DOI issue:
July to December, 1851
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16608#0115
PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
103
HERALDIC FRAGMENTS.
F singular heraldic objects, there is one
notably so; we mean a lymphadr—
which is the heraldic name for a ship.
One of these looks as fit for sailing
as if it had been built by a modern
Admiralty. The Dukes or Argyle
bear a "lymphad with sails thirled
up," in the second and third quarters
of their shield, as representatives of
the Lords of Lorn—to indicate, we
suppose, that they rowed in the same
boat, with those old potentates. We
confess that we should be sorry to
embark our fortunes in a lymphad
anywhere farther down the river than
Greenwich—even although it displayed
flags and pennants flying, gules, as pre-
tentiously as it does in the above case.
And we are afraid, though with every
disposition to exclaim, "Row, brothers,
row," to any worthy master of a
lymphad extant, that these vessels
will be symbolically, as they have been
literally, superannuated by the superior
powers of modern steam-vessels.
We invited our readers last week to
certain Honourable Ordinaries. We
pointed out the Chief, the Pale, the
Chevron. The Eess is not so sus-
ceptible of a festive style of treat-
ment as other heraldic objects. It is, however, rather an important one
—it encloses a third of the shield horizontally across the centre.
Antiquarians suppose it to represent a scarf. The Bar is in the same
direction as the Bess.
The Bend crosses from the dexter chief to the sinister base. It is to
be noted that most of these have their diminutives, little representa-
tives of them on a small scale. The Chief has a fillet—as Loud John
has his Hawes. There is a half of the Bar, too, called the closet-
typical of the humble space occupied by so many members of the
profession of that name. As to the Bend Sinister, with regard to
which one hears so much said, and which is perhaps the only ordinary
whose name is perfectly familiar to the public, we have to notice an
odd theory regarding it, broached by old Guillii:, the writer on
Heraldry. That learned man says that the bearing known as the Bend
Sinister is properly a baton or cudgel, and is worn to show that
gentlemen labouring under the misfortune of having it on their shields,
are liable to be cudgelled as slaves—not being born free ! This theory
has been severely reprobated by subsequent writers. But it is satis-
factory to know that whether Guillih be right or not, the Bend
Sinister is delicately repudiated by modern families, who give not so
much a sinister as a dexter-ous turn to the matter, by putting their
arms within a "border wavy" instead. The next age will possibly see
them marching triumphantly "over the border," and coming out with
shields in a state of primary purity.
One of the most important matters in Heraldry is the marshalling of
arms, by which is meant the arranging of those " quarterings " which
one becomes entitled to by marriage. A husband has a right to impale
his wife's arms with his own, in an ordinary case—(ah! how often is
this "impalement" a terrible punishment, here, as in the East!)—but
if he marries an heiress, (or lady without brothers), he places her shield
on his own, and his son bears both arms " quarterly;" in addition to
which he has a right to all the arms which previous marriages have
brought into the damsel's own house. Hence come those huge batches
of quarterings which your great houses boast. You may pick a selection
of the choicest coats for your carriage out of the whole number—or to
grave on a pewter-pot, as is done by our friend Fitjfp. We illustrate
this most romantic branch of Heraldry by a few lines.
A HERALD TO HIS MISTRESS.
Dear heiress of the house of Ware,
My heart all gules before you lies;
And, like the birds the Murdochs bear,
Is vulned by your tender eyes.
Slow naiant visions past me shine;
Sweet etoiles glitter on the sense ;
I long to bear your arms with mine
On an escutcheon of pretence !
Before your footsteps, as yon pass,
May roses barbed and seeded grow ;
And gleaming through the rich vert grass,
Sweet Bourbon lilies proper blow !
When the dark hatchment on the wa'l,
All black in ground, shows both are gone,
When crests gleam faintly on the pall,
Our honours merge into our son.
He, quarterly, our bearings shows,
In first and fourth my lymphads sail;
Second and third with pride disclose
The crescents that you bear in pale.
A TESTIMONIAL TO THE SULTAN.
"Mr. Punch,—I write to you from the vats of Barclay and
Perkins; and am-emboldened to do so by the circumstance that, upon
another occasion—to which I needn't more partic'larly allude at this
minute—my pictur, and the pictur of two or three of my mates, had the
honour to find themselves in your widely circ'lated columns. But
that's not what I'm going to write just now.
"Mr. Punch,—I see by the papers that the Sultan—like a jolly
Turkey-cock as he is—is going to let out that brave fellow Kossuth
and his companions : let 'em out safe and sound, with not a hole pecked
in their precious skins by that varmint of a double-headed eagle, which
is kept in Austria to feed upon the hearts and vitals of brave men, for
all the world as they feed the vultures on garbage at the 'Logical
Gardens.
" On the 15th of September—say the papers—Kossuth and his friends
are to be free. The Sultan— (well, I only wish the Pope was as good
a Christian)—the Sultan wouldn't be bullied into doing the shabby
thing; but, having given his word, he looked upon it like that diamond
that's being shown at the Glass Palace, above all price,—and the up-
shot is, Kossuth isn't to be hanged in Austrian rope, but is alive, and
I hope will some day be found once again kicking.
" Well, I should like us, as Englishmen, to make what is called a
Testimonial to the Sultan. I should like to give him something, that,
he could look at when he chose ; and see in it a proof that John Bull
loved and honoured him—Turk and infidel as they call him—for
standing like a noble fellow—and that, too, as I hear, when he was none
of the strongest—between the butcher and the brave.
" Me and some of my mates have been thinking over the matter;
and it's our opinion that we could give nothing to the Sultan that
would be more grateful to his feelings as a Sultan, a gentleman, and a
good-hearted fellow as he is—nothing more grateful than a noble
gallon tankard, silver-gilt, or all gold, it' there's money enough. Yes, a
gallon tankard, carved outside with hops; and hooped like a barrel,
and writ with a proper inscription, that the piece of plate may go down
all his family as long as Turkey stands.—'T would be a fine thing,
wouldn't it ? Always standing on the sideboard when any of the
'bassadors from Austria or Russia dropt in upon bus'ness ? Do you
know, Mr. Punch, I do think Old England might be worse represented
in what is called the eyes of foreign powers.
"Any way, Mr. Punch, just set the thing going, and you may rely
upon subscriptions from one and all of
" Your humble Servants,
"Barclay and Perkins's Draymen."
"P.S. We do think that the tankard shouldn't go to Constantinople
without a butt of our XXXXX. (and stronger than that, if you like). 1
know that Mussulmans don't drink wine; but there's no law'gainst
hops. At least I should think so; for a good many Turks, now and
then, have come to see us; and don't they see the bottom of the
pewter!"
Public Works and Public Idleness.
A return, extending to thirty-six folio pages, has just been
published on the subject of public works. We think we could produce
a companion volume, amounting to many more folios of speeches in
Parliament, by way of showing the extent of public idleness. That
which occupies more time in the doing than everything else put
together, is undoubtedly the doing of nothing. The money thrown
away upon nothing, would pay the National Debt over and over again;
and as to a report on public works, let it occupy as many pages ana
cost as many pounds as it will, the whole falls into insignificance before
the extent and the cost of public idleness.
A Check to Blooming.
It is said that three females—wife and daughters of an innocent sea-
captain now on blue water—have appeared in the pubhc promenade of
Belfast in full Bloomer costume. Punch has received various intima-
tions of an attempt in certain quarters of England at full Blooming;
and has been asked his advice upon the exigency. Punch has to pro-
pound an instant remedy. If women assume the dress of men, let them
undertake men's duties: hence, every Bloomer shall be liable to be
drawn for the militia, without benefit of substitute.
103
HERALDIC FRAGMENTS.
F singular heraldic objects, there is one
notably so; we mean a lymphadr—
which is the heraldic name for a ship.
One of these looks as fit for sailing
as if it had been built by a modern
Admiralty. The Dukes or Argyle
bear a "lymphad with sails thirled
up," in the second and third quarters
of their shield, as representatives of
the Lords of Lorn—to indicate, we
suppose, that they rowed in the same
boat, with those old potentates. We
confess that we should be sorry to
embark our fortunes in a lymphad
anywhere farther down the river than
Greenwich—even although it displayed
flags and pennants flying, gules, as pre-
tentiously as it does in the above case.
And we are afraid, though with every
disposition to exclaim, "Row, brothers,
row," to any worthy master of a
lymphad extant, that these vessels
will be symbolically, as they have been
literally, superannuated by the superior
powers of modern steam-vessels.
We invited our readers last week to
certain Honourable Ordinaries. We
pointed out the Chief, the Pale, the
Chevron. The Eess is not so sus-
ceptible of a festive style of treat-
ment as other heraldic objects. It is, however, rather an important one
—it encloses a third of the shield horizontally across the centre.
Antiquarians suppose it to represent a scarf. The Bar is in the same
direction as the Bess.
The Bend crosses from the dexter chief to the sinister base. It is to
be noted that most of these have their diminutives, little representa-
tives of them on a small scale. The Chief has a fillet—as Loud John
has his Hawes. There is a half of the Bar, too, called the closet-
typical of the humble space occupied by so many members of the
profession of that name. As to the Bend Sinister, with regard to
which one hears so much said, and which is perhaps the only ordinary
whose name is perfectly familiar to the public, we have to notice an
odd theory regarding it, broached by old Guillii:, the writer on
Heraldry. That learned man says that the bearing known as the Bend
Sinister is properly a baton or cudgel, and is worn to show that
gentlemen labouring under the misfortune of having it on their shields,
are liable to be cudgelled as slaves—not being born free ! This theory
has been severely reprobated by subsequent writers. But it is satis-
factory to know that whether Guillih be right or not, the Bend
Sinister is delicately repudiated by modern families, who give not so
much a sinister as a dexter-ous turn to the matter, by putting their
arms within a "border wavy" instead. The next age will possibly see
them marching triumphantly "over the border," and coming out with
shields in a state of primary purity.
One of the most important matters in Heraldry is the marshalling of
arms, by which is meant the arranging of those " quarterings " which
one becomes entitled to by marriage. A husband has a right to impale
his wife's arms with his own, in an ordinary case—(ah! how often is
this "impalement" a terrible punishment, here, as in the East!)—but
if he marries an heiress, (or lady without brothers), he places her shield
on his own, and his son bears both arms " quarterly;" in addition to
which he has a right to all the arms which previous marriages have
brought into the damsel's own house. Hence come those huge batches
of quarterings which your great houses boast. You may pick a selection
of the choicest coats for your carriage out of the whole number—or to
grave on a pewter-pot, as is done by our friend Fitjfp. We illustrate
this most romantic branch of Heraldry by a few lines.
A HERALD TO HIS MISTRESS.
Dear heiress of the house of Ware,
My heart all gules before you lies;
And, like the birds the Murdochs bear,
Is vulned by your tender eyes.
Slow naiant visions past me shine;
Sweet etoiles glitter on the sense ;
I long to bear your arms with mine
On an escutcheon of pretence !
Before your footsteps, as yon pass,
May roses barbed and seeded grow ;
And gleaming through the rich vert grass,
Sweet Bourbon lilies proper blow !
When the dark hatchment on the wa'l,
All black in ground, shows both are gone,
When crests gleam faintly on the pall,
Our honours merge into our son.
He, quarterly, our bearings shows,
In first and fourth my lymphads sail;
Second and third with pride disclose
The crescents that you bear in pale.
A TESTIMONIAL TO THE SULTAN.
"Mr. Punch,—I write to you from the vats of Barclay and
Perkins; and am-emboldened to do so by the circumstance that, upon
another occasion—to which I needn't more partic'larly allude at this
minute—my pictur, and the pictur of two or three of my mates, had the
honour to find themselves in your widely circ'lated columns. But
that's not what I'm going to write just now.
"Mr. Punch,—I see by the papers that the Sultan—like a jolly
Turkey-cock as he is—is going to let out that brave fellow Kossuth
and his companions : let 'em out safe and sound, with not a hole pecked
in their precious skins by that varmint of a double-headed eagle, which
is kept in Austria to feed upon the hearts and vitals of brave men, for
all the world as they feed the vultures on garbage at the 'Logical
Gardens.
" On the 15th of September—say the papers—Kossuth and his friends
are to be free. The Sultan— (well, I only wish the Pope was as good
a Christian)—the Sultan wouldn't be bullied into doing the shabby
thing; but, having given his word, he looked upon it like that diamond
that's being shown at the Glass Palace, above all price,—and the up-
shot is, Kossuth isn't to be hanged in Austrian rope, but is alive, and
I hope will some day be found once again kicking.
" Well, I should like us, as Englishmen, to make what is called a
Testimonial to the Sultan. I should like to give him something, that,
he could look at when he chose ; and see in it a proof that John Bull
loved and honoured him—Turk and infidel as they call him—for
standing like a noble fellow—and that, too, as I hear, when he was none
of the strongest—between the butcher and the brave.
" Me and some of my mates have been thinking over the matter;
and it's our opinion that we could give nothing to the Sultan that
would be more grateful to his feelings as a Sultan, a gentleman, and a
good-hearted fellow as he is—nothing more grateful than a noble
gallon tankard, silver-gilt, or all gold, it' there's money enough. Yes, a
gallon tankard, carved outside with hops; and hooped like a barrel,
and writ with a proper inscription, that the piece of plate may go down
all his family as long as Turkey stands.—'T would be a fine thing,
wouldn't it ? Always standing on the sideboard when any of the
'bassadors from Austria or Russia dropt in upon bus'ness ? Do you
know, Mr. Punch, I do think Old England might be worse represented
in what is called the eyes of foreign powers.
"Any way, Mr. Punch, just set the thing going, and you may rely
upon subscriptions from one and all of
" Your humble Servants,
"Barclay and Perkins's Draymen."
"P.S. We do think that the tankard shouldn't go to Constantinople
without a butt of our XXXXX. (and stronger than that, if you like). 1
know that Mussulmans don't drink wine; but there's no law'gainst
hops. At least I should think so; for a good many Turks, now and
then, have come to see us; and don't they see the bottom of the
pewter!"
Public Works and Public Idleness.
A return, extending to thirty-six folio pages, has just been
published on the subject of public works. We think we could produce
a companion volume, amounting to many more folios of speeches in
Parliament, by way of showing the extent of public idleness. That
which occupies more time in the doing than everything else put
together, is undoubtedly the doing of nothing. The money thrown
away upon nothing, would pay the National Debt over and over again;
and as to a report on public works, let it occupy as many pages ana
cost as many pounds as it will, the whole falls into insignificance before
the extent and the cost of public idleness.
A Check to Blooming.
It is said that three females—wife and daughters of an innocent sea-
captain now on blue water—have appeared in the pubhc promenade of
Belfast in full Bloomer costume. Punch has received various intima-
tions of an attempt in certain quarters of England at full Blooming;
and has been asked his advice upon the exigency. Punch has to pro-
pound an instant remedy. If women assume the dress of men, let them
undertake men's duties: hence, every Bloomer shall be liable to be
drawn for the militia, without benefit of substitute.