened his plan.
Listen! Mandeville wrote a book, entitled "Private Vices Public Benefits."
Why cannot public crimes, let me ask, be made so? you, perhaps, are not on
the instant prepared with an answer--but I am.
Let the Chancellor of the Exchequer forthwith prepare to discharge all the
criminals in Great Britain, of whatever description, from her respective
prisons, on the payment of a certain sum, to be regulated on the principle
of a graduated or "sliding scale."
A vast sum will be thus instantaneously raised,--not enough, however, you
will say, to supply the deficiency. I know it. But a moment's further
attention. Mr. Goulburn, many years since, being then Chancellor of the
Exchequer, and, like brother Baring, in a financial hobble, proposed that
on the payment, three years in advance, of the dog and hair-powder tax, all
parties so handsomely coming down with the "tin," should henceforth and for
ever rejoice in duty-free dog, and enjoy untaxed cranium. Now, why not a
proposition to this effect--that on the payment of a good round sum (let it
be pretty large, for the ready is required), a man shall be exempt from the
present legal consequences of any crime or crimes he may hereafter commit;
or, if this be thought an extravagant scheme, and not likely to take with
the public, at least let a list of prices be drawn up, that a man may know,
at a glance, at what cost he may gratify a pet crime or favourite little
foible. Thus:--
For cutting one's own child's head off--so much. (I really think I would
fix this at a high price, although I am well aware it has been done for
nothing.)
For murdering a father or a mother--a good sum.
For ditto, a grand ditto, or a great-grand ditto--not so much: their
leases, it is presumed, being about to fall in.
Uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, companions, and the community in
general--in proportion.
The cost of assaults and batteries, and other diversions, might be easily
arranged; only I must remark, that for assaulting policemen I would charge
high; that being, like the Italian Opera, for the most part, the
entertainment of the nobility.
You may object that the propounding such a scheme would be discreditable,
and that the thing is unprecedented. Reflect, my dear PUNCH, for an
instant. Surely, nothing can be deemed to be discreditable by a Whig
government, after the cheap sugar, cheap timber, cheap bread rigs. Why,
this is just what might have been expected from them. I wonder they had not
hit upon it. How it would have "agitated the masses!"
As to the want of a precedent, that is easily supplied. Pardons for all
sorts and sizes of crimes were commonly bought and sold in the reign of
James I.; nay, pardon granted in anticipation of crimes to be at a future
time committed.
After all, you see, Mr. Dyer's idea was not altogether original.
Your affectionate friend,
CHRISTOPHER SLY.
_Pump_ Court.
P.S.--Permit me to congratulate you on the determination you have come to,
of entering the literary world. Your modesty may be alarmed, but I must
tell you that several of our "popular and talented" authors are commonly
thought to be greatly indebted to you. They are said to derive valuable
hints from you, particularly in their management of the pathetic.
Keep a strict eye upon your wife, Judith. You say she will superintend your
notices of the fashions, &c.; but I fear she has been already too long and
exclusively employed on certain newspapers and other periodicals. Her style
is not easily mistaken.
* * * * *
WHIG-WAGGERIES.
The Whigs must go: to reign instead
The Tories will be call'd;
The Whigs should ne'er be at the head--
_Dear me, I'm getting bald_!
The Whigs! they pass'd that Poor Law Bill;
That's true, beyond a doubt;
The poor they've treated very ill--
_There, kick that beggar out_!
The Whigs about the sugar prate!
They do not care one dump
About the blacks and their sad state--
_Just please to pass the lump_!
Those niggers, for their sufferings here,
Will angels be when dying;
Have wings, and flit above us--dear--
_Why, how those blacks are flying_!
The Whigs are in a state forlorn;
In fact, were ne'er so low:
They make a fuss about the corn--
_My love, you're on my toe_!
The Whigs the timber duty say
They will bring down a peg;
More wooden-pated blockheads they!
_Fetch me my wooden leg_!
* * * * *
COURT CIRCULAR.
Deaf Burke took an airing yesterday afternoon in an open cart. He was
accompanied by Jerry Donovan. They afterwards stood up out of the rain
under the piazzas in Covent Garden. In the evening they walked through the
slops.
The dinner at the Harp, yesterday, was composed of many delicacies of the
season, including bread-and-cheese and onions. The hilarity of the evening
was highly increased by the admirable style in which Signor Jonesi sang
"Nix my dolly pals."
Despatches yesterday arrived at the house of Reuben Martin, enclosing a
post order for three-and six-pence.
The Signor and Deaf Burke walked out at five o'clock. They after wards
tossed for a pint of half-and-half.
Jerry Donovan and Bill Paul were seen in close conversation yesterday. It
is rumoured that the former is in treaty with the latter for a pair of
left-off six-and-eightpenny Clarences.
Paddy Green intends shortly to remove to a three-pair back-room in Little
Wild-street, Drury-lane, which he has taken for the summer. His loss will
be much felt in the neighbourhood.
* * * * *
AN AN-TEA ANACREONTIC.--No. 2.
Rundell! pride of Ludgate Hill!
I would task thine utmost skill;
I would have a bowl from thee
Fit to hold my Howqua tea.
And oh! leave it not without
Ivory handle and a spout.
Where thy curious hand must trace
Father Mathew's temperate face,
So that he may ever seem
Spouting tea and breathing steam.
On its sides do not display
Fawns and laughing nymphs at play
But portray, instead of these,
Funny groups of fat Chinese:
On its lid a mandarin,
Modelled to resemble Lin.
When completed, artisan,
I will pay you--if I can.
* * * * *
SPORTING.
THE KNOCKER HUNT.
On Thursday, July 8, 1841, the celebrated pack of Knocker Boys met at the
Cavendish, in Jermyn Street. These animals, which have acquired for
themselves a celebrity as undying as that of Tom and Jerry, are of a fine
powerful breed, and in excellent condition. The success which invariably
attends them must be highly gratifying to the distinguished nobleman who,
if he did not introduce this particular species into the metropolis, has at
least done much to bring it to its present extraordinary state of
perfection.
As there may be some of our readers who are ignorant of the purposes for
which this invaluable pack has been organised, it may be as well to state a
few particulars, before proceeding to the detail of one of the most
splendid nights upon record in the annals of disorderism.
The knocker is a thing which is generally composed of brass or iron. It has
frequently a violent resemblance to the "human face divine," or the
ravenous expressiveness of a beast of prey. It assumes a variety of phases
under peculiar _vinous_ influences. A gentleman, in whose veracity and
experience we have the most unlimited confidence, for a series of years
kept an account of the phenomena of his own knocker; and by his permission
the following extracts are now submitted to the public:--
1840.
Nov. 12--Dined with Captain ----. Capital spread--exquisite
_liqueurs_--magnificent wines--unparalleled cigars--drank _my_
four bottles--should have made it five, but found I had eaten
something which disagreed with me--Home at four.
_State of Knocker_.--Jumping up and down the surface of the door
like a rope dancer, occasionally diverging into a zig-zag, the
key-hole partaking of the same eccentricities.
Nov. 13.--Supped with Charley B----. Brandy, _genuine
cognac_--Cigars _principe_. ESTIMATED CONSUMPTION: brandy and
water, eighteen glasses--cigars, two dozen--porter with a cabman,
two pots.
_State of Knocker_.--Peripatetic--moved from our house to the
next--remained till it roused the family--returned to its own
door, and became duplicated--wouldn't wake the house-porter till
five.
N.B. Found I had used my own thumb for a sounding-plate, and had
bruised my nail awfully.
Nov. 14.--Devoted the day to soda-water and my tailor's bill--gave
a draught for the amount, and took another on my own account.
Nov. 15.--Lectured by the "governor"--left the house savage--met
the Marquess--got very drunk unconsciously--fancied myself a
merman, and that the gutter in the Haymarket was the
Archipelago--grew preposterous, and felt that I should like to be
run over--thought I was waltzing with Cerito, but found I was
being carried on a stretcher to the station-house--somebody sent
somewhere for bail, and somebody bailed me.
_State of Knocker_.--Very indistinct--then became uncommonly like
the "governor" in his nightcap--_could_ NOT reach it--presume it
was filial affection that prevented me--knocked of its own accord,
no doubt agitated by sympathy--reverberated in my ears all night,
and left me with a confounded head-ache in the morning.
The above examples are sufficient to show the variability of this singular
article.
Formerly the knocker was devoted entirely to the menial occupation of
announcing, by a single dab, or a variation of raps, the desire of persons
on the door-step to communicate with the occupants of the interior of a
mansion. Modern genius has elevated it into a source of refined pleasure
and practical humour, affording at the same time employment to the artisan,
excitement to the gentleman, and broken heads and dislocations of every
variety to the police!
We will now proceed to the details of an event which PUNCH alone is worthy
to record:--
Notice of a meet having been despatched to all the members of the "Knocker
Hunt," a splendid field--no _street_--met at the Cavendish--the hotel of
the hospitable Marquess. The white damask which covered the mahogany was
dotted here and there with rich and invigorating viands; whilst decanters
of port and sherry--jugs of Chateau Margaux--bottles of exhilarating
spirits, and boxes of cigars, agreeably diversified the scene. After a
plentiful but orderly discussion of the "creature comforts," (for all
ebullitions at home are strictly prohibited by the Marquess) it was
proposed to _draw_ St. James's Square. This suggestion was, however,
abandoned, as it was reported by Captain Pepperwell, that a party of snobs
had been hunting bell-handles in the same locality, on the preceding night.
Clarges Street was then named; and off we started in that direction, trying
the west end of Jermyn Street and Piccadilly in our way; but, as was
expected, both coverts proved blank. We were almost afraid of the same
result in the Clarges Street gorse; for it was not until we arrived at No.
33, that any one gave tongue. Young Dashover was the first, and clearly and
beautifully came his shrill tone upon the ear, as he exclaimed "Hereth a
knocker--thuch a one, too!" The rush was instantaneous; and in the space of
a moment one feeling seemed to have taken possession of the whole pack. A
more splendid struggle was never witnessed by the oldest knocker-hunter! A
more pertinacious piece of cast-iron never contended against the prowess of
the Corinthian! After a gallant pull of an hour and a half, "the affair
came off," and now graces the club-room of the "Knocker Hunt."
The pack having been called off, were taken to the kennel in the Haymarket,
when one young dog, who had run counter at a bell-handle, was found to be
missing; but the gratifying intelligence was soon brought, that he was safe
in the Vine-street station-house.
The various compounds known as champagne, port, sherry, brandy, &c., having
been very freely distributed, Captain Pepperwell made a proposition that
will so intimately connect his name with that of the immortal Marquess,
that, like the twin-born of Jupiter and Leda, to mention one will be to
imply the other.
Having obtained silence by throwing a quart measure at the waiter, he
wriggled himself into an upright position, and in a voice tremulous from
emotion--perhaps brandy, said--
"Gentlemen of--the Knocker Hunt--there are times when a man can't make--a
speech without con-considerable inconvenience to himself--that's my case at
the present moment--but my admiration for the distinguished foun--der of
the Knocker Hunt--compels me--to stand as well as I can--and propose, that
as soon as we have knockers enough--they be melted down--by some other
respectable founder, and cast into a statue of--the Marquess of Waterford!"
Deafening were the cheers which greeted the gallant captain! A meeting of
ladies has since been held, at which resolutions were passed for the
furtherance of so desirable an object, and a committee formed for the
selection of a design worthy of the originator of the Knocker Hunt. To that
committee we now appeal.
[Illustration:
TO HENRY, MARQUESS OF WATERFORD,
AND HIS JOLLY COMPANIONS IN LOWE,
THIS STATUE OF ACHILLES,
CAST FROM KNOCKERS TAKEN IN THE VICINITIES
OF SACKVILLE-STREET, VIGO-LANE, AND WATERLOO-PLACE,
IS INSCRIBED
BY THEIR GENTLEWOMEN.
PLACED ON THIS SPOT
ON THE FIRST DAY OF APRIL, MDCCCXLII.
BY COMMAND OF
COLONEL ROWAN.]
_Mem_. The hunt meet again on Monday next, as information has been
received that a splendid knocker occupies the door of Laing's shooting
gallery in the Haymarket.
* * * * *
STENOTYPOGRAPHY.
Our _printer's devil_, with a laudable anxiety for our success, has
communicated the following pathetic story. As a specimen of
stenotypography, or compositor's short-hand, we consider it _unique_.
SERAPHINA POPPS;
OR, THE BEAUTY OF BLOOMSBURY.
Seraphina Popps was the daughter of Mr. Hezekiah Popps, a highly
respectable pawnbroker, residing in ---- Street, Bloomsbury. Being an only
child, from her earliest infancy she wanted for 0, as everything had been
made ready to her [Symbol: hand hand].
She grew up as most little girls do, who live long enough, and became the
universal ![1] of all who knew her, for
"None but herself could be her ||."[2]
Amongst the most devoted of her admirers was Julian Fitzorphandale.
Seraphina was not insensible to the worth of Julian Fitzorphandale; and
when she received from him a letter, asking permission to visit her, she
felt some difficulty in replying to his ?[3]; for, at this very critical
.[4], an unamiable young man, named Augustus St. Tomkins, who possessed
considerable L. _s._ _d._ had become a suitor for her [Symbol: hand]. She
loved Fitzorphandale +[5] St. Tomkins, but the former was [Symbol: empty]
of money; and Seraphina, though sensitive to an extreme, was fully aware
that a competency was a very comfortable "appendix."
She seized her pen, but found that her mind was all 6's and 7's. She spelt
Fitzorphandale, P-h-i-t-z; and though she commenced ¶[6] after ¶, she never
could come to a "finis." She upbraided her unlucky * *, either for making
Fitzorphandale so poor, or St. Tomkins so ugly, which he really was. In
this dilemma we must leave her at present.
Although Augustus St. Tomkins was a [Symbol: Freemason][7], he did not
possess the universal benevolence which that ancient order inculcates; but
revolving in his mind the probable reasons for Seraphina's hesitation, he
came to this conclusion: she either loved him -[8] somebody else, or she
did not love him at all. This conviction only X[9] his worst feelings, and
he resolved that no [Symbol: scruple scruple][10] of conscience should
stand between him and his desires.
On the following day, Fitzorphandale had invited Seraphina to a pic-nic
party. He had opened the &[11] placed some boiled beef and ^^[12] on the
verdant grass, when Seraphina exclaimed, in the mildest ``''[13], "I like
it well done, Fitzorphandale!"
As Julian proceeded to supply his beloved one with a Sec.[14]
of the provender, St. Tomkins stood before them with a [Symbol: dagger][15]
in his [Symbol: hand].
Want of space compels us to leave the conclusion of this interesting
romance to the imagination of the reader, and to those ingenious
playwrights who so liberally supply our most popular authors with
gratuitous catastrophes.
NOTES BY THE FLY-BOY.
1. Admiration. 2. Parallel. 3. Note of Interrogation. 4. Period.
5. More than. 6. Paragraph. 7. Freemason. 8. Less than.
9. Multiplied. 10. Scruples. 11. Hampers-and. 12. Carets.
13. Accents. 14. Section. 15. Dagger.
* * * * *
NEWS OF EXTRAORDINARY INTEREST.
A mechanic in Berlin has invented a balance of extremely delicate
construction. Sir Robert Peel, it is said, intends to avail himself of the
invention, to keep his political principles so nicely balanced between Whig
and Tory, that the most accurate observer shall be unable to tell which way
they tend.
The London Fire Brigade have received directions to hold themselves in
readiness at the meeting of Parliament, to extinguish any conflagration
that may take place, from the amazing quantity of inflammatory speeches and
political fireworks that will be let off by the performers on both sides of
the house.
The following extraordinary inducement was held out by a solicitor, who
advertised last week in a morning paper, for an office-clerk; "A small
salary will be given, but he will have enough of _over-work_ to make up for
the deficiency."
* * * * *
"MORE WAYS THAN ONE," &c.
The incomplete state of the Treasury has been frequently lamented by all
lovers of good taste. We are happy to announce that a tablet is about to be
placed in the front of the building, with the following inscription:--
TREASURY.
FINISHED BY THE WIGS,
ANNO DOM. MDCCCXLI.
* * * * *
A CON. BY TOM COOKE.
Why is the common chord in music like a portion of the
Mediterranean?--Because it's the E G & C (AEgean Sea).
* * * * *
[ILLUSTRATION]
MONSIEUR JULLIEN.
"One!"--crash!
"Two!"--clash!
"Three!"--dash!
"Four!"--smash!
Diminuendo,
Now crescendo:--
Thus play the furious band,
Led by the kid-gloved hand
Of Jullien--that Napoleon of quadrille,
Of Piccolo-nians shrillest of the shrill;
Perspiring raver
Over a semi-quaver;
Who tunes his pipes so well, he'll tell you that
The natural key of Johnny Bull's--A flat.
Demon of discord, with mustaches cloven--
Arch impudent _improver_ of Beethoven--
Tricksy professor of _charlatanerie_--
Inventor of musical artillery--
Barbarous rain and thunder maker--
Unconscionable money taker--
Travelling about both near and far,
Toll to exact at every _bar_--
What brings thee here again,
To desecrate old Drury's fane?
Egregious attitudiniser!
Antic fifer! com'st to advise her
'Gainst intellect and sense to close her walls?
To raze her benches,
That Gallic wenches
Might play their brazen antics at masked balls?
_Ci-devant_ waiter
Of a _quarante-sous traiteur_,
Why did you leave your stew-pans and meat-oven,
To make a fricassee of the great Beet-hoven?
And whilst your piccolos unceasing squeak on,
Saucily serve Mozart with _sauce-piquant_;
Mawkishly cast your eyes to the cerulean--
Turn Matthew Locke to _potage a la julienne_!
Go! go! sir, do,
Back to the _rue_,
Where lately you
Waited upon each hungry feeder,
Playing the _garcon_, not the leader.
Pray, put your hat on,
_Coupez votre baton._
Bah
_Va!!_
* * * * *
CLAR' DE KITCHEN.
It is now pretty well understood, that if the Tories come into office,
there will be a regular turn out of the present royal household. Her
Majesty, through the gracious condescension of the new powers, will be
permitted to retain her situation in the royal establishment, but on the
express condition that there shall be--
[ILLUSTRATION: NO FOLLOWERS ALLOWED.]
* * * * *
A PARTY OF MEDALLERS.
A subscription has been opened for a medal to commemorate the return of
Lord John Russell for the city of London. We would suggest that his speech
to the citizens against the corn-laws would form an appropriate inscription
for the face of the medal, while that to the Huntingdonshire farmers in
favour of them would be found just the thing for the _reverse_.
* * * * *
A CHAPTER ON BOOTS.
"Boots? Boots!" Yes, Boots! we can write upon boots--we can moralise upon
boots; we can convert them, as _Jacques_ does the weeping stag in "As You
Like It," (or, whether you like it or not,) into a thousand similes. First,
for--but, "our _sole's_ in arms and eager for the fray," and so we will at
once head our dissertation as we would a warrior's host with
[Illustration]
WELLINGTONS.
These are the most judicious species of manufactured calf-skin; like their
great "godfather," they are perfect as a whole; from the binding at the top
to the finish at the toe, there is a beautiful unity about their
well-conceived proportions: kindly considerate of the calf, amiably
inclined to the instep, and devotedly serviceable to the whole foot, they
shed their protecting influence over all they encase. They are walked about
in not only as protectors of the feet, but of the honour of the wearer.
Quarrel with a man if you like, let your passion get its steam up even to
blood-heat, be magnificent while glancing at your adversary's Brutus, grand
as you survey his chin, heroic at the last button of his waistcoat,
unappeased at the very knees of his superior kersey continuations,
inexorable at the commencement of his straps, and about to become abusive
at his shoe-ties, the first cooler of your wrath will be the Hoby-like
arched instep of his genuine Wellingtons, which, even as a drop of oil upon
the troubled ocean, will extend itself over the heretofore ruffled surface
of your temper.--Now for
[Illustration]
BLUCHERS.
Well, we don't like them. They are shocking impostors--walking discomforts!
They had no right to be made at all; or, if made, 'twas a sin for them to
be so christened (are Bluchers Christians?).
They are Wellingtons cut down; so, in point of genius, was their baptismal
sponsor: but these are _vilely tied_, and that the hardy old Prussian would
never have been while body and soul held together. He was no beauty, but
these are decidedly ugly commodities, chiefly tenanted by swell purveyors
of cat's-meat, and burly-looking prize-fighters. They have the _fortiter in
re_ for kicking, but not the _suaviter in modo_ for corns. Look at them
villanously treed out at the "Noah's Ark" and elsewhere; what are they but
eight-and-six-penny worth of discomfort! They will no more accommodate a
decent foot than the old general would have turned his back in a charge, or
cut off his grizzled mustachios. If it wasn't for the look of the thing,
one might as well shove one's foot into a box-iron. We wouldn't be the man
that christened them, and take a trifle to meet the fighting old marshal,
even in a world of peace; in short, they are ambulating humbugs, and the
would-be respectables that wear 'em are a huge fraternity of "false
pretenders." Don't trust 'em, reader; they are sure to do you! there's
deceit in their straps, prevarication in their trousers, and connivance in
their distended braces. We never met but one exception to the above
rule--it was John Smith. Every reader has a friend of the name of John
Smith--in confidence, that _is_ the man. We would have sworn by him; in
fact, we did swear by him, for ten long years he was our oracle. Never
shall we forget the first, the only time our faith was shaken. We gazed
upon and loved his honest face; we reciprocated the firm pressure of his
manly grasp; our eyes descended in admiration even unto the ground on which
he stood, and there, upon that very ground--the ground whose upward growth
of five feet eight seemed Heaven's boast, an "honest man"--we saw what
struck us sightless to all else--a pair of Bluchers!