DOI issue:
July to December, 1850
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16606#0228
220
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
AVERAGE WEIGHT OF THE FOOT GUARDS.
Heavy Swell. "What's the Average Weight of the Men in your
Regiment, Charley ?"
Swell in the Guards. " Don't know, I'm sure—aw—but Ten go to the Ton."
THE DEFENCELESS STATE OF ENGLAND.
The alarm about the unprotected femaleship of poor
Britannia has at last come to a head, Sir Francis having
published a book telling us that London is liable to be
walked into by 150,000 Frenchmen at any hour of the day.
This is a sort of story that is avowedly intended to
stimulate naval preparation, and we therefore recommend
the author at once to " tell it to the marines." We
are quite sure that if 150,000 Frenchmen were to be
seen at the Bricklayers' Arms, the common cry would be
"what are the police about," and Mr. Inspector Some-
body would at once proceed to the Elephant and Castle,
for the purpose of sufficiently manning the said "Elephant,"
and preventing the " Castle" from being taken by storm.
Sir Francis proposes the immediate fortification of
London, in the style of Paris, but really the market
gardeners in the suburbs will tell him we want all our
trenches for our celery, and as to throwing up mounds, we
have quite enough of that in getting ready the beds for
our asparagus.
Wandsworth sleeps soundly enough without the aid of
bastions. Brixton would rise as one man if it were about
to be cut off by a moat from Clapham; and Chelsea, if
threatened with being " loopholed," would find any loop-
hole to get out of the expense.
Kensington would never quietly consent to be encircled
with a rampart, and Hammersmith would fight with its
last shilling against being converted into a fort. Eancy
a drawbridge being pulled up and down at Hyde Park
Corner for the passage of every vehicle, and only conceive
Battersea fil.ted up with a gun battery to enable it to
annihilate Putney, or blow Wandsworth into the water
ar, a given signal. No! No! we are not so silly as to be
frightened by the shaking of a nervous head at us. There
is nothing in it, our elderly female readers may rest
assured.
The Authors of our own Pleasures.
We have received the folio wing from "An Amateur,"
who, we imagine, must have been a contributor to the
defunct Annuals, and other sources of unpaid literature.
" Authors may, indeed, be called the authors of their own
pleasures, for, after all, it must be confessed that there are
few pleasures in this world to be compared to the ecstatic
pleasure the author feels in reading one of his own articles
in print." According to this, no man can have so many
pleasures as the sedulous penny-a-liner, for he sees his
articles in print almost every day of his life.
A FEW WORDS ON OFFICIAL COSTUME.
In these days when puffery with its thousand tongues is calling upon
us to reform our tailor's bills ; when the ten-guinea great coat of
other days is exchanged for tlie five-and twenty-shilling wrap-rascal, or
the pound paletot of the present, we may be excused for saying a few
words on behalf of economy in official costume.
We are cutting down salaries to the minimum ; we are calling upon
public servants to do a double day's work for half-a-day's pay; and yet
official costume remains unreformed, continuing as costly as ever. If
a man is made a serjeant-at-law, though the business is not what it
used to be, the full-bottomed wig is as indispensable as ever, and
costs exactly the same ; so that the coif is now seldom applied for, in
consequence ot the smallness of the chance of profit, and the certain
expence of " dressing for the character."
A Serjeant's wig cuts into an awful amount of horse-hair, and one of
our "learned brethren" having remonstrated the other day with his
wig-maker on the extravagance of his prices, was seriously informed
that a single wig uses up the tails of six animals ; and our friend was
referred to a respectable knacker for a confirmation of the fact. The
ordinary bob-wig of the " utter" will take the best part of a pair of
ponies, and then it must be a very close shave ; while a judge's every-
day head-dress will make a couple of cobs' tails look very foolish, leaving
perhaps just enough to get a coachman's Caxon out of the remains.
It is true that these wigs have come down to us from our forefathers ;
but why should we take their folly upon our own shoulders ? Are we
to curl up the toes of our boots and shoes because our ancestors
did so ?
We ask this question, because it is one that comes directly to the
point. Descending from the wig to the gown, we find extravagance
and absurdity pervading the toga or togerv of the highest judicial
functionaries; and we especially protest against the robe of the Lord
Chancellor, which, we understand, costs several hundred pounds. We
have heard that its costliness, and the time required to make a new
one, will sometimes cause it to be transferred, witli the seals, from
Chancellor to Chancellor, so that the present keeper of the royal
conscience, being much shorter than his predecessor, would have been
obliged to get a tuck or two "run in," to adapt the long robe to the
little wearer.
Lord Campbell, on the contrary, had he taken Lord Denman's
costume with his office, must have had a flounce added, or a hem let
down, or a false hem constructed, to lengthen out the judicial gown. _
The Chancellor's state robe is a sort of black dressing-go wn, with
squares of gold leaf, Dutch metal, or some ether glittering material
arranged along the front of it, and reminding the spectator of the good
old days of the drama, when Tom Thumb was a standard burlesque.
We should be glad to know, why these absurdities of costume
are abolished on the Stage, and still remain on the Woolsack and the
judicial bench, when, we have no doubt, the learned masqueraders
would be glad to be spared the expense of buying, and the trouble of
wearing them.
The Progress of the Times.
We understand that, in order to show their disapproval of the recent
nomination of Dr. Wiseman to the office of Cardinal, the Protestant
Printers of London have resolved to set their faces, and their types,
against titles in Roman characters, which are now quite out of every-
body's good books.
The Devouring Element.—The Police Force.
Blood Money.—Paying to see the Chamber of Horrors at Madame
Tussaud's.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
AVERAGE WEIGHT OF THE FOOT GUARDS.
Heavy Swell. "What's the Average Weight of the Men in your
Regiment, Charley ?"
Swell in the Guards. " Don't know, I'm sure—aw—but Ten go to the Ton."
THE DEFENCELESS STATE OF ENGLAND.
The alarm about the unprotected femaleship of poor
Britannia has at last come to a head, Sir Francis having
published a book telling us that London is liable to be
walked into by 150,000 Frenchmen at any hour of the day.
This is a sort of story that is avowedly intended to
stimulate naval preparation, and we therefore recommend
the author at once to " tell it to the marines." We
are quite sure that if 150,000 Frenchmen were to be
seen at the Bricklayers' Arms, the common cry would be
"what are the police about," and Mr. Inspector Some-
body would at once proceed to the Elephant and Castle,
for the purpose of sufficiently manning the said "Elephant,"
and preventing the " Castle" from being taken by storm.
Sir Francis proposes the immediate fortification of
London, in the style of Paris, but really the market
gardeners in the suburbs will tell him we want all our
trenches for our celery, and as to throwing up mounds, we
have quite enough of that in getting ready the beds for
our asparagus.
Wandsworth sleeps soundly enough without the aid of
bastions. Brixton would rise as one man if it were about
to be cut off by a moat from Clapham; and Chelsea, if
threatened with being " loopholed," would find any loop-
hole to get out of the expense.
Kensington would never quietly consent to be encircled
with a rampart, and Hammersmith would fight with its
last shilling against being converted into a fort. Eancy
a drawbridge being pulled up and down at Hyde Park
Corner for the passage of every vehicle, and only conceive
Battersea fil.ted up with a gun battery to enable it to
annihilate Putney, or blow Wandsworth into the water
ar, a given signal. No! No! we are not so silly as to be
frightened by the shaking of a nervous head at us. There
is nothing in it, our elderly female readers may rest
assured.
The Authors of our own Pleasures.
We have received the folio wing from "An Amateur,"
who, we imagine, must have been a contributor to the
defunct Annuals, and other sources of unpaid literature.
" Authors may, indeed, be called the authors of their own
pleasures, for, after all, it must be confessed that there are
few pleasures in this world to be compared to the ecstatic
pleasure the author feels in reading one of his own articles
in print." According to this, no man can have so many
pleasures as the sedulous penny-a-liner, for he sees his
articles in print almost every day of his life.
A FEW WORDS ON OFFICIAL COSTUME.
In these days when puffery with its thousand tongues is calling upon
us to reform our tailor's bills ; when the ten-guinea great coat of
other days is exchanged for tlie five-and twenty-shilling wrap-rascal, or
the pound paletot of the present, we may be excused for saying a few
words on behalf of economy in official costume.
We are cutting down salaries to the minimum ; we are calling upon
public servants to do a double day's work for half-a-day's pay; and yet
official costume remains unreformed, continuing as costly as ever. If
a man is made a serjeant-at-law, though the business is not what it
used to be, the full-bottomed wig is as indispensable as ever, and
costs exactly the same ; so that the coif is now seldom applied for, in
consequence ot the smallness of the chance of profit, and the certain
expence of " dressing for the character."
A Serjeant's wig cuts into an awful amount of horse-hair, and one of
our "learned brethren" having remonstrated the other day with his
wig-maker on the extravagance of his prices, was seriously informed
that a single wig uses up the tails of six animals ; and our friend was
referred to a respectable knacker for a confirmation of the fact. The
ordinary bob-wig of the " utter" will take the best part of a pair of
ponies, and then it must be a very close shave ; while a judge's every-
day head-dress will make a couple of cobs' tails look very foolish, leaving
perhaps just enough to get a coachman's Caxon out of the remains.
It is true that these wigs have come down to us from our forefathers ;
but why should we take their folly upon our own shoulders ? Are we
to curl up the toes of our boots and shoes because our ancestors
did so ?
We ask this question, because it is one that comes directly to the
point. Descending from the wig to the gown, we find extravagance
and absurdity pervading the toga or togerv of the highest judicial
functionaries; and we especially protest against the robe of the Lord
Chancellor, which, we understand, costs several hundred pounds. We
have heard that its costliness, and the time required to make a new
one, will sometimes cause it to be transferred, witli the seals, from
Chancellor to Chancellor, so that the present keeper of the royal
conscience, being much shorter than his predecessor, would have been
obliged to get a tuck or two "run in," to adapt the long robe to the
little wearer.
Lord Campbell, on the contrary, had he taken Lord Denman's
costume with his office, must have had a flounce added, or a hem let
down, or a false hem constructed, to lengthen out the judicial gown. _
The Chancellor's state robe is a sort of black dressing-go wn, with
squares of gold leaf, Dutch metal, or some ether glittering material
arranged along the front of it, and reminding the spectator of the good
old days of the drama, when Tom Thumb was a standard burlesque.
We should be glad to know, why these absurdities of costume
are abolished on the Stage, and still remain on the Woolsack and the
judicial bench, when, we have no doubt, the learned masqueraders
would be glad to be spared the expense of buying, and the trouble of
wearing them.
The Progress of the Times.
We understand that, in order to show their disapproval of the recent
nomination of Dr. Wiseman to the office of Cardinal, the Protestant
Printers of London have resolved to set their faces, and their types,
against titles in Roman characters, which are now quite out of every-
body's good books.
The Devouring Element.—The Police Force.
Blood Money.—Paying to see the Chamber of Horrors at Madame
Tussaud's.