THE SOCIAL FABRIC
CROWN AND COURT
It was in keeping with the "Orientalism" which coloured Disraeli's
conception of Empire that his return to power in 1874 should be marked
by a strengthening of the ceremonial ties linking the throne with our
great Eastern Dependency. In 1875 the Prince of Wales visited India; in
1876 the Queen assumed the title of Empress of India. _Punch_ showed no
lack of good will in speeding the Prince on his journey, while frankly
criticizing the incidence of the cost. The grant of money for his
expenses was opposed in the House in January, and _Punch_ admitted that
the opposition was not altogether captious:--
Everybody but Mr. Disraeli and Mr. Gladstone seems to think the
Government has done the thing shabbily. To be sure, the Government
ought to know best.
_Punch_, with Mr. Fawcett, would have preferred that England should
have paid every penny of the bill. India has certainly _not_ invited
the Prince, and is as little in a position to invite him as she is
to decline his visit: is certainly _not_ as well able to afford
the expense of entertaining him as Canada was. As to the feeling
of the Working-men (_Punch_ is a representative Working-man, and
knows), nineteen-twentieths of them--as Mr. Burt, with characteristic
straightforwardness admitted--neither think nor care a ha'penny about
the matter: the other twentieth, including the blatant gentlemen who
get up nasty noisy little mobs in Trafalgar Square, and who claim
to speak for the Working-men, because they speak, peculiarly, for
themselves, oppose the visit and the grant for it--as they oppose
everything suggested by their betters, and, in particular, all grants
to members of the Royal Family. They have found just enough voice
in Parliament to show how thoroughly they stand opposed to general
opinion.
The Prince's return was welcomed with a disclaimer of all venal
courtiership:--
'Tis no mere flourish of paid pen, no phrase of courtier's tongue
Proclaims us loyal to our line of law-abiding Kings;
'Tis for a son in more than name that England's heart is strung
To this high note of welcome that through the welkin rings.
* * * * *
He is kindly, gay and gracious--he is manly, bold and brave;
He bore him manly, princely, as an English prince should do;
He took the rubs and roughings of travel like a man,
And, if he won new friends in crowds, to the old friends still was
true.
It was once said of an old Tory that, although generally intelligent,
whenever he began to talk of the Royal Family or the nobility, his jaw
dropped, and he became quite inarticulate. _Punch's_ jaw certainly did
not drop over the Queen's new title, for which he had no welcome. He
thought it a piece of Oriental Disraelian clap-trap, gave a sarcastic
account of the Proclamation at Delhi, and published cartoons in which
Disraeli figured as repainting the sign of the old Queen's Head, and
as a magician with new crowns for old. _Punch's_ antipathy to the new
style also found vent in a "Hymn to Victoria" after Ben Jonson:--
Queen or Empress, Lady fair,
Sovran of the swelling deep,
Who, in distant Orient air,
Dost the sway of nations keep,
Must we, changing style with scene,
Hail an Empress in our Queen?
Where the tiger haunts the glade,
Where the mystic Ganges flows,
Where we English, unafraid,
Govern friends who once were foes,
There thy power is felt, unseen,
There men bow to England's Queen.
Lay the imperial style apart;
Leave it to the lords of legions:
Queen in every English heart,
Be thou Queen in Eastern regions.
Keep thy style and state serene--
Who so great as India's Queen?
[Illustration: "THE QUEEN WITH TWO HEADS"
MR. BULL: "No, no, Benjamin, it will never do! You can't
improve on the old 'Queen's Head'!"]
Another set of verses printed a month or so later go so far as to
call "Emperor" a "name accursed." The old title was good enough for
_Punch_:--
Still "King" or "Queen," from earliest days,
To British understanding
A sense of rank supreme conveys
That brooks no rash expanding.
Symbol august of royal state
With Freedom's spirit blended;
Can title so securely great
Be altered or amended?
The Queen's visit to Lord Beaconsfield at Hughenden in December, 1877,
is treated in a spirit of genial irony with an undercurrent of distrust
in the Premier's flamboyant imagination. _Punch_ wonders what the
tree was that the Queen planted: possibly "of some Asian order from a
Hebrew root." In the accompanying picture it is labelled, "Conditional
Neutrality," and Gladstone is shown looking on, with his axe, as though
he would like to cut it down. Opposition to the Royal grants was again
vocal in 1878 in connexion with the Duke of Connaught's marriage, when
Sir Charles Dilke's motion was defeated by 320 to 33 votes. Dilke's
view was that there was no instance of the Crown holding out for a
marriage portion--except in the case of marriages in a manner forced
to raise Royal issue--before the present reign. The Government and the
Opposition, backed by Gladstone, contended that the precedents did not
apply. _Punch_ advocated an overhauling of the existing arrangements
as soon as they ran out. In the memorial stanzas on Princess Alice,
the Grand Duchess of Hesse Darmstadt, _Punch_ abstains from prophecy,
a fortunate abstention in view of the tragic future in store for her
daughters; and pays a well merited tribute to a good woman, above
reproach whether as daughter, wife, mother and sovereign. He applauds
the Duke of Albany for a speech in 1879 warning the British working man
not to be outstripped by foreign competitors in industry, intelligence
and taste, and welcomes the Prince as following in the steps of
his father. The Duke of Connaught's marriage in the same year is
celebrated in verse, _Punch_ declaring that he can't _gush_, but feels
glad; a sentiment tempered by an ironical description of the Royalties
and nobilities present at the wedding and of their cheap and homely
presents.
[Sidenote: _Loyalty with Reserves_]
There is a kindly reference in the same year to the death of the Prince
of Abyssinia (son of King Theodore), who was taken prisoner at Magdala
in 1868, and buried at Windsor by the Queen's desire. In his Elegy on
"poor Rasselas," _Punch_ speaks of the "kind Queen's mother heart." Yet
the continued seclusion of the "Royal Recluse" does not escape notice,
and the Birthday verses to the Princess of Wales show that it proved a
strain on _Punch's_ loyalty:--
'Tis not that _Punch_--as leal as wise--
Loves less his Queen by closer ties,
Though she but rarely glads his eyes
From Deeside and from Wight.
"The absent still are in the wrong!"
So runs a French saw current long;
But _Punch's_ loyalty is strong,
Be who will wrong or right.
The artistic efforts of Royalties are commended in 1881, when Princess
Louise and the German Crown Princess exhibited canvases at the Society
of Painters in Water Colours. _Punch_, in his earlier days, had seldom
a good word to say for the Royal patronage of the arts, and in the
same year he indulged in an audacious description of the depressing
conditions under which they were studied in Royal Palaces, and of
the boredom resulting from perpetual attendance on the Queen in her
self-imposed seclusion:--
FROM A COURT JOURNAL
(_Not published every Saturday_)
1st. Back from Balmoral. What a relief! So pleasant to be near
something civilized again. Dear L---- called early, and wanted me so
much to make a pleasant day of it. It would have been so nice. Private
view of some lovely frescoes to begin with. Then a quiet little
luncheon together, and, after that, to Lady ----'s delightful place,
to have some lawn-tennis, perhaps a little boating, and then finish
with a drive back to town in the cool of the evening. Of course, I
couldn't be spared. So, rest of diurnal programme as usual. Walked
with Mamma. Had luncheon with Mamma. Drove with Mamma. Dined with
Mamma. On the whole, rather a monotonous day.
2nd to 9th inclusive. Nothing particular. Walked daily with Mamma.
Had luncheon daily with Mamma. Drove daily with Mamma. Dined daily
with Mamma. So, the fifteen pressing invitations for various things
this week had, of course, to be declined. Never mind: I got on with
my etchings; but the next book I illustrate shall be called "The
New Cinderella." Dear me! if I could only get somebody to write
it, couldn't I make a capital picture of the young maid's delight
at finding her wretched State-coach changed suddenly into a lovely
pumpkin!
10th. A very eventful day. Some Indian potentate, with a peculiar
turban, was made, by Mamma, an honorary Member of Knights of the
Third Class of the Order of St. Michael and St. George. I attended.
As usual, it was all over in three minutes. I wonder whether he could
have taken a walk with Mamma, stayed to luncheon with Mamma, had a
drive with Mamma, and have dined with Mamma, if Mamma had thought of
ordering him! But there was no opportunity. The gentleman, too, who
brought him, seemed so very anxious to get him back to Claridge's
Hotel as quickly as possible. Perhaps he feared the honour might
be too much for the Asiatic mind. _N'importe!_ Ah! happy Indian
potentate, breathing the free air of Claridge's Hotel!
11th to 18th. More walking with Mamma, taking luncheon with Mamma,
driving with Mamma, and dining with Mamma. Some Germans to dinner once
or twice. I shall learn Chinese. And that reminds me. I wonder whether
Aladdin's Princess, with her tiny little feet, managed, after all, to
get better about Pekin than I can about London.
19th. Osborne. Dear A---- came with the children and pressed for me to
be allowed to join them on the yacht, and see the regatta, and have a
real sail, and spend a quite too lovely day! No use; so she went back,
and I took a walk as usual with Mamma, had luncheon as usual with
Mamma, and dined as usual with Mamma. Everything very much as usual.
Stay, though; I am forgetting. I must add a two hours' steam up and
down on the _Alberta_, a mile and a half away from everything, which
the _Court Journal_ will no doubt describe as "witnessing the regatta"
with Mamma!
20th to 27th. The usual Osborne routine. Of course, I am perfectly
happy doing nothing else but walking, taking luncheon, driving and
dining continually with Mamma; though I should like to be able to
get away a little now and then. In one of our drives round the island
we passed several groups of happy girls enjoying themselves, in the
society of their relatives and friends, in various healthful and
innocent ways (with the permission of their Mammas). Yes, I must take
in hand "The New Cinderella"!
28th and 29th. Off again to Balmoral, without waiting for the State
ball on the 30th. Journey full of novelty.
30th. Once more in the bonnie Highlands! Attend the Servants' Ball,
and wonder why, while they may enjoy a dance, I mayn't. Wonder how
the State Ball is going on. Go to rest wondering, and finally dream
that I am walking, taking luncheon, driving, dining and making immense
progress in Chinese, simultaneously, with Mamma till further notice!
[Sidenote: _The Empress of Austria's Visits_]
In this context it should be noted that _Princess Beatrice's Birthday
Book_, illustrated by Walter Crane, Caldecott and Kate Greenaway, is
commended by _Punch_ at the close of the year.
The Kaiser's marriage forms the theme of some jocular and negligible
lines: too little then was known of his character and temperament to
expect any illuminating comment on the event. But a good deal of space
is devoted to the Empress of Austria's hunting visits to Ireland and
England--a vivid contrast to the dreary experiences chronicled in the
_Court Journal_ quoted above. Hunting in Meath had been boycotted
in the winter of 1881, and the Empress returned to her quarters at
Combermere Abbey in Cheshire. _Punch_ appeals to the Irish to wipe out
the stain and revert to the chivalry of the Irish Brigade, while he
welcomed the Empress to England.
In the following year the attempt on the Queen's life by a lunatic, and
the intervention of the Eton boy who punched the lunatic's head, are
duly chronicled. In one of the worst of his ceremonial cartoons _Punch_
is seen on bended knee presenting a letter of congratulation from
her loving People to the Queen and Princess Beatrice. Even the great
Tenniel could not always give dignified expression to a genuine and
general sentiment. No criticism, however, can be offered on _Punch's_
approval of the Queen's courage in appearing in public, shortly after
this incident, to open Epping Forest. The verses on the marriage of the
Duke of Albany in 1882 alluded to him as "the latest, youngest, not
least wise" of Royal Princes, and the worthy inheritor of the Prince
Consort's studious tastes. The accompanying cartoon shows the Duke with
the Duchess behind him on a pillion, riding to Claremont. In the autumn
of the same year his delicate health aroused public uneasiness, and
_Punch_ contrasts the formidable technical account of his symptoms in
the _Lancet_ with the reassuring statements of the _Morning Post_.
On the relations of Royalty to sport, _Punch_ had always been extremely
sensitive. The bitterest things he ever said of the Prince Consort were
directed against his stag-shooting exploits and pheasant battues in
the 'forties. Much in the same spirit is the vehement protest which he
uttered early in 1878 against the cruelty to an eagle which was trapped
at Windsor after Prince Christian and several keepers had vainly
tried to shoot it. The wretched eagle, according to _The Times_, tore
itself out of the trap, leaving one of its toes behind, and _Punch_
is indignantly sarcastic at this treatment of the royal bird. He was
mildly satirical in 1876 when the Balmoral Curling Club was broken up
owing to the tendency of the game "to encourage a love for whisky."
On the other hand, and unlike other critics, he was always ready to
acknowledge when Royalties acted on the maxim _noblesse oblige_.
The Princess of Wales's efforts to get pigeon shooting abolished at
Hurlingham in 1883 prompted the picture of the Triumph of Sir Pigeon
in the Lists with the Princess as Queen of Beauty in the Tournament of
Doves. Unluckily _Punch's_ jubilation was premature. Mr. Anderson's
Bill, supported by W. E. Forster, and opposed by Sir Walter Barttelot,
was "turned down" by the House, to the disgust of _Punch_, who asked
why could not the Home Secretary, Sir William Harcourt, follow the
example of Holland and forbid pigeon shooting. Still, two minor
victories are scored to the credit of the Princess of Wales this year.
"She has banished the crinolette, in spite of Paris. She has retained
the small bonnet, still in spite of Paris," and _Punch_ chronicles the
triumph in pleasantly whimsical rhymes.
[Sidenote: _John Brown_]
The critic re-emerges in a long and sarcastic account of the public
sale by auction of portraits and furniture--down to kitchen
chairs--belonging to the Duke and Duchess of Teck, which _Punch_
considered as undignified and improper, though he found the catalogue
a feeding-ground for laughter and a stimulant to satire. In the same
year the Queen's trusted attendant, John Brown, died. It is hard for
the present generation to realize the mixed feelings which the Queen's
reliance on this royal factotum excited in the minds of the public
at a time when the popularity of the Court was impaired by her long
seclusion. His very name is now forgotten, though in the 'seventies and
early 'eighties it was on every lip--often as an incentive to slighting
or indecorous comment. _Punch's_ tribute is somewhat ponderous in
style, but he makes a good point in distinguishing this faithful if
somewhat angular Scotsman from the minions and freaks of other Courts:--
Service of Kings not always in earth's story
Has been a badge of honour: gilded glory
Of silken favourite dulls down to dust;
Devotion self-respecting, sober, just,
Lifts lowliest tendance to ennobling state.
A good Queen's faithful follower! His the fate
To wear the honours of the antique school,
Right Service, nobler than unrighteous rule.
_Punch's_ alternations of loyalty and exceedingly frank criticism of
Royalty during this period are, it must be admitted, abrupt and even
bewildering. In the following extracts from _The Speaker; a Handbook to
ready-made Oratory_, we find him in his most unbridled and unmuzzled
mood:--