CANCELLED DESIGNS FOR _PUNCH_ AND _ONCE A WEEK_
[CHARLES KEENE AND FREDERICK SANDYS]
In the present chapter I propose to deal with three masterly drawings
prepared for the publications of Messrs. Bradbury and Evans (the
predecessors of Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew) which were suppressed for
various reasons. Two of them are drawings by Charles Keene done for
_Punch_, which were never even “brought to the block.” The third is by
Frederick Sandys, designed for _Once a Week_, and actually engraved,
but cancelled before publication for reasons which shall appear.
For leave to reproduce the first—one of the rare cartoons (in this
case a double-page one) drawn by Keene for _Punch_—I am indebted
to {128} the generosity of Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew, to whom the
original drawing now belongs. For years it has hung amongst other
well-nigh priceless treasures in the dining hall in Bouverie Street,
Whitefriars, and, until reproduced by me in the _Pall Mall Magazine_
in 1899, was only known to the privileged few whose good fortune
it has been to penetrate into that Temple of the Comic Muse. It is
therefore with the greater satisfaction that it is here reproduced
for the delight of that surely increasing public which recognises in
Charles Keene the greatest master of pen-and-ink drawing that England
has produced. But this is not the place to linger over the qualities of
artists. At the same time we cannot but congratulate ourselves that, by
good fortune, our chosen subject brings us into contact not only with
work to which adventitious interest attaches, but also with artistic
work evidencing a technical mastery hard indeed to surpass.
[Illustration: The Cancelled Cartoon. (_By Charles Keene_)]
The only public mention before the year 1899 made of this splendid
pen-and-ink drawing is to be found on page 60 of Mr. Spielmann’s
monumental work, _The History of Punch_. There, in his most {129}
interesting description of _The “Punch” Dining Hall_, it is
described as “a masterly drawing, 2 feet long, by Keene, bought by the
late Mr. Bradbury at a sale—the (unused) cartoon of Disraeli leading
the principal financiers of the day in hats and frock-coats across the
Red Sea. (‘Come along, it’s getting shallower!’)”
Now, since this was written, further inquiries have been made upon the
subject, and two theories present themselves for consideration. The
first of them in its general outline supports Mr. Spielmann’s account,
and maintains that the picture was bought direct from Keene himself
by the late Mr. Agnew (not Mr. Bradbury), as a _solatium_ on account
of its not being used, and that the reason for suppressing it was the
anti-Jewish feeling by which it was inspired.
In support of this view it should be remembered that Keene all along
refused to accept a fixed salary for his _Punch_ work, and was always
paid by the piece. Considering, too, that the subject of the weekly
cartoons was (and still is) a matter of general discussion at the
Wednesday _Punch_ dinners, it is not unreasonable to suppose that the
{130} subject was embarked upon with the authority of the editor, and
that other counsels only prevailed after the drawing had reached the
stage at which it now appears.[24] This being so, it seems not unlikely
that a generous employer would feel himself in some degree answerable
for the futile labour to which the artist had been put, and would offer
to buy the picture as it stood rather than that the artist should in
any way be prejudiced. If this were the case (which does not sound
improbable) it throws an interesting and edifying side-light upon the
relations existing between the artists and publishers of our great
comic paper.
[24] Of course Sir John Tenniel was cartoonist in chief, but sometimes
the cartoon was duplicated, and on very rare occasions Sir John took a
holiday.
Against this theory, however, I have the opinion of Sir John Tenniel
and Mr. Linley Sambourne that the drawing was done on Keene’s own
initiative by way of frontispiece to one of the _Punch_ pocket-books.
But this view of the matter I am, with submission, not myself inclined
to accept, and for two reasons. First and foremost, the drawing differs
in shape from the pocket-book folding frontispieces; and secondly, it
was the {131} practice in these yearly productions rather to satirise
some social folly or fashion of the period than to deal with matters
political or international. In addition to which it does tally in shape
with the double-page cartoons of _Punch_ itself, and, as a matter of
fact, Keene’s few cartoons were mostly done during the years 1875,
1876, and 1877, when the matter of the Suez Canal was making a new
departure in politics—a fact which, as will appear, has some bearing
upon the matter before us.
So much for the circumstances connected with the production and
proposed destination of the picture. Let us now consider its subject
and the probable reason of its suppression.
And, if we take down our volume of collected _Punch_ cartoons and
turn to those dealing with Disraeli, we shall be disinclined to think
that it was out of any consideration for “Benjamin Bombastes” himself
that this splendid drawing was withheld from publication. But thinly
disguised contempt is the attitude almost invariably maintained
towards him, whilst but thinly disguised personal admiration for
his great rival discounts even the bitterest political taunts {132}
flung at that devoted head. No! I am inclined to think that events
at this time, to which this cartoon referred, were wringing unwilling
approbation even from “The Asiatic Mystery’s” most bitter enemies,
and that Bouverie Street could not but acknowledge that here at least
“Ben-Dizzy” deserved well of his country. For surely the cartoon
has reference to nothing less than that crowning act of wisdom, the
purchase of nearly half the shares in the Suez Canal for four millions
sterling. Here we have Disraeli with his umbrella pointing the way,
not across the Red Sea as Mr. Spielmann imagines, but up the Canal
_towards_ the Red Sea. He calls out, “Don’t be afraid! it’s getting
shallower,” thus possibly referring to the original notion (afterwards
disproved) that the level of the Mediterranean was 30 feet below that
of the Red Sea. On the right-hand, and Egyptian, side of the water, if
we look carefully, we discover the shadowy outline of the Sphinx and
the Pyramids, which latter rise dimly to the margin of the drawing. On
the bank indistinct forms of the Liberal “Opposition” wave their arms,
hurl stones and shout “Yah” at the {133} wading financiers. Such was
the hardly congratulatory attitude assumed towards this masterly move
by Charles Keene.
But when we turn to the cartoons dealing with this subject by Sir
John Tenniel,[25] which _did_ appear, what do we find? The first is
“Mosé in Egitto”!!! published on December 11, 1875, to which, in the
collected cartoons, the following note is appended:—“Mr. Disraeli
extorted the admiration of the country by purchasing for £4,000,000,
on behalf of the Government, the shares in the Suez Canal held by the
Khedive of Egypt.” The second is entitled “The Lion’s Share—_Gare
à qui la touche_,” on February 26, 1896, to which the note appended
runs: “The acquisition of the Suez Canal shares was accepted by the
country as securing the safety of ‘The Key to India.’” These, as will
be seen, frankly recognise the wisdom of the purchase. Hence it is not
surprising if the feeling against the suggestion contained in Keene’s
cartoon—that the financiers of the day were being put into a {134}
ridiculous position by the Conservative Leader—was strong enough to
result in its rejection. Its inclusion would have gone far to stultify
the effect of the congratulatory attitude taken up by _Punch’s_
chartered cartoonist. At any rate, this view of the case appears to be
most reasonable, and I give it for what it is worth.
[25] It may be mentioned as an interesting fact that no engraved
cartoon after Sir John Tenniel has ever failed to find its place in the
number for which it was designed.
The drawing is a fine example of Keene’s power of endowing his models
with the qualities requisite to his design. Not a man of these
seventeen financiers suggests a model posing, and yet all, for this was
Keene’s invariable custom, were drawn from the life. Not one of them
but is balanced as though he were wading in water up to his knees; and
yet not one of them, we may be sure, was wading against a stream when,
probably unconsciously, he was forced into the service of the artist’s
pencil. The pose of one and all is as inevitable as is the expression
on the face of each. I would ask all my readers who are seekers after
consummate draughtsmanship to give more particular attention to this
beautiful drawing than its mere subject would demand, remembering that
Keene’s achievements in black-and-white are {135} unsurpassed, and, I
am inclined to think, unsurpassable.
We will now turn to the consideration of the other suppressed Keene
drawing. This, we shall find, owed its rejection not to political but
to social considerations. And it is of peculiar interest, not only as
showing the scrupulous care taken by the then editor of _Punch_ to
avoid the risk of offending the susceptibilities of his readers, but
also as an example of the extensive collaboration which existed between
Keene and the late Mr. Joseph Crawhall in the supply of “socials” to
that paper week by week.
Let us pause for a moment, then, to recall the particulars of this
remarkable co-operation. Early in the ’seventies, Keene, who was often
gravelled for humorous subjects on which to exercise his pencil,
was by good fortune introduced to the author of _Border Notes and
Mixty-Maxty_, and many other droll books of a like character. This
gentleman, always a lover of things quaint, grotesque and jocular,
had been for years in the habit of jotting down any telling incident
that came in his way, illustrating it at leisure for his {136} own
amusement. He was no great artist; but, like Thackeray, his inadequate
pencil was so compelled and inspired by the appreciation of his
subjects that he was able to set them down pictorially in a manner so
naïve and at the same time so intelligent that they are a joy to the
beholder. These suggestive drawings, by the time the introduction had
taken place, filled several volumes.
Keene’s delight, then, may be well imagined when he was given _carte
blanche_ to cull the best of the subjects for use in _Punch_. He
wrote:—
“I can’t tell you how strongly I have felt your rare generosity and
unselfishness in letting me browse so freely in your pastures.”
And again:—
“Many thanks for the loan of the sketch-books. I enjoyed them again
and again, with renewed chucklings; but what a mouth-watering larder
to lay open to a ravenous joke-seeker!”
[Illustration: The Cancelled “Social.” (_By Charles Keene_)]
[Illustration: Suggestion by Joseph Crawhall for the Cancelled “Social”]
Fortunately Mr. Crawhall was as delighted to be of service to the great
artist as Keene was to avail himself of his opportunity. Hence we have
that delightful partnership of which full particulars {137} may be
found in my _Life and Letters of Charles Keene of_ “_Punch_.”
It is necessary to say so much for the purpose of introducing the
subject of the second of Keene’s cancelled drawings. By a great piece
of good fortune I have in my possession Mr. Crawhall’s pictorial
suggestion for the rejected picture itself, presented to me by the
artist. I reproduce it here alongside Keene’s drawing for the purpose
of comparison. The humour of it is certainly rather brutal, and one is
not surprised to find that the editor considered that it would “jar
upon feelings.” Keene, on the other hand, was naturally disgusted
at his labour being thrown away, and vented his wrath somewhat
unreasonably upon the “Philistine editor.”
For the sake of those who would like to gain some idea of the
personality of the artist’s friend who acted, as Boswell did to
Johnson, in the capacity of a “starter of mawkins,” it may be mentioned
that an excellent back view of Mr. Crawhall, drawn by Keene, appears in
_Punch_, March 11, 1882, over the following delicious “legend”:— {138}
_LAPSUS LINGUÆ_
PATER: “Now, look here, my boy, I can’t have these late hours. When I
was your age my father wouldn’t let me stay out after dark.”
FILIUS: “Humph! nice sort o’ father you must have had, I should say.”
PATER (_waxing_): “Deuced sight better than you have, you young——”
(_Checks himself, and exit._)
The original of the _Punch_ drawing here reproduced was presented to
Mr. Crawhall by Charles Keene. This was the latter’s method of repaying
the former for his unqualified generosity. Mr. Crawhall was, however,
somewhat embarrassed by what he considered to be excessive payment for
services which he held required no other recompense than the honour
thus conferred on his poor drawings. The result was a generous contest
which resulted in his finally refusing to accept them, “For,” said he,
“you don’t know the value of your work. The reward is too great, and
our happy connection must cease if you put me under these obligations.”
Keene, nevertheless, always afterwards made a colourable excuse to
send them when he could think of one, although by this time he was
well {139} aware that he was as great a magician as the Old Lady
of Threadneedle Street, and could by a few strokes of his pen make
the back of an old envelope rival the value of one of _her_ crisp
bank-notes.
But we must not linger over the cancelled drawings of an artist who,
had he been as great in imagination as he was in originality of method
and mastery over his pencil, would have been as great as the greatest
in Art. It is now our delightful task to turn to another of the men
of the ’sixties, whose imagination and sympathy with high romance has
rarely been surpassed, and whose technical mastery, though not the
equal of his great contemporary, was yet so distinguished that, even
divorced from his other qualities, it would give him a niche in the
Temple of Fame. Frederick Sandys has but lately left us, and how few
there are who recognise the greatness of his work! For years it has
been a matter of astonishment to me that his name was not on every
tongue. Keene, alive, was practically unknown. Keene, dead, occupies
an unassailable position. Sandys is known and esteemed only by {140}
the few. The time will come when his pictures will be a fashionable
craze, and every woodcut after him, whether it be in _Once a Week_,
_The Cornhill_, _Good Words_, _London Society_, _The Churchman’s Family
Magazine_, _The Shilling Magazine_, _The Quiver_, _The Argosy_, or
what not, will be eagerly appropriated by those who wish to pass as
discerning dilettanti.
But we must not generalise, for our concern is here with one particular
design, and enthusiasm must not be allowed to run. Done for _Once a
Week_, and cut exquisitely on the wood by Swain, that with which we
have to do was at the last moment cancelled by a timidly fastidious
editor.
If we turn to page 672 of vol. iv. of _Once a Week_ (new series), 1867,
we shall find the following set of verses, signed “W.,” the origin and
authorship of which I am now able to make public:—
DANAË
The hour of noonday sleep was o’er,
And Danaë dreamt her dream no more;
Yet still its image lingered on her loom;
For there in woven colours bright,
And touched to life by purpling light,
Smiled the one godhead of the captive’s room. {141}
She raised her from the Tyrian sheet,
And clasped her sandals on her feet,
And lightly drew around her virgin zone;
And sighed—and knew not why she sighed;
And murmured, while her work she plied,
“The World may leave my love and me alone.”
Thus sang the maiden of the brazen tower,
And longed, unconscious, for the golden shower.
“The days and months have grown to years,
And I have dried my childish tears,
And half forgotten why they ever ran;
My soul is plighted to the sky,
And we,—my wrinkled nurse and I,—
What matter if we see no more of man?
She wearies me with omens dire,
My son foredoomed to kill my sire,—
But sire and son are empty names to me.
My love! I only rest awhile,
To dream the beauty of thy smile.
And only wake again to picture thee.”
Thus sang the maiden of the brazen tower,
And longed, unconscious, for the golden shower.
She ceased: for now began to fade
The figure of that mighty shade,
With loins and shoulders meet to sway the world;
And awful through the gloom appeared
His massive locks of hair and beard,
Like clouds in lurid light of thunder curled.
Yet, long as twilight glimmered there,
She gazed upon a vision fair;
His brow more beautiful than Parian stone,
And nestling nearer like a dove,
Soft on his lips she breathed her love, {142}
And lit his eyes with lustre of her own.
Then passion stung the maiden of the tower,
And fast she panted for the golden shower.
She stood, with white arm fixed in air,
And head thrown back, and streaming hair,
“Oh, Lord of Dreams!” she cried, “dost thou behold?”
Then thunderous music shook the cell,
And, sliding through the rafters, fell
On Danaë’s burning breast, three drops of gold.
Her bosom thrilled—but not with pain:—
Faster and brighter flowed the rain,
And starred with light the chamber of the bride:
Her cheek sank blushing on her hand,
Her eyelids drooped, her silken band
Unloosed itself,—and Jove was at her side.
Black loured the earth around the captive’s tower,
But Heaven embraced her in the golden shower.
I insert the poem here, as it constitutes the only trace in the pages
of _Once a Week_ of the matter with which we have to deal.
Before proceeding to detail the circumstances connected with the
production and final suppression of the engraving, which prompted this
passable set of verses, I shall endeavour to correct certain statements
regarding it which have gained currency. In the _Artist_ monograph
on “The Art of Frederick Sandys,” in 1896, we find a few lines only
given to the consideration of the {144} wood-engraving of “Danaë in
the Brazen Chamber”; but in these few lines we have one undoubtedly
incorrect statement, and another which is open to the gravest
suspicion. The first is that the “Danaë” was engraved for _The Hobby
Horse_ in 1888; the second that it was drawn for _Once a Week_ in 1860.
[Illustration: Danaë in the Brazen Chamber]
As regards its engraving, this was done by Swain for _Once a Week_,
when the drawing was sent in. That it was first _published_ in _The
Hobby Horse_ as an illustration to an article by the late J. M. Gray
is another matter altogether. As regards the date of its design, 1860
is almost certainly some years too early. Indeed, I had it from Sandys
himself that the probable date of the _first sketch_ of the subject
was as late as 1865, and that it was not till after he had traced it
on a panel[26] (the figure some two feet high) for a never-completed
oil-painting, and later had made a chalk-drawing of it for a Yorkshire
gentleman, that he decided to make a drawing on the wood at all. This
being done, its beauty prompted two poems by two of his personal
friends, the one {145} given above by Mr. Ward, the other, so far as I
can gather never published, by Colonel Alfred Richards. Now, the fact
that Mr. Ward’s poem did not appear in _Once a Week_ till 1867 lends
such overwhelming weight to Mr. Sandys’s recollection of the matter
that we may, I think, unhesitatingly reject the date of 1860 given by
the author of the _Artist_ monograph and adopt a date at least five
years later. Further evidence, too, is to be found in the fact that Mr.
Sandys continued to draw on the wood certainly as late as 1866, and his
recollection is clear as to “Danaë” being his last essay in that medium.
[26] This is now, I believe, in the possession of Mr. Ashby-Sterry.
I have been thus particular to correct this matter because it will,
I believe, prove of importance, when Sandys’s artistic career comes
finally to be described, to get his different productions into
chronological order for a proper understanding of his artistic
development.
So far, then, we have arrived, at any rate approximately, at the
date when Sandys did what proved to be not only his one “suppressed”
drawing, but, as I have said, the very last drawing done by him on the
wood. {146}
Let us now consider the circumstances under which it was produced for,
but in the event suppressed by, the editor of _Once a Week_. And that
this periodical is the poorer for its loss will be obvious to all who
love beautiful drawing, “splendid paganism,” and fine wood-engraving.
Sandys began to draw for _Once a Week_ in 1861, his initial effort
being that splendid design, “Yet once more on the Organ play,” which
is fit to rank with Rethel’s “Der Tod als Freund,” with which there
is a certain similarity of sentiment. This was followed by eleven
drawings within the five succeeding years, all breathing the spirit of
Dürer, and carrying on the effort which Rethel, who had only died in
1859, had made to renew the life put into wood-engraving by the old
German master. In either 1865 or 1866 Sandys projected an oil picture
on the subject of “Danaë in the Brazen Chamber.” He had conceived a
new version of the Danaë legend. Instead of Jove appearing to the
imprisoned maiden in the form of a golden shower, he adopted the belief
in Jove as the God of Dreams and adapted it to the legend.[27] Danaë,
{147} who has never seen a man, is haunted by the appearance of Jove
as he has presented himself in her sleeping hours. To comfort herself
and satisfy her passionate longing she has spent her days in weaving
the image so vouchsafed to her in tapestry. For the moment her work is
discarded. The ball of wool with which she has been working lies at her
feet, and she stands, “with white arm fixed in air,” calling upon the
“Lord of Dreams” to come to her in very sooth.
[27] καὶ γὰρ τ’ ὄναρ ἐκ Διός ἐστιν.—Homer, _Iliad_ i. 63.
Frankly sensuous as is the picture, one cannot but admit that the
theme is treated with all necessary restraint. This, however, does not
appear to have been the opinion of Walford, the then editor of _Once a
Week_. He wrote to Sandys requiring a modification of the design. This
the artist flatly refused. The design must appear as it was or not at
all. In this refusal he was gallantly supported by the proprietors of
the periodical, Messrs. Bradbury and Evans. The editor, however, would
not give way, and the result was a deadlock. The block was actually
engraved by Mr. Swain, and in his best manner, but the editor’s will
was paramount, and it never {148} adorned the pages for which it was
intended. It was reserved to the _Century Guild Hobby Horse_, in 1888,
to rescue it from the oblivion into which it had passed.
I am indebted to Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew for permission to reproduce
the design. Of it Mr. J. M. Gray says in his article on “Frederick
Sandys and the Woodcut Designers of Thirty Years Ago”:—“It ranks among
the very finest of Sandys’s woodcuts,” and the artist, who had not been
uniformly satisfied with the engraved versions of his work, himself
wrote to me: “It was engraved for _Once a Week_. Perfectly cut by
Swain. From my point of view the best piece of woodcutting of our time.”
And all who love this beautiful but fast disappearing handmaiden of the
arts will heartily endorse Mr. Sandys’s opinion.
{149}