DOI Heft:
October 14, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17753#0176
October 14, 1882.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
169
HISTORY RE-VIEWED.
By Whyte Washcher.
No. 1.—Henry the Eighth, the Model Husband.
Gentle and genial, considerate and sociable, with a strong love of
romance, such was Henry the Eighth. From his earliest years he
was particularly sweet-tempered. He had but one blemish. He was
incurably shy in the presence of ladies, and consequently invariably
shunned their society. But although he avoided the sex, he was
devoted to the individual—he loved with all the fervour of a young and
pure heart—Catherine of Aragon. He determined to address her, and
seeking the assistance of his elder brother, Arthur, wrote her a love
letter so full of tender compliments, so crammed with passionate
The Loyal Caudles.—“ Henry Tudor, tu dors ! ”
expressions of affection, that Catherine was wooed and won
simultaneously. She immediately accepted the writer of the note,
but her reply was addressed to Arthur ! By some terrible oversight
the elder brother had signed for the younger! But, as Henry
pointed out to his senior, there was but one thing to be done. “ I
must sacrifice myself,” said the unfortunate Prince with tears in his
large blue eyes ; “ she must not suffer. Artie, she is yours! May
you be happy—very happy! All for her! All for her!” and
leaving Hampton Court in a very frenzy of woe, he travelled to
Windsor.
Prince Arthur and Catherine of Aragon were married, but
scarcely had the lady become a bride, before she found herself a
widow. On his death-bed her husband told her the story of the
fatal mistake. “ Hal is a dear good fellow,” said Prince Arthur,
in conclusion. “ Mind, Kate, you have promised to marry him for
my sake. Let me join your palms together. So! I die in peace ! ”
And holding the hands of his brother and his wife in the same grasp,
he smiled a sweet smile, and calmly yielded up his spirit.
Shortly after this, Henry (who had now become a monarch) and
Catherine were married with the utmost magnificence. During
the honeymoon the happy pair merited their conventional _ title,
but as time grew on, Catherine showed her character in its
true colours. She was capricious, suspicious, and sulky; but,
above all, she was an inveterate nagger. During the day her hus-
band was able to avoid her, cares of State claiming his exclusive
attention, but when he retired to rest he had to listen to his wife’s
curtain lectures. For hours and hours would Catherine rate her
liege lord about his faults of omission and commission. Now it
was that he had been lax in attending to his religious observances.
Henry promised to renew his zeal, and the very next day wrote a
book which so pleased the. Pope that his Holiness immediately
conferred upon him and his issue the title of “ Defender of the
Faith.” Then it was that the monks were too wealthy. Catherine
was sure “ the friars were growing too fat! ” Again, to please his
wife, Henry the very next morning abolished all the monasteries—
a proceeding which (at the time) caused some ill-feeling. In fact,
there was nothing that the fond husband would not do, and did not
do, to please and conciliate his querulous and irritable helpmate.
At last she insisted upon a separation, and Henry tearfully con-
sented to let her go. And from this point the unhappy monarch
was induced to become a party to a series of frauds which have |
handed down his name to posterity attached to a reputation for
cruelty and fickleness utterly foreign to his true nature. According
to history, Henry was all that was bad ; as a matter of fact, he was |
everything that was good.
Catherine, after leaving Henry, with the assistance of Cardinal
Wolsey (known amongst his intimates as “ the meek Ecclesiastic,”
on account of his extreme amiability and lack of resolution), obtained
a divorce. No sooner had she secured it, than she wished to return to
her husband. How was it to be done ? A re-marriage would have
caused endless merriment by holding up the parties to public ridi-
cule. Henry, who had been inconsolable when Catherine left him, at
last hit upon a plan by which his first love and himself could become
re-united. He suggested that Catherine should return to Court
in disguise! The Queen entered into the plot with energy, and
assuming a Frenchified manner, and a coif which completely con-
cealed her hair, appeared at Hampton Court under the title of
“ Anne Boleyn.” She was soon afterwards re-married in this name,
and all went on well. The King was for a short time supremely
happy. But at last the curtain lectures recommenced, the Queen
on this occasion troubling her husband about foreign instead of
domestic affairs. Thus it was that, to quiet her, Henry had to
rush into all sorts of expenses. It was Catherine who insisted
upon the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and she also was the real
originator of the wars between England and Spain, and France and
England.
The birth of her second daughter, Elizabeth, occurred about this
time, and there were great rejoicings in the Palace. Alas! the Queen
took offence at the good and accomplished Sir Thomas More calling
the baby “Betsy”; and, after securing the execution of that
admirable statesman (for Henry was ever a most indulgent
husband), retired into private life. The King was at his wit’s-end
j to account for her sudden disappearance, and. consulted the Privy
| Council. It was decided that a report should be spread that “ Anne
Boleyn” was dead, and, this being done, rumour immediately
added sensational details, in the shape of a story of an imprisonment
in the old Fortress of London, an execution on Tower Hill, and other
ridiculous elaborations.
But soon Catherine wanted to return. Henry acceded to her
request with joy. Again she came in disguise, now calling herself
“ .Jane Seymour.” Her son Edward was born. She grew tired of
Court life, and again disappeared, this time without leaving her
address. Once more Henry had to resort to stratagem, and to
announce the lamented decease of “ Jane Seymour.” And from
this time the Queen was continually appearing and disappearing.
She seems to have taken a delight in giving an entertainment after
the fashion of Mr. Woodin. Now she assumed the character of a
heavy Dutchwoman, and christened herself “ Anne of Cleves.” She
was married in due course, and then vanished, to reappear suddenly
as a frivolous little lady she called “ Catherine Hoyvard.” Again
she was married, and again disappeared. Once more it was necessary
to spread the report of her death, and once more rumour invested
the tale with ghastly elaborations. She had just assumed the cha-
racter of a very old woman, a sort of female Rip Van Winkle, whom
she called “ Catherine Parr,” when her husband, to whom she had
been married no less than six times, worn out by continual nagging
and limitless curtain lectures, suddenly died. His last words were,
“ Kate, dear Kate, it was very good of you to choose Catherine as
the Christian name of three of your clever and amusing impersona-
tions. You know I was always making mistakes when I had to call
you either Jane or Anne.” And with these grateful accents falling
from his poor, parched mouth, and a gentle smile playing upon
his poor, pale lips, the good-nartured and well-beloved monarch
expired.
From the above it will be seen that the master-passion of Henry
the Eighth was devotion to his wife. _ Naturally thrifty, religious,
and humane, he was more than once induced to commit deeds of
extravagance, sacrilege, and harshness at her instigation. But these
untoward acts were few and far between, and he hastened to make
reparation the moment they were committed. Thus, whenever he
was induced to behead a married nobleman, he invariably addressed
a letter of condolence and sympathy to the widow, timed to reach
her on the evening of her lord’s execution. This did he because he
was so essentially a family man himself that he could not bear to
hear of pain in the domestic circle of others. It would, perhaps,
have been better for his fame had he shown more firmness in his
dealings with his Queen; but, if he had, he might possibly have
lost his right to the title he has so justly earned, that of “ the Model
Husband.”
Leave and Licence.—A Theatrical Company, attempting to break
the dreadful and time-honoured dulness of Herne Bay by giving
dramatic performances, were fined about twelve pounds, and
solemnly cautioned by the Bench, who had previously refused a
licence to the building. The Company didn’t herne much at this
I place. At Ramsgate a licence was twice lost for the Promenade Pier,
because in the first instance the notice was posted on the wrong
church door, and in the second instance it was fixed to a window
| instead of a door. These are the things that give dignity to the
I Licensing System, and make it respected.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
169
HISTORY RE-VIEWED.
By Whyte Washcher.
No. 1.—Henry the Eighth, the Model Husband.
Gentle and genial, considerate and sociable, with a strong love of
romance, such was Henry the Eighth. From his earliest years he
was particularly sweet-tempered. He had but one blemish. He was
incurably shy in the presence of ladies, and consequently invariably
shunned their society. But although he avoided the sex, he was
devoted to the individual—he loved with all the fervour of a young and
pure heart—Catherine of Aragon. He determined to address her, and
seeking the assistance of his elder brother, Arthur, wrote her a love
letter so full of tender compliments, so crammed with passionate
The Loyal Caudles.—“ Henry Tudor, tu dors ! ”
expressions of affection, that Catherine was wooed and won
simultaneously. She immediately accepted the writer of the note,
but her reply was addressed to Arthur ! By some terrible oversight
the elder brother had signed for the younger! But, as Henry
pointed out to his senior, there was but one thing to be done. “ I
must sacrifice myself,” said the unfortunate Prince with tears in his
large blue eyes ; “ she must not suffer. Artie, she is yours! May
you be happy—very happy! All for her! All for her!” and
leaving Hampton Court in a very frenzy of woe, he travelled to
Windsor.
Prince Arthur and Catherine of Aragon were married, but
scarcely had the lady become a bride, before she found herself a
widow. On his death-bed her husband told her the story of the
fatal mistake. “ Hal is a dear good fellow,” said Prince Arthur,
in conclusion. “ Mind, Kate, you have promised to marry him for
my sake. Let me join your palms together. So! I die in peace ! ”
And holding the hands of his brother and his wife in the same grasp,
he smiled a sweet smile, and calmly yielded up his spirit.
Shortly after this, Henry (who had now become a monarch) and
Catherine were married with the utmost magnificence. During
the honeymoon the happy pair merited their conventional _ title,
but as time grew on, Catherine showed her character in its
true colours. She was capricious, suspicious, and sulky; but,
above all, she was an inveterate nagger. During the day her hus-
band was able to avoid her, cares of State claiming his exclusive
attention, but when he retired to rest he had to listen to his wife’s
curtain lectures. For hours and hours would Catherine rate her
liege lord about his faults of omission and commission. Now it
was that he had been lax in attending to his religious observances.
Henry promised to renew his zeal, and the very next day wrote a
book which so pleased the. Pope that his Holiness immediately
conferred upon him and his issue the title of “ Defender of the
Faith.” Then it was that the monks were too wealthy. Catherine
was sure “ the friars were growing too fat! ” Again, to please his
wife, Henry the very next morning abolished all the monasteries—
a proceeding which (at the time) caused some ill-feeling. In fact,
there was nothing that the fond husband would not do, and did not
do, to please and conciliate his querulous and irritable helpmate.
At last she insisted upon a separation, and Henry tearfully con-
sented to let her go. And from this point the unhappy monarch
was induced to become a party to a series of frauds which have |
handed down his name to posterity attached to a reputation for
cruelty and fickleness utterly foreign to his true nature. According
to history, Henry was all that was bad ; as a matter of fact, he was |
everything that was good.
Catherine, after leaving Henry, with the assistance of Cardinal
Wolsey (known amongst his intimates as “ the meek Ecclesiastic,”
on account of his extreme amiability and lack of resolution), obtained
a divorce. No sooner had she secured it, than she wished to return to
her husband. How was it to be done ? A re-marriage would have
caused endless merriment by holding up the parties to public ridi-
cule. Henry, who had been inconsolable when Catherine left him, at
last hit upon a plan by which his first love and himself could become
re-united. He suggested that Catherine should return to Court
in disguise! The Queen entered into the plot with energy, and
assuming a Frenchified manner, and a coif which completely con-
cealed her hair, appeared at Hampton Court under the title of
“ Anne Boleyn.” She was soon afterwards re-married in this name,
and all went on well. The King was for a short time supremely
happy. But at last the curtain lectures recommenced, the Queen
on this occasion troubling her husband about foreign instead of
domestic affairs. Thus it was that, to quiet her, Henry had to
rush into all sorts of expenses. It was Catherine who insisted
upon the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and she also was the real
originator of the wars between England and Spain, and France and
England.
The birth of her second daughter, Elizabeth, occurred about this
time, and there were great rejoicings in the Palace. Alas! the Queen
took offence at the good and accomplished Sir Thomas More calling
the baby “Betsy”; and, after securing the execution of that
admirable statesman (for Henry was ever a most indulgent
husband), retired into private life. The King was at his wit’s-end
j to account for her sudden disappearance, and. consulted the Privy
| Council. It was decided that a report should be spread that “ Anne
Boleyn” was dead, and, this being done, rumour immediately
added sensational details, in the shape of a story of an imprisonment
in the old Fortress of London, an execution on Tower Hill, and other
ridiculous elaborations.
But soon Catherine wanted to return. Henry acceded to her
request with joy. Again she came in disguise, now calling herself
“ .Jane Seymour.” Her son Edward was born. She grew tired of
Court life, and again disappeared, this time without leaving her
address. Once more Henry had to resort to stratagem, and to
announce the lamented decease of “ Jane Seymour.” And from
this time the Queen was continually appearing and disappearing.
She seems to have taken a delight in giving an entertainment after
the fashion of Mr. Woodin. Now she assumed the character of a
heavy Dutchwoman, and christened herself “ Anne of Cleves.” She
was married in due course, and then vanished, to reappear suddenly
as a frivolous little lady she called “ Catherine Hoyvard.” Again
she was married, and again disappeared. Once more it was necessary
to spread the report of her death, and once more rumour invested
the tale with ghastly elaborations. She had just assumed the cha-
racter of a very old woman, a sort of female Rip Van Winkle, whom
she called “ Catherine Parr,” when her husband, to whom she had
been married no less than six times, worn out by continual nagging
and limitless curtain lectures, suddenly died. His last words were,
“ Kate, dear Kate, it was very good of you to choose Catherine as
the Christian name of three of your clever and amusing impersona-
tions. You know I was always making mistakes when I had to call
you either Jane or Anne.” And with these grateful accents falling
from his poor, parched mouth, and a gentle smile playing upon
his poor, pale lips, the good-nartured and well-beloved monarch
expired.
From the above it will be seen that the master-passion of Henry
the Eighth was devotion to his wife. _ Naturally thrifty, religious,
and humane, he was more than once induced to commit deeds of
extravagance, sacrilege, and harshness at her instigation. But these
untoward acts were few and far between, and he hastened to make
reparation the moment they were committed. Thus, whenever he
was induced to behead a married nobleman, he invariably addressed
a letter of condolence and sympathy to the widow, timed to reach
her on the evening of her lord’s execution. This did he because he
was so essentially a family man himself that he could not bear to
hear of pain in the domestic circle of others. It would, perhaps,
have been better for his fame had he shown more firmness in his
dealings with his Queen; but, if he had, he might possibly have
lost his right to the title he has so justly earned, that of “ the Model
Husband.”
Leave and Licence.—A Theatrical Company, attempting to break
the dreadful and time-honoured dulness of Herne Bay by giving
dramatic performances, were fined about twelve pounds, and
solemnly cautioned by the Bench, who had previously refused a
licence to the building. The Company didn’t herne much at this
I place. At Ramsgate a licence was twice lost for the Promenade Pier,
because in the first instance the notice was posted on the wrong
church door, and in the second instance it was fixed to a window
| instead of a door. These are the things that give dignity to the
I Licensing System, and make it respected.