Chapter III: Part 3

_Melpomene._ And pray, Mr. Monarch, how long am I to be confined
to this _box fever_, or nervous rheumatism in my loins? A pretty
business you have made of this season; what between your _Blind
Bargain_ and _Infant Roscius_, you think to send me to the ground;
but let me caution you, that 'if once I do but stir or lift this
arm, the best of you shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know how
this foul rout began, who set it on, and he that is approved in
the offence, though he hath twinned with me, _both at a birth_
shall lose me.'

_First Monarch._ [Probably intended to designate Sheridan.] Why
really, Madam, all I can say in my defence or that of my _Infant_
is this, that if John Bull chooses to feed on slink calf, instead
of substantial roast beef, _yet consents to pay for the roast_,
it is not for me to complain; but, Madam, should there be a fault
laid at my charge, let me tell you it is not entirely mine; your
brother here, beside me, has had _his share_ in it, and between
friends, I must observe, that you have had your day; and if a
good salary during this _Infant fever_ and frigid weather cannot
encourage you to wear flannel, gird up your loins, and rest
contented on your arm (I mean arms). I will be bound to say, you
are not the woman I took you for; and rather than _be subject_ to
such complaints while I _reign_ 'King of shreds and patches,' I
would forego the advantages of government, and 'live on scraps at
proud men's surly doors.'

_Second Monarch._ [John Philip Kemble, otherwise familiarly
designated _Black Jack_.] Sister, be of comfort, our friend speaks
home; you may relish him more in the soldier than the scholar, but
though his oratory is bad, his _argumentum argentum_ is good; his
voice like mine is husky; but his _silver_ tones are delightful.
It is true we have both had our day; 'our May of life is gone;
'tis fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf, and that which should
accompany old age' _we have got_. 'The world's a stage, and all
the men and women merely players.' Public taste is similar, it
is now in second childishness; and when mere oblivion takes
place, then you shall make a sally, and should the Town require a
_filip_,[4] I will be at your elbow.

_December 14, 1804._ _The Death of Madame République._--The moribund République is stretched on her death-bed, the tricolour cockade is worn on the side of her nightcap; by the side are bottles of _Purging Mixture_ and _Laudanum_. _Vive la Liberté_ and _Vive la République_ are put out of sight; the Abbé Sièyes, as doctor, is holding the new Emperor, an infant in long clothes, the crown is on his head, a sceptre and orb are in either hand. John Bull, spectacles on nose, and with his hand in his waistcoat pocket, has stepped in; he is much astonished at the change of affairs: 'Pray Mr. Abbé Sièyes, what was the cause of the poor Lady's death? She seemed at one time in a tolerable thriving way.' 'She died in childbed, Mr. Bull, after giving birth to this little Emperor!'

1804. _A New French Phantasmagoria._ (The date 1805 in one corner.)--Napoleon Buonaparte, with the Imperial crown, sceptre, orb, and robes of state, is holding out his hand, with impertinent condescension, crying, 'What! my old friend, Mr. Bull, don't you know me?' John Bull is dressed in sailor fashion, as the 'champion of the seas;' there is an air of satirical quizzing about his features, and, in order that he may be able to distinguish his transmogrified acquaintance, he has mounted a pair of huge magnifiers, 'Bless me, what comes here, it's time to put on my large spectacles, and tuck up my trousers! Why, surely, it can't be?--it is Boney too, for all that; why, what game be'est thee at now? Acting a play mayhap? What hast thee got on thy head there? Always at some new freak or other.'

1804. _A Compendious Treatise of Modern Education_, in which the following interesting subjects are liberally discussed: The Nursery, Private Schools, Public Schools, Universities, Gallantry, Duelling, Gaming, and Suicide; to which are added coloured designs, both characteristic and illustrative. By Joel M'Cringer, D.D., F.R.S., folio.

Letters from the hand of the caricaturist are scarce, and however familiar collectors may be with Rowlandson's touch, and even his caligraphy, on his numberless drawings in Indian ink, the productions of his famous reed-pen, it is very seldom that samples of his familiar correspondence are to be met with. We print one example, not as an instance of his brilliancy in composition, or as representing any valuable literary disclosure, but simply as illustrating that the artist's circumstances were not too flourishing at the period under consideration.

The original also contains a sketch, and is exhibited to the public in one of the cases of the British Museum (Manuscript Department), among a collection of interesting autographs of eminent men.

29,300 G. Ad^{1}. MSS. Purchased 6 June, 1871.

Letter to James Heath. Engraver.
Upper Charlotte Street Fitzroy Square.

This note is written in Indian ink, of the consistency mixed by
the Caricaturist for his outlines.

No. 1 James Street, Adelphi.
March 1st, 1804.

Friend Heath.

'Tis with sorrow I relate that my own finances and the little sway
I have with the long-pursed gentry--obliges me to retire before
the plays are ended. I hope you will not say, as they do at Drury
(No money returned after the curtain is drawn up).

The Bill sent in says Nine Numbers, Eight only have been received,
the Ninth mentioned in your letter as being delivered November the
First, since my return to Town, has, through some mistake, never
come to hand. I also possess a receipt from you for £2. 2. 0, and
as I hope you call me a tradesman and poor, you will make out a
fresh Bill, and that we shall verify the old proverb of Short
Reckonings make Long Friends.

I remain sincerely yours,

THO^S ROWLANDSON.

FOOTNOTE:

[4] 'My Lord Loggerhead spells physician with an F, hem! hem!'--Doctor Pangloss, _Heir at Law_.

1805.

_February 3, 1805._ _Quarterly Duns, or Clamorous Tax-gatherers._ Published by Howitt, 73 Wardour Street, Soho.--Taxation in 1805 raised a great deal of bad feeling; the satirists treated the increased imposts, and the methods of collecting them, from their point of view, and made the public smile at ills to which perforce they were compelled to submit. The house of a quack practitioner in 'Rotten Row,' one Dr. Humbug, at the sign of the Golden Pestle of Hippocrates, who advertises 'advice gratis' on his front door, is the scene of a general muster of the inquisitors and collectors of taxes. _Window Tax_, _Income_, _Property_, _House_, _Servants_, _Horses_, _Dogs_, _&c._, are among the requisitions to be levied. _The Budget opened, or how to raise the wind for the year 1805_ explains these visitations. The quack and his wife are declining to admit their duns; they are surveying the besieging party from an upper window, and the _goodwill_ of their house is, according to a placard, _to be disposed of_. The prospect of 'Houses to Let' and of windows 'Blocked up' shows that taxation was pressing with over-severity, and had, in reality, been carried beyond a joke.

_February 25, 1805._ _The Famous Coal Heaver, Black Charley, looking into the Mouth of the Wonderful Coal Pit._ Published by Ackermann. Described by an English Yeoman. (Here follows a long description turning on 'the fundamental deficiency.')--Fox, in blue and buff, on his hands and knees, is staring with a look of astonishment into the mouth of a large head of Pitt, beside which flourishes a Scotch thistle (for Dundas), and around is a thicket of _scrubs_, which are interlaced over a bench, with T.B. (Treasury Bench) cut on it.

_April 23, 1805._ _The Modern Hercules cleansing the Augean Stable._--'Augeas, a king of Elis, had a stable which was not cleansed for thirty years, yet Hercules cleansed it in one day.'--_Heathen Mythology._ The modern Hercules, wrapped round with his lion's skin, is making use of a monster measure, _Whitbread's Entire_, with the contents of which he is freely deluging the St. Stephen's stables. The abbot of St. Stephen's, with mitre and crozier, ensconced in his niche, is in consternation at the work going on. The horses are all standing with their heads turned to their stalls, and their hoofs to the purifier. Dundas (Lord Melville) is kicking with energy, crying 'What the Deel is the man aboot?' Wilberforce's 'Broom for the suppression of Vice' is between his legs, and before him is a huge private chest for stray provender, with money bags outside. Trotter stands next; he cries, 'Attack the Gallopers! I am only a poor Trotter.' Pitt, a very bony steed, is crying, 'I am afraid we shall all be drenched in turn;' and a crowd of others are thrown into confusion at their prospects, saying, 'Who could have expected this?' Against the wall are stalls stored with money-bags from end to end: 'Navy Stall,' 'Army Stall,' 'Treasury Stall,' &c.

_April 23, 1805._ _The Fifth Clause, or Effect of Example._ Published by T. Rowlandson.

_April 28, 1805._ _A Scotch Sarcophagus._ Published by T. Rowlandson, Adelphi.--The Sarcophagus is of handsome design; two cherubims, in Scotch bonnets, surmount the lid; two devils, evidently much shocked, appear on the sides. Two Highlanders, in full kilt and tartan dresses, are standing as mourners, one is leaning weeping with his elbow on the urn, the other is seeking comfort in his snuff mull.

_Stop, Traveller, and read._

Within this
Sarcophagus,
composed of Scotch pebbles,
are deposited the political remains of
JOHNNY MAC-CREE
and his faithful servant
JOHN TROTT.

In respect to the former, suffice it to say
that he was a strenuous friend to all Reports that
reverberated to his advantage, whether proceeding
from a first rate or a Catamaran Explosion.

At length a Tenth Report, aided by an obstruction
in the Thorax from the fifth clause, finished his
Political Career.

Mourn, Scotsmen, Mourn!
For though he was a swift galloper on the high
road of Peculation, yet his friend John, who
lies beside him, was only his inferior in being
but a simple Trotter, in the grand and
Sublime scale marked out by his
Worthy Preceptor.

They took their departure on Monday, April 8, 1805.

Peace to their Political Manes!

_May 15, 1805._ _John Bull's Turnpike Gate._--On a hill is an abbey church, lighted up with the glory of 'King, Church, and Constitution.' John Bull, standing before his turnpike, is guarding the pathway; on a ledge beside the post is placed a formidable work, the _Test Oath_. The Pope, with mitre, crozier, and hood, is mounted on his pontifical ass. 'Mr. Bull,' he says, 'I have been to Paris and seen all the fine sights there. I now want to have a peep at that little church on the hill, therefore let me pass the turnpike.' J. B. replies: 'If you want to go through pay the toll; what the devil do you think I keep a turnpike gate for?'

A crowd of dissenters, quakers, &c., in the Pope's rear, are anxious to enjoy the opportunity: 'Though I boast not gaudy trappings,' says a quaker, 'nor am I mounted on ass-back, yet if he goeth through, verily I should like to go through also!' 'Verily so should I!' 'We should all like to go through!'

_May 25, 1805._ _A Sailor's Will._ Woodward inv., Rowlandson sculp. Published by R. Ackermann.

_July 8, 1805._ _The Scotch Ostrich seeking Cover._--'In the natural history of the ostrich it has been observed that when the bird is closely pursued he runs his head and neck into a hole, leaving his hinder parts exposed; concluding no doubt that, as he sees no one, no one sees him!'

Dundas has thrust his head through a hole in the wall labelled _Parliamentary Recess_, he cries, 'Ah! ah! nae one sees me now!' John Bull with his blunderbuss, and his brother Pat by his side, are watching the Scotchman's manoeuvre. 'Be asy, brother Pat, I see him as plain as ever. I have plenty of ammunition left, but I shan't fire just at present.' This print is founded on the inquiries into Lord Melville's conduct when Treasurer of the Navy.

_July 14, 1805._ _Recovery of a Dormant Title, or a Breeches-Maker become a Lord._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi. Republished July 14, 1812.--The features of a sudden rise in life form humorous materials in the hands of the caricaturist. The lately created nobleman, a coarse and common clothier, is swaggering in all his new finery, to give his past associates a taste of his new-found honours. His showy court dress is assumed with awkward pretension; he wears a ribbon and star and a dress sword; none of these decorations harmonise with the wearer, who is so evidently out of place in his fine feathers, that the journeymen tailors and cobblers, his neighbours and recent comrades, are jeering at his burlesque dignity; his lady dressed in unbecoming finery, and carrying a large plume of feathers on her head, looks no less 'out of character' than does her tailoring spouse. The shop, over which appears, _Stitchall, Whitechapel, Breeches cleaned and repaired_, once the pride of the pair, is now closed. A placard states: 'The goodwill of this shop to be sold, removed to Grosvenor Square;' while an old Jewess, part of the establishment, probably the ancestress of one of the pair, is trying her hardest, on the top of some steps, to wipe out the offensive name of the ex-proprietor.

_July 14, 1805._ _Antiquarians à la Grecque._ Published by R. Ackermann.

_October 1, 1805._ _The Departure from the Coast, or the end of the Farce of Invasion._ Published by Ackermann.--On the heights of the English coast stands the British Lion, contemptuously pouring a broadside into the retreating invader; the British cruisers are sweeping the seas. The Emperor, seated on a donkey, is limping off, to the delight of some French monkeys. The national prototype's contributions, in the shape of a shower of shot, have capsized the iron crown of Milan. 'Bless me, what a shower! I shall be wet through before I reach the Rhine.' The Emperor and his steed are overloaded with sacks of _Excuses for non-performance_. _The Boulogne Encampment_ and _The Army of England_ fill his pockets, while files of soldiers are indicated above.

_October 2, 1805._ _John Bull at the Opera._ Published by T. Rowlandson.--It is a matter of no surprise to find Rowlandson, who, in spite of his acquaintance with the Continent, was as thoroughly confirmed a John Bull as his illustrious predecessor Hogarth, ridiculing the tastes of the fashionable public, who patronised and petted exotic artists, to the neglect of native talent. Like the rest of the caricaturists, he traded on the national spirit, and held up foreigners to contempt and ridicule; with a happy faculty for seizing their grotesque points, their loose ways of life, and their love of finery and display, which has not, we will venture to believe, been excelled in any day. It is natural the school-fellow, fellow-student at the Academy, and familiar intimate through life, of such a talented English performer as Bannister, should have resented the artificial taste which heaped wealth on comparatively obscure aliens, with whose art plain John Bull could have slight sympathy, while the most rarely gifted of his countrymen were left to struggle through life without a due acknowledgment, in a pecuniary sense, proportioned to the extent of their merits, as contrasted with the abilities of their foreign rivals, and the fabulous salaries they received. The designer has accordingly displayed the signor from a whimsical point of view; the face of the performer is suggestive of that of the good-looking youth, the leading figure in the eccentric humours of an _Italian Family_ (1792); it was probably a portrait recognisable at the period. Certainly John Bull, in the artist's view, does not appear much at home at the Italian Opera; the spectators are divided between gigglers and gapers, and on the whole it is doubtful if their imported entertainer affords his audience the unequivocal enjoyment they would have been able to secure at the hands of 'honest Jack Bannister,' and native performers of his stamp.

_October 30, 1805._ _Raising the Wind._

_November 13, 1805._ _Napoleon Buonaparte in a Fever, on Receiving the extraordinary Gazette of Nelson's Victory over the Combined Fleets._ Published by Ackermann.--The Emperor, in his huge cocked hat, is seriously indisposed, after reading the extraordinary gazette: '19 sail of the line taken by Lord Nelson.' Beside the Corsican is a group of court physicians in consternation: 'My dear Doctors! those sacré Anglois have played the devil with my constitution; pray tell me what is the matter with me. I felt the first symptoms when I told General Mack I wanted ships, colonies, and commerce. Oh dear! oh dear! I shall want more ships now; this is a cursed sensation. Oh, I am very qualmish!' 'Be-gar,' cries the first physician, 'I have found it out. Your heart be in your breeches!' Another doctor is observing that 'the case is desperate;' another recommends 'letting blood;' while others have, after a consultation, arrived at the conclusion--'Irrevocable.'

1805. _A Boarding School._--The droll scene our artist has imagined,--for it is to be hoped, in the interests of educational establishments and social decorum, that he was not in the situation to draw the incidents from actual observation,--is transpiring on the outside of a Young Ladies' Seminary, where maidens are 'boarded and educated,' and their minds trained. According to the notice-board, there seems no reason to question this being a 'finishing school' in the fullest acceptation of the expression. 'The young ideas' are shooting in a precocious fashion which is setting the restraint of the governesses at defiance. Certain well-favoured young house painters are inciting the mischievous hoydens to disregard the injunctions of their preceptresses. A daring scamp is stealing a kiss from a buxom belle, over the eaves of the adjoining house, and three terrible young flirts are exchanging pleasantries with a youth on a ladder, who is stopping the torrent of menace, poured forth by the mistress, by bedaubing his whitewash brush in the learned features of the infuriated old lady. It is evidently early morning, before the customary studies have commenced.

1805. _Glowworms._ (See July, 1812.)

1805. _Muckworms._

1805. Illustrations to _Tom Jones, or the History of a Foundling_. Book 7, chap. 14.--'The clock had now struck twelve, and every one in the house were in their beds, except the sentinel who stood to guard Northerton, when Jones softly opening his door, issued forth in pursuit of his enemy, of whose place of confinement he had received a perfect description from the drawer. It is not easy to conceive a much more tremendous figure than he now exhibited. He had on, as we have said, a light coloured coat, covered with streams of blood. His face, which missed that very blood, as well as twenty ounces more drawn from him by the surgeon, was pallid. Round his head was a quantity of bandages, not unlike a turban. In the right hand he carried a sword, and in the left a candle. So that the bloody Banquo was not worthy to be compared to him. In fact, I believe a more dreadful apparition was never raised in a churchyard, nor in the imagination of any good people met in a winter evening over a Christmas fire in Somersetshire.

'When the sentinel first saw our hero approach, his hair began gently to lift up his grenadier cap, and in the same instant his knees fell to blows with each other. Presently his whole body was seized with worse than an ague fit. He then fired his piece, and fell flat on his face.

'Whether fear or courage was the occasion of his firing, or whether he took aim at the object of his terror, I cannot say. If he did, however, he had the good fortune to miss his man.

'Jones seeing the fellow fall, guessed the cause of his fright, at which he could not forbear smiling, not in the least reflecting on the danger from which he had just escaped. He then passed by the fellow, who still continued in the posture in which he fell.... The report of the firelock alarmed the whole house....

'Before Jones could reach the door of his chamber, the hall where the sentinel had been posted was half full of people, some in their shirts, and others not half dressed, all very earnestly inquiring of each other what was the matter.

'The soldier was now found lying in the same place and posture in which we just now left him. Several immediately applied themselves to raise him, and some concluded him dead; but they presently saw their mistake, for he not only struggled with those who laid their hands on him, but fell a roaring like a bull. In reality he imagined so many spirits or devils were handling him; for his imagination, being possessed with the horror of an apparition, converted every object he saw or felt into nothing but ghosts and spectres.

'At length he was overpowered by numbers, and got upon his legs; when candles being brought, and seeing two or three of his comrades present, he came a little to himself; but when they asked him what was the matter, he answered, "I am a dead man, that's all; I am a dead man; I can't recover it; I have seen him."'

'"What hast thou seen, Jack?" says one of the soldiers. "Why, I have seen the young volunteer that was killed yesterday."'

Illustrations to Fielding's _Tom Jones_ (See 1791). 1791-93. Published by J. Siebbald, Edinburgh. 1805. Republished by Longman & Co., London.

Illustrations to Smollett's _Peregrine Pickle_. 1791-93. Published by J. Siebbald, Edinburgh. 1805. Republished by Longman & Co., London. Etched by Rowlandson.

_Clearing a Wreck on the North Coast of Cornwall._ Sketched in 1805. Rowlandson del.

_View on Sir John Moreshead's Estate at Blisland near Bodmin, Cornwall._ Rowlandson del.

_View near Bridport, Dorsetshire._ 1805.

_Rouler Moor, Cornwall._

_Coast of Cornwall_, &c. (A series of views in Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, &c.)

1806.

'_The Sorrows of Werther._' _Letter X._ _The Waltz with Charlotte._--'We began; and at first amused ourselves with making every possible turn with our arms. How graceful and animated all her motions! When the waltz commenced, all the couples which were turning round at first jostled against each other. We very judiciously kept aloof till the awkward and clumsy had withdrawn; when we joined in there were but two couples left. I never in my life was so active; I was more than mortal. To fly with her like the wind, and lose sight of every other object! But I own to you I then determined, that the woman I loved, and to whom I had pretensions, should never do the waltz with any other man. You will understand this.'

_April 3, 1806._ _An Evergreen._--An extravagantly elongated figure, treated so as to suggest a trimmed shrub, and coloured green. There is much in the execution of this folio strip to suggest the hand of Rowlandson. Published by Fores.

_April 20, 1806._ _A Cake in Danger._

Careful observers, studious of the Town,
Shun the misfortunes that disgrace the clown.--GAY'S _Trivia_.

It is night, or rather early morning, and the watchman, staff in hand, leaning forward in his box, in a state of semi-consciousness, more asleep than awake, does not observe that under the shelter of his house a deed of spoliation is proceeding. A simple countryman has fallen into the clutches of two fair members of the 'Hundreds of Drury,' and, while they are tenderly embracing the yokel, the contents of his pockets are being transferred to their own keeping.

1806 (?). _A Select Vestry._

1806 (?). _A Country Club._

_April 16, 1806._ _The Political Hydra._ (Wigstead.) Originally published December 26, 1788. See description (1788). Reissued with fresh date.

_April 18, 1806._ _Falstaff and his Followers Vindicating the Property Tax._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi. Fox is travestied under the portly figure of Falstaff; Sheridan, Petty, and other Ministers do duty as his followers. The unwieldy knight is standing in the presence of John Bull, and pointing to a huge pack, 'Ten per cent, on John Bull's property,' which is to be fitted to the national back. 'Mercy on us, how you must be all changed in your way of thinking! When Billy proposed the same thing, one of you said it was a most flagrant instance of injustice and inequality; another that it was abominable in principle and in its operation, not only cruel but intolerable; and another went so far as to say that if I sanctioned it I was not a person for any honest man to be acquainted with. What have you to say for yourselves?'

Falstaff has a plausible explanation at the service of his employer: 'You cannot blame us, Master Bull, we did not make it, or steal it; it lay in our way, and we found it!'

_May 1, 1806._ _A Maiden Aunt smelling Fire._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.

Old Maids are doomed to lead Apes in Hell.

An old Tabitha, who is appropriately surrounded by her feline friends, has been disturbed from her slumbers by various suspicious nocturnal sounds, and has appeared, candle in hand, and in a very incomplete toilette, to fathom the mystery, of the source of which she has evidently some shrewd suspicion; since she is hastening to the first floor to her niece's apartment. Above the balustrade stands the guilty damsel, who has had sufficient warning, as her lover, carrying his garments in his hand, for expedition, is making his way from the niece's room under the cover of an ambuscade; while the lady is leaning over the staircase railings, with an air of startled innocence assumed to carry off the _contretemps_.

_May, 1806_. _Recruiting on a Broad-Bottom'd Principle._ Published by T. Blacklock, 92 Royal Exchange.--Grenville, Fox, and their colleagues, are out on a recruiting expedition, to enlist volunteers for their new service. Lord Grenville, as the recruiting sergeant, is haranguing the bystanders; his followers are rather of the tatterdemalion order: they wear the red caps of Liberty, and the revolutionary cockades, they are out-at-elbows and shoeless. Sheridan is waving the colours inscribed 'God save the King! No Jacobins!' Fox is drummer, Lord Derby is fifer; 'Now my brave fellows, now is the time to make your fortunes and show your loyalty, all on a Broad-Bottom'd principle: we don't value _candle-ends_ and _cheese-parings_, not we! All lives, and fortune-soldiers to a man. We'll make our enemies tremble; we are the boys to _wind_ 'em; now is your time, my lads; the bed of Honour is a bed of Down.' A dog, the _Member for Barkshire_ according to his collar, is bow-wowing the sergeant's address; one of the audience, with a paper, _Bed of Roses_ (to which the ministerial condition had been likened by Lord Castlereagh), in his pocket, is half decided to join their standard: 'I don't like a bed of Down, I would rather it was a _Bed of Roses_: however I have a great mind to enter notwithstanding, there is nothing like having two strings to one's bow.'

George the Third is peeping through his spyglass; he is not very clear as to the actual motives of the party: 'What, what! my sergeant and drummer beating up for volunteers; that's right, that's right, get as many as you can!'

_May 4, 1806._ _Daniel Lambert, the wonderful great Pumpkin of Little Britain._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The famous Leicester giant, or rather fat man, Daniel Lambert, was the object of fashionable curiosity at this date. The worthy and good-natured-looking monster's figure is set forth at full, and justice is done to his corpulence. A tailor and his journeyman are between them vainly trying to stretch their measuring tape round the colossal girth; a fairly conditioned man-cook has just brought in a noble rib of beef for the regalement of the giant. Three modishly dressed persons of quality, who have come to admire the huge proportions of Daniel Lambert, are contrasting their own meagre condition of genteel slimness with his excessive plumpness. A notice sets forth, 'Agricultural society for the improvement of fat cattle. Leicestershire Ram'; and a placard advertises, 'The powers of Roast Beef, or the Leicestershire Apollo, now in full bloom; no blemish whatever on any part of his body. Thirty-six years of age. Weighs upwards of 50 stone, 14 lbs. to the stone, or 700 lbs. Measures 3 yds. 4 inches round the body, and 1 yard 1 inch round the leg; is five feet eleven inches in height. Admission only one shilling. Laugh and grow fat.'[5]

_May 31, 1806._ _A Diving Machine on a New Construction._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--The unpopular increase of Taxation, levied under the Broad-bottom'd auspices, was severely dealt with by the satirists. In the present version, the Ministers are represented as the crew of a diving-barge, _The Experiment_. Fox is the diver, and a noble wreck, the 'Constitution cutter, John Bull commander,' has gone down to the bottom of the 'Ocean of Taxation.' Her commander is done for; amidst the spoils of the shipwreck, the Diver (Fox) is securing certain weighty additions to his treasury: pig-iron, Beer Tax, and heavy chests, '10 per cent.' are among the spoils. A rope is secured to the ponderous Property Tax; Fox is giving the word to 'Haul up;' Petty, Sheridan and others are hauling away at the ropes; their lighter is nearly filled with the precious wreckage they have been able to secure.

_June 20, 1806._ _The Acquittal, or upsetting the Porter Pot._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--Lord Melville and his counsel are exulting over the results of his acquittal by his peers of the charge of investing the public funds for his personal advantage, as far as the interest was concerned, a perquisite previously allowed to the Treasurer of the Navy. When Lord Melville, then Henry Dundas, filled the post of Treasurer to the Navy, he brought in an act for the better regulation of that office, making such employment of the funds in hand a misdemeanour; Whitbread, (at the head of the advanced Liberals, or 'Radical Reformers,' who began to make his party dreaded as formidable opponents of the old-fashioned Whig section, from which his supporters had receded), and Wilberforce, as the enemy of all corruptions, were the principal movers of Melville's impeachment, for the alleged breach of his own act.

The two Scots, Melville and Trotter, who are dressed in Highland garb, are embracing fraternally; at the same time, Melville is giving a sly backward kick to a huge pewter pot, bearing the face of the disconcerted mover of the charges. _Whitbread's Entire Butt_ is knocked over, its contents _Impeachments_, _High Crimes_, _Misdemeanours_, and _Peculation_, are flowing away unheeded; 'What is life without a friend?' cries the ex-Minister on his acquittal; his counsel, Trotter, is assuring his relieved patron, 'I'll _trot_ for you! I'll gallop for you all over the globe. O happy day for Scotland! and see how pleased John Bull looks--ah Johnny, Johnny, this is indeed a glorious triumph.' But Mr. Bull declines to be soft-sawdered: his face is wearing anything but a satisfied expression; he significantly keeps his hands in his pockets, and is grumbling, 'I say nothing,' as if he could say a great deal if he were disposed to express his honest opinion of the entire transaction.

_July 21, 1806._ _Experiments at Dover, or Master Charleys Magic Lantern._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--The repeated delays to the preliminaries for peace, and the various manoeuvres of Buonaparte's government, which protracted the issue of Fox's policy, led to a feeling out-of-doors that the Minister was not dealing straightforwardly with the public; that dissimulation was thrown into their eyes like dust; and that the Whig chief was deluding his followers for some reasons of his own; meanwhile the Corsican Emperor was carrying forward plans for fresh aggressions unchecked.

Fox, in the print, has settled himself comfortably at Dover; with a magic lantern to work his delusions, he is throwing painted images across the Channel, which are reflected on the cliffs of Calais. The figure of Napoleon is seen sounding a news-horn, announcing 'Preliminaries of Peace'; Fox's slide contains other views, which have to follow, for the further perplexity of the honest spectator: 'More despatches,' 'Messenger to Paris,' 'Messenger from Boulogne,' &c. The Showman is trying to reassure his friend, 'There, Master Bull, what do you think of that? I told you I would surprise you--"Preliminaries of Peace," 'Huzza!' John Bull, who is standing unconvinced behind Fox's chair, replies: 'Yes, yes, it be all very foine, if it be true. But I can't forget that d----d Omnium last week; they be always one way or other in contradictions! I will tell thee what, Charley, since thee hast become a great man, I think in my heart thee beest always conjuring.'

_June, 1806._ _Butterfly Hunting._ Published by Wm. Holland, 11 Cockspur Street.--A collision between the pursuits of rival enthusiasts is pictured under the title of 'Butterfly Hunting.' Nothing can stop the fervour of the butterfly collectors in their chase of the sportive prey, wantonly flitting all over the flower-beds, and leading the excited entomologists a pretty dance, carrying destruction to the parterres, and ruination to the tulips, of which the proprietor of the house and grounds is, it appears, a passionate fancier. The havoc, which is spreading over the beds of his favourites, is reducing him to frenzy; as he is awakened from his rest, and surveys from his bedroom-window the field of action, the only wonder is, if he has a loaded gun ready at hand, that he is not tempted to salute the reckless spoilers with a volley.

1806. _A Prize Fight._

1806 (?). _Anything will do for an Officer._--The caricature of a pigmy and misshapen sample of humanity, dressed as an officer, with an enormous cocked hat, worn on one side of his battered and lined old face; a long pigtail projects over his high shoulders; he swaggers with one hand on his hip, and the other on the head of a tasseled cane, which is nearly as tall as the hero himself; his shrunken spindle legs are thrust into huge boots, and his tremendous sword, which is longer than the wearer, is trailing on the ground. The argument is not complimentary to commanders in general: 'Some school-boys, who were playing at soldiers, found one of their number so ill-made and so undersized that he would have disfigured the whole body if put into the ranks. "What shall we do with him?" asked one, "Do with him?" says another, "why make an officer of him!"'

1806. _View of the Interior of Simon Ward, alias St. Brewer's Church, Cornwall._--A quaint delineation of a church-interior during service; the pastor, who is somewhat of the Dr. Syntax type, is holding forth. There is a squire's pew, a rosy, sleepy clerk, a large leavening of fat slumberers (among the rest the sexton and pew-opener), a crowded gallery, worshippers both devout and careless, gazers through curiosity, and the usual elements which made up a grotesque-looking country congregation at the end of the last century.

1806. _A Monkey Merchant._

FOOTNOTE:

[5] The advice offered in the concluding line of Daniel Lambert's advertisement must, however, be followed with certain reserve. The Leicester giant's premature end is hardly an encouragement to would-be imitators. After his first visit to London, in 1806, Daniel Lambert returned to his native place; the year following he repeated his visit, but feeling oppressed by the atmosphere of the metropolis, he made a tour through the principal provincial cities and towns, where he proved a great source of attraction. We are told 'his diet was plain, and the quantity moderate, and for many years he never drank anything stronger than water. His countenance was manly and intelligent; he possessed great information, much ready politeness, and conversed with ease and facility. He had a powerful and melodious tenor voice, and his articulation was perfectly clear and unembarrassed.... Lambert had, however, for some time shown dropsical symptoms. In June, 1809, he was weighed at Huntingdon, and, by the Caledonian balance, was found to be 52 stone 11 lb.; 10 stone 4 lb. heavier than Bright, the miller of Maiden, who only lived to the age of thirty.'

A few days after this last weight was taken, on June 20, Lambert arrived from Huntingdon at the Wagon and Horses Inn, St. Martin's, Stamford, where preparations were made to receive company the next day and during the Stamford races. He was announced for exhibition; he gave his orders cheerfully, without any presentiment that they were to be his last. He was then in bed, only fatigued from his journey, but anxious to see company early in the morning. Before nine o'clock, however, the day following, he was a corpse! He died in his apartment on the ground-floor of the inn, for he had long been incapable of walking up stairs. As may be supposed from his immense bulk and weight, his interment was an arduous labour. His age was thirty-nine. At the Wagon and Horses Inn were preserved two suits of Lambert's clothes; seven ordinary-sized men were repeatedly enclosed within his waistcoat, without breaking a stitch or straining a button.

1807.

_February 1, 1807._ _Miseries of London. Going out to dinner (already too late) your carriage delayed by a jam of coaches, which choke up the whole street, and allow you an hour or more than you require to sharpen your wits for table talk._ Published by Ackermann, 101 Strand.

Breast against breast, with ruinous assault
And deafening shock they come.

_February 3, 1807._ _The Captain's Account-current of Charge and Discharge._ Published by Giles Grinagain, 7 Artillery Street, London.--A pair of plates connected with some militia or yeomanry satire of the period: the scene of the captain's misadventure is evidently a cathedral town, but the interest of the print is not sufficiently strong to make any elucidation of the facts of the case of much importance. The captain is mounted on a spirited charger; he is losing his seat; several whips and his sabre have fallen, and the rider is holding on precariously by his horse's mane. Professor Gambado's famous tract, _Hints to Bad Horsemen_, is thrown on the ground. The members of the troop, galloping in the rear, are enjoying their leader's mishap, and saying, 'Our young whip is not an old jockey.' The captain cries, 'March! trot! canter! charge! halt, halt, halt! I mean;' while candid confessions burst forth spontaneously from the trumpet at his side. 'Avarice, vanity! oh what a ninny I was to throw myself off! they're laughing at me!' while hypocrisy, ingratitude, double-dealing, false friendship, malice, &c., are trumpeted forth.

In the second plate the rider has come to grief; the horse is prancing gaily, relieved of his rider; the animal is addressing a parting remark to the discharged captain: 'You seem more frightened than hurt. You have been taught the value of whips more than the use of them.'

A hussar has recovered the trumpet; he stoops over to the fallen captain, who is rubbing the seat of his injuries: 'I hope your honour is not hurt,' to which the fallen leader replies, 'I am not hurt, upon my honour!' The troopers are riding gaily on, exclaiming, 'Why, our captain needn't a fallen!'

_February 15, 1807._ _Miseries of Travelling; an Overloaded Coach._ Published by R. Ackermann.

_February 18, 1807._ _At Home and Abroad._--A domestic interior; the servant is leaving the room with a warming-pan, and a lady, of the developed 'fat, fair, and forty' order, is preparing to go to bed; the partner of her joys, who is more youthful, has dropped his pipe and is sipping a bumper of wine; but, although evidently sleepy, he seems disinclined to follow the lady's example of retiring to rest.

_February 18, 1807._ _Abroad and at Home_ is a complete contrast to the previous subject.--A handsome-looking man is reclining on a couch before the fire; on the table by his side are fruit and wine, on his knee there dallies an elegant creature; the lady's maid is figured in the background, regaling herself with drops on the sly.

_February 26, 1807._ _Mrs. Showwell, the Woman who shows General Guise's Collection of Pictures at Oxford._ Etched and published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--This, like the companion print, bears the initials J. N. Esq. (John Nixon), 1807, but the style of execution is in Rowlandson's marked manner. Mrs. Showwell is a dwarfed, quaint old woman, of good-natured appearance, wearing a cap and hood; she is pointing out the excellences of a collection of old masters with a wand, and in her other hand is held the key of the gallery.[6]

_March 1, 1807._ _The Enraged Vicar._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--

To see them rattle, howl, and tear,
By Jove, 'twould make a parson swear,

A subject of wanton destruction, which forms a fitting companion to the invasion of the tulip-fancier's flower-beds by irrepressible butterfly-collectors, was published the year following, as _The Enraged Vicar_. In this case the horticultural tastes of the reverend gentleman have led him to turn the grounds of the vicarage into a picture of the most unvarying precision: clipped hedges, chopped borders of box, with yew-trees and evergreens, carved into wonderful imitations of impossible objects, form the passion of his heart. A hunted fox is darting through these wonderful works of art; the hounds are breaking over everything, and the whole field of fox-hunters are riding through the Vicar's boundaries, and pounding their horses over his cherished monstrosities. Judging from the frantic state of the dignitary, the reverse of benedictions seem likely to be invoked upon the heads of the intruders, who are wrecking the results of any amount of misdirected patience 'in less than no time.'

_April 18, 1807._ _All the Talents._ Published by Stockdale, Pall Mall.

Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum.

The complex nature of the famous Broad-Bottom Administration, known as 'All the Talents,' is set forth in an allegorical representation, which is supposed to include the several qualifications of the vaunted _illuminés_. It may be remembered that this Ministry, which came into power under Liberal and popular auspices, retired on the rejection of their favourite measure, Catholic Emancipation, which they were pledged to introduce. The King, and his friends, the remnant of the Pittites, made a desperate stand against this measure, and the consequence of its defeat was the immediate withdrawal of 'All the Talents' from office. As embodied by Rowlandson's pencil, the combination of heterogeneous elements produced a curious monster: the wig of a learned judge is worn on the head of a spectacled ape, with an episcopal mitre and a Catholic crosier; a lawyer's bands, a laced coat, and ragged breeches; wearing one shoe, and a French jackboot; and dancing upon a funeral pyre of papers, the results of the Administration, its endless negotiations with France, and its sinecures and patronages, which are blazing away. The creature's right foot is discharging a musket, to represent the 'Army,' which is producing certain mischief in the rear, and bringing two heavy folios, _Magna Charta_ and the _Coronation Oath_ upon the head of the dangerous animal. The left hand, holding a pen upside-down, is supposed to be compounding new financial projects, in a ledger laid over a music book, 'Country dances,' an allusion to the alleged dancing proclivities of Lord Henry Petty, the Broad-Bottomite Chancellor of the Exchequer.

The smoke, from the pipe of this _lusus Naturæ_, is obscuring the portrait of William Pitt. The end of 'All the Talents,' who sacrificed their influence from conscientious motives, and whose upright principles were beyond suspicion, was a great source of triumph to their opponents, who signalised their retirement with a volley of satirical effusions. The 'Interment of the Broad-Bottomite Ministry' produced a shower of political squibs and caricatures; and among the best verses on the occasion, appeared the following mocking epitaph, which has been attributed to the gifted pen of Canning, who came into office on the dismissal of 'All the Talents.'

When the Broad-Bottomed junto, all nonsense and strife,
Resigned, with a groan, its political life;
When converted to Rome, and of honesty tired,
It to Satan gave back what himself had inspired;

The Demon of Faction, that over them hung,
In accents of anguish their epitaph sung;
While Pride and Venality joined in the stave,
And canting Democracy wept on the grave.

Here lies, in the tomb that we hollowed for Pitt,
The conscience of Grenville, of Temple the wit;
Of Sidmouth the firmness, the temper of Grey,
And Treasurer Sheridan's promise to pay.

Here Petty's finance, from the evils to come,
With Fitzpatrick's sobriety creeps to the tomb;
And Chancellor Ego, now left in the lurch,
Neither laughs at the law nor cuts jokes at the Church.

Then huzza for the party that here's laid to rest--
'All the Talents,' but self-praising blockheads at best:
Though they sleep in oblivion, they've died with the hope,
At the last day of freedom, to rise with the Pope.

_April 24, 1807._ _A Nincompoop, or Hen-peck'd Husband._ Published by T. Tegg, Cheapside (147).--It is supposed to be the day of rest and ease, and comfortable cits are taking their summer outings to suburban resorts. A buxom city wife is sailing along with an air like a tragedy queen, fanning herself as she walks. Her better half, a miserable being reduced to abject servitude, is bearing a bundle, a shawl, a pair of pattens, and an umbrella, objects to serve in the train of his mistress's grandeur; the poor 'nincompoop' is vainly turning his eyes up Heavenwards: no miracle is vouchsafed to free him from his bondage. Other stout promenaders are bursting with indignation at the weakness of this lord of creation, while they walk in the other extreme, and leave their better halves to drag along both children and baggage in their wake. Certain tired pedestrians are enjoying the reward of their exertions, while partaking of cool pipes and tankards, at the '_Old Swan Inn, Ordinary on Sundays_,' whither the parties have evidently proceeded to dine.

_April 26, 1807._ _John Rosedale, Mariner._ _Exhibitor at the Hall of Greenwich Hospital._ Etched and published by T. Rowlandson.--Like the companion print, _Mrs. Showwell_ (Feb. 26), the sketch is signed with the initials J. N. Esq. The old sailor Cicerone, who has a pigtail, and wears a long square-cut coat of naval blue, with gold buttons and lace, is pointing out with a cane the mysteries of certain allegorical compositions to the gaping spectators:--

'Here is George, Prince of Denmark, and in the perspective a view of St. Paul's, London, Sir James Thornhill in the wig, &c. &c.'

_May 1, 1807._ _The Pilgrims and the Peas._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sc. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside. One of a series of headings to songs, ballads, &c., published by T. Tegg.--In the illustration to Peter Pindar's Apologue of _The Pilgrims and the Peas_, the disconsolate sinner, with hard peas in his shoes, is crawling along, doubled up with agony, to the shrine at Loretto, meeting halfway the joyful pilgrim, who has accomplished his penance, 'whitewashed his soul,' and returned from his journey without personal inconvenience, by the exercise of the simplest precaution, as he confesses:--

To walk a little more at ease,
I took the liberty to boil my peas!

_May 3, 1807._ _Scenes at Brighton, or the Miseries of Human Life._ Published by A. Berigo, 38 Maiden Lane, Covent Garden.

_Plate 1._ Beauty, Music, a few thousands, and opportunity given by card tables, often feather the adventurer and prove an easy introduction to the Miseries of Human Life.

_Plate 2._ Jealousy, rage, disappointment, intrigue, and laughter are here pretty much exemplified, and afford an old Lover a high-seasoned taste of the Miseries of Human Life.

_May 6, 1807._ _Monastic Fare._

And why I'm so plump, the reason I'll tell,
Who leads a good life is sure to live well,
What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?

_May 6, 1807._ _Black, Brown, and Fair._ Designed by Sir E. Bunbury. Rowlandson sculp. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--An illustration to the lines:--

With Black, Brown, and Fair, I have frolic'd 'tis true,
But I never lov'd any, dear Mary, but you.

At the window of a tavern, at Wapping 'Dock Head,' is a bevy of beauties, representing the variations of complexion described by the song-writer. The redundant charms of this collection of beauties are arresting an equally diversified circle of admirers, numbering mulattos, a Chinaman, a Holland skipper, a foreign Jew, and a Virginia nigger.

_May 6, 1807._ _The Holy Friar._ Designed by Sir E. Bunbury. Rowlandson, sculp.

I am a Friar of orders Grey,
And down the valleys I take my way.
I pull not Blackberry, Haw, or Hip;
Good store of ven'son does fill my scrip.
My long Bead-roll I merrily chaunt,
Wherever I walk no money I want;
And why I'm so plump, the reason I'll tell,
Who leads a good life is sure to live well;
What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?

After supper of Heav'n I dream,
But that is fat pullets and clouted cream;
Myself by denial I mortify,
With a dainty bit of a Warden pie.
I'm cloth'd in sackcloth for my sin,
With old Sack wine I'm lin'd within,
A chirping cup is my Matin song,
And the vesper's bell is my bowl--ding dong!
What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?

_May 16, 1807._ _I Smell a Rat, or a Rogue in Grain._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand. An exuberant rustic charmer has been entertaining a fashionable visitor in a granary; a party of rustics, mounting the ladder, have disturbed the interview. A powdered, pig-tailed, and lace-ruffled dandy has sought concealment amidst the sacks of grain; his head appears over the barrier in sheer dismay, for a determined farm help, probably the legitimate swain of the indignant damsel, armed with a formidable pitchfork, is making reckless efforts to impale the trespasser; his fury is slightly restrained by the stalwart exertions of the lady, who has buried her fingers in the village Othello's shock head of hair; at his feet is a scroll with the quotation 'I smell a rat, dead for a ducat.' A bill, pinned on the wall, sets forth 'Rats, pole cats, and all sorts of vermin effectively destroyed.'

_May 17, 1807._ _The Old Man of the Sea, sticking to the Shoulders of Sindbad the Sailor._ Vide _The Arabian Nights Entertainments_. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--The dandified Sir Francis Burdett is figured as a discontented Sindbad the Sailor; his preceptor John Horne Tooke, in his clerical garments, is perched on his pupil's shoulders, and he is driving him through _The Mire of Politics_, in which he is wading knee-deep. In the distance is shown the baronet's mansion, _Independence and a comfortable home_. From an upper window a lady is waving back the traveller, who does not relish turning his back on this prospect to encounter the _Ministerial Shoals_ and _Treasury Rocks_ which are opposed to his progress on the other side. Horne Tooke is urging on the career of his _protégé_: 'Persevere! persevere! you are the only man to get through.' Burdett's confidence is wavering: 'This old man will be the end of me at last; what a miry place he has brought me into!'

_May 25, 1807._ _A White Sergeant giving the Word of Command: 'Why don't you come to bed, you drunken sot?'_ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A man, past the meridian of life, is calmly enjoying his pipe before his fire, with an agreeable book in his hand, '_Rule a wife and have a wife_.' The young wife is indignantly rating the easy-going husband on his inclination to prefer the fireside to his conjugal couch.

_May 29, 1807._ _Comedy in the Country, Tragedy in London._ Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--_Comedy in the Country_ is played in a barnlike building to an audience of rustics, whose faces express the most intense appreciation. _Tragedy in London_, as performed in a fashionable theatre, has plunged a very select audience into the depths of grief and misery: tears bedew every cheek, and even the members of the orchestra are weeping profusely.

_May 30, 1807._ _Platonic Love._ '_None but the Brave deserve the Fair._' Sir E. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sculp.--An illustration to the lines in Othello wherein Desdemona's wooing is described. A veteran commander, who has lost an arm and both legs, is acting on the advice of his fair, who is tenderly embracing his wooden leg. Although the name of Rowlandson is appended to this plate, the method of its execution bears a closer resemblance to the handling of C. W. (Williams).