Punch: Punch (40.1861)

April 20, 1861.1 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 165

THE LAY OF THE LAST STATUE.

(Midnight had struck from the new Clock

Tower,

And Wizard Punch had gone to his Bower—
His Bower that was guarded ’gainst snob and
swell—

‘Truncheon and Toby shield it well!

No living wight, save Punch alone.

Had dared to cross the threshold stone!

;

(Of noble race the Wizard came :

His lineage numbered sires of fame
On either side the sea.

He had learned the art that crowned his name
In Atella—of ancient Italie.

And such his power, that men avow
He entered every where.

And to plain utterance could bow
The voices of the air.

And now he sits in his secret Bower,

In the shade of Westminster’s tall Clock
Tower,

And listens to a heavy sound
That moans the gilded vanes around.

Is it the roar of London’s tide,

Still surging on by Thames’ black side ?

Is it the wind within the clock F
Is it Big Ben begins to rock ?

What may it be, the heavy sound
That moans the lofty Clock Tow’r round ?

At the sullen moaning sound
The cats shriek and mi-oul,

And from Westminster slums around
The dogs begin to howl.

The shiv’ring steeds in cabs of night
Think that a storm is near.

And to windward the watermen take a sight;
But the night is still and clear.

Prom the sound of London’s tide,

Surging aye by Thames’ black side,

Prom the wind inside the clock,

From Big Ben’s dull-booming shock,

Prom the voice of the coming storm,

Weird Punch that sound read clear—
’Twas the statue of Havelock that spoke,
And he called on the statue of Napier. v

HAVELOCK STATUE.

“ Sleepest thou, brother ? ”

NAPIER STATUE.

—“Brother, nay;

All around the moonbeams play,

And set our ghastly gathering forth,

From Jenner unto George the Fourth—
Hideous forms, the square defacing,

Which of squares should stateliest show,
All extremities embracing
To which ugliness can go.

Up, and mark the sculptor’s feat,

Up, and own the mull complete! ”

HAVELOCK STATUE.

“ Tears of an ill-treated maiden
Mingle with our fountains’ stream :

Poor Britannia, statue-laden,
i Mourns beneath my coppery gleam.

Tell me, thou, that pilloried high.

Art even uglier than I,

When shall these offences end ?

When our monuments amend ?

When shall sculptors cease to fail ?

When shall Bull a statue hail ? ”

NAPIER STATUE.

“ Whitehall’s slow Board of Works doth hold
Its wonted courses, calm and cold.

A Scott is snubbed at Premier’s whim,

Nor Brompton’s planet waxeth dim.

Where looms, ’neath Fowke’s malignant star,

| A bigger, uglier, Boilers far!

Ill do I read the signs I see.

Or still they speak bad taste in power,

In this sad square and yon tall tower,
j Till Brompton’s quelled, and Art is free! ”

The stony voices ceast,

And the moon fell calm and chill
On Northumberland House’s beast,

With his tail so stiff and still!

But round Westminster Tower
The sound still floated clear,

For it rang in Punch's Bower,

And it rang in Punch's ear !

He raised his Roo-too-it,

And his truncheon grasped with pride—

“ Proud Brompton shall bend,
xAnd the Boilers descend,

Ere the Goths over London still rough-shod
shall ride! ”

OUR DRAMATIC CORRESPONDENT.

“ Hear Punch,

“Asa man of sense and taste, and one who loves to see good
acting, you of course have been delighted with Mr. Fechter’s Hamlet.
Pray, how many years is it since you were so well satisfied with the
playing of that part, and so disposed to clap your hands, and cry out
bravo! to the actor? Without descending to superlatives, will you
not agree that you have never seen a more original conception, and
scarce ever one more carefully and perfectly worked out? Making
due allowance for his foreign intonation (a defect which it is not
within his power to obliterate, but which becomes less noticed as the
tragedy proceeds) you must allow that Mr. Fechter has achieved a
great success, though you may not quite admit that the performance
is ‘unparalleled,’ or allow that it is ‘universally acknowledged’ as
the ‘ greatest triumph ’ possible in the dramatic art. Such phrases
may be well enough to puff a mere pretender, but are unworthily
employed in the case of Mr. Fechter, and I trust that Mr. Manager
will think fit to withdraw them from his play-bill and advertisements.
For all that croakers say about the stage not being patronised, depend
on it, fine acting will find plenty of admirers, without blowing a trumpet
to attract them to the house.

“ This is a free country, I am thoroughly aware, and is blessed with
a free stage as well as a free press. But knowing by report only some-
what of the jealousies of Green Rooms, and of the national antipathies
that swell the British breast, I have not the slightest doubt but that
to some minds there is something most alarmingly audacious in the
notion of a Frenchman undertaking to play Shakseeare, and that too
not in Paris but before a British audience. I think I hear old Clap-
trapp denouncing such impertinence, and declaiming against foreigners
for bringing their French polish upon our British boards. Zounds!
Sir, the Swan of Avon is not a bird of passage, and what business have
these foreigners to lay their impious hands on our Immortal Bard ?
old Mouther too is equally indignant at the impudence of one who
dares disturb the old traditions of our stage, and to read the part
afresh by the light of his own intellect, without looking for enlighten-
ment to the actors whose bright genius has thrown lustre on the past.
Play Hamlet in light hair! O horrible! most horrible! As well play
Julius C&sar without a Roman nose, or try to represent Othello without
blacking your face! Don’t talk to me, Sir, of your German physio-
gnomists, and of light hair being suited to a dreamy and irresolute
meditative character, such as you say the text of Shakspeare is in-
tended to present. Did you ever hear of Garrick playing Hamlet in
light hair, and don’t you think he knew what was proper for the part ?
And would the Kembles and the Keans have stuck to their black
wig, if they had deemed it otherwise than sooted to the text ?

“ Now, much as I desire the well-being of our actors, I am not dis-

posed to join in crying for Protection to British stage traditions, or in
denouncing, as impertinence, the effort of a Frenchman to read i
Shakspeare for himself, without having his mind fettered by conven-
tional suggestions, and stagy stale advice. Free trade, say I, in intel-
lect as well as corn and cotton; and when old Mouther cries, ‘ What
impudence! ’ I feel far more inclined to cry out, ‘ What a compliment
that a foreigner should take such pains to learn the English language,
and bestow so much love-labour on a most exacting part! * * Our Stage
is not so good but that it might be better; and competition may, per-
haps, put our actors on their mettle, and bring out latent talent—if
there be any hidden. Mind, I don’t say I prefer to see a foreigner
play Shakspeare, or doubt but that an Englishman possessed of equal
talent would more please me in his part. A foreign tongue, of course,
can’t give right utterance to our language, and can therefore never do
full justice to the text. For all his skill and painstaking, and months !
of careful study, Mr. Fechter’s intonation still grates upon one’s ear,
and sadly mars the pleasure one, in spite of it, receives. Such a phrase,
for instance, as ‘ Though Hell itself should garp,' can but fall offen-
sively on any English ear; nor do we express pathos by drawling out
our vowels, and saying, ‘ gr-r-a-ace ’ and ‘ spe- e-e-ak ’ instead of

* grace ’ and ‘ speak.’ These defects I noticed most in the declamatory
passages, and where intensity or violence of feeling is expressed. But
they are scarcely perceived at all in the more colloquial utterance,
wherein (as I think, rightly) the conversations with Polonius and the
players are kept up. Nor, even at their worst, are they more unlike
clear, plain, intelligible English, than the gasps and grunts and gurgles
which, with many an English actor, are supposed to give good utterance
to the words that Shakspeare wrote.

“ As we don’t get a new Hamlet once in a score of years, or, at any
rate, not one who is worth a second looking at, I may perhaps revisit
the Princess’s ere my next, and speak a little more in detail of the
merits that I mark. Meanwhile, I would advise all those who like

food acting, untrammeled by tradition, to enjoy the present chance.

would advise them, too, when there, to keep their eyes upon their
opera-glass, rather than their book; for, rightly to appreciate the
points of his performance, Mr. Fechter must be looked at all the
while that he is listened to. Let them observe the facial play that
gives such meaning to each word, and note the graceful ease of every
attitude and gesture. Not since the elder Kean has there been seen
upon our stage a Hamlet with an eye; and if Mr. Fechter lacks the
lightning-flash of genius, his eye is ever shining with an intellectual
light.

“ I must add one word more, and that is to advise people who
patronise the stalls, to take their places in a party, and not each book
for himself. For the privilege of paying a week or so beforehand, a
shilling is demanded for all numbers up to six. This premium, which
commercially, I think, should be a discount, amounts to nearly twenty