DOI Heft:
December 22, 1860
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16866#0258
250
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[December 22, 1860,
LA MODE.
Rude, Boy. “Oh, if 'ere ain’t a Gal been and put on a Dustman’s ’At!
MUSKETS FOR THE MILLION.
Arm, brave Italians, arm now while you can.
No tyrant your freedom could stifle,
If all your young fellows were armed, every man.
And each a dead shot with the Rifle.
Soon from fair Venice you then might expel
The Austrian whippers of women,
You being sucli marksmen as Switzerland’s Tell,
But weapons superior to him in.
Then you the Erench might invite to go home :
Perhaps they would go ere invited.
Unity’s banner would float, over Rome,
And Italy’s wrongs would be righted.
POPULAR AMUSEMENTS.
The King of Naples is still continuing the game of
Prisoners' Base that he has been playing now for some
considerable time. He has had a good long innings, but
we do not see how iie can avoid being eventually turned
out. He would not have kept in so long as he has done,
if he had not had the French on his side. However,
we must in rairness compliment +,|e King on his admirable
running. Very few Bourbons, quick as they are in that
respect, could have done it better. The game of Eer-
dinand v. United Italy promises to be one of the most
interesting in the Italian Bell's Life of popular sports and
amusements. The only regret, is that Garibaldi, who,
at one time, had the whole field to himself, should have
retired at so early a period from the game.
An Unexpected Return.
We have the greatest pleasure in congratulating
Mr. Smith O’Brien upon his sudden return to reason.
The return is all the more welcome, as it was totally
unexpected by any one of his friends, the Honourable
Member not having given to a single soul the slightest
intimation of his happy recovery. Every one was taken
by surprise, and no one more so than ourselves.
: Sir,
IN THE NAME OF HIGH-ART !
To Mr. Punch.
“ My hair stood on end eight days ago (and has ever since
■obstinately refused to lie down) as I read in last, week’s Spectator, in
a review of a New History of Edward the First, the following
passage, for which I can only find the epithet ‘ Outrageous : ’—
“ In a credulous age fictions will grow up; but in an incredulous age why should
they be repeated? We would ruthlessly extirpate all ‘ graceful fancies' and ‘beau-
tiful legends ’ from history, making them over to the poets, to whom they properly
belong. When they are admitted as facts into the historian’s page, they sometimes
falsify and pervert reality to a degree that justifies any amount of indignation.
Among these picturesque lies, we believe, are now included the story of Rosamond aud
her Bower ; the story of Eleanor’s heroism in drawing the poison from Edward’s
wound ; the tale of Queen Philippa and the Citizens of Calais ; the murder of the
Bards; the tale of Canute, &c. &c.”
“ Really, Mr. Punch, it is difficult to retain one’s patience at such
(profanity. Is the senseless miscreant who penned the above, blind to
the fact, that if there be incidents in history which come home to
men’s businesses and bosoms, they are precisely those which he has
the impudence here to describe as ‘picturesque lies?’ Is he not
aware that they are exactly the subjects invariably selected by our
historical painters (from the Royal Academicians upwards) for their
illustrations of the History of England ? Does he not know, or must
I tell him, that at the great competition of the cartoons in West-
minster Hall, there were no less than four Eleanors, three Philippas
and six Canutes sent in F Need I inform him, that there is no Exhi-
bition of the Royal Academy but has treatments of these soul-inspiring
subjects sent in by the score—though the majority of them are, of
course, rejected by the venal stupidity of the council ? Will he allow
me to state that I have myself in my own studio (102, Newman Street,
first-floor bell) at this moment, designs for these very five incidents—
with Caractacus, Alfred founding Trial by Jury, ditto Burning
Cake, and Discovery of the body of Harold)—as portions of my series
of colossal subjects from the History of England, intended for the
decoration of Westminster Hall, so soon as the direction of the Fine
Arts of this country is transferred from the hands of an irresponsible
German-ridden
clique,
and a toad-eating,
tuft-hunting Academy, to
men capable of discovering and rewarding real genius ? And am I to
be told that facts on which my youthfuHmagination has feasted—I
designed a Philippa and Citizens of Calais in their shirts, at thirteen,
in chalk on the garden palings (which excited the astonishment of all
who saw it till erased by a brutal and soulless incoming tenant-
occurrences which have employed the research of a Goldsmith, the
picturesqueness of a Pinnock, and the glowing periods of a Hume
and Smollett—actions which have inspired the pencils of our noblest
painters from the gigantic but ill-requited Foggo, down to the writer
of this letter, whose name, though not yet inscribed in the scroll of
fame, cannot, I feel, long be excluded from its place there, by any
efforts of fashionable namby-painbyism, or titled and salaried imbeci-
lity—am I to he told that these subjects are ‘picturesque lies?’
“On what, I ask, is the Historic Art of this country to feed, if these
favourite themes of its glowing aspirations are to be rudely snatched
from its lips by the daring pen of hebdomadal insolence, or crushed
under the audacious hoof of Germanising rationalistic criticism?
“ I trust, Mr. Punch, that in signalising such un-English irreverence
for all that truly historic and artistic minds hold most dear, I am
ensuring a universal and overpowering protest from the national heart,
to which no louder or more emphatic utterance can be given than by
instantly subscribing for the production — by line engraving in the
best manner at £10 10s. artist proofs before letters; £5 5s. ordinary
proofs; and £3 3s. selected impressions of each subject—of my colossal
series of designs from English History, above adverted to, and which
are always on view at my studio at the address already given, but
which I subjoin for the convenience of your numerous readers.
“I have the honour to remain, your faithful servant,
“Michael Angelo Maulstick, S.B.A.”
102, Newman Street (First-floor bell).
Our Court Circular.
We have not the slightest regret in stating that the. King of
Naples is still confined to his castle in which he has been laid up now
for some time. He is suffering from a violent blow dealt to him by one
Garibaldi on bis crown. His recovery is extremely uncertain—
almost as uncertain, we should say, as the recovery of his throne.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[December 22, 1860,
LA MODE.
Rude, Boy. “Oh, if 'ere ain’t a Gal been and put on a Dustman’s ’At!
MUSKETS FOR THE MILLION.
Arm, brave Italians, arm now while you can.
No tyrant your freedom could stifle,
If all your young fellows were armed, every man.
And each a dead shot with the Rifle.
Soon from fair Venice you then might expel
The Austrian whippers of women,
You being sucli marksmen as Switzerland’s Tell,
But weapons superior to him in.
Then you the Erench might invite to go home :
Perhaps they would go ere invited.
Unity’s banner would float, over Rome,
And Italy’s wrongs would be righted.
POPULAR AMUSEMENTS.
The King of Naples is still continuing the game of
Prisoners' Base that he has been playing now for some
considerable time. He has had a good long innings, but
we do not see how iie can avoid being eventually turned
out. He would not have kept in so long as he has done,
if he had not had the French on his side. However,
we must in rairness compliment +,|e King on his admirable
running. Very few Bourbons, quick as they are in that
respect, could have done it better. The game of Eer-
dinand v. United Italy promises to be one of the most
interesting in the Italian Bell's Life of popular sports and
amusements. The only regret, is that Garibaldi, who,
at one time, had the whole field to himself, should have
retired at so early a period from the game.
An Unexpected Return.
We have the greatest pleasure in congratulating
Mr. Smith O’Brien upon his sudden return to reason.
The return is all the more welcome, as it was totally
unexpected by any one of his friends, the Honourable
Member not having given to a single soul the slightest
intimation of his happy recovery. Every one was taken
by surprise, and no one more so than ourselves.
: Sir,
IN THE NAME OF HIGH-ART !
To Mr. Punch.
“ My hair stood on end eight days ago (and has ever since
■obstinately refused to lie down) as I read in last, week’s Spectator, in
a review of a New History of Edward the First, the following
passage, for which I can only find the epithet ‘ Outrageous : ’—
“ In a credulous age fictions will grow up; but in an incredulous age why should
they be repeated? We would ruthlessly extirpate all ‘ graceful fancies' and ‘beau-
tiful legends ’ from history, making them over to the poets, to whom they properly
belong. When they are admitted as facts into the historian’s page, they sometimes
falsify and pervert reality to a degree that justifies any amount of indignation.
Among these picturesque lies, we believe, are now included the story of Rosamond aud
her Bower ; the story of Eleanor’s heroism in drawing the poison from Edward’s
wound ; the tale of Queen Philippa and the Citizens of Calais ; the murder of the
Bards; the tale of Canute, &c. &c.”
“ Really, Mr. Punch, it is difficult to retain one’s patience at such
(profanity. Is the senseless miscreant who penned the above, blind to
the fact, that if there be incidents in history which come home to
men’s businesses and bosoms, they are precisely those which he has
the impudence here to describe as ‘picturesque lies?’ Is he not
aware that they are exactly the subjects invariably selected by our
historical painters (from the Royal Academicians upwards) for their
illustrations of the History of England ? Does he not know, or must
I tell him, that at the great competition of the cartoons in West-
minster Hall, there were no less than four Eleanors, three Philippas
and six Canutes sent in F Need I inform him, that there is no Exhi-
bition of the Royal Academy but has treatments of these soul-inspiring
subjects sent in by the score—though the majority of them are, of
course, rejected by the venal stupidity of the council ? Will he allow
me to state that I have myself in my own studio (102, Newman Street,
first-floor bell) at this moment, designs for these very five incidents—
with Caractacus, Alfred founding Trial by Jury, ditto Burning
Cake, and Discovery of the body of Harold)—as portions of my series
of colossal subjects from the History of England, intended for the
decoration of Westminster Hall, so soon as the direction of the Fine
Arts of this country is transferred from the hands of an irresponsible
German-ridden
clique,
and a toad-eating,
tuft-hunting Academy, to
men capable of discovering and rewarding real genius ? And am I to
be told that facts on which my youthfuHmagination has feasted—I
designed a Philippa and Citizens of Calais in their shirts, at thirteen,
in chalk on the garden palings (which excited the astonishment of all
who saw it till erased by a brutal and soulless incoming tenant-
occurrences which have employed the research of a Goldsmith, the
picturesqueness of a Pinnock, and the glowing periods of a Hume
and Smollett—actions which have inspired the pencils of our noblest
painters from the gigantic but ill-requited Foggo, down to the writer
of this letter, whose name, though not yet inscribed in the scroll of
fame, cannot, I feel, long be excluded from its place there, by any
efforts of fashionable namby-painbyism, or titled and salaried imbeci-
lity—am I to he told that these subjects are ‘picturesque lies?’
“On what, I ask, is the Historic Art of this country to feed, if these
favourite themes of its glowing aspirations are to be rudely snatched
from its lips by the daring pen of hebdomadal insolence, or crushed
under the audacious hoof of Germanising rationalistic criticism?
“ I trust, Mr. Punch, that in signalising such un-English irreverence
for all that truly historic and artistic minds hold most dear, I am
ensuring a universal and overpowering protest from the national heart,
to which no louder or more emphatic utterance can be given than by
instantly subscribing for the production — by line engraving in the
best manner at £10 10s. artist proofs before letters; £5 5s. ordinary
proofs; and £3 3s. selected impressions of each subject—of my colossal
series of designs from English History, above adverted to, and which
are always on view at my studio at the address already given, but
which I subjoin for the convenience of your numerous readers.
“I have the honour to remain, your faithful servant,
“Michael Angelo Maulstick, S.B.A.”
102, Newman Street (First-floor bell).
Our Court Circular.
We have not the slightest regret in stating that the. King of
Naples is still confined to his castle in which he has been laid up now
for some time. He is suffering from a violent blow dealt to him by one
Garibaldi on bis crown. His recovery is extremely uncertain—
almost as uncertain, we should say, as the recovery of his throne.