CHAPTER VII.

_THE CARICATURES OF GEORGE CRUIKSHANK._

SIXTY YEARS AGO.

Just sixty years ago, a writer in _Blackwood_ spoke of the subject of

the present chapter (then a young man who had already acquired an

artistic reputation) in the following terms:--

"It is high time that the public should think more than they have

hitherto done of George Cruikshank; and it is also high time that George

Cruikshank should begin to think more than he seems to have done

hitherto of himself. Generally speaking, people consider him as a

clever, sharp _caricaturist_, and nothing more; a free-handed, comical

young fellow, who will do anything he is paid for, and who is quite

contented to dine off the proceeds of a 'George IV.' to-day, and those

of a 'Hone,' or a 'Cobbett' to-morrow. He himself, indeed, appears to be

the most careless creature alive, as touching his reputation. He seems

to have no plan--almost no ambition--and, I apprehend, not much

industry. He does just what is suggested or thrown in his way, pockets

the cash, orders his beef-steak and bowl, and chaunts, like one of his

own heroes,--

'Life is all a variorium,

We regard not how it goes.'

Now, for a year or two to begin with, this is just what it should be.

Cruikshank was resolved to see _Life_,[66] and his sketches show that he

has seen it, in some of its walks, to purpose. But life is short, and

art is long; and our gay friend must pull up.

"Perhaps he is not aware of the fact himself--but a fact it undoubtedly

is--that he possesses genius--genius in its truest sense--strong,

original, English genius. Look round the world of art, and ask, How many

are there of whom anything like this can be said? Why, there are not

half a dozen names that could bear being mentioned at all; and certainly

there is not one, the pretensions of which will endure sifting, more

securely and more triumphantly than that of George Cruikshank. In the

first place, he is--what no living _caricaturist_ but himself has the

least pretensions to be, and what, indeed, scarcely one of their

predecessors was--he is a thoroughbred _artist_.[67] He draws with the

ease and freedom and fearlessness of a master; he understands the figure

completely; and appears, so far as one can guess from the trifling sort

of things he has done, to have a capital notion of the principles of

grouping. Now these things are valuable in themselves, but they are

doubly, trebly valuable as possessed by a person of real comic humour;

and a total despiser of that Venerable Humbug which almost all the

artists of our day seem, in one shape or other, to revere as the prime

god of their idolatry. Nobody, that has the least of an eye for art, can

doubt that Cruikshank, if he chose, might design as many annunciations,

beatifications, apotheoses, metamorphoses, and so forth, as would cover

York cathedral from end to end. It is still more impossible to doubt

that he might be a famous portrait painter. Now, these are fine lines

both of them, and yet it is precisely the chief merit of Cruikshank that

he cuts them both; that he will have nothing to do with them; that he

has chosen a walk of his own, and that he has made his own walk popular.

Here lies genius; but let him do himself justice; let him persevere and

_rise_ in his own path, and then, ladies and gentlemen, _then_ the day

will come when his name will be a name indeed, not a name puffed and

paraded in the newspapers, but a living, a substantial, perhaps even an

illustrious, English name. Let him, in one word, proceed, and, as he

proceeds, let him think of Hogarth."[68]

Now, although amused (and surely he cannot fail to be amused) at the

curious incapacity of an art critic so strangely ignorant of his subject

as to conceive _George Cruikshank_ an artist capable of designing

_annunciations_, _beatifications_, _apotheoses_, and subjects so

completely out of the range of his sympathies and abilities, the reader

will, at the same time, be struck with the prescience of the intelligent

writer who discerned in him the possession of true genius, and predicted

for him, even at this early period of his career, the reputation--"living,

substantial," and "illustrious"--which he afterwards so justly achieved

for himself.

In everything save the power to realize an annunciation, a

beatification, or an apotheosis, George Cruikshank was, at the time this

article was penned, exactly what Mr. Lockhart describes him. The most

able and accomplished of the caricaturists of his time, he was

nevertheless willing to etch the works of an amateur or of an artist

inferior to himself, to whose work he has frequently imparted a vitality

of which it would have been destitute but for the interposition of his

hand. He was ready, moreover, to execute woodcuts for a song-book or the

political skits of any scribbler of his time, whether on the ministerial

or the popular side mattered little to him. It was therefore not

unnatural that doing "just what was suggested or thrown in his way,"

Lockhart should come to the erroneous conclusion that the artist had "no

plan," "no ambition," and "not much industry." The assertion that he had

"no ambition" has been amply disproved by his subsequent life, whilst so

far from having "no plan," the sequel shows that all this time,

unsuspected by the critic, he had been gradually developing the style of

illustration by which he made his mark and reputation,--a style first

displayed in the celebrated "Points of Humour," the publication of which

served as the occasion for Lockhart's criticism.

On this account, if for no other reason, the caricatures of George

Cruikshank possess so remarkable an interest, that it is singular that

this field of artistic labour has been left almost unexplored by the

essayists, many of whom, with a somewhat imperfect knowledge of their

subject, have essayed to give us information on the subject of this

artist and his works. It is just this early period of his life, in which

he first followed and then gradually emancipated himself from the

artistic control and influence of Gillray, which seems to us to afford

the most interesting study of the man's career. Nevertheless, nearly all

the articles we have read on George Cruikshank would give us the idea

that, with the exception of certain designs for woodcuts for Hone--such

as the celebrated _Non Mi Ricordo_ and others--certain rough coloured

engravings for "The Meteor," "The Scourge," and other periodicals of a

kindred stamp, the artist executed but few caricatures properly so

called. This at least is the impression which these articles have left

on our own minds; and we can only account for the little notice taken of

him as a caricaturist by the fact that, unlike the etchings which he

produced when in the prime of his career, his caricatures are not only

exceedingly scarce, but being in many cases unsigned, are capable only

of being recognised by those intimately acquainted with his early

handiwork.

The caricatures of George Cruikshank may be divided into three classes:

first, those which are wholly designed and etched by himself; secondly,

those which he designed after the sketches or suggestions of his

friends; and thirdly, those merely etched from the designs of other

artists. We find the first, although frequently unsigned, more usually

signed (on the left hand), "Geo. Cruik^k. fect." or "invt. & fect."; the

second--"invt. G. Cruik^k. fect.;" while the third are indicated as

merely _etched_ by him. Of the second class it may be remarked that with

the exception of the mere sketch or suggestion, the drawing and the

workmanship are oftentimes unmistakably George's own. In the description

of his caricatures which follow, we shall indicate the designs which

belong to _this_ class with an asterisk.

Publications such as "The Scourge," although containing many caricature

designs by George Cruikshank, are scarcely among those to which the

present chapter was intended to be devoted. There are, however, two

satirical compositions of his in this scurrilous publication,[69] which

appear to us so exceptionally good, that we feel justified in drawing

special attention to them. As the publication itself affords little or

no clue to the subject of the illustrations, it seems necessary in order

that the first may be understood, to explain the circumstances which

appear to us to have led up to it.

1811.

For several years prior to 1811, the established clergy had manifested

considerable uneasiness on account of the rapid spread of Methodism. The

readiness with which licenses for preaching could be obtained according

to the usual interpretation of the Toleration Act, had tended to the

multiplication of a class of preachers whose manners and language

peculiarly fitted them for acquiring influence over the inferior ranks

of the people; and by this means a great diminution had taken place in

the congregations of parish churches. It is affirmed--with what truth we

know not--that Lord Sidmouth in the measure (presently to be noticed)

was encouraged to proceed in his design by letters from persons of high

position in the Church.

LORD SIDMOUTH'S MOTION.

On the 9th of May, 1811, Lord Sidmouth moved in the House of Lords for

leave to bring in a bill for amending and explaining the Acts of William

and Mary and 17th George III., so far as applied to dissenting

ministers. According to the statement of his lordship, at most of the

quarter sessions, when the oaths were taken and the declarations made

requisite for enabling a person to officiate in a chapel or

meeting-house, any person, however ignorant or profligate, was able to

obtain a certificate which authorized him to preach. His lordship

proposed that, in order to entitle any person to a qualification as a

preacher, he should have the recommendation of at least six respectable

householders of the congregation to which he belonged. Lord Holland, in

opposing the bill, observed that he held it to be the inalienable right

of every man who thought himself able to instruct others to do so,

provided his doctrines were not incompatible with the peace of society.

When the nature and provisions of the proposed measure were made known

to the public, an alarm was excited among all those whom it was likely

to affect. The Nonconformists generally regarded it as intended, not so

much to add to the respectability of the dissenting ministers, as to

contract the limits of toleration, and subject the licensing of

preachers to the control of the magistracy. When therefore, on the 21st

of May, the bill was to be read a second time, such a deluge of

petitions was poured in against it, that the mover was left totally

unsupported. The Archbishop of Canterbury said with truth, that the

Dissenters were the best judges of their own concerns; and as it

appeared from the great number of petitions against it, that they were

hostile to the bill, he thought it unwise to press the measure against

their manifest wishes. Under these circumstances the bill was, we need

not say, thrown out.

This would appear to be the subject which produced George Cruikshank's

graphic satire of the _Interior View of the House of God_, in the first

volume of "The Scourge." The pulpit is occupied by two fanatics, one of

whom rants, while the other snuffs the candles; the devil, in the

gallery above, ridicules the proceedings by rasping, _a la_ fiddle, the

bars of a gridiron with a poker; among the numerous congregation present

we notice some attentive and interested listeners, whilst others

evidently attend from mere motives of curiosity. Above the composition

appears the quotation, "Believe not every spirit, but try the spirits

whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into

the world." The satire, _The Examination of a Young Surgeon_, which

appears in the same volume, is aimed at the medical profession. One of

the examiners is deaf, another has the gout, a third is asleep, while

two others (unmistakable Scotchmen) discuss the merits of their

respective snuff-mulls. The deaf man calls upon the frightened candidate

to "describe the organs of hearing." The table is garnished with "The

Cow Pox Chronicle," and a skull and bones, while the walls are decorated

with pictures depicting a fight between death and a pugilist, the

Hottentot Venus, a group of various nations worshipping the golden calf,

and the lady without arms or legs. The hand of the clock points to the

hour of eleven. Judging by the pile of money-bags lying at the foot of

the president's chair, and the two members of the court who are busily

engaged in counting coin, George would seem to insinuate that the

fellows of the college of his time were a decidedly mercenary set.

"THE SATIRIST."

Of character akin to "The Scourge" (the ten volumes of which were

published between 1811 and 1815 inclusive); is "The Satirist, or Monthly

Meteor," the thirteen volumes of which made their appearance between the

years 1808 and 1813. Both publications, which now command prices very

far beyond what they are intrinsically worth, contain a number of

satires, of more or less merit (generally _less_), by various satirists,

including George Cruikshank; so far as "The Satirist" is concerned, the

designs of the latter are confined to the thirteenth and last volume,

and his caricature contributions are of a vastly superior order of merit

to any of those by which they are preceded. Besides those in "The

Scourge" and "The Satirist," may be mentioned George Cruikshank's comic

designs in "Fashion," printed for J. J. Stockdale, of Pall Mall, in

1818; and his very admirable series of untinted etchings in "The

Loyalist Magazine; or, Anti-Radical," a publication exclusively devoted

to the ministerial side of the Carolinian scandal, and published by

James Wright, of Fleet Street, in 1820.

One of the earliest caricatures I have met with by George is entitled,

_Apollyon_ [_i.e._, Napoleon]_, the Devil's Generalissimo, Addressing

his Legions_; it is signed (contrary to his usual custom), "Cruikshank

del.," and was executed (if I am right in assigning it to him) when he

was sixteen years of age.

1813. DISCOVERY OF THE REMAINS OF CHARLES I.

The attention of the public in 1813 was, as we have seen, attracted by

the Regent's treatment of his miserable wife; and in April the sympathy

of the Livery and Corporation of London, and other public bodies, found

expression in an address which was presented to Her Royal Highness. On

the 28th of March of that year, the remains of Charles the First had

been discovered in the vault of Henry the Eighth, at Windsor, a

circumstance which suggested to George Cruikshank his admirable satire

entitled, _Meditations amongst the Tombs_. It shows us His Royal

Highness gazing at the recovered bodies, and regretting that while Henry

had managed to dispose of many wives, _he_ found it impossible to get

rid of one. A figure behind him points to the headless corpse, and

significantly remarks, "How rum King Charley looks without his head!"

The Battle of Vitoria (fought this year) forms the subject of a pair of

roughly executed caricatures, entitled respectively, _The Battle of

Vitoria_, and _A Scene after the Battle, or More Trophies for

Whitehall_. Other satires of the year, are _Double Bass_, and _A

Venomous Viper Poisoning the R--l Mind_, the latter as coarsely and

indelicately handled a subject as any caricaturist of the old school

might possibly desire.

1814.

_Little Boney gone to Pot_ (Thomas Tegg, May 12th, 1814), is one of the

artist's contributions to the series of caricatures which followed the

fall of Napoleon Bonaparte. Here the satirist has seated the emperor (a

lean, ragged, forlorn, miserable, diseased object) on a huge article of

bedroom furniture, labelled, "Imperial Throne." He is in a forlorn

condition, suffering from itch, with large excrescences growing on his

toes. He is all alone in his island prison (Elba), and tempted by a

fiend, who tenders him a pistol--"If you have one spark of courage

left," it says, "take this." "Perhaps I may," replies Napoleon, "if

you'll take the flint out." By his side we find a pot of brimstone,

numerous medicine bottles, and "a treatise on the itch, by Dr.

Scratch."[70] One of the imperial boots, mounted on a tiny carriage,

forms a dummy cannon. His back leans against a tree, to which is nailed

the "Imperial Crow," while from the branches depends a ragged pair of

breeches and stockings. It was a sorry libel on the unfortunate emperor,

whose courage was undoubted, and who, at this time, instead of being the

scarecrow the artist has represented him, had grown extremely corpulent.

_Snuffing out Boney_ follows up the same subject, and represents a

cossack snuffing out Napoleon, who figures as a candle; another

caricature on the great subject of the year bears the title of _Broken

Gingerbread_ (Napoleon selling images).

[Illustration:

GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. _Published July 11th, 1814, by_ S. W. FORES,

_Piccadilly_.

RUSSIAN CONDESCENSION, OR THE BLESSINGS OF UNIVERSAL PEACE.

_Face page 133._]

VISIT OF THE ALLIED SOVEREIGNS.

On the 8th of June, 1814, the Emperor of Russia, with his sister the

Duchess Oldenburg, the King of Prussia, and his two sons, with Prince

Metternich, Marshal Blucher, General Barclay de Tolly, the Hetman

Platoff, and other persons of distinction, arrived in London. The

strangers were splendidly entertained by the merchants and bankers of

London at Merchant Taylors' Hall, and by the Corporation of London at

Guildhall. On the 20th there was a grand review of regulars and

metropolitan volunteers in Hyde Park; the ceremony of announcing to the

inhabitants of the metropolis the conclusion of the definitive treaty of

peace with France took place with all its ancient and accustomed

solemnities. On the 25th of July a grand naval review was held at

Portsmouth, and on the 27th the illustrious visitors embarked at Dover

for the Continent. The handsome Russian emperor and his handsome sister

acquired great popularity by the condescension and affability they

displayed during their short visit. This is commemorated by George

Cruikshank in a satire published by Fores on the 11th of July, entitled,

_Russian Condescension, or the Blessings of Peace_, in which a coarse

woman is represented as kissing the emperor, who is habited in English

military uniform. "There, Sal," says she to her companion, "I can boast

of what none of the ----s at Billingsgate can, having kissed the king's

emperor of all the Russian bears, and he is the sweetest, modestest,

mildest gentleman I ever kissed in all my life." On the other side a

huge country gawky shakes hands with the duchess, whose vast bonnet is a

study. "Dang it," he says, "when I goes back and tells the folks in our

village of this, law! how they will envy I!" In the distance we see

another female in pursuit of the frightened Hetman Platoff.

The reader will remember, that from the state ceremonies and festivities

which took place on this memorable occasion the miserable Caroline had

been excluded, nor did she of course receive recognition or visits from

any of her husband's illustrious visitors. The state of social isolation

to which she was thus consigned is referred to by George Cruikshank in a

very roughly executed caricature entitled, _The British Spread Eagle_,

"Presented to the northern monarchs as a model for their national banner

in consequence of the general peace." The Regent, holding in his hand a

bottle of port wine, turns away from his neglected wife: "I'll go," he

says, "to my bottle, my marchioness [of Conyngham], my countess" [of

Jersey], who may be seen close at hand in an adjoining thicket; "and I,"

answers Caroline, "to my child, my only comfort." The "only comfort" is

seen coming to her mother's assistance in the distance, uttering the

trite quotation, "The child that feels not for a mother's woes, can

ne'er be called a Briton."

_The Impostor, or Obstetric Dispute_, a still more roughly executed

satire (published by Tegg in September, 1814), refers to the wretched

impostor Southcott. Doctors called in to report on her condition

"differed" according to their proverbial custom. Three of these learned

pundits may be seen in consultation in the right-hand corner. A blatant

and irascible cobbler, standing on a stool, loudly proclaims the woman

to be "a cheat!" "a faggot!" "a bag of deceit!" "a blasphemous old hag!"

The indignant Joanna, far advanced in her dropsical condition, rushes at

him, brandishing a broom in one hand and her book of prophecies in the

other, to the delight of certain members of the "great unwashed." The

buildings at the back appropriately include "New Bethlehem," and the

house which the reader may remember was engaged for the purposes of her

miraculous _accouchement_. A rougher and coarser piece of workmanship,

if possible, will be found in _Gambols on the River Thames, February,

1814_ (published also by Tegg), which commemorates the memorable frost

of that year.

1815. THE CORN LAWS.

On the 17th of February, 1815, Mr. Frederick Robinson, vice-president of

the board of trade, moved for the House of Commons to resolve itself

into a committee of the whole house, for the purpose of considering the

state of the corn laws. This having been done, he proceeded to lay

before the House certain resolutions, three of which related to the free

importation of grain to be warehoused and afterwards exported, or to be

taken for home consumption when importation for that purpose was

allowable. The fourth and most important stated the average price of

British corn at which free importation was to be allowed, and _below

which it was to be prohibited_, and this for wheat was fixed at eighty

shillings per quarter. An exception was made in favour of grain produced

in the British colonies, which might be imported when British grown

wheat was at sixty-seven shillings. All the resolutions were read and

agreed to, with the exception of the fourth, and this in the end also

passed in the face of every amendment.

On the 1st of March, Mr. Robinson brought in his bill "to amend the laws

now in force for regulating the importation of corn." By this time very

numerous petitions against the bill were coming in from the commercial

and manufacturing districts; riotous proceedings also took place on the

6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th of March, in the course of which the mob cut to

pieces many valuable pictures belonging to Mr. Robinson, destroyed and

pitched his furniture into the street, and did a variety of mischief to

the property of other well-known supporters of the measure. The riots

(which were of a most formidable character) were only quelled by the

number and determined attitude of the military and constables. In spite,

however, of the unmistakable unpopularity of the measure, and of the

strenuous opposition to it both in and out of Parliament, the bill

passed the House on the 10th of March, and the Upper House on the 20th.

The consequences of this measure were not such as were expected either

by its promoters or opposers. Former importations, or more probably the

effect of two abundant harvests, combined with the greatly extended

cultivation of grain, produced a gradual and steady reduction in prices;

so that instead of approaching the limits at which alone importation was

allowable by the Act, it sunk to a level below that of several years

past. The farmers, who were labouring under exorbitant rents in addition

to other increased expenses, were general sufferers, and the landlords

found it necessary in many instances to make great abatements in their

dues. In the result many leases were voided and farms left without

tenants.

To this most unpopular measure a satire, published by Fores on the 3rd

of March, 1815, has reference. It is entitled, _The Blessings of Peace,

or the Curse of the Corn Bill_, a very rough affair, etched by George

(as it appears to me) from the design of an amateur whose hand may be

recognised in more than one of his caricatures. A foreign vessel is

approaching our shores laden with best wheat at 50_s._ a quarter. A

figure with a star on his breast, emblematical of course of the

aristocratic influence which was supposed to have dictated the unpopular

corn law, forbids the sailors to land it: "We won't have it," he says,

"_at any price_. We are determined to keep up our own to 80_s._, and if

the poor can't buy at that price, why, they must starve. We love money

too well to lower our rents again, tho' the income tax _is_ taken off."

His sentiments are re-echoed by companions belonging to the same class

as himself. A farmer and his starving family, however, come forward.

"No, no, masters," he remonstrates; "I'll not starve, but quit my native

country, where the poor are crushed by those they labour to support, and

retire to one more hospitable, and where threats of the rich do not

interpose to defeat the providence of God!" Behind the starving family

is a warehouse absolutely bursting with sacks of grain at 80_s._ "By

gar!" says the foreign captain, "if they won't have [the wheat] at all,

we must throw it overboard," which they accordingly are depicted as

doing. The subject is followed up by a still more slovenly affair by the

artist himself, bearing the title of _The Scale of Justice Reversed_,

published by Fores on the 29th of March. An eighteenpenny loaf in one

scale is overmatched by the accumulated weight of taxes in the other.

The overbalanced scale in its descent knocks down and crushes John Bull

under its weight. "The bread," he cries, "is out of my reach, and those

cursed taxes will break my back. That large one ['duty on

manufactories,' which the chancellor is just putting into the scale]

will do for me." Beyond, a usurer and four large landowners are seen

rejoicing at the flight of the "Property Tax," an alleviation which is

calculated to do no good to any one but themselves.

NAPOLEON RETURNS FROM ELBA.

John Bull's trials, however, were in reality just commencing. Only seven

months before he had held a grand "jubilee" in the parks, to celebrate the

return of peace, treating his little difficulty with the Americans as a

_bagatelle_ not worth serious consideration. Four months before that

celebration, "his majesty the Emperor Napoleon" had formally "renounced

for himself, his successors, etc., all right of sovereignty and dominion,

as well to the French empire and the kingdom of Italy, as over every other

country." In return for this concession, as if in absolute mockery, "the

isle of Elba, adopted by his majesty the Emperor ... as the place of his

residence," was formed during his life into a separate principality, to

"be possessed by him in full _sovereignty and property_," besides a

certain annual revenue mentioned in the articles of treaty of the 18th of

April, 1814. Here the Regent and his very good friends the allied

sovereigns had been content to leave him, dreaming apparently, that the

man whose military genius had held Europe at defiance, was disposed of

"for ever and a day;" disregarding the feeble capacity of the Bourbon who

succeeded him; the magic influence wielded by the man who thought the

world too small for his ambition over a soldiery he had created and

trained into perfection, and who regarded him in the light of a demi-god.

On the 26th of February, 1815, Bonaparte embarked at Porto Ferrago on

board a brig, followed by four small vessels conveying about 1,000

men--French, Poles, Corsicans, Neapolitans, and natives of Elba. On the

1st of March the expedition anchored off the town of Cannes, in

Provence, where these heterogeneous forces were landed. The small and

motley force of filibusters was forthwith marched on Grenoble, which was

reached on the 8th. The seventh regiment of the line, under Colonel

Labedoyere, had meanwhile joined the adventurer; the rest of the

garrison opened their gates, delivered their arsenal and magazine, and

thus placed him at the head of a body of regular troops with a train of

artillery. Only five short months afterwards, while the unfortunate

emperor was on his way to St. Helena, poor Labedoyere was shot on the

plain of Grenelle, for the "treason" of re-swearing fealty to the

original master he had loved so well.

On the 9th of March, Bonaparte appeared before Lyons, which he entered

without resistance. Once in possession of this important city, and

hailed Emperor by his beloved soldiery, Bonaparte assumed the

"sovereignty and dominion" which he had "renounced" for ever.

"Frenchmen!" he said, after his sententious but stirring manner, "there

is no nation, however small it may be, which has not had the right, and

which may not withdraw itself from the disgrace of obeying a prince

imposed on it by an enemy momentarily victorious. When Charles VII.

re-entered Paris, and overthrew the ephemeral throne of Henry V., he

acknowledged that he held his throne from the valour of his heroes, and

_not from a Prince Regent of England_."

Although the troops assembled around him were comparatively a handful,

Bonaparte had unquestionably obtained sufficient assurance of the

general disposition of the army in his favour. Preparations indeed had

been made for collecting a large body of troops at Melun for the

immediate protection of Paris, while another was posted at

Fontainebleau, so as to place the adventurer as it were between two

fires. The greatest hopes were derived from the professed loyalty to the

Bourbon cause of Marshal Ney, who had spontaneously presented himself at

the Tuileries and proffered his services to the king. With the marshal,

12,000 or 15,000 men were posted at Lons-le-Saulnier, whence it was

understood that he would fall on the rear of Bonaparte. Instead of doing

so, he joined him at Auxerre with his whole division, which had already

hoisted (under his orders) the tri-coloured flag. This defection

practically decided the contest; and Bonaparte entered Paris on the

evening of the 20th as a conqueror, received everywhere by the military

in triumph.

Meanwhile, on the 13th of March, the powers who had signed the Treaty of

Paris assembled in congress at Vienna, "being informed of the escape of

Napoleon Bonaparte, and of his entrance into France with an armed

force," issued a formal declaration, in which they stated that, "by thus

breaking the convention which established him on the island of Elba,

Bonaparte had destroyed the only legal title on which his existence

depended; ... deprived himself of the protection of the law; and

manifested to the universe that there could be neither peace nor truce

with him. The powers consequently declared that he had placed himself

without the pale of civil and social relations, and as an enemy and

disturber of the tranquility of the world, rendered himself liable to

public vengeance;" and, by a treaty concluded at Vienna on the 25th of

March, Great Britain, Austria, Russia, and Prussia bound themselves to

maintain the Treaty of Paris of 30th May, 1814, and for that purpose

each was to keep constantly in the field a force of 150,000 men, and not

lay down their arms until Bonaparte should have been rendered absolutely

unable to create disturbance, and "renew his attempts for possessing

himself of the supreme power in France."

REAPPEARANCE OF BONAPARTE.

The excitement which this portentous event occasioned amongst the

nations of Europe is admirably realized by a caricature of George

Cruikshank's, published by Fores on the 6th of April, and entitled, _The

Congress Dissolved before the Cake was Cut up_. Alexander, engaged in

cutting up the cake (_i.e._ Europe), and apportioning to each

nationality a share of the whole, drops the knife as Napoleon rushes in

among them, with the tremendous cocked hat, huge sword, and boots

assigned to him on the authority of James Gillray. Crushing under his

feet the "Decrees of the Congress," "An Account of the Deliverance of

Europe," "A Plan for the Security of Europe," and other documents of a

similar character, he shouts to the affrighted company, "Avast! ye

bunglers; the cake you have been these six months disputing about the

cutting up, I will do in as many hours." Holland in his fright has

dropped off his stool to the ground. "O Donner and Blixen!" he exclaims,

"_my_ Hollands is all gone!" "I thought England had promised to guard

him," says Saxony, alluding to the kind of naval supervision of Elba by

English armed cruisers, which appears to have been exercised, so far as

we can see, without any _direct_ claim on our part to control the

movements of Bonaparte. "Hold him! seize him!" cries Austria. "Seize

him! kill him!" re-echoes Prussia.[71] "Who'll begin?--There's the rub!"

is the sensible observation of Sweden. "Oh dear! oh dear!" groans his

holiness the Pope, crowned with a composite hat, the crown of which is

composed of his mitre; "what will become of me?" The only one who says

nothing, but seems prepared to act with determination and promptitude,

is the representative of England, who is shown in the act of drawing his

sword.

Napoleon (we need not say) did not exactly act as the caricaturist

describes: he endeavoured to re-establish relations with the foreign

powers. On the 14th of April, however, Coulaincourt, the minister of

foreign affairs, published his report to the emperor, giving an account

of the result of the applications which had been made to foreign courts.

From this it appeared that while no communication was permitted with the

actual government of France, all the allied powers were diligently

making preparation for war. "In all parts of Europe at once," said the

minister, "they are arming, or marching, or ready to march." The powers,

of course, were acting strictly within the terms of their expressed

declaration to make "neither peace nor truce with Bonaparte." The

emperor's practical reply to this declaration was made in the Champ de

Mars on the 1st of June. Descending from his throne, he distributed the

imperial eagles to the troops of the line and the national guards as

they marched past, and swore to defend them at the hazard of their

lives, and to suffer no foreigners to dictate laws to their country. All

this time reinforcements were being despatched from England without

intermission, and the Duke of Wellington had arrived to take command of

the troops, native and foreign, in Belgium. There was nothing left for

Napoleon except to fight. In the latter end of May, the headquarters of

the French army of the north was established at Avesnes, in French

Flanders; while, in the apprehension of an invasion by the allied armies

on that part, Laon and the Castle of Guise were put in a defensive

condition. On the 12th of June Bonaparte left Paris, accompanied by

Marshal Bertrand and General Drouet, and proceeded to Laon.

TRI-COLOURED "EAGLES."

At this point we meet with a piece of George Cruikshank's handiwork

which is curious as indicative of the spirit which pervaded England at

this momentous period. I am not at present in a position to refer to a

newspaper of the period; but it would appear from the sketch referred to

that, on or about the very day that Napoleon left Paris to join the

splendid army which six days afterwards was so disastrously routed at

Waterloo, a city fete was held at the Mansion House, at which that

eccentric and sturdy nationalist, Sir William Curtis, whose face and

figure were a fortune to the caricaturists of the period, covered the

floor of the Mansion House with the tri-coloured eagles captured from

the French in Peninsular battle-fields, while the banners of England

domineered from the walls above. The exceedingly rare sketch which

illustrates this incident is labelled appropriately by the artist,

_Opening of Sir William Curtis's Campaign against the French Colours_.

Six days afterwards, the star of Napoleon Bonaparte had set for ever in

the lurid and ensanguined battle clouds of Waterloo. Scarcely one month

later on--that is to say, on the 15th of July, 1815--he had surrendered

to Captain Maitland, of his majesty's ship _Bellerophon_, under

circumstances which, while they reflect no discredit on the honour of

that gallant officer, seem to us, so far as England was herself

concerned, scarcely to have justified her subsequent treatment of the

great but unfortunate emperor. With this, however, we have nothing to

do. The _Bellerophon_ on the evening of the 23rd, brought the

distinguished exile within sight of the coast of England, a

circumstance to which a subsequent caricature (_etched_ by the artist)

has reference. On the 6th of September was published by Fores, _Boney's

Threatened Invasion brought to bear, or Taking a View of the English

Coast from ye Poop of the Bellerophon_. The little emperor, confined to

the mast by a chain fastened to his leg, leaps on the breech of one of

the _Bellerophon's_ guns, spy-glass in hand. "By gar, mon Empereur,"

says Count Bertrand, "dey have erect von prospect for you." The

"prospect" is far from encouraging--a fort with the English flag flying

from the central tower, and a gibbet erected in front of it. No wonder

that the emperor expresses himself dissatisfied with a "prospect" of so

lugubrious a character. An English sailor seated on a neighbouring gun,

delivers the sentiments of the day after the plain-spoken fashion of his

countrymen. This design, which is by no means in the artist's usual

style, was etched by him from the design of some one whose name or

initials are not recorded.

The actual circumstance to which the foregoing sketch refers is related

to us by the commander of the _Bellerophon_:--

"At daybreak on the 24th of July, we were close off Dartmouth. Count

Bertrand went into the cabin and informed Bonaparte of it, who came upon

deck about half-past four, and remained on the poop until the ship

anchored in Torbay. He talked with admiration of the coast, saying, 'You

have in that respect a great advantage over France, which is surrounded

by rocks and dangers.' On opening Torbay, he was much struck with the

beauty of the scenery, and exclaimed, 'What a beautiful country! It

very, very much resembles the bay of Porto Ferrago, in Elba.'"[72]

The same year, and on the same subject, the artist gives us _Boney's

Meditations on the Island of St. Helena, or the Devil addressing the

Sun_, in which the idea is manifestly borrowed from a design by James

Gillray; _The Corsican's Last Trip under the Guidance of his Good Angel_

[the devil]; _The Genius of France Expounding her Laws to the Sublime

People_; and a very admirable and original design, _The Pedigree of

Corporal Violet_; all of which are etched from the designs of other

artists.

Hardly was Napoleon despatched to the island prison which was so shortly

to prove his grave, and replaced by the unwieldly Louis, than the latter

came in for his full share of satire. In another of George Cruikshank's

caricatures of the same year, he shows us _The Royal Laundress_ [Louis

the Eighteenth] _Washing Boney's Court Dresses_, Napoleon watching the

process the while from St. Helena. "Ha, ha!" he laughs, "such an old

woman as _you_ might rub a long while before they'll be all white, for

they are tri-coloured in _grain_." Another shows us fat Louis climbing

the _mat de cocagne_ (soaped pole) and clutching the crown of France; he

clambers up on the shoulders of Austria, Russia, and Prussia, his

immediate supporter being England. Napoleon watches his progress from

across the sea; "_I_ climbed up," he says, "twice, without _any_ help."

Other subjects of the year are: _Friends in Need_, and _John's Dream, or

the Prince and Old England for Ever!_

1816. AVERSION OF THE REGENT TO RETRENCHMENT.

The repugnance of the Regent to the economical measures which were

forced upon the ministry in 1816 is well-known. The people complained

with every just reason of the pressure of taxes, which were levied, as

they said, upon the industrious, to be squandered in extravagant

salaries, sinecures, and unmerited pensions. They complained of the

large standing army, which the Regent insisted to be necessary for the

maintenance of "our position and high character among the European

powers." The prince's aversion to the popular cry for retrenchment and

reform is shown by one of George's caricatures entitled, _Sick of the

Property Tax, or Ministerial Influenza_, published by Fores on the 8th

of March, 1816, where we see the ministers vomiting into a huge

receptacle labelled "Budget," the matter voided consisting of "Standing

armies," "Property tax," "Increase of salaries," and so on. The gouty,

self-indulgent prince hobbles up to his ministers on a pair of crutches

marked respectively, "More economy" and "Increase of income." Under his

arms he carries bundles of accounts, most of which relate to his own

private expenditure, and are labelled, "Expenses of [Brighton]

Pavilion," of "Furniture," "Drinking expenses." "Aye, this comes," he

exclaims, "of your cursed pill economy, which you forced me to take a

month back; no one knows what I have suffered from this economical

spasm. I am afraid we shall all be laid up together." On the table

behind him lie the medicines which have been prescribed for him, certain

pills labelled "Petitions against the property tax," and a huge bolus

ticketed "economy," "to be taken immediately." On the same subject a

month later on is a sketch by an amateur, etched by the artist, bearing

the title of _Economical Humbug of 1816, or Saving at the Spiggot and

Letting Out at the Bunghole_. From a series of small vats, "Assessed

taxes," "Property tax," "Customs," "Excise," and other streams of

"supply," are pouring into a huge vat labelled "The Treasury of J.

Bull's Vital Spirits." Vansittart, Chancellor of the Exchequer, is

carefully drawing off what he requires into a small bucket for the

"Public Service." "You see," he says to Mr. Bull, who looks admiringly

on, "I am not a quibbling pettifogger, I am a man of my word; for you

see I have thrown away the great _war_ spiggot, and have substituted a

small _peace_ one in its stead, which will cause an unknown saving to

you." This is all very well; but the gouty Regent has also tapped the

vat on the other side, and draws off the supplies in a copious stream

into a receptacle labelled, "Deficiencies of the Civil List." His

friends and boon companions are bringing up a fresh supply of empty

vessels to be filled in their turn; one carries a barrel marked, "For

household troops and standing army"; another is labelled, "Sinecures,

places, and pensions"; a third, "For cottages and pavilions"; and a

fourth, "L60,000 for fun." "Come, my friends," says the prince, "make

haste and fill your buckets, whilst Van is keeping noisy Johnny quiet

with fine speeches and promises of economy, which I am determined not to

practise as long as I can get anything to expend; and while he is saving

at the spiggot, we will have it out of the bunghole."[73]

_Preparing for the Match, or the 2nd of May, 1816_, has reference to the

marriage of the Princess Charlotte of Wales, who, as we have already

seen, was on that day united to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. It had

been preceded by a well-designed but most indelicate satire, labelled

_Royal Nuptials_, published by J. Johnstone on the 1st of April, in

which the prince is seen landing on our shores in a state of

destitution, with a pitiable lack of certain necessary articles of

clothing, which are being handed to him by John Bull in the guise of a

countryman. The _dramatis personae_ are seven in number: Prince Leopold,

John Bull, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the gouty Regent, the

Princess Charlotte, old Queen Charlotte, with her snuff-box, and, behind

her, an old woman intended, I believe, for the poor old king himself.

The same year we find two other indelicate subjects: _A Bazaar_, a skit

upon the immorality and costume of the period, comprising thirty

figures; and another, in allusion to the marriage of the Princess Mary

with her cousin, the Duke of Gloucester, on the 22nd of July, 1816. To

those who have asserted that George Cruikshank "never pandered to

sensuality ... or raised a laugh at the expense of decency," that

"satire in his hands never degenerated into savagery or scurrility," I

would commend the serious consideration of the three satires I have last

named.

THE ELGIN MARBLES.

At the time Egypt was in the power of the French, during the early part

of the century, Lord Elgin had quitted England upon a mission to the

Ottoman Porte. A great change has taken place in the attitude and

bearing of the Turks towards other European nations during the last half

century; but even at this time the contempt and dislike which had

characterized them in their behaviour towards every denomination of

Christians still prevailed in full force. The success, however, of the

British arms in Egypt, and the expected restitution of that province to

the Porte, seem to have wrought a wonderful and instantaneous change in

the disposition of that power and its people towards ourselves;[74] and

Lord Elgin, availing himself of these favourable circumstances, obtained

in the summer of 1801, access to the Acropolis of Athens for general

purposes, with a concession to "make excavations and to take away any

stones that might appear interesting to himself." The result (shortly

stated) was the excavation of the once celebrated "Elgin marbles," about

which, if we are to credit the report from which we glean this

information, his lordship would seem to have expended (including the

interest of capital) some L74,000. The committee recommend the House,

under these circumstances, coupled with the valuations which they had

obtained from competent authorities, that L35,000 was "a reasonable and

sufficient price to be paid for the collection," and their purchase

appears to have been completed on the basis of these figures, a fact

which forms the subject of the artist's undated and admirable satire of

_John Bull Buying Stones at the Time his Numerous Family Want Bread_.

Unsigned, and under date of 25th of November, 1816, I find a caricature

published by Fores, which seems to me due to the hand of George

Cruikshank. It is entitled, _The Nightmayor_, "painted by Fuzeley," and

represents a debased woman in the stertorous sleep of drunkenness, whose

muddled dream-thoughts revert to the experiences with which her evil

habits have made her so frequently familiar. The gin drinker has been

brought before the Lord Mayor any number of times for being "drunk and

disorderly," and accordingly her _nightmare_ assumes the form of the

city official, who sits upon the body clothed in his robes and invested

with the insignia of his office. Appended to the satire are the

following lines:--

"The night mayor flitting through the evening fogs,

Traverses alleys, streets, courts, lanes, and bogs,

Seeking some love-bewilder'd maid by gin oppress'd,

Alights--and sits upon her downy breast."

The only other caricature of George I have to notice under date of 1816

is entitled, _State Physicians Bleeding John Bull to Death_. (*)

1817.

In our third chapter we referred to the distress which prevailed amongst

the industrial classes during the two years which followed the fall of

Bonaparte.[75] We meet with an exceedingly rare pictorial satire by

George Cruikshank, which relates to this state of things; it bears the

title of, _John Bull Brought up for a Discharge, but Remanded on Account

of Extravagance and False Schedule_, and was published by Fores on the

29th of March, 1817. John Bull, a bankrupt, is being publicly examined

as to the causes of his failure: "Being desired by the court to give

some explanation [on the subject of the prodigious difference between

his debts and his assets], he said that he had been persuaded originally

to join with some of the parishioners in indicting his neighbour, Mr.

Frog, for keeping a disorderly house; that they had engaged to bear

their part of the expenses, but had all sneaked off one by one, and left

him to pay the whole, and carry on the proceedings. It had at last,

after being moved from one court to another, become a suit in Chancery;

and he had been advised by the gentleman whom he had always consulted on

these matters, and who was now dead, to go on and persevere, for that he

would be sure to get a final decree in his favour, and all the costs. He

had at last, in fact, got a decree in his favour, about two years since,

before Lord Chancellor Wellington, and for the costs; but not a farthing

had ever been paid, nor was it likely to be; on the contrary, Mr. Frog

had surrendered himself, and gone to prison, where he was now living at

this moment, at his [Mr. Bull's] expense. Besides, the house in question

was now opened again under a new license, granted by the magistrates of

the district ... or rather, a renewal of the old one, in favour of the

brother of the person who had kept it formerly, ... and the new

landlord had taken down the late sign of the Bee Hive, and put up the

old one of the _Fleur-de-lis_; but it was nearly as disorderly as ever,

and the magistrates were obliged to keep up a great number of special

constables to preserve the peace of the neighbourhood."[76]

John Bull, in his best blue coat and white waistcoat, and suffering

under an attack of gout is going through the ordeal of his public

examination before the judge. In front of this functionary is the

bankrupt's schedule, on which we read the following items:--

"Amount of Income L24,000,000

Expenditure 80,000,000

Dr. Nick Frog 10,000,000

Paul Bruin 1,000,000

Frank Force-child 8,000,000

Will Eagle Eye 6,000,000

Ferd. Faithless 30,000,000."

In the body of the court, and separated from the commissioner by a

wooden enclosure, the upper edge of which is lined with bayonets

pointing inwards, are a number of the bankrupt's wretched creditors,

whom Death, clothed in a red coat and armed with a mace, vainly strives

to keep quiet. "Ck. fect." in such faint letters that they might easily

escape detection, is appended to this remarkable composition.

In our third chapter we also referred to the serious disturbances which

followed and were the consequences of the public discontents of 1817,

and the fact that the names of four informers, Castle, Oliver, Edwards,

and Franklin were identified with those of the chief fomenters of

sedition in the metropolis and the northern counties.[77] In further

illustration of the satires in which these fellows put in an appearance,

we have one by George Cruikshank (published by Fores on the 1st of

July), and labelled, _Conspirators, or Delegates in Council_. We may

here mention that on the 9th of June, one Watson, a surgeon, was tried

for high treason at Westminster Hall, and acquitted on the 16th,

whereupon the Attorney General abandoned the prosecution against

Thistlewood, Preston, and Hooper, who were also indicted under a like

charge. All the accused were in indigent or humble circumstances, and

the chief witness against them appears to have been Castle. Among the

five persons sitting round the table, we recognise Castle (whose

villainous face is turned towards us) and Oliver. The others we cannot

identify. The aristocratic looking gentleman receiving them so blandly

is my Lord Castlereagh. "Don't you think, my lord," says the person next

him, "Don't you think that our friends Castle and Oliver should be sent

to Lisbon or somewhere, as consul-generals or envoys?" "Can't you," says

his lordship to the beetle-browed ruffians by way of rejoinder, "Can't

you _negotiate_ for some boroughs?" John Bull, looking through the

window at these negotiations, with much indignation, and recognising in

these fellows the rascals by whom he has been "ensnared into

[committing] criminal acts," hints in very plain terms that the conduct

pursued by such men was the high road to political favour in 1817. Among

the papers on the table we notice a "Plan for the attack on the Regent's

carriage;"[78] a bundle of "treasonable papers to be slipped into the

pockets of some duped artisans;" another, indicating the "means to be

taken to implicate Sir Francis Burdett, Lord Cochrane," and other

popular agitators of that day; "A list of victims in Ireland," and so

on. On the floor at his lordship's feet lie some of the tri-coloured

flags unfurled at the Spafields meeting; the obvious inference intended

to be conveyed being of course that the Government were really at the

bottom of the popular disturbances.

_R-y-l Condescension, or a Foreign Minister Astonished_, published by

Fores on the 15th of September, 1817, is one of George Cruikshank's most

finished but at the same time indelicate compositions. It refers to the

rumours affecting the Princess Caroline's reputation which preceded the

"bill of pains and penalties," to which we have already alluded. It

appears to us to have originated out of the following circumstance. It

was asserted that at a masked ball which the princess had given shortly

after she left England to the then King of Naples, Joachim Murat, she

appeared in three different disguises; that in one of these, "The Genius

of History," she had appeared in so unclothed a state as to call for

particular observation; her third disguise was a Turkish costume. It was

further asserted that in her changes of dress she had been assisted, not

by her female attendants, but by the person with whom her name was so

familiarly associated. In the sketch before us, Her Royal Highness's

corpulent and redundant figure is clothed in a tight-fitting Turkish

dress and trousers, her head being covered by a ponderous turban. The

five figures composing her "suite" are the Courier Bartolomeo Bergami,

his brothers Louis and Vollotti Bergami, his sister, and William Austin,

the youth she had adopted,[79] and who, it was proved, slept in her

bed-chamber. The whole are decorated with the crosses and ribbons of the

absurd order which she was said to have instituted. The courtly, well

dressed foreign gentleman to whom she is introducing these vulgar

persons appears to be intended for Metternich, who, while thanking Her

Royal Highness for her "condescension," looks the very picture of

unfeigned but well-bred astonishment.

DEATH OF PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.

In the evening of the 18th of November, 1817, a mournful procession, at

which all the great officers of state attended, quitted Claremont House

_en route_ for Windsor. At the impressive ceremony which followed,

Garter King at Arms proclaimed its melancholy purport in the following

words: "Thus it has pleased Almighty God to take out of this transitory

life, unto His Divine mercy, the late most illustrious Princess

Charlotte Augusta, daughter of His Royal Highness, George, Prince of

Wales, Regent of the United Kingdom." It was even so. The pride and hope

of the nation, the heiress of the crown, was on the 6th of November

delivered of a still-born child, and within a very few hours afterwards

had succumbed to the unlooked-for and fatal exhaustion which followed.

The grief which this occasioned was so universal that every one seemed

to realize the fact that he or she had sustained an individual loss;

scarcely perhaps in English history had the death of a member of a royal

family been more sincerely and truly regretted. The mournful event is

referred to by the artist in a more than usually touching sketch,

entitled, _England's Hope Departing_. Among the medical attendants of

Her Royal Highness who followed her to the grave, was the accoucheur,

Sir Richard Croft, Bart. This distinguished gentleman was so deeply

affected with the unlooked-for result, that his mind refused to recover

its tone, and within a month afterwards he committed self-destruction.

Other pictorial satires of George Cruikshank, bearing the date of 1817,

are: _Fashionables of 1817_, two figures--a male and female--outrageously

caricatured, a rough affair, altogether differing from his usual style;

the well-known _double entendre_, _A View of the Regent's Bomb_, which,

with our knowledge of his sensitiveness on the subject of his personal

appearance, must have given the exalted personage thus outrageously

satirized the greatest possible mortification; _The Spa Fields Orator

Hunting for Popularity to do Good_, (*) a punning satire on "Orator" Hunt;

_A Patriot Luminary Extinguishing Noxious Gas_ (etched from the design of

another artist); and two admirable designs bearing the titles of

_Vis-a-Vis_ and _Les Graces_. The same year we meet with one of the

earliest of his alliterative satires, afterwards so frequently to be seen

among the famous illustrations to the "Comic Almanack": _La Belle

Assemblee, or Sketches of Characteristic Dancing_, miscellaneous groups,

comprising in all thirty figures (exclusive of the orchestra), engaged in

a country dance, a Scotch reel, an Irish jig, a minuet, the German waltz,

a French quadrille, the Spanish bolero, and a ballet "Italienne." The

walls are hung with pictures of dancing dogs, a dancing bear, a dancing

horse, rope dancing, the dance of St. Vitus, and "Dancing Mad." Besides

this, we find the same year two large sheets showing the _Striking Effects

produced by Lines and Dots, for the Assistance of every Draughtsman_,

suggested by, but a very vast improvement on, G. M. Woodward's _Multum in

Parvo, or Liliputian Sketches, showing what may be done by Lines and

Dots_.

1818. ADULTERATION OF TEA.

A report of the House of Commons, showing how four million pounds weight

of sloe, liquorice, and ash-tree leaves were annually mixed with Chinese

teas in England, was supplemented by a trial in the Court of Exchequer,

in which a grocer named Palmer was fined in L840 penalties, for the

fabrication of spurious tea. It appeared that there was a regular

manufactory of imitation tea in Goldstone Street, which was composed of

thorn leaves, which, after passing through a peculiar process, were

coloured with logwood; the same leaves, after being pressed and dried,

were laid upon sheets of copper, coloured with verdigris and Dutch pink,

and sold as _green_ tea. These revelations led, in 1818, to the artist's

admirable caricature of _The T Trade in Hot-water, or a Pretty Kettle of

Fish: dedicated to J. Canister and T. Spoon, Esquires_. Besides these,

we have the same year: _An Interesting Scene on Board an East Indian_, a

very coarse but admirable performance; _Introduction to the Gout_ (a

fiend dropping a hot coal on the toe of a _bon vivant_); _A Fine Lady,

or the Incomparable_, in which it appears to us that Robert had a hand;

_Les Savoyards_ and _Le Palais Royal de Paris_; _Comparative Anatomy, or

the Dandy Trio_; and _The Art of Walking the Streets of London_, eight

subjects, etched by the artist after the design of George Moutard

Woodward.

[Illustration:

_Designed, Etched and Published by_ GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. _November 1st,

1829._

"A SCENE IN KENSINGTON GARDENS, OR FASHIONS AND FRIGHTS OF 1829."

_Face p. 152._]

On the 4th of December, 1818, the number of convicts lying under

sentence of death in his Majesty's gaol of Newgate, amounted to no less

than sixty, of whom ten were females; probably not three of these

unfortunate beings would have been hung now-a-days. Under the Draconian

laws, however, then in force, people were hung in scores for passing

forged one-pound Bank of England notes; and this barbarous state of

things, disgraceful to a Christian country, led to the famous and

telling satire of the _Bank Restriction Note_, one of the very few which

seem to have escaped oblivion, and which, having been repeated and

reproduced in all the latest essays which have been written on him,

calls for no extra description from ourselves. It is said to have had

the effect desired, and that "no man or woman was ever hanged after this

for passing forged one-pound Bank of England notes."

1819.

In 1819 we have one of George Cruikshank's severe and telling attacks

upon the Prince Regent, in _Sales by Auction, or Provident Children

disposing of their Deceased Mother's Effects for the Benefit of the

Creditors_ (*), in which he shows us the prince knocking down (in his

character of auctioneer) his dead mother's old hats, gowns, and

clothing, and begging the bystanders to bid liberally. At the foot of

the rostrum lie sundry snuff-boxes and pots, labelled "Queen's Mixture"

and "Prince's Mixture" (in allusion to the old queen's habits),

"Strasburg" (in reference to her German tastes and nationality),

together with her old china tea-set.

This year is remarkable for producing perhaps the most ambitious and

admirable allegory which the artist ever designed; it bears the title of

_Old Thirty-nine Shaking Hands with his Good Brother the Pope of Italy,

or Covering Up_ versus _Sealing the Bible_. Old Thirty-nine (an English

bishop) stands on a pile of volumes labelled, "Never-out-ism,"

"Ante-biblism," "Never-the-same-ism," etc., whilst the pope, standing on

the opposite side on a mass of books bearing similar suggestive titles,

shakes hands with his "good brother." By the pope's side we find the

devil busily engaged in sealing up the Bible. Behind him stands the

Temple of Mammon, surrounded by a crowd of reverend worshippers. Two

fiends standing by the side of "Old Thirty-nine" make preparations for a

bonfire, to which sundry bundles labelled, "Articles of Faith,"

"Athanasian Creed," "Catechism," "Liturgies," "Nicene Creed," and so on,

will contribute materials. Out of a building in the rear, inscribed,

"National School for Thirty-niners only," issues a procession of

ecclesiastics and beadles carrying banners. In the foreground stands the

figure of "Divine Truth," surrounded by little children, and perusing

the pages of the "Holy Bible," held for that purpose by an angel. A

roughly executed affair in two compartments, _Preachee and Floggee Too_,

satirizes certain clerical magistrates who, while preaching mercy and

forgiveness in the pulpit, distinguish themselves by the severity of

their sentences for minor offences on the magisterial bench. The titles

of other subjects of the year are: _The Hobby Horse Dealer_; _Johnny

Bull and his Forged Notes, or Rags and Ruin in the Paper Currency_;

_Smoke Jack, the Alarmist, Extinguishing the Second Great Fire of

London_; _Love, Law, and Physic_ (*); _The Sailor's Progress_ (six

subjects); _Dandies in France, or Le Restorateur_ (*); _A Match for the

King's Plate_; _The Belle Alliance, or the Female Reformers of

Blackburn_ (*); _Voila t'on mort_; and _Royal Red Bengal Tiger_ (etched

from the designs of other artists); _Irish Decency_ (two caricatures);

_Giant Grumbo and the Black Dwarf, or Lord G---- and the Printers

Devil_; and _Our Tough old Ship Steered Safely into Harbour maugre

Sharks of the Day_ (*).

An unsigned caricature, published by Fores on the 15th of May, 1819,

appears to me to be due to the hand of George Cruikshank. It bears the

title of _The Dandy Tailor Planning a New Hungry Dress_, and would

appear to have reference to some contemplated introduction of foreign

mercenaries into the English service. The tailor, while stitching a

military jacket, sings a song of which the following is a verse,--

"A tailor there was, and he lived in a stall,

Which served him for palace, for kitchen, and hall.

No coin in his pocket, no nous in his pate,

No ambition has he, nor no wish to be great.

Derry down, down, down, derry down!"

A foreigner enters in military costume, introducing two foreign

mercenaries. "Dese men," he says, "will teach you de proper vay to make

de Hungarian soldats. I did bring dem expres'. Observe des grands

mustaches. No more English soldats." A military figure in jack boots,

standing by the side of the tailor, holds the "goose" in readiness for

his master's use. The Prince Regent, especially as George the Fourth,

was fond of inventing new military costumes, and Mr. Greville describes

him in 1829 (the year before his death) as "employed in devising a new

dress for the guards;" but by the mitre at his back, and the reference

to his impecunious position, I should take this "tailor" to be intended

for the Duke of York.

1820.

_Ah! sure such a pair was never seen, so justly formed to meet by

nature!_ (*) represents a couple of pears, in which we recognise

likenesses of George the Fourth and Queen Caroline, the features of the

king being expressive of strong disgust. After Lord Liverpool had

decided not to send the "Bill of Pains and Penalties" to the Commons,

for the reason stated in a previous chapter, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen,

and Common Council of the City of London distinguished themselves by

presenting, on the 10th of December, an address to their "most gracious

sovereign," complaining of things in general, and of public expenditure

in particular, the real cause of complaint, however, being "the alleged

criminality" which, as the petitioners stated, had been "falsely

ascribed" to the queen. This address, which was conceived in the worst

possible taste, concluded with the following outrageous prayer: "We

therefore humbly pray your Majesty to dismiss from your presence and

councils for ever those ministers whose pernicious measures have so long

endangered the throne, undermined the constitution, and blighted the

prosperity of the nation." Now, only fancy any Corporation of London in

our time signalizing itself by presenting a petition to "Her Most

Gracious Majesty," complaining of the measures of Lord Beaconsfield or

Mr. Gladstone, and praying her to dismiss them from her councils! The

king returned the following answer: "It has been with the most painful

feelings that I have heard the sentiments contained in the address and

petition now presented to me by the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common

Council of the City of London. Whatever may be the motives of those by

whom it is brought forward, its evident tendency is to inflame the

passions and mislead the judgment of the unwary and less enlightened

part of my subjects, and thus to aggravate all the difficulties with

which we have to contend." This episode suggested to George one of the

most admirable of his caricatures: _A Scene in the New Farce as

performed at the Royalty Theatre_. The corpulent monarch, in the

character and costume of Henry the Eighth, is receiving a number of

deputations from all parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland, bearing

petitions praying him to dismiss his ministry, the members of which

stand on each side of the throne, one of the number being habited as a

jester. This exceedingly rare plate carries on it the following

explanation: "King Henry VIII. being petitioned to dismiss his ministers

and council by the citizens of London and many boroughs, to relieve his

oppressed subjects, made the citizens this sagacious reply: 'We, with

all our cabinet, think it strange that ye who be but _brutes_ and

inexpert folk, should tell us who be and who be not fit for our

council.'"

1821.

Another of George Cruikshank's rare and valuable contributions to the

Queen Caroline series of pictorial satires is labelled _The Royal

Rushlight_, which many people (among them the Chancellor and corpulent

George) are vainly endeavouring to blow out. By way (it may be) of

contrast, this excellent satire has appended to it the following

miserable doggerel,--

"Cook, coachee, men and maids, very nearly all in buff,

Came and swore in their lives they never met with such a light;

And each of the _family_ by turns had a puff

At the little farthing rushlight.

But none of the family could blow out the rushlight."

DEATH OF QUEEN CAROLINE.

With the year 1821 came the closing scene in the drama of Caroline's

unhappy but singularly undignified career. On the occasion of the king's

coronation she had applied to Lord Liverpool, desiring to be informed

what arrangements had been made for her convenience, and who were

appointed her attendants at the approaching ceremony. An answer was

returned that, "it was a right of the Crown to give or withhold the

order for her Majesty's coronation, and that his Majesty would be

advised not to give any directions for her participation in the

arrangements;" but with the obstinacy of purpose which was so fatal a

blemish in her character, and which seems to have been the primary cause

of all her misfortunes, she insisted on her right, and declared moreover

her firm intention of attending the ceremony. A respectful but

peremptory reply was returned, reasserting the legal prerogative of the

Crown, and announcing that the former intimation must be understood as

amounting to a _prohibition_ of her attendance. She was however so

ill-advised as to present herself early on the morning of the day (the

19th of July) at the doors of the Abbey of Westminster. The door-keepers

refused to allow her to enter as queen; and she was forced to submit to

the mortification of having to retire without having succeeded (as it

was her evident intention to have done) in marring the arrangements for

the splendid ceremony. By this time the enthusiasm in her favour had

greatly evaporated, and she was received even coldly by her friends the

assembled mob. The mortification proved fatal to her; very shortly

afterwards she was taken ill, and died in less than three weeks after

the unnecessary mortification to which she had thus insisted on exposing

herself.

It is probable that if the wishes of her executors had been allowed to

be carried out, the unfortunate woman would have been carried to her

grave in peace. She had directed that her remains should, three days

after her death, be carried to Brunswick for interment; and had Lord

Liverpool been wise, he would have left the executors to carry out the

arrangements after their own fashion. Unfortunately, the Government

decided to take the arrangements into their own hands, and to lay down

the route (the shortest) by which the mournful procession should proceed

to Harwich. No fault can be found with the arrangements themselves,

which were intended to pay the greatest respect to the memory of the

deceased; but the cautions they took brought about the very result they

were anxious to avoid, and at once revived all the slumbering sympathies

of the mob in favour of the unhappy queen. A squabble took place at the

outset, Dr. Lushington, as one of the executors, protesting against the

removal of the corpse; but, escorted by squadrons of Horse-guards Blue,

the procession left Brandenburg House at eight o'clock in the morning of

the 15th of August, in a drizzling rain. The cavalcade reached

Kensington in solemn order; but on arriving at the Gravel Pits, and

attempting to turn off to the left, its progress was instantly blocked

by wagons and carts placed across the road, while a body of men formed

across the streets twenty deep and evinced every disposition to dispute

the passage. A severe conflict took place between them and the

constables, several on both sides being hurt. For an hour and a half

the procession waited for orders, and at length it moved towards London.

On reaching Kensington Gore a squadron of the Life Guards, with a

magistrate at their head, tried in vain to open the park gates, the

crowd vociferating in the meantime, "To the city! the city!" On reaching

Hyde Park Corner, the gate there was found barricaded with carts, and

the procession then moved on to Park Lane, which being also blocked up,

it turned back hastily and entered Hyde Park, through which it proceeded

at a trot, the soldiers having cleared away the obstacles at the gate.

On reaching Cumberland Gate, it was found closed by the populace, and in

the conflict which ensued the park wall was thrown down by the pressure

of the crowd, who hurled the stones at the soldiers, in return for the

use the latter had made of their sabres in clearing the passage. Many of

the military and their horses were hurt; and some of the soldiers,

irritated by their rough usage, resorted to their pistols and carbines,

and two persons (Richard Honey, a carpenter, and George Francis, a

bricklayer) were unfortunately killed, and others wounded. The Edgeware

Road was blockaded, but quickly cleared, and the procession moved on

till it arrived at the turnpike gate near the top of Tottenham Court

Road. There the mob made so determined a stand that further opposition

was deemed unadvisable, and the popular will being at length acceded to,

the cavalcade forthwith took its way into the city. Every street through

which a turn could have been made in order to enter the New Road or the

City Road was found barricaded. As the funeral passed through the city,

the Oxford Blues doing duty there, who had not participated in the

outrage, were cordially greeted by the populace on either side of the

street. The inquests on the bodies of the dead men lasted for a

considerable period. In the case of Francis, a verdict of "wilful murder

against a life guardsman unknown" was returned; whilst in that of Honey,

the verdict was manslaughter against the officers and men of the first

regiment of Life Guards on duty at the time. This event is recorded by

George in a caricature entitled, _The Manslaughter Men, or a Horse Laugh

at the Law of the Land_,--two ghostly gory figures rising from their

graves, which are respectively inscribed, "Verdict, wilful murder," and

"Verdict, manslaughter"; a group of life guardsmen grin and point at the

body, and one of them jeeringly remarks, "Shake not thy bloody locks at

me; ye cannot say who did it." Another satire on the same subject bears

the title of _The Horse Chancellor obtaining a Verdict, or Killing no

Murder_.

Other subjects of this year are the following: _And when Ahitophel saw

that his Counsel was not followed, he Saddled his Ass, and arose and

went and Hanged himself_; _O! O! there's a Minister of the Gospel_; _The

Royal Extinguisher, or the King of Brobdingnag and the Liliputians_

(etched after the design of Isaac Robert). Six subjects, _La Diligence_

and _La Doriane_, _Venus de Medici and Mer de Glace_, _Visit to

Vesuvius_ and _Forum Boarium_, and _Nosing the Nob at Ramsgate_, a

coarsely executed satire aimed at his Majesty and his eccentric subject,

Alderman Sir William Curtis.

1822. SIR WILLIAM CURTIS.

Sir William Curtis, alderman, trader, and formerly member for the city,

is one of the most prominent figures in the satires of his time. Making

every allowance for caricature drawing, the likeness must have been on

the whole a faithful though an exaggerated one; for in all the numerous

comical sketches in which he makes an appearance, we never fail to

recognise his ruby nose and ponderous figure. We have already seen him

figuring by way of ludicrous contrast with Claude Ambroise Seurat, the

"living skeleton," and we shall now find him associated by the

caricaturists with no less a person than the king himself. When his

majesty, in 1822, paid his visit to Scotland, and by way of compliment

to the country and her traditions assumed the "garb of old Gael,"

Alderman Sir William Curtis, who followed his sovereign at a respectful

distance, out of compliment to the country, her traditions, "his most

gracious majesty," and himself, put his own corpulent form into fancy

costume, and likewise donned the Highland garb. The absurdly ludicrous

result is told us by Lockhart. "The king at his first levee diverted

many, and delighted Scott by appearing in the full Highland garb--the

same brilliant _Stewart tartans_, so-called, in which certainly no

Stewart, except Prince Charles, had ever before presented himself in

the saloons of Holyrood. His majesty's Celtic toilette had been

carefully watched and assisted by the gallant Laird of Garth, who was

not a little proud of the result of his dexterous manipulations of the

rough plaid, and pronounced the king 'a vara pretty man.' And he did

look a most stately and imposing person in that beautiful dress; but his

satisfaction therein was cruelly disturbed when he discovered, towering

and blazing among and above the genuine Glengarries and Macleods and

MacGregors, a figure even more portly than his own, equipped from a

sudden impulse of loyal ardour in an equally complete set of the

self-same conspicuous Stewart tartans:--

'He caught Sir William Curtis in a kilt--

While throng'd the chiefs of every Highland clan

To hail their brother, Vich Ian Alderman.'[80]

In truth this portentous apparition cast an air of ridicule and

caricature over the whole of Sir Walter's celtified pageantry. A sharp

little bailie from Aberdeen, who had previously made acquaintance with

the worthy Guildhall baronet, and tasted the turtle soup of his

voluptuous yacht, tortured him as he sailed down the long gallery of

Holyrood, by suggesting that after all his costume was not quite

perfect. Sir William, who had been rigged out, as the auctioneer's

advertisements say, 'regardless of expense,' exclaimed that he must be

mistaken, begged he would explain his criticism, and, as he spoke, threw

a glance of admiration on his _skene dhu_ (black knife), which, like a

true 'warrior and hunter of deer,' he wore stuck into one of his

garters. 'Oo ay! Oo ay!' quoth the Aberdonian; 'the knife's a' right,

mon--but faar's your speen?' (where's your spoon?) Such was Scott's

story; but whether he 'gave it a cocked hat and walking cane,' in the

hope of restoring the king's good humour, so grievously shaken by this

heroical _doppel ganger_, it is not very necessary to inquire."[81]

Which indeed of the absurd pair looked the most ridiculous it would be

hard to say: a great-grandson of George the Second in the Highland garb

of "Bonnie Prince Charlie," was perhaps as absurd an anachronism as a

fat cockney alderman in the same fancy costume. Our friends the

caricaturists were fully alive to these puerilities. An anonymous

caricature of the day celebrates the ludicrous event in a satire

entitled, _Equipt for a Northern Visit_, which represents the fat king

and the fat alderman in kilts, the point of the pictorial epigram lying

in the fact that the corpulent king recommends his corpulent subject to

lay aside the costume as unbecoming to a man of _his_ proportions.

George has several pictorial satires on the same fertile theme; one of

these, _Bonnie Willie_, depicts the huge man in Highland garb. A rare

and most amusing caricature shows us the supposed unfortunate _Results

of this Northern Excursion_. The fat king and his fat subject have

caught the northern complaint vulgarly termed the "Scottish fiddle," and

are vigorously going through the traditionary process of rubbing

themselves against the post, blessing the while his grace the Duke of

Argyle. An English acquaintance, not unnaturally afraid of infection,

refuses the alderman's proffered hand.

A caricature of altogether another kind commemorates a raid made by the

Bow Street officers on the numerous gaming establishments of 1822. It is

called, _Cribbage, Shuffling, Whist, and a Round Game_, is divided into

six compartments, and is most humorously and admirably treated. The

principal performers are the knaves of cards. One of the compartments

shows us the knaves on the treadmill, which is marked "Fortune's Wheel;"

while in another a knave is undergoing the discipline of the "cat," and

calling out at every stroke "E. O.! E. O.! E. O.!"[82]

STATUE OF ACHILLES.

Sir Richard Westmacott's statue of Achilles was executed in 1822. The

nude, undraped colossal figure, which was subscribed for by the ladies

of England in honour of the Duke of Wellington and his soldiers, was the

occasion of numerous contemporary satires--most of them (in those

plain-spoken days) of the broadest possible character. One of the most

indelicate (*) (drawn by the artist from the sketch or suggestion of

another) gives a burlesque front and back view of the figure, which is

surrounded by a number of people (principally ladies), among whom we

recognise a caricature likeness of the "Dook." The inscription runs as

follows: "To Arthur a Bradley, and his jolly companions every one, this

brazen image of Patrick O'Killus, Esq., is inscribed by their

countrywomen."[83] Besides the foregoing, we meet this year with _A

Lollipop-Ally Campagne and Brandy Ball_ (*); _Premium, Par, and

Discount_; _Showing-off--Bang up--Prime_ (*); and _A Sailor's

description of a Chase and Capture_ (*).

1823.

A large proportion of his satires for 1823 are aimed at Louis the

Eighteenth's Spanish expedition, the object of which we have already

related. One of these shows us _France the great Nation driven by the

North into the South_; in another, Ferdinand the Seventh and the Duc

d'Angouleme figure respectively as a _Spanish Mule and a French

Jackass_; _A French Hilt on a Spanish Rapier_, is likewise dedicated to

the Duc d'Angouleme; another shows us _Old Bumblehead the 18th trying on

Napoleon's Boots_; a fifth is entitled, _A Hint to the Blind and

Foolish, or the Bourbon Dynasty in Danger_; while a sixth shows us

_Louis the Fat troubled with Nightmare and Dreams of Terror_. In all

these caricatures, the figure of Napoleon, already sleeping his last

sleep at St. Helena--the place of his exile and of his grave--is

represented by way of contrast to the unwieldly and incompetent Bourbon.

Another caricature, the point of which I fail to see, bears the title of

_The Tables Turn'd, or the Devil Outwitted and Cruelly Punished,--a

Scene on the Portsmouth Treadmill_; this last, though said to be

"designed by an amateur," and "etched by G. Ck.," is unquestionably all

his own.

1824.

_Drilling One-tenth of the Military in the Manual Exercise_, and _Saint

Shela_ (two subjects), have reference to the Tenth Hussars and Battier

scandal, mentioned in a previous chapter;[84] other subjects of 1824

are: _Parisian Luxury_ (a man being shaved in a bath); _Preparing for a

Duel_; and _The Ostend Packet in a Squall_; all etched by George from

the designs of other artists. The mania for joint-stock companies in

1825, was scarcely equalled by the speculation mania which inaugurated

the passing in our own time of the "Limited Liability Act." In 1824 and

the beginning of 1825, two hundred and seventy-six companies had been

projected, of which the aggregate capital (on paper only) represented

L174,114,050. Thirty-three of these were established for the

construction of canals and docks, forty-eight of railroads, forty-two

for the supply of gas, six of milk, and eight of water, four for the

working of coal, and thirty-four of metal mines; twenty new insurance

companies were started, twenty-three banks, twelve navigation and packet

companies, three fisheries, two for boring tunnels under the Thames,

three for the embellishment and improvement of the metropolis, two for

sea-water baths, and the rest for miscellaneous purposes; it is a

somewhat significant fact that two only had for their object the

establishment of newspapers. Notwithstanding the manifest absurdity of

many of these projects, the shares of several--especially of the mining

adventurers in South America--rose to enormous premiums. Among the last

may be mentioned those of the Real del Monte, the price of which,

between the 10th of December and the 11th of January, rose from L550 to

L1350, and the United Mexican during the same period from L35 to L1550.

On these last shares only L10 had been paid, and on the former only L70.

Speaking of this mania, the Rev. T. F. Dibdin (in his "Reminiscences")

says, "If it did not partake of the name, it had certainly all the wild

characteristics of the South Sea Bubble. To-day you had only to put your

name down to a share or shares in the Rio de la Plata or other South

American mines, and to-morrow a supplicant purchaser would give you

fifty per cent. for every share taken. The old were bewitched ... the

young were in ecstasies. Everybody made a rush for the city. A new world

of wealth had been discovered. It was only to ask and have." George

Cruikshank refers to this state of things in a caricature called, _A

Scene in the Farce of Lofty Projects, as Performed with great success

for the benefit and amusement of John Bull_. Besides these, he gives us

_The Four Mr. Prices_ (High Price, Low Price, Full Price, and Half

Price).

I can assign no date to _Waiting on the Ladies_; _The Death of the

Property Tax, or Thirty-seven Mortal Wounds for Ministers and the

Inquisitorial Commissioners_; or to _The Court at Brighton, a la

Chinese_, one of the most admirable of the whole series. In this last,

the fat prince habited as a mandarin, is seated on a sofa between the

Princess Charlotte and an enormously fat woman, probably intended for

the Marchioness of Conyngham. He is handing to a Chinese official a

paper inscribed "Instructions for Lord Amhurst, to get fresh patterns of

Chinese deformities to finish the decorations of Pavilion G. P. R." A

specimen of regency taste and sympathies stands on a pedestal in the

form of the Hottentot Venus, while a statuette of the fat prince

himself, habited in a red coat, white waistcoat, yellow inexpressibles,

and silk stockings, is labelled the "British Adonis." The princess

recommends her papa to order the officer to bring her over "a Chinaman,

instead of getting her a husband among our German cousins." A variety of

miscellaneous articles are strewn about the floor, among them a box

containing the Regent's wigs and whiskers, a treatise on "The Art of

making Punch," the indispensable hamper of champagne, and a pair of

curling irons; while no one will fail to recognise the interior of the

Brighton Pavilion as the scene where this admirable satire is laid.

Another undated satire remains to be noticed: it represents a young man

in a boat with three young women, one of them of considerable personal

attractions, that is to say from a Cruikshankian point of view, and

evidently a likeness. On the shore stands another young woman and her

child, whom the young spark has evidently left behind him. In the stern

of the boat is a hamper of wine and a goblet fashioned out of a skull; a

noseless man rows the boat, while three sailors in an adjoining vessel

make ribald observations in reference to the young man's female

companions. By the star on his coat, the turned-down collar, profile,

and the arrangement of the hair, we take it that the person thus

satirized is Lord Byron. Any doubts we may have on the subject seem

removed by the words of the song he is supposed to be singing while

waving his hat to the disconsolate woman on the shore:--

"All my faults perchance thou knowest,

All my _madness_ none can know."

And the concluding stanza:--

"Fare thee well! thus disunited,

Torn from every nearer tie,

Seared in heart, and lone, and blighted,

More than this I scarce can die"!!

The foregoing contains a list and description of some of George

Cruikshank's graphic satires, many of which we have reason to believe

will be entirely new to the great majority of our readers. They support

the description given of him by Lockhart at the opening of our chapter:

"People consider him as a clever, sharp caricaturist, and nothing

more--a free-handed, comical young fellow, who will do anything he is

paid for, and who is quite content to dine off the proceeds of a 'George

IV.' to-day, and those of a 'Hone,' or a 'Cobbett,' to-morrow." It must

be remembered that these represent but a branch of his work; and that

while content to design a satire as elaborate and as admirable as any

which owe their origin to the hand of Gillray, or to dash off a rough

and carelessly executed caricature, he was equally ready to etch the

work of an inferior artist, or even of an amateur; to execute a drawing

on wood for a ballad, or for one of the numerous political hits of the

day, whether on the loyal or the popular side mattered but little to

him; to do anything, in fact (to use the words of Lockhart), that "was

suggested or thrown in his way." It is barely possible that the very

imperfect series we have given may astonish those who have hitherto

regarded George Cruikshank only as an illustrator of books, and supposed

that, with the exception of the woodcuts for Hone's various _jeux

d'esprits_, and the rough work which appears in "The Satirist," "The

Scourge," and publications of a similar character, he executed but few

pictorial satires. A perfect set of impressions from his caricatures

probably does not exist; if it did it would command a high price indeed.

We have seen a set of about seventy plates advertised by one

enterprising bookseller at the price of seventy pounds. The specimens we

have cited (exclusive of two from "The Scourge") 128 in number, were

published between the years 1808 and 1825, by G. and H. Humphrey, S.

Fairburn, Thomas Tegg, Ackermann, M. Jones, J. Fairburn, J. Dolby, W.

Hone, S. W. Fores, A. Bengo, J. Sidebotham, S. Knight, and J. Johnstone.

If to the foregoing we add the plates in "Cruikshankiana"--twenty-six in

number, thirty in "The Scourge," six in "Fashion," nine in "The

Satirist," and eight in the "Loyalists' Magazine," we get seventy-nine

more, making a sum total of over two hundred in all. How many more have

escaped notice--how many have disappeared for ever from public notice

without a chance of recovery or revival--it would be, perhaps,

impossible to say; for even George himself was sometimes at fault, when

the long-forgotten work of his early years was presented to him for

recognition or acknowledgment.

FOOTNOTES:

[66] Alluding to the "Life in London."

[67] This certainly was not true; both Gillray and Rowlandson were

draughtsmen and artists of exceptionable ability.

[68] The article from which this is quoted is variously assigned to

Professor Wilson and Lockhart; it matters little which. Meanwhile, we

must have a name, let it be Lockhart's.

[69] The editor of "The Scourge" was one Jack Mitford. He received a

classical education, was originally in the navy, and fought under

Hood and Nelson. Besides "The Scourge," he edited "The Bon Ton"

magazine, and "Quizzical Gazette," and was author of a sea song once

popular, "The King is a true British Sailor." He was an irreclaimable

drunkard, thought only of the necessities of the hour, and slept in

the fields when his finances would not admit of payment of a twopenny

lodging in St. Giles's. His largest work was "Johnny Newcome in the

Navy," for which the publisher gave him the generous remuneration of

a shilling a day till he finished it. He died in St. Giles's

workhouse in 1831.

[70] The reader may remember that Napoleon once contracted a skin

disease from taking up a weapon which had been wielded by a dead

artilleryman, which gave him trouble at various periods of his life.

It may be that this suggested the subject.

[71] See the "Declaration of the Powers," from which we have already

quoted.

[72] "Narrative of Captain Maitland," p. 109.

[73] The Regent's selfish nature and expensive habits may be judged

by the following extract from the Greville Memoirs. Under date of

1830, Mr. Greville writes: "Sefton gave me an account of the dinner

in St. George's Hall on the King's [William IV.] birthday, which was

magnificent, excellent, and well served. Bridge came down with the

plate, and was hid during the dinner behind the great wine-cooler,

which weighs 7,000 ounces, and he told Sefton afterwards that the

plate in the room was worth L200,000. There is another service of

plate which was not used at all. The king has made it all over to the

crown. _All this plate was ordered by the late king, and never used;

his delight was ordering what the public had to pay for._"--_Greville

Memoirs_, vol. ii. p. 42.

[74] See Report of the Select Committee of the House of Commons on

the Earl of Elgin's Collection ... of Marbles ("Annual Reg.," 1816,

p. 447).

[75] See Chapter III. (1817).

[76] The idea of the letterpress description (a very long one), from

which the above is an extract, is borrowed of course from Dr.

Arbuthnot.

[77] See Chapter III. (1817).

[78] See Chapter III. (1817).

[79] She was fond of adopting children, and it was proved that she

had adopted a daughter of the man Bergami.

[80] Byron's "Age of Bronze."

[81] Lockhart's "Life of Scott," vol. v. p. 203.

[82] "E. O." was another name for roulette, and forms the subject of

one of Rowlandson's early and best caricatures.

[83] The following are the words of the original inscription: "To

Arthur, Duke of Wellington, and his brave companions in arms, this

statue of Achilles, cast from cannon taken in the battles of

Salamanca, Vitoria, Toulouse, and Waterloo, is inscribed by their

countrywomen."

[84] See Chapter IV.