of wind and rain, and this immediately after leaving a merry fireside.
(1806.)
_More Miseries._--Being nervous and cross-examined by Mr. Garrow (in a
Law Court). (_April 1, 1807._)
_More Miseries._--Endeavouring to make violent love under the table and
pressing the wrong foot. (_April 1, 1807._)
_More Miseries._--Sitting on a chair which a servant has fractured and
put together the preceding morning, and upon attempting to lean back
falling to the ground before a large party; a country servant bursting
into a roar of laughter. (_April 1, 1807._)
_More Miseries._--Being obliged to kiss a remarkably plain woman at
forfeits, when you engaged in the pastime only with the hope of being
able to salute a lovely young lady, to whom you are particularly
attached. (_April 1, 1807._)
_Miseries of Travelling._--Starting for a long ride, on a dinner
engagement, without a great-coat, in a mist, a mizzle, a drizzle, a
rain, a torrent. On arriving at the house at last, completely drenched,
you have to beg the favour of making yourself look like a full or empty
sack, by wearing your host's clothes, he being either a dwarf or a
giant, and you the contrary. (_January 1, 1807._)
_Miseries of Games, Sports, &c._--In skating, slipping in such a manner
that your legs start off in this unaccommodating posture; from which,
however, you are soon relieved by tumbling forwards on your nose, or
backwards on your skull. Also learning to cut the outside edge on
skates that have no edge to cut with--ice very rugged. (_January 1,
1807._)
_More Miseries._--In the country, going to a party to dinner, getting
very tipsy, quitting the house in a dark night, and getting upon your
horse with your face towards the tail, and wondering during the few
minutes that you are able to keep your seat, amidst the jeers of your
companions, what freak can have entered the brain of the beast to go
backwards. (_April 1, 1807._)
_Miseries of the Table._--Inviting a friend, whom you know to be
particularly fond of the dish, to partake of a fine hare, haunch, &c.,
which you have endeavoured to keep exactly to the critical moment, but
which is no sooner brought in than the whole party, with one nose,
order it to be taken out. (1807.)
_More Miseries._--At an inn, going into a bed too short, with a wooden
leg, which you were too fatigued to unstrap, drawing up the living one,
going to sleep with the other sticking out at the bottom, which, when
the chambermaid comes in for the candle, she conceives to be the handle
of the warming-pan, which she has carelessly left in the bed. (_April
1, 1807._)
_More Miseries._--Sending a challenge, requesting a timid friend to
attend you to the field, who, you think, will not fail to acquaint the
magistrate of it; going with honour to the appointed spot, anxiously
looking back at every step to see if the Bow Street officers are
coming, without seeing a soul but your antagonist and the seconds.
(_April 1, 1807._)
_Miseries Domestic._--Squatting plump on an unsuspected cat in your
chair. (_January 1, 1807._)
_More Miseries._--Being persuaded to put your finger into the cage
of a parrot and to rub its poll, upon an assurance, from its doating
mistress, that it is the most gentle bird in the universe, suddenly
feeling the sanguinary effects of its beak. (_April 1, 1807._)
_More Miseries._--Having a newly-rolled gravel walk, finding some
friends whom you had asked to dine with you amusing themselves before
dinner by drawing each other in your child's chaise, which disastrously
stood at the bottom of the garden, within sight; seeing the narrow
wheels cut up the walk most unmercifully, and being deterred by a false
notion of politeness from giving them a hint to desist. (_April 1,
1807._)
_Cold Broth and Calamity._--A smaller edition of this subject, the
disasters of various parties on the ice, but treated with perfect
originality as regards the various incidents.
_Miseries Domestic._--Waking in the middle of the night in a state
of raging thirst, eagerly blundering to the washing-stand, and there
finding the broad-mouthed pitcher, which you lift to your lips, so
full that, besides amply satisfying your thirst, it keeps cooling your
heated body, and purifying your linen with the overplus. (_1806._)
_Miseries of the Country._ Published by T. Rowlandson,
Adelphi.--Passing the worst part of a rainy winter in a country so
inveterately miry as to imprison you within your own premises; so that
by way of exercise, and to keep yourself alive, you take to rolling
your gravel walks (though already quite smooth), cutting wood (though
you have more logs than enough), working the dumb-bells, or such other
irrational exercise. (_April 12, 1807._)
_Miseries of the Country._--While deeply, delightfully, and, as you
hope, safely engaged at home in the morning, after peremptory orders
of denial to all comers whomsoever, to be suddenly surprised, through
the treachery or folly of your servant, by an inroad from a party of
the starched, stupid, cold, idle natives of a country town, who lay a
formal siege (by sap) to your leisure. (_1807._)
_Miseries of London._--Being a compulsory spectator and auditor of a
brawling and scratching match between two drunken drabs, in consequence
of the sudden influx of company, by whom you are hemmed in a hundred
yards deep in every direction, leaving you no chance of escape till the
difference of sentiment between the ladies is adjusted. Where you stand
you are (that is, I was) closely bounded in front by a barrow of cat's
meat, the unutterable contents of which employ your eyes and nose,
while your ear is no less fully engaged by the Tartarean yell of its
driver. (_1807._)
_Miseries of Travelling._--On packing up your clothes for a journey,
because your servant is a fool, the burning fever into which you are
thrown when, after all your standing, stamping, kneeling, tugging, and
kicking, the lid of your trunk refuses to approach within a yard of the
lock. (_1807._)
_More Miseries._ Published by R. Ackermann.--Being pinned up to a door,
round the neck, by the horns of an enraged overdriven ox. (_April 1,
1807._)
_Miseries of the Country._--While on a visit in the Hundred of Essex
being under the necessity of getting dead-drunk every day to save your
life. (See 1807, p. 78.)
Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas....
_Miseries of Social Life._--Dining and passing the whole evening with
a party of fox-hunters, after they have had what they call 'glorious
sport;' and, while you execrate the very name of a hound, being gorged
with the _crambe recocta_ of one chase after another, till you wish the
country was underground. (_January 1, 1807._)
THE MICROCOSM OF LONDON,
OR
LONDON IN MINIATURE.
_With Illustrations by Pugin and Rowlandson._
PUBLISHED BY R. ACKERMANN, REPOSITORY OF ARTS, 101 STRAND.
With reference to the illustrations, which form the principal feature
of this work, we borrow a paragraph from the 'Introduction':--
'The great objection that men fond of the fine arts have hitherto made
to engravings on architectural subjects has been that the buildings and
figures have almost invariably been designed by the same artists. In
consequence of this the figures have been generally neglected, or are
of a very inferior cast, and totally unconnected with the other part
of the print; so that we may sometimes see men and women in English
dresses delineated in an English view of an Italian palace, and Spanish
grandees in long cloaks and ladies in veils seated in one of our own
cathedrals.
The dress, we know, is neither new nor rare;
But how the powers came it there?
'To remove these glaring incongruities from the publication, a strict
attention has been paid, not only to the country of the figures
introduced in the different buildings, but to the general air and
peculiar carriage, habits, &c., of such characters as are likely to
make up the majority in particular places.
'The architectural part of the subjects that are contained in this work
will be delineated, with the utmost precision and care, by Mr. Pugin,
whose uncommon accuracy and elegant taste have been displayed in former
productions. With respect to the figures, they are from the pencil of
Mr. Rowlandson, with whose professional talents the public are already
so well acquainted that it is not necessary to expatiate on them here.
As the following list comprises almost every variety of character that
is found in this great metropolis, there will be ample scope for the
exertion of his abilities; and it will be found that his powers are not
confined to the ludicrous, but that he can vary with his subject, and,
wherever it is necessary, descend
From grave to gay, from lively to severe.'
Rowlandson and Pugin del. et sc.
1. Drawing from Life at the Royal Academy, Somerset House.
2. Exhibition Room, Somerset House. Great Room at the Royal Academy,
at the time of the annual picture Exhibition.
3. Board Room of the Admiralty, Parliament Street.
4. A View of Astley's Amphitheatre, Westminster Bridge.
5. The Asylum, or House of Refuge for Friendless and Deserted Girls,
Lambeth.
6. Christie's Auction Room.
7. The Great Hall, Bank of England.
8. Bartholomew Fair, Smithfield.
9. Billingsgate Market.
10. The Hall, Blue Coat School, during the orations on the grand
anniversary, St. Matthew's Day, September 21.
11. Bow Street Office. An Examination before the Magistrates.
12. Pass Room, Bridewell.
13. British Institution, Pall Mall (late Alderman Boydell's
'Shakespeare Gallery').
14. The Hall and Staircase, British Museum, Montague House.
15. The Great Hall, Carlton House, Pall Mall.
16. The Roman Catholic Chapel, Lincoln's Inn Fields.
17. Coal Exchange.
18. The Royal Cockpit, Bird Cage Walk, St. James's Park.
19. Water Engine, Coldbath Fields Prison.
20. The College of Physicians, Warwick Lane.
21. House of Commons. (During a Debate.)
22. Court of Chancery, Lincoln's Inn Hall.
23. Court of Common Pleas, Westminster Hall.
24. Court of King's Bench, Westminster Hall.
25. Court of Exchequer, Westminster Hall.
26. Covent Garden Market. Westminster Election. Hustings in front of
St. Paul's Church.
27. Covent Garden Theatre. (During the performance of an Oratorio.)
28. The Custom House, from the Thames.
29. The Long Room, Custom House.
30. The Debating Society (the Athenian Lyceum), Piccadilly.
31. Doctors' Commons (Great Rider Street, St. Paul's.)
32. Drury Lane Theatre.
33. The Corn Exchange, Mark Lane.
34. Exhibition of the Society of Painters in Water Colours, Old Bond
Street.
35. Fire in London. (Albion Mills, Surrey side of Blackfriars Bridge;
burnt March 3, 1791.)
36. Fleet Prison (the Debtors' Prison, as rebuilt after the riots in
1780), Ludgate Hill.
37. Foundling Hospital. (The Chapel.)
38. Freemasons' Hall (Freemasons' Tavern), Great Queen Street.
39. Great Subscription Room at Brooks', St. James's Street.
40. Guildhall.
41. Guildhall, Court of King's Bench. Examination of a Bankrupt
before his Creditors.
42. Common Council Chamber, Guildhall.
43. The Hall, Heralds' Office, or the College of Arms, St. Benet's
Hill, Doctors' Commons.
44. Middlesex Hospital, Charles Street (Ward Room).
45. East India Company. The Sale Room.
46. King's Bench Prison (Debtors, &c.), St. George's Fields.
47. King's Mews, Charing Cross.
48. Lambeth Palace, 1809.
49. Lloyd's Subscription Room. (Underwriters' Room.)
50. Leadenhall Market.
51. Egyptian Hall, Mansion House.
52. House of Lords.
53. Lottery Drawing, Coopers' Hall.
54. Magdalen Chapel, Magdalen House.
55. The Mint. Stamping the Impression (Tower).
56. Mounting Guard at St. James's Park (Horse Guards).
57. Newgate Chapel. ('The Condemned Sermon.')
58. Old Bailey. (Examination of a Witness.)
59. Opera House, Haymarket. (A Ballet Scene.)
60. The Pantheon. (A Masquerade.)
61. The Philanthropic Society's Chapel (St. George's Fields).
62. The Pillory, Charing Cross.
63. The Post Office, Lombard Street. (Sorting Office.)
64. Quakers' Meeting (Bishopsgate Street).
65. The Queen's Palace, St. James's Park. (Buckingham House.)
66. The Royal Circus, St. George's Fields.
67. The Royal Exchange.
68. Library of the Royal Institution, Albemarle Street.
69. Sadler's Well Theatre. (An Aquatic Representation.)
70. Sessions' House, Clerkenwell.
71. Society for the Encouragement of the Arts, &c., Adelphi.
72. Society of Agriculture, Sackville Street, Piccadilly. (An
assembly of members in the Great Room.)
73. Somerset House, Strand.
74. Stamp Office, Somerset House.
75. Stock Exchange, Capel Court, Bartholomew Lane.
76. Drawing Room, St. James's Street.
77. St. Luke's Hospital, Old Street.
78. St. Margaret's Church, Westminster.
79. The Church of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields.
80. St. Paul's Cathedral.
81. Surrey Institution. Lecture Theatre.
82. Synagogue, Duke's Place, Houndsditch.
83. Tattersall's Horse Repository, Hyde Park Corner.
84. The Temple Church.
85. View of the Tower of London.
86. Horse Armoury, Tower.
87. The Board of Trade, Treasury, Whitehall.
88. Trinity House, Great Tower Hill.
89. Vauxhall Gardens. (The Orchestra.)
90. Church of St. Stephen, Walbrook.
91. The Watch House, St. Mary-le-Bone.
92. West India Docks.
93. Westminster Abbey.
94. Westminster Hall.
95. Chapel Royal, Whitehall.
96. The Workhouse, St. James's Parish.
97. Greenwich Hospital. The Painted Hall.
98. The Hall, Chelsea Hospital.
99. Military College, Chelsea.
100. Covent Garden Theatre.
101. South Sea House. Dividend Day.
102. Excise Office, Broad Street.
103. View of Westminster Hall and Bridge.
104. A View of London and the Thames. Taken opposite the Adelphi.
1808 and 1809. _An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting._
Illustrated with five prints. From designs by G. M. Woodward, Esq.
(author of 'Eccentric Excursions'). Rowlandson, sc. 12mo. London.
Printed for Thomas Tegg.
I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his
hen;
More clamorous than a parrot against rain;
More new-fangled than an ape;
And more giddy in my desires than a monkey.--SHAKESPEARE.
Folding frontispiece.--A Savoyard with a barrel-organ and a troupe
of dancing dogs; a Frenchman with a dancing bear; a showman dragging
about a dromedary, with a monkey perched on its hump, and pulling
the animal's ears. A bird made to fire off a gun, in the rear of a
half-starved individual who is lost in hungry longing outside the
window of an eating-house; while the proprietor is taunting the
famished gazer with a huge round of beef. A cat is torturing a mouse.
A woman is eavesdropping. Another cat is getting a bird out of a cage.
A woman is emptying a vessel over the heads of a crowd gathered round
a tussle. A cat is launched in the air on bladders. A pair of ruffians
are racing on donkeys, and flogging the beasts unmercifully. All these
episodes set forth various phases of the fine art of Tormenting.
1. A old vixen is tormenting a pretty maid, who is in tears: 'Don't
cry, child. You cannot help being handsome; but I assure you I have
often wept from my dreadful apprehensions for you, lest you should come
to walk London streets!'
2. A family scene.
Train up a child in the way it should go,
and when he is old he will not depart from it.
SOLOMON.
Two children have strung up a pair of kittens by their tails; the
tabbies are clawing one another in the air. Two boys have tied a
saucepan to the tail of a frightened dog, and a little girl is singeing
a cat's whiskers with a brand from the fire. The father is smoking his
pipe and declaring, 'Dear little innocents, how prettily they amuse
themselves!' while the mother is made to say, 'I love to see children
employed!'
3. A husband, with literary tastes, is vainly trying to interest his
lady in his reading: 'Now, my dear, now for the passage; I am sure
it will delight you. Shakespeare, "Tempest," act the fifth. "The
cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces----"' The wife is bouncing up
to the bell, although there is a blazing fire, interrupting the reading
with, 'I wonder the girl don't bring the coals, one might as well sit
in an ice house, but I was born to be tormented!'
4. An old curmudgeon is seated in his armchair, a decanter of wine
before him, with a chart of the gold mines of Peru and Mexico at his
back; a young gentleman, who has been unfortunate, is standing before
him in an attitude of despondency, little encouraged by the friendly
advice of the hunks whose assistance he has vainly implored: 'Ah,
my young friend, I told you what it would all come to, but you have
brought it all on yourself. I'll not ask you to sit down, because you
seem in a hurry; however, I'll give you my advice: as you say you are
not worth a guinea, I'd advise you to quit London, and purchase a small
estate in the country!'
FOOTNOTES:
[7] A learned dancing-master in the University of Oxford, who taught
politeness also, and published a book upon that subject, fixed the
same period for passing a stile in some cases that is here judiciously
recommended for the payment of an ostler. His precept was that a
well-bred man meeting another on the opposite side of a stile ought on
no account to be persuaded to go over first. The name of this ingenious
author was Towle. Had two zealous pupils of his school met each other
at a stile, it is supposed they must have concluded their lives on the
premises.
[8] James Ripley, many years ostler at the "Red Lion," who published a
volume of letters.
[9] George Stevens, the originator of the 'Lecture on Heads,' was a
very indifferent actor, but a man of humorous parts, and in himself
was considered, by his contemporaries, most entertaining company. The
idea of the lecture was given him by a country carpenter, who made the
character-blocks which formed the subjects of illustration. It proved
an extraordinary success in the hands of the originator. He carried
it about England, through the States of America, and, on his return,
to Ireland; and managed to net some ten thousand pounds by this lucky
venture. After he retired more than one actor attempted it, with poor
results. Lewis was the most successful of Stevens's imitators, and he
had made such arrangements with the author as entitled the latter to a
royalty for the use of his 'Lecture on Heads.' It probably derived its
principal charm from the style of its delivery. Read in cold blood, its
brilliancy and point are by no means startling.
1809.
_The Discovery._ Etched by Rowlandson, 1798. Republished, Jan. 1808-9.
_January 15, 1809._ _The Head of the Family in Good Humour._ Published
by Tegg, Woodward del., Rowlandson sc.--John Bull, a very giant among
a race of pigmies, is surrounded by the heads of the different states,
who are all hurling out threats against his chances of peace. Napoleon
is thundering for _Ships, Colonies, and Commerce_. The Muscovite
is denouncing: 'Russian vengeance attend John Bull.' Holland is
blustering: 'I'll eternally smoke him.' Tom Paine is offering this
warning: 'Let him tremble at the name of America.' The other potentates
are following up these threats with valedictions of their own:
'Beware of Prussia;' 'Austria will never pardon him;' 'Spanish fury
overtake him;' and 'Let him beware of Denmark.' John Bull is smiling
good-naturedly at all these empty vapourings: 'Don't make such a riot,
you little noisy brats, all your bustle to me is no more than a storm
in a teacup!'
_January 15, 1809._ _The Old Woman's Complaint, or the Greek Alphabet._
Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--An old country dame has called
upon a pedagogue, with a fanciful grievance, to make respectful
complaints against the dominie's scholars, who, cap in hand, and
satchel on back, are making their entrance into the learned presence,
behind their accuser. The schoolmaster, who wears a red night-cap, and
slippers, is made to say: 'Good woman, you are always making complaints
against my scholars; what have they done to offend you now?' 'Please
your honour's worship, they followed me up and down, and said one to
another, _at her, beat her, damn her, pelt her!_ and a great deal more
that I do not recollect.' The young pupils are explaining the old
lady's misconception: 'Indeed, sir, we were only repeating our Greek
alphabet, in order to get it quite perfect; what the old woman heard
was only _Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta_, and so on to the conclusion!'
_February 1, 1809._ _A Traveller refreshed in a Stagnant Pool, after
the Fatigues of a Dusty Day's Journey._ Published by R. Ackermann,
Strand.
_February 1, 1809._ _Mrs. Bundle in a Rage; or too late for the Stage._
Published by R. Ackermann, Strand.
_February 1, 1809._ _Launching a Frigate._ Newton del., Rowlandson
fecit. Published by T. Tegg, 67 Cheapside.--A trim nymph, very
fashionably dressed, is starting on her travels from an hotel,
situated, as we recognise, from the notice on the wall, near Portsmouth
Dock. The figure of the promenader is drawn with care, and is perfectly
in Rowlandson's most telling manner; behind the curled, feathered,
and blooming damsel, is an ancient and colossal harridan, bedizened
with showy finery, who is supposed to have launched the fair charmer.
Characteristic glimpses of Portsmouth are given in the background of
the picture.
_March 20, 1809._ _A Mad Dog in a Coffee House._ Published by T.
Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--The advent of a nondescript
animal, supposititiously assumed to be a ferocious mad dog, has
produced the utmost terror and confusion amongst the grave frequenters
of a mercantile coffee-house, somewhat after the model of _Garraway's_.
All the city brokers, and pillars of 'change found therein, are scared
out of their sober senses; some, like the little Jew in the corner, are
paralysed with fear; others are trying to creep under the tables; a few
are seeking escape by the door, which they are effectually blocking;
and groups of affrighted fugitives are endeavouring to gain the refuge
of the staircase. A select knot have made for the bar, and are flinging
themselves _pell-mell_ over the counter; the chimney, and similar
places of refuge, are eagerly sought; tables are mounted; comfortable
citizens are thrown on their backs, like turtles, and trodden on, while
the pressure of viler bodies above is expressing a stream of specie
from the well-filled pockets of the overthrown. A cat, her tail swollen
to abnormal proportions, is making a frantic rush into the midst of
the cowering poltroons under the table. Rowlandson generally manages
to introduce certain advertisements appropriate to his subjects, and
a notice stuck on the wall of the coffee-house conveys the following
piece of shipping intelligence: _For the Brazils, 'The Cerberus,'
Captain Pointer. Burden 300 tons. Laying off Barking Creek. Enquire of
Benjamin Bell, Barge Yard, Broker_.
[Illustration: A MAD DOG IN A COFFEE HOUSE.]
1809. _Disappointed Epicures._ Another version of _A Mad Dog in a
Dining-room_.--In this case the dog has run between the legs of a
man bringing in a dish of cutlets, which bestrew the carpet; his
downfall has in turn overset another retainer, whose soup tureen has
come to grief; the butler, more engaged in watching the calamities
of his fellows, has allowed the 'spruce beer' to escape in a shower
of froth all over the place. The scene is well worked out; over the
door of the dining-room is a picture representing a party of corpulent
friars seated round a refectory board. The faces of the party--it is a
bachelor-dinner in this instance--express more annoyance than alarm;
they are dejected at the prospect of a curtailed repast.
1809. _A Mad Dog in a Dining-room, or Disappointed Epicures._--This
print, which has never before been engraved in its present form, is a
literal reproduction of the original study; one of the collection of
drawings by Rowlandson in the possession of the present writer. The
picture tells its own story so graphically, that it is unnecessary to
attempt any fuller elucidation of the subject.
[Illustration: A MAD DOG IN A DINING-ROOM.]