The History of "Punch"

by M. H. Spielmann

Still not one word from the "Times" in support of its charge of the exercise of Court influence at the Windsor Election. As usual, however, ... its toadies are active and noisy.... To-day we, of course, find Punch the most abject, probably, of all the "Times" toadies, discharging the duties of its mean avocation in an article libelling the successful candidate, libelling the military, libelling the young gentlemen of Eton, and ascribing Colonel Reid's return to "kitchen-stairs influence" emanating from the Castle..... If there were any fun in the article to which we refer, we might forgive the malice and falsehood, as we are all too much disposed to do, for the joke's sake; but dull as all the articles of Punch have been lately growing, this article on the Windsor Election is the stupidest that we have seen in its columns—a mere display of heavy spitefulness. We should probably have overlooked this piece of impertinence had Punch confined itself to letterpress in its toady vindication of the quarrel of the "Times;" but in the 222nd page of the number which contains the Windsor Election article, there is a disgusting caricature of the Queen and her family, the most false and unjust in what it implies that it is possible to conceive, and the most offensive to the feelings of a mother. The effect of such an insult to a Sovereign the object of her people's respect and love will, we imagine, be different from what the "Times" and its toadies anticipate. At all events, such insults will not, in the absence of all proof, render credible the false allegation of the exercise of Court influence, or enable the "Times" to get rid of our challenge, which we again repeat—this is a point from which we shall not be driven, until we have a direct answer from the "Times" itself, not from its toadies. The Queen may be libelled as the Punch, "Times," and "Examiner" libel her Majesty, if Sir Frederick Thesiger permit; but our Sovereign shall not be belied while we have the power to expose the fabricators of falsehood and their fabrications.

One may well wonder whether the "Standard" was really serious, or only "making believe" in order to strengthen its attack upon the "Times." But it suited Punch to take the outburst seriously, though with provoking calmness. First retorting that it is well that the editress of the "Standard"—he invariably referred to "the editress"—wears pattens as a precaution which the nature of her walks renders very necessary, although they are constantly tripping her up, Punch quietly remarked that "'Our Grandmother' must surely have taken an additional drop of 'something comfortable';" "and Leech parodied Phiz" etching of Mrs. Gamp and Betsy Prig, in which "the editress" declares, "As for that nasty, hojus Punch, I'm dispoged to scratch 'is hi's out a'most. What I ses, I ses; and what I ses, I sticks to." The campaign was conducted with considerable spirit by Gilbert à Beckett and Percival Leigh, with slight assistance from Horace Mayhew; and was continued with remorseless gaiety and bitterness for some years. In the pages here devoted to Thackeray reference is made to the personal feeling which existed between him and the "Morning Post" and to the effective retaliation on the part of that newspaper.

Punch's loyalty, as a matter of fact, has always been above suspicion and above proof. Democrat as he was, and independent in his views, he was as indignant as the "Standard" itself when the half-demented Bean made his attempt upon the Queen's life; yet gleeful to a degree when his Liege Lady was called upon to pay income-tax precisely as all her subjects did. The birth of the Prince of Wales, which coincided with Lord Mayor's Day, provided Punch with an opportunity for showing much loyalty and more wit; and the interest with which he followed the education and amusements of the Heir-Apparent, the anxiety with which he made suggestions for the best appointments, in his nursery-household, to the office of the "Master of the (Rocking) Horse," the "Clerk of the Pea-Shooter," and so forth; the delight with which, by the hand of Leech (1846), he published a charming cartoon of the lad as a man-o'-war's man, thus popularising the dress of English boys, while the sketch itself was widely reproduced as a bronze or plaster group—all this proved the benevolent sentiments he entertained towards the Royal Family. This benevolence has cropped up again and again—when the Prince visited Canada and America (1860); when, in 1861, he went up to Trinity College, Cambridge (the Mayor and Corporation coming in for severe criticism, however, for their snobbish Address); when he married; when he fell ill and recovered; and when he celebrated his Jubilee—on which occasion Punch declared that "the longer he knew him the better he liked him"—a sentiment the genuineness of which could hardly have been questioned by any but the blindest of critics. From first to last Punch has been a respectful godfather, and a wise and kindly guardian.

Towards the Queen herself Punch has shown unswerving chivalry and reverence, even during the shouting days when democracy was more noisily republican than it is to-day. The Queen figures often in the earlier cartoons, and the care with which the draughtsmen sought to do justice to the pure outline of her fair face is at least a tribute to their good taste. Punch never affected to regard her as a mere figurehead, but always represented her in a position of authority, her Ministers in character of domestic servants taking her instructions, and not at all tendering advice; and every important incident in the life of the Queen has been touched upon with the utmost respect and sympathy.

But with the Prince Consort the case was somewhat different. As Mr. Burnand and Mr. Arthur à Beckett have written[21]:—

"It is strange to note that, until the hour of his death, the man whose memory is now universally respected was highly unpopular with the general public. The Democritus of Fleet Street was, and is, essentially representative, and the popular opinion of the merits or demerits of H.R.H. is constantly shown. Only a few weeks after the cartoon" [of the Prince Consort tying up his door-knocker on the occasion of the birth of the Princess Beatrice] "Mr. Punch is drawn looking at the portrait of the Prince Consort at a review at the Royal Academy, and saying, "No. 24. A field-marshal; h'm—very good indeed. What sanguinary engagement can it be?" That these satirical observations were made simply at Prince Albert's expense, and were not intended to reflect upon the Queen or the rest of the Royal Family, is shown by the extremely hearty manner in which the marriage of the Princess Royal was welcomed by Mr. Punch as representing the English feeling. John Bull is heard saying, as he hands over to the Imperial Princess of Germany her dowry, 'There, my child! God bless you! And may you make as good a wife as your mother.'"

It is probable that the real source of the Prince Consort's unpopularity was his foreign nationality, added to the ignorance of the people of his enthusiasm and indefatigable efforts for the public weal. His rapid promotion in military rank, already referred to, was not appreciated in the country, and was mercilessly lampooned in Punch; and attention was attracted to the fact that from that time forward the Duke of Wellington always prefixed the initials "F.M." in his short, brusque third-person letters. "H.R.H. F.M. Paterfamilias" was for some time one of the chief of Punch's stock jests. The Prince was pursued into his private apartments, and shown as a père de famille in not the most respectful spirit. In one picture he is represented in his dressing-gown conferring upon "P—pps the Fortunate" the Knighthood of the Shower Bath; in others, the effect of Time upon his head and figure are dwelt upon with real sardonic relish. The misapprehensions of the public were not unnaturally reflected by Punch, and a cut was much applauded in which the Prince was shown stopped by a policeman in Trafalgar Square when in the act of removing a couple of pictures from the National Gallery. Punch pointedly inquires, "Taking them to Kensington Gore? Suppose you leave 'em where they are, eh?"

More justifiable perhaps, but still somewhat harsh, was Punch's protest (1854) against the Prince's supposed interference in State politics. He is shown skating on the ice, warned off by Mr. Punch from a section of it labelled "Foreign Affairs—Dangerous." And in the same year he is attacked with extraordinary gusto by reason of the new hat he had devised for the British army—or, at least, for the Guards. In 1843 the first "Albert shako" had appeared, and Leech, in a cartoon called "Prince Albert's Studio," exhibited it as a pretended work of art in the most ludicrous light. Again, in 1847 the Prince had invented a similar headgear, popularly christened "the Albert Hat," which Punch converted to his uses and worked to death. "The New Albert Bonnet for the Guards" ridicules the idea unmercifully, and "the British Grenadier as improved by His Royal Highness Prince Albert, decidedly calculated to frighten the Russians," was another grotesque perversion of a praiseworthy attempt with which Mr. Punch was in his heart a good deal in sympathy. For his artists were as diligent as the Prince in trying to improve the uniform of the British soldier, contrasting with its wretched inconvenience the serviceability and ease of the sailor's. The drawing in which a private, half choked by his stock, held helplessly rigid by his straps and buckles, and unable to hold his gun as his "head's coming off!" illustrates the fact that Punch's views and Prince Albert's had much in common. We have the authority of Sir Theodore Martin, in his biography (Vol. II., p. 299), that the Prince Consort took Punch's humours in very good part, and made a large collection of the caricatures of the day, in the belief that in them alone could the true position of a public man be recognised. But it is said that soon after this last crusade a hint was received from Windsor Castle to the effect that a little less personality and a little more justice in respect to the Prince would be appreciated, as much by the people as by the Court. It is certain that after this time the attacks practically came to an end. And when the Prince died, there were few truer mourners in the land, and the widowed Queen had few sincerer sympathisers, than the jester whose raillery had been so keen, and who felt too late a generous remorse.

"It was too soon to die," wrote Shirley Brooks in a poem called, simply, "Albert, December Fourteenth, 1861"—

"It was too soon to die.
Yet, might we count his years by triumphs won,
By wise, and bold, and Christian duties done,
It were no brief eventless history.