DOI issue:
January to June, 1853
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16611#0080
72 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
Heaven bless us ! Frederick comes in, and lie looks—no, not I Lord Aberdeen. Nay, fear me not. At Christmas I explained
What we should do, if we in place remained.
I'll sayno more, /cannot quite forget
The claims of custom and of etiquette.
We must not talk, as Derby ought to know,
angry, not vexed; but pale and—and though I smile at him, and then
down at the baby, he takes no notice of the little sleeping cherub.
What is the matter ?
A wreck—at least, the fear, the all but horrid certainty of a
wreck. "My love," says Frederick, " we have solemn reason to be On Bills they're framing in the House below,
thankful." Lord Derby. Come, that's all bosh. Now, Aberdeen, speak out,
" I am thankful—ever, ever shall be. But look at baby—it's the j And let the country know what you 're about.
child of the old woman's daughter "-_ Lord Aberdeen. They publish (near where Paul's big belfry chimes)
And Frederick looks at it: and all his dear, good heart breaks in a An unpretending trifle called The Times ;
smile in his face, as he stoops, and pressing me, kisses the httle darling : Over your toast and eggs, my Lord, at eight
in my lap. If I don't feel that I love the dear Httle angel all the more ! j To-morrow, study that. Till then, you '11 wait.
" Poor httle thing," says Fred with such a mournful look. Lord Derby. But you '11 say something ?
"Dear heart! Isn't it beautiful? And I never looked on one so J Lord Aberdeen. Saying what I've said,
innocent." 1've said my say; so no more on that head.
" Poor httle soul," says Fred again, and shakes his head: and I am | Lord Derby. Then, I conclude, you've nothing to reveal,
sure something has happened—must have happened. ! Lord Aberdeen. Stop till you see our cards. It's Bussell's dea..
" There's bad news, Lotty, down, on the beach." Lord Derby. Ah ! Teh us one.
"Bad news ? " and I press the baby.— Lord Aberdeen. Well, is it any Ube
" Very bad. Hush! I have been among the men ; have sent out j To say we shan't, as you did, play the deuce ?
far and wide upon the shore—but can learn nothing. It is thought— ' Lord Derby. Thou mock'st me, Scotchman. Dost thou seek a row ?
it is believed—it is almost certain—that they have all gone down."— ! _ LL0BX> Aberdeen bows.
" Ah ? Who ? "—■ i Ha ! never think to answer with a bow.
" God help it," says Fred, looking sadly at the infant—" God help
the poor thing ! For, I take it, God alone will be its father."
" You never mean that—oh, that poor dear woman—the young wife
--the mother !—Oh, Frederick, is there no hope ?"
" Along the beach spars and boards, and kegs belonging to the poor
fellows' vessel, have been flung ashore. The oldest, roughest sailors,
shake their heads—no doubt of it—that's the general bebef—that all
have perished."
" And the poor, dear, wretched woman?"-
Am I to understand you '11 say no more ? [Lord Aberdeen bows.
I say, don't bow. I told you that before.
You've got no measures, that's what I conclude ?
[Lord Aberdeen bows.
You're so polite, that it's uncommon rude.
Well, silence gives consent. What! silent still ?
[Lord Aberdeen bows.
Then I '11 be off to dinner, that I will:
To a right pretty pass have matters come.
When England's Crown's First Minister is dumb.
It was not so with me. When in your station,
As yet, she knows nothing of her loss," answers Frederick.
He has scarcely uttered the last word, than a fierce, wild shriek as of
a broken heart pierces me like a sword: a shriek, and then a fall as of j I spoke upon the slightest provocation
some one, falling dead.
The scream awakes the baby; it suddenly cries, as though, poor
thing, it answered to the misery it was, in some way, to share. It
cries, and violently stirs; when I raise it to my bosom, and with a sob
or two, and putting its httle hand upon my neck, it subsides again to
sleep.
PARLIAMENT MADE EASY.
a drama, in two acts,
As performed by Her Majesty's Servants and Opposition, at the Theatre
Royal, Westminster, on Thursday, February 10th, 1853.
ACT I.
Scene—The House of Lords.
Present — The Lord Chancellor, on woolsack, C. The Earl of
Aberdeen and " his accomplices in conspiracy," L. The Earl op
Derby and his band of patriots, B. Lights up.
Chorus L.
With joy let us hasten our Cranworth to greet,
Who to-night on the Woolsack has taken his seat.
May his labours be light, and his duties be clear,
Till he comes to his pension, five thousand a year.
Lord Cranworth. I thank you all. I'm sure you 're most polite,
Now let us take the business of the night.
Lord St. Leonards. Behold these bills ! Nay, never look so scared—
With skill and caution have they been prepared.
They 're ah on Law Beform.
Several young Lords {yawning). A precious treat.
Lord Cranworth {aside). He cuts the ground from underneath my feet;
But I '11 dissemble. Lay them on the board:
I '11 read them over when I've time, my Lord.
I, too, shah have some bills to introduce
On the same subject—till which time, a truce.
Lord Aberdeen. I beg to move this house do now adjourn.
Lord Derby. Not quite so fast, my Lords. I wish to learn
What our new Government intends to do.
Will they obhge us with a word or two ?
I want no vague, ^definite harangue,
No speeches charged with diplomatic slang,
But a specific statement of each measure
On which they mean to ask your Lordships' pleasure.
Lord Fitzwilliam {interposing). My Lord of Aberdeen, 1 pray be shy
Of humouring Derby's curiosity.
What right on earth has he to put a series
Of such uncalled for and unusual queries ?
An Unknown Figure rises.
Figure. I beg to move this House adjourn.
Lord Cranworth. 'Tis done.
Reporters. Up, by Saint Stenograph ! What blessed fun.
{Their Lordships disperse.
Chorus of Reporters.
The Ins and Outs to dine are gone,
Or, perhaps, to get some tea;
The messenger is left alone
To lock our gallery.
Away with note-book, pencil, pen,—
One's night's not thrown away!—
Uprouse ye then, my gallery gallery men,
And use it as ye may,
And use it as ye may.
Tableau of exulting Reporters, and Curtain.
ACT II.
Scene.—The House of Commons.
Present.—Lord John Blssell, Lord Palmerston, Mr. Glad-
stone, Sir A. Cockbtjrn, and other Ministers, B. A Caucasian
Arab, L. A large table, C. The Speaker seated above it. Clerks
below him.
Speaker. Up with you all, you Ministerial band,
And in a circle round my table stand! [The Ministers rush to the table.
Speaker. Now ah of you take books. Ah ready there ?
Sir James Graham {speaking nautically as First Lord of the Admi-
ralty). Ay, ay, Sir.
Speaker. Silence, James. Now, Swear !
All. We swear !
Speaker. Then sign that book, and to your various places.
Now cut away with public work hke blazes. _ [They retire.
Lord John Russell {advances to table). It seems convenient, Sir, that
I should mention
What measures 'tis the Government's intention
To introduce this session, for no doubt,
A maddened Reporter who vainly strives to catch what Lord J. B. is
murmuring confidentially. Why doesn't some one ask him to
speak out ? [The Serjeant-at-Arms looks up awfully.
Another Reporter. I say, he heard you.
First Reporter {wildly). _ Bless me, I don't care.
Who's to report while he keeps mumbling there ?
Lord John Russell. Ahem ! The Estimates will first be taken,
We wish to save—I mean to save our ba con.
The men we have suffice us for the present,
But we require more money.
Heaven bless us ! Frederick comes in, and lie looks—no, not I Lord Aberdeen. Nay, fear me not. At Christmas I explained
What we should do, if we in place remained.
I'll sayno more, /cannot quite forget
The claims of custom and of etiquette.
We must not talk, as Derby ought to know,
angry, not vexed; but pale and—and though I smile at him, and then
down at the baby, he takes no notice of the little sleeping cherub.
What is the matter ?
A wreck—at least, the fear, the all but horrid certainty of a
wreck. "My love," says Frederick, " we have solemn reason to be On Bills they're framing in the House below,
thankful." Lord Derby. Come, that's all bosh. Now, Aberdeen, speak out,
" I am thankful—ever, ever shall be. But look at baby—it's the j And let the country know what you 're about.
child of the old woman's daughter "-_ Lord Aberdeen. They publish (near where Paul's big belfry chimes)
And Frederick looks at it: and all his dear, good heart breaks in a An unpretending trifle called The Times ;
smile in his face, as he stoops, and pressing me, kisses the httle darling : Over your toast and eggs, my Lord, at eight
in my lap. If I don't feel that I love the dear Httle angel all the more ! j To-morrow, study that. Till then, you '11 wait.
" Poor httle thing," says Fred with such a mournful look. Lord Derby. But you '11 say something ?
"Dear heart! Isn't it beautiful? And I never looked on one so J Lord Aberdeen. Saying what I've said,
innocent." 1've said my say; so no more on that head.
" Poor httle soul," says Fred again, and shakes his head: and I am | Lord Derby. Then, I conclude, you've nothing to reveal,
sure something has happened—must have happened. ! Lord Aberdeen. Stop till you see our cards. It's Bussell's dea..
" There's bad news, Lotty, down, on the beach." Lord Derby. Ah ! Teh us one.
"Bad news ? " and I press the baby.— Lord Aberdeen. Well, is it any Ube
" Very bad. Hush! I have been among the men ; have sent out j To say we shan't, as you did, play the deuce ?
far and wide upon the shore—but can learn nothing. It is thought— ' Lord Derby. Thou mock'st me, Scotchman. Dost thou seek a row ?
it is believed—it is almost certain—that they have all gone down."— ! _ LL0BX> Aberdeen bows.
" Ah ? Who ? "—■ i Ha ! never think to answer with a bow.
" God help it," says Fred, looking sadly at the infant—" God help
the poor thing ! For, I take it, God alone will be its father."
" You never mean that—oh, that poor dear woman—the young wife
--the mother !—Oh, Frederick, is there no hope ?"
" Along the beach spars and boards, and kegs belonging to the poor
fellows' vessel, have been flung ashore. The oldest, roughest sailors,
shake their heads—no doubt of it—that's the general bebef—that all
have perished."
" And the poor, dear, wretched woman?"-
Am I to understand you '11 say no more ? [Lord Aberdeen bows.
I say, don't bow. I told you that before.
You've got no measures, that's what I conclude ?
[Lord Aberdeen bows.
You're so polite, that it's uncommon rude.
Well, silence gives consent. What! silent still ?
[Lord Aberdeen bows.
Then I '11 be off to dinner, that I will:
To a right pretty pass have matters come.
When England's Crown's First Minister is dumb.
It was not so with me. When in your station,
As yet, she knows nothing of her loss," answers Frederick.
He has scarcely uttered the last word, than a fierce, wild shriek as of
a broken heart pierces me like a sword: a shriek, and then a fall as of j I spoke upon the slightest provocation
some one, falling dead.
The scream awakes the baby; it suddenly cries, as though, poor
thing, it answered to the misery it was, in some way, to share. It
cries, and violently stirs; when I raise it to my bosom, and with a sob
or two, and putting its httle hand upon my neck, it subsides again to
sleep.
PARLIAMENT MADE EASY.
a drama, in two acts,
As performed by Her Majesty's Servants and Opposition, at the Theatre
Royal, Westminster, on Thursday, February 10th, 1853.
ACT I.
Scene—The House of Lords.
Present — The Lord Chancellor, on woolsack, C. The Earl of
Aberdeen and " his accomplices in conspiracy," L. The Earl op
Derby and his band of patriots, B. Lights up.
Chorus L.
With joy let us hasten our Cranworth to greet,
Who to-night on the Woolsack has taken his seat.
May his labours be light, and his duties be clear,
Till he comes to his pension, five thousand a year.
Lord Cranworth. I thank you all. I'm sure you 're most polite,
Now let us take the business of the night.
Lord St. Leonards. Behold these bills ! Nay, never look so scared—
With skill and caution have they been prepared.
They 're ah on Law Beform.
Several young Lords {yawning). A precious treat.
Lord Cranworth {aside). He cuts the ground from underneath my feet;
But I '11 dissemble. Lay them on the board:
I '11 read them over when I've time, my Lord.
I, too, shah have some bills to introduce
On the same subject—till which time, a truce.
Lord Aberdeen. I beg to move this house do now adjourn.
Lord Derby. Not quite so fast, my Lords. I wish to learn
What our new Government intends to do.
Will they obhge us with a word or two ?
I want no vague, ^definite harangue,
No speeches charged with diplomatic slang,
But a specific statement of each measure
On which they mean to ask your Lordships' pleasure.
Lord Fitzwilliam {interposing). My Lord of Aberdeen, 1 pray be shy
Of humouring Derby's curiosity.
What right on earth has he to put a series
Of such uncalled for and unusual queries ?
An Unknown Figure rises.
Figure. I beg to move this House adjourn.
Lord Cranworth. 'Tis done.
Reporters. Up, by Saint Stenograph ! What blessed fun.
{Their Lordships disperse.
Chorus of Reporters.
The Ins and Outs to dine are gone,
Or, perhaps, to get some tea;
The messenger is left alone
To lock our gallery.
Away with note-book, pencil, pen,—
One's night's not thrown away!—
Uprouse ye then, my gallery gallery men,
And use it as ye may,
And use it as ye may.
Tableau of exulting Reporters, and Curtain.
ACT II.
Scene.—The House of Commons.
Present.—Lord John Blssell, Lord Palmerston, Mr. Glad-
stone, Sir A. Cockbtjrn, and other Ministers, B. A Caucasian
Arab, L. A large table, C. The Speaker seated above it. Clerks
below him.
Speaker. Up with you all, you Ministerial band,
And in a circle round my table stand! [The Ministers rush to the table.
Speaker. Now ah of you take books. Ah ready there ?
Sir James Graham {speaking nautically as First Lord of the Admi-
ralty). Ay, ay, Sir.
Speaker. Silence, James. Now, Swear !
All. We swear !
Speaker. Then sign that book, and to your various places.
Now cut away with public work hke blazes. _ [They retire.
Lord John Russell {advances to table). It seems convenient, Sir, that
I should mention
What measures 'tis the Government's intention
To introduce this session, for no doubt,
A maddened Reporter who vainly strives to catch what Lord J. B. is
murmuring confidentially. Why doesn't some one ask him to
speak out ? [The Serjeant-at-Arms looks up awfully.
Another Reporter. I say, he heard you.
First Reporter {wildly). _ Bless me, I don't care.
Who's to report while he keeps mumbling there ?
Lord John Russell. Ahem ! The Estimates will first be taken,
We wish to save—I mean to save our ba con.
The men we have suffice us for the present,
But we require more money.