ELECTIONEERING CARTOONS AND SQUIBS, 1807-20.
It was the “royal” Duke of Norfolk, who, on the appeal to the country
which followed the downfall of Lord Granville’s Ministry of “all the
Talents,” declared in the true spirit of the old political grandees,
“After all, what greater enjoyment can there be in life than to stand a
contested election for Yorkshire, and to win it by one?” The harder and
more costly the fight, the better the fun, and the more relishable the
victory which stirred the blood of the Howards.
It is curious to view the precise Wilberforce, as pictured by himself,
entertaining at midnight suppers his constituents, the Hull freemen
located in London, to the number of three hundred, at waterside
public-houses round Wapping, and by his addresses to them “gaining
confidence in public speaking.” As a young man, only just of age,
Wilberforce successfully contested a seat for Hull. His entry to the
senate cost him between £8000 and £9000, on his own showing.
“By long-established custom the single vote of a resident
elector was rewarded with a donation of two guineas; four were
paid for a plumper, and the expenses of a freeman’s journey
from London averaged £10 apiece. The letter of the law was not
broken, because the money was not paid until the last day on
which election petitions could be presented.”
This early success of Wilberforce was won in opposition to the
paramount influence of Lord Rockingham, and that of the Government,
“always strong at a seaport;” but this contest sinks into
insignificance beside Wilberforce’s later experiences. It was after
the philanthropist had already represented the county of Yorkshire for
twenty-three years that, on the unexpected dissolution in 1807, he
found himself plunged in the most expensive contest on record, one in
which it was alleged half a million of money was squandered, and which
has been aptly designated the “Austerlitz of Electioneering.”
Wilberforce’s opponents were Lord Milton, backed by the powerful
influence of his father, Earl Fitzwilliam, and with the active
co-operation of the Duke of Norfolk; and the Hon. H. Lascelles, in
promoting whose return his father, Lord Harewood, was “ready to spend
his whole Barbados property.” When the great abolitionist arrived
in York, he found his rivals had already marshalled their forces,
retained all the law-agents, and engaged canvassers, houses of
entertainment, and every species of conveyance in any considerable
town. As Wilberforce assured his friends on the nomination day, when
nearly every hand was uplifted in his favour, “he would never expose
himself to the imputation of endeavouring to make a seat in the House
of Commons subservient to the repair of a dilapidated fortune,” a
vast subscription was set on foot to defray the expenses he incurred
in standing, and, within a week, this fund reached £64,455. At the
hustings, the high sheriff declared the majority in favour of Lord
Milton and the Hon. H. Lascelles, whereupon a poll was demanded by
Mr. Wilberforce, which commenced at once, and continued for fifteen
days. The high sheriff presided in court, and the poll was taken at
thirteen booths in York Castle yard. For the first few days Wilberforce
stood so low that his professional adviser stated that “the sooner he
resigned the better.” While the heavy purses had secured every mode of
conveyance, even to “mourning coaches,” Wilberforce’s adherents were,
at their own charges, slowly making their way to the poll.
“No carriages are to be procured,” says a letter from Hull,
“but boats are proceeding up the river heavily laden with
voters; farmers lend their waggons; even donkeys have the
honour of carrying voters for Wilberforce, and hundreds are
proceeding on foot. This is just as it should be. No money can
convey all the voters, but if their feelings are roused his
election is secure.”
“How did you come up?” they asked a countryman who had “plumped” for
Wilberforce, and who denied having spent anything on his journey.
“Sure enow I cam all’d way ahint Lord Milton’s carriage.” Vast hosts
of mounted freeholders rode in bodies to York, and, when interrogated,
“For what parties do you come?” the response was, “Wilberforce” to a
man, and these continued to arrive both by day and night. The _York
Herald_ summarizes the excitement of the election:--
“Nothing since the days of the revolution has ever presented to
the world such a scene as this great county for fifteen days
and nights. Repose or rest have been unknown in it, except it
was seen in a messenger asleep upon his post-horse, or in his
carriage. Every day the roads in every direction to and from
every remote part of the county have been covered with vehicles
loaded with voters; and barouches, curricles, gigs, flying
waggons, and military cars with eight horses, crowded sometimes
with forty voters, have been scouring the country, leaving not
the slightest chance for the quiet traveller to urge his humble
journey, or find a chair at an inn to sit down upon.”
As Wilberforce’s majority increased, the “Miltonians” and “Lascellites”
freely resorted to tricky manœuvres included among “election tactics.”
Falsehoods about “coalitions” were circulated; it was asserted there
was “an unholy alliance” between “Saint and Sinner”--Wilberforce
and Harewood House; that the great slave abolitionist was in league
with the “Nigger Driver,” otherwise Lord Harewood, the holder of the
Barbados slave property. “Then,” says Wilberforce, “the mob-directing
system--twenty bruisers sent for, Firby, Gully, and others.” It was
the object of Milton’s “bravos” to drown Wilberforce’s refutations
of the “Coalition” charge, and when he addressed the people, the mob
interrupted his explanation. “Print what you have to say in a handbill,
and let them read it, since they will not hear you,” cried a friend.
“They read indeed!” said Wilberforce. “What, do you suppose that men
who make such a noise as these fellows can read?” This sally won the
heart of the crowd. To the other false rumours against him was added
that of his own death; four days before the election closed he was
attacked by an epidemic which disabled him from taking a further
personal share in the struggle. Wilberforce stood at the head of the
poll with 11,806 votes, Lord Milton was returned with 11,177, and
Lascelles was defeated, with 10,989.
“Had I not been defrauded of promised votes, I should have had
20,000,” Wilberforce wrote to Hannah Moore. “However, it is
unspeakable cause for thankfulness to come out of the battle
ruined neither in health, character, or fortune.”
A large proportion of the subscriptions was returned. The motives which
influenced Wilberforce to this arduous adventure are such as command
the sympathies of those who prize constitutional freedom.
“It is but too manifest,” he wrote, “that expensive contests
have a natural tendency to throw great counties and populous
places into the hands of men of immense wealth; just as it has
been sometimes found that mankind have sought a refuge from the
evils of anarchy, by running into the opposite extreme, and
surrendering their liberties.”
In a footnote to a series of satirical epistles, published in 1807, as
“The Groans of the Talents,” in six epistles, purporting to be written
by ex-ministers to their colleagues, we get a curious, if apocryphal,
electioneering anecdote. The putative author of the epistle in
question, the Right Hon. W. Windham, and his correspondent, T. W. Coke,
were both sufferers from the damaging indiscretion recorded. It is
explained how these candidates were supposed (incorrectly according to
facts) to have lost their seats for Norfolk. In the general election,
1806, two ladies of the first respectability drove about the county
to canvass for Col. Hon. J. Wodehouse (Conservative), and as they
were universally respected, their success was proportionably great.
Messrs. Coke and Windham were much chagrined at this circumstance; at
length, however, the latter gentleman’s inventive genius devised a plan
by which he hoped to turn it to their own advantage. Having procured
two comely nymphs of light reputation, somewhat resembling in age and
appearance the “fair petitioners” they were destined to personate,
he arrayed them in similar apparel, and, having procured a carriage
which formerly belonged to one of these ladies, they canvassed another
part of the county in favour of Messrs. Coke and Windham; the trick,
however, was discovered, and so indignant were Col. Wodehouse’s fair
friends, that they instigated their husbands and friends to petition
parliament against the sheriff’s return. Thus did the means by which
Mr. Windham hoped to defeat the Hon. John Wodehouse contribute to
the discredit of himself and friend. It must be added, it is hardly
credible the Right Hon. W. Windham would be likely to resort to so
disreputable an electioneering ruse.
In the days when candidates paid their electors’ travelling expenses
(and these ranged high, averaging, for example, from London to Hull,
ten pounds apiece for freemen, the recognized tariff), curious
manœuvres were resorted to by the “other side;” one of these was to
buy off the persons who had the responsibility of delivering these
expensive cargoes safe and in good voting order at the end of their
expedition. Among these anecdotes, it is related that, when those
Berwick freemen who happened to reside in the metropolis--
“were going down by sea, the skippers, to whose tender mercy
they were committed, used to be bribed, and have been known in
consequence to carry them over to Norway!”
This is the forerunner of the Ipswich story, that the Ipswich freemen,
under precisely similar conditions, have occasionally found themselves
in Holland; while, on the authority of R. Southey, it had also occurred
to electors to find themselves delivered at a port in the Netherlands.
The notorious Andrew Robinson Bowes, who was famous for being
undeterred by scruples, once stood for Newcastle. A cargo of Newcastle
freemen were shipped from London for his opponent, and the master was
bribed by Bowes to carry them to Ostend, where they remained till the
election was over.
The majesty of the people is adequately represented from a humoristic
standpoint by Pugin and Rowlandson, as it might have appeared on its
septennial returns in the boisterous eighteenth century. In the view of
the most celebrated polling-place of the kingdom, one of the candidates
has secured the ears of the adjacent crowd:--
“A man, when once he’s safely chose,
May laugh at all his furious foes,
Nor think of former evil:
Yet good has its attendant ill;
A _seat_ is no bad thing--but still
A _contest_ is the devil.”
Possibly the voices will follow; a show of hands is offered with
hearty goodwill; but, put to the test of the poll-book, it would
seem that, for the most part, the audience is voteless. However, the
polling-places may be recognized, like cattle pens, in front of the
hustings, with the attendant officials under the supervision of the
high bailiff of Westminster as returning officer. The flags indicate
the respective parishes of the district, such as St. Margaret’s, St.
James’s, St. Martin in the Fields, etc. Pugin is responsible for the
literal exactitude with which the locality is represented; his drawing
may be accepted as a faithful view of the customary arrangement of
the Covent Garden hustings at the time of the Westminster elections:
while Rowlandson has added the life and zest of the subject from actual
observation. With the history of the famous contests held on this spot
before us, it is noteworthy that the artist has given prominence to
one well-known feature, characteristic of Westminster elections for
nearly a century, the nomination of an influential naval officer in
the Court interest, whose supporters, backed up by a contingent of
loyal jack-tars, produced a due effect on the opposition. Rowlandson
was quite at home in the scene: he has reproduced the bludgeon-boys,
ballad-singers, professional pugilists, marrow-bone-and-cleaver “rough
music,” and those vendors of cakes, nuts, fruit, and such small wares
as were in request at such times; these itinerant traders found at
elections a large mart for their commodities, but the business was at
such times conducted at some personal risk, the baskets being overset,
the contents scattered, and the owners roughly handled in the course
of the attacks, counter-charges, and other party-manœuvres which
diversified the proceedings in the vicinity of the hustings.
G. Cruikshank supplied a frontispiece to Fairburn’s “Electors of
Westminster,” 1810--a copy of the “Speaker’s Warrant for the Commitment
of Sir Francis Burdett to the Tower,” with a burlesque portrait of that
privileged functionary, the Speaker, in an enormous wig, surmounted by
a miniature hat; the Right Hon. Charles Abbott was further caricatured
by the artist as “The Little Man in the Big Wig”--_vide_ “Fuller’s
Earth reanimated.”
A burlesque, by George Cruikshank, upon one of the candidates for the
City appeared in 1812, under the title of “The Election Hunter;” it
consists of a broadside, commencing:--
“I’ve just learned, by the porter who stands at my door,
That your old friend, Sir Charles, means to offer no more.”
G. Cruikshank has supplied the pictorial embellishments. Sir Claudius
Hunter, the canvassing candidate, is standing in the stirrups of his
famous charger, “White Surrey,” mounted on the platform, attended by
masked horsemen, and squired by a dilapidated knight in armour, who
has evidently seen overmuch service. The candidate is thus addressing
the civic constituency: “Gentleman, I earnestly solicit your vote and
interest for me and my horse.” This appeal the electors receive with
derision, “No, no; you may saddle White Surrey for Cheapside if you
like, but not for the House,” “Off, off,” etc.
This electioneering squib was probably preceded by another, also
designed by G. Cruikshank (published April 10, 1812). In this version,
entitled, “Saddle White Surrey for Cheapside to-morrow--W. Lon. Mil.
Regt. [West London Militia Regiment], General Orders,” Sir Claudius,
mounted on his steed, is making, like a true knight-errant, a quixotic
charge upon his constituents, preceded by the woeful man-in-armour,
like Sancho Panza, on an ass; he is charging the throng with his lance.
A groom behind Sir Claudius is exclaiming, “This is our High-bred
Hunter!”
In 1812, G. Cruikshank found fresh exercise for his etching-needle on
another electioneering cartoon--“The Borough Candidates,” published
October 1812. Suggestions of Gillray will be identified in this plate,
for the artist is dealing with Charles Calvert, the brewer, who was
elected for Southwark with H. Thornton, in opposition to W. J. Burdett;
the new member is seated astride a barrel of his own brewing, the
“stingo” is pouring forth from spigot and vent-peg. The discomfited
candidates are figured on either side; while the heads of the brewer’s
constituents appear in front.
Elections happily brought both food and occupation to the caricaturists
and satirists, as it has been shown. Incidents connected with this
subject evidently caught the popular taste, for we find Cruikshank
making the most of the mere title, in association with the etching of a
somewhat commonplace presentment of a country assembly-room, conveying
no flattering impression of the provincial grace and deportment of the
period; this was published in 1813--as “An Election Ball:” the floor is
occupied by knock-kneed dancers doddering through figures, while the
master of the ceremonies is shouting his instructions to the leader of
the band, elevated in an orchestra overhead.
The artist evidently found this topic remunerative, for in 1819
he produced a smaller version of “An Election Ball”--a similar
subject, with the arrangement of the room reversed; a country
dance is proceeding with “hands across;” the clumsy master of the
ceremonies, who is pigeon-toed, stands viewing the scene with evident
gratification. This plate reappeared, with a new publisher’s name, in
1835 (republished by Thomas McLean, Haymarket).
[Illustration: Hunt.
Burdett.
Cartwright.
Sir S. Romilly.
Sir M. Maxwell.
THE FREEDOM OF ELECTION; OR, HUNT-ING FOR POPULARITY, AND PLUMPERS FOR
MAXWELL. 1818. BY G. AND R. CRUIKSHANK.]
Both Robert and George Cruikshank were working away on the popular
side of the Westminster election contest, June 18, 1818. “The Freedom
of Election; or, HUNTING for Popularity, and Plumpers for
MAXWELL,” published June 22, 1818, owes its origin to this
combination of talent. In the caricature, the candidates and their
most prominent supporters are mounted on the Covent Garden hustings,
of which a front view is given. Hunt stands hat in hand (he and Sir
Francis Burdett sport “favours”); the Radical reformer is backed by
his colours, his flag proclaims “Universal Suffrage and Liberty;”
the standard is surmounted by a cap of liberty. Hunt is making a
characteristically downright appeal to his audience:--
“I am a plain Englishman. I approve of the conduct of Sir
Murray Maxwell in coming forward as he has done. Why should
you send Sir Samuel Romilly to Parliament? He can find his way
into the Den of Corruption. You know the hero of the Tower,
as well as I do--who ran out at the back door when his friends
were waiting for him at the front. _I_ have hoisted the Cap of
Liberty!”
The followers of the speaker are shouting, “Hunt for ever! no
Sovereigns, no Regents, no Churches, no Lawyers! Universal Plunder
for ever! No Sham Patriots. Hunt and Liberty. Hunt and Revolution.”
Sir Francis Burdett comes next, beside the Hon. Douglas Kinnaird and
Major Cartwright; these candidates are variously received. “Burdett
for ever!--No Weathercocks. No Coalition. The Spenceans for ever!
Napoleon for ever! Burdett for ever! No Spafields Rioters.” “Kinnaird
for ever!” “Cartwright for ever! No old woman in Parliament.” Sir
Samuel Romilly is standing beside the poll on which the results of the
first day’s votings are recorded. The cries for “Romilly and Justice,”
“Romilly and Reform,” indicate a popular candidate. Sir Murray Maxwell
is a prominent figure, and is represented in the full swing of his
eloquence; like Hunt, he is disposed to be a courteous opponent:--
“Gentlemen,--Mr. Hunt is anxious you should hear me now. I am
certain you will hear him presently with pleasure. I am certain
my cause is as popular as his; for I see many pretty girls
pressing forward to hear me. Of all the days in the year, none
appear more favourable for a British officer to receive your
support than the anniversary of Waterloo.”
“Maxwell and the British Navy! Let every man do his duty!” is
shouted; while hostile voices cry, “No Maxwell--no Captain Flog-’em.”
A notice-board, capped by the crown, sets forth the merits of this
candidate:--
“Who is Sir M. Maxwell? He is a brave, learned, loyal, and
Constitutional man. He hoists only the colours of his King and
country--not the red flag. He has engaged to pay his share of
the Hustings to prevent new levies on the people.”
Sir S. Romilly (W) headed the poll with 5339 votes; Sir Francis Burdett
was a good second with 5238; Sir Murray Maxwell, the unsuccessful
candidate, polled 4808: the others were “nowhere”--Hunt, 84; Kinnaird,
65; Cartwright, 23.
[Illustration: HUNT, A RADICAL REFORMER.]
In the same spirit the satirists regarded as fair game for their shafts
of ridicule the new political section which had seceded from the
Whig party as being behind the age; these were the “root-and-branch
reformers,” who, from their electing to call themselves Radical
reformers, obtained the party designation of “Radicals.” The orator
Hunt is travestied in this guise.
The general turbulence of the times at this precise period is
graphically pictured in “The Law’s Delay.”
“Now greeting, hooting, and abuse,
To each man’s party prove of use,
And mud, and stones, and waving hats,
And broken heads, and putrid cats
Are offerings made to aid the cause
Of order, government, and laws.”
(_The Election Day._)
There appeared in 1819 “A Political Squib on the Westminster Election,
Covent Garden” (March 3), by G. Cruikshank. This etching forms
the frontispiece to a tract published April 20, 1819, for Bengo,
print-dealer, Maiden Lane, Covent Garden. The somewhat mystifying
title of the election squib is “Patriot Allegory, Anarchical Fable,
and Licentious Parody,” and it purports to be written by Peregrine
Castigator. G. Cruikshank has availed himself of that long-suffering
animal, the British Lion; in this instance the monarch of the beasts
personates the successful candidate, the Hon. George Lamb being figured
as the lion. He is exhibited standing under the city gate, beneath a
portcullis, wreathed with laurels; his tail is lashed in anger, while
the unsuccessful candidates, as an additional ignominy to their defeat,
are travestied as the heads of a hydra trampled beneath their political
victor. John Cam Hobhouse (W) polled 3,861, and was beaten by G. Lamb
(C) with 4,465 votes. T. T. Wooler, the revolutionary publisher, for
whom Cruikshank was working in 1815, is personified as the “Black
Dwarf,” as his whilom ally ever after represented him; his duck’s-head
cap is made to exclaim, “Cartwright and ’38!!!” the next individual
says, “Quack! quack! quack!”--an allusion to the small minority of
votes polled by the Radical candidate at the Westminster election for
1819, vice Romilly deceased, when 8,364 votes were registered, and only
38 of these for Cartwright.
[Illustration: THE LAW’S DELAY. READING THE RIOT ACT. 1820. BY G.
CRUIKSHANK.
Showing the advantage and comfort of waiting the specified time after
reading the Riot Act to a Radical mob; or a British magistrate in the
discharge of his duty, and the people of England in the discharge of
theirs! See speeches of the Opposition--_Passim_.
[_Page 334._]
Major Cartwright, the “Drum-major of Sedition” of the ministerial
satirists, was one of the Radical reformers who laboured actively for
the reform of parliamentary abuses. He put up for Westminster in the
Radical interest in 1818 and 1819, but seems to have had no support. In
1820, Major Cartwright addressed a petition to the House of Commons for
the purpose of disclosing “that ninety-seven Lords usurped two hundred
seats in the Commons-House in violation of our Laws and Liberties.”
“_Resolved._ That it is a high infringement upon our Liberties
and Privileges for Lords of Parliament to concern themselves in
the Elections of members to serve for the Commons.” (_Journals
at the commencement of every Session._)
How far the measure of reform was needed in the corrupt system of
boroughmongering is clearly demonstrated by Major Cartwright’s--
“Lists and Tables of Peers of the Realm who have unlawfully
concerned themselves in the Election of members to serve for
the Commons in the Parliament which was then sitting (1820),
with the Counties and Towns where the unlawful interference of
Peers has operated, either by nomination or influence, with the
number of members unlawfully returned.”
For instance, the Dukes of Bedford and Rutland respectively returned
four representatives; the same number was in the nomination of the
Earls of Ailesbury, St. Germans, Mount Edgecumbe, etc., while such
powerful autocrats as the Earl of Lonsdale contrived to return eight
nominees, as did the Earl of Darlington; six members were returned
by the Duke of Norfolk and Earl Fitzwilliam respectively; while the
Dukes of Devonshire, Newcastle, and Northumberland, the Marquises
of Buckingham and Hertford, the Earl of Powis, and Baron Carrington
each managed to return five seats. To the calculations given in his
table, the petitioner added the Treasury patronage, then in the Earl
of Liverpool’s control, giving eleven members; the Admiralty, under
Viscount Melville’s patronage, imposing three members, the Ordnance
(Duke of Wellington) one--adding again, according to the calculations
given in Oldfield’s “Representative History” (vi. 289),--
“There are ninety wealthy Commoners who, for 102 vile sinks of
corruption over which they tyrannize, further dishonour the
House by forcing on it 137 members,” thus giving a total of no
less than 353 members, who, as Cartwright represented to the
House of Commons in his very remarkable Petition, [the Major
writes] “to use the words of the royal proclamation of the
30th July, 1819,” were created such “in gross violation of the
law, and to the palpable subversion of the constitution, being
corruptly or tyrannically imposed on the Commons.”
“The pure and undefiled principles of the Constitution” were inculcated
by Major Cartwright in his “Lectures on the British Constitution,”
“Letters to Lord Mayor Wood,” “Letters to Clarkson on African and
English Freedom,” “Resolutions and Proceedings of the Hampden Club,” “A
Bill of Rights and Liberties; or, an Act for restoring the Civil Branch
of the Constitution,” and the companion work, “A Bill of Free and Sure
Defence, for restoring the Military Branch.” The major was brimming
over with zeal, and had almost too good a case; unfortunately for the
enforcement of his reforms, he was too early in the field.
The coming elections of 1820 were preceded by several caricatures.
Those by George Cruikshank are the most meritorious, the artist’s
work for this date being at its best. He was at that time employed by
Humphrey, the print-publisher, of St. James’s Street, as a successor
to James Gillray, an honour the artist regarded with pride to the
close of his long career. On the 1st of January, John Cam Hobhouse,
who was then canvassing Westminster, and was this year to be sent to
parliament as the colleague of his friend, Sir Francis Burdett, was
exhibited as “Little Hob in the Well,” under the title of “A Trifling
Mistake--Corrected.” The diminutive statesman is exhibited in the
place of his confinement, a prison-cell; he is gloomily contemplating
two pictures on the wall, “St. Stephen’s Chapel _versus_ Newgate.” A
pile of manuscripts, blackened by the upsetting of an inkstand, and a
mouse-trap assist the allusions. “The Trifling Mistake” is placarded
on the wall in the indiscreet but pertinent utterances of the captive,
which, if truly set forth, may account for his incarceration.
“What prevents the people from walking down to the House and
pulling out the members by the ears, locking up their doors,
and flinging the key into the Thames? Is it any majesty which
lodges in the members of that assembly? Do we love them? Not
at all; we have an instinctive horror and disgust at the
abstract idea of a boroughmonger. Do we respect them? Not in
the least. Do we regard them as endowed with any superior
qualities? On the contrary, individually, there is scarcely a
poorer creature than your mere member of Parliament, though
in his corporate capacity the earth furnishes not so absolute
a bully. Their true practical protectors, then--the real
efficient anti-Reformers--are to be found at the Horse Guards
and the Knightsbridge Barracks. As long as the House of Commons
majorities are backed by the regimental muster-roll, so long
may those who have got the tax-power keep it,--and hang those
who resist.”
In the same month appeared another strong “anti-reform” caricature
from the same source--though, as we see by a later work, the artist’s
sympathies were at this time on the side of the reformers, while
Radical publishers of an advanced type were his chief employers,--“The
Root of King’s Evil--Lay the Axe to it,” January 14, 1820. A learned
prelate, seated in his library, is considerably scared by the
apparition of the red spectre, literally a root--possibly implying
the tree of liberty--planted in “le bonnet rouge,” and wearing the
cap of liberty. On a pike in one hand is the mitred head of a
bishop, in the other is another pike surmounted by a battered crown,
with the tricolour flag edged with crape, and inscribed “Blood,
Reform, and Plunder,” with a list of the “reds” and reformers in
juxtaposition--Watson, Thistlewood, Preston, Hooper, Waddington,
Harrison, Hunt, Pearson, Wood, Waithman, Parkins, etc. In the second
category are Cobbett, Carlile, Tom Paine, Burdett, Little Hob, Death,
and the Devil,--no King, etc. The prelate is interrogating the spectral
visitor: “In the name of Satan, what the Devil are you, and where were
you hatched?” “In Hell, your worship. I’m a Radical. Give me leave to
present you a list of my best friends.” “Burn’s Justice” stands open
at “Treason,” and a huge volume of “Etymology” stands exposed at the
definition of “Radical”--“_Ex Radix_ is a root, and _Calor_ is heat,
anger, strife; _q.d._--The root of all strife.”
A comprehensive view of the respective sections of Radicals and
Reformers on the dissolution of Parliament, February 29, 1820, is
afforded by one of G. Cruikshank’s most successful caricatures, which
may be considered, in point of execution, as among the works most
worthy of his reputation; it is entitled, “Coriolanus Addressing
the Plebs,” February 29, 1820. The scene is the screen in front of
Carlton House Palace, and His Majesty, the magnifico George IV., is
flatteringly travestied as Coriolanus. The “cauliflower” wig and false
whiskers affected by “the finest gentleman in Europe” detract from
the consistency of the figure, otherwise attired in classic guise,
and presenting a dignified appearance; for, wonderful to relate,
Cruikshank has gone out of his way to compliment the king in more than
one respect. The address, a felicitous quotation from Shakespeare, is
antagonistic to the actual sentiments held by the artist at this stage
of his career:--
“What would ye have, ye curs, that like not peace nor war?
The one affrights you, the other makes you proud. He that
trusts to you, where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
where foxes, geese. Hang ye! trust ye!! With every minute you
change a mind, and call him noble that was now your hate; him
vile, that was your garland. What’s the matter, that in the
several places of the city, you cry against the noble Senate,
who (under the gods) keep you in awe, which else would feed
upon one another?”
[Illustration: Hon. Douglas Kinnaird.
Coriolanus (George IV.).
Plebs: Dr. Watson.
Preston.
Carlile.
W. Cobbett.
Orator Hunt.
Thelwall.
Sir F. Burdett.
W. Hone.
Wooler, the Black Dwarf.
Cartwright.
Hobhouse.
Alderman Waithman.
Cruikshank.
CORIOLANUS ADDRESSING THE PLEBS. 1820. BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
[_Page 338._]
Beneath the quotation is a passage from Buffon, eulogizing the
nobility of the figure above, “L’image de l’âme est peinte par la
physionomie”--“animé d’un feu divin,” and other extravagances, such as
“his majestic presence, and the firm and bold deportment which marks
his nobility and rank.” In the other “Great George’s” parody, the
various sections, from Reformers to Revolutionists and Socialists, are
carefully kept apart, although the plebeians at the first glance appear
but a miscellaneous mob.
First comes “Liberty of the Press,” a tricolour standard, topped by
the “cap of liberty.” At the front stands William Hone, a stalwart
champion, armed with two formidable clubs, one is styled “Parody,” and
the other inscribed with the names of the famous satirical tracts, “The
Man in the Moon,” and “The House that Jack Built,” both objectionable
weapons in the eyes of the “Coriolanus” of the picture. Behind his
ally and publisher, Hone, is the portrait of the artist himself,
with a tricoloured portfolio marked “Caricature.” George Cruikshank,
in his later days, when turned to Tory proclivities like one or two
other notabilities in the group, endeavoured to soften the impression
conveyed by this print, and described “your humble servant” as “one
of the moderate reformers,” evidently not relishing the company of
those among whom, in his early truculent days, he had voluntarily
enrolled himself. Next comes the figure of the champion of the Princess
of Wales, “Sheriff Double Hue,” otherwise Waithman, who is hugging
a project for “Hell-wide Measures;” beneath the standard of the
“Examiners” and “Chronicles” stands a figure clad in complete Highland
garb; this is Douglas Kinnaird, on the alert, and armed with his trusty
claymore. Sir Francis Burdett and John Cam Hobhouse, jointly grasping a
formidable weapon, are enlisted under the standard of “Parliamentary
Reform.” Hobhouse is trampling on the “Trifling Mistake,” a parodied
version of the speech which procured him more notoriety than was
desirable: over his head is seen Thelwall as a champion lecturer;
Major Cartwright, the so-called “Drum-Major of Sedition,” after all
his struggles in the cause, is but a broken-down leader, supported on
a crutch stick with one hand, while raising the redoubtable sword of
“Universal Suffrage” in the other. Prominent in front of the group
enlisted under the ensign of “Revolution and Plunder,” capped with the
Death’s head, stands Wooler, travestied as the “Black Dwarf,” after the
paper he had then made notorious. Orator Hunt, with pike reversed, is
resting one hand on Cobbett’s shoulder; the latter, a brawny figure,
flourishing two gigantic bones (of contention?); another communist
is skulking away, having let fall Tom Paine’s “Age of Reason.” The
publisher of the “new lights,” Carlile, is resting on a staff capped
with a thistle; Preston, the bootmaker, a violent Democrat, together
with Thistlewood and others holding extreme views, are enrolled under
a bond of “Blood and Plunder.” The figure to the extreme left, next to
the screen of Carlton House, is described by Cruikshank as intended for
Dr. Watson. Truly the “Plebs” form a muster-roll of all the prominent
Radicals and Revolutionists of a period when secret societies of those
whose designs were inimical to constitutional order were presumed to
flourish.
The evils which disfigured constituencies in the boroughmongering
days are pictorially set forth by George Cruikshank, under date April
23, 1820, in a caricature entitled “Freedom and Purity of Election!!!
Showing the Necessity of Reform in the Close Boroughs.” The scene
refers to the elections in Cornwall; the locality being indicated by
a signpost as Tregony and St. Austel. The unhappy villagers, by the
independent exercise of their suffrages, have displeased their feudal
proprietor, and are being summarily evicted from their houses, with
their household belongings, by a truculent steward, with a list of
the “proscribed” held in his hand. Old and young, women and children,
are alike doomed, because they or their protectors have dared to act
with independence, and have not voted according to the fiat of the lord
of the manor. Daniel O’Connell appears as the unsuccessful candidate;
he is viewing this mischief with compassion, and is encouraging those
evicted “not to be cast down, as there are other houses besides his
lordship’s,” and that he--the Liberator--“will not desert them,
although they have lost the election.”
Parliament reassembled at the end of April, 1820, and in May, George
Cruikshank again favoured the public with another anti-reform cartoon,
“Radical Quacks giving a New Constitution to John Bull!” In this
version the persons most prominent among the “Plebeians” are alluded
to incidentally. John Bull, the national prototype, is reduced, under
the new “regimen,” out of all recognition; in fact, he is but the
mangled remnant of his former portly self, for the new charlatans are
having “their own sweet will.” John Bull is placed between Burdett
and Hobhouse; many desperate operations have already taken place.
He wears the bonnet-rouge of “Liberty” as a night-cap. His left arm
is in a tricoloured sling, while his right arm is being bled. His
two sufficient supports of Church and State have been amputated, and
in their places are strapped two wooden-legs--“Universal Suffrage,”
propped on the “Rights of Man,” and “Religious Freedom,” which is
raised on the “Age of Reason;” the legs of his invalid-chair are
equally unreliable--“Mistaken Confidence,” and “Mistaken Security;”
the sufferer is resting on a pillow stuffed with “False Promises” and
“Reformers’ Opinions.” Sir Francis Burdett, as a professional adviser,
is holding the arm from which he is draining the patient’s blood:--
“Mr. Bull, you have lived too well, but when we have renovated
your constitution according to our plan, the reform will be
so complete--that you will never again be troubled with any
fulness whatsoever!”
John Cam Hobhouse is administering a tricoloured bolus of formidable
dimensions, to be followed by a corresponding draught:--
“Never mind, Mr. Bull; if we have thought it necessary to
take off both your legs, you will find the others very
good substitutes; this Revolutionary Bolus and decoction
of disloyalty are very harmless, but they will restore the
_general equality_ of the intestines and remove any obstruction
which may prevent us from effecting a Radical Reform in the
system.”
The victim of these experiments is by no means assured as to his
future--
“Maybe, gentlemen,” he replies to these plausible assurances;
“but you have taken all the honest good blood out of my veins;
deprived me of my real supporters, and stuck two bad props in
their place, and if you go on thus, I shall die before ever my
constitution can be improved.”
The real supporters, “Mr. Bull’s two legs--Church and State,” are
consigned to a coffin, “to be entombed in the vaults of St. Stephen’s
Chapel.” A formidable array of nostrums are displayed in the vicinity:
Burdett has soporifics and opiates handy--a huge bottle, labelled
“Burdett’s Mixture,” contains a red, white, and blue republican
decoction, “Hobhouse’s Newgate-proof Purity,” and “Whitbread’s Entire;”
a large packet of “Cartwright’s Universal Grease,” with a phial of
“Wooler’s Black-drops;” “Old Bailey Drops” (the bottle broken); ditto,
“Dr. Watson’s White + Comfort;” a packet of “Hunt’s Powder,” and a full
supply of “Cobbett’s Hellebore Ratsbane”--enough, in all conscience, to
kill or cure.