Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 93, December 17, 1887

In Short

This volume serves as a time capsule of December 1887, offering a window into the preoccupations of the late nineteenth-century British public. It is a mosaic of short stories, satirical verse, and sharp-tongued correspondence that lampoons the political theater of the day—particularly the friction between Gladstone’s Liberals and the Conservative government. By mixing lighthearted mockery of social fads like palmistry and the Bacon-Shakespeare authorship debate with serious critiques of trade and class, it provides an enduring, witty, and occasionally cynical portrait of an empire at a crossroads.

The Story

The narrative arc of this volume functions as a series of linked vignettes rather than a traditional linear plot, unfolding across the social, political, and cultural landscapes of 1887. It begins with the wry, reflective correspondence of H. D. W-lff, a diplomat departing for Teheran, who looks back with a mixture of relief and amusement at his own role in stirring up the "Bradlaugh difficulty" and the chaotic rivalries of the House of Commons. His departure sets a tone of jaded detachment that permeates the rest of the work.

From these halls of power, the focus shifts to the streets, where the "Voces Populi" segments capture the awkward, often strained interactions of ordinary Londoners. We follow a young, newly engaged couple attempting a sophisticated dinner at an Italian restaurant, only to descend into bickering, and watch the tragicomic breakdown of a pair of brothers whose evening dissolves into drunken arguments over a few shillings. These scenes ground the high-flown political rhetoric in the messy, petty realities of human interaction.

As the weeks of December progress, the magazine turns its gaze toward the absurdity of current events. There is the satirical retelling of the "Welsh Gold Fields" frenzy, where a fictional camp is thrown into total disarray by a single, cryptic dispatch from "W. E. G." (Gladstone), leading the inhabitants from industrious work to idle, slogan-shouting ruin. This theme of "fiscal reform" and the folly of Protectionism is woven throughout the text, culminating in mock-serious debates where speakers celebrate the ruinous prices of their own household goods as a patriotic sacrifice.

The volume closes by pivoting toward the festive season, yet even this is marked by the magazine’s characteristic skepticism. The final pages are filled with lists of Christmas books and cards, yet the humor remains dry and defiant. The "exhausted poet" who laments his duty to write verses for every seasonal trinket provides a meta-commentary on the entire endeavor. The final image of the collection—a judge in Chancery court watching a toy ballet-girl dance with earnest interest—perfectly encapsulates the book’s spirit: a world where the serious and the silly are inextricably linked, and where the only appropriate response to the madness of the age is a sharp, knowing, and distinctly British chuckle.

How It Unfolds

The diplomat’s farewell The volume opens with the letters of a retiring politician who finds himself exiled to Teheran, offering a cynical look back at the parliamentary squabbles that defined his career. He frames his departure as a lucky escape from the "fever" of politics, leaving behind the fraying majority of his colleagues.

The street-level absurdity The perspective shifts to a series of dialogues set in London’s restaurants and public spaces, showcasing the collision between romantic ideals and the harsh, often petty realities of interpersonal tension. These vignettes highlight the social awkwardness of the era, from the performance of manners to the breakdown of familial respect.

The satire of industry The book examines the economic anxieties of the day, particularly the "Fair Trade" craze, through reports on the Welsh gold rushes and meetings of protectionist associations. Here, the text mocks the idea that high prices and the collapse of exports could ever be viewed as a national triumph.

The cultural cross-examination Midway through, the text addresses the scholarly obsessions of the time, such as the Baconian theory of Shakespeare’s plays. This is presented as an exercise in "gammon," allowing the magazine to ridicule the pretension of academic debate while simultaneously providing fodder for light verse.

The festive conclusion The final beats focus on the commercialization of Christmas, where the magazine catalogs the endless stream of cards, toys, and books flooding the market. It concludes with a satirical nod to the season, leaving the reader with a final, skeptical view of a society trying to maintain decorum amidst the pressures of a changing world.

The People

H. D. W-lff acts as the cynical guide, a veteran of parliamentary warfare who views his colleagues as mere actors in a grand, chaotic drama. He wants nothing more than to loll comfortably in his retirement, free from the "fever" of Westminster.

The "Adorer" and "Pussy" represent the social aspirations of the young and the naive. He desires a perfect, romantic evening to solidify their engagement, but finds his efforts constantly sabotaged by their mutual inability to communicate without resorting to icy contempt or defensive pride.

The "Good Brother" and "Bad Brother" provide the darker edge of the collection. The Good Brother represents a fading sense of principle, constantly trying to maintain dignity, while the Bad Brother, mired in drink and debt, acts as a wrecking ball to that morality. Their collapse into a public shouting match is the book’s most candid look at the fragility of social class.

Finally, the nameless, harried "Poet" serves as a stand-in for the reader’s own exhaustion, forced to navigate the seasonal influx of consumer goods with a mixture of wit and fatigue. He ends the volume by striking his lyre for the last time, a weary observer who has seen enough of the year’s follies.

In Its Own Voice

If I had had my choice, I would not have gone so far afield.

The retiring minister reflects on his sudden and unwanted appointment to the Persian court, highlighting the arbitrary nature of political life.

If you are really bashful by nature, assume a haughty and forbidding demeanour to cover it.

This bit of advice from a satirical guide on the "Art of Conversation" perfectly captures the volume’s tongue-in-cheek approach to social anxiety.

I’m a daisy, dear boy, and no ’eeltaps!

This exuberant declaration from the character 'Arry asserts his own brand of "go" and spirit, despite the attempts of high-minded critics to define him.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book is an investigation into the vanity of human ambition and the absurdity of the political machine. It questions whether society actually progresses or if it simply invents new, more elaborate ways to argue over the same old grievances. By juxtaposing the grand, self-important speeches of politicians with the trivial, drunken squabbles of tavern-goers, the book argues that human nature remains remarkably consistent—and consistently ridiculous—regardless of the century. It is a sustained critique of dogmatism, whether found in the stiff, protectionist economic policies of the day or the rigid social codes that demand one act "properly" even while the world is clearly coming apart at the seams.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the biting satire of The Onion or the dry, observational humor of British periodicals will find this volume deeply satisfying. It offers a rare, unfiltered glimpse into the Victorian psyche at the very end of 1887—a period that feels both alien and startlingly familiar in its political polarization and obsession with public "form."

However, the reader should be prepared for the dense, period-specific dialect—particularly in the sections written as 'Arry’s correspondence—which can be challenging to decipher without patience. The humor is also heavily dependent on knowing the specific political figures of the era, such as Gladstone, which might prove confusing to those unfamiliar with 19th-century British parliamentary history. Yet, the reward for the reader is a sharp, witty, and profoundly human experience. The book captures that specific, lingering sensation of the end of a year: a mixture of fatigue, skepticism, and the stubborn, defiant urge to laugh at the chaos. It serves as a reminder that even when the world seems to be falling into a "deluge," as W-lff puts it, there is a certain comfort in the sharp, quick wit of a well-placed joke.