artist's view of the situation, with the smiling prospect of peace
as set forth in 1814, was somewhat premature, as the more desperate
events of the year following amply confirmed; but, with a general
concord prevailing amongst the Allies, with the restless 'disturber of
the peace of Europe' safely dismissed to the Island of Elba, there
to amuse his giant ambition by administering affairs in his miniature
kingdom, the old monarchy being comfortably restored to France for an
interval, it was generally concluded that the world would once more be
suffered to move along pacifically, and that a new era of plenty and
commercial prosperity was reopening.
[Illustration: PEACE AND PLENTY.]
_Peace and Plenty_ are represented much as such things look on the
eve of a congress of military powers, _Peace_ meaning the forces held
in readiness, and _Plenty_, in this case, referring principally to
the war-chest, a plentiful supply of artillery, powder, shell and
shot, and other offensive materials. The scene is fixed on one of the
fortifications which had been set up to protect the security of our
coasts; the cliffs of 'old England' bristle with Martello towers and
island defences. A drummer is sleeping tranquilly, with his arm and
head resting on his instrument, and a pile of cannon balls by his side;
there are great guns of brass and iron, with a mortar and shells, ready
for use, while sentries are on the look-out, and the soldiers are fully
equipped. The British standard is flying, and an air of gallantry is
introduced by the presence of certain buxom females, who are exciting
the admiration of the soldiers of the garrison gathered around the
Dulcineas and ogling and flirting with the skittish fair, whose ample
proportions are such as to win the hearts and turn the heads of these
'sons of Mars,' released for a while from 'war's alarms,' of which the
warriors were becoming reasonably tired after so many years of hard and
comparatively profitless campaigning.
_May 15, 1814._ _Macassar Oil: an oily puff for soft heads._--It is
rather a question whether subjects similar to the present, in which
some popular nostrum was held up to ridicule, were wholly playful or in
part executed to order--a skilful method of indirect puffing much and
ingeniously practised in the magazines and other channels of the day.
The wondrous fluid Macassar is seen in application. A stout old party
has laid off his fool's cap and is seated in an armchair, undergoing
a trial of the efficacy of the oil: the perfectly bald head of the
subject is a good field for its employment, and the operator--who, by
some inconsistency characteristic of vendors of hair restoratives, is
quite bereft of hair himself--is sleepily pouring oil from a flask
over the broad surface beneath him. A lady has apparently been making
a trial of the process, and on consulting the looking-glass she seems
amazed to find a bushy head of hair pushing itself straight upwards
with amazing vigour. Round the apartment are files of bottles, 'wig
oil, one guinea per bottle,' and notices, 'Wonderful discovery: carroty
or grey whiskers changed to black, brown, or blue, &c.'
_June 14, 1814._ _Miseries of London, or a Surly Hackney Coachman._
_June 20, 1814._ _Rural Sports, or a Pleasant Way of Making Hay._
Published by T. Tegg (16).--In the rear are lasses raking the hay
together, and lads are tossing the loads on to the well-filled wains.
In the front of the picture is a group of boisterous haymakers of both
sexes, who, throwing aside their rakes and forks, are tumbling the hay
about by armfuls, rolling one over another in the grass, and sprawling
about in picturesque confusion.
_July 14, 1814._ _The Rivals._ Published by T. Rowlandson, James
Street. (See 1812.)
[Illustration: PORTSMOUTH POINT.]
1814. _Portsmouth Point._ Published by T. Tegg (255).--The varied
humours of Portsmouth are displayed with the caricaturist's native
vigour. Nothing could be more animated than the picture, which has an
air of truth, nor could the scene be represented with fuller character,
all its grotesque features being brought forward with ready fun. The
landing-place is bustling with business; small craft of all sorts are
pulling off to the ships; luggage, spirit-casks, and packages are
being wheeled or shouldered off for debarkation. A couple of sailors,
with hands across to form a sedan, are carrying a stout lady of fashion
down to a lighter. Jack on shore and Jack taking his chest seawards are
elbowing busy stevadores. A commander, his lady, and a porter bearing
his sea-trunk, are in the centre of the crowd; a wooden-legged fiddler
is tipping a stave for 'Poll and her partner Joe,' and a frolicsome
tar is giving a parting salute with more ardour than propriety. On one
side is the respectable element--the admirals, captains, and other
naval officers, and their families, who are parting from wife and
children with a tender embrace at the door of the Ship Tavern; and
many a gallant naval hero is draining his last bowl of punch on shore.
On the opposite side such rougher contrasts are exhibited as common
sailors, lodging houses, outfitting emporiums, cast clothes marts,
and ship-store shops, _Moses Levy--Money Lent_, and similar tempting
emporiums, where customers are inspecting second-hand apparel. Such a
spectacle would not be complete, according to the taste of the times or
the actualities of the case, without some sort of uproariousness, and
so we are treated to the sight of a young lady carted off helplessly
inebriated, a friendly companion supporting her shoulders, and an
honest blue-jacket bearing her legs unceremoniously slung over his
back. Another bacchanalian incident is rendered on the left, where a
grinning sailor, half-seas over, who is at least better-tempered in
his cups than George Cruikshank would have condescended to draw him
in his teetotal days, is sprawling on the road by his broken pipe and
overbalancing a florid and equally tipsy Venus, his lady-love, who is
in some degree the reason of the Jack Tar's degradation.
_September 15, 1814._ _The Three Principal Requisites to form a Man of
Fashion: Dress like a coachman; study boxing and bull-baiting; speak
the slang language fluently._
_September 15, 1814._ _The Four Seasons of Love._ Rowlandson del.
Published by T. Tegg.
_Spring._--A suitor, _Jerry Thimble, Tailor_, is kneeling at the feet
of a blooming fair one; both of the turtle-doves are in the prime of
life. 'Oh, you bewitching angel,' sues the tailor, 'behold at your feet
a swain as tender as a veal cutlet. You are the very broadcloth of
perfection; have pity on me, adorable Mrs. Griskin!' To which appeal
the melting and buxom widow responds: 'You enchanting devil, I do not
know what to say to you; however, Mr. Thimble, that mole between your
eyebrows puts me so much in mind of my poor dear departed husband that
I think I can't refuse you.'
_Summer._--The wedded pair are enjoying a suburban excursion. The
smartened tailor is smiling on his wife and declaring: 'O thou wert
born to please me, my life, my only dear!' The lady, who is advancing
in life, replies: 'Ay, now you look a little stylish; you are a
charming man. Who would not be married!'
_Autumn_ sets in more stormily; the lady, developing into a virago,
is accusing her husband of receiving letters of a tender nature; the
tailor, in reply, is making a counter-charge, relative to 'Mr. Dip, the
dyer, and gallivanting to White Conduit House.'
_Winter_ sees the late couple seated at either side of a lawyer's
table; the man of law is reading the articles of separation, to the
delight of the Thimbles. Mrs. Tabitha declares she never felt so
comfortable in all her life; and Jerry Thimble is exclaiming: 'O
blessed day! I hope to pass the next year in peace and quietness!'
_September 20, 1814._ _Joanna Southcott, the Prophetess,
Excommunicating the Bishops. 'Know I told thee I should begin at the
Sanctuary. I will cut them all off,' having already cut off four
Bishops for refusing to hear of my Visitation._ Published by T. Tegg
(341).--Rowlandson availed himself of the novel religious fever which
had its rise in the fictitious revelations of the so-called Prophetess,
Joanna Southcott, to ridicule both the believers in latter day miracles
and the members of the Establishment conjointly. One specimen of the
caricatures produced on this occasion will suffice. Joanna Southcott
and one of her champions are making a terrific charge on the flying
pillars of the Episcopacy. The Bishops are endeavouring to kick against
the onslaught, and, with mitre, wig, and crozier, are defying their
chastisers; but their courage is feeble, their ranks are breaking, and
they are running off discomfited to save themselves from the coming
wrath, without taking any heed of the overthrown. The Prophetess,
wearing her famous seal round her neck, and clad in _Elijah's mantle_,
is lustily wielding a birch rod; she has caught a fugitive Archbishop
by the foot, and he is vainly struggling to escape corporal correction.
The 'Third Book of Wonders' is open at her feet. Her exertions are
supported by a certain Rev. Roger Towzer, who is chastising the
disorganised heads of the Established Church with his _Flail_; certain
supernatural creatures, with flaming torches and stings and claws, are
harassing the runaways. The Prophetess is very earnest in the work:
'Lay it on, hip and thigh, brave Towzer; smite the unbelievers. I
put no more trust in Bishops as men than I do in their chariots and
horses, but my trust is in the Lord of Hosts.' Her reverend follower
is bruising away vigorously: 'I'll well dust their woolsacks and make
them drunk in my fury. I will bring down their strength to the earth!'
A strong-chest, in the rear, is labelled _Contents of the Sealing; the
Sealed, the Elect, to inherit the Tree of Life_, &c.
1814 (?). _Rural Sports. Buck Hunting._ Rowlandson del. Published by T.
Tegg.--Buck-hunting, as a figurative sport, seems, if we may believe
the print, to be attended with certain difficulties. An antiquated
gentleman, who in the present case seems to be the hunter, is brought
up abruptly, in full view of the quarry, by a river, which he has no
apparent means of crossing. The game in view, a military buck, is 'run
to ground' in a summer-house, on the opposite side of the water, where,
in spite of a warning-board about _Man-traps_, he is visibly poaching
on the hunter's preserves.
1815.
_January 1, 1815._ _Female Politicians._ Published by T. Tegg. Woodward
del., Rowlandson sculp.--The fair members of a well-to-do family are
seated at table. The elder is reading the news of the Corsican's last
outrages: 'They write from Hanover that when Boneyparte took possession
of that country he ravished all the women.' 'Oh, the wretch!' cries
an old maid. A less antiquated lady is giving her fair neighbour the
comforting assurance, 'It's very true, ma'am: it's only a word and a
blow with him; your honour or your property.' 'Well, ma'am,' declares
a buxom creature, 'if he should come here, at all events I'll take
care of my property.' To which a budding maiden is adding, 'So will I,
mamma.'
_March 1, 1815._ _Breaking up of the Blue Stocking Club._ Published
by T. Tegg (343).--The dissolution of this assembly is marked by a
certain amount of animosity and fury. The learned ladies are engaging
in pairs, and the subject under discussion is handled with more zeal
than discretion, the arguments employed being chiefly forcible. The
_Blue Stockings_ are sadly mauled; garments and hair are alike torn
and dishevelled. The table, the tea equipage, and the president's
armchair have all come to grief; one fair and fierce debater is trying
to impress her opponent with the kettle-stand, another has floored her
adversary, and is pouring forth the boiling contents of the urn over a
prostrate foe. Nails, fists, and feet are alike set to work; but the
favourite method of attack seems to be a firm purchase of the enemy's
tresses. Cats are leaping about in dismay, and the whole tableau is one
of unrestrained ferocity and recklessness.
_March 1, 1815._ _Defrauding the Customs, or Shipping Goods not
Fairly Entered._ Rowlandson del. Published by T. Tegg (344).--A scene
of violence, since a pair of strapping damsels, the pride of their
friends, are being carried off bodily, whether they will or no, by two
naval officers, whose sailors are waiting by the shore, with a boat
put to sea in readiness to bear them, and their abducted charges, off
to a ship which is seen at a distance. These unprincipled marauders
have made an attack, in broad daylight, on the two biggest and most
handsome scholars of _Mrs. Crostich's boarding-school for young
ladies_, while the remainder of the tender flock are taking their walks
abroad, with the dame at their head. But neither the vigorous efforts
of the schoolmistress, nor the exertions of an old gentleman, who has
been knocked over in the escape, and is sprawling powerless like a
turtle, nor the efforts of a dog which is worrying the retreat of the
fugitives, seem likely to hinder the accomplishment of their flight or
to prevent the successful completion of their lawless designs.
_March 1, 1815._ _Hodge's Explanation of a Hundred Magistrates._
Published by T. Tegg (347).--Hodge, 'a poor honest country lout, not
overstocked with learning,' has been brought before the bench on some
charge or another. The smock-frocked rustic, cap in hand, is scratching
his tow-like locks and questioning the fairness of the tribunal. 'How,'
cries the chairman, energetically thumping away at the table in his
indignation, 'how dare you, fellow, say it is unfair to bring you
before one hundred magistrates, when you see there are but three of
us?' In reply to which Hodge is posing his interrogator: 'Why, please
your worship, you mun know when I went to school they taught I that a
one and two noughts stood for a hundred; so, do you see, your worship
be one, and the other two be cyphers!'
_March 1, 1815._ _Sailors Drinking the Tunbridge Waters._ Published
by T. Tegg (242).--The artist has sketched the old drinking-well at
Tunbridge; a body of sailors, true British tars, find themselves, by
some queer chance, which is totally unexplained, at the well-known
watering-place, and, what is more mysterious, these sons of Neptune are
in close proximity to the Springs. A comely, well-favoured, and smartly
attired young damsel, the ministering nymph of the fountain--which,
in this instance, it must be confessed, closely resembles a pump--is
presenting a tumbler of the fluid, drawn by her own fair hands, to a
sturdy ancient coxswain, impressing on the weather-beaten salt, 'Be
assured it is an excellent beverage for gentlemen who have been a long
time at sea.' The ancient mariner, in recalling the effects which the
waters had on 'our Poll,' and remembering his own personal interior
sufferings in the Mediterranean, is reluctant to rush into unknown
dangers: 'Why, lookee, ma'am, I don't wish to be unpolite, but, if your
ladyship's honour pleases, I'd rather hang fire a bit.' Another hardy
tar is grappling with the distasteful difficulty and making frightful
attempts to swallow the contents of his tumbler; but a good proportion
of the water is spilt on the ground, while he is pronouncing the stuff
'Dashed queer tipple, to be sure!' Another smart sailor has his tumbler
all safe in his keeping; but he is bribing a diminutive native, who
is complacently staring at the prospective drinker, to run and fetch
something to qualify the cup. 'Hark'ee, young two-shoes, go and get me
a pint of half-and-half and a squeeze of lemon, for darn me if I could
drink it neat if I was never to weigh anchor again.'
_March 13, 1815._ _A Lamentable Case of a Juryman._ Published by T.
Tegg (Nos. 220 and 347).
_April 7, 1815._ _The Flight of Buonaparte from Hell-Bay._ Published
by R. Ackermann.--We find the anticipations offered in the caricatures
of the previous year completely upset by Napoleon's unexpected return.
The method of the Corsican's evasion is treated figuratively; in place
of the Isle of Elba he is supposed to have escaped from the clutches of
the evil one and out of the depths of the infernal regions. The foul
fiend, _Old Scratch_, is represented in person, amusing himself by
letting his captive loose to work fresh mischief in the world above.
A diabolic armchair of serpents is planted beside the fiery lake, and
for pastime Satan is toying with a pipe and blowing air-bubbles, while
an attendant imp is holding a saucer of suds. The Corsican has been
mounted on a bubble blown by the tempter, and then sent careering back
to earth; hissing dragons, and serpents of supernatural species, are
hissing forth flames and blasts of fury, which are serving as winds to
waft the bubble upwards, while the sulphurous fumes are inspiring the
rider with a frantic thirst for vengeance.
_April 8, 1815._ _Hell Hounds Rallying round the Idol of France._
Published by R. Ackermann.--The enthusiasm with which the return of
'Boney' was hailed, from his landing in France till his arrival in
the capital, and the devoted reception he encountered from his old
followers, are made the subjects of more than one travesty. In the
present case the head and bust of the Emperor, on a colossal scale--his
throat encircled by a hangman's noose--is elevated on an immense
pyramid of human heads, his decapitated victims; a brace of demons are
flying through the air to encircle the brow of this apostle of freedom
with a crown of blazing pitch. A ring of excited demons, with horns,
claws, hoofs, and tails, but bearing the heads and faces of Napoleon's
supporters, are dancing in triumph round the idol they have replaced.
From labels attached to the ropes which surround the throttles of these
enthusiastic Bonapartists we discover the so-called 'Hell Hounds' to
be Marshals Ney, Lefebre, Davoust, Vandamme, Savery, Caulincourt, with
Fouché, and others. The old slaughters have recommenced; towns are
committed to the flames, English goods are once more destroyed, and
heaped around are soldiers, some dead and others wounded, to serve the
cause of a rapacious ambition which had drained the blood of France for
years.
1815. _Vive le Roi! Vive l'Empereur! Vive le Diable! French Constancy
and French Integrity._--As might have been foreseen, Napoleon's old
ascendency over the French army asserted itself more strongly than
ever; the intermediate state of things and the humiliations to which
the country was unavoidably forced to submit during the process of
restoring the stolen property and possessions to the rightful owners
had increased the national animosity with which the troops and the
people continued to regard the foreign invaders, friends, allies, and
upholders of _Louis le Desiré_. The more martial spirits, wearied of a
restoration with which France felt no sympathy, began to languish for
the presence of their great captain, under whose military empire their
laurels had been won. The fickleness and instability of the Gallic
race are set forth in the present caricature. A trooper has abjured
his allegiance to the Bourbons, and is hailing his Corporal with a
pinch from his snuffbox; his hat is still garnished with the white
cockade, _Vive le Roi!_ above it is a red one, _Vive le Diable!_ and,
on the other side, the famous tricolor, and _Vive l'Empereur!_ _French
Constancy_ is illustrated in these interchanged emblems. _French
Stability_ appears figuratively likened to the sails of a windmill; as
to _French Integrity_, the emblems of a monkey and cat, kissing and
fondling, pictorially sets forth the 'union between the National Guard
and the troops of the line.'
_April 12, 1815._ _Scene in a New Pantomime, to be performed at the
Theatre Royal, Paris. With entire new music, dances, dresses, scenery,
machinery, &c., &c. The principal characters to be supported by most of
the great potentates in Europe. Harlequin by Monsieur Napoleon; Clown
by King of Wirtemberg; Pantaloon, Emperor of Austria. To conclude with
a comic song, to be sung by the Pope, and a grand chorus by the Crowned
Heads. Vivant Rex et Regina._ Published by R. Ackermann.--The wonderful
exhibition is taking place in the state rooms of the Tuileries. The
great throne is empty, and the sceptre and crown are temporarily laid
on the steps waiting for their owner. _Presto!_ and in flies Harlequin
Bonaparte, pursued at once by all the Powers of Europe, tumbling over
one another in confusion, but all armed and aiming at the nimble
sprite, who had given them so much trouble to capture and secure, and
who is once more to be chased, caught, and bound down again. Clown
Wirtemberg is letting off a brace of pistols; Dutch Mynheer and a
Prussian grenadier are discharging their blunderbusses; Austria, as
Pantaloon, is too startled to be effective; the Cossack is giving
the fugitive a prod with his long lance; the King of Spain has drawn
the sword and aimed such a blow that it has capsized the swordsman
and shaken off his crown; the Pope is armed with an axe; and all the
other potentates are crowding in, an irregular mob. The portrait of
the Empress, as Columbine, is being taken off the walls. As to the
Harlequin, his eye looks dangerous; a dagger is held in either hand-he
evidently means mischief; one tiger-like spring, and he has eluded
all his pursuers, and the blows they are intending for him recoil on
themselves. The portrait of Louis the Eighteenth is in the pathway
for which he is making, and the nimble Corsican, in his character of
Harlequin, is jumping clean through the huge paunch of the tranquil
Bourbon and regaining the security of his old strongholds.
_April 16, 1815._ _The Corsican and his Blood Hounds at the Window of
the Tuileries, looking over Paris._ Published by R. Ackermann.--Boney,
on his arrival in Paris, proceeded to his old quarters in the
Tuileries, whence Louis the Eighteenth had but just departed.
Napoleon, in spite of his fatigue--for he had barely rested since
his landing--sat up all night, concerting fresh measures with his
supporters; and in the morning he held a grand review in the Champ de
Mars, where his presence excited the most frantic demonstrations of
fidelity. France showed herself intoxicated with joy at the chance
of receiving back a leader with whom she had, inconsistently enough,
parted without expressing much emotion or regret, except so far as
the Emperor's more immediate personal adherents were concerned. In
the picture we have the streets of Paris represented as being filled
with a surging multitude of enthusiasts, while standards, eagles, and
heads of enemies are held up on pikes, by the wilder fanatics, as signs
of encouragement. _Death_ and the _Devil_ are tempting the Corsican
from the balcony of the Tuileries; in 'return for more horrors,' and
in exchange for 'death and destruction,' all that he sees is offered
the conqueror. The bony skeleton is pointing out the bargain with his
dart; but Time's hourglass is standing unperceived at Napoleon's side
and the sand is running forth. The figure of the Devil is resting his
arms fraternally on the shoulders of Boney and Marshal Ney and drawing
them into an ill-starred embrace. The other marshals and adherents are
in the rear; but a marked expression of apprehension is shown on the
faces of the entire party, with the exception of the two supernatural
visitors, who are grinning at the anticipation of fresh iniquities
and increasing deadly horrors, with which they entertain the certain
prospect of being gratified by their pet _protégé_.
_May 10, 1815._ _The Carter and the Gipsies._ Published by T. Tegg.