Chapter XIV: Book XV: c. 5. Lord Fellamar rudely dismissed by Squire Western (2)

'And if you've a mind for a frolic, i' faith,
I'll just step and see you jump into the bath.'
Thinks I to myself, they are after some fun,
And I'll see what they're doing, as sure as a gun:
Oh! 'twas pretty to see them all put on their flannels,
And then take the water like so many spaniels;
And though all the while it grew hotter and hotter,
They swam just as if they were hunting an otter.
'Twas a glorious sight to behold the fair sex
All wading with gentlemen up to their necks,
And view them so prettily tumble and sprawl
In a great smoking kettle as big as our hall;
And to-day many persons of rank and condition
Were boil'd by command of an able physician.

* * * * *

You cannot conceive what a number of ladies
Were stewed in the water the same as our maid is:
So Tabby, you see, had the honour of washing
With folks of distinction and very high fashion;
But in spite of good company, poor little soul,
She shook both her ears like a mouse in a bowl.
But what is surprising, no mortal e'er view'd
Any one of the physical gentlemen stew'd;
Since the day that King Bladud first found out these bogs,
And thought them so good for himself and his hogs,
Not one of the faculty ever has try'd
These excellent waters to cure his own hide;
Tho' many a skilful and learned physician,
With candour, good sense, and profound erudition,
Obliges the world with the fruits of his brain,
Their nature and hidden effects to explain.

_Plate VIII._

Our trade is encouraged as much, if not more,
By the tender soft sex I shall ever adore;
But their husbands, those brutes, have been known to complain,
And swear they will never set foot here again.
Ye wretches ingrate! To find fault with your wives,
The comfort, the solace, and joy of your lives;
Oh! that women, whose price is so far above rubies,
Should fall to the lot of such ignorant boobies!
Doesn't Solomon speak of such women with rapture,
In verse the eleventh and thirty-first chapter?
And surely that wise King of Israel knew
What belonged to a woman much better than you!
He says, 'If you find out a virtuous wife,
She will do a man good all the days of her life;
She deals like a merchant, she sitteth up late.'
And you'll find it is written in verse twenty-eight,
Her husband is sure to be known at the gate:
He never hath need or occasion for spoil,
When his wife is much better employ'd all the while;
She seeketh fine wool, and fine linen she buys,
And is clothed in purple and scarlet likewise.
Now, pray, don't your wives do the very same thing,
And follow th' advice of that worthy old king?
Do they spare for expenses themselves in adorning?
Don't they go about buying fine things all the morning?
And at cards all the night take the trouble to play,
To get back the money they spent in the day?
But these to their husbands more profit can yield,
And are much like a lily that grows in the field;
They toil not, indeed, nor, indeed, do they spin,
Yet they never are idle when once they begin,
But are very intent on increasing their store,
And always keep shuffling and cutting for more.
Industrious creatures! that make it a rule
To secure half the fish, while they _manage_ the pool;
Methinks I should like to excel in a trade
By which such a number their fortunes have made.
I've heard of a wise, philosophical Jew,
That shuffles the cards in a manner that's new;
One Jonas, I think; and could wish for the future
To have that illustrious sage for my tutor;
And the Captain, whose kindness I ne'er can forget,
Will teach me a game that he calls _lansquenet_.

_Plate IX._

SONG, WRITTEN AT MR. GILL'S, AN EMINENT COOK AT BATH.

Of all the cooks the world can boast,
However great their skill,
To bake or fry, to boil or roast,
There's none like Master Gill.

Sweet rhyming troop, no longer stoop
To drink Castalia's rill;
Whene'er ye droop O taste the soup
That's made by Master Gill.

'Tis this that makes my Chloe's lips
Ambrosial sweets distil;
For leeks and cabbage oft she sips
In soup that's made by Gill.

Immortal bards, view here your wit,
The labours of your quill,
To singe the fowl upon the spit
Condemned by Master Gill.

My humble verse that fate shall meet,
Nor shall I take it ill;
But grant, ye gods! that I may eat
That fowl, when drest by Gill.

These are your true poetic fires
That drest this savoury grill;
Even while I eat the Muse inspires,
And tunes my voice to Gill.

When Chloe strikes the vocal lyre,
Sweet Lydian measures thrill;
But I the gridiron more admire,
When tuned by Master Gill.

'Come, take my sage of ancient use,'
Cries learned Doctor Hill;
'But what's the sage without the goose?'
Replies my Master Gill.

He who would fortify his mind,
His belly first should fill;
Roast beef 'gainst terrors best you'll find;
'The Greeks knew this,' says Gill.

Your spirits and your blood to stir,
Old Galen gives a pill;
But I the forced-meat ball prefer,
Prepared by Master Gill.

_Plate X._

What joy at the ball, what delight have I found,
By all the bright circle encompassed around!
Each moment with transport my bosom felt warm,
For what, my dear mother, like beauty can charm!
E'en the Goddess of Love, and the Graces, and all
Must yield to the beauties I've seen at the ball;
For Jove never felt such a joy at his heart,
Such a heat as these charming sweet creatures impart.
In short, there is something in very fine women,
When they meet all together, that's quite overcoming.

* * * * *

But hark! now they strike the melodious string,
The vaulted roof echoes, the mansions all ring;
At the sound of the hautboy, the bass, and the fiddle,
Sir Boreas Blubber steps forth in the middle.
Now why should I mention a hundred or more,
Who went the same circle as others before,
To a tune that they play'd us a hundred times o'er?
And who at the ball on that night did appear,
Who danc'd in the van and who limp'd in the rear,
What dukes and what drapers, what barbers and peers,
What marquises, earls, and what knights of the _shears_,
What cook and what countess, what nymphs of the brooms,
What mop-sceptred queens came that night to the Rooms.
But at what time they heard the horn's echoing bellow,
The hautboy's shrill twang, the brisk fiddle, the mellow
Bassoon, and the sweet grumbling violoncello.
At what time they heard the men puff and belabour
With mouth, stick, and fist the gay pipe and the tabour,
At once they did scuttle, did flutter and run,
And take wing like wild-geese alarm'd with a gun,
In a moment came bustling and rustling between one;
Some coupled like rabbits, a fat and a lean one,
Some pranc'd up before, some did backward rebound,
While some more in earnest, with looks more profound,
And sweat-bedew'd foretops, did lard the lean ground;
But others more neat on the pastern arose,
Like the figure of Pan, whom you've seen, I suppose,
Just saluting the turf with the tips of his toes;
And as nothing, I think, can more please and engage
Than a contrast of stature, complexion, and age,
Miss CURD with a partner as black as Omiah,
KITTY TIT shook her heels with old Doctor GOLIAH,
And little JOHN CROP, like a pony just nick't,
With long DOLLY LOADERHEAD scamper'd and kick't.
As for MADGE, tho' young SQUIRT had been promised the honour,
BILLY DASHER stept forth and at once seized upon her;
While with flames that keen jealousy's rage did improve,
Poor SQUIRT felt the heart rending passion of love.

_Plate XI._

For persons of taste and true spirit, I find,
Are fond of attracting the eyes of mankind:
What numbers one sees, who, for that very reason,
Come to make such a figure at Bath ev'ry season!
'Tis this that provokes Mrs. Shenkin Ap-Leek
To dine at the ord'nary twice in a week,
Though at home she might eat a good dinner in comfort,
Nor pay such a cursed extravagant sum for't;
But then her acquaintance would never have known
Mrs. Shenkin Ap-Leek had acquired the _bon ton_;
Ne'er show how in taste the Ap-Leeks can excel
The Duchess of Truffles and Lady Morell;
Had ne'er been ador'd by Sir Pye Macaroni,
And Count Vermicelli, his intimate crony;
Both men of such _taste_, their opinions are taken
From an ortolan down to a rasher of bacon.

* * * * *

The company made a most brilliant appearance,
And ate bread and butter with great perseverance
All the chocalate, too, that my lord set before 'em,
The ladies despatched with the utmost decorum.
The peer was quite ravished, while close to his side
Sat Lady Bunbutter, in beautiful pride!
Oft turning his eyes, he with rapture surveyed
All the powerful charms she so nobly displayed.
Oh had I a voice that was stronger than steel,
With twice fifty tongues to express what I feel,
And as many good mouths, yet I never could utter
All the speeches my Lord made to Lady Bunbutter!
So polite all the time that he ne'er touched a bit,
While she ate up his rolls and applauded his wit:
For they tell me that men of _true taste_, when they treat,
Should talk a great deal, but they never should eat;
I freely will own, I the muffins preferred
To all the genteel conversation I heard.

_Plate XII._

I never as yet could the reason explain,
Why we all sallied forth in the wind and the rain;
For sure such confusion was never yet known;
Here a cap and a hat, there a cardinal blown!

* * * * *

How the Misses did huddle, and scuddle, and run!
One would think to be wet must be very good fun;
For by waggling their tails, they all seemed to take pains
To moisten their pinions, like ducks when it rains.
I saw, all at once, a prodigious great throng
Come bustling, and rustling, and jostling along;
As home we came--'tis with sorrow you'll hear
What a dreadful disaster attended the peer.

_April 1, 1798._ _Views of London._ No. 3.--Entrance of Tottenham Court Road Turnpike, with a view of St. James's Chapel. Rowlandson delin., Schultz sculp. Published April 1, 1798, Ackermann's Gallery, Strand.

_April 1, 1798._ _Views of London._ No. 4.--Entrance of Oxford Street or Tyburn Turnpike, with a view of Park Lane. Rowlandson delin., Schultz sculp. Published April 1, 1798, Ackermann's Gallery, Strand.

_June 1, 1798._ _Views of London._ No. 5.--Entrance from Mile End or Whitechapel Turnpike. Rowlandson delin., Schultz sculp. Published June 1, 1798. Ackermann's Gallery, Strand.

_June 1, 1798._ _Views of London._ No. 6.--Entrance from Hackney or Cambridge Heath Turnpike, with a distant view of St. Paul's. Rowlandson delin., Schultz sculp. Published June 1, 1798. Ackermann's Gallery, Strand.

_May 1, 1798._ _He won't be a Soldier._ Schultz sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_May 1, 1798._ _She will be a Soldier._ Schultz sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

1798. _An extraordinary scene on the road from London to Portsmouth, or an instance of unexampled speed used by a body of Guards, consisting of 1,920 rank and file, besides officers; who on June 10, 1798, left London in the morning, and actually began to embark for Ireland at Portsmouth at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, having travelled seventy-four miles in ten hours._ Rowlandson del., Schultz sculpt.

_July 18, 1798._ _Light Horse Volunteers of London and Westminster, Reviewed by His Majesty on Wimbledon Common._ July 5, 1798.

_August 1, 1798._ _Soldiers Recruiting, 1._ Rowlandson del., Schultz sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_August 1, 1798._ _The Cottage Door._ Rowlandson del., Schultz sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_August 1, 1798._ _Private Drilling, 5._ Rowlandson del., Schultz sculpt. Published by R. Ackermann.

_September 1, 1798._ _The Consequence of not Shifting the Leg._ Published by H. Angelo, Curzon Street, Mayfair.

_September 1, 1798._ _The Advantage of Shifting the Leg._ Published by H. Angelo, Curzon Street, Mayfair.

_October 15, 1798._ _The glorious victory obtained over the French fleet off the Nile on August 1, 1798, by the gallant Admiral Lord Nelson of the Nile._--Showing the distressed situation of the French frigate _La Serieuse_, of 36 guns and 250 men, which, after having been dismasted, sank. _L'Orient_ of 120 guns, and 1,010 men, commanded by the French Admiral Brueys, is seen in the background blowing up, by which she considerably damaged _The Majestic_, of 74 guns, 590 men, commanded by Captain Westcott, who fell early in the action. _The Majestic was_, after his death, fought with the utmost bravery by her first lieutenant, Mr. Cuthbert, during the remainder of the action. London: published October 15, 1798, at Ackermann's Gallery, 101 Strand. Rowlandson del.

_October 20, 1798._ _Admiral Nelson recruiting with his brave tars after the glorious Battle of the Nile._ Rowlandson del. and sculp. Published at Ackermann's Gallery, Strand.--The gallant admiral and his chosen captains are raised above the crowd on deck; they are, like true British tars of the old school, encouraging the _esprit de corps_ which the hero perfectly understood, since he was able, so far as the sea-lions who served under him were concerned, to cultivate it to such unmeasurable advantage for the honour of his country.

The brave tars, of all denominations, are thoroughly enjoying themselves after their own hearts, while commemorating the immortal victory of Aboukir Bay, and with each successive bumper are toasting their idol, who is set in their midst, and drinking success and glory to the navy of Old England, and confusion to her enemies--patriotic sentiments to which one and all were prepared to give practical effect in the hour of action.

Dammy Jack, what a gig, what a true British whim,
Let the fiddles strike up on the main:
What seaman would care for an eye or a limb
To fight o'er the battle again?
Put the bumpers about and be gay,
To hear how our doxies will smile.
Here's to Nelson for ever, huzza,
And King George on the banks of the Nile.
See their tricolor'd rags how they're doft,
To show that we're lords of the sea,
While the standard of England is flying aloft,
Come, my lads, let us cheer it with three!

1798. _A Mahomedan Paradise._--A Turk embracing an elegantly dressed and highly presentable female.

_November 12, 1798._ _High Fun for John Bull, or the Republicans put to their last shift._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The victory gained by Nelson at Aboukir Bay, over the combined fleets, disconcerted the French enthusiasts and restored confidence at home; it was recognised that while English admirals could sweep their enemies from the seas, neither the dangers of invasion, nor the difficulties of contending with France, need be ranked of much consequence. In the print, John Bull is enjoying the _High Fun_ of setting his opponents to equip fresh fleets, in order that his sailors may carry them off captive as trophies. A _Dutch Oven_ is serving as the bakery, Mynheer is pushing in a fresh batch of war frigates; 'Donder and Blaxan to dis fraternisation, instead of smoking mine pipes, and sacking de gold, dis French broders make me build ships, dat Mynheer Jan Bull may have the fun to take dem.' The Spaniard, with a tray of big guns, is faring no better under fraternisation. 'How! that Nelson wit one arm and eye can take our ships by dozens, then vat shall we do against the autres, wid two arms and eyes? day will have two dozen at a time.' The Frenchmen are excited over their prospects; the head baker has a fine batch ready for the oven: 'Sacredieu, Citoyens, make a haste wit one autre fleet, den we will show you how to make one grande Invasion;' the journeyman is working at his kneading tub, which contains such ingredients for fresh fleets as, _Ruination, Botheration, Confiscation, Requisition, Plunderation, Limitation, Execution, Constitution, Fraternisation, Naturalisation, Expedition, Abolition, Cut-throatation, and Damnation_. The assistant is not hopeful: 'By Gat, well you may talk, make haste, when that English Nelson take our ships by the douzaine!' John Bull, whip in hand, is laughing with satisfaction: 'What! you could not find that out before, you stupid dupes, but since you began the fun you shall keep on--so work away, dam ye, else Jack Tar will soon be idle.' Jack Tar is seen hopping off with a full load of ships; his spirits are excellent: 'Push on, keep moving, I'll soon come for another cargo; Old England for ever, huzza!'

1798. _The Discovery._ Republished 1800, 1808-9, &c.--A bed-chamber is the scene of the discovery; a young couple have been surprised by a corpulent old gentleman, who is threatening a kneeling and simple-looking youth with a red-hot poker; the detected swain, who has been disclosed in a cupboard, is entreating forgiveness with clasped hands, and the lady is dissolved in tears.

Published 1798. Lately published by William Wigstead, 40 Charing Cross. Printed September, 1799.

Published 1798. _Annals of Horsemanship.--Containing accounts of accidental experiments, and experimental accidents, both successful and unsuccessful, communicated by various correspondents to Geoffrey Gambado, Esq._ Illustrated with seventeen copper plates. Printed on a super-royal paper. Price in boards, 15_s._ 3_d._

Published 1798. _The Academy of Grown Horsemen.--Containing complete instructions for walking, trotting, cantering, galloping, stumbling, and tumbling._ Printed on a super-royal paper, and illustrated with twelve copper plates. Price in boards, 15_s._ 3_d._

Published 1798. _Love in Caricature._ On eleven plates, etched by Rowlandson; with a humorous frontispiece. The plates consist of--Spiritual Lovers, Aged Lovers, Sympathetic Lovers, Quarrelsome Lovers, Duke's Place Lovers, Avaricious Lovers, Country Lovers, Forgiving Lovers, Bashful Lovers, Platonic Lovers, and Drunken Lovers. Published in two numbers, 5_s._ each.

1799.

_January 1, 1799._ _Cries of London. No. 1. Buy a Trap, a Rat-Trap, buy my Trap._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The vendor of rat-traps is pausing before a shop decorated with such live stock as a rabbit in a hutch, and a jackdaw in a cage; he is offering his traps to a spectacled old gentleman, who is considering his ware with curiosity. The rats in a trap, carried on the trap-seller's arm, are exciting the interest of a dog.

_January 1, 1799._ _Cries of London. No. 2. Buy my Goose, my Fat Goose._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A fat countrified-looking dealer is offering some fine fat geese for sale at the door of an apothecary, who, with his wife, is examining the birds with unnecessary closeness.

_February 20, 1799._ _Cries of London. No. 3. Last Dying Speech and Confession._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A street ballad singer, of the St. Giles' order, is crying the last speech of 'the unfortunate malefactors who were executed this morning:' a common enough announcement when the extreme punishment of hanging visited small offences, and executions were of more frequent occurrence. That the fear of capital punishment did not act as a corrective to theft is illustrated in the background of the print, where a mere infant is drawn in the act of picking the pocket of a passing pedestrian.

_February 20, 1799._ _Cries of London. No. 4. Do you want any brick-dust?_ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--From this plate it seems that brick-dust, in the artist's days, was sold like sand. A patient donkey is saddled with an enormous pannier of brick-dust, and the vendor is pouring the contents of a measure into a bowl, held at the door of a highly respectable residence, by a pretty maid, to whose personal captivations the attentions of the brick-dust dealer are most particularly addressed.

_March 1, 1799._ _Cries of London. No. 5. Water-cresses, come buy my Water-cresses._ An old shylock-like person is knocking at a door in Portland Street (Mrs. Burke's), and is solicited to buy water-cresses by a neat maiden with a pretty face and a tall shapely form; the old reprobate is leering at the water-cress girl, and is disregarding a further offer of cresses from a more ragged and juvenile seller. A pair of highly-coloured damsels, redundant in charms and florid finery, are peering out of an upper window at the aged visitor.

1799. _Cries of London. No. 6. All a-growing, a-growing; here's flowers for your gardens._--A smart young gardener, with a substantial cart, drawn by a donkey, has a handsome selection of various evergreens and flowers for sale; he is standing at the door of a mansion, where a lady and little girl are choosing from his stock of geraniums in pots.

_May 4, 1799._ _Cries of London. No. 8. Hot cross buns, two a penny buns._--A decent woman, wearing a white apron, and with a cloth over her basket, is supplying a patroness with a plateful of hot cross buns. A pretty woman, in a neat morning dress, is buying buns, and her children by her side are tasting the same without any loss of time. Outside a church, in the background, is a stout dignitary, with flowing gown, sleeves, and full wig, who is sweeping away from an appeal for charity addressed to him by a beggar woman and her offspring.

_February 1, 1799._ _A Charm for a Democracy, Reviewed, Analysed, and Destroyed, January 1, 1799, to the confusion of its Affiliated Friends._ Published for the _Anti-Jacobin Review_, by T. Whittle, Peterborough Court, Fleet Street.--The Tory party at the beginning of 1799 (the parliamentary session had opened at the end of November 1788) endeavoured to stifle the Opposition by raising outcries against sedition, and by denouncing publications of a revolutionary tendency, with which they pretended to implicate the Whigs. On the strength of certain alarmist tracts, extraordinary measures were taken to restrain the liberty of the press, and a few months later, in July, the Ministry went so far as to put into effect the extreme measure of subjecting printing presses to a licence. The organs of the Tories, exulting in the discomfiture of their opponents, were continually urging increased and severer political persecutions, while they pretended that the members of the Opposition were, in despair of succeeding in preserving their party by fair means, identifying themselves with the more treasonable writers, and were laying secret trains for the destruction of the Constitution. The King's Bench, Newgate, and Coldbath Fields began to be crowded with political prisoners, the last-mentioned receiving the popular nickname of _the Bastille_. The _Anti-Jacobin Review_ was, as usual, peculiarly smart at the expense of the malcontents, and Rowlandson's assistance was enlisted to prepare a cartoon which, it was supposed, would expose the Whigs in their true colours, and hold up the abettors of sedition to the execration of all loyal subjects.

There are four elements displayed in this general view of the fancied emergency: the supernatural department, headed by the arch-fiend in person; the Radical pamphleteers and so-called workers of treason; the prominent members of the disconcerted Opposition and their followers; and the King and his ministers displayed, as Olympians, in the clouds. The Infernal Influence is superintending the preparation of the charm, which Horne Tooke and his friends, as the witches in Macbeth, are working at a boiling cauldron; the nature of the component parts of the conjuration are thus set forth:--

Eye of STRAW and toe of CADE,
TYLER'S bow, KOSCIUSKO'S blade,
RUSSELL'S liver, tongue of cur,
NORFOLK'S boldness, FOX'S fur;
Add thereto a tiger's cauldron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron!

One of Horne Tooke's colleagues is working the incantation from a breviary of his own, 'Lying, False Swearing, &c.,' and is flourishing a witch's besom, 'Thrice the Gallic wolves have bayed!' Another of the weird sisterhood is stirring the unholy mixture, crying: 'Thrice! and twice King's Heads have fallen!' Horne Tooke is attending to the fuel department; he is muttering: ''Tis time, 'tis time, 'tis time!' The witches' familiars are whirling above their heads, and in the midst of the flames from the cauldron, in the shape of wild cats, with wings; a flying monkey, with 'Voltaire' on his collar; a tiger with vulture wings, marked Robespierre; and Dr. Price's little dog, which is even more remarkable than the animal associated with the early magicians, are the ministering imps. The fiend, with his pitch-fork, and attended by dragons, serpents, Cerberus, and other terrific monsters of an imaginative construction, suggestive of Callot's grotesques, is directing as head cook the Democratic philter-workers to

Pour in streams of Regal Blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

The inflammable materials, which are piled up to make the pot boil, and fanned into flames by a diabolical news-boy, from the _Courier_, consist of such combustibles as _O'Connor's Manifesto_; _Oakley's Pyrology_; _Belsham's History_; _Rights of Nature_; _Quigley's Dying Speech_; _Freud's Atheism_; _Whig Club_; _Universal Equality_; _Darwin's topsey-turvey Plants and Animals' Destruction_; _Sedition_; _French Freedom_; _Political Liberty_; _Duty of Insurrection_; _Equality_; _Fraud_; _Sophisms_; _Blasphemy_; _Heresy_; _Deism_, together with such fiery sentiments as _Kings can do no good_; _Joel Barlow_; _Resistance is Prudence_; _The Vipers of Monarchy and Aristocracy will soon be strangled by the infant Democracy_; _Kings are Servants_, _&c._; with the _Analytical Review_, a rival publication, thrown in as _Fallen never to rise again_.

The Duke of Bedford is at the head of the Opposition; the members seem to fare badly between the two extremes of Pittites and Radicals, the leader is demanding: 'Where are they! Gone. Pocketed the Church and Poorlands! The Tythes next!' The Duke of Norfolk is deploring the 'Fallen Sovereignty (of the People). Degraded Counsellor!' having been deprived of some of his offices as a punishment for the famous toast. Lord Derby is equally hopeless: 'Poor Joe is done. No Test, no Corporation Acts.' Fox, who had kept his word and absented himself from the debates, is reduced to a tattered state, and enquires: 'Where can I hide my secluded head?' Erskine, in legal trim, as 'Counsellor Ego,' is deploring: 'Ah, woe is me--poor I!' Tierney is regretting his past activity: 'Would I had never spoke of the licentiousness of the press!' Sir Francis Burdett, who had brought an investigation into the abuses practised on the unfortunates in the New State prison, before the House, a motion founded on his own observations, is enquiring: 'What can I report to my friends at the _Bastille_?' Thelwall, with his lectures under his arm, is 'Off to Monmouthshire;' and the followers of the dispirited 'party' are wandering blindly, lost in the 'Cave of Despair.'

Above the clouds is the King as Jupiter, with his supporters; light is being poured down in streams, upon the machinations of the disaffected patriots, from a symbolical source: _Afflavit Deus et Dissipantur_. 'Your Destruction cometh as a whirlwind!' 'Vengeance is ripe!' The monarch is strangling a brace of serpents, and asserting, 'Our enemies are confounded!' One minister is offering congratulations on a 'Great Victory!' while Pitt, behind the Crown, is insinuating an expeditious method of disposing of his adversaries: 'Suspend their bodies.' The Lord Chancellor, careful of the forms of law, is suggesting a more formal mode of procedure: 'Take them to the King's Bench and Coldbath Fields!'

_February 10, 1799._ _An Artist Travelling in Wales._ Rowlandson delin., Mercke sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The caricaturist--in company with his friend, Henry Wigstead, himself a bit of an artist, further given to sportive flirtation with the Muses--visited North and South Wales in August 1797, for the purpose of carrying out a picturesque tour, to which the two travellers furnished the accompaniments of descriptive sketches and sketchy descriptions. The journey was undertaken solely as a pleasure trip, and not carried out with the intention of 'making a book.' It seems, however, that the interest which partial friends took in the notes of scenery, as found in Rowlandson's sketch-books, and in the minutes of travel, as jotted down in Wigstead's journal, finally prevailed over the travellers' reluctance to make much of a little; and accordingly, some two years later, the _Remarks on a Tour to North and South Wales_ were submitted to the public, in the form of an octavo book, with some additional views by the hands of Pugh, Howitt, &c. (See 1800.)

Rowlandson appears both to have enjoyed this excursion, and to have been able to turn his opportunities to good account. He made several characteristic landscape sketches, and the present writer possesses a few drawings, in various stages of progress, which were evidently commenced on the spot.

A more Rowlandsonian relic of the tour is preserved in the plate, _An Artist Travelling in Wales_, first published soon after the traveller's return to town. Who the artist so represented may be the writer is not prepared to assert; but, as caricaturists have a well-recognised habit of turning not only the figures of their friends, but their own persons, to satiric usages on occasions, it is suggested that the large and gaunt limner, with his strongly-outlined features, and with his long legs slung across a Welch pony, may offer some points of resemblance to the designer; it is evident that more than once (See _The Chamber of Genius_, April 2, 1812) Rowlandson has burlesqued his own figure, or made himself the hero of equivocal situations, much as artists who have lived in our times have, now and again, delighted to introduce their own features amidst the fictitious personages they have thought proper or have been called upon to introduce. Notably in the cases of Thackeray and Cruickshank, this whimsical _penchant_ is of such frequent occurrence, that the student, curious in tracing out such eccentricities of genius, will be able to discover at least a dozen characteristic and intentional resemblances of those admirable masters scattered over their illustrations, and relating to various periods of their careers.

It may be that remembrances of his old master at the Academy, Richard Wilson, who held the office of Librarian when the waggish youth, Rowlandson, was a student at the Academy, floated through the artist's mind in the course of his Welsh peregrinations, and tempted him to combine points of personality peculiar to both. It was not the first time Rowley's pencil had taken liberties with the marked traits of 'Red-nosed Dick,' who died, it must be conceded, some fifteen years before the tour in question. At all events, Peter Pindar, the witty and vituperative, was one of Rowlandson's intimates, and his advice to landscape-painters in general and to his friend and chum, Richard Wilson, in particular, whose talents he had the daring to lavishly acknowledge in the face of a generation which treated the artist with cold neglect because, forsooth, his works were 'not fashionable,' should appropriately be engraved below Rowlandson's unflattering presentation:--

Claude painted in the open air.
Therefore to Wales at once repair,
Where scenes of true magnificence you'll find;
Besides this great advantage--if in debt,
You'll have with creditors no _tête-à-tête_;
So leave the bull-dog bailiffs all behind,
Who hunt you with what noise they may,
Must hunt for needles in a stack of hay.

A view in Wales is faithfully pictured; the unsophisticated natives are struck with astonishment at the figure of the travelling artist, whose profession they are far from comprehending, and whose paraphernalia excite their wonder. Rain, which is not unknown in the Principality, is wrapping landscape and figures in a moist embrace. The artist's very remarkable umbrella is a poor protection; his hat is limp; for safety his long clay pipe, a luxury difficult to replace, is thrust through a slit in the flap; his lank locks are dripping; the moisture is concentrating, and dropping down his well-defined proboscis. Of course it was necessary, in such an expedition, to bear the baggage and incidental impedimenta. A box contains the artist's larder and wardrobe; his saddle-bags hold the provisions of the hour; beside him swing his tea-kettle and coffee-pot; his goodly sketch-book is slung across his back, much as the observant traveller may have seen canvasses strapped across the shoulders of pedestrian artists during the season, and in the vicinity of Bettews, Conway and the Lluwy in our day. The easel is folded up--and a vastly unwieldy affair it is--on the back of the stumpy pony; brushes, a palette, knife, flasks of oil of goodly proportions, and a palette of extensive dimensions, are attached to the animal's neck; and thus equipped, the man of paint and his rough steed are picking a devious way through the saturating moisture, up and down the steep mountains of the country: a pleasant souvenir of past hardships and discomforts by the way.

_February 18, 1799._ _Nautical Characters._

1. Cabin boy.
2. Sailor.
3. Marine.
4. Cook.
5. Midshipman.
6. Purser.
7. Lieutenant.
8. Captain.
9. Admiral.
10. Captain of Marines.

_March 1, 1799._ _An Irish Howl._ Published for the _Anti-Jacobin Review_ by T. Whittle, Peterborough Court, Fleet Street.--The month following, the Irish patriots, and rebels alike, were favoured with a view of their position, which was hardly more encouraging than the pictorial prospect held out for the enlightenment of the Democrats at home. A National Convention is supposed to have been assembled; the members are thrown into consternation; and the table, round which they have been deliberating over the concoction of their organ the _United Irishmen_, is upset. A diabolical visitation is sufficient to account for this confusion. A monstrous representative of the Fiend of Evil, with formidable horns and claws, bearing a pitchfork over his shoulder, and with the French cap of Liberty, labelled _Anarchy_, on his brow, is intruding on the scene, with a masterpiece of his own preparation, setting forth the tender fate which the Irish patriots were likely to meet at the hands of their allies the Jacobins. _Le Tableau Parlant_ affects to portray an 'Irish Stew, a favourite dish for French Palates.' The sons of Erin are, according to the canvas, thrust into a 'Revolutionary Pot,' which is boiling over a fierce fire; certain Jacobin French cooks, wearing the caps of Liberty, are thrusting their betrayed disciples into the seething cauldron, '_Equality_, all to be stewed _en masse_,' while another apostle of Freedom is clapping on the lid: 'Liberty of being stewed!' The Arch-Deceiver, thrusting out a forked tongue, is imparting his instructions: 'Stew it well; it cannot be overdone for you and me!'

The United Irishmen are variously affected with despair at the probable end of their plottings. One patriot, intended for Grattan, or O'Connor, is exclaiming, 'My merits with the Republic should have saved me; but I find we must all stew together!' A ragged Reformer is thrown on his back; a bundle of pikes are at his feet; a case of _Radical Reform_. A papist friar is crying: 'By St. Patrick, a complete Catholic emancipation.' Others of the party are crushed. A legal gentleman is moaning in despair: 'So much for Republicanism and glorious independence! No money! No lawyer!' His neighbour cries: 'I now howl in vain; we are all gone to pot!' Another patriot is thinking regretfully of Ireland's proper and natural ally: 'Brother John would not have treated us so! What your own O'Connor, too!' The Map of Ireland is dragged to pieces, and dismantled by flying devils and imps of mischief christened 'Tallien, Barras, Lepaux,' &c. One of the united brethren is turning his eyes on the pitiful end of the Green Isle: 'Poor Erin, how thou'rt torn to pieces by these five harpies!'

1799. _An Etching after Raphael Urbinas._ An example of Rowlandson's powerful renderings of studies after the old masters, executed in a bold and flowing manner.--The nude figure of a man, who has probably been sleeping at the foot of a tree, has suddenly unfolded his cloak and found himself confronted by a hissing serpent, which has raised itself on its tail in readiness to attack the unprepared victim, whose face is made to wear an expression of statuesque horror. A club is on the ground at the feet of the man.

_Apollo, Lyra and Daphne._ Frontispiece probably to a book of music.--Apollo, with his crook and shepherd's dog by his side, and with sheep at his feet, is seated at the entrance to a wood. Several musical instruments, bound together with ribands, are hung on the branch of a tree over his head. On the other side of the picture is a nymph in classic guise, evidently captivated with his harmonies; she is resting her hand on the shoulder of a second listening maiden, dressed as a shepherdess.

_April 10, 1799._ _St. Giles's Courtship._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

Here vulgar Nature plays her coarser part,
And eyes speak out the language of the heart,
While health and vigour swell the youthful vein,
To die with rapture, but to live again.

_April 10, 1799._ _St. James's Courtship._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

1799. _View of a Cathedral Town on Market Day_ (_Great Yarmouth_), Rowlandson del. and sculp.

_May 10, 1799._ _Borders for Rooms and Screens._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand. Woodward delin. Etched by Rowlandson. In twenty-four sheets. Republished May 20 and August 1.

_June 20, 1799._ _Connoisseurs._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--The interior of a cabinet of choice works of art. On an easel is displayed a florid and somewhat suggestive picture of Venus and Cupid richly framed. An old connoisseur, with a glass to his eye, and his three-cornered hat under his arm, is seated in an easy elbow chair, critically examining the work in question. Three other distinguished _dilettanti_ are peering over his back, and stretching their noses as near as contrivable to the object of their gloating admiration. All these amateurs have evidently called in to view the collection, which includes an example after 'Susanna and the Elders,' and kindred subjects.

_August 1, 1799._ _Horse Accomplishments._ Sketch 1. _A Paviour._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_August 1, 1799._ _Horse Accomplishments._ Sketch 2. _An Astronomer._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_August 1, 1799._ _Horse Accomplishments._ Sketch 3. _A Civilian._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_August 1, 1799._ _Horse Accomplishments._ Sketch 4. _A Devotee._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.--The rider is somewhat inconvenienced by the eccentricities of his steed. The horse is travelling in a somnolent condition, of which the equestrian seems unconscious, as he is thus soliloquising over the unusual proclivities of his _Rosinante_:--'This is certainly a very devout animal; always on his knees; five times in a mile; constantly worshipping something or other. What is he at now?'

_August 1, 1799._ _Waddling Out._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_August 10, 1799._ _Comforts of the City: A Good Speculation._ No. 5. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, August 10, 1799.--A stout citizen is rejoicing over a fortunate investment.

_August 10, 1799._ _Comforts of the City: A Bad Speculation._ No. 6. Woodward del., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann, August 10, 1799.--In this case the dabbler in novel ventures is looking very blank and disconcerted, on the receipt of the information that his very latest and most ingenious 'spec' does not promise to turn out favourably, according to a communication he holds in his hand:--'I am sorry to inform you that your scheme for manuring London with old wigs will not do.'

_August 12, 1799._ _Procession of a Country Corporation._ H. Bunbury del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published August 12, 1799, by T. Rowlandson, James's Street, Adelphi.--Bunbury's pencil was never more happily employed than when engaged in perpetuating the comicalities which he noticed in the country; rustic simplicity, the pretensions of inflated noodles, bumptious nobodies, and kindred absurdities, such as are displayed in 'The procession of a Country Corporation,' wherein the Aldermen and Mace-bearers, his worship the Mayor, with his chain, and his dignified deportment, and his following of puffed-up provincial big-wigs are shown filing in solemn state past the pump, the Town-hall, and the stocks, to the Church vestry; the country clodhoppers and honest children of the soil are gazing open-mouthed, over-awed by the impressive nature of the ceremony, and the solemn airs of the performers. Bathos is arrived at in a notice on the wall, past which these 'hogs in harness' are strutting--'Ordered by the Mayor and Corporation that no pigs be suffered to walk the streets. For every offence the penalty of five shillings!'

_August 1799._ _A Game of Put in a Country Ale House._ G. M. Woodward invt. Etched by T. Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann.

1799. _Bay of Biscay._ (See 1789.)

_September 3, 1799._ _Forget and Forgive, or Honest Jack shaking hands with an old acquaintance._ Published September 3, 1799, by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The troops forming the British Expedition which restored the Prince of Orange to his states are represented landing in the Texel, and delivering the Dutch from the hands of their friends the Sansculottes. Mynheer has become wretched and ragged under the French régime; he is shaking a British tar by the hand, heartily delighted to see a chance of recovering his freedom:--'Ah, Mynheer Bull, these cursed French rats have gnawed us to the backbone; they have barely left us a pipe, a drop of Hollands, or a red herring; oh, what a pretty pickle have we brought ourselves into!' 'Well, Mynheer,' responds Jack Tar, 'you seem heartily sick of fraternity: had you stuck to your old friends instead of embracing your ragged relations, you might have kept your gilders, saved your breeches, and preserved both states and stadtholder.' A Dutch vrow is trampling her foot upon an order of the French Convention:--'If any Dutch woman be detected in concealing any part of her husband's private property, she shall be guillotined.' She has secured a trifling comfort, a bottle of 'Hollands gin.' 'I have had great trouble, Mynheer, to smuggle this bottle for you, those French ragamuffins search me so close!' The troops forming the English contingent are landing from their ships, and driving the French legions before them at the point of the bayonet; the apostles of Liberty are losing their requisitions, 'Ducats and gilders for the use of the municipality;' they despair of converting their invaders: 'Here be dese English Bull dog, dey be such stupid brute dat we cannot make them comprehend the joys of Fraternisation!'

_September 20, 1799._ _The Irish Baronet and his Nurse._ ('Changed at his Birth.') Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson.

_October 1, 1799._ _The Gull and the Rook._ Published by Hixon, 155 Strand.

_October 1, 1799._ _The Crow and the Pigeon._ Published by Hixon, 155 Strand.

_October, 1799._ _Twopenny Whist._ Designed by G. M. Woodward. Etched by T. Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.

_October 28, 1799._ _A Note of Hand._ Designed by G. M. Woodward. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann.--From Bunbury to Woodward the change is easy. In all these renderings of the designs of less skilful amateurs it must be remembered that Rowlandson's part was not limited to that of a mere copyist of their ideas; he had to put crude conceptions into a presentable shape, and in most instances he has added points which originated in his own invention, and, as far as execution is concerned, he has made the works mainly his own.

In the present caricature there is actually no indication of Woodward's handiwork; a smart sailor of the period, returning to shore with prize money galore, and a watch, chain, and seals in either fob, neat silver shoe-buckles, and a spic-span rig-out, is calling to cash a twenty-pound note on a banker, who is negligently looking at the ceiling. The honest tar, who probably thinks the amount of the draft he has to draw a veritable fortune, is evincing his consideration for the man of finance--'I say, my tight little fellow, I've brought you a Tickler! A draught for twenty pounds, that's all! But don't be downhearted, you shan't stop on my account! I'll give you two days to consider of it.'

1799 (?). _Legerdemain._--The subject owes its invention to the observant humour of Henry Bunbury, the caricaturist of gentle birth, who was ever a friendly ally of Rowlandson; while the latter has lent his more trained skill to work out the conceptions of the flattered amateur, further regarded, according to the views of his contemporaries, as his distinguished patron. We are introduced in 'Legerdemain,' to the consulting room and operating surgery of certain rustic practitioners, who combine the twin professions of dentists and pedicures; teeth and corns being extracted promiscuously, as the requirements of their patients might necessitate. Strength, rather than skill, is the chief requisition, if we may trust the whimsicalities of 'Legerdemain,' where main force directs the operations of the performers. One sturdy tooth drawer is bringing his knee and all the brute power at his command to bear in the way of leverage on the refractory grinder of an unfortunate and distracted client; a hammer and a pair of coarse pincers do not argue well for the painless dentistry of the establishment. A squire, judging from the liveried servant in attendance, is submitting his foot to another professor, for the removal of an obstinate corn; the victim is thrown into paroxysms of agony by the forcible mode of procedure adopted: the rude chiropedist has seized the sufferer's foot securely under his arm, and is dragging away with such vigour that, if the corn will not be persuaded to come off decently, the toe will be dragged out by the roots--the latter a most undeniable method of permanent cure so far as corns are concerned.

_November 1, 1799._ _March to the Camp._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.

_November 1, 1799._ _Good Night._ Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A gentleman in the last stage of sleepiness with his nightcap on his head, and his chamber-candlestick flaring away--he is yawning like a cavern, and stretching his arms as if heavy with slumber. The expression is realistically conveyed.

_November 5, 1799._ _A Bankrupt Cart, or the Road to Ruin in the East._ Woodward del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The fortunate possessor of that dubious vehicle, 'a Bankrupt cart,' is proceeding in state past his own premises with his chin in the air; the showy wife of his bosom in feathers and finery is riding by his side, and their children are packed in sandwich fashion. A follower, who is probably a drayman, put into livery for the occasion, and mounted on one of the horses used in the business, is grinning at the high and mighty dignity assumed by his employers. A news boy is blowing his horn in the averted faces of the party, offering the _London Gazette_, which contains the objectionable black list of bankruptcies, wherein, it is hinted, the name of 'Mash, Brewer,' figures conspicuously. Puddle Dock is the scene of this exposure, and the brewery is posted with advertisements, which indicate the sudden downfall of fashionable ambition: 'A house to be let in Grosvenor Square, suitable for a genteel family,' and 'Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, _The Comedy of the Bankrupt_, with _High Life Below Stairs_.'

_November 5, 1799._ _A Dasher, or the Road to Ruin in the West._ G. M. Woodward del. Etched by T. Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann.

1799 (?). _Loose Thoughts._--A reclining female figure, lightly attired, and gracefully posed, buried in romantic creations of the imagination.

_The Bookbinder's Wife._--Somewhat similar to the taste of the preceding. The nude figure of a lady toying with her infant: these subjects, which are avowedly of a slightly suggestive character, are handled with a grace and refinement which goes a long way to redeem the free nature of the subjects.

1799 (?). _The Nursery._--A domestic subject; a gracefully posed female figure and two infants.

1799 (?). _A Freshwater Salute._--The occupants of two waterside crafts are exchanging courtesies on the river, a more frequent occurrence at the beginning of the century, when figures of speech, especially among 'waterside loafers,' were more forcible than refined. The boatmen in the respective wherries are bawling at one another, and a stout damsel is extending, in expressive pantomime, an invitation which has shocked the proprieties of the occupants of the other craft, a lady of _ton_ in a gay hat and feathers, and a very prim old gentleman, who is looking perfectly rigid with horror and indignation.

1799 (?). _Ride to Rumford._--'Let the gall'd jade wince.' A stout equestrienne has put up her steed at the shop of an apothecary, who combines the profession of veterinary surgeon: the venerable practitioner, with spectacles on nose, is preparing a diaculum plaister for the scarified horsewoman.

1799 (?). _City Fowlers--mark._ H. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sculp.

Against the wind he takes his prudent way,
Whilst the strong gale directs him to the prey;
Now the warm scent assures the covey near,
He treads with caution and he points with fear.--GAY.

1799 (?). _The City Hunt._ H. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sculp.--This scene of cockney horsemanship is suggestive of the learned lectures of Geoffrey Gambado, Esq., Riding Master to that authority on equestrianism, the Doge of Venice. It is a question which are the more extraordinary animals, the mounted citizens or their horses; all is grotesque and burlesque. Of course fat men are shown tumbling off and over their steeds; and with equal propriety, a brook is introduced, in which to deposit the unfortunate leapers. Various curs have come out to share the run, and among the most spirited riders may be distinguished a brace of black chimney-sweeps, fraternally perched astride the single donkey possessed by the firm.

1799 (?). _Une Bonne Bouche._--A stout gourmand impaling an entire sucking-pig on a fork.

1799 (?). _Cits airing themselves on Sunday._ H. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sculp.--A lady and gentleman are enjoying an equestrian promenade, too busily engaged in flirting to notice that their horses are riding over some wandering pigs. A Jew is in a chaise, taking his pleasure in the air; the fair Jewess, his wife, is driving, the rest of their family are by their side. A stout elderly volunteer in his uniform is out for exercise and relaxation, mounted on a heavy horse from the cart, ridden with blinkers.

1799 (?). _A Militia Meeting._--The original suggestion for this subject, which bears Rowlandson's name, is, with several other small etchings, belonging to the same series, due to Henry Bunbury; it represents a 'justice's parlour,' filled with local magnates, who are seated in council on the momentous militia question. The characteristics of the various personages are individualised with the sense of humour and that power of hitting off quaint expressions with which both Bunbury and Rowlandson were gifted in the highest degree.

1799 (?). _A Grinning Match._--The companion print to _A Militia Meeting_, executed under the same auspices. A party of rustics, whose rude features are more rudely burlesqued, are grouped around a barrel to assist at a competitive exhibition of 'face-making.' The challenge runs thus: 'A gold ring to be grinned for; the frightfullest grinner to be the winner.' Mounted on a tub is one of the champions, round his head is the traditional setting of a horse collar, and he is succeeding in making the most fearful grimaces, to the consequent delight of the spectators.

1799 (?). _Distress_, (18 inches by 12-5/8,) _from an Original Drawing by Thomas Rowlandson_.--Published by Thomas Palser, Surrey side, Westminster Bridge.--That Rowlandson possessed a remarkable power of grasping the humorous side of life was generally acknowledged in his own day, and is now well established, time having confirmed the justness of his title to a lasting reputation; indeed, his works in this order have long received a recognition which is more assured than has been accorded to those of his contemporaries. It may, however, be pointed out, with equal sincerity, that his conception of the terrible is even more remarkable than his facility for expressing the whimsical frivolities of society. It would be difficult to find a more realistic representation of the horrors of shipwreck than the appalling scene pictured under the title of 'Distress.' The fearful sufferings of the survivors, exposed without sustenance to the dangers of the deep, and the hopelessness of any chance of rescue, are all simply set forth with intense feeling, and a faithful perception of the horrors of the situation which is harrowing to examine, although it is evident that the terrors of the subject must have exercised a certain fascination over the mind of the delineator. It seems clear that portions of a crew have escaped the loss of their vessel only to become the powerless victims of more insupportable sufferings. A solitary officer and several of the crew are crowded into a boat, which they have no means of properly navigating. Provisions and water are evidently wanting; the horizon is a blank, the sea is still running high, and the sky threatens further tempests. Hunger, thirst, and exposure, are reducing the ocean waifs to madmen; while some are in paroxysms, others are stiffening corpses, and the body of one sufferer is about to be cast into the waters to lighten the freight; some are sunk in blank indifference or imbecile despair; others are furious, one or two are looking for help from above, and a few, among them the young officer and the boatswain, are doing their best to steer the open and over-laden boat towards a likely course. The cabin boy's distress is rendered with peculiar pathos.