Book II. c. iv. The astonished Partridge meets the vengeance of the

Transcriber's Note: This book contain a copy of the index to both this

volume and to "Rowlandson the Caricaturist, Volume 2", which can also

be found in the Project Gutenberg collection. (In the index, pages

numbered ii. ###-### refer to Project Gutenberg e-book 45981, and in

the html version, are linked to it. Although we verify the correctness

of these links at the time of posting, these links will not work in all

formats or while reading offline.)

ROWLANDSON THE CARICATURIST

_FIRST VOLUME_

LONDON: PRINTED BY

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW STREET SQUARE

AND PARLIAMENT STREET

[Illustration: Tho^s Rowlandson]

ROWLANDSON THE CARICATURIST

_A SELECTION FROM HIS WORKS_

WITH ANECDOTAL DESCRIPTIONS OF HIS

FAMOUS CARICATURES

AND

A Sketch of his Life, Times, and Contemporaries

BY

JOSEPH GREGO

AUTHOR OF 'JAMES GILLRAY, THE CARICATURIST; HIS LIFE, WORKS, AND TIMES'

[Illustration:

DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE--HON. CHARLES JAMES FOX--LORD NORTH]

_WITH ABOUT FOUR HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS_

IN TWO VOLUMES--VOL. I.

London

CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY

1880

[_The right of translation is reserved_]

DEDICATED

TO

ALL LOVERS OF HUMOUR

PREFACE.

'Tuâ nobis est gratiâ.'--CIC.

We have need of your favour.

The Editor recognises that the admirers of Rowlandson's peculiar

graphic productions, and those fortunate amateurs who are able to

indulge their taste for collecting caricatures and works embellished

with humorous illustrations, will not expect any excuse for the

preparation and appearance of the present work: he anticipates that--in

spite of much that he would improve--the two volumes devoted to a

_résumé_ of the great Caricaturist, with the multifarious, ludicrous,

and grotesque creations which emanated from his fertile fancy,

will be accepted as, in some degree, supplying that which, without

being absolutely indispensable, has frequently been instanced as a

compilation likely to be acceptable to the appreciators of graphic and

literal satire.

To the initiated few this sketch of a famous delineator of

whimsicalities, with the review of his works, times, and

contemporaries, is offered with the conviction that the intentions of

the Author are not liable to be misconstrued by them; nor has he any

grounds to dread that the subjects represented run the risk of being

questioned at their hands on the grounds of propriety.

Fuller consideration is due to the many to whom the name of Rowlandson

conveys no more than a perception of 'oddity' or of license of

treatment which approaches vulgarity, to whom the innumerable

inventions of the artist represent foreign ground--a novel, strange

land, populated with daring absurdities, according to their theories.

It is felt that some justification is needed for the writer's temerity

in volunteering as a pioneer to conduct the unsophisticated through

the devious and eccentric intricacies which characterise the progress

of pictorial satire, as demonstrated in the subject of the work now

submitted to the public with all due deference.

The neophyte, it is anticipated, will be somewhat startled at the first

glance of the surroundings amidst which he will wander; but it is

believed that, in the course of his journey through an anomalous past,

he will alight on discoveries, more or less interesting in themselves,

which provide abundant food for the student of humanity.

The writer deprecates a hasty conclusion, with the assurance that those

who have the moderation to reserve their opinions until they have fully

acquainted themselves with the materials, may possibly suffer their

critical instincts to be modified in the process.

We have taken the liberty of scrutinising somewhat closely--with a view

to the portrayal of its salient features--a generation which was marked

with a colouring more intensified than those who live in our time are

prepared to adopt. Of this age, diversified with much which has been

discarded, we accept Rowlandson as the fitting exponent. His works

epitomise a state of being comparatively recent in actual fact, but,

from the circumstances of change, so distantly removed in appearance,

as to constitute a curious experience to the majority.

With every qualification to ensure success, Rowlandson, as his story

indicates, deliberately threw away the serious chances of life, to

settle down as the delineator of the transitory impressions of the

hour. 'There is wisdom in laughter,' says the sage; and--without

precisely regarding life as a 'stale jest'--our artist drew mirth

from every situation, and illustrated from his own fecund resources

that, while nearly every circumstance has its grotesque as well as its

sinister aspect, the ludicrous elements of any given event are often

more enduring than the serious ones.

Good-natured pleasantry, we may remind the reader, is held to be

wholesome. Rowlandson's shafts, so far as our judgment serves, were

never pointed with gall: while he possessed the faculty of seizing the

weak or ridiculous side of his subject, he seems, unlike Gillray, his

best-known contemporary, to have been an utter stranger to acrimonious

instigations. A fuller acquaintanceship reveals the Caricaturist--as he

was described in his day--'an inexhaustible folio of amusement, every

page of which was replete with fun'--perhaps the most genial travelling

companion who could be selected in traversing the ways of life led

by our ancestors, for the half-century which witnessed the gradual

extinction of the quaint, old-fashioned Georgian era, and inaugurated

the less picturesque generation to which our immediate predecessors

belong.

Be it recorded, concerning the part played in the world by the

satirists, pictorial and literal--'the less they deserve, the more

merit in your bounty.' We would modestly suggest the sapient axiom

embodied by the great master, 'Fancy's favourite child,' relative to

the transient jesters whose lot it has been 'to hold, as't were, the

mirror up to nature' upon the mimic stage: 'Let them be well used; for

they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time: after your

death you were better have a bad epitaph, than their ill report while

you live.'

CONTENTS

OF

THE FIRST VOLUME.

(1774-1799.)

_BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH._

PAGE

The prevalent taste for pictorial satires--Contributions to the

literature and history of caricature--Collections of caricatures

in national museums--Rowlandson's publishers--Scarcity of his

works and the avidity of collectors--Difficulties in the way of

forming a collection of Rowlandson's engraved plates--Rowlandson

regarded as an artist in water-colours--Examples of his

productions to be found in picture galleries--Establishes

himself as a serious artist, 1777 to 1781--His contributions

to the Royal Academy as a portrait-painter in oils--His

female likenesses--His versatile acquirements and imitative

fidelity--Rowlandson considered as a landscape artist--As a

painter of marine subjects--George Cruikshank's estimation of

Thomas Rowlandson--General review of Rowlandson's caricatures:

Gambling, the Westminster Election, 1784; political struggles

between the Whigs and Tories, Pitt and Fox, the King and the

Prince, fashions, the clergy, the Bar, usures, doctors, quackery,

John Bull, foreigners, cockneys, countrymen, the Universities,

collegians, the military, the navy, seaport sketches, amusements

of the _bon-ton_, Vauxhall, the Opera, theatres, card-playing,

sharpers, drinking, feasting, sport, fox-hunting, horse-racing,

prize-fighting, rural sports, masquerading, picnic revels,

fortune-hunters, elopements, Gretna Green, travesties, parodies,

and burlesques, trials, scandals, housebreaking, highway

robberies, the passions, the Royal Family--Imitations of the old

masters: Female studies, _croquis_ taken in France, Holland,

Belgium, Germany, England and Wales, the metropolis--The Regency

struggle--Admiral Lord Nelson--The miseries of human life--The

Great French Revolution--Napoleon Buonaparte--The Delicate

Investigation--The Royal Academy, &c., &c.--Manifold production

of drawings--Contributions to book illustration--Portraits

of the caricaturist--The artist and his relatives--His

schoolfellows--A student in Paris--At the Academy schools--His

early friends Bannister and Angelo--Tricks on the Royal

Academicians--His friends Pyne and John Thomas Smith--Studies

of Continental character--Between London and Paris--Is left a

fortune--His passion for the gambling-table--The integrity of

his conduct--Successive exhibits at the Royal Academy--Portraits

in oil--His travels at home and abroad; the companions of

his excursions; Mitchell the banker and Henry Wigstead

the magistrate--Congenial spirits--Vauxhall Gardens--Lord

Barrymore--Nocturnal frolics--Play--Successive drawings of social

satires, contributed to the Royal Academy Exhibitions--Rowlandson

robbed--Identifies a thief--Lord Howe's victory--French

prisoners--Sketches of the embarkation of the expedition for

La Vendée--Sojourns in Paris with Angelo, John Raphael Smith,

Westmacott, and Chasemore--Sketching in the Netherlands and

Germany with Mitchell--John Bull on his travels--Night auctions

of pictures, drawings, and prints--Old Parsons, 'Antiquity'

Smith, Edwin, Greenwood, Hutchins, Heywood--Relaxations

of the period--Nights at Mitchell's--Wigstead and 'Peter

Pindar'--Wolcot's stories--Dinners with Weltjé at

Hammersmith--The Prince of Wales--Theatrical worthies, Munden,

Palmer and Madame Banti--Convivialities--The Prince's Maître

d'Hôtel: his cooking and anecdotes--Excursions in England: views

in Cumberland, Cornwall, Devon, Somerset, Norfolk, Suffolk,

Kent, Hampshire, &c.--Studies in the Universities: views of the

Colleges of Oxford and Cambridge--Malcolm's 'Historical Sketch

of the Art of Caricaturing'--Wright's 'History of Caricature

and Grotesque in Literature and Art'--Rowlandson as an etcher

of the works of amateur caricaturists: his own spirit lent

to the productions of Wigstead, Nixon, Woodward, Bunbury,

Collings, &c.--Sketches of contemporary caricaturists: William

Henry Bunbury, George Moutard Woodward, Henry Wigstead, the

facetious John Nixon--The Beef-steak Club--The 'well-bread

man'--Collings, artist and editor of the 'Public Ledger'--Caleb

Whiteford--'Ephraim Hardcastle'--James Heath--George

Morland--James Gillray--Allusions to Rowlandson in the 'Life of

James Gillray, the Caricaturist, with the Story of his Works

and Times'--The position of caricaturists in relation to their

contemporaries--Henry Angelo, the fencing master--Personal

characteristics of satirists--Rowlandson's publisher, Rudolph

Ackermann: sketch of his life--_Conversazioni_ at the 'Repository

of Arts'--Special qualities of Rowlandson's productions--Esteem

in which he was held by contemporaries--His death and funeral 1

1774-1781.

_EARLY PRODUCTIONS._

A Rotation Office--The Village Doctor--A Scene at

Streatham--Bozzy and Piozzi--Special Pleading--The Power

of Reflection--E O, or the Fashionable Vowels--Gambling

Tables--Charity Covereth a Multitude of Sins--Bob

Derry--Luxury--Political and social caricatures for 1781 96

1782-1783.

Amputation--The Rhedarium--The Discovery--Interior of a

Clockmaker's Shop--The Times--Political and social caricatures

for 1783 107

1784.

_POLITICAL CARICATURES._

The Pit of Acheron--The Fall of Dagon--The Coalition--Fox and

North Ministries--Britannia Roused--The East India Company--The

Apostate Jack Robinson--The Champion of the People--Master

Billy's Procession to Grocers' Hall--The State Auction--The

Westminster Election--The Hanoverian Horse and the British

Lion--The Canvass--The Rival Duchesses--The Rival Candidates:

Hon. Charles James Fox, Lord Hood, Sir Cecil Gray--The

Devonshire, or most Approved Manner of Securing Votes--The

Poll--Fox, the Westminster Watchman--Honest Sam House--Lords of

the Bedchamber--The Court Canvass of Madame Blubber--Wit's Last

Stake, or the Cobbling Voter and Abject Canvassers--Monsieur

Reynard--The Case is Altered--The Hustings--Procession of

the Hustings after a Successful Canvass--Lord Lonsdale--The

Westminster Mendicant--The Westminster Deserter Drumm'd out

of the Regiment--Court Influence--Preceptor and Pupil--Secret

Influences Directing the New Parliament--For the Benefit of the

Champion--The Petitioning Candidate--Christopher Atkinson, a

'Rogue in Grain'--John Stockdale, the 'Bookselling Blacksmith' 111

_SOCIAL CARICATURES._

A Sketch from Nature--English Curiosity--Counsellor and

Client--La Politesse Françoise--1784, or the Fashions of

the Day--The Vicar and Moses--Money-lenders--Bookseller

and Author--The Historian Animating the Mind of a Young

Painter--Billingsgate--Illustrations of Conveyances--Rowlandson's

imitations of modern drawings 145

1785.

The Fall of Achilles--The Golden Apple, or the Modern

Paris--Defeat of the High and Mighty Balissimo Corbettino

and his Famed Cecilian Forces--The Wonderful Pig--The

Waterfall--Comfort in the Gout--VAUXHALL GARDENS: Vauxhall

Characters--Vincent Lunardi: Aërostation Out at Elbows, or

the Itinerant Aëronaut--Too Many for a Jew--An Essay on the

Sublime and Beautiful--The Maiden Speech--Captain Epilogue--Col.

Topham Endeavouring with his Squirt to Extinguish the Genius of

Holman--Persons and Property Protected by Authority--Intrusion on

Study, or the Painter Disturbed--Courtship--Filial Affection, or

a Trip to Gretna Green--The Reconciliation, or the Return from

Scotland--Lord Eden and Gen. Arnold--Harmony--Sympathy--John

Gilpin--Tastes Differ--Nap in the Country--Nap in Town--Sea

Amusement, or Commander-in-Chief of Cup and Ball on a

Cruise--Opera Boxes 152

1786.

Box Lobby Loungers--Love and Learning--Sketch of Politics in

Europe, January 1786--Uncle Toby (the Duke of Richmond)--An

Ordnance Dream, or Planning Fortifications--Luxury--Misery--The

Morning Dram--Count Boruwloski (the Polish Dwarf) Performing

before the Grand Seigneur--Brewers' Drays--Youth and Age--Sailors

Carousing--A Theatrical Chymist--The Return from Sport--A Box

Lobby Hero--Werter--Covent Garden Theatre--Illustrations to the

poems of 'Peter Pindar' (Dr. Wolcot)--'Picturesque Beauties of

Boswell' 180

1787.

Uncle George and Black Dick--Illustration to Peter

Pindar's poems, 'The Lousiad,' 'Peter's Pension,' 'Odes

for the New Year'--The Triumph of Sentiment--The Triumph

of Hypocrisy--Transplanting of Teeth (Baron Ron)--The

Village Forge--A Brewer's Dray--A Posting Inn--A Rural

Halt--Haymakers--A Sailor's Family--A College Scene, or a

Fruitless Attempt on the Purse of Old Squaretoes--Tragedy

Spectators--Comedy Spectators--Love in the East--The Art of

Scaling--Modish--Prudent--Cribbage Players 199

1788.

Hunting Series--The Meet--The Humours of St. Giles's--Warren

Hastings--Ague and Fever--Lord Hood--The School for Scandal--The

King's Illness--Filial Piety--The Prospect before us--The Regency

Struggle--The Restrictions--The Addresses--The Word-Eater--Blue

and Buff Loyalty--Housebreakers--Love and Dust--Luxury and

Desire--Lust and Avarice--Stage Coach and Basket--An Epicure--A

Comfortable Nap in a Post-chaise--A Fencing Match--The

Pea-Cart--A Print Sale 223

1789.

The Regency Restrictions--The Modern Egbert, or the King

of Kings--The Pittfall--The Propagation of a Truth--Loose

Principles--State Butchers--A New Speaker--Britannia's

Support, or the Conspirators Defeated--Going in State to the

House of Peers--A Sweating for Opposition--Irish Ambassadors

Extraordinary--Address from the Parliament of Ireland to the

Prince of Wales--The Prince's Answer--The King's Recovery--Irish

Ambassador's Return--Rochester Address--Grand Procession to

St. Paul's on St. George's Day, 1798--Sergeant Kite (Duke of

Orleans) Recruiting at Billingsgate--Grog on Board--Tea on

Shore--Interruption, or Inconvenience of a Lodging House--A

Sufferer for Decency--The Start--The Betting Post--The

Course--The Mount--Bay of Biscay--Chelsea Reach--La Place des

Victoires, Paris--A Dull Husband 242

1790.

Tythe Pig--A Roadside Inn--Frog-Hunting--A Butcher--Repeal of

the Test Act--A French Family--Kick-up at a Hazard Table--Who

Tells First for a Crown--Philip Thicknesse--'An Excursion to

Brighthelmstone, made in the year 1789'--Saloon at the Pavilion,

Brighton--Waiting for Dinner--At Dinner--After Dinner--Preparing

for Supper--Four o'clock in Town--Four o'clock in the

Country--Fox-Hunters Relaxing--John Nichols--Miniature groups and

scenes 268

1791.

The Pantheon--The Prospect before us, Nos. 1 and 2--Chaos is

Come Again--Sheets of picturesque etchings--The Attack--Bardolph

Badgered--An Imperial Stride--The Grand Battle between the

Famous English Cock and the Russian Hen--A Little Tighter--A

Little Bigger--Damp Sheets--English Barracks--French

Barracks--Slugs in a Sawpit--The Prince's jockey, Chiffney--How

to _Escape_ Winning--How to _Escape_ Losing--Angelo's Fencing

Rooms--Notorious Fencers--The Inn-yard on Fire--A Squall in

Hyde Park--Illustrations to Fielding's 'Tom Jones'--Smollett's

'Adventures of Peregrine Pickle'--'Délices de la Grande Bretagne' 283

1792.

St. James's and St. Giles's--Work for Doctors' Commons--Six

Stages of Marring a Face--Six Stages of Mending a Face--Ruins

of the Pantheon--Hogarthian Novelist: 'Adventures of Roderick

Random'--Philosophy Run Mad--On her Last Legs--Studious

Gluttons--Cold Broth and Calamity--An Italian Family--The

Hypochondriac--Benevolence--The Contrast: which is Best? British

Liberty, or French Liberty? 306

1793.

Reform Advised: Reform Begun: Reform Complete--New

Shoes--Illustrations to Smollett's novels--Illustrations to a

'Narrative of the War'--Illustrations to Fielding's novels 319

1794.

The Grandpapa--The Foreigner Stared out of

Countenance--Traffic--The Invasion Scare: Village Cavalry

Practising in a Farmyard--A Visit to the Uncle--A Visit to the

Aunt--Bad News upon the Stock Exchange 321

1795.

Harmony: Effects of Harmony: Discord--A Master of the Ceremonies

Introducing a Partner 326

1796.

Sir Alan Gardiner--Portraits--An Impartial Narrative of the War 327

1797.

Theatrical Candidate--Views in the Netherlands--'Tiens bien ton

Bonnet, et toi, defends ta Queue'--Cupid's Magic Lanthorn 330

1798.

The Hunt Dinner--Illustrations to the 'Comforts of Bath,' in

twelve plates--'The New Bath Guide, or Memoirs of the Blunderhead

Family; in a series of poetical epistles,' by Christopher

Anstey--Views of London--The Invasion Panic: Volunteers and

Recruiting--The Hungarian and Highland Broadsword Exercise--The

Glorious Victory obtained over the French Fleet off the Nile,

August 1, 1798, by the gallant Admiral Lord Nelson of the

Nile--High Fun for John Bull, or the Republicans put to their

Last Shift--The Discovery--'Annals of Horsemanship'--The Academy

for Grown Horsemen--'Love in Caricature' 333

1799.

Cries of London--A Charm for a Democracy--An Artist Travelling

in Wales--Nautical Characters--An Irish howl--Etchings

after the old masters--St. Giles's Courtship--St. James's

Courtship--Connoisseurs--Horse Accomplishments--Comforts of

the City--Procession of a Country Corporation--Forget and

Forgive--A Note of Hand--Legerdemain--A Bankrupt Cart, or the

Road to Ruin in the East--Subjects engraved after designs

by Bunbury--Distress--Hungarian and Highland Broadsword

Exercise--Loyal Volunteers of London and the Environs 354

_ROWLANDSON THE CARICATURIST._

Buyers and readers of books, all admirers of pictures, drawings, and

engravings--in a word, the intelligent, and, let us hope, larger

proportion of the community--are well aware, if they are inclined

to search for information in respect to the celebrities of art, or

would inquire into the personal careers of the renowned pioneers and

practitioners of the serious branches of the profession, of whatever

period, school, or nationality, that numerous sources of reference,

tolerably easy of access, are open to the seeker without being driven

far abroad in his quest.

[Illustration]

There exist, as we are all thoroughly aware, abundant lives of artists,

dictionaries of painters, and other prolific sources of information

upon the practisers of the sober walks of pictorial art, with rich

collections of engravings from their works, in fact, a complete library

of delightful literature, which goes far towards proving that the

world at least acknowledges a slight interest in individuals as well

as works, and that people care to learn some particulars of the men

who spent their industrious existences, and devoted the gifts of their

admitted genius and application to the humanising walks of life, and to

the fitting illustration of the world's universal passions and history,

or to the delineation of the ever-varying beauties of nature under

picturesque aspects.

Wealthy collectors, the cultivated patrons of material refinement,

frequenters of picture galleries, those who love pictures by instinct,

art amateurs, and the hopeful and fervent student, have alike a

provision prepared for them in this regard, which happily leaves little

to be desired. The memoirs of artists--men whose domestic and inner

lives in so many instances teach lessons of gentleness, simplicity,

and singleness of purpose, of perseverance under difficulties; making

manifest to a world which is often slow to give them credit for the

gifts that are in them, the strong impulses of talent under untoward

conditions--are, for the most part, tender memorials, labours of love,

cherished productions of biographers, whose own natural qualifications

and trained appreciation of the subtler attractions of art have brought

them into more intimate communion with the memorable subjects of their

studies.

It has ever been a source of regret to the writer, since his youthful

fancies were first won by the marvels of grotesque art, and the

pleasant creations of the graphic humourists, that while the names of

the designers, familiarly known as _caricaturists_--who have enriched

the more playful branches of the profession--are household words, no

fitting memorials are to be found of the careers of these draughtsmen

of true genius; they knew their generation, as is instanced in the

inexhaustible memorials they have bequeathed their descendants in

their works, and while they were themselves thoroughly familiar with

the varied aspects and workings of the social life with which they

were surrounded, their generation knew them not, and took no care to

preserve any record of the capricious wits whose pleasant inventions

had often afforded them enjoyment. The humourists, who did so much

to contribute towards the amusement of others, have been suffered to

pass away, in too many cases, as impersonalities. The works of their

fanciful and fertile imaginations have been accepted on all hands

and allotted their recognised position among the other agreeable

accessories of life, while the gifted professors have, with one or

two notable exceptions, which make the reverse the more marked, been

pretty generally passed over, if they are thought of at all under

the relationship of realistic characters, as mythical beings, less

tangible--as regards their connection with the living people of their

generations, of whose persons, habits, and follies they have bequeathed

animated instances to posterity--than the most weird and fantastic

creations of their own pencils or etching-points, emanations of the

mind, whose utmost substance amounts to paper, and printing-ink, and

ideas.

[Illustration]

The whimsical conceptions which owe their origin to Gillray,

Rowlandson, Bunbury, Ramberg, Woodward, Dighton, Nixon, Newton, Boyne,

Collings, Kingsbury, Isaac Cruikshank, his son, 'the glorious George,'

the veteran calcographist, who has just passed away full of years and

reputation, Lane, Heath, Seymour, and a bevy of their contemporaries,

were in their day tolerably familiar, their etchings and sketches

were in the hands of the print-buying public of the period, and they

enjoy, as far as these relics of the past are concerned, a posthumous

reputation which varies according to the merits of their productions,

a generation or two having assigned them their just relative positions

on the ladder of fame; all the inimitable amusing travesties which

reproduce the manners, and even the sentiments of past celebrities

and perished generations, owe their creation to artists who were

suffered to labour in partial obscurity; while the creatures of their

brains were in the hands of every one, their contemporaries, for the

most part, did not trouble themselves sufficiently to reflect whether

the designers had any real existence, possibly classing the actual,

practical, living, and working men under the category of abstract ideas

in their own minds, impalpable atomies, less substantial than their

tangible satirical pictures, which enjoyed a popular circulation.

The late Thomas Wright, F.S.A. (with the collaboration of an earnest

worker in the same field, the late F. W. Fairholt, F.S.A., who

contributed the valuable aid of his pencil), has done a great deal for

the subject in his 'History of the Grotesque in Literature and Art,'

and still more in his 'Caricature History of the Three Georges.' 'The

Caricature History of the Fourth George,' which offers a still wider

field of selection, as regards political and pictorial squibs and

satires, has yet to appear.

[Illustration]

A preliminary contribution to the history of caricature, as an attempt

to repair in some measure the oversight of indifferent contemporaries,

'The Works of James Gillray the Caricaturist, with the Story of his

Life and Times,' published under the auspices of Messrs. Chatto and

Windus, has already met with a favourable reception at the hands of the

press and the public; the present writer devoted several years to the

completion of the volume, with the solitary end in view of associating

the artist more intimately with his works, in the estimation of the

public, before it was too late. Mr. Thomas Wright, as an indefatigable

pioneer in a comparatively unbeaten track, deserved personal

recognition on the strength of his important contributions, bearing on

the political history of the House of Hanover, as duly set forth in the

present writer's introduction, and to his name was offered such repute

as was conferred by the editorship.

The writer, from his gleanings in the same direction, has been able

to offer the public a sketch of the 'Life of Henry Bunbury the

Caricaturist,' with slighter _croquis_ of his contemporaries. During

the interval since the first intention of compiling the present

volume as a further contribution to the literature of caricature

assumed a definite form, some ten years back, the preparation of

the work, imperfect and incomplete as it confessedly must remain--a

mere _ébauche_ at best--has been proceeding by slow and toilsome

stages, the self-imposed task being rendered a more difficult one

than in the instance of James Gillray,[1] from the disheartening

circumstance that it is utterly impossible to arrive at anything

approaching a comprehensive view of the works of Rowlandson; no

adequate collection being in existence, as far as the writer has

discovered, with the possible exception of an accumulation in the

hands of Mr. Harvey of St. James's Street, the advantages of which

gathering (it has been going on steadily for years) have hitherto

remained inaccessible to the editor, the possessor's time having been

too occupied by the requirements of his other engagements to permit

him to arrange the prints as he wishes. This circumstance is to be

regretted, since Mr. Harvey admits the personal interest he feels in

caricature, upon which, when communicatively inclined, he is able to

furnish very valuable information, in part the results of his own wide

experience as a purchaser, and still more, perhaps, of painstaking

investigations conducted for his private delectation; as his position

and opportunities enable him to gratify his tastes in this direction

to the fullest extent, it is hinted that on occasions he may feel

disposed to furnish the critic with certain valuable facts of a special

nature, drawn from the results of his own practical investigations in

directions not generally available. This gentleman is, undoubtedly,

an authority, and as, it is believed, he possesses unrivalled

opportunities for forming a unique collection of prints by any master

whose works he may fancy, the writer has, from season to season for

the past six years, deferred the completion of his volume on the faith

of a generous-sounding promise that he should be allowed to consult

Mr. Harvey's collection of prints by Rowlandson, which, according to

his knowledge, must be both interesting and valuable, and may possibly

contain a great deal that has escaped his previous researches, however

zealously they may have been instituted.

[Illustration]

The sacrifice of time, labour, and patience involved in attempting

to compile anything approaching a fairly compendious summary of

Rowlandson's etchings is simply incredible. The desire to furnish a

complete catalogue, though seemingly reasonable in itself at the first

glance, is discovered upon experience to be practically impossible, and

hence out of the question as regards arrangement; the productions of

the artist, multiplied by pen, graver, and etching-point, as supplied

by the hand of the master, or reproduced by other engravers, are

legion, and where the examples are scattered no amount of application

can adequately ascertain.

As far as kindly assistance is concerned, the writer has to

acknowledge, with sincere gratitude, that where his previous experience

has taught him to anticipate courtesies, he has been gratified in the

highest degree, and he is proud to record that he once more finds

himself indebted for cordial sympathy to the best qualified experts of

the day.

[Illustration]

Mr. G. W. Reid,[2] the respected keeper of the prints and drawings

in the British Museum, with Messrs. Fagan and Donaghue, urbane

members of his staff, have at all times made his access easy to

the invaluable collection of social and political caricatures in

his department; Mr. George Bullen (whose affability and scholarly

acquirements are proverbial), the respected keeper of the printed

books in the same magnificent national institution, has been able to

facilitate the writer's quest of illustrations and caricatures by

Rowlandson, so far as they come within the scope of the important

department which that gentleman so efficiently administers; the

obliging and accomplished custodian of the superb collection belonging

to the _Bibliothèque Nationale_ of France has most readily allowed

the writer to avail himself of the select and valuable gathering of

caricatures by Rowlandson, which are to be found under his charge.

It must be mentioned that the caricature resources of the royal

collection in the museum at Brussels were as courteously placed at his

service by the well-informed custodian, who, it may be added, takes

a considerable individual interest in this branch as illustrative of

men and manners under special aspects. The writer has pursued his

perquisitions as far as the national state collection of engravings

contained in the Trippenhuizen Museum, Amsterdam. These magnificent

national institutions are all, more or less, rich in caricatures of

an historical description, but unfortunately, as regards the success

of the present undertaking, the works of Rowlandson, numerous as

they are, happen to be the reverse of the strong features of their

collections of satirical prints, either political or social. The writer

has accordingly been thrown back, to a dispiriting extent, on his own

necessarily restricted resources; and the numerous illustrations which

accompany this volume are for the most part unavoidably drawn from his

own folios.

The principal source from whence it was hoped the best information

could be detached proved utterly and exceptionally valueless; the

writer refers to the important publishing establishments (and the

successors who carry on the firms at the present day), whence the

far-famed caricatures were originally issued. The firms of the

Humphries, Hollands, Jackson, J. R. Smith, and others under whose

auspices the artist's earliest, and in several instances most finished

and ambitious works, first secured their lasting reputation, have long

become extinct, as far as the editor is informed. But three leading

print-publishing houses, established by Rowlandson's principal patrons,

to whom the publication of the major part of his works was due, are

still flourishing, under conditions modified to harmonise with the

requirements of the present age, by descendants and successors of

the well-known founders. These resources have proved, however, a

disappointing failure, as far as assistance towards the compilation of

a catalogue of the artist's productions is concerned. To Mr. Rudolph

Ackermann, the respected inaugurator of the 'Repository of Arts,' a

truly liberal and enterprising gentleman, who will be referred to at

greater length in the course of this volume, Rowlandson (with many

other professional artists and authors) was deeply indebted both for

business-like co-operation, for the pains he took to sell the artist's

countless original drawings, for personal encouragement, untiring

friendship, and pecuniary accommodation. Messrs. Ackermann have

unfortunately preserved no account of the numerous publications due to

the hand of the caricaturist, and issued for half-a-century by their

respected firm, nor have they any collection of impressions from the

plates they gave to the public.

[Illustration]

The same observation applies to Mr. William Tegg, whose father, the

indefatigable and well-known Thomas Tegg of Cheapside, published

hundreds of the satirist's later and cruder caricatures, which were

more generally familiar in the windows of printsellers, &c., since

copies were multiplied to a larger extent than was practicable in the

case of delicately finished aquatints, which gave fewer impressions,

and commanded higher prices. Consequently, Rowlandson is better known

to the public by his least desirable prints, and under his most

common-place aspect. Mr. S. W. Fores seems to have issued an important

proportion of Rowlandson's larger and more valuable plates, with the

addition of an immense number of small subjects etched by Rowlandson,

and finished by clever aquatinters, published in a more costly form

than was generally the custom of the time. The successors of this

gentleman have mentioned that the firm has not preserved any list

of the publications issued under its original and well-recognised

standing, in respect to satirical production, as _Fores' Caricature

Museum_, but it is understood that, at the present writing, there

still remains in the house a collection, in huge volumes, of early

impressions from the multitudinous plates issued from the establishment

under its earlier auspices--a publisher's summary, in short, such as,

it is to be regretted, is rarely preserved for any length of time.

Unfortunately, owing to the exigencies of their modern print business,

the writer has not been permitted to consult this highly interesting

collection; he has, however, been informed, as an equivocal sort of

consolation for his discomfiture, by the member of the firm to whom his

application was addressed, that the major part of the prints, as far as

the works of Rowlandson are concerned, are of a political character,

and that the interesting and valuable social engravings are wanting; he

also learns that nothing of importance by Rowlandson is to be found in

this collection.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

It is worthy of note, that the majority of the caricatures described in

the present work, as published by S. W. Fores, belong almost entirely

to the more attractive order of social satires, and pictorial skits

at home and abroad, or cartoons levelled at the leaders of fashion,

holding up the prevalent follies of the hour to legitimate ridicule.

The writer confesses that he is inclined to feel a deeper regret

at his inability to describe these political prints, presuming his

informant, who certainly ought to know, is correct in this conclusion,

since he is unable to account for their existence, as amongst the

immense number of caricatures published by S. W. Fores, he has not

hitherto lighted upon the series in question. Rowlandson's political

prints--which, as the reader will realise in the progress of this

compilation, are numerous enough in all conscience--were mostly

published, as regards the early examples, by Humphries (a few of the

somewhat hackneyed Westminster Election set, 1784, were due to S. W.

Fores, it is acknowledged); while his later productions in this field,

such as the succession of plates attacking Buonaparte, were issued from

Ackermann's Repository of Arts, or circulated by Thomas Tegg (like the

series treating of that _Delicate Investigation_, the Clarke scandal),

according to the circumstances of the artist's employment or the cost

of the plates. Popular prices being a requisition in the case of the

sets published from the City, a coarser method of execution, with

unmistakable instances of haste, detract in an unqualified degree from

the interest of these prints, as instances of the artist's ability,

which is exhibited to greater advantage in productions where his skill

was allowed a more liberal exercise, as is evidenced in the capitally

executed plates published by the West End print-selling firms.

The hopeful chances of aid from fountain-heads, upon experience,

diminished to zero; and, while obstacles multiplied, the writer

found it necessary to redouble his energy. As it proved that his own

collection must, in the end, serve as the main source of reliance,

fresh efforts were made to increase his gathering, and valuable

additions were gradually secured. The process was somewhat tedious

and costly withal, but it was the only course left open, unless the

intention was renounced after the work had been advertised in progress.

Print-sellers' shops, at home and abroad, were ransacked, and auctions

of engravings were attended, whenever the alluring word _caricatures_

occurred in the catalogue. The supply was remarkably limited, the

demand considerable and increasing; and prices, from the nature of the

request, shortly became unreasonable. Choice caricatures, or those

in fairly good condition, were pushed up to nearly the prices of the

original drawings, and even at these enhanced rates but few examples

were forthcoming. In Paris, Brussels, and London, a five-pound note

became about a fair equivalent for a moderately fine impression after

Rowlandson, if the plate were large and the subject important or

curious, while for certain of the more sought-after examples, this rate

was doubled; for such plates as _Vauxhall Gardens_, dealers expect a

still larger price--indeed, five-and-twenty pounds have been demanded

in many instances. The chances of fresh examples by Rowlandson coming

into the market have decreased, and possibly the competition will relax

when there is no longer a chance of exciting it.

[Illustration]

The writer has necessarily made the acquaintance of several gentlemen

who are fervent collectors of Rowlandson's works, and he by no means

ignores his obligations to those happy possessors of rarer specimens,

who have frequently carried them off with an air of conquest from

discomfited rival amateurs, the condition of their purses, and the

artistic enthusiasm aroused at the moment, rendering similar triumphs

comparatively facile, when incidental questions as to actual worth are

too insignificant to engage the attention.

Certain collectors of eminence, who are discriminating selectors of

caricatures, well qualified to judge of their technical merits, and

who, further, are well posted up in curious and out-of-the-way points

of the political and social histories of the times thus illustrated,

have volunteered the results of their researches; these good-natured

offers have arrived too late to be available, but the writer is not the

less indebted to the kindness which prompted the action; in an earlier

and preparatory stage, these advances would have been of considerable

value and assistance.

[Illustration]

So much for the materials; perhaps too much stress has been laid,

as far as the reader's patience is concerned, on the preliminary

difficulties which have hindered and weakened the execution of the

writer's desire to reproduce, by pencil and pen, a fair gathering of

the works of our greatest humorous designers, an idea long cherished,

and tardily carried out, as regards the first part of his task,

_James Gillray_; and beset, as he has recounted, in respect to THOMAS

ROWLANDSON, the concluding portion, by unforeseen impediments and

technical difficulties which it would be tedious to enumerate; they

may, however, in a minor degree, be taken into consideration as a

plea for the obvious shortcomings of this laborious compilation, and,

while inclining rigid specialists to be less exacting, induce critics

to regard the unavoidable faults of the performance with lenient

forbearance.

[Illustration]

For the space of a century, Rowlandson's caricatures, which are more

properly _croquis_ of the life which surrounded him, have continued

to afford delight to the appreciators of graphic humour, from the

date, 1775, when he sent his first contribution to the Royal Academy.

It was only this year (1878) that a pair of his remarkably spirited

drawings, _Faro Table at Devonshire House_, and _A Gaming Table_,

attracted considerable praise and attention on the walls of the

Grosvenor Gallery. Although the artist was master of the most elegant

refinement, both of delineation and colouring, and produced the most

delicious female heads with that lightness and daintiness of touch

which was his peculiar gift, bringing all the graces, sparkle and

animation of the French school to bear upon the models of winsome

female beauty our own favoured isles produced for the exercise of his

pencil, we are constrained to admit, thus early in our summary, that

too many of his productions are strongly tinctured by that coarseness

of subject and sentiment which has been held to disfigure the works

of contemporary humorists; his wit, it must be remembered, was of the

jocose school of Smollett and Fielding, and in justice it must be taken

into consideration that his designs, even in their most uncompromising

and grosser aspects, simply reflect the colour of a period which was

the reverse of squeamish, and, as has been pertinently observed by the

late Thomas Wright, 'of a generation celebrated for anything rather

than delicacy.'

[Illustration]

The artist was pretty generally recognised as the famous illustrator

of _Doctor Syntax_ and _The Dance of Death_, and in this relation

he is fairly acknowledged by posterity; this limited view, as the

present volume is designed to demonstrate, being far indeed from an

adequate acknowledgment of his proper artistic standing. Rowlandson's

higher qualifications, as a draughtsman in water-colours of remarkable

merit, a portrait-painter of felicitous promise, and the originator

of countless witty and pointed conceptions, were discovered more

tardily. His surprising facility for representing the human figure,

with knowledge and freedom of execution, his marvellous power of

combining groups and crowds of figures in active movement, his grasp of

expression, and fluency of colour and handling, were more particularly

admitted (though in a sense they have since been lost sight of)

after the Exhibition of 1862, where two of his truly characteristic

subjects, of considerable size, made their appearance on the walls,

to the amazement and delight of the spectators, who had no previous

acquaintance with his whimsical genius. These two drawings, which

opened the eyes of the world to his gifts for a little season, are

entitled _An English Review_ and _A French Review_; they originally

formed a very noticeable feature on the walls of the Royal Academy in

1786; it is believed that eventually they came into the possession of

the Prince of Wales, and, with the rest of George IV.'s collection,

have remained in keeping of the royal family ever since, her gracious

Majesty, the Queen, being pleased to lend them, with other fine

representative examples of art, to the Exhibition Commissioners of 1862.

The _English Review_, and its companion drawing, a _French Review_,

hang at Windsor Castle, where we are informed there is a very large

accumulation of caricatures, drawings and prints, put away in a closet,

in the order of their appearance; which, it is likely, have remained

undisturbed for generations. It is not impossible that, hidden away

in this mass of satirical productions, may be found the series of

drawings, notoriously of a free tendency as regards subject, which

Rowlandson is understood to have produced for the delectation of George

IV. A collection of a similar description was, as we learn from the

same authority, destroyed by a nobleman well known for his princely

liberality, on the death of the patron who had selected the subjects.

In the unrivalled collection of water-colour drawings of the English

school, which are found on the walls of the sumptuous permanent

Museum of Art at South Kensington, are exhibited three characteristic

examples of Rowlandson's talents in the caricature direction. _The

Parish Vestry_, 1784, a humorous and spirited drawing, belonging to

the artist's best time, formed part of the munificent gift made by Mr.

William Smith to the nation; as did the second example, entitled _Brook

Green Fair_, which we should assign to about the year 1800. The third

drawing, representing _The old Elephant and Castle Inn, Newington_, is

also due to a liberal donor, being the gift of G. W. Atkinson, Esq.

[Illustration]

As has been related, the caricaturist produced thousands of capital

drawings, delicately tinted, excelling in all styles; and from these

original designs, he executed in turn thousands of spirited etchings

with his own hand, which were frequently coloured to reproduce the

first sketches, or aquatinted by engravers (sometimes by himself), in

imitation of drawings tenderly shaded in Indian ink, to which, in some

instances, the resemblance is sufficiently faithful to deceive the eye

of anyone who is not familiar with this method of reproduction.

It must be borne in mind--and we insist the more earnestly on this

point, as, from some incomprehensible wilfulness, it has seemingly been

suffered to sink out of sight for a time--in treating of Rowlandson,

that the man was essentially an artist; it is undoubtedly true that

he was gifted (perhaps we might consider fatally as far as his proper

estimation is concerned) with the faculty known as _caricature_, and

he excelled in burlesque, but his successes were sufficiently high

in other branches of the artist's profession to indicate that he was

equally qualified by original talents, by academic training which he

might have turned to the best advantage, by a sense of the beautiful

unusually keen, and a happy power of expressing his first impressions,

to take a foremost place amongst the best recognised masters of the

early English school, to whose body he might have been an ornament, if

he had not preferred his chosen calling of 'a free-lance' with a roving

commission to work mischief. His remarkable gifts of originality, ever

fertile, and apparently exhaustless, and facile powers of invention,

either pleasant or terrific, which seemed spontaneous, were in his

case insurmountable hindrances, instead of promoting his advancement

and reputation as a painter of acknowledged value and eminence. He had

the calamity--so fatal, in his and many other instances, to serious

application--to succeed without sensible effort; from the very first

his progress was a series of triumphs; none of the students of the

Academy could draw such ludicrous and yet life-like figures, and thus

his popularity with his fellow-labourers was assured; his studies from

the nude, both in London and in Paris, were wonderful for the rapid

ease and talent with which they were executed, and hence arose another

source of glorification, and although personal vanity has never been

mentioned in connection with the artist (he being thoroughly blind to

everything but his own particular hobbies), the professors at home

and abroad, and the members of the Academy themselves, were proud

to patronise in their classes such precocious ability, which could

accomplish the most difficult delineations without effort, and thus

reflected credit on their schools; and the prodigy who drew from the

life, in his youth, as vigorously and well as the most painstaking

adepts in their maturity, could not fail to receive a dangerous amount

of admiration, which tempted him to depend upon trifling exertions, and

left his ambition without a spur.

[Illustration]

While yet in his boyhood he was recognised as a genius, and was

unhappily flattered into becoming a wayward one; the very fluency of

his pencil, and the fidelity of his memory towards the grotesque side

of things proved his stumbling-blocks. It is with more than a passing

shade of regret that we reflect, with his far-seeing colleagues at

the Academy and elsewhere, how eminent a painter was lost in the

development of a _caricaturist_, admirable and unsurpassed in his own

branch as Rowlandson must admittedly remain. The gifts which were

in the man were marvellous, and beyond this he possessed nerve to

persevere, and manly resolution to sustain his exertions, as he proved

in his youth, and subsequently demonstrated when past life's meridian,

times then being less prosperous, since fortunes and legacies had long

ceased to fall in adventitiously, but the very excitement of setting

the little world wondering, and making the public smile, while his

tickled audience accorded him the cheapest popularity by crowding in

admiration round his travesties, turned the wilful artist away from

serious application, where no immediate fun was to be secured for

either the limner or his following.

Rowlandson's sense of feminine loveliness, of irresistible graces of

face, expression, and attitude, was unequalled in its way; several of

his female portraits have been mistaken for sketches by Gainsborough

or Moreland, and as such, it is possible, since the caricaturist is

so little known in this branch, that many continue to pass current.

From 1777 to 1781, five years of Rowlandson's residence in Wardour

Street, with all the freshness of his academic studies, and the

laurels unfaded he had won in the schools, with golden opinions, as

a youth of paramount promise, indulged by the most eminent of the

Royal Academicians and the French professors, the artist practised

the more laborious and prosaic, but surer branch of portrait-painting

with success, and his pictures were duly received by his patrons and

well-wishers amongst the omnipotent Forty, and found their place on

the walls of the Royal Academy Exhibition without a break--no barren

compliment when it is remembered that his compeers were Reynolds,

Gainsborough, and Hoppner, and that of the two or three hundred works

selected for the gallery at the period referred to, the superb canvases

of the artists named constituted an average of over ten per cent. of

the entire exhibits.

[Illustration]

If we but think for a passing instant over the winsome portraitures

of fair women, whose faces live, for the delectation of all time,

on the canvases of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Gainsborough, Romney, and a

few lesser luminaries, it is cruel to realise that Rowlandson, from

sheer wantonness (promoted by what seemed a happy hit in 1784),[3]

neglected his opportunities in the direction of portraiture, with an

indifference which, while proving his disinterestedness and superiority

to mere profit, is the more exasperating when we are frequently told,

as every one of Rowlandson's contemporaries who has mentioned the

caricaturist never fails to reiterate, that the successive presidents

of the Royal Academy, the great Reynolds, the royally patronised West,

the courtly and fashionable Lawrence, the very men we have mentioned

who were, it must be conceded, the most competent judges on the point,

pronounced their conviction that his abilities entitled to acceptance,

as one of themselves, a brother artist whose addition to their ranks

they would have gloried to acknowledge, since he had the undoubted

genius to reflect a lustre on the Academy, if he had exerted his

talents in the recognised channels, and withstood the impulse of his

notoriety for producing irresistibly droll novelties, which, as they

foresaw, must infallibly prove pernicious to the practice of sober

portraiture.

The versatile acquirements of our artist may, in a sense, be looked

upon as an infirmity, a theory which had been thoroughly established

while the subject of it remained in the flesh, and enjoyed a certain

perverse gratification in contributing to support its soundness and

perspicacity.

[Illustration]

In landscape art we discover Rowlandson successfully rivalling the most

respected practitioners in water-colours amongst his contemporaries,

and helping the younger professional generation, that carried the art

to perfection, to discard the obsolete theories of blackness for clear

translucid colouring. His studies after nature are much esteemed, and

are to be occasionally recognised in galleries and collections. It

is a sufficiently capricious circumstance which has come within our

experience--we have heard it asserted confidently more than once--that

Rowlandson, the simple harmonious colourist and ready draughtsman,

whose brush with limpid tints so deftly translated on paper the charms

of sylvan scenes; the truthful artist who pictured the forest, fall,

and glade, the distant hamlets amidst the foliage, the picturesque

windings of the silver stream, the rustic cottages, the cattle wending

leisurely through the fertile pastures, the mellow atmosphere, and the

far-extending horizon, is often held a distinct individual from that

other universally known Rowlandson--of equivocal reputation, it is

hinted--whose daring reed-pen produced grotesques which perhaps were

inimitable, but which, it is certain, were often indefensibly vulgar.

The artist's facility was so considerable that, had he been less

scrupulous (his horror of fraud and imposition, especially in their

pecuniary reference, was implacable, in spite of, or perhaps in

contradistinction to, his other levities), he could have allowed his

own productions, in the manner of his reputable contemporaries, and

even of deceased celebrities, whose subjects and method he chose to

imitate as a question of pure ingenuity--(while his own style is above

all difficult to reproduce)--to pass current as veritable originals by

the masters. A book of etchings consisting entirely of these imitations

is described in the course of this work, and he has managed to assume,

without copying any particular picture, the _modus operandi_ of the

artists, and has varied his own manner of execution and disguised

his salient individualities with such subtlety, that, even to the

etching-point, slight trace of Rowlandson remains to betray the

acknowledged imposition.

In his sketches after nature, as we have ventured to advance in

respect to his female portraits and delicious studies from life, in

many instances it is difficult to distinguish between the artless

rustic groupings and charming pastoral drawings by George Moreland

and Thomas Gainsborough, let alone those of Barrett, Hills, Howitt,

Pugh, and other of his associates (who executed pictures lightly

outlined with a reed-pen, shaded with a warm tint and delicately washed

with transparent water-colours, as was then the process),[4] and the

acknowledged contributions of our versatile genius to this department,

in the earlier stages of the captivating art of water-colour drawing.

[Illustration]

The writer, in the course of his preparation for this work, has been

at the pains to consult more than one well-recognised artist of

reputation and authority; seeking for hints from professors whose

celebrity extended well back towards the beginning of the nineteenth

century; these respected ancients, who are now nearly all gathered to

the shades to join the subject of this volume, being from their age,

knowledge, and experience, as well as from the traditions of their

earlier masters, most likely to know and remember circumstances of a

special character bearing upon the subject. Some of these worthies were

actually working as contemporaries of the caricaturist who departed

fifty years ago. The last time the writer met George Cruikshank, a

few months before that truly splendid old gentleman passed away, full

of years and honour, to his well-earned repose, he took occasion to

allude to the veteran's acknowledged admiration for the works of his

extraordinarily endowed predecessor, James Gillray, in whose footsteps

he had very literally commenced his career, being selected during the

lifetime of the gifted caricaturist (when Gillray's genius had proved

too exacting for the tension of his faculties, and his reason had

unhappily departed, never to be restored beyond an occasional lucid

flitter) to complete several plates which the attacks of his malady

had suspended. George Cruikshank, the most deservedly popular of the

name, was not a little proud of having been thought worthy, while

still a very young man (Gillray's faculties were deranged in 1811), to

take up the plates of the first genius that has adorned his art. With

the earnestness of his disposition, and perhaps with characteristic

partiality, he regarded the unfortunate Gillray as the greatest man, in

his eyes, who ever lived, indisputably 'the prince of caricaturists,'

as he has appropriately christened him, and this title, won from a

loving disciple, who, in his turn, became still more famous, is likely

to last as long as the great caricaturist is remembered.

[Illustration]

George Cruikshank voluntarily called on the writer to express the

interest he good-naturedly felt in certain slight records of past

caricaturists then publishing, and to communicate some valuable facts

about the works of his father, a meritorious artist whose reputation

would be widely increased if his pictures, exhibited at the Royal

Academy, were better known. On a subsequent occasion the cheery veteran

imparted various anecdotes on the subject within his knowledge,

but confessed that he had never been admitted to terms of personal

familiarity with either Gillray or Rowlandson in the flesh. It was his

father, Isaac Cruikshank--for whose graphic powers in the same walk

he expressed the best deserved and truest filial respect--who enjoyed

their intimacy, and it was he who related (with a genial force happily

done justice to by his descendant) to his deeply interested son the

circumstances with which George was acquainted.

The writer was naturally eager to gather, while there was yet time,

any facts which might be of importance for the furtherance of his

contemplated sketch of Rowlandson's career, which was then occupying

all his energies, from the last representative of the famous

caricaturists, who formed, in himself, so desirable a link with the

generation of the Georgian epoch, which had been dissolved into the

thinnest elements for three-fourths of a century back. Cruikshank

expressed the most cordial interest in the undertaking, and genially

declared, by way of an encouragement, which is the writer's most

appreciated reward, that he should look forward to its successful

completion, and further promised that if, in revising his notes, and

the personal memoirs, touching upon such kindred topics (which, as

he imparted, had long employed his leisure), he could discover any

allusions of an interesting description to his gifted contemporary

Rowlandson, or any similar memoranda left by his father, he would

communicate them for the benefit of the present volume. His death has

unfortunately prevented the accomplishment of this valued service,

which was volunteered spontaneously with his well-known readiness to

confer favours.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

The point about Rowlandson which had most impressed George Cruikshank

is somewhat original, and properly belongs to this part of our

subject; hence we have been glad to have an opportunity of quoting the

trustworthy authority of the aged caricaturist. 'Rowlandson,' said

George, 'was a remarkable man in most respects;' the waywardness of

his youth and the notoriety of his gambling days seemed to have rather

prejudicially influenced the mind of his simpler successor, who had

taken his place in 1827, as he had, almost of right, succeeded to

the working-table and unfinished plates of James Gillray, many years

before. Cruikshank, moreover, considered that Rowlandson's academical

successes, his successful rivalry of Mortimer in depicting the nude,

the knowledge of his art and the fluency he had acquired, were

altogether exceptional features in the profession of a caricaturist,

to his English views; but, according to his kindly creed, mellowed by

age--his steel a trifle tempered since his own youth, when his shafts

too were not without poignancy--'Rolley' was somewhat unreflecting,

and reckless in exposing the infirmities of others, having but scant

regard for his own reputation or the feelings of society, and further

he had suffered himself to be led away from the exercise of his

legitimate subjects, to produce works of a reprehensible tendency,

which respectable dictum will probably find numerous subscribers.

[Illustration: A SHIPPING SCENE.]

Strangely as it may sound, it was not as a caricaturist that Rowlandson

had gained Cruikshank's admiration; he appreciated the artist

enthusiastically as an accomplished water-colour painter, the equal in

his opinion of most of the founders of our special school. Rowlandson's

masterly power over the delineation of the figure, and his happy

gift, amounting almost to inspiration, of portraying female charms

of face and person, deserved high regard in Cruikshank's estimation;

his peculiarly felicitous pictures of quaint Continental life, and

the examples his free and scholarly handling held out, as admirable

models of style to the French caricaturists of his day; the social

sketches produced in Paris at the beginning of the century, though

remarkable for neatness and delicacy, being laborious, formal, timid,

and wanting in that racy comicality, and dashing power of expression,

characterising the drawings under consideration, to which George

accorded unqualified praise.

[Illustration]

It was chiefly for his skill in landscape delineation that Cruikshank

respected the artist under discussion, and more especially, as he

declared, warming with his reminiscences of the drawings he called

to mind, he had never seen anything superior, in his estimation,

to Rowlandson's water-side and maritime sketches, for their clear

freshness and simple air of fidelity to nature; the banks of the

river, the 'pool' filled with vessels, wharves, landing-places,

ports, and naval stations, with the noble men-of-war lying off; and

the bustling craft, travelling between the fleet and the shore; the

groups of busy figures, far and near, happily introduced in a state of

seeming activity; the shipping, which he drew with picturesque ease

and dexterity, his far-spreading landscapes and distant horizons, the

treatment of the water, the movement of his skies, and the general

sense of expanse and atmosphere, were beautiful in the extreme, all

noted down, as they were, without apparently a second thought, with the

slightest possible labour, recalling in a forcible degree the drawings

of William Vandevelde, who was, in Cruikshank's opinion, the only

artist whose marine studies could be quoted in comparison with those of

Rowlandson.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: THE QUAY.]

We are necessarily anxious to avoid the suspicion of attempting to

prove too much, and it must be admitted that we do not pronounce

Rowlandson a Rubens, a William Vandevelde, a Reynolds, and a Moreland,

all at once; any more than we can be deluded into the belief that

his landscape drawings might be claimed by Turner, Girtin, De Wint,

Fielding, or David Cox. In treating of our artist in relation to the

truly great names which have been frequently put into contrast with his

own, it must not be forgotten that his works are spoken of, as they

exist, under their modest condition of sketches manipulated in the very

slightest manner possible, and, if considered at all in juxtaposition

with those of the higher luminaries, it is only by the side of

studies executed under similar circumstances; it would be a piece of

pretension, entirely out of character on our part, to even suggest

submitting Rowlandson's attempts in the most respectable exercise of

his talents in competition with the more substantial finished and

ambitious pictures bequeathed us by the select few of really eminent

painters, whose unrivalled works cannot fail to afford the most

unqualified delight to all cultivated lovers of art of whatever school.

_Their_ productions are admitted to stand alone, even though there

exist diversities of opinion, schisms, and heresies in regard to the

generality of the profession.

* * * * *

In resuming our summary of Rowlandson's conceptions in the _caricature_

branch, we must notice, while contemplating his strongly characterised

works, that, while the rest of his competitors in the grotesque walk

have in most examples left no record of their prints beyond the plates

on which they were executed, for every subject he has produced of

his own designing, at least one corresponding drawing has existed,

and frequently three or four variations of leading ideas are worked

out as completed pictures, without, however, any appearance of

experimentalising under difficulties of execution--technical points

never puzzled his skill; and such daring flights as Rubens ventured

with the brush, in the way of foreshortened and difficult attitudes,

Rowlandson's reed-pen accomplished right merrily, as if by its own

volition, and without a thought on the part of its highly-trained

wielder, about such common-place requirements as the posing of living

models or preparatory sketches. The original notions of Rowlandson's

whimsical inventions are in the generality of instances far worthier of

attention than the most spirited etchings he thought fit to circulate

after them; and it is well to keep in mind that the artist has produced

some thousands of humorous conceptions (placing his more serious

studies out of the question), of which no engraving has ever appeared;

and amongst these unpublished delineations may be included several

of the most ingenious and attractive pictures executed by his hand,

especially from the year 1790, that is to say, for more than two-thirds

of his professional life--a circumstance with which every collector of

original drawings by this artist is thoroughly conversant.

The career of Rowlandson may be divided into periods; the work

belonging properly to the several stages is tolerably distinctive as to

general characteristics. An adept can positively determine, within a

year or two, the particular section to which his designs, when the date

happens to be wanting, may be justly assigned, and, as his manifold

sketches and etchings extend over the space of half a century, this

circumstance is a trifle remarkable in itself.

The first period, as far as his published plates are concerned,

includes his smaller social and political satires; the execution,

though free and fluent, as his productions uniformly were, exhibits

indications of care which is not so traceable as his method grew

mellower, and practice confirmed the facility which came to him as a

gift. These juvenile etchings bear more affinity to Gillray's manner of

manipulation than is traceable in his subsequent cartoons. A view of _A

Hazard Table_ and its frequenters (_E.O. or the fashionable Vowels_,

October 28, 1781) offers perhaps the best indications of his growing

powers, between 1774 and 1783. His publishers were Humphrey, Holland,

Jackson, and a few others; and he further appears, in conjunction with

J. Jones, to have gone into the publishing way himself, at 103 Wardour

Street.

[Illustration]

In 1784 the excitement of the famous Westminster Election seems to

have carried him more thoroughly into political satires, and, as we

observe, his humour discovered an unflagging source of impulse round

the parliamentary candidates, Fox, Wray, and Hood; the fair Duchess of

Devonshire, Lady Duncannon, and honest Sam House, the Whig canvassers,

and their opponents on the ministerial side, the Hon. Mrs. Hobart

(Lady Buckinghamshire), and the Duchess of Gordon; together with the

whimsicalities of the polling-booth. If we were asked to select his

most noticeable social and satirical effusions, we should incline

to particularise _English Curiosity, or the Foreigner stared out of

countenance_; 1784, _or the Fashions of the Day_; and _A Sketch from

Nature_ (January 24, 1784).

In 1784, Rowlandson realised the full extent both of his powers of

fancy and his mastery of the art of water-colour delineation. He

discontinued the practice of sending portraits to the Exhibition of

the Royal Academy, in which he had persevered for five years, and

contributed in their places three mirth-provoking drawings, which

must have produced no little sensation amongst the visitors, who

were unaccustomed to such works. These were the inimitable _Vauxhall

Gardens_, which reveals his talents at their best, _An Italian Family_,

and _The Serpentine River_.

In 1785 appeared some of John Raphael Smith's graceful publications

after Rowlandson's more refined originals, notably _Vauxhall_, _Opera

Boxes_, _Toying and Trifling_, _An Italian Family_, _A French Family_,

_Grog on Board_, _Tea on Shore_; _Filial Affection, or a Trip to

Gretna Green_; _Reconciliation_; _Intrusion on Study, or the Painter

disturbed_; _Comfort in the Gout_; and several other excellent subjects

in his most finished manner, besides an animated scene after Henry

Wigstead, _John Gilpin's Return to London_.

Rowlandson sent five important and highly humorous drawings, displaying

advanced qualities in the direction of execution, to the Royal Academy

in 1786; those of the first consequence were _An English Review_, _A

French Review_, the pair exhibited at the International Exhibition

1862; _Opera House Gallery_, under which designation, as we suspect, we

recognise his _Box Lobby Loungers_, published the very same year; _A

French Family_ (published the year previous); and _A Coffee House_, of

which we can discover no further record.

Among the engraved works for the same year we must refer to the

print of _Box Lobby Loungers_, already mentioned, and _Covent Garden

Theatre_, as the most noticeable as to size, subject, and the numerous

figures introduced.

[Illustration]

Rowlandson sent four known works to the Royal Academy, the season

following (1787). They were _French Barracks_, a superlative drawing,

_Grog on Board a Ship_, _Countrymen and Sharpers_ (engraved by

Sherwin as _Smithfield Sharpers_), and _The Morning Dram, or Huntsman

rising_, engraved as _Four o'clock in the Country_, S. W. Fores

(October 20, 1790). All Rowlandson's contributions for this year have

been published; indeed, it is very possible, from the popularity of

the caricaturist's novel exhibits, that all the pictures he sent to

the Royal Academy were straightway issued on copper. There are two

exceptions, _The Serpentine_ and _A Coffee House_, of which the writer

has never succeeded in meeting impressions, but it by no means follows

that sooner or later they may not come to light, and it does not seem

unlikely that the first named, _The Serpentine River_, may be another

version of _Cold Broth and Calamity_ (published in 1792).

Amongst the engraved works of 1787, the writer instances _Baron Ron's

Dental Surgery, or Transplanting of Teeth_, and a series of five

_Hunting Scenes_, _The Morning_, _The Meet_, _The Run_, _The Death_,

and _The Dinner_, published in a folio size, and now somewhat rarely

met with as a set.

In the two succeeding years Rowlandson again threw his etching-point

into party conflicts, and came out with a shower of political squibs

on the amenities of the _Regency Struggle_. Nothing very ambitious in

the way of social satires appeared in 1788. Among minor subjects we may

allude to _Housebreakers_, _A Cart Race_, _The School for Scandal_, _A

Fencing Match_, _A Print Sale_, _Lust and Avarice_, and _Luxury and

Desire_, as being slightly above the average. In 1789 and 1790 but few

works of exceptional character were issued to gratify Rowlandson's

devoted admirers or the general public. _She don't deserve it!_ _Don't

he deserve it?_ _A Racing Series_, _The Course_, _The Betting Post_,

_The Mount_, _The Start_, and _A Fresh Breeze_, take the lead. _La

Place des Victoires à Paris_ belongs to 1789, and, in the writer's

estimation, it is perhaps one of the most attractive subjects due to

the artist's pencil, exhibiting, as it does, the quaint surroundings of

Parisian life, as noted by the caricaturist before the Revolutionary

era--delineations of feminine beauty, and studies of real character,

such as no effort of the imagination could fabricate, unless assisted

by travel, a familiar acquaintance with the locality, and keen

observation. A fitting companion is given to this delightful subject in

another important drawing, crowded with diversified life and animated

groups, produced in 1800; _The Thuilleries in Paris_, a reminiscence of

previous studies in the French metropolis, of manners noted anterior to

the destruction of antiquated fashions; the dainty _belles_ of _ton_,

and the picturesque society which might be discovered flourishing under

the reign of Louis XVI., before the inauguration of the all-devouring

Republic, which worked more change in a few feverish months of

turbulence, in which all the recognised phases of the past were lost,

than many sober decades had effected in their better regulated courses.

[Illustration]

The best of Rowlandson's publications for 1790 were _A Kick-up at a

Hazard Table_, in which, as may be supposed, he was perfectly at home;

_Four o'clock in the Morning in Town_, which was also in the artist's

way, and its companion, _Four o'clock in the Morning in the Country_;

_Frog-hunting_ (Gallic _gourmets fins_), and _Tythe Pig_, a fine old

English equivalent.

The year 1791 was richer in those more ambitious plates, which the

writer is seeking to identify, and several of the caricaturist's

choicer subjects appeared, etched by his hand, and finished in

aquatint, to facsimile the meritorious original drawings. _A Squall in

Hyde Park_ is one of the score or two of delineations of the highest

type, which adequately demonstrate the exceptional qualifications of

the artist; and these, we have no hesitation in averring, have never

been excelled in their walk, as far as executive ability, sense

of loveliness, grouping, movement, grasp of character, powers of

observation, and diverting qualities are concerned. Another remarkable

subject of extraordinary ability, founded on Rowlandson's Continental

studies, entitled _French Barracks_ (exhibited in 1787), and its

pendant, _English Barracks_, were issued this year. _An Inn Yard on

Fire_, belonging to the same important series; _The Attack_; _The

Prospect before us_; _The Pantheon_; _Chaos is Come Again_, in allusion

to the dilapidated state of Drury Lane theatre condemned by the

surveyors; _Toxophilites_; _House breakers_; _Damp Sheets_ and _Slugs

in a Saw Pit_, among the numerous lesser subjects, bring up the total

of the truly estimable works which gratified the public in 1791.

_Cold Broth and Calamity_, a skating scene representing disasters in

the park, from a ludicrous point of view; _A Dutch Academy_, drawn

from the caricaturist's experiences in the Netherlands; and _Studious

Gluttons_ were the leading plates published in 1792.

[Illustration]

_New Shoes_, a small, but delicate subject, belongs to 1793.

In 1797 appeared the admirable plates published after Rowlandson's

studies in the Netherlands; we cannot too highly commend such

inimitable originals as _Fyge Dam, Amsterdam_; _Stadt House,

Amsterdam_; _Companion View, Amsterdam_; and _Place de Mer, Antwerp_.

_Admiral Nelson Recruiting with his Brave Tars after the Glorious

Battle of the Nile_, was published in 1798; a series of _London Views_,

of considerable merit and importance, entrances to the great metropolis

from the four leading turnpikes; and a series of twelve plates

portraying the _Comforts of Bath_, are most worthy of attention in

the same year, as were some large studies of reviews of the Volunteer

Forces, held under the threat of the anticipated French invasion.

_Distress_, from a large picture, indicating the horrors of shipwreck

with tragic impressiveness, is assigned to 1799.

_Summer Amusement, a Game at Bowls_; _Doctor Botherum, the Mountebank_;

_Preparations for the Academy_; _and A French Ordinary_, were among

the noticeable features of the artist's publications in 1800; the

peculiarly interesting panorama of the Parisian world anterior to

the French Revolution, entitled _The Thuilleries in Paris_ was also

produced this year.

Rowlandson's skill as an etcher had further, about this time, provided

him with abundance of work in executing the humorous conceptions of

Woodward and Bunbury after his own characteristic fashion.

Rowlandson's plate of _The Brilliants_, and a long series of subjects

designed by Woodward, with many originals of his own, sufficiently

excellent in their order, but not of the first consequence, found

their way to the public in 1801. The leading print-publishers at the

West End, Rudolph Ackermann, S. W. Fores, Williamson, and Rowlandson

himself,[5] at his residence, 1 James Street, Adelphi, issued an

inexhaustible collection of highly ludicrous social satires, and

numerous patriotic and political subjects, during intervening years;

and in 1807 the name of Thomas Tegg of Cheapside was added to the

print-publishers who employed the remunerative talents of the

indefatigable caricaturist. Rowlandson also continued to execute

the whimsical conceptions of less qualified draughtsmen, and swarms

of comicalities--by Woodward, Bunbury, Wigstead, Nixon, and other

fashionable amateurs, who possessed the humorous vein, but lacked

the skill to give their ideas a fitting form for presentation to the

public--were put into acceptable shape, and etched by our artist at

this period.

[Illustration]

In 1808 appeared the long succession of _Miseries of Human Life_,

of which examples occur in previous years; and Rowlandson settled

down, somewhat grimly, under worthy Mr. Ackermann's auspices, to take

up the gauntlet against the dreaded Buonaparte, the great little

Corsican, against whom Gillray had waged such savage warfare until his

powers dwindled into vacancy, and George Cruikshank stepped valiantly

into the place of the colossus of caricaturists, and carried on the

combat with unflagging zeal and whimsicality on his own account.

Rowlandson's ludicrous attacks upon the ambitious 'disturber of the

peace of Europe' were duly appreciated by his audience, and the

demand for these blood-and-thunder caricatures increased monthly,

to the extreme delectation of the great British public, whose

antipathies to the conquering general were, at least, founded on sound

and excusable principles, and if the overflowing excess of their

detestation sometimes blinded the people to points of detail, and

wilful misrepresentations passed current, and rather swamped their more

generous sentiments--which were put out of sight for awhile--it must be

remembered that this patriotic zeal was well directed against the man

who had announced his august intention of subjugating England, and was,

by accord, considered as the common enemy, and anyone who had indulged

the temerity of openly acknowledging the grander elements of his

character, since pretty tolerably established, would have been flouted

by acclamation, and we are not sure but the national scorn would have

fittingly signalised such an unpatriotic enormity.

It is certain that the caricaturist's travesties of the little emperor,

his burlesques of his great actions, and grandiose declarations

(which, in themselves, occasionally overdid the heroic, and trenched

hazardously on the ludicrous), his figurative displays of the mean

origin of the imperial family, with the cowardice and depravity

of its members, won the popular applause; as did the satirist's

representations of the hollowness of Boney's vaunted victories, and

the treachery of his designs in the days of his success; and, when

disasters began to cloud the career of the mighty Napoleon, and

cherished projects were met with sickening failures--as army after

army, collected for the slaughter by schemes, lies, fraud, and force,

melted away, and the prostrate powers of the Continent plucked up

courage, singly at first and finally in legions, until the end of the

Corsican's glory arrived--the artist lent his skill to celebrate the

delight of the public, and the rejoicings over the discomfiture of

the traditional bugbear; glib cartoons were hurried off by Ackermann

and often by Tegg--the City competing with the West End in the loyal

contest of proving the national enmity to Buonaparte, by buying every

caricature--the more extravagant the better relished--that the artists,

who toiled like Trojans while the harvest lasted, could contrive to

furnish in season for the demand.

[Illustration]

A suspicion crosses our mind that, in too many cases, the incentive

was to gratify the hatred of the Corsican, rather than any remarkable

inherent merit that could be discovered in the satires; the best

of which were but feeble vehicles for the exhibition of the jovial

abilities of the designers; who, we dare venture to hint, found

themselves a little out of their element, plunged, as it were, in the

'blood and iron' theory, striking out with their etching points with

the most approved pantomimic vengeance! Very few of these mock-heroic

sallies imprint themselves on the recollection by the sheer force of

their own brilliancy, as was the case in the single instance of James

Gillray, in the past, and as happened--an undeniable test of the

veritable fire of genius--frequently with the cartoons of John Tenniel

within our own experience, when the magnitude of the occasion has

conjured up the inspiration, and rekindled the latent flame.

Our reflections upon the bellicose creations of Rowlandson and

Cruikshank, while their hostile vapourings continue irresistibly droll,

never stir the more passionate emotions or reach impulses which lie

below the surface; being risible, it is true, but the reverse of

inspired; and although many a hearty laugh may be enjoyed over the

ludicrous turn the twain caricaturists have, in spite of themselves,

given to situations of an avowedly tragic tendency, their very fury

seems an unctuous jest, their simulated earnestness takes a farcical

turn, and the result of a careful review, as the writer has made quite

recently, of their prolific slaughterous sallies, is the conviction

that, often unconsciously to themselves, they have chiefly succeeded,

from the inevitable bent of their innate humoristic impulses, in

burlesquing the fiery feeling abroad, which the public were contented

to gratify in pictorial guise.

It is certain that those discriminating critics best qualified to

appreciate the talents of Rowlandson and Cruikshank, who worked up the

anti-Corsican crusade contemporaneously, are continually disposed to

regret that the wondrous inventive abilities of these fertile designers

were not exercised in a more congenial field.

[Illustration]

Our caricaturist worked away, fierce and implacable, following every

turn of Boney's fortunes with a show of savage ardour, until the

idol fell in 1815. Rowlandson, in addition to the immense mass of

caricatures which he fabricated with unflagging energy, came out

brilliantly with several large transparencies, painted for public

exhibition, outside Ackermann's Repository, on the occasion of the

general illuminations, which fittingly signalised the successes of the

allied armies after Leipsig, the final downfall of the Emperor after

Waterloo, and the subsequent peace rejoicings.

A fresh subject for the exercise of Rowlandson's caricature

capabilities was furnished in 1809 by the scandalous revelations which

were disclosed, as evidence at the bar of the House of Commons, during

the 'inquiry into the corrupt practices of the Commander-in-Chief, in

the administration of the army.' With ill-advised weakness the popular

Duke of York seems to have transferred the exercise of the patronage

legitimately invested in his department, to Mrs. M. A. Clarke, a

clever and unscrupulous mistress, whose extravagances he had for

awhile contributed to support at Gloucester Place. The demand for this

exciting pabulum was sufficiently eager to induce the caricaturist to

bring out a fresh pictorial satire almost daily, and sometimes two or

more appeared on the same day, while the 'delicate investigation' was

proceeding, and the public interest in the circumstances remained at a

boiling heat. We are not inclined to argue that any of these ephemeral

compositions, superior as they were to the ruck of contemporaneous

productions, were worthy, in any degree, of the artist's graphic

powers, or were likely to contribute to his celebrity. For some time

Rowlandson's ambition seemed to cool down, and although he was working

hard, and producing a fair average of results, he appeared satisfied

to turn his skill to the most prosaic account, as the means of earning

a livelihood. He made no fresh efforts to astonish his admirers,

or to sustain his fame by novel efforts of genius, such as we have

particularised as appearing before the commencement of the nineteenth

century.

Among the countless caricatures, good, bad, and indifferent, according

to the circumstances of their publication, produced between 1809

and the close of the designer's career, nearly twenty years later,

we cannot direct the reader's attention to many subjects above the

generality of similar productions by Rowlandson's hand. It must be

borne in mind that the artist's opportunities for graceful delineation

had been considerably curtailed; the fair leaders of the old

picturesque generation, whose effigies beam so charmingly on Reynolds's

canvases, and the days of powder, flowing locks, silk coats, laces,

lappels, and their accompaniments, had gradually disappeared, and left

a prosier people, of sober exterior, in their stead. The difference

between the exteriors of Rowlandson's lively personages, at the earlier

part of the career, is so distinct from the outward appearance of his

surroundings, and of the world which continued to exercise his pencil,

at the close of his years, that it is extremely difficult, with the

evidence before our eyes, to credit that such extreme changes could

take place within the lifetime of one individual. The wanton cruelty of

time in dealing thus harshly with the delicious models, which at one

period seemed expressly constituted for the exercise of Rowlandson's

pencil, may have discouraged the artist, and given him a distaste for

exertions of ambition in which his heart had no part, while his fancy

still hovered round his retrospects of the brilliant scenes, at home

and abroad, that had met his sight in his gallant youth.

[Illustration]

A few of Rowlandson's plates in 1811 recall his best days, but we are

not too confident that the originals veritably belong to the year which

is engraved upon the plates; indeed, in two cases at least, _Exhibition

Stare Case, Somerset House_, and _Royal Academy, Somerset House_,

the caricatures are most probably reprints, with the dates altered.

This practice, common enough in his day, is productive of no slight

confusion; all Rowlandson's most popular conceptions, 'the palpable

hits' which held their own in the public favour, and were eagerly

secured, were republished from year to year, to meet the demand, and,

in most cases, the plate was freshly dated, as if the print had only

then appeared for the first time. This principle has complicated our

task, as it is most difficult to secure even a solitary impression of

the finer works, and but scant means exist of tracing them back to the

actual date, in the absence of any considerable collections to which

the student may apply for purposes of reference and comparison. If

the reader will be at the pains to consult the 'Appendix,' containing

the nearest approach to an arrangement of Rowlandson's works, under

the years of publication, the writer could arrive at under existing

circumstances, it will be seen that the same caricatures frequently

reappear, with altered dates, for successive years.

In the latter part of the artist's career, although he executed a great

many works of interest in themselves, and his inexhaustible social

satires are often meritorious, and always ingenious, his best talents

were devoted to the production of original drawings for immediate

sale. They were chiefly disposed of through the assistance of Rudolph

Ackermann, 101 Strand; and S. W. Fores, Piccadilly. Both these steady

patrons of the declining years of a genius, who must, in a sense, have

found the close of his life exposed to somewhat chilling influences,

are reported, on good authority, to have held hundreds of Rowlandson's

original drawings, scrap-books, and portfolios, filled with his

admirable sketches at the time of his death; but these collections have

of course been since dispersed.

[Illustration]

In addition to the immense gathering of water-colour drawings left by

Rowlandson, which had accumulated in the possession of those respected

gentlemen with whom he held business relations, there were several

fine collections, formed about the same period, to be found in the

possession of his intimates. Mitchell the banker, his constant friend

in town, with whom Rowlandson frequently travelled on the Continent,

had secured the most remarkable gallery of the artist's diversified

views abroad, and particularly his sketches of life and character in

France and the Netherlands, the latter being the most remarkable for

broad humour. Henry Angelo, the fencing-master, and Bannister, the

comedian, ancient school-fellows of the caricaturist, and, as will be

seen, faithful comrades through life, were also steady collectors of

his picturesque eccentricities, and many noblemen, and celebrities

of the day--among them is mentioned the name of the dashing, and

somewhat irrepressible, Lord Barrymore--took a pride in filling their

folios with his works, which, as we are told, they justly esteemed 'an

inexhaustible fund of amusement.'

A few later collections, with the names of the owners, and the titles

of the leading subjects, are mentioned at the end of this volume, with

a view to completing the interest of the subject, and affording a

slight indication of the whereabouts of many of his productions.

* * * * *

It appears from the statements of Rudolph Ackermann, Rowlandson's

industry was such that the considerate owner of the fashionable

Repository--favourite lounge of the dilettanti as it was--at last

found it difficult, as regards the selling department, to keep pace

with his friend's creative abilities. In short, the artist produced

drawings faster than the public, as it seems evident, felt inclined to

purchase them for the time being, and it became a perplexing problem

how to increase the demand proportionately to the supply; for the

multiplication of the sketches for awhile--probably under the spur of

some emergency, or the pressure of apprehensions for the future--became

so overwhelming that the worthy publisher, in his relation as a

practical man of business, fancied he foresaw the approaching

depreciation of the value of Rowlandson's drawings making such strides,

on the strength of an overstocked market, he was afraid, in the end,

the artist's remuneration would be so seriously diminished, that it

would not be worth his while to persevere, unless a new line could be

successfully struck out.

[Illustration]

These anticipations were probably well founded, and we cannot but

acknowledge that our artist had discarded prudence, and become

thoroughly reckless--at least, as far as we can judge by appearances,

for possibly he had more confidence in the ultimate request for his

studies than was entertained by his friendly employers, and time has

proved the soundness of his judgment. If the story we are told of his

novel method of multiplying his drawings is serious, it will strike

the reader that Mr. Ackermann had reason to feel anxious, on his

_protégé's_ account. It is related that Rowlandson would saunter from

his neighbouring lodgings in the Adelphi, round to the _Repository

of Arts_, and, as the title of Mr. Ackermann's establishment was no

misnomer, every possible appliance was therein found ready to hand.

The artist would then order a saucer of vermillion, and another of

Indian ink, ready ground, from the colourist's room, with reed pens,

and several sheets of drawing-paper; he would then combine his inks

in the proportions he thought proper, in the flesh lines vermillion

predominated, in draperies Indian ink, shadows were a warm mixture of

the two, and distant objects were faintly rendered in Indian ink alone.

The outline was filled in on this principle, but, as the designer's

own manual and dexterous rapidity had ceased to satisfy him, he

had ingeniously discovered an expeditious method of multiplication

sufficient for his purpose, without resorting to the sister art of

engraving. The drawing was made on the principle essential in any

engraving which has to give impressions, that is, the subject was

reversed, right being changed to left--the only extra care required;

the outline was somewhat stronger, and the reed-pen more fully

charged than was the usual practice, and when the design was completed

it formed the _matrix_ from which, before the ink became fixed, by

means of a press, and paper damped to the proper consistency, it was

easy to print off duplicates as long as the ink held out. We are

rather inclined to speculate that, ingenious as the process seems,

in description, it would by no means turn out a perennial flowing

fountain, and two or three decent replicas would exhaust the original,

however judiciously manipulated. The copies obtained by this manifold

contrivance were corrected and strengthened, according to their

requirements; the series of impressions were then shaded with Indian

ink, so as to lend the figures contour and solidity, and express the

lighter distance; and then came the final tinting, in delicate washes

of colour, and the completed works were ready for introduction to

the public. The writer does not believe that this _modus operandi_

was ever followed up systematically; that it has been resorted to on

occasions, his own observations have demonstrated; and he confesses

to a passing acquaintance with a collection of drawings by the artist

(belonging to a gentleman of distinction, who is quite satisfied as to

their merits), which are for the most part the results of this system,

and he has more than once, in the course of his peregrinations, come

across the _matrix_ design, very spread and mysterious as to outline,

having been exhausted in the working, but shaded with spirit, coloured,

and sent into the world, a shameless left-handed production, craftily

smuggled into circulation to confuse collectors, and throw discredit

on its dexter counterparts. This accounts for a certain proportion of

the duplicates after Rowlandson, which are of frequent occurrence; and

often have purchasers felt their self-esteem lowered, when another

possessor of the same design in a firmer outline has assured them that

they have been deceived into buying a mere copy, oblivious that the

guilty pair are both due to the hand of the master, and that possibly

other members of the same illicit family are lurking in the folios

of rival amateurs. A grand central gathering of works by Rowlandson,

presuming a person of sufficient enterprise could be found to prosecute

the scheme of a comprehensive exhibition of the artist's works, would

reveal some curiosities in the way of reproductive capability.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

For the credit of our artist, and the comfort of collectors, we can

record our assurance that this crafty method was never persevered in,

the replicas issued under this illegitimate contrivance are confined

to a brief period, the temptation to flood the market was kept within

restricted limits, and Mr. Ackermann's business aptitude quickly

discovered a method of enhancing the caricaturist's reputation and

augmenting his means, without the necessity of resorting to tricks

of ill-advised ingenuity. The successful projection of a series of

monthly publications allowed the indefatigable projector--who exercised

a princely liberality in his dealings, as publishers go--to pay his

friend, the artist, so handsomely, that he was relieved from the

necessity of multiplying his sketches in any inordinate profusion, and

enabled him to take more time and pains, both in seeking his subjects,

and working them out at his ease. The results of this happy conception,

_The Poetical Magazine_, the three _Tours of Doctor Syntax_, and _The

Dance of Death_, enjoyed unqualified popularity. They were followed

by other works of a corresponding description, which were also well

received. The publisher had his reward; we have every reason to believe

that Rowlandson enjoyed his fair share of these successful ventures;

and continued to furnish book-illustrations, steadily following up the

new branch he had discovered for the exercise of his abilities. Mr.

Ackermann's enterprise provided him ample occupation. These octavo

prints were produced on the same principle as the superior plates

after his _chefs-d'oeuvre_ of the Academy period: a neat and carefully

finished drawing of the original design was first prepared (these

studies were afterwards purchased by Mr. Ackermann), and Rowlandson

etched the outline sharply and clearly on the copper plate, an

impression from the 'bitten-in' outline was printed on drawing-paper,

and the artist put in his shadows, modelling of forms and sketchy

distance, with Indian ink, in the most delicate handling possible; the

shadows were then copied in aquatint on the outlined plate, sometimes

by the designer, but in most cases by an engraver who practised this

particular branch, which a few experts were able to manipulate with

considerable dexterity and nicety. Rowlandson next completed the

colouring of his own Indian ink shaded impression in delicate tints,

harmoniously selected; his sense of colour being of a refined order

as regarded the disposal of tender shades agreeable to the eye.

His aptitude in this respect is quite as remarkable as his ease of

delineation; and, if his outlines can be copied with any approach

to deceiving the eye of a connoisseur, an attempt to imitate his

colouring, simple as it remained in its characteristics, is tolerably

certain to betray the fraud.

The tinted impression, which was intentionally finished with greater

delicacy and elaboration than the artist generally displayed, served as

a copy for imitation, which was handed to Mr. Ackermann's trained staff

of colourists, the publisher finding constant employment for a number

of clever persons whom he had educated expressly for this skilled

employment. These artists had worked under his auspices and personal

supervision for years, until, by constant practice, and the pains which

were taken by the publisher to improve their abilities, they attained a

degree of perfection and neatness never arrived at before, and almost

beyond belief in the present day, when the system has fallen into

comparative disuse. The assistants did their best to reproduce the

effect of the original drawings, and the number of impressions required

to satisfy the public must have kept them constantly at work, and

occasionally jeopardised their high finish.

[Illustration]

There is an amazing contrast between the plates issued from the

Repository, worked out like elaborate water-colour drawings, in

subdued, well-balanced tints, with the utmost lightness and skill of

touch, and the lurid chromatic daubs which pass current to the present

day, as Rowlandson's caricatures were issued from Cheapside '_price one

shilling coloured_,' after a school of vulgarity to which the panorama

of the Lord Mayor's Show _at one penny_, with its four yards of florid

tenuity, is quite a refined work of art.

We are not inclined to offer uncharitable reflections on Rowlandson's

City publisher; the caricatures--excepting always certain rougher

specimens, loosely executed enormities after designs by some of the

amateurs of the period, which indubitably belong to the slip-shod

order--are fair enough in their way, when one is lucky enough to meet

with uncoloured copies; it is the bad taste of his customers, the

respectable dealer evidently stooped to flatter, with which we are

inclined to disagree, and we think justifiably; for although it was

very good of the gentleman in question to issue so many copies of

his plates, with a providential eye to the future, that impressions

are sufficiently numerous to this day, all print-buyers must deplore

the waste of staring colour expended in making his publications

abominable to the sight of modern purchasers, and ruinous to the fair

fame of the designer, by the uncompromising use of three positive

pigments, red, blue, and yellow, to which, with an occasional brown,

the colour-box seemed restricted, in most cases liberally plastered

over the etchings-figures, sky, buildings and background being

treated to the same smart hues in undiluted garishness, which utterly

confuses the mind as to the meritorious qualities of the subjects so

bespattered, and has the sinister effect, deplorable in itself, of

compelling persons of chaste dispositions to dread caricatures as being

on the surface something worse than scarlet abominations, fiendishly

aggravated with additional lurid iniquities of a depraving tendency.

We have introduced Rowlandson in his later relation to the arts, as

a skilful and popular contributor of book illustrations; we cannot

leave this portion of our subject without offering a cursory review of

his various labours in this capacity, since the wider circulation of

printed publications has made his name more familiar to the great world

than the finest masterpieces already alluded to, which seem doomed to

remain unknown and inaccessible to the bulk of the public.

[Illustration]

The first independent publication we have to notice was simply a

gathering of subjects, extending over three or four years, collected

in 1788, and issued as _Rowlandson's Imitations of Modern Drawings_,

folio; including imitations of the styles of Gainsborough, Wheatley,

Mortimer, Barrett, Gilpin, Bartolozzi, Zucchi, Cipriani, &c.

In 1786, Rowlandson supplied G. Kearsley, the publisher of those

well-known satirical effusions of Dr. Wolcot, _The Poems of Peter

Pindar_, with illustrations to the first volume of the quarto edition

of these familiar works. This publication was continued the next

year. In a burlesque strain, Rowlandson also came out with twenty

illustrations, the drawings suggested by Collings,[6] caricaturing

passages in Boswell's _Journal of a Tour in the Hebrides_, published

by E. Jackson, small folio (1786). Our artist further supplied certain

plates in parody of incidents in the _Sorrows of Werther_, also from

suggestions by Collings, who designed a capital series of drolleries

in travesty of passages literally extracted from Lord Chesterfield's

_Polite Letters_.

G. and J. Robinson, in 1790, published the results of a trip to

Brighton, which the artist had enjoyed in company with his friend, the

frequent companion of his wanderings and frolics, Henry Wigstead, Esq.,

the sitting magistrate at Bow Street--_An Excursion to Brighthelmstone

made in the year 1782_, by Henry Wigstead and Thomas Rowlandson, with

eight engravings by Thomas Rowlandson, oblong folio.

There also appeared, in this and the following years, a series of

_Miniature Groups and Scenes_, published by M. L., Brighthelmstone,

and H. Brookes, Coventry Street, London; and a series of _Sheets of

Picturesque Etchings_, published by S. W. Fores. Rowlandson also

furnished numerous book-plates, octavo, to the series of novels

published by I. Siebbald, Edinburgh; among the works thus illustrated

we must particularise the novels of Fielding and Smollett.

The succeeding year (1792) our artist also contributed illustrations,

in large size folding plates, designed after suggestions by Henry

Woodward, to a quarto edition of Smollett's Novels. _Cupid's Magic

Lantern_, with illustrations, etched by Rowlandson, also after designs

by Henry Woodward, was published in 1797.

_The Comforts of Bath_, and the folio _Views of London_, belong to

1798. The same year the name of W. Wigstead, Charing Cross, appears as

the publisher of the following works:--

_Annals of Horsemanship_, with seventeen copperplates by Henry Bunbury,

Esq. Engraved by Thomas Rowlandson.

_The Academy for Grown Horsemen_, with twelve copperplates, by Henry

Bunbury, Esq. Engraved by Thomas Rowlandson.

_Love in Caricature_, with eleven plates by Thomas Rowlandson.

[Illustration]

The handsome and expensively got-up publications inaugurated by Mr.

Ackermann, began to occupy our artist in 1799. The first of this

well-executed series, with which Rowlandson was connected, was a set of

plates, accurately coloured in _fac-simile_ of the original drawings,

in square folio, described as,

_The Loyal Volunteers of London and Environs_, with eighty-seven

plates, designed and etched by Thomas Rowlandson.

Martial ardour being the key-note this year, when foreign invasion

menaced our shores, Henry Angelo and Son, who were appointed

fencing-masters to the Light Horse Volunteers of London and

Westminster, collected a series of subjects which the artist had

prepared under their direction, and issued the results of their joint

ingenuity as a supplement to the elder Angelo's _Treatise on Fencing_,

under the title of, _Hungarian and Highland Broadsword Exercise_, with

twenty-four plates designed and etched by Thomas Rowlandson, oblong

folio.

Another publication, issued by Ackermann in 1799, appeared as

_Delineations of Nautical Characters_, in ten plates by Thomas

Rowlandson.

In 1800, the results of an excursion to North and South Wales,

undertaken in concert by the author and artist, were given to the

public under the following description: _Remarks on a Tour to North and

South Wales in the year 1797_, by Henry Wigstead, with plates by Thomas

Rowlandson, Pugh, Howitt, &c. Published by W. Wigstead, Charing Cross.

Rowlandson also supplied some illustrations to _The Beauties of

Sterne_, a selection of choice passages from the works of that author.

A series of _Views in Cornwall, Dorset, &c._, appeared as a separate

publication in 1805. The artist contributed serious book-plates to an

edition of the _Sorrows of Werther_, in 1806. A smaller edition of

the witty _Annals of Horsemanship_ and _Academy for Grown Horsemen_

(portions of which are attributed to the pen of the convivial Captain

Grose, the well-known antiquary, author of _The Military Antiquities_,

etc.--the original design of the work with the illustrations belonged

to Henry Bunbury) was issued in a cheap form by Thomas Tegg in 1800,

the etchings being executed in a reduced form by Thomas Rowlandson, and

published under the title of _An Academy for Grown Horsemen and Annals

of Horsemanship, by Geoffry Gambado_, octavo. A collection of plates

portraying _The Miseries of Human Life_, consisting of fifty etchings

by Thomas Rowlandson, small folio, was published in a reduced form the

same year.

[Illustration]

The principal work, however, which appeared in 1808, was, and must

remain, a fitting instance of the enterprise and good taste of

Rudolph Ackermann, his liberal employment of artists whose abilities

were of the first order; while demonstrating the popularity of his

publications, which could guarantee the most considerable outlays, with

a successful return of the capital invested.

We refer to the splendid _Microcosm of London, or London in Miniature_,

with 105 illustrations by Pugin and Rowlandson, in three volumes,

quarto. A more extended notice of this valuable series is given in its

proper place in this volume, under the description of works for 1808;

although we believe the actual preparation of the plates extended over

some years.

We have also to notice:--

_The Caricature Magazine, or Hudibrastic Mirror_, published by Thomas

Tegg, and continued to 1810, 386 plates, in five volumes, oblong folio.

_The Art of Ingeniously Tormenting_, with illustrations by Rowlandson

and Woodward, octavo; published by Thomas Tegg, Cheapside, 1808.

_A Lecture on Heads_, by George Alexander Stevens, with twenty-five

illustrations by Rowlandson and Woodward, octavo, published by Thomas

Tegg, Cheapside, 1808.

_Chesterfield Travestie; or School for Modern Manners_, with ten

caricatures engraved by Rowlandson from drawings by H. Woodward (who

supplied the letterpress), duodecimo, was also published by Thomas

Tegg, Cheapside. 1808.

[Illustration]

In 1809, appeared numerous book-plates supplied by the artist to

publishers. Thomas Tegg issued an edition of _Sterne's Sentimental

Journey_, and _The Beauties of Sterne_, in a separate volume; both

_embellished with caricatures by T. Rowlandson_. This gentleman

also published an edition of _The Surprising Adventures of the

renowned Baron Munchausen_, with numerous original engravings by

Thomas Rowlandson; _The Annals of Sporting by Caleb Quizem_, with

illustrations by Rowlandson and Woodward; _Advice to Sportsmen,

selected from the Notes of Marmaduke Markwell_; with sixteen

illustrations by Rowlandson; _The Trial of the Duke of York_, with

Rowlandson's collected caricatures on the subject, in two volumes;

_Investigation of the Charges brought against H.R.H. the Duke of York,

&c._, with fourteen portraits by Rowlandson, two volumes; and Butler's

_Hudibras_, with five illustrations by William Hogarth, engraved by

Thomas Rowlandson.

Beresford's _Antidote to the Miseries of Human Life_, octavo, is also

advertised in 1809.

_The Pleasures of Human Life_, by Hilari Benevolus & Co., with five

plates by Thomas Rowlandson, &c., was published by Longmans, 1809.

It was in 1809 that Ackermann projected his _Poetical Magazine_, royal

octavo, which, it was arranged, should appear in consecutive monthly

parts, as a means of affording his friend, the artist, substantial

and progressive employment. The generous thought which prompted

this enterprise was fittingly rewarded by the successful reception

this venture secured at the hands of the public, and the patrons of

Ackermann's 'Repository of Arts.' _The Poetical Magazine_ was quite

a feature amongst novel publications; the famous plates supplied by

Rowlandson (two monthly), and the verses felicitously written up to

the caricaturist's designs by William Coombe, under the title of _The

Schoolmasters' Tour_, and introducing the highly popular _Doctor

Syntax_, formed the only important contributions to the Magazine, which

came to a conclusion (at the fourth volume), with the end of the first

_Picturesque Tour_.

The success which attended the appearance of the familiar _Tour_ was

altogether beyond the expectations of either publisher, artist, or

author. The etchings on the plates to _The Poetical Magazine_ were

worked fairly away and renewed. In 1812, _The Tour of Doctor Syntax in

Search of the Picturesque_, with thirty-one illustrations by Thomas

Rowlandson, was published in a separate form in royal octavo, a fresh

set of the much-admired plates, with but the slightest variations,

being prepared expressly, and these in turn proved insufficient to

supply the number of copies demanded by the delighted public. The

_Tour_ had a still larger success in its independent form, and several

editions appeared in one season; the request continued for years, and

was sufficiently encouraging to induce the projectors to follow it up

with a new series, _The Second Tour of Doctor Syntax, in Search of

Consolation_, with twenty-four illustrations by Thomas Rowlandson,

which also appeared in monthly parts, and was issued in a collected

form in one volume, royal octavo, in 1820. A third tour, in _Search of

a Wife_, was ventured in 1822, but this was evidently intended to be

the final sequel, as the hero, 'Doctor Syntax,' is removed from life's

scene at the close.

Returning to Rowlandson's successive contributions of

book-illustrations, we find a satirical work, _Munchausen at Walcheren_

issued in 1811; and a _Tale of the Castle_ (Dublin), published

by Stockdale in 1812, as _Petticoat Loose, a Fragmentary Poem_,

illustrated with four plates by Thomas Rowlandson, quarto.

The artist also issued a series of _Views of Cornwall_ in the form of

an independent volume the same year.

Mr. Ackermann had introduced, some years before, an illustrated

Miscellany to his subscribers, which ran a long and highly successful

career, under the title, borrowed from the circumstances of its

publication, of _Ackermann's Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashion,

and Manufactures_.

[Illustration]

In the pages of this admirable magazine were given many continuous

contributions of a valuable and interesting character, the contents

being as diversified as the description of the undertaking. Among

the serials were numerous essays of merit, which, in the projector's

opinion, were entitled to the distinction of separate publication,

and, at intervals, the discriminating proprietor of the _Repository_

selected various series of articles by his best qualified and most

respected colleagues in the work, and re-issued their contributions,

with the enhanced attraction of fresh pictorial embellishments, as

separate publications. In this manner a succession of _Letters from

Italy_, which had appeared in the _Repository_, between 1809 and 1813,

furnished by Lewis Engelbach (who supplied reviews of music; it has

been said his criticisms may be usefully studied by the most successful

living contributors to the press), were republished in 1815 in one

volume, royal octavo, as _Letters from Naples and the Campana Felice_,

with seventeen illustrations by Thomas Rowlandson.

Another deserving work, published by R. Ackermann, in the same

finished style, with coloured engravings in aquatint, delicately

completed by hand to resemble water-colour drawings, as were the major

part of the illustrations to this series, appeared under the title of

_Poetical Sketches of Scarborough_, with twenty-one illustrations by J.

Green; etched by Thomas Rowlandson, 1813.

In 1815 was published The _Military Adventures of Johnny Newcome_, with

fifteen illustrations by Thomas Rowlandson, royal octavo, printed for

Patrick Martin, 198 Oxford Street. This work is written in Hudibrastic

metre, by 'An Officer' in imitation of the flowing lines supplied by

Coombe to the _Tours of Doctor Syntax_. Another volume (1815 and 1816)

was published by Thomas Tegg, Cheapside, also composed after the model

of the same easy versification, under the description of _The Grand

Master, or Adventures of Qui Hi in Hindostan, a Hudibrastic poem in

eight cantos, by Quiz_, illustrated with twenty-eight engravings by

Thomas Rowlandson.

[Illustration]

The principal triumph of our artist's later years appeared in 1815

and 1816, Rowlandson inventing the subjects, and Coombe supplying the

descriptive versification, as was their usual method of proceeding in

the entire succession of publications, undertaken under this artistic

and literary co-partnership, and issued by R. Ackermann.

We refer to the _Dance of Death_, which had first been offered the

public in monthly parts under the old and highly successful system,

between 1814 and 1816. This production, which repays the most careful

consideration, received a flattering reception, and, in spite of the

grim nature of the subject, enjoyed surprising popularity, and added

considerably to the reputation of those concerned in its appearance.

We have no hesitation in recording our impression that the ingenuity

and invention displayed in the seventy-two plates illustrative

of the _Dance of Death_ are considerably in advance, in point of

invention, of the pictures supplied to its more genial and popular

rival _Doctor Syntax_. Both artist and author had arrived at a period

of mature experience, which qualified and disposed them to bring

their finest faculties to the treatment of this melodramatic theme,

in which they must have discovered morbid fascinations; since it has

enabled them to rise above their average efforts. As we have noticed,

although the conception is monumental, not to say sepulchral, in its

characteristics, and on occasions, ghastly in its humour, the result

is a masterpiece to the memories of Rowlandson and Coombe; the fires

of their early inspirations were rekindled from their decline; and

the _Dance of Death_ has always impressed us as the last flicker of

expiring genius; a fitting memorial of the vast and almost forgotten

faculties of the projectors.

A fuller account of this impressive and truly remarkable work, will

be found under the year 1810, where we have endeavoured to do justice

to the exceptional qualities of a performance which, in our modest

conviction, surpasses any previous treatment of the same subject.

In 1816 Rowlandson commenced a series of charming little pictures

designed in outline, avowedly intended as an assistance to

landscape-artists in the direction of suggesting, and supplying

animated groups of figures, suitable for introduction into drawings.

The etchings were executed with exceptional neatness, ease, and spirit,

and the entire collection is highly interesting; it appeared under

the title of _The World in Miniature, figure subjects for Landscapes,

Groups, and Views_, and was published by Mr. Ackermann at 'The

Repository.' A series of a similar description was commenced under the

same designation by Rowlandson in 1821, and finished by W. H. Pyne in

1826; the set was somewhat diffusive, if it extended to 637 parts, as

we are told.

Our artist's illustrations to the _Beauties of Tom Brown_ belong to

1809.

Rowlandson also contributed a frontispiece to another of Tegg's

publications in 1816, _The Relics of a Saint, by Ferdinand Farquhar_.

[Illustration]

Rowlandson found a congenial exercise for his skill, taste, and

mirth-imparting qualities in the illustration of Oliver Goldsmith's

_Vicar of Wakefield_, in 1817, when the famous tale re-appeared,

embellished with twenty-four designs by the artist. Mr. Ackermann

was induced to republish this delightful story as a vehicle for the

display of the delicate humoristic, and more refined qualifications

of the caricaturist (who, by the way, had almost ceased to deserve

this epithet). Nothing could be more artless than the pathos of this

fiction, its simple humour is ever fresh, and Rowlandson has executed

his portion of the undertaking in a congenial spirit, indeed the happy

impulses of the author seem spontaneously embodied in the picturesque

designs.

The success of the _Dance of Death_ was so considerable that the

publisher endeavoured to share its popularity with a successor. The

two volumes constituting the first work were, however, executed in a

superior manner; and more pains were taken to bring the plates to the

utmost perfection, as reproductions of the original drawings, than was

the case with later publications. _The Dance of Life_, illustrated

with twenty-eight coloured engravings by Thomas Rowlandson, published

by R. Ackermann, royal octavo, appeared in 1817, and although fairly

executed, neither the conceptions of Rowlandson, nor the verses of

Coombe, rose above the commonplace; it is evident that the sentiment

which had inspired their gifted faculties in the former subject found

no revival in the present volume, which is somewhat disappointing after

the talent which is manifested in its predecessor.

A pendant to the _Military Adventures of Johnny Newcome_ was issued in

1818 as _The Adventures of Johnny Newcome in the Navy_, a poem in four

cantos, with sixteen plates by Rowlandson from the author's designs,

by Alfred Burton, published by Simpkin and Marshall, Stationers'

Hall Court, Ludgate Hill. More attention was paid to the artistic

preparation of the succeeding portion of _The Second Tour of Doctor

Syntax in Search of Consolation_, with twenty-four illustrations by

Thomas Rowlandson, royal octavo, which Mr. Ackermann introduced to the

public in a collected form as the companion to the popular first volume

in 1820.

Rowlandson also furnished illustrations to certain pamphlets or

chapbooks in 1819; we may particularise one under the title of _Who

killed Cock Robin?_--a tract on the Manchester Massacre, published by

John Cahnac. We have also to notice his contribution to a chapbook

which appeared the same year, as, _Female Intrepidity, or the Heroic

Maiden_.

The same year appeared _Rowlandson's Characteristic Sketches of the

Lower Orders; intended as a Companion to the New Picture of London_

containing fifty-four coloured plates, printed by S. Leigh, 18 Strand,

1820.

[Illustration]

Another contribution, _A Tour in the South of France_, drawn from

the excellent serial publication, 'Ackermann's Repository of Arts,

Literature, Fashion, and Manufactures,' originally supplied to its

pages in instalments between the years 1817 and 1820, was republished

in a completed form in 1821, with additional attractions, in the way of

fresh embellishments, by the unflagging hand of our artist, under the

title of _A Journal of Sentimental Travels in the Southern Provinces of

France_, illustrated with eighteen coloured engravings from designs by

Thomas Rowlandson, royal octavo, published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

A French version of 'Doctor Syntax's Tour in Search of the

Picturesque,' _Le Don Quichotte Romantique, ou Voyage du Docteur

Syntaxe à la Recherche du Pittoresque et du Romantique_, also appeared

in Paris this year, with twenty-eight illustrations, drawn on stone,

after the original designs of Rowlandson, by Malapeau, lithographed by

G. Engelmann.

The final complement of 'The Tours,' prepared under the same auspices

as the earlier peregrinations, reached completion as an additional

volume in 1822, and the monthly instalments were then reissued in a

collected form to join the two predecessors as _The Third Tour of

Doctor Syntax in Search of a Wife_, with twenty-five illustrations by

Thomas Rowlandson, royal octavo, published by R. Ackermann.

A further instance of the universal popularity enjoyed by _The First

Tour of Doctor Syntax in Search of the Picturesque_ was afforded,

in 1822, by the appearance of an edition translated into German and

freely adapted as _Die Reise des Doktor Syntax um das Malerische au

Frusuchen_ with Rowlandson's famous illustrations imitated on stone and

lithographed by F. E. Rademacher, Berlin.

The interest which it was found, on experience, still surrounded

the grotesque prototype _Dr. Syntax_, induced the energetic

projectors--publisher, artist, and author--under their old,

well-defined relations, to venture on a farther extension of the

familiar framework, and a fresh volume, which had, like the preceding

publications, found its way to the public in monthly instalments, was

inaugurated in 1822 under the description of _The History of Johnny

Quæ Genus: The Little Foundling of the late Doctor Syntax--a poem by

the author of The Three Tours_ (William Coombe)--embellished with

twenty-four coloured engravings by Thomas Rowlandson.

[Illustration]

The same year our artist issued another distinct volume of landscape

subjects of his execution under the title of _Rowlandson's Sketches

from Nature_; a collection of seventeen plates, drawn and etched by the

artist and aquatinted by Stradler. _Crimes of the Clergy_, an octavo

volume, with two plates by our artist, also appeared in 1822.

As a further proof that the numerous editions in royal octavo of the

illustrious schoolmaster's wanderings were insufficient to satisfy the

requirements of his patrons, Mr. Ackermann offered the public a fresh

copy, in three volumes 16mo. of _The Three Tours of Dr. Syntax, Pocket

Edition_, with all Rowlandson's plates, executed on a smaller scale to

suit the convenience of enthusiasts, who might require to carry the

volumes about with them ready for immediate reference, or for perusal

on their travels and at odd moments, if such an opportunity should be

in request.

In 1825 Charles Molloy Westmacott, an intimate friend of the

caricaturist, in whose company we learn he visited Paris, thought

proper to edit a publication under his pseudonym of 'Bernard

Blackmantle,' a collection of whimsical extracts from the press,

which had appeared in print in the previous season. The description

of his production is as follows: _The Spirit of the Public Journals

for the year 1824, with Explanatory Notes_. Illustrations on wood

by T. Rowlandson, R. and G. Cruikshank, Lane, and Findlay. London;

published by Sherwood, Jones, and Co., Paternoster Row, 1825. Our

artist contributed eleven highly humorous cuts to this publication, his

drawings being engraved on wood--a novel process as far as the designs

usually supplied by Rowlandson are concerned.

A notable plate was furnished by the caricaturist in 1825 to _The

English Spy_, a work also produced under the auspices of 'Bernard

Blackmantle,' after the description of the better-known _Life in

London_. The major part of the plates are due to the hand of Robert

Cruikshank. Rowlandson's name is given on the title-page as having

contributed a portion of the illustrations on wood, but the only

example of his skill we have been able to identify is an adaptation of

his drawing (now the property of Mr. Capron), _The Life School at the

Royal Academy_, which he originally presented to his old friend John

Thomas Smith, of the British Museum. Plate 32.--_R. A--ys of Genius

Reflecting on the True Line of Beauty at the Life Academy, Somerset

House_, by Thomas Rowlandson; and this illustration is undeniably the

most interesting to be found in the entire contents of the two octavo

volumes of which Mr. Westmacott's _English Spy_ is composed; further

particulars of this subject are given under the year 1825.

[Illustration]

After the caricaturist's death in 1827 the admirable publications,

of which his coloured plates formed the principal attractions, were

discontinued; the taste of the public had changed. Wood blocks and

steel plates came into fashion. Cheap annuals illustrated with

woodcuts came into favour for a season, until the appearance of the

more elaborately prepared 'Gift Books,' with fine steel engravings,

'Keepsakes,' 'Gems,' &c., subsequently took their place. The folios of

Mr. Ackermann were still sufficiently rich in studies by Rowlandson to

furnish the framework for a fresh publication. A choice was made from

the large collection of original drawings, published and unpublished,

which still remained, after the artist's decease, in the possession of

the indefatigable proprietor of the 'Repository'; and these sketches,

which of necessity, for the most part, are assignable to Rowlandson's

declining period, when his drawings became looser in execution and

less picturesque in point of subject, were selected as the materials

for a new venture, with a departure from the old popular style of

reproduction in facsimile of the artist's pictures coloured by hand.

The subjects culled from Mr. Ackermann's portfolios were redrawn

on a reduced scale, either as a whole, or striking portions of

caricatures, and prominent figures or groups were adapted, transferred

to wood-blocks, and put into the hands of an engraver. In cutting

the designs a considerable amount of the original spirit, with the

individuality of execution peculiar to the master, have unfortunately

been sacrificed; the engravings are heavy and poor; however, they offer

a rough idea of the nature of the studies which happened to remain

in the hands of the publisher, and some interest attaches to this

circumstance, as the major part of these designs have never been issued

on copper.

Mr. W. H. Harrison was engaged to write up to the pictorial sketches,

and he has constructed various small fictions founded on the

suggestions offered by the engravings; but the entire work is somewhat

clumsy in contrivance, both as respects the illustrations and the

literary setting intended to assist their interest in the eyes of the

public; the editor's inventions are neither original nor brilliant.

The title of the annual produced on this compound principle was _The

Humourist, a Companion for the Christmas Fireside, embellished with

fifty engravings, exclusive of numerous vignettes after designs by the

late Thomas Rowlandson_: published by R. Ackermann, 96 Strand, and

sold by R. Ackermann, junior, 191 Regent Street, 1831. _The Humourist_

contained sixty-seven illustrations in all; the titles of these, and a

brief description of the various subjects, will be found at the close

of the present volume, under the year 1831.

* * * * *

Although Rowlandson was so well known as an artist, no fitting

memorials of his career are extant; and while, as we have related, the

task of discovering a collection of works by the artist, worthy of

illustrating his exceptional abilities, is surrounded by unforeseen

difficulties, the operation of culling personal traits, or records

of the life and adventures of the caricaturist, demands even greater

extensions of patience. Nothing short of sincere appreciation for the

vast talents of the man, and of a lasting conviction of the original

qualities of his works, could have encouraged the writer to prolong his

researches, the chances in this case of alighting on any discoveries of

note being so problematical.

The person of Rowlandson was familiarly recognised amongst his

contemporaries from his youth, when he was first admitted as a

student at the schools of the Royal Academy (about 1770), through his

diversified fortunes, till his death, which occurred on April 22, 1827.

His figure, we learn, was large, well set-up, muscular, and above the

average height--in fact, his person was a noticeable one; his features

were regular and defined, his eye remarkably full and fearless, his

glance being described as penetrating, and suggestive of command;

his mouth and chin expressed firmness and resolution; the general

impression conveyed to a stranger by his countenance, which was

undeniably fine and striking in its characteristics, was that of the

inflexibility of the owner.

[Illustration: SMITHFIELD SHARPERS; OR THE COUNTRYMAN DEFRAUDED.

Old Trusty, with his Town-made Friends,

To gentle sleep himself commends,

With Tray upon his knees;

Whilst Tom, his son, all eager, gaping,

Expects each moment he'll be scraping

The treasure up he sees.

Meanwhile the Harpy Tribe are plotting,

By forcing liquor, winking, nodding,

To cheat the youth unlearn'd;

Who, to his cost, will quickly find

Nor watch, nor money, left behind,

And Friends to Sharpers turn'd.]

Two or three portraits of the caricaturist are traceable, besides

numerous burlesque transfers of his own effigy to his imaginary

personages. In common with Cruikshank, Thackeray, and many other

humorists of the brush and etching-needle, he was prone to introduce

the presentment of his own lineaments in whimsical juxtapositions. The

most generally recognised likeness, from which a separate plate has

been published by Mr. Parker, occurs in a clever eccentric drawing,

exhibited by the artist at the Royal Academy Exhibition in 1787, under

the title of _Countrymen and Sharpers_ (No. 555).

This subject was subsequently engraved by J. K. Sherwin, whose portrait

also figures therein, in the person of the pigeon, while Rowlandson

has chosen to represent himself as the leading sharper, he who, with

blustering front, is fleecing the simple youth at cards, in defiance

of his well-accepted reputation for rigid integrity; for although the

gaming table long held the caricaturist an enslaved votary, ready to

make the most reckless sacrifices to tempt the fickle favours of the

gambler's fortune, it is recorded by those of his acquaintances who

have mentioned this disastrous failing (which by the way he shared

with all the wealthy, distinguished, and witty celebrities of his

day), and deplored the havoc it made with his means, and professional

pursuits, that his sense of honour was ever of the keenest, his word

was always regarded as sufficient security, and he possessed a delicacy

of feeling, and a sense of independence, which would not allow him to

remain under a debt or an obligation.

At the time Rowlandson sent his drawing of _Countrymen and Sharpers_[7]

for exhibition, he was 31 years of age, and according to the portrait,

looks manhood personified, with a fine comely figure, and a face that

imprints itself on the recollection, his hair in a profusion of wavy

tresses, worn long, and 'clubbed' as was the fashion of the period. His

bold and piercing eyes set under massive and somewhat prominent brows.

The next attributed portrait belongs to 1799, when Rowlandson was 43

years of age. In the design, _An Artist travelling in Wales_, the

result of a journey he made with his friend, the convivial Henry

Wigstead, he has represented himself, with a due allowance for

burlesque, looking older than his years; the long hair is still there,

but its curls are thinned, time and a struggle with seasons less rosy

than his youth of many fortunes, are telling on the outward man, but

the brows, eyes, mouth and chin have diminished nothing of their

resolute characteristics--indeed, they are more marked--and the strong

nervous figure is beginning to look gaunt.

_The Chamber of Genius_ appeared in 1812 with the appropriate

quotation:--

Want is the scorn of every wealthy fool;

And genius in rags is turned to ridicule.--Juv. _Sat._

The head of the caricaturist is strongly defined on the shoulders of

the gifted occupant of a garret, and the likeness is just what might

be supposed from the countenance, as given in 1787, viewed through the

intervening quarter of a century of struggles, and disenchantments,

when cares of the hour, and incidental anxieties, touching provision

for the future, had commenced to take the place of the artist's

original careless hardihood.

The last portrait to which we shall at present refer is by another

hand; and was sketched when the health of the caricaturist was a grave

source of apprehension, since we learn that during the last two years

of his life he was a severe sufferer. It represents the figure of a

large and powerful-looking old gentleman, of impressive presence; the

main characteristics, and the marked profile have gathered force with

increasing years, the brows are even firmer, and the features more

defined; this _croquis_ of the veteran was drawn by his old friend,

and erst fellow-pupil, John Thomas Smith, the keeper of the drawings

and prints in the British Museum, and the study was taken while the

caricaturist was looking over some prints, on one of his visits to the

treasures in his friend's department. The sketcher, who has written the

circumstances under which it was taken, below the portrait, has given

Rowlandson's age at seventy,--within a year, in fact, of his death.

The caricaturist's flowing locks are considerably shorn by the hand

of the inevitable mower, and his penetrating eyes do not disdain the

assistance afforded by a pair of huge tortoiseshell-rimmed spectacles,

in which they are framed; but as far as the visible flight of time

goes, regarding the outward man, he might be assumed to possess powers

of vitality sufficient to carry him over another score years.

If our memory does not deceive us, a sketch of the caricaturist's

figure, from the life, and drawn in chalks, was exhibited some time ago

at Bethnal Green, in the Loan Collection, formed under the auspices of

the Science and Art Department.

* * * * *

We learn that our artist, who is perhaps the most popularly recognised

practitioner of the caricature branch, was born in the Old Jewry, in

July 1756, that is to say, just a year before his remarkable compeer

James Gillray. The members of the Rowlandson family, according to

the little we can trace of their personal history, seem to have been

highly respectable people of the middle class in life. The name is not

of common occurrence. There is a tract relating certain misfortunes

which attended two bearers of this cognomen; a pious and worthy couple

who in the seventeenth century went evangelising to New England,

where they suffered incredible persecutions, and escaped all sorts

of dismal tortures amongst the aboriginal Indians, in whose hands

they had the mischance to fall; the succession of hardships which

they encountered, and their final miraculous deliverance, are duly

recorded for the encouragement of the faithful. The narrative, which

is simple and circumstantial, forms an item of 'improving reading'

not without its interest in the present age. There is nothing to

prove the relationship of this faithful and much-enduring pair to

our caricaturist, beyond the circumstance of the similarity of name.

Rowlandson the elder was assuredly at one time a man of fair substance,

as we are informed--'some say a city merchant,' but his disposition,

like that of his son, seems to have been tinctured with recklessness.

Mention is made of an uncle Thomas Rowlandson, who was godfather

to the subject of our notice; also, as far as we can discover,

connected with mercantile pursuits. This relationship was destined to

serve the caricaturist in good stead, if he had only exercised the

commonest prudence in husbanding the resources which he derived from

this connection. We discover that, before Rowlandson had arrived at

man's estate, his chances of inheriting a provision to help him on

his way, together with the prospect of any future support, so far as

the paternal resources were concerned, had melted away; the elder

Rowlandson's 'speculative turn' had taken a sinister bent, considerable

sums had been sunk, and still more portentous liabilities had been

incurred, 'by experimenting on various branches of manufacture,' which

were attempted on too extensive a scale for the means at his command;

and, his resources becoming exhausted, before the fruition of his

schemes, pecuniary embarrassments involved his career, and he failed

to realise the considerable fortune which his sanguine temperament

had anticipated. The natural talents of the son, and the professional

training which had cultivated his gifts, were the only contributions

he received, on attaining manhood, towards his future maintenance, as

far as the help he could derive from his father was concerned. Other

adventitious aids came to the artist's assistance, indeed, in spite of

the untoward direction which the previous prosperity of the elder had

taken, Rowlandson was to a large degree the spoiled child of fortune

throughout his early career.

[Illustration: HOW TO TREAT A REFRACTORY MEMBER.]

We are not informed whether the paternal estate was restored to

solvency. Among the various 'valuable legacies' which, it is related,

fell to the caricaturist's share (only to be scattered broadcast), it

is very possible that, in some sort, an inheritance from his father

formed part of these unexpected 'good gifts.' It seems, although we

have no direct records of the remaining relatives, that Rowlandson had

a sister, since we learn that his brother-in-law was Howitt, famous

as an artist for his delineation of animals, for his spirited hunting

subjects, being eminent as a sportsman, rider, and angler; and, like

the caricaturist, somewhat of a spoiled child--a wayward genius--of a

congenial soul, and vivacious impulses, a trifle too given to yield to

careless convivial company, or the allurements which the hour might

hold forth, oblivious of sober consequences to follow.

Thomas Rowlandson, the uncle, had married a certain Mademoiselle

Chattelier, who was, it is evident, a lady with some command of wealth;

and from the partiality and indulgence of this aunt, our artist, we are

told, 'derived that assistance which his father's reverse of fortune

had withheld.'

Another reference to the family name further occurs amongst the

announcements of marriages for September 1800 (_Gentleman's Magazine_,

vol. 70, p. 898), where we find that Thomas Rowlandson, Esq., of

Watling Street, espoused Miss Stuart, daughter of George Stuart, Esq.,

of the Grove, Camberwell, Surrey. It is obvious that Rowlandson senior

intended to give his son a sound training. As a school-boy, the future

celebrity wandered into the precincts of that Soho district to which he

afterwards clung in his varying fortunes with the persistence developed

by habit.

[Illustration]

The caricaturist began to draw his first instalments from the fount of

knowledge at the scholastic symposium of Doctor Barvis in Soho Square,

'at that time, and subsequently, an academy of some celebrity.' We are

told this establishment was kept by Doctor Barrow when young Rowlandson

was pursuing his studies. The respectability of the school, and its

soundness as an educational institution, is satisfactorily demonstrated

to our mind from the circumstance that the great Edmund Burke had

elected to confide his beloved son, with whose training, it is well

known, the philosopher took especial pains, to the charge of Doctor

Barrow; and Richard Burke, the gentle gifted youth whose untimely death

hastened the decease of his patriotic father, was a school-fellow

of our artist. J. G. Holman, who was destined to acquire reputation

as a dramatic writer and performer, was another school-fellow. It

appears that, within the walls of this academy, Rowlandson made

the acquaintance of John Bannister, whose inimitable talents were

afterwards to delight the town, and whose name is a lasting ornament to

the histrionic profession; it was, further, in Soho Square that young

Rowlandson and young Angelo, the son of the well-known Henry Angelo

(one of the best recognised and most respected foreigners domiciled in

London of his day), fencing-master to the Royal Family, became fast and

firm friends. The intimacy existing between this worthy trio, dating

from these early days, continued steadfastly through life. All these

lads were, in different degrees, enthusiasts of the graphic art; Angelo

and Bannister had strong predilections for the arts, and both drew as

amateurs in their subsequent careers, although, with Rowlandson, they

originally meditated following up the artist's profession seriously.

As to our friend Rolley, like all beginners gifted with the pictorial

vein, he could make sketches intuitively before he had learnt to

do anything else, as seems the rule with youths who possess the

artistic faculty and an imaginative temperament; his powers of fancy

directed his hand at a precociously juvenile age to the practice of

exercising his abilities with pencil and pen. 'From the early period

of his childhood,' it is recorded, 'Rowlandson gave presage of his

future talent;' he could make sketches before he learned to write,

and, according to the usual course, 'he drew humorous characters of

his master and many of his scholars, before he was ten years old. The

margins of his school-books were covered with these his handiworks.'

Rowlandson's genius was of the rapid order, his powers were matured

before the average of students have sounded the direction of their

inclinations. Young Henry Angelo left Doctor Barrow's and Soho Square,

for Eton, while Bannister and Rowlandson quitted the seminary of polite

learning to follow the arts at the Schools of the Royal Academy; here

our artist made rapid strides, and gave convincing proofs of his

ability, dexterity, and quickness of parts, during the short interval

his name was entered as a probationer.

[Illustration]

In his sixteenth year, somewhere about 1771, Rowlandson had the

advantage of being sent to Paris to continue his education; we

learn that he 'spoke French like a native.' It was his aunt, _née_

Mademoiselle Chattelier, residing in the French metropolis, a widow

with what would have then been considered, in that capital, a handsome

fortune, who invited her hopeful nephew over to the very centre of

gaiety, dissipation, and luxurious refinement--Paris in the latter

days of Louis the Fifteenth's reign being a very Capua for a youth of

light and picturesque disposition such as our artist possessed. The

impulse for purposeless frivolities, so deleteriously nourished amidst

the gaieties of Parisian life, seems to have been kept in tolerable

subjection by his earnest intentions to work hard at his adopted

profession, which certainly must have sustained Master Rolley during

his earlier residence on the Continent, until the cup of pleasure was

raised to his lips by an unexpected accession of means. The student

did a wonderful deal of real solid work and thoroughly steadfast

application, before, like Moreland, he allowed himself to be whirled

into the eddy of fashionable distractions; in Paris he was inscribed

as a student in one of the drawing-academies there, and his natural

abilities, aided by the excellence of the methods practised around

him, to which his gifts moulded themselves quite naturally, enabled the

probationer to make rapid advances in the study of the human figure,

and laid the foundation for his future excellences. During his first

sojourn, which lasted for nearly two years, Rowlandson became a perfect

French buck, with a decided leaning, however, towards the fine-art

section of the condition, and a pride in his professional calling; he

learned to draw with fidelity to nature, with the graceful ease, and

_abandon_, and the sparkle of style which marks French pictorial art of

the period immediately antecedent to the reign of Louis the Sixteenth,

the very ideal of luxury and refinement. It is related that, during

his abode in Paris, 'he occasionally permitted his satiric talents the

indulgence of portraying the characteristics of that fantastic people,

whose _outré_ habits perhaps scarcely demanded the exaggerations of

caricature.'

[Illustration]

Rowlandson returned to London for a season; and, while still a youth in

years, his studies at the Academy were resumed; his progress was now

so marked that he was set up as a friendly rival to Mortimer, another

talented student, who had won the admiration of professors and pupils

alike, by his skilful drawings after the nude figure. Our artist seems

to have been highly popular with the two sections of academicians

and students; the former appreciated his masterly endowments, the

latter were won by his whimsicalities, his spirit of mischief, and the

marvellous gift he possessed of turning every situation to comical

account in the production of exhaustless graphic satires, which seemed

to flow from his pen of their own sweet wilfulness.

John Bannister, who, as we have seen, had evinced an equal predilection

for the graphic art, with powers, however, of lesser brilliancy, was

then studying in the antique school, their old friendship was renewed,

and a fresh alliance for fun and frolic was straightway entered into.

These hopeful aspirants were a great acquisition to the mirth of the

schools, but both these eccentric geniuses must have sorely tried the

patience of their venerated pastors and masters. The nature of their

drolleries, which were incessant, is exposed in an extract from the

_Reminiscences_ of Henry Angelo, who formed the third person of this

waggish trio.

'At the period when Wilson held the appointment of Librarian to the

Royal Academy, the students were accustomed to assemble in the library;

Bannister and Rowlandson were students, and both being sprightly

wights, Wilson kept a watchful eye upon their pranks. The one was apt

to engage the attention of his fellow-disciples by caricaturing the

surly librarian, never forgetting to exaggerate his mulberry nose;

whilst the other, born to figure in the histrionic art, a mimic by

nature, used to divert them, in his turn, by playing off the irritable

'Old Dick.' Michael Moser was keeper at Somerset House while Bannister

and Rowlandson were students of the Royal Academy, at which period

the drawing-school was held in a part of the old palace, Somerset

House, just behind the site of the present institution. Moser, in

virtue of his office as keeper, had apartments there, which included

accommodations for a housekeeper, and other female domestics.

'Bannister and Rowlandson, as before observed, were prankish youths.

The latter once gave great offence by carrying a pea-shooter into the

life academy, and, whilst old Moser was adjusting the female model, and

had just directed her contour, Rowlandson let fly a pea, which, making

her start, she threw herself entirely out of position, and interrupted

the gravity of the study for the whole evening. For this offence,

Master Rowlandson went near getting himself expelled.

'Bannister, who at this time drew in the plaster academy, not having

gained the step that admitted to the drawing from the life, used to

amuse Moser with his mimicry, and he was, indeed, a pet of the worthy

keeper.

[Illustration]

'One evening, observing that the student had vacated his seat at his

desk, the keeper went to seek him, and, hearing an unusual giggling and

confusion in the basement storey he descended to learn the cause; when

he discovered the young artist romping with the servant-maids.

'What are you doing, sir, hey?' inquired the keeper, taking him gently

by the ear; 'why are you not at the _cast_? You are an idler, sir.'

Bannister met his reproof with an arch smile, and whispered, 'No, kind

sir, I only came down to study from the _life_!'

In dealing with this part of the subject, every scrap of information

has its interest, the resources in this direction being unfortunately

most restricted. The task of writing on Gillray, and that within

the lifetime of the subject, was likened to the toil 'of bondsmen

commanded to make bricks without straw,' a comparison with which we

have a lively sympathy, as we have realised to the fullest extent

the difficulties which surrounded that undertaking. The obstacles to

be surmounted in the instance of the first caricaturist are found to

be rather more vexatious in the case of the companion volume, taken

up under similar auspices, to elucidate the works of Rowlandson,

and to trace the artist's career as far as lies within the writer's

capabilities. Sixty years ago it was declared while treating of the

first-named genius, in reference to contemporaneous indifference: 'It

is a scandal upon all the cold-hearted scribblers in the land to allow

such a genius as Gillray to go to the grave unnoticed; and a burning

shame that so many of his works should have become ambiguous for want

of a commentator. The political squibs have lost half of their point

for want of a glossary, and many of the humorous traits of private

life, so characteristic of men and manners, are becoming oblivious to

ninety-nine hundredths of those who perambulate the streets of this

mighty town.' This remark, so appropriately applied to Gillray (before

Thomas Wright, and successive elucidators, had contributed to render

the reading of these pictorial fables fairly clear, and the solutions

easy of access), is equally striking as respects its undoubted truth in

its application to Rowlandson--in his instance the pioneering remained

to be accomplished--although his works are less complex in themselves,

a description of them has hitherto proved too perplexing an attempt,

since, how were the subjects to be collected?

We feel a glow of gratitude to that worthiest old authority, _The

Gentleman's Magazine_, which contained a capital obituary notice on the

caricaturist's decease, April 22, 1827, written by 'one who had known

him for more than forty years;' this article has been copied literally

in all subsequent notices of Rowlandson.

[Illustration]

W. H. Pyne, the artist, who, under a pseudonym as _Ephraim Hardcastle_,

conducted the earliest of English fine-art reviews, _The Somerset House

Gazette_, 1824, was one of the intimates of the caricaturist, and he

has left slight allusions to Rowlandson, both in his _Gazette_ and in

another publication of his enterprising, _Wine and Walnuts, or After

Dinner Chat_, by Ephraim Hardcastle, 1823.

John Thomas Smith, as we have shown elsewhere, was on terms of personal

friendship with Rowlandson throughout his life; but strangely enough,

in his Nollekens and his Times, and his second volume, _Memoirs of

several Contemporary Artists from the time of Roubiliac, Hogarth and

Reynolds, to that of Fuseli, Flaxman, and Blake_, no mention is made

of his much-esteemed associate. A passing allusion to his 'friend and

fellow-pupil' Rowlandson, occurs in 'Antiquity' Smith's _Book for a

Rainy Day_.

Henry Angelo, the early schoolfellow and constant comrade of our

artist, a gentleman of varied accomplishments, obliged the reading

public with his _Reminiscences_ in 1830, a chatty, interesting, and in

some respects highly valuable book, of which we wish there were more,

since the two volumes are, as described by the title, filled with

_memoirs of his friends, including numerous original anecdotes and

curious traits of the most celebrated characters that have flourished

during the last eighty years_. Unlike the author of _Nollekens and

his Times_, Angelo has given due prominence to his recollections

of the caricaturist's works and career, and his terms of familiar

intimacy have supplied him with many entertaining details, trivial or

unimportant in themselves perhaps, but very much to the purpose from a

biographical point of view, as aids to the effort of reproducing the

subject in his wonted aspect, as he struck the men amongst whom he

passed his life. The spirit of Angelo's _Reminiscences_ will not bear

dilution, and so we think it better to offer his memoirs of the artist

as they were published.

'Thomas Rowlandson, John Bannister, and myself, having early in life

evinced a predilection for the study of drawing, we became acquainted

whilst boys, and were inseparable companions.

[Illustration]

'Everyone at all acquainted with the arts must well know the caricature

works of that very eccentric genius, Rowlandson; the extent of his

talent, however, as a draughtsman is not so generally known. His

studies from the human figure at the Royal Academy were made in so

masterly a style that he was set up as a rival to Mortimer, whom he

certainly would have excelled, had his subsequent study kept pace with

the fecundity of his invention. His powers, indeed, were so versatile,

and his fancy so rich, that every species of composition flowed from

his pen with equal facility. His misfortune, indeed, was, as I have

been assured by capable authorities who noticed his juvenile progress,

that of possessing too ready an invention; this rare faculty, strange

as it may seem, however desirable to the poet, often proves the bane

of the painter. "The poet," as Milton says, "can build the lofty

rhyme," even with a dash of his pen. The painter, however easily he may

conceive the structure of a mighty building--be it a temple, or be it a

ship--must describe the subject perfectly with all its parts; he must

set to work _doggedly_, as the great lexicographer, Johnson, said, and

labour at the thing with the patience of the philosopher. Rowlandson

was no philosopher, and so his uncontrollable spirit, sweeping over the

prescribed pale, took its excursive flights and caught its thema on

the wing. Hence I think it may safely be averred that he has sketched

or executed more subjects of real scenes in his original rapid manner,

than any ten artists his contemporaries, and etched more plates than

any artist, ancient or modern.

'Few persons--judging from the careless style of drawing and etching

which he so fatally indulged in, too soon, after acquiring the first

rudiments of his art--would believe the possibility of his being the

author of some of his earlier designs; for although all are too slight,

yet there are certain subjects of his composition carried through

with a compatibility of style so truly original, and so replete with

painter-like feeling, that Sir Joshua Reynolds and Sir Benjamin West

pronounced them wonders of art.'

On this same head we have the testimony of Ephraim Hardcastle in the

_Somerset House Gazette_. A certain weight, beyond the mere evidence

of partiality, is due to the opinions of such authorities as Henry

Angelo and W. H. Pyne, who at least deserve the credit of understanding

the subject; both were familiar with the best works of their day, and

in the case of the latter we respect the opinion of an artist of wide

experience and well-known repute.

'Thomas Rowlandson, the merry wag, he who has covered with his

never-flagging pencil enough of _charta pura_ to placard the whole

walls of China, and etched as much copper as would sheathe the British

navy. Of his graphic fun and frolic we have seen, Heaven knows, full

many a ponderous folio.

[Illustration]

'Master Roley, so friendly dubbed by many an old _convive_, would

have taken higher flights of art had he so willed, for he could draw

with elegance and grace; for the design, no mind was ever better

stored with thought--no genius more prolific. Nothing, even allowing

for caricature, could exceed in spirit and intelligence some of the

off-hand compositions of this worthy.

'Predilections for outline and the pen have ruined many a genius who

would have done honour to the arts. Mortimer, Porter, and many other

artists have sacrificed their talents and their fame to the indulgence

of doing that with the pen (confound both goose-quill, crow-quill, and

the reed!) that should have occupied that fitter instrument the pencil,

aforetime called the painting-brush.'

Angelo affords us occasional glimpses of Rowlandson in Paris, and

frequently alludes to the artist's travels on the Continent. It seems,

at various stages of his career, he roved about sometimes in search of

subjects, at others, on parties of pleasure. We have seen the young

student sent to Paris to pursue art; later on Angelo finds him there,

at nineteen, still earnest and hard-working.

'The subjects of his humorous designs were not sought in England alone.

He travelled early in life to France, Flanders, and Holland; and stored

his portfolios with sketches highly characteristic of the habits and

manners of the people, at every town through which he passed. Paris,

as viewed under the old _régime_, opened a prolific source for his

imitative powers. Nothing can exceed the fun and frolic which his

subjects display, picked up among every class, from the court down to

the _cabaret_. He mixed in all societies, and speaking French fluently,

made himself acquainted with the habits of thinking, as well as those

of acting, in that city, where everything to an English eye bore the

appearance of burlesque.

'Hogarth had already pronounced Paris "all begilt and befouled."

Rowlandson found it so; and taking that as a sort of maxim which

governed all things, physical as well as moral, in the polite city, he

burlesqued even the burlesque.

'His drawings of _The Italian_ and _The French Family_, from which

John Raffael Smith made engravings, had great merit. My friend John

Bannister had one of the originals. I remember the last time I saw

poor Edwin the comedian (I mean the elder), was on occasion of his

wishing me to procure for him these originals. He was too late in

his application, and was obliged to solace himself with the coloured

prints, which were touched upon by the hand of Rowlandson. They were

handsomely framed and hung in his dining-room on the first floor

of one of the houses on the north-east piazza, Covent Garden. They

subsequently became the property of Lord Barrymore.

'It would be difficult to enumerate the many choice subjects which he

depicted even in these first tours to the Continent. Those descriptive

of Parisian manners would now be viewed with tenfold interest, as the

general external appearance of things was infinitely more original and

amusing before the period of the commencement of the Revolution than

since. Indeed, I can speak of these changes from my own observation,

whilst two years in that city, and in the midst of its ever-varying

gaieties, more than half a century ago.[8]

'During my residence there, Rowlandson came over in company with an

Englishman of the name of Higginson, whom he got acquainted with at

Dover; a pleasant companion, but, as it fell out, one who seemed to

live on his wits.

'Their arrival in Paris was immediately after the death of Louis the

Fifteenth at the moment of the putting on public mourning (1774). Mr.

Higginson had letters of introduction (like Sylvester Daggerwood) to

several persons of distinction, and resided at an hotel adjacent to my

quarters. He sent the _valet de place_ with a civil note to request

the loan of my black suit, which he knew would fit him to a T. On the

written assurance that it would be returned in time for me to pay a

promised visit in the evening, I readily consented. Rowlandson lost

sight of him for two days and nights; on the morning of the third day

he returned, and I went, not over well pleased, to demand restitution,

when on entering his apartment, he received me with, "Ah! _mon ami_, is

it you?" seated under the frosting powder-puff of a French _friseur_,

having his hair frizzled and powdered _à la mode_, in my mourning suit.

Rowlandson sketched the group, and subjoined a motto, "Free and Easy."

I had many of the drawings made by my friend Roly at this time.'

It is most likely that our artist's first contribution to the Royal

Academy (it was the seventh exhibition) arrived from Paris; in 1775

there appeared, under the catalogue Number 253, a certain drawing

entitled _Delilah payeth Sampson a visit while in prison at Gaza_, by

Thomas Rowlandson; the exhibitor's address is given '_at_ No. 4 Church

Street, St. Ann's.'

This, no doubt, like his contributions up to 1784, was of a serious

character.[9]

From 1777 we find Rowlandson settled down to portrait-painting, his

address being given at Wardour Street; his contributions to the Academy

were as follow:--

1777. No. 302. A Drawing.

1778. " 259. Portrait of a Young Gentleman, whole length.

1779. " 275. An Officer, small, whole length.

" " 276. A Gentleman.

1780. " 373. Landscape and Figures.

1781. " 334. Portrait of a Lady in a fancy dress.

" " 339. Portrait of a Gentleman.

It is improbable, however, that the artist's disposition for change

would allow him to vegetate in one spot for any length of time, and

we are not surprised to discover that his tours to the Continent

became frequent; as far as we can judge of his extended travels, it

appears it was in 1778--while his youthful ardour was still fresh,

when his sprightly faculties had not been jaded by the allurements of

fashionable life, and his hand had not been betrayed into the careless

execution which determined some time after his decisive rejection of

serious art for the indulgence of uncompromising caricature--that he

went very earnestly to work; travelling in Flanders and through the

cities of Germany; making clever studies and finished pictures of

the incidents of his journeys; noting the travellers he encountered,

their mode of conveyance, the foreign nobility and their equipages,

the townsfolks and the country people, coaches, waggons, and, above

all, horses (which he then drew with great fidelity and spirit from

life), as far as the figure subjects which enlivened his pictures were

concerned; while his views were faithful representations of the places

he visited, worked out with the completeness of landscape art.

[Illustration]

The drawings of this period evince the excellence of his talents.

There is sufficient spice of character introduced into the groups, and

incidents which give action to his pictures, to raise his subjects

above the average treatment, but the comic element is subordinated

to the general harmony of the whole conception; and we have every

opportunity of forming our opinion, from the numerous interesting

series of studies which have come under our attention, that it was

not until about 1782 that our artist began to cut himself adrift from

the more legitimate occupation of his vast abilities in the regions

of serious art, for the allurements which the readier exercise of his

talents as a caricaturist held out for the indulgence of his eccentric

and wayward tendencies. As we have seen, his early bias was undoubtedly

towards the simply ludicrous; then intervened his academic training in

London and Paris, the maturing of his powers necessitating an immense,

and indeed almost incredible amount of sterling hard work, such as

fitted him to excel in any branch of his calling he elected to pursue;

followed by an attempt towards his establishment as a serious artist

and portrait-painter, and then a relapse in the direction of his early

impulses. This inclination was fostered by the encouragement of his

friends, and the influence of their example. His cronies were, as was

most natural, the humorous designers. There was the great and gifted

Gillray, the prince of caricaturists, whose works created an impression

on the public justified by their remarkable qualities. The friendship

of this man, whose reputation was so wide, and whose mastery of the

situation appeared extraordinary, encouraged Rowlandson to strike out a

pathway in the same direction; bringing original qualifications to bear

on this impetus, which in no degree clashed with the strongly marked

intentions of Gillray's scathing inventions. There was his constant

friend Henry Wigstead, a man of social standing, profusely liberal

in his house, a jovial companion out of doors; who, richly endowed

with the vein of humorous invention allied to powers of observation,

and a refined sense of the beautiful, as well as a ready knack of

seizing the comic features of a situation, entrusted his sketches to

Rowlandson, that they might be produced in fitting form; and to the

proper execution of these whimsicalities Rowlandson willingly lent the

full force of his own trained skill. Another amateur of distinction,

whose example and influence must have had considerable weight with our

artist, was Henry Bunbury, the caricaturist, a man of family, of means,

and, above all, of high culture. The celebrated Bunbury seemed formed

expressly to be courted by the most eminent of his contemporaries; he

had married one of the beautiful Miss Hornecks; the Duke and Duchess of

York were delighted with his company; amongst the brilliant assemblies

at Wynnstay, Bunbury's society was the most relished; Walpole, Garrick,

Reynolds, and Goldsmith were constantly laying adulation at his feet,

or exchanging gallant little pleasantries with this favoured child of

fortune; West and Reynolds were respectfully solicitous that he should

send his contributions to the Royal Academy; the writers of the day

were given to deplore that the occupations of town and country life,

the court, the hunting-field, and the ceremony of receiving company at

his country-house or paying visits to the seats of his noble friends,

sadly interfered with the exercise of his artistic abilities.

[Illustration]

The instance of Bunbury, who was Rowlandson's senior by six years,

no doubt had considerable influence upon our artist's career; the

praise and adulation lavished upon the amateur sketches of the man

of fashion, and the prophecies which writers were in the habit of

recording, that, if Bunbury had not, from his birth and station, been

indifferent to mere monetary advantages, the pursuit of his talents

must have infallibly produced him a large access of fortune (which he

did not need, by the way, since his means were ample) possibly helped

to turn Rowlandson from quietly persevering in the less congenial study

of portraiture, and induced him to show the public what could be done

in the grotesque walk. Nor must we forget Mitchell the banker, whose

friendship was always at our caricaturist's service, his travelling

companion to the Continent, where Rowlandson and his patron passed for

the veritable representatives of John Bull. There was 'the facetious

Nixon,' the pleasant and witty John, 'a choice member of the celebrated

Old British Beef-Steak Club, honorary secretary, and sometime providore

to that society of native gourmands;' further, like his friend Bunbury,

distinguished as a man of talent and taste, possessed of original

gifts in the humorous department of graphic art, he was an honorary

exhibitor at Somerset House for many years: this gentleman, who had

perfected the study of how to get the largest possible amount of

enjoyment out of existence, also came to Rowlandson to put his drawings

into acceptable shape, and to introduce his eccentric pleasantries

to the public. Nor must the well-known amateurs and choice spirits,

Woodward and Collings, be omitted from the list of those familiars

of the artist who, by precept and example, encouraged him to devote

his accomplishments to the comic branch. It is not surprising that

the tendency of this influence, allied to the strong original bias

natural to our artist, drew him farther away from the steady pursuit

of art, and plunged him into the tempting career of a caricaturist,

a pursuit which held out peculiar attractions to an artist gifted

with his whimsical inclinations. We must do Rowlandson the credit to

admit that, at the outset, he distinguished himself marvellously. His

first contributions, under his changed profession, were by no means

discreditable to his great qualifications; indeed these drawings,

from the successful impression they produced on the public, appeared

to justify the resolution the artist had taken, and to prove that he

was evidently more at home in the fanciful branch than any of his

predecessors or contemporaries. In 1784 Rowlandson contributed three

somewhat ambitious subjects to the Royal Academy Exhibition; according

to the Catalogue No. 462, _An Italian Family_; No. 503, _Vauxhall_; No.

511, _The Serpentine River_.

_Vauxhall Gardens_, which is possibly the best recognised of

Rowlandson's more aspiring compositions, was engraved by R. Pollard,

aquatinted, to resemble the drawing, by F. Jukes, and published under

the auspices of John Raphael Smith, also a convivial companion, a

leading spirit amongst the careless souls who formed Rowlandson's

social surroundings; the well-known printseller, who was 'a

jack-of-all-trades' according to his own admission, was celebrated for

his liberality to artists; he personally practised the arts both of

engraving and painting, and he excelled in executing spirited portrait

sketches, in crayons, 'miniatures in large' as they were called, of the

fashionable personages of his day.

The Study of _Vauxhall_ is replete with character; the persons of

the principal frequenters are, it is believed, portraits of numerous

celebrities of the period.

Angelo, in his _Reminiscences_, which touch upon every topic of the

time, among other interesting allusions, recounts the partiality which

he and Rowlandson entertained for the popular resort of the past, and

the attractions which, according to his admission, its diversions held

out to the pair.

'_Vauxhall._--I remember the time when Vauxhall (in 1776, the price of

admission being then only one shilling) was more like a bear garden

than a rational place of resort, and most particularly on Sunday

mornings.

'It was then crowded from four to six with gentry, demireps,

apprentices, shop-boys, &c. Crowds of citizens were to be seen trudging

home with their wives and children. Rowlandson the artist and myself

have often been there, and he has found plenty of employment for his

pencil.

'The _chef-d'oeuvre_ of his caricatures, which is still in print,

is his drawing of Vauxhall, in which he has introduced a variety of

characters known at the time, particularly that of my old schoolfellow

at Eton, Major Topham, the macaroni of the day. One curious scene he

sketched on the spot purposely for me. It was this:--A citizen and his

family are seen all seated in a box eating supper, when one of the

riffraff in the gardens throws a bottle in the middle of the table,

breaking the dishes and the glasses. The old man swearing, the wife

fainting, and the children screaming, afforded full scope for his

humorous pencil.

'Such night scenes as were then tolerated are now become obsolete.

Rings were made in every part of the gardens to decide quarrels; it

no sooner took place in one quarter, than by a contrivance of the

light-fingered gentry, another row was created in another quarter to

attract the crowd away.'

[Illustration]

Before taking leave of Rowlandson and Angelo, the most agreeable of

companions, at Vauxhall, we must add a further note of another of their

holiday jaunts, once more borrowed from the _Reminiscences_.

'Mrs. Weichsel (Mrs. Billington's mother) was the favourite singer

at Vauxhall; upon one occasion she had her benefit at the little

theatre in the Haymarket. Her daughter and son added considerably

to the entertainment that night; though the former could not have

been fourteen years old, her execution on the pianoforte surprised

everyone. The son, then a little boy, played a solo on the fiddle in

such peculiarly fine style that the audience were both astonished and

delighted. Exhibiting his early abilities standing on a stool, I was

present that night with Rowlandson the artist, who made a sketch of him

playing, which he afterwards finished for me, and which, within these

few years, was within my collection.'

We will leave Rowlandson rejoicing in the popular impression his

drawings had produced in the Exhibition of the Royal Academy for

1784, where, as his friends were inclined to prophesy, his fame and

fortune were both assured, and turn to the subject of another fortune

which seems to have come into his possession about this period. We

have said that the artist was a spoiled child of prosperity; his

contemporaries record their impression that the indulgences of his

aunt, the ex-Mademoiselle Chattelier already referred to, as the

kindly patroness of her wayward nephew's budding talents, who supplied

him incautiously with money, when he would have been better without

it, paved the foundation of those careless habits which attended his

manhood; and to her injudicious generosity his biographer affects to

trace that improvidence for which, says our authority, poor Rowlandson

was remarkable through life. After this aunt's decease, she left

him seven thousand pounds, much plate, trinkets, and other valuable

property. He then indulged his predilections for a joyous life, and

mixed himself with the gayest of the gay. Whilst at Paris, being of a

social spirit, he sought the company of dashing young men; and among

other evils, imbibed a love for play. He was known in London at many

of the fashionable gaming houses, alternately won and lost, without

emotion, till at length he was minus several thousand pounds. He thus

dissipated the amount of more than one valuable legacy. It was said

to his honour, however, that he always played with the feelings of a

gentleman, and his word passed current even when with an empty purse.

Rowlandson assured the writer of the memoir which appeared, on his

death, in the obituary of _The Gentleman's Magazine_ for June 1827,

that he had frequently played throughout a night and the next day;

and that once, such was his infatuation for the dice, he continued at

the gaming table nearly thirty-six hours, with the intervention only

of the time for refreshment, which was supplied by a cold collation,

presumably consumed on the spot and during the intervals of play.

This uncontrollable passion for gambling, strange to say, did not

pervert his principles. He was scrupulously upright in all his

pecuniary transactions, and ever avoided getting into debt. He has

been known, after having lost all he possessed, to return home to

his professional studies, sit down coolly to produce a series of new

designs, and to exclaim, with stoical philosophy, 'I have played the

fool; but,' holding up his pencils or the reed pen with which he traced

his flowing outlines, 'here is my resource.' Such was his dexterity of

hand, combined with the richest fertility of imagination, and graphic

mastery over the movements of the human figure, that in a few hours

he produced inimitable pictures, replete with his best qualities of

humour, form, and colour, with incredible rapidity; and these ingenious

productions, invented in endless variety, were at once put into

circulation, and excited the competition of collectors of drawings and

caricatures, who eagerly accumulated every sketch which his facile hand

designed, too often under the pressure of the actual necessities of the

hour, or the careless effusions of the intervals in his pleasures or

dissipations.

Rowlandson's contributions to the Academy in the succeeding years were

as follows:--

1786. No. 560. A French Family.

" " 566. Opera House Gallery.

" " 575. An English Review.

" " 583. A French Review.

" " 599. Coffee House.

1787. " 525. The Morning Dram, or Huntsman rising.

" " 529. Grog on Board a Ship.

" " 531. French Barracks.

" " 555. Countrymen and Sharpers.

It was about this time that our caricaturist met with a somewhat

disagreeable adventure, which is thus related by his friend Angelo:--

'_Rowlandson robbed._--Having walked one night with Rowlandson towards

his house, when he lived in Poland Street,[10] we parted at the corner.

It was then about twelve o'clock, and before he got to his door a man

knocked him down, and, placing his knees on his breast, rifled him

of his watch and money. The next day he proposed that we should be

accompanied by a thief-taker, to try to find him out, as he was certain

he should know him again. We first repaired to St. Giles's, Dyot

Street, and Seven Dials, but to no purpose. In one of the night-houses,

four ill-looking fellows, _des coupes-jarrets_, so attracted our

attention, that whilst we sat over our noggin of spirits, as he always

carried his sketch-book with him, he made an excellent caricature group

of them for me, introducing a prison in the background. An idea may

be formed from the caricature, of the different gradations which lead

to the gallows--petty larceny, house-breaking, foot-pad and highway

robbery; and he afterwards finished it for me in his best style,

superior to the greater part of his works; this was about 1790. The

coloured drawing once was included in my collection, in a room crowded

with various subjects, the greatest part caricatures by my old friend

Rowly--his general appellation among his friends.

[Illustration]

'Our first interview originated in Paris (about 1775); he was then

studying in the French school. Lately, having to dispose of my

collection (I may say unique), my friend Bannister purchased it of me,

and it was added to his many choice and valuable drawings of the first

masters, which were so very superior that the four thieves ought to

have esteemed it an honour to be placed in such good company.[11]

'The next night a gentleman was robbed in Soho Square in like manner.

Soon afterwards several suspicious characters were taken to an office

then in Litchfield Street, Soho, suspected of street robberies, and

Rowlandson and myself went there out of curiosity, accompanied by

many others who had been robbed. They were all placed before us, but

none were identified. Rowlandson was particularly called upon to look

around him, but to no purpose. One man in particular made himself more

conspicuous than all the others, treating his curiosity with contempt,

saying, "I defies the gemman to say as how I ever stopped him any

_vare_." "No; but you are very like the description of the ruffian,"

answered Rowlandson, "who robbed a gentleman last Wednesday night in

Soho Square." This was a thunderbolt to the man, who instantly looked

pale and trembled. The gentleman was immediately sent for, and as soon

as he entered the room, though there were several for examination, he

fixed directly on the man that had been suspected. At the sessions

following he was found guilty of robbery, and hanged. This pleased my

friend mightily; "for, though I got knocked down," said he, "and lost

my watch and money, and did not find the thief, I have been the means

of hanging _one_ man. Come, that's doing something."'

[Illustration]

We incidentally learn a few particulars of subjects which found their

way into Angelo's gallery, the collection which subsequently came into

the possession of his excellent friend Bannister.

'_Black and White._--Being fond of the arts and particularly of

caricatures, I had by me a great number of Rowlandson's, to one of

which I was puzzled to give a name. The subject was an old man, at

breakfast, seated near the fire, his gouty leg on a stool, and the

kettle boiling over; the water is falling on his leg, and he is ringing

the bell. The room door is open behind him, and a black servant is

kissing the maid, who is bringing in the toast. I requested Theodore

Hook to write a title to it, and he put, "_Chacun à son goût_."'[12]

We are further afforded an opportunity of recording Rowlandson's

enthusiasm for his profession. The details of a certain visit he

paid, with Angelo, to Portsmouth, and the unflinching nerve he

exhibited under circumstances which were calculated to distress a less

robust constitution, are thus recounted by his friend and travelling

companion:--

'The general rumour, after Lord Howe's action on June 1, 1794, was that

he would return to Portsmouth. I was anxious to see the sight, for it

was expected he would bring the French prizes with him.

'The evening after my arrival, according to promise, Rowlandson the

artist came to join me.

'The morning following we saw, on the Gosport side, the landing of the

French prisoners, numbers of different divisions filing off to the

different stations allotted them. As for the wounded, previous to their

quitting the boats, carts were placed alongside, and when filled, on

the smack of the whip, were ordered to proceed. The sudden jolting made

their groans appalling, and must have occasioned the wounds of many

to produce an immediate hemorrhage. The sight was dreadful to behold:

numbers were boys, mutilated, some not more than twelve years old, who

had lost both legs. In the evening we went to Forton Prison. Those who

were not in the last engagement were in high spirits in their shops,

selling all sorts of toys and devices, made from shin-bones, &c. In one

of the sick-wards we saw one of the prisoners, who, an officer told

us had been a tall, handsome man, previous to the battle; but, having

received a shot that had lacerated his side, a mortification had taken

place. He was then making his will; his comrades were standing by,

consoling him, some grasping his hand, shedding tears.

'This scene was too much for me, and made such an impression on my mind

that I hastened away; but I could not persuade Rowlandson to follow

me, his inclination to make a sketch of the dying moment getting the

better of his feelings. After waiting some time below for my friend,

he produced a rough sketch of what he had seen:--a ghastly figure

sitting up in bed, a priest holding a crucifix before him, with a group

standing around. The interior exhibited the contrivance of the French

to make their prison habitable. When finished, it was added to my

collection, a memento of the shocking sight I beheld at Forton Prison.

'Our curiosity not stopping here, we entered another sick-ward, but

the stench and closeness of the place, crowded as it was, prevented

our remaining there more than a very short time. The next day, having

seen quite enough, I returned to town. Rowlandson went to Southampton,

where he made a number of sketches of Lord Moira's embarkation for _La

Vendée_. I saw them afterwards, and was delighted, for it appeared he

had taken more pains than usual, and he must have portrayed them well,

from having been on the spot himself at the time. The shipping and

the various boats filled with soldiers were so accurately delineated,

that I have often since regretted that I did not at that time purchase

them. Mr. Fores of Piccadilly, who had by him many of the very finest

drawings executed by Rowlandson in his best days (for latterly they

were inferior), fortunately purchased them. He was one of his first and

best patrons; and I understand he had twenty-five folio volumes of the

most choice caricatures of the last and present centuries, which must

have been an invaluable _recueil_, showing not only what we have been,

but the age we lived in. Had Rowlandson gone with the expedition then

landing in _La Vendée_ as a draughtsman, the attack at Fort Penthièvre,

and the incident that followed, would have furnished us with many

eventful scenes of that fatal expedition.'

[Illustration]

As we have related, Rowlandson was no stranger to the Continent; in the

early part of his career he was constantly abroad. We have shown how

he studied in Paris; afterwards we find him wandering farther afield,

and taking in Germany and the Netherlands. Then we are introduced

to him as a man of fashion, bowling through the legacies which had

fallen to his lot, both in the French metropolis and in London, calmly

sitting down to gamble away his fortune by the shortest route with the

best will in the world. Anon he accompanies his friend Mitchell the

banker on a wider tour. Then we hear of his sojourning in Paris with

other congenial spirits, and making the most of the passing season

with his friends John Raphael Smith, Westmacott, and Chasemore: on all

these occasions he produced drawings innumerable; his most frequent

travelling companion seems, however, to have been his steadfast

patron the banker, and it was this liberal collector who rejoiced in

the opportunity of securing the artist's most desirable Continental

studies. Our oft-quoted authority Angelo, who, happily for those who

entertain an interest in the caricaturist, never tires of telling

little anecdotes of his chum Roley, in his own familiar manner relates

a few particulars of the figure these worthies made in the eyes of the

_Monsieurs_, amongst whom their visits were favourably received.

'Mr. Mitchell, however, possessed the best collection of Rowlandson's

French and Dutch scenes. Among those were many in his most humorous

style, particularly a _Dutch Life Academy_, which represents the

interior of a school of artists, studying from a living model, all

with their portfolios and crayons, drawing a Dutch Venus (a _vrow_) of

the make, though not of the colour, of that choice specimen of female

proportion, the _Hottentot Venus_, so celebrated as a public sight in

London, a few years since.

'This friend and patron of Rowlandson, Mr. Mitchell the quondam banker,

of the firm of Hodsol and Co., was a facetious, fat gentleman--one

of those pet children of fortune, who, wonderful as it may appear,

seem to have proceeded through all the seven ages (excepting that of

the _lean_ and slippered pantaloon), without a single visit from that

intruder upon the rest of mankind, yclept _Care_. In him centred, or

rather around him the Fates piled up, the wealth of a whole family.

He was ever the great gathering _nucleus_ to a large fortune. He was

good-humoured and enjoyed life. Many a cheerful day have I, in company

with Bannister and Rowlandson, passed at Master Mitchell's.'

Under the auspices of this great banker, Rowlandson subsequently made a

tour to France, and other parts of the Continent. 'His mighty stature

astonished the many, but none more than the innkeepers' wives, who, on

his arrival, as he travelled in style, looked at the larder, and then

again at the guest. All regarded him as that reported being, of whom

they had heard, the veritable Mister Bull. His orders for the supplies

of the table, ever his first concern, strengthened this opinion, and

his operations at his meals confirmed the fact.

'Wherever he went he made good for the house.

'On this tour, Rowlandson made many topographical drawings, in general

views of cities and towns; amongst others, the High Street at Antwerp,

and the Stadt House at Amsterdam, with crowds of figures, grouped with

great spirit, though his characters were caricatures.

'The most amusing studies, however, which filled the portfolio of his

patron were those that portrayed the habits and customs of the Dutch

and Flemish, in the interior scenes, which they witnessed in their

nocturnal rambles in the inferior streets at Antwerp and Amsterdam.

Some of these compositions, drawn from low life, were replete with

character and wit. One of the most spirited and amusing of these

represented the interior of a _Treischuit_, or public passage-boat,

which was crowded with incident and humour.'[13]

Another reminiscence of Rowlandson and Mitchell is found in the

_Somerset-house Gazette_, edited by Ephraim Hardcastle (W. H. Pyne),

an intimate associate of the caricaturist and a member of the artist's

circle of friends.

'I look back with pleasure to former days, when old Mr. Greenwood

used to hold the print auctions by candle-light, and have a perfect

recollection of his good-humour and upright dealing. I well remember,

too, a number of artists and amateurs who constantly attended his room,

to purchase etchings of the old masters for themselves and friends.

'Old Parsons, as he was called, and young Bannister, the celebrated

comedians, were both collectors and amateur artists: the latter was

considered an excellent judge of prints. Rowlandson, the humorous

draughtsman, and his friend and patron Mr. Mitchell the banker, of the

firm of Hodsols, were also frequently of this evening rendezvous of

artists, amateurs, and connoisseurs.'

John Thomas Smith, the whilom pupil of Nollekens the sculptor

(with whose life he favoured the public), and one of Mr. Reid's

predecessors as Keeper of the Print Room of the British Museum, in his

loquacious _Book for a Rainy Day_ rambles into the subject of picture

sale-rooms, and notes the eccentric characters, collectors, and their

individualities, to be met with thereat in his time. On this subject

'Antiquity Smith's' account tallies with that given by Angelo. We have

confined our extract to the paragraph which introduces the caricaturist

as a crony and erst fellow-pupil of the versatile chronicler.

'I must not omit to mention another singular but most honourable

character, of the name of Heywood, nick-named "Old Iron-wig." His dress

was precise, and manner of walking rather stiff. He was an extensive

purchaser of every kind of article in art, particularly Rowlandson's

drawings; for this purpose he employed the merry and friendly Mr.

Seguier, the picture-dealer, a school-fellow of my father's, to bid for

him.

'I shall now close this list by observing that my friend and

fellow-pupil, Rowlandson, who has frequently made drawings of Hutchins

and his print auctions, has produced a most spirited etching, in which

not only many of the above described characters are introduced, but

also most of the print-sellers of his day.'

The editor of this work has seen a drawing by Rowlandson of this very

auction, the _cognoscenti_ gathered round the long tables lighted with

flickering candles, and peering over the engravings, glasses on nose,

while the auctioneer was endeavouring to excite the interest of the

company in the prints brought to his rostrum.

Before we pass on to other contemporaries of the caricaturist, we think

it advisable to introduce the reader to the society which Rowlandson

shared round the hospitable mahogany of the banker, who, like Wigstead,

Nixon, Weltjé, and certain other generous hosts of our artist's

acquaintance, appears to have kept open house for the entertainment

of choice friends, where the enjoyments of social intercourse were

prolonged to the verge of dissipation, and the fun, which enlivened

their hours of relaxation, was frequently kept up until the next

day was well advanced; the associates being loth to interrupt the

pleasures of their sitting, protracted as their gaieties might be

considered according to the more staid usages of a better regulated

age, such as we have been taught to regard our own.

'Mr. Mitchell resided for many years in Beaufort Buildings, Strand,

and occupied the house tenanted by the father of Dr. Kitchiner, of

eccentric memory. Here, after the closing of the banking-house, he was

wont to retire, and pass a social evening, surrounded by a few chosen

associates whose amusements were congenial, and whose talent well paid

the host for his hot supper and generous wine. Often, even beyond the

protracted darkness of a winter's night, he and his _convives_ have sat

it out till dawn of day, and seen the sun, struggling through the fog,

from the back windows, shed its lurid ray on the rippling waters of the

murky Thames.

[Illustration]

'Well do I remember sitting in this comfortable apartment, listening

to the stories of my old friend Peter Pindar, whose wit seemed not to

kindle until after midnight, at the period of about his fifth or sixth

glass of brandy and water. Rowlandson, too, having nearly accomplished

his twelfth glass of punch, and replenishing his pipe with choice

_oronooko_, would chime in. The tales of these two gossips, told in

one of these nights, each delectable to hear, would make a modern

_Boccaccio_.'

Angelo, in his capital chatty _Memoirs_, relates an anecdote of one

of Wigstead's pranks played off on the satirist Peter Pindar, whose

trenchant wit spared 'nor friend nor foe;' but, in his turn, Dr.

Wolcot did not relish ridicule, especially when it happened to be

excited at his own expense. It was discovered that, eminently satirical

as was the bard with his pen, he was not emulous to shine as a wit

in colloquial intercourse with strangers, or even amongst his most

intimate associates. It was asserted, with some fidelity, that 'Dr.

Wolcot's wit seemed to lie in the bowl of a teaspoon.' 'I could not

guess the riddle,' writes the discursive and cheerful author of the

_Reminiscences_, 'until one evening, seated at Mitchell's, I observed

that each time Peter replenished his glass goblet with cognac and

water, that, in breaking the sugar, the corners of his lips were curled

into a satisfactory smile, and he began some quaint story--as if,

indeed, the new libation begot a new thought.

'Determined to prove the truth of the discovery which I fancied I had

made, one night after supper, at my own residence in Bolton Row, he

being one among a few social guests, I made my promised experiment.

One of the party, who delighted in a little practical joke, namely

Wigstead, of merry memory, being in the secret, he came provided with

some small square pieces of alabaster. Peter Pindar's glass waning

fast, Wigstead contrived to slip the fragments of spurious sweetness

into a sugar-basin provided for the purpose, when the Doctor reaching

the hot water, and pouring in the brandy, Wigstead handed him the

sugar-tongs, and then advanced the basin of alabaster. "Thank you,

boy," said Peter, putting in five or six pieces, and taking his

tea-spoon, began stirring as he commenced his story.

'Unsuspicious of the trick, he proceeded: "Well, sirs,--and so, the

old parish-priest.--What I tell you (then his spoon went to work)

happened when I was in that infernally hot place, Jamaica (then another

stir). Sir, he was the fattest man on the island (then he pressed the

alabaster); yes, damme, sir; and when the thermometer, at ninety-five,

was dissolving every other man, this old slouching, drawling, son of

the Church got fatter and fatter, until, sir--curse the sugar! some

devil-black enchanter has bewitched it. By ---- sir, this sugar is part

and parcel of that old pot-bellied parson--it will never melt;" and

he threw the contents of the tumbler under the grate. We burst into

laughter, and our joke lost us the conclusion of the story. Wigstead

skilfully slipped the mock sugar out of the way, and the Doctor, taking

another glass, never suspected the frolic.'

Let us take a further glimpse of the social meetings which Rowlandson

shared in company with Angelo, who duly set down the outlines of the

evenings' diversions in his _Memoirs_. As this anecdote introduces

a personage who figures somewhat prominently amidst the more lively

records of the period, we must be allowed to say a word or two about

the giver of the feast, where we are admitted by favour and enabled to

watch the proceedings from a distance.

Another excellent friend, occasional host, and boon companion of our

caricaturist was, as we have mentioned, Weltjé, the Prince of Wales'

cook and steward, a German of eccentric proclivities, who was pretty

universally recognised as a character in his generation. The huge

person of this worthy is frequently introduced into the social satires

of the period; the artistic and literary wags alike delighted to make

the figure of the old _bon-vivant_ conspicuous; it seems that Weltjé

was in no wise offended at this popularity, however unflattering might

be the intentions of the wicked wights; he was a calm humoristic

philosopher, whose composure was not easily deranged, and in return for

their mischievous sallies, which only amused him, he made the wits, who

grew waggish at his expense, his guests at his residence Hammersmith

Mall; where he kept such a table as attracted all classes of society,

and to which his friends were ever welcome. Weltjé's culinary

accomplishments, united with his hospitable proclivities, rendered him

a truly remarkable host; his good humour was imperturbable, his store

of anecdotes inexhaustible, and his German bluntness rather added to

the charm of his pleasantries; even that superfine Sybarite and highly

sensitive exquisite, the Heir Apparent, Mr. Weltjé's patron and

employer, was glad to dissemble his offended dignity when his precious

and immovable cook was the assailant. Angelo, who declares he owed many

a convivial day to the kindness of this rough diamond, assures us in

his _Reminiscences_: 'Whether at Carlton House or his own, Weltjé was

always remarkable for singularity. I have been told that when Alderman

Newnham was one day dining at Carlton House, the Prince said to him,

"Newnham, don't you think there is a strange taste in the soup?" "It

appears so to me, your highness." "Send for Weltjé." When Weltjé made

his appearance, the Prince observed that the soup had a strange taste.

Weltjé called to one of the pages, "Give me de _spoone_," and putting

it in the tureen, after tasting it several times, said, "Boh! boh! tish

very goote," and immediately left the room, leaving the spoon on the

table, without taking further notice of the complaint.'

[Illustration]

It is not, however, with the worthy Weltjé at Carlton House, but at

his own villa, that we have to deal. Angelo introduces us to a capital

dinner-party which took place at Hammersmith Mall, when the old

associates, Rowlandson, Bannister, and Munden, were among the guests;

Madame Banti the opera-singer, and Taylor, also of the Opera House,

with Mr. Palmer of Bath, contributed to make up a tolerably festive

party. The dinner was long and _bien recherché_; the dishes choice,

and cooked in superior style; the sprightly conversation, in which the

company delighted, had been somewhat suspended during the discussion

of a great variety of _entremets_, which were duly appreciated by

all the guests, and especially by Madame Banti, who not only tasted

of every dish, but, in addition to a quantity of strong ale, drank a

bottle of champagne. The guests were preparing for that flow of wine

and conversation which were the _agrémens_ of social intercourse at

the period. The repast was concluded as everyone imagined, and nobody

felt disposed to touch another morsel, when Weltjé's grand piece of

the entertainment made its appearance--a huge boar's head, at which

delicacy everyone stared in consternation.

Weltjé plunged into his element, mixing up _sauces piquantes_ at table,

of such ingredients as oil, lemon, cayenne, and different concomitants.

The guests, already lavishly regaled, were inclined to expostulate.

'Indeed, Weltjé, we have had more than enough.' 'Boh!' responds the

entertainer, 'I vill make you all hungry again; two heads gomed to

dis gontry, von for me, toder for de Queen, dat de Prince of Bronsvick

sent;' and away proceeded the compounding of sauces. The long interval

occupied in Weltjé's culinary preparations was shortened by droll

anecdotes, peculiar to his own description, introduced for the purpose

of distracting the attention. Such was his account of his adventure on

his return home to Hammersmith, in his carriage, from Carlton House.

'Fon I gote to de fost dumbpike beyond Kensington, from town, de goach

stobed some time, fon me say, "Godam, ged on:" fon de dumbike say,

"Sir, dere be nobody on de bokes." I was very much fraightened, so I

did ged up mine-self. The next day gome de goachman: "Pray, sir, fon

am I to ged the carriage ready?" "Tartifle, what become of you last

night?"' The coachman, it appears, had fallen off the box in a drunken

stupor; unhurt, he had, never troubling himself about his charge,

taken a nap all night under a hedge, and attended on his master the

next morning to receive orders as coolly as if nothing unusual had

happened. The _sauce piquante_ is ready by the time the host has raised

a few laughs; clean plates are handed round; a large dish is filled

with slices of the boar's head, swimming in provocative mixtures; and

the guests fall to again; verifying, as Angelo relates, the French

proverb that, _l'appétit vient en mangeant_, or, as Hamlet says, 'As if

increase of appetite had grown with what it fed on.' The second repast

proved so excellent that the plates were continually replenished.

The poets, painters, actors, musicians, and others, who crowded

Weltjé's liberal entertainments, with 'those whose superior station

was more suited to a palace,' then gave themselves up to unrestrained

mirthfulness. The dinner Angelo describes will serve as a type of the

many similar entertainments at which our caricaturist assisted. With

the dessert Madame Banti became somewhat lively, from her repeated

libations of champagne, being, as Angelo informs us, 'in higher spirits

than any French woman I had ever seen. With the enthusiasm of a true

John Bull, she sang "God save the King," that she might have been heard

on the other side of the river. Munden, whom she had never seen before,

sang the "Old Woman of Eighty;" and to give effect to the song, tied

his pocket-handkerchief round his head, though his superior humour

needed no addition. When he had finished his song, Banti left her seat

in ecstasy, and went to the other side of the table, where he and I

were sitting, and was so pleased with his mummery (it could be nothing

else, for Joe never was an Adonis), that she came behind his chair and

kissed him; which, however, did not excite a blush, but an agreeable

surprise. What with the songs, the choice wines, the delicious fruits

(from Weltjé's hothouse), and the zest given to the entertainment by

Banti, it formed such a delightful treat, that the evening passed too

quickly, and it was time to depart long before we were sated with "the

feast of reason and the flow of soul."'

To return to the working life of our caricaturist: it must be borne in

mind that Rowlandson's journeys were not confined to the Continent;

from drawings which have come under our attention, we find he must

have seen the Lakes; it is highly probable that he paid a visit

to Henry Bunbury, who, towards the close of his life, settled at

Keswick, where he died in 1811. We also know, from his works, that

our artist was familiar with England and Wales: his tours, with his

friend Henry Wigstead, have produced many interesting _souvenirs_; we

have described how they travelled to Wales, and how, too, they saw

Cheshire, Cornwall, Devon, and Somerset; we find them scampering off to

the newly established Brighthelmstone, and to the more old-fashioned

watering-places on the coast of Kent. It was at Margate that Rowlandson

lost his most congenial associate, who having gone there, in the autumn

of 1800, for the benefit of his health, did not live to return; the

death of Henry Wigstead was a serious bereavement to the caricaturist,

the earliest of those losses of his cherished associates which

influenced his spirits considerably.

[Illustration]

We can also catch glimpses of Rowlandson on the Scarborough coast, and

in Norfolk. Yarmouth seems to have been a favourite spot with him. We

find him studying at seaports along the south coast; with Plymouth,

Portsmouth, and Southampton he was thoroughly familiar. Of the Thames

and the Medway, and the shipping to be encountered thereon in war-time,

he has left sketches innumerable; he has visited the fishing spots on

the former, and drawn the pretty towns which mark the valley of the

river. With London, and its diversified spots of interest, from east to

west, and north to south--the centre, and the outskirts alike--he had

the most intimate acquaintance. We have already spoken of the drawings

he made in the two University cities, and his series of views of the

noble colleges.

An Historical Sketch of the Art of Caricaturing was written by the

well-known antiquarian J. P. Malcolm, F.S.A., and published in 1813.

This book, which might, had the author so willed, have supplied

the curious with valuable hints, drawn from personal acquaintance,

concerning professors of the art then living, is confined to the

briefest recapitulation, as far as concerns contemporary works, the

book being retrospective in principle; and it is difficult to discover

any allusions of value to those Caricaturists lately deceased or

who were still alive. Malcolm's appreciation of grotesque art was

somewhat catholic, but he does not seem as familiar as might reasonably

be supposed the case, with the masterpieces of the men who were

flourishing in his time, or perhaps their _chefs d'oeuvre_ were then so

generally familiar as to need no further recognition. The compiler of

the Historical Sketch was evidently an amateur of humorous productions,

and could describe the progress of grotesques, but he does not seem to

have completely carried out the scheme of his treatise.

We have borrowed a paragraph from this excellent antiquarian, as an

instance of his criticisms on the subject of the present volume.

'_Rowlandson's Views in Oxford and Cambridge_, 1810, deserve notice

for the slight and pleasing manner with which he has characterised

the architecture of the places mentioned; but it is impossible to

surpass the originality of his figures; the dance of students and

_filles de joie_ before Christ Church College is highly humorous, and

the enraged tutors grin with anger peculiar to this artist's pencil.

The professors, in the view of the Observatory at Oxford, are made as

ugly as baboons, and yet the profundity of knowledge they possess is

conspicuous at the first glance; and we should know them to be Masters

of Arts without the aid of the background. The scene in Emanuel College

Garden, Cambridge, exhibits the learned in a state of relaxation;

several handsome lasses remove apples from a tree, and the indolent

curiosity with which they are viewed by these sons of ease is very

characteristic.'

[Illustration]

While considering Rowlandson in relation to his contemporaries, we

have chiefly to deal with those gifted gentlemen who were, like

himself, generally spoken of in their generation as _caricaturists_,

and to whose works our artist was able, from his more considerable

acquirements, to give a presentable form, and put into circulation

through the medium of his proficiency with the etching-needle.

Foremost among these we must speak of Henry Bunbury, so many of whose

felicitous conceptions have derived additional force and popularity

alike through the agency of our artist.

In speaking of the caricaturist's treatment of these amateur works,

we are glad to be able to offer our readers the respectable testimony

of Thomas Wright in support of our own modest opinion, with which

intention we quote a few paragraphs from our late friend's _History of

Caricature and Grotesque in Literature and Art_.

'At various periods certain of Bunbury's designs were engraved by

Rowlandson, who always transferred his own style to the drawings he

copied. A remarkable instance of this is furnished by a print of a

party of anglers of both sexes in a punt, entitled _Anglers of 1811_

(the year of Bunbury's death). But for the name, "H. Bunbury, del.,"

very distinctly inscribed upon it, we should take this to be a genuine

design by Rowlandson; and in 1803 Rowlandson engraved some copies of

Bunbury's prints on horsemanship for Ackermann, of the Strand, in which

all traces of Bunbury's style are lost.

'There was much of Bunbury's style in that of Woodward, who had a

taste for the same broad caricatures on society, which he executed in

a similar spirit. Some of the _suites_ of subjects of this description

that he published, such as the series of the _Symptoms of the Shop_,

those of _Everybody out of Town_, and _Everybody in Town_, and the

specimens of _Domestic Phrensy_, are extremely clever and amusing.

Woodward's designs were also not unfrequently engraved by Rowlandson,

who, as usual, imprinted his own style upon them. A very good example

of this practice is seen in the print entitled _Desire_, in which the

passion is exemplified in the case of a hungry school-boy, watching

through a window a jolly cook carrying by a tempting plum pudding.

We are told in an inscription underneath: "Various are the ways this

passion might be depicted; in this delineation the subjects chosen

are simple--a hungry boy and a plum pudding." The design of this

print is stated to be Woodward's; but the style is altogether that of

Rowlandson, whose name appears on it as the etcher. It was published by

R. Ackermann on January 20, 1800.'

[Illustration]

In transferring the works of other caricaturists to the copper,

Rowlandson was in the habit of giving his own style to them in such a

degree that nobody would suspect they were not his own if the name of

the designer were not attached to them.

We cannot take leave of the Caricaturists without offering a few slight

particulars concerning the respective careers of the most eminent and

appreciated practitioners of the graphic art in its grotesque bearings.

The fecundity of invention displayed in the works of Henry Bunbury

entitles him to rank among the first in this class of designers. The

happy faculty which he possessed of 'reading character at sight,' and

the rare felicity with which he could embody whatever his observation

or fancy suggested, with that scrambling style which was entirely his

own, evince that he was born with a genius to make a figure in this

pursuit. This gentleman may be instanced as a proof, too, that where

there is an original faculty for any peculiar art, it will develop

itself, though the possessor may be entirely unacquainted with the

scientific principles of art. Nothing could be farther removed from

legitimate art than the style exhibited in the drawings of Bunbury;

yet no one has hit off the peculiarities of character, or expressed

with less exaggeration those traits which constitute the burlesque.

Bunbury, indeed, may be said to have steered his humorous course

between sterling character and caricature. When he appears to outrage

nature by representing distortion of figure or form, the fault is not

intentional. Those who have not properly studied the drawing of the

human figure, must occasionally, in spite of themselves, render their

objects preternatural.

It should be added, in honour to the memory of this gentleman, that he

never used his pencil at the expense of personal feeling. His satire

upon the French people was not individual, but national; and the

characters which he introduced in his humorous designs at home, were

characteristic of a class, but never the individuals of a species.

[Illustration]

Henry William Bunbury, the caricaturist, was born in 1750. He was

educated at Westminster, whence he was removed to St. Catherine's Hall,

Cambridge. On leaving the university he devoted himself, with some

enthusiasm, to the fine arts. He was passionately fond of out-door

sports, and, as in the instance of Leech in our own days, the saddle

held out attractions superior even to the pleasure of exercising his

fancy. His contemporaries were much given to deplore that he preferred

the excitement of risking his neck in the hunting field to the

cultivation of the profession his skill should have adorned. His taste

and invention were admired not only by the most gifted and elevated

persons of his time, but artists and critics alike lavished their

encomiums on the favoured designer. Horace Walpole coveted the sketches

which Bunbury exhibited on the walls of the Academy, while Sir Joshua

Reynolds and Sir Benjamin West combined to pay their finest compliments

to the artist, and to publish abroad their flattering sense of his

merits. Bunbury appears to have spent the greater part of his time on

the estates belonging to his family, varied by trips to the Continent

and visits to his patrons the Duke and Duchess of York, at Richmond and

other residences, with occasional sojourns in Wales, the scenery of

which had considerable attractions for his sense of the picturesque. He

was a frequent guest of Sir W. W. Wynne, and his pencil has celebrated

the theatrical gatherings at Wynnstay. We also meet him in town,

surrounded by illustrious friends, and we find Goldsmith, Garrick,

and other notabilities corresponding with the kindly and generous

caricaturist during his sojourns at his country seat.

Henry Bunbury was married, August 26, 1771, to Catherine, daughter

of Kane William Horneck, Esq., lieutenant-colonel of the army of

Sicily. This lady bore him two sons, and one of them, Sir Henry

Bunbury, we believe, represented the county of Suffolk in Parliament,

after the decease of his uncle Sir Thomas Charles Bunbury, who had

previously enjoyed the distinction. Bunbury, the artist, was elected

lieutenant-colonel of the West Suffolk regiment of militia. His manners

were most popular, and it was remarked that he carried his cheerful

and vivacious spirit into every society he frequented. He died at

Keswick, in Cumberland, where he had settled towards the close of his

life, and his sketches of the mountain scenery in his vicinity are said

to have displayed the hand of a master, and to have gained universal

appreciation for their effect and truthfulness.

As a delineator of character, it is stated 'that his sketches

approached nearest to Hogarth of any painter of his period, in the

representation of life and manners; his pencil never transgresses the

limits of good taste and delicacy, and had he been under the necessity

of pursuing art for profit, instead of amusement and pleasure only,

he would probably have made a great fortune by the produce of his

genius, which the print-sellers have found a lucrative source of gain,

engravings and etchings after his works having always been eagerly

demanded.'

The high estimation in which the caricaturist was personally held is

confirmed by the obituary notice which appeared on his decease in the

_Gentleman's Magazine_; the praise seems to be spontaneous, and its

object, from all we can gather, richly merited the friendly testimony.

'May 7, 1811.--At Keswick, Henry William Bunbury, Esq., second son

of the Rev. Sir William Bunbury, Bart., of Mildenhall, and of Great

Barton, in the county of Suffolk, and brother to the present Sir

Thomas Bunbury, Bart. He was distinguished at a very early age by a

most extraordinary degree of taste and knowledge in the fine arts.

The productions of his own pencil have, from his childhood, been the

admiration and delight of the public. The exquisite humour of some of

his drawings, and the grace and elegance of the rest, were unrivalled;

and he is, perhaps, the only instance in which excellences of such

various and almost opposite character have been united in the same

subject in an equal degree. But though he possessed in this respect

a peculiar genius, he neglected no branch of polite literature. He

was a good classical scholar, and "endowed with the love of sacred

song." The Muses were to him _dulces ante omnia_. He was an excellent

judge of poetry; and the specimens remaining of his own composition

put it beyond a doubt that he would have been as eminent with his

pen as with his pencil, if his natural modesty, underrating his own

powers, had not prevented him from pursuing it with more application.

These accomplishments were conspicuous, and obtained for him universal

esteem. His social and moral qualities, while any of those remain who

shared his friendship, will continue the objects of fond admiration

and regret. No ribaldry, no profaneness, no ill-natured censure, ever

flowed from his lips, but his conversation abounded in humour and

pleasantry; it was charming to persons of all descriptions. No one was

ever in his company without being pleased with him; none ever knew

him without loving him. His feelings were the most benevolent, his

affections the most delicate, his heart the most sincere. He was void

of all affectation, alive to praise, but not obtrusively courting it.

Conscious, but not ostentatious of merit; of unblemished honour; full

of that piety and liberal-handed charity which influences the heart,

and seeks the witness, not of the world, but of his Maker.'

The writer of the obituary notice expressed a conviction, confirmed, as

he stated, by an intimacy of fifty years' standing:--

'All who had,' concludes the memorial, 'the slightest acquaintance

with him, will bear witness to the extraordinary tenderness of his

disposition, to his kind and active friendship, to his universal

benevolence, practically displayed through his entire career.'

[Illustration]

The name of Woodward occurs so frequently in caricatures to which

_Rowlandson sculpsit_ is added, that our readers will probably not

consider the following sketch of this eccentric gifted celebrity either

out of place, or entirely superfluous.

Recapitulating his recollections of humorous artists, Angelo informs

us that--'The inventive genius of one burlesque designer was

exhaustless--George Moutard Woodward, commonly designated by his merry

associates, Mustard George. This original genius was the son of the

steward of a certain wealthy landholder, and resided with his father

in a provincial town, where _nothing_ was less known than _everything_

pertaining to the arts. He was, as his neighbours said, a "_nateral

geni_;" for he drew all the comical _gaffers_ and _gammers_ of the

country round; and having, to use his own words, "_taken off_ the

bench of justices, wigs and all, _shown up_ the mayor and corporation,

_dumb-foundered_ the parson of the parish, silenced the clerk, and

made the sexton laugh at his own _grave_ occupation," he thought it

expedient to beat up for new game in the metropolitan city.

'"A caricaturist in a country town," said George, "like a mad bull in a

china-shop, cannot step without noise; so, having made a little noise

in my native place, I persuaded my father to let me seek my fortune in

town."

'It appears that the caricaturist came not to London, like many another

wit, pennyless; his father allowed him an annuity of first fifty, and

augmented the sum to a hundred pounds. With this income, and what he

obtained by working for the publishers, he was enabled to enjoy life in

his own way; and might be _met_, with a tankard of Burton ale before

him, seated behind his pipe, nightly at Offley's; or, if not there,

smoking the fragrant weed, at the _Cider Cellar_, the _Blue Posts_,

or _The Hole in the Wall_. Latterly, his rendezvous was transferred

to _The Brown Bear_ at Bow Street, where he studied those peculiar

species of low characters, the inhabitants of the round-house, and

the myrmidons of the police. Enamoured with the society of these able

physiognomists, he ultimately took up his quarters at the _Brown Bear_,

and there, to the lively grief of these tenderhearted associates, one

night died in character, suddenly, with a glass of brandy in his hand.

[Illustration]

'The wit and invention of this artist places him above all others

in the personification of low scenes of humour. Among his earliest

productions were those series of groups entitled _Effects of Flattery_,

_Effects of Hope, &c._, which were illustrated by scenes of truly

dramatic excellence, and upon which might well be built farces for

the stage which could not fail to delight the town. His _Babes in the

Wood_, _Raffling for a Coffin_, _The Club of Quidnuncs_, as pieces

of original humour, have never, perhaps, been equalled. Had this low

humourist studied drawing and been temperate in his habits, such was

the fecundity of his imagination and perception of character, that

he might have rivalled even Hogarth. His style, always sufficiently

careless, latterly even outraged the _outré_. Yet there were those,

and men of taste too, who insisted that the humour of his pieces was

augmented by the extravagance of this defect.'

The name of Henry Wigstead will be met with pretty constantly in the

course of this volume; his designs approach the nearest to those of

Rowlandson as far as regards humorous qualities, a cultivated sense

of beauty and grace, and a decided grasp of character, without that

violent divergence from the semblance of humanity as ordinarily

recognised, to which failing the old-fashioned caricaturists were

somewhat over-addicted, as we are inclined to suspect; but, like many

worthy amateurs of his period, his own hand lacked the skill to express

all that his eye saw and his taste appreciated. In the guise of a

skilled translator of crude ideas, our Caricaturist, with ready ease,

and that dexterity which was peculiarly his own, came to the rescue

most efficiently, and his etchings and scrapings have preserved many

a capital design, due to the esteemed Wigstead, which otherwise would

have been lost; the sterling excellence to be detected in many of these

pictorial scenes and satires, renders the action meritorious, which

has enabled posterity to judge how far those praises which partial

contemporaries lavished upon all these non-professional humourists,

were justified by the actual merits of their subjects. We have already

recounted certain jocose and whimsical traits in the disposition and

career of this genial son of merriment; we have nothing to add but

the brief notice from the obituary of _The Gentleman's Magazine_ for

October 1800, which informed many a congenial friend of the loss

society had sustained, and made many a heart feel saddened by the

stroke which had fallen on the kindliest and best of comrades.

'At Margate, where he went for the benefit of his health, Henry

Wigstead, Esq., of Kensington, an active magistrate for the county of

Middlesex.[14] He was a man of considerable talent, and contributed to

the celebrity of the Brandenburgh theatre, both by his pen and his

pencil. He was a good caricaturist, which naturally made him more

enemies than friends. He was hospitable and generous to a degree of

extravagance. He married the daughter of Mr. Bagnal, of Gerard Street,

with whom he had a good fortune, and by whom he leaves two children, a

son and a daughter.'

Another eminent humourist, in whose praise contemporaries were

enthusiastic, but whose biography no one has taken the pains to

collect, was John Nixon, _the facetious Nixon_, as he is generally

entitled in the memoirs and scribblings of the period; beyond the

kindly appreciative anecdotes of this worthy, set down by Angelo,

barely any record exists. Pleasant John Nixon was an Irish factor,

and resided for many years in Basinghall Street, where, over his

dark warehouses, he and his brother Richard kept 'bachelors' court.'

The elder brother, John, however, was the principal mover in all the

convivialities and Bacchanalian revels celebrated in this old-fashioned

dwelling; 'which was not too large for comfort, and yet sufficiently

spacious in the first floor, at least, to spread a table for twelve.

Who that were witty, or highly talented of the days that are gone, who,

loving a social gossip, over a _magnum bonum_ of capital wine, had not

been invited to his hospitable board?' The Nixons were wealthy, and had

the felicity to be well enabled to enjoy life according to their own

liking.

John Nixon, besides possessing a well-deserved reputation for social

qualifications of no ordinary calibre, was a man of taste and talent,

and an amateur performer in various arts, his accomplishments being

multifarious.

As a man of business he was highly respected, as a man of pleasure

universally sought, and as generally esteemed. Sedulous in his

commercial pursuits, in the counting-house his maxim was that there is

time for all things, and he found leisure daily, when the ledger was

closed, to open his heart to the enjoyments of friendly intercourse. 'I

have no objection to placing my knees under another man's table,' the

social _convive_ would say, 'but I had rather seat him at my own.'

Nixon was at home at the Beef-steak Club, where he was made honorary

secretary and providore, a well-bestowed distinction, since he was

a first-rate connoisseur of wines, and a capital judge of a rump of

beef. 'My lord duke,' he would say to the noble president, 'he who

would invite Jupiter to a feast on a steak, should select a prime cut

of little more than half-an-inch thick, from a Norfolk-fed Scot,' and

this, says Angelo, became statute law in that glorious club.

[Illustration]

Among other pursuits for which Nixon obtained notoriety among the

_haut ton_, he was known for his fondness for the stage. An excellent

amateur performer, he shone as one of the stars of the celebrated

private theatricals held at Brandenburgh House, when in the possession

of the Margrave and Margravine of Anspach. It was under the splendid

roof of these entertainers, on an occasion when all the amateurs were

celebrating their host's anniversary, that Nixon was honoured with

his cognomen of 'the well-bred man.' On his late arrival in a piebald

uniform, his blue dress-coat, with the gold buttons of the Beef-steak

Club, being considerably powdered, the wearer, who was not in the least

disconcerted or embarrassed, related, on taking his seat at the table,

a droll tale of adventures on the road, to the hearty amusement of the

company, while the servants were in convulsions of laughter, as Nixon

described how the post-horses were knocked up, and he was obliged to

complete his journey and his engagement in the cart of a baker, where

he got completely dusted with flour; whence the Margravine facetiously

dubbed him the 'well-bread man.'

John Nixon's original talent for the humorous department of the graphic

art was well known; as an honorary exhibitor at the Royal Academy

for many years, his grotesque scenes such as _Bartholomew Fair_, and

village fêtes, abounding with character, diverted the public. Angelo,

in recording the comical celebrity of his friend, mentions, 'Nixon had

the reputation of introducing, through his inventive faculty, that most

amusing species of caricature, the converting spades, hearts, clubs,

and diamonds into grotesque figures and groups, which he designed

with a whimsicality of appropriateness, that Gillray, or even George

Cruikshank himself, might have envied.'

The list of amateur artists, who enjoyed Rowlandson's friendship, and

whose designs received the advantages which his assistance was able

to lend them, will not be complete without the name of Collings, well

known in the regions of Covent Garden, and some time editor of the

_Public Ledger_, who was a lively satirist, both with his pencil and

his pen. 'When Boswell's _Tour to the Hebrides_ was ushered forth,

it was celebrated by as many crackers and squibs as the _Burning of

the Boot_ (Lord Bute). Among other assailants, the impenetrable Bozzy

had to expose his front to this lampooner's shafts. A whole series

of designs were published by this witty wag, the heroes of which,

or rather the knight and the esquire of his drama, were Johnson and

Boswell. The knight, it is likely, never saw them; and, as for the

squire, his love of notoriety rendered him, if not vain of, at least

not vulnerable to, these successive attacks.[15]

'The Laird of Auchinlek, indeed, had a large collection of these

satires upon "self and company," as he used facetiously to inscribe

them, and boasted at the judge's table that his _History_ would be more

copiously illustrated than even the Lord High Chancellor, Clarendon's.'

Caleb Whiteford, another crony of the caricaturist, was an excellent

judge of paintings (especially works by the old masters) and was

generally known as a fervent admirer of George Moreland's pictures;

he was the reputed discoverer of 'cross readings,'[16] and a dabbler

in verse. It was he who, as everyone will remember, received such a

complimentary notice in the postscript to the mock epitaphs known

as Goldsmith's _Retaliation_, that there were not wanting those who

contributed to the flattery by suspecting that the additional epitaph

was due to Caleb's own pen.

Old Caleb Whiteford, the witty wine-merchant and 'connoisseur in old

masters,' knew everyone of any reputation, and was well-received at

the various hospitable boards to which allusions have been made in the

course of these discursive notes; he was a welcome guest at numerous

convivial gatherings of the artistic and literary coteries of the

period, whose jovial meetings and good cheer have been suffered to pass

into oblivion, unrecorded by the scribes who shared 'the cakes and

ale,' in the palmy days of sociable festivities and kindly familiar

intercourse.

'Mr. Ephraim Hardcastle, citizen and drysalter,' as he whimsically

elected to style himself--in sober fact, W. H. Pyne, the artist to

whose literary ventures we have already referred--has on occasions come

to the rescue in his _Wine and Walnuts, or after-dinner Chit-Chat_.

Here is the report of a conversation concerning Rowlandson, which is

supposed to have taken place between Whiteford and the caricaturist's

jolly friend Mitchell, culled from the _Chit-Chat_ in question, which

was published in 1823.

'Well, Master Caleb Whiteford[17] was on his way up the hill in

the Adelphi to his post at the Society of Arts, and who should he

stumble upon at the corner of James Street, just turning round from

Rowlandson's, but Master Mitchell, the quondam banker of old Hodsoll's

house. He had, as usual, been foraging among the multitudinous sketches

of that original artist, and held a portfolio under his arm, and as

he was preparing to step into his chariot, Caleb accosted him: "Well,

worthy sir; what! more choice bits--more graphic whimsies to add to the

collection at Enfield, eh? Well, how fares it with our friend Roly?" (a

familiar term by which the artist was known to his ancient cronies).

[Illustration]

'"Why, yes, Master Caleb Whiteford, I go collecting on, though I

begin to think I have enough already, for I have some hundreds of

his spirited works; but somehow there is a sort of fascination

in these matters, and--heigh--ha--ho--hoo!" (gaping) "I never go

up--up--bless the man, why will he live so high? It kills me to climb

his stairs"--holding his ponderous sides--"I never go up, Mister Caleb,

but I find something new, and am tempted to pull my purse-strings. His

invention, his humour, his--his oddity is exhaustless." "Yes," said

Whiteford, "Master Roly is never at a loss for a subject, and I should

not be surprised if he is taking a bird's-eye view of you and me at

this moment, and marking us down for game. But it is not his drawings

alone; why, he says he has etched as much copper as would sheathe a

first-rate man-of-war; and I should think he is not far from the mark

in his assertion.'

'"Yes," replied the banker, "he ought to be rich, for his genius is

certainly the most exhaustless, the most--the most--no, Mister Caleb,

there is no end to him; he manufactures his humorous ware with such

increasing vigour, that I know not what to compare his prolific fancy

to, unless it be to the increasing population....

'"Roly has promised to come down. I would have taken the rogue with me,

only that he is about some new scheme for his old friend Ackermann,

there, and he says he must complete it within an hour. You know Roly's

expedition."'

James Heath, also a caricaturist, and a delineator of sporting

sketches, was another of Rowlandson's intimates; a Good-Friday jaunt,

or an Easter excursion, was for many years indulged by these worthies,

who with genial Bannister, the comedian, and their faithful chronicler,

Henry Angelo, the fencing-master, annually kept up the practice of

proceeding on a jovial expedition at this season, some distance from

town, Staines, Windsor, or some similar starting-point, being the

rendezvous selected by these congenial spirits.

The list of Rowlandson's friends would be incomplete without the name

of George Moreland, who, with all his eccentricities and shortcomings,

was another favoured child of fortune, whose inheritance was natural

genius; and though the fairy gift was turned to the very worst account,

dragged through the mire of dissipation, and sordidly made to supply

the means of that social degradation, which lowered the possessor

beneath his worst associates, the power remained in the poor shattered

wreck, and did not forsake him until, in a state of premature decay, he

perished miserably before his easel.

A sketch of Moreland's career is by no means called for in this

place. His erratic disposition was not without its whimsical traits;

sufficient anecdotes exist of the wayward painter to prove that,

beyond his happy qualifications for his art, there was found in his

composition a spice of pleasantry that did not always degenerate into

buffoonery or horse-play, with occasional flashes of wit and sprightly

allusions which, to say the least of them, were remarkably apposite.

Perhaps too much stress has been laid upon Moreland's deficiencies,

while his more agreeable traits have been somewhat slighted. Putting

aside the numerous anecdotal sketches of the painter, we have only

to record, in this place at least, that a friendship existed between

the subject of this volume and the man to whose sketches those of

our caricaturist frequently offer a suggestive resemblance, it being

actually difficult to distinguish between the unsigned etchings and

drawings of the two artists, in the walk practised by Moreland. The

similarity of their talent is more evident perhaps in the larger

hunting scenes, and the studies of female heads, tinted in colours,

than in any other direction; although, with the pencil or the chalk,

their rustic landscapes, from the freedom of their respective

handlings, are remarkably alike, both in the choice of subjects and the

spirit of the execution.

As we have already noticed, the most characteristic portrait of

Moreland, and the one which appears to offer us the most life-like

representation of the capricious painter, is due to the skill of

Rowlandson. We are informed, in a note which we gather from Angelo,

that Moreland, in his various flittings round the metropolis in

dread of creditors, when he took sanctuary with any intimate whose

residence he happened to remember, gave his colleague the caricaturist

the opportunity of exhibiting his friendship by harbouring him in

his lodgings under one of these emergencies, which were of tolerably

frequent occurrence. 'Rowlandson, the artist, lodged at Mrs. Lay's

printshop, a few doors from Carlton House, Pall Mall. One morning

when I called upon him, we heard a loud knock at the street door, and

looking out of the window, he said, "There's Colonel Thornton----knock

again! He may be at this fun three months longer; he is come for his

picture, but Moreland, having touched fifty pounds in advance, is never

at home to him now. He's in the next room, which he has for painting.

You had better go and do the same with him, and drink gin and water;

he'll like your company, and make you a drawing for nothing." This was

in the middle of the day.'

We are inclined to think that the most memorable of the caricaturist's

associates was James Gillray, whose age was within a year of that of

Rowlandson; it is a coincidence that two unrivalled geniuses, and

in such eccentric walks, should have been both contemporaries, and

steady-going friends, never clashing in the course of their respective

careers. In this work various allusions will be noticed to the intimacy

which subsisted between these remarkably gifted men, each perfectly

original in his fashion, and both possessing singular points of

resemblance in their characters.

[Illustration]

We content ourselves with mentioning that they occasionally entered

into friendly alliances, but that, when pitted against each other,

they had more regard for friendship than for party warfare, which they

utterly despised, except as an opening for the exercise of their skill.

Gillray and Rowlandson were, perhaps, never properly appreciated in

their generation, the higher capacities which distinguished both these

spoiled pets and wilful sons of Momus, were comparatively slighted, if

not completely ignored; all that was vulgar, wayward, and wild in their

dispositions was fostered and enlarged upon; their errors, and their

occasional lapses into downright coarseness, were, according to the

lights of the day, flattered and encouraged as flights of the raciest

humour; the crude, careless, and commonplace, received too frequently a

hearty and undeserved recognition, which their ambitious efforts failed

to inspire; the very productions they scorned were exalted, while, when

they felt the magic fire warming their imaginations, the results were

misunderstood too commonly.

Their keen intellects, and their satiric sense of the almost constant

unfitness of things as they found them, the gnawing of the vanity of

vanities, ever present, must have made their temperaments peculiarly

sensitive to such slights as the want of discrimination in their

admirers which occasionally shocked and continually disheartened

them--evils which the want of culture, or consideration on the part of

their audience, continually brought in their train.

It is no matter of surprise that the enchantments which they saw before

them at the opening of their careers, vanished all too soon, and left

them chilled, and inclined to become misanthropes; the very genius,

which promised to be a delight to themselves and to mankind, proving a

bitter curse.

When the satirists, who felt alike and were sympathetic on most points,

met, it seems their intercourse was the reverse of boisterous--in fact,

they were rather inclined to be depressed, or, at least, they shrunk

within themselves with a more marked contrast to the conduct which

should, it was supposed, distinguish notorious pictorial humourists,

and became, perhaps, a trifle more retired and undemonstrative

than ordinary--possibly to the disappointment of the less-informed

_habitués_, who evidently thought they were defrauded of a diversion,

and had a right to anticipate, these gentlemen being in a sort graphic

jesters by profession, that in private life they would feel themselves

impelled to play off a little whimsical jugglery for the entertainment

of the company. These professional tricks belonged to the lesser

lights, and we warrant that Woodward, Collings, Newton, and the smaller

following of the eccentric art, were infinitely more amusing to the

taste of their auditors.

It is certain Gillray was grave and self-contained, and Rowlandson,

in his degree, participated in his friend's humour, slightly at

first, perhaps, as a passing depression, and, later in life, with an

intensified and growing grimness, and a gathering gloom, as friends

dropped off, and age crept on, and the caricaturist's world was

materially altered for him, as his work seemed over.

'For years Gillray occasionally smoked his pipe at _The Bell_, _The

Coal-Hole_, or _The Coach and Horses_; and, although the _convives_,

whom he met at such dingy rendezvous, knew that he was that Gillray

who fabricated those comical cuts, the very moral of Farmer George and

Boneyparty, of Billy Pitt and Black Charley, he never sought, like

that low coxcomb Moreland, to become king of the company. He neither

exacted, nor were they inclined to pay him, any particular homage.

In truth, with his associates, neighbouring shopkeepers and master

manufacturers, he passed for no greater wit than his neighbours.

Rowlandson, his ingenious compeer, and he, sometimes met. They would,

perhaps, exchange half-a-dozen questions and answers upon the affairs

of copper and aquafortis; swear all the world was one vast masquerade,

and then enter into the common chat of the room, smoke their cigars,

drink their punch, and sometimes early, sometimes late, shake hands at

the door, look up at the stars, say "It is a frosty night," and depart,

one for the Adelphi, the other to St. James's Street, each to his

bachelor's bed.'[18]

Our friend Angelo, a bright chirpy spirit, who retained his liveliness

unimpaired, let us hope, to the last of his long days, not having any

pretensions to be a genius, was exempt from the sinister tendencies

which too frequently attend its possession. Although, as he confesses

in his _Memoirs_, not precisely the 'rose' himself, he had lived near

it, and his association with men of an admittedly high type, as far

as gifts of fancy and versatile talents were concerned, had taught

him to observe the drawbacks not unusually allied to distinguishing

attainments; and he records a few sober axioms for the enlightenment of

those who have been excluded from his privileges.

'Those who at a distance contemplate characters like these, so

professedly eminent for invention, wit, and satirical humour, naturally

suppose their society must be universally sought; and that such must,

of necessity, be the life and soul of the convivial board. Men,

however, who see much and speculate but little, know better. Among the

dullest in company could be pointed out those who are "wondrous witty"

by themselves; and this not from pride of their superior faculty to

please, but from a constitutional shyness or modest desire to avoid

notice or applause--or from indolence, or actually from conscious

dulness when absent from the study and the desk, when without the

pencil and the pen.

'Peter Pindar was witless, even over his bottle, with his most intimate

cronies. Anthony Pasquin was sour, and not prone to converse. Churchill

was a sulky sot. Butler was lively neither drunk nor sober--a choice

companion only when "half gone;" hence, as the witty Duke of Buckingham

observed, "he was to be compared to a skittle, little at both ends, but

great in the middle!" Burton, who had no less humour than Cervantes,

and the learning of a whole university to boot, was neither a cheerful

companion, nor endurable to himself. A hundred more could be named,

whose aptitude and promptness to discover the ridiculous side of human

action, has astonished the grave; and yet, these men who have thus

exposed folly to the laughter of mankind, have been themselves the

dullest dogs alive. Gillray was always "hipped," and at last sunk into

that deplorable state of mental aberration which verifies the couplet,

so often quoted, wherein the consanguinity of wit to madness is so

eminently proved, to the comfort of those who thank God for their own

stupidity.'

Perhaps the most constant friend, and certainly the best adviser, our

caricaturist retained to the grave was his principal publisher, Mr.

Rudolph Ackermann. We have mentioned this gentleman last among the

personal associates of Rowlandson, as his untiring services only ended

with the life of the artist.

The name of Rudolph Ackermann, who died March 30, 1834, is worthy

of more than a passing mention; he has been cited as one of the

first natives of Germany who, by far-sighted and active occupation,

accompanied by philanthropic exertions for the benefit of his

fellow-creatures, raised the character of his nationality to a high

point of esteem in other countries. An account of his energetic and

charitable career appeared in the _Didaskalia_, Frankfurt-am-Main,

No. 103, April 13, 1864, and was adopted by the writer (W. P.) of

an excellent notice upon the well-known publisher, in the pages of

_Notes and Queries_, (4th S. iv., August 7 and 14, 1869). The son of a

coach-builder, Rudolph Ackermann was born April 20, 1764, at Stolberg,

in the Saxon Hartz. We are told 'his sympathies with the misfortunes

of others were so warmly excited by the misery seen around him in the

famine of 1772-73, that he frequently in later years excused the zeal

which he showed on other occasions, by pictures of the distress that he

experienced when he, at the age of eight years, was employed for hours

daily in distributing food and money.' In 1775 his father removed to

Schneeberg. Rudolph received his education in the local school till he

was fifteen years old, and showed a decided predilection for literary

pursuits; but his father's pecuniary position precluding the choice

of a profession to more than one of his sons, he entered the paternal

factory. An elder brother, Frederick, instructed Rudolph in the use

of the drawing instruments, and he busied himself more willingly

in the offices than in the workshops, gaining an acquaintance with

details, which proved subsequently as important to his advancement

as were his visits to Dresden, the towns of the Rhine, and Hueningen

near Basle. He afterwards went to reside in Paris, where he became

the friend of Carrossi, the most esteemed designer of equipages of

his time, and Rudolph, who proved his best pupil, acquired sufficient

knowledge as a practical draughtsman to push his way in the world. From

Paris he proceeded to London in pursuit of fortune, and to turn his

talents to account: he was delighted to find that, in the metropolis,

carriage-building was one of the most successful occupations, and that

the exercise of his acquirements would be handsomely rewarded; so for

several years, until 1795, he was employed in furnishing the principal

coachmakers with designs and models for new and improved carriages.

The models of the state coach, built at the cost of nearly 7,000_l._,

for the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland in 1790,[19] and that for the Lord

Mayor of Dublin in 1791, exhibited his taste and skill. In 1805, the

preparation of the car that served as a hearse at the funeral of Lord

Nelson was entrusted to him; and during the years 1818-20 the patent

for a moveable axle for carriages engaged much of his attention.

It is not, however, in this connection that we have to consider

Ackermann, but rather in his relation to the arts as a print-seller

and publisher. On his marriage with an English lady, with commendable

prudence, he became desirous of establishing a business which would,

in case of his own premature decease, prove a suitable provision for

his family. He commenced the print trade at 96 Strand, and soon after

he secured a large apartment, 65 feet long, 30 feet wide, and 24 feet

high, at 101 Strand (erected upon the courtyard of Beaufort House),

which had been the drawing academy of William Shipley; it had then

passed to Henry Pars, and later passed into the hands of the Radicals,

and became notorious as the British Forum, when it was used by John

Thelwall for his oratorical lectures. These meetings exceeding the

bounds of reasonable political discussion, the Government instituted

prosecutions, and the Forum ceased to exist. On the ministerial

interference, October 1794, Mr. Ackermann was enabled to secure the

lease of the premises, and the room was again used as a school for

drawing. In 1796 the entire business was removed to 101 Strand. The

drawing academy seems to have flourished; and in 1806 there were three

masters engaged for figures, landscape, and architecture, and some

eighty pupils were resorting to the school, when the requirements of

the founder's business, as a publisher, printseller, and dealer in

fancy articles, papers, medallions, and artist's materials, had so

increased, that the convenience of this room as a warehouse became of

more consideration than the continuance of the school.

During the revolutionary era, and when French emigrants were numerous

in this country, Mr. Ackermann was one of the first to find a liberal

employment for the refugees; it is said that he had seldom less than

fifty nobles, priests, and ladies engaged upon screens, card-racks,

flower-stands, and other ornamental work.

His inventive faculties and his disposition to take up with new ideas

were marked by many improvements he introduced. At the beginning

of the century he was one of the first who arrived at a method of

waterproofing paper, leather, woollen stuffs, and felted fabrics, in

which he obtained for some time considerable traffic; this branch was

conducted in a factory he established at Chelsea for the purpose.

He further contrived an apparatus which was at least ingenious, both in

theory and intention. To counteract Napoleon's endeavours, by bridling

the newspapers, to keep the French nation in complete ignorance, as was

actually the case, of events that were disastrous to him, Mr. Ackermann

bethought himself of reviving, for the annoyance of the enemy, the use

made by the French in 1794-96 of aërostation in _L'Entreprenant_ and

the _Télémaque_; and he contrived a simple mechanism which would, every

minute, detach thirty printed placards from a packet of three thousand.

Three such parcels were attached to balloons thirty-six inches in

diameter, made of gold-beater's skin, and committed to the air in the

summer of 1807. The success of the experiment was proved at Woolwich

in the presence of a Government commission. With a southerly wind the

balloons passed over Salisbury and Exeter, and several of the placards,

as a proof of the practical working of the machinery, were returned to

London from various parts of the country.

Mr. Ackermann was one of the first inhabitants of London who adopted

the use of gas as a means of artificial light to his premises.

The establishment of lithography in England was another example of

his patient and persevering expenditure of money and time in the

introduction and improvement of a novelty. 'He was not content with

translating Alois Senefelder's treatise in 1819, but made a journey to

the residence of that inventor, in order to exchange the results of

their theory and practice before producing in 1822 a _Complete Course_.

The business relations between leading artists and Mr. Ackermann

enabled him to induce them to touch the lithographic chalk; so in 1817,

through Prout and others, the process became an acceptable, or rather

a fashionable mode of multiplying drawings; lithography, for want of

such advantages, when introduced into this country by Mr. Andréc, of

Offenbach, in its original and rude state, had failed to make its way,

and all its subsequent success may be attributed to Mr. Ackermann's

personal emulation of the advancement it made in Munich.'

In 1813, upon receiving an authentic account from Count Schönfeld

of the misery produced in Germany by Napoleon's wars, particularly

in Saxony, culminating in engagements at Leipzig (during the 'five

days' October 15-19, 1813), 'Mr. Ackermann temporarily abandoned the

oversight of his own multifarious occupations, in order to exert

all his strength in procuring aid for the sufferers. With the help

of the Duke of Sussex, he formed a committee in Westminster and in

the City; the first obtained a Parliamentary grant of 100,000_l._,

and the second furnished a larger sum in private contributions. This

was the occasion on which the use of Whitehall Chapel was granted

for a musical performance in aid of the subscription. For two years,

Mr. Ackermann undertook the task of corresponding with the German

committees for distributing these sums, examining into the urgency of

the appeals for help, and apportioning the fund. The members of "The

Westminster Association for the further relief of the sufferers by the

war in Germany," were anxious to commemorate their sense of the pains,

prudence, and probity Mr. Ackermann had displayed, by presenting him

with a testimonial in silver; this costly acknowledgment, together with

a vote of thanks proposed to be inscribed on parchment in gold, he

had the modesty to decline, begging that all thanks for his services

might be comprised in a few autograph lines from the Archbishop of

Canterbury.'

In his business relations we are told, 'the discretion which he

exercised in choosing his subordinates, and the liberal manner in which

he repaid their services, enabled him to produce several books which

deserve the notice of all those who know how to appreciate the merit

of these illustrated works in colour, relatively to others of similar

pretension, both of that time and of the present day.

'A long list might be formed by enumerating the literary, musical,

and scientific men of more or less eminence, who appeared as his

coadjutors, and who enjoyed his intimacy. Several of them owed to him

a helping hand, either in their first efforts or in their declining

fortunes. To the end of his days he retained a strongly-marked German

pronunciation of the English language, which gave additional flavour

to the banters and jests uttered in his fine bass voice; but he wrote

in English with great purity on matters of affection and business long

before middle life.

'From early in 1813, every Wednesday evening in March and April was

given to a reception, half a conversazione and half a family party, in

his large room, which then, as at other times, served as an exhibition

of English and foreign books, maps, prints, woodcuts, lithographs,

drawings, paintings, and other works of art and ornament, besides the

leading Continental periodicals. There on those evenings, by annual

invitation,[20] amateurs, artists, and authors were sure to find people

whom they knew, or wanted to know. Many an introduction grew to an

acquaintance; and the value of such evenings to foreigners was often

gratefully acknowledged by travellers, who, with any distinction in art

or literature, were welcome without any other introduction.

'His active assiduity and his spirited enterprise were suspended by a

weakness of sight, commencing from his charitable exertions in 1814,

which made his repose at Camberwell, and afterwards at Ivy Lodge in the

Fulham Road, first a matter of prudence, and later on of necessity. In

the spring of 1830 he experienced an attack of paralysis, and never

recovered sufficiently to exert his intelligence in business. He

removed for a change of air to Finchley, but a second stroke produced

a gradual decline of strength in the honourable old man; and March 30,

1834, saw an end put to the hearty kindness, constant hospitality,

and warm beneficence which had been inseparable from his unquestioned

integrity. He was interred on April 9 in the family grave, in the

burial-ground of St. Clement Danes.'[21]

* * * * *

The little that remains to be recorded of the Caricaturist is best

expressed by the kindly writer, a friend of nearly half a century's

standing, who contributed an obituary notice of the artist to the

_Gentleman's Magazine_ (June 1827).

It is not generally known that, although a considerable proportion

of Rowlandson's humorous political and social etchings are in many

instances strongly tinctured by an absence of refinement in taste, and

are roughly executed--the means simply of tiding over some pressing

necessity, or providing funds for further relaxations--his early works

were characterised by painstaking and conscientious application; and

his studies from the human figure at the Royal Academy were scarcely

inferior to the productions of Mortimer, then the most admired and

proficient among the Academic professors.

From the versatility of his talent, the fecundity of his imagination,

his command of composition, in which he equalled the greatest masters,

the grace and elegance with which he could design his groups, added

to the almost miraculous despatch with which he supplied his patrons

with perfectly original compositions upon every subject, it was a

theme of regret at his decease, that he had not sufficiently valued

his reputation, to which it has been suspected he was thoroughly

indifferent. It was universally admitted in his own days that, had he

pursued the course of art steadily, he might have become one of the

foremost and most celebrated historical painters of the English school.

His style, which was purely his own, was unquestionably original. His

bold, fluent, and spiritedly turned outlines were thrown off with easy

dexterity, with his famous reed-pen, in a tint composed of vermilion

and Indian-ink, the general effect was rapidly washed in, so as to

produce an effective _chiaro-oscuro_, and the whole was coloured in

tender tints with a most harmonious arrangement of colour.

His manner, though slight in almost every instance, is highly

effective; and it is known on indubitable authority that the presidents

of the Royal Academy, Sir Joshua Reynolds and Sir Benjamin West, whose

manners were most foreign to those of the Caricaturist, individually

asserted their conviction that many of his drawings would have done

honour to Rubens, or to the most esteemed masters of design of the old

schools.

For many years he was too indolent to seek new employment, and his

kind friend, and it may be added with justice, his best adviser, Mr.

Ackermann, the respected and leading publisher of Rowlandson's period,

supplied him with ample subjects for the exercise of his talent. The

many works which his pencil illustrated are existing evidence of this,

and books containing impressions from Rowlandson's etchings continue to

fetch high prices, and are industriously sought after. Many suggestions

for plates to enliven new editions of _The Travels of Dr. Syntax_, _The

Dance of Death_, _The Dance of Life_, and other well-known productions

of the pen of the prolific Coombe, the Defoe of the eighteenth century,

will remain esteemed and lasting mementoes of his graphic humour.

It should be repeated that his reputation had never reached its full

maturity in the life-time of Mr. Ackermann, his friend, patron, and

publisher. The inimitable water-colour drawings of Rowlandson, of which

he had a large collection, were justly appreciated by connoisseurs, and

his folios have often been viewed with admiration and delight by the

many professional artists and amateurs who frequented Mr. Ackermann's

conversazioni at his library at the old house in the Strand. No artist

of the past or present school, perhaps, ever expressed so much as

Rowlandson, with so little effort, or with so evident an appearance of

the absence of labour.

The artist's remains were followed to the grave by the two friends of

his youth, John Bannister and Henry Angelo, and his constant friend and

liberal employer, Rudolph Ackermann.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The preparation of _The Works of James Gillray, the Caricaturist,

with a Story of his Life and Times_ (376 pp. quarto), was in itself no

bagatelle; and three working years of steady application were invested

in its pages and illustrations.

[2] The Editor, among other special subjects, of a descriptive

catalogue of the works of George Cruikshank. 3 volumes quarto.

Published by Messrs. Bell and Sons, 1871. (Only 130 copies printed.)

[3] _Vauxhall Gardens_ (503), _An Italian Family_ (462), _The

Serpentine River_ (511); _vide_ Catalogue of the Royal Academy (1784),

Fourteenth Exhibition.

[4] In the early Exhibition Catalogues, studies in water-colours, where

the primitive sepia or Indian ink was supplemented by other tints, are

described as STAINED DRAWINGS.

[5] The artist's name frequently occurs upon his plates as his own

publisher, and, as might be anticipated, the prints produced under this

sponsorship are invariably of his most popular description.

[6] The original sketches of this series were recently bequeathed to

the South Kensington Museum, where they are attributed to Bunbury:

a contemporary advertisement (1786) announces the designs to the

forthcoming _Journal of a Tour in the Hebrides_ to be furnished by

Collings and Rowlandson.

[7] A somewhat different version of the origin of this caricature is

given in the _Memoirs of John Bannister, Comedian_, by John Adolphus

(8vo., 1839): 'His friend and fellow-student Rowlandson was, unhappily,

much addicted to games of chance, and Bannister used to remonstrate

with him on the subject with amiable but ineffectual perseverance. On

one of these occasions John Raffaelle Smith, the engraver, admonished

Bannister on the inutility of his efforts. "You may spare your sympathy

and advice also," he said; "for that Tom Rowlandson was, is, and ever

will be incurable." The artist, in merry revenge, brought out a print

called _Hawks and a Pigeon_, in which Smith, endowed for the occasion

with a most villanous aspect, the very personation of a sharper and a

knave, exhibited conspicuously.

'By way of reprisal, Smith produced a well-known and popular engraving,

in which Rowlandson and some others are represented as confederates in

fleecing an innocent. Bannister lent his aid in forming the group, and,

putting on for the occasion a face from which all appearance of sense

was effectually banished, sat for the young dupe. Parsons on seeing the

production said: "Why, Jack! you are the last of your fraternity that

I should have selected for the model of a flat. Why, when you were a

little Cupid in the green-room, Kitty Clive, who was not apt to mince

matters, used to say you looked as innocent as a little sucking devil."'

[8] This was written in 1830.

[9] A correspondent to _Notes and Queries_, who signs S. R. (4th

Series, IV., September 11, 1869, p. 224), while alluding to this

drawing, also mentions having seen a portrait of George III. by

Rowlandson, which possessed great art merit; and adds: 'I possess early

drawings by him, executed with a fine quill pen, and most tenderly

tinted, which are highly refined in style, excellent in drawing, and in

elegance and grace may be classed with the productions of Stothard.'

[10] According to the Royal Academy Catalogue, Rowlandson removed from

133 Wardour Street to 50 Poland Street, Pantheon, between 1786 and 1787.

[11] The drawing of the four ruffians is now, we understand, in the

possession of Mr. William Bates, B.A., &c., and forms one of an

interesting collection of caricatures by Rowlandson held by that

admirer of his works. _See Account of Original Drawings in the

Appendix._

[12] The main characteristics of this subject belong to _Careless

Attention_, 1789: a dashing son of Mars taking the place of the black

flunkey.

[13] Mr. Henry G. Bohn, the well-known publisher, informed the writer

that at one period he had a collection of drawings by Rowlandson,

chiefly fine Continental views, such as the Series in Holland and

Flanders, made for the artist's patron Mitchell the banker, numbering

nearly a hundred.

[14] Sitting magistrate at Bow Street.

[15] See Boswell (the Elder). _Twenty Caricatures by Collings and

Rowlandson in Illustration of Boswell's 'Journal of a Tour in the

Hebrides, 1786._'

[16] These cross-readings obtained such celebrity that the inventor

was tempted to distribute amongst his friends specimens, which 'he had

been at the expense of printing upon small single sheets.' We quote

a couple of examples from a slip, which was in the possession of J.

T. (_Antiquity_) Smith's family, and, being considered something of a

curiosity, is given in the pages of _Nollekens and his Times_.

Sunday night many noble families were alarmed--

By the constable of the watch, who apprehended them at cards.

Wanted, to take care of an elderly gentlewoman--

An active young man, just come from the country.

[17] Caleb Whiteford was Vice-President of the Society for the

Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce.

[18] _Somerset House Gazette and Literary Museum_, No. 26. By Ephraim

Hardcastle (W. H. Pyne). 1824.

[19] The reader may observe a similar chariot in the Museum at South

Kensington; it might readily be mistaken for the one referred to above,

and is of the most elaborate character. It is described as 'built

for the Lord Chancellor of Ireland (1780), the panels painted by W.

Hamilton, R.A.'

[20] According to Mr. Jerdan, the first _missive printed on stone_

(drawings having been printed by this process some while before), was

an invitation to one of Ackermann's conversaziones: 'Mr. Ackermann has

the honour to inclose a card of invitation to a Literary Meeting at

his Library, on Tuesday, the 20th February, at seven o'clock in the

evening; and on the same evening in each week, until the 10th day of

April inclusive.

[21] _Notes and Queries_, August 1869. See article signed W. P.

1774, 1780-81.

_June 8, 1774._ _A Rotation Office._--A chief magistrate is seated at

a table, and three justices, with their hats on, and sticks in their

hands, are seated beside him. To the left of the chief is the justice's

clerk; and behind the bench is a placard, 'Robbery and Murder. Reward

of Justice.'

[Illustration: THE VILLAGE DOCTOR.]

_June 8, 1774._ _The Village Doctor._ Published by H. Humphrey, Bond

Street.--This print appears to have been about the earliest recognised

specimen of Rowlandson's handiwork. The plate has a wash of aquatint,

all over it, and the etching is free and bold. As an early work it

evinces certain carefulness and discrimination, which promised well

for the artist's future if he persevered in the same direction. The

suggestion of the subject, according to the initials, is due to Henry

Wigstead, whose name appears on numerous fine examples of Rowlandson's

skill. The village practitioner, outside whose cottage is the sign of

a gilt pestle, has evidently been disturbed under false pretences on

previous occasions, and now a real client has knocked him up, for the

benefit of his professional services, his indignation is bursting forth

on the wrong object.

_1780. Scene at Streatham. Bozzy and Piozzi._

BOZZY.

Who, mad'ning with an anecdotic itch,

Hath said that Johnson called his mother, witch?

MADAME PIOZZI.

Who, from Macdonald's rage to save his snout,

Cut twenty lines of defamation out?

The scene of this animated dispute is the Library at the house lately

inhabited by the departed Thrale. Mrs. Piozzi (late Mrs. Thrale) and

Boswell are in high dudgeon over their respective memoirs of their

idol, the defunct Doctor Johnson. In both of their 'Lives' the trifling

weaknesses of the great Lexicographer are made ridiculous, under the

misguiding impulse of the 'anecdotic itch.' The rival biographers

are bouncing and stamping about the study, in a fine rage, ready to

pull one another to pieces. The learned lady's second husband, the

stout musician, Piozzi, with his violoncello by his side, is seated

in an easy chair, regarding the disputants with consternation, while

deprecating violence.

Peter Pindar's lines on the subject are appended to the plate; an

additional couplet or two are worth borrowing:--

BOZZY.

How could your folly tell, so void of truth,

That miserable story of the youth

Who, in your book, of Dr. Johnson begs,

Most seriously, to know if _cats laid eggs_?

MADAME PIOZZI.

_Who_ told of Mrs. Montague the lie--

So palpable a falsehood? Bozzy, fy!

* * * * *

BOZZY.

_Who_ would have said a word about Sam's wig;

Or told the story of the _peas_ and _pig_?

MADAME PIOZZI.

_Now_ for a _saint_ upon us you would palm him;

First _murder_ the poor man, and then _embalm him_!

BOZZY.

His character so shockingly you handle--

You've sunk your _comet_ to a _farthing candle_.

_March 1780._ _Special Pleading._ Published by A. McKenzie, 101 Berwick

Street, Soho.

Lovely Nymph, assuage my anguish,

At your feet behold a swain,

Begs you will not let him languish;

One kind word will ease his pain.

A stout knight (possibly a lineal descendant of Sir John Falstaff) is

the _Pleader_; he is lounging on an elegant sofa of the early Georgian

period, making inane love to a pretty girl placed by his side, dressed

in a picturesque Watteau-like costume, with a quilted petticoat and a

quaint mob-cap added; the amorous old trifler's hand is on the slim

waist of the beauty; the damsel is standing up in a negligently easy

pose, while she is toying with her antiquated admirer and waving his

enormous and elaborately curled double-tailed wig in the air. A dog

is at her side. The drawing of this picture is unusually graceful

and easy, even for Rowlandson; this is most noticeable in respect to

the pretty coquette. The etching is spirited and brilliant, and the

background and accessories are delicately aquatinted, to bear out the

resemblance to a sketch in Indian ink.

_July 18, 1780._ _The School of Eloquence._--The interior of a

fashionable debating society of the period; the members are the quality

of both sexes. The design was doubtless admirably worked out in the

original drawing; but it has suffered at the hands of an unknown

etcher. Published by Archibald Robertson, Savile Passage.

_September 1, 1780._ _Italian Affectation._ _Pacchierolti._--The

figures of two distinguished foreigners, as imported into this country

over a century ago, for the delectation of the _cognoscendi_ and

the leaders of high taste. A pair of overdressed Italian artists,

extravagantly posturing to one another in some operatic _scena_. A

spindle-shanked signor, hat in hand, is pouring out his ardour to

an affected and modish _prima donna_ in a love-making situation,

outrageously burlesqued.

_September 18, 1780._ _Sir Samuel House._--The full-length portrait

of 'Honest Sam House,' famous in his day for his zeal and patriotism,

the enthusiastic supporter of Fox, a character familiar to all the

electors of Westminster, as an indefatigable canvasser on behalf of

the 'Friend of the People;' during the contests for Westminster, Sam

kept open house for the friends of the Whig chief, and entertained all

the notabilities of the Whig party. Summer and winter, Sam dressed in

a clean nankeen jacket and breeches, and brightly polished shoes and

buckles; he wore no covering, neither hat nor wig, on a perfectly bald

head; his waistcoat was constantly open in all seasons, and he wore

remarkably white linen; his legs were generally bare, but when covered,

it was always in stockings of the finest silk.

In Rowlandson's spirited portrait old Sam is standing in his sturdy

fashion, clean, shaven, and bright, in his eccentric costume, with

his shining round poll, a pot with his cipher in one hand, and his

pipe in the other. In the rear is shown his public-house, with smokers

and customers indicated at the windows. This portrait, which seems to

have been deservedly popular, was published with variations. In one

impression (printed in sepia), is a barrel inscribed '_No Pope_,' and

in another, '_Fox for ever! Huzza!_' The second plate is crossed with

very fine stipple, and an old man is introduced in the background with

his hand on his bald head.

The prints are signed with the initials T. R. and J. J., and were

published by Thomas Rowlandson and J. Jones at 103 Wardour Street.

Under some impressions is the inscription, 'The first man who jumped

off Westminster Bridge.'

SAM HOUSE.

Not more the great Sam House, with horror, star'd,

By mob affronted to the very beard;

Whose impudence (enough to damn a jail)

Snatch'd from his waving hand his fox's tail,

And stuff'd it, 'midst his thunders of applause,

Full in the centre of Sam's gaping jaws;

That, forcing down his patriotic throat,

Of 'Fox and freedom!' stopp'd the glorious note.

_November 13, 1780._ _Naval Triumph, or Favours Conferred._--Admiral

Keppel is riding in triumph through the gates of Greenwich Hospital,

mounted on the shoulders of a veteran salt, on crutches, who has lost

both an eye and his legs in the service of his country. The Admiral,

with his riband and star, is condescending to give a helping hand to

another naval commander, who is dancing in merrily by his side.

The shake of the hand with such goodness and grace

Shows who is in favour, and who is in place.

At Greenwich the invalids poor will proclaim

What at present we do not think proper to name.

Poor disabled sailors are limping off on their crutches, disgusted

with the results of their sacrifices and the miserable rewards

for their services; while a drummer is drubbing in their favoured

and well-requited commanders. The composition of this subject is

particularly good, and it is worthy of remark that, in the coloured

impressions of this print, the tinting is arranged with considerable

success; and although, as is the general practice with caricatures,

none but the most vivid colours are employed, the arrangement is so

good and delicate that the general effect is as harmonious and artistic

as in the original drawings by Rowlandson's own hand.

[Illustration: THE POWER OF REFLECTION.]

_June 30, 1781._ _The Power of Reflection._ Published by J. Harris,

Sweeting's Alley, Cornhill.--This print is executed in mezzotint by

J. Jones, whose name appears several times in connection with that of

Rowlandson, on the series of plates which we shall particularise in the

progress of this work. The contrast is very marked between the Duenna,

the lines of whose face have fallen in under the assaults of time, and

the demoiselle, in all the pride of youth and attractiveness, aided

by the bravery of a fashionable and _piquante_ toilette. _The Power

of Reflection_ is probably intended to suggest a pictorial pun. While

the maiden is absorbed in the pleasing reflection of her own figure as

thrown back in the mirror, her senior, with a ponderous and probably

serious volume before her, is employing her thoughts on contemplations

of a more philosophical description.

_October 28, 1781._ _E O, or the Fashionable Vowels._--It may be

noticed, respecting the earlier works of Rowlandson, that his

efforts, soon after he left the Academy, were marked with more care

and elaboration than his later etchings; while the effects of his

training were still fresh in his mind, he evidently took more pains

in the direction of finish, and it is particularly in his management

of _chiaro-oscuro_ that we detect the superiority of the artistic

productions of his first period; although experience alone could give

him that special freedom and facility which render his best-known

productions remarkable.

In the early and clear impressions of the _E O Table_, and its

surroundings, the artist's skill is even more conspicuous than usual

in the spirited grouping; the attitudes and expressions of the several

gamblers are distinct with individuality and strongly-marked traits of

character. Every variety of emotion--cunning, credulity, confidence,

anxiety, stolid indifference, scheming, craft, stupidity, hectoring,

exaltation, and despair--we find pictured with an ability which

surprises us, contrasting as it does with the indifferent caricatures

and the dearth of humorous talent in the years which intervened between

the death of Hogarth and the appearance of the more ambitious subjects

by Gillray and Rowlandson, works executed while the talents of these

masters were at their best, and before they had grown careless of their

reputation.

The _E O Table_[22] was republished at various dates: in January 1786 it

re-appeared with a new title, as _Private Amusement_, and from time to

time it was reissued, the date of publication being altered to suit the

several occasions.

[Illustration: E O, OR THE FASHIONABLE VOWELS.]

_E O Tables._--'In the year 1781 there were swarms of E O Tables in

different parts of the town, where a poor man with a shilling only

might try his luck. They were open to everybody, till at last the Bow

Street police began to interfere.'

An attempt was made, at the commencement of 1731, to suppress some

of the most considerable gaming-houses in London and the suburbs,

particularly one, behind Gray's Inn Walks. The editor of the _St.

James's Evening Post_ observed upon this occasion: 'It may be matter

of instruction as well as amusement to present our readers with the

following list of officers which are established in the most notorious

gaming-houses:--

'A _Commissioner_, always a proprietor, who looks in of a night; the

week's account is audited by him and two others of the proprietors.

'A _Director_, who superintends the room.

'An _Operator_, who deals the cards at a cheating game called _Faro_.

'Two _Croupees_, who watch the cards and gather the money for the

bank.

'Two _Puffs_, who have money given them to decoy others to play.

'A _Clerk_, who is a check upon the _Puffs_, to see that they sink

none of the money given them to play with.

'A _Squib_ is a _Puff_ of a lower rank, who serves at half-salary

while he is learning to deal.

'A _Flasher_, to swear how often the bank has been stripped.

'A _Dunner_, who goes about to recover money lost at play.

'A _Waiter_, to fill out wine, snuff candles, and attend in the

gaming-room.

'An _Attorney_, a Newgate solicitor.

'A _Captain_, who is to fight any gentleman that is peevish for

losing his money.

'An _Usher_, who lights gentlemen up and down stairs, and gives the

word to the porter.

'A _Porter_, who is generally a soldier of the Foot Guards.

'An _Orderly-man_, who walks up and down the outside of the door,

to give notice to the porter and alarm the house at the approach of

constables.

'A _Runner_, who is to get intelligence of the Justices meeting.

'Link-boys, watchmen, chairmen, drawers, or others, who bring the

first intelligence of the Justices' meetings, or of the constables

being out--_half-a-guinea_ reward.

'Common-bail, affidavit-men, ruffians, bravoes, _cum multis aliis_.'

_November 27, 1781._ _Brothers of the Whip._ A. Grant, del.: published

by H. Humphrey.--In this engraving a good deal of Rowlandson's manner

is traceable, and the etching is at least due to his hand. The subject

represents a group of four _brothers of the whip_, whose persons and

features are marked with that discrimination for character and faculty

for grasping individual peculiarities distinctive of the caricaturist.

In the background are figured coach-horses, carriages, saddle-horses,

grooms, &c., all depicted in his own marked style.

[Illustration: CHARITY COVERETH A MULTITUDE OF SINS.]

_November 27, 1781._ _Charity Covereth a Multitude of Sins_, published

by H. Humphrey.--A dashing young officer is roving, in pursuit of

pleasure, in a dangerous vicinity. With a generous hand he is dropping

a gold-piece into the hat of a reduced sailor. Two Savoyards, a

man with an organ, and a girl with a hurdygurdy are soliciting the

contributions of the charitable.

_December 10, 1781._ _The State Watchman Discovered by the Genius of

Great Britain Studying Plans for the Reduction of America_, published

by J. Jones.--This subject is engraved within a circle, and, in point

of execution, it bears more resemblance to Rowlandson's later style; it

is not unlike Gillray's work of the same date.

The somnolent Lord North is fast asleep on his sofa, dreaming,

according to the caricaturist, of new theories for the recovery of

America.

The figure of _Britannia_, with her staff and cap of Liberty, is

well designed; she is crying, 'Am I thus protected?' A miniature

figure is introduced, who is endeavouring to arrest the sleeper's

attention--'Hallo, neighbour! what, are you asleep?' This officious

person is, it is believed, intended to represent

'_Sir Grey Parole_.'[23]

[Illustration: BOB DERRY, OF NEWMARKET.]

_No date._ _Bob Derry, of Newmarket._

[Illustration: LUXURY.]

_No date._ _Luxury._

FOOTNOTES:

[22] From Malcolm's _Manners and Customs of London during the

Eighteenth Century_ (1810). 'Mr. Carlton, Deputy Clerk of the Peace,

and Clerk to the Justices of Westminster, stated to a Committee of the

House of Commons, in 1782, that E O Tables were very numerous; that one

house in the parish of St. Anne, Soho, contained five, and that there

were more than three hundred in the above parish of St. James's: those

were used every day of the week, and servants enticed to them by cards

of direction thrown down the areas.'

[23] Lord North's Administration, which had the onus of conducting

the American War, was daily growing weaker and losing popularity;

it resigned in March of the year following, and the Rockingham

Ministry came into office. The first condition of this more liberal

Administration had obtained, through the negotiations of Lord

Shelburne, the consent of the King to 'peace with the Americans, and

the acknowledgment of their independence.' In a later caricature by

Gillray, which appeared on the resignation of Lord North--_Banco to

the Knave_, April 12, 1782--the figure of Sir Grey Cooper, one of the

Treasury Secretaries, is introduced, exclaiming, 'I want a new master.'

On this gentleman's chair is the name '_Sir Grey Parole_,' because,

it is understood, he usually sat on the left of Lord North on the

Treasury Bench; and when that statesman, who trusted to his memory for

the principal points elicited in the debates, had been overcome by the

constitutional somnolency which was a favourite subject of ridicule

with the satirists, the Secretary aroused his chief, and supplied the

deficiency of notes by suggesting the thread of argument, or _parole_,

as required.

1782-83.

_February 1783._ _Long Sermons and Long Stories are apt to lull the

Senses._ Published by W. Humphrey.

1783. _Amputation._ Republished by S. W. Fores, October 17, 1793.

[Illustration: AMPUTATION.]

1783 (?). _The Rhedarium, for the Sale of all sorts of Carriages,

by Gregory Gigg._--The auctioneer is in his pulpit, employed in

knocking down an assortment of vehicles to a small but sufficiently

eccentric-looking audience. A gouty individual, propped on crutches, is

making a bid for an antiquated kind of cabriolet, which the groom is

trotting up for inspection; around are curricles, travelling carriages,

and a general assemblage of the machines on wheels representative of

the past.

[Illustration: _The RHEDARIUM for the Sale of All sorts of Carriages By

GREGORY GIGG._]

1783. _The Discovery._--A small political print, a parody on

Shakespeare's 'Macbeth.' Lord North, who is the principal agent of the

'Witches' Incantation,' is crying:--

Call Fiends and Spectres from the yawning deep.

BURKE.

(_who is among the witches_).

Cast in your mite, each midnight hag;

Fill the Protector's poisoned Bag.

MOTHER WILSON.

Here's old Nick's nose.

JEFFERY.

Here's Devil's dung.

DUNSTAN.

The wind of Boreas,

Belial's tongue,

A Traitor's heart.

SAM HOUSE.

And Gibbets' blocks.

But hold, ye hags, for here comes Fox.

FOX

(_who has suddenly entered, and is standing in his ordinary

declamatory attitude_).

And set the ministers of Hell to work.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF A CLOCKMAKER'S SHOP.]

_December 22, 1783._ _Great Cry and Little Wool._ Published by

Humphrey, Strand.--Somewhat in Sayer's style, the principal figures

giving indications of his manner. The personification of Evil, with

his horns, hoofs, pointed claws, and forked tail, has a firm hold of

Fox, and is shearing the 'Protector's' chest and clawing at his profuse

locks. The India Bill, under the Evil One's arm, indicates the source

of the satire. The surroundings are more especially in Rowlandson's

free handling; the India House is in the background, and the members

of the East India Corporation are performing a gleeful dance around a

memorable pile--the funeral pyre in effigy of their arch-enemy, treated

as a fox roasting on a gibbet.

1783 (?). _The Times._--This caricature represents the situation,

from a popular point of view, at the period of the struggle for the

Regency which occurred on the first illness of the King. According to

Rowlandson's print, right is prevailing and everything is to be settled

for the future happiness of the kingdom by the Prince of Wales's

accession to the throne; as will be remembered, it was for a short

period doubtful whether the King's health would ever be sufficiently

restored to enable him to resume the control of the State.

The heir-apparent is shown as the virtuous prince we read of in fairy

tales, endowed with all the graces both of mind and person. The

Prince is supported, at the foot of the throne, by such protection as

_Liberty_ and _Justice_ are placing at his disposal; his foot is on

the first step, the _Voice of the People_; the other steps are _Public

Safety_, _Patriotism_, and _Virtue_; the crown remains suspended over

his head, his right hand is on his heart, and _Britannia_ is leading

him to his place, while she is waving back the party which opposed his

assumption of an _ad interim_ Regency. The symbolical _Ruler of the

Waves_ is declaring: 'I have long been deceived by hypocrisy, but have

at last discovered an intention of sacrificing the rights of my people

to satisfy a private ambition.' The Queen and her German friends,

Madame Schwellenberg and others, are represented as disconcerted

Furies, waving hissing snakes, and begirt with _Falsehood_, _Envy_, &c.

Queen Charlotte combined with Pitt to oppose, by every stratagem within

their power, the assumption of the Regency by her eldest son. The Queen

is brandishing the torch of _Rebellion_; Pitt is thrown into despair,

and he is 'bidding a long farewell to all his greatness,' before his

retirement from public life, as reasonably might have been his case,

if the Prince's party had come into power. _Commerce_, allegorically

represented as a fair female, is applauding the elevation of the

Prince to the vacant throne, and a deputation from the Corporation of

the City is expressing these encouraging sentiments through the Lord

Mayor:--'Whilst we mourn the occasion, we must feel ourselves happy in

reflecting that we are blessed by a prince whose wisdom will protect

our liberties, whose virtues will afford stability to our empire.'

1784.

POLITICAL CARICATURES.

A few examples of the caricatures published by Rowlandson during the

famous contested election for Westminster in 1784 were included by

the present writer in his account of the works of _James Gillray the

Caricaturist_, as certain prints issued on this occasion were doubtless

due to a combination on the part of the two caricaturists; however,

those plates which bear special indications of Rowlandson's style were

set down to their proper author.

_January 1, 1784._ _The Pit of Acheron, or the Birth of the Plagues

of England._--This plate bears the initials _F. N._, 1784, in the

right-hand corner, but there is no doubt, judging from the evidence

of the style of execution, that the chief merit is due to Rowlandson.

During the progress of the struggle, in 1784, plates innumerable were

published anonymously, or with varying initials. Collectors who have

devoted time and observation to the subject, and such well-qualified

writers as the compiler of _The History of Caricature and Grotesque in

Art, The Caricature History of the Georges, &c._, seem agreed upon the

proportion of prints which are due to the skill of our artist, whose

handiwork is very prominent amongst the series of electioneering and

political satires which appeared on the occasion of Fox's renowned

campaign at the Westminster hustings, when the _Champion of the People_

contended successfully against the second Ministerial candidate, Sir

Cecil Wray, although the latter received all the assistance which Pitt,

with the influence of the King as well, unscrupulously exercised as it

was, could bring into play, legitimately or otherwise, to defeat the

popular Whig chief, and to inflict the mortification of a lost election

upon 'the party' and on their leader, who was at that time the pet

aversion of George the Third and idol of the people.

It will be remembered that Rowlandson was by no means a party

satirist; unlike Sayer, who was notoriously in the Ministerial pay, he

lavished his satire on both sides alternately, utterly regardless of

partisanship, and, often at the expense of consistency, we find his

cartoons alternately espousing and ridiculing the same section, Whig or

Tory, Ministerialist or Opposition, in plates of whimsically opposite

tendencies, which not infrequently bear the same date.

_The Pit of Acheron_, if we may trust the satirist, is not situated

at any considerable distance from Westminster; the precincts of that

city appear through the smoke of the incantations which are carried

on in the Pit. Three weird sisters, like the Witches in 'Macbeth,'

are working the famous charm; a monstrous cauldron is supported by

death's-heads and harpies; the ingredients of the broth are various;

a crucifix, a rosary, _Deceit_, _Loans_, _Lotteries_, and _Pride_,

together with a fox's head, cards, dice, daggers, and an executioner's

axe, &c., form portions of the accessories employed in these uncanny

rites. Three heads are rising from the flames--the good-natured face

of Lord North, the spectacled and incisive outline of Burke, and Fox's

'gunpowder jowl,' which is drifting Westminster-wards. One hag, who is

dropping _Rebellion_ into the brew, is demanding, 'Well, sister, what

hast thou got for the ingredients of our charm'd pot?' To this her

fellow-witch, who is turning out certain mischievous ingredients which

she has collected in her bag, is responding, 'A beast from Scotland

called an Erskine, famous for duplicity, low art, and cunning; the

other a monster who'd spurn even at Charter's Rights.' Erskine is shot

out of the bag, crying, 'I am like a Proteus, can turn to any shape,

from a sailor to a lawyer, and always lean to the strongest side!' The

other member, whose tail is that of a serpent, is singing, 'Over the

water and over the lee, thro' hell I would follow my Charlie.'

_January 4, 1784._ _The Fall of Dagon, or Rare News for Leadenhall

Street._ Published by William Humphrey, 227 Strand.

And behold Dagon was fallen upon his face to the ground before

the ark of the Lord, and the head of Dagon and both the palms of

his hands were cut off upon the threshold.

The image of Dagon, which in this case is borrowed to typify the

Coalition Ministers, has fallen from the overset _Broad Bottom_

pedestal, and is in the posture described by the quotation; its

double-faced head wears the profiles of North and Fox. Tower Hill is

represented in the background; a scaffold is erected, and the public

executioner is just bringing down his axe on the neck of a traitor--a

delicate compliment to the heads of the late Administration. John Bull

has changed the sign of his house to _The Axe_, and he is composedly

enjoying his pipe under its shadow.

_January 7, 1784._ _The Loves of the Fox and the Badger, or the

Coalition Wedding._ Published by W. Humphrey, 227 Strand.--Nine small

compartments, very neatly executed upon one plate, are employed to

portray the unpopular Coalition Ministry between Fox and North. (1)

_The Fox beats the Badger in the Bear Garden._ The unwieldy form of

the Badger (Lord North) lies, apparently asleep, on the floor of 'the

House;' the Fox, with his brush erect in triumph, is in command of the

situation. (2) The _Fox_ has been throwing dice on Hounslow Heath,

and he has a _dream_; the vision seems to indicate a choice between

a prison or a traitor's head on a spike. (3) The _Badger_, with his

riband, tucked up comfortably on a sofa, also indulges in a _dream_;

the objects offered for his selection are seemingly the gallows or

an executioner's block. (4) _Satan unites them_; the arch-fiend,

in person, is joining their paws and pronouncing the magic spell,

'_Necessity_.' (5) _They quarter their arms._ Their new escutcheon is

symbolical; above a scroll marked '_Money_' the twin supporters are

holding up a well-filled Treasury-bag, borne by John Bull, above whose

head flourishes a pair of donkey's ears. (6) _The priest advertises

the wedding._ The Devil, presiding at the pay-table, is enlisting the

advocacy of the press, and three editors, in return for substantial

considerations, are respectively promising: 'I'll _Chronicle_ the

Coalition,' 'We will _Post_ them,' 'Harry will take both sides.' (7)

_The Honeymoon or Eddystone Lighthouse_; the pair are making up a

flaming beacon. (8) _The New Orator Henley, or the Churching._ The

happy pair are now in their glory, seated on a throne in the '_Bear

Garden_,' and surrounded at a respectful distance by the heads (stuck

on poles) of the members of their new Parliament, and described as

a '_Mopstick majority_.' The churching is proceeding; the original

pastor is still present, and is prompting Orator Henley, whose tub

stands on a block, labelled, '_Honest Jack Lee_;' the Orator is holding

forth a parchment, and declaring, 'A charter is nothing but a piece of

parchment with a great seal dangling to it;' to which pious deduction

his clerk mounted on 'A Seat for Portsmouth,' is crying, '_Necessity_.

_Amen._' (9) _The Wedding Dance and Song._ The pair, now led by the

nose by their Satanic friend, are perforce compelled to execute a

pretty lively dance, as their conductor wills. They are singing this

appropriate _epithalamium_:--

Come, we're all Rogues together;

The people must pay for the play:

Then let us make Hay in fine weather,

And keep the cold winter away!

It seemed, at the beginning of 1784, as if Fox were completely master

of the political situation, and indeed he approached much nearer to

an absolute control of the Administration than he was ever destined

to reach again during the lifetime of his great opponent. The bold

manoeuvres of Pitt, backed by the royal favour--the King and his

friends condescending to dissimulation and subterfuge where honest

policy would not suffice their turn--were crowned with unexpected

success, and the Cromwell of the hour fell suddenly from his

influential eminence. Up to the famous Westminster Election, Fox was

paramount, both in Parliament and out of doors; for although Pitt was

actually Crown-Minister, both he and his party were almost powerless

when arrayed against the members of the ex-Coalition Ministry, their

opponents, led by Fox, and his strong following, who were the real

masters of the situation; thus we find a very characteristic portrait

of the _Friend of Liberty and of the People_ introduced, with an

allusion to Cromwell.

_January 19, 1784._ _His Highness the Protector._--The supplies are

kept with a tight hand; and Fox, taking advantage of his power, has put

a huge padlock on the door of the Treasury, the key of which he seems

determined to retain in his own keeping; a small dagger, held in the

popular champion's right hand, indicates that he is prepared to stand

on the defensive. His colleague Lord North, with his star round his

neck, appears as a bulldog, who is supporting his leader in keeping the

supplies inviolate.

The apprehensions of the Pittites (whose chances of retaining the reins

of administration in defiance of an Opposition too strong for their

policy, now seemed desperate), pictured forth the total subversion of

Throne and State; and it was under this influence that the King--whose

stubborn will was strengthened by contradiction--indulged his threat

of retiring to his German possessions, if he could not secure the

return to office of his particular friends, whose hopes of recovering

their lost control of the State were somewhat forlorn previous to the

election; while Fox, on the other hand, was endeavouring to force the

King to accede to the measures he had introduced for the restriction of

the royal prerogative. A very complete, but necessarily over-coloured,

view of the anticipations of 'the party' is thus pictured forth by

Rowlandson.

_January 23, 1784._ _The Times, or a View of the Old House in Little

Britain,--with Nobody going to Hanover._ Published by W. Humphrey, 227

Strand.--The Old House is seemingly in a bad way; the foundation is

_Public Credit_; the Funds, represented as a grilled gate, are secured

with a huge padlock; the Royal Crown and Sceptre are placed on a block,

and marked _for sale_; seated on another block, labelled _Protector_,

sits the fox, guarding the Treasury; round his waist is a chain secured

to the _Coalition-pillar_, which is depicted as rather a twisted

support. Lord North has perched his unwieldy person upon a turnstile,

and is crying, indifferent to consequences, 'Give me my ease, and do

as you please.' The upper part of the _Old House_ is raising more

cause for mistrust, since the old building is overweighted and crushed

with a mass of _Taxes_, piled on the roof, the accumulated pressure

of 'the accursed ten years' American war, fomented by the Opposition

and misconducted by a timid Minister.' A light balcony has been thrown

out, and therein things are proceeding in true showman style. Burke

is officiating as exhibitor, and blowing through a trumpet; another

statesman is doing the harlequin-business; merry-andrew 'Sherry' is

flourishing his bottle and dancing round the corner of the balcony, on

which is a placard announcing a wonderful combination of attractions:

'The Scarlet Woman of Babylon, the Devil, and the Pope.' 'The Man of

the People' is pictured as a feather,--on the flag of the party. The

sign of the _Old House, Magna Charta_, has fallen to tatters, and the

board is dropping down; two lawyers, who appear at the window, are

repairing the edifice according to their theories; one of the props of

the edifice, _the Lords_, is spared, but the other, _prerogative of

the Crown_, is being lopped off by one of the legal magnates. The King

is turning his back on the place, and starting in a state coach on his

way to Hanover, deaf and blind to the prayers of some of his subjects,

who are imploring the royal compassion on their knees. _The Sun of

England's Glory_ is setting in the distance, and an eye of light,

piercing through the clouds, is warning the retiring monarch to 'Turn

out these robbers and repair the House.'

_February 3._ _The Infant Hercules._--Another caricature was directed

against the ex-Coalition Ministers, representing them as twin serpents

whose tails ('American War' and 'East India Bill') are entwined; the

heads of Fox and North appear on the shoulders of the monster. Pitt is

figured as the infant Hercules; he has taken his seat on the 'Shield

of Chatham,' and has grasped the throats of the serpents, the tails of

which are already lopped off. 'These,' he cries, 'were your Ministers.'

Lord North, for twelve years, with his war and contracts,

The people he nearly had laid on their backs;

Yet stoutly he swore he sure was a villain

If e'er he had bettered his fortune a shilling.

Derry down, down; down, derry down.

Against him Charles Fox was a sure bitter foe,

And cried that the empire he'd soon overthrow;

Before him all honour and conscience had fled;

And vowed that the axe it should cut off his head.

Derry down, down; down, derry down.

Edmund Burke, too, was in a mighty great rage,

And declared Lord North the disgrace of the age;

His plans and his conduct he treated with scorn,

And thought it a curse that he'd ever been born.

Derry down, down; down, derry down.

So hated he was, Fox and Burke they both swore,

They infamous were if they enter'd his door;

But, prithee, good neighbour, now think on the end--

Both Burke and Fox call him their very good friend!

Derry down, down; down, derry down.

Now Fox, North, and Burke, each one is a brother,

So honest, they swear there is not such another;

No longer they tell us we're going to ruin,

The people they _serve_ in whatever they're doing.

Derry down, down; down, derry down.

But Chatham, thank heaven! has left us a son;

When _he_ takes the helm, we are sure not undone;

The glory his father revived of the land,

And Britannia has taken Bill Pitt by the hand.

Derry down, down; down, derry down.

[Illustration: BRITANNIA ROUSED, OR THE COALITION MONSTERS DESTROYED.]

_February 3, 1784._ _Britannia Roused, or the Coalition Monsters

Destroyed._--Britannia, the symbolical goddess, is fairly aroused, and

her greatness and power are effectually asserted on the persons of the

late Ministers. Her strong arm is throttling the lethargic Lord North,

and she has seized the body of Fox, whose person she is dashing over

her head, in a manner which threatens the extinction of the popular

idol.

The East India Company and its Corporation became, for a time, the

chief bone of contention. Fox had gone out of office on the rejection

of his provisions for the proper regulation of our Eastern Empire,[24]

and Pitt, on coming into power, introduced his own motion with the

same object. The view of the public on this point was expressed by

Rowlandson's satirical summary of the situation.

_February 7, 1784._ _Billy Lackbeard and Charley Blackbeard Playing at

Football._--Fox and Pitt are both kicking with a will; the football is

the old House of John Company, Leadenhall Street; the edifice is turned

upside down, and the rival players are succeeding in keeping the vast

concern suspended in the air between them. _Billy Lackbeard_ has just

turned from the study of Blackstone,--an allusion to the youth of the

Prime Minister. It is interesting to remember that Pitt had resigned

his ambitious mind seriously to the study and practice of the law,

in case the progress of events should deprive him of Parliamentary

significance. The commencement of his career was somewhat troublous,

especially during the 'Regency struggle,' when the state of the King's

health rendered the accession of the Prince of Wales probable, in which

case the governing power would have remained in the hands of his more

experienced rival. Behind Fox is a dicebox, and at his feet lie packs

of playing-cards, indicating that gambling was the only resource left

him, if he could not succeed in regaining office.

The influence which was being brought to bear, through illegitimate

channels, to strengthen the party of Pitt's followers, who found

themselves in such a minority as to be powerless at first, was

recognised and commented on out of doors. The satirists freely exposed

the Ministerial manoeuvres; it was evident that the Court party, and

especially the King, would count no sacrifice too great, could they but

contrive to prevent the return of the members of the late Coalition

Ministry to power, this hostility being intensified by the prejudices

borne in the royal mind against Fox.

So strongly did this influence work that we find in _The Morning Post

and Daily Advertiser_ for February 10, 1784, the names of twenty-two

members who had fallen under the spell of Ministerial beguilements.

The advertisement is quite simple, and appears without either comment

or explanation; the heading is pictorial, and represents a string of

rats--such as might preface an ordinary rat-catcher's advertisement--it

is placed above the name of Jack Robinson, in capital letters.

Then follow, in three short columns, the names of the twenty-two

Parliamentary rats who had gone over to the good pickings which

the King was able to hold forth as a temptation in return for the

allegiance of these renegades.

This curious advertisement is repeated in a satirical print which

Rowlandson prepared on the same subject.

[Illustration: THE APOSTATE JACK ROBINSON, THE POLITICAL RAT-CATCHER.]

_March 1, 1784._ _The Apostate Jack Robinson, the Political

Rat-catcher. N.B. Rats taken alive._--Before the door of the Treasury,

from whence the converter of rats draws his supply of baits and lures,

travelling cautiously on all fours and feeling his way, the political

rat-catcher is slily augmenting his captures. Round the apostate Jack's

waist hangs the _cestus of corruption_, in his pocket is a little

aide-de-camp, who is made to cry, 'We'll ferret them out!' On his back

is a double trap, baited with miniature coronets, places, &c.; one or

two rats have been secured in this; golden pieces strew the floor, and

with these the rats to be captured are playing and coquetting. A large

bait of pension is held to the nose of one grave old veteran, probably

intended for Edmund Burke, and the other rats are watching the bait

with longing looks. A placard is pinned on the wall, 'Jack Robinson,

Rat-catcher to Great Britain. Vermin preserved.' Under the heading of

'Rats of Note' is given the very list of apostates as published in the

_Morning Post_, beneath Jack Robinson's patronymic.

_Second Title._

Thus when Renegado sees a Rat

In the traps in the morning taken,

With pleasure he goes Master Pitt to pat,

And swears he will have his bacon.

_March 3, 1784._ _A Peep into Friar Bacon's Study._--A spectacle of

conjuration, which discloses matters of some historical moment. In the

centre of the picture stands the brazen head which is giving forth its

oracles. King George the Third, who has thrown a conjuror's cloak over

his star and riband, is holding out two divining-rods, and questioning

the head--'What is this?' To this the magic bust is giving forth these

oracle-like phrases: 'Time is, Time was, Time is past;' while three

luminous circles, each bordered with the word _Constitution_, help

to illuminate the obscurity of the revelation. The first view of the

Constitution, 'Time is past,' displays the King on his throne, with

a radiance like the sun; the other bodies of the State barely come

within the charmed circle; the Houses of Lords and Commons appear mere

'air balloons.' 'Time is' offers another view of the Constitution;

the King's circle has diminished, that of the House of Peers is

increasing in magnitude and becoming bound up with the royal circle;

the House of Commons, without infringing on either, has arrived within

the circumference of the Constitution; and in the third view we find

the three circles assimilated in size and working one within the

other--the Constitution in its perfected form, in fact. Behind the

King the members of the late Ministry are appearing at a door. Fox,

North, and Burke are in the front rank; they bid the monarch 'Beware!'

The King's friends, led by an imp of Satan, or, perhaps, by the Devil

in person, are finding their way down the back-stairs. Foremost is a

figure bearing a lantern, which is throwing a light on the movements of

the Opposition. Lord Temple, and other influential supporters of the

Ministry, are making their entry on the scene, and crying, 'We must

destroy this coalition,' 'A fig for the resolutions,' &c.

_March 8, 1784._ _Master Billy's Procession to Grocers' Hall._--Pitt

has, according to the picture, supplemented his Parliamentary tactics

by flattering the citizens, and bidding for the Corporation influence.

He is drawn going to _Grocers' Hall_ in state to receive the freedom of

the City in a gold box, which is carried at the head of the procession.

Great enthusiasm prevails, as a liberal gentleman, in the uniform of

a naval officer, is distributing handfuls of coin amongst the mob.

Banners are carried in the procession with the party watchwords,

'_Pitt and prerogative_,' and '_Youth is a most enormous crime_.' The

car of Sir Watney, drawn by satyrs comes first; then, in the middle,

perched up in a triumphal car, and with a feather in his hat, comes

Master Billy, drawn, of course, by _King's men_. Sir Barney follows,

drawn by his admirers, and shouting, 'Pitt and plum-pudding for

ever!' The show is passing the shop of 'Tommy Plume, grocer to his

Majesty;' this worthy, who is crying, 'O what a charming youth!' is

seen at his window, surrounded by shouting spectators. At the sign of

the _Lord Chatham_ is gathered another party of sightseers; they are

enthusiastically declaring that 'Master Pitt is very like his father!'

[Illustration: MASTER BILLY'S PROCESSION TO GROCERS' HALL.]

_March 11, 1784._ _The Champion of the People._--The sturdy figure of

Fox, clad in somewhat theatrical armour, and protected by the _Shield

of Truth_, is resolutely combating the overgrown _Hydra_ of patronage,

whose growing and unconstitutional power--it was hinted--would

shortly destroy the liberty of the subject. The monster, a compound

of the Pittite party and its royal supporter, is hissing and spitting

venom with all its various heads, _Tyranny_, _Assumed Prerogative_,

_Despotism_, _Oppression_, _Secret Influence_, and _Scotch Politics_;

while three heads have been already lopped off by the champion's

sword, _Duplicity_ and _Corruption_ are laid in the dust. The foreign

Powers are represented in alliance, and dancing round the _Standard

of Sedition_. Natives, of the subject East Indian races, are kneeling

and blessing their champion; and a compact array of _English and Irish

supporters_ is drawn up under the standard of '_Britannia and Universal

Liberty_.' Fox's followers are respectively declaring, 'While he

protects us, we will support him;' and 'He gave us a free trade, and

all we asked; he shall have our firm support!'

_March 26, 1784._ _The State Auction._--This print illustrates the

pass to which, as it was assumed, the Constitution was coming under

the evil effects of the undue extension of the royal prerogative. The

'State Auction' is held, under high patronage, in the '_Commission

warehouse; money advanced on all sorts of useless valuables, by Pitt

and Co., Auctioneers. N.B. Licensed by Royal Authority._' Pitt,

seated on his rostrum, under the royal arms, is knocking down 'State

property' in the capacity of auctioneer. The first lot is, it seems,

the most interesting one in the sale: 'The Rights of the People, in

558 volumes.' Pitt's friend Dundas is acting as sale porter. 'Show the

lot this way, Harry,' cries the auctioneer. 'Agoing, agoing; speak

quick, or it's gone. Hold up the lot, ye Dund ass!' To which invitation

the Scot, Dundas, who has been doing his best to help Master Pitt,

responds, 'I can hould it na higher, sir!' Pitt is favouring the

biddings of the 'Hereditary Virtuosi,' a compact knot of Peers and

'the King's friends;' at their head stands Lord Chancellor Thurlow,

who is disparaging the Opposition. 'Mind not the nonsensical biddings

of those common fellows.' The 'chosen representatives' of the people

are standing by themselves, apart from the bidders; their backs are

turned upon the entire proceedings, and they are apparently leaving the

sale-room _en masse_, by way of protest, at the same time exclaiming,

'Adieu to Liberty!' 'Despair not!' and 'Now or never!' Fox alone is

making a resolute stand; he cries, 'I am determined to bid with spirit

for lot 1--he shall pay dear for it that outbids me.' The lots are of

general interest. Lot 2 is _Magna Charta_; lot 3 is '_Obsolete Public

Acts_;' lot 4, the Sword of Justice; lot 5, the Mace; lots 6 and 7,

legal wigs and gowns, &c. The sale-clerk, recording the biddings on the

parchments of 'sundry Acts,' is declaring gleefully, 'We shall get the

supplies by this sale!'

_March 29, 1784._ _The Drum-Major of Sedition._--The portrait of

Major John Cartright, one of the most energetic and disinterested

Reformers, is given under this title. The Major is firmly grasping

a pole of Liberty in his right hand, and is holding forth in front

of the hustings erected for the election, round which are gathered

numerous voters and a crowd of others, who are being addressed from

the platform. Admiral Lord Hood is introduced, shouting, 'Two faces

under a Hood!' The speech made by the Drum-Major of Sedition has

a strong ironical tendency. 'All gentlemen and other electors for

Westminster who are ready and willing to surrender their rights and

those of their fellow-citizens to secret influence, and the _Lords

of the Bedchamber_, let them repair to the prerogative standard,

lately erected at the Cannon Coffee House, where they shall be kindly

received--until their services are no longer wanted. This, gentlemen,

is the last time of asking, as we are determined to abolish the power

of the House of Commons, and in future be governed by Prerogative, as

they are in France and Turkey. Gentlemen, the ambition of the enemy is

now evident. Has he not, within these few days past, stole the Great

Seal of England, while the Chancellor[25] was taking a bottle with a

female favourite, as all great men do? I am informed, gentlemen, that

the enemy now assumes Regal Authority, and, by virtue of the Great Seal

(which he stole), is creating of peers and granting of pensions. A most

shameful abuse, gentlemen, of that instrument. If you assist us to pull

down the House of Commons, every person who hears me has a chance of

becoming a great man, if he is happy enough to hit the fancy of Lord

Bute and of Mr. Jenkinson. Huzza! God save the King!'

_March 30, 1784._ _Sir Cecil's Budget for Paying the National

Debt._--Sir Cecil Wray, in spite of his Ministerial friends, does not

seem to have been a popular candidate after he had deserted the Liberal

party; indeed, he became the mere puppet of the hour, the Ministerial

struggles of the '_King's friends_' being not so much directed to

bringing in their nominee, as to inflict the mortification of a defeat

on Fox. Two unfortunate projects, which Sir Cecil Wray had originated,

were perpetually used against him by his opponents; these were his

proposals to abolish Chelsea Hospital and to tax maid-servants. In the

print '_Sir Cecil's Budget for paying the National Debt_' has been

accepted, and Chelsea Hospital is brought to the ground, involving in

its destruction all the disabled veterans for whom the country was

bound to provide. Sir Cecil is shown in the distance, exposed to very

humiliating treatment; a pensioner, who has escaped the downfall of the

Hospital, is whipping him forward with his crutch, while a group of

female servants, with pails and brooms, are visiting on his person, the

injustices they anticipated. 'Tax servant-maids, you brute, and starve

poor old soldiers--a fine Member of Parliament!' While in office Fox

had proposed a tax upon receipts, which was loudly cried down by his

Tory opponents; it was now written of Wray:--

For though he opposes the stamping of notes,

'Tis in order to tax all your petticoats;

Then how can _a woman_ solicit your votes

For Sir Cecil Wray?

For had he to women been ever a friend,

Nor by taxing _them_ tried our old taxes to mend,

Yet so _stingy_ he is, that none can contend

For Sir Cecil Wray.

The gallant Lord Hood to his country is dear;

His voters, like Charlie's, make excellent cheer;

But who has been able to taste _the small beer_

Of Sir Cecil Wray?

Then come, ev'ry free, ev'ry generous soul,

That loves a fine girl and a full flowing bowl,

Come here in a body, and all of you poll

'Gainst Sir Cecil Wray!

In vain all the arts of the Court are let loose,

The electors of Westminster never will choose

To run down a Fox, and set up a _goose_

Like Sir Cecil Wray.

[Illustration: THE HANOVERIAN HORSE AND BRITISH LION.]

_March 31, 1784._ _The Hanoverian Horse and the British Lion. A

scene in a new play, lately acted in Westminster with distinguished

applause._ Act ii., scene last.--The faithful Commons are still

suffering from the aggressive tendencies of the White Horse of Hanover,

which is trampling on '_Magna Charta_,' '_Bill of Rights_', and

'_Constitution_,' kicking, rearing, and driving the members of the

'faithful Commons' forth with his heels. The brute is neighing out

'_Pre-ro-ro-ro-ro-rogative_;' while Pitt, a remarkably light jockey, is

encouraging the excitement of the brute: 'Bravo! go it again; I love to

ride a mettle steed. Send the vagabonds packing.' The sturdy person of

Fox is safely astride the British Lion; the royal beast has quitted his

place in the army of England, leaving the notice, '_We shall resume our

situation here at pleasure.--Leo Rex._' He is keeping a watchful eye on

the Hanoverian Horse, and protesting, 'If this horse is not tamed he

will soon be absolute king of our forest.' Fox has come on the scene

prepared to render efficient assistance; he is provided with a bit and

bridle, and a stout riding-whip, to tame and control the high-mettled

Hanoverian steed. 'Prithee, Billy,' he is crying to Pitt, 'dismount

before ye get a fall--and let some abler jockey take your seat!'

_April 3, 1784._ _The Two Patriotic Duchesses on their Canvass;

requesting the favour of an early poll._--The zealous canvassers for

'the Champion of the people' are enlisting the sympathies of possible

voters. Their mode of procedure is shown at a butcher's stall,

according to the satirist's view of their patriotic exertions. The

Duchess of Devonshire, wearing the Prince of Wales's plume in her hat,

above an immense favour _for Fox_, has placed one arm round the waist

of a young butcher, and, with her left hand, is pushing a well-filled

purse into his pocket; at the same time she is cementing the compact

with a chaste kiss. Farther on is seen the Duchess of Portland, who is

attempting to beguile another butcher's apprentice; but she is less

successful, probably because her personal attractions will not bear

comparison with the graces of the winning Georgiana.

_April 4, 1784._ _The Incurable._--Fox, in a strait-jacket, with straw

disposed in his hair, is represented as mad beyond recovery; he is

singing in forlorn despair:--

My lodging is on the cold ground, and very hard is my case,

But that which grieves me most is the losing of my place.

Doctor Munro, the King's physician, in his court-dress, is examining

the patient through his eyeglass, and attesting, 'As I have not

the least hope of his recovery, let him be removed amongst the

_Incurables_.' Below the print the following lines occur:--

Dazzled with hope he could not see the cheat

Of aiming with impatience to be great.

With wild ambition in his heart, we find,

Farewell content and quiet of his mind;

For glittering clouds he left the solid shore,

And wonted happiness returns no more.

The poll was opened on April 1, and continued without intermission

until May 17.

_April 8, 1784._ _The Rival Candidates._--The three candidates who were

contesting the 'great fight' for the representation of Westminster

are represented according to their supposititious characteristics.

Fox, with his hand on his heart, and his arm held out in a

declamatory attitude, stands for _Demosthenes_; Hood is introduced

as _Themistocles_; and Wray is less flatteringly served up in the

character of _Judas Iscariot_. It must be remembered that '_the Knight

of the Back-stairs_' had been nominated for the previous Parliament

by Fox, with whom he had shared the representation of Westminster,

but Wray thought fit to desert to the Tories and oppose his political

leader, forsaking his friends and his principles for the sake of

promised Ministerial patronage.

[Illustration: RIVAL CANDIDATES.]

_April 10, 1784._ _The Parody, or Mother Cole and Loader._ (See

Foote's 'Minor,' page 29.)--The broad-spread figure of Lord North,

with a capacious hood round his head, is parodied as the sanctimonious

_Mother Cole_; a bottle of 'Constitution Cordial,' to sustain her

sinking spirits, is placed by her side. Fox, as _Loader_, with his

dicebox thrown to the ground, is listening, handkerchief in hand, to

_Old Moll's_ lamentations. 'Ay, I am going, a-wasting, and a-wasting.

What will become of the House when I am gone Heaven knows. No, when

people are missed, then they are mourned. Sixteen years have I lived

in St. Stephen's Chapel comfortably and creditably; and, tho' I say

it, could have got bail any hour of the day! No knock-me-down doings

in my House--a set of regular, sedate, sober customers--no rioters.

Sixteen did I say? Ay, eighteen years have I paid _Scot_ and _Lot_,

and during the whole time nobody has said, "Mrs. North, why do you say

so?"--unless twice that I was threatened with impeachment, and three

times with a halter!' Fox is moved to respond, 'May I lose deal, with

an honour at bottom, if Old Moll does not bring tears in my eyes.'

_April 12, 1784._ _The Devonshire, or most approved method of securing

votes._--The Duchess of Devonshire has taken to her arms the person

of a fat and greasy butcher, whom she is favouring with a salute in

the zeal of patriotism; another fair canvasser (possibly the Duchess

of Gordon), rejoicing in proportions more expanded than those of the

beautiful Georgiana, is seconding the proceeding; while, shouting

'Huzza, Fox for ever!' a lusty butcher, with his tray under his arm, is

cheering and hurrying up to share his possible reward.

[Illustration: THE DEVONSHIRE, OR MOST APPROVED MANNER OF SECURING

VOTES.]

_April 12, 1784._ _The Westminster Watchman._--Charles James Fox is

represented as the trusty guardian, standing unmoved and at his ease

amidst the 'Ministerial thunderbolts;' he wears on his head the _cap

of Liberty_, and his support is the _staff of 'uprightness_;' his

dog, the faithful companion of his rounds, is _Vigilance_; and his

lamp, which sheds its light on everything around, is _Truth_. A pair

of superannuated and useless watchmen are shuffling off--Hood 'for

Greenwich,' and Wray 'for Chelsea.'

The plate is inscribed to Fox's supporters--'To the independent

Electors of Westminster this print of their staunch old watchman, the

guardian of their rights and privileges, is dedicated by a grateful

Elector. N.B. _Beware of counterfeits, as the Greenwich and Chelsea

Watchmen are upon the look-out!_'

_April 12, 1784._ _The Poll._--The scene is still the polling-booth,

Covent Garden; the canvassers, committees, and mobs are giving their

entire attention to the performance carried on for their entertainment

between the fair rival advocates, who are balanced at either end of a

plank laid across a stone post. The Duchess of Devonshire is sent up

into the air; her end of the poll is carried over Fox's head; '_Duke

and no Duke, a play_,' is placarded above her.

[Illustration: THE WESTMINSTER WATCHMAN.]

The opposite extreme of _the poll_ is weighed down effectually by the

weight of a corpulent lady, described in these election squibs as

_Madame Blubber_, the Honourable Mrs. Hobart (Lady Buckinghamshire),

of _Pic-Nic_ notoriety. Hood is cheating by kneeling down and clinging

to the skirts of the Ministerial championess, he lends an additional

weight to his side of the balance; behind them is Wray, defying his

opponent. Over the heads of this group flutters a placard, '_The Rival

Candidates, a farce_.'

The Opposition party dwelt mainly upon Sir Cecil Wray's renegade want

of principle in turning against his leader, Fox. His liberality was

severely called in question, and there was a satirical story of his

keeping nothing in his cellar but small beer. The old symbolism of

slavery and France--wooden shoes--was revived for the occasion; much

stress was laid on the extensive polling of soldiers for Hood and Wray

at the beginning of the election, when on one occasion two hundred

and eighty of the Guards were sent in a body to give their votes as

householders. This, Horace Walpole observes, _was_ legal, 'but which

my father (Sir Robert) in the most quiet sessions would not have dared

to do.' All dependents on the Court were commanded to vote on the same

side as the soldiers. The following placard, which was put out early

in the canvass, is a fair example of the courtesies with which the

Ministerial manoeuvres were acknowledged by their opponents:--

'All _Horse Guards_, _Grenadier Guards_, _Foot Guards_, and _Black

Guards_ that have not polled for the destruction of _Chelsea Hospital_

and the _tax on maid-servants_ are desired to meet at the _Gutter

Hole_, opposite the Horse Guards, where they will have a full bumper of

_knock-me-down_ and plenty of _soapsuds_, before they go to the poll

for Sir Cecil Wray or eat.

'N.B. Those that have no shoes or stockings may come without, there

_being a quantity of wooden shoes provided for them_.'

[Illustration: LORDS OF THE BEDCHAMBER.]

_April 14, 1784._ _Lords of the Bedchamber._--The Duchess of

Devonshire, in her morning gown and cap, is favouring two privileged

visitors with a cup of tea in her boudoir.

The Duchess is attending to the tea urn; above her head hangs the

Reynolds portrait of her liege lord. Sam House, in his publican's

jacket, is seated, stirring a cup of tea, on the sofa beside Fox, who

is familiarly patting his friend and indefatigable ally on his bald

head by way of friendly encouragement.

Sam House was one of the most popular figures of his day, and he came

into especial prominence, as we have seen, during the Fox's canvass. He

is said to have kept open house during the Westminster Election at his

own expense, and was honoured by entertaining the great Whig nobility.

He was an indefatigable supporter of Fox, and his assistance was, as

may be supposed, of no trifling moment to the cause.

See brave Sammy House, he's as still as a mouse,

And does canvass with prudence so clever;

See what shoals with him flocks to poll for brave Fox;

Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever, for ever, for ever!

Give thanks to Sam House, boys, for ever!

Brave bald-headed Sam, all must own, is the man

Who does canvass for brave Fox so clever;

His aversion, I say, is to _small beer and Wray_!

May his bald head be honour'd for ever, for ever, for ever!

May his bald head be honour'd for ever!

_April 20, 1784._ _The Covent Garden Nightmare._--This subject is a

parody on a painting by Fuseli. Rowlandson has taken the idea and

fitted it to the purpose of an electioneering squib. Fox is represented

stretched in an uneasy slumber, nightmare-ridden. An unearthly

incubus oppresses his body and haunts his repose; a corpulent imp is

crouched on his hams pressing the great man's chest, while the head

and shoulders of a supernatural mare are shown making their appearance

through the bed-curtains. On a table by Fox's side are shown the dice

and dicebox, the satirist's inevitable resource when dealing with the

frailties of the 'man of the people,' who, it must be confessed, had in

his day committed sufficient excesses in the way of gambling; a vice

he absolutely renounced in after-life, but not before it had ruined

his purse, imperilled his reputation, and proved a fruitful source of

recrimination in the mouths of his enemies.

_April 22, 1784._ _Madame Blubber on her Canvass._--We find the Duchess

of Devonshire and the Honourable Mrs. Hobart--the most prominent of

the fair electioneering agents who threw the power of their personal

charms into the political arena--scandalised alternately; her Grace

the fascinating Georgiana was represented as a softening influence

by which the votes of the butchers were secured; we find Pitt's fair

champion, _Madame Blubber_ (Lady Buckinghamshire), endeavouring to

cajole the same classes in identical fashion. The lady, who, it must

be acknowledged, was somewhat stout, is trying her hand amongst the

rough sellers of meat; she is holding out a purse as a bait, saying,

'Hood and Wray, my dear butcher;' the butcher's dogs are regarding the

canvasser suspiciously; their master, at ease in his armchair, without

moving his pipe from his mouth, is puffing out bluntly, 'I'm engaged

to the Duchess!' 'Pho! give her a glass,' suggests the butcher's

friend, who is drinking punch with him from a bowl on which is the

figure of a fox, the chopping-block serving as their table. _Madame

Blubber_ has a train of appreciative butcher's men in her wake; one is

declaring that she is 'the fattest cattle he ever handled!' a drover is

observing, 'Lincolnshire, dammee!' and a lad with a tray pronounces her

a 'plumper!'

THE COURT CANVASS OF MADAME BLUBBER.

_To the Tune of 'The First Time at the Looking-glass.'_

A certain lady I won't name

Must take an active part, sir,

To show that DEVON'S beauteous dame

Should not engage each heart, sir.

She canvass'd all, both great and small,

And thunder'd at each door, sir;

She rummaged every shop and stall--

The Duchess was still before her.

Sam Marrowbones had shut up shop,

And just had lit his pipe, sir,

When in the lady needs must pop,

Exceeding plump and ripe, sir.

'Good zounds,' says he, 'how late you be!

For votes you come to bore me;

But let us feel are you beef or veal--

The Duchess has been before you.'

A fishmonger she next address'd

With many a soothing tale, sir,

And for his vote most warmly press'd,

But all would not prevail, sir.

'The finest cod's-head sure in town,

Of oysters send two score too.'

'Extremely, madame, like your own--

The Duchess has been before you.'

A grocer next, to make amends,

The dame with smiles accosted:

'You grocers all to PITT are friends,'

Of her connection boasted!

'For plums and raisins, ma'am,' said he,

'I'm willing for to score you:

In politics we shan't agree--

The Duchess was here before you.'

Sly Obadiah was at prayers

With many pious folk, sir;

His pretty maid on the _back-stairs_

She found, and thus bespoke her:

'This riband take, all interest make;

Your master will adore you,

For Hood and Wray pray kiss and pray.'

'Now, Duchess, I'm once before you.'

A stable-keeper to engage

She then her talents tried, sir;

He fell into a monstrous rage,

And all her smiles defied, sir.

'Are you a full moon or Court balloon?

Get out, you female Tory;

Tho' Courts prevail I'll not turn tail--

The Duchess was here before you.'

However courtiers take offence,

And cits and prudes may join, sir,

Beauty will ever influence

The free and generous mind, sir.

Fair DEVON, like the rising sun,

Proceeds in her full glory,

Whilst madame's duller orb must own

The Duchess moves before her.

_April 22, 1784._ _Wit's Last Stake, or the Cobbling Voter and Abject

Canvassers._--Every stratagem which could secure the popular voice for

either candidate was freely put in practice; but while the Pittites

resorted to threats and force, Fox and his adherents relied mainly on

persuasion and good humour. _Wit's last Stake_ shows the exertions made

in the canvassing department. Fox is in the centre of the picture,

giving his knee as a seat for his fair advocate, the Duchess of

Devonshire, who is resorting to a subterfuge commonly employed as a

precaution against actions for bribery at elections, by the stall of

a cobbler, who happens to be a voter: her Grace has discovered that

her shoe requires a stitch; the cobbler, with his tongue thrust out

at the side of his mouth, is working at the supposititious repairs

with pantomimic energy; meanwhile his wife is receiving in payment

for the job a handful of sovereigns from her Grace's purse. The scene

takes place in Peter Street, and the cobbler's board announces,

'_Shoes made and mended by Bob Stichett, cobbler to her Grace the

tramping Duchess_.' A fox's brush is being waved overhead out of the

first-floor window by a supporter, who has been provided with pipe

and pot at the Whig expense. Fox is giving his right hand to another

voter, a tattered and stupified-looking scavenger, to whom Sam House

is also administering comfort in the shape of a pot of porter. Among

other followers of the 'Man of the People' Rowlandson has introduced a

chimney-sweeper and his boy.

[Illustration: WIT'S LAST STAKE, OR THE COBBLING VOTER AND ABJECT

CANVASSERS.]

Fox's canvass was enlivened by the rough humours of the various classes

whose favour he required to enlist; his own good-nature was equal to

every emergency. One blunt tradesman, whose vote he solicited, replied,

'Mr. Fox, I cannot give you my support; I admire your abilities, but

d---- your principles!' To which the candidate smartly responded, 'My

friend, I applaud you for your sincerity, but d---- your manners!'

In another instance Fox's application to a saddler in the Haymarket

for his interest was met with a practical joke--the man produced

a _halter_, with which he expressed his willingness to oblige the

statesman. Said Fox, 'I return you thanks, my friend, for your intended

present; but I should be sorry to deprive you of it, as I presume it

must be a _family piece_.'

_April 22, 1784._ _King's Place, or a View of Monsieur Reynard's Best

Friends._--Another gathering of Fox's fair adherents. The Prince of

Wales, surrounded by fashionably-dressed nymphs, wearing one of Fox's

favours below his plume, and with a fox-brush in his hand, is speaking

in his friend's favour: 'He supported my cause!' A pleasingly-drawn

female--probably intended to suggest Mrs. Robinson, the _Perdita_

of the Prince's early love-story--is asserting, 'He is as generous

as a prince, and a prince should not be limited!' A group of Lady

Abbesses are also saying 'good things' in their candidate's favour: 'He

introduced his Royal Highness to my house!' 'I have taken many a pound

of his money. Fox for ever. Huzza!'

_April 22, 1784._ _Political Affection._--The Duchess of Devonshire

is still slandered by the satirists; according to the present unjust

version her 'political affection' is causing her to neglect her infant,

the heir of the Cavendishes, to lavish her tenderness on a hybrid

prodigy, a fox dressed up in the robes of an infant. By the side of a

neglected cradle is seen a cat, forgetting her kitten to lick the face

of a poodle.

This coarse hostility to the Duchess was probably popular in its day,

as we find a long series of allusions conceived in the same spirit.

_April 23, 1784._ _Reynard put to his Shifts._--The artists always

took care to draw the Duchess of Devonshire as handsome and graceful

as possible, even when their satires were most reckless and unsparing;

while they descended to outrage the lady's fair reputation by

innuendoes which were utterly unwarrantable. The beauteous Devon is

standing in the middle of the picture, filled, as usual, with animation

for the Whig cause; she is offering the shelter of her protection to a

panting and frightened fox, whose pursuers are following fast on his

brush. A huntsman is encouraging his hounds: 'Tally O! my good dogs!'

'No Coalition,' 'No India Bill,' and other party utterances are put

into the mouths of the pack.

_April 29, 1784._ _The Case is Altered._--The election has gone

against Sir Cecil Wray, and he has to turn elsewhere; Fox, it will be

remembered, in addition to his return for Westminster, was elected

for Kirkwall (Scotland), and in the print he is shown driving his

discomfited opponent to Lincoln.

The Ministerial candidate is not travelling with a flourish of

trumpets, but is smuggled off in the 'Lincolnshire caravan for

paupers;' the knight is reflecting over his reverses: 'I always was a

poor dog, but now I am worse than ever.' Fox is acting as charioteer;

he is saying, over his shoulder, 'I will drive you to Lincoln, where

you may superintend the _small beer and brickdust_.'

Lord Hood, who has come upon this conveyance suddenly, is moved with

pity for his late colleague; he cries, 'Alas! poor Wray.'

[Illustration: THE CASE IS ALTERED.]

As the increasing number of votes gave fresh spirit to the Foxites,

satirical squibs, and songs exulting over Wray's possible downfall

and his future fate, were plentifully put forth by the wits of the

Opposition. The following specimen will illustrate the nature of some

of the placards which were scattered about towards the close of the

election:--

_Oh! help Judas, lest he fall into the_ PITT _of ingratitude_!!!

_The_ prayers _of all bad Christians, Heathens, Infidels, and

Devil's agents are most earnestly requested for their dear friend_,

JUDAS ISCARIOT, _Knight of the Back-stairs,

Lying at the period of political dissolution, having received a

dreadful wound from the lovers of liberty and the Constitution, in

the poll of the last ten days at the Hustings, nigh unto the Place

of Cabbages._

_April 29, 1784._ _Madame Blubber's Last Shift, or the Ærostatic

Dilly._--This caricature pictures the hustings at Covent Garden, with

a distant view of Richmond Hill. _Madame Blubber_ has patriotically

contrived to convert herself into an air-balloon, for the collection

and conveyance of _outlying voters_, crying, 'This may save him,' an

allusion to some incident in the canvass. A brace of voters have been

secured in the parachute of this novel Ærostatic Dilly; these favoured

gentlemen are enabled to take a flying view from their elevation of

the hustings below. Wray and Hood are anxiously looking forward to the

arrival of their balloon. According to the inscription given on the

plate, in the artist's hand, the print represents 'The grand political

Balloon, launched at Richmond Park, on the--March, 1784, and discharged

by secret influence with great effect in Covent Garden at 12 o'clock on

the same day.

'As it may be necessary to explain to the public upon what principles

a body was conveyed twelve miles with so great velocity, it must

be understood that the lady, though ponderous, being of a volatile

disposition, out of decency sewed up her petticoats, which, being

filled with gas, immediately raised her to a considerable height

in the atmosphere, and, by the attraction of secret influence, was

conveyed to her desired object--the support of Hood and Wray and the

Constitution--and descended happily to the hustings with two outlying

and dependent voters.'

Tho' in every street

All the voters you meet

The Duchess knows best how to court them,

Yet for outlying votes,

In my petticoats,

I've found out a way to transport them!

Eight trips in this way,

For Hood and for Wray,

I'll make poll sixteen in one day.

Dear Wray, don't despair,

My supplies by the air

Shall recover our losses on Monday!

_April 30, 1784._ _Procession to the Hustings after a Successful

Canvass._ (No. 14.)--Fox's supporters, a body of highly respectable

householders, wearing huge Fox favours in their hats, are walking in

procession to the hustings, cheered by the mob, and preceded by a

marrowbone-and-cleaver accompaniment. At the head of the train marches

the famous Duchess, with a somewhat novel standard; the other fair

canvassers, whose portraits occur in the previous prints, are following

in the footsteps of their illustrious leader; one is carrying a

placard, '_Fox and the Rights of the Commons_;' another has a mob-cap

and an apron, borne fluttering on a pole, with the words, '_No tax

on Maid-servants_.' Behind follows a monster key--_the key of the

back-stairs_--carried to deride the defeated candidate and the Court

influence which had vainly been brought into play for his support.

[Illustration: PROCESSION TO THE HUSTINGS AFTER A SUCCESSFUL CANVASS.]

_May 1, 1784._ _Every Man has his Hobby-horse._--The successful

candidate is chaired in a novel and agreeable fashion; his noble

supporter, the Duchess of Devonshire, has taken him 'pick-a-back,' and,

with staff and scrip, is bearing the victor on his triumphant progress;

she is pausing at the door of _Mungo's Hotel, dealer in British

spirits_, and soliciting the hospitality of the proprietor, a black

man: 'For the good of the Constitution, give me a glass of gin!'

Various bacchanalian revels are proceeding around, on the strength

of Fox's triumphant return; the mob are huzzaing around two monster

standards, which are topped by the cap of Liberty, and inscribed,

'_Rights of the Commons. No prerogative_,' '_Fox and Liberty all over

the world_.' An ensign is introduced, as appropriate to the occasion,

significantly figuring forth a pair of executioner's axes, bound with a

wreath of laurel.

_May 6, 1784._ _Wisdom Led by Virtue and Prudence to the Temple of

Fame._--This print is ascribed to Rowlandson, and in various points

it offers a close resemblance to his style of execution. _Wisdom_

in the present case is personified by the successful candidate for

Westminster; the Duchess of Devonshire and Lady Duncannon, wearing

_Fox_ cockades in their head-dresses, are represented as _Virtue_ and

_Prudence_. The former lady is also carrying a fox's-brush; she is

crying:--

Let Envy rail and Disappointment rage,

Still Fox shall prove the wonder of the age!

To which Lady Duncannon is adding:--

Triumph and Fame shall every step attend

His king's best subject and his country's friend!

Britannia is seated, in an attitude of expectation, at the portal of

the _Temple of Fame_; she is bidding her patriotic son 'welcome to her

arms.' Sir Cecil Wray, represented as a disappointed Fury, is seen in

the distance; he is soliloquising:--

Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,

Well could I curse away a winter's night.

_May 11, 1784._ _A Coat of Arms. Dedicated to the Newly-created Earl

of Lonsdale._--There is no publisher's name to the plate, which offers

a fanciful and by no means flattering design for an appropriate coat

of arms and supporters, gratuitously presented for the use of Sir

James Lowther, _the newly-created Earl of Lonsdale_. Two ragged and

semi-clad Volunteers, the one minus his _culottes_, the other without

shoes, with the initials W. M. on their crossbelts, form the supporters

of a shield, above which figures the earl's coronet. There are six

quarterings, each filled in with paper scrolls: 'False Musters,' 'False

Certificates for Volunteer Companies,' 'False Returns,' 'Retention of

Clothing,' 'Contract for building a man-of-war (cancelled and money

returned),' and 'Retention of Bounty.' The motto of this suggestive

escutcheon is, '_Who doubts it?_'

Pitt had obtained his first seat in Parliament (1781) through the

influence of Sir James Lowther, described by 'Junius' as 'the

contemptuous tyrant of the North.' In 1784, when the King and his Prime

Minister deemed it prudent to reward the adherents of their party, and

at the same time strengthen the Court influence, by creating a new

batch of peers, Pitt repaid his obligation to Lowther (the Duke of

Rutland, Pitt's fellow-student at Cambridge, had enlisted Lowther's

influence in his favour), by raising him to the House of Peers, under

the title of the Earl of Lonsdale, thus overleaping the two inferior

stages of the peerage. It might be supposed that this reward would

have been commensurate with his pretensions, but Earl Lonsdale's

name appearing at the bottom of the list of the newly-created earls

published in the _Gazette_, he threatened to reject the earldom, and

means were with difficulty found to appease his irritation.

The wits of the 'Rolliad' made the most of the circumstance: 'Hints

from Dr. Prettyman to the Premier's Porter.--Let Lord Lonsdale have _my

Lord_ and _your Lordship_ repeated in his ear as often as possible; the

apartment hung with garter blue is proper for his reception.'

My lords, my lords, a whisper I desire--

Dame Liberty grows stronger--some feet higher;

She will not be bamboozled as of late--

_Aristocrate et la Lanterne_

Are very often cheek by jowl, we learn,

Within a certain neigh'b'ring bustling State:

I think your lordships and your graces

Would not much like to dangle with wry faces.

PETER PINDAR'S _Ode to Lord Lonsdale_.

_May 11, 1784._ _The Westminster Mendicant._--The rejected candidate

for Westminster has been sent forth a wanderer. The figure of Sir Cecil

Wray is represented as a blind beggar; he is resting his head and

shoulders on a long staff; under his left arm is held a _Subscription

Scrutiny Box_, in allusion to the vexatious scrutiny set on foot by

his party; and he holds a spaniel by a string; a second begging-box is

attached to the dog's collar. The mendicant is issuing a doleful appeal

to the public:--

Pity the weak and needy, pray;

Oh! pity me; I've lost the day.

Above the head of the blind man's dog is the following:--

See here the dog, of all his kind

The fittest for a beggar blind:

The beast can bark, or growl as hog;

His name is Churchill,[26]--oh, the dog!

Below the title is engraved:--

Ye Christians, charitable, good, and civil,

Pray something give to this poor wandering devil.

By men cast out, perhaps by God forgiven,

Then may one Judas find a road to heaven.

The Irish chairmen--who had played such a conspicuous part in the

early riots, where they routed the sailor-mob brought up by Hood to

intimidate Fox's voters--had a fling at their discomfited enemy in a

'new' ballad, '_Paddy's Farewell to Sir Cecil_':--

Sir Cecil be aisy, I won't be unshivil;

Now the Man of the Paple is chose in your stead;

From swate Covent Garden you're flung to the Divil;

By Jasus, Sir Cecil, you've bodder'd your head.

Fa-ra-lal, &c.

To be sure, much avail to you all your fine spaiches;

'Tis nought but palaver, my honey, my dear;

While all Charlie's voters stick to him like laiches,

A friend to our liberties and our _small beer_.

Fa-ra-lal, &c.

Ah, now! pray let no jontleman prissent take this ill;

By my truth, Pat shall nivir use unshivil werds;

But my varse sure must praise, which the name of Sir Cecil

Hands down to oblivion's latest records.

Fa-ra-lal, &c.

If myshelf with the tongue of a prophet is gifted,

Oh! I sees in a twinkling the knight's latter ind!

Tow'rds the verge of his life div'lish high he'll be lifted,

And after his death, never fear, he'll discind.

Fa-ra-lal, &c.

_May 18, 1784._ _The Westminster Deserter Drumm'd out of the

Regiment._--This caricature brings the election scenes in Covent Garden

to an end; the Court party is defeated, and the Man of the People has

triumphed. Sir Cecil Wray is handcuffed as a deserter, and is being

drummed away from the hustings; he is exclaiming, 'Help, Churchill!

Jackson, help! or I am lost for ever!' It is worthy of record that Sir

Cecil Wray's figure disappears from the caricatures until 1791, when we

meet him again with a barrel of small-beer under his arm, assisting the

members of the Opposition (whose ranks he rejoined) to carry out the

'_hopes of the party_,' as set forth in a famous pictorial satire by

Gillray (July 14, 1791).

In the _Westminster Deserter_ 'honest Sam House' is drumming away

with a will, and Wray is obliged to run the gauntlet of a line of

exasperated Chelsea Pensioners, who are expressing a wish that '_all

public deserters may feel public resentment_;' a body of maid-servants

are marching in the rear, with shovels, mops, and brooms, brought out

in readinesss to sweep forth their antagonist. The electioneering mob

is divided between hooting the 'Deserter' and applauding the success of

the 'Champion of the People,' who is planting the standard of Britannia

and manfully acknowledging his gratitude to his supporters: 'Friends

and fellow-citizens, I cannot find words to express my feelings to you

upon this victory.'

Fox's difficulties, as regarded his seat for Westminster and the

hostilities of his opponents, the Court party, did not end with the

election; the Ministerialists had from the first declared their

intention of demanding a scrutiny if Fox succeeded, because it was

known that, under the circumstances, this would be a long, tedious, and

expensive affair. The returning officer acted partially, and upon Sir

Cecil Wray's application for a scrutiny declined to make his return

pending the investigation. Fox had secured a seat for Kirkwall,

so that he was not hindered from taking his place in the House; and

after some months' delay, and a great deal of fighting on both sides,

the High Bailiff, Thomas Corbett, was ordered to duly return Charles

James Fox as Member for Westminster, as is set forth in a caricature

by Rowlandson (_see_ March 1, 1785). Fox subsequently thought proper

to bring an action against the High Bailiff, and that functionary in

return for his perfidy was cast in heavy damages--a fresh triumph for

the Opposition.

[Illustration: THE WESTMINSTER DESERTER DRUMM'D OUT OF THE REGIMENT.]

_May 18, 1784._ _Secret Influence Directing the New Parliament._--King

George III. is complacently seated on his throne; once more

reassured on the subject of his Parliament, he is remarking, with

self-congratulation, 'I trust we have got such a Parliament as we

wanted.' _Secret Influence_ is represented on one side by a huge

serpent whispering secret counsel to the monarch. The head of the

reptile is that of Lord Temple. Lord Thurlow, on the other side of

the throne, still wearing his Chancellor's wig, his body represented

as that of a monstrous bird of prey, is observing, with his usual

overbearing roughness, 'Damn the Commons! the Lords shall rule,' while

the Scotch influence, in the person of Lord Bute, partially concealed

behind the throne, is echoing, 'Very gude, very gude; damn the Commons!'

Britannia, unconscious of her danger, is calmly reposing, with her

elbow resting on her shield, while Fox, who has recognised the dangers

which are threatening the liberty of the people, is trying to rouse

the slumberer, and crying, 'Thieves, thieves! Zounds, awake, madam, or

you'll have your throat cut!'

[Illustration: THURLOW. BUTE. GEORGE III. TEMPLE. BRITANNIA. FOX.

SECRET INFLUENCE DIRECTING THE NEW PARLIAMENT.]

_May 18, 1784._ _Preceptor and Pupil._

Not Satan to the ear of Eve

Did e'er such pious counsel give.--MILTON.

The Prince of Wales, wearing his plumed hat, has fallen asleep; Fox,

now represented as a toad, with a fox's brush for a tail--who has

crept from the concealment of some neighbouring sedges--is insinuating

pernicious counsel into the ear of the slumberer--

Abjure thy country and thy parents, and I will give thee dominion

over Many powers. Better to rule in hell than serve on earth.

_May 18, 1784._ _The Departure._--This affecting scene is taking place

outside the Prince of Wales's residence; his Royal Highness is watching

the departure of his friend from the window. Fox is mounted on a

patient ass, ready to ride the road to 'Coventry;' the High Bailiff,

having unlawfully refused to make his return until the conclusion

of the scrutiny which Sir Cecil Wray thought proper to instigate,

the caricaturist hints that, for the time, the Whig leader will be

'left out in the cold' until the question of his return is finally

settled. Fox has accordingly rolled up his India Bill, and is taking a

doleful farewell of his fair champions, the Duchess of Devonshire and

Lady Ducannon, on either side of his steed; the sorrowing ladies are

grasping his hand and crying--

Farewell, my Charley!--let no fears assail.

Ah, sister, sister, must he, then, depart?

To lose poor Reynard almost breaks my heart.

Fox is observing, before his departure--

If that a Scrutiny at last takes place,

I can't tell how 'twill be, and please your Grace!

Burke is standing, equipped as a postilion, in readiness to drive off

his ally, with a _plan of economy_ under his arm.

_May 25, 1784._ _Liberty and Fame Introducing Female Patriotism to

Britannia._

She smiles--

Infused with a fortitude from heaven.

SHAKESPEARE'S _Tempest_.

This print has nothing of the caricature about it, excepting, perhaps,

the unusual spirit, lightness, and ease of execution. All the figures

are graceful and elegant, and the attitudes leave nothing to be

desired. Britannia is on her throne, the British lion is at her feet,

and the ocean, with her ships riding triumphant, is extending as far as

can be seen; the figures of _Liberty_ and _Fame_, with their respective

attributes, are tripping up to the throne, leading the beautiful

Georgiana forward to receive the laurels of victory.

_May 20, 1784._ _For the Benefit of the Champion. A catch, to be

performed at the New Theatre, Covent Garden. For admission apply to the

Duchess. N.B. Gratis to those who wear large tails._

[Illustration: FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE CHAMPION.]

The 'catch' is performed by the Duchess of Devonshire, Fox, and Lord

North; the grief expressed by the singers is, of course, apocryphal.

The Duchess is leading; she wears a Fox favour in her hat, which is

further garnished with a fox's brush; she is pointing to a tombstone

topped with the death's head and crossbones, and inscribed, 'Here lies

poor Cecil Ray.' 'Look, neighbours, look! Here lies poor Cecil Wray.'

'Dead and turned to clay,' sings Fox; to which Lord North adds, 'What!

old Cecil Wray?' The sharp profile of Burke is thrust through the door.

The pictures hanging round the room are appropriate to the subject: a

committee of foxes are wondering over 'The Fox who has lost his tail;'

'The Fox and the Crow,' in which sly Reynard is represented as gazing

longingly at the cheese held in the crow's beak; 'Fox and the Grapes,'

and 'Fox and Goose.'

_May 28, 1784._ _The Petitioning Candidate for Westminster._--Designed

according to a note on the plate, by Lord James Manners, and

executed by Rowlandson. As we stated in an earlier caricature, due

precautions were employed that Fox should not be left without a place

in the newly-constituted Parliament, and accordingly in the present

print--nearly the last of the series put forth on the Westminster

Election for 1784--Fox, with a fox's head and brush, completely dressed

in a suit of tartan, is speeding along, on a Highland pony, away from

Kirkwall (for which he took his seat) back to London, flourishing his

plaid, and crying, 'From the heath-covered mountains of Scotia I come.'

We can now take leave of the caricatures called forth on the

Westminster Election and continue our review of the remainder of the

satirical prints issued by Rowlandson in the course of 1784.

_November 2, 1784._ _The Minister's Ass._ Vide _Gazetteer_, November

11, 1784. Published by S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly.--Three mounted

figures are shown crossing Wimbledon Common; one gentleman's donkey is

speeding along briskly; a gallant lady, mounted on a grey horse, is

riding between the two cavaliers and their donkeys; she is giving a

friendly cut with her whip at the animal bestridden by her left-hand

neighbour--the minister's ass, in fact, which is refusing to gallop

forward; the rider is wearing his blue riband. A figure in the rear

is endeavouring to reduce the refractory beast to reason with a

scientifically administered kick.

_December 10, 1784._ _Anticipation of an intended Exhibition, with

an excellent new ballad to be sung by a High Character, to the tune

of 'The Vicar and Moses.'_ Mark Lane, delin. and fecit. Published by

T. Harris, High Street, Marylebone.--This caricature sets forth by

anticipation the fate of Christopher Atkinson, M.P., who was sentenced

on November 27, 1784, and pilloried November 25, 1785. A print by

Gillray (August 12, 1782) gives a view of the trial under the title of

'_The Victualling Committee Framing a Report_.' Peter Pindar also makes

a poetical allusion to the circumstances. Christopher Atkinson, M.P.

for Heydon, Yorkshire, was convicted of peculation in his semi-official

capacity as corn-factor to the Victualling Board. He was finally tried

at the King's Bench for perjury, found guilty, and expelled from the

House of Commons.

In Rowlandson's view of the novel situation of the contractor

the pillory is raised on the Corn Exchange, and the criminal is

standing with his head and hands enclosed in a board, with two dwarf

corn-sheaves on either side; the Sheriffs, with a numerous crowd of

citizens, are attending the exhibition, which Atkinson does not find to

his taste. The sentiments of the pilloried contractor are expounded in

a ballad:--

Here stand I, poor soul,

With my head in a hole,

To be gazed at by all passers by;

And what's this about,

This racket and rout,

But for swearing a mercantile lie!

They say that for gain

I've a rogue been in grain

But what is all that to the point?

If all were so serv'd

Who, like me, have deserv'd,

The State would be soon out of joint.

Many agents, I fear,

Would have their heads here,

And, like me, be expos'd to detractors;

What would you do then,

For Parliament men,

Should any of them be contractors?

For my part I rejoice,

And with loud, grateful voice

Proclaim it to all my beholders;

Notwithstanding your scoff,

I think I'm well off,

That my head is still left on my shoulders.

I know it full well,

And for once truth will tell,

Tho' my speech in this d--d place may falter:

Not a session goes by

But much less rogues than I

Their last contract make with a halter.

But as I am quitting

I think it is fitting

My future pursuits you should know:

When I leave the King's Bench

I will live with the French;

To the devil my country may go.

1784. _John Stockdale, the Bookselling Blacksmith, one of the King's

New Friends._ (See _Intrepid Magazine_.)--Old Stockdale, the somewhat

notorious publisher of his day, who, like the hero of the last picture,

had the honour of standing in the pillory, is shown at his forge,

surrounded by hammers and horseshoes, and with a tethered jackass

waiting his attentions, as soon as the _Bookselling Blacksmith_ shall

have completed the work he has in hand, the somewhat incongruous

occupation of hammering out folio volumes on an anvil.

SOCIAL CARICATURES.

_January 24, 1784._ _A Sketch from Nature._ Published by J. R. Smith,

83 Oxford Street.--This plate is apparently scarce, since the only

impression the writer has seen is one in the French National Collection

of Engravings, Paris, where the admirer of Rowlandson's works will be

gratified to discover a very fair gathering of caricatures by this

master, the collection containing certain scarce subjects which it is

difficult to find elsewhere, besides several proofs of rare plates. The

prints throughout are in capital preservation; in several instances an

impression from a rare plate, and a coloured print from the same, are

mounted side by side.

_A Sketch from Nature_, which is the first and perhaps the best print

of the Paris series, is rendered, like most of the plates published

by J. R. Smith, exceptionally interesting from the care and delicacy

bestowed on the engraving, and the success with which the tender

expressions, which Rowlandson knew so well how to throw into the

faces of his female beauties, are preserved and transferred to the

copper. The subject is engraved in stipple, and, as a print after

Rowlandson, it exhibits unusual quality and finish. The subject is

somewhat hazardous: a situation borrowed from that inexhaustible epic

the _Rake's Progress_, presenting all the license of debauchery, but

expressed without coarseness. A mixed party of nymphs and roysterers

are performing bacchanalian orgies; the 'Lady Abbess' has succumbed

to her potations, and is slumbering heavily in her armchair. Punch

and wine are flowing indiscriminately; a poodle has come in for

the contents of a punch-glass, which is overturned, and a man in

tipsy wantonness is upsetting a punch-bowl over the dog's head. The

arms of a sweetly pretty Bacchante are entwined round the neck of

the maudlin reveller. Beside the well-filled table sits a youthful

military 'blood;' another nymph, whose adolescent charms are liberally

displayed, is seated on the knee of this son of Mars. The young lady

is evidently disposed to be frolicsome, since she is flourishing in

the air a full-bottomed wig, which she has snatched from the head of

a corpulent Silenus, in whom age has failed to bring sober reason or

to correct frivolity; this ancient buck is deservedly getting his face

scratched and clawed in an amorous struggle with a handsome maiden,

dressed in a hat and feathers, who is forcibly repelling the advances

of the elderly rake.

1784. _English Curiosity, or the Foreigner Stared out of

Countenance._--From this social caricature it seems that some

distinguished foreigner was visiting this country in 1784, whose

general appearance was exciting more public attention than would be

considered polite. The foreigner is dressed in a gay military uniform,

and has gone to enjoy himself at the theatre; but the eyes of the

audience do little else but stare at his uniform. The identity of this

bird of passage is not very positive at this date. The plate, as a

whole, is as characteristic and well-drawn an example of Rowlandson's

etchings as can be found; the countenances of the spectators are

capitally filled in, the various types of theatre-goers are hit off

with spirit, and the female faces and figures are rendered with

remarkable sweetness.

[Illustration: COUNSELLOR AND CLIENT.]

1784. _Counsellor and Client._--A simple citizen has waited on his

lawyer with a document; the client is seated, very ill at ease; we

can see that he is the person who will suffer; his face expresses

perplexity and suspense. The counsellor is, on the contrary, very

much at his ease, and is looking over the document confided to him,

with a sly and satisfied expression, evidently seeing his way to some

'excellent practice.'

_May 4, 1784._ _La Politesse Françoise, or the English Ladies' Petition

to His Excellency the Mushroom Ambassador._ Published by H. Humphrey,

Bond Street.--The representative of Louis XVI. is all bows and smirks,

lace ruffles and cravat, sword, bagwig, and shoe-buckles; he has

turned his face away from a bevy of fair English beauties, bejewelled,

prodigiously feathered, and wearing long court trains; the ambassador

is obdurate to the entreaties of his petitioners. 'Parbleu, mesdames,

_vous n'y viendrez pas_.'

With clasped hands and bended knees,

They humbly sought the Count to please,

And begged admission to his house.

Not that for him they cared a louse,

But wished within his walls to shine,

And show those charms they think divine.

His Ex. beheld these belles unmov'd--

His back their impudence reproved.

_July 24, 1784._ _1784, or the Fashions of the Day._ H. Repton inv.,

T. Rowlandson fecit.--The Park, with its mixed crowd of fashionable

promenaders and pleasure-seekers, has afforded the designer ample scope

for the delineation of both grotesque and graceful figures, modishly

apparelled. In 1784, while the older generation still clung to the

garments characteristic of the earlier Georges, the younger branches

rushed into all the latest innovations--costumes which are generally

received as distinctive of the end of the last and the beginning of the

present century. Thus to the observer of the picturesque the fashions

of 1784 offered the external habits of two distinct epochs. Among other

features, indicative of the introduction of novelties, the artist has

represented the parasol, or more properly the umbrella, then an object

likely to occasion remark, as its general use was just coming into

fashion.

_August 8, 1784._ _The Vicar and Moses._ Published by H. Humphrey, 18

New Bond Street.--A pictorial heading, in Rowlandson's characteristic

style, to the famous old song of '_The Vicar and Moses_,' by G. A.

Stevens. The Vicar has been dragged unwillingly from his ale-cup, by

his clerk, to assist at the burial of a child; the family mourners are

waiting in the churchyard, as shown in the picture; Moses, the clerk,

has put on his bands and found the parson's place in his book, and he

is lighting the erratic footsteps of his patron with a broken candle

placed in a horn lantern; as to the rotund dignitary of the Church,

he is reeling along reluctantly; he wears his cassock and bands, as

was the daily fashion at one time, and his hat is thrust well over his

full-bottomed wig, which is somewhat awry; in one hand he retains his

faithful pipe, and his tobacco-box is held in the other. The verses,

which are tolerably well known, offer a whimsical description of how

the Vicar, who happened to be _non si ipse_ (_i.e._ 'the parson was

tipsy'), having been disturbed at his meditations over a pot of ale,

was informed that he was required to read the burial service over the

body of one of his flock; the pastor felt strongly inclined to remain

where he was, and proposed to postpone the ceremonial.

Then Moses reply'd:

'Sir, the parish will chide

For keeping them out in cold weather.'

'Then, Moses,' quoth he,

'Go and tell 'em from me

I'll bury them warm all together!'

'But, sir, it rains hard;

Pray have some regard.'

'Regard! ay, 'tis that makes me stay,

For no corpse, young or old,

In rain can catch cold;

But faith, Moses, you and I may!'

Moses begg'd he'd be gone,

Saying, 'Sir, the rain's done;

Arise, and I'll lend you my hand.'

'It's hard,' quoth the Vicar,

'To leave thus my liquor--

To go when I'm sure I can't stand.'

At length, tho' so troubled,

To the churchyard he hobbled,

Lamenting the length of the way.

Then 'Moses,' said he,

'Were I a Bishop, d'ye see,

I need neither walk, preach, or pray!'

The whole composition is more humorous than reverential, but it

indicates the taste of the period, according to the last lines:--

'And thus we have carried the farce on:

The taste of the times

Will relish our rhymes,

When the ridicule runs on a parson.'

_November 1, 1784._ _New-Invented Elastic Breeches._ Designed by Nixon.

Etched by Rowlandson. Published by W. Humphrey.

_November 8, 1784._ _Money-Lenders._--A young nobleman is receiving

the visits of certain usurers. One Hebrew gentleman, the principal, or

'capitalist,' is dressed with a certain attention to the fashion of

the day, which proves that he is by no means an insignificant member

of the money-lending fraternity. A deed or bond, the security on which

the young spendthrift is expecting an advance, is being duly examined

by a more miserly-looking Shylock--'a little Jew-broker,' in fact. As

to the borrower, it is clearly indicated that he is quite at his ease

in the transaction; it seems evident that whatever money he may raise

(regardless of the sacrifices to which he submits in obtaining it) will

be quickly thrown to the winds, and 'the dose will have to be repeated

as before' until his resources are exhausted.

[Illustration: MONEY-LENDERS.]

_September 25, 1784._ _Bookseller and Author._--A characteristic

drawing, in Rowlandson's best recognised style, bearing the name of

Henry Wigstead as inventor, published by J. R. Smith. The persons of

the publisher and author present the marked and conventional extreme

contrasts which the two spheres of life were supposed to suggest--the

one gross and prosperous, the other meagre and miserable. The scene of

the interview may be assumed to be the back-shop of the bookseller; it

is fitted around with shelves lined with books. The trader is stout

and solid; his spectacles are thrust up on his forehead, his pen is

behind his ear, and his hands are held beneath his coat-tails, in a

self-assertive attitude, implying well-to-do pomposity.

Wigstead, whose name is associated with authorship (although his

professional position as a magistrate exempted him from the sufferings

of a struggling literary hack), has painted the professional gentleman

in no flattering colours; the man of letters is wretchedly lean in

person, and abjectly subservient in manner to the trafficker who is

buying his ideas; his hat is held respectfully under his arm, and his

manuscript, which he is endeavouring to recommend to his patron, is

in his hand. One of the bookseller's clients, a respectable Church

dignitary, who is looking through the library, with great owl-like horn

spectacles on his reverend nose, is present at the interview, and is

regarding the poor literary hack with an air of inflated superiority.

1784. _London, Made and Sold by Broderip and Wilkinson, 13

Haymarket._--A plate for a trade advertisement, introducing the

figures Apollo, Daphne, &c., drawn and etched with considerable grace

and spirit. Among Rowlandson's renderings of the works of other men we

may mention a sketch after T. Mortimer, etched by T. R., 1784. This

study portrays the back view of an Italian or Spanish peasant woman,

playing the flute.

1784. _The Historian Animating the Mind of a Young Painter._--This

subject represents the painting-room of a young artist, furnished with

a drawing-table, an easel, a couple of chairs, a settee, and a bust,

while a few sketches of figure subjects are pinned on the walls. The

painter, who is a well-favoured youth, is seated with his back to his

easel, on which is a classic study in course of execution. His palette

is on the ground, and he is holding a crayon in one hand, and a folio,

which is serving as his drawing-board, in the other, ready to dash down

his conceptions as soon as his imagination is sufficiently inspired

by the effects of his friend's readings. The learned historian, whose

hat and gloves are at his feet, wears a full-bottomed wig and large

round rimmed spectacles. His appearance is somewhat clerical, and he

is evidently filled with enthusiasm for the subject on which he is

declaiming, book in hand. The limner's wife, in a morning dress, is

seated by the fire, amusing her infant son, who is standing on her knee

in a nude state, the infant being probably impressed into the service

of the fine arts as the model for a cherubim. No publisher's name is

given on this plate, which is delicately rendered.

1784. The print of a group of three figures; in the centre is a

pretty simple maiden, whose face wears an artless expression, such as

Rowlandson excelled in delineating, seated in an armchair, and grasping

the hand of a youth, who has opened a vein in his arm, while another

maid, in a morning cap and dress, is lending her assistance. The name

of R. Batty has been given in MS. as 'sculpsit.' Both the drawing of

the figures and the style of the etching are strongly indicative of

Rowlandson's handiwork.

1784. _Rest from Labour on Sunny Days._ Designed and etched by T.

Rowlandson.--A peasant is sitting in an easy attitude perched upon the

ruins of a temple, playing the flute; a pretty peasant maid is leaning

beside him, with her dog at her feet. Etching and aquatinta.

1784. _Billingsgate._--All the humours of this famous academy of slang

are displayed. The fish-selling fags have their baskets planted in rows

in front of the landing-place. The hampers of the porters and the masts

of ships are seen beyond. The Billingsgate hawkers are offering their

fish vociferously for sale, getting drunk, and generally behaving in

the disorderly style attributed to them. A gouty customer, evidently

an epicure, who has come to select a turbot for his table, is seized

unceremoniously by his wig and coat-tails and tripped up in the

exertions of a fishfag aided by her urchin to arrest the passer, and

call attention to certain goods she is holding out for inspection.

1784. _Miller's Waggon._

1784. _A Timber Waggon._ Published by E. Jackson,

14 Marylebone Street, Golden Square.

1784. _Country Cart Horses._ "

1784. _Dray Horses. Draymen and Maltsters._ "

1784. _Higglers' Carts._ "

1784. _A Post-chaise._ "

1784. _A Cabriolet._ "

_Rowlandson's Imitations of Modern Drawings._ Folio. 1784-88.

F. Wheatley A Coast Scene, fishermen, fisherwomen, &c.

" A Companion "

Gainsborough A Sketch; trees, cottages, &c.

" Cattle, river side.

F. Wheatley A Fair.

Bartolozzi A Pair of Cupids.

Barret and Gilpin Mares and Foals.

" Cattle.

Gainsborough Landscape sketch.

Mortimer A Storm at Sea.

Gainsborough Cows.

Zucchi Harmony. Two nymphs singing, another

playing a lyre.

Mortimer The Philosopher.

Barret Ruins, and a Park.

Mortimer A Study.

Barret Ruins, &c.

Gainsborough A Cottage, &c.

" An Open Landscape.

Mortimer Scene in 'The Tempest,' from Shakespeare.

Republished 1801. J. P. Thompson, Soho.

G. Barret Lake Scene.

Saurey Gilpin, R.A. Horses.

G. Holmes The Sage and his Pupil.

Michael Angelo Leda and the Swan.

G. B. Cipriani Sleeping Venus and Love.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] 'General Johnson reminded Mr. Fox that he had undertaken to bring

in another East India Bill. Mr. Fox did not deny that he had said

he could have his Bill ready within a day or two--he said so still;

but, as there was not, at present, any Government--any strong, and

efficient, and constitutional Government--he thought it would be absurd

to enter on the discussion of any measure; since, whatever it might be,

it would not be carried into execution.'--_Morning Post_, Feb. 9, 1784.

[25] Lord Thurlow, whose private life, if we may believe the

caricaturists, was not of the purest.

[26] In several of the caricatures directed against Wray the

discomfited candidate is invoking the assistance of Churchill, who was,

however, apparently unable to offer his patron any effectual aid.

1785.

_January 7, 1785._ _The Fall of Achilles._--It was evident from the

first that the chances of the members of the late Coalition Ministry

returning to power were weakened in the new Parliament, and it soon

became obvious that, even as an Opposition, their party was without

either weight or influence. Fox in looking round the recently elected

House found himself surrounded by country gentlemen, Pitt's following,

whose faces were unfamiliar to him. Pitt was firmly settled, the

unquestioned master of the situation. It is the youthful Premier who

has come forth, in the character of Paris it is presumed, with a bow

and a quiver of arrows, the better to shoot Whiggism on the wing; he

has just sent a bolt straight into the flying Opposition; the arrow has

lodged in the heel of the mighty Fox, who is represented double the

size of his triumphant adversary.

Thus do I strive with heart and hand

To drive sedition from the land!

The Whig chief is disabled, in spite of his armour, and he is lying at

the mercy of the enemy.

There is nought but a place or a pension will ease

The strain that I've got in my tendon Achilles.

The turns of North and Burke seem likely to follow; the prostrate form

of Fox is tripping up his friend's retreat; North's sword and buckler

seem of no service to him; he is crying in perplexity--

This curs'd eternal Coalition

Has brought us to a rare condition.

Burke is trying to make good his escape.

Before thy arrows, Pitt, I fly;

I d--n that word _prolixity_.

_January 24, 1785._ _Mock-Turtle._ Published by S. W. Fores.

_March 2, 1785._ _The Golden Apple, or the Modern Paris._ Published by

J. Phillips, Piccadilly.--The Prince of Wales is represented in the

enviable position of Paris, deciding between the respective attractions

of the three Duchesses, Rutland, Devonshire, and Gordon, the rival

luminaries whose brilliancy dazzled society, and whose beauties graced

the Court of the Prince of Wales. A gallant songster of the day has

perpetuated the charms of this dazzling trio in the following lines,

appropriate to Rowlandson's agreeably-expressed cartoon:--

Come, Paris, leave your hills and dells;

You'll scorn your dowdy goddesses,

If once you see our English belles,

For all their gowns and bodices.

Here's Juno Devon, all sublime;

Minerva Gordon's wit and eyes;

Sweet Rutland, Venus in her prime:

You'll die before you give the prize.

_March, 1785._ _The Admiring Jew._ (Etched 1784.) Published by T.

Smith, 6 Wardour Street, Soho.--An old Jew, who is evidently a man of

substance, but awkward, ugly, and ill-bred, is twiddling his fingers

and thumbs and pouring soft persuasions into the ear of a handsome and

well-dressed lady, who is apparently a person of fashion.

[Illustration: THE DEFEAT OF THE HIGH AND MIGHTY BALISSIMO CORBETTINO

AND HIS FAMED CECILIAN FORCES, ON THE PLAINS OF ST. MARTIN, ON

THURSDAY, THE 3RD DAY OF FEBRUARY, 1785, BY THE CHAMPION OF THE PEOPLE

AND HIS CHOSEN BAND.

After a smart skirmish, which lasted a considerable time, in

which many men were lost on both sides. But their great ally, at

length losing ground, desertions took place, and notwithstanding

their vast superiority in numbers and weight of metal at the

first onset, this increased apace, altho' often rallied by the

ablest man in command, till at length the forces gave way in

all quarters and they were totally overthrown. This print is

dedicated to the Electors of the City and Liberty of Westminster,

who have so nobly stood forth and supported their champion upon

this trying occasion, by

AN INDEPENDENT ELECTOR.

_March 7, 1785._ _Defeat of the high and mighty Balissimo Corbettino

and his famed Cecilian Forces_, on the plains of St. Martin, on

Thursday, the 3rd day of February, 1785, by the Champion of the People

and his Chosen Band.--Fox, at the head of his party, whose arms are

legal weapons, such as _Law_, _Eloquence_, _Perseverance_, and _Truth_,

is routing and putting to flight the combined forces of his opponents,

led by Sir Cecil Wray and the High Bailiff, Corbett. At the Westminster

Election it will be remembered, Fox had gained the victory over his

antagonists; and the Scrutiny, moved for by Sir Cecil Wray, being

concluded, the proper return was directed to be made; and, as we have

mentioned, the successful candidate brought an action and recovered

heavy damages against the High Bailiff (who had made himself the tool

of the Ministerialists). Fox is protected by his buckler, inscribed

'Majority 38;' he is sweeping away the 'Cecilian forces' with the sword

of 'Justice;' a laurel crown is placed on his brow by a celestial

messenger, who is also charged with the decision of the Court--'It

is ordered that Thomas Corbett, Esq., do immediately return.' Fox is

declaring, 'The wrath of my indignation is kindled, and I will pursue

them with a mighty hand and outstretched arm until justice is done

to those who have so nobly supported me.' Sir Cecil Wray's shield of

_Ingratitude_ is no defence, and his weapon has snapped short; he is

crying in despair, 'My knees wax feeble, and I sink beneath the weight

of my own apostacy!' The High Bailiff is thrown down; he confesses, 'My

conscience is now at peace;' an ally is crying, 'Help, help! our chief

is fallen. O conscience, support me!' Corbett's lawyers have turned

their backs on the cause of the client: 'Nor law, nor conscience, nor

the aid of potent Ministers, can e'er support the contest 'gainst such

a chief!' 'Our support is gone and we are fallen into a Pitt; yea, even

into a deep Pitt!'

_March 27, 1785._ _The surprising Irish Giant of St. James's Street.

'The surprising Irish Colossus, King of the Giants, measuring eight

feet ten inches; noble Order of St. Patrick, &c.'_--The figure of the

famous Irish Giant is drawn with skill and originality by Rowlandson.

The person of this colossus, although gigantic, is graceful, and

his proportions are such that the spectators who surround him are

apparently dwarfed to half the usual standard. The giant's right hand

is resting on the head of a military commander, the tallest man in

the room, who, while standing bolt upright, does not reach much above

the waistband of the Irish mammoth. Another officer, while standing

on tiptoe on a chair, is still a full third short of the height of

the prodigy. The ladies are struck with wonder at such gigantic

limbs, and one of them is comparing her tiny foot with the large and

well-proportioned member of the giant; while some of the audience are

investing themselves in his top-boots. The skeleton of this remarkable

person is preserved in the Hunterian Museum, College of Surgeons.

'Mr. Lynn related to-day that the surgeons, in spite of the vigilance

of the Irish Giant's friends, obtained the body for dissection. They

made several attempts to bury it in the Thames, or to convey it to

Dover. But the body-hunters were too keen for all they aimed at; and

after keeping the corpse fourteen days they sold it to John Hunter for

100_l._ The heart was preserved, and was very large.... The stature of

the skeleton measures eight feet two inches.'--'MS. Journal of Captain

E. Thompson, R.N.' (_Cornhill Magazine_, May 1868.)

_April 12, 1785._ _The Wonderful Pig._ Published S. W. Fores, 3

Piccadilly.--The artist has given a grotesque representation of the

learned hog, spelling his words before a delighted audience; the

individual characteristics of the spectators are capitally diversified;

their actions and groupings are, as usual, marked with vivacity.

According to a placard over the mantel-piece of the hall in which this

intellectual entertainment was offered we learn: 'The surprising pig,

well versed in all languages, perfect arithmetician, mathematician, and

composer of music.'

_May 27, 1784._ Verses published 1785. _The Waterfall, or an Error in

Judgment._ Published by Wallis, Ludgate Hill.

The coxcomb, student, and attorney vile,

Jew bail and tipstaff, added to the pile;

All rush in terror, or from gain or sport,

And headlong tumble down the steps of Court.

The incident on which this print was founded occurred, according to the

magazines, &c., in 1785; and, as numerous illustrations appeared at the

time, it seems that the artist has put the date of the year wrongly.

_The Waterfall_ represents the Court of King's Bench in an uproar. The

members of the Bench and the Bar, counsellors, attorneys, and clients,

suitors and witnesses, are taking to flight indiscriminately, trampling

over one another in their precipitate retreat, tumbling down the stairs

of Westminster Hall, while robes, wigs, and briefs are lost in the

struggle.

Rowlandson's illustration of this scene of consternation is used as the

heading for a song to the tune of '_The Roast Beef of Old England_.'

According to the song the recitative relates:--

'Twas at the Hall of Rufus, Woodfall tells,

Where brawling, sneering Discord ever dwells;

Where honest men despond, where tricking thrives,

And Law against plain Reason ever strives,

A sudden fright seiz'd all the black-rob'd race,

And inward horror mark'd each hideous face.

A maiden appear'd on the roof of the Hall,

And, washing a window, her water let fall,

Which frighten'd the mighty, the short, and the tall.

Oh, the clean maid of Westminster!

And, oh, the clean Westminster maid!

Her trickling of water made such a sad noise,

It threw the Court into a horrid surprise;

All feeling alike--alike they all rise.

Oh, the stout hearts of the lawyers!

And, oh, the lawyers' stout hearts!

They thought that the roof was all coming down;

And knowing how much they deserv'd Heaven's frown,

All hasten'd, with loss of wig, band, and gown,

Out of the Court of Westminster,

And out of Westminster Court.

The Serjeants were wounded in limbs, nose, and eye;

Like leaves of the Sibyls their briefs scattered lie

A sight very pleasant to all standers-by.

Oh, the torn robes of the Benchers!

And, oh, the Benchers' torn robes!

For Ruspini's Styptic some half-dozen run;

But the crowd stayed to laugh and enjoy the high fun;

All hop'd the long thread of the Law was now spun.

Oh, what a joy to Old England!

And, oh, to Old England what joy!

But Heaven, to punish this half-ruin'd nation,

Permitted again each to take his old station,

The people to gall with the deepest vexation.

Oh, what a grief to Old England!

And, oh, to Old England what grief!

1785. _Comfort in the Gout._ (See July 1, 1802.) Republished 1802.

_June 28, 1785._ _Vauxhall Gardens._ Engraved by R. Pollard, aquatinted

by F. Jukes. Published by John Raphael Smith.--It will be remembered by

the reader that, in the earlier part of this sketch of _Rowlandson's

Life, Works, and Times_, special reference is made by the artist's

friend and the frequent companion of his adventures, Henry Angelo, to

their expeditions to Vauxhall Gardens to study character. The varied

humours discovered at this popular resort employed Rowlandson's pencil

frequently, as we are told in the _Memoirs_. It seems, on the authority

of those who were most intimate with the caricaturist, and who were

also thoroughly well acquainted with the leading examples of his skill,

that _Vauxhall Gardens_ may be accepted as his _chef d'oeuvre_ in the

general estimation. We can compare it to his drawing of the _Tuileries

Gardens_, which is even fuller of diversified groups.

In the famous picture of _Vauxhall_ we have the Rotunda, a marvellous

construction, built from the designs of an inventive carpenter, a

modest genius, who obtained a certain celebrity for his ingenuity.[27]

'The gilded scallop-shell,' described by Thackeray in the Vauxhall

episode which is introduced in the opening of _Vanity Fair_, was as

it appeared within the writer's recollection, a melancholy, tawdry

substitute for the vanished splendours as noted in Rowlandson's

drawing. A portly lady, standing in front of the orchestra, is

warbling ballads to the highly genteel company, the patrons of the

entertainment; of the performers we are able to offer but scanty

particulars.

[Illustration: COMFORT IN THE GOUT.]

The figure of the fair vocalist is evidently intended for that of Mrs.

Weichsel, a Vauxhall favourite, already mentioned as the mother of

the great Mrs. Billington, the pride of English operatic celebrities.

It was at Mrs. Weichsel's benefit, which Rowlandson attended at 'the

little theatre in the Haymarket,' that our artist produced a sketch of

this musical family. To return to Vauxhall, Angelo and other informants

supply us with a hint or two of the company. Daniel Arrowsmith was

engaged as one of the principal singers, 'where Mrs. Kennedy and that

capital bass, Sedgwick, entertained the public for several seasons.'

Joe Vernon, of Drury Lane Theatre, is mentioned among the performers.

Barthelemon was leader of the band; Fisher played the hautboy; and Mr.

Hook was conductor and composer.

To describe the visitors: the most conspicuous figures, which occupy

the centre of the picture, and are exciting the admiring regards of

the frequenters of Vauxhall scattered around them, are understood

to be intended for the fascinating Duchess of Devonshire and her

sister, Lady Duncannon. Among the 'freaks of folly' recorded by our

invaluable authority Angelo he mentions having frequently 'seen many of

the nobility, particularly the Duchess of Devonshire, &c. (the '&c.'

expressing a whole crowd of fashionable notorieties), with a large

party, supping in the rooms facing the orchestra, French horns playing

to them all the time.'

Captain Topham, the macaroni-scribbler of fashionable intelligence

and genteel scandalmonger to _The World_, a newspaper of which he was

conjointly proprietor, editor, and principal contributor, is standing

upright as a post, dressed in a smart uniform, and quizzing the fair

through his glass. A stout old Commander, stranded on shore, with only

one eye and one leg left from his naval glories, is planted, lost in

admiration, on the Duchess's right. This gallant veteran is understood

to represent Admiral Paisley, the reputed original, according to the

caricaturist, who has drawn his portrait more than once, of '_The Tough

Old Commodore_'--

Why, the bullets and the gout

Have so knocked his hull about,

That he'll never like the sea any more!

A clerical person over the shoulder of Lady Duncannon is a free

rendering, it is hinted, of Bate Dudley, who was the hero of a

somewhat notorious Vauxhall adventure. By the side of the reverend

sable-clad editor of the _Morning Post_ stands a handsome figure,

dressed in full Highland costume, with a veritable claymore under

his arm, of which the bearer was reported to well know the use; this

gentleman's person is reported to be introduced as a compliment

to another editor, James Perry, of the _Morning Chronicle_, who

was, Angelo relates, very expert with the Highland broadsword, its

exercise being his favourite diversion; 'he might be frequently met

at masquerades and places of entertainment, dressed in the costume of

a Highlander, with a party of Scotch lassies, dancing Scotch reels.

For variety of steps, Highland flings, &c., he was particularly noted;

crowds collected round him.'

Another conspicuous group introduces the Prince of Wales, afterwards

George the Fourth, then a sweet youth, whose persuasions were supposed

to be irresistible, and 'whose smile was victory;' he is represented

whispering soft flatteries in the ear of a not unwilling fair, whose

right hand is held captive under the arm of a gentleman, presumably her

better half. This tender situation is reported to indicate a well-known

episode in the career of the Heir Apparent, which, although somewhat

threadbare, still retains an air of romance. 'Prince Florizel,' wearing

his brilliant star on his breast, is addressing himself covertly to the

most conspicuous figure of the party, the captivating Mrs. Robinson by

general acceptation, the graceful _Perdita_, in connection with whom,

as the artist has drawn him, the Prince is said to have

Gazed on the fair

Who caused his care,

And sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again.

The lady is coyly trifling with a trinket suspended by a chain round

her shapely throat, possibly the identical locket affectingly alluded

to by the 'British Sappho' (as not impartial admirers subsequently

dubbed the fair poetess) in her Memoirs; this _gage d'amour_, which

is almost historical in the chronicle of small affections, containing

Prince George's portrait, then a handsome, fine-complexioned youth,

with a profusion of fair hair, as painted in miniature by Meyer, was

presented in an early stage of the flirtation to the lady, through

Lord Malden, the _Leporello_ of the transaction. Within the case of

this tribute of tenderness was a heart, appropriately cut in paper, on

one side of which was inscribed, '_Je ne change qu'en mourant_;' and

on the other, '_Unalterable to my Perdita through life_;' a lover's

protestation which was not remarkably verified by the subsequent

inconstancy of the impressible _Florizel_.

Within a supper-box--one of those grotesque-looking cabinets which

many who have visited the shades of Vauxhall may still bear in vivid

remembrance--is assembled another convivial party, the members

of which have been described--we are inclined to suspect without

any sufficiently valid foundation--as the representatives of an

illustrious and very familiar literary coterie. A stout personage,

in the centre, of massive proportions, has been adopted as a free

rendering of the person of the famous Doctor Johnson, who is pictured

as characteristically intent on his supper, and indifferent alike to

his company and the sprightly society which surrounds his box; seated

in a corner, on the great lexicographer's left, anecdotic Boswell is

shown, pausing, open-mouthed, to catch the good things that may fall

from his eminent leader; Mrs. Thrale, on Johnson's right, is saying

something very pertinent to Oliver Goldsmith, who is endeavouring to

carve the contents of his plate. His stolid features do not express

anything approaching to rapturous appreciation of the accomplished

blue-stocking's extraordinary flow of bewitching conversation.

Before we leave the attractive vicinity of _Vauxhall Gardens_, as its

picturesque humours were noted by an able hand a century ago, we must

offer a few traits of the delightful old haunt and the wicked ways of

its frequenters. Our inexhaustible informant Angelo is considerate

enough to enlighten our more repressive generation on the practices of

the period.

The dashers of the day, instead of returning home in the morning

from Vauxhall, used to repair to the Star and Garter, at Richmond;

and, on some occasions, the madcap excursions were pushed farther.

Angelo mentions a party of which he had formed a member, when, while

crossing Westminster Bridge, the sight of a boat suggested a fresh act

of extravagant frolic, no less than being rowed to the Tower, taking

places, and straightway setting off in the famous hoy for the sea-trip

to Margate, which in those times was quite a journey.

We have already introduced a certain witty and pugilistic divine;

let us avail ourselves of Angelo's remembrances of an incident in

his career, the scene of which belongs to the print we have been

endeavouring to elucidate for our readers. Parson Bate--better known by

this _soubriquet_ than by his later title as Sir Bate Dudley--who was

at the time editor of the _Morning Post_, obtained the nickname of the

_Fighting Parson_, from a memorable affray in Vauxhall Gardens.

The particulars of the _fracas_ are thus related in the

_Reminiscences_:--'Mr. Parson Bate, as magnificent a piece of humanity,

perhaps, as ever walked arm-in-arm with a fashionable beauty in the

illuminated groves of Vauxhall, was promenading and chatting, with the

celebrated Mrs. Hartley,[28] her Woodstock glove gently rubbing against

his sable sleeve; when Mr. Fitzgerald (who was subsequently hanged

in Ireland for certain malpractices), in company with Lord Littleton

and Captain O'Bourne, most ungallantly gave offence to the lady and

her protector by severally turning short round upon her and, with the

most marked rudeness, staring in her face. This offensive behaviour

was resented by Mr. Bate, and, if my memory does not deceive me, he

chastised the offenders on the spot.'

Mr. Bate's paper, _The Morning Post_, obtained much celebrity by the

exposure of the three gentlemen for their rude attack upon a lady. The

_rencontre_ begot a paper war, which was, for some weeks, maintained

with great rancour on both sides; but the superior wit and powerful

satire of Parson Bate were so manifest that his opponents were beaten

out of the literary arena.

'Subsequent proceedings led to a meeting of the parties at a tavern,

where, it seems, some explanation was entered into and an apology was

offered. This, as appeared later on, was a discreditable stratagem on

the part of the aggressors to revenge themselves on this redoubtable

priest, by procuring for him, as they anticipated, a sound drubbing;

they had, however, once more mistaken their man.

'These three confederates met according to appointment, and Mr. Bate

brought his friends too. A strapping spark was then introduced to the

party as Captain----, who had been prompted to insult the pugnacious

reverend, with the hope of provoking him to a personal attack, as at

Vauxhall. This mock captain was a well-known prize-fighter. The parson,

not at all daunted by the insolent threats of the ruffian, fell upon

him, and with his own weapons, so completely thrashed him that he was

taken away almost senseless in a hackney-coach.'

A farewell incident of Vauxhall, and we will leave for good the

precincts memorable in the history of the past. This time we are

carried to the _rendezvous_ with Angelo and his friends in company with

the most incorrigible blades of the town.

'Lord Barrymore's fondness for eccentricities ever engaged his mind.

Whether in London or Wargrave 'twas all the same--always in high

spirits, thinking of what fun he should have during the day. Seated,

after dinner, at eleven o'clock, on one of the hottest evenings in

July, he proposed that the whole party should go to Vauxhall.

'The carriage being ordered, it was directly filled inside; and the

others outside, with more wine than wit, made no little noise through

the streets.

'We had not been long at Vauxhall when Lord Barrymore called out to a

young clergyman, some little distance from us, who, when he approached

and was asked, "Have you had any supper?" to our surprise answered,

"Vy, as how, my lord, I have not as yet had none." A waiter passing by

at the time, Lord Barrymore said, "You know me; let that gentleman have

whatever he calls for;" when he told the parson to fall to, and call

for as much arrack punch as he pleased. "Thank ye, my lord," said he,

"for I begins to be hungry, and I don't care how soon I pecks a bit."

'Lord Barrymore had that morning, unknown to us, contrived to dress

Tom Hooper, the tin-man (one of the first pugilists of that time),

as a clergyman, to be in waiting at Vauxhall, in case we should get

into any dispute. This fistic knight now filled the place of a lackey,

and was constantly behind the carriage, a sworn votary of black eyes

and disfigured faces. His black clothes, formal hat, hair powdered

and curled round, so far disguised him that he was unknown to us all

at first, though Hooper's queer dialect must have soon discovered

him to the waiters. This was a _ruse de guerre_ of Lord Barrymore's.

About three o'clock, whilst at supper, Lord Falkland, Henry Barry,

Sir Francis Molineux, &c., were of our party; there was at this time

a continual noise and rioting, and the arrack punch was beginning to

operate.

'On a sudden all were seen running towards the orchestra, the whole

garden seemed to be in confusion, and our party, all impatience,

sallied out, those at the further end of the box walking over the

table, kicking down the dishes. It seems that the effects of the punch

had not only got into Hooper's head but had excited an influence over

his fists, for he was for fighting with everybody. A large ring was

made, and, advancing in a boxing attitude, he offered to fight anyone;

but all retired before him. Felix McCarthy, a tall, handsome Irishman,

well known by everybody at that time, soon forced his way through the

crowd and collared him, at the same time saying, "You rascal, you

are Hooper, the boxer; if you do not leave the garden this instant

I'll kick you out." The affrighted crowd, who before retreated as

he approached them, now came forward, when Hooper, finding himself

surrounded, and hearing a general cry of "Kick him out!" made his

retreat as fast as possible, thus avoiding the fury of those who would

not have spared him out of the gardens, if he had been caught. We found

him at five in the morning behind Lord Barrymore's carriage, with the

coachman's great-coat on, congratulating himself upon having avoided

the vengeance of those to whom, a short time previously, he had been an

object of fear.'

_July 24, 1785._ _The Slang Society._

_August 11, 1785._ _Introduction._--There is hardly sufficient

authority to warrant the editor in directly ascribing this print

to Rowlandson; the work is evidently early, and very French in the

characteristics of costumes, surroundings, and subject. There are

points in the etched outline and in the general spirit and method of

execution, which lead to the impression that Rowlandson is at least

answerable for the etching and mezzotinting of the design. From the

costumes worn by the figures the date of the subject may be assumed to

be some time before the French Revolution. An overdressed old abbess,

her head and shoulders enveloped in a cardinal, is introducing a French

peer, who is toothless and decrepit, to a tall and fashionably-attired

beauty, who is rising to receive the visitor with an air of dignified

modesty.

[Illustration: AËROSTATION OUT AT ELBOWS, OR THE ITINERANT AËRONAUT.]

_September 5, 1785._ _Aërostation out at Elbows, or the Itinerant

Aëronaut._

_Vincent Lunardi._

Behold a hero, comely, tall, and fair!

His only food is philogistic air!

Now on the wings of mighty winds he rides!

Now torn through hedges! dash'd in ocean tides!

Now drooping roams about from town to town,

Collecting pence to inflate his poor Balloon.

Pity the wight and something to him give,

To purchase gas to keep his frame alive!

1785. _Going, a-going._--A handsome young huntsman has encountered, in

the course of his sport, a pretty country maiden, neatly apparelled,

and beaming with all the freshness of rustic simplicity and

artlessness. Her budding charms are tempting the youth to court the

maiden, to her own manifest embarrassment; meanwhile the gay Lothario's

huntsman is shown in the distance 'going' off with the horses: the

young squire's hunting, as far as the chase of the fox is concerned,

being evidently finished for the day.

1785. _Gone!_

[Illustration: TOO MANY FOR A JEW.]

_September 30, 1785._ _Too Many for a Jew._ Published by S. Alken,

Soho.

_October 1, 1785._ _An Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful._ Published

by T. Cornell, Bruton Street.--A ragged enthusiast, who, as we gather

from the shoe half-thrust into his coat-pocket, combines the cure of

human souls with the cobbling of leather soles, is holding forth to a

devout congregation.

[Illustration: AN ESSAY ON THE SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL.]

The companion print to this caricature is called _The Maiden Speech_,

and represents a Member, on the floor of the House, favouring the

representatives of the people therein assembled with their first

experience of his oratorical powers within the Parliamentary walls.

_October 5, 1785._ _Captain Epilogue_ (Major Topham, Editor of 'The

World') _to the Wells_ (Mrs. Wells). (See March 7, 1786.)

_Col. Topham endeavouring with his Squirt to Extinguish the Genius of

Holman._ (See December 1784.)

To what, O Muse! can I compare

In heaven, water, earth, or air!

The furious Epilogue.

His dress to ape, if ape they can,

Of every fop is now the plan,

And he's alone the vogue.

See to the side-box now he flies,

The optic to his eye applies

To aid his _piercing_ sight;

Whate'er he cannot comprehend

His _fiat_ to the Shades shall send,

And damn to endless night.

Should Holman _Garrick's_ art display,

'Tis twaddle, boreish, damn'd _outré_,

Quite vulgar, unrefin'd;

His Wells and Henderson alone

Possess'd of merit will he own;

To others' worth is blind.

[Illustration: COL. TOPHAM ENDEAVOURING WITH HIS SQUIRT TO EXTINGUISH

THE GENIUS OF HOLMAN.]

The macaroni Col. Topham, held in leading strings by Henderson and Mrs.

Wells, is vainly trying, armed with a critical squirt, to suppress

the rising celebrity of Holman, the actor, and writer for the stage.

Holman, it will be remembered (see life of Rowlandson), was one of the

caricaturist's schoolfellows.

_October 5, 1785._ _Captain Epilogue._ Republished March 7, 1786,

by E. Jackson, 14 Marylebone Street, Golden Square.--The figure of

Captain Topham, (afterwards Colonel) of the _World_ newspaper, of

which he was proprietor, editor, critic, and scandalmonger--the

fashionable intelligencer, _arbiter elegantiarum_, and man of fashion

and gallantry. We find the macaroni soldier and journalist a prominent

personage in the satirical effusions of his time; we recognise him

among Gillray's caricatures as the _Thunderer_ (August 20, 1782), and

later as the _Windmill_, standing forth advocating the interests of

Mrs. Robinson, the _Perdita_ who, deserted by the Prince of Wales,

found, it was hinted, refuge in the championship of _Captain Epilogue_.

In another cartoon Major Topham is bringing his lengthy accounts to

Pitt's pay-table, 'for puffs and squibs,' the literary services which

he had placed at the Ministerial disposal, and directed against the

Whig candidate, Lord John Townshend, during the Westminster Election

(August 14, 1788), which occurred when Lord Hood was appointed to the

Treasury Board. We find the gallant quill attacking merit where it

crossed his partialities, and the present caricature seems designed

to expose the Captain's _tendresse_ for the actress of his choice.

Epilogue is dressed, as he is always represented, in the height of the

latest French fashion, his coat, his stockings, his pumps, his frill

and ruffles, and his wig and queue being the very latest importations

from Paris; a finger-post is pointing to the _Wells_, and the somewhat

suggestive and highly modish figure of the lady is drawn below it.

1785. _A Cully Pillaged._ (Same date as _Comfort in Gout_.)--A

stalwart-looking bully has suddenly burst into an apartment; he has

seized and is securely holding an alarmed individual, whose hat is

thrown off and his wig is knocked awry; his pigtail is rigid with

terror; he is standing on tiptoe, his limbs paralysed with fear, while

a very picturesque-looking Cyprian, with hair and dress in somewhat

dishevelled condition, is deliberately exploring the pockets of the

victim.

1785. _Copper-plate Printers at Work._--This sketch, which is

vastly interesting, is probably drawn from the room in which the

caricaturist's etchings were pulled, an apartment evidently near

the sky. A couple of stalwart printers are hard at work rubbing

ink into the copper-plates. A sturdy workman is turning the press,

while a little oddity of a printer is drawing an impression from the

copper lately under pressure. A connoisseur, in spectacles, of the

old-fashioned type, is holding up a print at arm's length with a deeply

critical expression on his sharp features. Numerous prints are hung up

to dry on lines stretched across the chamber.

_About 1785._ _A Bed-warmer._--Another print, which was published

about this date, bears the name of H. Wigstead as _delt. et fecit_;

but, by a strange anomaly, although a few strokes of the outline here

and there belong to Wigstead's hand, which, from its untutored,

straggling style, is easy of recognition, the figures and filling in

are unmistakably by Rowlandson, who has paid his friend the compliment

of ascribing the entire credit of the composition to his name. The

subject represents a bedchamber; clothes, &c., are scattered about the

room; a venerable libertine, whose bed has evidently been recently

warmed, is endeavouring to retain by her skirt a remarkably handsome

and sprightly-looking chambermaid, whose figure is gracefully expressed

in Rowlandson's most felicitous manner, both as regards ease and

action. The offended nymph is making off with the chamber candle and

the warming-pan, the latter a formidable weapon for the defence of

assaulted virtue.

1785. _Temptation._--A companion plate was executed under the same

auspices, but the name of H. Wigstead in this instance appears as

designer only. It represents a scene of temptation. A decrepit and, as

far as years go, venerable libertine is offering certain proposals to

a pretty and finely-shaped maiden, who is weighing a purse with an air

of indecision, while the vicious dotard is pressing her disengaged hand

and leaning on her shoulder. The chamber is evidently the workroom of

a cobbler; his bench and a pile of shoes in the foreground have been

thrown over by the gambols of a dog and cat. In this case it is easy to

see that if the maiden does not retire from the struggle with unstained

hands, the elderly reprobate, whose crutch is under his arm, will not

come off unscathed, for behind the curtains of the bed, in the shadow

of the apartment, which seems to serve as workroom, kitchen, parlour,

and bedroom in one, appears the half-concealed and brawny person of

the cobbler himself, who is evidently enjoying the prospect of the

vengeance which he is about to let fall on the head of the old sinner.

1785. _Grog on Board._ (See Jan. 1794.) Published by S. W. Fores, 3

Piccadilly.

1786. _Tea on Shore._ (See June 1794.) Published by S. W. Fores, 3

Piccadilly.

_November 24, 1785._ _By Authority Persons and Property Protected._

Published by S. W. Fores.--His Majesty's (G.R.) Royal Mail Coach is

in a quandary; one horse is down, and a second is rearing; the hind

wheel is off; a fair traveller is sent sprawling on the ground in an

attitude which is neither easy nor becoming. An unfortunate passenger

has lost his wig, and in seeking to recover it has become jammed in

the coach-window. The coachman has lost his balance, and the shock is

capsizing his seat; the concussion has discharged the huge blunderbuss

borne by the guard through the letter-bags; the mails, and other

contents are scattered to the winds by the explosion; and, to cap the

misfortune, the lurch has accidentally loosened the trigger of a huge

horse-pistol carried in the guard's belt for extra security, and

the contents are peppering an unfortunate lady who has fallen on the

highway.

_November 28, 1785._ _Doctors Differ._ Published by S. W. Fores, 3

Piccadilly.

_November 30, 1785._ _The Sad Discovery, or the Graceless Apprentice._

Published by J. R. Smith, 83 Oxford Street.

[Illustration: INTRUSION ON STUDY, OR THE PAINTER DISTURBED.]

_November 30, 1785._ _Intrusion on Study, or the Painter Disturbed._

Published by S. W. Fores.--The studio of an artist, who is somewhat of

a macaroni; the painter is hard at his work; on his easel is a classic

subject; the principal figure is drawn from a pretty girl, his model,

who is 'sitting' before him; a squire and a young foxhunter are dashing

in, alike disregardful of the remonstrances of the artist and the

confusion into which their unceremonious entry has thrown his blushing

model, whose nude figure he is endeavouring to block out with his

palette. (Republished July 1, 1802.)

_November 31, 1785._ _Jockeyship._ Published by J. R. Smith, 83 Oxford

Street.--A view of that portion of the racing-ground where the jockeys

are about to mount. Various interested groups are represented as

surrounding the riders, and secret counsel, at the last moment, is

given to jockeys by owners of horses--possibly parting instructions to

ride either a winning or a losing race, as their private arrangements

may require. That the proceedings of the Turf were not perfectly pure

and above the comment of suspicion in the infancy of horse-racing is

indicated by the caricaturist in the last action of 'jockeyship;' the

riders, while shaking hands finally with their owners and backers, are

shown taking care to keep their left hands open behind their backs for

bribes from the other side; this signal is meeting a golden response.

The crowded stand and the racecourse are sketched in the background.

_December 1785._ _An Italian Family._ Rowlandson, delt.; Alken, fecit.

(See 1792.) Published December 1785 by S. Alken, Dufour's Place, Broad

Street, Soho. Sold by W. Hinton, Sweetings Alley, Cornhill.

_A French Family._ Sold by W. Hinton, Sweetings Alley, Cornhill.

(Republished 1792.)

_December 15, 1785._ _Courtship in High Life. Courtship in Low

Life._--A pair of prints designed and executed by Rowlandson in

imitation of drawings, and belonging to the same period as the more

finished and special works which the artist produced published by J.

R. Smith. In the former subject _High Life Courtship_ is represented

in the figure of an elegant young noble--probably meant for the Prince

of Wales--kneeling at the feet of a graceful and charming young lady

of extreme fashion; the portrait exhibits certain indications of

being intended for that of Mrs. Fitzherbert. There is a great deal of

animation and good taste in the composition. The companion print of

_Low Life Courtship_ introduces a British sailor, (who has lost an eye

and gained a wooden leg in the service of his country), pouring out

a bumper of spirits and regarding with a longing eye a careless and

semi-intoxicated-looking damsel, who, in spite of evident symptoms of

dissipation, is represented as buxom, fresh-looking, and well-favoured.

_December 15, 1785._ _City Courtship._

_December 15, 1785._ _Rustic Courtship._ Published by J. R. Smith, 83

Oxford Street. H. Wigstead, del.--Rowlandson has given his unmistakable

characteristics to this plate, which is executed in outline etching,

and filled in in aquatint, in admirable facsimile of the artist's

drawings, washed in Indian ink, and tastefully coloured. A fair cottage

beauty is spinning flax; her wheel is placed outside the cottage-door;

she is being stared at in vacuous admiration by a rustic Colin Clout,

who is grinning from ear to ear and scratching his forehead in

perplexity. Hop-poles are seen in the distance, and the landscape is

one of those pretty country scenes such as may often be seen in England.

_December 1785._ _Filial Affection, or a Trip to Gretna Green._

(Companion to _The Return from Gretna Green, or Reconciliation_.)--This

plate, which is executed in mezzotint, is usually worked up in

imitation of a water-colour drawing--its resemblance to the original

sketch, if judiciously tinted after Rowlandson's drawing, is

sufficiently close to prove deceptive. A post-carriage is tearing

along down hill, on the road to Gretna Green, drawn by four prancing

horses, ridden by a pair of jockeys, and pursued by a posse of mounted

horsemen. The foremost rider, a squire, booted and spurred, is coming

close to the elopers and flourishing his whip revengefully at the

occupants of the chaise; his horse is turned aside by the threatening

attitude of the fugitives. The lady, her feathers flying in the wind,

is leaning out of one window, pointing a formidable pistol at her

parent's head; while the dandified young swain who is the abductor in

this case is pointing a second pistol through the other window. The

rest of the chase are lost in the clouds of dust which the wheels of

the post-chaise are throwing in the rear. One venerable gentleman's hat

and wig are being left far behind, like those of our old friend John

Gilpin.

_December 17, 1785._ _The Reconciliation, or the Return from Scotland._

Published by W. Hinton, 5 Sweetings Alley, Royal Exchange.--The pair

of fugitives we saw in the previous subject are now, like a brace of

repentant turtledoves, returning to the family nest which they had

rashly forsaken. The gallant husband is all submission and civility,

pointing to the tears of his bride as their intercessors to the hearts

of the parents. The father is indicating that a place at his fireside

is still the right of his child; the old footman is joyfully placing

a chair for his young mistress; and the servants, introduced in the

doorway of the apartment, are in ecstasies to see the runaway couple

return and the domestic breach happily repaired.

[Illustration: THE RECONCILIATION, OR THE RETURN FROM SCOTLAND.]

_December 21, 1785._ _Botheration_ (Bar). Published by W. Hunter.

(Engraved by Alken.) Dedicated to the Gentlemen of the Bar.

[Illustration: HARMONY.]

_December 21, 1785._ _The Loss of Eden and Eden Lost._ N.B. 'Every

man has his price.'--_Sir Robert Walpole's politics._ Published by

W. Hinton, 5 Sweetings Alley, Royal Exchange.--This caricature gives

the portraits of two would-be benefactors of their country, who, the

satirist is inclined to hint, were not acting from purely disinterested

motives. General Arnold, dressed in his uniform, and with his sword

drawn, while offering up an invocation to _Liberty_, is one of the

figures; Eden (Lord Auckland) is the other; the patriotic statesman

has also apostrophised _Liberty_, and successfully in this instance,

with his pen; his pocket is well supplied with those good things which

have fallen to his share--'6,000_l._ _per annum_,' '_Commissioner to

America_,' '_Commercial Negociator to France_.'

Two patriots in the self-same age were born,

And both alike have gain'd the public scorn:

This to America did much pretend,

The other was to Ireland a friend.

Yet sword or oratory would not do,

As each had different plans in view.

America lost! Arnold, and, alas!

To lose our Eden now is come to pass.

1785. _Sympathy, or a Family on a Journey laying the Dust._ Designed

and etched by T. Rowlandson. Published by W. Humphrey.--The halt of a

coach on the road. The occupants have descended, and the coachman and

footman, horses, &c., are occupied as described by the title.

[Illustration: TASTES DIFFER.]

1785. _John Gilpin's Return to London._ Aquatinta by F. Jukes.

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went Postboy at his heels,

The Postboy's horse right glad to miss

The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road,

Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With Postboy scamp'ring in the rear,

They rais'd the hue and cry:

'Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!'

Not one of them was mute;

So they, and all that pass'd that way,

Soon join'd in the pursuit.

1785. _Harmony--Discord._ A pair of contrasts.--_Harmony_ is a

remarkably graceful example of the artist's skill in indicating

pleasing forms and easy, flowing outlines. The warrior, we presume, is

relaxing the stern front of Mars by the practice of the softer arts,

and is seated at the side of a fair companion, who is holding her

hero's music-book on her lap.

1785. _Effects of Harmony._ (Companion to the above.)

1785. _Tastes Differ._--An antiquated individual, evidently

a connoisseur of old prints, dressed in his morning cap and

dressing-gown, is buried in the study of a large folio spread before

him; all his admiration is absorbed in his hobbies, to the neglect of

a young and pretty woman by his side, who is consoling herself, in

dreams, for the neglect with which as the plate seems to hint, the

superannuated spouse is treating the charms of her company and person.

[Illustration: NAP IN THE COUNTRY.]

1785. _Nap in the Country. Nap in Town._ Published by S. Alken,

Dufour's Place, Soho.--_A Nap in the Country_ represents the mid-day

rest of a rustic pair, who, while their sheep are calmly grazing and

their dog is keeping faithful watch, are, beneath the shadows of

spreading trees, indulging in 'forty winks' in the open country, after

their early morning toils.

[Illustration: NAP IN TOWN.]

A _Nap in Town_, which may also be taken as an afternoon siesta, though

equally luxurious, is not enjoyed under such healthy conditions as the

preceding; the town pair are taking their repose with as much lazy

ease as the circumstances will permit.

[Illustration: SEA AMUSEMENT, OR COMMANDERS-IN-CHIEF OF CUP AND BALL ON

A CRUISE.]

1785. _Sea Amusement, or Commanders-in-Chief of Cup and Ball on a

Cruise._--It appears from this print, which in the coloured editions is

judiciously tinted to make it resemble a drawing, that the inactivity

of our commanders at sea was attracting popular censure. In the plate

we find the admiral and his commodore, instead of sweeping the foes

of Britain from the ocean, as was the desire of the entire nation,

seated in the state-cabin, with a pile of gold-pieces on the ground,

devoting their energies to gambling with a child's toy. Scattered

around and trodden upon unheeded are plans of fortifications to be

bombarded, the charts of oceans to be navigated, and rough draughts for

the arrangement of the ships at the beginning of a sea-fight, such as

we find Nelson drew up for the guidance of his captains before going

into action on the eve of his glorious victories. An old salt, who

is pouring out tea for these degenerate warriors, is regarding their

puerile dispositions with an air of disgust and distress.

_December 26, 1785._ _French Travelling, or the First Stage from

Calais._

_December 26, 1785._ _English Travelling, or the First Stage from

Dover._

[Illustration: OPERA BOXES.]

[Illustration: OPERA BOXES.]

1785. (?) _Opera Boxes.

1786.

_January 1, 1786._ _The Supplemental Magazine._ Published January 1,

1786, by S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly.

_January 1, 1786._ _Private Amusement._ (See October 28, 1781), _E. O.

or the Fashionable Vowels_.

[Illustration: BOX-LOBBY LOUNGERS.]

_January 5, 1786._ _Box-Lobby Loungers._ Designed by H. Wigstead;

etched by Rowlandson; published January 5, 1786, by J. R. Smith, 83

Oxford Street.--The diversities of character introduced into this

drawing, which is one of Rowlandson's larger productions, entitle it to

a prominent place in a collection of the artist's works. Glimpses of

the theatre are seen through the open doors. In the coloured editions

of this plate, which is scarce and valuable, the most conspicuous

figure is that of a military hero, the adventurous Colonel George

Hanger (afterwards Lord Coleraine), companion and instigator of the

Prince of Wales's early frolics; well known to the satirists, and in

short one of the notorieties of his generation. This inveterate 'man

about town' is shown with his invariable companion, christened by

the eccentric Colonel, who rejoiced in a vocabulary of his own, his

'_Supple-Jack_,' a thick stick carried under his arm; the gallant

lounger, who has left the world a volume of eccentric _Memoirs_,

with his _Advice to Lovely Ciprians_ by way of Appendix, is lost in

admiration of two highly attractive nymphs, possible members of the

'Sisterhood;' while Georgey Hanger's truant eyes are engaged in the

contemplation of the personal charms of these butterflies of fashion,

the hand of a pickpocket is equally ready to carry off the Colonel's

seals from his fob, as a souvenir of the _rencontre_. On the right of

the ubiquitous hero another pair of lovely damsels, displaying the

follies of the mode in their attire, are attracting the somewhat marked

attentions of a circle of elderly admirers. A dwarfed and deformed

beau, elaborately dressed in the French fashion, probably designed for

the figure of Sir Lumley Skeffington, who was the authority, among the

_bucks_ and '_fashionables_' of his day, on theatrical matters, is

getting into trouble by the awkwardness into which his near sight and

his gallantry are combining to betray him; the train of an antiquated

belle is coming to grief through the clumsiness of _The Skeffington_.

The lady, whose native charms, in their decay, are considerably

heightened by art, has evidently availed herself of her fortune to

secure a handsome dandified young cavalier; two sturdy old retired sea

captains are contemplating the '_Skittish Skeffy_,' and his monkey-like

escapades with expressions of profound contempt. A superannuated man

of quality, a venerable _beau_ of scarecrow aspect, is foppishly

cultivating the good graces of a dashing 'girl of the period;' while

two extraordinary Don Juans, who, judging from their exteriors, would

not be suspected of engaging themselves in amorous intrigues, are

enlisting the friendly offices of a comfortable old body, who unites

the twin occupations of selling oranges and play-bills, with the

manipulation of delicate negociations, a recognised and experienced

ambassadress, in fact, to the court of Cytherea, duly credentialised,

and, as far as appearances can be relied on, a thoroughly discreet

and capable person in her profession. A play-bill, adhering to the

green-baize-covered walls of the Lobby, is intended to apply to the

situation of the frivolous habitués who are haunting the crowded

lounge--'_The Way of the World_,' and '_Who's the Dupe?_' Beyond the

main groups we have particularised, there are numerous individuals

scattered about, probably well-known characters in their generation,

whose persons and portraits were doubtless familiarly recognised at the

date Rowlandson favoured his contemporaries with this suggestive view

of their private amusements in the _Box Lobbies_.

_January 13, 1786._ _Love and Learning, or the Oxford Scholar._ Drawn

by Rowlandson. Engraved and published by B. Smith, 10 Pleasant Row,

Battle Bridge.--A print engraved in somewhat peculiar style as an

attempted _facsimile_ after the original drawing. The subject is an

undergraduate, who is leading a tall and graceful female tastefully

dressed in white, through a wood; the cavalier is pointing out the

beauties of the scene; the face of a forsaken lady, wearing a malignant

expression, appears from the concealment afforded by the forest shade.

Beauty invites, and love and learning plead;

The Oxford scholar surely must succeed.

Yet oh! ye blooming, soft inclining fair,

Of his too fatal eloquence beware;

For see, a slighted fair one is behind,

With jealous eye and most distracted mind!

_February 10, 1786._ _Sketch of politics in Europe January 24, 1786._

_Birthday of the King of Prussia._ _Toasts upon the occasion._ '_King

of Prussia_,' '_King of Great Britain_,' '_The Berlin Union_,'

'_Confusion to the Bavarian Project_,' '_The Wooden Walls of Old

England_,' '_The Illustrious House of Brunswick and Wolfenbuttel_,'

'_Destruction to the French Interest in Holland, and prosperity to

the House of Orange_,' '_May the British Lion and the Prussian Eagle

remain united for times everlasting_,' '_May the United strength of the

British Lion and the Prussian Eagle preserve the Ancient Constitution

of the German Empire, and the Protestant interest_,' '_May Universal

Monarchy, the bane of Human Nature, for ever remain a baseless

vision!_' This general view of the political prospects of Europe is

pictorially set forth in the fashion of an escutcheon, representing

the two Protestant monarchs under a pavilion, and seated side by side

on one throne--a Prussian grenadier behind the Great Frederick, and

a British sailor behind George the Third. Frederick is holding the

double-headed eagle of Austria in golden fetters, with his feet on the

motto _Universal Monarchy_. The names of the various German States,

Hanover, Brunswick, Hesse, Saxony, Deuxpont, and Mayence, are on two

shields at the sides of the pavilion. The reigning Duke of Brunswick,

and Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, are standing on either side of

the monarchs in the centre, as supporters, with their hands on their

swords; both are declaring to 'the twin Protestant heroes,' 'When you

agree, I am ready.' The neighbouring States are variously symbolised.

The Prince of Orange is praying for protection; Holland is figured as

a milch cow, of which France is monopolising the produce; and above,

a monkey, with the Crown and Insignia of France, has perched on the

globe, and is pointing his claw to Holland. Busts of the reigning

monarchs are ranged around. Denmark 'lays by' for the present; Sweden

is 'in the pay of France;' Portugal is crying, 'Oh! buy my wine;' Spain

wants 'the Rock;' Sardinia is declaring, 'You shall not settle without

me!' The Polish Bear, who is announcing that he 'is not muzzled,' is

standing between Russia and the Sultan of Turkey; the latter is hurling

defiances at Catherine, 'By the great prophet thou art but a woman!'

Russia, as a crowned beast of prey, is 'tortured by ambition, and

backed by Brother Joseph.'

_March 6, 1786._ _La Négligé._ Designed by '_Simplex Mundities_.'

Published by S. W. Fores.

_March 7, 1786._ _Captain Epilogue_, published by E. Jackson, 14

Marylebone Street.--The macaroni editor's portrait, as described in the

previous print (October 25, 1785), with the addition of a notice-board,

introduced above the post which points _To the Wells,--A Prospectus for

the 'World and Fashionable Advertiser.'_

_March 7, 1786._ _An Ordnance Dream, or Planning of Fortifications_,

published by S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly.--The Duke of Richmond--who,

perhaps in some degree on account of his partial French extraction,

and his left-handed Stuart descent, did not enjoy unmixed popularity,

was constantly brought into ridicule, with which the satirists met

his abortive fortification schemes, and a certain gun, of his own

construction, reputed of leather, which it is said he was anxious to

introduce.

[Illustration: AN ORDNANCE DREAM, OR PLANNING OF FORTIFICATIONS.]

The caricaturist has represented the distinguished Master-General

of Ordnance, an insipid edition of _Uncle Toby_, as the Duke was

frequently nick-named. The Duke is in his study, fast asleep in his

arm-chair, surrounded by his novel experiments. His foot is resting

on the 'Trial of Colonel Debbeig.' A case of fresh ammunition, in the

form of tobacco pipes, is lying by his side, and a number of rolled

up plans of the projected fortifications are thrown about the place.

On the walls are a pair of views on the subject of the proposed

fortifications; one picture represents the bare ground, with labourers

and wheel-barrows, and the skeletons of a projected fleet; the second

view gives the fortifications under the state of their imaginary

completion, furnished with guns and ammunition, and duly manned, with a

bulwark of our wooden walls beyond. The solid and assuring conditions

of the preparations on paper are badly sustained in practice. A pile of

card-houses, disposed round the study-table, do duty for fortresses;

broken pipe-bowls and stems take the place of stoneworks and guns. An

empty decanter accounts for the Duke's faith in this imaginary system

of protection. A cat is clawing at the table-cloth, and threatening

the total destruction of the projected defences at one swoop; she is

mounted on the muzzle of a sample gun of the problematical leathern

ordnance, of which, rumour asserted, the Duke of Richmond had ordered a

snuff-box maker to supply him patterns. In the struggles in Parliament,

where the Duke's plans were the subject of vexed discussion, more

stress was laid on his political apostasy than upon the inefficiency

of his propositions, patriotism in the senate being subordinated at all

times to the workings of party, and the intrigues for political power.

[Illustration: LUXURY.]

[Illustration: MISERY.]

_March 7, 1786._ _Luxury--Misery._ Published by E. Jackson, 14

Marylebone Street, Golden Square.--The luxury of a breakfast in bed

on downy pillows, surrounded by all the allurements of ease and

other superfluities, is contrasted with the _Misery_ of perishing

of starvation and thirst on the wide ocean, with nothing but a mast

between the frozen unfortunates and a watery grave, and no object of

relief on the bare horizon to suggest a ray of hope to the solitary

sufferers.

_March 8, 1786._ _The Morning Dram._ Published by J. Phillips, 164

Piccadilly.--The toilette of a lady whose tastes are, to say the least

of them, slightly inclined to the social glass; while her French

hair-dresser is attending to her luxuriant locks, the fair, free and

easy divinity is not too ethereal to decline recruiting her spirits

with a cordial.

[Illustration: THE MORNING DRAM.]

_March 1786._ _The Polish dwarf_ (Count Boruwloski) _performing before

the Grand Seigneur_. Published by E. Jackson, 14, Marylebone Street.

The famous Count Boruwloski visited nearly all the courts of

Europe, where he was made the most of on account of his remarkable

diminutiveness, as at the age of twenty his height was but two feet

four inches. This Polish miniature man differed from dwarfs in general,

as his figure was well-proportioned, and he further possessed perfect

breeding, was intellectual, good-natured, and accomplished, and, among

other gifts, enjoyed a talent for music, which he had cultivated. His

memoirs, written by himself, first appeared in 1788; he lived to

the advanced age of ninety-eight, he was born at Chaliez, in Russian

Poland, November 1739; he died at Banks' Cottage, near Durham (the

gift, it is said, of some of the prebendaries of Durham Cathedral),

September 13, 1837.

The artist, who had an opportunity of studying this duodecimo edition

of humanity from the life, has represented Count Boruwloski in the act

of favouring that mysterious potentate, the Grand Seigneur, with a tune

on the violin, within the sacred and unapproachable precincts (as far

as mankind is concerned) of the harem. The contrast presented between

this perfect miniature and the full-blown and highly developed beauties

of the seraglio, the overfed Grand Turk, and his gigantic guards, is

ludicrously marked.

[Illustration: THE POLISH DWARF (COUNT BORUWLOSKI) PERFORMING BEFORE

THE GRAND SEIGNEUR.]

_April 1, 1786._ _The Dying Patient, or the Doctor's Last Fee._

Published by H. Brookes, Coventry Street.

1786. _Brewer's Drays._ Published by E. Jackson, 14, Marylebone Street,

Golden Square.--An unusually careful sketch--for Rowlandson--of the

interior of the premises of a certain great brewer, most probably

those of the renowned Mr. Whitbread, in Chiswell Street, visited in

state by their gracious Majesties about this period, when the Royal

condescension was made the subject of the famous ode by Peter Pindar--

Full of the art of brewing beer,

The monarch heard of Whitbread's fame;

Quoth he unto the queen: 'My dear, my dear,

Whitbread hath got a marvellous great name.

Charly, we must, must, must see Whitbread brew

Rich as us, Charly, richer than a Jew.

Shame! shame! we have not yet his brewhouse seen!'

Thus sweetly said the king unto the queen.

* * * * *

Now did the king for other beers inquire,

For Calvert's, Jordan's, Thrale's entire;

And after talking of these different beers,

Asked Whitbread if his porter equalled theirs--

A kind of question to the Man of Cask

That even Solomon himself would ask.

[Illustration: BREWER'S DRAYS.]

1786. _Contrasts: Youth and Age._--An exceedingly witch-like looking

elderly female is endeavouring to entertain a young beauty with some

piece of news from a paper, to which the maiden, it appears, is most

indolently indifferent.

[Illustration: CONTRASTS--YOUTH AND AGE.]

1786 (?). _Sailors Carousing._--A bacchanalian scene, picturing the

diversions of salts on shore in the days when tars indulged in such

jocularities as frying gold watches, and eating one-pound Bank Notes

on bread and butter. The 'Pollies from Portsmouth' have evidently

exceeded the bonds of strict moderation in their applications to the

punch-bowl. A Dutch skipper is calmly smoking and drinking himself into

philosophic stupidity, regardless of the uproar proceeding around him,

of singing, shouting, and fiddling, in drunken discordance.

[Illustration: SAILORS CAROUSING.]

1786 (?). _The Return from Sport._--A bold and well-executed etching,

to which a further interest is added by Rowlandson's easy and

flowing touch, of a rustic subject in Morland's manner. The results

of the morning's sport are chiefly remarkable for their ludicrous

insignificance.

[Illustration: THE RETURN FROM SPORT.]

_May, 1786._ _A Theatrical Chymist._--We have already seen the

genius of Holman, who was, as we have noticed, at school with the

Caricaturist, rising like the sun as represented by Rowlandson's

pencil and graver: we now find the satirist giving his alliance to

the other side, although the former print, _Topham endeavouring with

his squirt to extinguish the rising genius of Holman_, was being

reissued. Probably the success on one side induced the artist--who, we

presume, sought only to exercise his art, and was not inconvenienced

by party prejudices--to try and make as fair a counter-hit as

we so often find him doing. The figure of Holman, a mean and by no

means imposing-looking personage, is issuing from a still, together

with a discharge of 'puffs,' &c. The _Theatrical Chymist_ is a

clerical-looking worthy, our old friend Parson Bate, who is employing

a decayed military buck, in tattered regimentals, seated on a pile of

paper, to fan the furnace _Academy_ with the _Morning Post_ bellows;

the materials, from which the actor Holman is being distilled, are

_Ignorance_, _Impertinence_, _Coxcomity_, _Misconception_, _Raving_,

_Ranting_, _Grinning_, _Snarling_, _Tortured Attitudes_, _Envy_,

_Detraction_.

1786. _A Box-Lobby Hero. The Branded Bully, or the Ass stripp'd of the

Lion's Skin._--The incident which forms the subject of this plate is

now forgotten, but it appears some overgrown and swaggering personage

had constituted himself the tyrant of the box lobbies. The old fable

of the Ass in the Lion's skin is verified. Although a head and a half

taller than any of those present, the _Branded Bully_ is allowing a

mere dwarf to pull his enormous pigtail, and kick him. The ladies are

jeering at the discomfitted swaggerer, who, it seems, is in such abject

fear that he is suffering all sorts of indignities without attempting

to resent them.

_May 6, 1786._ _More of Werter. The Separation. Charlotte preserved

from destruction by Albert and Hymen, whilst Werter in the excess of

frenzy puts an end to his existence._ Designed by Collings, etched by

Rowlandson, published by E. Jackson, Marylebone Street.--The last scene

of Werter's tragedy is represented as taking place on the brink of a

precipice. The adolescent divinity Hymen, in whose path flowers are

strewn, is conducting Charlotte away from the fate which is hanging

over her lover; Hymen's torch is interposed between them, and his

hand is on the matrimonial chain by which Charlotte is bound to her

faithful husband, about whose head is a vision of antlers. Charlotte

is hurried off in despair. As to the hero of the story, he is writhing

about in a passionate paroxysm, a serpent is stinging him, a death's

head looms above his own, the suicide is grasping a pistol in each

hand, and a devil with a scourge of snakes and a vial of poison, is

pouring the fatal potion over his head like Macassar oil, of which his

locks, like a Turk's head broom, standing bolt on end with excitement,

do not appear to have any need.

[Illustration: COVENT GARDEN THEATRE.]

_July 20, 1786._ _Covent Garden Theatre._ Published by H. Brookes,

Coventry Street.--An interior of the old theatre filled on all sides

with a diversified and appreciative audience. The etching is made with

a bold free point, and from its ease and simplicity bears the closest

resemblance possible to the artist's original outlines, drawn with his

famous reed pen, in the facile exercise of which Rowlandson attained

peculiar excellence.

_September 1, 1786._ _Outré Compliments._

_October 1, 1786._ _The Jovial Crew._ Published by S. W. Fores, 3,

Piccadilly.--This print, which is somewhat suggestive of Rowlandson's

manner, has evidently lost much in the engraving, which is due to

another hand. The group consists of a brace of jolly mariners--probably

intended for captain and mate--whose characteristics are somewhat of

the Dutch skipper type, in company with a black sailor, who is holding

a punch-bowl, and is seated on a coil of rope on the deck of the vessel.

1786. _A Visit to the Uncle._ Published by E. Jackson, Marylebone

Street. (See 1794.)

_A Visit to the Aunt._ Published by E. Jackson, Marylebone Street. (See

1794.)

1786. _The Wood Eater (Fox)._ (See December 20, 1788.)

_Illustrations_ to poems by Peter Pindar, 1786-92. Printed for G.

Kearsley at the Johnson's Head, 46, Fleet Street.

_Peter's Prophecy, or the President and Poet_;

OR AN IMPORTANT EPISTLE TO SIR JOSEPH BANKS ON THE APPROACHING ELECTION

OF A PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY.

BY PETER PINDAR.

_The Banquet Scene: a Repast of the Acclimitative Order._

SIR J. BANKS (_loquitur_).

Zounds! ha'nt I swallow'd raw flesh like a hound?

On vilest reptiles rung the changes round?

Eat every filthy insect you can mention;

Tarts made of grasshoppers, my own invention?

Frogs, tadpoles by the spoonful, long-tail'd imps,

And munch'd cockchaffers just like prawns or shrimps?

Hell seize the pack! unconscionable dogs!

Snakes, spiders, beetles, chaffers, tadpoles, frogs,

All swallow'd to display what man can do--

And must the villains still have something new?

Tell, then, each pretty President creator--

Confound him--that I'll eat an alligator.

PICTURESQUE BEAUTIES OF BOSWELL.

'Part the First, containing ten prints, designed and etched by two

capital artists' (Collings and Rowlandson). 'Published in May, 1786, by

E. Jackson, 14 Marylebone Street, Golden Square.

'To any serious criticism or ludicrous banter to which my journal may

be liable, I shall never object, but receive both the one and the other

with perfect good humour.'--_Vide_ Boswell's Letter in the _Public

Advertiser_ of March 10, 1786.

1. _Frontispiece._--Representing General Paoli, Dr. Johnson, and the

Journalist practising his celebrated imitations.

Ursa Major and the General are drawing the elated advocate in a

go-cart, which bears his initial, with a fool's cap worn over an

advocate's wig. The Journalist has bells to his Scotch bonnet, a pen

behind his ear, a portrait of Bruce, his reputed ancestor, round his

neck, a rattle is in his hand, while his publications, _Journal to the

Hebrides_, and _Corsica_, are by his side; he is indulging his famous

imitation of a '_Moo, oah_' cow (see plate 10, vol. ii). 'All hail,

Dalblair! Hail to thee, Laird of Auckinleck.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 38.

2. _The Journalist, with a view of Auckinleck or the Land of Stones._

Bozzy is shown strutting with his short legs very wide apart, posed for

the heroic, with a plaid blowing over his shoulder, a feather in his

bonnet, an ink-bottle at his button-hole, and an advocate's wig and

bands: a bulky manuscript, 'Materials for the Life of Samuel Johnson,

LL.D.,' is serving as his buckler, and the _Journal_ is flourished as a

claymore. _Ogden on Prayer_ is in his pocket.

'I am, I flatter myself, completely a "Citizen of the World." In my

travels through Holland, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Corsica, France,

I have never felt myself from home; and I sincerely love every kindred,

and tongue, and people, and nation'--(p. 11).

'My great-grandfather, the husband of Countess Veronica, was Alexander,

Earl of Kincardine. From him the blood of Bruce flows in my veins;

of such ancestry who would not be proud, and glad to seize a fair

opportunity to let it be known?'--_Vide Journal_, p. 16.

3. _The Embrace at Boyd's Inn._

'On Saturday, August 14, 1773, late in the evening I received a

note from Dr. Johnson that he was arrived at Boyd's Inn at the

head of the Cannongate; I went to him directly. He embraced me

cordially, and I exulted in the thought that I now actually had him in

Caledonia.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 12.

4. _Walking up the High Street, Edinburgh._

'Dr. Johnson and I walked arm in arm up the High Street to my house

in James's Court. It was a dusky night, I could not prevent his being

assailed by the evening effluvia of Edinburgh.

'As we marched along he grumbled in my ear, "I smell you in the

dark."'--_Vide Journal_, p. 13.

5. _Tea at the Journalist's House in James's Court._

'My wife had tea ready for him, which it is well known he delighted

to drink at all hours, particularly when sitting up late. He showed

much complacency that the mistress of the house was so attentive to

his singular habit, and as no man could be more polite when he chose

to be so, his address to her was most courteous and engaging, and his

conversation soon charmed her into a forgetfulness of his external

appearance.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 14.

6. _Chatting 'till two o'clock in the Morning._

'We talked of murder, and of the ancient trial by duel. We sat till

near two in the morning, having chatted a good while after my wife left

us. She had insisted that, to show all respect to the sage, she would

give up our own bedroom to him, and take a worse. This I cannot but

gratefully mention as one of a thousand obligations which I owe her

since that great obligation of her being pleased to accept of me as her

husband.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 15.

7. _Veronica, a Breakfast Conversation._

'Dr. Johnson was pleased with my daughter Veronica, then a child

about four months old. She had the appearance of listening to him.

His motions seemed to her to be intended for her amusement, and when

he stopped she fluttered, and made a little infantine noise, and a

kind of signal for him to begin again. She would be held close to him,

which was a proof, from simple nature, that his figure was not horrid.

Her fondness for him endeared her still more to me, and I declared

she should have five hundred pounds of additional fortune.'--_Vide

Journal_, p. 17.

8. _Wit and Wisdom making preparations for dinner._

'We gave him as good a dinner as we could. Our Scotch wild-fowl

or grouse were then abundant, and quite in season; and so far as

wisdom and wit can be aided by administering agreeable sensations

to the palate, my wife took care that our great guest should not be

deficient.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 123.

9. _Setting out from Edinburgh on the Tour._

'Wednesday, August 18. On this day we set out from Edinburgh, attended

only by my man, Joseph Ritter, a Bohemian, a fine stately fellow, above

six feet high, who had been over a great part of Europe, and spoke many

languages. He was the best servant I ever saw. Let not my readers

disdain his introduction, for Doctor Johnson gave him this character:

"Sir, he is a civil man, and a wise man." My wife did not seem quite

easy when we left her, but away we went.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 47.

[Illustration: SCOTTIFYING THE PALATE AT LEITH.]

10. _Scottifying the Palate at Leith._

'I bought some speldings, fish salted and dried in a particular manner,

being dipped in the sea and dried in the sun, and eaten by the Scots by

way of relish. He had never seen them, though they are sold in London.

I insisted on Scottifying his palate, but he was very reluctant. With

difficulty I prevailed with him. He did not like it.'--_Vide Journal_,

p. 50.

I see thee stuffing, with a hand uncouth,

An old dry'd whiting in thy Johnson's mouth;

And, lo! I see, with all his might and main,

Thy Johnson spit the whiting out again. PETER PINDAR.

Second Volume. Same title as the first part.

1. _Frontispiece. Revising for the Second Edition, under the inspection

of a learned friend._

'Having found, on a revision of this work, that a few observations had

escaped me, the publication of which might be considered as passing the

bounds of strict decorum, I immediately ordered that they should be

omitted in the present edition.'

Let Lord M'Donald threat thy breech to kick,[29]

And o'er thy shrinking shoulders shake his stick;

Treat with contempt the menace of this Lord--

'Tis Hist'ry's province, Bozzy, to record.

Vide _Poetical Epistle to Jas. Boswell, Esq._, by PETER PINDAR, Esq.

2. _The Procession to St. Leonard's College. St. Andrews._

'After supper we made a procession to Saint Leonard's College, the

landlord walking before us with a candle, and the waiter with a

lantern.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 54.

3. _The Vision at Lord Errol's. Slain's Castle._

'I had an elegant room, but there was a fire in it that blazed; and the

sea, to which my windows looked, roared; and the pillows were made of

some seafowls' feathers, which had to me a disagreeable smell, so that

by all these causes I was kept awake a good time. I saw in imagination

Lord Errol's father, Lord Kilmarnock (who was beheaded on Tower Hill in

1740), and I was somewhat dreary, but the thought did not last long,

and I fell asleep.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 110.

4. _Lodging at Mr. M'Queen's, in Glenmorison: the celebrated Spider

Scene._

'There were two beds in the room, and a woman's gown was hung on a rope

to make a curtain of separation between them.... Doctor Johnson fell

asleep immediately; I was not so fortunate for a long time. I fancied

myself bit by innumerable vermin under the clothes, and that a spider

was travelling from the wainscot towards my mouth. At last I fell into

insensibility.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 153.

5. _Reconciliation at Glenelg, after the Journalist had ridden away

from Ursa Major._

'I resumed the subject of my leaving him on the road, and endeavoured

to defend it better. He was still violent upon that head. I had slept

ill; Dr. Johnson's anger had affected me much. I considered that,

without any bad intention, I might suddenly forfeit his friendship,

and was impatient to see him this morning. I told him how uneasy he

had made me by what he had said. He owned he had spoken to me in

passion, and that he would not have done what he had threatened, and

added, "Let's think no more on't."--Boswell: "Well, then, sir, I shall

be easy. Remember, I am to have fair warning in case of any quarrel.

You are never to spring a mine upon me. It was absurd in me to believe

you." Johnson: "You deserved about as much as to believe me from night

to morning."'--_Vide Journal_, p. 164.

6. _Highland Dance on the top of Dun-Can._

'Old Mr. Malcolm McCleod, who had obligingly promised to accompany me,

was at my bedside between five and six. I sprang up immediately, and

he and I, attended by the two other gentlemen, traversed the country

during the whole of this day. Though we had passed over not less than

four-and-twenty miles of very rugged ground, and had a Highland dance

on the top of Dun-Can, the highest mountain in the island, we returned

in the evening not at all fatigued, and piqued ourselves at not being

outdone at the nightly ball by our less active friends who had remained

at home.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 192.

7. _The Recovery, after a severe drunken frolic at Corrichatachin._

'I awaked at noon, with a severe headache; I was much vexed I should

have been guilty of such a riot, and afraid of a reproof from Dr.

Johnson. About one he came into my room and accosted me, "What, drunk

yet!". When I rose I went into Dr. Johnson's room, and taking up Mrs.

McKinnon's Prayer-book, I opened it at the twentieth Sunday after

Trinity, in the Epistle for which I read: "And be not drunken with

wine, wherein there is excess." Some would have taken this as a divine

interposition.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 318.

At Corrichatachin's, the Lord knows how,

I see thee, Bozzy, drunk as David's sow,

And begging, with rais'd eyes and lengthen'd chin,

Heav'n not to damn thee for the deadly sin.

PETER PINDAR'S _Epistle_.

8. _Sailing among the Hebrides,--the Journalist holding a rope's-end._

'As I saw them all busy doing something, I asked Col with much

earnestness what I could do. He with a happy readiness put into my

hand a rope which was fixed to the top of one of the masts, and told

me to hold it till he bid me pull. If I had considered the matter I

might have seen that this could not be of the least service, but his

object was to keep me out of the way of those who were busy working

the vessel, and at the same time to divert my fear by employing me and

making me think that I was of use. Thus did I stand firm to my post,

while the wind and the rain beat upon me, always expecting a call to

pull my rope.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 349.

9. _The Contest at Aucklinleck, in which Ursa Major made a severe

retort on the Journalist's father._

'The contest began whilst my father was showing him his collection of

medals; and Oliver Cromwell's coin unfortunately introduced Charles

the First and Toryism; in the course of their altercation Whiggism and

Presbyterianism, Toryism and Episcopacy, were terribly buffeted.

'They became exceedingly warm and violent, and I was very much

distressed at being present at such an altercation between two men,

both of whom I reverenced; yet I durst not interfere. It would

certainly be very unbecoming in me to exhibit my honoured father and

my respected friend as intellectual gladiators for the entertainment

of the public; and therefore I suppress what would, I daresay, make an

interesting scene in this dramatic sketch--this account of the transit

of Johnson over the Caledonian hemisphere.'--_Vide Journal_, p. 482.

10. _Imitations at Drury Lane Theatre by the Journalist._

'At Mr. Tyler's I happened to tell that one evening, a great many

years ago, when Dr. Hugh Blair and I were sitting together in the pit

of Drury Lane playhouse, in a wild freak of youthful extravagance I

entertained the house _prodigiously_ by imitating the lowing of a cow.

I was so successful in this boyish frolic that the universal cry of the

galleries was, "_Encore_ the cow! _Encore_ the cow!" In the pride of

my heart I attempted imitations of some other animals, but with very

inferior effect. My reverend friend, anxious for my fame, with an air

of the utmost gravity and earnestness addressed me thus: "My dear sir,

I would _confine_ myself to the _cow_!"

'A little while after I had told this story I differed from Dr.

Johnson, I suppose too confidently, upon some point which I now forget.

He did not spare me. "Nay, sir (said he), if you cannot talk better as

a man, I'd have you bellow like a cow."'

FOOTNOTES:

[27] 'The present Orchestra (1809) was first exhibited to the public

on the 2nd June, 1735. It was built by an ingenious mechanic, named

Maidman, a common carpenter employed in the gardens, from a design

of his own. The composition with which it is ornamented was also

his own discovery. This elegant orchestra is calculated to contain

fifty performers, with an organ, &c. It is illuminated by about four

thousand lamps, and presents an object of unparalleled brilliance. The

same ingenious artisan erected the rotunda, which is seventy feet in

diameter, and represents a magnificent pavilion. Within it is placed

another orchestra, where the musical part of the entertainment is

performed in unfavourable weather. Adjoining the saloon, with its

_scagliola_ columns, and its paintings by Hayman, is a supper room, one

hundred feet long and forty feet wide, with a double row of columns.

On the walls are represented paintings of rural scenery, which answer

to the intercolumniations. At the end of the room was the statue of

Handel, in white marble, and in the character of Orpheus singing to his

lyre; but it is now removed behind the orchestra in the garden. This

fine piece of sculpture first introduced the abilities of Roubiliac to

the notice of the public. It was begun and completed in the place of

which it was the ornament, while the noble subject and the superior

artist were enjoying the friendly and protecting hospitality of Mr.

Jonathan Tyers, who purchased the place in 1730, and opened it with an

attractive entertainment which he called a _Ridotto al Fresco_.

'The grove, principal entrance, and other parts of the gardens are

furnished with a number of small pavilions, ornamented with paintings,

chiefly by Hogarth and Hayman; each containing a table and seats, to

which the company retire to partake of refreshments.'--_Microcosm of

London._

[28] 'Mrs. Hartley was an actress of some popularity; more celebrated,

however, for her beauty. She was one of those ladies whose career on

the stage was without reproach. She was painted by several of the first

artists, and among others by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in one of her best

characters. No female, perhaps, that ever appeared on the stage looked

more lovely than she in _Fair Rosamond_. Mr., afterwards Sir Bate

Dudley, married the sister of this lady.'

[29] A letter of severe remonstrance was sent to Mr. B., who, in

consequence, omitted, in the second edition of his Journal, what is

so generally pleasing to the public, viz., the scandalous passages

relative to this nobleman.

1787.

The authorship of the following pair of prints is doubtful; they

present many indications of Rowlandson's manner, and they were issued

by his publisher, S. W. Fores, 3 Piccadilly; they are sometimes

ascribed to Gillray:--

_January 1, 1787._ A pair of single figures, respectively described

as _London Refinement_ and _Country Simplicity_. As the titles

sufficiently indicate, the former sets forth a town 'macaroni' dressed

in the height of the mode, and the latter represents a pretty youth, of

rustic fashion, long-haired, and clad in picturesque and homely country

garb.

_January 11, 1787._ _Uncle George and Black Dick at their New Game of

Naval Shuttlecock._--From this caricature it seems that the conduct

of the Admiralty in 1787 gave reasonable grounds for dissatisfaction.

The state of things is pictorially set forth by Rowlandson. In the

centre of the picture stand the compound heads of the Admiralty, a

single figure with two fronts--those of the King and Lord Howe, who was

popularly designated 'The Prince of Duskey Bay.'

A bevy of admirals are applying to the King for recognition of their

services to their country; they are all partially disabled by the loss

of limbs. A petitioner is offering a statement of their situation

to the King, who is made to declare, 'I never interfere with your

First Lord; no, never;' while the second head of this Janus, Howe, in

replying to a petition from sundry aggrieved captains, is dismissing

the applicants with "Go, go! I can do nothing; it is his Majesty's

pleasure that----' The abused admirals are expressing their wrongs: 'I

see I shall lose my rank after all my long services!' 'I am set aside,

although I've lost a son and one eye!' 'Humbug'd, by Jove, by ye old

Jesuit!' 'Had I my arm again, to find a better country!' 'Brothers, our

Lords and Commons will not suffer this game!'

The captains have evidently a bad opinion of their First Lord, _Vultus

est Index Animi_: 'Our navy has now two heads and no helm; rare work!'

'Rascal!' 'The King's pleasure! That's a falsity added to a mean

_finesse_!' 'He's fond of manoeuvres if ever so bad; you know him!'

THE LOUSIAD.

For Peter nat'ral 'tis to speak

In rhyme, as 'tis for pigs to squeak.

PETER PINDAR TO THE READER.

Gentle Reader,--It is necessary to inform thee that his Majesty

actually discovered, some time ago, as he sat at table, a _louse_ on

his plate. The emotion occasioned by the unexpected appearance of such

a guest can be better imagined than described.

An edict was, in consequence, passed for shaving the cooks, scullions,

&c., and the unfortunate louse condemned to die.

Such is the foundation of the Lousiad: with what degree of merit the

poem is executed, the _uncritical_ as well as the critical reader will

decide.

The ingenious author, who ought to be allowed to know somewhat of the

matter, hath been heard privately to declare, that in his opinion the

_Batrachomymachia_ of Homer, the _Secchia Rapita_ of Tassoni, the

_Lutrin_ of Boileau, the _Dispensary_ of Garth, and the _Rape of the

Lock_ of Pope, are not to be compared to it,--and to exclaim at the

same time, with the modest assurance of an author--

_Cedite, scriptores Romani; cedite, Graii--

Nil ortum in terris, Loiusiadâ, melius._

Which, for the sake of the mere English reader, is thus beautifully

translated:--

_Roman and Grecian authors, great and small,

The author of the Lousiad beats you all._

What dire emotions shook the monarch's soul!

Just like two billiard-balls his eyes 'gan roll.

'How, how--what, what?... what's that, what's that?' he cries

With rapid accent and with staring eyes.

'Look there! look there!--what's got into my house?

A louse, God bless us! Louse, louse, louse, louse, louse.'

The Queen look'd down, and then exclaimed, 'Good la!'

And with a smile the dappled _stranger_ saw.

Each Princess strain'd her lovely neck to see,

And, with another smile, exclaimed, 'Good me!'

'Good la! good me!' 'Is that all you can say?'

(Our gracious monarch cry'd, with huge dismay).

'What! what a silly, vacant smile takes place

Upon your Majesty's and children's face,

Whilst that vile louse (soon, soon to be unjointed!)

Affronts the presence of the _Lord's anointed_!'

Dash'd, as if tax'd with hell's most deadly sins,

The Queen and Princesses drew in their chins,

Look'd prim, and gave each exclamation o'er,

And, prudent damsels, 'word spake never more.'

Sweet maids! the beauteous boast of Britain's isle,

Speak--were those peerless lips forbid to smile?

Lips! that the soul of simple _Nature_ moves--

Form'd by the beauteous hands of all the _Loves_!

Lips of delight! unstained by satire's gall!

Lips! that I never kiss'd--and never shall.

Now to each trembling page, a poor mute mouse,

The _pious_ monarch cry'd, 'Is this _your louse_?'

'Ah! Sire,' replied each page, with pig-like whine,

'An't please, your Majesty, it is not _mine_.'

'_Not thine?_' the hasty monarch cry'd again--

'What, what? Who's, who's, then? Who the devil's, then?'

[Illustration: 'IS THIS YOUR LOUSE?']

Now at this sad event the sovereign, sore

Unhappy, could not take a mouthful more;

His wiser Queen, her gracious stomach studying,

Stuck most devoutly to the beef and pudding;

For Germans are a very hearty sort,

Whether begot in hog-styes or a court,

Who bear (which shows their hearts are not of stone)

The ills of others better than their own.

Grim terror seiz'd the souls of all the pages,

Of different sizes and of different ages;

Frighten'd about their pensions or their bones,

They on each other gap'd, like Jacob's sons.

Now to a page, but which we can't determine,

The growling monarch gave the plate and vermin:

'Watch well that blackguard animal,' he cries,

'That, soon or late, to glut my vengeance, dies!

Watch, like a cat, that vile marauding _louse_,

Or George shall play the devil in the house.

Some _spirit_ whispers, that to cooks I owe

The precious _visitor_ that crawls below.

Yes, yes! the whisp'ring _spirit_ tells me true,

And soon shall vengeance all their locks pursue.

Cooks, scourers, scullions, too, with tails of pig,

Shall lose their coxcomb curls, and wear a wig.'

Thus roar'd the King--not Hercules so _big_;

And all the palace echo'd, 'Wear a wig!'

Fear, like an ague, struck the pale-nos'd cooks,

And dash'd the beef and mutton from their looks,

Whilst from each cheek the rose withdrew its red,

And pity blubbered o'er each menac'd head.

But, lo! the great _cook-major_ comes! his eyes

Fierce as the redd'ning flame that _roasts_ and _fries_;

His cheeks like _bladders_ with high passion glowing,

Or like a fat _Dutch trumpeter's_ when _blowing_.

A neat white apron his huge corpse embrac'd,

Tied by two comely strings about his waist;

An apron that he purchas'd with his riches,

To guard from hostile grease his velvet breeches.

'Ye sons of dripping, on your _major_ look!

(In sounds of deep-ton'd thunder cry'd the cook),

I swear this head disdains to lose its locks;

And those that do not, tell them they are _blocks_.

Whose head, my cooks, such vile disgrace endures?

Will it be yours, or yours, or yours, or yours?

Then may the charming perquisite of grease

The mammon of your pocket ne'er increase;

Grease! that so frequently hath brought you coin,

From veal, pork, mutton, and the great _sirloin_.

O brothers of the spit! be firm as rocks--

Lo! to no King on earth I yield these locks.

Few are my hairs behind, by age endear'd!

But, few or many, they shall _not_ be shear'd.

* * * * *

Sooner shall ham from fowl and turkey part,

And stuffing leave a calf's or bullock's heart:

Sooner shall toasted cheese take leave of mustard,

And from the codlin tart be torn the custard.

Sooner these hands the glorious haunch shall spoil,

And all our melted butter turn to oil:

Sooner our pious _King_, with pious face,

Sit down to dinner without saying grace;

And every night salvation-pray'rs put forth

For Portland, Fox, Burke, Sheridan, and North.

Sooner shall fashion order frogs and snails,

And dishclouts stick eternal to our tails!

Let George view _ministers_ with surly _looks_--

Abuse 'em, kick 'em--but revere his cooks!'

'What! lose our locks!' reply'd the roasting crew,

'To barbers yield 'em?--Damme if we do!

Be shav'd like foreign dogs, one daily meets,

Naked and blue, and shiv'ring in the streets?

And from the palace be asham'd to range,

For fear the world should think we had the mange?'

'Rouse, _Opposition_!' roar'd a tipsy cook,

With arms akimbo and bubonic look.

'Be shav'd!' a scullion loud began to bellow--

Loud as a parish bull, or poor Othello.

'Be shav'd like pigs!' rejoin'd the scullion's mate,

His dishclout shaking, and his pot-crown'd pate--

'What barber dares it, let him watch his nose

And, curse me!--dread the rage of these ten foes.'

'Be shav'd!' an understrapper turnbroche cry'd,

In all the foaming energy of pride--

'Zounds! let us take His Majesty in hand!

The king shall find he lives at our command.

Yes--let him know, with all his wond'rous state,

His teeth and stomach on _our_ wills shall wait.

_We_ rule the platters, _we_ command the spit,

And George shall have his mess when _we_ think fit;

Stay till _ourselves_ shall condescend to eat,

And then, if _we_ think proper, have his meat.'

'Heav'ns!' cry'd a _yeoman_, with much learning grac'd,

In books as well as meat a man of taste--

'However _modern Kings_ may cooks despise,

_Warriors_ and _Kings_ were cooks, or hist'ry lies.

Patroclus broil'd beef-steaks to quell his hunger;

The mighty Agamemnon potted conger!

And Charles of Sweden, 'midst his guns and drums,

Spread his own bread and butter with his thumbs.

Be shav'd!--No! Sooner pill'ries, jails, the stocks

Shall pinch this corpse, than barbers snatch my locks.'

* * * * *

Around the table, all with sulky looks,

Like culprits doom'd to Tyburn, sat the cooks.

At length, with phiz that show'd the man of woes,

The sorrowing king of spits and stew-pans rose;

With outstretch'd hands and energetic grace,

He fearless thus harangues the roasting race:

'Cooks, scullions--hear me, every mother's son--

Know that I relish not this royal fun.

What's life,' the major said, 'my brethren, pray,

If force must snatch our first delights away?

Relentless, shall the royal mandate drag

The hairs that long have grac'd this silken bag?--

Hairs to a barber scarcely worth a fig--

Too few to make a foretop for a wig!

Hairs, look, my lads, so wonderfully thin

Old Schwellenberg has more upon her chin!'

[Illustration: 'COOKS, SCULLIONS--HEAR ME, EVERY MOTHER'S SON.']

* * * * *

'--What! what! not shave 'em, shave 'em, shave 'em, shave 'em?

Not all the world, not all the world shall save 'em.

I'll shear 'em, shear 'em, as I shear my sheep!'

Thus spoke the mighty monarch in his sleep:

Which proves that kings in sleep a speech may make,

Equal to what they utter broad awake.

* * * * *

Now did the _major_ hum a tune so sad!

Chromatic--in the robes of sorrow clad;

But, lo! the ballad could not fear control,

Nor exorcise the barbers from his soul.

And now his lifted eyes the ceiling sought;

And now he whistled--not for want of thought.

[Illustration:

'AND NOW HIS LIFTED EYES THE CEILING SOUGHT,

AND NOW HE WHISTLED--NOT FOR WANT OF THOUGHT.']

* * * * *

Scarce had he utter'd when a noise was heard;

And now, behold, a motley band appear'd!

With Babel sounds at once the kitchen rings,

Of groom, page, barber, and the best of Kings!

And lo! the best of Queens must see the fun;

And lo! the Princesses so beauteous run;

And Madam Schwellenberg came hobbling, too--

Poor lady, losing in the race a shoe!

But, in revenge-pursuit, the loss how slight!

The world would lose a _leg_ to please a spite.

And now for peace did Seeker bawl aloud;

And lo, _peace_ came at once among the crowd.

In courts of justice thus, to hush the hum,

'Silence!' the crier calls, and all is mum.

'Cooks, scullions, all, of high and low degree,

Attend and learn our monarch's will from _me_.

Our sovereign lord, the King, whose word is fate,

Wills in his wisdom to see shav'd each pate:

Then, gentlemen, pray take your chairs at once;

And let each barber fall upon his sconce.'

Thus thunder'd Secker, with a Mars-like face,

And struck dire terror through the roasting race.

Thus roar'd Achilles, 'mid the martial fray,

When ev'ry frighted Trojan ran away.

Calm was the crowd when thus the King of isles,

Firm for the shave, but yet with kingly smiles:

'You must be shav'd--you shall--you must, indeed.

No, no--I shan't let slip a single head.

A very filthy, nasty, dirty trick:

The thought on't turns my stomach--makes me sick.

Louse, louse--a nasty thing--a louse I hate:

No, no--I'll have no more upon my plate.

One is sufficient--yes, yes--quite a store:

I'll have no more--no more--I'll have no more.'

Thus spake the King, like ev'ry King who gives

To trifles lustre that for ever lives.

Thus stinking vapours from the oozy pool,

Of cats and kittens, dogs and puppies full,

Bright _sol_ sublimes, and gives them golden wings,

The cloud on which _some_ say the cherub sings.

PETER'S PENSION.

A SOLEMN EPISTLE TO A SUBLIME PERSONAGE.

_Non possum tecum vivere, nec sine te._

Nebuchadnezzar, sir, the _King_,

As sacred hist'ries sweetly sing,

Was on all fours turn'd out to grass,

Just like a horse, or mule, or ass.

Heav'ns! what a fall from kingly glory!

I hope it will not so turn out

That we shall have (to make a pout)

A second part of the old story!

This pension was well meant, O glorious King!

And for the bard a very pretty thing;

But let me, sir, refuse it, I implore!

_I_ ought not to be rich whilst you are poor.

No, sir, I cannot be your humble hack;

I fear your _Majesty_ would break my back.

A great deal, my dear liege, depends

On having clever bards for friends.

What had Achilles been without his Homer?

A tailor, woollen-draper, or a comber!

In poetry's rich grass how virtues thrive!

Some when put in, so lean, seem scarce alive,

And yet so speedily a bulk obtain,

That e'en their _owners_ know them not again.

[Illustration: PETER'S PENSION.]

Could _you_, indeed, have gain'd my muse of _fire_,

Great would your luck have been, indeed, great _sire_!

Then had I prais'd your nobleness of spirit!

Then had I boasted that myself,

_Hight_ Peter, was the first blest, tuneful elf

You ever gave a farthing to for merit.

Though money be a pretty handy tool;

Of mammon, lo! I scorn to be the fool!

If fortune calls she's welcome to my cot,

Whether she leaves a guinea or a groat;

Whether she brings me from the butcher's shop

The whole sheep or a single chop.

For lo! like Andrew Marvel I can dine,

And deem a mutton bone extremely fine.

Then, sir, how difficult the task you see,

To bribe a moderate _gentleman_ like _me_.

I will not swear, _point blank_, I shall not alter--

A _saint_ (my namesake) e'en was known to falter.

And who is there that may not change his mind?

Where can you folks of that description find

Who will not sell their souls for cash?

That most angelic, diabolic trash!

E'en grave divines submit to glitt'ring gold!

The best of consciences are bought and sold:

Yet should I imitate the fickle wind,

Or Mister Patriot Eden--change my mind;

And for the bard your Majesty should send,

And say, 'Well, well, well, well, my tuneful friend,

I long, I long to give you something, Peter--

You make fine verses--nothing can be sweeter--

What will you have? what, what? speak out, speak out:

Yes, yes, you something want, no doubt, no doubt.'

Then would the poet thankfully reply,

With falt'ring voice, low bow, and marv'ling eye

All meekness! such a simple, dove-like thing!

'Blest be the bard who verses can indite,

To yield a _second Solomon_ delight!

Thrice blest, who findeth favour with the King!

'Since 'tis the royal will to give the bard

In whom the King delighteth some reward,

Some mark of royal bounty to requite him,

O King! do anything but _knight him_.'

ODES FOR THE NEW YEAR.

Know, reader, that the laureate's post sublime

Is destin'd to record, in handsome rhyme,

The deeds of British monarchs twice a year:

If _great_, how happy is the tuneful tongue!

If _pitiful_, as Shakespeare says, the song

Must 'suckle fools and chronicle small beer.'

But bards must take the _up hill_ with the _down_;

Kings cannot always oracles be hatching:

Maggots are oft the tenants of a crown--

Therefore, like those in cheese, not worth the catching.

O gentle reader! if, by God's good grace,

Or (what's more sought) good interest at court,

Thou get'st of lyric trumpeter the place,

And hundreds are, like gudgeons, gaping for't;

Hear! (at a palace if thou mean'st to thrive)

And, of a steady coachman, learn to drive.

[Illustration: ODES FOR THE NEW YEAR.]

Whene'er employ'd to celebrate a King,

Let fancy lend thy muse her loftiest wing--

Stun with thy minstrelsy th' affrighted sphere;

Bid thy voice thunder like a hundred batteries;

For common sounds, conveying common flatteries.

Are zephyrs whisp'ring to the royal ear.

Know, glutton-like, on praise each monarch crams;

Hot spices suit alone their pamper'd nature:

Alas! the stomach, parch'd by burning drams,

With mad-dog terror starts at simple water.

Fierce is each royal _mania_ for applause;

And, as a horse-pond wide, are monarch's maws--

Form'd, therefore, on a pretty ample scale:

To sound the _decent_ panegyric note,

To _pour_ the _modest_ flatt'ries down their throat,

Were off'ring shrimps for dinner to a whale.

And mind! whene'er thou strik'st the lyre to kings,

To touch to Abigails of court the strings;

Give the Queen's toad-eater a handsome sop,

And swear she always has more grace

Than e'en to sell the _meanest_ place--

Swear, too, the woman keeps no title-shop.

[Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF SENTIMENT.]

Thus, reader, ends the prologue to my odes!

The true-bred courtiers wonder whilst I preach--

And with grave vizards and stretch'd eyes to gods,

Pronounce my sermon a most impious speech:

With all my spirit--let them damn my lays--

A courtier's curses are exalted praise.

_January, 1787._ _The Triumph of Sentiment._

_January, 1787._ _The Triumph of Hypocrisy._

1787. _Transplanting of Teeth._ Published by J. Harris, 37 Dean

Street, Soho.--Among the schemes of charlatans, which were popularly

successful in the days of _The Temples of Health, Mud Baths_, and

other devices by which pretenders flourished on the gains extorted

from fashionable credulity at the end of the last century, was a new

theory of dentistry, according to the practice of which a sound tooth

was to be torn from the jaws of a healthy individual, and, while still

warm, was to be inserted in the gums of some patient whose decayed

molar had been extracted simultaneously, and the rest of the operation

was left to nature. According to the caricaturist, who has produced a

large, spirited, and well-executed plate on this novel operation, we

are informed by advertisement that this truly extraordinary performance

is taking place in the surgery of '_Baron Ron, Dentist to her High

Mightyness the Empress of Russia_,' The professor has appended to this

important announcement the further statement, '_Most money given for

Live Teeth_.'

[Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF HYPOCRISY.]

The dual operations of depriving the poor of their sound teeth for a

small pecuniary consideration, that their lost molars may regarnish

the gums of patients who are prepared to pay for the accommodation, and

the substitution of whole teeth for decayed ones, are proceeding at

once. The artist has sketched two wretched young creatures, in rags,

who are stealing out of Baron Ron's surgery, weeping and bewailing

the loss of their teeth, and regarding a coin held in the palm of

their hands, with mourning and reproachful looks. An old dandy, a

military buck, is examining the adjustment of his new teeth, which

do not appear to fit as accurately as could be desired. An assistant

dental professor is planting a live tooth in the gums of a lady of

quality, who is kicking violently, in disapproval of the sensation. An

elderly dowager is seated in suspense in a chair beside a young sweep,

whose odoriferous vicinity she is counteracting by applications to a

scent-bottle held to her susceptible nose, while the Baron--a modishly

costumed foreigner--is tearing out a beautiful healthy white tooth from

the jaws of the sooty patient, to be straightway transplanted into the

gums of the customer of quality.

_May 9, 1787._ _The Brain-Sucker, or The Miseries of Authorship._

In 1787 Rowlandson issued a series of rustic sketches, including

such subjects as horses, dogs, coaches, carts, haymakers, cottages,

farrier's forges, and roadside inns; similar views to those selected by

Morland, but treated in Rowlandson's own original style.

Among these rural studies we may particularise:--

_Shoeing: the Village Forge._ Published by Laurie and Whittle, 53 Fleet

Street.

[Illustration: SHOEING: THE VILLAGE FORGE.]

_A Brewer's Dray._

[Illustration: A BREWER'S DRAY.]

_A Posting Inn._ Republished July 1, 1803.

[Illustration: A POSTING INN.]

_A Rural Halt._ Published by J. Harris, Dean Street, Soho.

[Illustration: A RURAL HALT.]

_Haymakers._ Published by J. Harris, Dean Street, Soho.

[Illustration: HAYMAKERS.]

1787. _A Post Chaise._

[Illustration: A SAILOR'S FAMILY.]

1787. _A Sailor's Family._--One of those charming pieces to which so

much of Rowlandson's reputation is justly due. Unaffected simplicity,

an easy effortless style of drawing, natural grouping, and the most

perfect felicity in rendering graceful attitudes and depicting faces,

unequalled for a certain innocent beauty and expressiveness.

[Illustration: A COLLEGE SCENE, OR A FRUITLESS ATTEMPT ON THE PURSE OF

OLD SQUARE-TOES.]

_August 1, 1787._ _A College Scene, or a Fruitless Attempt on the

Purse of old Square-toes._ Engraved by E. Williams; published by J.

R. Smith, King Street, Covent Garden.--_Old Square-toes_ has called

to see his scapegrace--on the subject of supplies, it is needless to

particularise. Young _Hopeful_, who is obviously destined for the

Bar--where, we may feel convinced in advance he is bound to shine--has

assumed his most specious deportment, and has donned his cap and

gown, with the other semblances of decorum. The title, _Fruitless

Attempt_, seems somewhat of a misnomer, for the special pleading of

young _Hopeful_ is evidently producing a favourable impression. Old

_Square-toes_ has banged himself down into a chair, and planted his

stick on the ground with an air of determination, in a very square

attitude, to demonstrate that his resolution is not to be shaken,

and that young _Hopeful_ is losing his pains; but, as in the old

comedies, the paternal heart is yearning towards his progeny, while his

most relentless denunciations are thundered forth; the lines of his

stern face are relaxing, an amused smile is twitching at the corners of

his mouth, and we are convinced that the next remark will embody the

sentiments immortalised by the Georgian dramatists: 'You dog, this time

your father forgives you; boys will be boys; I was a gay young spark

myself once; I'll pay your debts this time, but never again, &c. &c.'

[Illustration: TRAGEDY SPECTATORS.]

[Illustration: COMEDY SPECTATORS.]

_October 18, 1787._ _Tragedy Spectators._ _Comedy Spectators._

Published by T. Rowlandson, 50 Poland Street.--The contrast of the

respective attractions between the two classes of entertainment is

pictured with the artist's characteristic force and spirit. The humour

of these two designs is suggestive of Hogarth's genius. While the

woes of 'Romeo and Juliet' are influencing the spectators to the most

profound melancholy, and reducing the audience to tears and hysteria,

the attendants on _Comedy_ are enjoying the humours of the performance

with the most frank and unrestrained merriment. [Illustration: LOVE IN

THE EAST.]

1787. _Love in the East._--Oriental luxuriousness seems to have had a

charm for Rowlandson's pencil. It is true that the customs of the East

were not represented, at the caricaturist's day, with the strictest

adherence to facts; their salient points have since been made more

familiar by the graphic pictures of our travelled artists, for whom the

East has always had a peculiar fascination.

Rowlandson's fancy has supplied those details which he could not

furnish from actual experience, and as far as the general theories of

oriental splendour are concerned, the imaginative delineations of our

artist will be found far more realistic and in accordance with our

preconceived impressions than the actuality.

_November 5, 1787._ _Reformation, or the Wonderful Effects of a

Proclamation._--The Chapel Royal is apparently the scene of this

subject. King George, Queen Charlotte, with a Lord and Lady-in-waiting,

are in the Royal pew; near them are the law Lords; the Prince of Wales

and Mrs. Fitzherbert, with Col. George Hanger, are in the centre; Burke

is between them, with Lord North, who is of course represented as

sleeping soundly, in spite of the efforts made by a pretty maiden to

awaken him. Pitt is acting as clerk. The sermon is evidently one of no

common significance. Fox is standing in a sheet, with a placard, '_For

playing cards on the Lord's Day!_' A stout lady, armed with a whip, is

driving a pack of dogs out of the chapel.

[Illustration: THE ART OF SCALING.]

1787 (?). _The Art of Scaling._

[Illustration: MODISH.]

1787 (?). _Modish._ Published by S. W. Fores, Piccadilly.

[Illustration: PRUDENT.]

1787 (?). _Prudent._ Published by S. W. Fores, Piccadilly.

1787. _Landscape and other Etchings, by T. Rowlandson._

1787. _Embarking from Brighthelmstone to Dieppe._--The spectators are

scattered about the shore, with various fishing smacks; the passengers

are being pushed off in rowing boats to the sailing lugger, which is to

take them and their luggage across the Channel. There is a fresh breeze

blowing; the whole view is animated, and complete as a picture.

1787. _A Sea-coast Scene. Cottages by the Sea-shore: a Storm coming

on._

1787. _Deer-Hunting: a Landscape Scene._--A noble park is capitally

etched; the subject is diversified by the introduction of a stag hunt.

The hunters are riding up as the stag, followed by the pack of hounds,

is taking the water.

_December 18, 1787._ _A Travelling Knife-grinder at a Cottage Door._

Published by T. Rowlandson, Poland Street.--A pretty rustic scene,

etched with spirit and well finished.

_The Three Horse-shoes._--A roadside inn.

1787. _View on the French Coast._--Partially dismantled ships of war,

canted for caulking.

1787. _Fox-Hunting: a Landscape Scene._--The artist has taken great

pains with the trees and rich foliage which grace this view. The pack

have come up with the fox, and the huntsmen are in 'at the death.'

_October 15, 1787._ _Stage Coach setting out from a Posting House._

1787. _Cribbage Players._--A lady and gentleman are opponents; a second

lady and gentleman are watching the respective hands. Etched in a

brilliant outline, probably intended to be coloured in facsimile of an

original drawing.

_December 15, 1787._ _Postboys and Post-horses at the White Hart

Inn._--Published by J. Harris.

1787. _Boy bringing round a Citizen's Curricle._

1787. _Civility._

1788.

1788. _The Morning of the Meet._--One of a series of large hunting

pictures, somewhat in the style of Morland, more especially as respects

subject, but treated with Rowlandson's individuality as regards

boldness, spirited action, and ease.

[Illustration: THE MEET.]

There are five successive subjects which may be considered to form part

of this series, respectively entitled _The Meet_, _The Start_, _The

Run_, _In at the Death_, and _The Dinner_.

_February 20, 1788._ _The Humours of St. Giles's._ Published by T.

Harmar (Engraver), 161 Piccadilly. The honours of this plate are, we

understand, divided between Rowlandson and Ramberg. _The Humours of

St. Giles's_ are of a diversified nature, as might be supposed. Both

artist and engraver seem to have seized the passing incidents with

true Hogarth-like aptitude, and collected them in one group. There is

nothing but the evidence of Rowlandson's peculiarities to warrant us

in including this print among his works. It is very scarce, and we

have not met with his name on any copy of the plate, which is engraved

by T. Harmar, the publisher, after a method bearing some resemblance,

as far as mechanical execution is concerned, to the early style of

James Gillray. We believe the etching is due to Ramberg, but the

female figures, and the person of the hairdresser, are unmistakably

characteristic of our artist's manner, both as concerns expressions and

attitudes, and particularly as regards the drawing of the extremities.

[Illustration: THE HUMOURS OF ST. GILES'S.]

A 'gin slum' is the centre of attraction; at the sign of the 'Fox

and Grapes' the landlord is serving a buxom and somewhat dishevelled

Irish beauty with a glass of 'blue ruin.' A drunken-looking butcher

is standing treat; another fair member of the hundreds of Drury is

entirely overcome, and is a 'deadly lively' illustration of the usual

advertisements traditionally found outside the spirit cellars of

Hogarth's period: 'dead drunk for a penny, clean straw for nothing.' A

dandified French barber, returning from the mansions of his clients in

St. James's, with his powdering-bag and paraphernalia under his arm, is

stooping, from a motive of gallantry, over the semi-conscious nymph,

while an urchin is possessing himself of the tonsor's handkerchief. A

baker, taking home ready-cooked joints to the respective owners, is

pausing awhile to enjoy the farces transacting around him, while the

lamplighter, perched on a ladder above to attend his lamps, is pouring

some of his oil over the baked meats by way of sauce. In the distance

is shown an altercation between a milk-maid and a fishfag, and a bout

of fisticuffs is proceeding farther on.

_March 6, 1788._ _The Q. A. loaded with the Spoils of India and

Britain._--The Q. A. is a zebra; Pitt is seated, with well-stuffed

panniers, in front of this novel steed, loaded with costly spoils,

_Rights and Wrongs_; round the Zebra's neck is a bag of _Bulse_,

containing some of Warren Hasting's famous ill-gotten diamonds. Pitt

is sharply whipping his beast, and declaring 'I have thrown off the

mask, I can blind the people no longer, and must now carry everything

by my bought majority.' The Q. A. is also trumpeting forth, 'What are

children's rights to ambition? I will rule in spite of them, if I can

conceal things at Q.' A law lord, said to be intended for Lord Thurlow,

who has hold of the animal's head, is filled with certain gloomy

apprehensions: 'So many Scotchmen have left their heads behind in this

d--d town for treason, I begin to tremble as much as the thief in the

rear for my own.' The thief in the rear is the Duke of Richmond, who,

with one of his famous defence guns between his legs, is assisting

Pitt's advance with a goad, and crying 'Skulking in the rear, out of

sight, suits best my character.' A finger-post is pointing to _Tower

Hill_, by _B--m (Buckingham) House_.

_March 29, 1788._ _Ague and Fever._ (Companion print to _The

Hypochondriac_, November 5, 1792.) Designed by James Dunthorne. Etched

by T. Rowlandson. Published by Thomas Rowlandson, 50 Poland Street.

And feel by turns the bitter change of fierce extremes--

Extremes by change more fierce.--MILTON.

James Dunthorne seems to have had a taste for inventing symbolical

renderings of human infirmities; in the present case the two conditions

of _Ague and Fever_ are at least ingeniously portrayed. The cold

snake-like folds of _Ague_ are twining round the shivering victim,

seated as he is in the full heat of a blazing fire; while the quivering

heats of _Fever_ personified are in attendance, between the patient and

his physician, waiting to add his persecutions to the infirmities which

the sick man is already enduring.

[Illustration: AGUE AND FEVER.]

_July 9, 1788._ _Going to ride St. George; a Pantomime Scene lately

performed at Kensington before their Majesties._ Published by William

Holland, 50 Oxford Street.--This print, with a crowd of others on the

same incident, had its rise in an accident: the Prince of Wales, being

out driving in a curricle with Mrs. Fitzherbert, by some misadventure

was thrown from his vehicle, and his companion shared his fall. In

Rowlandson's print the Prince has fallen on his back, and the lady

is taking a Phaeton-like flight on to his body. The positions are

reversed in the caricatures Gillray and other satirists produced on the

subject. George the Third and his Queen, with an escort of Guards, are

riding past at the very moment, and they seem greatly interested in the

spectacle of their son's downfall.

_July 22, 1788._ _Old Cantwell Canvassing for Lord Janus._--The

Westminster Election again created further excitement in 1788, as the

old field on which the Whigs had gained their triumph against Court

interest. The appointment of Lord Hood, in the beginning of July, to a

seat at the Admiralty Board rendered a new election necessary. Hood,

as the supporter of Pitt, enjoyed the advantage of the Ministerial

assistance; the Opposition, however, contested the seat so efficiently

in favour of Lord John Townshend, in the Whig interest, that, in spite

of the manoeuvres of the Ministry, the Liberal member was returned.

In Rowlandson's print a Methodistical congregation is being harangued

by the pastor on the respective qualities of the candidates. Lord

Hood, whose countenance is wearing a look of sanctified horror, is

accommodated with a seat behind his advocate; and a sailor, with a

bludgeon and the union-jack unfurled, is also in the pulpit. _Old

Cantwell_ has a work in his hand setting forth representations of

_Devil Townshend_ and _Saint Hood_. The eloquence of the preacher is

directed against the failings of his opponents: 'Lord Hood is a saint,

my dear brethren, as immaculate as a newborn babe; but as for Lord

Townshend, he'll be d----d to all eternity. I shudder when I tell you

he loves a pretty girl; the Opposition to a man are all fond of pretty

girls! They go about like lions in pursuit of your wives and daughters.

Lord Hood's pious Committee will swear to it,' &c.

_July 27, 1788._ _Effects of the Ninth Day's Express from Covent

Garden, just arrived at Cheltenham._--The King had retired to

Cheltenham, where, according to the artist, he was taking the waters

with his family; a postilion has arrived express from London with

the latest intelligence concerning the election for Westminster. The

'result of the ninth day's poll--majority for Lord John Townshend,

218,' is too much for his Majesty, who is quite overcome; he has

dropped the tumbler from which he was taking the waters, and has fallen

into the arms of a page; a peasant, who has been drawing the water for

his sovereign, is, in consternation, deluging the royal shoe with a few

quarts of the same fluid; Queen Charlotte is horrified, and the pretty

Princesses are clasping their hands in consternation. In Court circles

it was represented that the Whigs were capable of any atrocity, however

deep.

_August 1, 1788._ _The School for Scandal._ Published by V. M. Picot,

6 Greek Street, Soho. T. Rowlandson, invt.; V. M. Picot, direxit.--One

of the long strips containing subjects arranged in series, which

were popular at this period, belonging to the same order as _The Bath

Minuet_ and _The Progress of a Lie_, by H. Bunbury; _A Country Dance_

and _A Cotillon_, by W. H. Kingsbury; _The Installation Supper, as

given at the Pantheon, by the Knights of the Bath_ (on May 26, 1788),

by James Gillray; _The Prince's Bow_, by F. G. Byron; _English Slavery,

or a Picture of the Times_, 1788; _Chesterfield Travestied_, by

Collings, &c., &c.

_The School for Scandal_ consists of seventeen females, of ages

varying from a tender maid to an antiquated grandmother; the

respective characteristics of the different individuals are hit off

with Rowlandson's usual spirit and success; the pretty maidens being

extremely flattered, and the traits of less favoured dowagers coming

in for grotesque exaggerations. The fair members of this coterie are

supposed to be making their several comments, as exclamations, upon

a recent elopement, a proceeding not unusual at the time _The School

for Scandal_ was given to the public: 'Off! positively off!' 'I'm

thunderstruck!' 'Poor creature, I pity her!' 'And with a low-bred

fellow!' 'Did you expect anything else?' 'A footman too!' 'Even so!'

'Mind, it's a secret!' 'Not a syllable!' 'Poor as we are, my daughter

would not have done so!' 'I! God forbid!' 'Oh! 'tis fashionable life!'

'She vow'd she'd go!' 'So fine a girl! with so good a fortune!' 'I say

nothing!' 'An ill-made scoundrel too!' 'He's good enough for her!'

_November 25, 1788._ _Filial Piety._ Published by S. W. Fores, 3

Piccadilly.--The King's illness gave serious grounds for apprehension;

as his chances of recovery became more precarious the Tories thought