DOI issue:
July to December, 1852
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16610#0130
122
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
A GREAT BABY CASE.
T all times Punch delights to meet in
the Times the letters " S. G. O."
There they are, the letters signifying
work—work—work : and always noble
work: work that is to pick up poor
humanity out of the mud it may crawl,
or be crushed in: work that lays hold
of selfishness by the collar, and strives
to give it a good shaking, quickening its
pulses, and opening its
eyes : work that gives its
strong right arm to timid,
pining misfortune, and
strives to bring it into
broad, healthy daylight,
that it may be seen, and
seen, sympathised with,
and comforted. Well,
S. G. O. has now taken
the babies - of England
—not all of them, but
many thousand, cheated,
defrauded babies—under
his pen feathers, doing
his best to have them
righted. He constitutes
himself Chancellor pro-
tective of babes, cheated
of their own milk: the
milk that they bring with
them ; the milk that, for
a certain price, is sold in Portman Square and Belgravia.
" I do not know," says S. G. O —
" I do not know which to rate highest, the cruelty or the immorality to which the
wet-nurse system offers so liberal a premium. Ladies have no shame, show no
reluctance -in hiring the service of ' a healthy young single woman ' to give to their
infant the food they refuse it, and which she must take from her own."
And the Registrar-General shows that the defrauded suckling
generally dies! Thus, poor little Turnham-Green is sacrificed to
Belgravia; weak, puny little Peckham is offered up to May Fair.
" Usually," says the Registrar-General, " in about four or five months
death occurs, literally and truly for the want of nature's own nutriment
—breast-milk." The milk sold to four months' old Marquis—to
suckling Earl!
Well, S. G. 0. admits that a baby may be a " bore:" a very great
" bore " indeed, if arriving in the world early in the fashionable season.
And nursing, he thinks, may spoil a figure; and, moreover, absolutely
make a mother look like a mother—not at all an agreeable reflection,
you know, in Lady Rosa's looking-glass.
" I will not for a moment dispute but that it would ' annoy Hbnky to have the
nurse shuffling in with baby at all hours of the night;' still, allowing to wealth and
high-breeding, fashionable refinement, &c, every protection their vested interests
demand, I must yet question whether Lady Bella's season's enjoyment, her
husband Henry's uubroken after-House-of-Commons sleep, the preservation of her
girlish figure, are worth the moral cost of a premium to immorality, or the cruel cost
of death to the infant whose mother's milk has been bought away from it."
All this is very strong; and S. G. 0. continues, becoming almost
vehement in his indignation at the immorality of the high lady who
will buy the milk of nice tidy Mary "—it may be a " fallen " Mary
—but then the fall has been so pathetically accounted for—that it were
scarcely so much a fall as a trip or slip. And Mary for a while lives
well and reposes, like a jewel, in velvet; until the little lord is weaned,
and then the world is all before her, and she may " sin again." But
all wet-nurses are not of these. Many are married women :
" So they are ; and the father ha to see his own child waste, or for pay receive a
bastard's food, because his own or wife's poverty has forced him and her to barter
their own infant's proper nourishment, that some high-bred or wealthy mother may
save her figure or enjoy her season of gaiety."
These be bitter words: but like bitter aloes, they are true things.
And is there no remedy for this ? Shall May Fair continue to have its
Moloch? Shall mother's milk—like milk of asses—be still vendible at
great houses ? No ; we espy a very probable remedy.
A time may come when the Morning Post shall rejoicingly announce
that the most illustrious wife and highest mother in the land is about
to have even the fullness of her domestic happiness increased ; and
further that the Post is almost authorised to state that—" No Wet
Nurse need apply."
Now this one fact, with all the force of strongest example, would
almost stop the sale of mother's milk in high places. Never mind the
calls of daily duty and daily ceremony ; it matters not that a Drawing-
room is to be held—that the Earl of Derby is to be honoured with
an interview—that a State dinner is to be given—that Uncle Leopold
is to be visited: nothing shall interfere with baby's privileges—baby's
rights to its own milk ; and that baby, so nursed, so nourished, will have
saved the lives of thousands of babies by making Duchesses and
Marchionesses suckle their own little ones—the future ornaments of the
House of Lords.
This is the example that is needed in high life. Without it great
babies will continue to fatten on the natural property of mean ones;
and the suckling Earl of Piccadilly cheat little Whitechapel, that
after a due course of " convulsions, dysentery, marasmus," &c, goes off
in about four or five months " for the want of nature's nutriment—
breast-milk."
At a progress to Balmoral, how the mothers of England would
crowd to look at baby—the baby nursed by the mother on "whose
dominions the sun never sets!"
THE PRIDE OF LONDON !
{Being a slight liberty taken with "The Bride of Abydos")
Know ye the stream where the cesspool and sewer
Are emptied of all their foul slushes and slimes,
Where the feculent tide of rich liquid manure
Now sickens the City, now maddens the Times?
Know ye the filth of that great open sink,
Which no filter can sweeten, no "navvy" can drink :
Where in boats overcrowded the Cockney is borne
To the mud-bounded gardens of joyous Cremorne:
Where the gas-works rain down the blackest of soot,
And the oath of the coalwhipper never is mute :
Where the liquified mud which as " water " we buy,
With the richest of pea-soup in colour may vie,
And deodorisation completely defy:
Where the air's fill'd with smells that no nose can define,
And the banks teem prolific with corpses canine ?
'Tis the stream of the Thames! 'tis the Pride of the Town!
Can a nuisance so dear to us e'er be put down ?
Oh! fouler than words can in decency tell
Are the sights we see there, and the scents which we smell!
"THE DEVOURING ELEMENT."
Penny-a-Liners have long been in the habit of calling fire " the
Devouring Element;" but the fire will soon be put out, we think, by
Steam. Only look at the accidents on the American steam-boats, and the
daily accidents that occur on our beautifully-managed railways—all
caused by Steam! We hope, therefore, for the future, that when
penny-a-liners are describing any casualty of the above sort, they will
always allude to Steam as being " The Devouring Element." Con-
sidering the heaps of pennies they must have cleared by this time out
of Steam, the least they can do is to show their gratitude by awarding
to it the "devouring" superiority. Henceforth, let it be understood,
Steam is promoted {vice Fire, put out) to be "The Devouring Ele-
ment." From this very day, Steam is the penny-a-liner's Element,
{par excellence) of Destruction!
A SERIOUS RAILWAY GRIEVANCE.
" Mr. Punch, Sir,—Bound with a few friends on a short pleasure ex-
cursion, I repaired, the other day, to one of the principal railways. In
consequence of having misunderstood Bradshaw we got to the station
half an hour too soon, and not knowing how we could more appro-
priately fill up the time, we determined to employ it in making our
wills. On inquiry we found that there was not a single solicitor, or
even a lawyer's clerk in attendance, nor even one will-paper to be had
at the book-stall. I trust that, through the influence of your powerful
journal, on all the stations of every line of railway proper accommoda-
tion will be provided for performing that serious duty, which, if
previously neglected, must suggest itself to everybody who steps into
a train, particularly if in the position of your humble servant,
" Paterfamilias."
Speaking Out.
The Pays concludes a long article, in which a list is given of all the
towns that have sent in petitions praying of Louis Napoleon to be
Emperor, by saying " in fact, all France has spoken out." If this is the
way that France speaks out, better far that she were dumb!
Apropos of Cahill, D.D.—No wonder that Cahill claims homage
to the " seal of the Fisherman:"—when he's such a very great Master
of Billingsgate !
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
A GREAT BABY CASE.
T all times Punch delights to meet in
the Times the letters " S. G. O."
There they are, the letters signifying
work—work—work : and always noble
work: work that is to pick up poor
humanity out of the mud it may crawl,
or be crushed in: work that lays hold
of selfishness by the collar, and strives
to give it a good shaking, quickening its
pulses, and opening its
eyes : work that gives its
strong right arm to timid,
pining misfortune, and
strives to bring it into
broad, healthy daylight,
that it may be seen, and
seen, sympathised with,
and comforted. Well,
S. G. O. has now taken
the babies - of England
—not all of them, but
many thousand, cheated,
defrauded babies—under
his pen feathers, doing
his best to have them
righted. He constitutes
himself Chancellor pro-
tective of babes, cheated
of their own milk: the
milk that they bring with
them ; the milk that, for
a certain price, is sold in Portman Square and Belgravia.
" I do not know," says S. G. O —
" I do not know which to rate highest, the cruelty or the immorality to which the
wet-nurse system offers so liberal a premium. Ladies have no shame, show no
reluctance -in hiring the service of ' a healthy young single woman ' to give to their
infant the food they refuse it, and which she must take from her own."
And the Registrar-General shows that the defrauded suckling
generally dies! Thus, poor little Turnham-Green is sacrificed to
Belgravia; weak, puny little Peckham is offered up to May Fair.
" Usually," says the Registrar-General, " in about four or five months
death occurs, literally and truly for the want of nature's own nutriment
—breast-milk." The milk sold to four months' old Marquis—to
suckling Earl!
Well, S. G. 0. admits that a baby may be a " bore:" a very great
" bore " indeed, if arriving in the world early in the fashionable season.
And nursing, he thinks, may spoil a figure; and, moreover, absolutely
make a mother look like a mother—not at all an agreeable reflection,
you know, in Lady Rosa's looking-glass.
" I will not for a moment dispute but that it would ' annoy Hbnky to have the
nurse shuffling in with baby at all hours of the night;' still, allowing to wealth and
high-breeding, fashionable refinement, &c, every protection their vested interests
demand, I must yet question whether Lady Bella's season's enjoyment, her
husband Henry's uubroken after-House-of-Commons sleep, the preservation of her
girlish figure, are worth the moral cost of a premium to immorality, or the cruel cost
of death to the infant whose mother's milk has been bought away from it."
All this is very strong; and S. G. 0. continues, becoming almost
vehement in his indignation at the immorality of the high lady who
will buy the milk of nice tidy Mary "—it may be a " fallen " Mary
—but then the fall has been so pathetically accounted for—that it were
scarcely so much a fall as a trip or slip. And Mary for a while lives
well and reposes, like a jewel, in velvet; until the little lord is weaned,
and then the world is all before her, and she may " sin again." But
all wet-nurses are not of these. Many are married women :
" So they are ; and the father ha to see his own child waste, or for pay receive a
bastard's food, because his own or wife's poverty has forced him and her to barter
their own infant's proper nourishment, that some high-bred or wealthy mother may
save her figure or enjoy her season of gaiety."
These be bitter words: but like bitter aloes, they are true things.
And is there no remedy for this ? Shall May Fair continue to have its
Moloch? Shall mother's milk—like milk of asses—be still vendible at
great houses ? No ; we espy a very probable remedy.
A time may come when the Morning Post shall rejoicingly announce
that the most illustrious wife and highest mother in the land is about
to have even the fullness of her domestic happiness increased ; and
further that the Post is almost authorised to state that—" No Wet
Nurse need apply."
Now this one fact, with all the force of strongest example, would
almost stop the sale of mother's milk in high places. Never mind the
calls of daily duty and daily ceremony ; it matters not that a Drawing-
room is to be held—that the Earl of Derby is to be honoured with
an interview—that a State dinner is to be given—that Uncle Leopold
is to be visited: nothing shall interfere with baby's privileges—baby's
rights to its own milk ; and that baby, so nursed, so nourished, will have
saved the lives of thousands of babies by making Duchesses and
Marchionesses suckle their own little ones—the future ornaments of the
House of Lords.
This is the example that is needed in high life. Without it great
babies will continue to fatten on the natural property of mean ones;
and the suckling Earl of Piccadilly cheat little Whitechapel, that
after a due course of " convulsions, dysentery, marasmus," &c, goes off
in about four or five months " for the want of nature's nutriment—
breast-milk."
At a progress to Balmoral, how the mothers of England would
crowd to look at baby—the baby nursed by the mother on "whose
dominions the sun never sets!"
THE PRIDE OF LONDON !
{Being a slight liberty taken with "The Bride of Abydos")
Know ye the stream where the cesspool and sewer
Are emptied of all their foul slushes and slimes,
Where the feculent tide of rich liquid manure
Now sickens the City, now maddens the Times?
Know ye the filth of that great open sink,
Which no filter can sweeten, no "navvy" can drink :
Where in boats overcrowded the Cockney is borne
To the mud-bounded gardens of joyous Cremorne:
Where the gas-works rain down the blackest of soot,
And the oath of the coalwhipper never is mute :
Where the liquified mud which as " water " we buy,
With the richest of pea-soup in colour may vie,
And deodorisation completely defy:
Where the air's fill'd with smells that no nose can define,
And the banks teem prolific with corpses canine ?
'Tis the stream of the Thames! 'tis the Pride of the Town!
Can a nuisance so dear to us e'er be put down ?
Oh! fouler than words can in decency tell
Are the sights we see there, and the scents which we smell!
"THE DEVOURING ELEMENT."
Penny-a-Liners have long been in the habit of calling fire " the
Devouring Element;" but the fire will soon be put out, we think, by
Steam. Only look at the accidents on the American steam-boats, and the
daily accidents that occur on our beautifully-managed railways—all
caused by Steam! We hope, therefore, for the future, that when
penny-a-liners are describing any casualty of the above sort, they will
always allude to Steam as being " The Devouring Element." Con-
sidering the heaps of pennies they must have cleared by this time out
of Steam, the least they can do is to show their gratitude by awarding
to it the "devouring" superiority. Henceforth, let it be understood,
Steam is promoted {vice Fire, put out) to be "The Devouring Ele-
ment." From this very day, Steam is the penny-a-liner's Element,
{par excellence) of Destruction!
A SERIOUS RAILWAY GRIEVANCE.
" Mr. Punch, Sir,—Bound with a few friends on a short pleasure ex-
cursion, I repaired, the other day, to one of the principal railways. In
consequence of having misunderstood Bradshaw we got to the station
half an hour too soon, and not knowing how we could more appro-
priately fill up the time, we determined to employ it in making our
wills. On inquiry we found that there was not a single solicitor, or
even a lawyer's clerk in attendance, nor even one will-paper to be had
at the book-stall. I trust that, through the influence of your powerful
journal, on all the stations of every line of railway proper accommoda-
tion will be provided for performing that serious duty, which, if
previously neglected, must suggest itself to everybody who steps into
a train, particularly if in the position of your humble servant,
" Paterfamilias."
Speaking Out.
The Pays concludes a long article, in which a list is given of all the
towns that have sent in petitions praying of Louis Napoleon to be
Emperor, by saying " in fact, all France has spoken out." If this is the
way that France speaks out, better far that she were dumb!
Apropos of Cahill, D.D.—No wonder that Cahill claims homage
to the " seal of the Fisherman:"—when he's such a very great Master
of Billingsgate !