This posting is part of a series that I ran on another forum, the Mature Cheese, which was closed down some time last year. The active membership was vey small – about a dozen. I would now like to offer it to a much larger readership. So I admit that the following is not original, but I am only copying from myself. I hope people will like it.
For more than a century Punch had a special place in the nation’s cultural life. The jokes were seldom of the rib-tickling kind. More often they led to a quiet chuckle or the realisation that here was a witty and timely comment on contemporary life. Inevitably it reflected the opinions and indeed the prejudices of its readers who belonged to the comfortable middle classes. Today we look with distaste at the attitudes of the jokes towards foreigners, especially those of African and Asian origin and also to what were then known as the ‘lower orders’.
In spite of this (and indeed also because of this) many of the Punch cartoons provide a useful historical record of the times in which they were printed. Here is my first example which is dated 1880.
We see here several things at work. In the first place here is an instance of the very important part that matters ecclesiastical played in the nation’s affairs. Bishops were very grand indeed. A bishop’s official residence was called a palace and this was often no misnomer. Punch’s readers would all know that there would have been a veritable army of servants and the page in the picture would have been the very lowest in that army.
At one level the joke revolves around the boy’s lack of religious knowledge. What can you expect from the ignorant rabble? On the other hand his native wit has enabled him to understand the power structure within the palace. Education is not everything, we may surmise.
Also exposed is the well-observed fact that some women did not regard themselves in need of any emancipation. To the early advocates of feminism (including those demanding votes for women) people like the ‘bishopess’ were an affront. They did not regard her as an acceptable role model. Her importance was based simply on having married an important man and then bossing him about. She had not branched out in her own right and achieved her position by her own efforts. She, and women like her, was bitterly opposed to the suffragettes and their allies. They liked to keep things as they were - a situation which suited them very well.
The bishop and page cartoon was drawn by George du Maurier, a stalwart of Punch at the time.
How lovely - thank you for sharing the cartoon and the interesting comment on the content. As you say - a wonderful slice of social history. Am looking forward to seeing more!
Thank you Mr Magoo - look forward to more of the series.
Punch was great fun right up to its demise, and not just for the splendid cartoons - some wonderful writers and editors - Alan Coren and the lovely Miles Kington spring to mind immediately.
This cartoon is dated 1915 and is very much of its time. The dog’s owner feels unable to call him by his real name because it is not only a German name, but also the one name that is popularly supposed to be quintessentially German.
This joke sits alongside an uncomfortable truth. At the most obvious level the humour is that a frisky little animal can hardly be a spy. So isn’t the owner being needlessly cautious? But that would not really have been the case. By 1915 there was a frenzy of hatred of Germans and all things German. I was reminded of this not long when watching an episode of ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’ In it the celebrity cook Rick Stein was confronting his father’s mental health problems. These were related to having endured universal hostility to his family as a child during World War One. They were not spies, as were many others who suffered from this frenzy of hate. (This was a feeling fervently reciprocated in Germany towards all things British. We remember the slogan ‘Gott Strafe England.’)
It would have been safe enough to confide in the nice respectable gentleman with his top hat and spats. But it would be quite another matter to reveal the dog’s embarrassing name to the world at large. Ordinary people influenced by the Northcliffe Press could not be expected to understand that the lady was not a German sympathiser. They would ask why has she called her dog ‘Fritz?’
A further truth was that she might very well two years earlier have chosen this name for her puppy. Before the war broke out there was much friendly travelling between the two countries. Sir Frederick Ponsonby who was secretary to three monarchs was known to everyone as Fritz. There had been plenty of examples of British people who had married Germans. After the outbreak of war this was all ‘forgotten’ and replaced by unthinking hostility.
Here is the famous Curate’s Egg cartoon which has come down to us in the language. I would guess that the phrase is being used today by people who are unaware of this, its origin.
A curate was the lowest form of life in the ecclesiastical world. His income was pitifully low, as the bishop’s was extravagantly high. The purpose of the breakfast invitation was for the bishop, busy as he no doubt was, to identify likely candidates for preferment. The curate would have been very well aware of this. Confronted with the undoubted fact that his egg was indeed off he tried to make as light of this fact as possible.
The artist was again the versatile George du Maurier, the founder of a dynasty.
Here is another World War One cartoon. I suspect that the artist has had first hand experience of trench warfare. Fritz has just been captured as a prisoner of war. He is being escorted behind the British lines by Jock, who does not have a speaking part in this tableau. Tommy’s arm is in a sling which means that he has received a ‘blighty’ which is a wound serious enough for him to be sent back to Britain for a spell in a British Military Hospital.
Tommy shows absolutely no hatred for Fritz. He draws attention to the fact that they will both be leaving the frontline behind. Fritz is not depicted as a sub-human monster. Instead, he is shown as an amiable buffoon. He has clearly said to himself ‘for me the war is over’. He also draws attention to the fact that Tommy is going to a place that has every intention of getting him fit again as soon as possible so that he can be returned to his unit.
Below the surface we can see two things standing out. It is all right for the German to be openly glad not to have to risk his life any more. In 1916 this could not be the stated opinion of a Tommy in similar circumstances but that it is the German who has no more wish to fight would chime in well with the civilian readership of Punch. But to the artist and the military readership it would be clear that Fritz is the lucky one. Some things are better not openly stated.
The aesthetic movement arose in reaction to living in what was then the world’s industrial superpower where nearly everything new was mass-produced. In response there were those who wanted things to be beautiful and hand made.
This cartoon exactly captures not only the actual forms but also the sentiment of this movement. The Arts and Crafts group was a famous exponent of this drive. The other trailblazer was the Pre Raphaelite Brotherhood and the bride in the picture closely resembles their famous model, Elizabeth Siddal. The bridegroom is based on Oscar Wilde – this drawing precedes Wilde’s fall from grace by 15 years. The clothes and the furnishings of the time are accurately reproduced in du Maurier’s brilliant sketch. It goes without saying that you had to be quite rich in order to indulge in such passions.
The aesthetes became exceedingly precious and laid themselves open to caricature not only here but also in Gilbert and Sullivan’s operetta Patience.
I was surprised by the message contained in this cartoon. It asserts that in 1912 there were many more people wanting to buy motor cars than there were people selling them. I am assuming that it wouldn’t have appeared in Punch unless this was really true.
The precious young salesman is leaning against a princely vehicle of the time – nothing like a Ford T. The humble purchaser would have to have been well heeled indeed. Apart from the cost of the car he would also need to employ a chauffeur. This man would not just drive it but would also need to be a trained mechanic ready to deal with the many breakdowns to which the early models were prone.
We are used today to seeing ironic cartoons in which the truth is the opposite of what it seems. From the wording of the text (You’re wrong…) I wonder if this is the earliest example of this genre.
On one level this joke is about a simple pun. The lady cyclist wants to know if she is on the right way to Wareham whereas the local man assures her that she is wearing ‘em’ correctly.
The real point is his reaction to what she is wearing. However ridiculous this seems to us, his problem is that what he is seeing is in total contrast to what has been the norm throughout his life: men wear trousers, women wear skirts. He is perhaps being a bit condescending but in reality the reaction might have been a lot less polite.
With the availability of bicycles greater mobility was possibility for a lot of people. The social impact was tremendous. But women found that they could not travel far while wearing the long skirts that were then the universal style. In fact it would have been dangerous to try.
At first a few brave souls decided that the cycle was more important than the style. The lady in the cartoon is shown wearing the garment which allows her to enjoy the same freedom of movement as men while retaining some of the attributes of the traditional skirt. It was called the divided skirt. To the man in the cartoon it looks like trousers. Hence the joke.
I think that the cartoonist has been entirely fair to the lady cyclist. He has not shown her as an unfeminine extremist but as an entirely respectable well-dressed member of the middle classes. It isn’t clear whether he is reflecting public acceptance of this innovation or is simply advancing its cause.
1906: I don’t wish to know that. Kindly leave the stage
Today we don’t admire those who poke fun at people less advantaged than they are. We would regard that as politically incorrect. We see that this was not the case in 1906. There is some mitigation in the fact that those who were being laughed at would not be likely to read the pages of Punch. Even so we are not amused.
The maid takes the question to mean getting a position elsewhere but more senior in the hierarchy of domestic service. She assures her mistress that by marrying she will be leaving ‘service’ altogether.
The cartoonist doubts whether her material circumstances will be improved by the forthcoming change of status.
Readers of Punch in 1907 would have seen nothing unusual in the body language displayed here. Ellis is standing at respectful attention when addressing her mistress. The lady of the house sees no reason to modify her comfortable recumbent posture while speaking to a maid.
I wonder whose book she is reading? Presumably it wouldn’t have been the latest by H G Wells which that year was the prophetic War in the Air. Perhaps Ouida was more to her liking.
The words have changed but the imperative hasn’t. As always there is the stick and there is the carrot.
Today the carrot is preferred. Examples include league tables, sales person of the month or some imaginary job title. In 1877 the stick would have been the sack.
I’m sorry to say that I don’t know what the ‘swop’ is. Google is no help at all. Any suggestions?
As 1914 approached the issue of votes for women became increasingly divisive. At first the established politicians wanted to laugh it away. As the protests became more strident accompanied by a determination to break the law the response was to deride the suffragettes as unreasonable and unfeminine.
Under those circumstances this cartoon seems almost neutral. Yes, there is physical violence involved but the perpetrator is not shown as some harridan but a fit and able young women. The policemen who outnumber her by a substantial number are both powerless and afraid of her. Perhaps the cartoonist is showing a grudging admiration for Mrs Pankhurst and her followers.
In truth where there was physical violence it was perpetrated both by the police and by random mobsters. Such activities had no place in a Punch cartoon.
This cartoon reminds us of some of the discomforts involved in living in ‘the good old days.’ This meant no central heating, no running hot water and other inconveniences unfit for mention in the pages of Punch. On rising it was normal to be presented with a basin and a jug of cold water for washing in one’s bedroom.
Julia said that the girls had found that the water was all frozen in the jugs. This could either mean a thin layer of ice at the top of the water or it could mean that the water had become a solid block of ice. In the case of a thin layer it would have been possible to break through the ice. But if the jugs contained solid ice then it would have been sensible to draw some fresh water from the kitchen tap and bring it up to the bedroom. I can’t imagine that mother and daughters would have come down to breakfast without a certain amount of washing.
The son of the house clearly had done exactly that. Cecil was surely slow on the uptake. He had been presented with sufficient information for him to make a similar claim. In time he would surely learn to be more creative.
There are many croquet cartoons in Punch from this time. It was very popular as an outdoor game that could be played on terms of equality between women and men. There was no running (consider the handicap of those voluminous skirts) involved nor was physical strength of any advantage. In addition, of course, here was another welcome way in which eligible single people could meet each other with complete propriety.
Mid Victorian prudery was then at its height. Even so Flora could legitimately reveal her ankle by complying with the rules of the game. It looks as though she was holding down one croquet ball with her foot while another one of a different colour is being placed alongside. The men are avidly watching her do so. Ostensibly they are making sure that the rules are being observed. But everyone (the cartoonist, the editor and readers of Punch, the men in the cartoon and especially Miss Spriggs) knows that the intensity of their gaze is due to this rare opportunity of seeing a part of Flora that is usually hidden from view.
I don’t think that the explanatory text in the drawing has it quite right. I don’t suppose that Miss Spriggs’ feet are any less pretty than Flora’s but the interest in the foot is governed by the person to whom the foot is attached.
It is somewhat reassuring to think that the cartoon appeared at this time of maximum puritanism. Even then it was not thought to be really scandalous that the men should find the rare view of a lady’s ankle to be of such absorbing interest.
