DOI Heft:
July to December, 1852
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16610#0101
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
93
WHAT I SAW AT THE PAWNBROKER'S.
BY NO MATTER WHO.
Y accident I was present at the Pawn-
broker's, at the time that Mr. Collins
was "pledging" ([believe that is the
term) the portraits that had been en-
trusted to his care for publication in
his abruptly-finished work of Eminent
Statesmen.
This was what I saw.
The first portrait he handed up was
one of Lord Malmesbury. Eor this
the sum of 9s. Sd. was offered — the
Pawnbroker couldn't possibly give more,
he should lose by it as i!; was; but as
payment was tendered in Austrian bank-
notes, all dirty and torn and tattered,
not unlike his Lordship's reputation,
the portrait was withdrawn, after a
liberal proposition had been made by
Mr. Collins, but refused, to take half
the sum (4». lOd.) in English money.
The next statesman handed up for valuation was Mr. Benjamin
Disraeli. The peculiarity of this portrait was that it had two faces,
one on each side. One portrait had evidently been taken years ago, and
displayed a Liberal cast of countenance, round and good-humoured,
with a happy smile about the lips, as if the gentleman was pleased
with himself and all the world. The other one showed a Conservative
turn of face, with all the features narrowed and pinched, and a cunning
expression in the eye that seemed to say, " Trust me, and I'll take you
in." The Pawnbroker couldn't give more than £1 for the two portraits.
It was a great pity they were not larger; they would have made a
capital sign-post for an ale-house—for, as it swung backwards and
forwards, it would have shown a different face on each side. One face
would have attracted the Free-traders, and the other one would have
taken in the agriculturists. "Ultimately this Janus-portrait of a states-
man was taken in for 25*.
Lord Derby was the next " Eminent Statesman" taken in hand.
The Pawnbroker took it to the window, held it up, turned it in all
possible directions, but apparently could not see his Lordship in a
favourable light. "Ten shillings," he said, " and really that's more
than his intrinsic value. I know his Lordship will very quickly be on
the shelf, and then he will remain there all his life." Lord Derby
was ultimately withdrawn, for Mr. Collins felt that, as an English-
man, he could not let the Prime Minister of his country go for so
small a figure.
The Colonial Secretary, and a bag-full of Under-Secretaries were
the next handed over the counter. They belonged to the present
Ministry, but the Pawnbroker indignantly rejected them, saying,
" They are all a bad lot, and he should be sorry to have anything to do
with them."
An honourable exception was made, however, in favour of Lord
Maidstone, who fetched as much as Is. &%d. The Pawnbroker thought
he should get his money back again by selling his Lordship (who, he
had been told," had some stuff in him," and I, for my part, did not
doubt the stuff in the least) in Holywell Street, where his portrait
would come in well as a frontispiece to the next edition of " Jeames'
Songster."
Other "Statesmen" fetched better prices. A faithful portrait of
Lobd John Russell brought 3/. 15s. Qd., though the Pawnbroker was
afraid " he should have to wait some time for his money, for it was ex-
traordinary how long the people were in appreciating his Lordship's
real merits."
A good sum was given for a telling portrait of Joseph Hume—for
" now that he was better known, and seen in his proper colours, (here
the Pawnbroker rubbed off with his sleeve a quantity of dust that had
settled upon its countenance,) honest old Joseph's value was, he was
glad to say, better appreciated every year." The shopman's liberality
warmed with his praises, and he actually gave sixpence more for him
than he had done for Lord John.
Mr. Macaulay fetched an honourable price, and Lord Palmerston
commanded as high a sum as any one. " If his Lordship was not
exactly taken up at his full value—and in his opinion there was scarcely
a better man for John Bull's money—at all events his portrait would
come in capitally for a sporting-crib. It would adorn the bar of any
house where the ' Eancy' congregated."
Lord Manners, the Marquis oe Blandford, Lord Seymour, Mr.
Spooner, Mr. George Thompson, and several others better known
than admired, were contemptuously refused; "he (the Pawnbroker)
would be sorry to have them at any price."
I had nearly forgotten to state that the Pawnbroker, whose remarks
and estimates I have been recording, was no less than the celebrated
Mr. Punch, who, from his long experience and connections, knows
the value of a political "Pledge" better than any one, and can
tell you, to the fraction of a probability, what chance there is of its
ever being redeemed.
I conclude by stating that if any statesman, eminent or otherwise,
who sets a high figure upon himself, wishes to ascertain his real value,
he had better send his portrait at once to Mr. Punch's shop, where he
wili be told in very plain figures the price he is worth, not exactly in
his own estimation, but in the estimation of the public.
N.B. No Irish Statesman, no Brass-band Man, need apply.
A SCENE ON THE AUSTRIAN FRONTIER.
See the Times, August &tk, 1852.
" Dey must not pass!" was the warning cry of the Austrian sentinel
To one whose little knapsack bore the books he loved so well.
" They must not pass ? Now, wherefore not ?" the wond'ring tourist
cried;
" No English book can pass mit me;" the sentinel replied.
The tourist laughed a scornful laugh; quoth he, " Indeed, I hope
There are few English books would please a Kaiser or a Pope;
But these are books in common use: plain truths and facts they tell—"
" Der Teufel! Den dey most not pass!" said the startled sentinel.
" This Handbook to North Germany, by worthy Mr. Murray,
Need scarcely put your Government in such a mighty flurry :
If tourists' handbooks be proscribed, pray, have you ever tried
To find a treasonable page in Bradshaw's Railway Guide?
This map, again, of Switzerland—nay, man, you needn't start or
Look black at such a little map, as if't were Magna Charta ;
I know it is the land of Tell, but, curb your idle fury—
We've not the slightest hope, to-day, to find a Tell in your eye (Uri)."
" Sturmwetter !" said the sentinel, " Come ! cease di* idle babbles !
Was ist dis oder book I see ? Das Haus mit sieben Gabbles?
I nevvare heard of him bifor, ver mosh I wish I had,
For now Ich kann nicht let him pass, for fear he should be bad.
Das Haus of Commons it must be ; Ja wohl! 'tis so, and den
Die Sieben Gabbles are de talk of your chief public men;
Potzmiekchen ! it is dreadful books. Ja ! Ja! I know him well;
Hoch Himmel! here he most not pass :" said the learned sentinel.
"Dis Plato, too, I ver mosh fear, he will corrupt the land,
He has soch many long big words, Ich kann nich onderstand."
"My friend," the tourist said, " I fear you're really in the way to
Quite change the proverb, and be fiiends with neither Truth nor Plato.
My books, 'tis true, are little worth, but they have served me long,
And I regard the greatness less than the nature of the wrong;
So, if the books must stay behind, I stay behind as well."
" Es ist mir nichts, mein lieber Freund," said the courteous sentinel.
A FORENSIC FIX.
The business of the Bar has lately diminished with such alarming
rapidity, that the Circuits are nearly abandoned, and the only bar mess
that remains in force is the terrific mess in which the Bar now finds
itself. Q. C. is begining to stand for Queer Case, in the imagination
of every one who peruses that once enviable appendage to a learned
name: while, as to the Serjeants, many of them find the coif so unpro-
ductive that they would gladly get it off their hands, or off their heads,
at a ruinous sacrifice. We have heard it rumoured that some of the
Serjeants will apply to the Government to be placed on the list of
non-commissioned officers, under the new Miiitia Bill. They will
undertake to provide their own powder, which is now of no use to their
wigs, and, though not recently accustomed to go into action, they will
resume their old practice witti alacrity.
The Parliamentary Races.
Many riders have been thrown during the recent Election Heats,
and have met with various accidents ; but for none do we feel so deeply
as for the noble Hobsman who lost his seat at Cockermouth, just as
every one made sure that he was going to win. This accident is the
more to be regretted, as he will not be able to show at the next Par-
liamentary meet, where his absence will be severely feit, for there is
not another Horsman in the country to be compared to him—more
especially for a good Steeple-chase.
Agricultural Absurdity.—A Protestant farmer is a most unrea-
sonable fellow: what he wants is, that the Plough should have more
than its Share in the national prosperity.
93
WHAT I SAW AT THE PAWNBROKER'S.
BY NO MATTER WHO.
Y accident I was present at the Pawn-
broker's, at the time that Mr. Collins
was "pledging" ([believe that is the
term) the portraits that had been en-
trusted to his care for publication in
his abruptly-finished work of Eminent
Statesmen.
This was what I saw.
The first portrait he handed up was
one of Lord Malmesbury. Eor this
the sum of 9s. Sd. was offered — the
Pawnbroker couldn't possibly give more,
he should lose by it as i!; was; but as
payment was tendered in Austrian bank-
notes, all dirty and torn and tattered,
not unlike his Lordship's reputation,
the portrait was withdrawn, after a
liberal proposition had been made by
Mr. Collins, but refused, to take half
the sum (4». lOd.) in English money.
The next statesman handed up for valuation was Mr. Benjamin
Disraeli. The peculiarity of this portrait was that it had two faces,
one on each side. One portrait had evidently been taken years ago, and
displayed a Liberal cast of countenance, round and good-humoured,
with a happy smile about the lips, as if the gentleman was pleased
with himself and all the world. The other one showed a Conservative
turn of face, with all the features narrowed and pinched, and a cunning
expression in the eye that seemed to say, " Trust me, and I'll take you
in." The Pawnbroker couldn't give more than £1 for the two portraits.
It was a great pity they were not larger; they would have made a
capital sign-post for an ale-house—for, as it swung backwards and
forwards, it would have shown a different face on each side. One face
would have attracted the Free-traders, and the other one would have
taken in the agriculturists. "Ultimately this Janus-portrait of a states-
man was taken in for 25*.
Lord Derby was the next " Eminent Statesman" taken in hand.
The Pawnbroker took it to the window, held it up, turned it in all
possible directions, but apparently could not see his Lordship in a
favourable light. "Ten shillings," he said, " and really that's more
than his intrinsic value. I know his Lordship will very quickly be on
the shelf, and then he will remain there all his life." Lord Derby
was ultimately withdrawn, for Mr. Collins felt that, as an English-
man, he could not let the Prime Minister of his country go for so
small a figure.
The Colonial Secretary, and a bag-full of Under-Secretaries were
the next handed over the counter. They belonged to the present
Ministry, but the Pawnbroker indignantly rejected them, saying,
" They are all a bad lot, and he should be sorry to have anything to do
with them."
An honourable exception was made, however, in favour of Lord
Maidstone, who fetched as much as Is. &%d. The Pawnbroker thought
he should get his money back again by selling his Lordship (who, he
had been told," had some stuff in him," and I, for my part, did not
doubt the stuff in the least) in Holywell Street, where his portrait
would come in well as a frontispiece to the next edition of " Jeames'
Songster."
Other "Statesmen" fetched better prices. A faithful portrait of
Lobd John Russell brought 3/. 15s. Qd., though the Pawnbroker was
afraid " he should have to wait some time for his money, for it was ex-
traordinary how long the people were in appreciating his Lordship's
real merits."
A good sum was given for a telling portrait of Joseph Hume—for
" now that he was better known, and seen in his proper colours, (here
the Pawnbroker rubbed off with his sleeve a quantity of dust that had
settled upon its countenance,) honest old Joseph's value was, he was
glad to say, better appreciated every year." The shopman's liberality
warmed with his praises, and he actually gave sixpence more for him
than he had done for Lord John.
Mr. Macaulay fetched an honourable price, and Lord Palmerston
commanded as high a sum as any one. " If his Lordship was not
exactly taken up at his full value—and in his opinion there was scarcely
a better man for John Bull's money—at all events his portrait would
come in capitally for a sporting-crib. It would adorn the bar of any
house where the ' Eancy' congregated."
Lord Manners, the Marquis oe Blandford, Lord Seymour, Mr.
Spooner, Mr. George Thompson, and several others better known
than admired, were contemptuously refused; "he (the Pawnbroker)
would be sorry to have them at any price."
I had nearly forgotten to state that the Pawnbroker, whose remarks
and estimates I have been recording, was no less than the celebrated
Mr. Punch, who, from his long experience and connections, knows
the value of a political "Pledge" better than any one, and can
tell you, to the fraction of a probability, what chance there is of its
ever being redeemed.
I conclude by stating that if any statesman, eminent or otherwise,
who sets a high figure upon himself, wishes to ascertain his real value,
he had better send his portrait at once to Mr. Punch's shop, where he
wili be told in very plain figures the price he is worth, not exactly in
his own estimation, but in the estimation of the public.
N.B. No Irish Statesman, no Brass-band Man, need apply.
A SCENE ON THE AUSTRIAN FRONTIER.
See the Times, August &tk, 1852.
" Dey must not pass!" was the warning cry of the Austrian sentinel
To one whose little knapsack bore the books he loved so well.
" They must not pass ? Now, wherefore not ?" the wond'ring tourist
cried;
" No English book can pass mit me;" the sentinel replied.
The tourist laughed a scornful laugh; quoth he, " Indeed, I hope
There are few English books would please a Kaiser or a Pope;
But these are books in common use: plain truths and facts they tell—"
" Der Teufel! Den dey most not pass!" said the startled sentinel.
" This Handbook to North Germany, by worthy Mr. Murray,
Need scarcely put your Government in such a mighty flurry :
If tourists' handbooks be proscribed, pray, have you ever tried
To find a treasonable page in Bradshaw's Railway Guide?
This map, again, of Switzerland—nay, man, you needn't start or
Look black at such a little map, as if't were Magna Charta ;
I know it is the land of Tell, but, curb your idle fury—
We've not the slightest hope, to-day, to find a Tell in your eye (Uri)."
" Sturmwetter !" said the sentinel, " Come ! cease di* idle babbles !
Was ist dis oder book I see ? Das Haus mit sieben Gabbles?
I nevvare heard of him bifor, ver mosh I wish I had,
For now Ich kann nicht let him pass, for fear he should be bad.
Das Haus of Commons it must be ; Ja wohl! 'tis so, and den
Die Sieben Gabbles are de talk of your chief public men;
Potzmiekchen ! it is dreadful books. Ja ! Ja! I know him well;
Hoch Himmel! here he most not pass :" said the learned sentinel.
"Dis Plato, too, I ver mosh fear, he will corrupt the land,
He has soch many long big words, Ich kann nich onderstand."
"My friend," the tourist said, " I fear you're really in the way to
Quite change the proverb, and be fiiends with neither Truth nor Plato.
My books, 'tis true, are little worth, but they have served me long,
And I regard the greatness less than the nature of the wrong;
So, if the books must stay behind, I stay behind as well."
" Es ist mir nichts, mein lieber Freund," said the courteous sentinel.
A FORENSIC FIX.
The business of the Bar has lately diminished with such alarming
rapidity, that the Circuits are nearly abandoned, and the only bar mess
that remains in force is the terrific mess in which the Bar now finds
itself. Q. C. is begining to stand for Queer Case, in the imagination
of every one who peruses that once enviable appendage to a learned
name: while, as to the Serjeants, many of them find the coif so unpro-
ductive that they would gladly get it off their hands, or off their heads,
at a ruinous sacrifice. We have heard it rumoured that some of the
Serjeants will apply to the Government to be placed on the list of
non-commissioned officers, under the new Miiitia Bill. They will
undertake to provide their own powder, which is now of no use to their
wigs, and, though not recently accustomed to go into action, they will
resume their old practice witti alacrity.
The Parliamentary Races.
Many riders have been thrown during the recent Election Heats,
and have met with various accidents ; but for none do we feel so deeply
as for the noble Hobsman who lost his seat at Cockermouth, just as
every one made sure that he was going to win. This accident is the
more to be regretted, as he will not be able to show at the next Par-
liamentary meet, where his absence will be severely feit, for there is
not another Horsman in the country to be compared to him—more
especially for a good Steeple-chase.
Agricultural Absurdity.—A Protestant farmer is a most unrea-
sonable fellow: what he wants is, that the Plough should have more
than its Share in the national prosperity.