CHAPTER VII.

CARTOONS--CARTOONISTS AND THEIR WORK.

The Cartoon takes Shape--"The Parish Councils

Cockatoo"--Cartoonists and their Relative Achievements--John

Leech's First--Rapidity in Design "General Février turned

Traitor"--"The United Service"--Sir John Tenniel's Animal

Types--"The British Lion Smells a Rat"--The Indian Mutiny--A

Cartoon of Vengeance--_Punch_ and Cousin Jonathan--"Ave

Cæsar!"--The Franco-Prussian War--The Russo-Turkish War--"The

Political 'Mrs. Gummidge'"--"Dropping the Pilot," its Origin and

Present Ownership--"Forlorn Hope"--"The Old Crusaders"--Troubles of

the Cartoonist--The Obituary Cartoon.

In describing the _Punch_ Dinner I show how the merry meeting lapses, by

a natural transition, from pleasure to work, and ends with the evolution

of the cartoon; how the mist of talk, vague perhaps and undecided at

first, slowly develops a bright nebulous point, round which the

discussion revolves and revolves, until at last it takes form, slowly

and carefully, though changed a dozen times, and finally, after being

threshed and threshed again, stands in the ultimate form in which next

week it meets the public eye.

For when the meal is done, and cigars and pipes are duly lighted,

subjects are deliberately proposed in half-a-dozen quarters, until quite

a number may be before the Staff. They are fought all round the Table,

and, unless obviously and strikingly good, are probably rejected or

attacked with the good-humoured ridicule and withering scorn distinctive

of true friendship and cordial intimacy. Then is each fully and formally

debated, every tussle advancing it a stage, and none finally accepted

until all the others have fallen in the battledore-and-shuttlecock

process to which they have been subjected. Then, when the subject is

settled, comes the consideration of the details--what should the

grouping be? what the accessories? how many figures?--(during the

hunting season John Leech would decline to introduce more than two, as

his week-end would otherwise be spoiled)--and other minor yet still

important considerations; and then each man's opinion has its proper

weight in the Council of _Punch_. In this year of grace Mr. Lucy is

listened to with the respect due to his extraordinary Parliamentary

knowledge; Mr. Milliken is the chief literary authority since "the

Professor" (Percival Leigh) went to his rest; and so each man is counted

upon for the special or expert knowledge he may bring to bear on the

particular subject then before the meeting.

And when the subject of the cartoon is a political one, the debate grows

hot and the fun more furious, and it usually ends by Tories and Radicals

accepting a compromise--for the parties are pretty evenly balanced at

the Table; while Mr. Burnand assails both sides with perfect

indifference. At last, when the intellectual tug-of-war, lasting usually

from half-past eight for just an hour and three-quarters by the clock,

is brought to a conclusion, the cartoon in all its details is discussed

and determined; and then comes the fight over the title and the

"cackle," amid all the good-natured chaff and banter of a pack of

boisterous, high-spirited schoolboys.

More than once it has happened that notwithstanding a subject being well

on the way to becoming a cartoon--the raw material of an idea having

been almost hammered into a presentable political missile or social

criticism by the heads of the company--a side remark may arrest further

labour, and turn attention in an entirely different direction. Such was

the case with one of the most successful cartoons of recent years. The

topic of the week was the Parish Councils Bill, which was then before

the Lords, and was receiving severe handling in that House. In the

course of discussion came an "aside" from Mr. Arthur à Beckett, to the

effect that "Gladstone is having a deuce of a time." "Like the

cockatoo," assented Mr. Lehmann, referring to the story of the unhappy

bird which was left for a short while alone with a monkey, and which,

when the owner returned to the room and found his bird clean plucked of

its feathers by the monkey--all but a single plume in the tail--looked

up dejectedly, and croaked in tones of almost voiceless horror, "I've

been having a doose of a time!" The remarks were caught at by Mr.

Burnand as a happy thought, and the new idea was tossed like a ball from

one to another until there issued from it the well-known design of the

monkey in its coronet, as the House of Lords, having plucked the

cockatoo-Bill of most of its feather-clauses--a drawing which, under the

title of "The Parish Councils Cockatoo," hit off the situation with

singular felicity, and reaped the reward of the public applause. In a

similar manner there developed Mr. Sambourne's peculiarly happy "Cartoon

Junior," representing Mr. Gladstone, newly retired, looking up from the

perusal of the first speech made by Lord Rosebery on his promotion to

the Premiership--a speech some of the points of which he afterwards had

to withdraw or explain away--with the words, "Pity a Prime Minister

should be so ambiguous!" In the arrangement of these second cartoons,

which, as is elsewhere described, immediately follows the handing of the

written-out subject of the main picture to Sir John Tenniel, a contrast

is always the first thing sought for. If the first deals with foreign

politics, the second must treat of home matters, political or social; if

the "senior" is social, the "junior" will be political; if Sir John is

realistic, Mr. Sambourne is idealistic. And if it is impossible so to

differentiate them, the prominent figures at least which appear in the

one are carefully avoided in the other.

But in the early years of _Punch_ the method was not so democratic. The

matter was discussed, but the preponderance of two or three of the Staff

made their opinions felt to such a degree that when a subject was

proposed by one of them, that subject, when it appeared, was

unmistakably theirs and nobody else's. I have before me the full details

of these matters during a considerable period, and I find that on the

whole Douglas Jerrold was the most prolific of suggestors, while Henry

Mayhew (so long as he remained), Gilbert Abbot à Beckett, Mark Lemon,

and Horace Mayhew, roughly speaking, divided the honours between them.

Thackeray seldom made a suggestion, and it is not very often that the

entry "Leech _solus_" is credited to the great cartoonist before 1848.

During the years 1845, 1846, and 1847, for instance, Leech alone

proposed eleven subjects, Mark Lemon thirty-five, Henry Mayhew twenty,

Horace Mayhew fifteen, Douglas Jerrold sixteen, Thackeray four, Tom

Taylor four, Gilbert à Beckett two, and Percival Leigh two, leaving the

rest to be shared by the united Staff.

The men who have borne the title of _Punch's_ Cartoonist are fifteen in

number. Taking them in the chronological order of their first

contribution, not of drawings, but of cartoons to the paper, they are:

1841, A. S. Henning, W. Newman, Brine, John Leech, and Birket Foster;

1842, A. "Crowquill," Kenny Meadows, H. G. Hine, and H. Heath; 1843, R.

J. Hamerton; 1844, R. Doyle; 1851, John Tenniel; 1852, W. McConnell;

1864, Charles Keene; and 1884 and 1894, Linley Sambourne.[16]

From March 4th, 1843, to September 30th, 1848 (after which, with the

exception of one cartoon in 1849 from Newman, and a few from McConnell

in 1852, John Leech and John Tenniel shared the cartoon-drawing

absolutely between them--no other hand making one at all for

six-and-thirty years), there appeared 314 cartoons in about 286 weeks.

It sometimes happened that _Punch_ appeared without a cartoon at all,

especially in those parlous cashless days of 1842, and again in 1846 and

1848; but, on the other hand, two cartoons were frequently given in the

same number, usually from different hands, though occasionally Leech

would do both. The 314 designs were made up thus:--

J. Leech 223

R. Doyle 53

Kenny Meadows 14

R. J. Hamerton 10

H. G. Hine 8

W. Newman 6

----

314 (exclusive of the Almanacs)

--Hamerton having taken Hine's place, Doyle having superseded Hamerton,

and Meadows, after 1844, having disappeared. Roughly speaking, from the

commencement of _Punch_ to the end of 1894, there have been 2,750

cartoons in all, and these have been contributed approximately thus:

Sir John Tenniel 1,860

John Leech 720

R. Doyle 70

Other Cartoonists 100

----

2,750

--representing an amount of thought and artistic achievement colossal in

the aggregate, and perfectly appalling in the case of Leech and Tenniel.

Does it not speak well for the good sense and good digestion of these

men that in all these hundreds and thousands of skits--satires going by

their very nature into personal motives and perhaps into private

actions--that the lapses and the mistakes have been nearly as rare as

great auks' eggs? Mr. Gladstone had good reason to say, as he did one

day at dinner, that "in his early days, when an artist was engaged to

produce political satires, he nearly always descended to gross personal

caricature, and sometimes to indecency. To-day he noted in the humorous

press (speaking more particularly of _Punch_) a total absence of

vulgarity and a fairer treatment, which made this department of warfare

always pleasing"--which is all very true if we admit that the function

of ridicule and banter as political weapons is to be merely "pleasing."

At any rate, if it be so, it is the knell of all great satire--with the

corresponding effect of making the more caustic and grosser sides of men

like Swift impossible. Yet, on the other hand, so late as 1860,

according to Sir Theodore Martin, _Punch_ more than any other paper

reflected the national feeling in such matters as our naval defences; so

that in its support of Lord Lyndhurst in his patriotic agitation it

greatly assisted in strengthening the hands of the Government.

It is interesting, when you know your _Punch_ as you should your Bible,

to lean back in your chair and recall the most striking and important

among the three thousand designs, more or less, that stand out as

landmarks in _Punch's_ pages.

The first, of course, for association's sake, is that pageful of

"Foreign Affairs" which introduced Leech to _Punch's_ readers. It

appeared in the fourth number, on August 7th, 1841. The "Foreign

Affairs" consist chiefly of groups of foreign refugees to be seen at

that time, and even now in some measure, in the vicinity of Soho and

Leicester Square--the political scum of Paris ("Parisites," may they not

be called?) and of Berlin. The scroll bearing the title in the middle of

the page is fully signed, with the addition of the artist's sign-manual,

which was afterwards to become known throughout the whole artistic and

laughter-loving world--a leech wriggling in a water-bottle. This début

did little justice to Percival Leigh's introduction, for the block was

delivered so late that, containing as it did a considerable amount of

work, it made it impossible for the engraver to finish it in time for

the ordinary publishing hour. The usual means of publication and

despatch were consequently missed, and the result was a very serious

fall in that week's circulation. For some time after that Leech drew no

more, learning meanwhile the elementary lesson that large blocks take

longer to cut than small ones--or, at least, did then, before Charles

Wells had introduced his great invention of a block that could be taken

to pieces in order that each small square might be given to different

hands to engrave. Nevertheless, even to the end Leech always had a

tendency to be late with his cartoons, and half Mark Lemon's time,

according to Edmund Yates and others, was passed in hansom-cabs bowling

away to Notting Hill, Brunswick Square, or to Kensington, where in

succession Leech resided.

Yet he could be astonishingly rapid when he liked, and often would he

complete a cartoon on the wood while his Editor smoked a cigar at his

elbow. Such a drawing--such a feat--was that remarkable block of

"L'Empire c'est la Paix" (1859), representing Louis Napoleon as a

hedgehog bristling with bayonets, admirable in expression and execution,

yet not original in idea--though it is as likely as not that Leech had

never seen, or else had forgotten, the cartoon in the "Puppet Show"

(June, 1854), wherein the Tsar Nicholas appears in a manner precisely

similar. The Dinner had by exception been held on Thursday (March 10th,

1859) instead of on the previous day; every moment was precious; and

Leech proposed the idea for the cartoon, drew it in two hours, and

caught his midday train on the following day, speeding away into the

country with John Tenniel for their usual Saturday hunt.

But in accordance with that strange law of memory that horror, ugliness,

and power should spring to the mind before humour, grace, or beauty, it

is the tragic side and passionate purpose of _Punch's_ career as shown

in his cartoons that first arise in one's recollection. And it is (with

but one or two exceptions) exclusively in his cartoons that Leech showed

his tragic power. "The Poor Man's Friend" (1845), in which Death, gaunt

and grisly, comes to the relief of a wretch in the very desolation of

misery and poverty, tells as much in one page as Jerrold's pen, with all

its strength and intensity, could make us feel in a score. Ten years

later the same idea was splendidly developed and magnificently realised

in the cartoon entitled "General Février turned Traitor," which not more

than once or twice in the whole of _Punch's_ history has been surpassed

either in loftiness of conception or depth of tragedy, or in the

tremendous effect that immediately attended its publication throughout

the country.

During the Crimean War the winter of 1854-55 was terrible in its

severity, and the sufferings of our soldiers were appalling. The

suspense at home increased the country's emotion as to the terrors they

knew of in the field. The callous statement of the Tsar, therefore,

about that time reported, that "Russia has two generals in whom she can

confide--Generals Janvier and Février," struck indignation and disgust

into every British soul. On February 2nd the news arrived of the death

of the Emperor. Popular excitement was intense. Consols rose 2 per

cent., and the foreign market was in a state of such confusion that

brokers refused to cite even a nominal quotation. Eight days later

appeared Leech's cartoon, with its double meaning of superb power,

though it was, no doubt, not the most favourable specimen of the

draughtsman's art. Received by most with wild enthusiasm, by others with

condemnation as a cruel use of a cruel fate, it none the less

electrified the country. "Never," writes Mr. Frith, "can I forget the

impression that Leech's drawing made upon me! There lay the Tsar, a

noble figure in death, as he was in life, and by his side a stronger

King than he--a bony figure, in General's uniform, snow-besprinkled,

who 'beckons him away.' Of all Leech's work, this seems to be the finest

example. Think how savage Gillray or vulgar Rowlandson would have

handled such a theme!--the Emperor would have been caricatured into a

repulsive monster, and Death would have lost his terrors."

[Illustration: GENERAL FEVRIER TURNED TRAITOR.

(_Reduced from the Cartoon by John Leech. "Punch" 10th February, 1855._)]

Ruskin compares this cartoon for impressiveness in the perfect

manifestation of the grotesque and caricature in art with Hood's "Song

of the Shirt" in poetry. "The reception of the last-named wood-cut,"

says he, "was in several respects a curious test of modern feeling....

There are some points to be regretted in the execution of the design,

but the thought was a grand one; the memory of the word spoken and of

its answer, could hardly in any more impressive way have been recorded

for the people; and I believe that to all persons accustomed to the

earnest forms of art it contained a profound and touching lesson. The

notable thing was, however, that it offended persons _not_ in earnest,

and was loudly cried out against by the polite journalism of Society.

This fate is, I believe, the almost inevitable one of thoroughly genuine

work in these days, whether poetry or painting; but what added to the

singularity in this case was that _coarse_ heartlessness was even more

offended than polite heartlessness."

Just before this Tenniel had given us a fine drawing of England and

France--the new allies--as typified by two splendid specimens of Guards

of both nations, standing back to back in friendly rivalry of height;

and the cut achieved such popularity that, under its title of "The

United Service," it was reproduced broadcast on many articles of use,

and decorated the backs of playing-cards.

The following year Sir John Tenniel (who though hardly more convincing

than Leech, yet by his power of draughtsmanship and bigness of

conception could be far more imposing) produced the earliest of his

magnificent studies of what may be called his "Animal Types" in "The

British Lion Smells a Rat" (1856). This heralded what are in some

respects his masterpieces, the Cawnpore cartoons (1857), the chief of

which is "The British Lion's Vengeance on the Bengal Tiger." Once this

fine drawing is seen, of the royal beast springing on its snarling foe,

whose victims lie mangled under its paw, it can never be forgotten. It

is a double-page cartoon, splendidly wrought by the artist at the

suggestion of Shirley Brooks; and while it responded and gave expression

to the feelings of revenge which agitated England at the awful events

that had passed at the time of the Indian Mutiny, and served as a banner

when they raised the cry of vengeance, it alarmed the authorities, who

feared that they would thereby be forced on a road which both policy and

the gentler dictates of civilisation forbade. Vengeance was the cry; and

the wise and humane counsels of Lord Canning met only with contempt and

anger, and rendered him the most unpopular man of the day.

Soon it was Tenniel's destiny to shine alone in the cartoons of _Punch_.

Leech, in the last few years of his life, tired with the strain of

over-work and ill-health, withdrew more and more from the making of "big

cuts," till towards the end they were left almost entirely in the hands

of his well-loved colleague. Tenniel rose to the position and to the

full height of the great events that courted his pencil. The great

American struggle of North and South gave unlimited opportunity, and for

four years _Punch_, first taking sides hotly against slave-trading,

became at times simply pedagogic in his attitude towards both the

combatants. From the time (January 26th, 1861) when there was published

"Mrs. Carolina asserting her Right to Larrup her Nigger," down to the

crowning cartoon of "Habet"--the combatants as gladiators before the

enthroned and imperial negroes ("Ave Cæsar!")--many fine cartoons were

issued; but the last-named has been held by many to be the finest that

has ever issued from the artist's pencil. But, in sentiment at least, a

greater was to come--one which helped to melt for us in a measure the

hardened heart of the American nation, at that time distrustful of

England, and righteously indignant at many a taunt that had been

launched against her. This was the affecting picture of Britannia's

tribute and _Punch's_ _amende honorable_, called simply, "Abraham Lincoln:

Foully Assassinated April 14th, 1865," while Shirley Brooks's verses

which accompany them take highest rank among poetry of its kind--lines

which, rugged perhaps in themselves, come straight from the heart, and

speak to a whole nation with true emotion and deep sincerity.

[Illustration: THE "PAS DE DEUX."

From the "Scène de Triomphe" in the Grand Anglo-Turkish _Ballet

d'Action_. (_The Finished Sketch by Sir John Tenniel for the Cartoon in

"Punch," 3rd August, 1878._)]

Then came "A Leap in the Dark" (1867)--Britannia on her hunter, Dizzy,

"going blind" through the hedge of Reform; and soon after the series on

the Franco-Prussian War and the situation that immediately preceded the

outbreak of hostilities, more particularly that (proposed by Mr. du

Maurier) in which the shade of the great Napoleon stands warningly in

the path of the infatuated Emperor; while those that illustrated the

close of the struggle, aroused a deeper sympathy for France than all the

leading-articles and descriptive essays put together. Tenniel's

hell-hounds of war, who menace the fallen figure of France distraught,

are again seen in the series, almost as fine, that accompanied and

followed the Russo-Turkish struggle. A few months later heroics were

once more set aside for humour, and the celebrated cartoon representing

the successful termination of the Berlin Treaty was given forth--"The

_Pas de Deux_" (1878)--in which Lords Beaconsfield and Salisbury in

official dress are executing their _pas de triomphe_ with characteristic

grace and ineffable mock-seriousness of mien.

Another cartoon that attracted general attention for its exquisite

fooling, and that still haunts the mind of those who can appreciate a

completely happy adaptation of text to subject and situation, is "The

Political 'Mrs. Gummidge'" (May, 1885). Mr. Gladstone, as Mrs. Gummidge,

sits in the Peggotty boathouse by the fire, on which a pot of Russian

stew is simmering, while her knitting, marked "Egypt," has fallen from

her weary hands, and, the very picture of misery, moans out: "I ain't

what I could wish to be. My troubles make me contrairy. I feel my

troubles, and they make me contrairy. I make the House uncomfortable. I

don't wonder at it!!!" To which Mr. John Peggotty-Bull, pointing with

his pipe-stem at the portrait of Beaconsfield on the wall, mutters

(deeply sympathising, aside), "She's been thinking of the old 'un!" It

was proposed by Mr. Burnand.

But Sir John Tenniel's greatest success of all in recent

years--artistically and popularly successful--is undoubtedly the great

picture illustrative of Prince Bismarck's resignation in 1889, entitled

"Dropping the Pilot." The subject, it may be stated, was not a

suggestion made at the Table, but it was handed in from the late

Gilbert Arthur à Beckett, who was too ill to attend the Dinner--(he died

very soon after)--and who thus, as so many other _Punch_ contributors

have done--Thomas Hood, Artemus Ward, Leech, Gilbert Abbott à Beckett,

Charles Bennett, and others--sent in one of the most valuable of all his

suggestions just as his career was drawing to its close. The idea was

immediately accepted, and its excellence fully appreciated. It was

decided that it should occupy a double-page; and Sir John Tenniel, who

has always risen to a great occasion, did the fullest justice to the

subject. When the paper was sent round to the Staff, as it always is, on

the Monday night, they foresaw with delight that here was a great

_coup_, and their conviction received ample confirmation on the

publishing-day from the country at large. There was a world of pathos in

the weather-beaten old mariner who goes thoughtfully, full of doubt and

care, down the side of the ship he had originally designed and had since

piloted so long and so well--now discharged as no longer wanted; and

there was a world of meaning in the ambitious and self-reliant young

Commander who looks over the ship's bulwark and gazes at the bent figure

of his departing counsellor. The cartoon, said Mr. Smalley, pleased

equally the Emperor and the Prince, for there was that in it which both

felt and sought for. The original sketch for the drawing on the wood was

finished by the artist as a commission from Lord Rosebery, who then

presented it to Prince Bismarck. In acknowledging the drawing the

ex-Chancellor declared, "It is indeed a fine one!" "The Hidden Hand"--a

criticism on Irish political crime and its incitement--was another of

Gilbert à Beckett's most striking suggestions. It appears on p. 103,

Vol. LXXXIV., 1883.

Next I would mention--besides Mr. Sambourne's admirable Jubilee picture

of "The Mahogany Tree," in which the Proprietors and Staff are gathered

round the Table as they toast triumphant _Punch_ (_see_

Frontispiece)--another cartoon which, nobly conceived, if not quite so

fine in execution, under the title of "Forlorn Hope" (October,

1893--proposed by Mr. Milliken), has been held by some as second only to

"Dropping the Pilot." It is the pathetic picture of Mr. Gladstone at

the moment of his retirement leading the attack against the House of

Lords. A grand old fortress crowning an enormous cliff stands out

strongly in evening light against the distant sky, and the grand old

warrior, in coat of mail, is struggling up the steep and slippery

side--a hopeless task, eloquent of the courage of despair.

[Illustration: THE POLITICAL MRS. GUMMIDGE.

(_The finished Sketch by Sir John Tenniel for the "Punch" Cartoon, 2nd

May, 1885. By Permission of Gilbert E. Samuel, Esq._)]

Last of all upon this list, on May 15th, 1895, was the grand design,

also suggested by Mr. Milliken, entitled "The Old Crusaders!"--Mr.

Gladstone and the Duke of Argyll "brothers-in-arms again" in their

crusade against the Turkish persecutions in Christian Armenia--the full

significance being insisted on by parallel dates--"Bulgaria 1876:

Armenia 1895." There is an air of unsurpassable dignity in the design of

the two old comrade-statesmen, mounted knights armed _cap à pie_, riding

forth, representative of Christendom and the nation's conscience.

Immediately on seeing the week's _Punch_ the Marquis of Lorne

telegraphed from Windsor to Sir John Tenniel, asking to be allowed to

acquire the original drawing; but he had been forestalled by the other

Champion's son, Mr. Henry Gladstone, who was then in town, and had

secured the prize for his family an hour or two before.

It must not be imagined that the _Punch_ cartoons have always been

matters, so to speak, of routine. The unexpected has more than once left

_Punch_ in a terribly awkward fix. On one occasion, in 1877, it was

confidently expected that Lord Beaconsfield's Government would be thrown

out on the Monday night or Tuesday morning, when, of course, it would be

too late to begin to think of drawing and engraving a cartoon; besides,

the matter was a foregone conclusion. So Beaconsfield was represented in

his robes, leaning back "in a heap" upon his bench, his chin on his

breast, and his hands thrust deep into his breeches pockets, the very

picture of a beaten Minister. But, as it happened, the Government was

_not_ defeated--and there was the cartoon! Providentially, however, the

Government had been severely badgered about some matter of trivial

importance, such as the amount of sealing-wax employed in Her Majesty's

Stationery Office, and the cartoon was used with a legend to the effect:

"After all the big things I have been in, to be pulled up for _this_!"

The public wondered, and thought that _Punch_ had taken the situation a

little too seriously; but it was a _pis-aller_, and the best had been

made of a shocking bad job.

Mr. Linley Sambourne, writing on this very matter in the "Magazine of

Art," tells something more of _Punch's_ tribulations: "Difficulties in

the production of cartoons sometimes arise in the impossibilities of

foretelling what, not a day only, but a week may bring forth. In

December, 1871, when His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, to the

profound sorrow of the entire nation, hovered between life and death,

Tenniel drew two cartoons, to be used as events might dictate. To the

intense relief and joy of all, the one that was issued was called

'Suspense,' with some beautiful verses entitled 'Queen, People, and

Princess: "Three Hearts in One";' while the other, a grief-stricken

figure of Britannia, lay almost forgotten in the engraver's bureau, but

was remembered, and had unhappily occasion to appear thirteen years

after, on April 5th, 1884, to note the sudden loss of His Royal Highness

the Duke of Albany. _Punch_ is not infallible. The most serious slip he

ever made in the 'cock-sure' line was a cartoon appearing on February

7th, 1885, representing the lamented General Gordon shaking hands with

General Sir Henry Stewart (who himself lay stiff and cold after glorious

action) _inside_ the fated city of Khartoum. When the number appeared

(although at the moment unconfirmed), Gordon himself had been butchered

by the Mahdi's fanatics; and another whole week had to elapse before it

could be corrected by a cartoon of baffled Britannia, with the heading

'Too Late!' I well remember being inside a picture gallery in Bond

Street with the Editor, and hearing newsboys shouting without; the

Editor turned to me and smilingly said, 'All right for our cut. There!

they're shouting "The fall of Khartoum"!' When we got outside, our faces

fell on finding the boot was on the other leg with a vengeance."

A more recent example of the tricks played upon _Punch_ by Fate was on

August 11th, 1894 (p. 66, Vol. CVII.), when Sir William Harcourt was

represented as an artilleryman mowing down the host of amendments put

upon the paper against the Irish Evictions Bill with a Gatling gun

labelled "Closure." Closure had, indeed, been promised, and upon that

the cartoon was based; but the Tory tactics threw out all calculations,

for the party declined to move their amendments, and took no further

part in the proceedings, so that there was no question whatever of

closure. The Bill passed _en bloc_, and the Gatling remained silent.

Finally, there is that class of cartoon always graceful in intention,

and invariably received by the public with respect and approval--the

Obituary Cartoon. It was invented by _Punch_ when Wellington died. The

nation was overpowered with a sense of its loss, and _Punch_, with his

finger, as ever, on the public pulse, reflected the national emotion

with a deep and noble sincerity that was gratefully felt and recognised.

From that day onwards the great occasions of a people's loss--either of

our own mourning or of our sympathy with that of others--have been

touched with a dignity and grace in accord with their lofty and solemn

purpose, in drawings which have rarely failed to touch a responsive

chord in the people's heart, and which, judged as compositions, have

often marked the highest point to which Sir John Tenniel's art has

reached.

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Contributed one cartoon on July 12th, 1884, and another November

3rd, 1894, when the expected death of the Tsar Alexander III., on the

subject of which Sir John Tenniel's cartoon had been prepared, did not

occur. "Cartoon Junior" was then promoted to "Cartoon Senior."

The History of "Punch" · 第 7 / 23 章