John Leech, His Life and Work Volume I Part 3

"Oh, is there not something, dear Augustus, truly sublime in the warring of the elements?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "BUT AUGUSTUS'S HEART WAS TOO FULL TO SPEAK."]

Let anyone who suffers at sea fancy what it is to be spoken to at all, when the fearful sensations, the awful precursors of the inevitable, have full possession of him, and then to suffer in the very presence of the dear creature from whom every human weakness has been hitherto carefully hidden! The drawing is followed by a poem, in which the position of the unhappy Augustus is described. He could not speak in reply to his bride's appeal; in the words of the poet:

"She gazed upon the wave, Sublime she declared it; But no reply he gave-- He could not have dared it.

"Oh, then, 'Steward!' he cried, With deepest emotion; Then tottered to the side, And leant o'er the ocean."

Poor miserable Augustus! his face is pale as death, his treasured locks blown out of shape; his eyegla.s.s swings in the wind; the distant steamer is making mad plunges into the heaving wave; the rain falls, and let us hope the romantic bride turns away as her young husband "leans o'er the ocean."

Only those who have pa.s.sed from the tableland of life can recollect the pa.s.sion for speculation in railways that took possession of the public in 1845 and the two or three following years. I myself caught the disease, and, acting on the advice of "one who knew," I bought a number of shares in one of the new lines; these were 25 shares, on which 8 each had been paid. I was a.s.sured by my adviser that I should receive interest at the rate of eight per cent. till the year 1850; after that time the line would pay ten. I awoke one morning to find that a panic was in full blast, and all railway property depreciated. My feelings may be imagined, for I certainly cannot describe them, when I found, on reference to the _Times_, that my 8 shares--17 being still due upon each--were quoted at half a crown apiece! My friend had the courage of his opinions, for he had invested the whole of his property in railway stocks. He was completely ruined in mind and body, and died miserably before the panic was over.

Multiply these examples by thousands, and you will arrive at a clear idea of the nature of a panic, which seems to mystify the young gentleman immortalized by Leech in the drawing ill.u.s.trating the following dialogue:

"I SAY, JIM, WHAT'S A PANIC?"

"BLOWED IF I KNOW; BUT THERE IS VON TO BE SEEN IN THE CITY."

It has been my fate in the course of a long life to attend several fancy-dress b.a.l.l.s, but I can scarcely call to mind a single example of the successful a.s.sumption of an historical character, or, indeed, of any character that could disguise the very modern young lady or gentleman who was masquerading in it. My first acquaintance with Mark Lemon, so long the esteemed editor of _Punch_, began in the Hanover Square Rooms, at a fancy-dress ball given by a society--chiefly, I think, composed of the better cla.s.s of tradespeople--called the Gothics. On that occasion might have been seen a young gentleman in the dress of one of Charles II.'s courtiers, and looking about as unlike his prototype as possible--in earnest conversation with another courtier, of the time of George II. I was of the Charles' period, Lemon of that of the Georges.

Those who remember Lemon's figure later in life would have been surprised by the change that time had made in it, if they could have witnessed the interview between the two young men, one scarcely stouter than the other. In proof of my idea that the greater number of guests were in trade, I might give sc.r.a.ps of conversation between Mary Queen of Scots and Guy Fawkes, or between Henry VIII. and Edward the Black Prince, that would leave no doubt on the subject; nay, later in the evening I had convincing proof of the correctness of my surmise, as you shall hear. I danced with a Marie Antoinette of surpa.s.sing beauty, with whom I fell incontinently in love. More than once I danced with her, and when supper was announced, my earnest appeal to be allowed to conduct her to the banquet was successful. My lovely friend was full of the curiosity peculiar to her s.e.x, which showed itself in her anxiety to know who and what I was. To tell the truth, I was equally curious to know who she was, and what her friends were.

"Well," said I, "if you will tell me who you are, I will tell you who I am and what I am."

"Oh," was the reply, "I think I know what you are; but what's your name?"

"You know what I am?" said I, surprised; "what am I?"

"Well, you are in the same line that we are, I fancy."

"And what line is that?"

"The army tailoring. Am I right?"

In the ill.u.s.tration that accompanies these remarks Leech has succeeded in presenting to us a Norman knight completely characteristic, a Crusader more real, I think, than any modern could have rendered him.

The lady he escorts, in a dress a few hundred years after Crusading times, is very lovely. The capital little Marchioness, with the big door-key, the four-wheeler, and the laughing crowd, make up a scene of inimitable humour.

We now come to the first of those precocious youths in whose mannish ways, whose delightful impertinence to their elders, whose early susceptibility to the pa.s.sion of love for ladies three times older than themselves, are shown by Leech in many a scene I should have given to my readers, but over them the Copyright Act stands guard. "'Tis true, 'tis pity, pity 'tis, 'tis true," that in a book intended solely to do honour to Leech's genius, so many of the most perfect examples of it are denied to us.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SIR! PLEASE, MR.! SIR! YOU'VE FORGOT THE DOOR-KEY!"]

Well may the governor stare with open-mouthed astonishment at such a proposal from such a creature! Look at him as he throws his little arm over his chair in the swaggering att.i.tude he has so often observed in his elders, and raises a full gla.s.s of claret! "Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined;" but that we know that in this instance the twig is indulging in a harmless freak, one might be inclined to dread the tree's inclining.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ETON BOY (_loq._): "Come, governor! just one toast--'The Ladies'!"]

The political opinions of the writer of this book are of no consequence to himself or anybody else. It would perhaps be pretty near the truth if he were to admit that he had no political opinions worth speaking of. To those, however, who were interested in the struggle for Free Trade, which in the year 1846 raged with great fury, the question was, and still is, one of vital interest. The landed interest, headed by most of the aristocracy on the one side, and the manufacturing interest, championed by Cobden and Bright, on the other, raised a storm in which language the reverse of parliamentary was tossed from side to side. Peel was Prime Minister, and his ultimate conversion to the principles of Free Trade, and consequent advocacy of the repeal of the Corn Laws, horrified his supporters--by whom, notably by Disraeli, he became the object of envenomed attack--but led to a settlement of the question, and gave Leech an opportunity for the production of drawings of the victor and the vanquished, ent.i.tled, Cobden's "Bee's Wing" and Richmond's "Black Draught," two of the most successful of the political cartoons.

"The Brook Green Volunteer" gave Leech the opportunity for many ill.u.s.trations which, to my mind, are nearer approaching caricature than most of his work; nor have they, as a rule, the beauty or human interest that so many of his drawings show. I fear I must charge the volunteer himself with being in possession of an impossible face and a no less impossible figure; his action also is exaggerated. In compensation we have a delightful family group. The mother with that naked baby perambulating her person is beyond all praise. Women do strange things, but I deny the possibility of such a woman as Leech has drawn ever finding it in her heart to marry that volunteer. The little thing standing on tip-toe to dabble in baby's basin for the benefit of her doll, the delighted lookers-on, not forgetting the warrior riding his umbrella into action, are invested with the charm that Leech, and Leech only, could give them.

The year 1846 gave birth to the first fruit from a field in which Leech found such a bountiful harvest. The racecourse gave opportunities for the exhibition of life and character of which the great artist took advantage in numberless delightful examples. Pen and pencil record adventures by road and rail. Whether the excursionist is going to the Derby or returning from it, whether he is high or low, a Duke or a costermonger, that unerring hand is ready to note his follies or his excesses, always with a kindly touch, or to point a moral if a graver opportunity presents itself.

A madman, they say, thinks all the world mad but himself; and it is not uncommon for a drunken man to imagine himself to be the only sober person in the company. That some feeling of this kind possesses the rider in the drawing opposite, as he addresses the stolid postboy, is evident enough; his drunken smile, his battered hat, and his dishevelled dress, are eloquent of his proceedings on the course; and if his return from the Derby is not signalized by a fall from his horse, he will be more fortunate than he deserves to be. In works of art the value of contrast is well known, and a better example than the face of the postboy offers to that of his questioner could not be imagined. He drunk, indeed! not a bit of it.

A pretty creature in the background must not be overlooked. She is a perfect specimen of Leech's power of creating beauty by a few pencil-marks. Her beauty has evidently attracted notice, and caused complimentary remarks from pa.s.sers-by, which are resented by the old lady in charge, who tells the speaker to "_go on with his imperdence_!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE RETURN FROM THE DERBY."

SMITH: "Hollo! Poster, ain't you precious drunk, rather?"

POSTBOY: "Drunk! not a bit of it!"]

I cannot resist presenting my readers with another Derby sketch. It is more than probable that if either of these young gentlemen had asked for leave of absence from his official duties for the purpose of going to the Derby, he would have met with stern denial. The attraction, however, is irresistible, and though the subterfuge by which it is achieved is not to be defended, who is there that is not glad that the wicked boy is penning that audacious letter, as it is the cause of our having a picture that is a joy for ever? As a work of art, whether as a composition of lines and light and shadow, in addition to perfect character and expression, this drawing takes rank amongst the best of Leech's works. Note the admirable action of the youth who is putting on his coat--a momentary movement caught with consummate skill.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE DERBY EPIDEMIC."]

"GENTLEMEN,

"Owing to sudden and very severe indisposition, I regret to say that I shall not be able to attend the office to-day. I hope, however, to be able to resume my duties to-morrow.

"I am, gentlemen, "Yours very obediently, "PHILLIP c.o.x."

Doctors differ, as everybody knows; and in no opinion do they differ more than in the way children should be treated. One of the faculty will tell you that a healthy child should be allowed to eat as much as he or she likes; another advises that as grown-up people are disposed to eat a great deal more than is good for them, a boy is pretty sure to do the same unless a wholesome check is imposed upon his unruly appet.i.te. A great authority is reported to have said that as many people are killed by over-eating as by over-drinking; "in fact," said he, "they dig their graves with their teeth." If that be so, the young gentleman in "Something like a Holiday" is destined for an early tomb.

Comment on this wonderful youth is needless. We can only share the alarm and astonishment so admirably expressed in the pastrycook's face.

That this awful juvenile's memory should serve him so perfectly when he has taken such pains to cloud it, as well as every other faculty, is also surprising.

[Ill.u.s.tration:

PASTRYCOOK: "What have you had, sir?"

BOY: "I've had two jellies; seven of those, and eleven of these; and six of those, and four bath-buns; a sausage-roll, ten almond-cakes, and a bottle of ginger-beer."]

[Ill.u.s.tration:

"ALARMING SYMPTOMS ON EATING BOILED BEEF AND GOOSEBERRY-PIE."

LITTLE BOY: "Oh lor, ma! I feel just exactly as if my jacket was b.u.t.toned."]

If "a fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind," the boy in the following drawing would have delighted in the society of the _gourmet_ at the pastrycook's. Boiled beef and gooseberry-pie are good things enough in their way, but one may have too much of a good thing, with the inevitable result of the tightening of the jacket. This greedy-boy drawing appeared in 1846, and created a great sensation in the youth of that day, and many days since. Careful parents have been known to use this terrible example of over-eating as a warning to their offspring that a fit of apoplexy frequently followed the tightening of the jacket.

I think my married reader of the rougher s.e.x will agree with me when I say that there are few more uncomfortable, not to say alarming, moments than those spent in the awful interview with the parents of his beloved, during which he has to prove beyond all doubt that he is in every respect an individual to whom the happiness of a "dear child" can be safely entrusted. What a bad quarter of an hour that is before the meeting, when he has grave doubts as to the sufficiency of his income!

Will it, with other future possibilities, be considered sufficient to a.s.sure to "my daughter, sir, the comforts to which she has been accustomed"? This he will have to answer satisfactorily, together with a few score more questions more or less agonizing. Leech drew a scene of common application when he produced the picture that follows, which he calls "Rather Alarming"--"On Horror's Head, Horrors acc.u.mulate." Look at that terrible female and prospective mother-in-law!--think of satisfying such a woman that you are worthy of admission into her family! How sincerely one pities that poor little Corydon, and how heartily one wishes him success!

"RATHER ALARMING."

LADY: "You wished, sir, I believe, to see me respecting the state of my daughter's affections with a view to a matrimonial alliance with that young lady. If you will walk into the library, my husband and I will discuss the matter with you."

YOUNG CORYDON: "Oh, gracious!"