DOI issue:
July to December, 1851
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16608#0022
10
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
compare to a series of Turner's pictures being viewed, on a summer'a
AN INSTRUCTOR OF THE FOREIGNER. \ day, through the windows of an express train going at the rate oi
m Ti/r iv r\a> t I sixty miles an hour.
1 Marylebone Office one John , ,,. „ . e , , , ..
Francis Bigge-" of military Af]er a,t.1fme' T?&a> thls PW. p^a?\ °f °olo:jrs slackens its
speed a bit, and the eye, at first blinded by the immense glare,
begins gradually to recover its power, and to settle on distinct objects.
Here it distinguishes a sunny corn-field of bonnets, gracefully waving
backwards and forwards, as if they were curtsying to the beauty of the
scene • _ there it can discriminate a sullen acre of black hats, running in
lines, like a newly-ploughed field. In one spot is a rich garden blooming
with all the gorgeous hues of fashion; and, in another direction,
spreads an immense plantation of poplar-looking boys, and of sturdy
men of the circumference of oaks. The scene grows before you, and
almost articulates; here a Statue speaks, and there a bright fountain
leaps up, laughing like a child, with joy. It is, to be extatic, a living
chapter of Boccacio read aloud with the eyes.
But we must descend from our imaginative balloon, and step on earth.
The cynosure (or rather, the sinecure) of all eyes seems to be the
Koh-i-noor diamond. Poor jewel—there is something the matter with
it, for it disdains to shine. It has been lately served up with gas—but
this, apparently, has only subjected it to more roasting than before.
There is something touching in the fact of a sick diamond calling in
the assistance of one of its poor relations—for both the diamond and
gas are descended from the same family of coal—which said family, by-
the-bye, must be about the oldest family in the world, for it numbers
more generations under ground than any other. But this is not the
first time, by many, that the Koh-i-noors of society only shine with the
borrowed light of those working beneath them in station! But we
leave the perfect setting of this brilliant moral to others.
appearance "—was charged by
Sir George Armytage with
spitting in his face. And
Bigge did not deny the fact:
nay, Bigge rather applauded
himself for the unseemly deed.
He moreover admitted that a
few days before " he had spat
in the face of a Frenchman."
Mr. Broughton sentenced
Bigge "to pay £3 or "—(and
here we have the beauty of
English law, that makes ruffian-
ism the purchaseable luxury
of the man of money)—" or to
be imprisoned for six weeks."
"What a lesson is this for our
foreign visitors ! A Frenchman
has his face spat upon; and
his condoling remedy is—the
iirty fellow who commits the nastiness, can afford it! In England, you
may be a brute, if you can lay down sixty shillings, the police price of
the brutality.
AJN ORANGE INSULT.
\_For the Tipperary Fire-eater.~\
With inexpressible feelings of burning indignation we have to call
the attention of all Ireland to a speech said to be delivered by Prince
Albert at a meeting of a society calling itself a Society for the Propa-
gation of the Gospel. There is not an Irishman wdiose heart beats in
the right place who will not, with flashing eyes, burning brow, and
clencher1, sinewy hands, read what it is our awful duty to lay before
him. The Prince said—
" This Society was first chartered by that great man, William iii. {cheers), the
greatest Sovereign this country has to boast of (loud cheers), by whose sagacity and
energy was closed that bloody struggle for civil and religious liberty which had so long
been convulsing this country, and were secured to us the inestimable advantages of our
constitution and of our Protestant faith {loud cheers)"
Yes, they " cheered." The brutal Saxon, gloating over the miseries
of this afflicted—this outraged country, bleeding from ten thousand
gashes—the malignant Saxon raised his wolfish shout at the name of
that man whose iron heel was stamped upon the breast of Ireland.
A great man! Will ye forget this, ye men of Erin ? " William
the Third, the greatest sovereign this country has to boast of!"
And why " the greatest ? " Because—can there be a doubt of the
insult ?—because he drove from the rightful divinity of his throne, that
really greatest sovereign the brutal Saxon has in reality "to boast of"
—James the Second !
" Our Protestant faith!" But with Cardinal Wiseman firm as a
rock in Westminster, we may afford to smile at the insult. Yes ; and
with that bright, devoted band, our own Irish brigade—for we accept
the term as a distinction—our own brigade " in burning row" in a Saxon
House of Commons, we will smile; we say, we will smile ; smile, and
silently swear—swear ! !!
THE FRONT ROW OF THE SHILLING
GALLERY.
Do you see what a crowd hems in the monster bird-cage ?—which
bird-cage many a fine lady would give up her pew in church to be able
to hang up in her drawing-room. What a number uf cats (on two legs)
there would be jumping up after it, to be sure !
This same Koh-i-noor rises and sets every morning and evening, just
like the sun, and "giving," as we heard a stupid Frenchman say,
[ike occupying the Front Row of'the GaUery on a Shilling day of "about as much light as'the sun in England." This rising and
the Exhibition} and comfortably seated down, with plenty of room for
our legs, to enjoy all the little incidents that are being quietly exhibited
below. It is like going behind the scenes—if a person can be up in the
gallery and behind the scenes at the same time—and peeping at the
audience through a hole in the big curtain.
The great mob keeps playing about the floor like an immense sea of
Jack-o'-lanterns. You cannot look at them without winking. It is a
Quadrille of colours—a Reel of prismatic rays—which may well turn
the poor Koh-i-noor pale with envy. There they are dancing in the
most fantastic figures—Poules—Pastorals—Pantalons innumerable—
Grandes Rondes without end round the Crystal Fountain—Cavaliers
Seuls looking after their partners—and inextricable Chaines de Barnes
extending, like garlands, the whole length of the building. Fancy these
all moving, surging, tossing together, whilst countless sets are wildly
rushing up and down the middle, and balancez-ing, like summer lightning,
from one side to the other, and you will have but a poor notion, after
all, how I'EtS is danced through, with a gaiety it has never known
before, at this year's Exhibition. The dazzling effect we can only
setting, however, may be only to illustrate _ the various ups and
downs the diamond has had in its day. This lump of crystallised
carbon may be said to invert the stereotyped recommendation of
the Evening Paper—for its fate seems to be, "the less it is seen,
the more it is appreciated." One half of the ladies, who push,
and pant, and pinch their way amonsst one another to see it, go
away with hearts as crushed as their bonnets, and live in hopes
of catching a glimpse of it the following day. But the other half,
who are fortunate enough to be smiled upon by this stony-hearted
Diamond, are made happy for the rest of their lives. In fact, its
rising and setting are made matters of as much excitement in the
fashionable world, as the rising and setting of the sun amongst travellers
on the top of Mount Righi; and we must say that a little rigging would
do the Diamond and its worshippers no harm. A young lady, who is
present at its morning levee, rushes home, in the greatest ecstacy, and
exclaims—" Oh, Mamma, I'm so very very happy! I've seen the
Koh-i-noor rise this morning!" And we have been told of a lady
who was old enough to know better, bursting into a large party, anfl
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
compare to a series of Turner's pictures being viewed, on a summer'a
AN INSTRUCTOR OF THE FOREIGNER. \ day, through the windows of an express train going at the rate oi
m Ti/r iv r\a> t I sixty miles an hour.
1 Marylebone Office one John , ,,. „ . e , , , ..
Francis Bigge-" of military Af]er a,t.1fme' T?&a> thls PW. p^a?\ °f °olo:jrs slackens its
speed a bit, and the eye, at first blinded by the immense glare,
begins gradually to recover its power, and to settle on distinct objects.
Here it distinguishes a sunny corn-field of bonnets, gracefully waving
backwards and forwards, as if they were curtsying to the beauty of the
scene • _ there it can discriminate a sullen acre of black hats, running in
lines, like a newly-ploughed field. In one spot is a rich garden blooming
with all the gorgeous hues of fashion; and, in another direction,
spreads an immense plantation of poplar-looking boys, and of sturdy
men of the circumference of oaks. The scene grows before you, and
almost articulates; here a Statue speaks, and there a bright fountain
leaps up, laughing like a child, with joy. It is, to be extatic, a living
chapter of Boccacio read aloud with the eyes.
But we must descend from our imaginative balloon, and step on earth.
The cynosure (or rather, the sinecure) of all eyes seems to be the
Koh-i-noor diamond. Poor jewel—there is something the matter with
it, for it disdains to shine. It has been lately served up with gas—but
this, apparently, has only subjected it to more roasting than before.
There is something touching in the fact of a sick diamond calling in
the assistance of one of its poor relations—for both the diamond and
gas are descended from the same family of coal—which said family, by-
the-bye, must be about the oldest family in the world, for it numbers
more generations under ground than any other. But this is not the
first time, by many, that the Koh-i-noors of society only shine with the
borrowed light of those working beneath them in station! But we
leave the perfect setting of this brilliant moral to others.
appearance "—was charged by
Sir George Armytage with
spitting in his face. And
Bigge did not deny the fact:
nay, Bigge rather applauded
himself for the unseemly deed.
He moreover admitted that a
few days before " he had spat
in the face of a Frenchman."
Mr. Broughton sentenced
Bigge "to pay £3 or "—(and
here we have the beauty of
English law, that makes ruffian-
ism the purchaseable luxury
of the man of money)—" or to
be imprisoned for six weeks."
"What a lesson is this for our
foreign visitors ! A Frenchman
has his face spat upon; and
his condoling remedy is—the
iirty fellow who commits the nastiness, can afford it! In England, you
may be a brute, if you can lay down sixty shillings, the police price of
the brutality.
AJN ORANGE INSULT.
\_For the Tipperary Fire-eater.~\
With inexpressible feelings of burning indignation we have to call
the attention of all Ireland to a speech said to be delivered by Prince
Albert at a meeting of a society calling itself a Society for the Propa-
gation of the Gospel. There is not an Irishman wdiose heart beats in
the right place who will not, with flashing eyes, burning brow, and
clencher1, sinewy hands, read what it is our awful duty to lay before
him. The Prince said—
" This Society was first chartered by that great man, William iii. {cheers), the
greatest Sovereign this country has to boast of (loud cheers), by whose sagacity and
energy was closed that bloody struggle for civil and religious liberty which had so long
been convulsing this country, and were secured to us the inestimable advantages of our
constitution and of our Protestant faith {loud cheers)"
Yes, they " cheered." The brutal Saxon, gloating over the miseries
of this afflicted—this outraged country, bleeding from ten thousand
gashes—the malignant Saxon raised his wolfish shout at the name of
that man whose iron heel was stamped upon the breast of Ireland.
A great man! Will ye forget this, ye men of Erin ? " William
the Third, the greatest sovereign this country has to boast of!"
And why " the greatest ? " Because—can there be a doubt of the
insult ?—because he drove from the rightful divinity of his throne, that
really greatest sovereign the brutal Saxon has in reality "to boast of"
—James the Second !
" Our Protestant faith!" But with Cardinal Wiseman firm as a
rock in Westminster, we may afford to smile at the insult. Yes ; and
with that bright, devoted band, our own Irish brigade—for we accept
the term as a distinction—our own brigade " in burning row" in a Saxon
House of Commons, we will smile; we say, we will smile ; smile, and
silently swear—swear ! !!
THE FRONT ROW OF THE SHILLING
GALLERY.
Do you see what a crowd hems in the monster bird-cage ?—which
bird-cage many a fine lady would give up her pew in church to be able
to hang up in her drawing-room. What a number uf cats (on two legs)
there would be jumping up after it, to be sure !
This same Koh-i-noor rises and sets every morning and evening, just
like the sun, and "giving," as we heard a stupid Frenchman say,
[ike occupying the Front Row of'the GaUery on a Shilling day of "about as much light as'the sun in England." This rising and
the Exhibition} and comfortably seated down, with plenty of room for
our legs, to enjoy all the little incidents that are being quietly exhibited
below. It is like going behind the scenes—if a person can be up in the
gallery and behind the scenes at the same time—and peeping at the
audience through a hole in the big curtain.
The great mob keeps playing about the floor like an immense sea of
Jack-o'-lanterns. You cannot look at them without winking. It is a
Quadrille of colours—a Reel of prismatic rays—which may well turn
the poor Koh-i-noor pale with envy. There they are dancing in the
most fantastic figures—Poules—Pastorals—Pantalons innumerable—
Grandes Rondes without end round the Crystal Fountain—Cavaliers
Seuls looking after their partners—and inextricable Chaines de Barnes
extending, like garlands, the whole length of the building. Fancy these
all moving, surging, tossing together, whilst countless sets are wildly
rushing up and down the middle, and balancez-ing, like summer lightning,
from one side to the other, and you will have but a poor notion, after
all, how I'EtS is danced through, with a gaiety it has never known
before, at this year's Exhibition. The dazzling effect we can only
setting, however, may be only to illustrate _ the various ups and
downs the diamond has had in its day. This lump of crystallised
carbon may be said to invert the stereotyped recommendation of
the Evening Paper—for its fate seems to be, "the less it is seen,
the more it is appreciated." One half of the ladies, who push,
and pant, and pinch their way amonsst one another to see it, go
away with hearts as crushed as their bonnets, and live in hopes
of catching a glimpse of it the following day. But the other half,
who are fortunate enough to be smiled upon by this stony-hearted
Diamond, are made happy for the rest of their lives. In fact, its
rising and setting are made matters of as much excitement in the
fashionable world, as the rising and setting of the sun amongst travellers
on the top of Mount Righi; and we must say that a little rigging would
do the Diamond and its worshippers no harm. A young lady, who is
present at its morning levee, rushes home, in the greatest ecstacy, and
exclaims—" Oh, Mamma, I'm so very very happy! I've seen the
Koh-i-noor rise this morning!" And we have been told of a lady
who was old enough to know better, bursting into a large party, anfl