DOI Heft:
August 1, 1857
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16620#0062
50
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
f August 1, 1857.
A MIDSUMMER MOBNING'S DREAM.
A More than commonly interesting " Marriage in High
Life" was reported the other day by our fashionable con-
temporary. This affair came off, not at All Swells', but at
St. Paul's Church, Knightsbridge. The reporter mentions
a remarkable feature of the entertainment—for such it
really appears to have been—in stating that
" Mendelssohn's ' Wedding March' was played upon the orpran as
the processiou moved up to the altar, and until the bride and bride-
groom had taken their places in front of the communion table."
In addition we are informed that—
" The service (performed with choral music) was unusually im-
pressive."
The bride and bridegroom on this occasion will perhaps
be surmised by some who know no better, to have been his
Grace, Theseus, Duke of Athens, and Her Majesty,
Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. The altar up to which
they moved to Mendelssohn's " Wedding March," may
be imagined to have been the Altar of Hymen; whose
torch may, for the nonce, have been placed upon it in lieu
of tapers. The choral music with which the service was
performed, and which was " unusually impressive," may be
supposed to have been borrowed from the same work as
the " March," and in being unusually impressive may be
conceived to have been unusually jolly.
Immediately on the conclusion of the ceremony, the
happy pair may be conjectured to have adjourned to the
mansion of the noble bridegroom, where, after partaking
of the customary collation, they witnessed a theatrical
entertainment, consisting of a mock tragedy, composed
by a humble dramatic author, and performed, in honour of
the occasion, by a company of amateurs of the working
classes.
A Shave.
Mr. Muntz leaves Parliament from ill health. We
hope he is not seriously ill or too unwell to enjoy the
wittiest thing that has ever been said in our time; but
which, if his indisposition is grave, we withdraw, with
ouOi, SUIIMEK DRESS. regret—namely, that he wants change of hair.
"Why, Fufp, my dear fellow, whatever have tou got ox?"
" Why, DfNT you see I—a Portable Kefrigerator: deuced comfortable this How to Get a Lady to show her Foot. — Praise
hot weather, I can tell you!" the foot of some one else!
AN ART-WELLINGTON.
The Duke passant, the Duke rampant, the Duke regardant, the
Duke _ cov.chaut, the Duke in almost all manner of attitudes, may
petuate their idea in marble. We can make a decent boot, and may
perhaps, make a tolerable statue of one.
The highest honour that we pay to our most illustrious personages
is that of applying their names to boots—we denominate our highlows
be said to have been designed by the competitors for the new Bluchers Alberts, Cobtjkgs—andour boot of boots is the Wel
Wellington Statue. A few more conceptions of the great Duke I kington. The most noble Order of the Boot is conferred on none
might be modelled-the Duke eating; the Duke drinking; the Duke i Princes a»d Warriors; there is the ^ewtonian theory and the
washing his handsthe Duke shaving himself; the Duke mending a
pen; the Duke cutting a cedar pencil, or, at an early period, scraping
a slate one: the young Duke, then Master Wellesley, doing a
Davy Lamp ; but there are no Newtons at Ms. Qd. or Davys at 12 s.
Indeed, the honour of the boot is very properly decreed only to
those who have won their spurs, and the recollection of this circum-
Said the bravest of young recruits,
I go where the cannons rattle,
My name with the names of boots
Shall shine for my deeds in battle !
sum. These would be simple designs; but if a more complex compo-1 stance may animate many a youthful private and predestined Field
sition were desired, the Duke might be represented as receiving the Marshal, whose feelings may be faintly expressed in the following
congratulations of Business—the figure ol Business being that of a lines:—
grocer m an apron, and Business having a pen behind his ear.
Awakened, at last, to the fact that we cannot make a statue our-
selves, we have invited foreign competition for the design of the
VV ellmgton Monument, but with indifferent results. The fact is, that
the statue ot a modern hero is a statue of clothes which are comical ™ > i t_ i_i v. -j i • u '"i. ti
and mal-p thp fio-m-P ^m-^Qtorl In- ti,™ „ ~Z, ' "5 V 1 LU11^Lrt1' ! Enough has probably now been said to convince everybody at all
motma\^ the new Wellington statue ought
hero in Addison's Campaign, to be sure, rode on the whirlwind and | to be a "Vv Ellington Boot,
directed the storm in a great wig; but an illustration representing ■
him as he appeared on that occasion, would be funny.
The face of a statue in the modern costume, constitutes-when 0UI1 IMPOBTANT ANNOUNCEMENT, LAST WEEK,
unusually well executed—the onlv difference between a work of art -yt- 1 j 1 1 1 u • ,r + i ,i ■ , u + j
and a dummy. In the German slang of the day such an image might ! ^ E had ll0pcd to be 111 a condltlon to make> tlus week> the astoujld-
indeed be called an art-dummy. The only reason why in criticism"-1 m» revelation to which we referred in our last. We are. But we
such a statue, a cobbler ought to confine himself to the chaussure is, '> have reason to think, from communications which have reached us, that
t.iat a cobbler is not a tailor. But in the case of the very best statue ■ the world is not in a condition to receive the intelligence. A few days
o a VY Ellington that could be made, a cobbler would be a competent I m0re of nrpnaration seem imuerativelv demanded We solemnly
judge- tor that statue would be a boot. Such was the monument! T P,eParatlon seem impe atnelj aemanaea. we solemnly
which the contemporaries of our great Chief erected to him in leather i pledge ourselves' however, that nothing shall defer the announcement,
The cobbler would perhaps hold that, for the proposed memorial there : *n a^ ^s fulness, beyond our next number. In the mean time we
is still nothing like leather—but there he would be a prejudiced man. earnestly implore all, all, without distinction of asc or sex, to
Let us endorse the taste and judgment of our predecessors, and per- BEWABE OF THE----:
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
f August 1, 1857.
A MIDSUMMER MOBNING'S DREAM.
A More than commonly interesting " Marriage in High
Life" was reported the other day by our fashionable con-
temporary. This affair came off, not at All Swells', but at
St. Paul's Church, Knightsbridge. The reporter mentions
a remarkable feature of the entertainment—for such it
really appears to have been—in stating that
" Mendelssohn's ' Wedding March' was played upon the orpran as
the processiou moved up to the altar, and until the bride and bride-
groom had taken their places in front of the communion table."
In addition we are informed that—
" The service (performed with choral music) was unusually im-
pressive."
The bride and bridegroom on this occasion will perhaps
be surmised by some who know no better, to have been his
Grace, Theseus, Duke of Athens, and Her Majesty,
Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. The altar up to which
they moved to Mendelssohn's " Wedding March," may
be imagined to have been the Altar of Hymen; whose
torch may, for the nonce, have been placed upon it in lieu
of tapers. The choral music with which the service was
performed, and which was " unusually impressive," may be
supposed to have been borrowed from the same work as
the " March," and in being unusually impressive may be
conceived to have been unusually jolly.
Immediately on the conclusion of the ceremony, the
happy pair may be conjectured to have adjourned to the
mansion of the noble bridegroom, where, after partaking
of the customary collation, they witnessed a theatrical
entertainment, consisting of a mock tragedy, composed
by a humble dramatic author, and performed, in honour of
the occasion, by a company of amateurs of the working
classes.
A Shave.
Mr. Muntz leaves Parliament from ill health. We
hope he is not seriously ill or too unwell to enjoy the
wittiest thing that has ever been said in our time; but
which, if his indisposition is grave, we withdraw, with
ouOi, SUIIMEK DRESS. regret—namely, that he wants change of hair.
"Why, Fufp, my dear fellow, whatever have tou got ox?"
" Why, DfNT you see I—a Portable Kefrigerator: deuced comfortable this How to Get a Lady to show her Foot. — Praise
hot weather, I can tell you!" the foot of some one else!
AN ART-WELLINGTON.
The Duke passant, the Duke rampant, the Duke regardant, the
Duke _ cov.chaut, the Duke in almost all manner of attitudes, may
petuate their idea in marble. We can make a decent boot, and may
perhaps, make a tolerable statue of one.
The highest honour that we pay to our most illustrious personages
is that of applying their names to boots—we denominate our highlows
be said to have been designed by the competitors for the new Bluchers Alberts, Cobtjkgs—andour boot of boots is the Wel
Wellington Statue. A few more conceptions of the great Duke I kington. The most noble Order of the Boot is conferred on none
might be modelled-the Duke eating; the Duke drinking; the Duke i Princes a»d Warriors; there is the ^ewtonian theory and the
washing his handsthe Duke shaving himself; the Duke mending a
pen; the Duke cutting a cedar pencil, or, at an early period, scraping
a slate one: the young Duke, then Master Wellesley, doing a
Davy Lamp ; but there are no Newtons at Ms. Qd. or Davys at 12 s.
Indeed, the honour of the boot is very properly decreed only to
those who have won their spurs, and the recollection of this circum-
Said the bravest of young recruits,
I go where the cannons rattle,
My name with the names of boots
Shall shine for my deeds in battle !
sum. These would be simple designs; but if a more complex compo-1 stance may animate many a youthful private and predestined Field
sition were desired, the Duke might be represented as receiving the Marshal, whose feelings may be faintly expressed in the following
congratulations of Business—the figure ol Business being that of a lines:—
grocer m an apron, and Business having a pen behind his ear.
Awakened, at last, to the fact that we cannot make a statue our-
selves, we have invited foreign competition for the design of the
VV ellmgton Monument, but with indifferent results. The fact is, that
the statue ot a modern hero is a statue of clothes which are comical ™ > i t_ i_i v. -j i • u '"i. ti
and mal-p thp fio-m-P ^m-^Qtorl In- ti,™ „ ~Z, ' "5 V 1 LU11^Lrt1' ! Enough has probably now been said to convince everybody at all
motma\^ the new Wellington statue ought
hero in Addison's Campaign, to be sure, rode on the whirlwind and | to be a "Vv Ellington Boot,
directed the storm in a great wig; but an illustration representing ■
him as he appeared on that occasion, would be funny.
The face of a statue in the modern costume, constitutes-when 0UI1 IMPOBTANT ANNOUNCEMENT, LAST WEEK,
unusually well executed—the onlv difference between a work of art -yt- 1 j 1 1 1 u • ,r + i ,i ■ , u + j
and a dummy. In the German slang of the day such an image might ! ^ E had ll0pcd to be 111 a condltlon to make> tlus week> the astoujld-
indeed be called an art-dummy. The only reason why in criticism"-1 m» revelation to which we referred in our last. We are. But we
such a statue, a cobbler ought to confine himself to the chaussure is, '> have reason to think, from communications which have reached us, that
t.iat a cobbler is not a tailor. But in the case of the very best statue ■ the world is not in a condition to receive the intelligence. A few days
o a VY Ellington that could be made, a cobbler would be a competent I m0re of nrpnaration seem imuerativelv demanded We solemnly
judge- tor that statue would be a boot. Such was the monument! T P,eParatlon seem impe atnelj aemanaea. we solemnly
which the contemporaries of our great Chief erected to him in leather i pledge ourselves' however, that nothing shall defer the announcement,
The cobbler would perhaps hold that, for the proposed memorial there : *n a^ ^s fulness, beyond our next number. In the mean time we
is still nothing like leather—but there he would be a prejudiced man. earnestly implore all, all, without distinction of asc or sex, to
Let us endorse the taste and judgment of our predecessors, and per- BEWABE OF THE----: