CHAPTER VII CANCELLED DESIGNS FOR PUNCH AND ONCE A WEEK

[CHARLES KEENE AND FREDERICK SANDYS]

IN the present chapter I propose to deal with three masterly drawings prepared for the pub­li­ca­tions of Messrs. Bradbury and Evans (the predecessors of Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew) which were suppressed for various reasons. Two of them are drawings by Charles Keene done for Punch, which were never even “brought to the block.” The third is by Frederick Sandys, designed for Once a Week, and actually engraved, but cancelled before pub­li­ca­tion for reasons which shall appear.

For leave to reproduce the first—one of the rare cartoons (in this case a double-page one) drawn by Keene for Punch—I am indebted to {128} the generosity of Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew, to whom the original drawing now belongs. For years it has hung amongst other well-nigh priceless treasures in the dining hall in Bouverie Street, Whitefriars, and, until reproduced by me in the Pall Mall Magazine in 1899, was only known to the privileged few whose good fortune it has been to penetrate into that Temple of the Comic Muse. It is therefore with the greater satisfaction that it is here reproduced for the delight of that surely increasing public which recognises in Charles Keene the greatest master of pen-and-ink drawing that England has produced. But this is not the place to linger over the qualities of artists. At the same time we cannot but congratulate ourselves that, by good fortune, our chosen subject brings us into contact not only with work to which adventitious interest attaches, but also with artistic work evidencing a technical mastery hard indeed to surpass.

The Cancelled Cartoon. (By Charles Keene)
The Cancelled Cartoon. (By Charles Keene)

The only public mention before the year 1899 made of this splendid pen-and-ink drawing is to be found on page 60 of Mr. Spielmann’s monumental work, The History of Punch. There, in his most {129} interesting description of The “Punch” Dining Hall, it is described as “a masterly drawing, 2 feet long, by Keene, bought by the late Mr. Bradbury at a sale—the (unused) cartoon of Disraeli leading the principal financiers of the day in hats and frock-coats across the Red Sea. (‘Come along, it’s getting shallower!’)”

Now, since this was written, further inquiries have been made upon the subject, and two theories present themselves for con­sid­er­ation. The first of them in its general outline supports Mr. Spielmann’s account, and maintains that the picture was bought direct from Keene himself by the late Mr. Agnew (not Mr. Bradbury), as a solatium on account of its not being used, and that the reason for suppressing it was the anti-Jewish feeling by which it was inspired.

In support of this view it should be remembered that Keene all along refused to accept a fixed salary for his Punch work, and was always paid by the piece. Considering, too, that the subject of the weekly cartoons was (and still is) a matter of general discussion at the Wednesday Punch dinners, it is not unreasonable to suppose that the {130} subject was embarked upon with the authority of the editor, and that other counsels only prevailed after the drawing had reached the stage at which it now appears.24 This being so, it seems not unlikely that a generous employer would feel himself in some degree answerable for the futile labour to which the artist had been put, and would offer to buy the picture as it stood rather than that the artist should in any way be prejudiced. If this were the case (which does not sound improbable) it throws an interesting and edifying side-light upon the relations existing between the artists and publishers of our great comic paper.

24 Of course Sir John Tenniel was cartoonist in chief, but sometimes the cartoon was duplicated, and on very rare occasions Sir John took a holiday.

Against this theory, however, I have the opinion of Sir John Tenniel and Mr. Linley Sambourne that the drawing was done on Keene’s own initiative by way of frontispiece to one of the Punch pocket-books. But this view of the matter I am, with submission, not myself inclined to accept, and for two reasons. First and foremost, the drawing differs in shape from the pocket-book folding frontispieces; and secondly, it was the {131} practice in these yearly productions rather to satirise some social folly or fashion of the period than to deal with matters political or international. In addition to which it does tally in shape with the double-page cartoons of Punch itself, and, as a matter of fact, Keene’s few cartoons were mostly done during the years 1875, 1876, and 1877, when the matter of the Suez Canal was making a new departure in politics—a fact which, as will appear, has some bearing upon the matter before us.

So much for the cir­cum­stances connected with the production and proposed destination of the picture. Let us now consider its subject and the probable reason of its sup­pres­sion.

And, if we take down our volume of collected Punch cartoons and turn to those dealing with Disraeli, we shall be disinclined to think that it was out of any con­sid­er­ation for “Benjamin Bombastes” himself that this splendid drawing was withheld from pub­li­ca­tion. But thinly disguised contempt is the attitude almost invariably maintained towards him, whilst but thinly disguised personal admiration for his great rival discounts even the bitterest political taunts {132} flung at that devoted head. No! I am inclined to think that events at this time, to which this cartoon referred, were wringing unwilling approbation even from “The Asiatic Mystery’s” most bitter enemies, and that Bouverie Street could not but acknowledge that here at least “Ben-Dizzy” deserved well of his country. For surely the cartoon has reference to nothing less than that crowning act of wisdom, the purchase of nearly half the shares in the Suez Canal for four millions sterling. Here we have Disraeli with his umbrella pointing the way, not across the Red Sea as Mr. Spielmann imagines, but up the Canal towards the Red Sea. He calls out, “Don’t be afraid! it’s getting shallower,” thus possibly referring to the original notion (afterwards disproved) that the level of the Mediterranean was 30 feet below that of the Red Sea. On the right-hand, and Egyptian, side of the water, if we look carefully, we discover the shadowy outline of the Sphinx and the Pyramids, which latter rise dimly to the margin of the drawing. On the bank indistinct forms of the Liberal “Opposition” wave their arms, hurl stones and shout “Yah” at the {133} wading financiers. Such was the hardly congratulatory attitude assumed towards this masterly move by Charles Keene.

But when we turn to the cartoons dealing with this subject by Sir John Tenniel,25 which did appear, what do we find? The first is “Mosé in Egitto”!!! published on December 11, 1875, to which, in the collected cartoons, the following note is appended:—“Mr. Disraeli extorted the admiration of the country by purchasing for £4,000,000, on behalf of the Government, the shares in the Suez Canal held by the Khedive of Egypt.” The second is entitled “The Lion’s Share—Gare à qui la touche,” on February 26, 1896, to which the note appended runs: “The acquisition of the Suez Canal shares was accepted by the country as securing the safety of ‘The Key to India.’” These, as will be seen, frankly recognise the wisdom of the purchase. Hence it is not surprising if the feeling against the suggestion contained in Keene’s cartoon—that the financiers of the day were being put into a {134} ridiculous position by the Conservative Leader—was strong enough to result in its rejection. Its inclusion would have gone far to stultify the effect of the congratulatory attitude taken up by Punch’s chartered cartoonist. At any rate, this view of the case appears to be most reasonable, and I give it for what it is worth.

25 It may be mentioned as an interesting fact that no engraved cartoon after Sir John Tenniel has ever failed to find its place in the number for which it was designed.

The drawing is a fine example of Keene’s power of endowing his models with the qualities requisite to his design. Not a man of these seventeen financiers suggests a model posing, and yet all, for this was Keene’s invariable custom, were drawn from the life. Not one of them but is balanced as though he were wading in water up to his knees; and yet not one of them, we may be sure, was wading against a stream when, probably unconsciously, he was forced into the service of the artist’s pencil. The pose of one and all is as inevitable as is the expression on the face of each. I would ask all my readers who are seekers after consummate draughtsmanship to give more particular attention to this beautiful drawing than its mere subject would demand, remembering that Keene’s achievements in black-and-white are {135} unsurpassed, and, I am inclined to think, unsurpassable.

We will now turn to the con­sid­er­ation of the other suppressed Keene drawing. This, we shall find, owed its rejection not to political but to social con­sid­er­ations. And it is of peculiar interest, not only as showing the scrupulous care taken by the then editor of Punch to avoid the risk of offending the susceptibilities of his readers, but also as an example of the extensive collaboration which existed between Keene and the late Mr. Joseph Crawhall in the supply of “socials” to that paper week by week.

Let us pause for a moment, then, to recall the particulars of this remarkable co-operation. Early in the ’seventies, Keene, who was often gravelled for humorous subjects on which to exercise his pencil, was by good fortune introduced to the author of Border Notes and Mixty-Maxty, and many other droll books of a like character. This gentleman, always a lover of things quaint, grotesque and jocular, had been for years in the habit of jotting down any telling incident that came in his way, illustrating it at leisure for his {136} own amusement. He was no great artist; but, like Thackeray, his inadequate pencil was so compelled and inspired by the appreciation of his subjects that he was able to set them down pictorially in a manner so naïve and at the same time so intelligent that they are a joy to the beholder. These suggestive drawings, by the time the introduction had taken place, filled several volumes.

Keene’s delight, then, may be well imagined when he was given carte blanche to cull the best of the subjects for use in Punch. He wrote:—

“I can’t tell you how strongly I have felt your rare generosity and unselfishness in letting me browse so freely in your pastures.”

And again:—

“Many thanks for the loan of the sketch-books. I enjoyed them again and again, with renewed chucklings; but what a mouth-watering larder to lay open to a ravenous joke-seeker!”

The Cancelled “Social.” (By Charles Keene) Suggestion by Joseph Crawhall for the Cancelled “Social”
The Cancelled “Social.” (By Charles Keene)
Suggestion by Joseph Crawhall for the Cancelled “Social”

Fortunately Mr. Crawhall was as delighted to be of service to the great artist as Keene was to avail himself of his opportunity. Hence we have that delightful partnership of which full particulars {137} may be found in my Life and Letters of Charles Keene ofPunch.”

It is necessary to say so much for the purpose of introducing the subject of the second of Keene’s cancelled drawings. By a great piece of good fortune I have in my possession Mr. Crawhall’s pictorial suggestion for the rejected picture itself, presented to me by the artist. I reproduce it here alongside Keene’s drawing for the purpose of comparison. The humour of it is certainly rather brutal, and one is not surprised to find that the editor considered that it would “jar upon feelings.” Keene, on the other hand, was naturally disgusted at his labour being thrown away, and vented his wrath somewhat unreasonably upon the “Philistine editor.”

For the sake of those who would like to gain some idea of the personality of the artist’s friend who acted, as Boswell did to Johnson, in the capacity of a “starter of mawkins,” it may be mentioned that an excellent back view of Mr. Crawhall, drawn by Keene, appears in Punch, March 11, 1882, over the following delicious “legend”:— {138}

LAPSUS LINGUÆ

PATER: “Now, look here, my boy, I can’t have these late hours. When I was your age my father wouldn’t let me stay out after dark.”

FILIUS: “Humph! nice sort o’ father you must have had, I should say.”

PATER (waxing): “Deuced sight better than you have, you young——”    (Checks himself, and exit.)

The original of the Punch drawing here reproduced was presented to Mr. Crawhall by Charles Keene. This was the latter’s method of repaying the former for his unqualified generosity. Mr. Crawhall was, however, somewhat embarrassed by what he considered to be excessive payment for services which he held required no other recompense than the honour thus conferred on his poor drawings. The result was a generous contest which resulted in his finally refusing to accept them, “For,” said he, “you don’t know the value of your work. The reward is too great, and our happy connection must cease if you put me under these obligations.”

Keene, nevertheless, always afterwards made a colourable excuse to send them when he could think of one, although by this time he was well {139} aware that he was as great a magician as the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street, and could by a few strokes of his pen make the back of an old envelope rival the value of one of her crisp bank-notes.

But we must not linger over the cancelled drawings of an artist who, had he been as great in imagination as he was in originality of method and mastery over his pencil, would have been as great as the greatest in Art. It is now our delightful task to turn to another of the men of the ’sixties, whose imagination and sympathy with high romance has rarely been surpassed, and whose technical mastery, though not the equal of his great contemporary, was yet so dis­tin­guished that, even divorced from his other qualities, it would give him a niche in the Temple of Fame. Frederick Sandys has but lately left us, and how few there are who recognise the greatness of his work! For years it has been a matter of astonishment to me that his name was not on every tongue. Keene, alive, was practically unknown. Keene, dead, occupies an unassailable position. Sandys is known and esteemed only by {140} the few. The time will come when his pictures will be a fashionable craze, and every woodcut after him, whether it be in Once a Week, The Cornhill, Good Words, London Society, The Churchman’s Family Magazine, The Shilling Magazine, The Quiver, The Argosy, or what not, will be eagerly appropriated by those who wish to pass as discerning dilettanti.

But we must not generalise, for our concern is here with one particular design, and enthusiasm must not be allowed to run. Done for Once a Week, and cut exquisitely on the wood by Swain, that with which we have to do was at the last moment cancelled by a timidly fastidious editor.

If we turn to page 672 of vol. iv. of Once a Week (new series), 1867, we shall find the following set of verses, signed “W.,” the origin and authorship of which I am now able to make public:—

DANAË

The hour of noonday sleep was o’er, And Danaë dreamt her dream no more; Yet still its image lingered on her loom; For there in woven colours bright, And touched to life by purpling light, Smiled the one godhead of the captive’s room. {141} She raised her from the Tyrian sheet, And clasped her sandals on her feet, And lightly drew around her virgin zone; And sighed—and knew not why she sighed; And murmured, while her work she plied, “The World may leave my love and me alone.” Thus sang the maiden of the brazen tower, And longed, unconscious, for the golden shower.
“The days and months have grown to years, And I have dried my childish tears, And half forgotten why they ever ran; My soul is plighted to the sky, And we,—my wrinkled nurse and I,— What matter if we see no more of man? She wearies me with omens dire, My son foredoomed to kill my sire,— But sire and son are empty names to me. My love! I only rest awhile, To dream the beauty of thy smile. And only wake again to picture thee.” Thus sang the maiden of the brazen tower, And longed, unconscious, for the golden shower.
She ceased: for now began to fade The figure of that mighty shade, With loins and shoulders meet to sway the world; And awful through the gloom appeared His massive locks of hair and beard, Like clouds in lurid light of thunder curled. Yet, long as twilight glimmered there, She gazed upon a vision fair; His brow more beautiful than Parian stone, And nestling nearer like a dove, Soft on his lips she breathed her love, {142} And lit his eyes with lustre of her own. Then passion stung the maiden of the tower, And fast she panted for the golden shower.
She stood, with white arm fixed in air, And head thrown back, and streaming hair, “Oh, Lord of Dreams!” she cried, “dost thou behold?” Then thunderous music shook the cell, And, sliding through the rafters, fell On Danaë’s burning breast, three drops of gold. Her bosom thrilled—but not with pain:— Faster and brighter flowed the rain, And starred with light the chamber of the bride: Her cheek sank blushing on her hand, Her eyelids drooped, her silken band Unloosed itself,—and Jove was at her side. Black loured the earth around the captive’s tower, But Heaven embraced her in the golden shower.

I insert the poem here, as it constitutes the only trace in the pages of Once a Week of the matter with which we have to deal.

Before proceeding to detail the cir­cum­stances connected with the production and final sup­pres­sion of the engraving, which prompted this passable set of verses, I shall endeavour to correct certain statements regarding it which have gained currency. In the Artist monograph on “The Art of Frederick Sandys,” in 1896, we find a few lines only given to the con­sid­er­ation of the {144} wood-engraving of “Danaë in the Brazen Chamber”; but in these few lines we have one undoubtedly incorrect statement, and another which is open to the gravest suspicion. The first is that the “Danaë” was engraved for The Hobby Horse in 1888; the second that it was drawn for Once a Week in 1860.

Danaë in the Brazen Chamber
Danaë in the Brazen Chamber

As regards its engraving, this was done by Swain for Once a Week, when the drawing was sent in. That it was first published in The Hobby Horse as an illus­tra­tion to an article by the late J. M. Gray is another matter altogether. As regards the date of its design, 1860 is almost certainly some years too early. Indeed, I had it from Sandys himself that the probable date of the first sketch of the subject was as late as 1865, and that it was not till after he had traced it on a panel26 (the figure some two feet high) for a never-completed oil-painting, and later had made a chalk-drawing of it for a Yorkshire gentleman, that he decided to make a drawing on the wood at all. This being done, its beauty prompted two poems by two of his personal friends, the one {145} given above by Mr. Ward, the other, so far as I can gather never published, by Colonel Alfred Richards. Now, the fact that Mr. Ward’s poem did not appear in Once a Week till 1867 lends such overwhelming weight to Mr. Sandys’s recollection of the matter that we may, I think, unhesitatingly reject the date of 1860 given by the author of the Artist monograph and adopt a date at least five years later. Further evidence, too, is to be found in the fact that Mr. Sandys continued to draw on the wood certainly as late as 1866, and his recollection is clear as to “Danaë” being his last essay in that medium.

I have been thus particular to correct this matter because it will, I believe, prove of importance, when Sandys’s artistic career comes finally to be described, to get his different productions into chronological order for a proper understanding of his artistic development.

So far, then, we have arrived, at any rate approximately, at the date when Sandys did what proved to be not only his one “suppressed” drawing, but, as I have said, the very last drawing done by him on the wood. {146}

Let us now consider the cir­cum­stances under which it was produced for, but in the event suppressed by, the editor of Once a Week. And that this periodical is the poorer for its loss will be obvious to all who love beautiful drawing, “splendid paganism,” and fine wood-engraving.

Sandys began to draw for Once a Week in 1861, his initial effort being that splendid design, “Yet once more on the Organ play,” which is fit to rank with Rethel’s “Der Tod als Freund,” with which there is a certain similarity of sentiment. This was followed by eleven drawings within the five succeeding years, all breathing the spirit of Dürer, and carrying on the effort which Rethel, who had only died in 1859, had made to renew the life put into wood-engraving by the old German master. In either 1865 or 1866 Sandys projected an oil picture on the subject of “Danaë in the Brazen Chamber.” He had conceived a new version of the Danaë legend. Instead of Jove appearing to the imprisoned maiden in the form of a golden shower, he adopted the belief in Jove as the God of Dreams and adapted it to the legend.27 Danaë, {147} who has never seen a man, is haunted by the appearance of Jove as he has presented himself in her sleeping hours. To comfort herself and satisfy her passionate longing she has spent her days in weaving the image so vouchsafed to her in tapestry. For the moment her work is discarded. The ball of wool with which she has been working lies at her feet, and she stands, “with white arm fixed in air,” calling upon the “Lord of Dreams” to come to her in very sooth.

26 This is now, I believe, in the possession of Mr. Ashby-Sterry.

27 καὶ γὰρ τ’ ὄναρ ἐκ Διός ἐστιν.—Homer, Iliad i. 63.

Frankly sensuous as is the picture, one cannot but admit that the theme is treated with all necessary restraint. This, however, does not appear to have been the opinion of Walford, the then editor of Once a Week. He wrote to Sandys requiring a modification of the design. This the artist flatly refused. The design must appear as it was or not at all. In this refusal he was gallantly supported by the proprietors of the periodical, Messrs. Bradbury and Evans. The editor, however, would not give way, and the result was a deadlock. The block was actually engraved by Mr. Swain, and in his best manner, but the editor’s will was paramount, and it never {148} adorned the pages for which it was intended. It was reserved to the Century Guild Hobby Horse, in 1888, to rescue it from the oblivion into which it had passed.

I am indebted to Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew for permission to reproduce the design. Of it Mr. J. M. Gray says in his article on “Frederick Sandys and the Woodcut Designers of Thirty Years Ago”:—“It ranks among the very finest of Sandys’s woodcuts,” and the artist, who had not been uniformly satisfied with the engraved versions of his work, himself wrote to me: “It was engraved for Once a Week. Perfectly cut by Swain. From my point of view the best piece of woodcutting of our time.”

And all who love this beautiful but fast disappearing handmaiden of the arts will heartily endorse Mr. Sandys’s opinion.