Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 93, December 24, 1887

In Short

This volume serves as a time capsule of late 1887, collecting the weekly issues of Punch, or the London Charivari. It is a pastiche of short fiction, satirical verse, political commentary, and social critiques that define the British Victorian temperament. By blending high-minded literary references with the low-brow humor of "mashers" and municipal scandal, it provides an unfiltered look at a society struggling with Irish Home Rule, artistic pretension, and the encroaching modern age. It remains relevant as a testament to the enduring power of wit.

The Story

The narrative arc of the volume is not a single linear tale, but a collective progression through the final weeks of 1887. The "story" begins with the frantic, restless energy of a political landscape characterized by the Parnellites, Irish Home Rule, and a weary Parliament. We are introduced to the inner workings of the state through the satirical correspondence of W.H. SM-TH, who mimics the jargon of a sea-captain, desperate to escape his desk in London for the wandering atmosphere of Pau. This sense of displacement and exhaustion permeates the text, as public figures are portrayed as weary travelers on a "gallant State-ship" that is perpetually caught in storms.

As the weeks progress toward Christmas, the tone shifts from sharp political satire to a reflection on the absurdity of institutional life. We see the "Licensed Vistlers"—a jab at the Royal Society of British Artists—struggling with the vanity of its members, and the "Cramophone," a satirical invention for repeating nonsense. The middle section introduces the tragic and heroic ballad of LAWRENCE MOOR, a Shetland sailor who survives a winter tempest, grounding the book’s otherwise airy cynicism in a moment of genuine human fortitude.

The arc inevitably leans into the festive season, yet even this is marked by irony. The "Conscientious Apparition" provides a surreal interlude, as a ghost attempts to find his proper haunting ground, only to be thwarted by bureaucratic indifference and legal bills. This legal satire is mirrored in the "Waiting His Orders" segment, where a municipal board official engages in petty blackmail against theater owners, demanding free boxes in exchange for safety inspections.

The story concludes with a weary, almost philosophical look at the "Chimes" of the season. Here, the personified voice of Time and tradition warns against the reactionaries and the "dull vermin" who would turn back progress. The volume leaves the reader in the midst of a grand, crowded stage—represented by The Graphic's illustration of "All the Talents"—where the great men and women of the era are portrayed as if rushing toward a refreshment room. The book ends not with a resolution of the political or social crises it has poked fun at, but with the persistence of the status quo and the reminder that, in the face of history, one must simply keep time, touch, and tune.

How It Unfolds

The Parliamentary voyage The volume opens with a mock-nautical plea from W.H. SM-TH, who desires to abandon the exhausting, repetitive pouncing on Irish Members for a holiday in Pau. This establishes the weary, skeptical tone that permeates the political commentary for the remainder of the year.

The artistic critique The focus shifts to the theater and galleries, where the author dissects the revival of The Two Roses and mocks the "Licensed Vistlers" at the Royal Society of British Artists. These segments position the reader as an insider in a world where celebrity and aesthetic pretension are always ripe for ridicule.

The heroic interruption The narrative pauses for a somber, rhythmic account of a fishing disaster in the Shetlands, shifting the register from farce to genuine tragedy. This interlude highlights the harsh realities underlying the comfortable lives of the Victorian middle class.

The bureaucratic nightmare The pace accelerates through a series of legal and municipal scandals, involving a ghost who cannot pay his lawyer and a corrupt official extorting theater tickets. These beats illustrate a society entangled in its own complex, often absurd, administrative rules.

The seasonal reflection The volume closes with a meditation on the "Chimes" of the season and a final, crowded tableau of the era's famous figures. The end provides a sense of finality, emphasizing the need for unity and "combination and subordination" in a fractured political world.

The People

W.H. SM-TH appears as the quintessential weary statesman, hiding his anxiety about the upcoming Parliamentary session behind a thin veil of sailor’s jargon. He is a man who wants to escape the "pounce" of politics but knows he is tethered to it by duty.

The Conscientious Apparition is a tragicomic figure who represents the displacement of the individual in an overly bureaucratic world. He wants only to haunt the right place and be recognized, yet he is thwarted by the Tower of London’s social cliques and the Imbecile Inquiry Office.

JOHN BEGG acts as the personification of petty, institutional corruption. He is the villain of the municipal world, using his power to bully theaters for his tradesmen's benefit, embodying the "vermin" the Chimes warns against.

Finally, the "Licensed Vistlers" and the various "Fictionists" serve as a collective character—the pretenders of the age. Whether they are young girls suffering from "scribblemania" or artists pricing their work as "priceless," they represent the vanity that the editor constantly punctures with his dry, biting prose.

In Its Own Voice

The journal’s penchant for biting wit is best seen in its dismissal of the era’s literary ambitions:

"Had Mr. Punch been dealing with these dear little literary aspirants, he would have simply repeated his world-famed epigrammatic advice to 'persons about to marry,' and said, most unequivocally, to girls about to write novels--'Don't.'"

The political tone is captured in this cynical observation regarding the shifting loyalties of public figures:

"I’ve tried all the parties now, Tory, Whig, Radical, Smiled on each in its turn, as to win me each strove; But I said in my heart, little Wales I love chiefly, And sweet JENNY JONES, too, in truth I do love!"

The frustration with the era's obsession with its own importance is summed up here:

"High up in the steeple of an old old Tower, of ancient foundation, somewhat incongruous and complicated in design, but of sound Constitution--as everybody... admitted--far above the light and the noise of the town... dwelt the Chimes I tell of."

What It's Really About

The volume is an investigation into the friction between tradition and modernity. It argues, through its satirical lens, that institutional structures—the Parliament, the Law, the Arts—have become brittle, bureaucratic, and prone to corruption. It questions whether progress is possible when the "maggots of the time" are so focused on petty power struggles and the preservation of outdated systems. The underlying anxiety is that the Victorian world is becoming a pantomime, where the participants are so busy playing their parts—be it the statesman, the artist, or the ghost—that they have lost touch with the genuine human needs that the "Chimes" of history continue to ring out.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the biting satire of modern late-night television or the sharp-tongued cultural commentary of a well-edited magazine will find themselves at home here. The book is a masterclass in the "stiff upper lip" style of humor, where the most devastating insults are delivered with a polite, almost breezy tone. However, modern readers should be prepared for the dense, era-specific allusions to Victorian politics, which often require a bit of patience to untangle. The dialect and the occasional flashes of period-typical arrogance regarding Irish politics or class distinctions are present, serving as a reminder of the historical distance between the reader and the writer. Despite this, the experience of reading these pages is like stepping into a crowded, dimly lit club where everyone is gossiping about the state of the world, and the wit is fast, relentless, and occasionally quite brilliant. It is a rewarding look at how a society uses humor to grapple with its own decline and its own inevitable, noisy future.