DOI Heft:
July 9, 1859
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16864#0023
July 9, 1859.]
11
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
VOLUNTEERS AND VETERANS.
To the Editor of Punch.
R, I have been preciously dis-
gusted with the way in which the
Papers have been writing about
Rifle Clubs, and volunteering their
suggestions about arming Volun-
teers. What the (blank) can penny-
a-liners know of rifle-practice,
excepting when they treat, them-
selves to ‘six shots for a tizzy’
in their Derby dissipations, or
when they waste their time in
trying to knock over the wood
hares which Cockneys shoot at,
Cremorne P How the (dash), Sir.
can a fellow with his nose chained
to the desk pretend to have an
insight into military matters : and
what the (dash dash) can a snob
who gets his bread and cheese by
scribbling know about the dressing
or the drilling of a sharpshooter,
or the manoeuvring or management
of a corps of Volunteers ? Let the
cobbler stick to his wax and the
shopman to his shop; and let the
penny-a-liner people, who write
what I believe are called the
leading articles, give up trying to
lead the public to imagine that the
Press knows more than the authorities, and that the rules which have
been issued for the guidance of the Rifle Clubs would have been
drawn with more good sense, and with less bad English, had they been
framed (say) in Fleet Street instead of at the Horse Guards._
“ In my censure of the conduct of the papers at this crisis, 1 must,
however, make exception of one of your contemporaries, which seems
to me to view the matter in a highly proper light, and to pay due
deference to the (of course) superior wisdom of us military writers.
Knowing the disrespectful way in which it spoke of the authorities,
when the Crimean (so called) ‘ blunders ’ were (as it was said) con-
firmed by the Government Commissioners,’ it may surprise you to
hear that the journal which I think deserves some praise is the Examiner.
Upon the much debated subject of military dress, this paper makes
the following most sensible remarks :—
“ With respect to dress, we trust that the good sense of the people will prevent
it from being influenced by the insidious counsel of military reformers, who would
set at nought the hallowed experience of ages, and the rules and regulations of the
Horse Guards. A blacksmith and a tailor, say these doctrinaires, dress in the
manner best suited to their respective trades, and why should not a soldier do so?
Simply, let us tell these wiseacres, because blacksmiths and tailors require the free
use of their limbs, whether to wieid the hammer or to ply the needle ; whereas the
soldier need only move by word of command, and has to preserve an outward
appearance which cannot be sacrificed with impunity. A soldier with the free use
of his arms and legs would become a mutineer in twenty-four hours, and it is from
a well-founded conviction of the necessity of muscular restraint, as a preservative
of discipline, that our military authorities insist upon the present style of dress.
We trust therefore that the Volunteers will steer clear of all new-fangled ideas on
this subject, and conform to the existing regulations.”
“ The dress which the Examiner proceeds to recommend is fashioned
on the best of military models, and if it be not serviceable, at any rate
is soldierlike:—
“ A close fitting tunic, with plenty of lace and buttons ; a leather stock (nothing
gives so military an appearance as a stiff neck !) ; a top-heavy knapsack, difficult to
put on, and impossible to shake off; cross-belts requiring daily pipe-claying;
trousers tight round the seat, and baggy round the ancles, so as to catch the
brambles and draggle in the mud ; boots of the Weedon type : the serviceable and
becoming infantry shako, with the regulation great coat to sop the rain up in wet
weather, form a dress in which British soldiers have fought and conquered, and
which no brave Volunteer should be afraid to wear.”
“ Afraid ! ay, that’s just it, Sir ! One of the chief beauties of the
British soldier’s dress is that it serves to test the courage of the wearer.
A man must needs be gifted with no ordinary pluck, to face not merely
death, but a life of killing torture. Cramped and fettered as he is by
his hard, stiff stock and cross-belts, and weighed down by his shako
and ‘ top-heavy ’ knapsack, his pow'ers of endurance are put early to
the proof, and one may tell within a week or so what sort of stuff he’s
made of. Moreover, knowing what a deadly foe consumption is to
face, a man who dare stand water, in a regulation sop-coat, may be
trusted to stand fire as an agreeable alternative. I insist then that
the dress most fit for Volunteers is one that should be fashioned on
the model which the Horse Guards has, in its all-excelling wisdom,
invented for the ‘ regulars.’ Of course we military men can put no
faith in Volunteers until they give us ocularly good proof of their
valour; and for this reason alone I should advise "them to adopt such
a uniform as ours, though its usefulness and elegance are quite enough
to recommend it. With regard to the colour to be chosen for their
clothing, your clear-headed contemporary most sensibly says this
“ Among those who glory in outraging the best feelings of our nature, there are
some who have even objected to the colour which immemorial usage has established
for the dress of riflemen. They contend that it results from repeated experiments
that, of all colours that could be selected, dark green is the one least suited to skir-
mishers, as being at a certain distance more conspicuous than even red; while
silver or iron grey so completely blends with the colour of surrounding objects at a
few hundred yards’ distance as to be almost indistinguishable, and offer no mark to
the enemy. We fully admit all this, but we have yet to learn that the British
Volunteer wishes to conceal himself from his foe. So un-English an idea is worthy
of men who advocate vote by Ballot! The Horse Guards have established dark
green as the proper dress to be worn by Rifle Corps, and unless disposed to question
the military judgment of the Duke of Wellington and the Prince Consort, our
Volunteers will do well to adopt a colour which history has immortalised as the
Horse Guards’ Green.”
“ Sir, these are brave and manly sentiments, and will find an echo
in every British breast! I congratulate the writer, penny-a-liner though
lie be, upon taking so conservative and clear-sighted a view of a matter
which civilians are mostly in the dark about. What, Sir! Are our
skirmishers to be afraid to show themselves? Are we Englishmen to
take a mean advantage of invaders, by sneaking behind hedgerows in
invisible grey clothing, and thence "to shoot them down like dogs
without offering them a chance of their returning us the compliment ?
Forbid it, chivalry and courage ! forbid it, all the laws of fair and
gentlemanly warfare! No, no. Come what danger may, by Jove!
we must stick to our colours. Newspapers may call us foolhardy if
they will, but vulgar taunts will not provoke us to forget what is
‘ immortalised.’ The man who shrinks from wearing green wears,
clearly, the white feather, and is unworthy of the name of a British
Rifleman!
“ I remain, Sir, yours indignantly,
“A Veteran, by Jove! Sir! and not a Volunteer.”
“ Pipeclay Club, Saturday.”
“ P.S. My friend Sttarpskulle tells me that he thinks I am mis-
taken, and that the (blanked) article I’ve quoted is meant to be
ironical. But this need not prevent your printing my opinions ; only
it shows what (blankblanked) scoundrels all you literary men are,
w'hen you write what you don’t mean, and cheat one into fancying that
you really do mean it.”
A TETE A TETE WITH TA1T.
“ Dat veniam corvis, vexat censura columbas.”
The All Saints’ crows his Lordship pets,
And, hoping against hope, forgets
The many birds that thence have come,
Fled to the rookery of Rome :
Forgets his summary eviction
Of priests from Pimlico; no fiction.
But sternly real: witness Poole,
Who sloped before his sharp ferule.
Anent which cases, Punch, Confessor,
To the British Public is addresser:—
“ Can it be right away to fritter,
Consistency for gold and glitter ?
Can it be right to consecrate
The new church in Street Margaret,
Which looks more Puseyite by far
Than English churches elsewhere are ?
Must then a Westerton arise,
To clear the case for his Lordship’s eyes:
Or Bishop Punch let fall the weight
Of his oak truncheon on Tait’s tele c ”
THE PRICES OF SEATS.
A Seat in the Park costs One Penny.
A Seat for Marylebone costs £6,000.
Really, wc would sooner have a seat for the former than the latter.
Once seated, you can sit without fear of any one turning you out;
and instead of a discordant braying Vestry continually bellowing in
your ears, you have some charming music to listen to. You have no
parish Pitblicolas to seduce you with their eloquence, it is true; but
then, to compensate for that loss, you have some of the most beautiful
■women in the world to look at, until you regret that your bosom does
not contain a thousand hearts, that you might give one to each.
In addition to the above advantages, for which, in the language of
the late lamented Mr. Richardson, “there is no extra charge,” you
have the satisfaction of knowing that you have in your pocket a com-
forting little balance of £5,999 19.?. 1 \d. We would see the Marylebone
publicans giving body to their porter by committing suicide in their
own vats, and the Marylebone bill-posters stuck against their own
walls first, sooner than they should have a single penny of it.
11
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
VOLUNTEERS AND VETERANS.
To the Editor of Punch.
R, I have been preciously dis-
gusted with the way in which the
Papers have been writing about
Rifle Clubs, and volunteering their
suggestions about arming Volun-
teers. What the (blank) can penny-
a-liners know of rifle-practice,
excepting when they treat, them-
selves to ‘six shots for a tizzy’
in their Derby dissipations, or
when they waste their time in
trying to knock over the wood
hares which Cockneys shoot at,
Cremorne P How the (dash), Sir.
can a fellow with his nose chained
to the desk pretend to have an
insight into military matters : and
what the (dash dash) can a snob
who gets his bread and cheese by
scribbling know about the dressing
or the drilling of a sharpshooter,
or the manoeuvring or management
of a corps of Volunteers ? Let the
cobbler stick to his wax and the
shopman to his shop; and let the
penny-a-liner people, who write
what I believe are called the
leading articles, give up trying to
lead the public to imagine that the
Press knows more than the authorities, and that the rules which have
been issued for the guidance of the Rifle Clubs would have been
drawn with more good sense, and with less bad English, had they been
framed (say) in Fleet Street instead of at the Horse Guards._
“ In my censure of the conduct of the papers at this crisis, 1 must,
however, make exception of one of your contemporaries, which seems
to me to view the matter in a highly proper light, and to pay due
deference to the (of course) superior wisdom of us military writers.
Knowing the disrespectful way in which it spoke of the authorities,
when the Crimean (so called) ‘ blunders ’ were (as it was said) con-
firmed by the Government Commissioners,’ it may surprise you to
hear that the journal which I think deserves some praise is the Examiner.
Upon the much debated subject of military dress, this paper makes
the following most sensible remarks :—
“ With respect to dress, we trust that the good sense of the people will prevent
it from being influenced by the insidious counsel of military reformers, who would
set at nought the hallowed experience of ages, and the rules and regulations of the
Horse Guards. A blacksmith and a tailor, say these doctrinaires, dress in the
manner best suited to their respective trades, and why should not a soldier do so?
Simply, let us tell these wiseacres, because blacksmiths and tailors require the free
use of their limbs, whether to wieid the hammer or to ply the needle ; whereas the
soldier need only move by word of command, and has to preserve an outward
appearance which cannot be sacrificed with impunity. A soldier with the free use
of his arms and legs would become a mutineer in twenty-four hours, and it is from
a well-founded conviction of the necessity of muscular restraint, as a preservative
of discipline, that our military authorities insist upon the present style of dress.
We trust therefore that the Volunteers will steer clear of all new-fangled ideas on
this subject, and conform to the existing regulations.”
“ The dress which the Examiner proceeds to recommend is fashioned
on the best of military models, and if it be not serviceable, at any rate
is soldierlike:—
“ A close fitting tunic, with plenty of lace and buttons ; a leather stock (nothing
gives so military an appearance as a stiff neck !) ; a top-heavy knapsack, difficult to
put on, and impossible to shake off; cross-belts requiring daily pipe-claying;
trousers tight round the seat, and baggy round the ancles, so as to catch the
brambles and draggle in the mud ; boots of the Weedon type : the serviceable and
becoming infantry shako, with the regulation great coat to sop the rain up in wet
weather, form a dress in which British soldiers have fought and conquered, and
which no brave Volunteer should be afraid to wear.”
“ Afraid ! ay, that’s just it, Sir ! One of the chief beauties of the
British soldier’s dress is that it serves to test the courage of the wearer.
A man must needs be gifted with no ordinary pluck, to face not merely
death, but a life of killing torture. Cramped and fettered as he is by
his hard, stiff stock and cross-belts, and weighed down by his shako
and ‘ top-heavy ’ knapsack, his pow'ers of endurance are put early to
the proof, and one may tell within a week or so what sort of stuff he’s
made of. Moreover, knowing what a deadly foe consumption is to
face, a man who dare stand water, in a regulation sop-coat, may be
trusted to stand fire as an agreeable alternative. I insist then that
the dress most fit for Volunteers is one that should be fashioned on
the model which the Horse Guards has, in its all-excelling wisdom,
invented for the ‘ regulars.’ Of course we military men can put no
faith in Volunteers until they give us ocularly good proof of their
valour; and for this reason alone I should advise "them to adopt such
a uniform as ours, though its usefulness and elegance are quite enough
to recommend it. With regard to the colour to be chosen for their
clothing, your clear-headed contemporary most sensibly says this
“ Among those who glory in outraging the best feelings of our nature, there are
some who have even objected to the colour which immemorial usage has established
for the dress of riflemen. They contend that it results from repeated experiments
that, of all colours that could be selected, dark green is the one least suited to skir-
mishers, as being at a certain distance more conspicuous than even red; while
silver or iron grey so completely blends with the colour of surrounding objects at a
few hundred yards’ distance as to be almost indistinguishable, and offer no mark to
the enemy. We fully admit all this, but we have yet to learn that the British
Volunteer wishes to conceal himself from his foe. So un-English an idea is worthy
of men who advocate vote by Ballot! The Horse Guards have established dark
green as the proper dress to be worn by Rifle Corps, and unless disposed to question
the military judgment of the Duke of Wellington and the Prince Consort, our
Volunteers will do well to adopt a colour which history has immortalised as the
Horse Guards’ Green.”
“ Sir, these are brave and manly sentiments, and will find an echo
in every British breast! I congratulate the writer, penny-a-liner though
lie be, upon taking so conservative and clear-sighted a view of a matter
which civilians are mostly in the dark about. What, Sir! Are our
skirmishers to be afraid to show themselves? Are we Englishmen to
take a mean advantage of invaders, by sneaking behind hedgerows in
invisible grey clothing, and thence "to shoot them down like dogs
without offering them a chance of their returning us the compliment ?
Forbid it, chivalry and courage ! forbid it, all the laws of fair and
gentlemanly warfare! No, no. Come what danger may, by Jove!
we must stick to our colours. Newspapers may call us foolhardy if
they will, but vulgar taunts will not provoke us to forget what is
‘ immortalised.’ The man who shrinks from wearing green wears,
clearly, the white feather, and is unworthy of the name of a British
Rifleman!
“ I remain, Sir, yours indignantly,
“A Veteran, by Jove! Sir! and not a Volunteer.”
“ Pipeclay Club, Saturday.”
“ P.S. My friend Sttarpskulle tells me that he thinks I am mis-
taken, and that the (blanked) article I’ve quoted is meant to be
ironical. But this need not prevent your printing my opinions ; only
it shows what (blankblanked) scoundrels all you literary men are,
w'hen you write what you don’t mean, and cheat one into fancying that
you really do mean it.”
A TETE A TETE WITH TA1T.
“ Dat veniam corvis, vexat censura columbas.”
The All Saints’ crows his Lordship pets,
And, hoping against hope, forgets
The many birds that thence have come,
Fled to the rookery of Rome :
Forgets his summary eviction
Of priests from Pimlico; no fiction.
But sternly real: witness Poole,
Who sloped before his sharp ferule.
Anent which cases, Punch, Confessor,
To the British Public is addresser:—
“ Can it be right away to fritter,
Consistency for gold and glitter ?
Can it be right to consecrate
The new church in Street Margaret,
Which looks more Puseyite by far
Than English churches elsewhere are ?
Must then a Westerton arise,
To clear the case for his Lordship’s eyes:
Or Bishop Punch let fall the weight
Of his oak truncheon on Tait’s tele c ”
THE PRICES OF SEATS.
A Seat in the Park costs One Penny.
A Seat for Marylebone costs £6,000.
Really, wc would sooner have a seat for the former than the latter.
Once seated, you can sit without fear of any one turning you out;
and instead of a discordant braying Vestry continually bellowing in
your ears, you have some charming music to listen to. You have no
parish Pitblicolas to seduce you with their eloquence, it is true; but
then, to compensate for that loss, you have some of the most beautiful
■women in the world to look at, until you regret that your bosom does
not contain a thousand hearts, that you might give one to each.
In addition to the above advantages, for which, in the language of
the late lamented Mr. Richardson, “there is no extra charge,” you
have the satisfaction of knowing that you have in your pocket a com-
forting little balance of £5,999 19.?. 1 \d. We would see the Marylebone
publicans giving body to their porter by committing suicide in their
own vats, and the Marylebone bill-posters stuck against their own
walls first, sooner than they should have a single penny of it.