CARTOONS AND THEIR EFFECT.
Origin and Growth of the Cartoon--Origin of its Name--Its
Reflection of Popular Opinion--Source of _Punch's_ Power--_Punch's_
Downrightness offends France--Germany--And Russia--Lord Augustus
Loftus's Fix--Lord John Russell and "No Popery"--Mr. Gladstone and
Professor Ruskin on _Punch's_ Cartoons--Their Effect on Mr.
Disraeli--His Advances and Magnanimity--Rough Handling of Lord
Brougham--Sir Robert Peel--Lord Palmerston's Straw--Mr. Bright's
Eye-glass--Difficulties of Portraiture--John Bull _alias_ Mark
Lemon--Sir John Tenniel's Types.
Were you to ask the Editor, Staff, or Proprietors of _Punch_ whether
they regarded the political or the social section of the paper as the
more important, from the public point of view and their own, the answer
would probably be--that they could not tell you. Power and popularity,
even in a newspaper--_especially_ in a newspaper--are not synonymous
terms, and a great circulation does not necessarily carry influence
along with it. It may safely be taken that while the social section of
_Punch_, artistic and literary combined, earned for him his vast
popularity, his power, which at one time was great almost beyond present
belief, was obtained chiefly by his political satires with pen and
pencil. Nowadays, no doubt, their relative importance is more evenly
balanced, and what preponderating interest the cartoon may have for
"_Pater_" is equalled by the special fascination exercised by the social
picture over "_familias_."
It has been the mission of _Punch_, as of many another great and
original writer, to invent and import into the language words and
expressions which are surely destined to remain. It has already been
recorded how it was he who christened the great conservatory now at
Sydenham "The Crystal Palace"--though he was not so complimentary until
he had cultivated the personal friendship of Sir Joseph Paxton over the
"Daily News" affair. It is he who, in his most laconic manner, has
given his immortal counsel for all time to intending _mariés_; it is he
who has crystallised the exaggerated idea of Scottish thrift and economy
in "bang went saxpence"--to the circumstances of all of which I have
already referred. Mr. Punch, in short, has left the English language
richer than he found it, not only in word, but in idea. So, again, the
present application of the word "cartoon" is in reality a creation of
_Punch's_.
At the birth of the modern satirical print--that is to say, in the reign
of Charles I.--we see it called "A Mad Designe;" eighty years later,
when George II. was King, it was known as a "hieroglyphic;" and then
onwards, through the caustic and venomous days of the mighty Gillray and
Rowlandson, and even of George Cruikshank, and their contemporaries,
"caricature" was the term applied to the separate copper-plate
broadsides that were issued, crudely coloured, from the famous shops of
Mrs. Humphreys, of Ackermann, of Fores, and of McLean, and displayed in
their windows to the delight and savage applause of a laughing crowd.
Then "HB" had followed, Dicky Doyle's clever father, whose political
lithographs had begun to appear in 1830, and continued until
1851--ceased, that is to say, when _Punch_ was ten years old. The wonder
about them was that, even before the days of photography, the likenesses
of his subjects were so admirable, and his thrusts so happy, while his
art, criticised strictly, was so very poor and amateurish. But as
exaggeration found no trace in his designs, and his compositions aimed
at raising little more than a suspicion of a smile in the beholder (save
in the subjects of them), the word "cartoon" was more applicable to them
than to any that preceded or have followed them. Mr. Austin Dobson, it
is true, speaks of them as "caricatures;" but their publisher more
correctly defined them as "Political Sketches."
Then, after the little wood-cut "caricatures" by Robert Seymour, came
_Punch_ with his full-page designs. Announced also as "caricatures," for
a long while they were known as "pencillings;" but it was some time
before they became an invariable feature of the paper. For several
consecutive weeks, indeed, in 1843 there was no full-page cut at all,
until John Leech recommenced them with a series of "Social Miseries,"
the first of which represented "Thoughts during Pastorale." But the most
successful and the best remembered was "The Pleasures of Folding Doors"
when "The Battle of Prague" is being thumped out relentlessly on the
other side.
Now in July of 1843 the first great exhibition of cartoons for the
Houses of Parliament was held. These gigantic designs handled the
loftiest subjects, executed in the most elevated spirit of the highest
art, with a view to ultimate execution in fresco on the walls of the
palace of Westminster. It was not in nature for _Punch_ to allow so
excellent an opportunity to pass by without taking sarcastic advantage
of it. He--conformably with his rôle of Sir Oracle, omniscient and
omnifarious--must have his "cartoons" too; and so on p. 22 of the second
volume for the same year (No. 105 of the journal) he appeared with No. 1
of his series. It was from Leech's pencil, entitled "Substance and
Shadow," with the legend "The Poor ask for Bread, and the Philanthropy
of the State accords--an Exhibition." The cartoon represents a humble
crowd of needy visitors to the exhibition of pictures on a suggested
"free day," in accordance with the recommendation of the Government.
This design, a suggestion of Jerrold's, affords an excellent example of
the warm-hearted, wrong-headed sympathy with the poor which led him so
often cruelly to misjudge and misrepresent the acts and lives of persons
in authority whose views were not, like his own, spontaneously, kindly,
and impulsively unpractical. The series of six cartoons was directed
against abuses, the last, dealing with the subject of duelling, being
entitled "The Satisfaction of a Gentleman"--in which two duellists
appear attended by seconds wearing caps and bells, while the hangman
awaits the victor in one corner, and Death digs a grave for his victim
in the other.
After this series _Punch_ for a long while dropped the word "cartoon,"
but the public remembered it, and has clung to it ever since. It is a
remarkable thing that while the "Encyclopædic Dictionary" entirely
ignores the word in its modern application to satirical prints, Dr.
Murray's monumental lexicon has as its earliest use of the word a
reference made by Miss Braddon to Leech's cartoons in the year 1863--or
twenty years after it was first coined!
But the very first number of _Punch_, as we have seen, rejoiced in a
cartoon as we now understand it--that is to say, a large full-page or
double-page block of a satirical nature, usually placed in the middle
opening of the paper, and for the most part still further dignified by
being "unbacked" by other printing. It has been stated that Henry Mayhew
at the very beginning insisted on this being a special feature of the
paper, defeating the opposition of "Daddy" Landells, who was all for a
number of little "coots," as he pronounced them, sprinkled plentifully
over the pages. But inasmuch as Landells was an engraver, who would have
delighted in the opportunity offered to his apprentices by a "big cut,"
as he was anxious above all things to follow the Paris "Charivari" (the
very _raison d'être_ of which was the large political cartoon), and as,
moreover, the original "dummy" of the paper makes provision for such a
cartoon, the statement is not to be accepted.
It was really a poor thing, that first cartoon--"Candidates under
Different Phases;" but it possessed over the little "caricatures" by
Robert Seymour in Gilbert à Beckett's "Figaro in London," that had gone
before, the important advantage of size. It was smaller than the
hideously vulgar cuts in the "Penny Satirist," but--in tone, at
least--this harmless satire on Parliamentary candidates displayed a
refreshing and a highly appreciated decency and moderation. And since
that time, whether satirical or frankly funny, sarcastic or witty,
compassionate or denunciatory, eulogistic, sympathetic, indignant, or
merely expository, the cartoons have rarely overstepped the boundary of
good taste, or done aught but express fearlessly, honestly, and so far
as may be gracefully, the popular feeling of the moment.
It is just this happy ability of _Punch's_ to reflect the opinion of the
country that gave it the great power it attained and won it the respect
of every successive Government. It is true that of late years Mr. Punch
has rather followed public opinion than led it; and it is equally true
that he now represents a higher stratum of society than at first, when
Jerrold week after week pleaded the cause of the poor. Yet the
Governments of the day might have applied to him Addison's words--
"In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow,
Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow;
Hast so much wit and mirth and spleen about thee,
There is no living with thee, nor without thee"--
and esteemed themselves happy when _Punch_ smiled upon them. "What
_Punch_ says" appears to be a good deal to the Great Ones of our world,
thick-skinned though they be; for even outside politics, they have,
generally speaking, accepted as an axiom "Vox Punchii, vox Populi;"
while Cabinet Ministers, from the Premier downwards, have hoped from his
benevolence and feared from his hostility! When Mr. Mundella publicly
declared that "_Punch_ is almost the most dangerous antagonist that a
politician could have opposed to him--for myself I would rather have
_Punch_ at my back in any political or social undertaking than half the
politicians of the House of Commons," he was merely expressing a
conviction on the part of statesmen that many of them have given
evidence of. It is another proof of the power of the caricaturist--a
very proper respect for the smile which brings popularity and for the
ridicule which kills.
We all know the effect of Gillray's, Rowlandson's, and George
Cruikshank's etching-needles upon their victims--how these latter would
writhe under a stab that was often virulent in its brutality, merciless,
scurrilous, and cruel. We know how money passed--at least, in their
earlier years--to influence the political opinions of the caricaturists,
less in the hope of damaging "the other side" than with the view to
diluting with a little milk of human kindness their etchers' aquafortis;
and we know how Cruikshank's sudden abandonment of political caricature
has been generally attributed (without drawing forth any denial) to a
very special communication of a remunerative sort from Windsor Castle.
That, however, was owing rather to his remorseless gibbeting of the
follies and scandals of the Court than to political attack or personal
persecution; but other circumstances of a more serious, because of an
international, character have now and again attended the publication of
a caricature. For example, like the Hi-Talleyrand episode, Leech's
famous cartoon of "Cock-a-doodle-do!" (February 13th, 1858) promised at
one time--less directly, it is true--to bring unpleasant consequences in
its train. In the spirit of the Prince de Joinville, whose bombastic
language towards England in 1848 had set an example not to be resisted,
were the fire-eating words of a few French officers, who offered to
"unsheathe their swords and place them at their sovereign's disposal,"
and so forth. Leech replied with a cartoon of a Gallic cock, capped and
spurred, flapping its epaulettes and crowing its loudest, while Napoleon
the Third curses the "Crowing Colonel" under his breath. "_Diable!_" he
says, "the noisy bird will awake my neighbour;" and the point is
emphasised by a quotation from the _Moniteur_. The hit, if not quite
original (for Doyle had made a precisely similar sketch of "Le Coq
Gaulois" twelve years before in "The Almanac of the Month") was, at any
rate, a fair one. But some unscrupulous British patriot so took the
matter into his own scurvy hands that the following advertisement was
published in "The Times" of March 10th:--
"_Fifty Pounds Reward._--It having come to the knowledge of the
Committee of the Army and Navy Club that a caricature, with most
coarse and vulgar language appended thereto, was sent to an officer
in command of a French regiment, accompanied with a forged message
from the club, the above reward will, within six weeks from this
date, be paid by the Secretary of the Club on the conviction and
punishment of the offender."
And so the affair was amicably settled, but not before correspondence of
a lively character had passed between both the insulted parties, and it
was feared that the matter might be taken up as "an insult to the French
Army."
Many a time has _Punch_ been excluded from France--beginning as early as
February 11th, 1843--by reason of his political cuts. In the first
half-volume for that year a cartoon entitled "_Punch_ turned out of
France"--showing a very sea-sick puppet received on Boulogne quay at the
point of a bayonet--first made public the severity of his struggle with
Louis Philippe. There is no doubt that his denunciations approached
about as near to scurrility as ever he was guilty of; and it is equally
true that the French King winced under the attacks made with such
acerbity upon his well-known parsimony. In due time, on April 7th, the
embargo was lifted, but again in the following year an article by
Thackeray, entitled "A Case of Real Distress," in which _Punch_ offers
to open a subscription for the poor beggar, with a cut by the same hand
representing the King as a "Pauvre Malheureux," had the effect of a
fresh exclusion. _Punch_ responded vigorously, his first proceeding
being to advertise, "Wanted--A Few Bold Smugglers" in order that he "may
continue to disseminate the civilisation of his pages throughout
benighted France."
And so on several occasions, especially during the period of his long
hostility to Napoleon III., was _Punch_ turned back from the French
frontier, though later on the authorities permitted him to enter, on the
condition that, like a Mahometan who leaves his slippers at the temple
door, he tore out his cartoon before he passed inside. Of late years,
however, _Punch_ has on the whole been on excellent terms with "Mme. la
Republique," chiefly through his own forbearance during the period of
what promised to be the Anglo-Congolese Difficulty. It is true that the
cartoon of November, 1894, showing the French Wolf about to spring upon
the Madagascar Lamb, aroused fine indignation in Paris at this English
version of the methods of French colonial expansion; and that the famous
picture of Marshal MacMahon of a score of years before, in which the
President was shown stuck fast in the political mud, obstinately
satisfied with his impossible position ("J'y suis!--J'y reste!"?), gave
equal offence on the boulevards; and although in the latter case the
fairness of the hit was acknowledged, _Punch_ was again, as he had
several times recently been, placed under ban. Again, at the time of the
Franco-Russian _rapprochement_ and consequent _fêtes_, the drawing of
the Bear and Republic in cordial _tête-à-tête_, the former disclosing
the true source and object of his new-found affection by hinting, with a
sly wink and a smirk, about a "little loan," gave rise to real anger,
and was deeply resented--probably with the more annoyance that the
cutting truth with which _Punch_ had hit off the situation was secretly
and unwillingly recognised. But save on one occasion no official
expulsion or repulse has in recent times been _Punch's_ lot. Moreover,
his splendid series of cartoons, nobly conceived and full of generous
sympathy, which he published towards the close of the Franco-Prussian
War, are still remembered with some approach to gratitude in a country
which has rarely, if ever, returned us the compliment of kindliness or
friendship, or even of courtesy, in its satiric press.
Even in Germany, though _Punch_ has not often been denied admittance, he
has had at least one distinguished door closed against him. This was
when in March, 1892 (p. 110 in the first half-yearly volume), Mr. Linley
Sambourne's "cartoon junior" was published, satirising the German
Emperor in "The Modern Alexander's Feast; or, The Power of Sound"--
"With ravished ears
The Monarch hears;
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres."
The German Army Bill agitation--the struggle between Emperor and
Reichstag, which was followed with so much interest in England--was then
at its height; and the monarch had no mind for trivialities. _Punch's_
candour in illustrating the title given him in this country of "The
Shouting Emperor," so it is alleged, annoyed him. "For nearly forty
years," said one authority, "_Punch_ has been regularly taken in at the
Prussian royal palaces in Berlin and Potsdam. The Emperor William has
just issued a private order that _Punch_ is to be struck off the list of
journals which are supplied to him; and the Empress Frederick, Prince
Henry of Prussia, and all the members of the Royal Family who are in the
habit of reading English journals, have been desired by their
aristocratic relation to discontinue the obnoxious periodical. It is
understood at Berlin that the Emperor's wrath has been excited by some
jocular allusions to his Majesty's oratorical indiscretions which
recently appeared in _Punch_." If the members of the Imperial Family
scrupulously obeyed the alleged command, they lost the enjoyment of a
hearty laugh over _Punch's_ retort--for it is _Punch's_ habit always to
retort in matters of this sort when his fun is misunderstood or his
irony, in his opinion, taken in ill-part. This was the much-talked-of
"Wilful Wilhelm"--representing the Emperor, _à la_ Struuwelpeter, as a
passionate fractious child, screaming amid his toy soldiers and drums:
"Take the nasty _Punch_ away;
I won't have any _Punch_ to-day."
Nor would he leave him alone for a while; but returning a year later to
the charge, and taking as a text the Emperor's words--
"It was impossible for me to anticipate the rejection of the Army
Bills, so fully did I rely upon the patriotism of the Imperial Diet
to accept them unreservedly. A patriotic minority has been unable
to prevail against the majority.... I was compelled to resort to a
dissolution, and I look forward to the acceptance of the Bills by
the new Reichstag. Should this expectation be again disappointed, I
am determined to use every means in my power to achieve my
purpose...."
_Punch_ promptly produced his cartoon a third time, by Mr. Sambourne's
pencil, of "Nana would not give me a bow-wow!--A Pretty Little Song
for Pettish Little Emperors," as the latest Teutonic version of the
music-hall ditty then in vogue. And later on there was Sir John
Tenniel's contribution to the pretty little quarrel, in which in
"Alexander and Diogenes" (October, 1893) the Emperor asks, "Is there
anything I can do for you? Castle? or anything of that sort?" and
Bismarck Diogenes grunts his reply, "No--only leave me to my tub!" But
the Emperor's anger did not last long--if it ever existed at all--for it
was announced that he again received his _Punch_ regularly, but, to
save appearances, it arrived from London every week in an
official-looking envelope, which was opened by the Kaiser's own hands,
and by him duly stowed away in his library.
If _Punch_, by his outspoken criticism, has succeeded in raising the ire
of two of the most civilised of the Great Powers, it was not to be
expected that he should escape the blacking-roller of the Russian censor
of the press. The touchiness of that official does credit rather to his
zeal than to his judgment--and, besides, he is obviously no humorist.
The Russians have had little opportunity of learning what is thought of
them and their governors at 85, Fleet Street. Time after time has the
cartoon been destroyed; and Mr. Sambourne, journeying in the country,
learned by personal experience that Moscow and St. Petersburg were not
as London and Paris. "Should it happen," he writes, "that any cartoon or
cut at all trenched on Russian subjects, and especially his Majesty the
Tsar, the page was either torn out or erased in the blackest manner by
the Bear's paw. I have seen some of Mr. Tenniel's cartoons so
maltreated, and have myself been frequently honoured in the same way."
It is therefore rather amusing that while such drawings as Sir John
Tenniel produced when the great Nihilistic wave was sweeping over
Russia, just before the renewed application of the repressive system
during the reign of Alexander III. and during the horrors of the Jewish
persecutions, _Punch_ would appear on the Tsar's table with cartoons far
more severe and humiliating than the majority of those which appealed to
the censor's sense of despotism. Of this Lord Augustus Loftus gives a
remarkable example--remarkable, too, for the Ambassador's diplomatic
ingenuity--his story referring to a period on the eve of the
Russo-Turkish War.
"The Emperor had a favourite dog called Milord, which never left him. We
were dining at the palace, and it being a small party (there were only
the Imperial Family and Court attendants), we retired after dinner to
the Empress's private apartments. I suddenly heard the Emperor calling
'Milord!' and supposed that he was calling for me; but it was his dog
that was wanted, to receive the biscuits which his Majesty was in the
daily habit of bestowing on his favourite. I immediately hastened to his
Majesty, and learnt the explanation from the Emperor, who was highly
amused at the incident.
"At the time his Majesty was seated in an inner saloon (a sort of
alcove), and placed near him was a small table, on which was a number of
_Punch_, with a cartoon representing the Sovereigns of Austria, Russia,
and Germany at a whist table, the Emperor of Russia holding down his
hand with a card. The Emperor put the paper in my hand, and said,
'_Expliquez-moi cela._' I felt the difficulty of the situation, and to
collect my thoughts asked to be permitted to study it. After a short
time I said--
"'Oh, sire, it is quite clear. The political European position is here
represented by a whist party, and your Majesty is represented apparently
as hesitating whether to continue the game.'
"It was a perplexing question, and I felt very much as Daniel may have
felt when called upon to explain 'Nebuchadnezzar's dream!'"
I was suggesting just now that to Cabinet Ministers the attitude of
_Punch_ is often a matter of very real concern--at least, that they seem
usually to have attached more importance to the matter than we who stand
outside would think to be reasonable; though, from a proper sense of the
ridiculous doubtless, Ministers have rarely turned upon _Punch_ to rend
him, for all they may have suffered at his hands.
There is a pretty story of Lord John Russell that is at once a charming
proof to the statesman's magnanimity and of the paper's influence. When
the excitement, already referred to, of the so-called "Papal Aggression"
was at its height, in consequence of the action of the Pope in creating
Roman Catholic Archbishops and Bishops with English territorial titles,
Lord John, who was then in power, took an active part in the House of
Commons on the side of the scaremongers, by introducing the
Ecclesiastical Titles Bill--in respect to which he was strenuously
opposed by both Bright and Cobden--not in order to put repressive
measures into force against the Catholics, he assured the House, but
simply "to insist upon our ascendency." Or, as he explained in 1874,
"The object of that Bill was merely to _assert_ the supremacy of the
Crown. It was never intended to prosecute. Accordingly, a very clever
artist represented me, in a caricature, as a boy who had chalked up 'No
Popery' upon a wall[17] and then ran away. This was a very fair joke....
When my object had been gained, I had no objection to the repeal of the
Bill." This gave Leech his chance, and he executed his famous cartoon of
'No Popery!' (March 22nd, 1851), which was among the greatest popular
successes ever published by _Punch_--even his smart young rival, the
"Man in the Moon," declaring that _Punch_ had with his cut "wakened up
those whom his letterpress had sent to sleep."
In his Reminiscences the Rev. William Rogers, Rector of St. Botolph's,
Bishopsgate, tells the delightful sequel. When he called on Lord John,
the Minister began to talk about the Charterhouse. "He said that he had
lost his interest in the latter since his patronage had been taken away.
I thought this pretty good for Whig doctrine. 'No,' he went on, 'I never
abused my patronage. Do you remember a cartoon in _Punch_ where I was
represented as a little boy writing 'No Popery' on a wall and running
away?' I said that I did. 'Well,' he continued, 'that was very severe,
and did my Government a great deal of harm; but I was so convinced that
it was not maliciously meant that I sent for John Leech, and asked him
what I could do for him. He said he should like a nomination for his son
to Charterhouse, and I gave it him." This, surely, if it be true--for
Mr. Silver has a very different story--was a "retort courteous" that
would prove how deeply the cartoon went home. Were it true, it would
show how the independence of Leech could be in no wise affected--though,
going to the House one day, he was greatly struck with the extraordinary
dignity of the Minister during his speech in the great debate on foreign
policy (February 17th, 1854), when the Crimean War with Russia
threatened.
In Mr. Gladstone's "great Edinburgh speech" of the autumn of 1893 the
veteran Premier said that _Punch_, "whenever it can, manifests the
Liberal sentiments by which it was governed from the first." And
naturally, as a consistent Liberal supporter, it as consistently
attacked the Tory party. Says Mr. Ruskin in one of his lectures on "The
Art of England:" "You must be clear about _Punch's_ politics. He is a
polite Whig, with a sentimental respect for the Crown, and a practical
respect for property. He steadily flatters Lord Palmerston, from his
heart adores Mr. Gladstone. Steadily, but not virulently, caricatures
Mr. D'Israeli; violently and virulently castigates assault upon property
in any kind, and holds up for the general idea of perfection, to be
aimed at by all the children of heaven and earth, the British Hunting
Squire, the British Colonel, and the British sailor."
This persistent opposition to Disraeli throughout his whole career--an
hostility more bitter than perhaps might have been expected from
Ruskin's "polite Whig"--was esteemed at its full importance by the
object of it, though it was accepted by him, as similar attacks are
accepted by all great minds, in excellent part. Nevertheless, after only
three or four years of attack, he made a determined though unsuccessful
attempt to conciliate his pungent critic. Vizetelly, in his "Glances
Back through Seventy Years," tells the story with all the interest
belonging to a personal recollection.
"In the summer of 1845," he says, "Mr. Disraeli took the chair at the
annual dinner of the 'Printers' Pension Society,' when the stewards, of
whom I was one, received him in the drawing-room of the 'Albion,' in
Aldersgate Street. Immediately after his entrance he posted himself in a
nonchalant fashion with his back to the mantelpiece, and his thumbs in
his waistcoat pockets, an attitude Thackeray was fond of assuming, and
began to chat familiarly with those near him. In a minute or two he
asked if Mr. Leech was present (Leech was one of the stewards), as if he
would like to make his acquaintance. The famous _Punch_ caricaturist
thereupon stepped forward, and was duly introduced. Disraeli showed
himself particularly gracious, and warmly congratulated the artist,
whose pencil had lately been employed in satirising him in a
disparaging fashion, depicting him as a nice young man for a small
party, _i.e._ the Young England party, as a Jew dealer in cast-off
notions, and as a young Gulliver before the Brobdingnag Minister (Sir R.
Peel). Disraeli tried his hardest to ingratiate himself with the
distinguished caricaturist, but Leech, proof against the wiles of the
charmer, rejoined some months afterwards with the famous cartoon wherein
Disraeli, who had lately proclaimed that, although the cause was lost,
there should be some retribution for those who betrayed it, figured as a
spiteful ringletted viper, and Peel as a smiling unconcerned old file.
"During the dinner the chairman did his best to make himself pleasant,
and hobbed and nobbed unreservedly with his immediate neighbours....
When the toasts had been drunk and the secretary had read out the list
of subscriptions and the quiet family-men had hurried off to catch the
last suburban omnibus, Mr. Disraeli showed no disposition to vacate the
chair. Seeing this, the remaining guests drew up to his end of the
table, and a lively discourse ensued, in which a casual allusion to
_Punch_ was made. Disraeli profited by this by rising to his feet, and
in a clever and amusing speech proposed the health of Mr. Punch, towards
whom, he protested, he felt no kind of malice on account of any
strictures, pictorial or verbal, which that individual might have passed
upon him. Everybody entered into the spirit of the joke, and after the
toasts had been drunk, calls were made indifferently upon Lemon and à
Beckett, both of whom were present, to respond. Mark, however, rose, and
in a brief and witty speech returned thanks for the honour that had been
done, as he neatly put it, to an absent friend.
"Disraeli's amiable advances availed him nothing. For a long time
afterwards _Punch_ gave no quarter to the 'Red Indian of debate' who, as
Sir James Graham pithily phrased it, 'cut his way to power with a
tomahawk.' The time came, however, when Disraeli could show his
magnanimity. Leech, who had satirised him weekly, and so familiarised
everyone with his face and figure that an aristocratic little damsel, on
being presented to him, exclaimed, 'I know you! I've seen you in
_Punch_!'--Leech had had a pension given to him by the Liberals, and
when he died the pension would have died with him, had not Disraeli, who
had at last risen to power, interposed and secured it to the family."
And so Leech, who apparently _could not_ make an enemy, was indebted to
the generosity of his victims for two of the greatest services that were
rendered to him and his.
Lord Beaconsfield himself acknowledged in his latest book, "Endymion,"
his respect for _Punch's_ influence at that time, as well as his desire
to temper the ardour of its attacks if not to secure its silence, for he
there explains how the hero, who to some degree at least is to be
considered an autobiographical study, "flattered himself that
'Scaramouche'" would regard him in a more friendly spirit. _Punch_, with
pardonable pride, devoted a cartoon to this pointed reference, but
merely remarking, "H'm--he _did_ flatter himself," abated not one jot of
his caustic criticism.
But for all the failure of his advances, and for all his
sensitiveness--so far as he could be said to be sensitive at
all--Beaconsfield kept a close eye on _Punch_, and kept many, if not
all, of the cartoons in which he figured. Similarly did Napoleon III.
love to collect all those of himself which he could obtain, and pore
over them at intervals, even in those sadly fallen times he spent at
Chislehurst. And he had material for reflection enough, for in no way, I
take it, can a public man learn what a world of savagery, hatred,
cruelty, and uncharitableness lies, not so much in man's mind, but in
that corner of it which we euphemistically term his "humour," as in
following the handiwork of the political caricaturist of France. Mr.
Spurgeon, too, used to keep all the cartoons and caricatures that sought
to turn him to ridicule; and Lord Beaconsfield, like the Prince Consort,
Lord Randolph Churchill (who possessed several of the original _Punch_
drawings into which he had been introduced), among other politicians of
the day, kept these artistic instruments of political torture before
him, as a man treasures in his locket the hair of the dog that bit him.
A visitor to Hughenden gave, in the "Dublin Mail," an interesting
illustration of this tribute to the comic press. He was waiting in an
ante-chamber, "and while passing the time my attention was attracted to
a clever sketch of the then Prime Minister, depicted as Hamlet, seated
at a table covered with innumerable documents, the text quotation being,
'The time is out of joint. O Cursed spite, That [ever] I was born to set
it right!' I was smiling at the picture, which, I may add, was a cut out
of _Punch_, and framed, when the Prime Minister entered with the
gentleman who was to present me, and finding me gazing at the sketch
Lord Beaconsfield said, 'Yes, that is one of the best caricatures of me
that has yet appeared, and, strange to say, the artist has neither
presented me with donkey's ears nor cloven hoofs. I feel very much
flattered!' Lord Beaconsfield took an interest in all the caricatures
that appeared of him, and at the time he died he had several hundreds in
his possession."
Mr. Gladstone, who, we have often been assured, has not the gift of
humour, has at least enjoyed _Punch's_ good-natured yet occasionally
severe raillery, and in the same Edinburgh speech to which reference has
already been made, he recalled with much relish how, in connection with
the rejection of the Paper Duty Bill, he was represented in a cartoon as
being decorated by the triumphant Lord Derby--the Lord Derby of that
day, who led the House of Lords--with an immense sheet of paper made
into a fool's-cap, which he dropped upon his head. Mr. Goschen took a
still more exalted view of _Punch's_ prestige when he declared (at
Rugby, November, 1881) that "he had since attained to the highest
ambition which a statesman can reach--namely, to have a cartoon in
_Punch_ all to himself."
[Illustration: LORD BEACONSFIELD IN "PUNCH."
_By R. Doyle, J. Leech, J. Tenniel, C. Keene, L. Sambourne, and H.
Furniss. (Re-drawn by Harry Furniss.)_]
But hardly less important, in many a public man's opinion, than the
sardonic significance of _Punch's_ treatment of him in the cartoon, is
the degree of facial resemblance achieved by the artist. It is
undeniable that a likeness which is only half a likeness will often rob
an otherwise admirable cartoon of half its success, just as it was
oftentimes the excellence of the portraiture which more than
counterbalanced the weakness of HB's sketches. Lord Brougham always
flattered himself that _Punch's_ portraits of him did not do him
justice, and John Forster, in his "Life of Dickens," bears witness to
it. "Lord Carlisle repeated what the good old Brougham had said to him
of 'those _Punch_ people,' expressing what was really his fixed belief,
'They never get my face, and are obliged to put up with my plaid
trousers.'" But another writer, on the contrary, states that Lord
Brougham "himself admits that the _Punch_ likenesses are the best. Of
course, they are a little exaggerated, but not so much so as many with
whom I have chatted on the subject are apt to suppose;" while Motley,
the American Minister, declared, after an official meeting with the grim
old lord, "He is exactly like the pictures in _Punch_, only _Punch_
flatters him. The common pictures of Palmerston and Lord John Russell
are not at all like, to my mind; but Brougham is always hit exactly."
Leech, indeed, enjoyed nothing more than caricaturing him, one of the
most precious butts _Punch_ ever took to himself, until he was twitted
in the "Puppet-Show" at the liberties he took: "The proprietors will be
compelled to widen the columns of their journal ... to show, as far as
space will admit, to what lengths a nose may go in the hands of an
unprincipled illustrator." But it was not only that _Punch_ delighted in
toying with Lord Brougham's cantankerousness and his peculiarities of
manner and diction--as in the famous cartoon of Lord Brougham as Mrs.
Caudle, of the original sketch for which a reproduction is given
opposite--but he steadily carried into execution his threat of earlier
days, to drag Lord Brougham "in the mire." He has been as good as his
word ever since the day when Dicky Doyle drew the famous cover which is
familiar to us all--that is to say, in 1849--for, as you will see if you
will refer to last week's _Punch_, a young faun in the grand procession
that appears as a _relievo_ upon the podium or base draws along the mask
of Brougham by a string. But without doubt one of the most successful
cartoons Leech ever drew, and the most humorous portrait of Brougham,
represented him as a clown at Astley's, going up to the splendid
ring-master, the Duke of Wellington (as Mr. Widdicomb of Astley's
Amphitheatre) and saying "Well, Mr. Wellington, is there anything I can
do for you--for to run, for to fetch, for to carry, for to borrow, for
to steal?" As Lord Brougham was suspected of undue complaisance towards
the Duke at the time, the neatness of the political allusion was
received with extraordinary favour by the public.
Another admirable portrait, consistently good, was that of Sir Robert
Peel: so good, indeed, that when it was proposed to erect a statue to
the statesman, and the best of all likenesses was sought as a guide to
the sculptor--a resemblance truthful in feature and natural
expression--the choice fell on a cartoon by Leech, and according to that
drawing the head was modelled. Palmerston, too, was not a little
impressed when in Wales a postman spoke to him as though he knew him,
and replied, when questioned as to the recognition, "Seen your picture
in _Punch_, my lord."
[Illustration: "THE MRS. CAUDLE OF THE HOUSE OF LORDS."
"What do you say? _Thank heaven! You are going to enjoy the recess--and
you'll be rid of me for some months?_ Never mind. Depend upon it, when
you come back, you shall have it again. No: I don't raise the House, and
set everybody in it by the ears; but I'm not going to give up every
little privilege; though it's seldom I open my lips, goodness
knows!"--_"Caudle Lectures" (Improved)._
MRS. CAUDLE, LORD BROUGHAM; MR. CAUDLE, LORD CHANCELLOR LYNDHURST.
(_From the original Sketch for the Cartoon drawn by John Leech at
Thackeray's suggestion._)]
But _Punch_, it must be admitted, has often departed from the solemn
truth, both unintentionally and of malice aforethought. It was his
common practice to put a straw into Lord Palmerston's mouth. Palmerston,
of course, never did chew straws; but one was adopted as a symbol to
show his cool and sportive nature. Many a time has that straw formed
the topic of serious discussion by serious writers. Some have pretended
that it was designed to typify an expression used by one of his admiring
followers in the House--a tribute to his "stable character;" others have
said that it became his attribute from the time that he described
himself as "playing the part of judicious Bottle-Holder to the
pugnacious Powers of Europe;" and Mark Lemon declared that it was simply
used as a sort of trade-mark whereby he might be known again, just as
Mr. Harry Furniss invented Mr. Gladstone's collars, Lord Randolph
Churchill's diminutiveness, and exaggerated those complacent smiles and
oily rippling chins of Sir William Harcourt, continuing them long after
the time when Sir William could boast the local portliness no more.
However, it is certain that the sprig of straw, which really referred
only to his pure devotion to the Turf, from 1815 onwards, was first used
in 1851, just after the whimsical "Judicious Bottle-Holder" declaration,
and, as a matter of fact, added not a little to Palmerston's popularity,
as not only representing the Turf, but a Sam Weller-like calmness,
alertness, and good-humour.
Similarly both Leech and Tenniel were in the habit of giving Bright an
eye-glass. "Some of us remember seeing him wear a coat with a stand-up
collar in the House of Commons," said a writer in the "Daily Telegraph,"
"and a broad-brimmed hat; but 'why,' he used to ask with a merry face,
'did _Punch_ always put an eye-glass in _my_ eye? I never wore a single
eye-glass!'" That was just the point; for no doubt the simple reason was
that the addition of a monocle was supposed to lend a sort of rakish
appearance to the solemn Quaker, and belonged to the same genus of
perverse jocularity as that which suggested three hats as the humorous
covering for young Disraeli's head. Mr. W. H. Smith in like manner
genially protested at a complimentary dinner in 1877 against the
liberties taken with his person. "As to _Punch_," he said, "whose
remarks have been mentioned, I beg leave to say that I do not go to sea
in uniform, or exhibit those very queer expressions of face depicted by
_Punch's_ artists."
There are some men whose physiognomies defy the deftest pencils. Such a
one was Cobden, whose views _Punch_ represented far more faithfully and
sympathetically than his face. At the Cobden dinner of 1884 Lord
Carlingford drew fresh attention to the point: "Cobden's was, for some
reason which I never heard explained, a most difficult face to sketch,
and _Punch_ was in despair at the impossibility of producing a
caricature that could be recognised without explanatory text. Many of
the artists tried Cobden, and were floored over him. Leech and Tenniel
both confessed that they could not hit the familiar expression. Somehow,
they never did hit it, though photography came by-and-by to their aid."
The statement is perfectly true, but the reason is not hard to find:
simply that a shaven face, without well-marked features or strong lines
of character, and, above all, without angularities, gives the artist
extremely little to "take hold of." For that reason such faces as those
of Lord Rosebery, Mr. Asquith, and Mr. John Morley (of the latter of
whom Mr. Furniss used to say the true characteristic expression is only
to be found in his red cravat) are as often failures as successes, in
even the skilfullest hands. It is the fault of neither the artist nor
the person misrepresented; according to Mr. Lucy--it is "the act of
God."
Before the days of photography the work of the caricaturist was harder
than it is now. Draughtsmen had to be familiar with the faces of the
leading men of the day--even as Leech was, by "getting them" into their
sketch-books by hook or by crook, or else they would accept the portrait
already published by a brother-artist. Even to-day it sometimes occurs
that a man of importance has not been photographed. In that case he must
be sketched or remembered, or his portrait "faked up" on the block until
it bears some resemblance to the person required. But, passing from mere
portraiture to the realisation of ideas, the artist feels his liberty,
and gives his genius full rein. Thus it is that _Punch_ has always been
happy and successful in his "types." It is thoroughly in the spirit of
caricature that types should be established and adhered to in order to
express, in symbolic form, nations and even ideas. Not only is it
poetical, it is convenient; and has perforce been adopted in every
country where political caricature is employed, though with standards
and notions very different from our own. In Italy, for example, and in a
minor degree in Germany, John Bull, as the symbol of Great Britain, is
usually represented by a travesty of _Punch's_, with a brutal head and
bandy legs, and the whole figure bent in body to suggest a bull, horns
sometimes protruding beside the hat; while Russia is courteously
represented as a frantic Cossack of terrific mien, brandishing a knout
with violent and savage intent. We may claim that our types, as invented
by _Punch_, are of immeasurable superiority, whether of conception or of
realisation. Our John Bull--a lineal descendant probably of Gillray's
favourite representation of George the Third as "Farmer Gearge"--is a
fine noble fellow enough as drawn by Leech and developed by Tenniel;
indeed, in the drawings of the latter may often be seen the idealised
face of Mark Lemon, his jovial Editor.
This view of the type of England has attracted the attention of Ruskin.
"Is it not surely," he asks, "some overruling power in the nature of
things, quite other than the desire of his readers, which compels Mr.
Punch, when the squire, the colonel, and the admiral are to be at once
expressed, together with all that they legislate or fight for, in the
symbolic figure of the nation, to present the incarnate Mr. Bull always
as a farmer--never as a manufacturer or shopkeeper--and to conceive and
exhibit him rather as paymaster for the faults of his neighbours than as
watching for opportunity of gain out of their follies?" And again,
"... considering _Punch_ as the expression of the popular voice, which he
virtually is, and even somewhat obsequiously, is it not wonderful that
he has never a word to say for the British manufacturer, and that the
true citizen of his own city is represented by him only under the types
either of Sir Pompey Bedell or of the more tranquil magnate and
potentate, the bulwark of British constitutional principles and
initiator of British private enterprise, Mr. John Smith?"
[Illustration: MR. GLADSTONE IN "PUNCH."
_(By J. Leech, J. Tenniel, L. Sambourne, and H. Furniss. Re-drawn by
Harry Furniss.)_]
It is true that _Punch_ has imposed upon a nation a character which, as
depicted, is unknown in the land, and placed him in a line of business
notoriously dissimilar from that in which he really engages; and the
sum-total of it all is greatly to the credit of Mr. Punch's influence.
He has, in fact, "educated" a nation. For to this day, no sooner does
each succeeding Wednesday spread the new issue over the country than a
mass of newspapers, both in England and in the colonies, immediately
describe and discuss "This week's cartoon" for the edification of their
readers. And so we have come to accept these types until they have
almost grown into concrete ideas--conventions which have been given to
us chiefly by Sir John Tenniel--Britannia and Father Time, the New Year
and the Old, Cousin Jonathan (or Uncle Sam) and Columbia, Death and
Crime, Starvation and Disease, Peace and War, Justice and Anarchy, the
British Lion (might not the symbol nowadays be more appropriately the
British Racehorse?), the Bengal Tiger, the Russian Bear, the Eagle, and
all the rest. And could they well be bettered?
FOOTNOTES:
[17] it was on Cardinal Wiseman's door, not upon a wall.