Punch (16.1849)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

HOMICIDE FAIR.

"The Fair is held immediately contiguous to the Castle, the prison in which the
murderer, Rush, is confined. Drums, trumpets, and other instruments have been in full
play all day, whilst the most boisterous sounds of revelry proceed from the degraded
people who are its principal supporters."—Observer.

he Tradesman of the Observer
—a Royal print, as declared
by the owner, with lively sym-
pathies (price Qd. with a Sup-
plement) in any case of horrid

profit, but can trade upon the innocent creatures, whose undeserved
curse it is to be related to him. " A rumour was circulated to-day,"
says Observer, "that Rush's eldest daughter was dying of the shock."
The rumour was false; but Observer has here the advantage of the
Showman; for rumour, as well as truth, helps to fill a supplement.
Indeed, nothing of Rush, but what doth suffer profitable change in the
till of Observer. " At times "—says the proprietor of the booth in the
Strand—" at times he whistles !"

And in these days to think that letters should flourish in a murderer's
dungeon ! For Observer speaks of a bookseller who proposes to " offer
Rush that he will give £500 to each of his children, if he will write a
• . ^ . _ m. -t i history of his life, in order to its publication in the form of a volume."
muraer—the bunday |rac^s" i Tor the proper dignity of literature, it would of course be necessary to
man is atiectingly touched by respite Rush ; unless the bookseller, complimenting the genius of the

assassin, believes a fortnight time sufficient for the composition of a
volume. Surely this is a shocking Curiosity of Literature, that a murderer
on his road to the gallows should be waylaid by a publisher. What art
the prison regulations at Norwich ?

But in every way the reputation of Rush is to be made a familiar
household matter. Madame Tussaud, as the allowed old clotheswoman
of the exalted and the infamous, has made—says Observer—an offer
" for the purchase of Rush's disguises on the night of the murder.'
Very right.

" There's shillings in the web of 'em."

the revelries of Norwich Fair,
a Fair " held immediately con-
tiguous to the Castle, the pri-
son in which the murderer,
Rush, is confined." As small
members of the most enlight-
ened Press of the world, we
felt a pleasurable thrill com-
municated by the emotion of
our high-minded and large-
hearted contemporary. For he
disdains to turn a penny upon

A profitable investment in the loathsome, for the laudable curiositv

homicide; he will not seek for sixpences in the murderer's cell; he 0f an enliuhtened people !_ Push—having bccm duly canonised b

will not grope for profit among the nasty doings of Potash. No; he
washes his hands of all such abomination; and then, specially cleansed
for the occasion, raises them towards heaven, with a delicate mixture
of pity and disgust of " the degraded people," who beat drums and
blow trumpets at Murder Fair.

The philanthropist of the Observer, with all his sublimated goodness,
is, nevertheless, a little weak ; it may be, a little arrogant. We fear he
shares somewhat of the pride too apt to swell the London tradesman,
making the metropolitan merchant regard with contemptuous, exacting
looks, the country dealer. Surely, this should not be. Because the
Observer has a brick shop in the Strand, for the sale of the portrait of a
murderer, with the very latest gossip of the condemned cell,—should
the "itinerant showman," with his hired representative of Rush, and
drum and trumpet for prefatory flourish,—should he, the humble vendor
of excitement, be sternly rebuked by the tradesman householder?

Observer—has earned his rightful niche in the Chamber of Horrors
The Sunday print having traded upon the portrait of the incarnatf
devil, the murderer's clothes become a proper pennyworth for the
Showwoman. They, too, are tangible things, and will keep alive the
memory of Kusu when, possibly, even the columns of Observer shall be
forgotten, though still fraught and fragrant with the wisdom and
religion developed by a contemplation of the Norfolk horror.

Observer, having employed his own reporters—C'On Good Frida\
our reporters visited the scene of the late atrocious assassinations,",!---
having, with the best industry of thrift, made the most of every cir-
cumstance, even of the times when Rush " whistles,"—Observer,
having accepted the wood-cut of the murderer, as an excellent likeness,
and a beautiful, suggestive piece of art, for Sabbath circles,—Observer,
dismissing every thought of van and poster, sits down to moralise upon
the profitable atrocity. " When better days shall dawn upon society,

Drums, trumpets, and other instruments," says the Observer, with humanity will recoil with horror from the details of the act.
one tear rolling down his nose, " have been in full play all day, whilst think so too. Better days will come. Days, when the Observer oi
the most boisterous sounds of revelry proceed from the degraded the time will not be permitted to drive his van, and advertise his
people who are its principal supporters." Very bad ; and very saddening ' account of the murder, and the murderer's doings, with the murderer'-

this, for Christian men; that atrocity should be turned into profit;
that the curse of blood should be made to coin blood-money. In such
sense drums and trumpets are noisy abominations ; rumbling blatant

portrait, for the Sunday contemplation of Christian families. In the
better day " the newspaper trader upon assassination, the newspapci
artist to the condemned cell—will, if he exist at all, take rank with the

devils, proclaiming a filthy market. Now, it is otherwise with the booth \ poor creature who represents Rush as Pantaloon ; with the Showman,
in the Strand. _ Observer beats no drum—blows no trumpet: no ; with : who, amid the din of drum and trumpet, calls upon a crowd of clowns
a truer sense of the dignity of his calling, he sends forth some half dozen [ —the prim Observer's " degraded people "—" to walk up and see the
vans to mingle, all day long, in the stream of daily pleasure and daily Murder !" In the present time, we see only this difference between
commerce, to tell the lounger and the man of business that the " Mur-1 " Itinerant Showman" and Observer; the one exhibits in a country
derer(RusH "—" The Fullest Account"—" The Latest Particular's"—, booth; the other bills from a London house. In the booth, you have*
with "Portrait of the Assassin"—that all this, and very much more, j Rush as Pantaloon ; in the newspaper office, Rush in plain clothes,
wdll be given by Observer (price 6c/.) on the Sunday ! j The Pantaloon is a disgusting object; but the wood-cut is fine art for

_ Observer, lamenting the atrocities of Murder Fair, says " the exhibi-1 families.

tion was or the most disgraceful character." Moreover, " an application ' And Brown, Jones, and Robinson — excellent people! — would
was made to the magistrates to put down the disgraceful exhibition, and, shudder at the thought of disbursing a penny to behold Rush as
after some consideration, they declined to interfere." In the like , Pantaloon; but they will give sixpence to possess him as Observer.
manner that Sib, Petdr Laurie would stop Observer's van, though, \ And so it will be, until the press be all teachers, and none panders ; in
as in the case of Observer's humble rivals, the authorities have the " better day" all innocently yearned for by Observer.
hitherto declined to interfere. " In the next show," says Observer, " is
a pantomime, in which Mr. J. B. Rush figures as Pantaloon." This is,
certainly, an unwarrantable liberty even with such a devd as Rush.
Now Observer respects the courtesies of refined life, and when he sells THE FLOWER OF THE ENGLISH IN FRANCE,

the portrait of a murderer, sells the homicide in plain clothes—even m

the habit that he wore. "The exhibition," says Observer, "is one of A- Rose, as all readers of Shakspeare well know, would be equally
the most revolting character, but at the same time the most remunerative odoriferous under any other appellation; but still, it would be a pity it
in the fair." Even as thrifty, but no less philosophic Observer, with a disagreeable or unpleasant name were applied to a pretty flower. Such
bands in his breeches' pockets, standing at his booth in the Strand, and , a flower had, the other day, a very narrow escape of such a name. Under
jazing at the vans as one by one they departed on their advertising, the heading of " The English m Paris," it is related m the Times that—

Way—even as Observer, With his eye .Upon that monstrous type—-j "Previous to the visit of the English to the Opera Comique on Wednesday evening,
''PORTRAIT OF RUSH"—might, if he Would, muse Confidentially - lt wa3 Pr0Posed by one of tne body that eacn person should take with him to the theatre

to himself, " This placard is of a most revolting character, but will be
the most remunerative for this many a Sabbath."

Thus considered, Observer ought to be more charitable towards his
fellow-tradesmen, the mummers of the Fair. Granted, that "throughout
the Fair the name of the unfortunate man is turned to all sorts of pur-
poses, many of them no less revolting than those just described,"—
nevertheless Observer enjoys a wider latitude—has, by the power of the
press, many more opportunities—(and moreover, has the commercial
vigour to employ them)—than the miserable people who dine upon
' Rush as Pantaloon." Observer can turn not only Rush himself to

a large bouquet of camellias, to throw on the stage, as a tribute to the Actresses. The
proposition was, however, abandoned on the advice of Mb. John Warton, of Stratton
Street, Piccadilly, that 500 bouquets thrown upon the stage would totally prevent the
continuation of the performance."

The idea of shooting a cart-load of Camellias on a stage is as fine a
notion of a compliment as that of emptying a whole tureen of Turtle
Soup over a plate would be of an act of hospitality. The poor Camellia
was within a hair's breadth of being stamped with an ill name for ever.
Had this clownish deed of pantomimic extravagance been perpetrated,
as sure as the Dividends, thenceforward, the Camellia would have been
called the Flower of English Fools.