Have you been to royal Richmond when the year is growing mellow,And October, mild and fruitful, on its woodland sets her mark,When the footpath—of her bounty—has a carpet red and yellow,And the great harts roar a challenge as the twilight meets the dark,And at half-past five or so,There are lights that flash and glow,Thrilling upward in the quiet out of Kingston down below?
Have you been to royal Richmond when the year is growing mellow,And October, mild and fruitful, on its woodland sets her mark,When the footpath—of her bounty—has a carpet red and yellow,And the great harts roar a challenge as the twilight meets the dark,And at half-past five or so,There are lights that flash and glow,Thrilling upward in the quiet out of Kingston down below?
Have you been to royal Richmond when the year is growing mellow,And October, mild and fruitful, on its woodland sets her mark,When the footpath—of her bounty—has a carpet red and yellow,And the great harts roar a challenge as the twilight meets the dark,And at half-past five or so,There are lights that flash and glow,Thrilling upward in the quiet out of Kingston down below?
Have you been to royal Richmond when the year is growing mellow,
And October, mild and fruitful, on its woodland sets her mark,
When the footpath—of her bounty—has a carpet red and yellow,
And the great harts roar a challenge as the twilight meets the dark,
And at half-past five or so,
There are lights that flash and glow,
Thrilling upward in the quiet out of Kingston down below?
Cartoon, knight attacking nebulus figure"RICHARD THE THIRD" ADAPTEDLondon Smoke(tyrant and murderer): "Methinks there are two Richmonds in the field."(A Mr. Richmond writes toThe Timesin support of the Anti-Smoke campaign of Sir William B. Richmond, K.C.B., R.A.Mr. Punchsays, heartily, "Let 'emallcome, and more power to their elbows!")
"RICHARD THE THIRD" ADAPTED
London Smoke(tyrant and murderer): "Methinks there are two Richmonds in the field."
(A Mr. Richmond writes toThe Timesin support of the Anti-Smoke campaign of Sir William B. Richmond, K.C.B., R.A.Mr. Punchsays, heartily, "Let 'emallcome, and more power to their elbows!")
The End of the Westminster Aquarium
I do not find thatPunchin his record of "disappearances" notes the disuse of hatchments, but he duly chronicles at the close of 1895 the termination of the last of the old turnpike trusts on November 1. "Vanishing London" generally moved him to elegy. Over the Lowther Arcade, which was closed in 1898 by the sale of the Crown lease, he did not waste many tears, and the end of the Westminster Aquarium in January, 1903, did not excite any passionate regret. Still,Punchhad seenmany strange shows and celebrities within its walls—Blondin, Zazel and Zaeo, Slavin and Sullivan, Pongo the Ape, Sandow the strong man, John Roberts the master of the cue; and a certain mitigated melancholy broods overPunchas we watch him
Muse over a pipe of the days that are dead,Dream that once more I am able to scanClosely the bird with the duplicate head,Live once again with the Petrified Man.
Muse over a pipe of the days that are dead,Dream that once more I am able to scanClosely the bird with the duplicate head,Live once again with the Petrified Man.
Muse over a pipe of the days that are dead,Dream that once more I am able to scanClosely the bird with the duplicate head,Live once again with the Petrified Man.
Muse over a pipe of the days that are dead,
Dream that once more I am able to scan
Closely the bird with the duplicate head,
Live once again with the Petrified Man.
It was another matter altogether whenPunchheard that Clifford's Inn was to be pulled down in April of the same year. In his indignation he suggests that the Temple Gardens, Middle Temple Hall and Temple Church should forthwith be sacrificed to the craze for improvements, and continues in the same strain of exaggerated irony:—
If you turn the Charterhouse into a railway station, the Tower into warehouses and Westminster Hall into an Inebriates' Home, something will have been done towards making London a happier and a better place.
If you turn the Charterhouse into a railway station, the Tower into warehouses and Westminster Hall into an Inebriates' Home, something will have been done towards making London a happier and a better place.
Another sign of the times which frequently exercisedPunch'smind and stimulated his satire was the multiplication of huge new hotels. In 1902, when it was announced that St. James's Hall was about to be pulled down to make room for another of these monsters,Punchpictured Macaulay's New Zealander coming to visit London and finding it entirely composed of hotels and residential flats. The luxuryà l'Américaineof these mammoth establishments excitedPunch'sstrictures in 1907; simultaneously he inveighs against the poky and insanitary arrangements of the modern flat.
In earlier yearsPunchhad been prodigal of suggestions for the "improvement" of London; in this period he is more critical than constructive, though I note that in 1904 he reverts to his old suggestion of a great open-aircafé. This, he now proposed, should occupy the ground floor of the Ritz, with aterrasseoverlooking Piccadilly and the Green Park. ButPunchdid not scorn the cheap restaurants, and in one of his "Lays of a Londoner" pays homage to the charms of Soho—a tribute culminating in this admirable stanza:—
Borne on the cosmopolitan breezesDivinely blended odours trickle,The louder forms of foreign cheesesContend against the home-made pickle.
Borne on the cosmopolitan breezesDivinely blended odours trickle,The louder forms of foreign cheesesContend against the home-made pickle.
Borne on the cosmopolitan breezesDivinely blended odours trickle,The louder forms of foreign cheesesContend against the home-made pickle.
Borne on the cosmopolitan breezes
Divinely blended odours trickle,
The louder forms of foreign cheeses
Contend against the home-made pickle.
Cromwell and Carlyle
Smoking chimneys.(Sir William Bull, M.P., is anxious to form in the metropolis a Society for Completing Modern Buildings. "Look," he says, "at the Thames Embankment, with its pediments for sculpture, and not one filled in, except the space which I got occupied by the Boadicea group.")It is hoped that Chelsea, with its Artists' Quarter, will take advantage of the magnificent opportunity offered by the four chimneys of the generating station. Why not an equestrian statue of Carlyle, reading his own works?
(Sir William Bull, M.P., is anxious to form in the metropolis a Society for Completing Modern Buildings. "Look," he says, "at the Thames Embankment, with its pediments for sculpture, and not one filled in, except the space which I got occupied by the Boadicea group.")
It is hoped that Chelsea, with its Artists' Quarter, will take advantage of the magnificent opportunity offered by the four chimneys of the generating station. Why not an equestrian statue of Carlyle, reading his own works?
On the subject of statues and memorialsPunchhad always held strong views; views that by no means ministered to national self-satisfaction. When the question of a statue toCromwell came up once more in 1894,Punchpractically repeated his old cut, with a slight variation of treatment, in "Room for a Big One," Cromwell addressing his Royal rivals, "Now then, your Majesties, I hope I don't intrude." In May, 1895,Punchreturned to the charge in his most truculent anti-monarchical vein:—
ON THE NEW STATUE
("Her Majesty's Government are about to entrust to one of our first sculptors a great historical statue, which has too long been wanting to the series of those who have governed England."—Lord Rosebery at the Royal Academy Banquet.)
Our "Uncrowned King" at last to stand'Midst the legitimate Lord's anointed?How will they shrink, that sacred band,Dismayed, disgusted, disappointed!TheparvenuProtector thrustAmidst the true Porphyrogeniti?How will it stir right royal dust!The mutton-eating King's amenityWere hardly proof against this slur.William the thief, Rufus the bully,The traitor John, and James the cur—Their royal purple how 'twill sullyTo rub against the brewer's buff!Harry, old Mother Church's glory,Meet this Conventicler?—Enough!The Butcher dimmed not England's story,But rather brightened her renownIn camp and court, it must be said,And if he did not win a crown,At least he neverlost his head!
Our "Uncrowned King" at last to stand'Midst the legitimate Lord's anointed?How will they shrink, that sacred band,Dismayed, disgusted, disappointed!TheparvenuProtector thrustAmidst the true Porphyrogeniti?How will it stir right royal dust!The mutton-eating King's amenityWere hardly proof against this slur.William the thief, Rufus the bully,The traitor John, and James the cur—Their royal purple how 'twill sullyTo rub against the brewer's buff!Harry, old Mother Church's glory,Meet this Conventicler?—Enough!The Butcher dimmed not England's story,But rather brightened her renownIn camp and court, it must be said,And if he did not win a crown,At least he neverlost his head!
Our "Uncrowned King" at last to stand'Midst the legitimate Lord's anointed?How will they shrink, that sacred band,Dismayed, disgusted, disappointed!TheparvenuProtector thrustAmidst the true Porphyrogeniti?How will it stir right royal dust!The mutton-eating King's amenityWere hardly proof against this slur.William the thief, Rufus the bully,The traitor John, and James the cur—Their royal purple how 'twill sullyTo rub against the brewer's buff!Harry, old Mother Church's glory,Meet this Conventicler?—Enough!The Butcher dimmed not England's story,But rather brightened her renownIn camp and court, it must be said,And if he did not win a crown,At least he neverlost his head!
Our "Uncrowned King" at last to stand
'Midst the legitimate Lord's anointed?
How will they shrink, that sacred band,
Dismayed, disgusted, disappointed!
TheparvenuProtector thrust
Amidst the true Porphyrogeniti?
How will it stir right royal dust!
The mutton-eating King's amenity
Were hardly proof against this slur.
William the thief, Rufus the bully,
The traitor John, and James the cur—
Their royal purple how 'twill sully
To rub against the brewer's buff!
Harry, old Mother Church's glory,
Meet this Conventicler?—Enough!
The Butcher dimmed not England's story,
But rather brightened her renown
In camp and court, it must be said,
And if he did not win a crown,
At least he neverlost his head!
Punch'sacid remark made many years before, that we were incapable of producing a fine statue or memorial, is virtually repeated in his suggestion, made in 1896, for the formation of a "Metropolitan Statues Supply Association" for the purpose of supplying public statues and monuments on the hire system. There was certainly good excuse for the burlesque, for, asPunchreminds us, "Mr. Akers-Douglas, replying to Mr. Labouchere as to whether his attention had been called to a statue 'purporting to be of the late Mr. John Bright in the Central Lobby,' and whether it is to remain there, said that it was erected under arrangements made with his predecessors. He admitted that there were very varied views as to its artistic merits."
National Heroes and their Memorials
In 1902 the fall of the Campanile of St. Mark's at Veniceprompts a Trafalgar Square Lion to remark: "I only wish some of our London monuments would come down as easily." In an earlier volume I have mentionedPunch'sreiterated complaints of the time taken in completing the Nelson Memorial in Trafalgar Square. In 1903, after fifty years had elapsed, the monument to the Duke of Wellington in St. Paul's was still unfinished.Punchdealt faithfully with this discreditable delay in a caustic perversion of Tennyson's ode, "Bury the Great Duke," and a cartoon in which, under the heading "Ars (Britannica) Longa," Napoleon, hearing from his victor that his monument is approaching completion, sarcastically comments, "Déjà?"
On the question of burials in Westminster Abbey, it may here be added,Punchwas clearly not satisfied with the arrangement which left the Dean as the chief arbiter, when he wrote in the summer of 1909:—
For whom shall England's high memorial faneOffer a resting-place of hallowed stoneWhen they have nobly lived their destined span?The nation speaks her choice, but speaks in vain;The final verdict lies with one alone—A Mr. Robinson, a clergyman.
For whom shall England's high memorial faneOffer a resting-place of hallowed stoneWhen they have nobly lived their destined span?The nation speaks her choice, but speaks in vain;The final verdict lies with one alone—A Mr. Robinson, a clergyman.
For whom shall England's high memorial faneOffer a resting-place of hallowed stoneWhen they have nobly lived their destined span?The nation speaks her choice, but speaks in vain;The final verdict lies with one alone—A Mr. Robinson, a clergyman.
For whom shall England's high memorial fane
Offer a resting-place of hallowed stone
When they have nobly lived their destined span?
The nation speaks her choice, but speaks in vain;
The final verdict lies with one alone—
A Mr. Robinson, a clergyman.
The "Mr. Robinson," thus disparagingly referred to, was that learned divine, Dean of Westminster from 1902 to 1911, and since then Dean of Wells. It should therefore be remembered that he was Dean of Westminster when Irving was buried in the Abbey.
Horse-bus driver talking to passengersDriver(approaching Hyde Park Corner and pointing out the sights to country visitors): "On the left's the statute erected to the memory of the great Dook o' Wellington, and that 'ere on the right's a statute erected to the memory of the pore ole 'oss-'buses wot's bin run orf the street by them stinkin' motors."
Driver(approaching Hyde Park Corner and pointing out the sights to country visitors): "On the left's the statute erected to the memory of the great Dook o' Wellington, and that 'ere on the right's a statute erected to the memory of the pore ole 'oss-'buses wot's bin run orf the street by them stinkin' motors."
"Our Robert"
Mention has already been made of the widening of the Mall as part of the Queen Victoria Memorial. Brock's statue and monumental group were pronounced byPunchin 1911 "worthy of a great Queen and a great City," an acknowledgment truly remarkable in one so chary of approval. Captain Adrian Jones's Peace "Quadriga" on Constitution Hill prompted a burlesque alternative design in 1908, with "four typical pedestrians rampant and a motor-car urgent." In 1912 an old lady is seen asking a policeman, "Isthatwhat they call the Quadruped, officer?" and the obliging Robert replies, "Yes,Mum; all except the lady." Towards "Robert," by the way,Punchwas in the main sympathetic and appreciative throughout this period, and in one of the "Lays of a Londoner" pays a generous tribute to the benevolent autocrat of the highway:—
In vain the dray-horse paws the air,The flow of low abuse grows brisker;He never turns an injured hair,Or lifts a deprecating whisker,For he knows well enough that theyMay gibe, but dare not disobey!Whether in dark, secluded walksHe flouts the schemes that bad men work us;Or maiden ladies, screaming "Lawks!"Hang on his neck in Oxford Circus;His mien displays an abstract calmThat soothes the fractured nerves like balm.Who spoors the burglar's nimble feet,And spots the three-card man's devices?Who hales before the judgment seatThe vendor of unwholesome ices?Who's apt at any time to have hisComplexion spoiled by hob-nailed navvies?It is indeed our Robert, or,As some prefer to say, our "Bobby";The civil servant, paid to floorThe wiles of those who'd kill or rob 'ee;Who keeps our premises secure,Our butter and our morals pure.And when we hear of fresh alarms,Of bombs and mutiny and massacre,Of citizens dispersed by arms,In countries where such things, alas! occur,Well may we urge our Robert's claimAlike to gratitude and fame.
In vain the dray-horse paws the air,The flow of low abuse grows brisker;He never turns an injured hair,Or lifts a deprecating whisker,For he knows well enough that theyMay gibe, but dare not disobey!Whether in dark, secluded walksHe flouts the schemes that bad men work us;Or maiden ladies, screaming "Lawks!"Hang on his neck in Oxford Circus;His mien displays an abstract calmThat soothes the fractured nerves like balm.Who spoors the burglar's nimble feet,And spots the three-card man's devices?Who hales before the judgment seatThe vendor of unwholesome ices?Who's apt at any time to have hisComplexion spoiled by hob-nailed navvies?It is indeed our Robert, or,As some prefer to say, our "Bobby";The civil servant, paid to floorThe wiles of those who'd kill or rob 'ee;Who keeps our premises secure,Our butter and our morals pure.And when we hear of fresh alarms,Of bombs and mutiny and massacre,Of citizens dispersed by arms,In countries where such things, alas! occur,Well may we urge our Robert's claimAlike to gratitude and fame.
In vain the dray-horse paws the air,The flow of low abuse grows brisker;He never turns an injured hair,Or lifts a deprecating whisker,For he knows well enough that theyMay gibe, but dare not disobey!
In vain the dray-horse paws the air,
The flow of low abuse grows brisker;
He never turns an injured hair,
Or lifts a deprecating whisker,
For he knows well enough that they
May gibe, but dare not disobey!
Whether in dark, secluded walksHe flouts the schemes that bad men work us;Or maiden ladies, screaming "Lawks!"Hang on his neck in Oxford Circus;His mien displays an abstract calmThat soothes the fractured nerves like balm.
Whether in dark, secluded walks
He flouts the schemes that bad men work us;
Or maiden ladies, screaming "Lawks!"
Hang on his neck in Oxford Circus;
His mien displays an abstract calm
That soothes the fractured nerves like balm.
Who spoors the burglar's nimble feet,And spots the three-card man's devices?Who hales before the judgment seatThe vendor of unwholesome ices?Who's apt at any time to have hisComplexion spoiled by hob-nailed navvies?
Who spoors the burglar's nimble feet,
And spots the three-card man's devices?
Who hales before the judgment seat
The vendor of unwholesome ices?
Who's apt at any time to have his
Complexion spoiled by hob-nailed navvies?
It is indeed our Robert, or,As some prefer to say, our "Bobby";The civil servant, paid to floorThe wiles of those who'd kill or rob 'ee;Who keeps our premises secure,Our butter and our morals pure.
It is indeed our Robert, or,
As some prefer to say, our "Bobby";
The civil servant, paid to floor
The wiles of those who'd kill or rob 'ee;
Who keeps our premises secure,
Our butter and our morals pure.
And when we hear of fresh alarms,Of bombs and mutiny and massacre,Of citizens dispersed by arms,In countries where such things, alas! occur,Well may we urge our Robert's claimAlike to gratitude and fame.
And when we hear of fresh alarms,
Of bombs and mutiny and massacre,
Of citizens dispersed by arms,
In countries where such things, alas! occur,
Well may we urge our Robert's claim
Alike to gratitude and fame.
This is a fairly comprehensive summary of the multifarious activities of one who is, or, at any rate, was up to the end of 1918, more of an institution than a man.
Though he lived in or just off Fleet Street,Punchkept an eye on the growth of the charms of Greater London. In 1907 he printed his "Song of Six Suburbs (after Mr. Rudyard Kipling)":—
BRIXTON
Though far outside the radius you roam,Where shall a fairer prospect meet the eyes?Brand-new, like Aphrodite from the foam,The homes of Brixton Rise.
Though far outside the radius you roam,Where shall a fairer prospect meet the eyes?Brand-new, like Aphrodite from the foam,The homes of Brixton Rise.
Though far outside the radius you roam,Where shall a fairer prospect meet the eyes?Brand-new, like Aphrodite from the foam,The homes of Brixton Rise.
Though far outside the radius you roam,
Where shall a fairer prospect meet the eyes?
Brand-new, like Aphrodite from the foam,
The homes of Brixton Rise.
TOOTING
Supreme am I, Suburbia's guiding star,And when I speak let lesser tongues be dumb;The prefix "Upper" shows the class we are;Where Tooting beckons, Come!
Supreme am I, Suburbia's guiding star,And when I speak let lesser tongues be dumb;The prefix "Upper" shows the class we are;Where Tooting beckons, Come!
Supreme am I, Suburbia's guiding star,And when I speak let lesser tongues be dumb;The prefix "Upper" shows the class we are;Where Tooting beckons, Come!
Supreme am I, Suburbia's guiding star,
And when I speak let lesser tongues be dumb;
The prefix "Upper" shows the class we are;
Where Tooting beckons, Come!
HAMPSTEAD
Upon your North-West Passage scale my heights,And mark the joyous crowds that sport beneath;Men call me "Happy": O the strange delights,The dalliance on my Heath!
Upon your North-West Passage scale my heights,And mark the joyous crowds that sport beneath;Men call me "Happy": O the strange delights,The dalliance on my Heath!
Upon your North-West Passage scale my heights,And mark the joyous crowds that sport beneath;Men call me "Happy": O the strange delights,The dalliance on my Heath!
Upon your North-West Passage scale my heights,
And mark the joyous crowds that sport beneath;
Men call me "Happy": O the strange delights,
The dalliance on my Heath!
PECKHAM
A peaceful calm envelops every street,And like an old-world idyll life drifts by;Where else such courtly couples shall you meetA-comin' thro' the Rye?
A peaceful calm envelops every street,And like an old-world idyll life drifts by;Where else such courtly couples shall you meetA-comin' thro' the Rye?
A peaceful calm envelops every street,And like an old-world idyll life drifts by;Where else such courtly couples shall you meetA-comin' thro' the Rye?
A peaceful calm envelops every street,
And like an old-world idyll life drifts by;
Where else such courtly couples shall you meet
A-comin' thro' the Rye?
CLAPHAM
Unto my yoke my stalwarts meekly bend:Daily, between the hours of 8 and 9,To dare worse horrors than the Pit I sendSons of the Chatham line!
Unto my yoke my stalwarts meekly bend:Daily, between the hours of 8 and 9,To dare worse horrors than the Pit I sendSons of the Chatham line!
Unto my yoke my stalwarts meekly bend:Daily, between the hours of 8 and 9,To dare worse horrors than the Pit I sendSons of the Chatham line!
Unto my yoke my stalwarts meekly bend:
Daily, between the hours of 8 and 9,
To dare worse horrors than the Pit I send
Sons of the Chatham line!
EALING
"Last, loveliest, exquisite," I give to thoseCivilian warriors from India rest;What suburb boasts the dignified reposeThat clings to Ealing, W.?
"Last, loveliest, exquisite," I give to thoseCivilian warriors from India rest;What suburb boasts the dignified reposeThat clings to Ealing, W.?
"Last, loveliest, exquisite," I give to thoseCivilian warriors from India rest;What suburb boasts the dignified reposeThat clings to Ealing, W.?
"Last, loveliest, exquisite," I give to those
Civilian warriors from India rest;
What suburb boasts the dignified repose
That clings to Ealing, W.?
Later on the garden suburb is a frequent theme of genial comment and satire based on first-hand observation, for the late Mr. F. H. Townsend was a resident in Golder's Green, and his ingenious pencil found ample scope in the amenities and humours of the newRus in Urbe. Another "garden" that had provokedPunchto less favourable comment in earlier years—Covent Garden—was still a source of dissatisfaction as late as 1904. When John Hollingshead died in the autumn of that year,Punch, in his obituary notice of the manager of the Gaiety Theatre, revealed the fact that "his was the dauntless hand that, underMr. Punch'sbanner, attacked 'Mud Salad Market' many years ago." If the present condition of Covent Garden market is not exactly ideal, at any rate it does not justify the censures passed on it seventeen years ago as still blocking traffic with congested muck.
Cartoon, representing London studying it's history.A LADY WITH A PASTLondon(in her new Museum at Kensington Palace): "Bless my soul, what a life I've led!"
A LADY WITH A PAST
London(in her new Museum at Kensington Palace): "Bless my soul, what a life I've led!"
In 1912 the London Museum was opened at Kensington Palace, andPunch, in a commemorative cartoon, showedLondon as an old lady examining the cases of the Roman, Saxon and Norman periods. "Bless my soul," she says, "what a life I've led!" AndPunchwas often more interested in the life she had led than in that she was leading or was about to lead. Her future, as outlined by Sir Aston Webb in January, 1914, seemed to him a charming but somewhat visionary prospect:—
Meanwhile this London is my place;Sad though her dirt, as I admit is,I love the dear unconscious graceThat shines beneath her sooty faceBetter than all your well-groomed cities.
Meanwhile this London is my place;Sad though her dirt, as I admit is,I love the dear unconscious graceThat shines beneath her sooty faceBetter than all your well-groomed cities.
Meanwhile this London is my place;Sad though her dirt, as I admit is,I love the dear unconscious graceThat shines beneath her sooty faceBetter than all your well-groomed cities.
Meanwhile this London is my place;
Sad though her dirt, as I admit is,
I love the dear unconscious grace
That shines beneath her sooty face
Better than all your well-groomed cities.
[6]Charles Tyson Yerkes, the American financier who, after a chequered early life, became a railway magnate and took a leading part in organizing and financing the London electrical railways.
[6]Charles Tyson Yerkes, the American financier who, after a chequered early life, became a railway magnate and took a leading part in organizing and financing the London electrical railways.
PART II
SOCIAL LIFE IN TRANSITION
In a period of change and transition, in which the decline of the influence of the old "governing classes" was attended by the rise of a new type of statesman, the stability of the throne and the prestige of the Sovereign remained unshaken; the veneration in which the old Queen was held in the last ten years of her reign was based on a respect which rendered her almost invulnerable to criticism.Punch, who in earlier years had appropriated therôleand privileges of the Court Jester, and in the middle Victorian period had frankly regretted the Queen's long seclusion, never alludes to her in the closing years of her reign save in a spirit of gratitude and chivalrous devotion. We hear no more of the "Royal Recluse," for the phrase no longer applied to one who in advanced years was strenuous in the discharge of her duties. There is a pleasant story that when the Queen was informed that she had reigned longer than any of her predecessors, she said: "Have I done well?" andPunchsupplied the answer:—
"Have I done well?" Most gracious Queen,Look on the record of your life;Think of What is, What might have been.Empress of Peace 'mid constant strife!
"Have I done well?" Most gracious Queen,Look on the record of your life;Think of What is, What might have been.Empress of Peace 'mid constant strife!
"Have I done well?" Most gracious Queen,Look on the record of your life;Think of What is, What might have been.Empress of Peace 'mid constant strife!
"Have I done well?" Most gracious Queen,
Look on the record of your life;
Think of What is, What might have been.
Empress of Peace 'mid constant strife!
The last year of her reign was sadly clouded by the uncertainties of the South African war, and she paid the inevitable penalty of those who live to fourscore by surviving many of those who were nearest to her; but age brought her consolations as well. The marriage of the Duke of York in 1893 inspiredPunchwith a genial ode, full of classical tags and headed "Hymen Hymenæe!" He would not "trill a fulsome lay," but contented himself with showing "good will to goodness," typified in his cartoon of the royal pair seated on a Lion led byPunchwith a bridle of roses. A year later the birth of the presentPrince of Wales, Queen Victoria's great-grandson, is celebrated by an ingenious adaptation of Shakespeare:—
Now is the Winter of our discontentMade glorious by thisSonof York.
Now is the Winter of our discontentMade glorious by thisSonof York.
Now is the Winter of our discontentMade glorious by thisSonof York.
Now is the Winter of our discontent
Made glorious by thisSonof York.
A Duke and a lady talking.A BORN LEGISLATOR"Do you often attend the sittings in the House of Lords, Duke?""I did once—if I remember, to vote against some measure of Mr. Gladstone's—but I caught a bad cold there, so I never went again!"
A BORN LEGISLATOR
"Do you often attend the sittings in the House of Lords, Duke?"
"I did once—if I remember, to vote against some measure of Mr. Gladstone's—but I caught a bad cold there, so I never went again!"
The customary official congratulations of Parliament did not escape a protest from Mr. Keir Hardie, who was "indisposed to associate himself with any effort to do special honour to the Royal family," though he was "delighted to learn that the infant was a fairly healthy one." This unfortunately-worded concession only served to exasperate the loyalists, andPunchdrew a picture of Mr. Hardie, in his deer-stalker cap, severely apostrophizing the royal infant in his cradle.A proposof the Prince's seven names, it may be added thatPunchnoted the inclusion of all the four patron saints of the United Kingdom—George, Andrew, Patrick and David—a choice which, as he put it, ought to help him to dodge ill luck in after years.
Lady speaking to two boys.A YOUNG REPUBLICANLittle Lord Charles: "Oh,I'mgoing to be anOmnibus Conductor, whenIgrow up."Fair American: "But your brother's going to be aDuke, isn't he?"L. L. C.: "Ah, yes; but that's about all he'sfitfor, you know!"
A YOUNG REPUBLICAN
Little Lord Charles: "Oh,I'mgoing to be anOmnibus Conductor, whenIgrow up."
Fair American: "But your brother's going to be aDuke, isn't he?"
L. L. C.: "Ah, yes; but that's about all he'sfitfor, you know!"
Punch on the Duke of Cambridge
No charge of courtiership, however, could be brought againstPunchfor his treatment of the question of the retirement of the Duke of Cambridge in 1895 from the post of Commander-in-Chief. In "All the Difference" Lord Wolseley is shown saying to the Duke: "In September I have to retire from my appointment," and the Duke replies, "Dear me!Ihaven't." The same idea is developed in some satirical verses glorifying the "Spirit of Eld," which was allowed to dominate the conduct of high affairs of State. But when the Duke did go in November,Punchwas more gracious. His "parting salute," put into the mouth of Tommy Atkins, forms a friendly gloss on what Lord Wolseley had said in his first Army order; and when the Duke died in 1904,Punch'sfour-line tribute is a model of laconic and judicial appreciation:—
The years that saw old customs changed to newStill left his spirit changeless to the end,Who served his kindred's Throne a long life throughAnd died, as he had lived, the soldier's friend.
The years that saw old customs changed to newStill left his spirit changeless to the end,Who served his kindred's Throne a long life throughAnd died, as he had lived, the soldier's friend.
The years that saw old customs changed to newStill left his spirit changeless to the end,Who served his kindred's Throne a long life throughAnd died, as he had lived, the soldier's friend.
The years that saw old customs changed to new
Still left his spirit changeless to the end,
Who served his kindred's Throne a long life through
And died, as he had lived, the soldier's friend.
Modern Royal Annals are largely made up of "marriage and death and division," and laureates, unofficial as well as official,are largely concerned with the two former. The death of Prince Henry of Battenberg from fever incurred while on active service in Ashanti in 1896 enabledPunchto pay decorous and not extravagant homage to the "servant of duty." He had a much better theme in the death of the Prince's brilliant and ill-starred brother Alexander, in 1893, and the verses are not unworthy of one who was too great a gentleman to be a successful adventurer:—
Europe's Prince Charming, lion-like, born to dare,Betrayed by the black treacherous Northern Bear!Soldier successful vainly, patriot foiled,Wooer discomfited, and hero spoiled!Triumphant champion of Slivnitza's field,To sordid treachery yet doomed to yield.An age more chivalrous you should have seen,When brutal brokers, and when bagmen keenShamed not the sword and blunted not the lance.Then had you been true Hero of Romance.
Europe's Prince Charming, lion-like, born to dare,Betrayed by the black treacherous Northern Bear!Soldier successful vainly, patriot foiled,Wooer discomfited, and hero spoiled!Triumphant champion of Slivnitza's field,To sordid treachery yet doomed to yield.An age more chivalrous you should have seen,When brutal brokers, and when bagmen keenShamed not the sword and blunted not the lance.Then had you been true Hero of Romance.
Europe's Prince Charming, lion-like, born to dare,Betrayed by the black treacherous Northern Bear!Soldier successful vainly, patriot foiled,Wooer discomfited, and hero spoiled!Triumphant champion of Slivnitza's field,To sordid treachery yet doomed to yield.An age more chivalrous you should have seen,When brutal brokers, and when bagmen keenShamed not the sword and blunted not the lance.Then had you been true Hero of Romance.
Europe's Prince Charming, lion-like, born to dare,
Betrayed by the black treacherous Northern Bear!
Soldier successful vainly, patriot foiled,
Wooer discomfited, and hero spoiled!
Triumphant champion of Slivnitza's field,
To sordid treachery yet doomed to yield.
An age more chivalrous you should have seen,
When brutal brokers, and when bagmen keen
Shamed not the sword and blunted not the lance.
Then had you been true Hero of Romance.
The coronation of the Tsar Nicholas in 1896 is chronicled in the cartoon in which Peace says to him: "I was your father's friend—let me be yours," and his visit to Balmoral suggests another variation on the same theme. Under the heading "Blessed are the Peacemakers," Nicholas is seen taking an affectionate farewell of the Queen. Ten years laterPunchwas to realize how vain were the dreams of good will when hampered by infirmity of purpose. For the moment, however, the pleasures and pastimes of Royalty were more in evidence. The Prince of Wales was alleged to have taken to bicycling, andPunch, still wedded to an old habit, proposed the new title of "the Prince of Wheels." The Prince is also congratulated on winning his first Derby with Persimmon, and encouraged to pay no attention to the Nonconformist stalwarts of Rochdale and Heywood who had begged him to abandon racing and withdraw from the turf. When Princess Maud of Wales was married to Prince Charles of Denmark,Punchwas not content with a loyal cartoon and a suitable Shakespearean quotation. He seized the opportunity to combine humanitarianism with allegiance to the throne by issuing a Plea for the Birds to theWomen of England—begging them to discontinue the wearing of egret plumes on this and every other occasion.
Tributes to the Queen in the year of her Diamond Jubilee are unqualified in their admiration. Perhaps the most hearty and impressive, if not the most polished, is the "Song Imperial" printed in June:—
Stand up England, land of toil and duty,In your smoking cities, in your hamlets green;Stand up England, land of love and beauty,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!Stand up Scotland, up Wales and Ireland,Loyal to her royalty, crowd upon the scene;Stand up, all of us, we who are the sire-land,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!Stand up ye Colonies, the joy-cry reaches you,Near lands, far lands, lands that lie between;Where the sun bronzes you, where the frost bleaches you,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!Stand up all! Yes, princes, nobles, peoples,All the mighty Empire—mightier ne'er hath been;Boom from your decks and towers, clang from all your steeplesGod save Victoria, God save the Queen!Why not? Has she not ever loved and served us,Royal to us, loyal to us, gracious ever been?Ne'er in peace betrayed us, ne'er in war unnerv'd us;Up, then, shout out, God save the Queen!But now our sun descends, from the zenith westward,Westward and downward, of all mortals seen;Yet may the long day lengthen, though the fall be rest-ward,May we long together cry, God save the Queen!When in the coming-time, 'neath the dim ocean line,Our dear sun shall sink in the wave serene,Tears will fill these eyes of mine, tears will fill those eyes of thine,Lowly kneeling, all will pray, God save the Queen!
Stand up England, land of toil and duty,In your smoking cities, in your hamlets green;Stand up England, land of love and beauty,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!Stand up Scotland, up Wales and Ireland,Loyal to her royalty, crowd upon the scene;Stand up, all of us, we who are the sire-land,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!Stand up ye Colonies, the joy-cry reaches you,Near lands, far lands, lands that lie between;Where the sun bronzes you, where the frost bleaches you,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!Stand up all! Yes, princes, nobles, peoples,All the mighty Empire—mightier ne'er hath been;Boom from your decks and towers, clang from all your steeplesGod save Victoria, God save the Queen!Why not? Has she not ever loved and served us,Royal to us, loyal to us, gracious ever been?Ne'er in peace betrayed us, ne'er in war unnerv'd us;Up, then, shout out, God save the Queen!But now our sun descends, from the zenith westward,Westward and downward, of all mortals seen;Yet may the long day lengthen, though the fall be rest-ward,May we long together cry, God save the Queen!When in the coming-time, 'neath the dim ocean line,Our dear sun shall sink in the wave serene,Tears will fill these eyes of mine, tears will fill those eyes of thine,Lowly kneeling, all will pray, God save the Queen!
Stand up England, land of toil and duty,In your smoking cities, in your hamlets green;Stand up England, land of love and beauty,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!
Stand up England, land of toil and duty,
In your smoking cities, in your hamlets green;
Stand up England, land of love and beauty,
Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!
Stand up Scotland, up Wales and Ireland,Loyal to her royalty, crowd upon the scene;Stand up, all of us, we who are the sire-land,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!
Stand up Scotland, up Wales and Ireland,
Loyal to her royalty, crowd upon the scene;
Stand up, all of us, we who are the sire-land,
Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!
Stand up ye Colonies, the joy-cry reaches you,Near lands, far lands, lands that lie between;Where the sun bronzes you, where the frost bleaches you,Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!
Stand up ye Colonies, the joy-cry reaches you,
Near lands, far lands, lands that lie between;
Where the sun bronzes you, where the frost bleaches you,
Stand up, shout out, God save the Queen!
Stand up all! Yes, princes, nobles, peoples,All the mighty Empire—mightier ne'er hath been;Boom from your decks and towers, clang from all your steeplesGod save Victoria, God save the Queen!
Stand up all! Yes, princes, nobles, peoples,
All the mighty Empire—mightier ne'er hath been;
Boom from your decks and towers, clang from all your steeples
God save Victoria, God save the Queen!
Why not? Has she not ever loved and served us,Royal to us, loyal to us, gracious ever been?Ne'er in peace betrayed us, ne'er in war unnerv'd us;Up, then, shout out, God save the Queen!
Why not? Has she not ever loved and served us,
Royal to us, loyal to us, gracious ever been?
Ne'er in peace betrayed us, ne'er in war unnerv'd us;
Up, then, shout out, God save the Queen!
But now our sun descends, from the zenith westward,Westward and downward, of all mortals seen;Yet may the long day lengthen, though the fall be rest-ward,May we long together cry, God save the Queen!
But now our sun descends, from the zenith westward,
Westward and downward, of all mortals seen;
Yet may the long day lengthen, though the fall be rest-ward,
May we long together cry, God save the Queen!
When in the coming-time, 'neath the dim ocean line,Our dear sun shall sink in the wave serene,Tears will fill these eyes of mine, tears will fill those eyes of thine,Lowly kneeling, all will pray, God save the Queen!
When in the coming-time, 'neath the dim ocean line,
Our dear sun shall sink in the wave serene,
Tears will fill these eyes of mine, tears will fill those eyes of thine,
Lowly kneeling, all will pray, God save the Queen!
Jubilee Tributes
In his "Jubilee Celebrator'sVade Mecum"Punchdid not spare criticism of the arrangements and the profiteering ofspeculators in seats. Yet with all deductions and drawbacks the Jubilee "was a gigantic success, for it has shown that a quarter of the world loves and appreciates a blameless Queen, and rejoices to be her subjects." The visit of the Duke and Duchess of York to Ireland in July prompts the usual cartoon attributing to Erin the familiar suggestion of a Royal residence in Ireland, a cure for discontent whichPunchwas never weary of prescribing. Queen Victoria's eightieth birthday fell in 1899, and in the same number in whichPunchwelcomes the anniversary he indulges in an unflattering pictorial comment on "Imperial Bruin" breathing forth compliments and pacific professions while carrying on dangerous intrigues in the Far East. Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught, had renounced the succession to the Dukedom of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha in the lifetime of his brother, the Duke of Edinburgh, who had succeeded to the title in 1893.Punchin 1899 congratulated the Duke of Connaught on a decision the wisdom of which was amply justified in the sequel. HerePunchmade no claims to prophecy: he merely showed the Duke of Connaught waving aside the proffered honour and gave as his motto Gilbert's often-quoted lines:—
In spite of all temptationsTo belong to other nations,He remains an Englishman.
In spite of all temptationsTo belong to other nations,He remains an Englishman.
In spite of all temptationsTo belong to other nations,He remains an Englishman.
In spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations,
He remains an Englishman.
Punch'slines on the death of the Duke of Edinburgh in the following year attain to a positively "lapidary" excellence in their discretion and brevity:—
Summoned to lordship in a stranger land,He left his English birthright of the main,Now, swiftly touched by Death's restoring hand,He is the Queen's again.
Summoned to lordship in a stranger land,He left his English birthright of the main,Now, swiftly touched by Death's restoring hand,He is the Queen's again.
Summoned to lordship in a stranger land,He left his English birthright of the main,Now, swiftly touched by Death's restoring hand,He is the Queen's again.
Summoned to lordship in a stranger land,
He left his English birthright of the main,
Now, swiftly touched by Death's restoring hand,
He is the Queen's again.
The cartoon which linked Italy with Britannia as "Sisters in Sorrow"—King Humbert had been assassinated two days before the death of the Duke of Edinburgh—strikes the ceremonial and conventional note avoided in the epitaph quoted above, and noticeable in the cartoon prompted by the Queen's visit to Ireland earlier in the year.
Duke and Duchess on a magic carpet.THE MAGIC CARPET(Wishing "Godspeed" to the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and York, who are starting for Australia.)
THE MAGIC CARPET
(Wishing "Godspeed" to the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and York, who are starting for Australia.)
To 1900 also belongs the first appearance in aPunchcartoon of the ex-Crown Prince of Germany. In consonance with German Court tradition he was now about to learn a trade, and as his tastes were said to lie in the direction of typography,Punchoffers to take him on as a printing apprentice.
I have spoken elsewhere of the death of Queen Victoria in 1901; for it was a great deal more than an event in Court history; it marked the end of an era.Punch, in a commemorative number, reprinted a great many of his cartoons, good and bad, but omitting the disparaging or satirical pictures to which reference has been made in previous volumes; but even with this limitation, the collection is a valuable contribution to the pictorial history of our times. In discussing the National MemorialPunchmakes Art express the pious hope that London will get something worthy of a great city and a great Queen, and, as we have seen, in later years he acknowledged that she had done so. The start of the Duke and Duchess of York for their visit to Australia in March forms the theme of the pleasant fantasy reproduced on the preceding page.
In August the Empress Frederick of Germany, the most highly placed, the most gifted, and the most ill-starred of the Queen's daughters, followed her mother to the grave. HerePunch'stribute, in which Germany and England figure as chief mourners, does not represent the hard facts, and overlooks the bitter antagonism of Bismarck to "the Liberal English woman," as he called her, her failure to inspire affection in the German nation, and the estrangement of her meteoric son. ButPunch'sattitude was natural, for the Kaiser's visit to Osborne during Queen Victoria's last illness had touched the heart of England; and the description of the Empress Frederick as "gentle, brave and wise" was a venial misreading of the character of one whose fortitude, intrepidity and intellectual gifts were beyond question, but whose individuality was too pronounced to accommodate itself to her political surroundings.
Cartoon, man and woman on a horse.FELICIDADES!(After the well-known picture by Velazquez in the Museo del Prado, Madrid. WithMr. Punch'srespectful congratulations to their Majesties of Spain.)
FELICIDADES!
(After the well-known picture by Velazquez in the Museo del Prado, Madrid. WithMr. Punch'srespectful congratulations to their Majesties of Spain.)
Coronation Humours
The preparations for the crowning of King Edward furnishedPunchwith material for a display of abundant good will to the Sovereign, tempered by an explosion of irresponsiblefrivolity. In the "Overflow Fête," designed byPunchas "Bouverie King of Arms," he seized the opportunity of making game of all his favourite butts. A court of "overflow claims" considers the applications of Lord Halsbury, Sir J. Blundell Maple, Mr. Gibson Bowles, "Brer Fuchs" (Emil Fuchs, an Austrian artist much in Court favour but heavily derided by art critics), Mr. G. B. Shaw, Mr. Alfred Austin the Poet Laureate, and many others. Most of their alleged claims are declined, but a few exceptions are made, as, for example, that in favour of Mr. G. R. Sims being allowed to supply the fountains in Trafalgar Square with "Tatcho." A procession ofemblematic cars is mainly satirical, and includes a "sleeping car" typical of British industry. The programme of the Gala Performance at the National Opera House introduces Dan Leno, and includes a masque of "Poets in Hades" on the lines of the Frogs of Aristophanes.Punchalso added what purported to be an Official Coronation Ode by Mr. Alfred Austin—a masterpiece of deliberate ineptitude—and a "Chantey of the Nations" in which Mr. Rudyard Kipling's imperialism is burlesqued in none too friendly a spirit.Punchprovided a jocular epilogue to the masque: he also dedicated a set of serious verses to the King wishing him
health and years' increase,Wisdom to keep his people's love,And, other earthly gifts above,The long-desired, the gift of Peace.
health and years' increase,Wisdom to keep his people's love,And, other earthly gifts above,The long-desired, the gift of Peace.
health and years' increase,Wisdom to keep his people's love,And, other earthly gifts above,The long-desired, the gift of Peace.
health and years' increase,
Wisdom to keep his people's love,
And, other earthly gifts above,
The long-desired, the gift of Peace.
The King is also hailed in a hunting picture as the "King of Sportsmen"; and the grace and kindliness of Queen Alexandra, now as ever, appealed toPunch'schivalry. The dominant "note" sounded inPunch'spages is one of jocularity and good humour. He reproduces the statement that "no fewer than 1,047 poets have sent in Coronation Odes for the prizes offered byGood Words"—no longer, it need hardly be added, theGood Wordsof Norman Macleod. American visitors are maliciously pictured as attempting to buy coronets; andPunchmakes great play with the official announcement of the amount of space allotted to peeresses in the Abbey. Duchesses were to have eighteen inches and ladies of inferior rank sixteen; what was wanted, inPunch'sphrase, was "A Contractor for the Aristocracy."
Death of King Edward
The sudden and dangerous illness of the King and the postponement of the Coronation turned all this gaiety to gloom and suspense, happily relieved by a recovery which gave the celebrations, when they were held, the quality of a thanksgiving as well as of a great pageant.
In 1903 the King and Queen visited Ireland, andPunchprefaced his Donnybrook Fair rhymes—a long way after Thackeray—on their entry into Dublin with the audacious but impenitent declaration that he intended to adhere to amethod of spelling which bore no sort of resemblance to Irish pronunciation.
Of all the Royal visitors in the years before the war, none was more popular or "had a better Press" than King Alfonso. In 1905Punchhappily contrasted past and present in his cartoon of the Kings of England and Spain in friendly converse, while in the background the formidable shade of Queen Elizabeth remarks with more of amazement than approval: "Odds my life! A King of Spain in England! And right cousinly entreated withal!" King Alfonso's marriage in the following year to Princess Ena of Battenberg is genially commemorated in Sambourne's happy adaptation of Velazquez; and when the infant Prince of the Asturias made his first visit to England, the same artist gave us the wholly delightful picture of Prince Olaf of Denmark pushing the Spanish princelet in his "pram": "Come along, old man," he says; "I'll show you round. I've been here before." Spain was not a royal bed of roses, but it was at least spared the upheaval which convulsed the adjoining kingdom of Portugal. On the assassination of King Carlos and the Crown Prince in 1908, Britannia inPunch'scartoon bade King Manoel take courage: when he was deposed by the Revolution of 1910, he appears as a dignified figure mournfully bewailing the downfall of his House. SimultaneouslyPunchchronicles the saying attributed to the late Mlle. Gaby Deslys: "I am not ashamed of having the friendship of young King Manoel," and ironically describes it as "the humility of true greatness."
King Edward was born in the same year in whichPunchfirst appeared, and when he died in 1910 the commemorative number goes back to the cartoon of "The First Tooth," published at a time whenPunch'scomments on the Royal Nursery were more frank than decorous. But whether as a small boy or an Oxford undergraduate, in America or India, in illness or in health, as Prince or King, he had always found a benevolent friend and lenient critic inPunch, who now saluted him in death, in the name of Europe, as a Maker of Peace.
To the mass of obituary literature, mostly uncritical, which was inspired by the passing of a great and popular personalityPunchcontributed an interesting fact. There was nothing surprising in the statement that King Edward never joined in debate in the House of Lords; but it was curious to learn that he never voted—except for the Deceased Wife's Sister Bill. The King's affection for his little dog Cæsar was one of those personal traits which had moved the popular sentiment, andPunchwas fortunate in having on his staff a writer who was a poet as well as a lover of dogs:—
Reft of your master, little dog forlorn,To one dear mistress you shall now be sworn,And in her queenly service you shall dwell,At rest with one who loved your master well.And she, that gentle lady, shall controlThe faithful Kingdom of a true dog's soul,And for the past's dear sake shall still defendCæsar, the dead King's humble little friend.
Reft of your master, little dog forlorn,To one dear mistress you shall now be sworn,And in her queenly service you shall dwell,At rest with one who loved your master well.And she, that gentle lady, shall controlThe faithful Kingdom of a true dog's soul,And for the past's dear sake shall still defendCæsar, the dead King's humble little friend.
Reft of your master, little dog forlorn,To one dear mistress you shall now be sworn,And in her queenly service you shall dwell,At rest with one who loved your master well.
Reft of your master, little dog forlorn,
To one dear mistress you shall now be sworn,
And in her queenly service you shall dwell,
At rest with one who loved your master well.
And she, that gentle lady, shall controlThe faithful Kingdom of a true dog's soul,And for the past's dear sake shall still defendCæsar, the dead King's humble little friend.
And she, that gentle lady, shall control
The faithful Kingdom of a true dog's soul,
And for the past's dear sake shall still defend
Cæsar, the dead King's humble little friend.
Evidence of the unabated popularity of King Alfonso continue to appear in 1910, when that sovereign's visit to the Duke of Westminster prompted some frivolous rhymes on "the Merry Monarch":—
Oh, why does Eaton all her banners don so?To feast the roving eyes of King Alfonso.Why was it that the sun last Wednesday shone so?It loved the polo feats of King Alfonso.What spectacle delights the footman John so?The riding-breeches worn by King Alfonso.What is it fascinates the Eatonian bonne so?It is the winning ways of King Alfonso.What puffs the plumage of the ducal swans so?The notice they receive from King Alfonso.Why are the Kaiser's courtiers jumped upon so?He's sick with jealousy of King Alfonso.Why does the British Press keep on and on so?It cannot have enough of King Alfonso.
Oh, why does Eaton all her banners don so?To feast the roving eyes of King Alfonso.Why was it that the sun last Wednesday shone so?It loved the polo feats of King Alfonso.What spectacle delights the footman John so?The riding-breeches worn by King Alfonso.What is it fascinates the Eatonian bonne so?It is the winning ways of King Alfonso.What puffs the plumage of the ducal swans so?The notice they receive from King Alfonso.Why are the Kaiser's courtiers jumped upon so?He's sick with jealousy of King Alfonso.Why does the British Press keep on and on so?It cannot have enough of King Alfonso.
Oh, why does Eaton all her banners don so?To feast the roving eyes of King Alfonso.
Oh, why does Eaton all her banners don so?
To feast the roving eyes of King Alfonso.
Why was it that the sun last Wednesday shone so?It loved the polo feats of King Alfonso.
Why was it that the sun last Wednesday shone so?
It loved the polo feats of King Alfonso.
What spectacle delights the footman John so?The riding-breeches worn by King Alfonso.
What spectacle delights the footman John so?
The riding-breeches worn by King Alfonso.
What is it fascinates the Eatonian bonne so?It is the winning ways of King Alfonso.
What is it fascinates the Eatonian bonne so?
It is the winning ways of King Alfonso.
What puffs the plumage of the ducal swans so?The notice they receive from King Alfonso.
What puffs the plumage of the ducal swans so?
The notice they receive from King Alfonso.
Why are the Kaiser's courtiers jumped upon so?He's sick with jealousy of King Alfonso.
Why are the Kaiser's courtiers jumped upon so?
He's sick with jealousy of King Alfonso.
Why does the British Press keep on and on so?It cannot have enough of King Alfonso.
Why does the British Press keep on and on so?
It cannot have enough of King Alfonso.
Kaiser, King, and Laureate
The mention of the Kaiser is ominous.Punchhad, for reasons mentioned above, given him a brief respite, but one of his periodical outbursts at Königsberg in August, 1910, provoked a cartoon representing the Imperial Eagle re-entering his cage "Constitution" to the relief of his keeper, whom he reassures with the remark: "It's all right: I'm going back of my own accord. But (aside) I got pretty near the sky that time. Haven't had such a day out for two years." This was not exactly respectful treatment, but it was not so frank asPunch'sheading "Thank Goodness!" prefixed ten years earlier to the statement made, by an American paper, that in a Boston Lunatic Asylum there were eleven patients, each of whom believed himself to be the German Emperor, but that they had no means of communicating with the outer world.
King George's coronation in 1911 gavePunchanother occasion for mingling jest with earnest, loyalty to the Sovereign with chaff of notorieties. The King's serious concern with his country's welfare had already been illustrated in the cartoon in which he is seen, like his namesake saint, attacking a dragon—that of "Apathy." At the time of the coronationPunchlays stress on the heritage of sea-power that had fallen to him, a sailor prince. In July the Prince of Wales was welcomed in his Principality—this time, inPunch'spicture, by a dragon the reverse of apathetic.
In June, 1913, the office of Laureate fell vacant by the death of Mr. Alfred Austin. After Southey, Wordsworth and Tennyson, the anti-climax had been so painful thatPunchmay well be excused for the cartoon in which Pegasus appeals to Ringmaster Asquith to disestablish him: the Steed of the Muses was tired of being harnessed to the Royal Circus. There are some who think that, in the best interests of the distinguished author who was appointed, it would have been well ifPunch'sadvice had been followed.
In the fifty years that had passed sincePunch'sbirth in 1841, "Society," as it was then understood, had undergone a revolution which not only changed its structure but altered the meaning of the word. It had, in Mr. A. B. Walkley's phrase, become one of those "discoloured" words like "respectable" and "genteel," in which the new "connotation" strove with and gradually supplanted the old. "Society," in the old limited sense, stood for a limited, exclusive and predominantly aristocratic set, arrogant at times, but not wanting in a certain self-respect. But by the 'nineties it had become amorphous, unwieldy, cosmopolitan and plutocratic. Du Maurier, the finest and best equipped of the commentators and critics of the oldrégime, who recognized its distinction and its drawbacks, and satirized with impartial ridicule decadent aristocrats and vulgar intruders, was perhapsfelix opportunitate mortis:—