Chapter VII: Part 7

John Gilpin said, 'Of womankind
I only love but one,
And thou art she, my dearest dear;
Therefore it shall be done.'--_Vide_ 'John Gilpin.'

--The Duke of York is seated at table, on which is wine and dessert, placed between Mrs. Mary Ann Clarke and her friend and _confidante_, Miss Taylor. The Duke's favourite is holding out her 'List of Promotions,' entered upon a tremendous roll of papers, which seems to be endless. 'I have a small list of promotions which I wish to be filled up immediately, my dearest!' To which modest request this weak-minded Samson is readily giving his assent: 'It shall be done, my darling!'

_March 8, 1809._ _A Scene from the Tragedy of 'Cato.'_ Published by T. Tegg.--Two Britons are meeting, wearing the most solemn aspect, indicating occurrences of portentous gravity. One of the pair is a cobbler, above whose stall is the figure of an anchor and the words, 'Hope--Insurance Office.' His friend is reciting with terrific intensity these lines:--

The dawn is overcast--the morning lours,
And heavily in clouds brings in the day--
Big with the fate of York and Mrs. Clarke.

_March 8, 1809._ _Yorkshire Hieroglyphics._ Plate 1. Published by T. Tegg.--The hieroglyphics are not very difficult to decipher, and when transcribed prove nothing more than a compromising letter, which was produced in the House of Commons, incautiously sent by the amorous Commander-in-Chief to his lady-love five years previously:--

_The Duke of York's first letter to Mrs. Clarke._

'Weymouth, August 4, 1804.

'My dear little Angel,--How can I sufficiently express to my sweetest, my darling love, the delight which her dear, her pretty letter gave me, or how do justice to the emotion it excited? Millions and millions of thanks for it, my angel, and be assured that my heart is wholly sensible of your affection, and that upon it alone its whole happiness depends.

'I am, however, quite hurt that my love did not go to the Lewes Races; how kind of her to think of me on that occasion! but I trust she knows me too well not to be convinced that I cannot bear the idea of adding to those sacrifices which I am but too sensible that she has made to me.

'News my angel cannot expect from me from hence; though the life led here, at least in the family I am in, is very hurrying, there is a sameness in it which affords little subject for a letter; except Lord Chesterfield's family, there is not a single person besides ourselves I know. Last night we were at the play, which went off better than the first night.

'Dr. O'Meara called upon me yesterday morning, and delivered me your letter; he wishes much to preach before Royalty, and if I can put him in the way of it I will.

'What a time it appears to me already, my darling, since we parted; how impatiently I look forward to next Wednesday se'night!

'God bless you, my own dear, dear love! I shall miss the post if I add more! Oh, believe me ever, to my last hour, yours and yours alone.'

[Addressed 'Mrs. Clarke, to be left at the Post Office, Worthing.' Endorsed 'Dr. O'Meara.']

_March 9, 1809._ _The Burning Shame._--The residence of Mrs. Clarke, at the corner of Gloucester Place, is made conspicuous to the public by a notification at one time practised in respect to disreputable vicinities. A man is planted before the door holding a notice-board, warning the passers-by to 'beware of bad houses and naughty women;' a couple of watchmen, with their lanterns slung on the ends of long poles, are throwing a good light on the nature of the case. A clergyman and an officer, who were evidently coming direct to the establishment on private ends, are, by this publicity, warned out of danger before their intention is disclosed to the public.

_March 11, 1809._ _Yorkshire Hieroglyphics._ Plate 2. Published by T. Tegg.

'Sandgate, August 24, 1804.

'How can I sufficiently express to my darling love my thanks for her dear, dear letter, or the delight which the assurances of her love give me!

'Oh! my angel! do me justice, and be convinced that there never was a woman adored as you are. Every day, every hour convinces me, more and more, that my whole happiness depends upon you alone. What a time it appears to be since we parted, and with what impatience do I look forward to the day after to-morrow; there are still, however, two whole nights before I clasp my darling in my arms.

'How happy am I to learn that you are better; I still, however, will not give up my hopes of the cause of your feeling uncomfortable.

'Clavering is mistaken, my angel, in thinking that any new regiments are to be raised; it is not intended, only second battalions to the existing corps; you had better, therefore, tell him so, and that you were sure that there would be no use in applying for him.

'Ten thousand thanks, my love, for the handkerchiefs, which are delightful; and I need not, I trust, assure you of the pleasure I feel in wearing them, and thinking of the dear hands which made them for me.

'Nothing could be more satisfactory than the tour I have made, and the state in which I have found everything. The whole of the day before yesterday was employed in visiting the works at Dover, reviewing the troops there, and examining the coast as far as this place. From Folkestone I had a very good view of those of the French Camp.

'Yesterday I first reviewed the Camp here, and afterwards the 14th Light Dragoons, who are certainly in very fine order; and from thence proceeded to Brabourne Lees, to see four regiments of Militia; which altogether took me up near thirteen hours.

'I am now setting off immediately to ride along the coast to Hastings, reviewing the different corps as I pass, which will take me at least as long.

'Adieu, therefore, my sweetest and dearest love, till the day after to-morrow, and be assured that to my last hour I shall ever remain your's and your's alone.'

[Addressed 'George Farquhar, Esq., 18 Gloucester Place, Portman Square.' Folkestone, endorsed 'Gen. Clavering,' &c.]

_March 12, 1809._ _The Statue to be Disposed of._ Published by T. Tegg, Cheapside.--Mrs. Clarke's house at the corner of Gloucester Place is again the subject of caricature. The figure of the Duke of York, in his uniform, with his back to the spectator, and his face to the wall, is placed on a pedestal for disposal. A placard, posted on the house, announces: 'The statue on the outside having been thoroughly repaired and whitewashed, is to be sold by private contract. For further particulars enquire within.' A bill-poster is sticking up the following notice on behalf of the publisher: 'Caricature Warehouse, 111 Cheapside. A new caricature on Mrs. Clarke every day.'

_March 13, 1809._ _A General Discharge, or the Darling Angel's Finishing Stroke._ Published by T. Tegg.--Mrs. Clarke has been making pretty havoc among the branches of the service. She has drummed out a number of officers to the tune of the 'Rogue's March;' discomfited generals and prelates, who, since their intrigues are unmasked, are doing their best to get out of range. As to the 'Darling Angel's' redoubtable opponent, the Commander-in-Chief, he has laid down his cocked-hat and sword, and, on his knees, is trying to mitigate the excess of mischief which his discarded lady-love is in a position to wreak; he is crying in despair: 'Alas, alas! for ever ruined and undone; see, see, she has spiked my Great Gun!' Mrs. Clarke, who is putting the finishing stroke to this destructive operation, is offering a parting word of gratuitous advice to the now repentant Commander: 'A wise general should make good his retreat.'

_March 15, 1809._ _The Champion of Oakhampton Attacking the Hydra of Gloucester Place._ '_Bellua Multorum es Capitum._' Vide _Horace_. The Champion is clad in a complete suit of mail, and he is valorously rushing up to the mouth of the cavern, whence the Hydra is breaking forth; it must be confessed that the Champion seems a little staggered at the front displayed by the many-headed monster; the foremost and most overgrown head is that of the Commander-in-Chief, begirt with the _Collar of Corruption_. The other heads are described by their collars: Dowler, Sandon, Dr. O'Meara, Dr. Donovan, Mrs. Clarke, and Master Carter.

_March 17, 1809._ _The Parson and the Clarke._ Published by T. Tegg.--Dr. O'Meara is favoured with a private interview, of a strictly business-like character, by Mrs. Clarke. The ambitious divine is throwing up his head in such raptures that he has jerked off his learned wig: 'Oh how I should like to preach before Royalty!' The fair dispenser of patronage, with a long roll of 'Army preferments' and a shorter list of 'Church preferments' before her, is putting the case in a matter-of-fact way: 'Only pay the Clarke's fees, and the business is done.'

So great on the Church were O'Meara's designs
That he prov'd too ambitious a spark;
But where is the wonder, ye learned divines,
That the _parson_ should follow the _Clarke_?

_March 19, 1809._ _Samson Asleep on the Lap of Delilah._ Published by T. Tegg.--The Duke of York is following the example of the famous slayer of Philistines. He is sunk in slumber, with his head on the lap of his treacherous Delilah; a pile of love-letters, addressed to his 'dearest dear,' are sufficiently indicative of his infatuation. Mrs. Clarke, who is represented in the print as a by no means repulsive-looking temptress, has taken advantage of the hero's unconsciousness to chop off his full pigtail, and she is holding up the severed caudal appendage, as an encouragement to the enemies of the helpless Commander-in-Chief to take advantage of their opportunity: 'Gentlemen, you may now take him with safety, his strength is gone; I have cut off his regulation tail, and there is no danger!'

_March 24, 1809._ _The Resignation, or John Bull overwhelmed with Grief._ Published by T. Tegg.--The departing Commander-in-Chief, in his regimentals, as he is invariably represented, is trying to harrow John Bull's sympathies before he deprives him of his valuable services: 'Good bye, Johnny; I am going to resign; but don't take it so much to heart; perhaps I may very soon come back again!'[20]

The good-natured national prototype is keeping up a show of affliction under the approaching bereavement; but, although he is concealing his face with his handkerchief, a smile lurks round the corner of his mouth as he sobs out somewhat equivocally in reply: 'O dunna, dunna go! it will break my heart to part with you--you be such a desperate moral character!'

_March 24, 1809._ _The Prodigal Son's Resignation._--The stout sinner is humbling himself before the throne. A portion of the King's figure is concealed; the Duke of York has laid his _Resignation_, together with his coat, sword, and cocked-hat, at the paternal feet, and, kneeling in his denuded state, he is quoting the words of the parable of the Prodigal Son: 'Father, I have sinned before thee, and I am no longer worthy to be called thy son.' The monarch, who seems deeply affected by the spectacle of his favourite son's abasement, is returning: 'Very naughty boy! very naughty boy indeed! However, I forgive you; but don't do so any more.'

_March 29, 1809._ _Mrs. Clarke's Last Effort._ Published by T. Tegg.--The delicate investigation being concluded, the fair mover, Mrs. Clarke, was, as the satirists suggested, left without occupation; and Rowlandson has accordingly represented that she might employ her talents to advantage in opening an inn a little way out of town; she is pictured as the landlady of _Clarke & Co's Original Tavern, from the York Hotel, London_. Members of the Army, the Church, a Quaker, and others are hurrying up to extend their patronage to the new establishment. Mrs. Clarke, bent on hospitable intents, is encouraging her old friends to return and rally round: 'Come forward, gentlemen; you'll all be welcome. Every little helps':--

Your rhino rattle--come--
Men and cattle--come--
All to Mrs. Clarke O
Of trouble and monies
I'll ease you, my Honies,
And leave you in the dark O.

_March 30, 1809._ _The York Dilly, or the Triumph of Innocence._ Published by T. Tegg.--A coach full of learned gentlemen, driven by a Counsel in his robes, is passing through an enthusiastic crowd; the charioteer is declaring: 'I thought we should bring him through.' The Duke of York is in the boot, apparently, 'blowing his own trumpet;' a placard, wreathed in laurel, is on the roof of the carriage, announcing, _Acquitted_. _Glorious majority of 82._

The people are uproariously demonstrative; they are shouting: 'Huzza! glorious news for Old England!' females are encouraging their husbands to cheer; the figure of Mrs. Clarke is represented bursting through the multitude and shaking her fists at her late 'protector,' while a stout Churchman by her side is loyally protesting, 'I always said he was innocent!'

_April 1, 1809._ _Doctor O'Meara's Return to his Family, after Preaching before Royalty_. Published by T. Tegg.--The reverend divine has returned home to his comely spouse and family in such an elated frame of mind--skipping about, to the derangement of his ecclesiastic dignity, and losing his wig and hat--that his wife is enquiring: 'Why, my dear, you are quite frantic; what is the matter with you?' The Doctor is replying, in ecstasy, jumping higher than ever: 'Frantic?--I believe I am--I have been preaching before Royalty--our fortunes are made--such a sermon--neat text--quarter of an hour's discourse--appropriate prayer at the conclusion--Oh! to see them cry it would have melted a heart of stone--Oh bless that Mrs. Clarke; I shall never forget her!'

_April 1, 1809._ _Mrs. Clarke's Farewell to her Audience. Tailpiece._ Published by T. Tegg.--All the principal performers--generals, colonels, captains, reverend doctors, Master Carter, &c.--who have figured in the 'Clarke Scandal,' and throughout the series of satirical prints which Rowlandson designed on the _Delicate Enquiry_, are drawn up on the stage, in proper theatrical fashion, to acknowledge the gratifying reception accorded their exertions at the hands of an appreciative public. The national prototype, as the paying patron of the performance, is in the stage box, clapping his hands with enthusiasm, and shouting, 'Bravo, bravo!' Mrs. Clarke, as the leading actress, is standing in front of the line of players, dressed in semi-martial fashion, with a military hat on her head, epaulettes, a gorget, a laced coat, and a crimson sash. She is speaking the farewell address, which is as follows:--'Ladies and Gentlemen,--Having done our duty as far as we were called upon, we most humbly take our leave of a generous audience; not, like the generality of actors, wishing for a repetition of the performance, but, on the contrary, that it may never again be repeated. As to our friend Mr. Tegg, we hope that the graphic illustrations of this drama, which he and his performers have brought forward, may meet with that encouragement which is never denied to the effusions of whim and humour by a loyal and liberal British public; but I particularly request that, while you acquit the Bishop, you will be merciful to his Clarke.'

_April 4, 1809._ _Original Plan for a Popular Monument, to be erected in Gloucester Place._ Published by T. Tegg.--The contributaries to this monument of turpitude are grouped together to form a memorial suited to the occasion. The foundation-stone is a huge block, labelled 'York Folly,' supported on one side by the Episcopal mitre and crozier of the Right Rev. Bishop of Osnabrück, with a scroll of 'The New Morality.' The accessories on the other side are the cocked-hat, sword, and tender love-letters of the ex-Commander-in-Chief. A block of 'Cracked Portland Stone,' and a third slab of 'Folkestone of the first quality,' refer to the agitations raised by the Duke of Portland and Lord Folkestone; the more spirited elements are ranged above this foundation, in the form of a barrel of 'Whitbread's Entire,' 'Burdett's Stingo,' and 'Wardle's British Spirit,' these gentlemen having been the most active in enforcing the Duke's resignation. 'Romilly Freestone' supports a pair of medallions representing the two officers consigned to Newgate for prevarication--'Sandon' and 'Clavering's Dumps.' _Mrs. Clarke's Pyramid_, a golden cone, caps the edifice reared on corruption.

_April 5, 1809._ _A York Address to the Whale Caught lately off Gravesend._ Published by T. Tegg.--The Duke of York, in his regimentals, has gone down on his knees to the latest wonder of the hour, and is beseeching the popular arrival to divert the minds of an excitement-loving public from his own particular case: 'O mighty monster of the deep, continue to attract the attention of John Bull, bend his mind solely towards thee, for in that is my only hope; fascinated by thy powerful attractions, he may perhaps forget the honour of a Prince.'

_April 10, 1809._ _The Flower of the City._--The figure of Alderman Flower is represented in the centre of a huge sunflower blowing on a stem, 'Weak Stock,' planted in a pot of 'Rank Butter,' and elevated on two cheeses, marked 'Mouldy and Rotten.' A sinister blast from a diabolical agent is withering the plant, and the leaves are falling; they are labelled with various uncomplimentary sentences, suggesting all kinds of vices, belonging to the parent shoot. Below this unflattering tribute to the Alderman is inscribed the following parody of verses:--

The Flow'r of the City, so gaudy and fine,
'Midst proud ones the proudest, was erst known to shine.
It spread its gay leaves and it show'd its rich clothes,
And to all (less in consequence) turn'd up its nose!
Till a blight, a sad blight, from a Democrat wind
Struck the sensitive plant, both before and behind.
It felt the keen blast! All its arrogance fled,
And the Flow'r of the City hung, hung down its head.

The Flow'r of the City, thus doom'd to despair,
Droops, pines, and with wailing impregnates the air!
Tells its pride and its folly (the cause of its grief),
While the tears of repentance encumber each leaf!
But vain are its tears, or the fate it bemoans,
The world, the base world, gives but hisses and groans!
For ever! for ever! its proud hopes are fled,
And the Flow'r of the City hangs, hangs down its head.

_April 10, 1809._ _The Modern Babel, or Giants Crushed by a Weight of Evidence._ Published by T. Tegg.--The unfortunate Duke of York, with his Counsel and learned supporters, are crushed down under the weight of a compound structure which has been imposed upon their heads and shoulders. The bulkiest mass is the _Evidence of Mrs. Clarke_; _Miss Taylor's Evidence_ is next in consequence, and the pyramidal slabs decrease upwards: _Sly hits from Sandon and Clavering_; _Home Strokes from Dowling_; _Mrs. Hovendon's Evidence_; _Mrs. Tavery, Doctor O'Meara, Master Carter_, &c. The person of Mrs. Clarke, posed in a triumphant attitude, is the figure which completes this superstructure of folly.

_April 18, 1809._ _The Sick Lion and the Asses._ Published by T. Tegg.--The Duke of York's head is placed on the shoulders of the disabled forest king, a pair of asses are showing their heels to the royal beast. 'What a _Cur it is_!' and 'Every man has his _Price_,' written on their collars, proclaim the identity of these animals. Another ass, of deeper cunning, forbears to take advantage of the prostrate lion, from far-seeing motives: 'Pshaw, pshaw! don't be afraid, I shall not kick, you may depend upon me--you may be of service to me hereafter!'

The apologue is said to be 'taken from Mr. Waithman's speech at the Common Hall:' 'When the royal beast was sick to death, and unable to defend himself, the minor beasts he had injured came to revile him with their wrongs; but when the dull asses came to fling their heels at him the royal animal exclaimed: "Injuries from others I can bear with resignation, but to bear insult from such vile animals as asses is to die a hundred deaths!"'

_April 21, 1809._ _Burning the Books._ Published by T. Tegg.--As we have traced in the summary of the diversified proceedings in the Clarke Scandal, the friends of the Duke of York were glad, as a last resource, to make terms with the enemy; and the conditions under which Mrs. Clarke's silence was purchased being published abroad (considering the publicity of the circumstances attending the _Investigation_, the terms of surrender could not be disguised), the satirists made merry over this fresh instance of tergiversation.

The edition of Mrs. Clarke's memoirs, the bombshell which threatened the aristocratic peace of mind, was purchased for a certain sum. In the print of 'Burning the Books' the heroine of the scandal is holding up the terms of surrender: '10,000_l._, debts paid, 600_l._ per annum, &c. &c.' The heroine of the memoirs is directing the destruction of her eagerly-expected volumes, containing hundreds of letters from persons of quality, including the correspondence (supposed to have been destroyed) of the Duke of York. The lady is zealous enough in the interests of her profitable clients: 'Burn away! I would burn half the universe for the money. You may preserve a copy or two for Doctor O'Meara and a few private friends. Now for my Brimstone carriage!' The printer's men are carrying piles of the offending work, and committing the edition to the flames. An acknowledgment from the publisher is on the writing-table: 'Received for paper and printing, and also for destroying this,' &c. The figure of the Duke of York is shown, slily peeping from behind a curtain; the Commander, lately resigned, is evidently delighted at the course things are taking, and is crying, 'This will do!' Many of the letters, as Mrs. Clarke declared, reflected in disrespectful terms on the heir to the throne and others of his royal brothers.

_April 22, 1809._ _A Piece-Offering._ Published by T. Tegg.--Mrs. Clarke, in all her extensive finery, is sacrificing her memoirs, _Life of Mrs. Clarke_, the Duke's ardent love-letters, and all the disagreeable evidences supposed to have remained in her possession, at the _Altar of Repentance_. The figure of the Commander is rising in effigy above the flames, in the centre of a brilliant sun; his face is turned to the authoress of the pyre with a satisfied smile. The high-priestess of the sacrifice is gratefully addressing the mollified divinity: 'Thus perish all that gives my darling pain!'

_May 24, 1809._ _The Quaker and the Clarke._ Published by T. Tegg.--A sedate Quaker, in a suit of modest brown, has turned his back on the beguiling enchantress, fair authoress of so much mischief, and is hurrying away from her entreaties 'to tarry a while,' declaring: 'Woman, avaunt! I am not to be tempted; and be it known also I am a married man,' &c.

_May 28, 1809._ _John Bull and the Genius of Corruption._ Published by T. Tegg (94).--The national prototype has been haranguing on the extinction of abuses with a compound symbolical monster, who is standing in the way of progress and healthy legislation. Mr. Bull's corrupt opponent is making the Jesuitical concession: 'What you say about Reform, Johnny, is very true, but this is not the time for it!' John Bull, who has no opinion of the obstructive party, is retorting, 'No, nor it never will be while such a monster as you remains in existence!'

The monster, who is evidently a difficult customer to deal with, wears a defensive cap of _Professions and Promises_; he has 'an eye to _Interest_,' a _Mouth of Guile_, and a nose to _Scent for Interest_; he wears the _Collar of Corruption_, has _Wings of Speculation_, _Arms of Power_, and _Hands of Extortion_, and is further provided with bags of gold for the purpose of bribery, _Deep Pockets of Perquisites_, _Legs of Luxury_, and he is propped on _Feet of Connivance_.

_June 12, 1809._ _Boney's Broken Bridge._--The Austrian army is drawn up in security on one side of the river Danube; Buonaparte, in a fine rage with his discomfited generals, and his disappointed legions, are arrayed on the other bank, powerless to disturb their exulting adversaries. The Emperor is pointing to the remains of his famous bridge, and furiously demanding, in reply to the Austrian taunts: 'Ah, who is it that dares contradict me? I say it was some floating timber and the high swell of the river that caused the shocking accident!' An impolitic old general, bowing low, and in consternation at the news he is obliged to impart, is replying: 'With all due deference to your little Majesty, it was the Austrian fire-boats that destroyed the bridge.' The Archduke's troops are chanting a new edition of an old nursery rhyme:--

Boney's bridge is broken down,
Dance over the Lady Lee;
Boney's bridge is broken down
By an Archduke--ee.

_July 9, 1809._ _Hell Broke Loose, or the Devil to Pay among the 'Darling Angels.'_ Published by T. Tegg.--The dark fiend is standing at the gates of the infernal regions, scourge in hand; he is dressed in the wig and robes of a judge, and poised on a slab, setting forth the well-recognised axiom: _Two of a trade can never agree_. The diabolical personage is holding the balance between the two principal actors in the late proceedings. It will be remembered that a misunderstanding occurred between the chief conspirators. Soon after the conclusion of the investigation in the House of Commons, Colonel Wardle and Mrs. Clarke began to exchange mutual recriminations, and the public were gratified with fresh scandalous revelations; the champion of impartial justice began to lose his strangely-earned popularity. Colonel Wardle is plunged into the scale of _Patriotism_, with an infernal imp to weigh him down; the gold box, in which the freedoms of more than one town were offered to the enemy of corruption, and the York _impeachment papers_ are thrown into the scale to make weight. Mrs. Clarke is balanced against her late coadjutor in the scale of _Virtue_. 'Love-letters, Mr. Wright's bill, Doctor Donovan's bill,' &c., are added to weigh against the Colonel's testimonials.

_July, 1809._ _The Tables are Turned. How are the Mighty Fallen!_--The public were treated with the spectacle of the patriotic champion sued in a law court for the furniture of Mrs. Clarke's house at Westbourne Place, which had been taken on his guarantee and recommendation. The Court gave judgment against the crestfallen Colonel, who had denied his liability, and he was adjudged to pay the heavy expenses incurred in the new establishment and the incidental costs of the process. In Rowlandson's view of the situation Mrs. Clarke is seen mounted on her asinine ex-supporter; the head of the steed bears a face suggestively resembling the countenance of the patriot; a 'Turkey carpet' furnishes a saddle; the motto _England expects every man to do his duty_ is written on the bridle; 'Wright, the upholsterer's bill' is tied to the animal's tail; the lady is whipping up her reluctant supporter with a birch labelled 'Private promises.' The ass is scattering the chairs, tables, mirrors, fenders, and other objects particularised on 'the bill' which gave the Colonel so much irritation; the flattering presentations, addresses, gold boxes, 'Thanks to my ass,' 'Lies against the Duke of York,' 'Thanks to a Welch Billy Goat,' 'From the City of London,' 'Thanks and freedom in a gold box,' and other complimentary testimonials, are scattered on the ground. The dashing rider is making an exhibition of her skilful management of the donkey tribe:--

I've a fine stud of Asses as ever was seen;
This is one of the number from Westbourne Green.
Gee up, Neddy, come up, Neddy, &c.,
What do you think of my Neddy and me?

_July 14, 1809._ _More of the Clarke, or Fresh Accusations._ Published by T. Tegg.--Colonel Wardle is exposed to the public in a humiliating position; his former mob-popularity is reversed, and their admiration is changed to ridicule. The scene is supposed to take place in front of the mansion in Westbourne Place, before which is assembled a crowd of jeering spectators. Mrs. Clarke, unabashed, as in the previous disclosures, is frankly denouncing her ex-colleague, and pointing to the luxurious fittings of her bedroom. She is unmasking the scandalised champion to his late friends the mob: 'And Clarke said unto Felix, Thou art the man;--behold the furniture! and Felix trembled.' The Colonel, whose reputation did not improve as the innuendoes of his new opponents became more daring, with clasped hands and his knees knocking together, is servilely trying to reinstate his lost reputation: 'Good people of the United Kingdom, suspend your judgment for the present, till I get this woman placed in the pillory. I never did anything naughty no more than the child unborn. It was all for the good of my country, I assure you. I am as firm a patriot as ever purchased a convex mirror or a red Turkey carpet.'

_July 16, 1809._ _The Plot Thickens, or Diamond Cut Diamond._ Published by T. Tegg.--Mrs. Clarke is still in the thick of her complications. She is standing, unmoved, in the centre of the picture. Colonel Wardle, who soon fell out with his ally when pushed to fulfil her conditions, is declaring for vengeance: 'I intend to commence an action against her for obtaining money under false pretences in the case of French's levy. I'll teach her to send gentlemen to Newgate.' Another individual, dressed as a civilian, recommends: 'Leave her to me; I'll touch her up in the furniture business!' Mrs. Clarke, with her hands on her lips, is replying: 'I don't care a fig for any of you; and as to you, Mr. Furnituremonger, I'll be beforehand with you.' A stout gentleman behind the fair _intriguante_ cries, 'That's a good girl, follow him up; I'll back you; I'll let him know whose _Wright_ and whose _Wrong_. If I don't enter an action against him I'm no upholsterer.' A young barrister, holding a voluminous brief, is smiling with satisfaction at the prospect of litigation, and encouraging both sides: 'That's right, my good friends; it's all for the _Best_!'

_July 18, 1809._ _Amusement for the Recess, or the Devil to Pay amongst the Furniture._ Published by T. Tegg.--Colonel Wardle is represented, in an infuriated state, wreaking vengeance on the offensive furniture, which had caused the destruction of his popularity and his reputation; the lately immaculate champion is armed with a bludgeon; he is trampling under foot 'An Essay on Keeping Bad Company,' and breaking up the elegant belongings of the establishment, for the privilege of supplying which he had been compelled to pay a sufficiently heavy penalty; he is made to exclaim: 'D---- the furniture, d---- the convex mirrors and red Turkey carpets; d---- Westbourne Place and everything that belongs to it.' Mrs. Clarke is rather entertained than dismayed at this spirit of wanton destructiveness: 'Deary, those little gusts of Welsh passion become you extremely; the exercise will do you good; besides, it will increase your popularity!'

_July 30, 1809._ _The Bill of Wright's, or the Patriot Alarmed._ Published by T. Tegg.--The upholsterer has waited on Colonel Wardle and unrolled his long bill: 'Gullem Waddle, Esq., to Wright. Red Turkey carpet, convex mirror, chandeliers, sideboards, bed furniture, chairs and tables, vases and cellarets, Egyptian furniture, _sofa à la Clarke_,' and other weighty items. 'Mr. Gullem Waddle, I have brought you in a small bill for goods delivered for the Cleopatra of Westbourne Place; and, as you are a true patriot, you can have no possible objection to the Bill of Wright's.' The dismayed Colonel, keeping his hands in his pockets, is making a counter-proposal: 'What do you talk about patriotism? I tell you I have left off practice. D---- the Bill of Wright's! It is all a mistake about Westbourne Place; you should have taken it to Gloucester Place--there you would be sure to have had your money!'

_August 1, 1809._ _The Mistake._ Published by T. Tegg.

_August 1, 1809._ _Wonders, Wonders, Wonders._ Published by T. Tegg. (101).--Ten figures of 'Natural Curiosities,' designed and etched by Rowlandson. A certain amount of care is bestowed on the execution of this plate. The marvels of the age in which the caricature was published have not, in most cases, become monotonously plentiful in our own day. As set down by the satirist the ten wonders were the discoveries of 'A modest woman of quality; a primitive Bishop; a real maid of five-and-thirty; an exciseman with a conscience; an author with a second suit of clothes (this fictitious person has been represented in a most jubilant fashion); a great man of common sense; a woman who has continued three months a widow; a theatrical hero of modesty and economy; a complete honest attorney;' and, lastly, 'a man of talents, wit, and learning possessed of a thousand a year.'

On the close of the Clarke Scandal, which had fitly served the purpose of the satirist, our caricaturist resumed his series of attacks upon the more memorable 'disturber of the peace of Europe.'

_August 28, 1809._ _The Rising Sun, or a View of the Continent._ Published by R. Ackermann.--Buonaparte is surrounded by the Continental Powers; his present occupation is to lull and rock to slumber, in a cradle, the Russian Bear, muzzled with French promises, and tempted with 'Turkey wheat.' The Corsican is figuratively and literally sitting on thorns; the sun of Spain and Portugal is arising on the meridian with threatening import. Sweden has taken the part of watchguard of Freedom, and is raising the cap of liberty; a Swedish huzzar is making a desperate sabre-cut at the too successful general, and sounding a warning note to the betrayed Muscovite: 'Awake, thou sluggard, ere the fatal blow is struck, and thou and thine execrable ally sunk to eternal oblivion.' The Emperor is disturbed by the new light: 'This rising sun has set me upon thorns.' The Dutchman, with a broken sceptre, is sunk in a besotted sleep on a cask of 'genuine hollands,' and leaning the weight of his fat person on his ally, who finds the weight a trifle crushing. Poland is represented as a shadow; the Prussian eagle is trussed; and the King, with straw in his hair, and confined in a strait-waistcoat, is singing mad ditties. Denmark is snuffed out under an extinguisher; but the Austrian Emperor is once more taking heart and advancing to the attack, sabre in hand, with dangerous intentions: 'Tyrant, I defy thee and thy cursed crew!'

_September 3, 1809._ _The Pope's Excommunication of Buonaparte, or Napoleon brought to his last stool._ Published by T. Tegg.--The Pope and his legates have called on the Emperor, with candle and bell, to produce an effect. The head of the Church is propped up on 'French crutches,' and his triple crown is split asunder; he is declaring: 'He has cracked my crown, overturned my temporal dignities; but I am so trammelled in these crutches that I cannot follow him as I would wish; however, my good Lord Cardinals, read him the excommunication--it will make him tremble on his throne.' The Cardinals proceed to rehearse the contents of the comminatory scroll; the Emperor, who is holding an 'Essay on the Church of Rome,' amongst other waste papers, is returning, unmoved: 'Mercy on me! I never heard anything half so dreadful. When you have done with that paper, gentlemen, I will thank you for it!'

_September 4, 1809._ _Song by Commodore Curtis._ _Tune, 'Cease, rude Boreas.'_ Published by T. Tegg.--The artist has furnished the heading for a parody setting forth the adventures of the gallant Curtis, Alderman and Commodore, with the expedition which was sent to assist our allies the Dutch against the French. Curtis is seated in his armchair in the cabin of his yacht, a great gold challenge cup, _Speedy and Soon_, in his grasp, with a turtle laid on its back by his side. A party of English officers belonging to the expedition have come on board, and they are making free with his good things; wine and punch are flowing lavishly. According to the song-writer's version these gallant warriors, having boarded the Commodore's yacht and made sad havoc with all his provisions, succeeded, after a three days' devastation, in eating and drinking all the plentiful supplies laid in by poor Curtis, until at last he began to dread that they might take it into their heads to eat him too. Although the worthy cit set out enthusiastically and filled with valour, his return was somewhat less heroic:--

From Ramsgate we set sail for Flushing,
To aid our friends the Mynheers;
And for the Scheld our fleet was pushing,
Resolved to trounce the d----d Monsieurs!

Slightly discomfited, the Commodore sounds a retreat:--

Now farewell all my hopes of glory,
Scheld's muddy flood and isles adieu;
I'll lead the van with the first story,
And tell the Cockneys something new.
I'll talk of batteries, bloody sieges,
Of fizzing bombshells, towns on fire,
Till my tale the whole town obliges
My deeds and courage to admire.

_September 14, 1809._ _A Design for a Monument to be erected in commemoration of the glorious and never-to-be-forgotten Grand Expedition, so ably planned and executed in the year 1809._ Published by T. Tegg (107).--The bust of General Chatham, crowned with bulrushes, is at the head of this satirical memorial; monkeys and frogs are grouped on either side, 'French monkeys in attitudes of derision,' and 'Dutch frogs smoking their pipes in safety.' The shield represents 'the immortal William Pitt, Earl of Chatham,' obscured in the clouds. The supporters of the escutcheon are a 'British seaman in the dumps,' and 'John Bull, somewhat gloomy--but for what it is difficult to guess, after so glorious an achievement.'

_The Motto._

Great Chatham, with one hundred thousand men,
To Flushing sailed, and then sailed back again.

The fleet is represented sailing homeward under the 'Sun of Glory.' 'A flying view of the return of the expedition. _O tempora! O mores!_'

_September 24, 1809._ _General Cheathem's marvellous Return from his Exhibition of Fireworks._ Published by T. Tegg (108).--The General is returning from the abortive Walcheren Expedition, mounted on a flying wooden horse, which, like Don Quixote's and other enchanted steeds, is performing wonders in the way of discharging rockets; on one side of the General swings a fleet of ships, 'Wooden castles in the air,' balanced by such empty bladders as the 'Walcheren Expedition,' 'Bereland, plan and fortifications of Flushing,' &c. The glorious General has taken a pair of Dutch dolls captive, and these are the chief trophies of his adventure. 'Here I am, my dear Johnny, escaped from fire, water, plague, pestilence, and famine; my fireworks have given general satisfaction abroad. I must now couch on a "bed of roses," and hope when I awake to be rewarded with a pension and dukedom for brilliant services.' Mr. Bull and his lady are standing on their own shores, deeply impressed with the General's manoeuvres. Cries Mrs. Bull, 'Lord, what a man of mettle he is!' John Bull is grasping his thick stick in a way that looks menacing: 'General Cheathem flying back, as I foretold, garnished out with drops and Dutch metal. Where is the ten million of British bullion, you scarecrow? The Sinking Fund suits your talents better than sinking of ships.' Commodore Curtis, in his yacht, is sailing away from the 'mortality at Flushing,' and shouting in great glee: 'A new contract for mouldy biscuits. Expeditions for ever. Huzza!'

1809. _A Plan for a General Reform._ Published by T. Tegg.

_September 27, 1809._ _This is the House that Jack Built._ (_Old Price Row at Drury Lane._) Published by T. Tegg.--This cartoon, in six compartments, is aimed at Kemble's new house, which, from certain arrangements of the boxes, and other innovations, became the cause of considerable turbulence--

These are the Boxes let to the great
That visit the House that Jack built.

The curtain of the theatre bears the advertisement: 'Grand theatrical Bagnio, fitted up in the Italian style;' 'Lodgings to let for the season, or a single night;' 'Roomy pit for parsons, poets, Presbyterians, Quakers, grumblers,' &c.; 'Boxes for the Cyprian corps, with snug lobby to ditto;' 'Private accommodations for the Members of both Houses of Parliament;' '_Boudoirs pour la Noblesse_;' 'Rabbit hutches, seven shillings each;' 'Humbug gallery, _two shillings_;' and, chief cause of dissatisfaction, 'Pigeon-holes for the swinish multitude':--

These are the pigeon-holes over the Boxes,
Let to the great that visit the House that Jack built.
This is the Cat engaged to squall to the poor in the
pidgeon-holes over the Boxes, let to the great
that visit the House that Jack built.

Madame Catalini is endeavouring to sing; but the audience, armed with rattles, post-horns, and other noisy instruments, are raising a regular uproar:--

This is John Bull with a bugle-horn,
That hissed the Cat engaged to squall to the poor, &c.
This is the Thief-taker,[21] shaven and shorn,
That took up John Bull, with his bugle-horn, &c.--

The rioters are having a regular stand-up fight outside the theatre, as well as within. The last verse--

This is the Manager, full of scorn,
Who rais'd the price to the people forlorn, &c.,
And directed the Thief-taker, shaven and shorn, &c.--

introduces the great John Kemble at the foot-lights, haranguing his unruly audience; the house is represented much as it actually appeared; the rioters, provided with squirts, bellows, marrow-bones, cleavers, rattles, cow-horns, and all sorts of rough music, in short, every instrument of noise that ingenuity could suggest, with huge streamers, banners, and placards, held out on long poles, &c., containing such announcements as 'No theatrical taxation,' 'No intriguing shop,' 'No annual boxes,' 'No Italian singers,' 'None of your Jesuitical tricks, you black monk,' 'Be silent, Mr. Kemble's head _aitches_,' 'Kemble, remember the Dublin tin-man,' 'Dickons for ever, no Catalini.'

_September 30, 1809._ _A Lump of Impertinence._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sc. Published by T. Tegg.--'Who the devil do you stare at? Get along about your business.'

1809(?). _A Lump of Innocence._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sc.--A florid beauty, of the fat, fair, forty, and full-blown type, is 'affecting a modesty, though she has it not;' her eyes are downcast, and a blush suffuses all over, her cheeks being about the colour of a bumper of rubicund cognac brandy which she is imbibing, probably with a view to hide her sensibility: 'Really, gentlemen, if you gaze at me in this manner you will put me quite to the blush!'

_October 9, 1809._ _Miseries of Human Life._ Published by T. Tegg (257).

1809. _Business and Pleasure._ Published by T. Tegg (292).

_October 24, 1809._ _Preparations for the Jubilee, or Theatricals Extraordinary._ Published by T. Tegg.--A range of booths occupies the background of the view; a pole is erected before each of the tents, displaying a flag and an advertising poster, indicating the nature of the show provided within. The preparations are being completed, the workmen are putting the finishing strokes in readiness for opening. Under the union-jack is _Perceval, Eldon & Co.'s Pic Nic Entertainments; any port in a storm_. Under 'false colours' is Don John's booth, announcing, _Set a beggar on horseback, he'll ride to the devil_, with the _Row, or a fig for John Bull_. Mr. Canning's Booth advertises _The Double Dealer_, with _The Duellist_. Lord Mulgrave offers _A Chapter of Accidents_, with _'Tis well 'tis no Worse_. Lord Castlereagh promises _The Revenge_, with _Who would have thought it?_ Lord Wellington's booth has _The Wild Goose Chase_, with _The Wanderer_. Under a huge cocked-hat, as a sign, is General Chatham's booth, 'Just arrived from Flushing.' A comedy called _Delays and Blunders_, to which will be added _He will be a Soldier_, is the bill offered from Holland. Mrs. Clarke's booth presents _A new melodrama_, called _More Secrets than One_, with _Various Deceptions_; and her neighbour, Colonel Wardle, promises _Plot and Counter Plot_, with the farce of the _Upholsterer_.

_October 25, 1809._ _A Bill of Fare for Bond Street Epicures._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sc. Published by T. Tegg (188).--Six subjects, representing fair and fashionably-dressed female loungers of the period, parodied under the several descriptions of _À la Mode Beef_, _Rump of Beef_, _Breast of Veal_, _Veal Cutlets_, _Baron of Beef_, and _Pork Sausage_. The figures of these various personages are marked with spirit, and the respective attributes are conveyed with a certain humorous appropriateness.

1809. _A Bill of Fare for Bond Street Epicures._ Published by T. Tegg.--A variation of the subjects published under a similar title, in which the charms of numerous females are set forth under figurative titles; the persons of six ladies are displayed in this print, their personal attractions being grotesquely set off as _Pigs Pettitoes_, _Scrag of Mutton_, _Leg of Lamb_, _Polony_, _Cod's Head and Shoulders_, and _Lamb Chop, with Mint Sauce_. (Republished from 1808. Companion to No. 188. Published October 25, 1809.)

_December 1, 1809._ _Cattle not Insurable._

_Hopes of the Family, or Miss Marrowfat Home for the Holidays._ Published by T. Tegg (No. 293).

_December 12, 1809._ _The Boxes._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi:--

O woe is me, 't have seen what I have seen;
Seeing what I see!--SHAKESPEARE.

The artist has given a view of the 'pigeon-holes' at Drury Lane, as the new gallery in 'the house that Jack built' was derisively christened; the present plate offers a burlesque representation of the refined parts of the house, taken possession of by a company more miscellaneous than select. The 'rabbit-hutches,' at seven shillings, are given up to owls and deaf people; a narrow row below, in which the space is so confined that it is impossible for the spectators to stand upright, is held by Irish cabmen, roughs smoking long clay pipes, &c.; below these, in the _boudoirs pour la noblesse_, we find the servants of the great, dramdrinking, hobanobbing, and flirting. The occupants of the rest of the private boxes are of a ruffianly type; big sticks and publican's pewter measures are noticeable, besides gentlemen with damaged optics, and without coats; a great dog, ladies from St. Giles's, and similarly distinguished members of society. A scene of quarrelling, practical joking, and general uproar is proceeding below.

_December 23, 1809._ _A Peep at the Gas Lights in Pall Mall._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sc.--The sketch represents a view of the first thoroughfare where gas was employed to illuminate the streets. Mr. Ackermann, the publisher, was one of the earliest to light his Repository with gas, which he manufactured for the purpose, and was at considerable expense in providing apparatus and making experiments in improving the process. The sightseers are lost in wonder and admiration at the novelty of finding gas burning in the streets; the lamps are arranged in branches of three. A gentleman of fashion is endeavouring to explain the science of gas-making to an elegant creature on his arm: 'The coals being steamed, produce tar or paint for the outside of houses; the smoke passing through water is deprived of substance, and burns as you see.' An Irish visitor, who has, uninvited, been attending to this lucid explanation, is bursting out with 'Arrah, honey, if this man brings fire through water we shall soon have the Thames and the Liffey burnt down, and all the pretty little herrings and whales burnt to cinders!' Amongst other wondergazers is a country farmer, who is exclaiming, 'Wauns, what a main pretty light it be! we have nothing like it in our country.' A Quaker, his companion, is responding, 'Ay, friend, but it is all vanity; what is this to the inward light?' The more disreputable members of the community are reflecting that the new light will expose their depravities and put a stop to their commerce.

_December, 1809._ _Joint Stock Street._ Woodward del., Rowlandson fecit. Published by T. Tegg (174).--From this satire it seems that a company-mania must have raged in 1809, suggestive, in its extravagance, of the days of the South Sea Bubble. In front of the _Hospital for Incurables_ is a blank wall, covered with advertisements of various joint-stock enterprises, which are attracting the attention of the speculative. There is a _Doctors' Company_, offering incalculable advantages: 'No charge for emetics, &c.; patent coffins provided on the shortest notice; no surgeons admitted.' '_A Company of Menders_, open to both sexes; wives to mend their husbands, husbands to mend their wives, and most particularly, everybody to mend themselves.' _Company of White-washers. N.B. No lawyers admitted. More advantages; a new Cabbage and Potatoe Company, warranted genuine; no cooking required, saves time and trouble._ At the corner of Bubble Alley is the following tempting notice: _Peter Puff, manufacturer of deal boards without knots, from genuine sawdust, &c._ And outside a miserable hovel is the advertisement of _Tim Slashem, barber, and perriwig maker, who has a company in formation of mowers of beards by a new machine, to shave sixty men in a minute, to comb, oil, and powder their wigs in the bargain_.

_December 24, 1809._ _The Bull and Mouth._ Woodward del., Rowlandson sc. Published by T. Tegg (290).--A corpulent gentleman, wearing a dressing-gown and nightcap, is yawning and stretching in his armchair. His huge head and gaping jaws would furnish forth excellently well a sign for the _Bull and Mouth_. By his side stands a handsome and highly developed lady, who is taking advantage of the sleepiness of her rude monster to slip a _billet-doux_ into the hand of a military officer, who is waiting in the rear.

1809. _A Glee. How shall we Mortals Spend our Hours? In Love! in War! in Drinking!_ Published by T. Tegg.--Three figures, represented as seated at table, with all the appointments and accessories incidental to the brewing of punch, carry out the spirit of the quotation. The lover, a smart young buck, in top-boots, is rapturously clasping his hands, after a toast, in inward contemplation of the perfections of his mistress. An old Commodore illustrates the idea of a life spent in warfare--although minus an eye and a leg, he is tough and hearty, and is seemingly content with his pipe and bowl. The brutalising results of hours devoted to mere bestial intoxication are realised in the person of a slovenly and imbecile sot.

1809. _Rowlandson's Sketches from Nature._ Drawn and etched by Rowlandson. Stadler, aquatinta. Published by T. Tegg.

A View in Camelford, Cornwall Sept. 1, 1809.
The Seat of M. Mitchell, Esq., Hengar, Cornwall Sept. 1 "
A Cottage in the Duchy of Cornwall Sept. 1 "
Village of St. Udy, Cornwall Sept. 1 "
Fowey, Cornwall Sept. 30 "
A View near Richmond Oct. 4 "
A View in Devonshire Oct. 4 "
Taunton Vale, Somersetshire Nov. 25 "
View near Newport, Isle of Wight Nov. 25 "
Temple at Strawberry Hill Nov. 25 "
White Lion Inn, Ponders End, Middlesex Nov. 25 "

STERNE'S 'SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY.'

CALAIS.

_The Coach-yard of Monsieur Dessein's Inn._--'This certainly, fair lady,' said I, raising her hand up a little lightly as I began, 'must be one of Fortune's whimsical doings: to take two utter strangers by their hands--of different sexes, and perhaps from different corners of the globe--and in one moment place them together in such a cordial situation as Friendship herself could scarce have achieved for them, had she projected it for a month.'

'And your reflection upon it shews how much, monsieur, she has embarrassed you by the adventure.' In saying this she disengaged her hand with a look which I thought a sufficient commentary upon the text.

The triumphs of a true feminine heart are short upon these discomfitures. In a very few seconds she laid her hand upon the cuff of my coat, in order to finish her reply.

* * * * *

I fear, in this interval, I must have made some slight efforts towards a closer compression of her hand, from a subtle sensation I felt in the palm of my own--not as if she was going to withdraw hers, but as if she thought about it--and I had infallibly lost it a second time, had not instinct more than reason directed me to the last resource in these dangers--to hold it loosely, and in a manner as if I was every moment going to release it of myself; so she let it continue, till Monsieur Dessein returned with the key; and in the meantime I set myself to consider how I should undo the ill impressions which the poor monk's story, in case he had told it her, must have planted in her breast against me.

_The Snuffbox._--The good old monk was within six paces of us, as the idea of them crossed my mind, and was advancing towards us a little out of the line, as if uncertain whether he should break in upon us or no. He stopped, however, as soon as he came up to us, with a world of frankness; and having a horn snuffbox in his hand, he presented it, open, to me. 'You shall taste mine,' said I, pulling out my box (which was a small tortoiseshell one), and putting it into his hand. ''Tis most excellent,' said the monk. 'Then do me the favour,' I replied, 'to accept of the box and all; and, when you take a pinch out of it, sometimes recollect it was the peace offering of a man who once used you unkindly, but not from his heart.'