LEECH IN THE HUNTING FIELD.

293

and a frequent attendant at the "Pytchley," when he went a day's hunting it was his custom to single out some fellow disciple of Nimrod that happened to take his fancy, keeping behind him all day, noting his attitudes in the saddle, and marking every item of his turn-out, to the last button and button-hole of his hunting coat. It was in this way that he obtained the correctness of detail which renders his famous sporting etchings so wonderfully true to nature. Strange to say, notwithstanding his knowledge of every detail of the huntsman's dress, even to the number of buttons on his coat, he himself, with reference to his own outfit, invariably presented in the hunting field a somewhat incongruous appearance. Either he would wear the wrong kind of boots, or would dispense with some detail which on the part of an enthusiast would be considered an unpardonable omission. Leech, however, was not what is called a "rough rider," his constitutional nervousness prevented him indeed from making a prominent figure in the hunting field, and his friends attributed this want of attention to detail in dress to his sensitiveness to criticism, and his unwillingness to place himself in any position which would be likely to incur it.

PRINCE ALBERT.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE "PUNCH" CARTOONS OF JOHN LEECH.

WE have seen that at the time John Leech commenced work as a comic artist, the art of caricature was practically dead; it was not therefore at all surprising, under the circumstances, that he should reverse, as it were, the order of things: commence as an illustrator of books, and finish his career as a graphic humourist. Although his first contribution to Punch commences in the fourth number, his cartoons so called (from which, in accordance with the plan of this work we now proceed to select a few examples) seem to us to call for little mention before the year 1843.

His Royal Highness Prince Albert, who held high rank in the British army by virtue of his exalted position, was most unjustly suspected in those early Punch days of a desire to interfere unduly with its administration. He took, however, much interest in the dress and comfort of the British soldier; and those who remember what military costume was in 1843, will admit that there was room for improvement. Changes were made indeed, but these changes can hardly be said to have been made in the direction of either comfort, convenience, or good taste. The "Albert hat" (as it was called), one of the ugliest, most ungainly, and preposterous of military shakoes that was ever invented, made its appearance about this time, and the idea was credited (rightly or wrongly) to the amiable prince. Constant reference to this preposterous invention is made in the pages of Punch, and the prince's questionable taste in the matter of military costume is specially satirized in Leech's amusing cartoon entitled Prince Albert's Studio.

Mr. O'Connell, at a great Repeal meeting held in September, 1843, had expressed a hope that he should be able to give his dupes "as a new year's gift a parliament on College Green." No one knew better than himself the absurdity of such a promise. Had he named the first of April for the presentation instead of the first of January, it would have been more appropriate, and at least equally veracious. A great Repeal meeting was intended to be held in October at Clontarf, three miles from Dublin, at which certain supporters of the movement were to have attended on horseback and paraded in the character of the "Repeal Cavalry." This meeting the Irish executive prohibited by proclamation, and on the 14th, O'Connell and other prominent leaders were arrested, and held to bail on a charge of conspiracy. On the 24th of May, 1844, the Irish judges sentenced him to twelve months' imprisonment, and a fine of £2,000 The cartoon of The Probable Effects of Good Living and no Exercise refers to this result; but Punch on this occasion was wrong. O'Connell proved "too many" for the Irish lawyers. He appealed by writ of error to the Lords, and on the 4th of September the judgment was reversed.* Sir James Graham. the Home Secretary, and the government to which he belonged, had encountered much odium in consequence of the opening of certain letters which had passed through the post office. The result was the appointment of a Committee of Secrecy by both Houses to inquire into the official practice, and it would appear from their report that every administration had been in the habit of exercising this espionage under the authority of a warrant of the Secretary of State. The sins of the past as well as of the present were visited on the head of Sir James, who sought to throw the responsibility on higher powers; and in reference to this, Sir James Graham and Sir Robert Peel figure respectively as Sairey Gamp and Betsey Frig, after Phiz's well-known drawing. Sir James indeed seemed to have

The prosecution, however, answered its purpose. The funds of the Repeal Association were nearly exhausted by the contest, the influence of the "Liberator," as he was called, was destroyed, and he himself was more guarded and circumspect in his language. He died three years afterwards.

BB

had rather a facility for getting himself into trouble. There was much excitement in and out of the House with reference to the additional grant to Maynooth College. In the course of the debates, Sir James Graham retracted an expression which he said had fallen from him in the heat of debate, viz. that concession in favour of Ireland had reached its utmost limit, and hoped that his actions had proved better than his words. Among the subsequent cartoons by Leech, he figures as Peel's Dirty Little Boy. "Drat the boy," says Dame Peel (as she chastises him), "he's always in a mess.” Towards the close of the debate two remarkable speeches were delivered by Lord John Russell and Sir Robert Peel, both of whom concurred in the necessity of a conciliatory policy towards Ireland. This rapprochement between the two leaders of the opposite camps, and the leanings of Sir Robert in the direction of a Liberal policy, are referred to in Leech's cartoons of How do you Like the New Whig and the Premier's Fix (Peel between Free Trade and Protection), the last borrowed from one of Cruikshank's drawings. Railway Juggernaut of 1845 (also suggested by Cruikshank's wellknown etching), refers to the then mania for dabbling in railway shares.

The

Between the two stools of Free Trade and Protection, Sir Robert, as might have been anticipated, ultimately fell through; an event which is chronicled in vol. x., the idea in this instance being taken from the celebrated drawing in the late Mr. Clarke's "Three Courses and a Dessert," the cartoon of Peel driving the vehicle of Protection, which has broken down, bearing the title of The Deaf Postilion. A change of ministry took place in 1846, little Lord John replacing Sir Robert Peel as "First Lord of the Treasury.” He cuts an amazingly queer figure (in vol. xi.) in the ex-premier's huge hat, vast coat, and voluminous waistcoat and inexpressibles. Little Lord John was an enduring subject of Punch's satire during that statesman's somewhat unsatisfactory political career, and Leech was never weary of comparing him with his far more brilliant and able contemporary. Here we have the pair figuring as Dombey and Son (Dombey being Sir Robert, and the son Lord John),