DOI issue:
August 16, 1884
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17757#0081
August 16, 1884.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
A LITTLE GAME FOR THE TWELFTH.
[By Dumb-Crcimbo Junior.)
Strong Brood.
IlM'ij
Commencement of the Shooting Season.
Beaters.
Shot over a Moo-er.
1,
n i.
LettiDg Flv.
Capital Bags.
First-rate S’pport.
The Daily News, giving an account of “Stormy Scenes” at the
Versailles Congress last week, reported that M. Douville Maille-
feu asked “if anybody stood anything to drink, and was called to
order.” This was a sharp and practical repartee. What he was
“called to order” is not mentioned; but as the Gentleman was so
anxious about somebody standing drinks, no doubt it would he
something good. Probably they sent round to the Hotel des Reser-
voirs, which sounds like the title of a Temperance Hotel. Fine
times at Versailles under the doddling old President of the National
Assembly, M. Leroyer. Vive le lioy-er ! Vive ! it’s just as much
as he can do.
New Dance for the Finale op the Session. — The “Break-
down ” of the Conference. Music by the European Concert Band.
A PLEA TOR THE PAST.
It is not Mr. Punch's custom to take any notice of anonymous
Correspondents, but the following plaintive epistle which came into
his possession in a somewhat peculiar manner—it was, in fact, dropped
down the chimney of the Fleet Street Sanctum at midnight—speaks
for itself ; and is, withal, so patently truthful and genuinely touching
that the most punctilious and iron-hearted Editor would surely relax
in its favour the most rigid of journalistic rules. Mr. Punch gives
it verbatim et literatim .—
Space at Large, Midnight, August 1st, 1884.
Honoured Mr. Punch,
It is all up with Antiquity ! That means, of course, that it
is all up with pedigrees and ancestral pictures, with ancient houses
and old families, with romance and ruins, and coming over with the
Conqueror, with titles and traditions, and keeps and drawbridges,
and muniment-chests and mysteries, and Family Ghosts; in short,
with everything that is ancient, and therefore respectable.
“ I thought so once, and now I know it,”
As the epitaph has it. How ? Look at your Times of to-day ? Not
content with breaking up family libraries and dispersing family
pictures and putting up islands to auction, the degenerate huckster-
souled descendants of “ our old nobility ” are actually about to sell
their ancient Ruins, and make a market of their Mediaeval Castles !
Fact, I assure you, on the honour of a Family Ghost! “The
extensive ruins of Middleham Castle in Yorkshire, celebrated
for its splendid Norman keep ” (but they don’t want to keep it), and
Goodrich Court and Castle on the "Wye are to be sold to the highest
bidder! The Goths! said I not rightly that it is all up with
Antiquity? It, like everything else, is going to the devil, or, what
is the same thing, the Hammer! This is the sort of thing we may
expect from the Robins of the period:—
“ Lot No. 104. Commanding Court and Castle in the Midlands,
with most desirable range of Ruins adjacent, to be sold at a great
sacrifice, in consequence of the owner (a descendant of the celebrated
Elystan Glodrydd) going into the Belfast Pig Trade. The mag-
nificent Norman keep, added in 1070, by the illustrious Baldwin de
Bollers, the friend and favourite of William the Conqueror, is in
capital preservation, and, with slight modifications, would make an
excellent factory-chimney. The range of ruins would only require a
few hundred yards of wire-netting to turn it into a capital poultry-
run. Or, if preferred, the whole affair could readily be converted
into a local Rosherville, the moat, flooded, being admirably adapted
for the growing of watercress, whilst the spacious courtyard would
make a splendid dancing platform or tennis-court. The mansion
itself, restored in 1818 by the late Mr. Bolster, could either be
transformed into an Hotel, fitted up as a factory, or let out in flats as
preferred. Or the whole lot as it stands would form an attractive
investment for any American speculator of patriotic spirit and
literary tastes. It could, at no great cost, be removed to the neigh-
bourhood of Boston or New York, and would help to furnish the
Great (but parvenu) Republic with that background of “dim past ”
and “ perspective of lineage and locality,” the lack of which their
Poets and Romancers are continually lamenting. N. B.—An authentic
and old-established Family Ghost, of romantic tastes and truly terri-
fying habits, is attached to the premises. Arrangements could be
made for this certificated spectre to remain on the spot as night-
watchman or stage-sprite, according to circumstances, or to accom-
pany the ‘lot’ to its destination across the Atlantic. If not
required by the purchaser, it could be sold to Messrs. Maskelyne
and Cooke, or the Psychical Society, or let out for use at Country
Fairs or Evening Parties.”
Sir, I am a Family Ghost, of some centuries standing—or walking
-and, as such, my trepidation at these appalling prospects is only
equalled by my indignation at the spirit that makes them possible.
Sir, I have heard of discounting the Future, but this is vending the
Past! An ancient nation which puts its Historical Perspective up to
auction, can only be compared with the unhappy wretch who sold
his shadow to the Evil One. It deserves, and would doubtless meet,
as melancholy a fate as the hapless Peter Schlehu* himself. Rather
than be torn from my nocturnal towers, or lumped with a lot for
exportation to that spectreless, romanceless, rubbishy America, !
would give up the ghost—in an esoteric sense—and be seen and shud-
dered at no more. But, Sir. it must not be ! Bring down your baton
heavily on these brutal huckstering Iconoclasts, make them under-
stand that Antiquity is not to become the helpless prey of the
Auctioneer, but that Old England shall still keep its Glorioiis Past,
Poetry its precious Perspective, and Romance its priceless Ruins !
Yours agitatedly yet hopefully,
A Fine Old Family Phantom
From our Own Boy in the Best Form.—Now that Warre is
settled at Eton, peace will be declared.
Vol. 87.
3—2
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
A LITTLE GAME FOR THE TWELFTH.
[By Dumb-Crcimbo Junior.)
Strong Brood.
IlM'ij
Commencement of the Shooting Season.
Beaters.
Shot over a Moo-er.
1,
n i.
LettiDg Flv.
Capital Bags.
First-rate S’pport.
The Daily News, giving an account of “Stormy Scenes” at the
Versailles Congress last week, reported that M. Douville Maille-
feu asked “if anybody stood anything to drink, and was called to
order.” This was a sharp and practical repartee. What he was
“called to order” is not mentioned; but as the Gentleman was so
anxious about somebody standing drinks, no doubt it would he
something good. Probably they sent round to the Hotel des Reser-
voirs, which sounds like the title of a Temperance Hotel. Fine
times at Versailles under the doddling old President of the National
Assembly, M. Leroyer. Vive le lioy-er ! Vive ! it’s just as much
as he can do.
New Dance for the Finale op the Session. — The “Break-
down ” of the Conference. Music by the European Concert Band.
A PLEA TOR THE PAST.
It is not Mr. Punch's custom to take any notice of anonymous
Correspondents, but the following plaintive epistle which came into
his possession in a somewhat peculiar manner—it was, in fact, dropped
down the chimney of the Fleet Street Sanctum at midnight—speaks
for itself ; and is, withal, so patently truthful and genuinely touching
that the most punctilious and iron-hearted Editor would surely relax
in its favour the most rigid of journalistic rules. Mr. Punch gives
it verbatim et literatim .—
Space at Large, Midnight, August 1st, 1884.
Honoured Mr. Punch,
It is all up with Antiquity ! That means, of course, that it
is all up with pedigrees and ancestral pictures, with ancient houses
and old families, with romance and ruins, and coming over with the
Conqueror, with titles and traditions, and keeps and drawbridges,
and muniment-chests and mysteries, and Family Ghosts; in short,
with everything that is ancient, and therefore respectable.
“ I thought so once, and now I know it,”
As the epitaph has it. How ? Look at your Times of to-day ? Not
content with breaking up family libraries and dispersing family
pictures and putting up islands to auction, the degenerate huckster-
souled descendants of “ our old nobility ” are actually about to sell
their ancient Ruins, and make a market of their Mediaeval Castles !
Fact, I assure you, on the honour of a Family Ghost! “The
extensive ruins of Middleham Castle in Yorkshire, celebrated
for its splendid Norman keep ” (but they don’t want to keep it), and
Goodrich Court and Castle on the "Wye are to be sold to the highest
bidder! The Goths! said I not rightly that it is all up with
Antiquity? It, like everything else, is going to the devil, or, what
is the same thing, the Hammer! This is the sort of thing we may
expect from the Robins of the period:—
“ Lot No. 104. Commanding Court and Castle in the Midlands,
with most desirable range of Ruins adjacent, to be sold at a great
sacrifice, in consequence of the owner (a descendant of the celebrated
Elystan Glodrydd) going into the Belfast Pig Trade. The mag-
nificent Norman keep, added in 1070, by the illustrious Baldwin de
Bollers, the friend and favourite of William the Conqueror, is in
capital preservation, and, with slight modifications, would make an
excellent factory-chimney. The range of ruins would only require a
few hundred yards of wire-netting to turn it into a capital poultry-
run. Or, if preferred, the whole affair could readily be converted
into a local Rosherville, the moat, flooded, being admirably adapted
for the growing of watercress, whilst the spacious courtyard would
make a splendid dancing platform or tennis-court. The mansion
itself, restored in 1818 by the late Mr. Bolster, could either be
transformed into an Hotel, fitted up as a factory, or let out in flats as
preferred. Or the whole lot as it stands would form an attractive
investment for any American speculator of patriotic spirit and
literary tastes. It could, at no great cost, be removed to the neigh-
bourhood of Boston or New York, and would help to furnish the
Great (but parvenu) Republic with that background of “dim past ”
and “ perspective of lineage and locality,” the lack of which their
Poets and Romancers are continually lamenting. N. B.—An authentic
and old-established Family Ghost, of romantic tastes and truly terri-
fying habits, is attached to the premises. Arrangements could be
made for this certificated spectre to remain on the spot as night-
watchman or stage-sprite, according to circumstances, or to accom-
pany the ‘lot’ to its destination across the Atlantic. If not
required by the purchaser, it could be sold to Messrs. Maskelyne
and Cooke, or the Psychical Society, or let out for use at Country
Fairs or Evening Parties.”
Sir, I am a Family Ghost, of some centuries standing—or walking
-and, as such, my trepidation at these appalling prospects is only
equalled by my indignation at the spirit that makes them possible.
Sir, I have heard of discounting the Future, but this is vending the
Past! An ancient nation which puts its Historical Perspective up to
auction, can only be compared with the unhappy wretch who sold
his shadow to the Evil One. It deserves, and would doubtless meet,
as melancholy a fate as the hapless Peter Schlehu* himself. Rather
than be torn from my nocturnal towers, or lumped with a lot for
exportation to that spectreless, romanceless, rubbishy America, !
would give up the ghost—in an esoteric sense—and be seen and shud-
dered at no more. But, Sir. it must not be ! Bring down your baton
heavily on these brutal huckstering Iconoclasts, make them under-
stand that Antiquity is not to become the helpless prey of the
Auctioneer, but that Old England shall still keep its Glorioiis Past,
Poetry its precious Perspective, and Romance its priceless Ruins !
Yours agitatedly yet hopefully,
A Fine Old Family Phantom
From our Own Boy in the Best Form.—Now that Warre is
settled at Eton, peace will be declared.
Vol. 87.
3—2