DOI issue:
July to December, 1847
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16545#0111
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
99
PIZARRO'S PORTRAIT.
The question, " Shall Pizarro have a portrait ? " has heen answered
by Mr. Bentley, in the affirmative; and "Where are we to get
hold of his authentic likeness ? " is the next thing to be asked. Our
only notion of Pizarro is such as we have seen him represented
on the stage by the fifth-rate heavy man of a theatrical company,
or drawn from life, though in very reduced circumstances, in the
portrait gallery of Pitts, whose marble warehouse rivals the Elgins
m popularity if not in general esteem. Pizarro, as far as we can
recollect his features, had a somewhat brick-dusty complexion, with
lamp-black whiskers, mustachios rivalling Day and Martin in their
jetness, and a wig that put the luxuriant worsted fringe of our bedroom
window curtains to shame. In costume Pizarro was something
between the old Roman, the medieval Scotchman, and the modern dust-
man, having the helmet of the first, the tunic of the second, with the
shorts and highlows of the third. His splendid declaration to Elvira,
" I once loved yer, but now I hate yer," as we always found the line
run in the Victoria version, has stamped Pizarro in our memory ; nor
shall we ever forget Mr. Somebody in the character, turning to Mr.
Somebodyelse sarcastically (who was playing Alonzo), and calling- him
(Mr. Somebodyelse), "boy." In our juvenile simplicity we thought he
must be a postboy at least; for, except in front of one of Newman's
chaises, we had never seen such a " boy " before.
We are sure that Mr. Anybody will facilitate the Pizarro portrait
project, by calling up the recollection of some faithful representative of
the part.
OVERDOING IT.
A celebrated quack who professes to cure bad legs of fifty years'
standing—by the bye they can't be so very bad if they have stood for
fifty years—with a pill that turns the weakest calf into the strongest
pillar, has gone a little too far in one of his recent advertisements,
which describes an old lady as having become w. inmate of two hos-
ltals, with two bad legs. Surely the weakest understanding will not
e taken in by such an assertion as this; for though poor Ducrow
rode as courier to St. Petersburgh on five horses at once, there is no
old lady that could become an inmate of two separate hospitals at
once, that her two bad legs might experience medical treatment simul-
taneously from different hands. Our friend of the pills and ointment
has, to use a "fast" term—by the bye "fast" means a great rapidity
in appropriating other people's jokes and ideas—has, we say, to use a
last" term—yes, the joke is old enough, even for that—has, we
repeat, put his foot in it at last.
on the right road.
It is said that General Pavia may exercise a salutary influence on
e fortunes of Spain. Baron Alderson recommends, and Knight
arjCE is " of the same opinion," that the first step General Paviour
(or Pavia) should take is to get the whole people to mend their ways.
PROFANE SWEARING.
Everybody knows "the nature of an oath." Indeed it is amazin*
how this part of education is attended to when all the rest of the field
lies fallow. We have brought the oath to everybody's door. Every office
is ushered in by swearing. Oxford undergraduates and Cambridge
bachelors, obese aldermen and wasp-waisted ensigns, attorneys as they
chip the cockatrice egg, and barristers when they have eaten their last
dinner, all start with a most ponderous and tremendous batch of oaths,
which are bowled out by the dispensers and bolted by the patients,
like Morison's pills, in handfuls.
Punch was presiding the other day, in his capacity of honorary
Bencher, at an Inn of Court not a hundred miles from Temple Bar,
when some thirty ingenuous youths were passed from the twilight of
studentship to the utter darkness of barristerhood.
There was a big burly sort of serving-man, who served out the oath
in small portions, with a ridiculous and irreverent voice. The little
bits of the oath were then bolted by the young men with the most
waargish relish, thus :—
Vicarious Oath-taking Usher. " I do swear, that I do from my heart
abhor, detest, and abjure,"
Student {being called to the. Bar). "I do swear (grin), that I do from
my heart abhor (grin), detest (titter), and abjure," (louder titter). _
V. 0. U. "As impious and heretical, that d-ble doctrine and
position."
S. "As impious (grin) and heretical (fitter), that d-ble (grin) doc-
! trine and position."
V. 0. U. " That princes excommunicated or deposed by the Pope, or
! any authority of t he see of Rome, may be deposed or murdered by their
subjects, or any other whatsoever."
S. (with the keenest sense of the absurdity of the whole affair, and half-
< ashamed, half-amused). "That Princes," &c.—(grin getting wider, and
' beginning to extend to the Benchers)—may be deposed," &c. (This crowning
■ clause smallowed with a most enormous spirit offun and burlesque!)
We were not much edified by this ceremony. It seemed to us, on the
whole, one of the most hollow and dead shams we ever suffered under.
No doubt the thing had a significance once, but it is nothing now.
Why, then, invoke that tremendous sanction_to what is utterly dead,
without meaning, vanished? It is like bringing a 58-pounder to bear
on Colonel Sibtiiorpe.
The exquisite absurditv of the thing is this : The oath was intended
to exclude from offices Roman Catholics, and Roman Catholics only.
But Roman Catholics are no longer obliged to take it. The Emancipa-
tion Act gave them something in its stead, more palatable^ and less
offensive. Why, then, in the name of common sense, administer to
quiet, decent, orthodox Protestants, this tremendous adjuration, ab-
horrence and detestation of what they never could have believed by
any human possibility: it is awful irony. On these grounds we venture
to propose a change of oath to our excellent brother-benchers. What
if the incipient barrister, instead of superfluously abjuring what nobody
believes, were to swear to its effect ?
" I, A.B., do swear that I from my heart abjure &c, that d-ble,
&c. doctrine, that a gentleman with a wig on his head, and a gown on
his back, may say and do for a guinea, what without them he would
neither say nor do for any earthly consideration.
"And further, I do abjure, &c , that it is the_ barrister's function to
pervert truth, bully innocence, and protect guilt. And further, I do
abjure, &c, that all causes are good which I may be paid to defend;
and that fees have the mystic and wonderful property of turning bad
to good, falsehood to truth, and black to white," &c.
THE DISAPPOINTED DUKES.
Testimonials to various rejected candidates at the late election, are
m course of being raised by subscription. Really these proceedings
remind us of the custom of assuaging infant sorrows with comfits.
There is one class, however, of electioneering little sufferers, that has
been left utterly disconsolate. We allude to the noble dukes and
lords, whose hopes of returning their nominees have been blighted.
Is there nobody who will _ give the Duke oe Beaufort something
nice to comfort him under his defeat in the return of Lord Granville
Somerset at Monmouth ? Has no kind constituency a sweetmeat for
the Duke op Northumberland, to take away the taste of bitterness
which he must experience from the rejection of his nephew, Lord Lo-
vaine ?
Then there is Lord Eitzhardinge too, who has lost his puppet, and
been beaten by his brother Grantley Berkeley. Are there no good
souls in West Gloucestershire who will find a toy to make his Lordship
amends ? Are all these poor noblemen to be left, unpitied, to bite the
thumb of discontent ?
99
PIZARRO'S PORTRAIT.
The question, " Shall Pizarro have a portrait ? " has heen answered
by Mr. Bentley, in the affirmative; and "Where are we to get
hold of his authentic likeness ? " is the next thing to be asked. Our
only notion of Pizarro is such as we have seen him represented
on the stage by the fifth-rate heavy man of a theatrical company,
or drawn from life, though in very reduced circumstances, in the
portrait gallery of Pitts, whose marble warehouse rivals the Elgins
m popularity if not in general esteem. Pizarro, as far as we can
recollect his features, had a somewhat brick-dusty complexion, with
lamp-black whiskers, mustachios rivalling Day and Martin in their
jetness, and a wig that put the luxuriant worsted fringe of our bedroom
window curtains to shame. In costume Pizarro was something
between the old Roman, the medieval Scotchman, and the modern dust-
man, having the helmet of the first, the tunic of the second, with the
shorts and highlows of the third. His splendid declaration to Elvira,
" I once loved yer, but now I hate yer," as we always found the line
run in the Victoria version, has stamped Pizarro in our memory ; nor
shall we ever forget Mr. Somebody in the character, turning to Mr.
Somebodyelse sarcastically (who was playing Alonzo), and calling- him
(Mr. Somebodyelse), "boy." In our juvenile simplicity we thought he
must be a postboy at least; for, except in front of one of Newman's
chaises, we had never seen such a " boy " before.
We are sure that Mr. Anybody will facilitate the Pizarro portrait
project, by calling up the recollection of some faithful representative of
the part.
OVERDOING IT.
A celebrated quack who professes to cure bad legs of fifty years'
standing—by the bye they can't be so very bad if they have stood for
fifty years—with a pill that turns the weakest calf into the strongest
pillar, has gone a little too far in one of his recent advertisements,
which describes an old lady as having become w. inmate of two hos-
ltals, with two bad legs. Surely the weakest understanding will not
e taken in by such an assertion as this; for though poor Ducrow
rode as courier to St. Petersburgh on five horses at once, there is no
old lady that could become an inmate of two separate hospitals at
once, that her two bad legs might experience medical treatment simul-
taneously from different hands. Our friend of the pills and ointment
has, to use a "fast" term—by the bye "fast" means a great rapidity
in appropriating other people's jokes and ideas—has, we say, to use a
last" term—yes, the joke is old enough, even for that—has, we
repeat, put his foot in it at last.
on the right road.
It is said that General Pavia may exercise a salutary influence on
e fortunes of Spain. Baron Alderson recommends, and Knight
arjCE is " of the same opinion," that the first step General Paviour
(or Pavia) should take is to get the whole people to mend their ways.
PROFANE SWEARING.
Everybody knows "the nature of an oath." Indeed it is amazin*
how this part of education is attended to when all the rest of the field
lies fallow. We have brought the oath to everybody's door. Every office
is ushered in by swearing. Oxford undergraduates and Cambridge
bachelors, obese aldermen and wasp-waisted ensigns, attorneys as they
chip the cockatrice egg, and barristers when they have eaten their last
dinner, all start with a most ponderous and tremendous batch of oaths,
which are bowled out by the dispensers and bolted by the patients,
like Morison's pills, in handfuls.
Punch was presiding the other day, in his capacity of honorary
Bencher, at an Inn of Court not a hundred miles from Temple Bar,
when some thirty ingenuous youths were passed from the twilight of
studentship to the utter darkness of barristerhood.
There was a big burly sort of serving-man, who served out the oath
in small portions, with a ridiculous and irreverent voice. The little
bits of the oath were then bolted by the young men with the most
waargish relish, thus :—
Vicarious Oath-taking Usher. " I do swear, that I do from my heart
abhor, detest, and abjure,"
Student {being called to the. Bar). "I do swear (grin), that I do from
my heart abhor (grin), detest (titter), and abjure," (louder titter). _
V. 0. U. "As impious and heretical, that d-ble doctrine and
position."
S. "As impious (grin) and heretical (fitter), that d-ble (grin) doc-
! trine and position."
V. 0. U. " That princes excommunicated or deposed by the Pope, or
! any authority of t he see of Rome, may be deposed or murdered by their
subjects, or any other whatsoever."
S. (with the keenest sense of the absurdity of the whole affair, and half-
< ashamed, half-amused). "That Princes," &c.—(grin getting wider, and
' beginning to extend to the Benchers)—may be deposed," &c. (This crowning
■ clause smallowed with a most enormous spirit offun and burlesque!)
We were not much edified by this ceremony. It seemed to us, on the
whole, one of the most hollow and dead shams we ever suffered under.
No doubt the thing had a significance once, but it is nothing now.
Why, then, invoke that tremendous sanction_to what is utterly dead,
without meaning, vanished? It is like bringing a 58-pounder to bear
on Colonel Sibtiiorpe.
The exquisite absurditv of the thing is this : The oath was intended
to exclude from offices Roman Catholics, and Roman Catholics only.
But Roman Catholics are no longer obliged to take it. The Emancipa-
tion Act gave them something in its stead, more palatable^ and less
offensive. Why, then, in the name of common sense, administer to
quiet, decent, orthodox Protestants, this tremendous adjuration, ab-
horrence and detestation of what they never could have believed by
any human possibility: it is awful irony. On these grounds we venture
to propose a change of oath to our excellent brother-benchers. What
if the incipient barrister, instead of superfluously abjuring what nobody
believes, were to swear to its effect ?
" I, A.B., do swear that I from my heart abjure &c, that d-ble,
&c. doctrine, that a gentleman with a wig on his head, and a gown on
his back, may say and do for a guinea, what without them he would
neither say nor do for any earthly consideration.
"And further, I do abjure, &c , that it is the_ barrister's function to
pervert truth, bully innocence, and protect guilt. And further, I do
abjure, &c, that all causes are good which I may be paid to defend;
and that fees have the mystic and wonderful property of turning bad
to good, falsehood to truth, and black to white," &c.
THE DISAPPOINTED DUKES.
Testimonials to various rejected candidates at the late election, are
m course of being raised by subscription. Really these proceedings
remind us of the custom of assuaging infant sorrows with comfits.
There is one class, however, of electioneering little sufferers, that has
been left utterly disconsolate. We allude to the noble dukes and
lords, whose hopes of returning their nominees have been blighted.
Is there nobody who will _ give the Duke oe Beaufort something
nice to comfort him under his defeat in the return of Lord Granville
Somerset at Monmouth ? Has no kind constituency a sweetmeat for
the Duke op Northumberland, to take away the taste of bitterness
which he must experience from the rejection of his nephew, Lord Lo-
vaine ?
Then there is Lord Eitzhardinge too, who has lost his puppet, and
been beaten by his brother Grantley Berkeley. Are there no good
souls in West Gloucestershire who will find a toy to make his Lordship
amends ? Are all these poor noblemen to be left, unpitied, to bite the
thumb of discontent ?