_THE "PUNCH" CARTOONS OF JOHN LEECH._
We have seen that at the time John Leech commenced work as a comic
artist, the art of caricature was practically dead; it was not therefore
at all surprising, under the circumstances, that he should reverse, as
it were, the order of things: commence as an illustrator of books, and
finish his career as a graphic humourist. Although his first
contribution to _Punch_ commences in the fourth number, his cartoons so
called (from which, in accordance with the plan of this work we now
proceed to select a few examples) seem to us to call for little mention
before the year 1843.
PRINCE ALBERT.
His Royal Highness Prince Albert, who held high rank in the British army
by virtue of his exalted position, was most unjustly suspected in those
early _Punch_ days of a desire to interfere unduly with its
administration. He took, however, much interest in the dress and comfort
of the British soldier; and those who remember what military costume was
in 1843, will admit that there was room for improvement. Changes were
made indeed, but these changes can hardly be said to have been made in
the direction of either comfort, convenience, or good taste. The "Albert
hat" (as it was called), one of the ugliest, most ungainly, and
preposterous of military shakoes that was ever invented, made its
appearance about this time, and the idea was credited (rightly or
wrongly) to the amiable prince. Constant reference to this preposterous
invention is made in the pages of _Punch_, and the prince's questionable
taste in the matter of military costume is specially satirized in
Leech's amusing cartoon entitled _Prince Albert's Studio_.
Mr. O'Connell, at a great Repeal meeting held in September, 1843, had
expressed a hope that he should be able to give his dupes "as a new
year's gift a parliament on College Green." No one knew better than
himself the absurdity of such a promise. Had he named the first of April
for the presentation instead of the first of January, it would have been
more appropriate, and at least equally veracious. A great Repeal meeting
was intended to be held in October at Clontarf, three miles from Dublin,
at which certain supporters of the movement were to have attended on
horseback and paraded in the character of the "Repeal Cavalry." This
meeting the Irish executive prohibited by proclamation, and on the 14th,
O'Connell and other prominent leaders were arrested, and held to bail on
a charge of conspiracy. On the 24th of May, 1844, the Irish judges
sentenced him to twelve months' imprisonment, and a fine of L2,000. The
cartoon of _The Probable Effects of Good Living and no Exercise_ refers
to this result; but _Punch_ on this occasion was wrong. O'Connell proved
"too many" for the Irish lawyers. He appealed by writ of error to the
Lords, and on the 4th of September the judgment was reversed.[139] Sir
James Graham, the Home Secretary, and the government to which he
belonged, had encountered much odium in consequence of the opening of
certain letters which had passed through the post office. The result was
the appointment of a Committee of Secrecy by both Houses to inquire into
the official practice, and it would appear from their report that every
administration had been in the habit of exercising this espionage under
the authority of a warrant of the Secretary of State. The sins of the
past as well as of the present were visited on the head of Sir James,
who sought to throw the responsibility on higher powers; and in
reference to this, Sir James Graham and Sir Robert Peel figure
respectively as _Sairey Gamp_ and _Betsey Prig_, after Phiz's well-known
drawing. Sir James indeed seemed to have had rather a facility for
getting himself into trouble. There was much excitement in and out of
the House with reference to the additional grant to Maynooth College. In
the course of the debates, Sir James Graham retracted an expression
which he said had fallen from him in the heat of debate, viz. that
concession in favour of Ireland had reached its utmost limit, and hoped
that his actions had proved better than his words. Among the subsequent
cartoons by Leech, he figures as _Peel's Dirty Little Boy_. "Drat the
boy," says Dame Peel (as she chastises him), "he's _always_ in a mess."
Towards the close of the debate two remarkable speeches were delivered
by Lord John Russell and Sir Robert Peel, both of whom concurred in the
necessity of a conciliatory policy towards Ireland. This _rapprochement_
between the two leaders of the opposite camps, and the leanings of Sir
Robert in the direction of a Liberal policy, are referred to in Leech's
cartoons of _How do you Like the New Whig?_ and the _Premier's Fix_
(Peel between Free Trade and Protection), the last borrowed from one of
Cruikshank's drawings. _The Railway Juggernaut of 1845_ (also suggested
by Cruikshank's well-known etching), refers to the then mania for
dabbling in railway shares.
Between the two stools of Free Trade and Protection, Sir Robert, as
might have been anticipated, ultimately fell through; an event which is
chronicled in vol. x., the idea in this instance being taken from the
celebrated drawing in the late Mr. Clarke's "Three Courses and a
Dessert," the cartoon of Peel driving the vehicle of Protection, which
has broken down, bearing the title of _The Deaf Postilion_. A change of
ministry took place in 1846, little Lord John replacing Sir Robert Peel
as "First Lord of the Treasury." He cuts an amazingly queer figure (in
vol. xi.) in the ex-premier's huge hat, vast coat, and voluminous
waistcoat and inexpressibles. Little Lord John was an enduring subject
of _Punch's_ satire during that statesman's somewhat unsatisfactory
political career, and Leech was never weary of comparing him with his
far more brilliant and able contemporary. Here we have the pair figuring
as _Dombey and Son_ (Dombey being Sir Robert, and the son Lord John),
"Mr. Dombey was in a difficulty. He would like to have given him (_the
boy_) some explanation involving the terms circulating medium, currency,
depreciation of currency, paper, bullion, rates of exchange, value of
precious metals in the market, and so forth." The _Portrait of a Noble
Lord in Order_ refers to one of those exhibitions of want of tact,
taste, and temper in which Lord Brougham would seem to have
delighted.[140] "Who calls _me_ to order?" cries the "noble and learned"
lord, "Who calls _me_ to order? Pooh! Pooh! Fiddle-de-dee! I never was
in better order in my life. Noble lords don't know what they are about;"
a conspicuous and aggressive appurtenance of the "noble and learned," by
the way, is his preposterous umbrella. One of the most barbarous and
disgraceful of London neighbourhoods in 1847, and for many years
afterwards, was Smithfield; the present generation can form no idea of
the state of things thirty years ago, which is referred to in the
cartoon of _Punch and the Smithfield Savages_, the artist borrowing his
idea from West's well-known picture of "Penn's Treaty with the Indians."
The odious matrimonial swindle perpetrated by Louis Philippe with the
idea of ultimately seating a member of his family on the Spanish throne,
which has cast an indelible stain on his memory, had now been found out,
and attracted universal indignation. We find him, in reference to this
shameless piece of business, figuring as the _Fagin of France after
Condemnation_, the idea being suggested of course by Cruikshank's famous
etching in "Oliver Twist." Retribution overtook the mercenary monarch in
the year of disquietude and national unrest--1848; foreign kings and
potentates were sent flying in all directions, and Louis Philippe, who,
like the rest of his family had learnt nothing by misfortune, was among
the first to go. _Put Out_, one of the best of the artist's political
cartoons, represents an armed _ouvrier_ clapping the cap of _liberte_ by
way of extinguisher on the French candle (King Louis). Uneasy were the
heads which wore crowns in that year; and to the throned and unthroned
sovereigns, the former of whom watched these untoward events with
nervous interest, John Leech presented a seasonable gift in the form of
_A Constitutional Plum Pudding_, served up by Mr. Punch on Magna Charta,
and curiously compounded of "Liberty of the Press," "Common Sense,"
"Order," "Trial by Jury," "Religion," and "True Liberty of the Subject."
Among the sovereigns who had a peculiarly insecure seat at this period
was Mastai Ferretti, better known as Pope Pius IX. His temporal power
was weak, whilst his spiritual dominion, as might have been expected,
had never been much stronger. To bolster up the former, and at the same
time find employment for his troops, Louis, Prince President of the
French Republic, sent an army to Rome, thus affording matter for the
speculation of his countrymen, who were puzzled to know what possible
concern a French Republic could have with the affairs of the Papacy.
Allusion to this is made in Leech's cartoon of _The French Cock and the
Roman Eagle_, in which the bird of higher caste, chained and fettered,
is unable to offer anything like fair resistance to his unwilling
antagonist. In a _Bright Idea_, we have the apostle of peace (whose
uncompromising arguments in its favour have driven us before now in the
direction of war) figuring as a recruiting sergeant, and endeavouring to
enlist the "Iron Dook."
GENERAL HAYNAU.
In no country perhaps are women more cruelly used than among the poorer
classes of England, while in no country under the sun is greater
sympathy expressed for the weaker sex; a paradox which was strikingly
exemplified in 1850. The Austrian General Haynau in that year paid a
visit to this country. Some time before he had earned unenviable
notoriety by his treatment of the wives and daughters of Hungarian
insurgents who fell into his hands, and it was reported, probably with
much exaggeration, that regardless of sex and condition he had subjected
these hapless fugitives to the indignity of corporal punishment. The
rising had been however some time repressed, and there was every reason
to believe that in this country at least the rumour had been forgotten.
Among the sights the General had been recommended to visit in London was
the celebrated brewery of Messrs. Barclay & Perkins, and no sooner was
his presence discovered, than he was simultaneously attacked by the
draymen, and narrowly escaped with his life. He got small sympathy from
_Punch_, who, in vol. xix., presented Leech's _Sketch of a Most
Remarkable Flea found in General Haynau's Ear_. "_Who's Dat Knocking at
de Door?_" is a question put by Johnny Russell to old Joe (Hume), who
once in every session in those days stood knocking at the door with his
banjo labelled, "Extension of the Suffrage."
THE "PAPAL AGGRESSION."
Macaulay, writing in 1840,[141] referred to the progress of what he
happily termed "The Catholic Revival of the Nineteenth Century." This
revival was never more clearly exemplified than at the very time the
temporal power was most seriously endangered. Such of the temporal
power, indeed, as was left to it has gone, probably for ever; while the
spiritual power of the Papacy, at least in Protestant England, as must
be patent to any one who has given the subject the smallest attention,
has unostentatiously but enormously increased, especially within the
last twenty years. The year 1850 was remarkable for what was then known
among us as the "Papal Aggression," and _Punch_ and his "right-hand man"
were exceedingly angry. Among the cartoons which they fulminated on the
occasion were the following: _The Guy Fawkes of 1850_ [_i.e._ the Pope]
_Preparing to Blow up all England_; _The Thin End of the Wedge_ [the
Pope trying with his jemmy, labelled "Roman Archbishopric of
Westminster," to force the doors of the English Church]. It is both a
singular and significant circumstance, that at this time the Ritualists,
or rather Puseyites, were helping on the work of Rome by promoting, if
not schism, at least dissension in the Church of England by advocating
the strictest attention to the letter instead of the spirit of the
rubric and liturgy. We find, in special reference to the assistance
thus, in some cases we believe unconsciously, rendered to the Romish
Church, _The Puseyite Moth_ flying into the Roman Catholic candle; and
_Fashion in 1850, or a Page for the Puseyites_, in which we see the
Bishops of Lincoln, Oxford, and Exeter dropping the hot poker of
Puseyism, and the Pope, as monkey, making a _catspaw_ of _poor
Pus(s)ey_ [the Doctor lately deceased]; again, in vol. xx., Punch (a
boy) inquires of an episcopal showman, who holds the model of a church
on his stand, "Please, Mr. Bishop, which is Popery and which is
Puseyism?" To which the episcopal showman replies, "Whichever you like,
my little dear"; another cartoon represents a Puseyite parson who has
received "warning" from his cook. Inquiring the reason of her
dissatisfaction, he receives the following reply: "Well, sir, the fact
is I aint equal to them Fast days; for what with a hegg here, and a hegg
there, and little bits of fish for breakfastes, and little bits of fish
for dinners, and the sweet omelicks, and the fried and stewed hoysters,
and the Bashawed lobsterses, and one think and the hother, there's so
much cooking that I aint even time to make up a cap!" Another
influential person besides Mr. Punch was terribly indignant at this
aggressive movement on the part of the Papacy, and loudly avowed his
determination to go any length to put a stop to it. This was my Lord
John Russell, who, after vapouring like "ancient Pistol," quietly
sneaked off after his usual fashion, and did nothing. He got, however, a
well-merited dressing from Leech, who showed him up in his true
character in a contemporary number as _The Boy who Chalked up "No
Popery," and then Ran Away_. It was these Papal satires (as we shall
afterwards see) which led to the secession from _Punch_, and the
consequent loss to satiric art, of one of its most genial and capable
professors, the late Richard Doyle;[142] a loss followed (if we may so
term it) by a compensating gain. Richard Doyle's place was almost
immediately taken by an artist of great and exceptional power, for more
than twelve years the friend and coadjutor of John Leech--Mr. Tenniel,
who makes his first appearance in _Punch's_ twentieth volume.
The long peace which followed the national and European struggle with
Napoleon had produced a curious effect upon ourselves. While Russia took
advantage of the lull to recruit her colossal forces, and Prussia to
perfect the military system which took us so much by surprise half a
century afterwards, we, on the other hand, wearied with our long and
arduous struggle, had fallen asleep, and dreamed pleasantly that the
"Millennium" was at hand. With this idea apparently in our minds, we
inscribed on the walls of the Great Exhibition of 1851, the Scriptural
text which tells us that "swords shall be beaten into ploughshares and
spears into pruning hooks, neither shall they learn war any more." A
significant commentary on the text was found in the fact that many of
the exhibits at the "World's Fair" consisted of cannon, rifles, and
other lethal instruments of improved method and construction, intended
for the wholesale destruction of the human race. We read the Scriptural
text, and viewed these exhibits as relics of a barbarism which had
existed six and thirty years before, oblivious of the circumstance that
an incompetent general had "wiped out" a British army in Afghanistan,
and that we had crushed the empire of Runjeet Singh on the banks of the
Sutlej not so many years before. The closing of the Exhibition is
commemorated by a cartoon, in which Leech shows us the famous Amazon
putting on her bonnet and shawl, chatting the while with Hiram Power's
Greek Slave, who, habited in "bloomer" costume, prepares likewise to
take her departure. Allusion to the bribery and corruption prevalent at
a notorious borough of that day is made in a sketch which depicts the
_Horror of that Respectable Saint, St. Alban's, at Hearing the
Confession of a St. Alban's Elector_.
THE COUP D'ETAT.
Remarkable results were destined to follow the year of unrest--1848.
Louis Philippe had been replaced in France by Louis Napoleon, who seems
to have been elevated to the Presidency of the Republic because he was
considered to be so absolutely harmless, the principle followed being
analogous to that observed at the election of a Pope, which has resulted
more than once in an unpleasant surprise for the cardinal electors.
Those who had formed a low estimate of his abilities, found that Louis
was no longer the "half-saved" youth of Boulogne and Strasburg; that he
had learnt some stern lessons in the hard school of adversity; that he
had developed, moreover, a firm and decided will of his own. We thought
it a hazardous experiment on the part of French Republicans, for Louis
held a craze on the subject of his uncle's "ideas," and the craze had
sufficient "method" to induce us to believe that he was the last man who
would have been selected to fill the presidential chair. As a refugee in
England, we had given him small credit for sagacity; and as an emperor
and a man, history has already said of him that he was cunning,
unreliable, and thoroughly unscrupulous. Although a comparison between
the two men is impossible, there was at least this similarity between
the two Napoleons, that both were indebted for their elevation to the
imperial purple to a revolution; here, however, all resemblance ceased.
The first Napoleon relied upon himself alone, while Louis was advised by
counsellors and adventurers wiser and more unscrupulous than himself,
and who were prepared to back his fortunes with a view of advancing
their own. At the close of 1851, Europe was electrified by the
unexpected and dastardly blow delivered by these men, and by means of a
"great crime," the history of which has been so graphically related by
Victor Hugo, Louis Napoleon, Prince President of the Republic, found
himself master of the destinies of France. The event is referred to by
John Leech in the cartoon of _France is Tranquil!!!_ which she cannot
well fail to be, seeing that we find her bound hand and foot; a
chain-shot fastened to her foot, and a sentry menacing her with his
bayonet. The next volume shows us the Prince President in the act of
being measured by his military tailor, while he offers money to his
cast-off mistress _Liberte_, her mother (France) looking indignantly on.
Immediately behind, a priest (in allusion to the support which the Papal
party were receiving from this "eldest son of the Church") helps himself
from a plate of money which stands by the President's side; the floor is
littered with miscellaneous articles,--bayonets, knapsacks, imperial and
other crowns, crosses of the legion of honour, the _code
Napoleon_,--and, in reference to Louis's craze on the subject of his
uncle and his "ideas," one of Napoleon's old boots. On a stool stands a
bust of the first Napoleon, and on a chair to the right a roll of
"Imperial purple."
By the year 1853, the only persons who steadily shut their eyes to the
signs of the times, and continued steadfastly to believe in the
immediate advent of the "Millennium," were the peace-at-any-price party
(represented by Messrs Bright and Cobden), the members of the Peace
Society, and the very strange people who obstinately opposed any attempt
on the part of England to provide for her national safety by putting her
defences in order. To the Peace Society, Leech especially addressed his
cartoon of _No Danger_, which represents a donkey braying in front of a
loaded cannon; while to the mischievous lunatics who opposed any scheme
of national defence, he dedicated an appropriate gift in the shape of _A
Strait Waistcoat Worked by the Women of England_.[143] By this time John
Bull had awoke from his dreams, and tacitly admitting that the time for
conversion of his swords into ploughshares and his spears into pruning
hooks had scarcely arrived, adopted the far more sensible method of
sending his troops to the camp at Chobham by way of getting them
acclimatized to the trials and vicissitudes of wind and weather. This
step leads of course to a number of little pleasantries. In one cartoon
we see an officer of household cavalry parting his hair in front of his
cuirass, whilst a soldier servant brings him his shaving water in a
bucket; another, entitled _A Cold in the Head_, represents an officer in
this melancholy condition, who requests his servant to bring him his
bucket of gruel as "sool as he has tallowed his loze." John, in fact,
had been aroused from his slumbers by the Emperor Nicholas, who,
thinking it a good time to appropriate Turkey, was suspected of having
offered a slice to Austria. The rumour is referred to in the cartoon of
_The Old 'Un and the Young 'Un_, in which we see the Russian and
Austrian Emperors at table with a bottle of port between them, "Now
then, Austria," says Nicholas, "just help me to finish the Port(e)." In
another cartoon, John Bull nails the Russian eagle to his barn door,
remarking to his French friend the while, that _he_ "wouldn't worry the
Turkeys any more." Lord Aberdeen, who, notwithstanding the signs of the
times, refused like Nicholas to believe in a war with England, is
represented placidly smoking the _Pipe of Peace_ over a barrel of
gunpowder.
Thanks to Messrs Bright and Cobden, who obstinately persisted in
opposing the popular feeling which had set in steadily in the direction
of war,--thanks to the exertions of the Peace Society, who were not
restrained from sending certain zealous members of their body to the
Emperor Nicholas, who not unnaturally supposed that these broad-brimmed
gentlemen represented the sentiments of the great English people,--but
thanks above all to the French Emperor and his astute advisers, who were
enabled to take advantage of the state of English feeling to hoodwink
the "great nation" by the prospect of an alliance with a great and
respectable power, the year 1854 found us in actual conflict with
Russia, starting off after our usual fashion with a handful of men to
attack the strongest fortress in Europe, provided with an unlimited
supply of men and metal and inexhaustible stores of warlike _materiel_
of all kinds. In vol. xxvi. we see Her Majesty _Throwing the Old Shoe_
after her Guards, who, for the first time since 1815, are seen setting
out on foreign service. Another cartoon, which has reference to our
_Bombardment of Odessa_, is divided into two parts, in one of which we
see Lord Aberdeen (whose dream of peace had been so rudely dissipated),
and in the other Nicholas of Russia, both reading the newspaper. Says
Aberdeen, "Bombardment of Odessa! Dear me, this will be very
disagreeable to my imperial friend!" Says the Emperor, "Bombardment of
Odessa! Confound it! this will be very annoying to dear old Aberdeen!"
In November, 1854, occurred our disastrous victory of Inkermann, in
which scarcely four thousand English troops found themselves opposed by
forty thousand Russians and drove them into flight. No thanks, however,
to our allies, who--with the exception of sixty brave Zouaves and their
lieutenant, who played truant from their regiment to give us timely
assistance--either looked on or absolutely ran away.[144] Spectators of
this battle were two of the Imperial family, a circumstance alluded to
in vol. xxvii. by Leech's cartoon of _The Russian Bear's Licked Cubs,
Nicholas and Michael_.
THE PURCHASE SYSTEM.
Picton remarked of our officers, when _en route_ to Waterloo, that with
fifty thousand of his own men, and _French_ officers at their head, he
would march from one end of Europe to the other. But both the quality of
French officers and soldiers had deteriorated at the time of the Crimean
War, and was destined still further to deteriorate until the utter
unsoundness of their military discipline was laid bare years afterwards by
Prussia. The French had no generals, while we had _one_ general and an
excellent body of soldiers. Unquestionably the Russian war did us the
service of thoroughly exposing the rottenness of our military system so
far as concerned the officering of the army. The principle followed was
precisely that complained of by Sir Thomas Picton forty years before;
there was no actual test of fitness until it came to be subjected to the
practical test of emergency; money invariably had the advantage of merit,
not only in the appropriation of first commissions, but in the purchase of
subsequent regimental grades, which were given in exchange for pecuniary
value, and not as a reward for military efficiency. The material thus
obtained was splendid as regards manliness and bravery, but something more
than these were wanted in the absence of a leader like the great Duke; and
although the type selected is an extreme one, the result may be indicated
by my Lord Cardigan, who, though equal to any amount of endurance and
heroism, proved himself incapable of the exercise of the smallest particle
of common sense. The scandal of the then existing system of purchase was
aptly exposed by the artist in vol. xxviii., where we find a rich titled
old lady in a shop served by military counter-jumpers, one of whom,
wrapping up a lieutenant-colonelcy for her boy, inquires, in the
well-known jargon of the trade, "What is the next article?" in answer to
which she expresses a wish to have "a nice majority for his little
brother"; a wounded officer with his arm in a sling timidly inquires the
price of a captain's commission, and turns wearily away on finding the
preposterous price (L3,694) is wholly beyond his means. Fortunately for
us (for events proved that in trusting to French assistance we were
leaning on a broken reed indeed!) the Russian rank and file, besides being
badly led, were as inferior to our own in endurance and pluck as they were
superior to us in the mere matter of numbers. Justly wondering why forty
thousand men, supported by twenty thousand reserves, had failed to hold
their own against a mere handful of British infantry, Nicholas
nevertheless treated the result apparently in a philosophical spirit, and
calmly asked his people to wait for "Generals _Janvier_ and _Fevrier_."
But the brave man's heart was broken, and when February came it found the
Imperial prophet a corpse.[145] The death of this great and disappointed
man is forcibly commemorated by Leech's memorable cartoon of _General
Fevrier Turned Traitor_. Lord John Russell, true to his character of "Lord
Meddle and Muddle," had done nothing for us at the Congress, and in _The
Return from Vienna_, Her Majesty catches the frightened little statesman
by the collar and angrily asks him, "Now, sir, what a time you have been!
What's the answer?" To her Lord John--"Please 'M--there
is--is--is--is--isn't any answer."
An English general in those days was so scarce a commodity that in Lord
Raglan we seemed absolutely to have exhausted the supply: one old
incapable was replaced by another, until the dearth of English military
ability became at length nothing less than an absolute scandal. In _What
we must Come to_, reference is made to this lamentable state of things,
wherein an old woman in bonnet and shawl, with a capacious umbrella,
applies for a post to Lord Panmure (the Minister of War), "Oh, if you
please, sir, did you want a sperity old woman to see after things in the
Crimea? No objection to being made a Field Marshal, and glory not so
much an object as a good salary"; in another (_A Grand Military
Spectacle_) we find the heroes of the campaign engaged in inspecting the
Field Marshals, a pair of decrepid, purblind, old men seated in arm
chairs; in the third we recognise the amiable Prince Consort, who was
most unjustly suspected in those days of a desire to interfere in the
administration of our military matters--it would be moonshine to term it
military _system_, as we had none. _The New Game of Follow my Leader_ is
a palpable hit at a practice common enough too in those days.
Applications were frequently made by officers for leave to return home
on the plea of "urgent private affairs," and you were astonished to see
gentlemen walking about whose duty it was to be with their regiments in
the Crimea. In the cartoon referred to, a long line of soldiers is drawn
up in front of the general's tent; a little drummer boy steps out of the
ranks, and making the usual salute inquires, "Please, general, may me
and these other chaps have leave to go home on _urgent private
affairs_?"
A more unsatisfactory state of things for the belligerents all round
than this miserable Crimean conflict can scarcely well be imagined. Lord
Raglan, who had learned war by practical experience under the eye of the
great Duke himself, speedily realized the fact that he had been made the
victim of French military jealousy and imbecility, the leaders having
been selected not on account of their military efficiency, but solely
for attachment to the cause of the Emperor. The battle of the Alma had
been won without the assistance of the French, who for all practical
purposes might just as well have been away.[146] Marshal St. Arnaud,
who, to do him simple justice, was at this time dying literally by
inches, had refused to follow up the defeated Russians,[147] whose
retreat a _competent_ French general must have converted into an
absolute rout; whilst, had he followed the advice and wishes of Lord
Raglan, we should probably have entered Sebastopol in a fortnight,
instead of having to wait three years for an event which was afterwards
accomplished at a ruinous waste of time, men, _materiel_, and
money.[148] We had defeated the Russians at Inkerman without French
assistance,[149] whilst the timidity and professional jealousy on that
occasion of Marshal Canrobert had again failed to turn _our_ success
into a crushing disaster for the enemy.[150] If England was
dissatisfied, Russia was still more discontented, and her strength
moreover at this time well-nigh exhausted. Efforts in the direction of
peace were being made by Austria, which are referred to in the cartoon,
_Staying Proceedings_ (vol. xxx.), wherein plaintiff John Bull instructs
his solicitor Clarendon (who is setting off for Paris bag in hand),
"Tell Russia," says angry John, "tell Russia if he doesn't settle at
once I shall go on with the action;" but so unprofitable to us in the
end was the arrangement effected by the solicitor, that the action was
settled after all on the terms of each party having to pay their own
costs. This preposterous result is referred to in the admirable sketch
entitled _Swindling the Clarendon_, wherein landlord Bull angrily
expostulates with his two waiters (Louis Napoleon and Palmerston),
"What!" says John, "_quite the gentleman_! Why he has left nothing but a
portmantel of bricks and stones, and gone off without paying the
bill."[151]
Just complaints were made in the papers of 1857 of the arrangements, or
rather want of arrangements, at the Royal _levees_. The space was
circumscribed and the crush frightful, and ladies returned from the
ceremony with torn dresses and dishevelled hair, just as if they had
been engaged in some feminine battle-royal. To accustom them to this
uncomfortable but apparently inevitable ordeal, John Leech, in one of
the very best of his sketches (vol. xxxii.), suggested a _Training
School for Ladies about to Appear at Court_, where we see charming women
in court dresses leaping over forms, crowding beneath barriers, and
going through a vigorous course of saltatory exercises, to prepare them
for what they might expect at the ceremony; the floor is strewn with
broken fans, gloves, feathers, watches, and jewellery; while one fat old
lady, who, in attempting to scramble beneath the barrier has become a
permanent fixture, presents a truly comical appearance.
THE ENGLISH DISSATISFIED.
The war was at an end; the "Eastern Question," as it was called in the
political jargon of that day, had been settled for the next twenty
years, and John Bull had now leisure to sit down to count the cost, and
consider the value of the French alliance, and the quality of the
assistance he had derived from French generalship and the French army.
The result of John's calculation was eminently unsatisfactory to
himself, for he felt that while he had done all the hard work and nearly
all the fighting, the French, as might have been expected, had arrogated
to themselves all the praise. John in his secret heart was angry; he
felt he had been drawn into a contest from which he personally derived
little advantage, and from which he emerged nominally triumphant at a
ruinous waste of men and money; the Frenchman, on his part, was doubtful
of the reality of the _gloire_ he claimed for himself, and distinctly
conscious, moreover, that the English soldiers looked coldly on the
French army and its achievements.[152] The result was a feeling of
secret dissatisfaction on both sides, which found, however, no actual
expression until an unexpected circumstance afforded opportunity for its
manifestation. The war had been succeeded by a period of inaction, a
state of things always dreaded by Louis, who was now harassed by plots
and conspiracies, and a certain foreigner connected, or supposed to be
connected, with one of these had sought and found an asylum on our
shores. Certain valorous French colonels, desirous of displaying their
loyalty at a cheap cost, presented an address to his Majesty, which
contained the following intemperate passage:--"Let the miserable
assassins--the subaltern agents of such crimes--receive the chastisement
due to their abominable attempts; but also, let the _infamous haunt_
where machinations so infernal are planned _be destroyed for ever_....
Give us the order, sire, and we shall pursue them even to their places
of security." French military composition, even in the time of the first
Napoleon, was never of the highest order of merit, and the third
Napoleon, whose policy it was to distract the attention of his people
from reflecting on the questionable means by which he had attained his
position, never lost an opportunity of earning popularity with any class
of his subjects, particularly with the army. He suffered this
quintessence of bombastic absurdity to appear in the pages of the
official _Moniteur_, whence it was duly copied by the English
newspapers, and afforded us the most intense amusement. _Punch_ answered
this valorous appeal with Leech's celebrated cartoon (in vol. xxxiv.) of
_Cock-a-doodle-do!_ wherein the French cock, habited in the uniform of a
French colonel, crows most lustily on his own dunghill. This remarkable
caricature possesses a singular historical interest, as it exactly
expresses the feeling which pervaded England for some time after the
close of the Crimean war. The hostile spirit towards Frenchmen which
formed a part of John Leech's nature, once aroused was not easily
allayed, and in the same volume he gives us specimens of _Some Foreign
Produce that Mr. Bull can very well Spare_, in which he angrily includes
French conspirators, vile French women, organ grinders (the artist's
peculiar abomination), and other foreign refuse of an objectionable
character. Further on, he follows up the subject in _A Discussion Forum
(!) as Imagined by our Volatile Friends_, which represents a party of
English conspirators from a French point of view. They wear the peaked
hats, long cravats, long hair, boots, and inexpressibles peculiar to the
Reign of Terror, and carry knives, revolvers, axes, and other weapons of
destruction; a speaker occupies the rostrum, and below him sits the
registrar with a bowl of blood, in which sanguinary fluid the
proceedings are supposed to be recorded. The opposite picture, _A
Discussion Forum (!) as it is in Reality_, shows us a number of foolish,
ignorant, harmless youths, smoking pipes, drinking brandy and water, and
discussing politics (so far as they are capable of understanding them)
in a tavern club-room. Returning once more to his attacks on what he
justly deemed the Romanizing tendency of the practices of certain
members of the English Church, he gives us the cartoon of _Religion a la
Mode_, in which a handsome woman is about to "confess" to a truculent
and knavish looking ritualist. In the distance appears John Bull with
his horsewhip, "No, no, Mr. Jack Priest," says he; "after all I have
gone through, I am not such a fool as to stand any of _this_ disgusting
nonsense." Some sensation was created this year by a private fete which
was given by a member of the aristocracy at Cremorne Gardens. It
occasioned considerable talk at the time, and as Ritualism was then in
the ascendant amongst certain female leaders of fashion, Leech gives us
(in vol. xxxv.) a powerful picture, entitled _Aristocratic Amusements_,
in which John Thomas asks his mistress (a magnificent specimen of the
artist's handsome women) as he puts up the steps of her carriage,
whither she would wish to be driven,--"Confession or Cremorne, my lady?"
Misfortune, the proverb tells us, makes us acquainted with strange
associates. The Emperor Louis, during his early exile, had picked up
certain undesirable acquaintances, who were in the habit in after life
of forcing themselves on his notice after a peculiarly disagreeable and
dangerous fashion. His unfaithfulness to the principles of the
brotherhood of which he and they had been members, had seriously
exercised the minds of certain of these quondam acquaintances, who had
given forcible expression to their feelings by attempting his
assassination. The pear-shaped hand grenades of Orsini and his
fellow-conspirator were the fruit of Louis's early connection with the
secret societies of the Carbonari. They indicate the forces which
controlled the policy of the Third Napoleon, and obliged him constantly
to pick quarrels with his neighbours for the double purpose of employing
his army and of keeping the attention of his restless subjects and
quondam acquaintances distracted from himself. As the advisers upon
whom he depended were removed by death, the absence of military capacity
which his habitual reticence had concealed was manifested by his
extraordinary ignorance of the weakness of the force which he had at his
disposal, and the utter rottenness of its organization. Meanwhile
Italian assassins warned Louis's advisers of the desperate insecurity of
the tenure by which they held their own position, and of the necessity
of distracting the attention of the restless spirits who made it their
business to inquire into their master's title. Within a year, therefore,
of the execution of Orsini and his friend, a quarrel was fastened on the
Austrian ambassador, which reminded us of the first Emperor's insult to
our own Lord Whitworth, and the Imperial word went forth that Italy was
to be freed "from the Alps to the Adriatic."[153] Although Louis was
unable to accomplish this programme, he was enabled by great good
fortune, the aid of Sardinia, the execrably bad generalship of the
Austrians, and the military _prestige_ which still attached to the
French name, to pave the way for this result; and Austria was not only
humbled, but had moreover to surrender Venetia to Sardinia. No sooner
was the war over, than Louis was suspected of casting longing eyes at
the territories of his brave little ally,[154] and in _A Scene from the
New Pantomime_, he figures as clown, holding a revolver in his hand,
with a goose marked "Italy" in his capacious pocket, assuring Britannia
(a stout elderly woman who looks suspiciously on) that his intentions
were of the most honourable description.
In the sketch entitled _The Next Invasion, Landing of the French (Light
Wines), and Discomfiture of Old General Beer_ (vol. xxxviii.), we have a
pictorial prophecy which has not borne fulfilment. Although the
so-called _vin ordinaire_ made some progress among us for a time, it was
soon discovered that a low class of wine, which the French themselves
would not drink, was being manufactured for the English market, and that
good sound claret remained (as might have been anticipated) as dear, if
not dearer, than ever. The climate and constitution of John Bull do not
enable him to appreciate the merits of "red ink" as a table beverage,
and in the end old General Barleycorn rallied and drove the invaders out
of the popularity they had for a time achieved.
* * * * *
And here we break off--for reasons which will be apparent in our next
chapter--the further consideration of the graphic satires of the late
John Leech. Before passing on to other matters, we are bound to say that
we regard them rather for what they might have been than for what we
actually find them. Had they been executed with the same materials and
under the same conditions as the graphic satires of Gillray or
Cruikshank, or still better, in the manner in which the sporting
pictures to the late Mr. Surtees' novels were produced, we have no
hesitation in saying that they would have distanced anything in the
nature of caricature which had gone before. Unfortunately, the
productions of the modern caricaturist (if, indeed, we may term him one)
have no reasonable chance, it being apparently taken for granted that a
modern public will not invest in caricatures of an expensive
character.[155] Moreover, he has no longer any hand in the completion of
his picture, the wood-block being cut up into segments, each entrusted
to a different hand, and executed with materials with which the older
caricaturists had nothing to do, and under conditions of pressure and
haste to which they were happily strangers. Hence it is, that while the
admirable satires of John Leech enhance the value of the _Punch_ volumes
themselves, taken _singly_, not only will they not command a fiftieth
part of the price asked and given for the coloured but inferior
productions of an earlier school, but they are to all intents and
purposes valueless. Leech himself has often been known to say to friends
who admired his composition on the wood block:--"Wait till Saturday, and
see how the engraver will have spoiled it." We will subject the justice
of these observations to a practical test. Let the reader compare an
ordinary _Punch_ cartoon with one of the tinted lithographs issued from
the _Punch_ office during the artist's lifetime under the title of _The
Rising Generation_, and he cannot fail to be struck with the enormous
advantages possessed by the latter. These last have their price, and
command, by reason of their scarcity, a comparatively high one.
FOOTNOTES:
[139] The prosecution, however, answered its purpose. The funds of
the Repeal Association were nearly exhausted by the contest, the
influence of the "Liberator," as he was called, was destroyed, and he
himself was more guarded and circumspect in his language. He died
three years afterwards.
[140] See the "Political Sketches of HB."
[141] _Edinburgh Review_, October, 1840.
[142] See Chapter xviii.
[143] The national defences, such as they are, being an accomplished
fact, these strange people are now making themselves active in the
promotion of the last suicidal mania--the Channel Tunnel!
[144] _Vide_ Kinglake's "Invasion of the Crimea."
[145] There are of course curious stories about as to the _cause_ of
the Emperor's death: for one of these see "Journal of the Rev. J. C.
Young," vol. ii. p. 331.
[146] Figures will conclusively prove who bore the burden and heat of
the day. The English loss was: killed, 25 officers, 19 sergeants, 318
rank and file; 81 officers, 102 sergeants, and 1,438 rank and file
wounded. The French loss was simply 60 killed and 500 wounded. The
Russian loss in killed and wounded was 5,709.
[147] Kinglake's "Invasion of the Crimea," 6th edition, 1877, vol.
iii. p. 305.
[148] Kinglake's "Invasion of the Crimea," 6th edition, 1877, vol.
iii. p. 349.
[149] At 8.30 a.m. the Russians had 17,000 infantry and 100 guns
opposed to 3,600 English with 36 guns and 1,600 French infantry and
12 guns [_Ibid._ vol. vi. p. 321]. Three hours later on, Canrobert
had under his orders 9,000 fresh men, who remained inactive: "So far
as concerned any active exertion of infantry power, our people were
now left to fight on _without any_ aid from the French"--_Ibid._ pp.
416, 417.
[150] _Ibid._ vol. vi. pp. 439, 440.
[151] A more telling commentary on our useless waste of blood and
treasure could scarcely be found. Truly they manage these things
better in Germany.
[152] See the remarkable expressions of dissatisfaction _wrung_ from
the placid Lord Raglan on various occasions, and the very free manner
in which the English officers expressed themselves when the 7th
French _leger_ regiment ran away from the Russians at Inkerman for
the second time.--_Kinglake's_ "_Invasion of the Crimea_," 6th
edition, 1877, vol. vi. pp. 327-8, 344-5.
[153] Louis was fond of these theatrical announcements, which answered
the purpose he designed, of attracting the sympathy of the
impressionable French people. The following is a short summary of the
mode in which Italy was _really_ freed "from the Alps to the
Adriatic":--Lombardy was surrendered to Sardinia 11th July, 1859; the
treaty ceding Savoy and Nice to France was signed 24th March, and
approved by the Sardinian Parliament 29th May, 1860. The French
troops retired from Italy the same month. Garibaldi landed at Marsala
11th May, 1860, and entered Naples on the 18th of August. The kingdom
of Italy was recognised by Great Britain 31st March, 1861. In 1864
Florence was declared the capital of Italy. The French troops left
Rome in November, 1865. Venetia was ceded to France by Austria 3rd
July, 1866. They retired from the Quadrilateral in October, 1866;
Venice was annexed to Italy the same month; the Italian troops
entered Rome in September, 1870, when Napoleon III. was no longer
able to interpose, and it was incorporated in the Italian kingdom in
October.
[154] See previous note.
[155] Since the above was written, a weekly paper has been
established, which promises to promote the revival of caricature art.