Punch: Punch (36.1859)

148

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

[April 9, 1869.

QUEER COMPANY.

The Manchester Guardian of Friday last announces,
amongst the visitors at the Adelphi Hotel, Liverpool,
King Peppel, of Bonny, an extensive district on the
coast of Western Africa. His Majesty, though exceed-
ingly dark, is described as a tall, good-looking man of
about fifty. He is accompanied by his nephew, an ebony
youth of about twenty. But the odd thing about the
party is contained in the announcement, that " they are
accompanied by Mr. Thwaites, a gentleman connected
with the Sewerage Commissioners of London."

Can this be our excellent friend, the Chairman of the
Metropolitan Commission ? What can the respected
Thwaites be doing, as bear-leader to the sable Sovereign
of Bonny and Ms Black Prince ? Is he putting the ebony
potentate through a course of sewers, as an essential
element in the education of a tropical sovereign reigning
over a country where fever is en permanence, and glazed
pipes are unknown ? Or is he trying to get a wrinkle
from the Bonny monarch, how to keep down the blacks—
another word for suppressing the smoke nuisance ? Or
has he been invested with the office of introducing this
nigger King to civilisation through the channel of the
Main Sewerage of London, as the darkest avenue by
which it can be approached ?

We feel that the matter ought to be explained. What
is Thwaites about with the King of Bonny ! What is
Thwaites doing away from Greek Street, Soho, at this
interesting moment, when the Great Metropolitan Main
Sewerage Scheme is on the tapis—or under the tapis,
rather ? In shorty we would ask, a la Richard the Third
(slightly altered, a la Charles Kean) :—

" What does he in the North,
When he should mind his sewerage in the South."

National Characteristics.

An Englishman can differ without having a difference ;
whereas an Irishman frequently has a difference without

AN UNEXPECTED PLEASURE—BETTER LATE THAN NEVER, in the least differing. The Scotchman has the rare power

ol combining both qualities. JNot only can he diner, but
" Hoorah ! Bill, here's Winter at last ! " he will have his difference also.

THE CAT FOR ALL CAITIFFS, Oil NONE.

Punch is half ashamed of ever having cast the Knout into the teeth
of the late Emperor of Russia, blessed Nicholas. Why? By
reason of the subjoined piece of news—which, however, when it
appeared in the Morning Papers, imparted no doubt, a high zest to
the breakfast of the more manly of their readers, who scorn mawkish
sentiment and maudlin philanthropy:—

" Royal Marine Flogged at Chatham. —In compliance with a regimental
order issued on Tuesday morning by Colonel Parkkr, Commandant of the
Chatham division of Royal Marine Light Infantry, the whole of the battalion, with
their officers, assembled at the rear of the barracks under arms, under command of
Major G. B. Rodney. The troops having formed a square, Lieutenant and Adju-
tant Taylor read the proceedings of a court-martial held at Chatham Barracks, on
Private John Howson, No. 6 Company, who was tried on two charges : first, for
being absent without leave, he being under confinement for a former offence ; second,
for striking a sergeant of the 3'2nd Regiment, on duty with a picket, who succeeded
in bringing the prisoner into barracks."

These were high military crimes and misdemeanours—aggravated by
the fact that the prior offence was a second one. They possibly
deserved the punishment of a felon—they received another :—

" He was found guilty, and sentenced to receive fifty lashes, and to be further
punished by fifty-six days hard labour in the military prison, Fort Clarence. The
prisoner when pinioned to the halberts, received his punishment on the bare back
with considerable fortitude. Although the flesh was blackened by the lash lie never
flinched. After the punishment the prisoner was removed to Melville Hospital.
The prisoner has been tried by two etiurts-martial before."

Punch will suppose that a spectacle of torture mav be a very whole-
some exhibition, calculated to terrify the evil-disposed, and to disgust
nobody but sentimental spooneys. Then why confine the benefit of
this salutary discipline to the Armv—and the Navy P Old military
iogies, who probably enjoyed the sight of a flogging, and would have
been still better pleased to see a man's limbs broken on the wheel,
than to behold his flesh blackened by the lash, predicted that the
limitation of military torture to fifty lashes would destroy the dis-
cipline of the Army. The character of the Army has since vastlv
improved, there seems, therefore, to be the reverse of any special
reason tor the continuance of flogging in the Army, beyond a military

old woman's fondness for her cat. Accordingly, why not flog civilian
scoundrels ? If the severest flagellation of one fraudulent banker
would save one poor honest soul the loss of livehhood, and reduction
to beggary, flog the fraudulent banker—if necessary, to death. Elog
the ruffian who cruelly beats and bruises his wife, if thereby you can
protect other women from the like violence. But your ruffian, and
even your fraudulent banker, will be too deeply degraded, we are told,
if they are lashed like hounds. Is there anything particular in the
military character which renders the degradation of a soldier impossible
or unimportant ? Let all gallant officers who are of this opinion hold
up their hands for Flogging in the Army.

POETICAL ECONOMY.

Were we all working-men, where would all of us find room?
If we were all producers, all the produce how consume ?
And what would be the fate of Art, and Literature's doom ?

If some must consume that the others niay produce,

Eor enjoying good things there's a capital excuse,

And that's the way how I should like to make myself of use.

Some landlords and fundholders clearly there must be,

On rent and on dividends subsisting labour-free,

And a mortgage upon industry would be just the thing for me!

ii Party Cry.

The childish interruption that spoilt the effect of Lord Stanley's
speech on the Reform Bill has led to the inscription " Children in
arms are not admitted " being placed over the Ladies' Gallery in
the House of Commons.

Sad it is, when Eate kindles the funeral pile of Hcpe, thai Remorse
should bring the torch.—Jean Paul Bedford.