DOI issue:
October 21, 1882
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17753#0192
October 21, 1882.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
185
Benedick of Shaespeare’s comedy, as, for the companion picture, i
we had the real Beatrice in Miss Ellen Terry. . i
Music.—e have no space left, and therefore no lines, for the
G-rand Opera at Toole’s Theatre, nor for the New Opera at the Comedy. ;
En attendant, as to the first, we strongly recommend every one to
“catch the Speaker’s eve”—“The Singer’s I,” says Mr. Toole—at
10 p.m. any evening. At the Comedy, the production of Rip Van
Winkle, which, but for there being just something left of the good
old story, might almost as well have been styled Rip Van Pickwick,
or Rip Van Snodgrass, was preceded by a banquet given to the French
Comjjoser, Librettists, and foreign Journalists, by the Manager of the
Theatre, whereat one of our principal English Musical Critics drank
to the success of M. Planquette’s new Opera. We are not aware
whether this entertainment, so thoughtfully provided by the Manager
of the Comedy Theatre, was largely attended by our Musical and
Dramatic Critics ; but if Rip Van Winkle, seen through champagne
glasses, was not, in the eyes of the Critics, at all events, a big success,
it will not have been the fault of the Manager, who so j udiciously
applied Dr. Mowbray Morris’s “ Chicken-and-Champagne ” pre-
ventive treatment for Critical weaknesses.
HISTORY RE-VIEWED.
By Whyte Washcher.
No. II.—Oliver Cromwell, the Monarchy’s Defender.
The subject of this sketch was born at Huntingdon, in 1599, and
from his earliest years was distinguished for his devoted fidelity to
Charles the First, of whom, he was one of the most intimate
friends and staunch supporters.
In 1626, Cromwell, who had failed at St Ives as a farmer, came
up to London and entered Parliament. Here he was very much
worried by the vagaries of his royal master, who was constantly
playing idiotic tricks upon him. Charles and Oliver were very
unlike, but, by the aid of a clever theatrical perruquier, the former
could “ make-up ” so exactly like the latter, that their closest inti-
mates could not tell the difference between them. Taking advantage
of this power of disguising himself, Charles (who was passionately
fond of practical joking) used frequently to enter the House of
Commons in the costume of Cromwell. But this was not all. The
King, once in his friend’s seat, used immediately to rise and give
vent to the most democratic opinions—sentiments utterly opposed
to Cromwell’s feelings. After one of these freaks, Charles would
implore Oliver “ not to spoil the fun” by revealing the fraud to his
colleagues. Thus bound over to secresy, the poor fellow had to carry
on the deception, and gained in time, in consequence, a reputation
as a Puritan and a Republican. But his clothes, as well as his repu-
tation, suffered by these proceedings. Charles was very careless
of Oliver’s doublet and hose, and often took them off in rags and
tatters. Thus, Oliver was known not only as a traitor, but a
sloven. He was so persecuted by the Madcap Charles that at
last he determined to set sail for America. The King, however,
hearing of his butt’s intended departure, immediately prevented
the ship in which his berth had been taken from starting. So
poor Oliver was forced to return to Westminster, where, once
more, the absurd freaks of his illustrious companion constantly
got him into trouble. It was the favourite manoeuvre of Charles
to lure Oliver into taking a hot bath in the Palace. The moment
the favourite was safely covered with water, his incorrigible
associate used to annex his clothes, leaving him only an old dressing-
gown in their place. Then Charles would tell Oliver that he was
off for a month, and that he (Oliver) must represent him during his
absence. Fearful that the joking of his royal friend should be dis-
covered, the luckless Cromwell had to consent. During these trips
of Charles. Ollver used to keep his room, under the pretext of a
bad cold. He was forced to avoid seeing anyone for fear of identifi-
cation, and would only sign what was given him by Charles’s
Ministers, when the papers were pushed under the door of the King’s
hed-chamber. To make matters worse, Charles was constantly
opposing Royalty in the character of Cromwell, and, to use his own
words, “ mixing up things amazingly.” Poor Oliver, quite unused
to affairs of State, signed everything recklessly, including the death
warrant of Lord Strafford, who was thus beheaded accidentally.
In spite of this warning, the King grew fonder and fonder of
his masquerading, and Cromwell was nearly always established in
the Palace. He remonstrated in the most solemn manner with his
royal friend, and once actually refused to be a party any longer to
his master’s deceptions.
“ On your allegiance, Sir,” cried Charles, haughtily, “ I bid you
to remain as you are. I hate State, and infinitely prefer to be
known as Oliver Cromwell to playing the part of the Monarch.
Not another word. I command you, on your allegiance, to obey me.”
Thus ordered, the young man could only submit, so great was his
reverence for the royal dignity. But, as Charles’s absences became
longer and longer, matters grew worse in the country, and Cromwell,
at length, after a series of adventures (resulting from a number
of very elaborate practical jokes), found himself a close prisoner
at Whitehall. Here, in the character of his servant, the King
visited him.
“ Sire,” cried Oliver, falling upon one knee, “ see to what straits
you have brought me. I am actually going to be tried for you, and
the probabilities are that 1 shall be beheaded in your place ! With
the greatest possible respect, may I suggest that this is too much,
too much I ”
“ There is a great deal of sense in what you say, my dear Noll,”
replied Charles, “ but I could not help succumbing to the tempta-
tion of seeing you floundering about in my boots and crown. You
made such a mess of the Scotch campaign ; and, oh! you were
perfectly killing when you ran away at Naseby ! I wonder how you
managed to keep up my character, and that no one discovered you?”
“ I was forced to feign a toothache, Your Majesty,” explained
Cromwell, “and consequently walked about for several months
with my head tied up in a bundle.”
“ Ha, ha ! ” laughed Charles. “ Well, my dear Oliver, this is
the last trial to which you shall be subjected, but you must let me
have one joke more,” and then he explained his plans.
In the character of the IviDg, Cromwell was tried and condemned.
He was ordered to be beheaded. On the day before the execution,
Charles (disguised as Oliver) called upon him with a large bundle.
“ See here! ” said he, as he opened the package, “here is a panto-
mime head of myself. You will wear this to-morrow, and the exe-
cutioner (who is in the secret) will chop this off instead of your own,
The Great Block-Head Trick ; or, that’s how it's done.”
The only person who knows of the little trick is good Bishop Juxon.
Isn’t the idea a humorous one ? ” Cromwell was forced to confess
that the notion was undeniably quaint.
“ You are a good fellow, Oliver,” cried Charles, with some emo-
tion. “Iam sorry, by my thoughtless gaiety, to have put you to so-
much inconvenience.”
“ Say no more, Sire,” replied Cromwell, falling on his knees. “ I
would do anything in the sacred cause of Monarchy. Long live the
King ! ” The next day the execution took place, and the “ big head ”
of Charles the First was cut off with due solemnity. The King,
who would insist upon “ seeing the fun,” was concealed beneath the
scaffold. Suddenly His Majesty shouted out, “ Remember !”—a
proceeding which afterwards subjected Juxon to thousands of
inquiries (by post and personal) as to what was the meaning of the
word—and the ceremony was over.
It remains only to be said, that, after this, Oliver retired into
private life, and Charles (assuming his friend’s name and appear-
ance) took his place at Whitehall. The latter was a most successful
Administrator, and was for many years honoured as “the Lord
Protector.” When they both died, there was some confusion about
the sites of their respective graves, for reasons which, after this
explanation, will be sufficiently obvious. The story is now lost
in the mist of ages, but one thing is very certain, that Oliver
Cromwell richly merited the proud title of “the Monarchy’s
Defender.”
The Longfellow Memorial.—Mr. Jones, the proprietor of the
Mudborough Gazette; Mr. Horatio Delamere, of the Theatre
Royal, Slushington; Mr. Moore, of the Moore and Burgess Min-
strels ; Herr Meyer Lutz, conductor of the Gaiety Orchestra
Mr. D’Oyly Carte; General Booth; Mr. Fred Archer; Mr.
Alfred Thompson; Mr. Dion Boucicault, and Mr. J. L. Toole
have joined the Longfellow Memorial Committee.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
185
Benedick of Shaespeare’s comedy, as, for the companion picture, i
we had the real Beatrice in Miss Ellen Terry. . i
Music.—e have no space left, and therefore no lines, for the
G-rand Opera at Toole’s Theatre, nor for the New Opera at the Comedy. ;
En attendant, as to the first, we strongly recommend every one to
“catch the Speaker’s eve”—“The Singer’s I,” says Mr. Toole—at
10 p.m. any evening. At the Comedy, the production of Rip Van
Winkle, which, but for there being just something left of the good
old story, might almost as well have been styled Rip Van Pickwick,
or Rip Van Snodgrass, was preceded by a banquet given to the French
Comjjoser, Librettists, and foreign Journalists, by the Manager of the
Theatre, whereat one of our principal English Musical Critics drank
to the success of M. Planquette’s new Opera. We are not aware
whether this entertainment, so thoughtfully provided by the Manager
of the Comedy Theatre, was largely attended by our Musical and
Dramatic Critics ; but if Rip Van Winkle, seen through champagne
glasses, was not, in the eyes of the Critics, at all events, a big success,
it will not have been the fault of the Manager, who so j udiciously
applied Dr. Mowbray Morris’s “ Chicken-and-Champagne ” pre-
ventive treatment for Critical weaknesses.
HISTORY RE-VIEWED.
By Whyte Washcher.
No. II.—Oliver Cromwell, the Monarchy’s Defender.
The subject of this sketch was born at Huntingdon, in 1599, and
from his earliest years was distinguished for his devoted fidelity to
Charles the First, of whom, he was one of the most intimate
friends and staunch supporters.
In 1626, Cromwell, who had failed at St Ives as a farmer, came
up to London and entered Parliament. Here he was very much
worried by the vagaries of his royal master, who was constantly
playing idiotic tricks upon him. Charles and Oliver were very
unlike, but, by the aid of a clever theatrical perruquier, the former
could “ make-up ” so exactly like the latter, that their closest inti-
mates could not tell the difference between them. Taking advantage
of this power of disguising himself, Charles (who was passionately
fond of practical joking) used frequently to enter the House of
Commons in the costume of Cromwell. But this was not all. The
King, once in his friend’s seat, used immediately to rise and give
vent to the most democratic opinions—sentiments utterly opposed
to Cromwell’s feelings. After one of these freaks, Charles would
implore Oliver “ not to spoil the fun” by revealing the fraud to his
colleagues. Thus bound over to secresy, the poor fellow had to carry
on the deception, and gained in time, in consequence, a reputation
as a Puritan and a Republican. But his clothes, as well as his repu-
tation, suffered by these proceedings. Charles was very careless
of Oliver’s doublet and hose, and often took them off in rags and
tatters. Thus, Oliver was known not only as a traitor, but a
sloven. He was so persecuted by the Madcap Charles that at
last he determined to set sail for America. The King, however,
hearing of his butt’s intended departure, immediately prevented
the ship in which his berth had been taken from starting. So
poor Oliver was forced to return to Westminster, where, once
more, the absurd freaks of his illustrious companion constantly
got him into trouble. It was the favourite manoeuvre of Charles
to lure Oliver into taking a hot bath in the Palace. The moment
the favourite was safely covered with water, his incorrigible
associate used to annex his clothes, leaving him only an old dressing-
gown in their place. Then Charles would tell Oliver that he was
off for a month, and that he (Oliver) must represent him during his
absence. Fearful that the joking of his royal friend should be dis-
covered, the luckless Cromwell had to consent. During these trips
of Charles. Ollver used to keep his room, under the pretext of a
bad cold. He was forced to avoid seeing anyone for fear of identifi-
cation, and would only sign what was given him by Charles’s
Ministers, when the papers were pushed under the door of the King’s
hed-chamber. To make matters worse, Charles was constantly
opposing Royalty in the character of Cromwell, and, to use his own
words, “ mixing up things amazingly.” Poor Oliver, quite unused
to affairs of State, signed everything recklessly, including the death
warrant of Lord Strafford, who was thus beheaded accidentally.
In spite of this warning, the King grew fonder and fonder of
his masquerading, and Cromwell was nearly always established in
the Palace. He remonstrated in the most solemn manner with his
royal friend, and once actually refused to be a party any longer to
his master’s deceptions.
“ On your allegiance, Sir,” cried Charles, haughtily, “ I bid you
to remain as you are. I hate State, and infinitely prefer to be
known as Oliver Cromwell to playing the part of the Monarch.
Not another word. I command you, on your allegiance, to obey me.”
Thus ordered, the young man could only submit, so great was his
reverence for the royal dignity. But, as Charles’s absences became
longer and longer, matters grew worse in the country, and Cromwell,
at length, after a series of adventures (resulting from a number
of very elaborate practical jokes), found himself a close prisoner
at Whitehall. Here, in the character of his servant, the King
visited him.
“ Sire,” cried Oliver, falling upon one knee, “ see to what straits
you have brought me. I am actually going to be tried for you, and
the probabilities are that 1 shall be beheaded in your place ! With
the greatest possible respect, may I suggest that this is too much,
too much I ”
“ There is a great deal of sense in what you say, my dear Noll,”
replied Charles, “ but I could not help succumbing to the tempta-
tion of seeing you floundering about in my boots and crown. You
made such a mess of the Scotch campaign ; and, oh! you were
perfectly killing when you ran away at Naseby ! I wonder how you
managed to keep up my character, and that no one discovered you?”
“ I was forced to feign a toothache, Your Majesty,” explained
Cromwell, “and consequently walked about for several months
with my head tied up in a bundle.”
“ Ha, ha ! ” laughed Charles. “ Well, my dear Oliver, this is
the last trial to which you shall be subjected, but you must let me
have one joke more,” and then he explained his plans.
In the character of the IviDg, Cromwell was tried and condemned.
He was ordered to be beheaded. On the day before the execution,
Charles (disguised as Oliver) called upon him with a large bundle.
“ See here! ” said he, as he opened the package, “here is a panto-
mime head of myself. You will wear this to-morrow, and the exe-
cutioner (who is in the secret) will chop this off instead of your own,
The Great Block-Head Trick ; or, that’s how it's done.”
The only person who knows of the little trick is good Bishop Juxon.
Isn’t the idea a humorous one ? ” Cromwell was forced to confess
that the notion was undeniably quaint.
“ You are a good fellow, Oliver,” cried Charles, with some emo-
tion. “Iam sorry, by my thoughtless gaiety, to have put you to so-
much inconvenience.”
“ Say no more, Sire,” replied Cromwell, falling on his knees. “ I
would do anything in the sacred cause of Monarchy. Long live the
King ! ” The next day the execution took place, and the “ big head ”
of Charles the First was cut off with due solemnity. The King,
who would insist upon “ seeing the fun,” was concealed beneath the
scaffold. Suddenly His Majesty shouted out, “ Remember !”—a
proceeding which afterwards subjected Juxon to thousands of
inquiries (by post and personal) as to what was the meaning of the
word—and the ceremony was over.
It remains only to be said, that, after this, Oliver retired into
private life, and Charles (assuming his friend’s name and appear-
ance) took his place at Whitehall. The latter was a most successful
Administrator, and was for many years honoured as “the Lord
Protector.” When they both died, there was some confusion about
the sites of their respective graves, for reasons which, after this
explanation, will be sufficiently obvious. The story is now lost
in the mist of ages, but one thing is very certain, that Oliver
Cromwell richly merited the proud title of “the Monarchy’s
Defender.”
The Longfellow Memorial.—Mr. Jones, the proprietor of the
Mudborough Gazette; Mr. Horatio Delamere, of the Theatre
Royal, Slushington; Mr. Moore, of the Moore and Burgess Min-
strels ; Herr Meyer Lutz, conductor of the Gaiety Orchestra
Mr. D’Oyly Carte; General Booth; Mr. Fred Archer; Mr.
Alfred Thompson; Mr. Dion Boucicault, and Mr. J. L. Toole
have joined the Longfellow Memorial Committee.