Mr. Punch's History of Modern England. Volume 4 of 4.—1892-1914. Graves Charles Larcom
when Mr. Gladstone resigned the premiership, early in 1894, Punch's tribute is an unqualified eulogy of the "Lancelot of our lists": —
"Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done."
This is no Antony; here's a nobler one;
Yet like the Roman his great course is run.
From source to sea a fair full-flooded flow
Of stainless waters, swelling as they go,
Now widening broad in the sun's westering glow,
Broad widening to the ocean, whither all
The round world's fertilizing floods must fall,
The sweeping river with the streamlet small.
Hang up the sword! It struck its latest stroke,
A swashing one, there where the closed ranks broke
Into wild cheers that all the echoes woke.
That stroke, the last, was swift, and strong, and keen,
Now hang thou there, though sheathed, yet silver-clean,
For never felon stroke has dimmed thy sheen!
For thee, good knight and grey, whose gleaming crest
Leads us no longer, every generous breast
Breathes benediction on thy well-won rest.
The field looks bare without thee, and o'ercast
With dark and ominous shadows, and thy last
Reveille was a rousing battle-blast!
But though with us the strife may hardly cease,
We wish thee, in well-earned late-coming ease,
Long happy years of honourable peace!
The "last stroke" referred to was doubtless the speech in which Mr. Gladstone uttered his warning to the Lords, a warning translated into action by the Parliament Act of 1910. Lord Rosebery, his successor, came from the gilded chamber, and, in spite of his democratic record and brilliant gifts, was not enthusiastically welcomed by the Liberal Party. But Punch had no misgivings at the moment and acclaimed him in a cartoon in which he enters the lists, "from spur to plume a star of tournament," with Harcourt as his squire, a reading of their relations hardly borne out by the sequel. The Cabinet were not a "band of brothers," and, as we have said above, the most notable legislative feature of the Liberal administration was the "Radical Budget" of Sir William Harcourt. Punch's comment, in the cartoon "The Depressed Dukes" and the verses on "The Stately Homes of England," combined prescience with a touch of malice. The Duke of Devonshire is shown saying to the Duke of Westminster, "If this Budget passes, I don't know how I am going to keep up Chatsworth," and the Duke of Westminster replies, "If you come to that, we may consider ourselves lucky if we can keep a tomb over our heads." Mr. Chamberlain's famous phrase about "ransom" is recalled, in view of his rapprochement to the Tories, to illustrate his falling away from Radicalism, and Punch's references to him are, for a while, critical to the verge of hostility. Sambourne's picture of the interesting development of the "Josephus Cubicularius (orchidensis)" exhibits his evolution from the manufacturer of screws, the republican and the radical, to the patriot, society pet, and full-blown Conservative with a peerage looming in the future; while in the "Essence of Parliament" he is ironically complimented on investing the High Court of Westminster with "the tone and atmosphere of the auction-room."
On the other hand, Punch recognized that a disposition to add to our Imperial responsibilities was no longer a Tory monopoly. Uganda was annexed in 1894, and John Bull is seen finding a black baby on his doorstep: "What, another! Well, I suppose I must take it in," the explanatory verses being headed "Prestige oblige." The assassination of President Carnot prompts a tribute to France: —
Sister in sorrow now as once in arms,
Of old fair enemy in many a field —
an obvious adaptation of Sir Philip Sidney's "that sweet enemy France." But in the realm of foreign affairs the most striking event was the Chino-Japanese war. Here Punch's sympathies are clearly revealed in his cartoon, "Jap the Giant-killer," with an up-to-date fairy-tale text; in the picture of Japan as the Infant Phenomenon lecturing on the Art of War to John Bull, Jonathan, the Kaiser and other crowned heads; and in the condemnation of the jealous intervention of Russia and Germany to rob Japan, who had "played a square game," of the fruits of victory. The death of the Tsar Alexander III in November, 1894, is commemorated in a cartoon in which Peace is chief mourner. Punch, as we have seen, had not been enthusiastic over the gravitation of Russia towards a French alliance; but no official declaration of its existence was made until 1897, though it was mentioned publicly by M. Ribot in 1895.
"Old as I am my feelings have not been deadened in regard to matters of such a dreadful description." (Mr. Gladstone's Birthday speech at Hawarden on the Armenian atrocities.)
The Seven Lord Roseberys
The Rosebery Cabinet resigned in June, 1895. Punch's admiration for Lord Rosebery had steadily waned during his brief tenure of the Premiership, and distrust of his versatility is revealed in the versified comment on Mr. St. Loe Strachey's article in the Nineteenth Century. There the "Seven Ages of Rosebery" are traced, in the manner of Jaques, from the Home Ruler onward through the phase of London County Council chairman to Premier, and Sphinx à la Dizzy, ending: —
Last scene of all
That ends this strange eventful history,
Newmarket Rosebery, Ladas-owner, Lord —
Sans grit, sans nous, sans go, sans everything.
Lord Salisbury's third Cabinet was reinforced by the inclusion of the Liberal-Unionists – the Duke of Devonshire, Mr. Goschen and Mr. Chamberlain. It was a powerful combination, but suffered in the long run from the inherent drawbacks of all coalitions, though the course of events postponed the inevitable disruption. Before the Liberals left office, Mr. Gladstone had emerged from his retirement to denounce the "Armenian Atrocities" and urge British intervention. Here, as in earlier years, Punch sided with the advanced Liberals, rejoiced in his well-known cartoon, "Who said 'Atrocities'?" that there was life in the old dog (Mr. Gladstone) yet; welcomed the adhesion of the Duke of Argyll to Mr. Gladstone's campaign in another cartoon of the "Old Crusaders: Bulgaria, 1876, Armenia, 1895"; and denounced the unchangeable ferocity of the Turk. When the Bishop of Hereford invited his clergy to send up petitions respecting the Armenian atrocities, one vicar refused to protest against Turkish crimes, on the ground that the English Government was exercising all its ingenuity to persecute and plunder Christians here. This referred to the Liberal Government's Welsh Disestablishment Bill. Punch ironically declared that the vicar's logic was as convincing as his Christian sympathy was admirable. On the return of the Unionists to power, Punch continued to urge strong measures, and lamented the powerlessness of the "Great Powers" to bring about reforms in Turkish administration.
The Kiel Canal
The retirement of Mr. Peel from the Speakership afforded Punch a fitting opportunity for recognizing his great qualities in maintaining the dignity of his position, his "awesome mien and terrible voice" in administering rebukes, and for joining in the chorus of congratulation to the new Conductor of the Parliamentary Orchestra, Mr. Gully. As for the protest of Lord Curzon, Lord Wolmer and Mr. St. John Brodrick against the exclusion of peers from the House of Commons, Punch dealt faithfully with the movement in his comments on the "Pirate Peers." Better still is the cartoon in which a bathing woman addresses a little boy wearing a coronet, and battering with his toy spade at the door of a bathing-machine labelled House of Commons. "Come along, Master Selborne," she says, "and take your dip like a little nobleman." This incident of May, 1895, is hardly worth mentioning save as an example of self-protective insurance against future legislation aimed at the power of the Upper House. For years to come Punch's political preoccupations were almost exclusively with