"Perhaps there never was an Italian in a foreign country, however deep in trouble, but would drop all remembrance of his sorrows should one of his countrymen present himself with the paraphernalia of Punch at the corner of a street. I was acquainted with an Italian, a philosopher and a man of fortune, residing in England, who found so lively a pleasure in performing Punchinello's little comedy, that, for this purpose, with considerable expense and curiosity, he had his wooden company, in all their costume, sent over from his native place. The shrill squeak of the tin whistle had the same comic effect on him as the notes of the ranz-des-vaches have in awakening the tenderness of domestic emotion in the wandering Swiss. The national genius is dramatic."
Through the joint labors of Mr. George Cruikshank and Mr. Payne Collier, we now know exactly what the Punchian drama is, as performed by the best artists. Mr. Cruikshank explains the truly English process by which this valuable information was obtained:
"Having been engaged by Mr. Prowett, the publisher, to give the various scenes represented in the street performances of Punch and Judy, I obtained the address of the proprietor and performer of that popular exhibition. He was an elderly Italian, of the name of Piccini, whom I remembered from boyhood, and he lived at a low public-house, the sign of 'The King's Arms,' in the 'Coal-yard,' Drury Lane. Having made arrangements for a 'morning performance,' one of the window-frames on the first floor of the public-house was taken out, and the stand, or Punch's theatre, was hauled into the 'Club-room.' Mr. Payne Collier (who was to write the description), the publisher, and myself, formed the audience; and as the performance went on, I stopped it at the most interesting parts to sketch the figures, while Mr. Collier noted down the dialogue; and thus the whole is a faithful copy and description of the various scenes represented by this Italian."
The drama thus obtained, which has since been published with Mr. Cruikshank's illustrations, must at least be pronounced the most popular of all dramatic entertainments past or present. It is now in the thirtieth century of its "run;" and even the modern Italian version dates back to the year 1600. It is a rough, wild caricature of human life.
CHAPTER XXIII.
ENGLISH CARICATURE OF THE PRESENT CENTURY.
James Gillray.
James Gillray, though the favorite caricaturist of London before the beginning of our century, did not reach the full development of his talent until the later extravagancies of Napoleon Bonaparte gave him subjects so richly suggestive of burlesque. Even at this late day, when we have it in our power to know the infinite mischief done to our race by such perjured charlatans as Bonaparte, it is difficult to read some of his bulletins and messages without bursts of laughter—the imitation of known models is so childish, and they reveal so preposterous an ignorance of every thing that the ruler of a civilized country ought to know. After giving London a long series of caricatures of the French Revolution and of the English fermentation that followed it, Gillray fell upon Napoleon, and exhibited the ludicrous aspects of the man and his doings with a comic fertility and effectiveness rarely equaled. True, he knew very little either of the Revolution or of Bonaparte—England knew little—but while all well-informed and humane persons have forgiven the excesses of the Revolutionary period, or laid the blame at the door of the real culprits, the world is coming round to the view of Napoleon Bonaparte which the caricaturist gave seventy years ago. If I were asked to name the best five caricatures produced since Hogarth, one of the five would be James Gillray's "Tiddy-Doll, the Great French Gingerbread Baker drawing out a New Batch of Kings;" and another, a picture by the same artist, "King of Brobdingnag and Gulliver" ridiculing Napoleon's scheme of invading England in 1803. Both are masterpieces of satiric art in what we may justly style the English style; i. e., the style which amuses every body and wounds nobody, not even the person satirized.