The birth of the Duke of Clarence is loyally chronicled in January, 1864, though in the following number _Punch_ could not resist the temptation of printing some verses in parody of Tupper, then at the zenith of his popularity. The birth of the present King in the summer of the following year prompted some frank but friendly comments in _Punch's_ "Essence of Parliament." Sir George Grey moved the address of congratulation to the Queen. Then follows this characteristic passage:--
Mr. Disraeli, who we are glad to perceive had so completely recovered from his gout as to be able to attend at the splendid marriage of Miss Evelina de Rothschild, and make the most tender and graceful of speeches in honour of the occasion, seconded the motion, which _Mr. Punch_, rousing himself for a moment into loyal enthusiasm, has the distinguished pleasure of thirding--and relapses.
The plain fact was that _Punch_ was growing increasingly dissatisfied with the continued retirement of the "Royal Recluse." This dissatisfaction began with a "Loyal Whisper" at the time of the Prince's wedding:--
"Nay, let my people see me." Kind Was She whom then our cheers were greeting: Now, would that Lady bear in mind That words like those will bear repeating.
But it soon swelled to more vocal dimensions. It was one thing to check the extravagances of "indelicate and obtrusive loyalty"; it was another to maintain an almost Oriental aloofness. The subject is returned to again and again, in prose and verse, and in two cartoons by Tenniel: notably that of "Queen Hermione" in 1865. But the candour of _Punch_ reaches its highest level in his comments on the announcement early in 1866 of the institution of a new decoration--the Albert Medal.
_Mr. Punch's_ loyalty has been proved too often for question. Without the slightest apology, therefore, he proceeds to say what he would have preferred to leave unsaid, for it is not the part of a true friend to be silent when he should speak. _Mr. Punch_ has cordially approved every reasonable effort to preserve the memory of the good Prince whose loss we all deplore. Statues, in far greater number than ever was accorded to an English Worthy, have been reared in honour of the lamented Consort. Though it is now just sixty years since Nelson was laid in St. Paul's, our great sea-captain's monument is unfinished--we hear nothing at all of the national monument to our great land-captain, though it is more than thirteen years since Wellington was laid by the side of Nelson--but the most splendid and costly of memorials is rapidly rising, in the Park, in testimony of our veneration for Prince Albert. When this shall have been completed, will it not be almost time to leave that good man's fame to take care of itself? Society is at least half inclined to believe that enough has been done in this way, and it will not be well that society should begin to smile at persistent efforts to add tribute to tribute. There is really no fitness in giving the Prince's name to the medal that is to reward the noblest of sea-service.