DOI issue:
July to December, 1851
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16608#0088
70
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
Her Majesty. But if there is a majority of " Tails," then the House
must not get more angry than it can help at being represented, during
the royal interview, by the Irish Members.
During the interview, the following rules must be strictly attended
to:—
The boys must form in a procession of four abreast. The big boys
must go first, and the little boys afterwards.
They must not sing, nor whistle, nor catch flies, nor make faces, nor
crow, nor bray, nor give way to any juvenile imitations, as they enter
the House of Lords.
No little boy must jump on the shoulders of another little boy in the
Mr. Alderman Gidchin.— \}gh ! {he is swept away in a rush of Porters
and Passengers) Oh !—my—lug— {he disappears)
[A cry without, " The Lord Mayor ! "
Enter the Lord Mayor and Suite. Police exert themselves. A line
is made to the Train The Lord Mayor enters a carriage.
A Sheriff {striving to follow him). Now, then, I'm one o' the Sheriffs.
Policeman {without any respect). Stand back, will you ?
[Shoves him back with his baton.
Mr. Alderman Portsoken {wildly, from window of carriage). There's a
green paper box—here—there it is—hollo !—
[His voice is drowned by the engine-whistle.
presence of Her Majesty. I ^frs, -Alderman Portsoken {with a wild cry, which is heard above the
All games of peg-top," pitch-and-toss, highcockalorum, and scratch- \ whistle) It's all my things. Oh, please—
cradle are strictly forbidden whilst Her Majkst y is speaking. \-Lhe Engine gives three eager whistles. A rush cf Passengers takes place.
Any little boy found "taking a sight" at the Lord Chancellor, or j JIZ „ IT^t yf ^°-ur an/upwards. 1 Luggage^is seen vaguely
any of the Peers, will be instantly expelled the House.
And lastly, any little boy convicted by his Master (the Speaker) of
breaking acy of the above rules, will never be allowed permission to
passing through the air. A bell rings loudly. Other Engines in
the Station begin to scream in the general excitement. Trains
begin to move gradually. Terrific struggle of Police, Porters,
Btteadt&oT^^ ir Aldermen Executive Commissioners.
Mr. Alderman Gulchin {slowly emerging from a mass of luggage, in
Really, from the very grave manner in which the Committee has laid
down its absurd recommendations, one would imagine that Members
are no better than Common Councilmen, and that they are in the habit
of "mobbing" the Queen every time she goes to Parliament, in the
same vulgar manner as aldermen and tradesmen do, when she goes to
a ball in the City. There is very little difference, it would appear,
between the House of Commons and Guildhall!
THE ALDERMEN'S WEEK IN PARIS.
A Very Bad Entertainment, in Several Tableaux.
Scene I.—The South-Eastern Railway Station.—The Special Train is
ranged alongside the platform, with its steam up Aldermen and
their Ladies, Common Councilmen and their Wives, Royal Com-
missionebs, Executive Commissioners, distinguished persons, and
undistinguished persons, are seen jammed into an incredibly small
space, behind the barriers. From time to time a desperate attempt is
made to call them. Luggage is seen passing towards the Train on the
other side of the barricade.
Policeman, Now, gents—it ain't no use a-squeeging. Keep back there,
—keep back !
\st Alderman {wildly; recognising a portmanteau). Hi!—hollo !—them's
my things ! [He leaps at the barricade, but falls heavily back.
1st Common Councilman {on whom he has fallen, with a yell of agony).
Oh, my toes ! Oh, confound it!—I say, you, Sir—
[His voice is suddenly squeezed out of him.
2nd Alderman {who has passed the Chair, addressing himself with
dignity to the Police Force). Here ! Open the gates, somebody, this
instant! Here's pretty treatment of the Corporation—ish—ulch—
[He is violently pressed against the barriers.
1st Alderman's L^ady {who has been anxiously following the fortunes of
a bonnet-box, now threatened by a heavy portmanteau). Oh, man ! pray
be careful—oh ! {The portmanteau descends). Eight upon my box !—Do
speak to them, Mr Gulchin.
1st Alderman {endeavouring to obey orders). Hi—you—{He is com-
pressed between two of the Executive Committee).
Common Councilman. Now, then! it's scandalous. 'Ere, you, Sir.
Stand off me, will you ? [Using his person as a battering-ram.
Open the gates!
Shame ! Where's the Lord Mayor ?
Po-lice ! Oh !—ugh !—'ere !
Now, then I o-pen the gates ! Oh ! oy !
[The gates are opened, and the flood bursts in with a rush, spreading
itself over the platform, and a strong tide setting in towards the
luggage.
Zrd Alderman {laying violent hands on a carpet-bag which a Royal
Commissioner is walking off with). Now—you, Sir—drop that; it's mine.
Royal Commissioner. Mine's a green one. Eh ?—beg your pardon.
Hollo—there it is !
[Rushing after Common Councilman, who has appropriated his
carpet-bag.
2nd Common Councilman. Where's my black trunk ? Anybody got
a black trunk, by the name of Dollup ?
[Vwishes in a pile of portmanteaus, trunks, and hat-boxes, from
which the words, " Trunk by the name of Dollup," are heard to
proceed, faintly, at intervals.
1st Porter {with iron-bound box). By your leave, gents.
[Hits Mr. Alderman Gulchin in the back.
Mr. Alderman Gulchin. Oh !
2nd Porter. By your leave, gents.
[Hits Mr, Alderman Gulchin in the abdomen.
Ensemble of Aldermen,
Common Councillors,
fyc, 8fc, 8fc.
a tone of despair). Mrs. G.'s gone, and all my trunks.
[He seats himself sadly on somebody else's portmanteau.
Tableau,—Bereaved Passengers lamenting the loss of their
Luggage.
[Scene closes as second Train slowly moves into the Station.
Scene II.—The Steamer.—The Deck of the "Princess Helena," in
bobbing Sea. The rest of the picture is left to the imagination.
Foreign Commissioner {wildly clinging to the bulwarks). Ach Gott!
0-0-0-0!
Chorus of Foreign Commissioners. 0-0-0 !—0-0-0 !
The Lord Mayor {to the Captain, in a compressed manner, endeavoortrg
to smile). Uncommonly pleasant day, Capt'n—delightf—
[He rushes to the side.
Mrs. Alderman Portsoken. Oh, take me down—somebody. Mr Port-
soken, I insist on being took down this min--
[She follows the Lord Mayor.
Mr. Alderman Portsoken. Oh—Mariar— [Hefollows Mrs. P.
[The Band strikes up "Rule, Britannia, Britannia rules the Waves/"
Tableau,—Civic Authorities sacrificing to Neptune.
[Scene closes on the utter wretchedness of everybody..
Scene III.—The Landing—The Jetty at Boulogne, crowded with
TJouaniers, Visitors, Matelots, Matelottes, Touters, Soldiers, the
Mayor of Boulogne, the Sou-Prefet, Boulogne Railway Directors,
fyc, fyc
The Lord Mayor feebly climbs the ladder, followed by his Jockey, in his
splendid gold-laced jacket and cap.
M. le Make {seizing the Jockey by the hand). Permit—My Lord
Mayor—that I welcome you-
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
Her Majesty. But if there is a majority of " Tails," then the House
must not get more angry than it can help at being represented, during
the royal interview, by the Irish Members.
During the interview, the following rules must be strictly attended
to:—
The boys must form in a procession of four abreast. The big boys
must go first, and the little boys afterwards.
They must not sing, nor whistle, nor catch flies, nor make faces, nor
crow, nor bray, nor give way to any juvenile imitations, as they enter
the House of Lords.
No little boy must jump on the shoulders of another little boy in the
Mr. Alderman Gidchin.— \}gh ! {he is swept away in a rush of Porters
and Passengers) Oh !—my—lug— {he disappears)
[A cry without, " The Lord Mayor ! "
Enter the Lord Mayor and Suite. Police exert themselves. A line
is made to the Train The Lord Mayor enters a carriage.
A Sheriff {striving to follow him). Now, then, I'm one o' the Sheriffs.
Policeman {without any respect). Stand back, will you ?
[Shoves him back with his baton.
Mr. Alderman Portsoken {wildly, from window of carriage). There's a
green paper box—here—there it is—hollo !—
[His voice is drowned by the engine-whistle.
presence of Her Majesty. I ^frs, -Alderman Portsoken {with a wild cry, which is heard above the
All games of peg-top," pitch-and-toss, highcockalorum, and scratch- \ whistle) It's all my things. Oh, please—
cradle are strictly forbidden whilst Her Majkst y is speaking. \-Lhe Engine gives three eager whistles. A rush cf Passengers takes place.
Any little boy found "taking a sight" at the Lord Chancellor, or j JIZ „ IT^t yf ^°-ur an/upwards. 1 Luggage^is seen vaguely
any of the Peers, will be instantly expelled the House.
And lastly, any little boy convicted by his Master (the Speaker) of
breaking acy of the above rules, will never be allowed permission to
passing through the air. A bell rings loudly. Other Engines in
the Station begin to scream in the general excitement. Trains
begin to move gradually. Terrific struggle of Police, Porters,
Btteadt&oT^^ ir Aldermen Executive Commissioners.
Mr. Alderman Gulchin {slowly emerging from a mass of luggage, in
Really, from the very grave manner in which the Committee has laid
down its absurd recommendations, one would imagine that Members
are no better than Common Councilmen, and that they are in the habit
of "mobbing" the Queen every time she goes to Parliament, in the
same vulgar manner as aldermen and tradesmen do, when she goes to
a ball in the City. There is very little difference, it would appear,
between the House of Commons and Guildhall!
THE ALDERMEN'S WEEK IN PARIS.
A Very Bad Entertainment, in Several Tableaux.
Scene I.—The South-Eastern Railway Station.—The Special Train is
ranged alongside the platform, with its steam up Aldermen and
their Ladies, Common Councilmen and their Wives, Royal Com-
missionebs, Executive Commissioners, distinguished persons, and
undistinguished persons, are seen jammed into an incredibly small
space, behind the barriers. From time to time a desperate attempt is
made to call them. Luggage is seen passing towards the Train on the
other side of the barricade.
Policeman, Now, gents—it ain't no use a-squeeging. Keep back there,
—keep back !
\st Alderman {wildly; recognising a portmanteau). Hi!—hollo !—them's
my things ! [He leaps at the barricade, but falls heavily back.
1st Common Councilman {on whom he has fallen, with a yell of agony).
Oh, my toes ! Oh, confound it!—I say, you, Sir—
[His voice is suddenly squeezed out of him.
2nd Alderman {who has passed the Chair, addressing himself with
dignity to the Police Force). Here ! Open the gates, somebody, this
instant! Here's pretty treatment of the Corporation—ish—ulch—
[He is violently pressed against the barriers.
1st Alderman's L^ady {who has been anxiously following the fortunes of
a bonnet-box, now threatened by a heavy portmanteau). Oh, man ! pray
be careful—oh ! {The portmanteau descends). Eight upon my box !—Do
speak to them, Mr Gulchin.
1st Alderman {endeavouring to obey orders). Hi—you—{He is com-
pressed between two of the Executive Committee).
Common Councilman. Now, then! it's scandalous. 'Ere, you, Sir.
Stand off me, will you ? [Using his person as a battering-ram.
Open the gates!
Shame ! Where's the Lord Mayor ?
Po-lice ! Oh !—ugh !—'ere !
Now, then I o-pen the gates ! Oh ! oy !
[The gates are opened, and the flood bursts in with a rush, spreading
itself over the platform, and a strong tide setting in towards the
luggage.
Zrd Alderman {laying violent hands on a carpet-bag which a Royal
Commissioner is walking off with). Now—you, Sir—drop that; it's mine.
Royal Commissioner. Mine's a green one. Eh ?—beg your pardon.
Hollo—there it is !
[Rushing after Common Councilman, who has appropriated his
carpet-bag.
2nd Common Councilman. Where's my black trunk ? Anybody got
a black trunk, by the name of Dollup ?
[Vwishes in a pile of portmanteaus, trunks, and hat-boxes, from
which the words, " Trunk by the name of Dollup," are heard to
proceed, faintly, at intervals.
1st Porter {with iron-bound box). By your leave, gents.
[Hits Mr. Alderman Gulchin in the back.
Mr. Alderman Gulchin. Oh !
2nd Porter. By your leave, gents.
[Hits Mr, Alderman Gulchin in the abdomen.
Ensemble of Aldermen,
Common Councillors,
fyc, 8fc, 8fc.
a tone of despair). Mrs. G.'s gone, and all my trunks.
[He seats himself sadly on somebody else's portmanteau.
Tableau,—Bereaved Passengers lamenting the loss of their
Luggage.
[Scene closes as second Train slowly moves into the Station.
Scene II.—The Steamer.—The Deck of the "Princess Helena," in
bobbing Sea. The rest of the picture is left to the imagination.
Foreign Commissioner {wildly clinging to the bulwarks). Ach Gott!
0-0-0-0!
Chorus of Foreign Commissioners. 0-0-0 !—0-0-0 !
The Lord Mayor {to the Captain, in a compressed manner, endeavoortrg
to smile). Uncommonly pleasant day, Capt'n—delightf—
[He rushes to the side.
Mrs. Alderman Portsoken. Oh, take me down—somebody. Mr Port-
soken, I insist on being took down this min--
[She follows the Lord Mayor.
Mr. Alderman Portsoken. Oh—Mariar— [Hefollows Mrs. P.
[The Band strikes up "Rule, Britannia, Britannia rules the Waves/"
Tableau,—Civic Authorities sacrificing to Neptune.
[Scene closes on the utter wretchedness of everybody..
Scene III.—The Landing—The Jetty at Boulogne, crowded with
TJouaniers, Visitors, Matelots, Matelottes, Touters, Soldiers, the
Mayor of Boulogne, the Sou-Prefet, Boulogne Railway Directors,
fyc, fyc
The Lord Mayor feebly climbs the ladder, followed by his Jockey, in his
splendid gold-laced jacket and cap.
M. le Make {seizing the Jockey by the hand). Permit—My Lord
Mayor—that I welcome you-